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their own pelts rather than help you.”
    “What if they come back?”
    “They won't find you here. There is no way there are any tracks out there leading to here. And the pass is no doubt completely blocked now and will be until a thaw comes. And that won’t be for another couple of months.”
    She brushed away her tears. “I don’t want them to die. But while Kurt is alive I might never be able to return to my family.”
    “Once they know you are mine, that you are no longer what the tiger wants, surely they’ll leave you alone.”
    “I hope so.”
    “Hey, let’s eat. Even rice and beans will help you feel better.”
    Her stomach rumbled in response. “I can’t believe that I am looking forward to eating something so bland, but I am so hungry it will taste wonderful.”
    “You don’t know anything about my cooking. But it shows how optimistic you are.”
    “I’m sure you are an expert at survival rations.”
    He laughed. “There are times when I think I can’t ever eat another grain of rice. But when it’s all you have, then you eat it.”
    They went together to the kitchen, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders. There he pulled out pans and began to cook the rice. He had vastly undersold his culinary skills. After opening a tin of sweet corn and tuna, he had a tasty meal ready for them. Fiona had made coffee and looked in his cupboards to accustom herself to where he stored everything. Although the kitchen was small, it was well organised. It was evident that he had lived here alone for some time. There was nothing feminine about the place.
    She closed the store cupboard. He was right that there was not enough food for two of them for more than a couple of weeks at best. She wanted to know one thing. It was a question that had burned in her brain all day. A question she needed the answer to if she was ever going to feel at home here.
    “Hal?”
    “Hmm,” he said, ladling the food onto plates.
    “Why did you choose to live up here all alone?”
     

Chapter Eleven – Hal
    His hand stilled; he had never been asked that question. That’s not to say that people didn’t talk about him and ask it of each other, but to his face, no one had dared. Not surprising when you considered what the answer was. Who would dare to ask someone who had nearly killed another man in a fit of rage why they stayed out of the way, high up in the mountains?
    “It’s safer when it’s just me,” he said, wondering if his words would encourage more questions. Of course they did.
    “Safer?” she asked, and then added quietly, “for whom?”
    “Other people.”
    “Other people like me?” A tremor laced the question.
    “No. No, not at all. I could never hurt you. Never.” He thought back to the day that had changed his future. Was he still that man? “I don’t think I could hurt anyone anymore. But once ... I nearly killed a man.”
    “In self-defence?”
    He shook his head. “No. At least not directly. It was in a fit of rage.”
    “Will you tell me?”
    “I was young. People passed through Bear Creek more often. We were drinking; this guy came along, I couldn’t tell you his name, but his face is forever etched in my mind. He had a gun. Said he was going up the mountain to hunt bears. That the population hereabouts had got out of hand.”
    He began to serve up the rice and beans, his expression distant as he recollected the day that changed his life. It had been a long time since he had thought about it. In some ways, it still made him experience the same raw emotion. In others, it felt as though it had happened to a different person. As though he was watching it on a TV, with actors playing the parts.
    It was before Brad was sheriff; the old man, Franklin Turner, was in charge of the town. He politely told this guy that guns were not permitted in Bear Creek. The idiot told Franklin that he had never heard of such a law and he planned to go out and get himself a bear hide before the night was out.