He glanced over his shoulder as he squatted in front of the stove. “There’s a small propane torch in one of the cabinets. Even a tyro could get a blaze going.”
She chuckled, and was glad to realize her mood had improved dramatically. For all the wrong reasons, but it was still an improvement.
With the touch of a single match, the tinder caught and soon flames were dancing along the thicker strips and igniting the bark on the split logs.
Craig remained squatting, watching until he was sure it was burning well, then closed the stove’s door.
“So how did your day go?” he asked her.
“Absolutely nothing happened. I didn’t see anything, either.”
“Good. I guess Buddy got the message.”
“Apparently. What about your day?”
“That was a little more problematic. I tried to radio you to tell you I was headed your way, but you didn’t answer.”
“Really? The radio didn’t even crackle all day. Oh, sheesh!” Rising, she went over to her bag and pulled it out. “I can’t believe I did that! It was off.”
He straightened and gave her a crooked smile. “I guess you really didn’t want to be disturbed.”
But she didn’t find it amusing. Still holding the radio, she returned to the chair and sat staring at it. This wasn’t good. “This isn’t like me.”
Craig pulled up the split log bench and sat close, facing her. “Maybe it’s the altitude change. We’re just about eight thousand feet here.”
“Maybe.” But she doubted it.
“Talk to me, Sky. I’m sure I’ll understand at least some of it.”
He probably would. The question was how much of herself she wanted to expose.
“Okay,” he said after a minute. “I’ll tell you something about me. Fair enough?”
She nodded and reluctantly looked up from the radio. She didn’t want to gaze at that attractive face again, into those gray eyes that seemed almost bottomless at times. He drew her, and she was uneasy about that pull. It couldn’t possibly lead to anything good, not in the long run.
“I’m thirty-four,” he said. “I separated from the marines at twenty-two, then went to college. I studied biology and I’m a thesis away from my master’s in wildlife conservation.”
“Really? That’s impressive.”
“It’ll be impressive when I finish the thesis. I’m planning to spend the winter on it. I’ve been collecting data since I joined the Forestry Service six years ago but the university is starting to get impatient with me.” Another of those half smiles. “Can’t say I blame them. Anyway, never married, never felt the urge. Most women can’t stand the way I live my life.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m in the woods a lot. Even in the winter. Too much of a free spirit, I guess.”
“I can understand why you like it out here. I like it, too. If I made enough from my painting, I’d get myself a cabin just like this one and paint full-time.”
“Yeah?” He seemed to like that. “You wouldn’t go crazy from isolation?”
“I hardly notice isolation when I’m painting. Maybe that’s one of the things that drove my ex-boyfriend crazy about me. He said I didn’t pay him enough attention.” She resisted mentioning the lousy lover part. “Between my work with veterans, which sometimes drained me, and the times I’d lock myself in my studio endlessly, he felt neglected.”
Craig tilted his head a little, clearly thinking about it. “The guy sounds selfish to me.”
“He sounds ordinary,” she argued.
“Maybe so. I guess I’m strange. I wouldn’t have a problem with any of that, maybe because I’m the same way myself. I occasionally stay in the field for a week or more at a time. Sometimes I get radio calls asking if I’m still alive.”
Sky felt her mouth tip into a small smile. “For me it was a knock on the door.”
“Ha!” He slapped a hand lightly on his thigh.
“But what exactly do you do in terms of law enforcement? Is it dangerous?”
“Not usually. I run across campers and hikers, check them out, make sure they aren’t headed for trouble, that they’ve got the proper permits if they’re planning to hunt or fish. Sometimes I run across poachers. That’s a little more dangerous.”
“What in the world do they poach? Elk? Moose?”
“Some of that, of course, but my biggest headache comes from bears. There’s a demand in Asia for bear parts—paws, claws, gall bladders. Lots of money in it for a poacher.”
“I never thought of that!”
“Most people don’t. These types go far beyond someone who kills an elk for food. They can kill dozens of bears on a single