Melting the Minerals Page 2

  "Hey, a real live scientist, right in my cabin. That's something to write to Mom and Dad about."

  "Where are your parents? They don't live here?"

  "They used to, but got a bit tired of the rural life. After my dad retired from the force, they headed for Toronto. This will be a story I can tell ‘em, though."

  "So, your father was a Mountie, too?"

  "And my grandfather and his father, and so on and so forth. As far back as the force goes. All the way back to 1873."

  She shook her head in amazement. “That's incredible. I don't know that I've ever met anyone with a family history like that."

  "Hey, it's pretty cool that you've got an uncle who's a palaeontologist and you're going to work with him. That's something you can write home about."

  "Can't. There's just Uncle Ron and me. I've always wanted to work with him. That's why I was in such a hurry to get here. It's sort of been a dream of mine."

  He considered her for a moment and thought she'd be quite pretty if it weren't for the fact she was wearing about forty pounds of outdoor gear. It was probably what saved her life. But most of it was bundled around her in a way that he couldn't quite see more than her cheeks, mouth and forehead. And those were red from exposure.

  "If you're sure you're feeling better, I'll fix you something to eat. I'm starving. Been on duty for five shifts straight, getting folks ready for this storm."

  "Can I help? It's the least I can do."

  "You can sit on a stool and watch, if you want to. We ought to get to know one another better, anyhow. I'm afraid this storm is going to hang on for a while. Temperatures are going to plummet. But don't worry. I've got a generator that'll keep some space heaters running. If we lose power, we'll be just fine."

  Devin grinned, sipped more of the hot tea, and folded and replaced the wool throw where it had been. Then, she began to remove some of her heavy clothing, as if she had gotten warm and the extra clothing had begun to weigh her down.

  As he worked in the kitchen, Trey surreptitiously watched her. With each layer of clothing she peeled off, the more concerned he got. Doctor Devin Mackenzie was a tall, slender, exceedingly lovely woman. When she took off her knit cap, about two feet of straight blonde hair fell around her shoulders. Her face began to take on a normal colour and her skin glowed with health. He continued to scrutinise her as she rubbed her hands together and held them out to the fire. When she walked towards him, he tried not to stare at the full breasts beneath her tight, navy blue sweater. He could almost imagine them bouncing like two white moons against a sky of creamy skin.

  And his dreams came back to him with force.

  Her jeans, as tight as her sweater, moulded well to her small hips. Like the nebulous woman of his dreams, Trey felt certain her hips would feel excellent in his palms. She shook back her hair as she walked, and he had to look at the frying bacon.

  It had been a long time since a woman had been alone with him in this cabin. Almost ten months. And this particular woman was young, striking and intelligent. He tried to shove a sudden picture of them making love out of his mind.

  But the way she looked, and his libido, made it hard.

  Devin picked up the empty cup of tea from the coffee table. “May I make myself some more?"

  "Help yourself."

  For a moment, she stood beside him and sniffed the bacon frying. “Mmmm, that's great. I love bacon."

  "Not one of those women who's always watching their figures?"

  "I've always had the most incredibly high metabolism. It allows me to eat almost anything I want.” She poured herself some hot water from the pot on the stove, and began looking for tea bags.

  Her words about eating anything she wanted painted another erotic picture in his brain. Trey had to fight harder to get it out of his head.

  He reached past her to show her where the tea bags were kept and inadvertently brushed her breasts with his hand. “Sorry, small kitchen.” What the hell is wrong with me?

  Devin looked up at him and smiled. If his body was half as gorgeous as his face, this man probably had most of the eligible women in the area chasing him. But he'd take a good look at her, like he was now, and see the gift of her mother's good looks.

  When she opened her mouth and tried to converse, however, he'd probably end up like a lot of other men and find some other place to be. In this case, it'd be the other end of the building or up the stairs to another part of the cabin. All she knew how to do was talk about geology or palaeontology. Studying since sixteen left her with the conversational skills of a rock. Which was usually quite appropriate, given her occupation.

