Snowstorm Confessions

by Rachel Lee

* * *

  Luke felt the tears dampen his sweatshirt and felt a sympathetic pain for her that was so deep his chest ached with it. He’d seen the toll her job sometimes took on her, but never to the degree she showed him tonight.

  He cursed his lack of imagination, cursed his unfamiliarity with the kind of trauma she faced. He’d never known how bad it was, would probably never know. He certainly hadn’t known how to help her, and holding her like this seemed almost ridiculously useless.

  The helpless feeling was all too familiar to him. So much time spent, especially toward the end, wondering what was wrong and how he could fix it. Now here he was again. This time he had some idea of what troubled her, but absolutely no way to fix it. He couldn’t erase what she had dealt with tonight, couldn’t ease the anguish and terror she had seen. There was no bandage for this one.

  God, what was he thinking? Getting involved again with the one woman on earth he had loved beyond all reason only to discover there was no way possible to make her happy?

  Although, she had talked to him tonight, however minimally. She’d expressed her anguish, a little bit, and told him something about how it all affected her. That was a step forward, he supposed. But still, as she had said more than once, they couldn’t recover what they had once had. Together they had managed to trash it all beyond hope.

  But moving forward? Even if they could, was he willing to take the risk again? No easy answers came to him. The only thing he was sure of was that a repeat of their marriage was totally off the table.

  But being this close to her, smelling her familiar scents, tinged with the hospital, felt so good. Having her close always aroused him, and tonight was no different. He’d never responded sexually to a woman the way he responded to this one. That much was inescapable.

  He could have turned her right then and found some awkward way to make love to her. Not even his injuries could impede him, he was sure. The world would spin away for both of them as it always had, and they’d climb to the pinnacle together, sweaty, aching, needing, until they found heaven in each other’s arms.

  He was so tempted. His entire body flexed as if he were about to do it. He squeezed his eyes shut and battered down the hunger. Bad time. Big risk.

  It could only end wrongly. So he controlled himself and waited for the urges to pass. They seemed to want to linger, but he ignored them as best he could.

  No future in it, he told himself. None whatsoever.

  The realization increased the sorrow that had never departed since their breakup. She’d left a hole in his life that he sometimes thought would never be filled.

  Man up, he told himself, deal with it.

  But in the night, that seemed like an awfully tall order.

  * * *

  Bri’s cell phone chirped at 6:15 a.m. She nearly groaned. Sleep had felt so good and she didn’t want to give it up, but duty called.

  As she started to slip out of the bed, she felt Luke’s arm tighten around her waist.

  “I have to go, Luke.”

  “I know. Sorry.”

  She knew exactly what he meant. In her drowsy state, with her barriers down, she wanted to turn to him and take advantage of the moment. To make love with him again. God, it sounded like heaven.

  But instead she eased out of the bed. “Will you be okay?”

  “I’m fine. I can get coffee and cereal all on my own now.”

  “Watch it with those crutches.”

  “I will.”

  She hurried toward her bathroom, grabbing some clothes on the way, and hit the shower, making it fast. People were depending on her to show up, and every one of them was as exhausted as she felt, some even more so.

  When she emerged dressed, her hair towel-dried and clasped to the back of her head, she smelled the coffee. Luke sat at the table in his wheelchair, eating cereal. She grabbed some coffee in a travel mug.

  “You need to eat,” he said.

  “No time. I’ll grab something at the hospital.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “Maybe four hours. I can’t say for sure, but I don’t have a full shift today. I doubt many do. We’ll probably be part-timing it until we’re all caught up.”

  “Take it easy.”

  She waved, then grabbed her parka and boots. Time to go. As she drove down the street, she wondered if that was Jack she glimpsed in the rearview mirror. Then she shrugged it off and turned toward the hospital. The load would still be heavy this morning. Patients coming out of surgery, others clinging by a thread. No time or energy to waste on anything else.

  But it sure would have been nice to snuggle in with Luke.

  Bad thought, she scolded herself. No good lay that way, a lesson she had learned painfully. She needed to get her head screwed on straight before she made a huge mistake.

  * * *

  Jack had seen. He’d known about the accident last night, and he had worried about Bri, so he’d hung around until she got home safely. Then he’d seen her lie in bed with Luke.

  A furious hammering had begun in his temple and remained. He knew they hadn’t done anything, but still. It was a bad sign that she was turning to him for comfort, even the small comfort of a hug.

  He wanted her to turn to him. He’d been patient for so long now he sometimes thought he couldn’t be patient any longer.

  But Bri was special. He didn’t want to do anything too soon, didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. He had to find just the right moment.

  But since Luke’s return, that moment seemed to be slipping away. The guy was no threat, not physically, but given where he was living now, taking action against him was out of the question.

  Which left Jack only one surety. If she turned back to Luke, he would not let Luke have her. She was Jack’s, and he’d do whatever was necessary to keep her.

  Even if it meant no one could have her at all.

  That particular line of thought always disturbed him. He didn’t want to hurt Bri. He didn’t want to kill her. But he sure wasn’t going to let anyone else have her.

  There had to be another way. There had to be. He just had to find it. But lately, everything seemed to be getting messed up. Royally messed up.

