Frozen wind snuck through multiple layers of polar fleece to chill him to the bone. Dane cursed, the sound muffled by the garish scarf his kid sister had made him last Christmas. It was a fool's journey to hike through the Maine backwoods in search of the reclusive romance writer - made by the fool who had ignored the advice of the local fishermen predicting this Downeaster that none of the weather reports had confirmed. Yes, Dane Jacob Greenwood, indigent freelance writer, was a fool.

It was so dark now that he could hardly see a foot in front of him. At least he wasn't hiking near any cliffs. He hoped. Just woods. And more woods. Trees everywhere, liberally interspersed with granite rock. He tripped again and went down hard, tearing the wind pants over denims over long underwear, which still wasn't enough protection from the cold. Red stained the snow. Dane scooped a handful of wet slop and pressed it to the cut. He didn't even feel it. That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Keep moving," he yelled at himself. The sound was lost in wind. How could the weather have changed so drastically in just a few hours? This morning it had been a balmy thirty-nine degrees, with a gentle breeze that made him think of flying kites, not building igloos.

Dane had been hanging around Westby for two solid weeks in hopes of cornering the author for an interview. His funds were running out, along with his patience. It took less than ten minutes to walk down one side of Main Street, turn around at the cemetery, and walk back. For days he'd hung out at the general store, attempting to pry information from the locals congregated there, but they were wary of strangers. He'd attended Sunday services at the tiny Baptist Church, and learned that the preacher was a lobster fisherman six days a week, and that the population of Westby was going to increase by one any day now, as the storekeeper's granddaughter was already overdue. If Dane didn't get out of Westby soon, he'd go stark raving mad.

Dane stumbled again, laying face down in the snow for several minutes before he realized he'd better get up again. He staggered, no longer shivering, and no longer certain which direction he should take. He was lost, and he was in trouble. He tried to run. Maybe it would warm him, and if he could just get there, everything would be all right.

The ground slipped out from beneath him. For one moment he felt weightless, suspended in mid air like a small bird between the space of the beat of its wings. Then gravity caught up with the physics of his human body and he started to fall. Down, down, down. Pain lanced through his leg. He screamed, panicked that he was going to die here. Alone. It could be years before anyone found his body. If anyone even missed him at all. And then his head struck against a rock and everything went black."Stupid flatlander," Danni muttered, hurrying to the cliff. She'd been following the unknown hiker for several miles now. She'd almost confronted him when she saw the bloodstain in the snow, but it wasn't that much blood, and she valued her privacy too much. It wasn't her responsibility that the idiot didn't know the first thing about survival, was it? He should not be out here.

The fact that he was could only mean one thing. He wanted her. Or, he wanted "Emily Danielle Rose", the fictitious persona her sisters had created. It was supposed to be harmless. No one would get hurt, no one would find out. Danni had warned them that as soon as their book was published, their privacy would be stolen from them. Emily insisted that they didn't have a choice. They had to come up with the money to pay the taxes or they would lose their home. And then where would they go?

So she went along with them. It was kind of fun, actually. It wasn't like they had that much in common, but their different skills meshed perfectly. Rose, sweet, innocent little Rose, came up with the most wonderful characters. She seemed to really understand people - what they thought, what made them tick, which was odd, since of the three of them, she'd been the most sheltered all her life.

Emily wrote the love scenes. She was the only one who had any experience in that department, and she said romance stories just wouldn't sell without them. Danni blushed whenever Emily made her proofread what she'd written - neither of them would let Rose read those parts - and she hated the way her body responded. Her breasts - those stupid fatty lumps that got in the way when she was hunting or splitting wood, would get tingly and sometimes they ached, but touching them made them feel better. She'd just as soon lop them both off and be done with it, but she was too much of a coward to self-inflict pain. Most embarrassing of all was how wet her unders got. Emily had punched her shoulder and teased her until she threatened to throw the whole scene into the fire, but later, after her sisters were sound asleep, Danni reread them over and over. Maybe guys weren't totally useless, after all.

