Where was she? She squinted at the unfamiliar surroundings. It was a fair-sized room, clearly a man’s room. The colors were dark, browns and greens and blues; the furnishings clean and simple, functional. The bed took up a good part of the space. A Shaker-style matching dresser and night table were the only other pieces – simple, sturdy, wood-grained – pine, maybe. Definitely not anywhere she’d ever been before.
And what was she wearing? Like the room, her clothing clearly belonged to a man. A heavy, soft flannel shirt and lightweight sweats that were way too big for her. Her ankle, wrist and hand were securely taped. A few twists of her torso confirmed what the dull throb had already suggested – that she had definitely sustained an injury below her right shoulder blade.
Craig entered the room, his face breaking into a smile when he saw she was awake. “Morning, sunshine,” he said with cheer, carrying in a small tray with toast and juice. “How are you feeling?”
“Craig,” she croaked, the memories starting to come back to her, along with the uncertainty, the fear, and the feeling that something was definitely not right.
He grinned wider and sat beside her, slipping a thermometer under her tongue while pressing his other hand to her forehead. “Got it in one. Guess that rules out a serious concussion.” He winked.
“Where are we?” she asked, taking out the thermometer. Craig put it right back in.
“My uncle’s hunting cabin. Now keep that in there or I’ll find somewhere else to stick it.” She scowled at him, making him laugh. He was definitely in high spirits. “Brat. Show some gratitude, will you?”
She remained quiet until he removed the thermometer and looked at it, frowning. “One hundred point seven. Could be worse, I guess, given the shape you were in last night. Let’s see if we can get some more fluids in you, keep that fever from going up any higher.” He stood, stacking pillows behind her and helping her to sit up. She winced at the pain in her back.
Last night. The storm. She’d been cold and wet, covered in mud and in incredible pain. Now she was warm and dry, wrapped in soft flannel and the excruciating pain was reduced to a series of dull background aches. Realization dawned. “You undressed me,” she said, her eyes widening while heat flooded her face.
He rolled his eyes, seeming exceptionally cheerful and un-Craig like. “Trust me. You don’t have anything I haven’t already seen, sweetheart,” he assured her. “And what was I supposed to do? Leave you in your wet, muddy clothes all night? It’s not like you were in any shape to do it yourself.”
Lacie bit her lip. That was true enough, she had to admit. Still, the thought of Craig seeing her naked kept the color rising into her cheeks and made her feel ... violated. He smiled, but thankfully, refrained from commenting further. Talk about awkward.
Time to move on to question number two. “Why are we at your uncle’s hunting cabin? Why didn’t you take me home?”
Craig’s eyes darkened; he stilled momentarily, then wiped the thermometer and placed it back into its plastic sheath. “I can care for you better here.”
His carefully modulated tone sent a chill through her. “Craig, what’s going on?”
“You tell me, Lace.”
Lacie blinked slowly; she hadn’t expected him to throw the question right back at her. “Since I’m just waking up and you’re the one that brought us here, I’m not sure how I can.”
Craig’s lips thinned as he checked the wraps, made her wiggle her fingers and toes, had her follow his finger with her eyes as he moved it from side to side. She humored him, knowing it was the only way he would answer her questions. Repeating the query would be useless; Craig would answer in his own time. Defiance at this point would only get his hackles up, and she needed information, not attitude.
Apparently satisfied that everything was as it should be, Craig exhaled heavily. “Lacie, I’ve known you your whole life. You’re not acting like yourself lately. I’m worried about you.”
She blinked. “There’s no reason to be. Well, other than my usual klutziness, but you should be used to that by now.” She attempted a smile but Craig did not return it.
Craig shifted, averting his eyes. “See, that’s where we disagree. You’ve been especially moody lately, and doing irrational things.”
“Moody? Irrational?”
He nodded, his eyes unusually bright. “Yes. You missed pizza and movie night, Lace. You never miss pizza and movie night. Shelly was devastated.”
Lacie frowned. She thought Shelly had seemed just fine, but refrained from saying so. Craig was acting very strangely. Even more protective than usual, he was speaking to her as if she was an explosive child prone to temper tantrums. Usually if Craig had something to say he just came out and said it, subtlety be damned. This cautiousness was out of character, and something told her that whatever he was referring to was about more than one missed pizza and movie night.