by Irene Hannon
Cal didn’t mind. He was just glad she’d accepted his invitation. It had seemed touch-and-go for a while, and he’d been prepared to press her if she’d turned him down when he’d arrived with the pizza. But surprisingly she had said yes with no further discussion. She’d mentioned that she’d talked with her sister that day, and if Kate was responsible for Amy’s decision, then he owed her. Big time. Because the more he’d thought about it, the more confident he was that his middle-of-the-night inspiration to invite her home was sound. Though they’d never discussed—or even acknowledged—the attraction between them, it was as real as the mountains looming ahead. And it was time to face it. Here, away from the distractions of their everyday lives, perhaps they could both come to grips with their feelings.
Amy made a soft sound, and he glanced toward her just as her eyelids flickered open.
“Hi, sleepyhead,” he teased with a smile.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes in an endearing little-girl gesture that tugged at his heart.
“Hi.” She peered at her watch, and then quickly straightened up, her eyes widening. “Have I been asleep for three hours?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, Cal, I’m sorry! I meant to keep you company during the drive.”
“You needed the rest. And I’ve made this drive alone more times than I can count. It’s only five or six hours. It gives me a chance to unwind and let the cares of the city slip away.”
Amy gazed out the window and scanned the landscape appreciatively. “It’s beautiful here.”
“We’re just in the foothills. It’s even better closer to the park. We should be at Gram’s cabin in less than an hour.”
They chatted companionably during the remainder of the trip, and in what seemed only a few minutes, Cal turned into a gravel driveway that led toward a cabin.
“This is home,” he said quietly, stopping the car for a moment to gaze at the scene.
The cabin was fairly rustic, separated from the road by a large meadow. Colorful flowers spilled from planters along the porch railing, and a grove of pine trees seemed to come right up to the back door. In an adjacent pasture a horse grazed contentedly against a serene backdrop of misty blue-hued mountains.
The peace of the scene stole over Amy, and for the first time in a long while she felt the always-present tension in her shoulders begin to ease. There was a calmness to this place that made the location seem far away from the hustle and bustle of her world—not only in miles, but in spirit. The quiet—broken only by an occasional birdcall—and the beauty of nature were like a balm for the soul, and Amy drew in a long, slow breath.
When she turned to Cal, he was watching her with an enigmatic expression on his face. She sensed that he was waiting for her to comment, and she struggled to find the words to capture her first reaction.
“I think I already understand why you love this place so much,” she said softly. “It’s like a world apart. There’s so much beauty and calmness here, and a kind of…I don’t know how to describe it exactly. It’s like a special tranquillity that you just breathe in.”
His smile warmed her to her toes. “I hoped you might see it that way.” Their gazes held for a long moment, and then he turned and nodded toward the porch. “I think the welcoming committee is waiting.”
Amy followed his gaze. Two people stood by the railing, waving.
“Gram and my dad,” Cal explained as he put the car in gear.
As they closed the distance to the cabin, Amy studied the two people who were so special to Cal. Interestingly enough, neither was exactly what she’d expected. Though there was a resemblance between Cal and his father, the older man was much shorter than his son, and slightly stooped. His thinning hair was mostly gray, but there were enough sandy-colored strands left to provide a clue to its original color. He had a nice but careworn face and kind eyes. Quiet and gentle were the words that came to mind as Amy looked at him.
Cal’s grandmother was also thin, but she radiated energy. She was dressed in jeans, her white hair closely cropped, and anticipation flashed in her eyes. Amy could almost imagine her hopping from one foot to the other in her excitement, an image so “ungrandmotherly,” it brought a smile to her lips. By the time Cal stopped the car and started to alight, the older woman was waiting at his door.
“My, it’s good to see you, son!” she said, hugging him fiercely. “You’ve been way too scarce.”
Cal’s father followed more slowly, a pipe in one hand, and patiently waited his turn to greet his son. When Cal at last stepped free of Gram’s enthusiastic embrace, he reached out and pulled his father into a bear hug.
“Hello, Dad.”
“Hello, son. It’s good to have you home.”
The two men stood like that for a long minute, and Amy could sense the bond of love between them. In fact, the three of them shared a circle of love that suddenly made her feel like an intruder. She didn’t belong here. Cal should have used this rare break to spend time with his family, not entertain her. Maybe he was already regretting the invitation. Maybe she should…
As if sensing their visitor’s sudden discomfort, Gram leaned in the open door of the driver’s side and smiled warmly.
“You must be Amy.” She held out her hand, and Amy’s was engulfed in a firm clasp. “I’m Gram. Or Amanda. Whatever you prefer. I hope you’ll excuse us. We’re kind of a gushy bunch when we haven’t seen each other for weeks. Usually we have a little more decorum when it comes to public displays of affection.” She turned back to the two men and clapped Cal on the back. “Break it up, you two. Let’s go inside so our guest can settle in and I can get dinner on the table.”
Cal smiled and leaned in to look at Amy. “Sit tight. I’ll get your door.”
Before she could protest, he strode around to her side and pulled it open, Gram and his father close on his heels.
