Page 83 of I Do, I Do, I Do
As awareness slowly returned to Bear’s gaze, he lifted his head and looked around. “My God,” he breathed, staring down at her. “We wrecked my cabin!” Awe widened his eyes. “Good Lord, woman. You are the most magnificent creature who ever lived! I adore you. I worship the ground you walk on.”
Laughing, Clara pushed the hair out of her eyes and struggled to sit up. “Give me one of your shirts, will you? We need to see what happened and make sure none of the lamps started a fire.”
“I can see that I’m going to have to build us a house set in concrete! Never in my life have I had an experience that even came close to this! My house is wrecked, I’m covered with bruises. I don’t think I could survive making love to you more than once a day.” Grinning, he pulled himself off the floor and reached for the clothing swaying on the row of hooks. He tossed her a shirt and pulled on a pair of trousers. Then he did a double take and bent over her. “Is that a blue ribbon?”
“I believe it is,” she said, trying to sound modest. When she extended her hand, he pulled her up, and she put on his shirt.
Laughing, he shook his head and then kissed her soundly. “Honey girl, if ever I saw a bottom that deserved a blue ribbon, yours is it.”
“You were pretty spectacular yourself,” Clara said, fluttering her eyelashes and giving him an admiring look. When he stepped toward her with that look in his eye, she placed a hand on his big muscled chest. “First, we better check out the damage.”
He gave her a lingering kiss, then dug around in the corner of the bedroom until he found his rubber-soled boots that would grip the floor and help keep him from sliding down the sharp incline.
They made their way to the bedroom doorway and peered out. All the furniture was now a pile of broken rubble in the south corner. Fortunately, the fireplace was on the south wall, and the drop had not spilled out any flaming logs. But there was a small fire growing near the bedroom door.
While Bear beat out the flames with the bedroom rug, Clara crept toward the kitchen. The stove was wedged in the doorway. She called the news to Bear.
“Don’t worry. It isn’t hot. I’d planned a cold supper, a fried chicken picnic. Can we get to the food?”
“I’ve climbed Chilkoot Pass. I guess I can climb over a stove.”
The kitchen was a god-awful mess of broken crockery, shattered jars, spilled flour and sugar. The smell of pickle brine filled her nostrils. But she came back to the living room carrying their picnic basket.
Bear was beating out another small fire at the edge of the rubble. Clara watched him, remembering that her clothes were under the pile of debris. Well, she’d worry about that problem when it was time to get dressed.
“The roof’s cracked, and the chinking fell out of the walls. It’s going to get cold in here. I think we have time enough to eat and then wreck the other end of the house before we start to freeze.”
Returning his grin, Clara pulled herself up into the bedroom. She pushed the broken bed aside and arranged the mattress to curve up the interior wall. They could sit on one half and rest their backs against the half leaning on the wall.
Once she’d created a place for them, she took stock of herself. She’d rolled his shirtsleeves up to her wrists, and the shirttail fell past her knees. She was mostly covered, but already she felt a flow of icy wind streaming through the house. What she wanted most right now was a hairbrush. Wild tangled hair curled down her back and frizzed around her face. But there wasn’t a hope of finding her hairpins in the mess of debris.
“Why are you laughing?” Bear asked, pulling himself through the bedroom door. He dropped down on the mattress beside her and opened the picnic basket.
“I’m imagining Zoe’s and Juliette’s expression when I come home disheveled and wearing a set of your clothes.” She would never hear the end of it. “Are you going to tell people how your cabin got wrecked?”
He handed her a chicken breast and a boiled egg. “If I did, I’ve have to fight every man in the Yukon because every one of them would beat a path to your door,” he said, laughing.
She arched an eyebrow. “Are you blaming me for destroying your house?”
“Hell, no,” he said, still laughing. “I’m giving you the credit.” He bit into a chicken leg. “Clara girl, I can build another cabin. I’ll build us a hundred of them, and if you wreck them all, I’ll be a happy man.”
And now came the moment that Zoe and Juliette had spoken of, a moment of pain so intense that Clara leaned forward and gasped, placing a hand on her side.
Bear blithely and happily assumed they had made a commitment tonight. This was the second time he had referred to building a house for them. Where they would live together happily ever after.
He stared at her with alarm. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said, blinking at sudden tears. “Oh, Bear. You’ve been open and honest with me, but I…” She halted. “Do you smell smoke?”
“Smoke?” Lowering the chicken leg, he raised his head and sniffed. “I’m sure I put out the fires.”
“It’s getting stronger.”
“You’re right. I smell it, too.”
He’d just reached for a napkin when the far corner of the bedroom burst into flames. For a stunned moment, neither of them moved. They stared at the fire in shock.
“This isn’t possible,” Bear said, frowning. “There were no lamps in that corner.”
