She gave the priest a huge smile. “If he’s a pagan, Father, then he’s redeemed himself. He saved me and Baby.”

Father Daar gave her a warm smile back. “That was never a question, girl. Greylen MacKeage is a man who succeeds at whatever he sets his mind to. You were never in any real danger.”

“I’m still waiting for your answer,” the object of their conversation said from right above her.

Grace turned her head and looked up at Grey. “Nothing’s broken or frostbit. My muscles are just so sore and stiff that I don’t want to move.”

He seemed to think about that, staring down at her with assessing evergreen eyes. Finally, he nodded.

“You may sleep, then, if you need to,” he arrogantly told her. “When you wake you’ll eat, and then we’ll take you down the mountain.”

“Where’s my bag?” she asked. “Is it still in the cave?”

He walked over to the table and brought it back to her. “Here. Do you want the tin?”

“Yes, please,” she said. “Thank you.”

He took the tin out of the bag and tucked it under the blankets beside her.

“Thank you,” she repeated.

“Are ya hungry now, lass?” Callum asked, eyeing the lump in the bed where the tin sat. “Cookies aren’t what you should be having. You need real food.”

“The tin’s not carrying cookies,” Grey answered before she could, his gaze not leaving hers. “It’s carrying Mary Sutter.”

A silence so loud it was nearly deafening suddenly settled over the one-room cabin.

Chapter Seven

No matter that they were all safe now, it seemed that Greylen MacKeage was still in charge of this adventure. Grace could only watch helplessly from the bed as the man issued orders like a general.

Within ten minutes the tiny cabin was cleared of Scots except for Grey.

Even the priest was gone. Grace had protested sending the frail-looking man out in this weather, but Grey had been too focused on his plan to hear her opinion. Father Daar was to accompany the pilot’s body back down the mountain and stay with him while Callum and Morgan went into town to notify the authorities and lead them back to the crash site. Ian would return with the snowcat to take Grace and Baby back to Gu Bràth.

And so Grace patiently waited until she had Grey’s undivided attention before she explained her own plan to him.

Only it wasn’t that easy. It’s hard to project authority when you’re lying naked in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin. It’s even harder when the man you’re trying to impress is impressively naked himself from the waist up.

“Do you have some clothes I can put on?” she asked Grey.

He turned from the woodstove to face her, a steaming bowl of stew in his hand and a crooked grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” he asked, walking toward her.

Grace tightened the covers at her neck. “I’m not wearing anything.”

He sat on the bed beside her, the heat from his thigh sending another round of needles shooting through her quickly overheating body. “You don’t need clothes,” he said. “You need food and rest, in that order.”

“I have to get up,” she countered. “I need to get my muscles working again so I can take Baby home.”

He was shaking his head. “You just survived a great ordeal, Grace. You’re still too weak to look after yourself.” He lifted the spoon from the bowl and held it up to her lips. “Eat and rest, and leave everything to me. In a day or two I’ll take you home.”

Grace refused to open her mouth for the stew. She didn’t glare or pout but simply stared at Grey with the patience of a woman determined to regain control of her life. She wasn’t angry. Not yet. Grace understood that it was hard to relinquish authority once it was given.

Grey slowly set the spoon back in the bowl and lifted one brow at her in question. “What happened to our partnership?”

“I’m dissolving it,” she said, tempering her words with a smile. “I owe you my life, Greylen MacKeage, but I want it back now. You don’t have to keep taking care of me.”

He looked as if he wanted to protest but seemed to think better of it. He stood up and set the stew on the table, grabbed his shirt from the floor, and shrugged into it. He then picked up a bundle of clothes sitting by the door and set it down on the bed beside her.

“I thought to grab these this morning when I reached Gu Bràth, just before coming back for you. They’ll be too big, but they’ll be warm.” He reached down and took her by the chin, lifting her face to his. “If you can dress yourself without passing out and prove to me that you can care for your son, then maybe I’

ll think about taking you home.”

That said, he turned on his heel, grabbed his jacket, and headed out onto the porch.

Grace blinked at the door softly closing behind him. That had been way too easy. She looked at the bundle of clothes and immediately felt bad. Only a caring man would have thought to grab her something to wear while trying to save her life.

And to thank him, she had hurt his feelings.

Baby stirred in the crate beside her, and Grace quickly shook out the bundle of clothes. Her arms felt heavy, and her muscles protested, but she forced herself to sit up and slide into the flannel shirt Grey had brought her. She had to roll up the sleeves several turns just to find her hands. Then she took the large wool socks and slipped them onto her feet.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, pulled on the soft jogging pants he had brought her, and stood up to pull them up to her waist. She nearly fell down instead.

Her forehead throbbed, and her knees threatened to buckle. Grace immediately sat down and grabbed her head to make the room stop spinning.

Well, this wasn’t working. She needed to move more slowly.

She was on her third attempt to stand without throwing up when the cabin door opened and Grey walked in with an armful of firewood. Grace slowly shuffled her way to Baby. She was smart enough not to pick him up, but maybe she could rub his back and he would stay asleep, giving her brain more time to get her muscles under control. Her head was still throbbing, but at least the room had stopped spinning.

“Are ya truly this stubborn, lass, or has the cold affected your thinking?” Grey asked from right beside her.

Grace swung around and would have fallen if Grey hadn’t caught her. She swayed against him, clutching his jacket, and looked up into steeled green eyes. But her rebuke turned into a squeak of surprise when he swept her up in his arms and carried her over to the table. He sat her in a chair and slid the bowl of stew in front of her, then shed his jacket and returned to Baby.

Grace stared at her lunch. This was not going well. The bond they had formed on the mountain last night was fading. Stubbornness—on both sides—had replaced cooperation.

Grace looked up to see Grey holding a now wide-awake Baby in the crook of his arm as he rummaged around in her bag for another bottle. She took a spoonful of stew and all but moaned at the feel of it sliding down her throat, realizing just how hungry she was. Grey settled across the table from her with Baby, who was also happily eating, and Grace decided it was time to try another tack with the man.

“Reverse our positions,” she suggested to Grey, who lifted his gaze to her in question. “How adamant would you be right now to get back on your feet and regain control of your life?”

He shook his head. “It’s not the same, Grace. You’re a woman.”

Grace looked down at herself in mock surprise. “I am?” She smoothed down the front of her shirt.

“Imagine that. What has being a woman got to do with wanting control?”

He set Baby on his shoulder and began rubbing the infant’s back as he shook his head at her again. “It’s a fact of nature, Grace. Women are simply weaker. Physically,” he quickly added when she opened her mouth to protest.