“Are you going to take me home?” she asked him just a little afraid.
“Eventually,” he said, as he stood in the door and peeled off his wet poncho. “It’s going to storm again, and it’s too far to hike down the mountain. We’ll wait the storm out here.”
Hearing her fate unequivocally spoken, Robyn stared about the cabin getting acquainted with her surroundings. She was surprised to find the man’s small home was as neat as a pin. There was a large bed in the corner covered with a plain brown comforter, a generous shaggy rug over the shiny hardwood floor in front of the hearth and a handsome leather easy chair with a neat stack of books on the table beside it where he could read by the fire. Where Robyn sat at a vintage, but in perfect condition 50’s dinette, she viewed the rest of the kitche
