But that changed nothing. It was a fact that Gévaudan evoked peculiar and powerful reactions from those around him—and even she was not immune. That he could invade her dreams was more than she was prepared to accept. That he could make her feel this way, forget herself.
Unable to govern a flood of contradictory emotions and incapable of sleeping again that night, Joey scrambled out of bed. The floor was cold under her feet, though the room itself seemed far too warm. She began to pace across the short space from door to window, crossing and recrossing the shaft of moonlight, driven by her agitated thoughts.
She had one goal, and one goal alone. That goal did not allow for any ridiculous flights of fancy—or any side trips into unwanted relationships. The only way to deal with the situation was to acknowledge it.
Fact. Gévaudan existed, and he did seem to have a kind of charisma about him that even she had to accept.
Fact. Her dreams proved that she felt that charisma much more strongly than she cared to admit.
Fact. Gévaudan's behavior suggested he was interested in her, and it was likely she'd run into him again.
Fact. The only way to deal with this distraction was to confront it head-on.
And that meant facing up to Gévaudan, looking him in the eye and erasing his influence from her mind—conscious and unconscious.
The logical array of facts did much to comfort Joey, and having a plan of action, however vague, was a vast improvement over the uncertainty she'd felt moments before. She knew what she had to do, she simply had to keep thinking in terms of facts and reality. Given no encouragement and nothing but remote courtesy, Gévaudan would surely lose interest. And she, in turn, would be able to complete her goals without further distractions.
Stretching her arms behind her, Joey crossed to the window and turned her face to the silver moon. The cold light seemed like an embodiment of pure reason—a kind of mascot, she thought to herself with a smile, reminding her of her purpose. No more daydreaming or wallowing in the beauty of Nature—and no more nightmares.
Below her, two stories down, the small manicured lawn flowed to the edge of the forest, dark and impenetrable even in the moonlight. The mountains formed a black silhouette against a carpet of stars. There was nothing romantic about the view. It represented something she had to overcome to reach her goal. Everything she did from now on had to be a means to an end.
As she turned away from the window, she heard it the distant wail of a howling wolf.
She froze in place, compelled beyond reason to search the darkness for what she half-expected to find. A chorus rose to join the first cry, receding at first, then drawing nearer.
Joey clutched the edge of the windowsill. There was an endless time filled only by the eerie voices, and then she looked down and saw it.
Her wolf.
It stood alone in the grass, its heavy fur frosted with moonlight. It gazed up in silence, and though she could not see its eyes, she knew it saw her. For an instant it held its place, and then it flung back its head and howled. The sound was chillingly mournful, and Joey shivered in sympathy. As the echoes of its cry faded, it bounded away, flowing into the forest.
Luke paused by the outer glass wall of the coffee shop, knowing she would be there. He watched her for a moment as she sipped her coffee, cradling the mug between her hands, eyes closed to savor the aroma.
He envied her the ability to find solace in it. His sleep had been restless, filled with dreams of her, and nothing so simple as coffee could soothe his spirit or ease his need.
He knew the instant she felt his presence, her eyes snapped open and focused on him without the slightest hesitation. The coffee shop was almost deserted, and Luke was grateful for that. Collier's appeals still stung him more than he cared to acknowledge, and he wanted no further complications.
She watched him wanly as he approached the table. It was clear she was trying to keep her expression as cool and severe as it had been the day before, but there was a subtle change in her—something he sensed but could not define.
Her eyes did not quite meet his as he leaned over her table. Steam from the coffee swirled up between them.
"Do you mind if I join you, Ms Randall?" He kept his voice light, reining in the intensity that drove him, he saw her fingers tighten on the mug and then gradually relax.
"Mr Gévaudan. I'm just finishing my coffee—but yes, by all means." Her tone was distant but lacked the bite of near hostility it had carried in the general store. Luke regarded that as an improvement, however small.
