by Seton, Cora
“Oh.” Clearly, she thought he had another sort of massage in mind. He did, but he wasn’t going to tell her so. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
She bit her lip when he touched the first toe. It was blistered and bruised.
“Does that hurt?”
“Some.”
“Sorry. I’ll be as gentle as possible. Let me know if it hurts too much.”
She nodded. And he went to work, carefully, tenderly, massaging her feet. Damn, she had beautiful feet. He’d do everything in his power to make sure they healed properly.
“Do you have a family?” She asked, fishing for details.
“Yep, about twelve thousand on them live on the White Mountain Apache Reservation. Arizona. My granny raised me and my five sisters there.”
Her eyebrows raised. Hell, was she surprised he was Apache? “So…you live with your grandmother?”
He laughed. “I’m not a total loser. I left Granny’s place when I was eighteen. I have my own farm, but I’m not there often. Granny’s farmhouse is half a mile away.” He shook his head. “She’s getting up there in age, but is still feisty and strong. In a few days she’ll be climbing up the ladder to get all her friggin’ luminaries out of the attic. She nearly burned her house down last Christmas with those things. Damn, I miss her.”
“That’s so sweet.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “I bet she misses you, too.”
He switched feet. “She does. I’m the light of her life.”
She chuckled. It was a warm, rich, womanly sound. He liked it. “Not too conceited are you, Mr. Whitehorse?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “Just saying it like it is. Where are you from? Occasionally, I hear a soft Southern lilt in your voice.”
“Dern.” She smiled, pushing back into her chair to get comfortable. “I was born in Kentucky and spent years trying to get rid of my accent.”
“Why would you change? I like it.” A whole helluva lot.
“I ran into people in DC who think you’re stupid if you are a woman with a Southern accent. I didn’t want to be underestimated. But sometimes it sneaks out when I’m nervous.”
That wasn’t a good sign. He gave her foot a squeeze. “Are you scared of me?”
“No! If anything, I’m afraid of me, who I am supposed to be.”
He wiggled the pinky toe. It was darker than the rest. He’d have to keep an eye on it so that she didn’t lose it. “Be yourself. I like who you are. Accent and all.”
Her lips parted. “You don’t know me.”
“In my work, I’m trained to be a great judge of character. I’ve dealt with all kinds—good, bad, ugly. You, Holly, are a beautiful, kind, and sensitive woman.” He rubbed the top of her foot. “You are smart, brave, and so damned determined.”
“How do you know all that?”
He cocked his head toward the chair where Lucy was sleeping. “They told me. Dogs don’t lie.”
She laughed and the tension released from her shoulders. The frown lines disappeared. He had the sudden desire to do that for her all the time. Like every minute.
“They don’t lie, do they? Lucy hated…” She cut herself off, not willing to give him more. He wished she trusted him. “Well, she is a good judge of character too.”
“You have quite a bond with her. How’d you become a musher?”
“Short story? My life was in a bad place, and Lucy helped me. More than that, she saved me. I know I shouldn’t complain, especially the way we lived. Plenty of folks have worse times, but I wasn’t used to… I mean…who could get used to that? It was so horrible…” She sucked in a big breath. “Sorry. I don’t talk about this. I usually try to keep my past buried.” She rolled her neck to ease the tension creeping back in.
“Holly.” She glanced at him from under her long hair. “That buried shit isn’t going anywhere. Trust me. I’ve seen guys run from it, drink it away, and blow it out of their heads.” He flinched. Too many friends had committed suicide. “None of that works. You need to talk to someone, to get it out of your mind, or it will always be there, festering like an infected wound.”
“I can’t.”
“I’m a good listener.”
He pressed the ball of her foot, hoping to achieve a sigh of pleasure out of the deal. She chewed her lip instead, apparently too keyed up to thoroughly enjoy his efforts.
“You are a good listener. More than that, you’re a saint. Otherwise, you would have left the cabin when I had my meltdown. I, um, have panic attacks sometimes. I thought I was over them, but apparently not. I should probably have warned you earlier.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Not yet, anyway. Go on, let the shit out. Someone hurt you, and they should be punished.”
