Just Married...Again (7 page)

He grinned. It was refreshing to know there were still women who blushed. “Much better, thanks.”

“Do you remember anything?”

“I remember packing my car yesterday to come here. Seems I remember driving here. It was a mess, all that snow.”

“That’s all?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just concerned.”

He felt hopeful. Surely, her concern had to mean something. “You needn’t worry yourself over me,” he said.

“Of course I do. I’m the one responsible for your injury.”

It wasn’t exactly the reason he’d hoped for, but he managed a smile. “I promise I won’t file charges against you.”

“I’m going to try to make it to the cabins down the road,” she said, “to see if there’s a telephone. I may have to break in, but I doubt I’ll go to jail, under the circumstances.”

He resisted the urge to laugh. If she thought for one minute he was going to let her go traipsing off in knee-deep snow, she could think again. But he knew, short of tying her up, she would do as she damn well pleased. Maddy might be prissy in some ways, but she knew her own mind, and she didn’t let anyone tell her what to do.

“I don’t suppose we ever kept any firearms up here, did we?” He already knew the answer to that. Unlike his brothers on the police force, he wasn’t big on guns. The one sport he did permit himself was archery. He’d been very good in college, winning all sorts of awards. He’d brought his bow and arrow with him, hoping a little target practice would relieve some of his stress, but he seriously doubted he’d have to use it for any other reason.

“You never allowed guns in the house,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“I’d feel better if you were armed. You know, with all these critters about.”

One brow lifted. “Critters?”

“With the trees bare and the ground covered, I’m afraid we might get a few hungry bears.”

“Bears?”

“I’m probably wrong. I’d think most of them would be in hibernation. I just hate to see you take such a chance when the likelihood of finding a phone up here is so slim.”

“You know, you’re probably right,” she said quickly. “Those cabins look very primitive. I doubt they even have electricity, much less a telephone. No telling where we’d have to go to make a call.” She suddenly brightened. “I’ll bet you have flares in your car.”

Michael just looked at her, not knowing if it was something he should remember or not. “I’ll have to check. I wouldn’t send them up today, though, because of the thick cloud cover. Besides, rescue workers are going to be busy with emergencies.” He was trying to buy as much time as he could.

“You don’t consider your condition an emergency?”

“My memory will return soon enough,” he assured her. He went into the living room and dropped a log on the fire. Her pets jumped to their feet and started barking, but he ignored them.

Maddy shushed the dogs and watched Michael stir the fire. She couldn’t believe he could be so casual about his injury. “Danny said you were seeing a doctor for high blood pressure. That probably means you’re taking medication. Might be a good idea to look for it.” When he didn’t answer, she went on. “I’ll bet you didn’t know you had a stowaway in your car. Danny ran away from home.”

Michael was genuinely surprised. He could just imagine what his brother and sister-in-law were going through. “I’ll bet his family is having a fine Thanksgiving,” he muttered. “Probably worried out of their minds. And no way to call them.” He shook his head sadly. He was going to have to hike to a phone after all.

“Danny claims he left a note telling his parents he was going with you. They’ll probably be more angry at him than worried.” Maddy was craving a cup of coffee in the worst way. She suspected there might be enough ice cubes left to melt and boil the necessary water. She dumped the remaining two ice trays into a pot and turned the gas on low. With that done, she started down the hall, both dachshunds at her feet. She grabbed their litter box from the bedroom, where Danny was still asleep, and moved it to the utility room.

“Go potty,” she said to the dogs, who simply stared back at her as though she’d just spouted off something only kitty cats could understand. Rambo ducked his head and wagged his tail, which caused the lower half of his body to move from side to side as though he were doing the hula. Muffin sat up on her hind legs and shivered. Finally, Rambo stepped into the box, did his business, and beamed as Maddy praised him. He gave her a love bite on her chin and jumped out. Since the box wasn’t that big, she had to clean it before Muffin could go.

