by Vella Munn
Don’t think, not with her so close.
She started toward the stove only to whirl and stare at him. “No, not whatever. What did I do wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing.” You were perfect.
“That’s not what I’m talking about. You closed up a moment ago. That isn’t the first time that’s happened. Don’t try to tell me different.”
He was trapped, or he would be if he didn’t find a way to escape. And to protect her. “You’re—” Her cell phone rang before he could put a coherent sentence together.
She stepped around him, went to the counter where her phone was charging, and checked the displayed number. “No,” she muttered. “Darn it, no.” It rang two more times before she activated it and said “Hello.”
As he cracked eggs into a bowl and added milk, she did a lot of listening. She questioned several things and twice when she said the name Kannar, she fairly spat it.
“I hear you,” she said at length. “I appreciate being given the opportunity to challenge his argument. What I don’t like is being expected to justify my advice. We’ve worked on this long enough that—yes, I know it’s a business decision. This afternoon? You aren’t giving me much time to—all right. I’ll be there.”
She tapped the phone and returned it to the counter.
“Problems?” he asked when what he wanted to do was take her back to the bedroom and make the world go away.
She turned her attention to the kitchen window. “It’s going to be a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky.”
“Where will you be?”
“What? A meeting in Missoula this afternoon. If I don’t go, Kannar will win them over.” She faced him, trusting him with her weary eyes. “I’m so tired of competing. I just want…”
“What do you want?”
The way she was looking at him, he wished she would say he was all she wanted. He’d drink in her words and give them a place in his heart. For as long as he dared, he’d let her believe they were possible.
Then because he couldn’t face himself if he didn’t, he’d tell her the truth and watch what she felt for him die. He’d get on his bike and head into the woods—leave everything behind.
“I want to change careers.” Her eyes lightened a little, and the corners of her mouth lifted. “Do something I really care about.”
“You’ve thought about this quite a bit.”
“Thought, yes. Acted on it except in a small way, no. Instead—” She glared at the phone. “I do what I always have, what my dad expected me to.”
“He’s dead. You shouldn’t live your life according to his expectations.”
“Easier said than done since he started the company that supports me. Right now I need to focus on hopefully reminding the medical group of how hard we all worked before Kannar came along.”
“You’ll do it.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure how convincing I’ll sound.”
Focus on her. Don’t think about yourself. “Are you thinking this Kannar joker might have something worth considering?”
“I know the land he’s trying to ram down their throats. It’s relatively cheap for several reasons including access.”
“Then you shouldn’t have any—”
“The only engineer’s report comes from someone who does a lot of business with Kannar’s company.”
“That’s conflict of interest.”
“You think?” She raked her hand through her hair. “Sometimes the have-tos really suck.” She gave him the ghost of a smile. “It’s your fault.”
“How so?”
She took a pointed look at the bedroom door. “Last night you showed me what’s good about being alive.”
Don’t say that. I don’t deserve it.
Worrying her lower lip, she stared at the floor. “That just came out. If I’m coming on too strong…”
She was as emotionally off-balance as he felt. He took a huge risk by placing her hand on his chest. Words deserted him. All he could do was try to connect with her. He’d deal with the consequences later.
“My feelings for you”—she swallowed—“are pretty overwhelming.”
In the past he would have taken off the moment a woman said something like that. He’d done so to spare both of them.
“Say something, please,” she whispered. “It—oh, god, you’re thinking about what I told you about my father’s death.”
When she tried to lift her hand from his chest, he tightened his hold. “What about it?”
“Nate, I didn’t immediately go to him. Maybe my delay led to his death. I let a stupid argument blind me to—”
“Don’t!” He snapped and let go of her wrist. Wounded shock swam into her expression. He grasped her upper arms so she’d have no choice but to listen. “Don’t make yourself crazy reliving what happened. It won’t change anything. The past is that, the past.” An insistent voice tried to remind him that wasn’t true, but he didn’t dare listen to it. “Embrace today.”
Her mouth trembling, she stopped trying to pull free. “You don’t blame me?”
“Not in a million years, never. You’re human. None of us will ever be anything else. We aren’t perfect.”
“You are.”
Suddenly cold, he locked his knees in an attempt to keep his balance. “I’m probably the most imperfect person you’ll ever know.”
“I can’t believe that. You’re good and decent. My dog likes you, which is saying something. You gave a boy some vital advice and bailed out a damsel in distress. You—a lot of things.”
His head throbbed. The pain wouldn’t, couldn’t be this intense if she wasn’t looking at him with acceptance in her eyes. Acceptance. Something he barely comprehended.
He hadn’t told her what had happened during his last bike ride because he was still trying to come to grips with the experience. It had started like a thousand other rides with energy under him and the wind against him. Winter had been hard on the narrow trail which forced him to go slower than he wanted to. However, before long, he’d stopped chafing at the lack of speed and started imagining what would happen if she were with him. She’d identify various tree species and draw his attention to the occasional chipmunk or squirrel. She’d talk him into returning to the lake so they could look for osprey. He’d silence his bike and they’d listen to the wilderness.
