Christmas with the Mountain Man (Log Cabin Christmas)

Chapter 4

Lacey

After a restless night, I felt the need to get out of town. I’ve seen on the map that there are big blocks of land and some beautiful mountain houses dotted about further up the mountain. So I jumped in my car and headed out, not really knowing where I was going, just hoping to come across something useful.

What had started as a light drizzle when I set off had gotten heavier and heavier as I traveled upwards. At some point the paved road had turned to dirt track and it wasn’t long before I found myself hanging on tight as the car slid around a bend and ditched itself on the side of the road. I sit there for a couple of minutes, my heart racing fast.

Definitely time to go back to town.

The road has turned to mud and my tires are spinning uselessly. No phone service. Shit.

I’m racking my brain for what I should do. Do I get out and walk? Do I stay in the car?

I get out and am immediately soaked through. And it’s damn cold too. I’m on a narrow bit of road but there doesn’t seem to be any danger of being pushed off a cliff unless someone comes speeding around the corner.

I wonder if I should shelter under a tree but the rain and the cold convince me to get back in the car. Even with the heater blasting I feel the chill in my bones.

I don’t like being stuck in the car and I don't want to freeze to death up here all alone. Panic is starting to set in.

It’s raining so hard now I can’t see anything outside the windows. I feel like the space in the car is getting smaller. Are cars airtight? It feels like there is less air in here. My heart is racing fast. Too fast.

My breath comes in short gasps.

My head is spinning.

It is at that moment the car door is yanked open and a rush of cold air hits me hard.

“What the hell do you think…oh damn.”

Tate is there and unclicking my seatbelt before pulling me into his arms. The rain hits one side of my face as I tuck in closer against the warmth of his chest. His strong legs carry us to his truck where he practically throws me into the passenger seat. Slamming the door behind me.

A moment later he climbs into the drivers side and I sit there shaking as he covers me in a blanket. One hand on my wrist, another on my shoulder he talks to me slowly.

“You’re okay Lacey. You’re having a panic attack. But I’m here and everything is going to be okay. See those air vents on the dash, can you count the bars for me. That’s it. Just slowly. Just concentrate on the dash till your head stops spinning.”

The warmth inside the truck, the comfort of the big blanket, and Tate’s soothing voice, I am soon feeling normal again.

I feel his fingers gently stroke over my wrist. “That’s much better. Your pulse was going a little wild there. Take some deep breaths. You wait here, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I am so glad to be rescued and it is damn comfortable in the cab of his truck. But I still feel cold. My clothes are wet and we are a long way from my hotel. Tate is back within minutes as promised and radios to the station about the car.

“I’ve got the reporter. We’ll wait out the storm at my cabin.”

“10-4 Looks like snow so be careful out there.”

I stay quiet as he navigates the road. I still can’t see anything out the window but he seems to know where he is going. It’s about fifteen minutes later that he pulls the truck to a stop.

“Wait there, I’ll come around and get you.”

He jumps out of the truck but since I’ve never liked being told what to do and I don’t go in for the men having to open doors for me I push the door open against the wind and jump down into the mud.

“I told you to wait!” Tate has to yell over the wind.

“I can walk just fine on my own.” I yell back.

Rain and wind make it hard to breathe, let alone speak. My clothes are soaked through once again as I try and look strong and capable in front of Tate. He has his parker pulled up over his head and yanks me to his side to cover me from the rain as he runs towards the cabin. He holds me so tight that my feet barely touch the ground.

“Sorry it’s a bit run down. I’ve got plans to fix this place up but I haven’t been out here in a while.” Tate goes straight to getting a fire started in the fireplace.

I look around the little cabin. It’s the size of a large lounge room with an open door leading to a tiny kitchen and another door that I hope is a bathroom. There is a set of shelves with blankets and a toolbox. Two armchairs and a small single bed. And outside the rain continues to beat down.

“It’s okay, I’ve stayed in worse places.”

“We need to get you out of those wet clothes. You can wrap a blanket around you while your clothes dry.”

“What?” I try to keep from looking embarrassed at the thought of being naked with him. “I’m not getting naked. How do I know I can trust you?”

He looks over at me with that sexy half smile before looking back into the fire. He stands up and walks towards me and I feel the heat in his eyes. Or is the heat running through my veins?

“You could just trust me when I tell you I’m a nice guy. Or you could trust me because I came all the way out here to save your sweet ass. Or you could realize that if you were in any danger it would be right now, standing in front of me in a drenched white shirt that leaves very little to the imagination.”

I gasp and look down to where my shirt is clinging to every curve. My bra is wet too and he is right about what is on display. Looking back at him I grab the blanket he is holding out to me and hold it tight against my chest.

He raises a hand to slowly stroke some of my hair out of my face. “I know you have a hard time trusting people, Lacey. But I won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t dare mess with such a tough, independent woman.”

There is such a kind look in his eyes. It’s not pity. It’s something else.

….Respect?

It makes my heart feel like it’s going to crack. “I guess I wasn’t so tough when you found me in the car.” I look down at his big boots. His finger under my chin raises my face to look at him.

“I know about panic attacks. When I came home from the army I had…. Well, it took time to adjust to things. I don’t think any less of you. You’re still the tough LA reporter in my eyes.”

There was that smile. I nod and feeling emotions welling up inside me, I flee into the bathroom. My heart beating fast. There is something about Tate. When he looks at me I feel like I’m really seen for the first time. He might talk about my tough exterior but I have a feeling he sees right through it to the gooey mess I try to hide from the rest of the world.