He favored her with a smile. "I think we may have gotten off to a bad start. It wasn't my intention to offend you in any way. The fact is, we don't see many strangers here. I guess I let my curiosity get the better of me."
Her expression wavered between an uneasy frown and a strained smile. 'I wasn't very polite myself, Mr Gévaudan. I apologize for that." For a moment she seemed about to continue, but she dropped her eyes and lapsed into silence.
"In that case, if it's all right with you, I suggest we start over. My name is Luke Gévaudan." He extended his hand again, and she freed her grip on the mug to take it. This time her hand barely grazed his, and she pulled it back almost as if she had been burned.
The contact, brief as it was, had an unexpected effect on Luke, and he covered his confusion by sliding into the seat opposite hers. She blinked but did not object, her gaze slid away.
"My name is Joey Randall. But you already knew that, didn't you?" The bite in her tone was astringent, but she seemed to catch herself and gave him a slight, apologetic smile. "Sorry. My name is Joelle, but I go by Joey. That's what I prefer."
Luke rested his arms on the table. "Joey. And please call me Luke. What I said yesterday about informality still applies." He sought her eyes, but she continued to avoid his gaze, looking everywhere else with a nonchalance he knew she didn't feel. "Now that we've met, I hope we can be friends."
Her face flushed again, with a visible effort she collected herself and finally met his eyes. "I'll be honest with you Luke." The words were almost toneless. "I was telling you the truth yesterday. I've got some very important business to attend to in the next week or so—and it's really taking most of my time and energy. I don't think I'd be a very good friend just now."
"I heard about your meeting with the wolf the other day," Luke persisted softly. "Wolves won't hurt you—but if you wouldn't mind taking some advice, stay away from the high meadows and open woodlands from now on. The grizzlies are foraging for winter, and many of the sows have cubs with them. They can be extremely unpredictable.
"I appreciate your advice, Luke, but I'm not entirely without intelligenc.e I have no desire to be eaten by a bear, believe me." For a moment there was heat in her voice; she reached over her shoulder to run fingers along her braid, tidying it, and Luke watched her with a hunger he struggled to conceal.
"Good. Being smart and cautious can help you survive up here," he said, leaning back in a stretch. He saw her eyes brush over him. There was something there, something she could have hidden from anyone else. Anyone but him. "This isn't what you're used to, coming from down South."
"Believe me, I'll take your warnings under consideration." Her eyes dropped to regard the coffee before her; she raised it to her lips and grimaced in distaste. Luke could see that her hands were shaking. "It's cold."
Luke started to his feet "I'll get you more."
"No, that won't be necessary. I was finished anyway." She made a move to get up, but he shifted slightly to block her way, careful not to alarm her. She sank back down into the seat, biting her lip. "I do have things to take care of, Luke. I'm sure you understand. Maybe later." Her expression revealed her immediate chagrin at even so vague a suggestion.
Luke was not daunted by her reluctance. Every passing second in her presence convinced him that she was far from immune to him, though she seemed determined to reject her own response. And he was certain now that she would fulfill the promise of his dreams—those incr
edible, sensual dreams that had haunted his sleep from the moment he saw her.
"What about tonight?" he asked smoothly. "We don't have many fancy dining establishments in town, but I'd be very pleased if you would join me for dinner. This place serves a reasonable steak.
"Luke, I do thank you for your offer—but I'm under a great deal of pressure right now." She stared fixedly into her coffee. "I can't guarantee when I'll be free. I hope you understand." Her voice had become cool and distant again, polite and correct and without a shred of warmth. It provoked him unexpectedly
"I hope you don't mind a blunt observation, Joey," he remarked with a casualness as false as her own. "I've heard something of your business in town, and I'll risk giving you a little more advice. The mountains become dangerous with the coming of winter, and there are some very isolated areas that very few people have explored. The wilderness is unpredictable at the best of times. It isn't a place for someone of limited experience .You may be disappointed in finding what you're looking for."
