by Cate Masters
“Were you?” He recalled his own impolite remarks, not hers.
Her brows furrowed, and anger danced in her dark eyes. “Can’t you just accept my damn apology?”
Shit, he’d pissed her off again. “Fine, apology accepted. And I’m sorry too.”
“You have no need to be.” She hugged her knees as she sat beside him. “You’re not sleeping in the barn, are you?”
“It’s a bit crowded in the house.” And distracting. Especially when she softened her voice like that, and all sorts of things he shouldn’t think about sprung to mind.
“You’ll freeze out here by yourself.”
“I’m far from alone.” And with her beside him, the barn seemed a tad hot. “My furry companions keep me plenty warm.”
She petted the nearest huskies. “They are cozy.” Lars raised his head, blinked sleepily, and licked her hand, then rested his head in her lap.
“You have a real affinity for animals.” Though his team always responded to the clients’ attention enthusiastically, never had they been this relaxed with anyone.
She stroked Lars’s ears. “It’s great to spend time around them. Your dogs are wonderful.” She sighed. “And the reindeer are magical. Every kid should have the chance to visit with them.”
“Maybe more families will come after watching your show.” Was it his imagination, or was she making conversation so she didn’t have to leave?
“I hope so. This place is so peaceful.”
“Sometimes a bit too peaceful.” And isolated. It got downright lonely, something she probably had no clue how to handle.
“You’re lucky.”
Strange, not many would agree with her assessment. “So are you. You’re a globe trotter.”
Her shrug seemed half-hearted. “I used to love the constant travel. Now I’m tired of it. I don’t even get to enjoy most of the places we go. Being able to sit back and take in the view for a change seems a luxury. No rushing from one place to the next, and for what?” She shook her head, like she couldn’t answer her own question.
“You’ve accomplished a lot. You should be proud.”
“I guess.” She spoke low, almost in a whisper.
“It’s impressive. And so is your down-to-earth way with people.”
“I’m not good with people.” She sent him a shy glance. “Not like you.”
“Me?” Anyone surpassed him in the social arena. His dogs. Hell, even the reindeer.
“Yes, you,” she insisted. “How did you know to bring Britt-Marie the fabric and thread?”
“Easy. She has little access to those things. The Sami people rarely have money, rarely want it except when their kids beg for clothes or whatever trendy things their school friends have. Like most Sami people, Britt-Marie makes everything for her home and family. She sews clothes out of reindeer skins. They use every part of a reindeer, even the sinew for thread. It’s thick and hard to sew with. The store-bought kind is a treasure to her.” Now who was yapping? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone on and on about nothing.
“It was still nice of you to think of her.”
Nice of Melanie to notice, too. “I owe them a lot. They’re always good to me.”
“You’re lucky to have people who care about you so much.”
Is that why she’d come out here? Out of loneliness? “You have Gina and Victor and Hayden. Your crew loves you.” Especially Hayden. His stomach clenched.
She wrinkled her nose and traced the dog’s snout. “It’s different. We’re coworkers. They depend on the show for their salaries.”
Didn’t she have family? Other people close to her who loved her? Asking would overstep professional boundaries, so he didn’t. “You certainly inspired Isa today.”
She turned somber. “I hope she changes her mind before graduation. Or if she does travel, that she doesn’t stay away too long.”
There was that sadness again. Helplessness. Like she’d lost something and could never get it back. The dead boyfriend Kenny mentioned? “Too long for what?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m babbling.” She gently lifted the dog’s head and moved him to the straw, then suddenly rose.
More like avoiding the question. “Are you all right?”
She smiled at him, but her voice cracked when she said, “I’m fine.”
He stumbled to his feet. Wanted to hold her. Maybe it would help mend whatever broken pieces of herself remained, heal them so they wouldn’t cut into her. If what Ken said was true, the pain still haunted her.
She backed away. “I have to go. Sorry I bothered you.”
“No bother at all.” And you don’t have to go. He waited, keeping very still so as not to startle her.
