Awakening Alex

by Ruth Langan

  He watched as the door closed behind her. Then he grinned as he bent to his cereal.

  By the time Grant finished breakfast and made his way outside, Alex was standing on a ladder, a chainsaw in her hand. While he watched she cut through a tree limb, sending it crashing to the ground. Minutes later she dropped a second branch, before descending the ladder.

  While she dragged the ladder to another tree, Lem began hauling the branches toward the side of the lodge.

  “What’ll you do with these?” Grant asked.

  “Firewood.” The old man pointed to a pile of logs neatly stacked against the wall.

  “You sure you need more?”

  Lem nodded. “Alex’ll go through a couple cords this winter.”

  “Okay.” Grant picked up a long-handled ax, testing its weight. “I’ll handle these. That way you can give Alex a hand over there.”

  The old man grunted his approval and walked away.

  It was several hours later before Alex and Lem put away the ladder and saw and began cleaning up the debris. The sudden silence was punctuated with the sound of an ax biting into wood. Alex was surprised to see Grant working his way through a mountain of firewood. On his face was a look of extreme concentration, as though the logs were his enemies and he was deriving a great deal of satisfaction out of destroying them slowly, piece by piece.

  She walked closer. He’d removed his parka and rolled the sleeves of his flannel shirt. As he lifted the ax high over his head, then brought it down to bite cleanly through another log, she felt her throat go dry at the ripple of muscles.

  “I’m glad to see you enjoy chopping wood.”

  His head came up. For the space of a moment he merely stared at her with eyes that were so hot and fierce, she found herself taking a step back. Then he blinked, and she wondered if she’d only imagined that look.

  He managed a smile. “This is a great workout. Better than a gym.”

  She relaxed. “Well, I’m glad to hear you say that. Then you won’t mind spending the rest of the week cutting up these logs into firewood?”

  “I might be interested. What’s it worth to you, Ms. Sullivan?”

  “You want payment?” She thought a moment. “How about a tender pot roast with all the trimmings, served in front of a roaring fire?”

  “Add cherry pie and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Cherry pie?” She was frowning when she heard the sound of tires crunching gravel.

  She turned to see a bright red van pulling up beside Lem’s truck. A woman and two girls stepped out, all carrying bags of groceries.

  “Hi there, Alex,” the woman called cheerfully. “I figured by now you’d be running low on supplies.”

  Alex laughed. “My hero. If you brought the fixings for a cherry pie, I just might cut a deal here.”

  “Cherry pie?” The woman turned to one of her daughters. “Kayla, go look in that other bag in the van. I’ve got cherry and blueberry filling.”

  The girl danced off, then returned holding up a can. Alex took it and gave her a hug. “Looks like I’m going to have enough firewood to last me the winter. And all it’s costing me is this.”

  Grant leaned on his ax. “I think you’ve forgotten the pot roast and all the trimmings.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. That’s what I was going to fix tonight anyway.” She turned to include the others. “Grant Malone, this is Bren Trainor and her daughters Kayla and Kelsey.”

  Grant gave them his best smile. “It’s a pleasure meeting you. Alex tells me you’re the ones who supply all the fine food we’ve been enjoying.”

  “So much food,” Alex added, “I probably won’t get through it until next spring.”

  Bren dimpled. She was a pretty woman with a short blond bob and sky blue eyes. “Well, the way you work, I figure you need plenty of protein. Besides, I have to shop for myself, so I may as well pick up a few things for you.”

  “A few things?” Alex peered into Kelsey’s bag. “Steaks, chops and is that a turkey?”

  “Just a little one. They were having a special at Benson’s Market.”

  “Uh-huh.” Alex grinned. “Come on inside. We’ll put these things away and you can stay for lunch.”

  “Only if you let us do something. We thought while we were here we’d change the bed linens and do a couple of loads of laundry.”

  Alex dropped an arm around the woman’s shoulders and called to Grant, “See why I love them?”

