High Impact

by Kim Baldwin

  With every step, she tried to tune in to her sixth sense. Would it tell her Emery was there? But it was still on a low boil. Nothing like when she and Emery had met.

  She assessed the Den’s inhabitants with a quick glance. Only Grizz, the regulars, and two couples she didn’t recognize. No friends, no Emery, and Geneva conspicuously absent. Her heart sank. She nearly turned around to retreat to her apartment, but decided to drown her sorrows with a nightcap first.

  As she headed toward the bar, Grizz raised his bushy eyebrows in question. She shook her head, shorthand for “the usual?” and “not tonight.” Once in a while, she changed from coffee with Kahlua if she was at the bar. When celebrating, she splurged on champagne. With a meal, she might order wine. And when she was down, she went for the hard stuff. Cognac.

  “Rémy?” Grizz asked in his most sympathetic tone as he set a bowl of pretzels in front of her.

  Rémy Martin had soothed some of her most troublesome days, but she was asking a lot of it tonight. She usually went for the VSOP, but tonight she’d splurge. “XO.”

  Grizz let out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”

  “Bitch of a day. The phone drove me batty and I only now finished the paperwork.”

  “’Nuff said. You eaten?” he asked with a paternal tone as he set her drink to her left.

  Pasha picked up the snifter and swirled it to admire the thin reddish-gold wave that climbed the sides, considering his question. As her palm warmed the brandy, she drifted it under her nose to inhale its familiar floral-fruity aroma. She’d barely eaten anything all day, come to think of it. Too busy, and too preoccupied every free second with thoughts of Emery. She should be starving, but food didn’t sound appealing. “Not hungry.”

  “You make sure you take care of yourself.”

  “All the girls left, I see.” She tilted her head toward the big corner booth, now empty.

  “A while ago. Maybe a half hour.”

  Had Emery gone to her room? Alone? If so, maybe Pasha could call and invite her down for a nightcap. Get a chance to apologize for this morning. She needed to see Emery again, to assess if they had any spark between them. Literally, in her case. Would she feel her big rush of premonition again? And would Emery, if they spent some real time together, begin to recognize some weird connection existed between them?

  However, Emery could be with Geneva in her room, and if so, Pasha shouldn’t even think of interrupting them. But maybe they’d moved the party to the two couples’ cabin. “Did you notice if they all left together?” she asked Grizz.

  “No, they didn’t. Bryson, Karla, Chaz, and Megan left through the front, and Geneva and Emery went upstairs a couple minutes after that.”

  “And Emery hasn’t come back down?”

  “Don’t think so. I’ve been in and out of the kitchen, though. Might’ve missed her. Want me to call her room? Bet she’s still up.”

  “No, never mind.” She answered apparently a bit too adamantly, because Grizz gave her a puzzled look. “Not that important. I’ll catch her tomorrow.”

  “Whatever you say. Sure I can’t get you some food? Maybe some cobbler?”

  She shook her head. After inhaling the cognac again, now warm and bursting with aromatics, she took her first sip and let the complex flavors dance on her tongue.

  Grizz laid his large hand over hers. “Want me to get Ellie out here to cover, so we can sit and you can tell me what’s bothering you?”

  “Stop. I hate it when you do that.” Her gentle tone conveyed how much she cherished and appreciated his concern. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.” He drifted down the bar and started washing glasses, leaving her to her thoughts.

  Pasha took another sip of the brandy and closed her eyes. She had no trouble conjuring up a perfect picture of Emery, as detailed and vivid as a photograph. Two pictures, really—that first glance of Emery from afar, her silhouette stark against the out-of-focus world beyond, and the close-up she’d memorized in the office. She preferred the latter. She never tired of going to that place in her mind’s eye that had captured and memorized Emery’s classic features, toned body, and low, sexy voice.

  The Rémy was doing an unusually good job tonight warming her from within, probably because she was drinking on an empty stomach. The pleasant warmth quickly escalated, however, into an almost paralyzing pressure. Her nerves and muscles went taut, jangling with anticipation, and her heartbeat intensified until her whole body sang with unrequited need.

