Free Taking Chances by Jennifer Lowery Page B

against her bright red parka.
    She intrigued him. Her attitude wasn’t friendly or accommodating. More distant, guarded. Not the kind of woman he was usually attracted to . Since he knew pretty much everyone in Dayton , she must be a tourist.
    By time they reached the A-frame log cabin with floor-to-ceiling windows along the front side, Lucas fought dizziness. The slightest movement sent waves of agony through his shoulder. Stepping through deep snow didn’t help his ankle any.
    “Old Doc Johnson’s place,” he said.
    “I’m renting it.”
    The inside looked better than he expected, given it had sat empty for years. Spacious, with a vaulted ceiling, stone fireplace in the corner, matching furniture and nothing of a personal nature that he could see.
    She set his bag inside the door just as the dog she called Ranger bound in, tracking snow over the wood floors. He disappeared around the corner and began crunching dog food a few seconds later.
    Bracing a hand on the wall, Lucas closed his eyes and waited for a wave of dizziness to pass.
    “Sit down before you fall down,” she said, slipping an arm around his waist and forcing some of his weight on her slender frame. For a woman, she was tall, but he still towered over her.
    Too disoriented to argue, Lucas allowed her to help him to the sofa. Heat from the fire warmed him as he slid down and closed his eyes, trying to draw in a full breath. Each time he tried, pain shot through his side.
    “We have to set that shoulder.”
    Nodding, he leaned forward. “All I need you to do--”
    “I’ve done this before. Do you need something to bite down on?”
    He smiled. Hell no, he didn’t need anything. “Just get it done, darlin’.”
    Something flashed in her eyes. She grabbed his shoulder with one hand and bent his arm at the elbow with the other. In one swift, precise move she relocated his shoulder with a tight pop. The pain made his eyes blur. He rotated his shoulder to find it back in place.
    “Nice job,” he grunted. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
    “Girl Scouts,” she said and motioned toward his foot. “Broken or sprained?”
    Evasive on personal questions, straight to the point with all else. Interesting. “Neither. Just sore.”
    She nodded. “I’ll check those ribs and close that wound on your forehead, then we’ll get you to town.”
    She certainly seemed anxious to get rid of him. Jealous boyfriend or husband returning soon? Not a place he ever wanted to be again. Though, he didn’t see a ring on her finger. Then again, Corinne hadn’t been wearing one either.
    While he removed his jacket, she stripped out of her winter clothes and hung them by the door, disappearing into a room at the opposite end of cabin. He heard a drawer open and close, water running and the soft pad of her footsteps as she returned.
    Her jeans and black turtleneck did nothing to hide her trim, athletic figure. If anything, they were more revealing.
    Those incredible violet eyes met his as she knelt on the floor in front of him and placed a bowl of water and First Aid kit next to her. Her gaze was cool, assessing.
    As she began to clean the cut on his forehead, he studied the dark circles under her eyes, the stress lines around her delicate mouth, the angle of her cheekbones. Her creamy skin made him itch to reach up and see if it felt as soft as it l ooked. He always liked jasmine.
    With his wound cleaned and bandaged, she moved to his ribs. Confidently and efficiently she prodded them. Every time her hands touched his skin, she frowned. Hell, yeah, he felt it too.
    “No fractures or broken ribs. Just bruising,” she said and quickly moved back.
    He pulled his shirt down and touched the bandage on his temple. “Nice dressing. Where’d you learn your medical skills?”
    She got up and walked to the door. “I told you I was a Girl Scout. I’ll go fire up the Yukon while you get dressed.”
    Girl Scout, his ass. Girl Scouts didn’t learn how to set a dislocated