by Raine Thomas
He grinned. “Why, thank you. I like the sound of that.”
As he took the champagne flutes and moved to sit back down with them, he missed the attendant catching the eye of the businesswoman in 4B, bringing a hand to her chest and mouthing, “Oh, my!” The businesswoman fluttered her lashes dramatically and fanned herself in response.
“See anything interesting out there?” Gabriel asked Amber as he sat beside her.
She was staring out the window, watching everything with rapt attention. The sun had risen above the airport now, bathing everything in a soft orange-yellow glow. Sunlight danced on her hair, which was pulled back only at the temples and spilled down her back in soft curls, the frizz tamed by whatever styling products Mrs. B had forced upon her. He found himself resisting the impulse to run his fingers through it.
“I’m glad we didn’t pack anything terribly fragile,” she observed dryly. “They sure don’t seem to treat the luggage with much delicacy.”
When she turned and saw him holding the orange juice, her eyes flashed in surprise and pleasure. To him, the smile that lit her face outshined the early morning sun. He handed her a glass and proposed, “A toast?”
“A toast,” she agreed. After a brief thought, she added, “To endings and beginnings.”
He caught her sparkling gaze and nodded. They touched glasses and took sips of the sweet juice. “I’m especially excited about the beginnings,” he said.
“Me, too,” she admitted. Reaching over, she put her hand over his. “Thank you for this, Gabriel. It’s an absolutely perfect gift.”
“How’s the orange juice?” the flight attendant asked, stopping by on her way to check in with the other first class passengers.
Turning, he gave her a smile. “It’s great, thanks.”
“Absolutely. Just let me know when you’re ready for refills.”
When the attendant moved on to the next row, Amber nudged him. Her eyes were laughing when he glanced over. “You should really consider dialing it back on the charm there, hon. You have all of the ladies in the first ten aisles of the plane giving you the yum-yum.”
“The ‘yum-yum?’” he repeated.
“Yeah.” She slid her gaze deliberately from his head down to his toes. “Yum yum.”
“Oh.” He felt embarrassment flood his face.
She sipped her juice and grinned. Lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone, she added, “That’s how I look at you when you’re not paying attention.”
When his lower jaw fell a couple of inches, she laughed heartily. She shook her head at him and then turned when something outside the window caught her attention.
Glancing surreptitiously over his shoulder, Gabriel spotted the businesswoman staring at him. She looked chagrined over having been caught gawking, but gave him a half-smile and wave. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed several other gazes focused on him. All of those gazes—with the notable exception of the increasingly weird blond guy from 10D—were from women.
Hunkering down in his seat and facing forward, he fought mortification. Most of the women looking at him were old enough to be his mother.
Amber turned back to him and saw his expression. She must have realized he had confirmed her theory. Patting his hand in a show of sympathy, she said, “It comes with being so polite and gentlemanly,” she guessed. “I just don’t think people are used to that kind of behavior anymore.”
“You think that’s it?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He considered that and sipped his orange juice. He supposed that had some merit.
Then she had to go and ruin it by adding, “And, you’re just plain gorgeous.”
It was just after 7:00 p.m. Alaskan Standard Time when their plane touched down in Anchorage, and the sun was still bright in the sky. Gabriel knew from his research that there would be nearly twenty-four hours of sunlight in Anchorage this time of year as the summer solstice approached. It was, without a doubt, one of the strangest things he had ever experienced. And with his body’s clock telling him it was 11:00 p.m., the cheery sunlight seemed even stranger.
“I don’t think I have ever been this exhausted before just from sitting,” Amber commented as the plane taxied up to their gate. She rolled her head in an attempt to stretch her neck and shoulder muscles.
Reaching over and gently rubbing the base of her neck where he felt a knot, he said, “Yeah, but we’re here!”
“Thank goodness.” When the plane lumbered to a halt and the overhead tones chimed to allow them to remove their seatbelts, she grinned at him. “Free at last!”
They had the privilege of being among the first people off the plane, something Amber swore made their airfare worth whatever price he had paid. He caught her hand and laced his fingers with hers once they entered the airport terminal. Although neither of them were experienced travelers, it didn’t take much more than common sense to follow the tide of passengers heading in the direction of the clearly identified baggage claim signs. They looked around with interest as they approached the baggage claim area and took in the vast amounts of gleaming chrome and glass comprising the architecture of the airport, as well as the spectacular outdoor views through the walls of windows.
Amber went in search of the bathroom while Gabriel waited for the luggage. He chanced to glance across the circulating baggage handler and noticed the blond businessman from 10D standing and apparently waiting for his own bags. He was once again staring right at Gabriel. Frowning, he considered approaching the weird guy to see what was up. Then he noticed Amber’s suitcase and reached over to heft it off the belt. When he looked up, the businessman was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged it off. By the time he had both of their suitcases pulled off the belt, Amber had approached and he had spotted where they needed to go to get a taxi.
“It would’ve been nice to have a rental car to get around in,” she said as they wheeled their luggage outside and over to the taxi stand. “Seems crazy that you have to be twenty-five to rent from most places.”