  “Pasha?”

  Emery’s voice instantly stilled her inner chaos. The jolt made her reel. She might go mad if this continued. Inhaling a deep breath, she opened her eyes.

  Emery leaned on the bar, three feet away, watching her with interest and concern.

  Her heart leapt, her brain clouded, and she almost wept in happiness, so moved she felt completely out of control. What the hell? The world had gone topsy-turvy; she couldn’t function. She just wanted to stare at Emery, ride this amazing, glorious bliss as long as it lasted.

  As Emery neared, the power resembled a fireball, gaining strength and velocity as it pulled them together. Then, face-to-face, she felt a heady, overwhelming bliss, as though to confirm Emery as the answer to her dreams.

  If she accepted Emery as the one and took steps to pursue her, maybe this crazy, dizzying implosion would stop. She would be lucky to be coherent. Eloquent would be impossible. “Emery, hello,” she managed.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Yup.” Deep breath. “I’m sorry if I was abrupt this morning.” Pasha formed every sentence in her mind before she spoke it. “I didn’t even properly introduce myself.” Aware of staring, she couldn’t stop herself. Emery didn’t break eye contact. That calm bliss enveloped her, lifted her off her feet, almost orgasmic.

  Emery waited for more. When Pasha remained speechless, she said. “How about we start from the top. A do-over.” She offered her hand and smiled. “I’m Emery Lawson.”

  Pasha tried to force her brain from its euphoric paralysis long enough to form words and willed herself to move. “Pasha Dunn, I’m—” Mid-sentence, their hands met, and the surge of powerful psychic energy struck her like a lightning bolt.

  She lost consciousness.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emery paced the second-floor hallway of the Den, glancing anxiously at the door to her room with every pass. She’d taken her boots off so she wouldn’t disturb the other guests and set them, neatly paired, beside the doorway. What was taking so long?

  Grizz had helped get Pasha upstairs after sending a bar patron to get Karla. Armed with her medical bag, she arrived quickly. Pasha had still been out cold fifteen minutes ago.

  A door opened farther down the hallway and Geneva stepped out, wearing a white cotton robe, her feet bare. “Anything?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Sure you don’t want to wait in my room?”

  “No, thanks. I’m good.” Emery didn’t want to sit down. Geneva was obviously concerned about Pasha, too, and meant nothing flirtatious. Earlier, after the kiss, they’d agreed to get to know each other better before they went any further sexually. She usually avoided getting too familiar, to avoid hurting someone, but it seemed the right course, at the moment, anyway. A way to delay any real decision about their future.

  “Keep me posted,” Geneva said, before returning to her room.

  Emery resumed her pacing. Pasha probably hadn’t hurt herself when she blacked out, because Emery had managed to half catch her as she collapsed. Grizz had said he didn’t think she’d eaten much, so that might explain the fainting. But why didn’t she wake up right away?

  The rest puzzled her, too. Pasha’s hand, when they shook, had felt uncannily warm when she passed out, but she hadn’t felt feverish. In fact, her forehead felt normal within seconds. Emery had never heard of a medical condition that could cause such a reaction.

  Most notable, right before Pasha collapsed, du
ring that long, unflinching eye contact, pure joy shone on her face, her pale-green eyes moist with emotion. But Grizz had said she’d barely touched her cognac.

  Why, then, had Pasha once again had such an extreme response to seeing her? Apparently, something was affecting her both physically and emotionally. This morning, she seemed tongue-tied and clumsy. Now, she’d blacked out, after looking at Emery as if reuniting with some long-lost loved one.

  Emery knew they’d never met, because she would remember Pasha, who was definitely smokin’ in the looks and build department. Really, all the women she’d met in the group were pretty damn attractive, one reason she hadn’t singled Pasha out. Yet.

  But tonight had changed that. Now, the woman thoroughly intrigued her, and she couldn’t wait to find out more about these bizarre reactions.

  *

  “Can you hear me? Pash?”

