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outside and had made a stop to stoke the fire before discovering her in his office. And she was far too aware of the heat and strength of his body just a deep breath away from touching her again.
    When his fingers brushed hers as he took the mike from her hand, a jolt like an electric shock sizzled through her blood. She bolted out of the chair and backed a few feet away, hugging her hand, still warm and tingling from his touch, to her breast.
    Unable to look away, she watched him in profile as he ignored her and spoke into the mike.
    “Morning, Scarlett. How are things over at Crimson Falls? You holding up okay in this storm? Over.”
    Another sensation slammed through her chest at his words. Not his words so much as at his tone of voice. The sensation was jealousy. Even though it caught her off guard, even though it made no sense, she didn’t pretend to mistake it for anything other than what it was.
    Those few words, spoken to a faceless woman, held tender concern, an intimate, affectionate regard. After hearing little but curt, hard-edged tones from him yesterday, it was like comparing sandpaper to velvet, reminding her how precarious their position here was.
    “We’re fine, Abel. This storm’s a doozy, isn’t it? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen snow set in this fast and deep so early in the season. Over.”
    “Looks like we’re in for a long winter,” he said, casting a glance out the window. “So, are you going to be able to handle it? Over.”
    “No problem. We’ve got plenty of wood. I just stocked up on groceries, and even though the phones are out, as long as the radio works, we won’t go stir crazy up here. Over.”
    “I’ll hear from you if you need anything. Over.”
    It wasn’t a question as much as it was a command. Clearly he cared about this woman and her daughter. And evidently, there wasn’t any other man in their life to take care of them.
    “You know we will. What about things there? Casey says Nashata is still holding out on us. Over.”
    “Won’t be much longer now. Tell her not to worry. She’s still got first pick of the litter. I’ll radio just as soon as I can after the big event. Over.”
    “And what about you, Abel? Are you holding out on us too? Is Mackenzie the, ah, guest J.D. told me you were expecting?”
    Listening in silence to the conversation, Mackenzie quickly added two and two and came up with a colossal six. Scarlett Morgan could only be referring to J. D. Hazzard. It was J.D. and his wife, Maggie Hazzard, who had been listed as references in Abel’s ad. Scarlett’s mention of J.D implied that she was a friend of his, too. Based on the familiarity and the affectionately curious quality of her question, it also suggested Scarlett knew about the mail-order bride business.
    Mackenzie held her breath, waiting for Abel’s reply.
    “J. D. Hazzard’s got a big mouth,” he muttered.
    “And a big heart,” Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. “I swear, that man is not going to be happy until he sees us both married and—”
    “Miss Kincaid and her brother got caught in the storm,” he cut in, dodging any further discussion about marriage. “It seems Mother Nature is indiscriminate about who she strands and where. Over.”
    Mackenzie’s heart, along with her hopes, sank a little lower. He was deliberately letting Scarlett think she and Mark were accidents of the storm and nothing more. He obviously didn’t want Scarlett to know the significance of Mackenzie’s presence. Which made her even more uneasy about what he planned to do about them.
    Scarlett was evidently disappointed, too. After a long pause she came back on the air. “Oh. Well. I was hoping that maybe... well... you know.”
    Abel hit the switch. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Scarlett? Over.”
    It didn’t take a degree in advanced psychology to figure out that Abel wanted to close this conversation. Scarlett took the hint.
    “No,” she said carefully. “As I said, we’re