She hesitated, studying him, then dropped her head. “Good night.” She hurried to the door faster than necessary.
Again, he’d upset her? He rushed after her. In her state, she might slip on the ice and hurt herself. At a minimum, he’d make sure she got safely to the house. When he cracked open the door and peered out, she’d stopped halfway there and was staring up. Above, faint swirls of blue wound through the sky.
Pretty, yes, but not worth freezing for. He was about to call out to her when she turned toward him. His heart twisted, an uncomfortable flip-flop. Cold on the bottom of his feet told him he’d stepped outside. Heading for her.
From the house, a shaft of golden light sliced across the yard, capturing her in its glow. “Melanie?”
Hayden. Asshole. If Buck disliked him before, he hated the guy that moment. Always interfering. Watching.
If she’d intended to come back to him, the audience of one dissuaded her. “I’m coming.” She waved to him and began walking, head still upturned. Before going inside, she stopped to swipe her cheeks.
Was she crying? What the hell was going on with her? God, I hope I didn’t upset her with a stupid comment again. He ran over the conversation in his head but couldn’t pinpoint one. Given her sadness during the conversation with Isa, it had to be something else. Something that ran much deeper.
Whatever troubled her, Video Boy gave zero shits—or had no clue—and so couldn’t heal her. Buck wanted to hold her a long time, long after she’d stopped crying. He stood for a few minutes to shake off the strange ache, but not even the aurora could lift him up out of his heavy thoughts.
Chapter 6
Abandoned. Pete had really and truly abandoned Melanie. If he hadn’t made his presence known to her under the northern lights, he never would again. Worry kept her tossing and turning throughout the night again, half waiting for him, half cursing him. You brought me here, Pete. Why?
While it was still dark, a noise startled her awake. Dammit, she’d finally gotten to sleep too. A small red dot bobbed along, about a man’s height. Hayden. With his damn camera already. “Go away.”
“Wakey wakey,” he said softly. “It’s almost eight-thirty.”
She jerked up on her elbows. “What?” No way. She always woke at six-thirty to work out, no matter the time zone.
Advancing toward her, his leg bumped the end of the bed and he switched on the camera spotlight. Blinding her. She shielded her eyes with her arm.
“Oh yes it is, sleepy head. Time for breakfast. Reindeer entrails on toast with jam. Yum.”
With a groan, she flopped back on the bed. “Shut up, you jerk.” If their lovely Sami hosts hadn’t heard his insult, she might let him off the hook with a warning. “I’ll be up in a second.” Or an hour. If only she could sleep in for once. Thank goodness today’s schedule would be a fairly easy one.
Easing closer, Hayden tsk’d. “Someone must be cold.”
Huh? Was he zooming the lens in on her boobs again? “Grow up.” The silk long underwear worked better under ski clothes. She’d packed a bunch for both sleeping and daytime because they were so, well, packable. With a huff, she gathered the covers around her as she sat up. “Seriously? Is it eight-thirty, Hay?”
<
br /> “Yep, and seriously time to eat.”
She raked her hair back from her face. “Did Buck come in from the barn yet?”
“Why?” Hayden lowered the camera and sat beside her. When his head bumped the edge of the upper bunk, he leaned forward.
“I don’t know.” What had made her ask? “I hate to throw off his schedule. We’d better get moving.” And she’d stop talking before she made a fool of herself. She stood to escape Hay’s focus, in or out of the camera’s viewfinder.
Hayden watched as she fumbled for her clothes. “What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing.” Blowing raspberries, she over-exaggerated a wince.
No reaction. No movement at all. “Why did you go to the barn last night?”
“To apologize. I was rude and unprofessional.” Great chance to segue from her to him. “Speaking of which. Let’s be more considerate of our hosts and our guide. No more verbal jabs. Got it?”
“Considerate how? Should I go tuck him in tonight?”
Aaand boomerang back to her. Ignore ignore ignore. “I was referring to manners. Politeness. Keeping your digs to yourself.”