  When they were safely indoors, the two girls, aged fourteen and fifteen, dropped their groceries and ran to the window to watch as Grant returned to his chore.

  “What are you two doing?” their mother called.

  The two girls looked at each other and began giggling, before turning back to the window. As Alex paused beside them, Kayla, the older of the two asked, “How long is Grant staying?”

  “He hasn’t said. Why?”

  “Why?” The girl rolled her eyes, then began giggling again. “He’s better looking than a movie star.”

  Her sister nodded. “An absolute hunk.” She turned to Alex. “You mean you haven’t noticed?”

  Alex grinned. “Oh, I’ve noticed.” She started out of the room. “Bren, if you put the groceries away, I’ll strip the beds and bring the towels and linens to the laundry room.”

  “The girls can do that.” Bren protested.

  Alex shook her head. “I don’t mind. Besides, they’re too busy staring at the incredible hunk.”

  The four shared a knowing laugh before Alex headed down the hall. Behind her she could hear Bren calling her girls to help her put away the groceries or, she threatened, she’d lower the blinds.

  Alex was still laughing when she walked into Grant’s room. After tossing all his towels into a pile in the middle of the hallway, she returned to strip the bed. It gave her a strange feeling to think about that hard, muscled body stretched out on these sheets. There was that flutter again in the pit of her stomach. It annoyed her even while it caused the most pleasant of sensations. She knew she was behaving much like Kayla and Kelsey. Instead of standing with her nose pressed to the window to watch him, she carried his image in her mind. And whenever she allowed herself to think of him, it was always the same. The flutter of her pulse. The dry throat. And the incredible feeling. She pressed her hand to her stomach.

  As she paused beside the bed, she caught sight of the open drawer of Grant’s night table. For the space of a heartbeat she froze, unable to breathe.

  Glinting in the afternoon sunlight was a very small, very deadly looking pistol.

  Grant was feeling mellow. This hard, demanding work was just what he’d been craving. The long hikes up into the hills had been a start. He’d found solace in the quiet, pristine forest. And pleasure in the exploration of the primitive environment that surrounded the lodge. But this was infinitely more satisfying. While punishing his muscles, and pushing himself to the limit physically, he was also able to lose himself in thought. With every bite of blade into wood he felt a measure of satisfaction.

  He paused to wipe his arm across his forehead. The afternoon sun had melted the snow, leaving only a few traces beneath evergreens. When he looked up Alex was striding toward him. On her face was a look he hadn’t seen before.

  When she opened her hand, his eyes narrowed with sudden fury.

  “What the hell were you doing in my room?”

  “I’ll ask the questions here.” The cool, controlled tone of her voice alerted Lem, who walked up to stand beside her like a mute bodyguard.

  “What were you thinking, bringing a gun like this to my lodge?”

  “It’s my gun. I have a right to carry it. Would you like to see my permit?”

  “I don’t care about a piece of paper. I know guns. This isn’t a hunting rifle. As far as I can see, there’s only one purpose for a handgun like this. And it’s to kill people.”

  “Or to protect people from being killed.” His tone was pure ice.

  “Is that why you bro
ught this here? To protect me? Or maybe Lem?” Her voice hardened. “Or are you the one who needs protection? Because if you do, you ought to be carrying it on your person, instead of leaving it where an innocent young girl could have come upon it.”

  “All right.” He stuck out his hand. “I’ll keep it with me.”

  She snatched her hand back. “Just a minute. You asked what I was doing in your room. I was stripping your bed. And you can be thankful I was the one who took on that chore. It could have been Kayla or Kelsey who found this.”

  He blanched. His tone softened. “Look. I’ve never been careless with my weapons. But I thought you and I would be alone up here.” He glanced at Lem, who continued to stand beside Alex. On the old man’s face was a look that told Grant, better than any words, that he’d do whatever it took to protect her. “I’m sorry. I can see that I owe you an explanation. I’m a New York City cop. Or was, until I took a…leave.”

