by Vella Munn
“She might be off deer and onto something else by then.”
“Even if she is, a knock-kneed, spotted newborn will get to her.” This was why he’d accepted her dinner invitation, so they could talk. And touch. And feel. “When the family was here, she let me know that if she was the boss of Lake Serene she wouldn’t allow fishing because it’s mean to fish.”
Haley’s chuckle vibrated through him. Yes, he wanted a lot of touching. Embracing. “I remember those years with my nieces,” she said. “I loved how everything was new and exciting to them. They wore their hearts on their sleeves and loved every living thing except for mosquitoes.”
It was his turn to laugh followed by admitting that Alexa’s loving nature didn’t always extend to her brother. When Haley warned him, based on her experience as an aunt, that Alexa would soon prefer to be with her friends, he relaxed. Standing so close to her while dealing with the desire to kiss her, to help her out of her clothes and into her bedroom wasn’t easy, but at least the evening was no longer in danger of falling apart.
“I’m sorry to have to say this.” She sighed. “But my legs are aching. I don’t think I sat all day.”
That was his clue to say it was time for him to leave. She’d played cook and hostess and wanted back her space back. He understood. A man and a woman trying to define their relationship needed to do so by slow and careful stages. Their connection would move forward one step at a time. Maybe they’d reach a place of emotional and physical intimacy. Maybe things would splutter and die.
The possibility of that happening chilled him. At the same time, despite the risks, and they were considerable, he longed to open up.
What he didn’t know was if he actually could do that or how she’d react.
“Maybe we need to switch jobs for a few days.” He reluctantly removed his arm from her. “Would you be up to sitting behind a desk while I run the snowmobile operation?”
She trailed behind him as he headed for the couch and the coat he’d draped over it. If she asked him to say, would he? Hell, yes.
“Do you think anyone would notice if we did each other’s jobs?” she asked.
“Your clients would. They’d take one look at me and know I’m in over my head.”
“I could handle the sitting down part for a while. Its dealing with your uncle I’m not interested in.”
“Smart woman.”
After that there didn’t seem to be anything to say and nothing to do except go to the door. His nerves took note of how close to him she remained. His heart was making its presence known, and his hand didn’t want to reach for the doorknob.
“Thanks for the invitation.” He’d meant to keep his back to her so why was he turning around? “I had a wonderful time.”
“So did I.”
Maybe she meant it. Maybe she was saying what she thought he wanted to hear. Whichever it was, he cupped her cheeks and tilted her head upward. Her lips parted as she exhaled a breath. He leaned closer. Waiting for her to invite him to kiss her nearly killed him.
“I shouldn’t,” she muttered. “We shouldn’t.”
“Yes, we should.”
Sighing, she took hold of his arms and lifted herself onto her toes. She was morning light and evening mist rolled into one, vibrant life and wanting. He forced away the question of how far she’d let him go and settled himself into this moment. Covered her mouth with his.
They kissed. It was as simple and complex as that, two people taking and giving. He didn’t project beyond the wonder of her leaning into him and her fingers gripping him through his long-sleeve shirt. He didn’t know whether it was day or night, winter or summer, just that they were doing this.
Swallowing was nearly impossible. He couldn’t feel his legs. Their contact was light, more magic than reality, strangers looking for boundaries, seeking understanding.
Sighing, she sank back onto the balls of her feet. Her hold on his arms tightened. He slid his fingers down the sides of her neck and onto her shoulders. She felt fragile and strong, multi layered.
Finally, hating what he was doing, he pushed her back a few inches. She nodded.
“Too much too fast,” she said. “I know.”
“I don’t want—rushing would be a mistake.”
“Yes, it would. There are relationship increments we need to adhere to. A pattern.”
He’d never thought of a developing romance in those terms but there was wisdom in what she’d said. If they skipped over any of the steps, they might lose—what, their momentum? Perhaps the ability to maintain control?
Unable to make sense of his thoughts and what his body wanted him to pay attention to, he released her. As he opened the door, winter rushed in. Consideration for her comfort prompted him to step outside, but before he could close the door, she slipped behind him. Coatless and wearing slippers, she stood next to him.
“Smell it.” She stroked his arm. “The scent of snow. The longer I’m here the more it seduces me.”
He inhaled deeply followed by taking her hand. Another kind of seduction gnawed at him. “You might not say that by March.”
“No, I won’t. Shaw, I’m falling in love with Lake Serene.”
“Does that mean you want to come back next winter?” To me?
“I think so.”
“The job’s yours if you want it.”
“I do.”
Were they talking about more than the snowmobile operation? “There’s—something else I’d like you to think about. The man in charge of boat rentals is retiring. Come spring you could shadow him and decide if you’d like the job.”
She started to tremble. “Just like that? You’re offering the position to me? What if I make a mess of it?”
“You won’t.”
Still shaking, she threaded her fingers through his. “That’s a lot to think about.” She sounded so hesitant it alarmed him. “I should get through this first season before I make a commitment but…”
“But what?”