“Why did you tell the kid you hate your job?” His rare sincerity almost seemed an act.
What the hell was up with him? “What? I didn’t.” She pulled on her jeans.
“Yes, you did.” Gina peered over the mattress from the top bunk, quilt atop her head. “I’d like to hear your answer, too.”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” She rummaged through her bag. “Where’s my sweater? Ah, there.”
“Yesterday,” Hayden said. “When she asked you about the show, and you basically told her if she ever had the same chance to run in the opposite direction.”
She popped on the sweater and reached for her boots, faking a laugh. “I love the way you paraphrase.”
“He’s right.” Gina dangled her legs from the top bunk. “You told her she shouldn’t travel.”
“Guys.” She shook her head. Drop the freaking subject already.
“Are you unhappy?” Hayden and candor made a strange mix.
To be fair, she had to give an honest response. “I consider myself extremely lucky.”
“See?” he asked Gina. “Total avoidance.”
Gina’s nod snuffed Melanie’s argument. “Yep. You’ve been off for a couple of months. What’s the deal?”
“Off?” Had they planned an ambush? Or had serendipity turned on her too?
“As in weird,” Hayden clarified. “Not yourself. Not out there giving sixty thousand percent like you always do, or did, before we arrived in Samiland.” He swept a hand wildly in the air.
“Like,” Gina added more softly, “your heart’s not in the job anymore.”
Hayden slapped his knee. “Why did we even come here? This place is unbelievably boring, too much of the same thing over and over. Snow, dogsleds, reindeer sleds. Viewers will hate this episode, if the editors don’t trash it first.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Then why did an icicle of pain just stab her heart?
“I could say the same about you. You’re ignoring what the audience wants. What they expect. You’ve done zero stunts since we got here. Nothing about this trip fits our style.” Hayden pierced her with a look. “It’s some sort of pilgrimage for you, isn’t it?”
“Hate to agree with Hay, but he’s right,” Gina said, “you’re definitely soul-searching.”
“Wow.” Melanie hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself, but her crew saw right through her. “Maybe I’m tired.” Of the whole routine—the endless traveling, the impersonal hotel rooms, the useless searching. For what? If she had a soul left, there wasn’t much there to search.
“So you’re quitting.” Hayden shook his head as if he needed no confirmation.
“No, I’d never leave you guys like that.”
“Like what?” Gina frowned. “Without warning?”
They’d turned too much focus on her, and she had no answers. Not even for herself. “I don’t even know how this conversation started. I’m barely awake, and we’re throwing around life-altering decisions. I need coffee.”
Hayden turned to Gina. “Told you. She’s in love with Dog Man.”
Whoa. “Stop it. What the hell’s gotten into you guys?”
Concern filled Gina’s face. “We want to know the same thing about you. Are you all right, Melanie?”
How could she explain about Pete? That she’d been chasing a ghost for three years, and apparently had chased him away for good? And how empty it made her feel? How useless? “Can we please go have a nice, quiet breakfast?”
Hayden stood. “Sure. Let’s pretend everything’s hunky dory.”
She shrugged. “Or appreciate the fact that it is.”
Victor leaned in from the doorway. “What’s the holdup? Breakfast time, man.”
She could have kissed Vic. “Great. I’m starving.” She ignored the skeptical glance Hayden and Gina exchanged.
“Hungry again?” Hayden scrutinized her belly. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
What? “I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing.”
Hayden grunted. “Yeah, we’ve only been here a few days.”
“Were you guys up late partying again? Because you’re definitely hallucinating.” And she was about to hyperventilate. Why did everyone keep talking about babies? After she and Pete were engaged, they used to talk about having kids, and how many, and what each child might grow up like, but the idea hadn’t entered her mind since his death. Not until Britt-Marie’s comment yesterday.
Gina yawned. “No and nope.”
God, Melanie needed a change of subject. Now. “Need some help getting down from there, Gina?”
She waved them on. “You guys go. I’ll be right there.”
