Holding Off for a Hero

by Gail MacMillan

  “Sounds good to me. I’ve had a long day, too.”

  Home. Coming from Emma it sounded so good.

  ****

  “Miss.” A figure rose out of the shadows behind Frasier’s SUV as he was unlocking the passenger door.

  Frasier pulled Emma back and stepped between her and the stranger.

  “Hey, it’s cool!” Jesse Jones hissed as Frasier’s hands knotted into fists. “I just came to warn you. Todd’s in a rotten mood.” He looked up at Frasier. “Says you’ll pay for flushing his stuff. He’s got friends…tough guys who know where you live.”

  “Jesse, Todd wouldn’t send anyone to do us physical harm.” Emma stepped up beside Frasier. “He’s just talking big.”

  “Yeah? Like he was when he said he was going to torch your apartment? Like he was when my girlfriend disappeared for a whole day?”

  “Penny was abducted? Jesse, why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you report it?”

  The teenager shrugged. “Said his friends would hurt her real bad if I did. After what happened at your place, I knew he wasn’t bluffing.”

  “Who are these friends?” Frasier asked.

  “Don’t know. I only met them once—when I got Penny back—and they were wearing ski masks. I gotta go. If you tell anyone I talked to you, I’ll swear you’re both lyin’.”

  He turned and ran into the darkness at the edge of the parking lot.

  “Well, that was interesting.” Frasier put his arm back around Emma’s shoulders.

  “We have to go to the police and tell them what Jesse said!” Emma looked up at him, her eyes wide and bright in the glow of security lights.

  “They’d only pull the kid in for questioning, he’d deny everything, and Penny would be back in danger. No, all we can do is watch our backs and keep our eyes open for proof of what he said. Now, come on. You’re shivering. Let me get you home.”

  ****

  “Where did you learn to dance like that?” she asked when Frasier had headed the SUV out onto the highway.

  “I attended high school and university and played in a band. I wasn’t always the hermit at Loon Lake.”

  “Who insists on keeping his lady neighbor at a safe distance?” Emma finished, sarcasm coloring her words.

  “Sorry. The timing’s just not right.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She pulled up the collar of her coat, slumped down in the seat, and closed her eyes. “Like I haven’t heard that before. Wake me when we get home. And,” she opened one eye to glance up at him. “Mind the speed limit. I understand the Mounties patrol this stretch of highway pretty rigorously.”

  “Look who’s giving driving advice!”

  He glanced over at her, but she’d shut both eyes again and cuddled deeper into her jacket.

  ****

  Five minutes later he looked again. She appeared fast asleep, long dark lashes spread out on soft, glowing cheeks. She’d worn a simple white turtleneck and black pants to the dance, a pair of gold hoop earrings her only jewelry. Outdoors she’d topped it with a white, hip-length, double-breasted, belted wool jacket. The outfit suited her soft beauty to a T.

  His attention flew back to the road as a tractor-trailer whizzed past. He’d better stop mooning over Emma and concentrate on his driving.

  It would have been a whole lot easier if she weren’t so beautiful. Why couldn’t she have been ugly, with a wart on the end of a crooked nose? No, no, on second thought that probably wouldn’t help, now that he knew her, now that he’d come to respect and admire (he wouldn’t even think the word “love”) her. Like the princess with that stupid frog…in role reversal…he’d probably kiss her anyway. Blast it! He hit the steering wheel a thump. She flinched in her sleep, then with a soft little sigh snuggled back into slumber.

  Sorry, but you’re driving me nuts.

  ****

  Back at the lake, he swung the SUV around to illuminate the entire clearing before braking to a halt with the headlights focused on her verandah. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.

  “Emma, we’re home,” he said softly, touching her on the shoulder.

  Blinking back to wakefulness, she pulled herself up in the seat. He got out and jogged around to the passenger door.

  “Give me your key,” he said holding out his hand. “I’ll open up and start a fire.”

  Groggily she dug a key ring from her purse. “Pink one,” she mumbled. “I had a color-coded one cut.”

  “Okay.” He took it from her and headed toward the cabin illuminated in the headlights.

