Tying the Knot by Susan May Warren Page A

in the breeze. “What is this place called?”
    “Wilderness Challenge. Would you like a tour?”
    She glanced at him, and a tiny smile poked through the wall. “Yes.”
    His heart did a tiny jig. “It’s a small camp. Only twenty kids, but we have a great program planned, and I hope it’s really going to change lives.” He motioned to a trail between two trees and she moved toward it. “We sleep in army tents, but someday maybe we’ll build cabins.”
    “Was this always a camp?”
    “Fishing lodge. I rented it cheap about six months ago and spent the winter weekends remodeling the inside.”
    She went silent. He saw her swallow—hard. “You’re the camp director.”
    He shoved his hands into his pockets, fighting every impulse to drop to his knees and tell her that he hadn’t meant to deceive her by omission last night. That he’d had every intention of confessing, but it had been forgotten between the attack of her mountain-sized dog and Anne’s resounding slap. Most importantly, he wanted to assure her that he’d keep her safe.
    Instead, he gave her his most apologetic smile and shrugged.
    Instant fury clouded her eyes and she shook. “Did you plan this? Are you stalking me?”
    He blew out a breath, feeling punched. “Of course not. I need help, and God provided you.”
    His confession didn’t have the calming effect he’d hoped. Her face paled; she blinked. Then, in a pinched voice, “He provided me?”
    “Without you, my camp loses its funds.” He hated the desperation in his voice. “I need a full-time nurse on staff in order to get the church to back me.” He turned away, embarrassed by his raw need and the fear that it was scribbled all over his face. “And when you . . . uh . . . sputtered to a halt right in front of my eyes, I had to believe it was divine intervention.”
    “Divine intervention?” Her tone made him cringe. “I think it’s down-to-earth deception! Coercion. Try slave labor . ” She shook her head and shot past him. “This has to be some sort of sick joke—”
    “No joke. I talked to Doc. He okayed it.”
    Anne whirled, white with fury. “Okayed it? Sure. Fine.” She shrugged, as if suddenly confused. “Why didn’t you just knock me over the head last night and drag me up here by my hair? I mean, that’s what a normal, red-blooded caveman would do.” She put a hand to her forehead while Noah fought to close his open mouth.
    “I can’t believe it,” she mumbled, as if he weren’t standing there. “I’ve escaped the world of gangbangers and death by drive-bys into a world of Neanderthal chauvinists who’ve never heard of the—” she looked at him now and glared—“Emancipation Proclamation!”
    “Now, c’mon, Anne.” Noah had to admit that from her vantage point it did look very . . . ugly. “We didn’t mean to—”
    “Wait!” She stared at him with a look of pure horror. “You expected me to stay here with . . . with . . . you?”
    He took a deep breath, kept his voice steady. “That’s the general ‘camp nurse’ idea. Being on site in case the kids need you.”
    “Kids?” She raised her hands, palms up, as if waiting for him to produce them.
    “They’ll be here in a couple of weeks.” He took a step toward her, a desperate feeling knotting in his gut. “Look, I didn’t commit a felony. I mean, you are working for the doc, right?”
    “That doesn’t mean I can be loaned out like a lawn mower.” She looked pointedly at the lodge. “I don’t see any other staff.”
    “They arrive on Saturday.”
    She regarded him with a stare that could freeze a slug. “Saturday? So until then it’s you and me, happy campers ten miles from the nearest telephone?” She clenched her teeth, then defied physics and spoke through them. “I. Don’t. Think. So.”
    That crouching tiger–cat analogy was right on the money. He expected to see claws any second. “Listen—” he smiled ruefully—“I’m not Bigfoot. I