Maybe she’d hold a finger to her mouth and point toward the base of a tree where a newborn fawn lay motionless. Hands clasped, they’d share the rare experience, knowing it would forever bond them.
He couldn’t go on deceiving the woman who’d trusted him with her deepest regret.
“Alisha, there’s something you need to know about me.” He managed despite a throat that threatened to close down. “I—” Stop being a coward. “I killed someone.”
She went still, didn’t move. Maybe stopped breathing. Despite his desperate need to hold onto her and the sweet, fragile thread of what existed between them, he gave her freedom and stepped away. He’d ripped himself open and now stood bloody and exposed before her.
“Killed? I don’t understand,” she muttered.
“There’s no way you could.”
Her mouth trembled. “Who? When?”
“Years ago.”
Still again, she glared at him. “Don’t make me ask. I deserve better.”
She was right. Only a coward would force someone he cared a great deal about to drag the truth out of him.
Sick to his stomach and with his heart threatening to explode, he forced out words he hoped he’d never have to say. “My old man.”
“My, god. Why?”
“He deserved it.”
Looking shocked, she shook her head. “There has to be more to the story.”
“No.” He lied. “There isn’t.”
“Is it that or don’t you want to tell me?”
“I owed it to you to let you know.”
“What are you saying, that the story’s over? You’re shutting down?”
/>
He couldn’t deal with her emotions any more than he could handle his. No wonder this had been his private nightmare for so long. “That’s not how I see it.” Why couldn’t he stop evading? “You and I were getting pretty deep. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I allowed things to continue like they were.”
“Were? Allowed things to continue?” Her face paled. “What are you saying?”
Don’t hurt her any more than you already have. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry. Ah, look, never mind. I’m leaving.”
“Just like that? Nate, you can’t—”
“It’s best this way. The only way.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
ALISHA OPENED HER car’s front side door and stared at the interior. Usually Bruce took that as an invitation to slide past the steering wheel and into the back seat, but now, two hours after Nate had driven away, the big dog remained outside looking at her. There was none of the usual tail-wagging that accompanied knowing he was going for a ride.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just can’t…” Not sure what she’d started to say, she closed the door and started toward the lake. The documentation she’d need for this afternoon’s meeting was in the briefcase she’d already loaded, but she didn’t trust herself to get behind the wheel.
It wasn’t fair! Today promised to be the warmest so far this spring. The lake was alive with ducks. If not for the have-tos, she’d get out her binoculars and sit down by the dock.
The dock Nate had repaired.
“I didn’t know what to say,” she told Bruce when they were standing on the sturdy planking overlooking the lake. “Didn’t know how to convince him to trust me with his story.”
Bruce nudged her side as if encouraging her to continue.
“What did he mean by making a mistake?” She turned into the soft breeze. “Was he talking about us or what he’d done or—I don’t know. Did you hear what he called him, his old man? He sounded—I was going to say he sounded as if he hated his father but there wasn’t any emotion. Oh, Nate…”
Even though she was wearing dress slacks, she dropped to her knees and hugged her dog. Her head pounded and her throat felt tight. So much had backed up inside her, all of it jumbled together and making a big mess.
“What an awful thing for anyone to carry around inside him. No wonder he didn’t say anything before. Look what it took for me to tell him about my father’s last day.” She struggled to clarify her thinking but couldn’t. She couldn’t remember ever being so confused. “We were lovers. I trusted him with my body. Stripped myself naked in more ways than just the obvious one. Why couldn’t he do the same? He gave me so little.” She rubbed her forehead. “Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t said anything.”
Even as she spoke, she didn’t mean it. Remaining silent might have torn him apart.
“He killed his father,” she whispered. “What—how—why didn’t he—Why did he do it? What happened after? Was he tried and convicted? Maybe—does he move around so much because he’s on the run?”
Shocked by what she’d just said, she started rocking. Nate a fugitive? “I’m so confused. And hurt.” She sucked in air. “Darn it, this shouldn’t be all about me. He lived it, not me. If he hadn’t driven away, maybe we could have—is he capable of telling me, or anyone, what happened? Will he ever be able to?”
Even though Bruce whined and licked her face, she wasn’t sure the dog understood what she was saying. How could he when she didn’t?
“Don’t move, all right?” She braced her hands on Bruce’s broad back and stood. That done, she rubbed her knees. “Bad idea. I need more padding there.”
The first time she’d brought Bruce here, the ducks had startled him and he’d launched himself into the lake. It wasn’t until he’d resurfaced that he remembered he didn’t do water. Glaring at her because it was her fault, he’d clawed his way to shore and shaken water all over her. Since then he left the ducks alone. This morning they fascinated her.
