by Jane Toombs
“She is, isn’t she?” Dan said, smiling down at Marie.
Megan glanced at Fay, who shrugged.
Turning to look at Fay, Dan said, “I’m going to pick up that list of supplies we wrote down before leaving the cabin. Why don’t you catch a nap while I’m gone?”
After he left, Megan said, “I still think you should stay here. Don’t you find the cabin pretty rustic?”
“It’s been fine,” Fay said vaguely, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to argue with you when I can see you need to rest. I think you’ve been good for Dan. You know he was the middle boy.”
“Middle boy?” Fay echoed, not understanding her meaning.
“You know, Will was the oldest, Bruce the youngest, so each got some special attention that the middle child misses. Will was Dad’s favorite ’til I came along and Bruce was our mother’s. I guess you could say Dan was never anyone’s favorite. Am I making sense? All my brothers tell me I talk too much and they may be right.”
Fay smiled at her. “I’m not your brothers.”
“Well, what I meant was that Dan got to do something really special when he delivered your baby.”
“As a policeman, he’s done that before.”
“Not under the same circumstances. And he certainly never had to take care of a baby before. I can’t believe how good he is with little Marie. I’m seeing a whole new side of him. One I like.”
In Fay’s book, winding up on Dan’s doorstep in a snowstorm to disrupt his life as completely as she had could hardly be classified as being good for him. “He’s been very patient,” she said. “Patient and kind.”
“The brother I know didn’t have a patient bone in his body,” Megan countered. “As for kind, the less said the better. What I am saying is that what happened changed him. For the better, as far as I’m concerned.” She shook her head. “All this talk isn’t letting you get any rest. If you need anything, just call. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Left alone with the sleeping baby, Fay tried, not too successfully, to fit Megan’s words into her own picture of Dan. He’d been more than patient with her and the baby, so it was hard to imagine him any other way. At least Megan seemed to like her and even approve of her. Unlike Doctor Bruce, Megan hadn’t acted upset that Dan had offered to help with the baby while Fay recuperated for a few more weeks at the cabin. All Megan had objected to was the cabin itself, offering the house as a more appropriate place.
Fay thought drowsily that, comfortable as it was, she didn’t want to be in this house for a month; she wanted to be back in the cabin. Somehow, it felt like home. And, besides, as Dan had pointed out, she’d be alone a lot of time here, while Dan would be right with her at the cabin, ready to help.
Or was it that she’d come to depend on him? The thought made her blink. Too much? She hoped not. She could already see that if she were to stay in this house, the times when Megan wasn’t working, she’d be, as Dan had put it, “mothering” her. Fay liked Megan, but she didn’t want to be mothered.
Dan seemed to sense when she needed to talk and when she didn’t. They were used to each other. And the baby, too, was accustomed to the way he handled her. She might not take to Megan right away. Marie had already cried when Megan held her.
Fay sighed. Why was she bothering to conjure up so many reasons for not staying in town with Megan? What she wanted to do was go with Dan to the cabin—reasons be damned—and that’s what she meant to do. Their time together was short enough as it was.
That last thought troubled her, but she was too sleepy at the moment to examine it and find out why.
Chapter Five
The next morning, when she woke, Fay sat up and looked around the cabin with new interest. Discovering she had a specific reason for her abnormal tiredness, a reason that would soon clear up, had eased her mind.
Next to the couch, Danny Marie was sleeping peacefully in the cradle Dan’s grandfather had made. Flames flickered yellow and blue nearby in the fireplace and the sun streaming in the windows suggested that soon there would be no need to keep the fire lit for long.
She glanced up at the loft, where she knew the cabin’s only bedroom was, but the blanket folded neatly over the arm of the Morris chair told her Dan was still sleeping there nights rather than in his bed in the loft. Maybe now, with the cradle so close to where she slept on the couch, she could manage to nurse and change the baby when she cried during the night, and Dan could sleep in his bed once again.
Where was he now, she wondered. She padded to a window and looked out, the sunlight warm and welcome on her head and shoulders. She saw him crouched near a tree, apparently removing something attached to it. He wore no jacket, his red sweatshirt a brilliant spot of color in the predominately evergreen landscape. She realized as she stood there watching, how much she enjoyed looking at him. Working. Sitting. Holding Danny Marie.
Granted, there was more to a man than broad shoulders, great buns and Viking good looks, but all that was an attractive plus. She wondered how it would feel to have those hands gently touching her. Not in the same way he held the baby, of course, but in a more urgent, adult wanting…
As if sensing her gaze, he looked up and saw her in the window. She flushed, as if he could see what she’d been thinking. Then she waved; he waved back and jogged toward the cabin.
In a long, old-fashioned, flowered flannel nightgown that Megan had given her, Fay decided she was more than decently covered and so she waited for him to come inside.
“New wardrobe,” he commented.
“Not exactly. Megan said it came out of your grandmother’s cedar chest in the attic.”
“Looks warm, but I don’t think it’s really you.” He grinned at her. “I sort of liked you in my grandpa’s old pajama shirt.”
“The Sorensons have certainly clothed, fed and waited on me. I owe you all big time.”
