It was disconcerting. Inconvenient. Frighteningly exhilarating. She felt almost drunk from their encounter and she hadn’t had a drop.
She touched Sue’s name on her phone’s screen, setting it to speaker phone.
“Hey, chickie, what’s up?” Sue’s voice filled the kitchen. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. You okay?”
In her late fifties, Sue was more than a friend. She was the one person who knew Juliette as thoroughly as anyone could or, perhaps, ever would. Sue was her sponsor, the woman who’d spent a year helping Juliette work through the 12-step program of Alcoholics Anonymous.
In the early days, and occasionally in the subsequent years, when the temptation, the craving to drink had gnawed at Juliette, Sue had been there to talk her through it. Sometimes it was one day at a time, one hour at a time. When things were really bad, Juliette had taken it minute by minute. And while she didn’t feel the need to drink now, she did feel the need to talk to someone who knew all the nuances of her past.
“I’m fine. I haven’t had a drink and I don’t want one.”
“That’s some good news. So, tell me what’s going on.”
Juliette pulled out the tea bag and gave Sue the rundown on Sven, leaving none of it out.
“Good. It’s about time.”
“What?” Mug in hand, Juliette retreated to her bedroom. She settled back against the lace-ruffled pillow.
“You heard me. You can bury yourself in that little town, but sooner or later you’ve got to live.”
“But—”
“There’s a difference between being sober, which you have been, and being sober and living, and I’m not sure how much living you’ve been doing. You’ve got a good solid foundation under you, Juliette. Trust yourself.”
“I do, but—”
“Maybe you trust yourself, but you’ve got to move past the fear. Let me guess, this is the first time you’ve ever kissed someone when you were totally sober, without a glass of wine or two to loosen up.”
Juliette rested her forehead in her hand, her eyes closed, willing herself not to go back to all those other times, not to dredge up the past. “Yes.”
“And I’m guessing this was better than all those other times combined?”
Better didn’t begin to describe it. She ached for him. “Yes.”
“It’s time, Juliette, to live sober—to kiss a man, to make love, to laugh, to embrace in the rain. Open yourself to life’s experiences.”
“I don’t want to fail at another relationship.” Old feelings of inadequacy surfaced and rolled through her.
“You won’t. Good Lord, don’t you know most men are scared to death that a woman wants to put a ring on their finger? Enjoy what’s coming your way. You’re attracted to him, right?”
She resisted the urge to laugh hysterically. “You could safely say that.”
“He’s a decent guy?”
“He’s actually very nice. Almost too nice. He comes from this really great family, he’s smart and funny and good-looking and talented.” And if he truly understood how flawed she was, he’d leave her alone. Although she’d tried to tell him…
“Oh, I see.” And Juliette was fairly certain Sue did see. “He’s too good, isn’t he? You deserve good things, hon.” Sue did know her. She understood exactly what was going through Juliette’s head.
“Trust that the things that are meant to come to you will come to you.”
“So, you think I should go tomorrow?”
“Yes, I think you should go tomorrow.” Juliette could hear the smile in Sue’s voice. “And I think you should wear a dress when you’re ready to wear a dress. Then, when you’re ready, I think you should stay the night.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
Was she ready for a date? Did she want a lover?
Her body screamed yes, but her mind wasn’t quite convinced.
7
SVEN’S HEART WAS THUMPING in his chest like crazy as he drove down the potholed road to Juliette’s place. She rented the place. He spotted her truck and made the left onto the driveway, which was in even worse shape than the road.
The first thing he noticed, considering it would be impossible to miss, was the assortment of wind chimes, whirligigs and weather vanes scattered throughout the clearing that served as a yard. He parked behind her Land Rover and made his way toward the door. It was a little busier than he preferred, but some of her stuff was pretty cool.
Sven took his time, strolling through the assortment. Tibetan prayer flags, strung across the front of a year-round porch, fluttered in the breeze. It should have been a cacophony as the various materials—glass pieces, silverware, wood, copper tubing—produced their own sound. It wasn’t. It all combined and worked to produce a sound that was both soothing and energizing.
Before he reached the pathway to the porch door, it opened and Juliette stepped out onto the covered landing. He did a double take, a slow smile spreading across his face. He’d been uptight all morning, but suddenly all was incredibly right with his world.
Just for the record, if it was a date…I like my women in dresses.
She was wearing a dress.
A short-sleeved dress in graduated shades of pink and cream followed the curve of her hip, ending in three ruffled flounces at the hem that hit her a couple of inches above the knee. She had nice legs. Very, very nice legs.
“Hi.” She nodded toward his truck. “How’s it running?”
“Great. Donna’s a genius with engines.” Especially when there wasn’t anything wrong with it. He’d just wanted a reason to get Juliette to have dinner with him again. All was fair in love and war and this qualified as a bit of both.
“You look really, really nice. Great, in fact. It’s a good look for puppy-picking.”
A light blush stole up her neck and colored her cheeks. She really was beautiful—soft and feminine but strong. Her short hair curled against her neck and cheek while her skin glowed fresh. She wore minimal makeup. He wished he’d brought her flowers. He should’ve brought flowers. Next time.
