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could only assume was frustration.
    “You have twenty-four hours to come get her. Over.”
    He slapped his hand against the top of the table. “No … I don’t care about any damn storm. You brought this on yourself. Over.”
    Carrie was worried. She really didn’t want to remain with Finn in this isolated cabin any longer than it took to get what she needed for the article. The sooner Sawyer came for her, the better. She needed to be back to work in Chicago. With the holidays coming up, there were any number of social events she’d been assigned to cover. If worse came to worst and she was stuck in Alaska, Nash would forgive her once she handed him the interview with Finn. Even in the short amount of time she’d been with him, she could relay a number of interesting details about the man.
    “Twenty-four hours is my limit. Over.” Finn ended the conversation with what sounded very much like a threat.
    Carrie was left to wonder what he would do if Sawyer didn’t return for her in the prescribed amount of time. Surely Finn wouldn’t put her out in the cold to deal with the elements alone. Would he?
    When he finished he removed the headphones and turned off the radio.
    Carrie remained frozen, hardly knowing what to do or say, so she did nothing.
    Finn reached for his mug and drank down the last dregs of his coffee, and then delivered the empty cup to the kitchen sink. Carrie got out of the chair. Her own coffee was finished, so she followed him, the movement of the wool socksagainst the cabin floor nearly silent. Unfortunately she was closer behind him than either of them realized, because when he turned, he nearly mowed her down.
    With his hands braced against her upper arms, he glared down at her, a deep frown etched into his forehead. “Stay out of my way.” Each word was distinctly spoken, leaving her in no doubt as to the strength of his feelings.
    “Sorry … that was an accident.” She stuttered slightly, and while she attempted to figure how best to get his cooperation, Finn grabbed his coat, hat, and gloves, and after getting everything on, promptly walked outside.
    Carrie stared at the closed door, too stunned to move. She’d had such high hopes for this interview, but if this “coffee time” was any indication of what was to follow, then she was going down in flames.
    Hennessey remained by the stove, seemingly content to stay by the warm fire. Carrie got down on the rug next to him, sitting with her legs folded and her chin braced against her knees.
    “He doesn’t like me,” she told the dog.
    Hennessey lifted his head to gaze at her.
    “I can’t say that I blame him. I barged into his life, and now I’m paying the price.”
    To her delight, Hennessey lifted his chin and then rested it on top of her foot. Although Finn had warned her that he might bite, she gently placed her hand on the top of his head.After giving him a moment to adjust to the feel of her touch, she stroked the length of his spine.
    “You’re nothing like the big, bad wolf Finn makes you out to be,” she whispered. “You’re a big puffball.”
    Well, at least Finn’s dog liked her, and for now that was enough. She continued stroking his fur, burrowing her fingers into his thick coat. “Maybe I should interview you instead,” she suggested quietly. “How does that sound?”
    The large wolf/dog didn’t indicate his feelings on the matter one way or another.
    “Hennessey, tell me, what’s it like …”
    The door opened again, and Finn came in along with a blast of frigid air and an armload of wood. Thankfully, he shut the door and latched it. He set the wood down by the stove, stacking it for the night.
    “Can I do anything to help?” Carrie asked.
    “Leave.”
    “I can’t,” she whispered.
    “Don’t I know it.”
    “I’d hoped … I’d assumed that Sawyer would fly me in to meet you, and the two of us could briefly chat and then I’d be on my way, mission accomplished.”
    “And now I’m stuck