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earlier. It looked as if we were on a collision course with a thousand trees. Then I saw a patch of snow. And right after that…nothing.
     
    ***
     
    When I finally regained consciousness, Roy was standing over me. I had no idea where I was. The last thing I remembered was heading for the clearing. There was a look of concern on his face along with some minor cuts and bruises.
    “Good, you’re awake,” he said, smiling. “How do you feel?”
    I touched my forehead. It hurt. After removing my hand, I noticed some blood. “Like I just came out of a clothes dryer,” I said, which made him chuckle.
    I tried to get up, but collapsed as everything began to spin around me.
    “Here, let me help you,” he said as he gently lifted me up to a sitting position leaning against an ejected seat. “You’ve got a beauty of a bump on your forehead.”
    I locked onto his scent, a manly mixture of aftershave and perspiration, surprised at the sensations I was feeling being so physically close to him. Those feelings were reserved for Wesley. Then I caught sight of the plane. The heap of twisted wreckage looked more like an accordion than a plane. We both were damned lucky to be alive.
    “Were you able to radio for help?” I asked, hoping a search party was already on the way.
    He shook his head. “The radio was damaged in the crash. I’m afraid it’s inoperable.”
    “Damn! We needed that radio!” I winced at the pain in my head.
    My outburst and pain-ridden expression brought a fresh look of worry to Roy’s handsome face. I regretted it almost immediately. I tried to reassure him and perhaps myself, as well, by adding, “Don’t worry. The airport controller probably has a search party out looking for us this very moment. We’ll be found soon.”
    “Only if it doesn’t snow,” he said. “Look at the sky.”
    He was right. It did look like snow—and lots of it. The sky was completely covered by threatening clouds, and we were stuck in the middle of nowhere. Crashing was bad enough without the complications of an impending snowstorm. The odds of surviving were going down rapidly, while the possibilities of freezing to death were rising. We had to get help soon.
    Roy must have read my thoughts. “At least we have shelter.” He lifted me gingerly and carried me to a small, abandoned shack he’d found nearby while I was unconscious. Inside were few amenities, but it was better than nothing. He set me down on a small cot. Using the plane’s first aid kit, he cleaned my cut. From where I lay I could see a few cans of soup and beans stacked on a shelf over the small sink. It didn’t look like there was much more in the way of food. And that was probably the good part, because it was getting mighty cold.
    Roy went outside to gather some wood to build a fire. The temperature was dropping rapidly and neither one of us had more than the jackets we wore. I felt the cold dearly, for every bone in my body ached. But along with the ache from bruises was another kind of sensation. One I didn’t want to have. I should be thinking of Wesley. Yet, I found myself drawn to the tall, handsome man with whom I was stranded. I was well-aware such an attraction could be dangerous. Even so, I found him extremely disturbing in every way. When he was near me, I was acutely aware of the fact I was a woman—and he, a man. Fortunately, sleep overcame all further thoughts.
    While I slept, Roy returned and built a fire in the dilapidated fireplace. It gave warmth, but not nearly as much as we needed.
    “How’s your head?” Roy asked his eyes full of concern.
    “The Merry-Go-Round is slowing down somewhat.”
    Grinning, he said, “I’m glad your sense of humor’s still intact. How’s about something to eat?”
    “I’m starving.” I hadn't eaten anything all day.
    He found a beat-up aluminum pot and tried to warm beans over the fire. It wasn’t much, but it took the edge off our hunger.
    We spent the rest of the evening talking. Gone was