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reminding her of what she’d been searching for in the first place. She inched her way to the darkest corner, hoping any critters who might have called this cave home had scurried out, preferring the warmth of the summer prairie to the cool darkness. She found the stash of tinder and dry wood they’d left well before her brother’s death, still hidden behind a boulder.
    As she emerged into the meager light carrying an armful of firewood, Pierce had pulled out the bag of sandwiches and trail mix his mother had insisted on him bringing. When he saw what Roxanne held, he dropped the bag next to the stone ring and relieved her of her burden. “You shouldn’t be carrying that. You might get that gash bleeding again.”
    She thought about arguing but decided it wasn’t worth it. Besides, her arm really did hurt. If he wanted to take care of the fire himself, that was fine with her.
    Within minutes a cheerful fire burned brightly, lighting even the darkest corners of the cavern, chasing away the shadows and spiders.
    Roxanne laid her saddle blanket on the ground beside the flames to dry, and then collapsed in the dirt close to the fire, grateful for the warmth as the chill of damp clothing set in. Her teeth clattered together, the ache in the back of her head intensifying as the painkiller she’d taken earlier wore off. She rubbed the knot at the base of her skull, kneading the soreness, hoping to ease the ache in the absence of medication.
    “Here, let me,” said a brusque voice from behind her, and her fingers were brushed aside.
    Warm, callused hands curled around her neck. Thumbs avoided the lump, smoothing the hair and skin in gentle circles.
    Tense muscles relaxed, the soreness fading as Roxanne pushed aside the fact that Pierce was the source of her relief. For a moment, she let the heat of his fingers chase away the chill inside, leaning back into his broad chest.
    The thumbs stilled, and his hands froze against her skin.
    A shiver, originating at the base of her spine, rocketed all the way up her back, shaking her violently. Once the trembling began, it didn’t abate.
    His hands jerked away from her and he stood, backing up several steps. “You have to get out of those wet clothes.”
    “And w-what am I s-supposed to wear in the m-mean time?” she quipped, the chattering of her teeth taking the barb out of her response.
    “Wearing nothing is better than keeping the dampness against your skin. The moisture conducts heat away from your body.”
    “I know that.” Still, she couldn’t quite stomach the thought of undressing in front of him. With everything that had happened with the shooter and her injury, she felt too vulnerable. Common sense told her that she needed to get the clothes away from her skin, but every instinct protested. She couldn’t let herself be weak where Pierce Thunder Horse was concerned, lest it create a leak in the dam of emotions she’d held in check since he’d returned.
    Stubbornly, she wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them up against her body for more warmth. Her body’s trembles turned into bone-shaking shivers, so violent she thought she’d rattle apart.
    “Good grief, woman. It’s not as though I haven’t seen you naked before.” He grabbed her hand and urged her to her feet, standing her in front of him. His hands clamped down on her shoulders and he rubbed them through the damp cotton of the T-shirt she wore.
    “You’re freezing. I suspect shock is setting in from your fall and injury. If we don’t get you warmed up, you could have some serious problems, and we both know that there’s no way I could get you some help until the weather clears.”
    “Well, when you put it that way.” She pressed her hands into his chest, pushing against him. “I can undress myself.”
    He let go of her, his lips twisting. “Go for it.”
    Her fingers fumbled with the hem of her shirt. They shook so hard, she couldn’t manage to pull it up over her torso. “I don’t