Carlise giggled.
The sound made Chappy grin. “Anyway, we cut and trim trees, pull up stumps, help the emergency rescue folks when there are trees down across roads. We also do maintenance on the Appalachian Trail, making sure it’s clear, the trail markers are visible and haven’t been worn away, and accompany people who’re unsure about hiking through the Maine part of the AT by themselves.”
“Wow. I’m guessing you’re pretty busy then.”
“In the warmer months, yes. Not as much in the winter, which is okay by all of us. I bought this cabin and fixed it up so I’d have a place to go to unwind when I needed it.”
Carlise nodded as if she understood perfectly, though he knew most people would probably laugh. It wasn’t as if Newton was a huge metropolis or his job was all that stressful. Still, there were times when Chappy just needed to be alone.
The thought startled him. He should be upset that his retreat from the world, from the crap that sometimes swirled in his head, had been intruded upon by a stranger. Oddly, Carlise didn’t feel like a stranger.
He opened his mouth to say something else, he wasn’t sure what, when she gasped and bolted up from the chair.
Chappy stood just as abruptly, slight dizziness assailing him as he looked around to see what had startled her. When he didn’t spot anything, he watched as she frantically sorted through the cans in his pantry.
“What’s wrong?” he asked urgently.
“I almost forgot Baxter!”
“Baxter?” Chappy asked. “Who’s that?”
She turned to him. “The dog who found me.”
“The pit bull?” Chappy asked in surprise.
“Yeah.”
“He’s here?” He looked around again, trying to find the dog. It wasn’t as if the cabin was all that large; he should’ve spotted the big mutt right away.
“He wouldn’t come inside. Believe me, I tried. He’s on the porch. I hope you don’t mind, but I took out a couple of the blankets you had around here. Not the newer-looking fluffy ones. There’s a space between the cabin and the logs you stacked on the porch where he’s made himself a little home with the blankets. It’s still really cold, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get him to budge from his nest. I’ve been feeding him, though.”
“I don’t have any dog food,” Chappy said unnecessarily. She obviously knew that.
“I’ve been using the stuff you have handy. Chickpeas, green beans, canned tuna and chicken . . . things like that. But now that I know I can use the stove, I can cook some rice and include that too. I bet he’d really like something warm in his belly.”
She stopped as suddenly as she’d started and looked over at him. Her cheeks flushed bright red as he watched. “I mean . . . if it’s okay with you? It’s your food. You might not want me using it to feed a stray. I’m so sorry, I didn’t really think about that.”
Chappy couldn’t stop himself from approaching. She was now standing outside the pantry he’d built to hold all his canned and dry goods. All his friends had laughed at the amount of food he kept at his cabin, but he wanted to be prepared at all times.
He stepped close and lifted his hand, stopping himself when he was inches away from her face. “May I?” he asked softly, gaze flicking to his hand.
She looked confused for a second, then seemed to understand that he was asking permission to touch her. She nodded once.
Chappy slowly ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek before resting his hand on the side of her neck. His thumb caressed the underside of her jaw. He shook his head slightly as he said, “I’m in awe of you, Carlise.”
Her brows furrowed once again in confusion.
“You could’ve died. Were probably frozen to the bone. And yet when I saw you that first time, I could see the determination in your eyes, in the way you continued to put one foot in front of the other. You weren’t going to stop until you were safe. Of course, you couldn’t know there was literally nothing in the direction you were going. Nothing but my cabin. The road you were on eventually dead-ends, with only trees and wilderness for miles and miles.
“But by some miracle, I found you. Led you here . . . and then promptly passed out on you.” He smiled slightly. “You did what you needed to do in order to keep both of us safe and warm. Not only that, but you didn’t forget about the poor dog.”
“He saved my life,” she whispered.
“He did,” Chappy agreed, his gaze tracking over every part of her face. He liked this. Liked being close to her. Touching her. She was looking at him with big blue eyes, and he felt good about what he saw in her gaze—relief. Trust.
And an attraction that Chappy was feeling down to his toes.
“Why Baxter?” he asked.
“I thought of all sorts of other names . . . I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, after all. But nothing felt right. Then Baxter just kind of popped into my head, and it seemed to fit.”
“I like it. So he’s been eating?”
Carlise nodded. “Last night was the first time he ate while I was out there with him.”
“You’ve been sitting out there with him? It’s freezing,” Chappy said with a frown.
“I know, but I’ve been talking to him. Wanting him to get used to my voice. I hate that he’s out there in the cold and we’re in here. It’s not right.”
It wasn’t right. But until the dog trusted her, trusted both of them, he wouldn’t come inside. “How about we make some rice and add it to his food?”
“Won’t it take a while to make? I mean, it’s already past the time I usually feed him. I don’t want him to think I forgot about him.”
Chappy’s lips quirked. “He won’t think you forgot him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“That dog’s not going anywhere. He’s probably warmer than he’s been in quite a while, and you’re his food source. He’s not going to risk losing either of those things. Besides, I’ve got some minute rice, the stuff that doesn’t take long to cook. Do you think he’ll eat if I go out there with you?”
Carlise thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. Not about Baxter, but about you going outside. You’re still a little flushed. And you were delirious not too long ago. It’s probably not a good idea for you to be out in the cold.”
Her concern felt good. “We won’t stay out there long. Besides, I need to get more logs for the fire anyway.”
“I can do it.”
“I know you can. And I appreciate it. But now that I’m awake and aware of what’s going on, you won’t.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s not an answer,” she said, rolling her eyes.
God, she was cute. Although Chappy knew better than to call her that to her face. He wasn’t an expert when it came to relationships, but he’d called a woman cute once in his distant past, and she’d made it very clear that she found the adjective offensive. He wasn’t sure why, maybe she’d had some sort of bad experience. He had a feeling it was probably more her problem than an issue for women in general. But he’d been very careful not to use the word to describe future girlfriends.
“Because you’ve been taking care of me for three days,” he said after a short pause. “You didn’t have to. I didn’t expect you to. But you did. If I thought Baxter would react positively to me, I’d ask you to stay inside and let me feed him. But he’s used to you now, and I don’t want to risk him running off if I go out there by myself.
“But . . . I’m a protector, Carlise. It’s who I am. When my friends and I got out of the army, we didn’t want to go into any kind of profession that involved weapons . . . security or bodyguarding, that sort of thing . . . but it’s in my DNA to try to make sure those around me are protected and cared for. I’m uncomfortable with the fact that you had to tend to my every need these last few days, though I’m so very relieved, grateful, and touched that you did.”