by LoRee Peery
Once she knew she was indeed a child of the King, she’d forgiven her stepfather, her mother, and Barton. But what they had done to her impacted her life, changed her in ways she couldn’t forget.
Aiden had been concerned about her having adequate heat in the cabin. After being so chilled, she’d fallen asleep due to the natural wood heat. The cabin was now too hot.
Where was Aiden?
Lightning flashed. Thunder followed. And it was snowing outside. Giant clusters of wet snow slid down the windows. The world was white beyond the glass.
God controlled the weather. Even in Nebraska. He was here. Who would believe lightning and thunder and snow chasing one another?
And with that thought of the Almighty, courage replaced the fear that had awakened her. Beth shook her head. She heard the clunking of wood being stacked on the porch. Then, boots pounding off snow, followed by a knock on her door.
“Beth, I’m back,” Aiden called.
She liked his voice the more she heard it. Maybe she wasn’t growing as comfortable in the woods by herself as she had imagined.
5
Aiden ducked as he entered Beth’s cabin. The ceiling closed in on him. “I feel like a giant in a leprechaun’s house. These ceilings must only be seven foot tall!”
Beth used her body to mime shrinking. “I’m told the original lady who lived here was only four foot eleven.”
The warmth of dry heat welcomed him. Beth held out her hand as he shucked his wet coat. She smelled like rain-washed air in the small space. Once he was free of his coat, he shook himself like a bear.
Beth flinched back, her eyes filled with terror in her suddenly pale face.
Judging by the vibes she put off, some big guy had really done a number on her.
“Sorry. Guess I take up too much room.” He looked deep into her eyes, softened his voice. “I don’t want you to ever be afraid of me, Beth. You’re getting yourself all wet.”
“I know. I’ll dry. And I know I need to relax. I can be skittish. I don’t see you as a threat to me, Aiden. I wouldn’t let you near if I did feel that way.” Her face lit with the tease. Then she sobered just as fast. “But I fear you may be a threat to the wolf’s wellbeing.”
“Time will tell on that one.”
She held his wet coat away from her body, disbelief clouding her face. “How would you know about size used as intimidation? I imagine you’ve always been big.”
“I know what it’s like. I’ve been pushed around by a big man. The guy who tried to be aggressive with me when I was young was also a bigwig in his church. I called him a hypocrite for the way he treated teenaged boys. That’s a story for another day.” At the pain he saw in her eyes, Aiden lowered his voice. “Fer sure, I haven’t always been big. I was once a young kid with a giant hovering over me.”
She motioned for him to take a seat in the blue camp chair closest to the stove. Then she stuck the tip of a broom handle in the hood of his coat before leaning it against the wall to dry by the fire. She moved closer, between the stove and his chair.
“It’s my turn to be sorry. I still have some hurts to put behind me,” she said, more to the stovetop than to him.
Winds and whistles thundered like a freight train outside the cabin. The only sound in the room came from the hiss of burning logs, soothing and relaxing, scenting the air with wood smoke.
He watched Beth lift a stainless steel thermos from the back of the stove and shake it. Her movements flowed with strength and sureness. Rosy color from the heat brushed her cheeks as she unscrewed the lid and poured steaming, deliciously fragrant hot chocolate into two hefty ceramic mugs.
She handed one to him, then eased into a matching red camp chair and rested her drink on her knee. “So, we’re going to be here awhile. We might as well get to know one another. Tell me about some big, intimidating brute getting in your face.”
He blew a stream of air, figured she wouldn’t let it go. “I had a high school guidance counselor who was also the assistant football coach. The guy was a perfect picture of what happens when a Nebraska Cornhusker lineman turns to flab. His body was almost square, as broad through the seat as his shoulders gone soft. Anyway, when I was sixteen, this guy glowered at me while I was seated on the locker-room bench. ‘You’ll play football if you want to graduate,’ he warned me.”