“You’d have done the same for any of us had we needed help.”
Would she have? Fay thought of her all-too-busy schedule before the baby was born and wondered if she’d have been able to interrupt it long enough to try to take care of anyone. When you were aiming for the top, there was seldom if ever any time to spare.
“I’ll have breakfast on the table by the time you’re dressed,” he told her.
“I could help.”
He shook his head. “Wait ’til you get some pink back in your cheeks.”
As she toweled herself off in the bathroom after her shower, Fay checked her mirror image and sighed. Her face still looked pale and drawn.
She suddenly remembered Bruce’s measuring look when he realized Dan intended to bring her back to the cabin. Had Bruce warned him that she might be out to trap a husband? Surely Dan wouldn’t take his brother seriously. Hadn’t she told him she had no intention of getting married? Whatever he thought, best not to put on much makeup at the moment. Still, she found herself taking extra pains with her hair.
At breakfast she asked him, “What were you doing out there?”
“Removing my target so I can set it up farther away from the house when I practice shooting. Can’t afford to get rusty just ’cause I’m on leave, but I didn’t want the noise to disturb you or the baby.”
“You have your gun here at the cabin?”
He nodded toward the loft. “It’s always with me.”
No doubt a cop thing. She could hardly blame them since their lives might well depend on their gun. And how well they could shoot it.
“During the storm it didn’t occur to me there had to be wildlife in these woods. Anything dangerous?” she asked.
“Not really. Maybe a mother bear if you get between her and her cubs.”
Fay glanced toward a window. “You’ve got bears out here? And I’ve heard the U.P. has wolves. Is that true?”
“Quite a few packs now. Also coyotes, moose, deer, fox, bobcats, fisher and porcupine. None of them bother humans, usually. Though if you come upon a porcupine, be
tter detour around him ’cause he has no intention of getting out of your way.”
“Any chance of running into a mother bear with cubs when I feel strong enough to take a walk in the woods?”
“Pretty remote. Black bears are not very aggressive unless cornered. She’d hear us or smell us a long time before we saw her and she’d herd the kids away from possible danger. The most we’d probably run across is a chipmunk or two and a few chickadees. I tried on that pouch thing you brought along and it fits me, so I can carry Peanut in it instead of you taking on the extra strain.”
“Sounds good to me.”
That night, with the baby peacefully asleep in the cradle, Fay had said good-night to Dan and had curled up on the couch when, from outside, she heard something. What was it? The sound rose and fell, eerie, compelling.
“What’s that?” she asked in a half whisper, even though, somehow, she knew.
“Wolves.” Dan answered from the foot of the stairs, then crossed to the windows. “They sound close. Come look, we may see them.”
By the time Fay joined him at the front windows, the wolf chorus had died. The moon was up, waxing toward full, its silver light outlining the darkness of the pines. So swiftly she could hardly trust her eyes, an animal slipped into the moonlight, then another and another until there were five in all. They loped across the front of the house only to disappear again into the trees.
“Wolves,” she whispered. “Those were real wolves.”
Dan placed his arm over her shoulders. “A wolf pack,” he agreed, awe in his voice. “I’ve heard them before, but this is my first sighting.”
Fay, feeling they’d shared something magical, sighed as she stared into the moonlit night. “I’ll never forget it.”
She looked up at him and saw, in the dim glow of the fire, his gaze fixed on her instead of focused on what was outside.
“Unforgettable,” he agreed.
For a faint instant, she held her breath, thinking he might kiss her. Before she could decide whether she wanted him to or not, he dropped his arm from her shoulders and turned away, saying, “Good night again.”
She watched him head for the stairs, wondering what she’d have felt if he had kissed her.
By the following week, the beautiful weather still holding, Fay decided she was ready for a short walk outside. With Danny Marie bundled into a blanket in the baby pouch Dan wore, they set off. Though the breeze was cool, the warmth of the sun countered it until they came under the canopy of the tall white pines. In the shade, Fay was glad of her jacket. No snow remained near the cabin, but patches shone white here and there among the trees.
“It’s May,” she said. “Down in Archer, there’ll be new spring leaves on the trees and the lilacs will be coming into bloom. I noticed when we were in town that the trees barely have any leaves.”
“Spring in the Upper Peninsula is always a month behind.” He took a deep breath. “What we’ve got lots of is fresh air.”
A chipmunk raced across in front of them. Fay tested the air, realizing it smelled faintly, but pleasantly of pine and forest duff. How long had it been since she’d taken a walk in the woods? Any woods? She really couldn’t count those hurried weekend ski trips to one resort or another.
How quiet it was, the only sounds the crunch of their feet on the brown pine needles, the soughing of the wind in the branches high above and the occasional call of a chickadee. It seemed that she and Dan and the baby were the only ones on the planet.
She wondered where the wolves had gone. Dan had assured her the pack offered no danger to them and that the wolves took care to avoid humans. Seeing them that night had been a wonderful fluke.
She hadn’t noticed that they circled back until she heard the sound of an engine and caught a glimpse of the cabin through the trees.
“Megan’s car.” He sounded resigned. “I knew she’d be out here sooner or later.”
“I like your sister,” she said.
