Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic) by Summer Newman Page B

him.”
    “Oh?”
    “He is a handsome devil, isn’t he?”
    “He’s all right, I guess,” Jenny begrudgingly conceded, “but not the kind of man I find attractive.”
    “Oh, he’s a looker, Jenny,” Henry insisted. “Reminds me of myself when I was young.”
    Jenny smiled with good-natured amusement.
    “The ladies in town are still trying to figure him out. When he first came, a lot of them did everything in their power to meet him. There was a running joke about women spontaneously meeting him at the hardware store and confessing their hidden passion for plumbing supplies.” He laughed. “It was quite a circus.”
    “Did he show any interest?” Jenny inquired casually.
    “He was friendly, that’s all.”
    “Friendly?” Jenny thought, struck by the word.
    Devon had not been friendly to her, nor could she imagine him ever being the least bit personable, but for some unknown reason she still felt pleased that Devon was not particularly struck by anyone else. Why this pleased her, she would not, or could not, say. Devon had been openly hostile toward her. That puzzled her. With other men Jenny always had a way. She never led them on or used them, but with a single smile she always won them over. Devon was different. He was a moody, insufferable beast. He treated her with complete disdain and total disinterest. So why, she wondered, was she wasting time thinking about him?
    No doubt about it, Devon was a challenge. A mystery. Why did he act the way he did? Was Henry right, and did something from his past haunt him? And was unraveling the secret of this man the only thing that interested her? She thought of his handsome face, his powerful, manly presence, his tough, skilled hands…Never before in her life had she felt so conscious of a man. He was her total opposite and a world away from what she envisioned as her “dream man,” yet he forced his way into her consciousness and would not leave. But he would leave! She would make him leave! This man, this Devon North, was a passing fancy who had overstayed his welcome. Jenny banished him from her thoughts and, when he still stubbornly refused to depart, she assured herself that he would be gone and forgotten after a good night’s sleep.
    “Thinking of something pleasant?” Jenny heard Henry say.
    Jenny snapped out of her daydreams. “Excuse me, Henry, I was drifting.”
    “I just said that you must have been thinking about something pleasant because you had such a nice smile on your face.”
    “I’m just tired,” Jenny said, excusing herself. “I think I’ll turn in for the night.”
    “By all means, go ahead. You’ve had a busy day.”
    “Yes,” Jenny said with a sigh. “A very busy day.”
    She bid Henry good night and walked back to her room. The door creaked when she opened it, but the abode felt like a cave, a place that she could crawl into as if she was an animal, a place she could vanish. She disrobed and crawled under the sheets. The bed felt like a soft cloud. With everything that happened to her in the last few weeks Jenny was emotionally drained. She wanted to sleep like Rip Van Winkle.
    When her head hit the pillow, she drifted off immediately.
    Her sleep was not restful, though. She dreamed of a big coyote at the edge of a farm, pacing steadily and relentlessly, refusing to stop until he had brought down the lone lamb. Jenny knew even in her dreams that Ivan would not stop until his prey was dead. He would not stop, would not. Sooner or later, Ivan Wiley would find her and try to wreak his vengeance. She had no idea when that would happen, but she knew the day was coming. Jenny had no idea of what was yet to come, because if she did, she would not have been able to sleep.

Chapter 4
     
    When Jenny awoke to glorious sunshine, her first thoughts were of Devon North. That annoyed her. She didn’t like the man, had no affection for him whatsoever, and wished he would leave her alone. But she also visualized him changing her tire in