  Pasha roused, as disoriented and groggy as if coming to after a long binge of drinking. She opened her eyes fuzzily to find Karla leaning over her, perched on the edge of the bed she lay on. An unfamiliar bed. “Where am I?”

  “In Emery’s room. You fainted downstairs. Don’t you remember?”

  Emery’s name transported her back to the moment before her blackout. As she mentally replayed their brief exchange, it began again—the pressure, the knowing, the heat. Not nearly as intense this time, more a subtle simmering of her intuitive power. An understandable pattern was emerging.

  Emery must be nearby.

  The pressure and energy infusing her renewed and invigorated her, dispelling the hazy stupor she’d awakened with like a healing tonic. How mortifying, though, to faint in front of a client. Wilderness guides should be resourceful and heroic, unflappable under stress, not swooning, fragile femmes. “I do remember. How long was I out?”

  She sat up, but Karla immediately laid a hand on her arm.

  “Hey, easy there. Slow movements.” Karla watched her very closely, a stethoscope around her neck and a blood-pressure cuff on the bedside table. “You were out about fifteen minutes, probably. How do you feel?”

  “Good. Really. You don’t need to worry.”

  “Any idea why you fainted?” Karla pulled a mini-flashlight from her pocket and checked Pasha’s pupils with practiced efficiency. “Grizz said he thought you might not have eaten much today.”

  “I’m sure that’s all it was. Just got busy at the office.”

  Karla fixed the blood-pressure cuff around her arm and took a reading. “Well, your BP’s good, and your heart rate’s normal.” Stuffing her medical supplies back into her bag, she looked at Pasha with narrowed eyes. “I’m concerned, though, about how long you were out. Are you taking any medications?”

  “No.”

  “Anything else going on? Stress? Other health issues?”

  She wouldn’t use the word stress, which was a bad thing. Her bizarre, high-voltage reaction to Emery mystified her, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “Karla, I’m sure it’s nothing. I…I was just too preoccupied to eat, that’s all.”

  Karla knew her well and apparently sensed something more. “Spill. What aren’t you telling me?”

  Pasha sighed. She trusted Karla and would confide in her before anyone else, but she couldn’t talk about it yet. “I’ll fill you in, just not right now. I’m really okay and you don’t have to worry. Trust me on this?”

  Karla looked skeptical.

  “I just need a good night’s sleep. I’ll eat a big breakfast tomorrow and be good as new. I promise.”

  “I know when someone’s dismissing me, but we’re going to make a deal.” Karla’s tone didn’t invite discussion. “I don’t want you staying in your apartment tonight with Dita gone. Someone should be nearby if you feel unwell again. We can see if Grizz has a room free—I expect he does, this early in the season—or you can put up with me sleeping on your couch. Your choice.”

  “Can’t talk you out of that, I suppose?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Well, I don’t want to incur Bryson’s wrath for keeping you away from her. I’ll call Grizz.”

  He readily offered to give her an empty room for the night at no charge and said he’d be up with a key in a couple of minutes. “I’m all set,” she told Karla after hanging up.

  “Good. I’ll head home. Have someone come get me if you need me.” Karla stood and grabbed her medical bag. “The cabin doesn’t have a phone.”

  “I will. But don’t hold your breath. I’m really feeling totally okay.” She got up too and followed Karla to the door.

  Karla hugged her good-bye. “I have to make a run to Coldfoot tomorrow, but I’ll stop by the office when I get back to check on you.”

  Pasha felt a marked increase in the power as Karla reached for the door; Emery was just outside. She steeled herself, praying she didn’t black out again.

  The wave of warmth and energy enveloped her when the door opened and she saw Emery waiting on the other side. For a moment, she felt light-headed, but the dizziness passed quickly.

  Emery’s face, initially concerned, relaxed when she saw Pasha on her feet and Karla’s medical bag in her hand. She looked from Karla to Pasha. “What’s happening? You all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Feeling less tongue-tied pleasantly surprised Pasha. “Sorry to have created such a fuss. Just got too busy to eat today, that’s all.” She carefully avoided too much direct eye contact and didn’t dare get much closer to Emery, unsure about her reaction.