“So do I, but she—” He paused as though searching for the right words. “She always seems to complicate things.”
“It’ll be a nice change to have company.”
He glanced sharply, saw her smiling at him, and gave her a reluctant grin. “Wouldn’t want you getting cabin fever.”
“That won’t happen until my cheeks are as pink as wild roses. Then look out. At my best I have more energy than you can imagine.”
“I can’t wait.”
What did that look in his eyes mean? Surely not lust. Her appearance right now wasn’t likely to inspire that. Besides, Dan had never given the slightest indication he was interested in her in that way. If she didn’t count the night they’d seen the wolves…
As they emerged from the trees, Megan spotted them and called out a greeting.
Before they entered the cabin, Megan said, “I saw the phone company truck parked on the highway near your driveway.”
“About time,” Dan muttered. “I’ll head down and see what’s going on.”
He lifted the baby out of the pouch and handed her to Fay.
Inside, Danny Marie began to fuss when Fay settled her in the cradle.
“Go ahead, take off your jacket,” Megan said. “I’ll rock the cradle.”
By the time Fay was ready to sit on the couch, the baby had quieted. “Would you like a cup of tea? Coffee?”
“Nothing, thanks. I just dropped by to see how you were doing. I’ll be glad when the cabin phone is fixed so I can call to see if you need anything.”
She gestured toward the picnic basket she’d brought. “I made a casserole and some brownies for you and Dan.”
“Thanks, that’s great. I’m doing better, but Dan won’t let me cook yet. He’s a pretty good one, but his dishes are limited.”
“He’s a stubborn Sorenson, like all the males in the family. There I was rattling around in that big house in town, perfectly willing to help him recover, but he insisted he’d do better on his own and came out here to the cabin. He’s still limping, isn’t he?”
“A little, though it doesn’t seem to bother him much. In fact, I’d think they’d want him to return to duty soon.”
“He’s on administrative leave. They won’t call him back until the investigative committee decides it was okay for Dan to have killed the drug lord who shot him in the leg first.” Her tone was scornful. “I mean, you’re a cop, someone shoots you, you shoot back. Makes sense to me.”
“Me, too, but I suppose it’s a regulation to investigate all shootings.”
“That’s what Dan said. The Archer paper wrote him up as a hero, which he really was. They’d been trying to nail that scumbag for over a year.”
Fay wondered how she’d missed all that. Not that she read the local paper regularly. “I guess you could say Dan’s my hero, too. Mine and the baby’s. We owe our lives to him.”
Megan nodded. “So I should quit complaining. It really was a good thing he did insist on staying out here. I’ve been hoping he’d find someone who wasn’t like Jean, someone who—”
Fay held up her hand. “That’s not me. Dan tells me he’ll never marry again and I believe him. In any case, I’m not interested in getting married, either. Or, at the moment, in anything except friendship with any man.”
“It’s just that Dan acts besotted with your baby.”
Fay laughed. “I think so, too. But, believe me, it doesn’t follow that he feels that way about the mother. And, as I said, I’m grateful, but that doesn’t translate into anything like, well, love, or any type of commitment.”
“I didn’t mean to be offensive,” Megan said, then sighed. “I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic, like my brother Bruce is always telling me when I turn some guy down who wants to marry me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with waiting for a man you can love.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever find a man I want to marry.” Engrossed in the conversation, Fay hadn’t heard the shed door open. Appar
ently Megan hadn’t either, because she looked as startled as Fay felt when Dan said, “Now that’s what I call a smart woman.” He grinned at them as he hung his jacket on a peg.
“I have to be running along,” Megan said, rising. “I promised to help with the museum’s bake sale. You’re in luck, big brother, I brought supper so you don’t have to cook tonight.”
Dan gave his sister a quick hug. “I knew there had to be some reason you were born,” he told her. “Thanks.”
As she watched Megan leave, Fay felt a familiar pang, one she’d experienced before when siblings showed their affection for one another. Being an only child might have certain benefits, but it could also be lonely.
“They told me the phone’ll be working before dark,” Dan said, taking a look inside the basket. “Mmm, brownies. Want one?” He offered her the pan.
Megan had already cut them into squares and the chocolate aroma was too tempting to resist. Fay took one.
So did Dan. He put the pan back and eased down on the couch next to her. “Megan’s a good cook,” he said after the first mouthful. “Guys are always asking her to marry them.”
“But she never does because she hasn’t yet fallen in love. Anyway, who wants to marry a man who loves your cooking more than you?” She bit into the brownie and rolled her eyes in appreciation.
“Didn’t I just hear you say you may never find a man who suits you?”
“Something of the sort, but you already knew that.”
“You’ve got the baby now.”
“So?”
“She’ll need a father.”
Fay stared at him. “You certainly can’t be saying you expect me to marry some guy so she can have a father figure in her life.”
“Not exactly, but—”
“Come off it, Sergeant. That may not be the worst excuse for getting married that I ever heard, but it ranks pretty close to ‘He needs me.’ A friend of mine married a guy she decided really needed her and then found out what he’d actually been looking for was a replacement for good old mom, who’d always done everything for him. Needless to say—splitsville.”