“You’re playing with fire, Hanna.”
His acknowledgment of their attraction sucked the moisture from her mouth. “I like the heat.”
Something flickered in the steely depths of his gray eyes. Desire? Challenge? His eyelids swooped shut in a blink that erased the emotion as effectively as a cloth clears a dry-erase board.
“Stop it, Hanna,” he said.
She studied his face, the bone structure that was as harsh as his attitude. “I’ve been doing some thinking lately, about why God is drawing me to you. I think you’re afraid to open up to anyone, especially a woman.”
His lips parted in protest.
“And I’m good at drawing people out. You need me.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t need anyone.” His bass voice rumbled with conviction.
“You think that, but God knows differently. And so do I.”
“Why can’t you leave this alone?”
“Why can’t you take a chance?”
He looked away, his body stiffening in stubborn resistance. Finally, he started at her in an open challenge. “You keep this up, you’re going to get hurt.”
Her lips twitched. “I’m a big girl.”
His eyes brushed over her figure. An involuntary reaction, she realized. As if he was agreeing with her previous statement. She smothered a grin. He liked what he saw, whether he wanted her to know it or not.
With a disgruntled huff, he turned and left the office, and Hanna freed her barely contained smile.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Looks like it’s you and me,” Hanna said.
She watched Micah take a survey of the guests: a family of six, a young couple, and two college roommates. They assembled in natural groups of two in front of the canoes, leaving Micah and Hanna together.
He harrumphed as he picked up one end of the canoe.
Hanna grabbed the other end, and they toted it to the shore of String Lake. After a briefing on canoe handling, the groups of two settled in their boats, with Micah and Hanna leading the pack.
Across the lake, Mount Moran rose from the earth like a big volcanic cone. Hanna took in the sight, anticipating the challenges ahead. Both the challenge of the climb and the challenge of breaking down Micah’s resistance. She was hoping to draw him closer in the next three days. He was pretty much stuck with her, and she intended to take full opportunity of it.
The bow of the canoe sliced silently through the water with the help of their paddles. She and Micah worked in tandem, each experienced with handling the watercraft. When they gained a lead, they pulled their paddles from the water and waited for the others to catch up.
Already the July morning promised a scorching day, and Hanna made a note to herself to slosh some water on her clothes before she started the climb. As the other groups neared, she and Micah began paddling once again. Laughter floated to them from the other canoes as the brothers and sisters of the Nettleworth family teased one another.
Jeff, one of the college boys, begged to trade partners, claiming Dave was going to drown them both. He made his preference for a partner clear. “Come on, Hanna, be my partner. Dave can’t paddle, and he’s ugly to boot.”
Hanna just shook her head and laughed. Dave was far from ugly. It was going to be a lively three days.
When they reached the portage to Leigh Lake, Hanna saw a bald eagle watching from its perch on Boulder Island. “Look.” She pointed out the bird to Micah and watched him pause in appreciation of the sight.
As they paddled on, Hanna’s mind turned to the lodge. “Did you notice I had a lock put on the office door?”
“Single-bolt or deadbolt?”
“Single. I wanted a thumb-turn on the lock in case the keys got lost. At least then we could break in the window and open the door.”
He grunted his approval.
“The way Gram’s losing things lately, that’s a real possibility.” She pulled the paddle from the water and let the canoe glide on Micah’s strokes alone. “Dad took her for tests last week and, so far, they don’t look good. They ruled out other causes of dementia, and next they’re going to do some kind of interview and cognitive testing. Alzheimer’s is looking more likely.”
He switched his paddle to the other side. “She definitely has the signs.”
She knew Micah wasn’t one to gloss over the facts, but a word of encouragement would have been nice. She turned in her seat to face him. “Sheesh, tell me what you really think,” she said.
His biceps bulged with each stroke. His eyes met hers, then darted away. “I say what I mean and mean what I say. It’s who I am.”
She let the words take root. He was one who saw things negatively; she was one who saw things positively. Her dad had always compared her to Tigger from Winnie the Pooh. If she was like Tigger, Micah was like—she stifled a giggle. Unsuccessfully.
That got his attention. His brows furrowed over serious eyes. “What?”
“I just thought of a nickname for you. Eeyore.” She giggled again.
“Who’s that?”
“You don’t know who Eeyore is? In Winnie the Pooh, the donkey.” He’s all doom and gloom, you know, pessimistic.”
His lips curled down. “I prefer to call it realism.”
He would. It was a fundamental difference in the way they saw things. She looked for the silver lining; he looked for the rain cloud. “We’re very different, you and I.”
Meeting her stare, he replied, “Exactly.”
Her stomach quivered with his look. All he had to do was look at her, and she was helpless to stop the reaction that jolted through her body. She hoped he felt it too. “Think what a good influence we’d be on each other.”
He pulled the paddle effortlessly though the water. “You can teach me how to look at life through rosy lenses, and I can teach you how to pull your own weight.” He glanced pointedly at the paddle resting on her lap.
She turned back around and put the paddle to work. “Don’t think you’re off the hook.”