“I haven’t connected with a place since I was a child. I’d forgotten how powerful that draw can be.”
“Powerful?”
“Maybe that’s the wrong word.”
“It isn’t if that’s what you feel.”
“Thanks for saying that.”
“You said this is the first time you’ve felt connected to a place. What was the other one like?”
“Very different from here. My family lived in a hundred year old farmhouse on a few acres of land near the edge of town. Mom’s chickens kept us in eggs and my father raised pigs. No matter what went on inside that house…”
Despite everything his body was telling him, he realized she’d crossed a line she hadn’t known she would and was looking for a way to step back. He could pretend he hadn’t caught onto what was happening, or he could try to force honesty from her.
“You don’t have to talk about what happened inside the house.” Hoping to keep her warm, he folded her against his chest. “Tell me about outside.”
She took several long breaths followed by leaning against him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I can do that. The pigs. I loved watching the babies. Mom let me take care of the chicks. I’d tuck them under my chin. They—they never pecked me. I could tell them everything.”
“Was the land flat?” he asked in an attempt to keep things going. “Maybe there were a lot of trees. Probably not as many as we have here.”
“No.”
“Help me here so I can better imagine the place. What about where the chickens and pigs were kept?”
“Hills. Rolling hills. I’d do cartwheels all the way down them. Sometimes Mick put me in front of him on his bike. We’d speed down the hills with me making believe I was on horseback. I’d spend hours looking at the trees and long dry grasses and tell myself I was going to live there all my life.”
“Who did you want living there with you?”
She again breathed long and slow. “Mick and my horse.”
�
��Not your parents?”
A hiss exploded from her as she twisted free. “You won’t be satisfied? You want to know everything.”
He couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“All right.” She stood as far as possible from him. In the poor light he couldn’t tell whether she was still shivering. If she was, was it from emotion or cold? “I’ll tell you. Get it over with.”
“You don’t—”
“Yes I do. My mother was murdered. You know that. What you didn’t know was—my father killed her.”
Chapter Sixteen
Blood. Silence. A room filled with night and silence. No way out, no freedom. Trapped with a body. Heart hurting and throat dry from screaming. Tears burning her eyes. Fear. So much fear. And self-hatred.
“Mommy? Mommy, where are you?”
Movement.
“No! Go away.”
Haley woke with the familiar cry on her lips and her sheet twisted like rope around her. Because the nightmare would return if she went back to sleep, she got up, put on her robe, and went into the living room. She turned on the TV and powered up her iPod, but her attempt to distract herself wasn’t enough. After checking Facebook and a failed attempt to find a decent middle of the night movie, she made herself a cup of hot chocolate and tucked a throw around her legs.
It was a little after four in the morning which meant she’d slept longer than she usually did on the dream nights. She wanted to turn on her outside light but that might disturb her neighbors so changed to an all-music station on the TV in the hope it would quiet her mood.
The Christmas songs she’d found were mostly modern with just enough of the traditional carols sprinkled in to take her back to when her mother had told her about her own childhood in the same farmhouse. Haley’s grandparents on her mother’s side had died when Haley was too young to remember them, but her mother had brought them to life with pictures, stories of a house filled with Grandma’s baking, and a grandfather who kept the wood stove stoked.
Stay with the good. Focus on the safe and not the other.
However, no matter how hard she tried, the seeds of the nightmare she’d lived with since her mother’s violent death again sprouted. She knew what had spawned tonight’s dream—Shaw.
Not Shaw himself, she amended, but what she’d told him.
Darn it, why had she revealed so much? Only a handful of people, and no one in her current life, knew that her father had murdered her mother. She’d never intended to tell Shaw what she had. Because of the emotional and sensual impact he was having on her, she’d gone so far as to warn herself to avoid subjects that came remotely close to that time in her life.
But she’d told him. He knew. There was no taking anything back. The next time she saw him, he’d look at her with sympathy and pity. He might ask for details.
No details. Nothing more than the little she’d told him because he’d hate her if he knew everything.
*
Christmas Eve arrived the better part of a week before Haley thought it was due. The twenty-fourth had snuck up on her while she’d been distracted by work plus making a flying trip to Kalispell. She couldn’t put a name to what was happening between Shaw and herself but she’d made gingerbread cookies as his Christmas gift. The domestic chore had been deeply satisfying.
There’d been two storms since she’d had Shaw over for dinner, one a quick in and out that hadn’t produced much snow. However, the other had deposited four more inches of the white stuff before moving on. Because she’d already tested the trail groomer, she’d turned its operation over to Daron so she could focus on the steady stream of clients.
When she wasn’t working, she conferred with Daron about which online classes he should take. He’d wanted to start with a single class, math. She’d convinced him to add another, science.
The first time Shaw called after they had dinner at her place, all he’d done was tell her that someone had spotted several elk on the road into the Bob Marshall Wilderness. After agreeing they wished they’d seen them, they decided the elk had probably chosen the road since the going was easier where snow had either been removed or packed down. What he said didn’t matter as much as the tone of his voice and the way it lingered inside her long after they’d hung up. She’d fallen asleep that night replaying their conversation and hadn’t had any disturbing dreams.