One thing about being alone all those months, Maddy had plenty of time to train her pets properly. When she was at work, they used their litter box, but once she returned home, she let them run about the property while she watched from her front-porch swing. It gave them a chance to exercise and her a chance to relax. She had purchased several acres so that she didn’t have to worry about them getting in the road or bothering anybody. She had several fat cats and a horse, as well, which she was paying a neighbor kid to look after.

Muffin sat in the box but refused to do anything.

“What’s going on?” Michael said, coming up behind Maddy.

“I’m waiting for her to go potty. She’s not going to get a T-R-E-A-T until she does.”

“Why are you spelling that word?”

“If she hears it, she’ll get excited and won’t use the litter box.” Maddy realized Rambo was jumping on her. “Would you please get him a D-O-G-G-I-E B-I-S-C-U-I-T while I wait for Muffin to go? They’re in the red G-O-O-D-Y B-A-G on the counter. Watch your thumb.”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” He found the bag and reached inside. Not only was there an assortment of treats, he found doggie bones of all shapes, sizes, and flavors. There were also more toys than most children had. Poor Maddy. She was obviously transferring all the love she would bestow on a baby to these hot dogs from hell. He offered the larger dachshund a biscuit, but the animal refused to come close to him.

“Hey, it’s no skin off my teeth, buddy. Take it or leave it.” He groaned inwardly. He’d been reduced to conversing with a dog. And not just any dog, mind you, this particular mutt appeared to be a dimwit. Finally, he set the dog biscuit on the counter, and the dog slinked to the floor with a defeated look. Michael cursed under his breath for loving a woman with such a dog, and tossed the biscuit to the floor. Rambo pounced on it.

“Any luck in there?” he asked Maddy.

“She’s being stubborn, as usual. That’s okay, Muffin, I’ve got all day. You can sit there and pout till the cows come home, but you’re not leaving that box until you do your business.”

The thought that Maddy might stand in there all day made Michael anxious. How was he supposed to win his wife over if she was determined to stand over a dog until the animal finally decided to go to the bathroom?

This was going to be harder than he thought. He waited, but when there was no activity in the other room, Michael pulled on the larger pair of wading boots, grabbed his coat and gloves, and hurried outside.

Although the snow was still coming down, it had slowed considerably. He found a stick nearby and stuck it into the white mass, then pulled it up. He let off a big shiver. There was at least sixteen to eighteen inches on the ground, and heavy cloud cover hinted at more to come. Stepping very carefully, he walked to the edge of the cabin, then, moving cautiously, he turned down the side, heading in the direction of the woodshed. His boot struck something in the snow, and he used his hands to dig. He grinned when he found what he was looking for.

Inside the cabin, Michael shrugged off his coat and kicked off the boots. He glanced into the utility room to see if any progress had been made. Maddy was now sitting cross-legged beside the litter box, arms folded at her chest, clearly in a test of wills with the dachshund. He shook his head and went to the sink, where he turned on the faucet. The pipes below shook and clanged, and he prayed he’d wrapped them adequately. The faucet burped and sputtered, sending forth a rusty stream. He continued to let the water run until it was clear and sparkling. He grabbed the coffee pot, filled it with fresh water and coffee grounds, and plugged it in. Noting the pot on the stove was beginning to boil, he reached for the knob and turned it off.

Maddy shrieked with delight and began praising Muffin, leading Michael to believe the dog had not only tinkled but laid the golden egg, as well. The animal followed her mistress to the kitchen, where she sat on her hind legs in anticipation of a treat. Maddy gave her a dog biscuit, while Rambo, possibly trying to pretend he’d never received his, tried to sit as prettily as his sister. He kept falling down, his paws sliding outward on the vinyl floor, so that he landed on his chest each time. Maddy finally offered them both a slice of ham, while Michael looked on in disapproval.

“They have to eat something,” she said defensively, “until I can get to their food.” She saw the stream of water running from the spigot. A smile lit up her face. “You found the valve.”

“Purely by accident,” he said. “I was on my way out to the shed to see how much wood we had, and I almost tripped over the damn thing.”

“Oh, and you’re making coffee,” she noted, hearing the coffee pot belch. “Thank you. I was dreading drinking instant again.”