“Sure,” he agreed easily. “But I guess we’ll count ourselves lucky that we were able to get Mrs. Harris and Mrs. B to sign off on us taking this trip on our own even though you’re not eighteen yet.”
“True.”
They were second in line behind an older couple at the taxi stand. Gabriel had pulled their hoodies out of the suitcases and insisted that Amber put hers on before they stepped outside. As the wind gusted and pulled at her hair and he saw her shiver, he was glad he had. It felt like the temperature was sitting around sixty degrees. A far cry from the nearly ninety they had left behind.
It didn’t take long for them to be shown to a yellow taxi. Their driver was about Amber’s height and thick through the chest and waist. He wore a denim jacket over a black T-shirt and khaki pants with sneakers. His salt-and-pepper hair was thinning and more than a few wrinkles lined his face. He took their luggage with a cheerful smile and ushered them toward the back seat. Gabriel held the door on the passenger side open for Amber, closed it when she got in, and then walked over to the driver’s side back door. Their driver watched the procedure without comment as he closed the trunk.
“Where can I take you two today?” he asked as he got into the driver’s seat and secured his seat belt.
Gabriel appreciated that the driver didn’t sound condescending. He hadn’t been sure what to expect as far as service when it came to them being teenagers. He gave the driver the address of the two-bedroom guest house in the downtown area they had rented with Mrs. B’s assistance.
“You two visiting us from the south?”
“Yes, sir,” Gabriel said, squeezing Amber’s knee in amusement. “Guess the accents gave us away, huh?”
The driver gave a nod and short bark of laughter. “Welcome to Anchorage. You picked a great time of year to visit.”
While the driver rattled off facts and tidbits about the city that they had already learned in their research, Amber gazed out the window at the mountains in the distanc
e. Gabriel, on the other hand, kept his eyes on her. The air of eagerness and adventure that had gotten her out of bed hours before her usual time still clung to her like an aura. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her this unguarded. It was as though she had determined she was going to let go of her usual reservations and actually enjoy the moment.
Coming to Alaska had always been her dream. He knew that to be here now was a major accomplishment. He was very glad that he was a part of it.
They pulled up at the rental house about fifteen minutes later. He opened his door and walked around to the other side to open Amber’s. She waited for him out of habit, and he reached down to take her hand and assist her out.
“This place is amazing, Gabriel,” she said with a contented smile as she got out of the taxi. She looked over at the slate-gray rental house tucked away among the trees. “It’s even better than the pictures.”
It was when she caught his gaze that he froze.
Her eyes were molten gold.
Chapter Eight
Recognizing the look on Gabriel’s face, Amber’s smile disappeared. She took his hand and averted her gaze from the driver, who had opened the trunk and was retrieving their suitcases.
“I don’t feel any different,” she whispered tensely. “In fact, I feel great.”
Nodding after a brief moment of consideration, he said, “Go on up to the house and see if you can find the key where the rental agency said it would be. There should be a lockbox. I’ll take care of the luggage.”
She gave his hand one last squeeze and turned to do what he said. She numbly followed the short, paved path leading from the driveway to the front door, barely registering her surroundings.
What is happening to me? she wondered bleakly. Was she putting Gabriel in danger? The very thought pierced her heart.
The lockbox was right by the front door where the rental agency had indicated. She entered the code they had been given and the box opened to reveal a single silver key on a cheap, yellow plastic keychain listing the rental agency’s name and phone number. As she inserted the key into the lock and turned it, she heard the suitcases being wheeled up the sidewalk behind her.
“Let me get that,” Gabriel said, releasing the suitcase handles and stepping forward to open the dark red front door.
“Thanks,” she murmured, walking into the house and letting him handle the suitcases.
The entry opened directly into a living room/kitchen combination with warm, honey-toned hardwood floors and similarly shaded wood cabinets topped with Formica countertops that looked like flecked, dark-gray stone. Immediately to the right of the entrance at the edge of the kitchen was a small, round wood table covered with colorful placemats and surrounded by four wood chairs. To the left sat a comfortable-looking deep blue couch positioned in front of a wood-and-glass entertainment unit supporting a flat-panel television set. The walls were decorated with paintings of the Alaskan landscape. A hallway directly in front of her appeared to lead to the single bathroom and two bedrooms that completed the guest house, but she couldn’t seem to make herself move more than five feet past the entrance.
Gabriel brought the suitcases into the house and closed the front door. With sunlight coming in through the three large, gorgeous windows in the living room, there wasn’t any need to turn on a light. Walking over to her, he reached up and put his hands on either side of her face. He stared intently into her eyes.
“This is new,” he said after careful consideration. “I’m not sure how to describe it, exactly. Your eyes aren’t quite the same color gold as…when there’s about to be an Incident.”
Reaching up with her hands, she covered his wrists. “Tell me the truth. Do you think you’re in any danger, being with me right now?”
He didn’t answer immediately. If he had, she would have known he was lying. Instead, he slowly shook his head. “Something’s happening, but it doesn’t feel violent.”