He’d called again the next morning. After asking how she was doing and praising her slow cooker skills, he informed her that area media was planning to cover the dog sled races. He’d already assigned a staff member to handle accommodations for the dogs, their owners, and equipment. His uncle wanted to increase cabin rental rates during the event, but Shaw managed to convince him that goodwill was more important. She wasn’t sure why Shaw had told her what he had, maybe because he considered her one of the few people he could be honest with about his uncle. Once more she’d gone to bed with his voice in her head and the memory of his mouth on hers.
The next evening she’d dropped by his office with a picture of a print in the snow one of her clients had taken—and because she hadn’t seen him for too long. They agreed that the print was too small to have been made by a wolf. It must have been deposited by a dog running alongside a snowmobile. Talking about the pros and cons of letting dogs run loose in the wilderness had helped her deal with her awareness of herself as a woman every time she was in his presence.
When he’d mentioned that the special of the evening was baked chicken, she’d accepted his invitation to join him in the restaurant. The public space was safe and ordinary, nowhere as hard on her nerves as being alone with him and yet she hadn’t tasted her meal.
As for sleeping that night—well, the less admitted about the lack thereof, the better.
They got into the routine, if it could be called that, of calling each other several times a day. She didn’t give much thought to why she was punching his number beyond wanting to hear his voice. She told him about clients who buried snowmobiles in snow and blamed the machines instead of taking responsibility. He countered by suggesting she let the clients get themselves out of their self-imposed fixes. Both knew he didn’t mean it and she wouldn’t.
When she said ‘hello’ in response to his ring on Wednesday afternoon, he complained about children on Christmas break who ran their sleds on the path from the lodge to the lake. Not only was he concerned about liability, he envied them. Eyes closed, she imagined the two of them on a sled, speeding down the hill and onto the ice.
Every evening either she swung by the resort on the way home or he came to where she was working. The first time he showed up, Daron had been concerned he’d done something wrong. After that, Shaw waited until the young man had left for the day. Sharing her office or the snowmobile barn with Shaw thrilled her in ways she didn’t examine too closely. All she knew was she wanted to have as much time with him as possible.
Twice they went to the restaurant. Shaw said he didn’t want to pretend she wasn’t becoming important to him. She demonstrated her agreement by kissing his cheek, a gesture she had no doubt others took note of. After dinner, he walked her to her vehicle and enveloped her as much as possible considering their heavy coats. Their kisses lingered and kept her aware of her body until long after bedtime.
They didn’t go to each other’s place, didn’t so much as discuss the possibility. She had no doubt that if they did, it wouldn’t be to share a meal or talk about their day, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to make that move—or maybe the truth was, she was so ready she didn’t know how to handle her emotions.
One thing she did know—Shaw deserved more than what she’d told him about her mother’s death. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about that tonight, she assured herself as she entered the room dominated by the aromatic Christmas tree. Tables full of holiday foods and drinks had been set out, and the fireplace was blazing. Considering the heat it gave out, she was glad she was wearing one of the two dressy blouses she owned. A Santa who looked suspiciously like
a bearded and padded Nate Quaid sat in an oversized chair to the left of the fireplace with a line of children waiting to sit on his lap. Nate’s fiancé Alisha stood near Santa handing out wrapped gifts.
Haley waved at Alisha. Even though she felt closer to Echo and Kolina because the two women lived at Lake Serene, she was looking forward to when Alisha’s cabin across the lake was accessible by car.
She’d given serious thought to Shaw’s offer of a job managing the rental boats. Knowing she’d be employed full-time was both reassuring and a little unsettling. Was she really ready to put down roots? It wasn’t that she didn’t want to live here, she did, but Shaw factored in—a lot.
In fact he was the main consideration and the great unanswered.
Shaw had said he’d hook up with her here, but the room was so crowded she couldn’t tell if he’d arrived. The promotional team had gone all out in inviting the public to Lake Serene for a traditional Christmas. Every room and cabin had been rented and she’d had to turn away a number of people who’d wanted to spend part of Christmas Day snowmobiling. Daron hadn’t been crazy about having to work tomorrow, but Shaw had sweetened things by telling all employees they’d be paid double.
“Are you ready for the twenty-fifth?” Shaw asked from behind her. “It’s going to be a long day.”
Instantly alive, she leaned back against his chest and tightened her hold on the tin of gingerbread cookies. So much for being chilled from the short walk from the parking lot. Just like that, she was more than warm, and turned on.
“I’ll let you know once it’s over.” She managed to say.
“Just don’t call early to complain.” His breath penetrated her hair and reached her scalp. “My Christmas gift to myself is to sleep in.”
Thinking to glare, she started to spin around. He stopped her by wrapping an arm around her collarbone from behind. She couldn’t say she was relaxed, not with him so close, but there wasn’t anywhere she’d rather be or anyone other than him she wanted to spend tonight with.