This was all a bad dream. It was probably three a.m. this morning, and she was deep asleep in her home in Port Angeles. Today hadn’t happened yet. Her subconscious had served up Xavier because they had massive unfinished business, and George was a concern in sleep because she was worried about him weathering the predicted storm. Perhaps she’d eaten something to trigger the stomach upset that led to this nightmare.

Scrooge’s words in A Christmas Carol came to mind: “You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There’s more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!”

Like Scrooge, she needed to look to her other senses for the truth in the moment. Xavier’s arms that held her tight to his chest. The scent of damp woods, the feel of cold rain filtering through the branches. The tapping of raindrops on evergreens increasing in tempo as the storm gathered and settled in.

This was her park. Her forest. Her lodge. She wasn’t dreaming, and no matter how much she wished to, she wouldn’t wake from this living nightmare.

The only way out of this situation was to face it head-on. She lifted her head and tried to see Xavier, but could only make out his outline in the dark woods. Full darkness had settled like a cold, wet blanket. “Was that…one of your men?”

“No.” His voice was gruff. “I was going to ask if it was George.”

She shook her head, then realized he probably couldn’t see the motion. She swallowed and found her voice again. “No. George is smaller, wiry.” From her limited glimpse, the dead man had been large, with thick shoulders. Classic mountain man physique.

“I need to go back,” he said. “Check on the body. Enter the yurt. But first, I need to get you somewhere safe.”

The idea of being in these woods without Xavier scared the hell out of her. “Nowhere is safe.”

“True. But checking the body will be dangerous. I’ll be exposed.”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

He paused, then said, “Fine. One of us will have the gun, the other will examine the body. See if he’s alive. We should take pictures too. Which job do you want?”

Now was not the time to be squeamish. Her stomach was first-trimester sensitive, but she’d do her best to keep her lunch down. Xavier was more skilled with weapons, and she knew how to look for a pulse. “I’ll check the body.”

She squared her shoulders and stepped back from Xavier’s embrace. The wind picked up and a chill ran through her body, but she figured the blast of cold had more to do with leaving his warmth than from the wind. It was damn cold out here, and it would only get worse as the storm strengthened.