Well, some guys. This hiker was about as useless as they came. He never should have set out when all the signs pointed to the storm. But then, even her sisters hadn't believed her when she'd warned them to stay inside today. She'd come out, only because being stuck inside with them for hours on end was enough to make a saint weep. Besides, she knew how to take care of herself. She'd been doing that as far back as she could remember.

He was still breathing. That was good. But the lump on his head could be serious. His leg didn't look broke, but was swelling up at the ankle to maybe twice it's regular size. Might be broke - probably just sprained. Badly. Stupid, stupid flatlander. Stupid, big flatlander. She flipped him over her shoulder in the fireman's hold, but her legs nearly buckled under his weight. He fell from her shoulder and landed on his bruised head. Danni flushed. She didn't wish him dead, even if he was stupid.

"You just rest here a spell," she told the unconscious form. "I'll go for help."

It was barely half a mile across the ice, and then half an acre to the cabin. She grabbed the sled from the hook on the back of the privy, and quickly snapped the ganglines onto the bridle. Whistling through her teeth, she waited less than a minute before Sultan and Duke came bounding out of their snug dog houses, eager to run with her. Their eagerness made it difficult to get them into their harnesses, and she spoke sharply to them. Ears down, their enthusiasm dampened, they wilted obediently.

Danni ruffled their ears. "I'm sorry, boys. But we've got us a dumb ox to rescue. Hike! Hike!"

The Malamute-cross mongrels bolted, tails high, tongues already hanging out the side of their mouths in big, doggy grins. Danni caught the sled and hopped on the runners, tucking the drag brake out of the way until she had need of it.

The ice was getting thin. Another day or two and she wouldn't be able to cross it at all, at least, not until the remainder of the ice melted and she could get the boat out of dry dock. Damn! If the weather didn't cooperate, she could get stuck with the stupid flatlander for weeks!

Maybe she should just take him back to town? She dropped the ice hook and stomped it into the ground, commanding the dogs to stay. They didn't really know that word, but the ice hook was pretty dependable. She knelt beside the fallen man and pressed her fingers to his neck. He had a pulse, but it seemed rapid and shallow. His pupils were dilated. He was in no shape for the twenty-mile trip back to town, even if Westby had a doctor - which it didn't. Damn, stupid flatlander!

She snapped off two branches and tied them around his leg with a length of rope she dug from the sled bag. If it was broke, it wouldn't pay to have the bones jarring around, causing further injury. Without an x-ray, it might be impossible to tell, so she'd just treat it like a break, and if it healed in a week, then maybe she was wrong.

Danni considered herself pretty strong for a woman. She split wood, hauled water, and did all the heavier tasks around the cabin, but it took all she had to drag the man a couple of feet to the sled, and she wouldn't have been able to roll him onto it at all without Sultan's help.

The dog gave him a slobbery kiss, which she figured was no more than he deserved. "Okay, Sultan. Let's take this loser home."

The malamutes gave an enthusiastic bark, but as soon as the sled was moving they fell silent. Her runners slicked over the slushy snow. The wind tugged at her braid, whipping the shorter strands free. She threw her head back and laughed, a deep, hearty sound that was wild and free. Soon enough her façade would return - Danni the Stalwart, Danni the Strong. Danni, the "man" of the family. It was her salvation that her sisters had never shown an interest in mushing.

"Hi, Aunt Danni. What's up?" Seven year old Nika tied her own scarf around a lopsided snowman. Emily, Nika's mom, came running out of the cabin, clutching her jacket around her having been in too great a hurry to pull up the zipper.

"Danni? Danni, what are you doing? Were you out on the ice? Are you nuts? You know it's too thin now! You said as much last week! Oh, my - what happened!" Emily's scolding quickly turned to concern when she spied the wounded man on the sled. "What did you do?"