Terrific. Two Gloomy Guses. At least they hadn’t gotten to Vic yet. As he passed, she gave him her best perky smile, the most she could manage pre-coffee. “Oh, what a wonderful smell.” Wherever they got their coffee, she had to buy a crate of the stuff.
Buck went silent and stared at her. She tried to smile at him too, but the effort froze on her lips.
“Good morning.” Britt-Marie hunched over the hearth. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mm hm.” For about ten minutes. “Can I help you with anything?”
The hostess smiled. “Not a thing. Coffee’s ready. Please have some.”
Melanie took cups down from the pegs over the counter. “Love to, thanks. Your coffee’s delicious.”
Britt-Marie wiped her hands on her apron. “The coffee press makes the difference.”
“Yes.” Why did Buck still stare at her? “I’m going to buy one before I leave.”
At that, Buck’s chest expanded and he turned away.
Right. Today’s Day Three of six. It’s going too fast. Flying back—to where? She had no clue—didn’t thrill her either. “Sorry to get up so late,” she said to Buck as Gina shuffled in from the bedroom.
“No problem. Today’s schedule’s pretty loose.”
She nodded. “The Sami village, then the Vakkara Wilderness Lodge.”
“Yes.” He sipped from his mug, staring off at nothing.
Goodness, now Buck had caught the Gloomy Gus Syndrome. To lighten the mood, she teased Hayden. “I hear the lodge has a wonderful sauna. Bet you’re the first to try out the steam room.”
After barely a grunt, Hayden slurped coffee.
I refuse to be infected. “My muscles are looking forward to it.” She smiled into Vic’s lens.
Britt-Marie bustled behind them and set heaping platters on the table. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Hay’s earlier comment twisted Melanie’s stomach. “Oh, yes.” She waited for Gina, Hayden, and Victor to grab plates and utensils from the counter and sit.
Buck gestured her forward. “After you.”
Flutters swarmed inside her, a tiny
whirlwind. Her imagination? Or was he acting weird this morning? She shouldn’t have gone to the barn last night. She might’ve given him the wrong impression, along with everyone else. “Ah, manners. Would you teach some to my crew please?”
Her belly lurched again when he smiled that damn half-smile. Another reminder of Pete she didn’t need this morning.
“If they haven’t learned by now, nothing I can say will matter.”
“Right.” Yikes who just whispered that? Marilyn Monroe? Where did her breathy tone come from?
As she approached the table, Hayden snapped his gaze up at her, his jaw locked mid-chew. When his eyes narrowed, she glared a don’t you dare say a word look. She climbed onto the bench beside him and finally caught sight of the breakfast Britt-Marie had laid out. “Pancakes.” What a relief, though she’d known Hayden’s earlier remark had no truth to it. She speared a few onto her plate.
Buck plunked his cup down opposite her and sat.
Hayden twirled his fork in his hand. “So. Buck.” He spoke sharply, though he jawed his food.
Uh oh. What’s he up to? He didn’t usually strike up casual conversations.
Buck arched a brow. “Hayden.”
Hay’s smile had a meanness about it. “What do you do when you’re not guiding people through the wilderness? I mean, you can’t get a ton of clients way up at the top of the world. Especially with National Geographic providing the same tours, or better.”
Buck’s stare remained free of emotion. “True, Arctic Adventures doesn’t have the same resources as the more high-end tours. Most of our clients prefer everything scaled down.”
Hayden swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. “They like to slum it, you mean.”
If anything, Buck grew more pleasant. “You could hardly call this slumming.”
Time to run interference. Again. “I’d much rather stay with these lovely people than an impersonal conglomerate that cared only about money.”
Hayden turned to her. “Play with reindeer instead of snowboard off the face of the mountain?” He searched her face as if he had no idea who she’d become.
Buck shifted on the bench. With his shoulders squared and elbows pressed hard against the table, he looked ready to pounce. “Reindeer herding requires endurance. Intelligence. It’s a valued way of life for the Sami people.” Like his tone, his expression warned Hayden to back off.