He stepped closer and reached out to touch her earrings, his finger brushing the soft curve of her cheek and the delicate shell of her ear. “Beautiful.”
The puppies could wait. Everything could wait. He wanted nothing more than to touch her, to know the hidden secrets of her body, the curves beneath the dress, the texture of her skin, the expression on her face when he gave her pleasure. He dialed himself back. Last night he had moved too quickly. He dropped his hand to his side.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, even though it was already there. “They’re origami cranes,” she said.
“Did you make them?”
“No. I ordered them on the internet.”
He glanced around the yard. “I take it you like wind art.”
She smiled, the curve of her lips, her scent, touching him deep inside, like a lover’s caress. “You think? What gave it away?”
“So, do you internet shop this, as well?” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand to encompass her collection.
“I make the wind chimes. It’s a hobby.” There was a shy edge to her smile. “Sometimes it’s almost an obsession.” She laughed self-consciously.
“How’d you get interested in that?”
She shrugged. “There’s just something about the air. And it’s as if the chimes…the whirligigs…the flags…it’s a tangible manifestation of something you can’t actually see because we don’t actually see the wind. It’s like looking at freedom.”
“You said once before that flying was freedom.”
“It is. It’s like nothing else. I’d rather be up in the air than anywhere else. Don’t we need to go? You said Marsha’s expecting you at two?”
“Yeah, you’re right. We should roll out or we’re going to be late.” She stepped off the landing and he placed his hand lightly in the small of her back. “I’m glad you’re going with me.”
“I think I am, too.” H
er quiet smile felt like a caress.
They walked to his truck and he opened her door, earning him a look. “Uh, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He climbed into the cab. She smelled good, fresh. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel rather than reach for her and pull her into his arms. He backed out the driveway and they bounced down the road, a comfortable silence between them. When they turned out onto the main road leading to Marsha’s and picked up speed, the wind blowing through the open windows increased. “If that’s too much air or you’re worried about your hair, we can roll the windows up some.”
Juliette laughed. “I told you, I love the wind and my hair just kind of does its own thing.”
“I like it. It suits you.”
“Thanks. I’m not a high-maintenance woman by any stretch of the imagination.”
She might not be high-maintenance but she was by far the most complicated, complex woman he’d ever met. That, however, he kept to himself.
He glanced over at her. Her hair seemed to dance about her head, buffeted by the airflow. “I like the way the wind’s whipping through your hair.”
She laughed. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No. Not at all. I do like it. It’s cool.”
She turned a bit in the seat, canting one of her shapely legs toward him. “So, I’m not much of a dog person. What are you looking for in a puppy? General cuteness? Male? Female? Do you want it to be a working dog or just a pet?”
“More of a companion. I’ve never had a real need for a working dog. Susie went with me everywhere. She was smart as a whip.”
“What happened to her?”
“Old age. One morning she couldn’t get up and then she looked at me and I knew.”
She reached over and touched his arm lightly, resting her fingers briefly against his forearm in a gesture of comfort. “I’m sorry. It must have been hard.”
He nodded. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Nah, it was the hardest thing.” Which was why he’d had to give it some time and distance before he got another dog. “It doesn’t really matter whether it’s a male or a female.”
“Then that should make it easy.”
“Yeah?” Spoken like a true puppy-picking neophyte. “We’ll see.”
They pulled into Marsha’s place and she was waiting outside. Marsha, who must’ve been somewhere in her mid-thirties, had had a rough year. First, her long-term girlfriend had packed up and moved back to wherever she was from in the lower forty-eight to take care of an ailing parent. Then a couple of months ago her younger sister, Teddy, who Marsha had raised after their mom died, had moved to New York. At least Marsha still had her dogs.
“Sven…Juliette.” She greeted each of them with a firm handshake and a reserved smile. “So, you ready to see the little rascals?” She cut right to the chase, but then again, Marsha always seemed most at ease when she was talking about or was with her dogs.
“Sounds good.”
“Hold on a sec, then. I kept them up until you got here. Pups running around and big trucks pulling in can be a bad combination. Plus, you never know with the eagles and hawks. That’d be bad.”
About a month ago another breeder had lost a pup to an eagle. It didn’t happen often, but still, Sven understood her caution. As if it had overheard the conversation, an eagle’s call resounded in the distance.
Marsha crossed the expanse of green lawn that fronted the house and formed the side yard to the kennel. She opened the door, whistled and puppies literally tumbled out. Yipping and yapping, they tripped over their short stocky legs and each other in their haste. It was an array of damn cute pups.
Sven glanced at Juliette. She watched the puppies, a smile wreathing her face, as the little ones scampered across the lawn toward them. And this was a woman who professed she didn’t much care for dogs? Okay, then.
She sank to her knees and they rushed her, jockeying for attention. Sven squatted beside her. Laughing, her hands entangled in puppiedom, she glanced over at him, unguarded joy shining in her eyes. “Aren’t they just so cute?”
His breath lodged in his throat. Sunlight dappled her face, picking out a couple of freckles on the bridge of her nose. She looked young and carefree and he realized, once he caught a glimpse of her without it, how guarded she usually was. The look in her eyes seared straight through to his soul.
