by Vella Munn
“She went to a number of doctors. Dad didn’t say much but he started asking me to make sure Mom took her medication. I accompanied her to appointments if he couldn’t because otherwise she wouldn’t go.”
“I don’t know much about depression. Is it strictly mental or is there a physical component?”
Good question. One that showed he cared. “The experts can’t point to a single contributing factor. Every sufferer is different.” She tucked the skirt around her legs. “My maternal grandmother told me she had a brother who had periods when he acted like Mom did. With him it came and went.”
“But your mother was always depressed?”
Bruce had planted himself between the two of them and was trying to study both humans.
“There were ups and downs but yes. The medications—there were always side effects.” She spotted movement at the base of the trees behind Nate. “I think—is that a fox?”
Nate looked where she was pointing then went back to studying her. “What happened to your mother?”
“She committed suicide when I was twenty-three.” Even though she’d made her peace with the finality of the words, for the first time in several years her eyes burned.
“I’m so sorry, for both your mother and you.”
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“For caring.”
“Of course I do,” he muttered. “How did she die, if it doesn’t hurt too much to talk about it.”
She slipped her hands between her legs and started worrying the skirt. “Pills. She was on so many.”
He scooted his chair closer and placed his hands over her knees. Took her thoughts in a new direction.
“I hope you weren’t the one who found her.”
“No.” Darn the lump in her throat. Where was all this emotion coming from? “I’d moved back to Missoula after college but had my own place. Dad had tried calling her and when she didn’t answer he asked the police to check on her.” Male hands on her knees were starting to come between her and painful memories. Making the telling easier.
He squeezed. “How did you find out?”
Looking into those grey eyes of his was complicated. Stalling, she went in search of more movement around the trees.
“You didn’t come here to hear this. Besides, I’m hungry.”
“We’ll get to that.” He squeezed again. “How did you learn your mother was dead?”
Her gaze resolutely on the setting and her nerves surrendering to the assault on them caused by his touch, she told him about the phone call from law enforcement.
“Wait.” His hold on her knees tightened. “Your dad didn’t tell you?”
“It wasn’t like that. He was out of town on business. The police tried to get back in touch with Dad. When they couldn’t, they contacted me. I made—a lot of decisions that day.”
“I’m sorry.”
Desperate to keep her emotions under control, she pressed her legs together until her hands were trapped between them. It might have worked if Nate hadn’t chosen that moment to start massaging her knees.
Unnerved, she stared at what he was doing. He acknowledged her stare with one of his own but didn’t stop. She had to be careful not to read too much into what was taking place between them. Neither did she want to miss any messages he might be sending out.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “Why couldn’t the cops reach your dad?”
Suddenly everything boiled up inside her, compelling her to stand and escape Nate’s hands, Nate’s hard questions. She didn’t face him until she was standing by the fire pit. Hands rammed deep in the skirt pockets, she noted he was no longer sitting but was allowing her to keep distance between them.
What was he seeing in her, maybe a frightened animal trying to make sense of the situation it found itself in? This uncertainty was foreign to her. She acted, she didn’t react.
Until now.
“All right,” she said around her now raw throat. “For all intents and purposes my parents were separated. They lived in the same big house, each with their own wing. Of course Dad paid the bills. I came by every day and did most of the housework. My parents didn’t love each other. What I felt for them probably isn’t what most children feel for their parents.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, his features tightened. Something, anger maybe, darkened them.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He stroked Bruce’s head. “What did you feel for your mother?”
She would go on, be the strong woman she took pride in. Hopefully the time would come when he trusted her with his past. When he’d tell her about his parents.
And if he didn’t?
It would hurt.
“A lot of the time I considered myself Mom’s caregiver. I didn’t get as angry as Dad did but I’m not sure I ever truly understood why she couldn’t get it together.”
“You didn’t want the responsibility.”
“It wasn’t like that,” she snapped.
“I’m not saying I’m blaming you. What child doesn’t want normalcy? I did.”
There it was again, a glimpse of a layer to him being pulled away. “I apologize for sounding defensive. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over wishing things had been different.” She filled her lungs. “I carried a lot of guilt for not being able to save her. Maybe if I’d been living with them…”
“You wouldn’t have had a life of your own.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“When she died, you must have felt as if a load had been lifted from you.” He came closer. “Part of you was relieved because she’d found peace. From that day forward your life didn’t have to revolve around her.”
He’d laid her bare. Stripped away all the psychobabble. Spoken the truth.
The tears she hadn’t shed earlier started to fall. It didn’t matter that she was ruining her mascara.
“Easy, easy,” he muttered as he wrapped her in his arms. “Don’t think. Just feel.”
How had he gotten this wise? “I didn’t mean to—”
“Hush. It’s all right. I wonder if you believed you had to hold everything inside because that’s what your dad insisted on.”
She sniffed. “What makes you say that?”