Danni tucked her chin into her scarf, the better to hide a grin. She didn't like people, but she liked men even less. Maybe that was a bit odd for one-third of a romance writing team, but it was no less than the truth. Still, she couldn't very well leave him out there to die. When she'd summoned up her disgust at his errors in judgement that had placed him in danger in the first place, she managed to give her sister a bored look.

"Saved his friggen neck, 's all." She tugged the harnesses from the dogs, hung the ganglines, and stomped wet, sloppy snow from her boots before glancing back at the still body on her sled. "Give me a hand."

Emily hovered over him, brushing thick, black hair off his forehead. "He's so still. Where's he hurt?"

"Get him inside, before you nurse him to death," Danni snapped. She'd found him first! Jealousy lanced through her when Emily touched him, which made no sense at all. She hated men. Emily had sworn off men, too. And mousy little Rose was so afraid that she'd faint if one ever spoke to her. This man was not a threat to them. He was merely an inconvenience. Nothing to get angry about. She clenched her teeth before she snapped at her sister again.

Nika ran ahead to hold the door open. Awkwardly, they put their arms around his middle and half dragged him inside, across the small cabin and deposited him on Danni's bed. By unspoken agreement, Danni had moved into the downstairs bedroom when their mother passed away, while Emily and Rose still occupied the loft bedroom they had all shared as children.

"So, what happened? Where is he hurt?" Emily prodded again, already removing his wet clothing.

"Who's hurt?" Rose called, scurrying down the ladder from the loft.

"Danni found a man," Emily said in a teasing voice.

Danni ignored her, because it was expected. "I'll get some wood to make a splint," she barked. "Ought to keep that ankle immobilized, until we know if it's broke or not."

Rose shuddered. "I'll go make some tea. You and your man both look chilled to the bone."

"Ain't my man!"

Emily's laughter chased her outside.

Emily ripped one end of the bandage down the middle, then tied it around his thigh to secure it in place. It was nasty cut, and probably should have been stitched, but Danni insisted tape would do just fine. Emily hadn't argued, as stitching up cuts wasn't high on her list of fun things to do. Already the bandage was stained red, but it did seem to be slowing.

Danni had sanded two slabs of wood smooth, wrapped them in soft flannel scraps and tied them securely to his leg and foot, careful not to put too much pressure on the swollen ankle. The finished splint could have earned her a merit badge. Her usually gruff manner was surprisingly gentle towards the unconscious man. Maybe it was only the conscious ones she detested? The man groaned in his sleep, but did not awaken.

Danni came back in with two bags full of snow. One she plopped on the ankle, the other she tucked behind his head. Then she checked his pupils again.

"Any change?" Emily asked.

Danni grunted a monosyllable.

"He's lucky you found him."

"Let's just hope the storm quits and the ice holds, so I can get him out of here tomorrow," Danni griped.

"Well, don't hold your breath. You were right about the storm, as usual. And the wind seems to be picking up. He won't be going anywhere soon."

Danni glared at the falling snow, her hands stuffed into her back pockets. "Better bring in more firewood," she mumbled.

"No," Rose interrupted. She offered Danni a steaming mug. "We've enough to last for now. You'd best get changed into dry clothes, if you don't want to get sick."

"I'm never sick." Danni stomped back into her bedroom to retrieve her clothes, ducking behind the door to change. Rose gathered up her wet things and hung them on chairs near the fire, along with the man's clothes. Danni flushed just thinking about him, lying stark naked on her sheets, in her bed. Maybe she'd sleep out in the shed from now on.

Rose dug through his pockets, pulling out a rabbit's foot, his car keys, half a pack of chewing gum, a small notebook, three pens and a ratty leather wallet. "His name is Dane," she said, reading his driver's license. "Dane J. Greenwood. That's a nice name. I wonder what the "J" stands for?"

"Jughead," Danni said.

Rose giggled. "He's two years older than you, Emily. And he's from New York."