  She should have known. The lean, taut body. The hard edge she’d seen in those eyes. Eyes that seemed to be constantly searching his surroundings. As though expecting to find trouble at every turn.

  His tone lowered. “I came up here for a much-needed rest.”

  She kept her own voice unemotional. “But you brought your gun.”

  “That’s not so unusual for a police officer. In the city, I never go anywhere without my gun.”

  Anger crept into her tone. “You’re not in the city now. As long as you’re here, I want this gun locked up with the hunting rifles. Unless you agree to that, you’ll have to leave here at once.”

  She saw something flicker in his eyes, and knew that it couldn’t be easy for a man like Grant to comply with such orders. For the space of several seconds he seemed to consider the consequences.

  It occurred to him that when he’d first arrived here, he’d seen danger behind every tree. A threat lurking behind every boulder. It was a measure of how far he’d come that he was able to finally nod his agreement.

  “I can live with that.”

  “Good.” She handed it to him, causing Lem to blink in surprise. “I’d like you to check your weapon and see that it’s properly unloaded. Then you can come with me and watch while I secure it and the ammunition in a padlocked cabinet.”

  He cradled the gun in his hand with an ease that sent prickles along her scalp. Though she’d grown up with rifles, and was comfortable around hunters, this gun and the man who was casually removing its bullets, seemed completely alien to her.

  When the gun was emptied, she led Grant into the lodge and up the stairs to the gallery overlooking the great room. The wall was made of narrow panels of aged oak. When Alex pressed the first panel, it opened to reveal a padlocked cabinet hidden behind it. From a ring of keys Alex produced one that opened the lock. Inside was a custom rack holding more than a dozen rifles of various calibers.

  Grant ran a hand lightly over them. Each had been carefully oiled, with the proper ammunition resting on a shelf just below. “I’m impressed.”

  “Grandpa Sully figured that a hunting lodge might be a logical place for a thief to break into if he were bent on stealing weapons. So he didn’t want to make it easy by storing them in a conspicuous place.”

  “I’ll give your grandfather high marks. This is clever.”

  She indicated a shelf. “You can put your gun and bullets there.”

  He set them down, then took a step back. Alex locked the cabinet, and returned the wood panel to its proper position, completely concealing the cabinet behind it.

  She turned away before glancing over her shoulder to see him keeping pace just behind her. “In case you’re wondering, I have the only key. You’ll get your gun back when you’re ready to leave.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough.”

  But as he followed her along the upper gallery, he found himself looking back at the cabinet, and already missing the comfort of his gun. However much he might tell himself that he was far enough from the city to relax, it simply wasn’t in his nature. Besides, common sense told him that even here in this serene, untouched wilderness, there was no such thing as complete safety.

  As he descended the stairs, he was already second-guessing himself. He hoped he wouldn’t live to regret this decision. But the simple truth was his desire to stay here with this woman had become even stronger than his need for his weapon.

  That wasn’t an easy admission for him to make. But it was time for some honesty. Something was happening to him. Something completely beyond his control.

  He was beginning to care far too much about Alex Sullivan.

  Chapter 8

  “Okay, girls.” Bren looked up from the stove, where she was stirring a pot of steaming soup. “You can tell Alex and the men that lunch is ready.”

  “I’ll go get Grant.” Kayla, older by a year, turned to Kelsey. “You can call Alex and Lem.”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Kelsey raced to the door ahead of her. “I’ll get Grant. You get the others.”

  “Mom!” Kayla was shouting at the top of her lungs when she dashed after her younger sister and shot off the porch without even using the steps.

  As the door slammed behind them, Bren stood watching through the window, shaking her head. Both girls were ogling Grant as he brought the ax down on another log, splitting it in two.

  It seemed to their mother that it took forever before her daughters tore themselves away from the hunk to summon Alex and Lem to lunch.

  A short time later they were all seated at the kitchen table enjoying thick ham and cheese sandwiches and bowls of corn chowder.