  Damn, he wished Luke had never come to town. Then his original plan to steadily get closer to Bri and gain both her interest and trust would have worked.

  Instead everything was speeding up. And he was beginning to feel he was losing control of it all.

  Chapter 10

  Luke came home from rehab feeling pretty much like a wrung-out rag. They’d worked him hard; not just his knee, arm and feet, but all of him to counterbalance his inactivity.

  It appalled him to be so easily tired, but there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. It was what it was. One of the hardest things to accept in life, that you couldn’t just wave a wand and make it all better.

  Shortly after Tim and Ted deposited him at home, Jack appeared. Luke was beginning to loath the sight of that scrawny young man, and more, he was beginning to think the guy looked shifty. He forced down his feelings, reminding himself they might be unjustified.

  The late-afternoon sun was golden, but the snow was a long way from disappearing. Luke wheeled himself to the door and managed to open it.

  “Hi,” Jack said. “You still want that ramp?”

  Luke managed a smile. “Absolutely. I’m starting to feel like a caged tiger.”

  Jack’s responding smile was weak. “I guess so. I brought all the stuff, so I’ll just get started on it.”

  “Mind if I watch?”

  Jack seemed to hesitate. “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to sit there wishing I were helping. Self-torture.”

  At that, Jack actually laughed, although it sounded uncertain. “You do a lot of carpentry?”

  “Usually on big projects, but I like to get my nail gun in on the action from time to time. So if you don’t mind?”

  Jack hesitated, then shrugged. “Why would I mind?”

  “I�
��ll be out as soon as I get my jacket.”

  “Okay. I’m going to unload my truck.”

  Luke sat watching him for a few moments before wheeling around to grab his jacket. There was something off about that guy, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

  Maybe it was just jealousy, Luke thought as he crammed his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. Maybe Luke was just jealous that Bri seemed to like Jack, even if it wasn’t in that way. How stupid could he get?

  Plenty, he decided. The last few nights Bri had slept in her own bed and he’d lain awake for hours, wishing she were beside him. Wasted time, wasted sleep, but he might as well face it. If it weren’t for the job he was fighting to keep, he’d have been smart to get on the next bus or plane out of here.

  Because trouble was brewing. He could feel it all the way to his soul. Whether the trouble was within him or external he could no longer tell. All he knew was that his instincts were gearing up, sensing impending dangers. Maybe it was a result of his concussion, though. How would he know?

  Other than the fact that someone had tried to kill him, he was actually feeling pretty safe, physically. Here in town was a whole different situation from standing up on that isolated crag looking down a valley toward a dot that had been Mike.

  Maybe he’d just had a run-in with some crazed hermit who didn’t want anyone on his mountain.

  So why this sense of impending doom?

  He wheeled out onto the porch at last, picking the side away from the plywood and two-by-fours that Jack was laying out on the other side.

  “Good materials,” he remarked.

  “Only the best for Bri.”

  At that Luke’s hackles rose, but he ignored it. Whatever it was about this guy, he seemed determined to please Bri. That was the beginning and end of it, right?

  The world still bore a heavy blanket of white, although the drifts that had looked chunky after they’d been shoveled off of roofs had melted into softer mounds.

  “This snowstorm was unusual, I take it?” he said, trying to make conversation with Jack.

  “We should be enjoying spring about now,” came the answer. No elucidation. Not a very talkative guy.

  So Luke joined the conspiracy of silence Jack evidently wanted. It was not too maddening to just sit and watch. Better than being inside trying to amuse himself with a book or TV.

  Jack was very businesslike as he measured the length of the ramp and its angle. Equally businesslike as he measured the wood and marked it with a carpenter’s pencil. The guy knew what he was doing.

  Finally Luke broke the silence. “You do a lot of carpentry?”

  “Here and there.” Short response.

  “You’re good. I could use someone like you at the job site when we start construction.”

  Jack paused, pencil behind his ear, two-by-four under his arm. “Yeah. I do pretty good at the hardware store and picking up odd jobs. Hate to lose something steady for something temporary.”

  “That’s a point. Thing is, we often need carpenters year-round. You’d be amazed how much damage guests can do. Not to mention the cold and other stuff. Regardless, we pay union wages. Think about it. We can talk details if you’re interested.”

  Then Luke sat there wondering what the hell he was thinking. The guy was indeed a capable carpenter, at least at this level. But offering him a job? Was that a reaction to feeling guilty for his instant dislike for no real reason? A sop to a conscience riddled with guilt?

  Well, at least it was a change of pace for his confused head. Between Bri and the concussion, he wouldn’t have bet money on the soundness of his mental functioning. That woman was driving him crazy.

  He itched to help Jack carry the table saw up to the porch, but the man didn’t seem to have a bit of trouble with it. Thin though he appeared, there was surprising strength in that gangly body.

  “You own all your own tools?” he asked as he watched Jack hunt for the electrical outlet outside.

  “Nah. Shop lends them to me. I’m good for business.”

  “I bet you are.”

  Again silence fell until the saw began its keening, followed by raspier sounds, and the two-by-fours slid through the blade.

