Against the Wild Read Online Free PDF Page A

something about a raven and a cemetery.
    Shaking her head at the oddity, she climbed down from the bed. She didn’t dream often, but as she hurriedly dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved light blue T-shirt, it remained strangely clear in her head.
    A glance at the digital clock on the bedside table said it was 8:00 PM . Hurrying down the stairs, she spotted Dylan as she reached the bottom, his amazing blue eyes swinging in her direction as if he had some secret radar where she was concerned. Her stomach contracted at the smile on his handsome face.
    â€œFeeling better?” he asked, walking toward her.
    â€œI didn’t mean to sleep so long. I hope you didn’t wait to eat supper.”
    â€œThis time of year we usually eat a little later in the evening. I’ll let Winnie know you’re here and probably starving.”
    She was hungry, she realized. Ravenous, in fact.
    â€œWell, you’re looking rested,” Mrs. Henry said, smiling as Lane walked toward her.
    â€œI hope I didn’t keep everyone waiting.”
    â€œNot at all. We all work late this time of year.”
    â€œIn the winter we’ve only got a little over seven hours of daylight,” Dylan explained. “This time of year, it doesn’t even start getting dark until after ten. Shall I show you the house while Winnie gets supper on the table?”
    She glanced toward the older woman. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
    â€œHeavens, no. You just go along with Dylan, let him give you a tour.”
    â€œMaybe I should get my notepad.”
    â€œNot tonight,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Tomorrow, you can take your time, look the place over top to bottom.”
    Lane smiled, liking the idea. “All right.”
    As Dylan started leading her away, she got a whiff of his cologne, something woodsy that made her think of a forest and clean sheets. Her heart was beating a little too fast, she realized and eased her hand away.
    She walked beside him up one of the staircases at each end of the great hall. Then he turned and they crossed an open balcony above the room and made their way to the guest wing.
    â€œThere’s an extra room up here that won’t work as a bedroom. I was thinking maybe a study for the guests.”
    She glanced at the construction in progress around her. “Or maybe a library.”
    â€œThat might be a good idea. Or a combination of the two.”
    They continued on into the upstairs portion of the guest wing, where most of the remodeling was being done. The crew had been hard at work, tearing out walls in some areas, rebuilding them in others.
    â€œThe rooms were good-sized to begin with,” Dylan said, “but some of them didn’t have a bathroom originally so we’re adding those, and all the heating and plumbing is being redone. We need a couple of suites, and I want some of the bedrooms to have adjoining doors for families who bring their kids.”
    She started to ask him about his daughter, but decided to wait, see if Emily came down to supper.
    The lodge was big and it was old and it was beautiful. Everything about the place charmed her: the hand-hewn logs perfectly notched together, the three-foot irons in the huge rock fireplace, the wide-planked floors.
    â€œYou’ve taken on an amazingly expensive project,” she said as they walked along.
    â€œDon’t I know it. My dad was kind of an adventurer. He moved our family here from Texas when we were just kids. But he retained his interest in the family ranch. Dad passed away a few years back, then his brother, Jim. When Ty’s dad, my uncle Seth, the last of the brothers, died, we sold the ranch—at least most of it—and the proceeds were split among the heirs. Along with the money I’ve saved over the years, it’s more than enough to remodel the lodge and do pretty much anything I want.”
    â€œLucky you,” she teased.
    Dylan glanced away.