With the coffee poured, they each carried their cups to the living room. Maddy sat on the sofa. Michael took the chair. The dogs stayed behind, staring at the refrigerator as if they expected it to swing open and dole out more meat. After a few minutes Rambo jumped up, placed his paws on the door, and barked as though he could will it to open. Once again, Muffin raised up on her hind legs and begged.

“You probably noticed a red Jeep stranded down the road,” Maddy went on. “It belongs to me. In case you don’t remember,” she added.

Michael didn’t answer right away. He didn’t know if he should remember the Jeep or not, since he’d seen it right before he’d been knocked unconscious. He wished he knew more about amnesia; he couldn’t afford to screw up. “Is there anything in it you need?” he finally asked, avoiding the question.

“Just food, clothes, firewood, and dog food.”

“I’m sure we can think of a way to get it here.”

“What we need is a big sled.”

Michael nodded and sipped his coffee in silence. This would give him the opportunity to prove himself in an emergency. Maddy would discover she had nothing to fear as long as he was there to take care of her. A woman could talk about being strong and independent all she liked, but when it came to survival, she needed a man. Already, he could feel an idea forming in his mind. The shed! He could tear the boards down and build the sled from those. Might take a while, might even take a couple of days, since there would probably be a number of rotted boards to contend with.

“Do we have any rope?” Michael asked, already excited over his plan. He envisioned what the sled would look like and how it would glide through the snow when he pulled it. He only hoped the boards didn’t crack the minute he stacked groceries or firewood on it.

“There’s some yellow nylon rope in the utility room,” Maddy told him. She smiled suddenly. “I’ll bet I know what you’re going to do. You’re going to take down one of the doors and nail that nylon rope to it so you can pull it across the snow. Am I right?”

One of the doors? Michael stared back at her.

Maddy pointed to the door that opened into the utility room. “I knew that’s what you’d come up with, since you once remarked how solid they are, unlike most doors, which are hollow inside. Of course, you probably don’t remember that, nor would you remember those old snow skis you absolutely refused to throw away. Your tools are still here, even that rusty saw that you swore would come in handy one day. Guess that day has arrived, huh?”

Michael didn’t know what to say. The fact that she’d come up with a brilliant solution to their problems, while he was still working on some half-baked scheme to tear down a storage shed, did little for his male ego. Her dogs came into the room, and Rambo automatically growled at the sight of Michael.

“What’d I do?” he asked Maddy, holding his hands out as if surrendering.

She waved it off. “It’s just a guy thing. He’s already determined this is his territory, and now it’s a power struggle.”

“Does this mean I’m going to have to sleep in my car tonight?”

She tried to look serious. “No, it just means the two of you should spend some time together. So you can bond.”

“Bond?”

Danny staggered down the hall, hair disheveled, mouth wide open in a yawn. “I’m starving. What’s for breakfast?” he asked.

Maddy smiled. “I don’t know. What do you feel like making us?”

The boy frowned. “Cooking is women’s work.”

“Wrong,” Michael said. “Cooking is for the person who’s hungriest.”

Maddy looked surprised. She could count on one hand how many times Michael had cooked a meal in the five years they’d lived together, and those he’d cooked had been along the lines of grilled-cheese sandwiches and scrambled eggs. His mother, who’d given birth to five boys, each about a year apart, claimed she hadn’t had time to train them to do anything for themselves, so she simply did it for them. Maddy discovered almost immediately after their marriage that Michael was helpless when it came to taking care of a household. Not that she had any room to judge. Having been raised by nannies and servants, she had been forced to learn to do even the simplest things for herself, once she’d moved out on her own.

She wondered if Michael had found himself in the same predicament after their split.

“I don’t know how to cook,” Danny confessed meekly.

Maddy couldn’t help but feel sorry for the boy. “Tell you what. Why don’t you help Uncle Michael, and I’ll make a nice breakfast. Just give me a second to change clothes.” That brought a smile to his face.

“Let me get my toolbox,” Michael said, stepping inside the utility room and reaching for it on a shelf. He found his saw hanging nearby. He grabbed it and turned around, almost bumping into Maddy. She looked curious. He realized he’d made another blunder.