  “Are you sure?” Emery seemed dubious.

  “She’s got a room here tonight,” Karla said. “So she can call someone if she feels unwell again.”

  “Both of you can relax. I’m perfectly healthy.” Pasha was relieved to hear Grizz’s heavy footfalls. “Sorry to have inconvenienced you,” she told Emery. “You can have your room back, now.”

  “Oh, no trouble,” Emery replied as Grizz joined them. She started to say something more, but Pasha breezed past and took the key Grizz dangled from his fingers.

  The power spiked when Pasha brushed against Emery’s arm, but she concealed her reaction.

  “Twenty-three.” Grizz pointed to the room four doors down. “Can I bring you something to eat?”

  “No, thanks. I’m just going to hit the sheets. Kind of tired, but otherwise okay. ’Night, everybody.” She went directly to her room, but glanced back as she keyed the lock to see the three of them still watching her. “Excitement’s over, guys. Move along, now. Go back about your business.”

  Grizz laughed and Karla smiled, but Emery’s face remained tight with concern. And something else—something Pasha couldn’t decipher. But Emery clearly wasn’t looking past her. She’d taken note of her, finally, seeing her as though for the first time.

  Her heart lifted, and she might have gone to bed with optimism if Geneva hadn’t broken the spell. She emerged from her room dressed in a bathrobe, legs bare and ample cleavage showing, and smiled when she spotted Pasha and the others. “You okay, Pash?”

  “Yup, I’m fine.” She escaped into her room, trying to forget her last image of the hallway tableau. Reassured the crisis was over, Karla and Grizz started back downstairs, but Geneva headed right for Emery.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Next day, June 3

  Emery couldn’t get back to sleep and went downstairs for coffee a little after six thirty. The few patrons who beat her to the restaurant were all men, and an older woman stood behind the bar, wearing a faded, long-sleeve T-shirt that read No More War, the o’s in both no and more replaced by peace symbols.

  “Good morning,” Emery told the woman as she took a barstool. “Can I get some coffee, please?”

  “Sure thing.” The woman poured a mug full from a carafe and set it before her. “Emery, right?”

  “Yes.” Odd to have strangers recognize her so readily. Could the locals keep up with all the newcomers once the tour season really got underway and the village teemed with unfamiliar faces?

  “I’m Ellie. Grizz’s wif
e.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too. Can I get you some breakfast?”

  “Hmm.” She opened the menu and scanned it. “Couple of eggs, poached. And some of your sourdough toast?”

  “Coming right up.”

  As she sipped her coffee, Emery wondered about Pasha. What was she doing? How did she feel? And, most of all, when would they get an opportunity to talk?

  Not that she wasn’t looking forward to going up again with Bryson, especially because Bryson had promised her she’d love the surprise. Anticipating the outing had certainly contributed to her restless night. But the trip would likely prevent her from satisfying the real root of her sleeplessness: what the hell happened to Pasha when they came face-to-face?

  Last night had only piqued her curiosity more. Thank God, Pasha had apparently suffered no ill effects from blacking out. In fact, despite the strange episode, she seemed oddly more relaxed and at ease afterward than in any of their previous encounters.

  The memory of the unmistakable voltage that ran up Emery’s arm when Pasha brushed by her had oddly disturbed her and kept her awake. Similar to the shock from static electricity, like touching a doorknob in winter after shuffling across a rug in stocking feet, only much more powerful. Not quite up to stun-gun standards, but close. For a few seconds, she couldn’t draw a breath and felt unsteady on her feet.

  The situation completely mystified her. The humid air and the hallway’s wood flooring wouldn’t produce simple static electricity.

  She had to know what was so unusual about Pasha.

  She finished eating at ten after seven, and Pasha’s office opened at eight. Emery got a large coffee and freshly baked cranberry muffin to go and carried them up to room twenty-three.

  “Pasha? It’s Emery. You up?” Despite repeated knocks, she got no answer. She tried the door, which opened. The bed had been slept in, but Pasha had evidently left even before Emery had gone downstairs. Probably back home now, wherever she lived, getting ready for work.