Jack stood leaning against a corner of the woodshed. Arrogant bastard. Okay, so she was in a mood.
“You frightened the life out of me!” she yelled, and shot him an angry look, eyes flashing. “Wipe that stupid grin off your face! My fuse is about this short.” She raised her index finger and thumb, leaving a whisker of space between them.
“I can’t,” he pleaded, palms out.
He was wearing a snug pair of black ski pants and a matching jacket under his faithful sheepskin coat, with his favourite multicoloured hat pulled over his ears. He looked worn out but good, damn it, and Katherine’s anger began to melt, just a little.
“What’re you doing here?” Annoyed, she rationalised that her breathlessness was due to the energetic demolition of one snowman, and not the man still leaning against her shed.
Jack’s grin broadened. “I was on my way back from the police station.”
“Oh don’t tell me, you were booked for driving on the wrong side of the road.”
Amused, he shook his head. “They questioned me about loitering, something to do with a complaint.”
Shit! She hated other people being dragged into her mess.
“At least it gave me the perfect opportunity to question them about Ellie, see if she had a record. They had nothing.” He gave a resigned shrug. “Ted and Millie said they’d ask around so I stopped in to see them. They had nothing. But they asked me to drop something off for you.”
“That’s nice,” she said flatly. “Leave it on the porch please. How long have you been watching me?” she asked, peeved. It was bad enough that Eric had been prowling around. Now here was Jack, large as life. “You look quite settled in. Why didn’t you speak before?” Kate went on. “I hate being spied on when I’m behaving like an idiot.”
“I’m sorry,” he said with obvious humour in his voice. “I heard noises and decided to investigate. Didn’t realise it was you until I saw you having the best tanty I’ve seen in ages.”
Hands on her hips, Katherine pulled a face. “What the heck is a tanty?”
“A tantrum,” he smiled. “I thought it best to let you get it out of your system. Besides, I think everyone needs to destroy—um, what was that you were stomping on?”
“A snowman.” Her eyes narrowed, daring him to say something.
“Right,” he nodded. “Everyone needs to destroy snowmen, sandcastles and the like. It’s good anger management.”
“Trust me,” Katherine growled, “this is not the time for witty sarcasm. And it’s not in my nature to destroy someone’s work of art. This was different; you wouldn’t understand, and it’s none of your affair.” Bristling with a bad temper, she added, “I came out here to chop some wood for the stove. As you seem infatuated with my shed wall, I’ll leave you two alone and get on with it.”
Jack chuckled and continued to lean with his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to ignore your remark, and your tone,” he said smoothly, and his self-possession riled her even further. “How about I chop the wood and you make us both a cup of coffee?”
“What is it about today?” she asked. Exasperation had her looking at the sky for an answer. “Is it a full moon or something?” She glared at him. “Did you forget to wear your hat and now your brain is frozen? Why don’t you just go about your business, and I’ll get on with mine; I’m quite capable.” She marched inside the woodshed for the axe, removed its leather cover, strode to the chopping block and set a large log on top. This had better split with one blow or she’d never hear the end of it. Come on, for independent women everywhere. She raised the axe over her head, grit her teeth and let it fall, splitting the timber in half. Perfect.
Suppressing a wide grin, she returned the halved log to the block. From the corner of her eye she saw Jack unbutton his coat. Was he getting ready to take over? Huh, that’s what he thinks. She lifted the axe and struck once more, splitting it again.
“Come on, Katherine, you’re scaring the crap out of me,” he said, advancing towards her. “You have to dance on Saturday. Let me take the axe.”
“Whoa!” She was sure lightning flashed from her eyes—could almost smell the smoke pouring out of her ears. “What cave did you crawl out of?”
“Hey, my cave is full of good manners,” Jack replied calmly. “My dad is old school. He’d be horrified if he thought I’d stood by while a beautiful woman chopped wood.”
“But if she wasn’t beautiful, that’d be okay, would it?” she snapped.
“No, it wouldn’t.” Jack extended his hand for the axe.
