by Lyz Kelley
“That looks like a sports field of some sort.”
“It’s the high school.”
He pointed to a large estate just below the ridge. “Who lives there?”
“That house is for sale.” Lifting her chin, she scanned the sky. Her emotions shuttered and dimmed her earlier joyous shine. “We’d better get back. The snow’s picking up.” Without another word, she followed the trail of footprints back toward the snowmobile.
The large house nestled against the ridge attracted his attention again. Something about the house had made her shut down. He rubbed his hands over his face, uttering silent, frustrated curses, wracking his brain to figure out what the hell he’d said to send her into hiding this time.
He hadn’t meant to turn her off.
He seriously considered throwing her over his shoulder and dumping her in a snow bank, and then tickling her just to see if he could get her smile to return. How insane was that? He leaned over and scooped a handful of snow, squeezing and pressing the frozen water together to ease his frustrations. Without thinking, he stretched his arm back and launched—bulls-eye.
His brain froze when she whipped around. The combustible playful passion in her features could only be described as spectacular. So magnificent, so distracting, he only had a second to respond to the threat of an inbound snowball. Dodging left, he tracked his prey with fixed determination. Ashley ran left, then right, launching snowballs as fast as she could make them. With every passing second, he slowly closed in on his target. She reached down for more snow, trying to hold him off, but when she reached her arm back, he rushed in and scooped her into his embrace, effectively disarming her.
She threw her head back and laughed. “Put me down.”
He loved the sound of her laugh, an open and free expression of joy. Gone was the melancholy he’d seen moments earlier. She wiggled in his arms and brought his attention back to those luscious lips.
“No,” he said.
“That’s not fair,” she complained.
He enjoyed watching her eyes fill with mischief. “What’s not fair?”
“You’re bigger than I am.”
Considering he’d refused to respond to her relentless barrage of snow-bullets, he’d been more than equitable. Especially since a few of her balls had hit their mark. “Ashley, you’re more than capable of defending yourself. I’m not falling for your weaker-sex excuse. Another woman tried that once. Let’s just say I’m a quick learner.”
She tilted her head back. “If I pout, will that work?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll promise not to throw any more snowballs, if you will.” She laughed and pushed on his chest. “Let me down.”
He reluctantly set her on her feet. She walked back to the sled and sat on the seat. “Where are you from, Chase? You haven’t said much about your family.”
And if he had his way, he didn’t intend to. What could he say?
That his birth mother hated him for being too much like his father—the father he never knew? That his mom had finally lost custody after being arrested for the third time on meth charges, and the New Jersey court system had sent him to a foster home? That at six years old, he was no longer a cute baby someone might want to adopt?
His military brothers became his family. Maybe they didn’t have his blood running through their veins, but they’d shared more than enough blood in the field. He’d do anything for his buddies, including give his life—like Bobby had.
He took a deep breath, remembering and honoring his friend’s sacrifice. He missed him, a lot.
He went over and sat on the snowmobile seat beside her, releasing the bungee cord holding a cooler, and handing her a bottle of water. “The military is my real family. I know you’re not into the military, but the guys are like brothers, a bit wacked sometimes, but when the chips are down, they have my back. The Corps has provided me with stability.”
“Stability. Really? You call moving every few years stability?” She gave him a direct stare, then something shifted. “Don’t answer that. I’m being unfair, and biased.”
“It’s all right.” Without thinking, he brushed snow from her jacket. “I see the look on some wives’ and girlfriends’ faces when we’re about to deploy. I get it.”
She swallowed a bite of her Reuben on marbled rye. “It must be hard fighting in a foreign country when people back home forget the events occurring on the other side of the globe. I’m sure when you are home, the dramas seem small compared to what you live with on a daily basis. It’s no wonder your service mates become closer than family.”
The understanding he saw in her expression amazed him. “Are your parents together?”
“Nope. Still married. From what my mom said, we moved five times in seven years, and were about to move again when my mom called a time-out and moved here instead. She wanted to build a place—a place for my dad to come home to—but with hindsight, I think she just wanted to plant some roots.”
Chase took the last bite of his meal and stuffed the paper wrapping back in the bag. “I can understand wanting to stay put. Soldiers relocate a lot. There’s no reason their family has to.”
“But then the kids grow up not knowing their parent.”
The way her expression turned sad nearly gutted him. “Ashley?” he asked softly. He hated her sorrowful expression. He lifted a hand to her cheek and was surprised when she pushed his arm away.
“Please don’t. Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t want your pity.”
Pity had to be the last thing he felt. Loneliness maybe, which made him ache for her. He understood just because a person surrounded themselves with people didn’t mean they weren’t lonely. Like him, she didn’t have family support, yet she’d created one. She had a whole town watching out for her, caring for her. And she gave caring in return. Harold had filled his ears with stories about how she’d organized a local bake sale to support the race for multiple sclerosis, or donated books to the local library, and found homes for any stray animal that happened to get lost in Elkridge.
She had a lot to give. And he got that, too.
“There’s no pity here.”
“That’s good.” The smooth sensual response included a playful smile, before additional emotions flowed across her face and changed her mood. “Thank you for fixing the snowmobile. Today’s been perfect.”