“No!” She twisted the napkin in her lap. “No one can know. If my story gets to the wrong people…”
She didn’t finish. What would happen? Was her life in danger? Dammit! He wished she’d tell him so he could go pound the kidneys out of the guy who hurt her. He clenched his fists to keep from demanding the answer. She needed to talk on her own terms.
“I won’t put you in any danger,” he promised.
“My ex-husband isn’t a nice man.” The napkin was becoming a shredded mess in her lap. She didn’t seem to notice.
“He threatened you.”
“Yes.” Her voice was less than a whisper, her lips barely moving. “He’s more than not nice, he’s powerful. One of the most influential men in Kentucky. My parents actually thought I’d married up and found a real catch. If they only knew.”
Who was the bastard? The asshole didn’t deserve to be walking the streets free when Holly was hiding for her life in Alaska. “Give me a name. I promise your problems will disappear.”
Her eyebrow crooked. “A magic wand? I wish it was possible.”
Oh, it was possible, but it would be more like a bat than a wand. He couldn’t go into details with her. Again, the less she knew the better.
“I don’t want to talk about him. He’s taken enough of my life already. I’m moving forward. I want to live.”
He gritted his molars. “I understand.”
“Do you? For so long I felt small and invisible. I lost myself, Ty. Completely. Now I’m here in Alaska doing my darndest to find Holly Colton. Only this time, I want her to be a better person. Free. Brave. Smart. All those things you said about me? I’m working toward her.”
He lifted her hand and cupped his cheek with her palm. Her eyes glowed with strength and determination. If only she could see what he saw. “You’re tougher than you think.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not yet. I’m a fragile work-in-progress. Next year you’ll see tough when I race the Iditarod.”
Her words twisted in his heart. He wasn’t going to be around next year. It would be a gift from God if he got to stay one more day with her. Gently, he put her feet back down so she wouldn’t see the way he felt.
Taking the dishes to the sink, he said, “The Iditarod? You must be crazy, lady.”
Her chuckle warmed him and did all sorts of unfair things to a man who wouldn’t be hanging around.
“I know, right? My hand was in a cast the day I met Lucy at the pet store. She was a ten-week old furbaby with intelligent, sad eyes. We connected right there. It was weird and awesome all at once. I needed her, and she needed me. I doubted my husband would let me keep her, but he was in a rare seeking-forgiveness mood, and I took advantage. When I found out Huskies are natural sled dogs, it hit me—she was as trapped in a foreign world just as I was. I vowed to set us both free. Lucy was the first dog I ever had.”
“Seriously? No dogs as a child? You’re a natural with them.” He sat beside her, scooting his chair even closer. He was having a devil of a time being too far away from her.
She shook her head. “My mother put me on the beauty pageant circuit when I turned eight. We traveled all over the state, competing. I couldn’t have pets because no one would be around to take care of them. Winning Miss Kentucky was a giant whirlwin
d. I didn’t have time for a dog.”
“No, shit? I’ve never met a beauty queen before.” He put his hand on her knee, drawn to her like she had some wonky magnetic pull that only worked on him. What would Preston have said about that?
His hand on her knee didn’t seem to bother her. She played with his fingers, tracing the tendons, drawing invisible designs on his knuckles.
“I sort of had to do the pageant thing. My family was dirt poor. We did fundraisers to pay for the pageant costs, so I could compete for college scholarships. My parents couldn’t afford to pay for a four-year university.”
“Where’d you go to college?”
Holly was frowning again, those wrinkles digging into her cheeks. “I never went. I met…” She stopped short of saying his name. “The man who would be my husband during the Kentucky State political campaign and that was that. Fate is a strange thing. If I’d never won that dumb crown, he wouldn’t have noticed me. I would have been plain ol’ Holly, just another college student. Happy.”
Political campaign. Who was the bastard? Ty wanted to break his face. “Did you have a major in mind?”