  But sometimes, like now, she wished she could flirt, play the damsel in distress or act coy like a lot of other women in this situation might. It would be easier to do if she'd had practice.

  But Devin preferred men who liked intelligence in a woman, and no game-playing. Lately the men of her acquaintance didn't care what she thought so much as how she looked. And when she tried to deepen any relationship by conversing, the subject was about the only thing she knew and loved. And that was her work. And that bored men to apathy.

  She slowly dipped her tea bag in her cup of hot water and studied the big Mountie cooking their meal. He was what one of her women friends would have probably dubbed a boy toy. He had a strong jaw, and what looked like a muscular chest and arms. And his thick, dark brown hair had enough curl to it to give him a boyish charm. His deep blue eyes sparkled with some inner humour, and that square jaw and full set of lips were all strictly male cover-model.

  She found her eyes straying down his frame and deciding he wasn't at all one of those too-thin types. Big, brawny and beefy, without being overfed. Just the kind of guy to whom she would have given a few nights of sinful pleasure if she'd had the chance. Her work and professional bearing, however, kept her from hopping into and out of bed with fellow employees. Though that hadn't stopped some of the people she worked with, it stopped her. It was hard enough to get professional treatment from fellow employees, given her looks, and mixing business with pleasure wasn't her idea of good sense.

  "Bacon is just about done. If you feel up to it, there are some plates and utensils over there.” He pointed towards a cupboard at the far end of one counter. “Can you set the table? I'll make some toast, scramble some eggs, and we'll be ready."

  Devin nodded and went about the task, hoping he didn't see her staring at his butt. “Didn't you say you were just getting off duty when you found me?"

  "Just drove from the other end of the valley. I wanted to make one last check on an elderly couple living up there before the worst of the storm hit."

  "You don't work in uniform?” She looked at his red flannel shirt and its open neck. The glimpse of his chest indicated he wore some kind of a thermal-type undershirt. Snow pants and winter boots completed his outfit, but she began to wonder if the man had lied to her. None of what he wore looked like a cop's gear. Assuming, of course, she could guess what a cop in the north would wear.

  "I changed earlier,” he explained. “These clothes are more comfortable than the uniform. Especially since I knew I'd be chopping wood for those elderly folks. If you're wondering about me, I can show you my I. D.,” he jokingly offered.

  "It's a bit late for that. I'll take your word for it. If you were someone bent on hurting me, you'd have done it by now."

  Trey simply nodded, smiled in acknowledgment of her logic, and continued his work.

  Devon believed him. There was enough police paraphernalia lying around the cabin to ally him to some kind of law enforcement. But it was more a question of strictly wanting to believe he was a cop. That way, she could continue thinking of him as both a lifesaver and a gorgeous chunk of man with a gravity-defying ass.

  Because she had an eye for a good-looking man, and because his rescue had come without judgment, Devin's opinion of Trey gained status by the moment. She sat at the square kitchen table and sipped her tea. “So, you're a sergeant? You don't look old en
ough to hold that rank."

  He grinned. “I get told I look younger than I am. I'll be thirty-two in October. The corporal working with me is twenty-seven, but folks often mistake him for the guy in charge because he looks older.” Trey paused. “I hope he got home all right. I haven't had time to call in to my detachment. In weather like this, personnel there like to keep the radio clear, just in case of an emergency. But the corporal is a good friend of mine and his wife is expecting their fourth baby in a couple of weeks. I'd like to know he made it safely back to his place. Hell of time for a bad storm like this."

  "Four kids? And he's only a year younger than me?” Devin asked in astonishment.

  Trey finished the bacon and eggs and sat in a chair. “Well, there's an explanation for that.” He shot her a mischievous grin as they ate. “You see, we sometimes take police calls from our homes. And there can be times when there just aren't that many calls. Subsequently, we can end up staying home a lot. If there isn't anything coming from our dispatcher to keep the guys busy, the married men can end up finding things to do with their wives that distract them. Kids result. See what I mean?"

