Raven put in a Jon Bon Jovi CD. He admired the way she handled the big rig, her hands lightly placed on the wheel, confident in her ability.
“Quit it,” she said, her attention on the road. “Quit looking at me.”
“I can’t help it.” He wanted her. Always had. He knew now that what he had tried to feel for Sonya was based on her similarities to Raven. Both were capable, confident women. Both came from well-adjusted families, unlike his severely dysfunctional one. “You’ve grown into a strikingly, beautiful woman, Raven.”
She glanced at him, her eyes quickly returning to the road. “Don’t flatter me. It won’t work. I’m not sleeping with you.”
“You think that’s all I’m after? Your body?” He scoffed. “Don’t sell yourself short. You have so much more to offer.”
Her hands tightened on the wheel, the only outward sign of his words affecting her.
The sun rose over the hills, turning everything a brilliant white. Clean, pure, yet brutal in its beauty.
“Tell me what you have in those boxes back there.” He needed to get her to talk to him. They used to be able to talk about everything.
“Pottery.”
“Come on. It’s a long drive. Talk to me. How did you get into pottery? Are we talking molds, wheel-thrown items? Hand-building?”
She slid him a glance. He registered her surprise before she once again turned back to the road. “We could just enjoy the quiet and scenery.”
“I’d rather get to know who you are now.”
“Why? You’ll be leaving soon. Getting back to your life.”
He didn’t really have a life. Other than his pretend one. And he could pretend anywhere. “Humor me. What will it hurt?”
“Fine.” She sighed. “When I found out I was pregnant, I had to give up the scholarship to Berkeley. I enrolled at the University of Alaska Fairbanks instead. On a whim I took a pottery class. As it turned out, I had a knack.”
“Did you graduate?”
“What, because I was pregnant you assume that I never finished my education?”
“No. That isn’t it. But since you found your knack, I wanted to know if you took it further? That’s all.”
“Sorry. I’m a little touchy on the subject since so many people pressured me to quit and get a real job to support the both of us.” She shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal now, but he knew better.
“Who pressured you?”
“Everyone, except Tern and Grandma Coho.”
“Fiona?”
“She was the toughest. She wanted me to stay and work at the lodge. That way I could be with Fox every day.”
“How did you do it?”
“My teacher, Mrs. Bailey.” She smiled now, and it caused his heart to jump. “She believed in me so much she rented me the apartment over her garage for next to nothing and helped me with scholarships that supported us until I graduated with an arts degree. For repayment, she calls me in as a guest teacher a few times a semester, and I also do a summer class, where students come out to the lodge and we do Raku firings and the like.”
“You really enjoy it, don’t you?” When she looked at him in confusion he expanded, “I hear it in your voice, see it in your face, the love you have for your craft.”
“Yes. I do love it.” She gestured with her hands, lifting them off the wheel for a moment before returning them. “It’s hard to explain, and most people don’t understand, but to create something from the earth, something that is art yet has form and function, a simple casserole dish that has been molded, fired twice at extreme temperatures and comes through it stronger, more resilient, able to last centuries, thousands of years. It’s amazing.” She stopped and blushed. “I can get carried away.”
“Don’t apologize. We should all feel that way about what we do.”
“Do you?” She looked at him. “Do you feel that way?”
He took a moment to gather his thoughts. She’d been honest in her answers and it had shown as bright and pure as the sunlight hitting the snow around them. “I love it, yet, hate it too.” He laughed when she looked at him funny. “I know it doesn’t make sense. When everything is going right, it’s a rush, like a drug. But when it’s going bad, it can be very bad.”
“How bad?”
“Like bashing your head into a wall every day. Fighting with words that won’t form the way you want them to. Characters who refuse to cooperate. But the worst is the silence. When nobody wants to talk. When that happens, life seems like it’s over.” His voice had turned quiet at the end. He hadn’t meant to reveal so much.
“Is that the way it’s been lately?” she asked softly.
He’d known she’d see more than he wanted her to. He took a deep breath. “Yeah, lately it’s been tough.”
“Because of Earl’s death?”
Time for a change of subject. Maybe her idea of quiet and enjoying the scenery had more merit than he’d first given it credit. He didn’t want to bring Earl into their conversation. Anything to do with his father would ruin their day and any progress he might have made with Raven. “That and other things. I’ve had some life-altering experiences lately.” He laughed, knowing the sound came out sarcastic but he couldn’t help himself. “Stepping into a bear trap being one of them. Nothing like facing your own mortality to help you reevaluate your life.”
“So what have you learned?”
“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” He wasn’t ready to share what he’d come up with so far. And he knew without a doubt she wasn’t ready to hear it. He noticed they were getting closer to Fairbanks, coming up on Hagelbarger. “Do you think we could pull in for a minute?”
“Sure.” She slowed and hit her blinker.
“I was in a hurry when I landed at the airport. I only made one stop before heading to Chatanika.”
“Food Factory?”
He laughed. “You do know me well.” The words, while said in jest, seemed to sober her.
