Mountain Wilds Bundle by Hazel Hunter

and stared straight ahead.
    What is he thinking?
    She thought of the two of them, next to the fire. He’d said kissing her was wrong–that she was on the rebound. Was that true? Though the divorce had only been complete yesterday, she’d been living alone for six months now.
    He pulled his truck into her driveway.
    “Here we are,” he said but he didn’t smile.
    Maybe the lean-to had been a mistake. A pang of dread lanced through her chest.
    In moments, he was out of his door, jogging around the front of the truck, and opening her door. She handed him her crutches but, instead of holding them for her, he rested them against the truck.
    “Logan,” she started. “I think I better–”
    But before she could finish or even get her feet outside the tall truck, he had reached in and was picking her up.
    “Your knee ,” she said as he lifted her out.
    “Never felt better,” he said.  
    Though she put her arms around his neck, she scowled at him.
    “Okay,” he said, seeing her reaction. “It feels better than it has in a long time.” He looked at her and smiled. “No exaggeration.”
    It was the first time he’d smiled since they’d left the hospital and she found it buoyed her. She couldn’t help but smile back. At the front door, he slowly set her down so she could put her weight on the good foot.  
    “Let me get your things,” he said.  
    She took the keys from her jacket pocket, unlocked the door and opened it. The sun had nearly set and was casting its orange light through the doorway. As she limped through, she heard Logan behind her. She pocketed the keys and turned to him as he set down her doctor’s bag and leaned the crutches against the arm of the couch. His face was in shadow as he turned to her.
    “I’ll bet you can’t wait for that hot shower,” he said.
    She forced a little laugh.
    “Right,” she said quietly.
    That’s what she’d said that night in the wilderness but now a shower was the last thing on her mind. He must have heard something in her voice.
    “Jules, what’s wrong?”
    “I don’t know,” she said. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
    “What?” his silhouette said. “Why?”
    “Well…” Now that she had to put it into words, she didn’t know what to say. “You’ve been quiet.”
    As if to prove her point, he was silent for several seconds and she realized she was holding her breath.
    “A lot happened,” he said quietly. “We’re both tired and you need to rest.”
    His voice was so neutral–so controlled.
    “What I need,” she said, “is to know we’re okay.” She paused. “So, are we okay?” Though she’d meant to let him answer, the stress of the last two days suddenly came welling up. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you.”
    He was silent again.
    She took a deep breath. He’s right. We’re both tired. Time to call it a day.
    “I had a chance to kill someone today,” he said quietly.  
    “What?” she said.  
    Though she looked into his face, it was still in shadow. She moved toward the door and to his right so he’d turn. As the last red rays of the sun lit the side of his face, she saw the stubble of his day-old beard, the strong jaw and high cheekbones, and then the look in his eyes. From the sound of his voice, she’d thought he’d have that faraway look but he didn’t. He looked directly into hers and put his hands around her waist.
    “I had a gun in my hand,” he said. “My finger was on the trigger.” He paused and looked over her head but she reached up to his face and he looked at her again. “And in a different life, I pulled that trigger.” He frowned as his eyes narrowed and he seemed as though he were about to look away again but he continued. “But not today. The past truly is the past. I can choose to drag it with me or leave it where it belongs.” His eyes searched hers. “Does that make sense?”
    He killed someone in the war.  
    She remembered his nightmare in the lean-to and the