  She laughed. “You're saying they have to keep busy somehow."

  "That's about it. Cedar Ridge isn't a haven for a lot of criminals. Just a little rural town.” Soon, he picked up their empty plates, put them in the sink and rolled up his sleeves.

  Devin picked up the rest of the cutlery, brought it to the sink and pushed up her sweater sleeves to help.

  They quickly completed washing the dishes, without much conversation. But when she turned to heat up water for more tea, the lights flickered. Then they went off all together.

  "Stay put. I've got a lantern in the laundry room.” Trey moved to the end of the kitchen for the lantern, but kept conversing, as if she might panic over the sudden loss of power. “I'm afraid we'll have to do without a few appliances in lieu of heat. But that won't be so bad."

  "Dark doesn't bother me. The prospect of freezing does.” She turned to him when he approached with the lantern in his hand.

  "I'll light up another couple of these battery operated lanterns. They won't burn anything they come into contact with, so they're safe. If you find the batteries going dead, there are more in a drawer at the end of the kitchen counter. Help yourself to whatever you need, okay?” He handed the lantern to her.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Outside to the generator shed to get it started."

  Devin looked around the building as another new blast of arctic air struck the outside walls with force. “Trey, it's gonna be colder than a grave out there. Are you sure you should go outside? The temperatures have to be well below zero."

  He shrugged. “Don't have any choice. I'll get on some heavier gear."

  She nodded as he walked into the living room, picked up another lantern behind the sofa, and switched it on.

  "Why don't you take a tour around the cabin while I'm gone? You can pick a room to sleep in."

  Devin watched as he took his lantern and made his way upstairs. The fireplace still burned brightly, but it wouldn't provide the kind of heat they'd need unless they were prepared to be very uncomfortable. She was sure the pipes might freeze, and began to make a list of things to check for him. When she heard Trey coming down the stairs, she turned to him. He was dressed in even heavier arctic-type gear.

  "Is they're anything I can do in here? Run the faucets or anything?"

  "As a matter of fact, that would be a good idea. The pipes are insulated, but they could freeze.” He pulled on his parka, gloves and wool cap, still in the living room where he'd left them. Double-checking his lantern, he walked towards the door.

  "Be careful."

  "I'll be back before you know it.” He paused. “Stand by the fire and away from the door. The icy air can really hurt."

  Devin did as he suggested and watched the big man leave. The air rushing in was colder than anything she'd felt in her life, and she couldn't imagine him surviving more than a few minutes in that white onslaught of snow. Apparently, he had to know what he was doing or he wouldn't have gone outside.

  She decided to make her way upstairs to see about the bathroom pipes. The lantern revealed the first bedroom. A uniform hung neatly on the back of the bedroom door, along with Trey's belt and weapon. She smiled to herself when she saw the homemade quilt, and matching curtains on the windows. Like the rooms downstairs, everything looked equally masculine, but pictures on the walls depicted generations of Mounties in various uniforms throughout history. All the furniture was oak. A braided carpet, like the one in the living room, lay on the floor beside the bed. There was a smaller fireplace in this room, though it hadn't been lit.

  She walked through a small door adjoining the bedroom. The beautiful bathroom amazed her. Dark green towels hung neatly from racks and a matching carpet covered the floor. She noted the polished porcelain of the vanity, the oak-framed mirror over the sink and neat rows of manly grooming accoutrement.

  A lifesaver, nice, well-built, tight butt and neat.

  She wondered how many other attributes he'd pile up. And a sudden, inappropriate picture of them sharing that huge bathroom shower came to mind. Devin had to physically shake her head to chase away the mental image. Not only was the imagined scene highly erotic, but impossibly inappropriate given the circumstances.

  But the image stuck with her all the same.