“Here! Take it,” she said, thrusting the axe at Jack. “There’s the pile—chop till you drop.”
“Thank you. I can always put the coffee on when I’m finished,” he grinned. “I haven’t got a chauvinist bone in my body.”
“Hah!” Katherine exclaimed. Gathering an armful of wood, she stomped towards the back door. She should have gone straight into the cabin, but lingered. She wanted to see if this Aussie non-chauvinist, who’d probably never handled an axe in his life, could chop wood as well as she could.
Jack rubbed the palms of his hands together, and gave her a wicked grin. “Does this mean you’re going to watch me?”
“In your dreams, Jack Riley,” she snapped, and strode through the back door of her cabin. She left Jack with the axe, the wood and a certain degree of confusion.
The moment Katherine opened the door, Bubbles gambolled out, woofing. She made happy noises and headed straight for Jack.
“That’s right,” Katherine called after the dog. “Go and make love eyes at the man with an axe. Honestly,” she muttered, closing the door and toeing off her boots. She busied herself making coffee and building a fire in the living room. From the kitchen window, she watched Jack rough-housing with Bubbles. When Jack had had enough, he raised both hands palms out. Bubbles took off and frolicked around the backyard, did a steaming dump in the far corner and took off again. She’d have to go out with her brand new pooper-scooper; on second thoughts, she’d need a shovel and a wheelbarrow.
It probably didn’t smell half as bad as her kitchen. Katherine wrinkled her nose; burnt plastic hung in the air. She grabbed a towel and fanned the room, which made little difference.
Damn Eric. He was most likely empowered by the fact that he could invade her personal space and do what he damn well pleased. Katherine shuddered. There wasn’t much the police could do without evidence. Shit, the evidence! Damn him. If he dared to show his face again, hopefully she would have enough wits to take photos with her mobile.
The sound of chopping stopped, and movement near the shed caught Katherine’s eye. Jack had taken off his sheepskin coat and hung it on a hook attached to the shed. With his sleeves rolled up, the long muscles of his forearms were clearly visible. His thighs flexed hard against the firm fabric of his ski pants with every blow he made. His breath fogged in the icy air.
Look out. Hot man in the snow.
Off in a fantasy world … Jack on a warm beach … Katherine’s mobile phone rang, and she flinched. Phones had become the bane of her life lately. She rummaged in her bag, thinking this was no way to live, constantly wary. She let go a sigh and yanked out her phone.
“Hello. What?” she snapped and quickly stood on a chair looking for a connection. “Got it,” she said, leaning to one side.
“What’s up with you?” Leandra asked.
“Huh, what do you mean?”
“I was breaking the speed record coming down the front slope at Lake Louise and you popped into my head. Not a good time for that to happen.” Leandra’s husky laugh came down the line despite a noisy gaggle of people around her. “Just as well it was me when you answered the phone. I can handle your snippy-cranky-crabby-waspy side.”
“I am not!” Katherine complained. When Leandra didn’t react, she added, “Well, all right, I am a bit snippy. Where are you?”
“The Grizzly Bear Tavern has no mobile connection. The place is full of Germans, Swiss, Italians—ooh they’re nice�
��Australians!” Leandra raised her voice over loud music, clinking glasses, guffawing, and every second word starting with F.
“Why didn’t you ring the landline?”
“I did the other day and … nothing. Are you whispering? Hold on, come clean. There’s a man in the house.”
“You’re such a pushy—”
“Hey, be nice,” Leandra yelled. “I’m a caring friend, you’re the only one I share stuff with, and you have to reciprocate. So what’s happening right now?”
Katherine stooped and peeked outside. Jack looked right at home piling split logs in the shed.
“C-o-m-e o-n,” Leandra whined. “Speak, I’m running out of time here!”
Katherine rattled off the Eric’s ugly snowman, roses and photo story.
“Eeywh! What a creep. Never could relax around him, he had shifty eyes.” Leandra let out a grunt-breath.
“I haven’t told you yet, but I’ve adopted a dog. Bubbles. She tried to warn me early this morning, and I put it down to her new environment.”
