The Rogue Hunter (7 page)

"Well what?" Mortimer snapped with exasperation.

"Well, you should go offer her a hand."

Mortimer peered at the younger man as if he were mad. "What on God's green earth makes you think I know anything about cooking?"

"I don't," Bricker snapped. "I just thought you might know at least a little about women and that wooing them means you have to be in the same general proximity."

"Wooing?" Mortimer almost choked on the word.

"Getting to know her then," Bricker said dryly. "Go on, go see if she needs a hand or wants company while she's chopping and stuff." When Mortimer hesitated, he added, "You can ask her where everyone around here goes to party while you're at it."

"Right." Mortimer sighed and headed into the cottage.

Jo had just gone into the bathroom when Sam heard the screen door squeak open and then slap closed. Standing at the sink, draining the boiled potatoes into a strainer, she assumed it was Alex. "How are the steaks doing? I just have to finish draining these and run them under cold water then mix everything up and the potato salad will be done."

"The steaks looked nearly done to me, but then I like mine rare."

Startled by the deep male voice, Sam jerked her head around to see their tall, good-looking neighbor, Garrett Mortimer. Unfortunately, it was not a good move with her ear infection. The world immediately tipped, and she instinctively dropped the pot to grab for the counter and keep her balance. The pot hit the bottom of the sink with a thud and boiling water splashed upward, creating a mini tsunami of scalding liquid that hit her arm. Crying out in startled pain, Sam instinctively jerked backward, then immediately slipped on the hot water on the floor and lost her footing, ending on her bottom on the kitchen's linoleum tiles.

Sam was vaguely aware of Mortimer shouting out and rushing toward her, but stunned as she was by the fall and the pain now shooting through her bottom and throbbing arm, she simply sat where she'd landed, cradling her pained arm and gasping for breath.

"Are you all right?" Mortimer asked, dropping to his haunches beside her. "Let me see your arm."

"Sam? What happened?" Jo cried, rushing back up the hall into the kitchen.

"I'm fine, I fell," she answered her sister shakily, but her gaze was on Garrett Mortimer's face. While Jo looked alarmed and concerned, their neighbor actually looked angry. What the devil did he have to be angry about? Sam wondered with bewilderment. She hadn't burned
him
, she thought, and then gasped as he grasped her arm to examine her burn.

A second slap of the screen door had her glancing toward it to see who else had come to witness the latest humiliation caused by her stupid ear infection. She didn't mind so much when she saw Alex rushing in, but could have done without Justin Bricker, who was on her heels. The man paused just inside the door, his gaze sliding around the cottage, and Sam looked around herself.

Her parents had built this cottage when she and her sisters were just children, and it wasn't nearly as big or fancy as the cottage the men were staying in. While the front was one mid-sized room making up a small living room/kitchen area combo, the back consisted of three very small bedrooms, a tiny bathroom, and an equally tiny storage room holding the water heater and so forth. There was no second level as in the house next door, and the one floor was only half the size of that of the building next door. It was a real cottage, not a luxurious retreat for a rich man… and Sam wouldn't have traded it for the world. There were too many lovely memories tied up in this smaller, cozier cottage.

"The ear infection strikes again," Alex said with disgust, drawing Sam's gaze her way as she reached them. "Are you all right?"

"She's burned herself," Mortimer muttered, and there was no mistaking his tone for anything but being put out.

"Ear infection?" Bricker asked, pausing behind Alex and peering curiously over her shoulder at Sam.

"She has this recurring inner ear infection that puts her off balance," Jo explained, her worried gaze on Sam's arm as Mortimer turned it this way and that to see how much of it had been injured.

"An ear infection, eh?" Bricker said, and Sam noticed that his gaze was firmly on Mortimer as he said that. The man then glanced back to Sam and asked, "Can't they give you something for it?"

"They have," Jo answered for her. "They've given her every kind of antibiotic there is, I think, but it keeps coming back. Her doctor has finally made an appointment with a specialist."

