Read Online Timberline Trail by Loren Lockner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Loren Lockner
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three minutes or you’ll get an icy surprise. I’ll fetch you guys some towels. If the wolf rouses at all during the night please call me and I’ll try to soothe him since he’s used to my presence.”
“You can count on it ,” Steve said, and gave a slight bow.
“ Well then, I bid both of you a good night. See you in the morning.”
Once inside the master bedroom, Tia closed her door and as quietly as possible latched the inner lock to the large bedroom. If someone really wanted to get in they could, but at least she had the revolver. Agitated and unsettled she sat on the foot of the bed and removed her shoes. Something niggled at the back of her mind but for the life of her she didn’t know what.
Tia brushed her teeth and changed into her flannel night dress before crawling in between the covers after turning off the light. The wind howled and whistled, causing the spruce, pine, and birch trees to creak and bend in the strong wind. Tia had lain under the warm comforter for a full five minutes before bolting upright, realizing what she’d missed before. Jon Simons had politely mentioned he hoped his presence wasn’t keeping her from her writing. How could he have known she wrote?
Tia slept only fitfully, awakening several times as the wind howled through the eaves of the low cabin. Occasionally the entire frame of the sturdy log cabin groaned and she recognized how violent the weather outside had become. Once, around three a.m. and unable to sleep any longer due to the premature storm, Tia rose from her warm bed and cautiously opened the bedroom door. From the cot near the exercise equipment sounds of gentle snoring broke the relative quiet. The fireplace, however, still glowed strongly and Jon gazed into the fire, the leaping flames casting dancing shadows upon his bristled face. Turned slightly toward her, Tia could witness the muscles of his jawbones twitching as he seemed to fight some strong emotion. The house trembled and shook, but Tia swore she heard the gasp of a restrained sob.
Some sort of sixth sense must have alerted the somber man for he turned in the darkness, his dark green eyes seeking hers through the flickering light. He did not seem unduly surprised to observe her framed within the doorway and draped in the unshapely flannel nightgown. A half-smile, half-grimace briefly flitted across his face before he nodded silently toward her. Tia broke eye contact and tip-toed to the entryway door, checking on the wounded wolf as Jon watched.
Sugar appeared to be breathing easier. Though the lap rug lay wadded at the canine’s feet, Tia made no move to open the door and replace the warm wool over the reclining wolf. Satisfied, Tia returned to her bedroom door, aware Jon never removed his eyes from her the entire time she’d checked on the wolf. Now, he simply raised a hand to her in a brief good night gesture before turning back to the flickering warmth of the glowing fire and she closed the door gently, strangely disturbed by the desperate sadness in his eyes.
The snow had completely slackened off by seven a.m. the next morning when Tia finally awoke, still feeling bone weary. Both men had risen and the smell of percolating coffee entered her snug bedroom enticingly. She took a quick shower before rejoining the two men in the front room. Steve had straightened the blankets on his cot and rummaged through his backpack, his blonde hair tousled. He straightened abruptly, eyeing Tia who’d dressed in her everyday uniform of warm blue jeans and a blue-striped wool sweater. Feet clad in her favorite moccasin slippers lined with sheepskin, the large room still seemed chilly.
“A good morning to you,” Steve said pleasantly. “You wouldn’t happen to have a razor a weary traveler could borrow?” He rubbed his rough chin and smiled ruefully at her.
“I think I could scrounge up something,” a nswered a tired Tia, but instead of fetching the desired razor she headed toward the
“You can count on it ,” Steve said, and gave a slight bow.
“ Well then, I bid both of you a good night. See you in the morning.”
Once inside the master bedroom, Tia closed her door and as quietly as possible latched the inner lock to the large bedroom. If someone really wanted to get in they could, but at least she had the revolver. Agitated and unsettled she sat on the foot of the bed and removed her shoes. Something niggled at the back of her mind but for the life of her she didn’t know what.
Tia brushed her teeth and changed into her flannel night dress before crawling in between the covers after turning off the light. The wind howled and whistled, causing the spruce, pine, and birch trees to creak and bend in the strong wind. Tia had lain under the warm comforter for a full five minutes before bolting upright, realizing what she’d missed before. Jon Simons had politely mentioned he hoped his presence wasn’t keeping her from her writing. How could he have known she wrote?
Tia slept only fitfully, awakening several times as the wind howled through the eaves of the low cabin. Occasionally the entire frame of the sturdy log cabin groaned and she recognized how violent the weather outside had become. Once, around three a.m. and unable to sleep any longer due to the premature storm, Tia rose from her warm bed and cautiously opened the bedroom door. From the cot near the exercise equipment sounds of gentle snoring broke the relative quiet. The fireplace, however, still glowed strongly and Jon gazed into the fire, the leaping flames casting dancing shadows upon his bristled face. Turned slightly toward her, Tia could witness the muscles of his jawbones twitching as he seemed to fight some strong emotion. The house trembled and shook, but Tia swore she heard the gasp of a restrained sob.
Some sort of sixth sense must have alerted the somber man for he turned in the darkness, his dark green eyes seeking hers through the flickering light. He did not seem unduly surprised to observe her framed within the doorway and draped in the unshapely flannel nightgown. A half-smile, half-grimace briefly flitted across his face before he nodded silently toward her. Tia broke eye contact and tip-toed to the entryway door, checking on the wounded wolf as Jon watched.
Sugar appeared to be breathing easier. Though the lap rug lay wadded at the canine’s feet, Tia made no move to open the door and replace the warm wool over the reclining wolf. Satisfied, Tia returned to her bedroom door, aware Jon never removed his eyes from her the entire time she’d checked on the wolf. Now, he simply raised a hand to her in a brief good night gesture before turning back to the flickering warmth of the glowing fire and she closed the door gently, strangely disturbed by the desperate sadness in his eyes.
The snow had completely slackened off by seven a.m. the next morning when Tia finally awoke, still feeling bone weary. Both men had risen and the smell of percolating coffee entered her snug bedroom enticingly. She took a quick shower before rejoining the two men in the front room. Steve had straightened the blankets on his cot and rummaged through his backpack, his blonde hair tousled. He straightened abruptly, eyeing Tia who’d dressed in her everyday uniform of warm blue jeans and a blue-striped wool sweater. Feet clad in her favorite moccasin slippers lined with sheepskin, the large room still seemed chilly.
“A good morning to you,” Steve said pleasantly. “You wouldn’t happen to have a razor a weary traveler could borrow?” He rubbed his rough chin and smiled ruefully at her.
“I think I could scrounge up something,” a nswered a tired Tia, but instead of fetching the desired razor she headed toward the
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