In her large kitchen, she went to the phone stand and looked up her neighbor’s number. There was no cell service up here.
Holding the phone to her ear, she walked into the living room while the phone rang a few times. Then Hurley answered.
“It’s Savanna.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” At least, she hoped so. She glanced up to the railing that exposed the loft and hallway and the still-closed guest room door.
“It’s snowing pretty good out there,” he said.
“Yes. A man got stuck on my road. He told me that he was on his way to that cabin across from your lodge. Have you heard anything about that?”
“No. Chavis keeps to himself. I’ve only met him a few times. Why? Are you worried?”
“No.” She relaxed a little. Korbin had said the man’s name was Chavis.
“How did he end up at your place?”
“He took a wrong turn and got stuck on my road. I didn’t have it plowed.”
“I bet you aren’t happy about that.”
Hurley knew her well enough to know she liked her isolation. Most people who lived up here did. They weren’t city folks.
“I’ll manage.” She looked out the gabled window. Heavy snow falling under outdoor lights didn’t have the comfort value it had before she spotted the truck on her road.
“You sure you’re okay? Robert and I can ride over on snowmobiles. You can stay the night here.”
“No.” Savanna felt trapped in other people’s houses, and she’d especially feel that way now. “I’ll be all right.”
“If you’re sure...”
“I’m sure. He’s harmless enough.”
“All right, then. I’ll call Mike and have him out there first thing tomorrow morning to plow your road.”
“You’re too good to me.”
“I’m a phone call away, Savanna.”
She smiled. “I know. Thanks, Hurley.” He was about ten years older than her and married to a sweet woman who cooked with the skill of an executive chef.
Hanging up the phone, she put the handset down on a side table next to the sofa. Straightening, she turned and her body jolted. Korbin stood there. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs.
He’d changed into a long-sleeved soft-gray henley and distressed denim jeans. His feet were bare. Back up at his face, she was drawn into his ghost-gray eyes. Messy, thick black hair was cut to about an inch and a half, and stubble peppered his jaw. He had an unnerving way about him. More than his size, an eerie mystery shrouded him.
“Feel better now that you’ve checked up on me?” he asked.
Was he insulted? No. She saw that he was teasing her.
“I promise I won’t bite,” he said.
“Okay, but I might.” She smiled but the message was clear. She would bite if he got out of line.