“Domesticity doesn’t suit you.”

Another barb hit its mark. She accepted the sting but refused to flinch. “You’re welcome to take over the cooking anytime you want.”

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing.” He exhaled. “Dammit, Jamie, at least have the guts to look at me while we’re talking.”

She stiffened slightly, then carefully rinsed her hands and dried them on a towel. Only then did she turn toward him and raise her head.

The overhead light reflected off his shiny dark hair. He stood with his hands on his hips, his feet spread. Despite the fact that they were in a cabin in the middle of woods that had probably never seen conflict, he was a warrior. Brave, strong, sure.

Something deep inside her resonated with his presence. It had been so long. She should have gotten over him, or at least found an antidote to his lethal charm. She hadn’t. She was just as smitten as she’d been the first day of class. Damn him. Damn them both.

“I’m leaving,” he said.

“It’s a long walk to town.”

“Where’s the battery?”

“I’m not going to tell you,” she said. “I’m not going to let you run off and die somewhere.”

He swore. “What will it take to get rid of you?”

He was determined to make her pay, she thought sadly. “Get well, Zach,” she said. “When you can run to the bottom of the driveway and back up, I’ll know you’re a hundred percent and I’ll be gone. Not before.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to insist she tell him why she was really doing this. Surely he could guess the truth. But instead of saying anything, he moved toward the back door.

“You’ll never find it,” she called after him.

“I’m not going to look for the battery. I’m going to run to the highway and get you the hell out of my life.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Jamie returned to the sink and quickly finished the dishes. She figured Zach would make it maybe a quarter of a mile before collapsing. She wanted to go after him and make sure he was okay, but she didn’t. When the kitchen was clean, she put on her own running shoes and headed out.

The morning air was crisp. On the radio last night, they’d mentioned a late cold front could be moving in at the beginning of next week, but for now it was a perfect mountain spring day.

Overhead the sun rose in a brilliant blue sky. Every morning more and more trees exploded with leaves. Delicate flowers poked their heads out of the soggy ground. The air was heady enough to leave her giddy.

She started out slowly, walking for the first couple of minutes, then breaking into a slow jog, heading away from the driveway so she wouldn’t run into Zach. The sound of her steps and her breathing was her only accompaniment on her run. When she ran at home, she usually used a radio and headphones, but up here she savored the silence.

She’d been at the cabin over two weeks and she could see why Zach kept it. There was something cleansing and healing about the location. Maybe it was ancient sacred ground. Or a secret spot for lovers.

She quickly pushed away that last thought. Under present circumstances, being Zach’s lover was impossible. He wasn’t going to ask, and she wasn’t going to offer. Even if he did ask-

She broke into a run and headed up an incline between a row of trees. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he asked. She liked to think she would be strong and say no, but it was unlikely.

Her breathing deepened as she broke out into a sweat. Her heart picked up its rhythm. She could feel the energy filling her. Up here, among the trees and the clear sky, all things were possible. If she could feel one with nature, surely she could find a way to be one with herself. She could remember what it felt to be human, and to be a woman.

Easier said than done, she thought. Although she had all the working parts, she wasn’t sure what to do with them. She couldn’t imagine herself hosting teas for the Junior League. She didn’t even know what the Junior League was or why it existed in the first place. But there had to be some kind of middle ground between a cliched female existence and what she’d become.

Another half hour of running didn’t bring her closer to an answer. She turned around and headed back to the house, slowing to a jog. When she spotted a tree with a thick branch about a foot above her head, she stopped and jumped up to grab it.

When her grip was secure, she started doing pull-ups. She worked slowly, thoughtfully, exercising her muscles, keeping them strong.

Her body was still as she slowly raised and lowered herself, her feet together, her legs straight. “Not the most feminine exercise,” Jamie said as perspiration dampened her back and face. But she couldn’t imagine not being strong. Strength was a part of her now. Her strength made her feel safe.

“Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty.” She released the tree branch and jumped to the ground. Once there, she shook out her arms and continued walking toward the cabin.

Was she hiding behind her need to be strong? Did she use that part of herself to keep people away, emotionally, as well as physically?