Within an instant all reserve dropped from Joey's face, the fire was back in force, though it burned with a savage chill "And do you know just what I'm looking for, Mr Gévaudan? Do you know me at all? I don't think so. And I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd just leave me alone ."
Her eyes flashed on his, the gold flecks bright against deep brown, and Luke was startled to find that his gaze broke first. He hardly noticed when she stood up and pushed him aside.
"If you'll excuse me, I have things to do. Good-bye, Mr Gévaudan." Her body brushed by him as she marched away, shoulders rigid with anger—and something less easily defined.
Luke watched her go, amazed at his own bemusement. She was the first who had ever managed to face him down.
The thought was not particularly pleasant, and Luke felt his hackles rise. One thing had become very clear, she most definitely reacted to him. Her attempts at cool indifference were a transparent mask for something she didn't care to acknowledge. And for all her will and determination, she had never faced his like before.
Luke smoothed the frown from his face, glancing around intently. If anyone had witnessed the episode, he was staying carefully out of sight. Luke straightened and stalked out of the coffee shop. So she was able to resist him in a way the others hadn't—but she had a weakness. There was something she wanted very much. Almost as much as he wanted her.
It was only a matter of time.
Chapter Three
The week passed all too quickly.
Joey had met with nothing but frustration in her search for a replacement guide, and the fading summer fled before her. The first golden leaves were beginning to appear on aspen and cottonwood, and the bellowing of moose would soon herald the arrival of autumn. Already the air was touched with chill in the mornings and evenings. No one had to remind Joey that her time was running short.
To add insult to injury, Joey found herself haunted by Luke Gévaudan. Her best efforts at dissuading him, all her determination to give him not one shred of encouragement that might embolden him in his pursuit of her, went for nothing.
If she dropped in to exchange a friendly word with Dr Collier, Luke was there. When she went by the general store for supplies, Luke just happened to be in the area.
He haunted her, and although he maintained a persistent presence and that same intense regard he had shown from the beginning, he never quite pushed beyond it. He might offer casual comments but never again pressed unwanted advice on her.
And because he stayed within the limits of propriety—and also, she admitted, because he was a very attractive and charismatic man—Joey simply could not ignore him. What frightened her more was the notion that soon she might not want to.
The dreams still came with distressing regularity. Each one seemed more vivid than the last, it was all she could do to prevent her chagrin from showing on her face in Gévaudan's presence. Even so, she had the uneasy feeling that he could see through her façade and knew what he was doing to her. Somehow, he knew.
Reflecting bleakly on her situation, Joey sought sanctuary in Red's Tavern. Maggie had been a constant source of support for her, and their friendship had grown so strong that it felt to Joey as if she'd known the other woman for years.
As usual, Maggie was busy waiting on her regulars; Red's was a haven for many local folk. They no longer looked up when Joey arrived, and Maggie had told her their indifference was a sign she'd been accepted. That, at least, was a welcome change.
But, Joey mused as she sat sipping her usual glass of wine, being accepted didn't solve her current problem. And of all the local people, only one seemed to fill her mind.
"A penny for your thoughts," Maggie said, grinning as Joey looked up with a blank, unfocused stare. At once the redhead's cheerful face grew serious. "I see you haven't had any more luck. Damned shame." She wiped the counter off with long strokes of a towel and talked as she worked. "I sure wish I knew how to help, Joey. But I've tried every lead I could think of, even outside of town. I just haven't come up with anything."
Joey nodded gloomily. "Bill Jackson wasn't able to help me, either. I'm getting to the end of my rope, Maggie." She sighed and dropped her chin into her hands Her reflection in the spotted mirror behind the counter looked like a stranger's: grim, weary, and helpless.
Maggie frowned in sympathy. "Well, kid, try to get it off your mind for a while. Relax a bit—you don't look like you've slept well lately." She set down the towel and peered into Joey's face.
