Slow Hand (Hot Cowboy Nights, #1)(33)

“Not really. I’ve never fired any guns,” she confessed. “To be honest, I’ve never liked firearms of any kind.”

“Like ’em or not, a gun can save your ass. You should at least learn how to use one.”

“I’ve never felt the need for that kind of protection before.”

“That’s only because you’ve never stared down a wolf, mountain lion, or grizzly bear. The minute you faced any one of those, I promise you’d be pretty damned thankful for a loaded gun.”

She glanced at the rifle with a nervous laugh. “Then Dirk wasn’t joking?”

“No. He wasn’t. You thought he was?”

“I thought he was just trying to intimidate me into staying behind. He seems that type, rather chauvinistic, I mean.”

“You’d be right about that part.” He laughed. “But it’s too late now for me to take you back. It would be dark before we even got off this mountain.”

“Don’t misunderstand me. I didn’t ask to go back.”

“But you’re sorry that you came?”

The elk bugled again. She looked from Wade to the rifle and back again.

“Not as long as you know how to use that thing.” When he cocked a brow Nikki couldn’t resist the urge to add, “Just ’cause you’ve got the tool, doesn’t mean you know how to use it.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he replied with a dangerous look. “I know good and well how to use all my tools. But if you need convincing, I’m happy to demonstrate.”

“They aren’t dangerous too, are they?” she asked with growing unease. “Aren’t elk just another kind of deer?”

“Big-ass deer, with very large antlers. And aggressive as hell when in rut. A bull elk has only one thing on his mind this time of year, and will charge a man, a horse, cattle, even a damn motor vehicle if he feels threatened.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all.” He laughed at Nikki’s grimace and unlocked the cabin door where he dropped the supplies.

“I thought you said you’d camped out before.”

“Well yeah, I did. Sort of,” she confessed with a pang of guilt. “I once spent a week at a Girl Scout camp on Lake Lanier.”

“Now you tell me? This ain’t the Girl Scouts.”

“I didn’t want you to leave me behind.”

“Well, sweetheart, you’re stuck here now whether you like it or not. You’d best stay inside until I get back. I’ll take the rifle in case I get attacked by a horny elk…or find something better to eat than the Spam or jerky that’s probably in those packs.” He left her with a shit-eating grin on his face and the rifle propped on his shoulder.

*

Unfortunately, Wade hadn’t exaggerated the cabin’s lack of amenities, the jerky, or the Spam. The structure was small, a single room with only a rudimentary kitchen—a wooden cupboard for food and dishes, and a small wood-burning stove. The furnishings were the bare basics as well, a roughhewn wooden table, two bench seats, and two cots. Clearly, the place was never intended to be recreational.

She found the artesian spring and filled a couple of buckets. There was already a small stack of wood beside the stove, enough to start a cooking fire, but not enough to burn through the night. She found matches and gathered enough kindling to get it started. To her immense satisfaction, she had a nice blaze going before Wade returned.

As for food, Nikki had searched the cupboards for anything palatable to complement the dried and canned meats she’d found in the saddlebags but only discovered such gastronomic delights as expired biscuit mix, pinto beans, and Vienna sausages—not exactly the makings of a banquet—but enough to survive on, she supposed. Before she’d completely despaired, however, she found two cans of cling peaches and a half bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

“Your poison?” she asked when Wade came back in with an armload of wood.

“No.” He glanced away. “I don’t touch the stuff. Must be Dirk’s. He spends more time up here than I do.”

“Alone?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah. He disappears every now and then. You can always tell when the walls are closing in and he has to get away. Enough about my brother.” He dropped his hat on the table and came up behind her sniffing the air. “What have we got to eat?”

She laughed. “Are you really sure you want to know?”

His brows kicked up in question.

“There seems to be a surprising variety of cuisine choices.” She elaborated. “We have Spam Classic, of course, but if you care for a bit of Cajun cuisine, there’s Spam Hot and Spicy with Tabasco, or if Tex-Mex better suits your palate, we even have Spam Jalape?o.”

She tossed the three cans at him with a grimace.

“Have you ever eaten it?” he asked.

“Spam? Are you kidding me?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it. Billions of cans have sold worldwide. It’s even considered a delicacy in Asia.” His mouth formed that cocky heart-stopping grin that made her idiot pulse speed up.

“I’ll stick with the peaches, thank you kindly.”

“Peaches?” He cocked his head. “I never tried peaches with Spam before.”