The scowl faded and his eyes twinkled. "For your information, it wasn't a woman screaming. It was a catamount."
"A catamount?" She echoed.
"A Puma, Panther, Mountain Lion - whatever you Californians call them. They hunt at night. It's a good thing there's so much game around here - and you had that flashlight. You don't have to lock all your doors and windows, but it would be a good idea to stay in the house at night."
She let out her breath in a sigh of relief. Little did he know what she had suspected - or how much his use of the word catamount had revealed. If there had been a shred of doubt in her mind about who had sent him, it would have been erased with that term for a mountain lion. Only once in her life had she heard that word. Once, long ago, her father had entertained a friend from the mountains - an old army buddy from northern Arizona. That man had talked about catamounts - and a grandson who would have been about her age. Although she had never seen Captain Turner again, letters to her father with his return address on them assured her that they still kept in touch. Had the Captain's daughter married a Keaton?
So that was where her father had found someone so familiar with the wilderness on such short notice. Now the tables were turned. She could pretend she didn't know who he was for a while. She smiled warmly up at him.
"I guess it was rather silly of me to step outside under either circumstance, wasn't it? I'm afraid I don't know as much about the wilderness as you Arkies."
His eyes narrowed. "Arkansawyers, or Arkansans," he corrected gruffly.
She grinned. "Whatever."
He eyed her clothes critically. "Why don't you go change, and I'll drive you around to look at some of God's country."
She glanced down at her wrinkled nightclothes and felt a scarlet wave surge up her neck. This was the second time she had absently stood before him disheveled and immodest. What must he think of her?
"I...I need to shower first."
His eyes mocked her. "Alright. You shower and change and I'll fix you something to eat. Then we'll go."
She hesitated. The laundry was one place she hadn't been yet and her wardrobe had dwindled down to a few clean items - none of them appropriate for a ride around the countryside with a man she hardly knew. She gnawed at her lower lip. "Do you mind if I wear shorts?"
He was turning toward the kitchen as she spoke and he glanced back at her with an amused expression. He surveyed her bare legs with twinkling eyes, arching a brow as he spoke. "Please do."