"As it happens, I haven't," Joey admitted. She took a sip of wine and experimented with a smile. "Sorry. I'll try to be better company."
"That's it. Just take it easy for a while. You've earned it." Maggie swept away to look after a patron and returned with a wink and a glance back over her shoulder. "Might interest you to know you're at the center of town gossip these days. You know how dull things are around here—doesn't take much to set tongues wagging."
Joey managed a wry grin. "Tell me about it. I suppose it's my silly city-girl attempts to conquer the wilderness—or maybe that I don't know when I'm licked?" She couldn't help but admit that the townsfolk had a point there, even though she had not retreated one step from her goal.
Maggie shook her mane of red curls "People are getting used to that. No, it's the fact that Luke Gévaudan has spent more time in town over the past two weeks than he normally does in a year—and word is it's all because of you." She put her hands on her hips triumphantly and beamed at Joey. "Looks like you've made a conquest, like it or not."
Unable to control her instinctive response, Joey tried to relax her taut muscles and maintain an even expression. "Is that so? I'm glad to be a source of entertainment for people, but I'd just as soon Mr Gévaudan went back to his old habits and stayed away." Her best efforts could not quite keep the bite from her tone, and Maggie's brows shot up in surprise.
"Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to offend. So he's making a pest of himself, is he?" She learned over the counter. "I told you before he's got kind of a reputation, but I'll be honest with you—in the past, he never went to much effort. The ladies just sort of fell into his arms." Her tone grew confidential. "He'd usually disappear with the lucky girl, and people wouldn't see much of them for a season or two. And then, eventually, the girl would leave. Every time "
"I hope you don't think I have any intention of 'falling into his arms' and disappearing anywhere with him," Joey said with some heat. That's the last sort of complication I need."
"As I said, it's not the same with you. That's what has people talking," Maggie admitted. "People may not trust him, but he's different. And so are you. So it's got people a little curious."
"Just as long as they don't get their hopes up," Joey snapped. Closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath, she smiled apologetically at Maggie. "All right. He's attractive. Maybe if things were different—but you've said yourself he has a reputation, and I am not about to become anyone's 'conquest'. In fact, if you happen to have any advice about how to
discourage him, I'd sure appreciate it."
The redhead leaned back and folded her arms with a thoughtful tug on one earlobe. "Well, I wish I knew. He's always given me the impression of being very persistent—sort of like someone else I know." She took the sting out of her words with a wink. "Trouble is, no one here knows enough about him. Except maybe Dr Collier. I hear he got as close to Gévaudan as anyone ever did."
Joey shook her head. "I like Dr Collier," she murmured, "but I don't think I'm ready to ask him for advice about another man. Especially not one like Mr Gévaudan." She fell into a brooding silence, vivid images of her dreams bringing an unwelcome flush to her skin.
There was a long stillness, and Joey was hardly aware of the constant din of the bar as she tried not to think of Luke Gévaudan. Maggie's return to conversation was a much-needed distraction. "You know, I've been thinking, Joey. You probably aren't going to like this, but something just occurred to me." She broke off, frowning in thought, and seemed to reach a decision. "You've been searching for a guide, and all this time there's been one overlooked possibility right under our noses."
Joey sat up. "What's that?" Gévaudan fled her mind at the sudden wash of hope that followed Maggie's pronouncement, but the redhead's next words chilled her.
"Luke Gévaudan." Maggie didn't wait for Joey's reaction. "I don't know why I didn't think of it before, except that he's such a forbidding character—and I've never known him to hire out before. But the fact is, I doubt there's another man around here who is likely to know more about the area you want to go into. Come to think of it, he owns a sizable parcel of the land out that way. You might even have to pass through it to get where you want to go." The redhead nodded to herself, falling silent as Joey sat back and absorbed the unexpected revelation.
Gévaudan as guide. It had simply never occurred to Joey, even with his near-constant presence, and though the idea dismayed her for a wealth of very complicated reasons, it was the first real chance she had.
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