Read Online The Wall by Amanda Carpenter - Free Book Online Page A

the box that was positioned by the
    fireplace. She had lifted up the lid and was peering doubtfully into its
    depths when heavy footsteps sounded on the porch and Greg came
    inside with a load of wood.
    'Does it look all right?' he asked her, a little thread of amusement
    running through his pleasant voice as he surveyed her stooping figure
    and uncertain expression.
    She looked up, grinning. How could I have ever imagined that voice
    hard and cold? she asked herself. 'There doesn't seem to be a family
    nesting inside, so I guess it's safe enough.'
    Stepping nimbly back, she watched him dump his load into the box.
    As he straightened and headed out of the door for more, she called
    after him, 'How would you like something hot to drink after you
    finish?'
    A brief glance over broad shoulders had dark eyes sparkling at her.
    'That would be very nice, thank you. It'll take me about two more
    trips to get this box full, so I'll be about five minutes.'
    'Fine, then I'll go ahead and put on a pot of coffee. Or would you like
    tea instead?' Sara flung her hair off her face as she spoke and noticed
    his eyes touching on her shoulders as it settled back.
    'Coffee's fine.' Greg was quickly outside again, and she left to go and
    plug in her coffeemaker. She was rummaging around in her
    refrigerator when Greg spoke from the doorway. 'Where can I wash?'
    She put down the packages that she had hauled out and went to the
    doorway to stand near him, peering around the corner and pointing
    out the door. As she stuck her head around and turned her face away
    from him, she felt a hand in her hair at the back of her head, and
    looked up enquiringly. 'Is something wrong?' He was very close, she
    realised belatedly, and seemed stronger than ever in such proximity,
    and larger. His face was bent towards her, and she ran her hand over
    the jutting bones under the tanned skin. His lower cheeks and chin
    were getting the finest sprinkle of beard, and she wanted to reach up
    and scratch her fingers on it.
    'Just looking to see if your hair is dry yet,' he replied, running his
    hand through the strands slowly. He frowned. Her hair was still
    damp, being so long and thick, and the strands felt cold to the touch.
    'You really should blow your hair dry. What if you get sick again?
    There aren't any neighbours within calling distance, and you'd be
    quite alone if anything happened.'
    She answered easily, 'I'll just make a list of emergency numbers,
    then. Don't worry so much! I've been alone for years and nothing has
    happened to me yet.' Her eyes moved to the phone book that sat in a
    little cubbyhole just under the cabin's only phone. Walking over
    thoughtfully, she pulled out the book and started to leaf slowly
    through the pages.
    Greg had watched her without going to wash, and he asked her
    curiously, 'Who are you going to call?'
    'Hmm? No one, just yet,' she murmured, still thinking over whatever
    had crossed her mind, and not really paying attention to him as he
    came to stand just by her shoulder. 'I just thought I'd make a list of
    emergency numbers so I would have at my fingertips someone to call
    if I'm in trouble.' She didn't look up, pointing with a forefinger to the
    inside flap of the book. 'It looks as though there's already a list made
    out in front.'
    Greg was still frowning thoughtfully as he perused the numbers. 'It
    would take time for these people to get here—look, that hospital
    number is a different area, at least half an hour's drive away. Can I
    give you my number to call if you need anything? I can be over here
    in less than ten minutes if anything is wrong.'
    Sara felt vastly touched by this. 'Greg, that's very good of you. If you
    really don't mind the bother -'
    His lips pulled into a crooked smile. 'No bother, sweetheart. Just jot
    this down, and I'll go and clean up . . .' She scribbled the number that
    he gave her, and as he disappeared down the hall, she went back to
    making sandwiches with a warm feeling inside. He was