“Gram, Dad, this is Amy Winter. Amy, I’d like you to meet my family.”
Cal’s father stepped forward shyly and took her hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Amy. Cal has told us a lot of nice things about you.”
She smiled at the older man’s courtly manner. “I’ve heard good things about you, too. I’m glad we had this chance to meet.”
Gram stepped forward next and enveloped her in a hug. She was small and wiry, but there was strength in her arms—and in her face. “We’re mighty glad you came to visit, Amy. And honored. Cal told us all about how you got hurt saving that little boy. You feeling okay after that long ride?”
Before she could reply, Cal spoke up. “She’s tired. And I’m sure she’s hungry. We didn’t stop to eat on the way up.”
“Well, say no more. Dinner’s on the stove. Some good food and rest will fix you up in no time, Amy. And the mountain air will do wonders for you. Clear your lungs of all that smog you breathe down in Atlanta.”
Cal smiled. “It’s good to be back, Gram.”
She returned the smile, and when she spoke, her voice was warm and rang with a quiet sincerity. “Well, we’re mighty glad to have you back. Welcome home—both of you.”
Cal glanced at Amy. For a moment their gazes met and held. And as he wondered if Gram’s words were somehow prophetic, Amy had the oddest feeling. She’d never been anywhere near the Smokies before. But for some inexplicable reason, it really did feel like coming home.
Chapter Ten
Two hours later, stuffed with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, homemade biscuits with honey and warm-from-the-oven apple pie with ice cream, Amy thought she was going to explode.
“I haven’t eaten that much since…well, maybe never,” she groaned as she and Cal rocked gently on the porch swing.
He smiled. “Gram’s a great cook.”
“Agreed. I feel guilty about not helping with the cleanup, though.”
“Don’t. Hospitality is Gram’s middle name. We’ll have more luck pitching in after we’ve been around for a few days.”
The slowly-sinking sun cast a golden glow on the lan
dscape, and Amy sighed contentedly as the swing moved rhythmically back and forth. “It’s nice here,” she murmured.
“I thought you’d be missing the city lights by now,” Cal teased.
“I’m used to rural life, remember?”
“But you don’t like it.”
“I wouldn’t want to go back to the farm,” she conceded. “But this is different.”
When he didn’t respond, she turned to find him studying her, a cryptic expression on his face.
“What are you thinking?” she asked curiously.
He seemed momentarily taken aback by the question, but he recovered quickly. “Just wondering how you’re feeling. How’s the head?”
She glanced away. “Okay.”
“Amy…”
She looked back at him, caught off guard by his gently chiding tone. “What?”
“The truth.”
She tilted her head and studied his deep brown eyes, a frown creasing her brow. “How do you know I’m not telling the truth?”
He shrugged. “Your tone. Your body language. I don’t know how I know. I just know.”
She shook her head. “No wonder you’re such a good attorney. You have amazing powers of perception.”
“Only with certain people.” Before she could ponder that remark, he distracted her by draping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Lean your head against me and relax.”
Relax? With her cheek pressed against the soft cotton of his shirt, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear? With the faint scent of his aftershave filling her nostrils? With the angle of his jaw brushing against her forehead, the faint end-of-day stubble creating a sensuous texture against her skin? He must be kidding!
But as they swung gently back and forth, and dusk slowly deepened, she did relax. Cal could feel the gradual easing of her tense muscles, knew exactly when she finally dropped her defenses and simply gave herself up to the moment. He also knew she was afraid, just as he was, and he understood her caution. But he also knew—in fact, was even beginning to hope—that perhaps their fears were groundless. And before they left the mountains, he intended to find out.
“Amanda, these are gorgeous!” Amy held up yet another intricate hand-stitched quilt, her eyes alight.
Gram looked pleased. “The ladies do a wonderful job,” she agreed. “But all of our craftspeople are talented.”
Amy carefully laid the quilt down and glanced around the attractive and bustling craft co-op. Cal had told her how Gram had started it years ago to give locals an outlet for their work—as well as a chance to supplement often meager incomes—and how she had worked tirelessly to build it into a thriving business that visitors now sought out. Amy could see why. The quality of the merchandise was excellent, as was the variety.
“I’m impressed, Amanda,” she said honestly. “Cal told me about this, but I had no idea it was anything on this scale.”
Gram waved the praise aside. “I like to keep busy. And if I can help my neighbors at the same time, all the better. I’m glad it worked out for everybody.”
“Ready to go?” Cal came up beside Amy and draped an arm across her shoulders, something he’d been doing quite a lot of since they arrived.
She turned to look up at him, melting in the warmth of his eyes. Her voice suddenly deserted her, and she simply nodded.
“We’ll be home in a couple of hours, Gram,” Cal said.
“Don’t hurry. I’ll be here awhile yet, and your dad’s at a church committee meeting. You give Amy a good tour, show her some of our great scenery. But don’t wear her out,” she warned.
Cal smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.” He let his arm drop from her shoulders, but in the next instant captured her hand in a warm clasp as they headed for his car.
