But as soon as she could make it down the mountain, she would figure out what to do to break this cycle of blacking out when things got tough.
Until then, she was enjoying her hot bath.
She glanced at her red sweater with sparkles in a heap on the bathroom floor. She’d put it on for a work luncheon. There was a gift exchange. While she’d spent hours in the shops hunting down the perfect coworker gift to make their season bright, she’d gotten a cross-eyed Santa figurine with a chipped hat in return. It made her bite her lip to keep from giggling at the sight of it, but the older man who’d given it to her would be hurt by her laugh.
She glanced at a rustic wooden stool with three legs in the corner of the bathroom. Hunt placed one of his plaid shirts there, along with a thick towel. Though she appreciated all that he was doing for her, it made her edgy too. She’d been on her own pretty much her whole life. She didn’t like being taken care of, maybe because few people had ever bothered.
Or if they did, they expected something in return.
Sooner or later Hunt would demand answers. She just didn’t know if she could provide them.
How did I end up in the snow? How did I hit my head?
There was also the worry that whatever had forced the memory right out of her brain was something she actually needed to be concerned about.
She soaked in the tub for so long that the water started to grow chilly. Quickly, she got out, dried off and donned the thick, soft, worn flannel shirt that belonged to her rescuer.
It hung to her mid-thighs, and the sleeves needed rolled several times. It still beat the thin dress clothes he’d found her in.
She remembered the coworker in the cubicle next to hers commenting on how festive her sweater was and how pretty she looked in red.
What did that matter when she didn’t know how she’d come to be in the snow? If she blocked it out, something had stressed her badly. It might even be dangerous.
Oh god. Colby.
All those text messages he’d been sending her. They made her stomach knot whenever she thought about them, and running into him at the grocery store always made her want to sprint for the hills.
All these months she’d continued to allow him to contact her, telling herself that he was harmless but weird with attachment issues and zero social aptitude. But that heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach had been there before. Many, many times.
When the Andersons tried their best to give her the dream Christmas she wanted, Colby always seemed to find some way to block her from having a good time. Of course, he never said that. Things just worked out that way. They planned to see The Nutcracker, and he got the flu. They were heading out to select the perfect Christmas tree and Colby hurt his knee.
The smiles he would give her after these events placed that stone weight in her stomach and left her disliking him even more.
Could Colby be the reason she was here and suffering with this feeling of dread now?
She did her best to finger-comb her hair into some order and rinsed out her mouth with tap water from the sink.
When she stepped into the main room of the cabin, her gaze was drawn directly to Hunt. He reclined in an armchair by the roaring fire, long legs extended and clad in denim as worn-in as the shirt she had on.
The dog sat at his side, and Hunt’s fingers rubbed absentmindedly over his pointy ears. The dog’s eyes were squinting with pleasure.
Hunt spotted her and shoved into a sitting position. “How do you feel? Warm enough? I have some thermal underwear bottoms if you need them.”
“I’m warm.” She glanced at her feet in the oversized woolen socks he’d loaned her.
He followed the path of her gaze, raking down her bare legs to the socks bunched around her ankles. He lurched to his feet and sliced his fingers through his hair. The locks had a slight wave and a few strands of gray swam through the brown. His hair was a deeper hue than his eyes, and both set off his skin, tanned like a skier’s.
He was rugged and fit, made for the playground of Alaska where outdoor sports were a lifestyle for some. An image of him wearing a red ski jacket popped into her head, and she cut a glance at the kitchen chair where the coat was draped over the back.
So her mind wasn’t as scattered as she thought. She was able to recall a lot of things.
“Why don’t you sit by the fire?” He waved at one of the armchairs in invitation.
She nodded and moved to sink to the seat. When he reached into a basket and withdrew a thick, plush blanket and handed it to her, she smiled at him in thanks.
He froze, stare locked on her, still gripping the blanket. A heartbeat passed and then he released his hold on the blanket. “I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want a bottle of water?”
“Yes, please.” She spread the blanket over her legs and shivered in pleasure at the warmth from the fire, blanket and Hunt’s shirt and socks seeping through her body.
He returned with a cold bottle in hand. Before he passed it to her, he narrowed his eyes. “Are you still cold? Maybe you should have more hot tea. Or cocoa? I’d offer coffee, but it’s late and you’ll be awake from the caffeine.”
She reached up to take the bottle. “It sounds odd, but I shivered just now because I’m toasty warm. After being so cold, it feels so good to be warm.” She uncapped the bottle and sipped while Hunt sat down in the chair opposite her and did the same.
He took up stroking his dog’s ears.
“What’s your dog’s name?” she asked.
“Aries.”
The German Shepherd picked up his head.
“He’s part of the K-9 unit. My partner.”
She eyed Aries.
“I’m sorry if he frightens you. But he’s really a big ole teddy bear.”
She nodded. “Dogs always scared me, ever since I was little and one of the dogs in my new foster home came barreling across the yard at me. It knocked me down. When I screamed, it took hold of the back of my shirt and started yanking it.”
She wondered why she hadn’t blocked out that frightening experience.
Hunt’s warm gaze lit on her with a sympathetic light emphasized by the golden fire. “That sounds scary. You grew up in the system.”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember anything about today?”
“I remember everything leading up to the time I got into my car after work.”
“Where do you work?”
“At a government agency. Just a normal nine-to-five job.”
“Were you going home? Or meeting someone?”
That black hole yawned in her memory. She was looking into a total void. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
Hunt’s brows drew downward. “You don’t appear to have a concussion, but I’m only trained as a medic, not a doctor. Does your head hurt?”
“A little.”
He got up again. Aries tracked his master’s every move, and she could see why Hunt called him his partner. They were connected to each other in a way she’d never seen before.
Hunt rummaged in a duffle bag and returned with his hand cupped. “Here—painkillers.”
“Thanks.” She held out her palm. When he dropped them into her hand, she noted how big his hands were. Capable of dragging a half-frozen woman out of the snow and warming her too. She felt the touch of those hands on her spine when he was curled around her in bed, and her cheeks warmed.