Her bottom lip twitched when he changed his tone of voice, but she didn’t really smile. “Your imitation is almost funny, but the subject matter is far from it.”
He knew she identified with the bullying. She showed strength when she caught the humor in the situation, and he almost laughed. He focused on her lips as she sipped the hot chocolate. Time stilled when she licked the corner of her mouth. He cleared his throat at the idea of tasting the chocolate on her lips.
“You wanted to graduate. I would imagine that scared you into playing football. I take it you did, since you obviously went on to college.”
He jerked his gaze off her face. He’d much rather be talking about her.
“Do you fear anything now?”
Wow. The woman could cut to the quick of a man. He swirled the liquid in his cup, watched the dark chocolate mix with the lighter milky mess. Then he tossed it back, scalding his throat and beyond. He winced, coughed, felt his eyes fill. Still, he somehow managed to continue. “Only one thing comes to mind. I think I’m afraid of turning my back on anyone who depends on me.”
The way my father did when I needed him most.
He wanted to tell her to quit pushing, but he liked the sound of her hushed voice. His fingers itched. He leaned back, straightened his legs, and stretched as far as the chair would allow so he could reach into his pocket to fiddle with the keys he retrieved.
The keys chinked against each other as he worked them, searching for the right words. He wanted to know about her. He raised his gaze to study her face. Her hair was a mess, but he was learning to like the mishmash of her do. “Your turn. What do you fear?”
Beth reached for his mug, and walked out of the room with both empties. When she returned, she ran her hands over his coat. Obviously dried to her satisfaction, she unhooked it from its makeshift hanger and crossed behind him to smooth the shoulders of the coat around the back of Aiden’s chair.
A locked-up longing rose to his throat at the brief brush of her fingers against his back.
“I hate feeling helpless, small, without power while trapped in the grip of a man’s clutches. No matter what the feminists say, it’s still a man’s world.” She laughed, bitterness robbing the sound of any joy. Once she was seated again, she turned her face away.
Her profile was fragile yet determined. If she ever grasped her own strength, she’d be a power to be reckoned with.
“Do you feel trapped here in the cabin with me now?”
“Before I answer that, I’ll tell you how frustrated I’ve felt sometimes as a small woman in a world run by men.” She faced him. Her eyes lit up. “It actually isn’t a man’s world. According to the Bible, God handed the world over to Satan. But God will get it back at the right time. Our Lord is still sovereign in the lives of His people.”
A tight tug yanked at his chest and settled in his core. Every time he heard a reference to God these days, he felt it in his gut. He wanted to search the depths of her eyes, but she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
“It really doesn’t matter to me who supposedly controls the world,” Aiden said. “I’m simply a man trying to do a job here. Not that I can work right now. By the sound of that wind, we’ll be here for a time, yet. Anything else you want to talk about? Besides other men or God, that is.”
He bounced the bundle of keys out of his cupped hand, caught them in the air, and stood. God-talk always made him nervous. The Christians of his experience had been hypocrites. He peeked through the doorway to her bedroom. Other than a neatly made air bed and stacks of clothing, he saw nothing personal. Unless one was to consider a twenty-pound hammer next to a flashlight as perso
nal.
“I don’t see any board games or a computer. So guess we’ll just keep talking. I’ll start. Did you grow up here in Platteville?”
“I did.” She met his gaze. “But I was born in Omaha.”
“Really? I have an aunt who lives there. What about your parents?” He shouldn’t have asked. Now she’d want to know about his parents. He resettled in the camp chair, stared at the blue, red, and yellow flames through the stove door.
“Imperfect as anyone else’s, I imagine. My real dad left before I formed any memory of him. I don’t like to talk about my stepdad. He and my mom took off after I left home. The family doesn’t know or care where they are. Do your parents live in Minnesota?”
There it was. Aiden wouldn’t get into his father’s abandonment. “My mother was my whole world. She was killed in a car accident when I was thirteen. Dad’s sister, my Aunt Elgene, lived with us. She was a great influence, until my father remarried.”
