Bound to Happen by Mary Kay McComas Page B

cool, crisp morning air to join her. He was dressed much like he had been the day they met—jeans, T-shirt, and a blue-plaid flannel shirt. She followed him around the side of the cabin, and there, leaning up against it was a portable bathtub. Oblong, perhaps four or five feet long and two and a half feet wide, it was made of some sort of hard plastic and didn’t at all appear to be a luxury item. However, it would suit its purpose, Leslie decided.
    “Inside or out?” Joe wanted to know, as if she knew what he was talking about. When she simply looked at him with a bland expression on her face, he explained. “Do you want to take your bath out here or in the cabin?”
    Fool, she called him, from the back of her mind. In the cabin, of course, unless … “Where will you be?”
    “I’m going back after the food, so you’ll have the whole place to yourself.”
    “Inside, then. What’s this?” she asked, looking over a large patch of tilled and well-cultivated ground.
    “My garden.”
    “I see,” she said, taking in the fact that it was barren, wondering when he planned to plant it. Even a city slicker knew gardens didn’t plant themselves. And it was getting late in the season.
    Joe carried the tub in for her and placed it in front of the fire. He apparently had anticipated her needs, as there was a large kettle of water already steaming on the stove. He told her it would take two or three kettlefulls depending on how hot she wanted the bath water, and to be sure to mix in some cold or she’d burn her little fanny.
    Keeping a tight rein on her temper, she thanked him and assured him she could carry on. But instead of going straight to the door and leaving, he walked over to one of the cabinets and opened it. He drew out first a double-barreled shotgun and then, apparently reconsidering his choice, replaced it and took out a very lethal looking pistol.
    “Here, you might need this. Do you know how to use it?” he asked.
    “No. I hate guns.”
    “Well, while you’re here alone you might want to develop a liking for one. You don’t have to shoot anything. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t try to. You can shoot it off over your head or into the ground if you need to. The sound will scare most animals away. But if you aim and hit one, this won’t kill it. It’ll only wound it and make it mad. Understand?”
    “Is it really necessary? I mean, well, wouldn’t a scream do just as well?”
    He seemed to consider her question while he checked to see if there were bullets in the gun. Glancing at her, he then checked the aim of the gun, saying, “I don’t think so. I guess I could stay, but like I said, I planned to go back to get the rest of our food while you took your bath. But if you want to take the risk that I might peek at you while you’re bathing, well, who am I to argue?” His careful expression told her he’d definitely peek.
    Torn, Leslie sought an alternative. There didn’t seem to be one. Given the choice between having to carry a gun, which was abhorrent to her, and having to put up with this fool of a man trying to catch a cheap thrill by peeking at her, her decision came fairly easily. “Okay. Peek if you want, but I’m not going to use that gun.”
    Joe frowned. “Really? You hate guns that much?” When she only nodded, he continued contritely. “I was hoping you’d take the gun and save me the time. But if you really feel that strongly, I’ll wait for you. There’re clean towels in the bottom dresser drawer.”
    “Thank you.” She got the feeling that whatever it was that he was saving his time for was important to him. So she asked him about it while they waited for more water to boil.
    “I have a deadline I’m trying to meet. I lost a day and a half with the accident, and I was hoping to make it up today,” he explained.
    He wasn’t accusing or blaming her for anything, but then he didn’t have to. Leslie was packing around enough guilt these days to saddle herself