“You were his heir apparent. You knew what it took to live up to his expectations.”
“What was it?” she asked hoping to get herself back under control. “You were around while I was growing up?”
“No. What was it like? He never talked about what he felt?”
“Not exactly. He was quick to let me know when someone disappointed him. That made him hard to work with. He lost a number of employees because of his attitude.”
“But you didn’t have a choice. You had to keep your emotions locked away.”
Where was his wisdom coming from? “I got pretty good at it.”
“But there are repercussions.”
“Yes, there are. I just hate acknowledging them.”
“They’re safe here.”
Safe. In his arms. “I didn’t expect that,” she admitted and pushed back a little from his strong chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever be, all right.”
“All right,” she whispered. This dumping of her emotions was so strange. “Maybe the floodgates are a combination of knowing my dock’s going to get fixed and being hungry.”
“Maybe.” He wiped under her right eye with a rough finger. “Why don’t you go inside and get a jacket? Move the chairs over to the fire. I’ll start the charcoal and get the potatoes going. I brought something for us to drink.”
Not long ago she’d been making decisions that impacted a number of people. Now she embraced the simple fact that Nate knew she was going to get cold. Despite his logical plans, however, she wasn’t ready to move away from him.
“Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, staying just far enough apart that her breasts didn’t brush him. “I guess I needed that.”
He was lowering his head, bringing his mouth closer to hers. Lightheaded, she rose onto her toes and met him half way. His hands slid down her back, reached the swell of her buttocks. He didn’t try to pull her closer, which, maybe, was why everything felt right and safe. Later, maybe, she’d want more.
Lips like wine slid over hers. She had to tighten her hold to keep from swaying. Either she’d closed her eyes or it had suddenly gone dark. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was kissing a man she’d met only a few days ago and it felt absolutely, completely perfect.
Her nipples hardened. She stopped trying to keep them from touching him because he deserved to know his impact on her. The time had come for physical honesty. To take new risks. With his mouth still stealing her sanity, he drew her against him so she felt his body’s reaction. She arched into his erection, accepted his hardness.
Locked within the emotional cave they’d created, she slipped her tongue between his teeth. He opened his mouth a little, welcomed her. When she faltered, he took over, filling her mouth with his own searching tongue.
She knew chaste kisses. She’d always insisted on them when things were just starting between a man and herself, but everything was different tonight. The old boundaries were gone, replaced by fierce hunger. Her body ached, hurt, demanded.
Then he started to pull up on the flimsy skirt and cooling air stroked her legs. Shocked into sanity, she planted her palms against his chest and pushed back.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered even though she wasn’t. “I got a little carried away.”
“So did I.”
“You, ah, you were going to feed me.”
Chapter Thirteen
HE’D COME CLOSE to losing it.
Nate spread the charcoal. He’d already put the potatoes on but it would be at least a half hour before he started cooking the steaks. Alisha had slipped a jacket over her shoulders and moved the lawn chairs close to the fire pit. Before tending to the barbeque, he’d placed several dry pine rounds on the campfire. Hopefully she was close enough to it to stay warm.
Her dress was killing him. The only thing he knew or cared about it was that the fabric was soft and glided over her curves. He’d debated asking if she’d chosen it because it fit her so well but that was the same as asking if she intended to seduce him. If that had been her intention, she wouldn’t have told him about her mother’s suicide would she? Instead she would have chosen a seductive subject.
His mouth still carried her imprint, and his groin still ached, which was why he hadn’t immediately shown her the bottle of wine he’d bought at the overpriced resort store. He needed to try to turn this date into something he could handle.
“I hope white wine is all right,” he said as he handed her a glass he’d found in her kitchen. “I didn’t have much choice.”
She lifted the glass to the mouth he’d invaded earlier and sipped. “You didn’t have to do that. I have some here.”
“I’m tonight’s chef. I wanted to go all the way.”
When she chuckled, he figured she was thinking about the bagged salad makings he’d dumped in a bowl but maybe she didn’t know any more about how to get the conversation started in a safe direction than he did.
“You’re warm enough?”
“Yep. I knew better than to wear what I am. This altitude and time of the year, it always gets cold at night.”
“The dress looks nice.”
“Nice?” She studied him from under her lashes. “Between you and me, I seldom have the opportunity to wear something like this and yet occasionally I can’t resist the urge.” She stroked the fabric over her legs. “My idea of dress up. A little frilly and feminine.”
He sat and watched the fire. At least he’d had the sense to move the chair to a safe distance from her. “If you want to talk about your mom some more—”
“I don’t. I pretty much tore that subject apart.” She rested her heels on one of the rocks that defined the fire pit. If the skirt wasn’t ankle length, he would have glimpsed much more than was wise. What was it about hints of a feminine body that got to him?
Yes, feminine. No longer the head of a successful business but a woman spending an evening with a man. Him. Soaking up the fire’s heat and waiting for the stars to come out.