But her perpetual, underlying sadness settled in again. Crap, her angelic eyes mesmerized him. Those beautiful and soulful eyes made him want things. Things he wasn’t sure he could ever have. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he leaned in before remembering the last time she’d run off when he tried to kiss her. He eased back.
“You’re welcome. But like with the stairs, I must be honest. I didn’t fix the snowmobile just for you.”
“No?” There was that beautiful lift of the brow. She leaned in a bit more.
“No, I did it to stay busy. If I don’t stay busy, my mind tends to… Let’s just say I need to keep busy.”
She removed her glove and ran a hand down his face, her fingers stopping at the dimple in his chin. Her warm finger touched his lower lip.
God, he wanted to kiss her. Her gaze reminded him how he felt when he’d looked at his pancakes at breakfast. The thick buttermilk flapjacks with delicious, creamy butter and thick, sticky maple syrup running down the sides.
“Let’s see if I can’t keep your mind busy.” Ashley moved closer.
Chase groaned, one of those hell-yeah sounds, and the next minute his hand moved to the back of her neck and guided her in.
His kiss tasted brown sugar sweet, and she searched with her tongue to taste. His tongue stroked and sampled greedily, while his lips and teeth nibbled.
She hadn’t meant to lean in, but then she saw the same hurt in his expression she clearly felt.
His strong, protective arms surrounded her and held her close. His wet lips pressed in, a little bit hungry, a little bit determined. She let out a soft murmur. Strong arms crossed over h
er shoulders and then tightened, his hands caressing. Embers deep inside her ignited, and a whispered promise of something beautiful and magical fanned the flame. A hunger she hadn’t known existed seized her. She wanted to stop the insanity, but his gentle yet urgent hands held tight.
She moaned and met his need. His arms created a strong, secure haven. She hadn’t felt safe in way too long. He deepened their connection, and she groaned and concentrated on absorbing his warmth, experiencing the heat and hardness of every last inch of him.
She could feel the moment when his brain re-engaged because he started to tear away, but she wasn’t ready to let go. “More,” sighed from her lips, and it felt exactly right.
He let out a low growl and drove deeper. Her body hummed, and his arousal left no doubt he felt the same sizzle. The smell of cookie dough made her nuzzle closer to get a better sniff. She couldn’t help herself. Stopping would have been like putting the lid back on the gallon of ice cream, and she couldn’t do that. She trailed her kisses across his skin and found his ear to nibble on his lobe. He sighed her name.
His fingers wrapped gently around her neck and dragged her lips back to his. Just when she speculated he might come up for air, he dove back in for one last hurrah. Her mind exploded with excitement as he peppered her face with little kisses. She let her head fall back and allowed him to take his fill. The clouds drifting overhead made her feel like she was floating.
And suddenly she was slipping and plummeting back to earth. Her mind screamed no, no, no, but it was too late. His taut muscles released her, his lips still reluctant to leave hers. Her muscles had turned to mush, and she had a hard time keeping her balance. Her eyes finally flickered open, and the raw desire she saw in his brown eyes warmed her all the way to her toes.
“Wow,” he said, his voice a bit shaky.
Her forehead dropped against his chest. “That’s all you can say? Wow?”
“Yeah.” His hand had come to rest on top of her head. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
She had no idea what he was expecting. They had chemistry. Lots of it. She didn’t need to take a college science course to know how explosive certain elements could be. Slipping from his arms, she stood and took a step to create distance.
She pressed fingertips to her lips to quell the sensations. “We weren’t…I wasn’t…. Well. Crap.”
The need had been urgent. Like her life depended on it. She’d clung to him as if he were her lifeline and she dangled off a hundred-foot cliff. She blamed it on his smell. Buttery rich and gooey.
He raised a hand, stopping her tumbling thoughts and stood, taking her hand. “This is my fault,” he said, his voice thick with confusion and frustration.
“No, it’s not. I’m the one who threw myself at you.”
“But…” He didn’t say anything else, just looked at her like he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, which made her wonder why she hadn’t wanted him to kiss her in the first place.
He’s leaving. That was it. But did his leaving really matter?
Yes, she concluded.
She had no right to start on a journey she couldn’t finish. Berating lectures from her mother filled her head. She turned and walked to the tree line to create some distance. For a moment, she stood watching the dry snow swirl on a wind current, trying to absorb the tranquility of the scene and ease the violent wave of emotions still crashing around inside her. The snow crunched behind her, and she felt the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck.
She was beginning to think maybe kissing and leaving shouldn’t have anything to do with each other. Jenna had suggested she enjoy herself. Locking lips with this magnificent-looking, muscle-packed soldier blasted the top off the awesomeness scale.
Suddenly, he yanked her to the ground and covered her body before she even heard the sound of a rifle shot echoing through the hills.
“Stay down,” he demanded.
She lifted her head, but he held it down. Another shot echoed off the valley walls.
“It’s just someone target practicing,” she assured him.