  Then came the explosive sound of the nail gun as Jack began to put the frame together for the ramp. Much as Luke didn’t want to think nice things about Jack, the fact remained: the guy knew what he was doing.

  “Coffee?” Luke asked.

  “Sure. Black.”

  So Luke angled his way back into the house and started another pot. That much hadn’t changed. He and Bri had always had a pot of coffee at hand, like two addicts. When it finished, he called Jack to the door.

  “Sorry, I can’t carry the mugs myself. This chair needs a table.”

  Jack mounted the steps between the frame he’d finished building. “I could make you a table for that.”

  “I may take you up on it. Of course, inside I’m still using the hospital table, so I guess it’s not really necessary unless I want to carry something like this.”

  He followed Jack into the kitchen and insisted on getting the coffee himself.

  “You and Bri were married,” Jack said.

  The statement came sideways at Luke. He simply hadn’t expected it. “Long ago,” he said carefully.

  “Must’ve hurt, losing her.”

  Luke didn’t answer. He didn’t care how much Bri liked this guy, it wasn’t his place—or even his desire—to share personal information with Jack.

  Jack carried both mugs outside, handed one to Luke, then got back to work on the ramp without another word. He finished it in quick order, even placing slats to slow the wheelchair down on descent.

  “There you go,” Jack said when he finished. “Wanna try it?”

  “I think Bri would kill me if I tried it when she wasn’t here. It looks great, though.” He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet so he could pay Jack. Jack took the money without counting it and shoved it into his jeans pocket.

  “I’m not painting it because it won’t be here for long. It’ll hold long enough.”

  “I’m sure it will. You did a good job.”

  One corner of Jack’s mouth lifted. “You better get back inside now.”

  Luke tensed. “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to knock down some icicles. Wouldn’t want somebody to get hurt.”

  Luke looked along the eaves and saw that he was right. Any number of icicles that had grown through the thaw-freeze cycle since the snowstorm looked as if they could kill a grown man.

  Again the frustration overcame him. He ought to be able to do that. God, he hated this enforced helplessness. “Thanks,” he said at last, and turned to do as he was told. Jack put both empty coffee mugs in his lap.

  He put them in the kitchen by the sink, then went to the front window to watch Jack knock down the icicles. It was a dangerous job, and Jack kept his distance by using a two-by-four. Still, the sight of those icy teeth hitting the snow, or shattering against the porch railing, made the danger clear.

  He hated to admit that it had been good of Jack to think of that. It hadn’t even crossed his own mind. Which brought him back to wondering if his head was back to 100 percent or not.

  He was inclined to think not.

  * * *

  Spring twilight and the mountain of snow didn’t seem to go together very well, Bri thought as she drove home after her shift. The light was all wrong for a world that seemed to scream winter despite the late hour of the day. Weird. Her brain seemed to be noticing the conflicting cues and trying to organize them somehow.

  Or maybe she was just tired. Twelve-hour shifts had a way of doing that, and they still had a number of accident victims who, while improving, needed a lot of care.

  Her knee, which rarely gave her trouble on an ordinary day, was hammering at her tonight. Her back ached, too, something she wasn’t used to. She must have been walking funny because of her knee.

  Pulling into the d
riveway, she saw that Jack had built the ramp. It looked odd, all that fresh wood in front of a house badly in need of paint, but she was glad to see it. Once the thaw quit icing over the sidewalks, Luke could get out and get around.

  Then she noticed that all the icicles were gone as well. Jack must have read her mind, because she’d been thinking only that morning that they were growing to a dangerous size.

  One of these days she ought to cook the man a dinner to express her gratitude for the numerous ways he looked after her. But as soon as she had the thought, a chill seemed to creep through her. Jack was her handyman. She didn’t want him to think he’d become personally important to her.

  Then she realized she wouldn’t have given it a second thought if only Luke hadn’t mentioned that he thought Jack was sweet on her.

  Dang. Really? Was she going to let Luke warp her? But wasn’t he already warping her? He’d shown her that she had a major hang-up. Okay, that was justified. But passing judgment on the people she knew?

  Worse, she was thinking about Luke a million times a day now. He’d almost vanished from her thoughts until he had show up at her door, but now he was firmly camped in her head again.

  Maybe he’d even reclaimed a small bit of her heart.

  God, no! One epic disaster had been enough. She’d have to be a fool to set herself up for another.

  She walked around to the back door to enter by the mudroom. She saw that Jack had been busy here, too. The icicles were gone, the steps and small porch carefully salted.

  The oddest feeling came over her. She should be thinking how nice Jack was, how kind of him to do all this, but instead she felt a chill run along her spine. He hadn’t done this much before Luke’s arrival. He’d been friendly and glad to take any kind of job she had, but he hadn’t gone over the top like this.

  This felt almost...smothering. Claiming. As if he were treating her property as his. She didn’t like it, kindness or not. It felt like encroachment.

  Unless Luke had paid him to do all of this?

  The uncomfortable feeling remained, however, following her inside as she ditched her outerwear. In the kitchen she grabbed the inevitable cup of coffee and an ice pack for her knee before she headed for the living room to see how Luke was doing.