“That’s a good sign,” he stated.

She knew that but held her tongue. He was kind. She studied him as he ministered to her frozen feet, seeking a distraction from the pain in her head. Faded round scars dotted the left side of his neck and trailed up the side of his cheek to vanish under his black stocking hat. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, which slightly hid the scars. A layperson might not notice them, but she was trained to notice all scars. To her professional eye, they were cigarette burns, and she wondered who’d tortured him. So far Chris was a man of few words, but he’d known the right ones to use. He’d calmed Violet and instructed her to get in the front seat with the dog and to hold the dog close under her jacket.

“Oro has body heat to spare,” he’d told her. Now the dog and the girl watched closely as Chris rubbed feeling back into Gianna’s feet. He’d tried unsuccessfully to start the SUV several times. He’d finally glanced under the hood and shook his head. “I’m no mechanic. I can’t even begin to guess what’s wrong.”

“It was fine a few days ago,” Gianna commented as feeling rushed back to her feet. “We drove up here from Portland and haven’t driven it since then. Once it started to snow real hard, I decided to stay put.”

“Understandable. We’ll go back to my place. I know it’s supposed to warm up tonight . . . hopefully enough to melt that layer of ice. I don’t want to venture out to the highway. The roads are like skating rinks and I won’t risk putting us in a ditch, but tomorrow the conditions should be better. We can head down to the ranger station and let them know what happened here.” He glanced up at the low dark clouds. “Usually they’d spot the smoke and come investigate, but I suspect since the fire happened at night that they didn’t see it and the clouds are blocking the residual smoke. We can leave a note on your dashboard with my name and address in case someone comes looking. Do you have boots in the cabin?” he asked.

“They should be just inside the door.” She took in the blackened cabin structure, feeling shock roll through her system again.

How did we survive?

If Violet hadn’t woken up . . .

Tears threatened and she swallowed hard as bile churned in her stomach.

“I don’t think we should go in,” she said. “It can’t be safe. The roof looks ready to collapse.”

“We shouldn’t,” Chris said. “I’ll take a quick look.”

“I’m sorry.” Violet’s voice cracked and her eyes filled. “I put on my own boots and coat, but I didn’t grab yours last night. I couldn’t think straight.”

Gianna’s heart hurt for her terrified daughter, and she reached out a hand to touch her cheek. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I was so scared,” Violet whispered. “You wouldn’t wake up.”

“How did it start?” asked Chris. He focused on her feet, but Gianna knew he was very interested in the response. She looked to Violet.

“I don’t know.” Violet sucked in a breath and tightened her hold on the dog. “The smoke in the loft woke me up. It was so thick, I could barely see. I called out for you and felt around, but you weren’t in your bed.”

Gianna nodded. The loft held two double beds. No privacy, but she’d welcomed the small space, hoping it would offer a chance to reconnect with her teen daughter, who’d been distant for the last six months. Violet had been horrified to learn she had to share a room with her mother.

“I crawled down the ladder and the kitchen area was in flames. You were crashed out on the couch and wouldn’t wake up.”

Gianna couldn’t remember falling asleep on the couch. She thought hard, trying to recall what they’d done that evening, but even dinner was sketchy in her mind. “What’d we have for dinner?”

Violet’s brows narrowed. “Meatloaf.”

Gianna nodded, remembering she’d brought the homemade meatloaf with them, knowing it’d make an easy meal at the cabin. Wine. She’d had wine after the meatloaf. How much did I drink?

That could explain her headache. Shame and horror rattled her as she realized she might have drunk too much to respond in last night’s emergency. One glass was sufficient to relax her; two made her extremely drowsy. Did I drink more than that?

She couldn’t remember.

I could have killed us both.

This isn’t right.

She looked away from Violet and met Chris’s gaze. His calm hazel eyes didn’t judge her, but she knew he had to be wondering if alcohol had been involved. She didn’t need any extra judgment; she was piling on the guilt just fine.

“It’s over. No one died,” he said softly. He held her gaze another long second and then looked at Violet. “You were a real hero. It’s amazing that you got your mom out of there.”

“I was terrified,” Violet muttered. She buried her nose in the furry top of the dog’s head, and Gianna mentally thanked Chris for making her daughter sit with the dog. Pets healed. Had that been his intent?

He met her gaze again and gave a subtle shrug of one shoulder at her questioning stare.

“Do you have kids?” Gianna blurted.

Surprise and then pride lit his eyes. “My son, Brian, is ten. Oro is his dog.”

Gianna noticed the lack of wedding ring. Divorced. “Is he at your cabin?”

“He’s at Disneyland with his grandparents.” Chris stood and brushed the snow off his shins. “I’m going to get your boots. We’ve got more than a mile to walk, and you’re not going to make it unless we get your feet covered.”