“I don’t want to see him right now. What if I say all the wrong things or hear something…”
She’d barely gotten the last out before her throat closed down. Her eyes burned. Thank goodness Doc had left with his grandson because she couldn’t have kept her pain from them.
I made a mistake. I’m leaving now.
Those and more had been Nate’s exact words. Even though she didn’t fully comprehend them, she had no choice but to honor them. Besides, he couldn’t hurt her any more than he had if she wasn’t seeing him, could he?
“I’m a mess,” she told Bruce as she started back toward the cabin. “Can’t think, so why am I trying?”
Murderer. Killer.
His father.
Why?
Chapter Twenty-Five
THE MEETING HAD only lasted an hour, but Alisha decided to remain in Missoula instead of going back to the cabin. She supposed she could have tried to connect with a friend to have dinner with but she was in no state to hold up her end of a conversation. Going to a movie or watching TV would also be lost causes because her mind was like a hamster on a wheel, going nowhere fast with no way out. If she saw Nate right now, she might explode. Her mind and heart were full, aching. Tears too close, dangerous.
She picked up something to eat and took it to her place where Bruce was waiting for her. She let him out, took off her shoes, and placed the meal in the microwave. Only then did she check her cell phone. She had two messages.
The first was from Shaw Chamberlin. He and Rey Bowen had been at her cabin not long after she’d left. Based on his contractor’s assessment of the cabin’s exterior and what Nate had told him about the interior’s condition, he wanted to buy it to add to the resort’s inventory. The figure he offered was nearly double what she’d thought it was worth.
Shocked, she slumped in the recliner she used to watch TV. Not long ago she’d been trying to decide how she’d cut back on her personal budget if her clients decided to go with Kannar. Now, when she couldn’t process another thing, she was being offered a sum that would do away with financial concerns for the foreseeable future.
“What am I going to do?” she asked the empty room. Knowing Bruce, he wouldn’t be done exploring the back yard for a while. Besides, not only didn’t she trust her ability to answer her question, she sounded crazy talking to herself.
There was only one person she wanted to talk to.
The last person on earth she had the emotional strength to face tonight.
It dawned on her that she hadn’t started the microwave but standing back up took more energy than she had. Too bad the TV remote was out of reach.
Her right hand started to ache, reminding her that she was still holding onto her cell. Maybe the other message was from Nate. She could listen to it, not respond.
“Hello,” he said in the sensual low tone that got to her. “I just wanted—maybe you already know this, but Shaw asked my opinion of your cabin. I felt I had to be honest. Ah, if you’re thinking about coming back any time soon, I’m not sure you should be driving. You don’t have to call to tell me where you’re spending the night. I understand why you wouldn’t want to, but please leave a text.”
A text was safe, remote, unemotional. She could let him know where she was although she probably should acknowledge his concern. He hadn’t come out and said he held himself responsible for what he rightly guessed was her emotional state but what else could he have been talking about?
Instead of making a decision, she replayed his message. After listening for the third time, she slumped lower in the recliner and started to cry. She wasn’t certain what her tears were about, maybe a culmination of everything that had happened since she’d awakened this morning to discover him no longer in her bed.
Just yesterday she’d thought he might cease his wandering ways because of his feelings for her. He might move his belongings into the cabin. At peace, he would join her on the dock for shared morning coffee. He’d spot the first eagle and direct her attention to an
osprey as it dove into the water. They’d smile together, share, breathe the same pine-scented air.
Life wasn’t that simple.
As she wiped at her tears, she recalled other times when she’d needed the catharsis of a hard cry but never had because her father would have faulted her weakness. Her father didn’t matter today, only Nate did. Nate who would never see these tears.
She’d told Nate what she had and hadn’t done the day her father died. However, instead of being honest with her about what he’d done, he’d remained silent. Let her confession hang in the air.
Darn it, there she went again, thinking of herself. What made her think he would trust her with a secret to end all secrets? Her crime was in the category of maybe while his had been absolute. He’d ended his father’s life. Obviously he didn’t want to talk about it, but if he insisted on keeping that door closed, it would drive a wedge between them. It already had.
After letting Bruce back in, she blew on her cold fingers in an attempt to make them work.
“I’m home.” She texted. She started to tell Nate about her meeting only to erase the words. Neither did she say anything about when she intended to return to Lake Serene because she didn’t know. She wasn’t proud of herself.
Confused and lost.
*
UNABLE TO PUT up with his own company, once work was over on the day he’d walked out on Alisha, Nate had jumped on his bike and explored another trail until long after dark. The journey hadn’t held his interest. It simply represented something to do and enough boulders, steep downhills, and deep ruts that he was hard-pressed to concentrate on anything else while he was on the move, which had been his intention. He hadn’t seen a fawn. He’d barely slept.
The next day had been his day off but he’d offered to go to Missoula to pick up the materials needed for the new building’s fire sprinkler system. He’d longed to drive by Alisha’s office but hadn’t allowed himself to because what if she’d spotted his vehicle? She might think he was stalking her.