And it was as if in that moment he found a temporary purpose he really hadn’t known was lacking in his life. His short-term mission was to see more of that joy in her eyes. And it was totally self-serving, because it simply made him feel good inside.
* * *
THE RASP OF A WET TONGUE against her forearm tickled and Juliette laughed yet again. Had she ever laughed so much in her life as she had in the past few days? The sun warmed her head and shoulders. The puppies, soft fur balls of unbridled energy, raced between her and Sven. For such a big man, he was incredibly gentle with them. The irrational notion crossed her mind that he’d be great with kids.
A familiar feeling washed over her, but it was out of context. It took her a second to realize what she felt was the same sensation she experienced in the air, in her plane—free, safe, happy in the moment. She’d never, ever felt this way before on the ground. The sheer novelty of it broadened her smile and she relaxed into the moment of sunshine, puppies…and Sven.
“He’s a bruiser,” Sven said, picking up a gray male with a distinctive black mask who stood obviously bigger than the others.
Marsha smiled, sinking to her haunches next to Juliette. “That’s exactly what I call him—Bruiser.”
The puppies shifted their attention to Sven, who was holding one of their own. Juliette noticed for the first time a pup on the fringe of the melee. Smaller than the others, it hung back. As if it sensed her interest, it looked up. Juliette found herself looking into the softest, kindest eyes she’d ever encountered. It was like gazing into the eyes of a very old soul.
“Who is that?” she said to Marsha, pointing to the one hanging back from the rest.
“I call her Baby. As you can see, she’s the runt of the litter. There’s not always a runt, but Baby definitely qualifies.”
Juliette held out her hand. Baby tentatively started toward her, only to be knocked out of the way by the rush of three others. Doggedly, no pun intended, Baby pushed through the group, nipping at one.
“Well, I’ll be hanged with a new rope.” Marsha rocked back on her heels. “I’ve never seen her do that. Usually she doesn’t bother to take on the others. She just holds back and lets them have whatever.”
Baby nudged Juliette’s finger with a wet nose. “Can I pick her up?”
“Sure.”
Juliette scooped up the little girl dog. She was soft, but not nearly as plump as the others. Feeling a little awkward and unsure, Juliette cuddled the pup to her. She could’ve sworn the dog sighed as she settled against Juliette’s chest.
Sven grinned. “I didn’t think you were a dog person.”
She could’ve kicked him for that. It just wasn’t something you said in front of a breeder. “You learn something new about yourself all the time, I guess.”
Marsha looked from Sven to Juliette and then her gaze encompassed the both of them. “That’s funny, well, ironic really. You’ve got Bruiser—” she nodded at Sven “—and you’ve got Baby—” this nod was directed at Juliette “—and the two of them have this kind of weird connection the rest don’t seem to have. At chow time, Bruiser looks out for her, but then Baby gives back, because she licks him until he falls asleep. It’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Well,” Sven said to Juliette. “So much for you helping me choose. It looks like today’s a his ’n hers. One for you and one for me.”
Automatically a protest rose to Juliette’s lips and then she stopped, opening herself up to the possibility. Why not? As if sensing her indecision, Baby snuggled deeper against Juliette.
She was thirty-two. She
’d never had a dog before. Heck, she’d never had any pet before. She wasn’t particularly drawn to dogs or cats—or babies, for that matter, not that they were pets—but it was almost as if Baby wasn’t a dog. She was more like…Juliette didn’t know…just a being, a soul in a dog body, who obviously liked Juliette. And Juliette liked her. She seesawed in indecision.
“I never try to talk anyone into a dog,” Marsha said. “It’s a big responsibility and a big commitment. I love my dogs and I only want them going to a home where they’re going to get the best care. But that said, it’d be nice if Bruiser and Baby could see one another once in a while because they’re attached. You never know where the dogs will wind up—I’ve got a buyer flying in tomorrow from River’s Ford—and if these two could stay close to one another.…”
Juliette just didn’t know. “It is a big decision. I need to think about it.”
“Sure. If you think you’re not going to want her though, could let me know before Joe gets here tomorrow? She’s such a runt it’s unlikely he’ll want her, but it’s not really fair to take her out of the running, if you know what I mean.”
Every fiber within her protested at the notion of some faceless stranger named Joe hauling Baby off to River’s Ford. She didn’t care how nice Joe might be, he wouldn’t feel about Baby the way Juliette did right now.
She remembered Sven saying his dog had gone to work with him. What would it be like to have Baby up in the sky with her?
“How do you think she’d do in a plane?”
Marsha smiled. “There’s only one way to find out. But these dogs are laid-back and extremely adaptable. And she’s a runt, not a scaredy-cat.”
It felt right, kind of scary, but right. “I want her.”
“And I’ll take him.”
“You might want to think on that. He’s going to require a little bit of work. He’s a sweet dog but he’s not the brightest or sharpest of the lot. One of the others would be easier. I’m just telling you because it’s got to be a good match and you’ve got to know what you’re getting into. Bruiser’s going to be a challenge.”
Northern Fires Page 8