A shadow crossed Emily's features and she shuddered. Her voice was just a shade too cheerful when she spoke. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to go through a man's pants?"

"It's probably not polite to strip said man's pants off his body, either, but that didn't stop you," Rose pointed out.

"I was helping him!"

"Well, so am I. What if when he wakes up he can't remember who he is?"

"That only happens in the movies. Okay, Miss Nightingale. Let's get supper on the table. When Mr. Dane Jughead Greenwood does wake up, he's sure to be hungry."

"Why's that?"

"Because he's a man," Emily and Danni said in unison.Dinner was a strained event. Nika jabbered on about her snowman, how boring math was and why should she memorize the multiplication table when her mom could just buy a calculator, and would the stranger tell her about the city when he awoke.

Only then did Emily respond, but she slapped the table with a loud thud and forbid her daughter to go anywhere near that man. Nika was so startled by her mother's uncharacteristic display that she burst into tears.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Rose said quietly. "What harm could it be to visit with him? It's not like we get a lot of visitors - anyone brave enough to cross the lake and wander through these woods is quickly discouraged by Danni's mongrels or her shotgun."

Danni just shrugged. She'd never actually hit anyone. Only once had a persistent land speculator actually managed to mount the porch and knock on her door, in spite of the two dogs growling and snapping at him. Danni had simply locked the door and refused to speak to him.

"You're not to speak to him either, Rose," Emily said, her voice chilling. "In fact, no one must, except Danni."

"Why her?"

"I ain't taking care of him," Danni grunted.

"Think! Just think a minute! Danni, what if he's already seen you? How do you know he was unconscious all the while you were with him? What if he saw your hair, or heard your voice? Besides, you're stronger than we are, and I know you can handle him."

"What are you so afraid of," Rose asked.

"Honey, you're naïve, and that's okay. Danni and I have done all we can so you can stay that way. But the truth is, men are dangerous. Add to that our lie. The three of us do not exist. We created one person - Emily Danielle Rose - and only that person has paid income tax. I don't know what would happen to us if anyone finds out the truth. And what would our readers think?"

"Maybe we should tell them? Lying has a way of biting you in the butt," Rose whispered, rubbing her backside through her overalls.

"Never!" Danni shoved her chair away from the table. "If someone ever discovers our secret, we will lose everything. Don't say it - don't even think it!" She grabbed her soggy jacket and launched outside into the blissfully silent snow.Rose gathered up the dishes, stacking them by the dry sink. Emily took her crying daughter in her arms and settled on their mother's rocking chair. "Sh, sweetie. I’m sorry I spoke so sharply. You're so precious, I couldn't bear it if anything were to happen to you. So why don't you get our book, and I'll read."

"But it's not even bedtime!" Nika's lower lip protruded and two fat tears hovered on her eyelashes.

"That's okay. I'll read two chapters tonight, then."

Nika slid off her lap. She climbed the rung ladder to their loft bedroom, returning shortly in her fuzzy blanket sleeper. The current read-aloud was on the end table, a hair ribbon marking their place. Nika grabbed it and climbed back on board, wiggling her bony butt and jabbing her head against Emily's breast until she was perfectly comfortable.

Emily chuckled, her thoughts drifting back. Not so long ago, it seemed, she had snuggled on her mother's lap in this same rocker. She sat on one knee, Rose on the other, and Danni stretched out on the braided rug with a bored look, while Mama read.

One wall of their cabin was completely covered with make-shift book shelves - bare boards stacked on cement blocks - and the shelves were completely filled with books. It was a collection worthy of the finest libraries, and the only thing of value in their cabin that leaned more towards tacky than rustic.

Mama had loved books. It was her one true passion. Emily could remember eating a lot of peanut butter sandwiches, or digging clams for dinner, or picking blueberries in the cemetery for a pancake breakfast - she was maybe eight years old before she had her first hamburger! But once a month a new leather-bound classic would arrive in their mailbox on shore. And they would stay up late into the night reading chapter after chapter, often reading it twice through before the next book arrived.

