Chapter 2: Confessions by the Fire

The storm outside battered the cabin, snow slapping the walls and rattling the roof. Inside, the fire cast flickering light over the rough boards, revealing the tense lines of a man unused to company and the strained composure of a woman in pain.

Jed Calhoun crouched beside the cot, jaw tight, arms resting on his knees. The woman he’d carried in lay on her back, one leg stretched out before her. The knee-high leather boot was trapping her leg in an unnatural angle. Every shift made her hiss sharply, yet she forced herself to remain still, jaw tight, hands gripping the cot to steady herself.

“Can’t stand on that thing, can you?” Jed asked, voice rough.

“No,” she said through clenched teeth, voice firm despite the tremor. “I ... I can’t. It’s broken. Doesn’t matter. I can manage lying here.”

Jed muttered a curse. He liked his solitude, the quiet hills, the cold, the absence of anyone else’s problems. Yet here she was, shivering and in pain, and he could not simply turn away.

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “Boot comes off. Stay still.”

She drew in a sharp breath but didn’t complain further, bracing herself against the cot as he unbuckled the leather. She moaned as he worked, but quickly forced the sound back down, her face set in an effortful mask of control. When the boot finally slid free, the firelight revealed the severity of her injury.