Wilde Thing. Jannine Gallant

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      “Where’s your home?”

      “A tiny, old cabin in Timberland I inherited from my grandfather. Funny, Eden didn’t mention you were only a few miles away when she visited me last fall.”

      He rested his head against the window, dark lashes visible on his cheeks as they passed under a streetlight. “I was in Europe at the time, and I haven’t had this house long enough for the family to have seen it yet.”

      His words slurred slightly. Hannah frowned. Maybe it was just exhaustion or the pain meds, but she wasn’t leaving him home alone with a concussion, no matter how mild. She passed the turnoff to his neighborhood and kept going.

      Tripp didn’t say anything more until the car stopped. He sat up straighter, opened his eyes, then glanced around at her cabin backed up against white-coated trees just visible through the falling snow in the glare of the headlights. “Where are we?”

      “My place. The doctor wants someone to keep an eye on you, and it looks like that someone is going to be me. I need to pack a bag and collect my dog. My neighbor would feed her if I asked, but she can come with us instead.” She opened the car door to a swirl of fat flakes. “Be right back.”

      Trudging through the snow on the path to the front porch, she stomped her boots before unlocking the door to step inside. Her Tiffany lamp, an impulse purchase she hadn’t regretted, glowed on the end table by the couch, casting a warm glow over knotty pine walls. A soft thump sounded from the other room. No doubt Winnie jumping off the bed. Her baby strolled out to greet her, nails clicking on the hardwood floor. The spaniel yawned and stretched as Hannah stooped to rub her silky ears.

      “Did you have a boring day? Sorry I’m home so late.”

      Straightening, she headed into the bedroom to pack the overnight bag she pulled off a shelf in the closet. A change of clothes and pajamas was all she would need. Her hand hovered over the stack of folded flannel. She jerked it back and searched behind her practical nightwear for a lone silk gown. If Tripp caught a glimpse of her in that little red number, she might not be so invisible anymore. Dropping it into the open bag, she stuffed in a warm fleece robe and quilted slippers. It was January, after all, and she didn’t want to freeze. After collecting a few toiletries from the bathroom with Winnie at her heels, she headed into the kitchen to grab a bag of dog food and her pet’s bowls.

      Hannah glanced down. “That should do it. Ready to go?”

      Winnie gave a sharp bark and shook. Smiling, Hannah turned off the light and, helped by a gust of wind, opened the door then locked it after her dog scurried out.

      “Go pee while you have the chance. I don’t want to take you out the minute we get to Tripp’s place.”

      Apparently Winnie was feeling co-operative, or she hadn’t bothered to use her doggie door in a while. After she took care of business near a snow-covered bush, Hannah hurried toward the car. Opening the back door, she tossed in her overnight bag and the dog supplies.

      “Get in.”

      Winnie leaped up onto the seat then jumped to the center console to land on Tripp’s lap with a thud.

      “What the hell?” He jerked upright and blinked.

      Hannah slammed the rear door then slid onto the driver’s seat. “Sorry about that. She’s used to riding up front. Be glad she’s not a Saint Bernard.”

      One hand came up to stroke the dog’s long, brown and white fur. Winnie closed her eyes in obvious bliss and groaned.

      Why wouldn’t she? I bet most females respond that way to Tripp when he touches them.

      “Pretty. What is she?”

      “A King Charles Spaniel. Her name’s Winnie, although I should have called her Princess.” Hannah backed the car out of the drive then headed down the snowy street. “She expects to be treated like royalty.”

      “Why not? She’s a beauty. I like dogs, but I travel too much to own one.”

      “When I take out-of-town cases, I bring her with me. If my client has a problem with that, I cut them loose. I can pretty much pick and choose who I work with at this point.” She leaned forward to peer through the fogged up windshield then wiped it with the sleeve of her coat. “You steamed it up in here.”

      “Sorry for breathing. Who’s a bigger diva, you or your dog?”

      Hannah snorted on a laugh. “Hey, I worked hard to earn my reputation as the best in the business. There have to be a few perks to go along with it.”

      “Damn right.”

      They drove in silence, the headlights barely illuminating the road through the near whiteout conditions. As they started up the steep climb to his neighborhood, the engine strained as the car plowed through the deepening snow.

      “This storm came in fast and hard.”

      “No doubt.” She tossed him a quick glance as they reached the top of the hill. “Which way?”

      “Take Big Pine. I’m way down at the end. The house backs up to the forest.”

      “Nice. I bet you have a killer view of the lake.”

      “That’s why I bought the place.” He stroked along Winnie’s back as she turned on his lap to press her nose against the window. “The next driveway is mine. Damn, looks like I need to get out the snow blower.”

      “Not going to happen tonight.” Her Subaru bumped into the drive, and she stopped before the closed garage door. “At least there isn’t a berm since the plow hasn’t come by yet.”

      He shifted to pull his phone out of his pocket then pushed a couple of buttons. The door rose slowly.

      “You can park inside since my pickup is still at Squaw.”

      “That’ll make getting out easier for you with a sprained ankle.” She nosed into the garage then turned off the engine. “Why didn’t they send you home with at least one crutch?”

      “I have a pair from a broken leg a few years ago.”

      “Figures.” She let out a long breath. “We made it. I was beginning to wonder.”

      The big door rumbled shut behind them. An automatic overhead light illuminated the large, white-walled space.

      “You’re good at driving in the snow. Steady and sure with no overreactions.”

      “That’s me. I’ve never been a drama queen.” She stepped out of the car then hurried around to his side to open the door. “I’ll help you into the house. Get down, Winnie.”

      Her dog jumped to the concrete floor then set off to sniff the workbench set up in the front. A dozen or more pairs of skis stood in tall racks, and a long stack of wood filled the area near the door leading into the house.

      Tripp stood, holding on to the roof of the car with his left hand. “God, I hate being so helpless.”

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