  “Hey!” She came fully awake. “Isn’t this the romantic part where Prince Charming gathers his lady fair up into his arms and sweeps her into his castle?”

  “Didn’t you read the sequel?” He fitted the key into the door. “Prince Charming ended up with a herniated disc. The princess had to rub disgusting, smelly ointment on it for months before he was well enough to hobble, never mind make love. Now come on. Let’s get you inside before drowsiness brings on any more inane suggestions.”

  Emma fumbled out of the SUV. Grasping her purse, she headed up the steps. When he turned from unlocking the door, she leaned against him and rose on tiptoes.

  “Come here, Frasier MacKenzie,” she murmured drowsily. “The least you can do is give a girl a decent goodnight kiss after dancing yourself into her dreams.”

  A whiff of a scent so delicate he couldn’t be certain whether he smelled it or imagined it emanated from her hair. From against his chest, all the warm, sensuousness that was Emma engulfed him and drew every ounce of male instinct raging to the surface.

  “Emma,” he breathed and lowered his head.

  When he drew her body close to fit into every curve and hollow of his, all thoughts of the project and an unrelenting Professor whisked off into the moonlight. A soft, sexy Emma was kissing him as he’d never been kissed before; an overwhelmingly sensuous Emma, who washed all rational thoughts from his mind with the power of a tsunami.

  “Emma,” he breathed again. Kicking the unlatched door open, he made a move to gather her up in his arms. The wound yanked at his flesh, and he grunted.

  “No, no, no!” She stopped him. “I was joking. You’re not physically fit for anything more than a kiss. And,” she continued more slowly, “I’m not ready for anything more than a kiss from a guy who puts me second to his cat-chasing career. Good night, Frasier MacKenzie. I’ll see you in my dreams.”

  With a coy smile she eased herself out of his arms and backed into the cabin. When she closed the door gently in his face, he wanted to roar up at that stupid full moon like a frustrated werewolf.

  “Lock your doors and windows and keep your cell by your bed,” he managed instead. “Call me if you see or hear anything in the least suspicious.”

  ****

  When Frasier awoke the next morning, he hoped Emma Prescott had seen him in her dreams every minute of the past six hours. He hoped she’d felt at least half as frustrated as he had. She’d danced around in his head all night, just out of his reach, until he’d awoken to find himself rolled up in knotted sheets.

  Rubbing his head, he shut off the alarm and got out of bed. He’d be glad when this project came to a successful conclusion. Hopefully successful. The words reared out of his subconscious and, much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t entirely disregard them. What if Emma was in some way involved with students and drugs? Crazy as it seemed, absurd as it appeared, he had to keep an unbiased outlook. He couldn’t go letting his inclinations and body rule his brain.

  He showered, shaved, dressed, and made a pot of strong coffee. With a steaming cup in his hands, he went onto his veranda to admire a bright new morning sliding in over the mirror-still lake. A familiar gossamer mist was rising off the calm water, the first rays of the sun peeking over the rim of the mountains turning it to a veil of transparent gold. He drew a deep breath and wished he were free to enjoy this fantastic place with Emma. He leaned pensively against a verandah post, watching a pair of loons cavorting and hooting
happily just beyond the dock.

  Some birds have all the luck.

  His cell vibrated against his hip. He pulled it out, snapped it open, and groaned. The Professor.

  “Frasier?” His supervisor’s authoritative voice brought him up straight.

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “How are you making out with that woman? Convinced her to leave yet?”

  “No, sir, actually I haven’t. But I don’t think she poses any threat to our project.” Man, now he was lying to his boss.

  “I’m not so sure. I need to meet with you to discuss strategies. She could be in serious danger when you close in on those Eastern Panthers.”

  “I’ve had no evidence of their presence, sir, not for some time. I’m wondering if they’ve moved on to safer territory. They may have spotted me.”

  “I don’t think so, Frasier. You’ve been doing a good job, in spite of that woman. I’m confident they’re still in the area. Now to the point of this call. I need you to come to Fredericton today for a meeting. The Project Executive has gathered and wants responses to questions I can’t answer without you to back me up.”