"Yeah, but it takes forever to get in to see specialists. She'll be lucky if she doesn't kill herself before the appointment," Alex said with disgust. "I'm amazed she hasn't already. If she'd insisted her doctor send her to a specialist when I suggested it, she'd be infection-free by now. But no, not Miss I'm-Too-Busy-to-Be-Bothered. She let it drag on and on and—"

"Alex!" Sam snapped irritably. "I'm sitting right here, you know." She scowled at her sister and then paused when she noted the way Mortimer's lips were twitching. Apparently she'd amused him with her grumpiness. That just made her scowl harder.

"This is a nasty burn," Mortimer murmured. He bent over her arm to look closer, and Sam found herself staring at the top of his head. His hair was blond, cut short, and so thick she could barely see through it to the healthy pink scalp below. And he had a nice spicy sort of woodsy smell to him, Sam noted, and tried to inhale deeply without making it obvious she was sniffing the man.

Sam gave her head a shake, wondering if she'd hit it on the way down without realizing it. She was generally so wrapped up in her career that she took no notice of men. And this certainly wasn't a man she should find interesting. He was a stranger. She knew nothing more than his name and that he was staying at the cottage next door.

"Here, we'd best get you up."

Sam blinked in surprise as she was suddenly lifted off the floor and set on her feet by the man who had been examining her arm.

"Do you have any salve for the burn?" Mortimer asked, glancing to Alex as he urged Sam toward the old Formica-topped dining table a couple of feet away.

"In the bathroom," Alex answered. "I'll go get it."

"I'll start mopping up the floor," Jo said, turning to move off down the hall behind Alex.

"Here, sit down," Mortimer said, and Sam couldn't help but notice that his tone was less angry now and a touch gentler for some reason. Earlier he'd sounded like she'd deliberately thrown the potatoes around, burned herself, and tossed herself to the floor.

That thought reminded her of the potatoes, and Sam glanced toward the sink. Much to her relief, while water had splashed out and onto the counter and linoleum, none of the potatoes had. They remained mostly in the pot, with only a couple of stragglers lying in the sink. A quick rinse would fix them, she thought, grateful that was all that would be needed. It had taken her forever to peel and cut those damned things, and bringing them to a boil on the barbecue had seemed to take just as long. She'd have been mighty upset if all her efforts had been ruined.

"The potatoes are fine. Sit," Mortimer ordered, apparently noting where her concern had gone.

"I'll handle the potatoes," Bricker assured her, moving to the sink even as he spoke.

"There, see. Bricker will handle them. Now sit down and let me look at your arm."

"You already looked at it," she said with a scowl.

"Well, I want to look at it again in better light."

Sam opened her mouth and then closed it again. The table was by the window, and there
was
better light here. She hadn't noticed how dim it was getting as the day waned, but now glanced out the window to see that the sun was well down in the sky. It had taken them longer than expected to transfer the food they wouldn't be using to the refrigerator in the cottage next door and then to do all the prep work for the barbecue.

"Here. This should help." Alex reappeared with a tube of cream, which she handed to Mortimer rather than Sam. Her concerned gaze moved over the burn on Sam's arm and then she said reluctantly, "I have to go out and check the stuff on the barbecue. Most of it was nearly done. I was just coming in to see if the potato salad would be much longer."

"I'll finish it up as soon as I put some cream on my arm," Sam assured her, and tried to take the salve from Mortimer, only to have him hold it out of her reach.

"Bricker will tend to the potato salad while I put cream on her arm," the irritating man corrected, brushing her still-reaching hand aside. "We'll be out in a minute."

Alex's eyebrows rose at the authoritative tone the man used, and then she turned away to head back out of the cottage, but not before Sam saw the slow grin beginning to pluck at her lips. Alex was obviously finding this amusing. Sam was not. She was a strong, independent, career woman and wasn't at all used to being treated like a naughty child.

"I can take care of my own arm," Sam growled, a bit rudely she supposed, since the man was just trying to help her.

"I'm sure you can, but I'm going to do it," Mortimer announced, and ignored her stony glare as he opened the tube of cream. Since it seemed obvious she wasn't going to be allowed to do anything else, Sam glanced around to see that Jo had finished mopping up the water and was now busy at the sink helping Bricker with the potatoes. Her gaze jerked back to her arm, however, when Mortimer took it in hand again. She saw with relief that it didn't appear to be blistering.