“What about your mother?” she asked. “Is she alive?”
Careful. Don’t step into any landmines. “Yes. She lives in Chicago with her husband.”
“I take it your parents are divorced.”
It was much more complicated than that, but he had no intention of risking ruining the evening and maybe everything by explaining.
“I guess she’s happy there,” he said. “All those people jammed together…”
She turned her attention to the lake. “I’m with you. I didn’t realize how much I missed being here. The solitude speaks to me.”
To him, Lake Serene represented a change of scene from northern California where he’d worked and lived for several months before accepting this job. He’d done a little fishing, met some interesting people, and now that the snow was mostly gone, he was looking forward to exploring the back country on his bike. Once he’d checked out the immediate surroundings, he’d venture into some of the other mountains Montana was famous for. The possibility had been growing on him recently. Maybe he’d ask if she wanted to accompany him.
“It’s quieter here than at the resort,” he said.
She slouched and rested the back of her head against the chair. “Tell me more about your family. What about your—”
“I have a younger brother. Jeff got engaged a few months ago.”
“How much younger?”
He had to get her talking about fishing or osprey or checking out the Going-To-The-Sun highway together, something without the potential to ruin things between them.
“Two years.”
Her laugh separated him from anything except her presence. Her eyes were at half-mast and yet he had no doubt she was focused on him.
“What do you think of his fiancé?”
“I haven’t met her.”
“Oh. I think—I’ve always thought that if I had a sibling, even a brother, that person would be my best friend.”
“I love Jeff.” His beer was getting warm from holding it so tight. “We just live very different lives.”
She straightened. “Do you think he’s ready to be a husband?”
He wasn’t sure and yet he understood his brother’s need to belong to someone.
“I don’t tell him what to do. That’s how we stay friends, by staying out of each other’s lives.”
“Oh.”
Wondering if she realized this was the second time she’d said the word recently, he finished his beer and reached into the cooler. He knew how to hold his own when the conversation revolved around motorcycles, sports, cars, and other guy things. Wallowing around in emotions was another story, one he wasn’t comfortable with.
“What about you?” he asked. “Have you been married?”
“No.” She seemed to shudder but maybe he’d imagined it. “With my parents’ marriage as example, I’m not sure that’s for me.”
He relaxed and yet he didn’t. He wasn’t interested in hooking up with a woman whose overriding goal was to wear a wedding ring. He’d met a few like that and had broken things off as soon as he realized they wanted to know the real him, something he’d never been able to do. At the same time, he wished her parents’ relationship hadn’t soured her on the institution. Going through life alone wasn’t easy. He knew.
He opened his second and last-for-the-evening beer. “What about children?”
“Wow.” She took a sip. “You really want to know? All right.” She raked her free hand through her hair. “My biological clock is ticking. I just don’t know how I can fit a baby into the life I’m living.”
“Because of the business?”
“I’m the CEO and janitor.” She smiled. “Well hardl
y ever the janitor. But I wear so many hats. There is something I’d love to do more of if I could kick off the traces.”
“You need to give some of those responsibilities to someone else.”
Her attention slid to the low flames and glowing coals. Her features seemed to sag a little and her shoulders slumped. He easily read her body language, something he’d never figured he was good at.
She sighed. “That’s been on my mind a lot lately. All right. My turn. Do you have an ex somewhere? What about children?”
He’d always been careful not to burden any woman with a child he wouldn’t be around to raise and felt ill-equipped to do. “No on both scores.”
“You’re a good-looking man with an almost recession-proof skill. Women would consider you a catch.”
Catch? He wasn’t sure how he felt about being considered something a woman could hook and reel in. Good-looking? He couldn’t wrap his mind around that. Maybe her wine was doing the talking.
“I’m sorry. That was dumb of me to say, even though I’m right about you being able to do something people will always be willing to pay for.”
She admired him for being a plumber? He was proud of what he did for a living and kept up with changes in the industry, but he’d met enough people who thought there was something funny about plumbing that he usually didn’t talk about it.
“You said there’s something you wish you had more time for,” he said. “What is it?”
The way she shook her head, he wondered if her mind had started to wander. Could she have been thinking about him? “I’d love to help people with modest incomes find homes they can afford.” She pointed toward Doc’s cabin. “Assisting Doc’s daughter gave me a great sense of satisfaction. Then Carolyn told a co-worker and that woman begged me to do the same thing for her.” She shrugged. “Word started getting around. I’ve been doing about one such deal a month for a couple of years. There isn’t a lot of money in it for me, but I don’t care.”
“I can tell you don’t.”
“It—listen. I love that sound.”
He frowned.
“The wind in the trees. That’s one of my absolutely favorite sounds.”
Now that she’d drawn his attention to it, he noticed the whispery mutterings high above. One thing about his bike, it made so much noise it drowned out wherever he was.
