Hard to Handle (8 page)

Like a layer of flannel and thermal would be enough to protect him from the cold? She shook her head. “No. Thank you.”

“You're going to wear it, Stasia.” He softened that statement by adding, “I don't want you to freeze.”

Hearing him say her shortened name did funny things to her. Only family and a few past boyfriends called her that. “I don't want you to freeze either.”

“You've seen me in my underwear.”

At that, a few people glanced up, making Stasia feel conspicuous. “Yeah, so?”

“So you had to notice that I have a fair amount of meat on my bones, especially compared to you.”

She shrugged. “I noticed.”

“Good, then you'll trust me when I say I'll be warm enough.”

God knew she had bigger concerns than who wore what coat, but still she heard herself say, “This is ridiculous. I really don't think—”

Suddenly the entire area died.

All lights. All sounds. Gone.

Inside and out.

Even the people stopped talking, stopped in their tracks.

Harley hauled Stasia behind him, and she could feel the abrupt fighting tension in him. He moved again, and her back bumped into the wall.

How had he known the wall was there? The darkness was so encompassing, she couldn't see her own hand in front of her face!

Without so much as a second thought, he'd protected her back with the wall, and her front with himself.

Obviously, Harley believed her about her brakes.

“Sheila,” he called out, “don't you have a flashlight or something?”

“I'm on it.” A glass broke, Sheila cursed, and after a few seconds more of rustling, a bright utility light flashed on. After scanning the crowd of blank faces, she announced, “Must be another power outage.”

Everyone looked toward the windows but could see nothing in the black abyss.

Stasia felt like weeping. Damn it, she'd wanted nothing more than to return to her cabin, take another hot shower, and then curl up beneath her warm blankets in bed. Unless she got back home quickly, her woodstove would die out, leaving the cabin cold. And without electricity, her meager water supply would provide only enough warm water for a flash shower.

Thinking about a
cold
shower made her groan.

“What's wrong?” Harley asked her.

“Nothing.”

“You made a sound.”

“Of disappointment, Harley, that's all. My cabin is going to get cold quick.”

“Yeah.”

He kept her behind him, but she could practically feel him thinking. Probably trying to figure out a way to help her.

Not in this lifetime.

“Harley, stop. It's not your problem. I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself. And don't forget, you promised your uncle you'd get on the road.”

“After I took you home.”

“I would appreciate the ride. But that's all.”

He turned to face her. In the darkness, Stasia could only see the glimmer of his eyes.

“Do you have any enemies?”

She laughed—but Harley didn't. “Enemies who would cut the power to an entire town? No, Harley, I can't think of anyone resourceful enough to do that. It's just an outage, that's all.”

Still he didn't relax. “Forget the outage and think about your truck. It's possible that something just went wrong with your truck, right? A maintenance problem maybe? Have your brakes been scrubbing at all?”

“No. I would have had them checked if they did.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I maintain my truck, Harley. I have the oil changed every three thousand miles, and everything is checked over then. Any little dings, any lights that come on, I get the truck serviced.”

Harley put a fist beneath her chin and tipped up her face. “That's what I figured. You strike me as the type who takes care of her belongings.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “So, Stasia, who tampered with your truck? A
friend
?”

It made her brain cramp to think about it. “I don't know. I guess there are people who don't like me.” One particular couple came to mind right away. Then she shook her head. “But I can't think of anyone who'd want me dead. And taking out my brakes is the kind of thing that could kill someone.”

“Exactly.” His hand went from her chin to the side of her face. “Someone tried to hurt you, you don't have a phone, and now you don't have electricity.”

She winced and hoped he couldn't see her.

“Do you really think I'm just going to leave you alone with all that?”

Oh God. She didn't want to be responsible for keeping him away from his uncle. “Look around, Harley. I'm not alone.” And if he'd give her a few seconds to think, she could probably figure out what to do. Because he was right; in the off chance that someone came looking for her, she didn't want to be alone in her cabin.

Harley continued to stand there, saying nothing, but she felt his disapproval.

Damn him.

“I have an idea.”

Sighing, he dropped his hands. “Let's hear it.”

“If you wouldn't mind too much, I could grab a few things from my cabin, then ride with you to the nearest motel. You'll be taking the expressway home, so I'm sure there'll be a lot of choices along the way. You can just drop me off and then be on your way.”

In answer, Harley ran a hand through his hair.

“It probably won't add but another hour to your trip.”

“It's not that. I have time to spare.”

“If you're feeling gallant, don't. I'm a big girl. I know how to deal with my own problems. I'll wait until tomorrow when the roads are clearer and the electricity is back on, then I'll catch a ride home and get everything straightened out.”

The crowd stirred uneasily. A few candles and a flashlight weren't sufficient to keep card games going. Then a fight suddenly erupted—someone must've caught someone else trying to make off with the pot.

Curses filled the air. Crashes sounded around them. Several people headed outside, a few others came in. From one heartbeat to the next, chaos reigned.

“Time for us to go,” Harley said to her, and two seconds later, he began stuffing her into his coat.

This time she didn't argue. “Fine. Thank you. But I can dress myself.”

He pulled the collar together under her chin. “I don't know what it is, Stasia, but something's not right tonight. I feel it. The sooner we're away from here, the better I'll like it.” He took her hand and turned them to go; Ned stood there, blocking them.

