Starry Night

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 with you.”
    “Yes, I know, and I apologize.” Seeing that he didn’t welcome her help with the evening meal, she felt the least she could do was get her carry-on bag out of the way.
    “Is there someplace you’d like me to put my suitcase?” she asked.
    “You mean like in a guest bedroom?” he asked with more than a hint of sarcasm.
    “Well, yes.”
    He snickered. “There’s only one bedroom, and only one bed, and I’m telling you right now I’m not sleeping on the sofa.”

Chapter Four

    This was an unwelcome predicament, and Finn wasn’t the least bit happy. The biggest shock was that Sawyer had turned on him. Sawyer O’Halloran was a friend, a good friend, and beyond reproach … until now. Their brief conversation left more questions than it provided answers. The woman had something for him, Sawyer claimed, but to this point she’d kept it to herself. Finn hadn’t questioned his friend, although the temptation had been strong. Whatever it was had convinced Sawyer to fly her in. To his credit, Sawyer had attempted to reach him.
    After several hours of tense silence, Finn loaded wood into the stove and brought out the leftover moose-meat stew for his dinner. He glanced at Carrie and grumbled under his breath. She was a pretty thing, with hair dark enough to be called chocolate and startling blue eyes, although he triednot to notice anything about her. Women like Carrie Slayton were sure to leave a string of broken hearts in their wake, and Finn was determined not to be one of them. He noticed that she kept touching her head. It appeared to have something to do with her hair, which had twisted into springy ringlets after it’d gotten wet in the snow. She seemed to be self-conscious about it, waiting for him to tease her. He wouldn’t. Truth be known, he found her hair to be one of the most attractive features about her.
    Not good. Noticing anything about the woman in his cabin was a sign of weakness, and Finn refused to allow her to take up one iota of consideration.
    As much as he hated to admit it, what she said about granting her the interview made sense. If she’d been able to find him, then other reporters would as well, sooner or later. He’d ignored that inevitability longer than he should have. Not that her argument had persuaded him—nothing would. Finn wrote the book to share his love of the wilderness and to fill the long, lonely hours of the winter solitude. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected it to be such an overwhelming success. Thankfully, he’d done all the legal transactions through an attorney, with the stipulation that he maintain his privacy. He hadn’t agreed to a single interview, regardless of repeated attempts by his publisher. Despite how it looked, Finn wasn’t a recluse but simply a man whoenjoyed his solitude. He wasn’t about to disrupt his life and become a media darling.
    Finn didn’t dislike women; he simply didn’t trust a single one of them. Those were lessons he’d learned the hard way. His father was never the same after his mother left. He’d grown bitter and hard, and drummed those lessons into Finn. Later Finn had discovered on his own what his father had tried to tell him. Women were fickle and not worth the trouble they caused in a man’s life. He’d fallen for Pamela, but she’d hurt him the same way his mother had hurt his father. Thankfully, Finn had learned early in their relationship that Pamela wasn’t trustworthy. It