It was an eclectic collection, from Sir James Barrie's classic Peter and Wendy, to Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. There were poetry books from Robert Lewis Stevenson and Ogden Nash. There were history books, adventure stories, romances and tragedies. She had protected Nika and Rose from a dangerous and often hostile world. Everything they knew about life they got from those books.

Now she and Nika were transported to Holland a generation or two ago, as a small group of school children sought to discover why the cranes no longer built their nests on the housetops. Rose seemed to be listening as she washed the dishes, but her gaze kept turning to Danni's bedroom door. Emily hoped their youngest sister would mind them well. They had not taken her to the woodshed in months, but Emily would do anything to protect her, even from her own foolishness.

Emily shifted, feeling an unwelcome warmth between her thighs. Mother had spanked her more than either of her sisters, but Emily had been the defiant one. Then at sixteen she had run off to New York. She wanted to see the world outside of Westby, Maine. To get a job, or take some classes. Meet someone handsome. Yes, that had been at the top of her list of wants.

Nika's father had been that. Fair haired, a rakish smile, and a commanding presence in his business suit and tie that made others stop and take notice. He'd been ten years older than Emily, and perhaps a bit of a father figure, as well. He'd claimed her virginity and taught her all she knew about making love. He'd also turned her over his knee and spanked her long and hard for any little infraction. His spankings always ended in bed, with hot, sweaty, passionate sex. It had been an incredible relationship. How ironic that she should learn about love from a man so incapable of feeling it!

But the memory of those spankings often kept her awake at night. She would write spanking scenes into her stories, only to burn them before her sisters could see. Mama's spankings had hurt. They made her feel embarrassed and remorseful. Solomon's spankings had also hurt, but made her desire him all the more. He was a cruel, lying bastard, a dangerous criminal and philanderer, but a part of her still longed to bend over his knee. Emily shook herself, forcing her thoughts back to the story. She'd sworn off men after him. There would be no more erotic spankings for her. At least she had an active imagination. The man in Danni's bed would be good for a year's worth of fantasies, at least!Danni waited until the squirt went to bed before going inside. The wind was picking up, blowing across the frozen pond and slicing through to the bone. The ice should be solid early tomorrow morning, if she could move the stranger then. After that, it was a crap shoot.

Rose had gone to bed as well, but unfortunately, Emily was waiting up for her. Emily was the oldest, but only by ten months. Of all the girls, she'd been the most like mom. Not quite as tall as Danni, and more feminine, curvy in the right places, with slender fingers and graceful hands.

Danni figured she took after her father, although she could barely remember him. She was awkward and clumsy, with shoulders too broad and bony for a woman, and big, callused hands.

Emily sat by the fire brushing her hair - blonde, like everyone else in their family. Emily's hair, though, was delicate, silken strands, while Danni's was a tangled, twisted rope that hung to her hip. Emily had never cut her hair, it just hadn't ever grown quite as long. It was Danni's only attribute that made Emily a tad jealous. For that reason alone Danni would never cut hers.

"Done sulking?"

"I don't sulk," Danni replied automatically.

"Well you sure weren't hiding outside for your health. You must be chilled to the bone."

"Maybe it was for my mental health."

Emily heaved a long-suffering sigh that had Danni struggling to conceal a grin. It was an intricate game they played, annoying the hell out of one another, while presenting a unified front for the two dependents under their care. Danni used to think that their relationship was like a marriage, without any of the fringe benefits.

"What are you going to do about your man?"

"He's NOT my man!"

"Danni. Don't be difficult. You never should have brought him here."

Danni shrugged. "Guess next helpless flatlander I find, I'll just leave behind to die, huh?"

"No, you can't do that, of course. Oh, why did you have to go out today at all? Then we wouldn’t be in this predicament!"

"No, we wouldn't. But he'd be just as dead."

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