Read Online Love For Lenore by Regina Tittel - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Regina Tittel
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water and
gathered as many blankets as he had.
Moments later he had his unexpected
visitor propped in a chair, nearer the stove, with her gloves
removed examining her fingers. "You're fortunate. Your fingers will
survive. Just soak them in that warm water, while I check your
feet."
Through heavy lids, she slowly nodded.
The contact with the water seemed to bring some life back into her
as she blinked and widened her eyes to look around. Heston smiled
to himself, thankful he'd found her in time. He removed both boots
but paused at her stocking-clad feet. He'd never touched a woman
this much before. And though it needed to be done, he felt
uncertain about removing her socks. It would certainly expose more
skin than he'd witnessed on a woman, and the feelings her presence
created was already more than he knew how to deal with.
"What do my feet look like? Am I going
to lose my toes?"
Her sweet voice, though overlaid with
worry, filled his cabin with a longed-for harmony.
At least it was still his cabin for
tonight. Tomorrow would bring a much begrudged change.
Heston resumed his task with more
force than necessary, trying to rid his thoughts along with the
feelings this woman caused. He tore the socks from her feet
exposing delicate, white skin. Thankfully, a healthy white, not the
kind caused from frost-bite.
She leaned forward, "Oh, your warm
hands feel good. My feet are so cold."
A smile tickled Heston's lips, but he
kept his head down and concentrated on her feet. Rubbing
vigorously, he brought some color back to her skin before setting
them in the bowl of water. "How are your hands?"
With her eyes trained on him, she
answered, "Better, thank you."
Heston tried not to look her
direction. If she only knew the feelings he battled, she wouldn't
be staring at him so innocently. But there was no place to hide,
he'd have to rein them under control.
He grabbed a towel and dried her hands
with purposeful efficiency. When he looked up, she still stared.
Gray eyes, the color of a storm, pulled at him with
curiosity.
"How did you find me?" Her voice,
again, struck a chord in his chest.
Heston moistened his lips and broke
eye contact. A silly woman, exactly what he didn't need. He shifted
the towel to her feet and tried to concentrate on the task at
hand.
But his thoughts wouldn't rest.
Perhaps she was exactly what he needed? An idea began to form in
his mind, one that would secure his cabin to him, among other
things.
He cleared his throat. "I heard you
cry. You should be thankful I was out checking my traps, else the
wolves might've found you first."
A gasp escaped her lips. "What about
my family?"
Heston's brow furrowed. "What family?
Are there others out there?" The thought disturbed him. If there
had been others with her, where were they now? Why didn't she tell
him when he'd been able to help? He glanced toward the cabin
door.
"On the trail, my family stayed with
the wagon. Will they be safe from the wolves?"
Heston sighed with relief. They had a
wagon, they weren't left defenseless from the weather. And they
were on a trail. What trail? The only trail he knew from the
direction she'd come was distant enough it would free him of
responsibility, at least he hoped. "If they're in the wagon, the
wolves can't get them."
He stood and eyed her more closely.
She seemed of moderate build, but certainly had no business in the
woods all alone. "What were you doing out there?"
"Our last wheel busted and I was the
only one able to handle the distance to get help."
"You know you are a far cry from the
trail don't . . ." The next word died on his tongue as the woman
untied her wool bonnet and slid it from her head, exposing hair the
color of corn silk fresh from the stalk. Heston's breath froze. He
longed to reach out and touch it, even more so when she allowed her
cloak to fall from her shoulders. Her silken waves fell to her
waist in a thick, healthy curtain.
She turned to where he now stood
behind her. "What do you mean?
gathered as many blankets as he had.
Moments later he had his unexpected
visitor propped in a chair, nearer the stove, with her gloves
removed examining her fingers. "You're fortunate. Your fingers will
survive. Just soak them in that warm water, while I check your
feet."
Through heavy lids, she slowly nodded.
The contact with the water seemed to bring some life back into her
as she blinked and widened her eyes to look around. Heston smiled
to himself, thankful he'd found her in time. He removed both boots
but paused at her stocking-clad feet. He'd never touched a woman
this much before. And though it needed to be done, he felt
uncertain about removing her socks. It would certainly expose more
skin than he'd witnessed on a woman, and the feelings her presence
created was already more than he knew how to deal with.
"What do my feet look like? Am I going
to lose my toes?"
Her sweet voice, though overlaid with
worry, filled his cabin with a longed-for harmony.
At least it was still his cabin for
tonight. Tomorrow would bring a much begrudged change.
Heston resumed his task with more
force than necessary, trying to rid his thoughts along with the
feelings this woman caused. He tore the socks from her feet
exposing delicate, white skin. Thankfully, a healthy white, not the
kind caused from frost-bite.
She leaned forward, "Oh, your warm
hands feel good. My feet are so cold."
A smile tickled Heston's lips, but he
kept his head down and concentrated on her feet. Rubbing
vigorously, he brought some color back to her skin before setting
them in the bowl of water. "How are your hands?"
With her eyes trained on him, she
answered, "Better, thank you."
Heston tried not to look her
direction. If she only knew the feelings he battled, she wouldn't
be staring at him so innocently. But there was no place to hide,
he'd have to rein them under control.
He grabbed a towel and dried her hands
with purposeful efficiency. When he looked up, she still stared.
Gray eyes, the color of a storm, pulled at him with
curiosity.
"How did you find me?" Her voice,
again, struck a chord in his chest.
Heston moistened his lips and broke
eye contact. A silly woman, exactly what he didn't need. He shifted
the towel to her feet and tried to concentrate on the task at
hand.
But his thoughts wouldn't rest.
Perhaps she was exactly what he needed? An idea began to form in
his mind, one that would secure his cabin to him, among other
things.
He cleared his throat. "I heard you
cry. You should be thankful I was out checking my traps, else the
wolves might've found you first."
A gasp escaped her lips. "What about
my family?"
Heston's brow furrowed. "What family?
Are there others out there?" The thought disturbed him. If there
had been others with her, where were they now? Why didn't she tell
him when he'd been able to help? He glanced toward the cabin
door.
"On the trail, my family stayed with
the wagon. Will they be safe from the wolves?"
Heston sighed with relief. They had a
wagon, they weren't left defenseless from the weather. And they
were on a trail. What trail? The only trail he knew from the
direction she'd come was distant enough it would free him of
responsibility, at least he hoped. "If they're in the wagon, the
wolves can't get them."
He stood and eyed her more closely.
She seemed of moderate build, but certainly had no business in the
woods all alone. "What were you doing out there?"
"Our last wheel busted and I was the
only one able to handle the distance to get help."
"You know you are a far cry from the
trail don't . . ." The next word died on his tongue as the woman
untied her wool bonnet and slid it from her head, exposing hair the
color of corn silk fresh from the stalk. Heston's breath froze. He
longed to reach out and touch it, even more so when she allowed her
cloak to fall from her shoulders. Her silken waves fell to her
waist in a thick, healthy curtain.
She turned to where he now stood
behind her. "What do you mean?
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