It was just another manifestation of the change that Amy had sensed in him almost from the moment he’d picked her up at her apartment. Until then, he’d held his feelings carefully in check. She figured that, like her, he’d probably overanalyzed the situation and arrived at the logical conclusion that nothing could develop between them. But neither had reckoned with the power of the heart or the strength of their mutual attraction, she admitted. She was still waging the fight between logic and emotion, but it appeared that Cal, at least for the duration of this trip, was letting his heart dictate his actions. Which suggested some interesting possibilities, Amy realized, as a delicious shiver of excitement swept over her.
Once they were on the road, Cal took on the role of tour guide as they drove along some of the many scenic roads in the park. Finally he pulled into a parking area and turned to her.
“Do you feel like a little walk?”
“Sure. I even dressed for outdoor activity.”
“I noticed.” Her cotton blouse softly hugged her curves, nipped in at her slender waist by a hemp belt that emphasized her trim figure. Her long legs were encased in formfitting jeans that highlighted her lean, athletic build. But despite the ruggedness of her attire, she looked incredibly feminine—and very, very appealing. Yes, he’d definitely noticed, he thought wryly.
“I’m not exactly up to mountain climbing, though,” she cautioned, redirecting his train of thought.
“What I had in mind was a nice, easy walk along that stream.” He nodded to a tumbling brook, just visible through the trees.
“Sounds just my speed.”
As they set off, he once more took her hand, and Amy felt a lightness of heart that was at once strange and wonderful. Here, in this place, so far removed from the normal routine of her life, she suddenly felt free to let her feelings bubble to the surface—and to savor them instead of fear them. She liked being with Cal, liked the feel of his strong, sure fingers entwined with hers, liked the sense of being cared for that his presence invoked. They were good feelings, new feelings, feelings that at once both frightened and stirred her. And though she still didn’t know where this was leading, she did know one thing with absolute certainty: her decision to accept his invitation had been the right one.
They walked quietly for some time, the silence broken only by the splashing water and the call of birds. When at last the stream widened into a small pool fed by a tiered waterfall, Cal paused and looked down at her.
“This is one of my favorite spots. The waterfall isn’t as dramatic as others in the park, so it gets fewer visitors. Usually I have the place to myself. Would you like to sit for a while?”
“Yes. It’s lovely here.”
Cal led her to a large, flat rock dappled by the sun. She sat and drew her knees up, wrapped her arms around them and sighed contentedly.
He chuckled as he joined her. “My sentiments exactly.”
She turned to look at him. He, too, was dressed in jeans that hugged his slim hips and outlined his muscular legs. The sleeves of his cotton shirt were rolled to the elbows, revealing an expanse of sun-browned forearm flecked with dark hair. As he leaned back, putting his palms on the rock behind him, his shirt stretched tautly across his broad chest. Amy swallowed and, with an effort, transferred her gaze to his face. He had closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sun, and she was struck again by the change in him since they’d arrived in the mountains. All evidence of strain had vanished, and he seemed completely happy and at ease—like this was where he belonged, she realized, inexplicably troubled by the thought.
He turned at that moment, and his eyebrows rose quizzically. “Why the frown?”
She dismissed his question with a shrug, unsure of the answer herself. “This place is good for you, you know.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You seem more…content here, I guess. And laid-back. In the city you always seem a little tense and on edge, like you never really relax.”
“I have a demanding job.”
“Yeah, I know all about demanding jobs,” she replied wryly.
“Yours seems particularly demanding. Not to mention dangerous.”
She shrugged. “Demanding,
always. Dangerous, rarely.”
“Forgive me if I can’t quite accept that. Not after this.” He leaned over and gently touched her head.
“That’s the exception, Cal. I’m not in this work to get killed. Trust me.”
“But you don’t hold back, either. Do you ever do anything halfway?”
She tipped her head and considered the question. “I’ve never thought of it quite that way before, but no, I guess not. I’m the type who does everything full-out—you know, the old ‘Anything worth doing is worth doing well’ philosophy. And I can’t just stand by when people are in trouble, either. That’s always been one of my weaknesses.”
“I’d hardly call it that.”
“It is in my business. We’re supposed to report stories—not become part of them.”
“Then maybe you’re in the wrong business.”
His quiet remark hit too close to home, but she forced herself to smile. “Well, if I switched careers you’d have one less reporter to hate,” she countered, striving for a light tone.
He looked at her, and the intensity of his gaze made her breath catch in her throat. “I was wrong to make such a sweeping generalization, Amy. And I was especially wrong about one particular reporter. In fact, hate is the last word that comes to mind when I think of you.”
The husky cadence and intimate tone of his voice, along with the sudden warmth in his eyes, scared her, and she glanced away nervously.
“I liked your grandmother’s shop,” she said with forced brightness. “Some of the things are so…”
The touch of his hand on her arm made the words stick in her throat.
“Amy.”
His voice was gentle but firm, and she drew a shaky breath. They’d been dodging this thing between them for too long, and Cal was finally facing it. But it took her several more moments to gather the courage to look at him. When she did, the tenderness in his eyes made her heart catch, then race on.