Must-Have Husband

again.”
    “What are we going to do?” Connie asked with despair.
    Linda adjusted her cap against the rain that was streaming down harder. “We need to get him to shelter.”
    Connie agreed. Though she couldn’t see for the life of her how she and her petite little sister were going to move this bear of a man. “I know, but we certainly can’t carry him.”
    Linda shook her head. “How about if we drag him?”
    “By what? His beard?”
    “Hang on. Keep him dry.”
    Linda scurried away toward the tent as Connie angled herself over the guy, holding her jacket out sideways to keep as much moisture off as possible. “Hurry it up, will ya?” she called back to Linda, who seemed to be taking her time in the tent.
    “Got it!” her sister proclaimed, emerging with a curled-up bedroll.
    A makeshift stretcher. What a great idea! “You’re a genius,” she told Linda as her sister carted the piece over and unrolled it next to the man.
    “Okay, now help me,” Linda instructed. “Let’s get the top end first.”
    Connie bent low to grip the guy under one arm, while Linda grabbed him by the other.
    “On three! Watch his head, now. One… Two… ”
    Goodness, he weighed a ton.
    “ Three! ”
    “ Harrumph. ” Both girls tugged together, sliding the top part of the man’s torso onto the bedroll. The rain drove down harder, flecking his flannel shirt and dampening their clothes.
    “Better hurry it up,” Connie urged.
    They got his legs on next, then prepared to tug from the head end of the bedroll. “Are you sure this will work?” Connie asked. “What if we injure him further?”
    “What if he drowns in the rain?”
    “You’re right.”
    Seconds later, they gave the bedroll a tug. Nothing happened. They met each other’s gazes, then yanked harder. The man’s hands and arms flopped to the side. “Oh no!”
    Then one of his feet spilled off the bedroll too.
    “We’ve got to keep him in place somehow,” Connie called through the rain that by now was drenching their clothing.
    Linda adjusted her cap and scanned the area. Quickly, she took up the rope that had fallen out of the trees.
    “You want us to rope him?” Connie asked in shock.
    “Just temporarily.”
    Connie watched Linda take charge employing some sort of skill she’d supposedly learned in Girl Scouting. Although Linda’s time in the Scouts had been limited to one year in the second grade, and Connie didn’t believe Brownies were primed in tying people up.
    “Why don’t you just pop an apple in his mouth and be done with it?”
    “Stop it.” She finished her work, securing his wrists and ankles together, and somehow linking both ends before tying him to the bedroll. Linda turned expectant eyes on her sister. “Well? Are you going to help me, or aren’t you?”
    “Yeah, sure.” Connie bent toward the man, hoping to goodness he wouldn’t remember this. This was the kinkiest thing she’d ever done. Even if it was for the right reasons. As she positioned herself near the top of the bedroll, Connie raised an eyebrow at her sister. “Where did you really learn that thing with the ropes? Did Beau teach you?”
    “You, sister, have an all-too-vivid imagination,” she said as they heaved the bedroll forward.

    Connie and Linda sat beside the prone man in the cramped space of the tent while rain pitter-pattered above. He just lay there snoozing, looking none too worse for the wear, considering the beating he’d taken. He stood about six feet tall and was fairly broad at the shoulders, well built with a solid chest. He was obviously athletic and kept himself in shape, most likely by doing rugged outdoor stuff like mountain climbing. Although considering he couldn’t even climb a tree without falling, maybe scaling mountains wasn’t such a good idea.
    Connie glanced at her sister, who was neatly coiling the rope. They’d found a battery-powered lantern with his gear, and it now illuminated the small area. “What are we going to do with him?”
    “Get him to help, if we can.”
    “How can we help him when we don’t even know where we are?”
    “Good point.”
    Connie studied his chiseled face in the lantern’s glow, wondering how he’d look without the beard. Not that it didn’t suit him. It most certainly did, giving him the air of a man of the wild. Someone who was confident — and comfortable—with nature. She fought an urge to reach out and stroke his cheek, just to see how it felt. She’d never dated anyone with