She heard him grumble something unintelligible, which only fed the smile on her face.
Later, as they tied up their canoe at the base of Falling Ice Glacier, the group gaped in awe at the massive mountain, clicking pictures with automatic cameras. They sloshed water on their clothes in preparation for the next part of the trip, a thirty-five-hundred-foot climb in less than two miles. Not only was the climb steep, but there was no discernible trail.
Dave and Jeff went out of their way trying to help Hanna, who was actually a better climber than both of them combined. Especially Jeff, who was a bit klutzy. When they stopped for a midmorning break, Dave sank to his knees beside Hanna and asked her where she’d attended college and what she’d majored in.
She watched Micah drink from his canteen and apply moleskin to the heels of those developing blisters. Afterward, he watched the Nettleworth teens razz one another as Dave droned on beside her. Micah was an observer by nature, she’d at least learned that about him. As a result he read people well. If only she could read him. But she thought she’d guessed correctly about his fear of relationships. He hadn’t admitted it, but he hadn’t denied it either.
“Hello?” Dave waved a hand in front of her face.
She laughed. “Sorry, what did you say?”
Her laughter drew Micah’s attention. A scowl lined his face, and she wondered at its cause before turning back to Dave and answering his question. She’d no sooner answered it than Micah announced they needed to move on.
Hanna was pleased with her energy level compared to the last time she made the climb. The day passed quickly, and it helped that she had Dave and Jeff to talk to, both of whom were outgoing and gregarious.
They made camp at the CMC campsite, and Hanna and Micah settled into the same jobs they’d had on the last trip while the campers hurried to set up their tents before dark.
After dinner they settled on logs around the campfire. As the cloak of darkness seeped in around the camp, the group chatte
red. The young couple sat to one side of Hanna, and they were the first to turn in. The Nettleworths followed, and Hanna thought they’d better get a good night’s rest, as they were clearly worn out.
By the time the rustle of sleeping bags and zippers hushed, Jeff had joined her and Dave, taking up residence on her left. While they shared marshmallows, Micah scowled from across the fire. Twice Dave had tried to include him in the conversation only to be given abrupt answers. She couldn’t help feeling that her goal of growing closer to Micah was faltering.
Micah watched Hanna over the flickering campfire. The white of her teeth glowed with each smile, and he’d seen them plenty of times in the last hour.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to look away. The three of them had carried on like long-lost pals, chattering and laughing about everything from roommate pet peeves to Jeff’s lack of coordination. Hanna’s face was animated as she talked. Jeff was only being friendly, but Micah read the interest on Dave’s face, in his body language. If he touched Hanna’s arm one more time, Micah was going to leap across the fire and slug him.
He poked the logs with his stick and the fire crackled, sending sparks of light into the air. He had no right to Hanna. She was free to have a relationship with anyone she chose. So why did he feel so possessive? He glanced across the fire, clenching his jaw when Dave touched her yet again.
Didn’t the man need some sleep? He glanced at his watch and saw it was past eleven. It was a good thing Micah was a night owl because he wasn’t about to turn in and leave Hanna alone with these guys, no matter how nice they seemed.
Soon Jeff retired to his tent, and Micah looked at Dave, hoping he’d take the hint and go too. No such luck. He and Hanna picked up right where they’d left off, albeit more quietly now that the comic had left.
He took a novel from his backpack and read by the light of the fire. Five minutes passed, then ten. Finally, at eleven-thirty, Dave got up and said his good-nights. Micah exhaled loudly when the zipper sealed the tent flap.
Across the fire Hanna had removed one of her boots and was scrutinizing her heel. “I think I’ve got a blister after all.”
Micah fished the moleskin out of his pack and joined her on the log, willing to help but still peeved about Dave. “I was beginning to think he was going to sleep out here.” He couldn’t keep the gruffness from his voice. He felt her watching him as he cut the circle out of the material.
“What’s your problem tonight?” she whispered, as if worried the words might leak through the tent walls.
He peeled off the backing and centered it over her blister. “I don’t have a problem.” He pressed the moleskin against her skin, then put the first-aid kit away.
“You were short with Dave earlier. It’s not like you to be rude to the guests.”
“It’s not like you to flirt with them.”
“I wasn’t!” she hissed, stiffening defensively.
He pinned her with a glare.
“I was just being friendly.” She crossed her arms and raised her chin a notch.
“You may think you’re being friendly, but guys like that take it as interest. And they’re only after one thing.”
“How do you know what they’re after?”
“Because I used to be one of those guys.” He picked up her stick and poked at a log. “I’ve seen the way Dave’s been looking at you. It’s no coincidence he walked behind you today. He’s been checking out your rear end all day.”
She drew in a breath, and her cheeks became tinged with a pink that had nothing to do with the fire’s heat. “He was not.”
“He was. He’s looking for a good time, and if you weren’t so naive, you’d know it.”
Her mouth opened and closed several times before she recovered enough to turn away from him and stare into the fire. Her face was set, her color high. “Why are you so interested anyway?” When she faced him, her eyes flickered with anger. “You wanted me to leave you alone, and that’s what I’ve done all day. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He didn’t know what to say. He did want her to leave him alone. But at the same time, he was drawn to her. He couldn’t understand himself, much less explain it.