  “Fredericton! But, sir, that would mean leaving Emma…Miss Prescott…alone here at the lake. I hardly think that’s a good idea.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll see to it that one of the rangers keeps an eye on her. She’ll be perfectly safe. Furthermore,” he continued, his tone brooking no refusal, “your coming to Fredericton is an order, not a request, understood?”

  “Understood.” The word was a reluctant compliance. I’ll leave right away…sir.”

  ****

  “Emma.”

  An hour later he knocked at Emma’s door. “Emma, I’ve been called to Fredericton. May I leave Scout with you?”

  “Coming, coming. It’s Saturday, by the way. Counselors’ sleep-in day.” He heard her voice from the back of the cabin. Shortly she opened the door, wearing a pink, knee-length flannel nightshirt with two bears hugging on its front. Her hair was tousled, her feet bare. His breath clumped in his throat.

  “You’re leaving?” She looked up at him, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  “Meetings at the university. I won’t be back until Monday around noon. I was going to leave Scout with you for protection, but on second thought I believe it would be better if you moved into town while I’m gone. Can you stay with a friend?” The Professor’s promise of a ranger’s protection hadn’t assured him of Emma’s safety.

  “Frasier, I’ll be perfectly okay. And I’ll be happy to babysit Scout. No need to find an excuse for leaving him with me.”

  “Emma, I’m serious. I don’t think you should stay up here alone.”

  “Go.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Come in, Scout. You’re just in time for breakfast.”

  As the big Shepherd followed her inside, she planted a quick kiss on Frasier’s lips.

  “Safe journey,” she said, and vanished into her cabin.

  Hell and damnation! He headed toward his SUV. He knew the Professor would have someone watching out for Emma; still, he felt a long way from comfortable at leaving her.

  “Call me if anything strange happens,” he called back. “You have my cell number.”

  “Go!”

  ****

  A desire for a coffee for the road hit when he drove into Carleton. The sandwich shop displayed the “open” sign in its window. He pulled into a parking space and strode inside.

  “Good morning, Professor MacKenzie.” Mildred Carter joined him at the counter while he waited for his coffee. “You’re away from Loon Lake early on a Saturday morning. I would have thought you’d be spending Emma’s time off with her.”

  The snide implication in her words made Frasier turn to face her, annoyance muddying his mood.

  “Miss Prescott is my neighbor. We don’t plan our days around each other’s activities.”

  “Really? You chaperoned our dance last night with her, didn’t you? And school rumor has it you recently shared a romantic lunch at Pine Lodge.”

  “We’re friends. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

  He picked up his coffee, dropped payment on the counter, and started to turn away.

  “Be careful, Professor.” She caught him by the arm. “Emma Prescott may not be what you think she is.”

  Vindictive, jealous wench. Nevertheless there’s an opportunity here.

  “What do you mean, Miss Carter? Is there something about Emma Prescott I should know?”

  “Not for me to say.” She stuck out her chin and shrugged. “It wouldn’t do any good anyway. Once Emma gets her hooks into a man, they become deaf, dumb, and blind to reason.”

  The waitress placed Mildred’s coffee and muffin on the counter, and Frasier dug in his pocket and shoved a bill across to the other side in payment.

  “My treat.” He smiled down at her. Her prim lips loosened as she flushed. Apparently I can still charm some women. “Let’s take a seat, and you can tell me all about the infamies of Emma Prescott.”

  “Well…” She let him guide her to a booth near the front of the restaurant. The place was empty except for themselves and the waitress, who’d retreated into the back. “On the surface, Emma is all sunshine and flowers. But she’s had way too many men friends and is way too friendly with the dark element of the student population for my taste.”

  “Isn’t dealing with troubled students a big part of her job?” Hating himself, he sat down across from her. He didn’t want to hear anything negative about Emma.

