“Me too.” His dark gaze was cataloguing her features. “It’s been a tough few days. I’ve been worried about you.”

Was that all there was between them? His constant concern for her welfare. He knew she cared about him. He must know she loved him.

Her stomach churned with uncertainty. Love was horrible. She hated it.

She pushed out of the door and felt his gaze following her. He was slower to get out of the SUV and she used the time to plug in the block heater.

He had his hand on his weapon as they entered the cabin, but he didn’t do as complete a sweep as last time. Checked each room in a way that looked more like habit than genuine concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, tilting his head to one side, obviously sensing her upset.

She forced a laugh. He thought she was a terrible liar, but evasion was more her style. “I think my body is crashing after the events of the last few days and I am stiff and achy as an old crone.”

“You are nothing like an old crone.”

She grinned and hoped her lip didn’t wobble tremulously and her eyes didn’t betray her crippling insecurity.

She dumped her bag on the dining table. They’d left all the things from her apartment in the back of Eban’s vehicle. They’d be fine for one night. Her gaze caught on the white terry robes hanging on pegs by the back door.

Eban started building a fire to supplement the heating.

She needed some alone time. She needed a moment to gather her emotions and think. Time to prepare for the fact even if they did attempt to make a relationship work—if it was worth giving it a shot—he would still be leaving her soon.

“I’m going to have a quick soak before bed.”

“Do you want me to join you?” He looked at her with growing alarm. He knew he’d done something wrong, but he didn’t seem to have a clue what it was.

She forced a smile. They were both exhausted. “If you want.” She grabbed a robe and slippers. “I’m not going to bother with a suit and I’ll be in and out in fifteen minutes, so get the fire going for me, will you.”

He nodded and then jumped as his cell rang. “Let me answer that and I’ll fetch you something to drink. Darby?” he said suddenly, urgently.

“Yes?”

“You know I really,” he stumbled over his words, “c-care about you, right?”

“I care about you too.” She gave him an overly bright smile and slipped outside. She paused, closing her eyes and trying to blink back the tears. “I care about you” usually came before a “but.” I care about you, “but” this isn’t working for me. I care about you, “but” I don’t love you. I care about you, “but” we live four thousand miles apart.

All potentially valid points that she didn’t want to think about.