She didn’t want to think about that. As she tried to ignore the thought, she reminded herself she’d quit the agency so she would have time to answer all those questions. She wasn’t here just to help Zach, but also to explore and discover. To find balance. She was going to have to stare down the scary questions and figure out the answers.

When she got back to the cabin, Zach wasn’t there. She wondered how far he’d gone and if he’d hurt himself. She checked the clock. If he wasn’t back in an hour, she was going after him.

Forty-eight minutes later, he came into view. He was covered in sweat and barely able to walk. She moved out to the porch and waited for him to approach. Although her nerves were stretched tight, she struck a casual pose and tried to act unconcerned.

When he reached the three stairs leading up to the house, he raised his head and looked her straight in the eye. “I made it to the road,” he said. “It’s time for you to go.”

She’d expected a lot of lines, but not that one. Without meaning to, she burst out laughing.

Zach surprised her by turning his lips up in a grudging smile. “I didn’t think you’d buy it.”

She was too stunned by the way the smile had affected her to bother responding to his words. The tingling started at her toes and worked its way up. Her breathing increased, as it had while she’d been running, but this time it wasn’t from physical exertion. Looked as though he still got to her. A dangerous concept.

He sank down on the steps. “I barely made it past the bend.” He pointed to the curve in the driveway. “Then I puked my guts out and just about collapsed. I had to rest all this time just to make it back.”

So he still needed her. The thought should have pleased her, but it didn’t. She knew the truth. He might not make it down to the highway today, or tomorrow, but he would keep trying. And one day he would make it. Then it would be time for her to go.

Zach stepped into the cabin. He preferred spending time outdoors, but an unexpected cold front had arrived and the snow had driven him inside.

He was restless. A good sign. It meant he was healing. He’d been running a little every day for nearly a week. His strength was returning, although it would be another six or eight weeks before he was back to a hundred percent.

As he walked into the kitchen, he saw Jamie had made a fresh pot of coffee. He glanced toward the bedrooms. Her door was closed. They both tried to sleep in the afternoon because neither of them slept at night. As she’d said, insomnia was a hazard of the job.

He poured himself some coffee, then headed for the bathroom. He needed a hot shower to get the chill out of his bones. Before he opened the door, he moved close to Jamie’s room. He imagined her sleeping there and hated himself for the pleasure the image brought. He didn’t want to be connected to her. He couldn’t allow himself to feel anything. The price was too high.

The only way to endure the horrors of the world was to let go of them. Early in his career, he’d wrestled with injustice and hatred. He’d seen the suffering and not known how to ease it. Gradually he’d learned not to feel any of it. Once he let the feelings disappear, he could do his job. After all these years, it was all he knew.

If he allowed himself one strong emotion, if he cracked the door a little, everything would rush out and overwhelm him. He had a bad feeling Jamie was hoping for a miracle, but she wasn’t going to get one from him.

She wanted to know if he was looking for a way out. He shook his head. He couldn’t leave. This was all he knew.

Still carrying his coffee, he pushed open the bathroom door. Jamie wasn’t in her bedroom sleeping. She was in the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel.

He stopped suddenly. Hot coffee sloshed over his hand, but he didn’t feel the burning. He stared at her, realized she was practically naked and started to back up.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

The bathroom was small, with a single sink in a narrow vanity. The metal-mirrored medicine chest was about twenty-five years old. The only indulgence was the claw-footed tub that ran the length of the room. When he’d first bought the cabin, he’d put in a shower head over the tub.

“It’s all right,” she said, and smiled up at him. “I’m just finishing up.”

The room was steamy, the mirror fogged. He didn’t notice any of that. Instead, he stared at the woman in front of him.

She’d piled her long hair on top of her head. A few strands escaped and clung to her damp shoulders. Dark smudges under her eyes told him of her battles with restlessness and changed her hazel eyes to green.

Her face was a perfect oval, with high cheekbones and a wide mouth. She never wore makeup and rarely needed it. Now her skin was flushed and luminous. His gaze moved down her body. He could see the lean lines of her muscles. She was strong but not bulky. She amazed him.