“Love that you have a dog. What else?”
What the heck. Katherine told her everything.
“That’s great!” Leandra exclaimed warmly. “You’ve met someone who doesn’t need a straitjacket.”
“Yeah, and he’s outside with an axe!” Katherine announced, still stooping, not able to take her eyes off Jack.
“Is he looking for Eric?” Leandra laughed. “Sorry, couldn’t let that slip by.”
“I wouldn’t have either.” Katherine laughed. “The fact is, Jack’s only in Canada for a short time. Hope he finds ‘whoever’, and that will be the end of it. That’s why I’m not going to the Christmas dance.”
“A few months ago we were having a bitch about you not wanting a relationship because all the men you ever liked—or loved—leave! Yes, even your dad. It’s about time you forgave him for dying, don’t you think?”
“You’re so blunt sometimes—but I love you for it. I’m still not going. Besides, I have Bubbles to look after.”
“I’ll sacrifice my night out and look after the dog; I’ll be in town anyway. We can swap stories, and I’ll tell you all about Claude. What time do you want to go visit your dad tomorrow? I’ve got a better idea, I’m coming for breakfast. Be there around eight with croissants, unless you want to make the lumpy porridge you’re so famous for?”
“No thanks. Anyway, what makes you think I’ll be up?”
“I don’t care. I still have a key to the cabin. The dance is this Friday so all you need think about for the next couple of days is what to wear. You’re going dancing, up close with a guy who, I assume, knows nothing about ballet. No excuses. His name’s not Chance Bastard or Claude Phoney Fournier.”
“Tell me now, what happened with Claude?”
But Leandra didn’t stop; she followed it with some of her typical logic. “You have put your life on hold for such a long time because of your career, and that was your choice, and I might say a good one, because your dates, so far, have been total crap. God knows what you would’ve ended up with had you not had ballet, so yeah, in that respect you made the right choice.”
“Are you done? Cut back on the adrenalin and coffee.”
“I’m fine; you get me wound up, that’s all. This guy, right—do you like his company or would you call him knuckles?”
“He’s not a Neanderthal, if that’s what you mean,” Katherine sighed, trying to keep her curiosity about Jack low-key.
“Well, that’s good then,” Leandra said. “Life’s too short. Sometimes you have to believe in fate. Now promise me, if he asks again you’ll go. Promise you won’t panic and pass up a fun night out surrounded by people you know! And if you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me, a woman on the edge.” Leandra’s raucous belly laugh made Katherine pull the phone away. from her ear.
“On the edge of what?”
“If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to shove my ski stock right up … and then I’ll thump his friend. They know I’m on the phone so they act like teenage boys. Go dancing!” she yelled.
“All right, keep your panties on, I will think about it.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re going, Kate! I’ll be at your place tomorrow, we’ll go visit Henry. Love you! Gotta go! Where are my stocks?”
“I love you too,” Katherine murmured, closing off, suddenly aware of a presence behind her. Great.
Jack might have been busy toeing off his boots, that didn’t mean he’d missed her last remark. He walked through to the kitchen with a stupid grin, carrying an armful of cut wood, and his coat.
“Alas,” he said, dropping the logs in the basket near the stove and hanging his coat over the back of a chair, “such shattered dreams. It was in deepest hope thou loved me for toiling with axe and wood in winter’s icy cold. A toil given freely to keep my lady warm.” With an exaggerated bow, he whisked the rainbow hat off his head. And for his trouble, Bubbles dropped something at his feet and licked his face.
“I bet you were a big hit in your school’s drama classes,” Katherine said, unable to stop herself from smiling. Her anger had evaporated with the loving contact of Leandra, and the joking way in which Jack had played with her last remark.
“Um. Not very. Would this be yours?” A bra dangled from his index finger.
In a flash, Katherine grabbed the bra and stuffed it in her sweat pants pocket. “Er, yes, thanks. I think Bubbles has taken a liking to my underwear.”