  “Oh, Bren.” Alex sighed over the food. “You’re a lifesaver. I didn’t realize just how hungry I was until now.”

  The two men were too busy eating to say a word. They each devoured several sandwiches and nearly inhaled the soup. When Grant finally leaned back with a cup of coffee, he didn’t even notice the two teenagers watching him.

  But Alex did, and had to hide her smile behind her napkin.

  “Do you work for Alex?” Kayla asked.

  Grant shook his head. “Nope. I’m just a guest.”

  “You are? How come you’re doing all that work?” This from Kelsey.

  “I like to work. Especially if I get to work up a sweat.”

  The two girls stared at his flannel shirt, plastered to his chest, and sighed in unison.

  Kayla’s eyes were glinting with excitement. “How long will you be staying here?”

  Alex could already see those teenage wheels in motion. Kayla was wondering if Grant would still be here when she and her sister started back to work in the spring.

  Grant shrugged. “I’m not sure. I guess as long as Alex and I can stand each other’s company. I figure one of these days she’ll tell me to pack up and get going.”

  The two girls looked from Grant to Alex, then back. It occurred to Alex that the man seated across the table, who had already turned to Lem to ask about sharpening the ax, didn’t have a clue as to what these two were thinking. She tried to see Grant through their eyes, and realized that he was indeed better looking than a movie star. He had a tragic look about him that made a woman want to offer comfort. His eyes were dark, hooded, hiding a hundred secrets. But when he focused them on someone, he was able to concentrate all his attention. It was as though everyone and everything else disappeared. His face had a chiseled, rugged look that made a woman’s heart flutter. But it was softened by a poet’s mouth. And when he gave one of those rare smiles, no one was immune. At least that was the effect it had on her. Add to that six feet of the most perfectly sculpted body, and it was easy to see why two teenage girls had just lost their hearts.

  Hadn’t she already lost hers?

  She pushed away from the table. “That was a great lunch, Bren. I’ve got my energy back. Now it’s time to tackle the rest of those trees.”

  As she pulled on her parka, Bren called, “The girls and I will finish up in here. And if you’d like, I’ll get that roast started before I leave.”r />
  “You’re a saint, Bren. Thanks.”

  Alex nearly ran out the door. What she needed was fresh air to clear her head. And an afternoon of bone-jarring chores to work off whatever foolishness was suddenly taking over her common sense.

  Lem stood in the back of his truck, rolling out the logs he’d collected from beneath the trees.

  Bren and her girls had left more than an hour ago. But not until both Kayla and Kelsey had stood around watching Grant chop wood until their mother had been forced to catch them by the arms and drag them to the car.

  “I’m running out of space here, Lem.” Grant paused beside the rear wall of the lodge, piled neatly with logs all the way to the roof. “Where would you like a second stack?”

  “How about between those two trees?” The older man pointed to a clear section nearby.

  “Fine. I’ll get at it.”

  Lem rolled out the last of the logs, before jumping down to stand beside the truck. “You sure you want to tackle any more of this today? You’ve managed to accomplish what it usually takes Alex and me a month or more to do.”

  Grant smiled at the compliment. “May as well get it done.”

  “Okay. I can see that your muscles are up to it. Just wondering about your hands. Most cops I know don’t spend their days swinging an ax.”

  Grant lifted his palms and could see the blisters already forming. “Yeah. You’re right. I guess I should have built up to this slowly.” He glanced over. “Got any gloves I can borrow?”

  “In the shed. First drawer on the left in the workbench. Take the ones with padded leather palms.”

  “Thanks, Lem.”

  When he returned the older man was already cleaning up the debris around the first stack. While he raked, Grant began chopping. Soon the two men had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of chopping, stacking and raking. After another hour they paused and settled themselves on a couple of stumps, enjoying a break in the routine in the clear frigid air.

  Lem removed a pipe from his pocket and took his time filling the bowl before holding a match to it.