A ragged sigh of relief escaped her. Unexpectedly, tears filled her eyes. Startled at her emotional reaction, she tried to pull away from him. His hold on her tightened.
“Don’t pull away,” he chided her gently.
A tear escaped. He brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. Despite her best efforts to control herself, another tear fell. His gaze tracked the tear’s path down her cheek with something akin to amazement. The action made her feel incredibly vulnerable.
“I can’t ever remember seeing you cry before. All of this held inside there just for me?” He held her gaze for another moment, communicating without words. Then he pulled her closer so she could lean into him.
She felt better just holding onto him. The solid connection seemed to give her strength. His familiar scent further soothed her, and her tears quickly dried. After another minute, she pulled back and looked at him.
“I think this is about the corniest thing I’ve ever said, but I couldn’t stand it if something happened and I hurt you.”
“Yep. Corny.” He gave her a brief smile, but his expression told her that he understood. After a pause of consideration, he mused, “Well, we’ve made it this long. I seem to have some kind of, I don’t know…immunity or something. I’m not sure. In fact…”
He stopped talking and kissed her.
Amber figured she should protest. The timing certainly didn’t seem right for passion or romance. But the mere contact of his lips on hers pushed all of that aside. Warmth, contentment, happiness and vibrant excitement unfurled within her, replacing her fears and anxiety over the unknown.
They eventually parted, and he once again looked into her eyes. One corner of his mouth rose.
“Huh.”
He seemed pleased and a little bewildered. Curiosity got the better of her, and she turned and marched determinedly down the hall to the bathroom. Because she grabbed his hand when she started walking, he followed. Flicking the light switch, she stared into the mirror. Her eyes widened, but she otherwise controlled her reaction to the change in her reflection.
“They were even more gold before I kissed you,” he said, also looking at her eyes in the mirror. “Now they’re kind of…”
“Amber,” she finished. Her grip on his hand had tightened with the flip of the light switch, and she consciously loosened her hold. They both stared at her eyes in the mirror for another few beats in silence, each lost in thought. Finally, she shook her head. “Man, this is crazy.”
“The best I can figure,” he said, turning her so that they were once again facing each other, “is you’re reacting to the dramatic change in your environment. I somehow help counteract that, maybe because I’m the closest thing to your usual ‘environment.’”
She thought about that for a moment. “Is it scary that I find that an acceptable explanation for my eyes dramatically changing color?”
He smiled. “When you’ve experienced what we have over the years, eye color seems almost superfluous.”
“You know how I like it when you use words like ‘superfluous.’”
“Of course I do.”
Grinning appreciatively, she patted his cheek. “This doesn’t mean we can continue to put off talking about The Incidents.”
“Sure. But why don’t we walk up to the grocery store and get some supplies before it closes. I know you won’t be happy in the morning if you don’t have your orange juice.”
Because he was right, she nodded and then took a more careful look around the bathroom. A shower-tub combo to the rear of the room was lined with serviceable beige tiles. The toilet sat to the left of the entrance between the tub and the white pedestal sink under the oval mirror. The hardwood floors from the front of the house continued through to the bathroom and bedrooms, so the owners of the home had placed a woven blue mat on the bathroom floor.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she glanced left and right and saw two bedrooms, both with queen-size beds. What appeared to be handmade quilts topped each of the beds, and serviceable wood furniture, more woven mats and paintings similar to those in t
he living room decorated each room.
“I’ll take the one with the pinkish spread,” she said generously.
“My manly sensibilities surely thank you.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Why don’t I haul those suitcases into the rooms and then we’ll head out?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
About an hour later, they were back from the local City Market and the fridge and cupboards were stocked with the basics they would need over the next few days. They had arranged their things in their bedrooms and taken their turns in the shower, and were now sitting at the kitchen table eating a late meal of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
“So, tell me about the first Incident,” he said.
She swallowed a bite of sandwich and asked, “The first one I remember?”
He thought about that. “I guess that’s an important distinction, huh?”
She nodded and took a drink of orange juice. Then, figuring she might as well just get on with it, she set her glass down. “I think the very first Incident happened when I was around three.” Seeing his interested expression, she continued, “Mrs. Harris left my file on her desk once when I was waiting in her office. I looked.”
“Of course you did.” He grinned at her.
Sensing his sincere ease with the conversation, she relaxed a bit. Why have I always dreaded this? she wondered now.
Fiddling with her napkin, she went on, “I was found in an abandoned industrial building shortly after I was born. Due to the neighborhood where I was found, it’s thought that my mother was a junkie and/or a prostitute. Apparently, investigators never found any evidence leading them to my parents. At that point, I was placed in my first foster home. Ed and Lisa Vonnegut. The file said everything had gone well and that adoption proceedings had begun.”
A pang passed through her at that, and she paused to take an unwanted bite of her sandwich to collect her thoughts. Yes, she had come very close to having a solid foundation on which to build her life…a happy family. She looked up and caught Gabriel’s understanding gaze.