“Sure. I’d have gone to veterinary school. I never got to have a pet, but I dreamed of taking care of them and saving their lives.”
“You would have been an amazing vet.”
Her eyes welled. “Thank you. Water under the bridge now.”
He couldn’t stay calm any longer. “That friggin’ asshole didn’t deserve you. Tell me who he is, Holly. Please. He shouldn’t get away with hurting you and stealing your life.”
“No, Ty. I can’t tell anyone. He said if I did he’d…he’d…”
The cry that escaped her lips was a dagger to his gut. He was on his feet and pulling her into his arms before either one of them caught another breath.
Chapter Nine
‡
Holly wasn’t sure why she dumped her ugly baggage on him. Who does that? Then again, he was the first person who seemed to want to know the truth. The first person to really listen to her. Friends back in DC closed their eyes and ears to the abuse. They had to know what was going on, but everyone was afraid of Ronald. No one stepped in to help. By doing nothing, they gave Ronald permission to continue being a…not nice guy. She was so tired of keeping it all locked inside.
Ty was right, it did help to talk about her past. She was feeling braver already, especially when he pulled her into his muscular arms and looked at her like she was driving him crazy. Those eyes were midnight blue, dark, and dangerous. The man was every shade of sexy.
He cupped her jaw, sending goose bumps across her scalp, down her neck, tingling through her spine. She didn’t have to ask him to kiss her this time. He did that all on his own. It didn’t start out soft like the first kiss had. Nope, this was full of need—his, hers, did it matter? She wanted to taste him. She drove her tongue inside his mouth, pulling back, licking tasting, experiencing like never before.
A deep rumble started inside his impossibly muscled chest. The sound made her weak and strong at the same time. As if she was the one in charge for the first time in her life. Who knew a kiss could be like this? She pulled back and ran her hands over his stubbled cheeks to his square jaw. He watched her, not moving, letting her experiment, feel him. Goodness, she wished she could take his shirt off. Did she dare? Slowly, she dragged her fingers over his sinewy neck, across his collarbones, around the largest pecs she’d ever seen, and skimmed the best abs on the planet. Oh yeah, she dared.
Taking hold of the edge of his shirt, she lifted. He was far too tall to get the tee over his head. He ducked down so she could get the task done. Then she gaped.
He was beautiful. Rugged. Chiseled. Each muscle was defined as if he was a sculpture of a Native American god. He was not soft anywhere—she looked down. Yep, he was super hard there, too. Ohhh, she wanted to touch. She didn’t dare reach down and take him in her hand, well, by the swell in his camouflage pants, she’d need two hands. The idea thrilled her. She traced a scar beneath his sternum. What caused it? There was another scar near his perfect innie belly button. She pressed her middle finger to it. It reminded her of a bullet wound. It was probably something silly, like a pebble stuck there when he was a kid and fell off his bike.
“Lots of scars.”
“Hazards of the job,” he said.
“Yes, I hear being a SEAL is dangerous,” she joked.
“Sometimes.”
Whatever. She didn’t really care what sort of work he did in real life. It bothered her, though, that he wouldn’t tell her the truth after she’d told him about her scary past. Well, at least some of the details. She couldn’t tell him everything. Ronald was dangerous.
“Your Navy SEAL job. In Alaska?” She prodded, giving him the opportunity to come clean.
“Yep.”
Really. How stupid did he think she was? Where was his ship? His team? She trusted him, why didn’t he trust her? What could be so bad about his job he needed to lie about it? She knew he was a good man because she was a good judge of character as well.
Hadn’t she pegged Ronald as a mean drunk? She should have listened to her instincts.
Ronald could be charismatic, charming, and cute, but when he drank? He was the devil. Her mistake was to believe her ex when he said he needed her to change his life and only she could save him. Right. Why she bought that, she’ll never know. She learned the hard way that a person can’t change anyone else. Ronald never really wanted to be saved. He wanted a trophy wife to propel him on the ballots. She did her duty until she’d became nothing more than a mean drunk’s punching bag.