She turned onto Hagelbarger’s scenic overlook, one of Fairbanks’ prime make out places. Hills sat protective as Fairbanks nestled contently in the valley. In the winter, the Hagelbarger Lookout was the perfect place to watch the splay of Northern Lights dance across the sky. During the day, Fairbanks sparkled like a winter jewel. The University of Alaska stood on the hill to the east, the airport to the west, and the Chena River like a frozen ribbon meandering sleepily through town.
“You’ve missed it, haven’t you?” Raven asked.
He nodded. A lump in his throat. “I never thought I would. Hell, a few days ago this is the last place I ever wanted to be again.” He turned from the view and looked at her. “I’ve found there are things here that I’ve missed more than I realized.”
She couldn’t hold his gaze and glanced away, put the Suburban in gear, and merged back onto the Steese. They traveled in silence, Aidan taking in the sights, an ache in his chest.
Raven turned onto Airport Way, stopping at every stoplight on the way to the doctor’s office. Pulling into the Physician’s Plaza, she turned off the engine, jumped out of the SUV, and grabbed his crutches from the back.
He’d obviously said the wrong thing when they’d been overlooking the city. He’d pushed too hard, too fast. Just as he had last night. He’d done the same things with Sonya, and look how that had turned out. Time to learn from his mistakes. He opened his door as she came around with the crutches. The cold slapped him. With the sun shining so brightly, reflecting on the snow, it seemed warmer than it was. While they were in town, he needed to shop for a better winter coat.
“Thanks.” He took the crutches from her. She held the door open until he made his way clear, then she rushed to open the doctor’s door.
He stopped and looked down at her before entering. “I’m sorry if what I said upset you. But it was the truth.”
She tightened her lips but didn’t respond. He waited a heartbeat then entered the doctor’s office. Raven took control of the doctor visit, going up to the counter an
d signing him in. It didn’t take long before a nurse called his name. He stood, while Raven stayed seated.
“Are you coming?” he asked.
“No.” She looked up at him, her eyes hard. “I’m not your friend, your family or your wife. I’ll wait out here.”
The words stabbed at him repeatedly. Repetitive, like a bad record inside his head, each run-through tearing fibers from his heart. She was right. She was none of those things.
And he wished she were all of them.
CHAPTER NINE
Raven thumbed through a magazine. Her vision blurred as she blinked back tears. The hurt on Aidan’s face when she’d thrown those hurtful words at him, cut her deep. Why had she done it? Because he’d said he’d missed her?
She closed her eyes and laid her head back against the waiting room wall. What if he needed her in the exam room? To hold his crutches? Hold his hand if the leg was broken and had to be reset? By now the bone would have tried to heal, built a bridge that would have to be broken in order for the leg to heal right. They’d give him a shot to help with the pain, but…
No more buts. She’d needed to reestablish boundaries. Since she’d done such a great job of busting them down last night when she’d been moaning under him and grabbing his tight backside. She mentally groaned. She was going to kill Lynx for making her drive Aidan to town. They’d had a deal. She didn’t care about some damn injured eagle. Well, she did, but why did it have to be injured on the day the roads were finally cleared to travel to town? Was it fate? Was fate against her now too?
The door to the inner exam rooms opened and out hobbled Aidan, carrying the crutches. His leg was strapped in a walking medical boot, his face pinched with pain.
“What did the doctor say?” she asked, getting to her feet.
He reached in his pocket for his wallet, and without answering, headed to the counter and took care of the bill. She waited patiently, arms folded across her chest.
Aidan finished and, giving Raven only a glance, walked toward the exit. She followed. He stopped outside the back doors of the Suburban. She unlocked it and kept her lips buttoned shut. Obviously he wasn’t going to tell her what the doctor had said. Payback for not going into the exam room with him or because her thoughtless, spiteful words had hurt him? She didn’t like the idea that she had hurt him. She wasn’t a mean person. Just a scared one. Scared over what Aidan was making her feel. Memories that he’d resurrected.
She climbed into the Suburban and started it up, waiting for the idle to kick down before putting it in gear. She glanced at him. He stared out the windshield into the frozen trees. “I’m sorry,” she said. There was no response from him, other than the flexing of his jaw. “I didn’t mean to say those things.”
He turned to her, his eyes devoid of emotion. “Yes, you did. And you were right.”
Being right didn’t feel very good. “Are you going to be okay?” She didn’t know if she was asking about his leg or his feelings.
“I’ll be fine.” He turned back to the view out of the frosty window.
Not knowing what else to say, and afraid that whatever she said would make the situation worse, she put the vehicle in reverse and backed out of the parking lot. Since he’d walked out of the doctor’s office without using his crutches, she could only assume his leg wasn’t broken. But the medical boot was a concern. What did that mean? She’d also noticed the pain lines bracketing his mouth. Whatever had happened in that exam room hadn’t been comfortable for Aidan.
She turned back onto Airport Way and headed toward the Arctic Tern located in a cute, rustic log cabin near Pioneer Park.
“What happened to Alaskaland?” Aidan frowned looking at the large sign designating the entrance to one of the town’s main tourist attractions.
