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couldn’t.”
    Sure she could. And if he didn’t want her hightailing it back to town, he’d better talk faster, because the cabin was in sight. “If you’re serious about hiding out, it sounds as if your options are rather limited.”
    “I am serious.”
    “Look, if you want to be alone, I’ll leave you alone. I’m not the best company right now anyway.”
    “Really? Why’s that?”
    And she thought the townspeople were nosy. Hello,Pot. Meet Kettle. Shit, if she was going to be staying at the cabin, she’d figure it out eventually. His head ached in earnest now—it had gone from the normal, constant, after-a-concussion dull ache to an almost blinding pain. It was nothing unusual. Ever since his accident, he’d had bouts of nightmare headaches, the frequency of which were decreasing. Unfortunately, the headache fairies had chosen now to make an appearance. “I was in an accident recently and had a head injury. I’m still not quite myself.” He held his breath, waiting to hear about how the Grand Pooh-Bah of Harmony hit a tree while skiing, but she said nothing. By now, he knew her well enough to know that if she’d heard about the accident, she’d tell him all about it. She wasn’t one to hold back.
    “Wow, I’m sorry to hear that. But after all I’ve dumped on you, and considering that you’ve seen me at my worst, you’re not telling me very much here. What happened?”
    “They tell me I skied into a tree. I don’t have any memory of the accident—actually, I can’t remember anything that happened that day. I just remember waking up in the hospital a few days later with a headache like you read about. I’d been in a medically induced coma, and they had to operate to reduce the pressure on my brain.”
    One of her dark brows rose. “And that turned you into someone not quite yourself?”
    He’d turned into someone completely different, or at least he felt as if he had. “I’ve changed. I can’t do some of the things I used to do. It’s been about a month, and supposedly my brain is still healing. There’s no way to know if the difficulties I’ve encountered are permanent.”
    She blew out a visible breath. The temperature had plummeted with the sun. “It sounds as if you’re lucky to be alive.”
    “That’s true enough.”
    “The accident obviously hasn’t affected your speech.”
    “Actually, it has a little bit. Sometimes I can’t remember the exact word I’m thinking of. It’s as if it’s right there, but I can’t reach it. I don’t think it’s noticeable to anyone but me.”
    “What else?”
    “There’s no such thing as personal boundaries with you, is there?”
    She stopped, turned toward him, and shot him a smile. “I’m a psychotherapist. I’m trained to be nosy.”
    “Right. So this is purely professional interest.”
    “Would it make you feel better if I said yes?”
    “I don’t know if anything would make me feel better right now. Well, maybe those wicked strong painkillers they gave me at the hospital. That is, if you think completely out of it equals better.” He didn’t, but if his headache didn’t subside, he might have to rethink his position.
    “Oh.” She gave him the same clinical nod he’d seen doctors use before giving him a diagnosis. “You’re grieving the loss of whatever it is you may have lost. That’s completely normal.”
    “Thanks, I think.”
    She started up the slope again. “I’m just trying to get all the information I need to decide whether or not I’m crazy to even consider staying at a cabin with a perfect stranger. You know a heck of a lot more about me than I know about you.”
    “True. Okay, here’s the deal. I can’t make sense of anything having to do with numbers. I couldn’t dial a phone if you gave me the phone number. I can’t add. I can’t count money. I can’t even tell time. I used to be a mathwhiz, and now I look at a receipt for groceries and get confused.”
    “Can you still