Even in the poor lighting, he saw the stress around her eyes. She turned away and headed toward the ladder back to the loft.

“Good night, Chris.”

She disappeared and he heard her murmur a few words to Violet, and then the cabin was still.

He stood in the silence and listened.

The next morning Gianna poured coffee as she watched Chris scramble eggs.

Somewhere there’s a woman missing out on this guy who likes to cook.

Gianna had been up for five minutes. Long enough to wash her face, pull her hair into a ponytail, and rouse Violet. The odor of coffee had filled the cabin. Violet had refused to open her eyes when Gianna woke her until her brain registered the smell and sound of frying bacon.

“Good morning,” Chris said.

“Good morning,” Gianna echoed. “What’s the weather doing?”

He lifted a brow as he stirred the eggs. “It’s definitely warmer. Doesn’t look like we’ll be getting more snow. The snowplows haven’t come down our road yet, but maybe they will later.”

“Good!”

Chris stiffened and then abruptly turned to look out the window.

It took Gianna a few additional seconds, but she heard the faint roar of an engine. “That sounds like a snowmobile.”

Chris nodded. “A few people have them up here. I’ve been thinking about getting one. It would have been handy yesterday.” He set down his whisk, turned off the stove, and walked over to the window near the front door.

Gianna noticed he stood to the side of the window, out of sight of anyone who might be approaching. Tension had filled the room, confusing her. Shouldn’t we be relieved someone is out and about? The engine noise grew louder and Chris stood immobile, his gaze focused out the window. His right hand twitched at his side as if he wished to grab something.

His shoulders relaxed. “It’s one of the rangers. He may have found the note I left in your vehicle. Or he’s just checking on everyone in the area.”

Gianna wrapped a throw around her upper arms and moved to look out the window. A man in a heavy coat removed his goggles as he strode toward the door of the cabin. His coat had patches showing the insignia that identified him as an employee of the US Forest Service. Chris opened the door as the ranger stepped onto the small covered porch.

“Good morning,” Chris said as the ranger stomped the snow off his boots.

“You Chris Jacobs?” The ranger was rather short, with a narrow face and a thick beard. He touched the brim of his hat at Gianna as she peered around Chris, who’d blocked most of the doorway with his body. Chris nodded at the ranger.

“I’m Francisco Green with the forest service.” He paused, looking back and forth between Gianna and Chris. “I found your note in the Suburban at the Abell cabin. What the hell happened over there?”

Chris watched the forest ranger politely accept the coffee Gianna handed him and wrap chilled fingers around the mug with a sigh. He’d asked them to call him Frisco.

The three of them had taken a seat at the small table after Chris invited Frisco inside. The ranger had serious eyes and Chris had yet to see him smile, but he’d shown concern over Gianna and Violet’s escape from the cabin.

Frisco hadn’t mentioned the burning flesh odor, and Chris wondered if he’d looked inside the damaged cabin. Probably not. The cabin shell was an accident waiting to happen.

Violet emerged from the tiny bathroom, her face damp from a wash, and joined them at the table after grabbing a slice of bacon. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head when Chris asked if she wanted coffee.

“We’re not sure what happened,” Gianna said. “My daughter and I were both asleep when the fire started. She woke first and managed to get me out.”

“Get you out?” Frisco repeated. He scowled and scratched at his beard.

Chris ran a hand over his own three days’ worth of light stubble and briefly pictured himself with a full beard.

Nope.

Gianna looked down as she traced a gouge in the table with her finger. “I couldn’t wake up. I honestly don’t even remember her getting me out of the cabin, and then I vomited several times during the night as we waited in the car. There’s a possibility I was drugged.”

“What?” asked Violet, her eyes opening wide as she stared at her mother. “What are you talking about? How were you drugged?”

Chris studied her for any signs of guile; he saw none. The girl seemed sincerely stunned by her mother’s comment.

Frisco’s dark eyes silently scrutinized Gianna, and she squirmed. His stare was intimidating, and Chris figured the ranger didn’t get much back talk while handing out tickets to overzealous fishermen and hunters.

“I know it sounds ridiculous,” she said. “But I didn’t take any medication, and I’m nearly positive I had one glass of wine last night. I didn’t do anything that should have rendered me nearly useless. The only conclusion I can come up with is that I was somehow drugged.”

“Nearly positive?” asked Frisco.

Annoyance flashed across Gianna’s features. Twice the ranger had simply repeated what she’d told him. Chris understood. The man didn’t want to put words in Gianna’s mouth, but he wanted more answers.

“I can’t remember. I know better to drink more than one glass. I’m tiny; alcohol can knock me on my ass with two glasses. It’s ingrained in me to never have more than one drink.”

“It sounds like you were knocked on your ass last night,” Frisco stated. He took a long look at Violet, who stared right back at the ranger. “You see your mom drink?”