Her attention shifted to Mortimer's fingers as they gently spread the cool cream over her injured skin. He was being incredibly gentle, his touch feather-soft, and Sam noted that he had very nice hands; smooth and unblemished by calluses or any roughness. Whatever he did for a living, it obviously wasn't hard labor.

"Why didn't you see a specialist when your sister suggested it?" Mortimer asked, distracting her.

Sam shrugged, embarrassed to admit she hadn't been taking proper care of herself. "The infections started about the same time I graduated and started my job. It's been crazy busy while I learned the ropes and…" She shrugged uncomfortably and admitted, "I just kept hoping my body would fight it off."

When he didn't comment, her gaze shifted from the injury he was tending to him, to find that he was looking at her face rather than her arm. His expression was rather odd. It seemed to her that the man had avoided looking at her when she'd first met the men at their cottage, and when he had looked at her, she'd seen traces of what had seemed almost to be resentment or anger. Now, however, he was eyeing her almost speculatively. That made her extremely uncomfortable.

"You take your job seriously," he said slowly.

Sam glanced away and shrugged. "Doesn't everyone?"

"No, I don't think they do," Mortimer said quietly.

The slap of the screen door made both of them glance that way as Alex rushed back in.

"The meat's done. How are we doing in here?" she asked, her anxious gaze moving from Sam and Mortimer to Bricker and Jo.

"All set," Jo said cheerfully as Bricker picked up the bowl of potato salad that they'd finished putting together.

"Done here too, I think," Mortimer murmured, releasing Sam's arm and straightening to stand beside her. "Has Decker shown up yet?"

"Yes, he's down at the lake getting drinks for everyone," Alex said, not bothering to hide her relief that there wouldn't be a holdup and everything was ready. "Shall we?"

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and hustled back out of the cottage, leaving them to follow.

Sam stood up, unable to keep from stiffening when Mortimer immediately took her arm as if to steady her.

"We don't want any more accidents," he said calmly when she glanced at him.

"I'm fine really," she assured him. "I can walk."

The assurance had absolutely no effect. If anything, his grip on her arm became a little firmer as he urged her to the door. Sighing, Sam didn't bother to protest further. It seemed obvious to her that he was used to getting his own way. Why fight him over something so small? She preferred to pick her battles.

Decker had returned from the dock by the time Sam and the others arrived at the patio set on the deck. He was busily putting several bottles of beer and a couple of cans of soda on the table as they arrived. Sam glanced over the table now, silently inventorying everything. She'd set the table while waiting for the potatoes to boil earlier, laying out plates and napkins, as well as forks and spoons and all the condiments that could be needed. There were also the vegetables Jo had cut up and the dip Alex had made for them; two large bowls of potato chips, one barbecue and one sour cream and onion; and now the large bowl of potato salad Bricker had carried out.

"Everyone grab a seat," Alex ordered cheerfully as she set a large platter stacked with cheeseburgers, sausages, and steaks on the table.

Sam began to shuffle forward, held back slightly by Mortimer, who seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. By the time they reached the table there were only two seats left, and those were side by side. She managed not to grimace at the fact that she'd have to sit next to the bossy man as he politely pulled the chair out for her to sit down, but she would rather have sat away from him, like at the opposite end of the table.

Deciding she'd just ignore him, Sam settled in her chair and proceeded to try to do just that as the food began to be passed around. Unfortunately, that was impossible. The man seemed to have decided to take care of her like she was some ailing bird with an injured wing.

The food was circulating clockwise, and since Mortimer was on her right, it meant he got each dish first. Every time a new item came around, he placed food on his own plate and then on hers before passing it across her to Bricker on her other side. He didn't even ask if she wanted what he was serving up either. When the potato salad came by, he served her two large scoops, leaving a small mountain of the snowy dish on her plate. It was soon joined by two large servings of first barbecued potato chips and then sour cream and onion. The vegetables came next, and Sam finally got over her shock at his presumptuous behavior.