“A few years ago the city overhauled the park and changed the name.”
“What was wrong with the old name?”
“We’d all like to know that.” She pulled into the Arctic Tern’s well-cleared and well-kept parking lot and turned off the engine. It was only ten below, and as she didn’t plan to stay long, she didn’t bother plugging the SUV into the electrical outlets in front of each parking space.
Her sister ran a tight and profitable business. A wide-covered porch with benches graced the entrance. In summer, Tern would fill the area with overflowing flower pots, both hanging and squatting. Now, being November, Christmas decorations were already in place. Artificial Christmas trees strung with bright white lights stood as sentries at the doors, while glowing wired reindeer moved their heads to a timer. Soft holiday music piped through the speakers.
Raven opened the back of the Suburban and grabbed the first box. She turned and bumped into Aidan, almost dropping the heavy pottery. Pieces rattled as the box jostled.
“Sorry.” He took the box out of her hands, preventing her from dropping it to the icy ground. “Let me help.”
“I don’t want to take the chance of breaking anything.” She scowled, mentally going through what she had in this box and hoping she hadn’t already done just that. Handles on mugs and pitchers were very breakable, and she had many of those in this delivery. “What about your leg?”
“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry, I won’t break anything.” He muscled past her with the box.
She didn’t have much choice except to let him carry the box. She’d done that last night, and look at what had almost happened. “Fine. But you break it, you’ve bought it.” She grabbed another box and led the way.
He followed her up the wooden steps to the glass-etched door. Tern must have seen them, for she was there at the door opening it for them.
“I didn’t think I was going to see you until the end of the week,” she said, when Raven entered.
“I had to come into town,” Raven huffed out. She needed to put the box down before she dropped it herself. She also needed to pack them lighter. “Didn’t see the reason to waste a trip.” She went around the sales counter and through the door to the storeroom, setting the box on the large table in the center of the small room. Aidan did the same. She took one look at him and noticed the sweat on his forehead, the pain lines deeper around his mouth.
Sure he could handle it. Idiot.
“Take a seat before you fall down.” She pulled out a folding chair. Aidan fell into it. “I told you they were heavy.”
“I didn’t think they were that heavy. How did you carry that?”
“I’ve been doing it for years, and I didn’t just step into a bear trap and break a fever,” she snapped back.
Tern entered the room, sucking in her breath when she recognized Aidan. “You have a lot of balls showing up here.” She swivelled toward Raven and demanded, “What the hell are you doing with him?”
“Didn’t Mom call you?” She really didn’t want to go into explanations.
“Yeah, but it was busy so I let her call go to voicemail.”
“Great.” Raven sighed. “Earl’s dead. Aidan returned to take care of his things, stepped into a bear trap, Fox saved his life, we’re here seeing the doctor.”
“Hey ya, Tern. It’s really good to see you too.” Aidan pointed to Tern’s hair. “I like the red. Very becoming.”
Tern frowned and looked from Aidan to Raven. “Can I talk to you please? Alone.” Tern grabbed Raven’s arm and pulled her out of the storeroom, across the sales floor, and right out of the building to the parking lot. She must have been steaming, because she marched to the back of the Suburban without stopping for a coat. her only protection against the cold was a thin silk teal blouse. A very good color for her, which complemented her plum skirt and black killer knee-high boots.
“What are you doing with him?” she asked, grabbing one of the boxes.
“Your brother’s fault.” Raven picked up another box, explaining how she’d come to town with Aidan in tow, as they returned to the storeroom.
Aidan was still sitting where she’d left him, but he was holding a tea pot in his hand. “This is beautiful, Raven.
You made this?”
“Of course she did,” Tern said. “She’s an artist.” Tern went to grab it from his hands, but Aidan pulled back, holding the tea pot next to his chest.
“No, I want this.”
“What?” Raven asked.
“I want to buy it.”
“You can’t buy it.”
“Why not? Isn’t it for sale? Aren’t these all for sale?”
“Y-yes,” she sputtered. But she didn’t want Aidan buying her tea pot. She loved to make tea pots, but they were labor intensive. A lot of time and energy, thought and love went into each one. This particular one was a favorite. The glaze had turned out exceptionally well, running into greens and purples over a midnight blue base. To her it was like the dancing of the Northern Lights.
“Then I want to buy it.” He leaned over, looking through the items in the box. “Do you have any mugs that go with it?”
She did, but didn’t want to say so. The thought of Aidan drinking out of one of her mugs, making tea in her tea pot when he left here and returned home, disturbed her.
Tern, always willing to make a sale, rummaged through the box and produced the four matching mugs.
“I just need the one. There’s only me.”
“Sorry, they come as a set,” Tern said. “If you want one, you’ll have to buy all four.”
That wasn’t true. Each mug was individually priced, and Raven bet Aidan knew it.
“Done.” He pulled out his wallet. “Can you wrap them up for me?”
“Of course.” Tern took his credit card and the tea pot. “Want to grab those mugs for me, Raven?” While it was a question, Tern wasn’t excepting an answer.
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