  “Of course. But she often spends her noon hours with them and remains later than any other teacher after the final bell. When she and Brock Kelly were an item, well, we knew what was going on. After that affair ended, one could only suspect what she was up to. And poor Mr. Worth, our English literature teacher! Broke his heart and never even paused to look back. Why, when I offered her and that ugly little dog of hers a place to stay, she wouldn’t even invite him and Mr. Kelly over to dinner. She was afraid that seeing us together Mr. Worth would realize I was the woman for him, not some flighty girl with eyes for a big, dumb, muscle-bound creature like that gym teacher!”

  “You and Mr. Worth have a lot more in common than he and Emma?”

  “Oh, my, yes. Mr. Worth and I have a deep appreciation for Lord Byron. Do you know what she fancies? The poems and songs of that alcoholic Scot Robert Burns. Why, Professor, some of his works are enough to make any decent woman blush! Promise me you’ll be very careful around Emma Prescott. You’d be an easy target for her, living way up at Loon Lake all alone.”

  “Actually, it’s Associate Professor.” He picked up his coffee and stood. “Thanks for your time, Miss Carter. And your warning.”

  Man, that woman has a venomous tongue! He strode out of the restaurant and climbed back into his SUV, slamming the door harder than necessary.

  ****

  Emma shoved The Sound’s CD into her stereo, cranked it up, and, gyrating to the beat, began to clean her cabin. When Frasier’s voice came in to back up Larry Hadlen’s, she paused in her dusting, a dreamy smile sliding across her features.

  “Isn’t he great, Bruise!” she yelled to the little dog sitting beside Scout on the couch. “And he lives right next door! How lucky is that!”

  A loud knocked startled her. She whirled to see a man in a forestry uniform peering in through the screen. She crossed the room, turned off the music, and smiled at the visitor.

  “Come in, Officer,” she called. “It’s not locked.”

  “‘Morning, miss.” The man pulled off his hat and stepped inside. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is. Would you like a coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

  “Thanks, but I can’t stay. I’m just making my rounds, warning campers of a big, rogue bear that’s roaming the area. Seems he’s attacked a dog and chased a hiker. They don’t often behave that way, so we figure this one may be sick, possibly rabies. We’re asking everyone to evacuate the region around Loon Lake u
ntil we can capture him. I can help you pack up, if you’d like.”

  “Thanks for your concern, Officer, but we’ll stay.” Emma flashed him a smile. “We’ve got good sturdy doors and windows, and I’ll be vigilant when I go outdoors. Just keep me posted, will you? Let me know when you’ve gotten the situation under control.”

  “But, miss, I really must insist. If you’re worried about finding a place to stay, I know a decent motel up on the highway that accepts dogs. And,” he continued, “these guys,” he indicated Bruiser and Scout, “will have to go outdoors from time to time. I’m sure you don’t want to risk their safety.”

  “Well…” Emma looked at the pair on the couch, gazing over at her with wide, trusting eyes. “When you put it that way… Okay, give me a minute to pack.”

  “Allow me to help.”

  ****

  Emma lay on the bed in the motel room and flipped idly through the pages of a magazine. She was bored, and she longed to be back in her cabin where she could work on her files, clean house, and enjoy the beauty and tranquility of Loon Lake.

  Her mind wandered back to the ranger’s visit and his insistence on her leaving. Rabies. She hadn’t heard of a case in the area for years. She turned to her laptop beside her on the bed. Google search. Rabies. Loon Lake region.

  Ten minutes later Emma was in her car, the dogs in the rear seat, headed back to Loon Lake. As near as she’d been able to ascertain, there hadn’t been a reported case of rabies in the area in nearly two years, and never among regional bears. She found it difficult to believe that the Department of Natural Resources had seen fit to evacuate the entire area because of a single suspicious case. Something definitely didn’t smell right about the situation, and she was going to find out why.

  ****

  She braked to a stop close to the front steps of her cabin and paused to peruse the area. Nothing suspicious that she could see.

  “Stay,” she ordered the two dogs in the back seat, then eased herself out of the vehicle, shutting the door behind her. Again, she scanned the clearing. She started up the steps, keeping a watchful eye for anything that might signal trouble or danger of any kind. With the car parked at the foot of the steps, she could make a dash back into it at the first indication of a problem.