Grabbing a potholder, she took the bubbling percolator off the combustion stove and poured them both a coffee. Steam rose and she breathed in the aroma, telling herself to relax, be calm.
“Is something burning?” Jack asked, nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air. “Smells like scorched plastic and—”
“Cellophane,” Katherine told him, coming back to earth with a thud.
“Okay,” he said, eyebrows drawn together, looking confused. “C’mon, give me the poop, the dirt. What were you doing out there?” Jack asked, settling himself in front of the living room fire. Flames crackled and licked around the logs as he watched her over the rim of his cup.
The whole crappy episode weighed heavily on Katherine. She didn’t relish having to explain about Eric, the snowman, the card and the roses. Resting her arm on the sofa, she took a deep breath to ease her anxiety and told him the whole story.
“So,” Jack said thoughtfully, “you were letting off steam. The man’s an idiot if he thinks that’s going to work to get you back.”
“Back?! I never went out with that ass!” Katherine, outraged, chomped into a cookie. “He sent flowers after performances,” she mumbled around cookie crumbs. “Became a patron, and the company needs to keep our sponsors happy. And he seemed like a nice guy, lonely and anxious to please. His type doesn’t attract me at all, but that doesn’t mean they should be excluded. So a few of us would have coffee and he’d turn up.” Tension rising, she fisted her hands. “God only knows how he knew where we were. My biggest mistake was to ask him to dinner at my apartment.” She thumped her forehead with the heel of her hand. “What an idiot.”
Jack gave her a bewildered yet surprised look, his mixed expressions comical.
Katherine shook her head. “We weren’t alone. There were six of us, all single, all too busy with performances to worry about dating.”
“You’re letting him get under your skin. He craves any attention from you.”
“Damn. Why didn’t I think of that,” Katherine said, dripping with sarcasm.
“And he’s made you defensive,” Jack smiled.
She cringed. “Sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”
He shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. It’s scary having someone invade your privacy. Have you told the police?”
“Yes, but I need to tell them about today.” A thought occurred; she hunched over, face in her hands. “And stupid, stupid me, destroyed all the evidence.”
“Oops. You want me to go outside, take some photos?”
> “What of—two pieces of charcoal and a broken carrot?”
“Hmm. Never mind, shi–stuff happens.”
Katherine wasn’t fooled by his flippant remark. His eyes sparked anger.
“I almost forgot—” Jack pushed himself off the sofa and took Katherine’s hand. Her breath caught. His strong fingers, wrapped around hers, felt good, comfortable. “I left a surprise outside.”
“Good lord. Not sure I like surprises,” Katherine said nervously.
“It’s from Ted and Millie’s store. Relax, it won’t hurt.”
“Millie didn’t persuade you to buy a puppy or something like a—a pet, did she? Someone to keep Bubbles company?” She glanced over her shoulder at the dog, twitching and running in her sleep. “Millie’s cute and has a heart of gold, but sometimes she doesn’t think about the consequences.”
“Stop panicking.” He swung open the door. Bubbles woke with a start and groaning, clambered to her feet.
“A Christmas tree!” Katherine exclaimed, hand on her chest.
“According to Millie, the Bell cabin without a tree is unheard of.” Jack reached for a package. “I bought a stand, just in case.” Bubbles took it and trotted inside. “Are you sure she’s not a retriever?”
“I think she might be.” Katherine hurried down the snowy steps and gathered the top of the tree, while Jack grabbed the trunk. They carted it to a corner of the living room and grappled it into an upright position. Jack held the tree while Katherine told Bubbles to drop the new toy. She unwrapped the stand and slid it into place.
“I’ll get the scissors.” Katherine went to her mother’s sewing basket and hurried back. She cut the twine holding the branches together and with a whoosh they spread to a lovely conical shape.
Jack turned the tree until its best side faced the living room. “How’s that?”
“Great.” Gazing at him, Katherine inclined her head. “You bought me a tree!” She ran her fingers through her hair and left her hand sitting on top of her head, not knowing what to think about this. Take a leaf out of Leandra’s book, her mind nudged.
Finding Elizabeth Page 8