“Why won’t you give in to it?” she asked. “This stuff about staying single all your life, it’s just an excuse for someone who’s afraid to take a chance.”
He watched the fire lick at the logs, feeling the heat from it, from the woman sitting too close beside him. She laid her fingers artlessly on his knee, and he nearly jumped from the jolt that coursed through his leg. His breath caught in his throat.
“Take a chance on me,” she said.
He looked at her eyes, shining with boldness. She was so innocent, so pure. She needed to understand they were wrong for each other, that he didn’t deserve her. “You don’t want me, Hanna. I’m not like you.”
Her fingers tightened on his knee in a squeeze that almost sent him scampering across the campsite. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
He dropped his leg straight, breaking the contact with her hand. He’d just have to convince her. Convince her that she didn’t want him. “You’re probably just as innocent as you seem, aren’t you? Been saving yourself for your husband someday, right?”
Color heightened her cheeks, but to her credit she didn’t flinch at his expression. “So?”
“How many partners do you think I’ve had?”
She looked away. “I don’t know. That’s none of my business.”
He watched her use a twig to draw circles in the dirt.
“I don’t know either,” he said.
The stick stopped twirling as she looked at him.
“I’ve had so many women, used so many woman, I have no idea how many.”
Her head snapped toward the stick, which she flicked in the dirt again. “Stop it.”
His heart tightened, and he was surprised how much it hurt to tell her the truth about himself. “Not very appealing, is it? Knowing I’ve been with women I barely knew.”
“Stop it!” She looked at him again, tears sparkling in her eyes.
His stomach clenched. Those wide eyes accused him, not of being immoral, but of trying to hurt her. He was guilty. Suddenly he couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was feel. Feel the dance of pleasure in his gut, the rush of adrenaline through his limbs. He looked at her trembling lips. He’d never wanted anyone so badly.
He leaned forward, wanting desperately to soothe the hurt he’d caused. When his lips touched hers, he gave in to the desire he felt. Never had a woman driven him to such distraction. He felt her lips move innocently against his and knew he’d never felt such passion. And he didn’t think it was abstinence alone that stoked the fire in his gut. That a simple kiss could so move him terrified him.
The tiny moan that tore from her throat nearly drove him over the edge. Sweet Jesus, help me.
Hanna had seen the promise in his eyes through her veil of tears before he’d drawn close. The moment was suspended in time, drawing out deliciously as she savored the way he looked at her. Not like a man afraid to take a chance, but like a man who had no choice.
His lips met hers, tentatively at first. Tasting, testing with a gentleness that melted her heart. Their breath mingled in a swirl of heat that seemed to come from deep within her. Of their own will, her arms slid to his shoulders. She buried her fingers in the silky softness of his hair and almost moaned when he drew her closer.
Sweet bliss, this meeting of hearts. She never wanted him to let her go.
He wrenched his mouth from hers and stood in the same motion. In two strides he was in front of the fire, running a hand through the hair she’d combed with her fingers. His body blocked the heat and light from the fire.
She tried to swallow but found her mouth dry as dirt. So that’s what all the fuss was about. Jess’s kisses had never been like that. It was like comparing tomatoes and jalapeños. Her heart still thudded in her chest at twice the normal pace.
&
nbsp; Why had he broken the kiss? Why did he stand with his back to her instead of looking her in the eye?
A sudden thought sent her stomach tumbling in a heavy heap. What if he’d found her touch repulsive or inexperienced? Of course, he could affect her with his kisses—he’d already admitted to plenty of practice. But she could count on one hand the times she’d been kissed. Had her attempts seemed fumbling and inept compared to the practiced women he’d been with? She shivered.
He cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
What was left of her confidence sagged hopelessly to the ground. The optimist in her wanted to ask why. Why shouldn’t he have done that? The coward in her wanted to run to her tent and lick her wounds in private.
The choice was taken from her when he walked to his tent and disappeared inside.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Hanna turned onto Natalie’s street, braking for the squirrel that scampered across the road. It was a nice, upper-class area with roomy, two-story cedar and log homes and yards shaded with mature trees. She slowed her 4×4 as she neared her sister’s home. Everything looked so nice on the outside: a neatly trimmed yard, flowers sprouting a rainbow of colors from freshly mulched areas, a large house perched on a hill at the base of a butte. It was hard to believe that the orderly estate housed a shattered family.
Hanna parked in the driveway and grabbed the carpet cleaner from the backseat. Alex burst through the door and hugged her legs, paralyzing her for a moment. “Whoa there, fella! How’s my boy?”
Natalie smiled at her from the doorway. “You didn’t have to dress up on my account.”
Hanna spun in a pirouette, as best she could with the carpet cleaner in tow. In truth she wore her scroungiest T-shirt and denim shorts.
“You’re just in time for lunch. I made my lasagna and homemade breads ticks.”
Hanna brushed by her and set the cleaner on the floor. “What did I do to deserve that?”
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