The intensity in his body eased. “And five, maybe six hundred yards away. Close enough for a friendly fire accident. That’s too close for comfort. We should go.” He inhaled a long, slow, scare-depleting breath. Then he hauled her up and brushed the snow off her jacket. “The sun’ll be down soon anyway.”
“You’re right. I still have things to do back at the shop.”
The tension in his body and the wild, intense look in his eyes should have frightened her, but it didn’t. He walked back toward the sled. She followed him, securing her helmet. Seconds later, he joined her, letting the silence ease both of them back to reality.
Speeding down the logging trail, she couldn’t help but feel she’d just missed winning the lottery by one number. The kiss had touched her more than she wanted to admit. The intense, sensual emotion—more than him leaving—had been the reason she called a halt.
Traveling in silence, racing toward the truck, she felt every inch of his arms and legs and chest nuzzling closer. She let the snow and wind pelt her face, hoping soon her body would go numb from the cold so she’d stop feeling the confusion and culpability seeping into her bones.
Lost in thought, she almost missed the movement in the trees, but then she eased back on the gas a little and scanned the tree line. There it was again. Movement—the first reason why things are seen. The list she’d memorized to get her dad’s approval—shape, size, shine, texture, color, and shade—rolled on.
She slowed the snowmobile even more. Cougars and bears roamed the hills, and once in a while, the wild animals liked to chase and play with moving objects. She didn’t want to get caught off guard, so she let the machine slide to a stop. Chase’s arm came around her shoulder, his index finger pointing. She inched the machine closer to the edge of the tree line, spotting drops of blood. Ten feet away, she saw a pair of nervous eyes peering from behind the bramble bushes. When she whistled, the animal’s ears perked her direction.
“I’ll be back.”
Chase's gloved hand tugged on her arm. “This isn’t a good idea. That coyote or dog, whatever it is, could be rabid.”
“If he snarls and I come running, it’s your job to get us out of here. And I expect full throttle. None of that grandma driving.” She forced her shoulders to relax and hoped the lack of outward tension would ease his concerns.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” His warning made her pause and second guess. She held his gaze for a moment before facing the forest.
He didn’t interfere, but his whole body went on alert, impressing her and boosting her confidence. Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved the plastic-wrapped strip of smoked buffalo jerky a hunter had given her in exchange for one of the knives in her mom’s store. She’d intended the jerky to be her emergency provisions, just like her fire starter, but she supposed this situation constituted an emergency. Unwrapping the piece of dried meat, she tentatively approached the edge of the road, squatted, extended the food to the animal, and waited. Minutes passed before she heard a twig break, then more movement. Wind continued to ease through the evergreens. The temperature continued to drop as the sun sank lower in the sky. The fetid smells of blood and animal eventually wafted her way. She choked back the smell, breathed through her mouth.
“That’s it. Come and get it.”
A matted black dog hobbled forward, dragging a rear leg behind, blood smearing the snow. She waited.
“A few more steps. You can do it.”
As the animal came closer, she could see the gaunt face and the protruding rib cage of what looked like a large shepherd. The more she saw, the more she was convinced this dog had almost been some predator’s dinner. When she met the dog’s gaze, something connected, and the dog walked past her arm extended with food and shoved its head into her chest before collapsing at her feet.
“That's a good boy.” She stroked the fur, looking for broken skin and bones. A big chunk had
been taken out of the dog’s neck, and the back leg looked mangled. On closer inspection, though, nothing appeared broken, although several bite marks had penetrated the skin. She stroked the animal’s coat with her gloved hand while she continued to whisper soft endearments. A few minutes passed before she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She looked up at Chase. His hand held a large hunting knife.
Knife! Panic set in before rational thought defused the fear.
“What do you want to do?” He offered more than his simple words conveyed.
She looked at the dog, its eyes filled with pain, then at the seven-inch blade, which could quickly end the dog’s suffering. She met Chase’s eyes. “I can’t. I just can’t leave him.”
The brutal-looking instrument disappeared immediately, and Chase returned to the snowmobile.
Relief, then fear shortened her breath. How am I going to afford to do this?
Medical supplies, shots, food—it all cost money. Money she didn’t have.
I’ll make it work. Somehow, I have to make it work.
She didn’t think this situation was dire enough to contact her dad and ask for help. Mentally, she rummaged through the remaining store inventory, thinking what else she could put on eBay or sell to an antique dealer in Denver. Maybe she would make lots of money at the Christmas Bazaar. She certainly didn’t like the alternatives.
Chase reappeared with the insulated safety blanket that had been stored under the snowmobile seat and spread it on the road. With his help, she carefully lifted and placed the dog on the tarp. Too weak to move, the dog remained silent except for one weak whine when they jostled him accidentally.
Chase's concerned eyes met hers. “You hold the dog. I’ll drive. We’ll keep him between us for warmth.”
She nodded, straddled the sled, and waited for Chase to hand her the dog. Having Chase put the dog out of its misery might have been easier for the dog, and easier for her, but she couldn’t do it. Day in and day out, she’d watched her mother suffer, feeling helpless to do anything except bathe her and give her more medication when she asked. She kept waiting for her mom to ask her to end her life, but thankfully her mother never did.