But Ty wasn’t anything like Ronald. He cared for her, treated her with respect and with kindness. He actually listened to her pitiful history and didn’t judge. He was perfect, except for that tiny flaw. Unfortunately, lying was a deal breaker.
She patted Ty’s exquisite stomach. “Well. I guess that’s that.” She sighed and stepped away from the way too beautiful man. “I want you, Ty. Everything on me, in me, is screaming for you. If things were different, I’d unzip those camo pants and have my way with you. Right here, right now.” She smiled. “Wow, I’ve never said anything like that out loud.”
Why was he staring at her like that? He could say…something.
“You make me feel sexy. Brave. And so free. It’s like I am coming alive.” She squeezed his bicep and felt another zing of arousal. Mistake. No touching. She dropped her hand to her side.
“But…?” he growled.
“But you have to see this will never work. I can’t be with a man like you.” She turned her back on him.
He cupped her elbow and gently pulled her back. That was just another thing she liked about him—he didn’t yank her around.
“A man like me?” His blue eyes were swirling with green and golden confusion.
“Right. You must have your reasons, but I can’t sleep with anyone who isn’t honest with me. I’ve come too far to go right back—”
Static came through his radio followed by a loud voice filled the cabin. “Are you assholes there? Pick up.”
Ty held perfectly still. There was no answer, only more static on the radio.
The voice boomed, “You sons of bitches were supposed to radio in. Did you find anything at the crash site, or not? Over.”
Ty released her arm and ran to pick up the radio.
She followed him, walking carefully on her sore toes. “Crash site! I was there. I saw the helicopter go down, Ty. It scared the moose out of the bushes. Do you want me to talk to that guy?”
He gave her a short shake of his head, but his attention was riveted to the radio. He turned the volume up. His nostrils flared and his body seemed to be on full alert. What was going on?
“You bastards better not be hiding from the weather. If I don’t hear from you pronto, I’ll personally hunt you down after the blizzard and put a bullet in your heads. Over.”
One more ripple of static went through the radio, and then it went de
ad.
Ty was breathing heavily, like a man trying not to hit something. Holly gripped his arm. “Who was that?”
He faced her. The muscles in his jaw were flexing. His nostrils still flared. Wow, he looked p.o.’d. But she didn’t take a step back or go lock herself in the bathroom. Ronald would’ve taken his issues—whatever they were—out on her. Ty was not Ronald.
As if to prove her point, he reached out and touched her hair, letting the long strands run through his fingers. “That was Milton Crow. A terrorist wanted by the Navy. He’s the reason I’m here.”
“A terrorist? That means…” She covered her mouth. “You really are a SEAL?”
“You didn’t believe me?” He ran a finger down the bridge of her nose, gliding over the bump Ronald gave her.
“And the helicopter I saw crash in the woods…?”
“I was flying it. Crow’s men shot it out of the sky with a RPG. My buddy was killed because of those bastards.” His face twisted in pain.
“Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry. Here I was boring you with my troubles and you…” She hugged him. “You were grieving. To lose a buddy must have been horrible for you.”
“He was just a kid. It was his first time out.” He blew a harsh breath through his teeth. “He shouldn’t have been there. I’ve fought Crow and his men before and know how dangerous the sonofabitch is, but Preston? He was an IT guy researching radar anomalies. When we flew near a closed facility called HFAFR, radar, satellite, internet, intranet, everything went down.”
She pulled back. “I know! My cell phone went weird too. I haven’t been able to get a signal since before the moose attached.”
Ty nodded. “It’s Crow. This area is a dead zone. No comms going in, or out.”
“The SEALs don’t know what happened to you?”
He shook his head. “Not yet, but they will. My teammates will figure out how to break through Crow’s block to contact me. My buddy, Charlie, is a comms and computer wizard. The window to talk might be short before Crow shuts it down again, but all I need is a few seconds to communicate Crow’s location to the admiral.”