A lighter in Ned's hand gave off scant illumination. The play of light and shadows turned his craggy face into an eerie visage. “I need a favor, Harley.”

Again, Stasia found herself shoved behind Harley, but he kept one hand on her as if to reassure himself that she wouldn't get taken away.

“I'm in a rush, Ned.”

“Yeah, and you're with Anastasia, I know.” That clearly puzzled him; but then, she had never dated while staying at the cabin, so she could understand Ned's confusion. “I'm sorry to intrude.”

“What is it?”

Ned's lighter went out. He muttered to himself, clicked it several times, and it came on again. “Sorry. The thing is, my ride just passed out drunk.”

“Your ride?”

“Yeah, me and Gene were hanging out all day and just ended up here. He drove.”

Harley rubbed his face. “So what do you want from me?”

“I don't live far from here, but it's too damn cold for me to walk.”

“And too dark,” Stasia added, thinking of the people who'd run her off the road. On a night like this, it'd be far too easy for someone to get seriously hurt.

“Can you give me a lift?” Ned asked.

Harley didn't immediately answer.

Stasia nudged him for his rudeness.

“I'm just a few miles down the road,” Ned promised him. “It won't take you long.”

“Couldn't you ask someone else? I'm anxious to get Stasia back to her place.”

To Stasia, that sounded far too sexually suggestive, so she hurriedly explained, “I got stuck out in the weather when my truck went off the road.”

“You weren't hurt?”

“No, I'm fine, just anxious to get back to my nice warm cabin.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Ned cleared his throat again. “But that's just it, Harley. You're the only one I know with a vehicle who can make it there.”

Stasia said, “Like me, Ned lives up the hill.”

Harley turned to her. “And you know this how?”

Positive that Harley glared at her, but unable to see him, she reached out—and her hand bumped into his rock-solid abdomen.

She snatched it back. He was closer than she realized. “It's a small town, Harley.” Damn, her voice sounded strained. “Everyone here knows everyone else.”

Harley said nothing, but Stasia knew he watched her, and because it unnerved her more, she stepped to the side of him.

Sheila lit more lanterns and when she placed one closer to them, Ned put away the lighter. He now stood in shadows, but didn't look quite so creepy.

“Of course we'll give you a ride, Ned.”

Putting his arm around her shoulders, Harley asked her near her ear, “I agreed to that?”

“You're a reasonable man. You were going to.”

Ned looked back and forth between them. “I appreciate it.”

Harley gave up with ill grace. “I'd leave you in here until I had my Jeep going, but I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

Stasia agreed. “I go where you go.”

He smoothed a hand over her hair, dragged the hat down over her head to cover her ears, and said, “Then let's get to it.”

The second they stepped outside, a gust of strong wind nearly toppled Stasia. Harley kept her tucked in to his side, shielding her with his body while they located his Jeep. It took another half a minute for him to get the near-frozen door open.

He started the engine and turned on the heat. While Stasia huddled in her seat, trying to stay warm, Harley and Ned cleared the windows. Even freezing, she would have offered to help with that, especially since she wore Harley's coat, but she already knew it'd be useless.

When Harley finally got behind the wheel, Stasia stared at him. He didn't shiver. Hell, his nose hadn't even turned red. But he did hold his hands out to the heater and let them warm.

“How are you?” he asked Stasia. “Warm enough?”

That should have been her question to him. “I'm fine. I think your Jeep is warmer than the bar.”

“Probably.” He looked over his shoulder to the backseat. “Buckle up, Ned.”

“Oh, right.” Ned, who'd been busy hugging himself and shivering uncontrollably, struggled with the restraint before finally getting it latched into place. “Got it.”

Harley put the Jeep in drive and rolled out of the parking space.

Stasia marveled at that. She'd expected him to be stuck at least a little. “I like your car.”

“Jeep. They're a vehicle all their own, and yeah, I like it, too.” He drove with proper caution, almost as slowly as Stasia had, and they made it to Ned's place without encountering another car on the road.

When Harley pulled up to the driveway, Ned released his seat belt and sat forward. “I really appreciate it, Harley.”

“No problem,” Harley said, but added, “Stasia insisted.”

“Want me to leave my coat with you?”

“I'm all right, thanks.”

“You're sure?”

Stasia saw Harley's impatience, but Ned seemed oblivious. “Positive. Go on in. We'll wait here until you're in the door.”

Ned thanked them again, said his good-byes, and reluctantly left the warmth of the vehicle. Taking very high steps—almost hops—he dashed through the thick snow across his lawn to the front stoop. If he had a walkway, snow had long since buried it. After a few seconds of fumbling, he got the front door open, flipped on the porch light, and waved them off.

“You should have taken his coat,” Stasia told Harley. “Or I could have taken it and given you back yours.”

“The man smells of day-old sweat. No thanks.”

“That's just Ned. He's clean, but I think the smell of his garage clings to him.”

“Ned owns his own business?”

“You pass it on the way to the cabin, but it sort of sits off the road behind some trees. I'll show you.” They rode in silence until Stasia saw Ned's garage. “There it is. He does routine maintenance and repairs. Ned might seem a little goofy, but he does a good job, so he stays busy.”