  Keeping her mind on necessary business, she turned on all the faucets so they ran slowly. As she perused the other rooms by lamplight, she came to the conclusion that the other living quarters were guest bedrooms. Still, each one was just as nicely kept as his own.

  A strange question hovered in her brain. She wondered if she'd ever have a home that consisted of more than what lay in the back of her truck. It was a pathetic comparison next to Trey's well-kept home.

  And she had to marvel at his great decorating ability. That his eclectic tastes matched her own was a bit of a coincidence, but she wouldn't have changed a thing if the cabin had been hers.

  She was about to make her way downstairs, but the lantern light revealed one more room at the far end of the hallway. The door was narrower than the others, so she assumed it was a closet.

  Being nosey, however, she grinned and decided to take a look. When she pulled on the knob, the glaring lantern revealed an office, complete with radio, a neatly stored rack of weapons and, unbelievably, a collection of small minerals and geode fragments carefully arranged in a glass case.

  Devin wondered why he hadn't mentioned he had a mineral collection when she told him her background. She picked up small specimens of diopside, hemimorphite, quartz, tigers eye, amber and many others. One quartz wand was more than six inches in length. She studied it by lantern light and could find no cracks or scratches. A perfect specimen. She carried it downstairs to study by firelight. The flames would make its refractive qualities more prominent.

  Devin absently smiled. Now, she'd have something to talk to a gorgeous man about and he might be able to understand her love for geology. Maybe this guy wouldn't be so bored by her conversation that he'd ask her to “just shut up and look pretty” the way the last one had. And that was precisely why she hadn't stayed with that last man very long ... if the term ‘man’ could even be used in reference to her former beau. Like many before him, he was more akin to a boy.

  Then, she mentally shook herself and cleansed all those thoughts of sex appeal from her consciousness. Who the hell cared if she and Trey had anything in common or not? The policeman and she were here because circumstances had forced them together. What did it matter whether their conversation sparkled or if he found her a scintillating companion? After the blizzard, they'd likely not see each other again.

  Still, if they had to be confined together, it was perfectly reasonable to assume they'd have to talk to one another sooner or later. And the mineral collection was a perfect subject to get an innocent conversation started.

  Glancing at her watch, Devin
found that more than twenty minutes had passed.

  "That's too long,” she whispered.

  She put the quartz wand on the coffee table with the lantern. All sorts of gruesome images flooded her brain. Trey might have lost his way to his generator shed. She'd heard of people becoming lost right outside their doors and freezing to death within feet of their own homes.

  The scenario became so gruesome, she started to pace. She wrapped her arms about her torso and considered what she should do. Five more minutes might be too late. Using that part of her logic she so prided in herself, she decided to find some of his heavier gear, put it on over her own, and go after him.

  Just as she was about to go upstairs to rummage through his belongings, the door flew open and an ice-encrusted man stumbled in. Alarmed, she watched him slam the door, push back the fur-lined hood of his parka, and slowly sink to the floor.

  Devin rushed to his side, silently praying he hadn't been outside too long.

  "Have ... to ... get ... warm,” he brokenly muttered.

  Devin put one of his arms across her shoulders and shivered terribly when her body came in contact with the ice on his. The cold seemed to seep through her thick clothing and into her bones. She helped him to the sofa, where he began to pull off his clothing.

  "H-Help me,” he pleaded. “If I ... don't get off this clothing—"

  "Sit still. Let me do it."

  Trey knew he was dangerously close to not having energy enough to shiver. The snowstorm was not only putting up an impenetrable wall of fierce wind, it was colder than anything he'd ever experienced. But still not as cold as the small fishpond he'd clumsily stumbled into.

  Devin removed his outer clothing. She watched his response as she did.

  Trey was able to help, but only a little. His limbs felt almost as frozen as the world outside.

  She pulled the throw off the back of the sofa, wrapping him the same way he'd wrapped her earlier, then raced upstairs. She soon rushed down with blankets and knelt by the sofa.