Hints of something warm and sweet, like vanilla, hit his senses. She smelled good. The realization was enough to make him step away from her.
“Wow, you really are hotter than me.” She glanced up, pulling at either side of the sheepskin. “Thank you,” she added, her gaze set on the small boots as they reappeared from beneath the bench.
“Sure,” he said. “I’m going to get a fire started. But first, I need you to promise not to…make a run for it.”
The woman looked up in surprise. “Where would I go?”
Easton shrugged. “I have no idea. You seemed pretty desperate to get back down the canyon, is all I mean.”
“I am,” she assured.
“Yeah well, just tell me you’re going to stay put so I can go collect some wood. If you take off, I’ll have to go on another rescue mission and I’d rather not do that.”
The wind must have changed angles, because suddenly a loud whoosh and whistle echoed within the structure.
“Where do you have to go to get firewood?” she asked, her voice louder to carry over the noise.
“To a nearby storage shed,” he said, making his way to the door.
“How nearby? It’s not going to take very long is it?”
Oh, she was scared, he realized. Easton shook his head. “No.”
She nodded. “It’s just…you pointed out those animal tracks…”
Yes, he had done that with the moose tracks he spotted while they hurried from the Jeep to the yurt; perhaps that had been a bad idea. It was, to him, habit, since he was usually in training mode while on the campgrounds.
“You’ll be safe in here,” he assured her. “I’ll be right back.” He was halfway to the door when she spoke up again.
“Easton?”
He froze in place. “Yes?”
“Are you absolutely one hundred percent sure that there’s no possible way I’ll make my flight?”
Easton sucked in a breath and let it out before responding. He pictured the spoiled woman making his life utterly miserable in the hours ahead. Rounds of vicious blame, irritation, and sheer anger over missing her flight.
“Ivy,” he said, keeping his back to her. “As much as I wish it wasn’t true, the truth is that your flight, along with every other flight in the days ahead, has already been canceled.” He hurried to the door, pulled it open, and uttered two final words before heading out into the cold. “I’m sorry.”
Chapter 4
Ivy couldn’t tear her gaze off the door of the yurt as she held tightly to the thick wrap Easton had warmed her with. Her mind was whirling with all that had taken place in the last few hours. Surely the magnitude of those moments would start to sink in. Like the long minutes that ticked by as she gripped onto the SUV’s steering wheel, following a road that got lost in whirls of white. It had been much too dangerous to carry on, but she’d been too stubborn to turn back.
And it definitely was stubbornness that prevented her from turning around at that point. She’d even cursed the rock she’d run into, cursed it for stopping her in her tracks, until she realized that those tracks were no longer on the actual road. A road that soon would become narrow enough to throw her off the edge with one wrong move.
What Easton had said was true.
A sick, hollow sounding thud pulsed in her ears, throbbing against her temples as the magnitude started to sink in. Had Easton not come looking for her…she shuddered against the thought.
The tank could have easily run empty before the storm died. There’d been no data or WiFi service to speak of. Even as he escorted her from the rental to his Jeep, Ivy had left the suitcase behind, still foolishly thinking she’d come right back to her rental once the interview was done. Her clothes, makeup, laptop and chargers, all of it sat in the abandoned SUV, where she would still be if he hadn’t come looking for her.
Easton was definitely brave to weather the elements as he’d done. Many would likely alert the authorities if they thought someone was lost in the storm, not go looking for them on their own. Especially if that someone was a complete stranger. Of course, Easton, with his job as it was, probably possessed a greater survival and rescue instinct than most.
Still, it could be that he was so anxious to get on the show that he couldn’t fathom missing out on the interview. This was his shot and he wasn’t going to miss out on it. It didn’t exactly fit the picture she was getting from him, but Ivy nodded just the same.
Whatever his reasons were, she was very grateful to him. So why couldn’t she have done a better job of showing it?
An image of Marsha Langston flashed into her mind. An achy burn followed, trailing from her head to her heart.
Crap! Crapitty crap crap! I will not let you down? She wished she could un-send that stupid text. “Ugh.”
Why had she volunteered to do all five interviews when they were spread out over five different states, more than half of which were covered in snow? Because she’d been trying to keep up with Nancy, that’s why.
Her mind forced her back to her dilemma. It was a matter of life and death, Ivy. What’s a promotion compared to that?
A chill crept up her back at the truth of those words.
Surely Marsha could appreciate her dilemma. Especially since Ivy had gone out on a limb when the cab driver refused to take her. And maybe there was a story here. It was said that Marsha, as cutthroat and cunning as she might be, was a romantic at heart. Hence, her fascination with matchmaking TV shows. If that was the case, she’d be eating up Ivy’s troubled tale with a spoon. One of her very own bachelors, chivalrously swooping to the rescue of her top assistant.
Ivy rode on that high for a blink. Yes, Easton’s heroic rescue would surely earn him a spot in the finals. But who was she kidding—his appearance alone would do that no matter what his personality was like.
Easton Sparks, with his masculine chiseled jaw, angular nose, and those well-defined lips, had a face made for the camera. Not to mention his physique…
Marsha was right to have her sights set on him. Soon every woman in America would too. The thought almost kindled a tinge of jealousy, but not quite. How could she be jealous about something she didn’t want for herself?
Only as she considered the way he’d tossed the warm blanket over her shoulders—the feelings that had fluttered through her at his touch—that statement didn’t exactly feel true. Even in recollection, a soft ripple of goosebumps trailed up her arms. She guessed it was because he was so…manly and attractive. Having his undivided attention on her…it made her heart race even in recollection.
He knows he has that effect on women—he has to.
A sudden thud sounded from the door. “Ivy,” she heard.
An image of Easton holding a stack of wood came to mind. “Oh, yeah.” Quickly then, she darted over to the door with one hand holding the blanket in place, and cranked the knob with her other hand.
A mass of sloshy snowflakes pelted her face, fueled by a loud and vicious roar of wind. Her brother had once aimed a leaf blower at her face while cleaning grass clippings off the driveway. The speed of this wind with its wet, frozen chunks made that encounter look like a gentle breeze on a summer’s day.