Read Best Worst Mistake for Free Online Page B

still warm stew on the stovetop. Nothing fancy, just Dinty Moore.” Something told him this woman was pure trouble.
    She shook her head. “I can’t ask you to stay outside in these conditions.”
    “Why?”His gaze scoured the sky. “Because I’m a cripple?”
    “What? No! Because this is my responsibility.”
    She started rambling about her father, how she’d barged in, inconvenienced him, but he stopped listening. He knew the real reason.
    She’d glimpsed his hand burns, knew about his leg, and now thought him good for nothing, a half-man who couldn’t even secure a tarp over a truck.
    He hobbleddown the step, stepped into a knee-deep drift, and tipped forward.
    A light touch gripped his elbow, steadied him. “Stop, wait—”
    “I said go inside,” he snarled. This was his new reality. He used to be able to hike twenty miles carrying a hundred-pound pack and barely break a sweat. Now even getting to the shed was akin to Mission: Impossible .
    “Do you hear yourself? It’s a near blizzard.”Her brown eyes narrowed, eyes that were sharply intelligent behind her glasses.
    “It’s an actual blizzard,” he muttered, struggling forward. He’d make it to the shed or die trying. He didn’t know if she stared or quietly slipped back inside. Damned if he’d turn around to check.
    F OR THE NEXT ten minutes Quinn lurked by the window above the sink, peering into the swirling snow and gatheringgloom. “Stubborn donkey,” she repeated for the tenth time. Why wouldn’t Wilder accept her offer of help? Must be some sort of manly display, a depressing notion when she’d been so fascinated by him for months. And when she mentioned the book orders he had skimmed over her statement as if they meant nothing.
    Now he was out in a blizzard, slipping and swearing, doing a job she could have easilyfinished by now.
    If she had one pet peeve in this world, it was a macho man.
    From the spare room, her father gave a wet snort and a few lip smacks followed by a lengthy snore. There it came again, that niggling pang of guilt. As much as she was annoyed by the present situation, she was also undeniably grateful. Wilder Kane might be gruff and surly as heck, but he’d given her father refuge,and what’s more, calmed and fed him. Dad actually fell asleep, something she couldn’t even manage when he started to get agitated.
    At last the front door blew open and the heavy limping sound came down the narrow, short hallway.
    “All good?” She propped a hand on the mantel above the hearth as if she hadn’t been checking on him.
    He gave a curt nod, slinging his jacket on the back ofa dining chair. “I didn’t need a babysitter.”
    Darn. He’d totally busted her spying. She crossed to the table and picked up the small wooden horsehead that he’d been whittling. “This is nice.”
    “It’s nothing.” He shrugged, brushing snow from his thick, glossy hair.
    Another object lay on the table. A half-finished castle. “Are these all chess pieces?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Fun with Whittling.” She tried for her best smile. “I got that order in the mail for you today. Didn’t know I’d be paying you a house call or I could have saved you some postage.”
    He moved to the oven and stared into a pot. “You didn’t eat any stew.”
    “Not hungry, thanks. I’m a snacker, low blood sugar and all. I nibble on dry cereal throughout the day, pack sandwich bags of Corn Pops and Fruity Pebbles. Mytaste buds haven’t graduated from the third grade, it’s a problem. Anyway, why do you place book orders if you live this close to town? Why not come into the store? Won’t one of your brothers take you? How do you shop?”
    His brows contracted at her game of twenty questions. “Don’t like charity. Sawyer brings groceries in once a week. Otherwise, I keep to myself.”
    “You have a dog?”
    “No.” He sounded wary.
    “Cat?”
    “No.”
    “Hamster?”
    “Nothing.” Exasperation laced the word.
    “Not even a houseplant?” She