And I’ll always be thankful to Aunt Elgene for saving my butt when she cared for me while the folks were in Alaska.
“I’m so sorry, Aiden.” Her voice was so soft he had to lean forward to hear.
He was done talking about the parent topic. “Let’s talk wolf.”
“Isn’t the whole lone wolf thing romanticized?”
“Pretty much. Wolves are meant to be part of a pack. This wolf of yours won’t find his reason for living until he finds a mate. I’m guessing he’s an omega that didn’t fit the comedic role, and now he wants to be an alpha. Or he wants to be an alpha, but wasn’t strong enough to threaten the existing one. Then again, they’re unpredictable.”
“Wow. You know a lot about wolves.”
He fidgeted, but left his keys alone. “Not because I was interested or had personal experience. My father is a wolf biologist.”
“That explains it. So do you think Lakota needs to find a mate?”
“There’s your romance if you want to get fanciful. He’s probably looking for like company. It takes a pack to bring down large game. I don’t believe there will be any major livestock loss for the farmers around here. Yet. Fawns left alone won’t be safe with a wolf around. That doesn’t mean farmers won’t raise a stink once word is out.”
“Did you find anything significant before the weather blew in? Any sign of Lakota this morning?”
“Found a turkey carcass, or I should say, clumps of feathers. But I think the wolf is staying clear of me. Once we tag him, we’ll keep track of his whereabouts by the radio collar.”
“I saw him this morning. I had a little help with naming him Lakota, but I’ll get into that later.” She beamed him a full wattage smile that hit him in the solar plexus. “I like the idea that you said we. He might approach me, but it would take both of us to get a collar on him!”
“Actually, the we I’m hoping for is help from Game and Parks. But we’re short-staffed at the moment.”
He rose again, started to pace. Even with the hint of wood smoke and the underlying smell of moldy decay from the back rooms, he could smell Beth. She was fresh spring in person.
And her touch was still branded on his back.
****
Beth’s insides had been fluttery and nervous ever since her fingers grazed Aiden’s back. Had he felt it, too? That zing was still there. She’d folded her hands between her knees, trying to get rid of the tingle, but the connection remained.
It didn’t help that she had imagined being held by him.
Even though the Lord fulfilled her deepest longings, she still yearned for a human touch, the assurance she could be wanted for the right reasons.
She jumped up from her chair, as antsy as Aiden for something to do. She’d been tempted by too many men. Didn’t want to go there. He was a decent enough guy, but too much was as stake for her to be so attracted.
Attraction. Could that be the reason he was restless?
“Would you mind bringing in a couple logs?” She didn’t give him the chance to answer. She yanked his coat off the chair and turned, arms outstretched. Aiden was so close in the small room, leaning forward and invading her space, that her knuckles hit him in the sternum. Awareness of his body heat, his nearness, awakened her nerve endings.
He bent nearer still. She smelled the chocolate on his breath. He pulled her towards him until only her hands fisted in the folds of his coat separated them.
In slow motion, he lowered his head. Only his strong arm supporting her back kept her from falling. She raised her face degree by degree, trying to concentrate on his sparkling, multi-colored brown eyes. But then she saw only his lips as he drew closer. His smell came close to intoxicating her. She was a goner. Aiden tasted as good as he smelled, earthy. Like fresh new leaves, wood, straight-from-the-trees outdoors, and a little smoky from her own fire.
Meeting his lips was as familiar as a recurring dream, yet as frightening as a nightmare.
His arms pulled her to him. The coat sighed to the floor.
She felt her hands encircle his neck as though they had a mind of their own. In Aiden’s arms, Beth felt as fragile as a sapling fighting for survival during the spring storm.
He pulled back. Had he felt what she did at their explosive connection?
She kept her eyes closed, and concentrated on savoring the moment as she felt his warm breath on her face.
The reality of being in Aiden’s arms was an exaggeration of any white-knight fantasy. His arms again obliterated the outside world.
Her whole body jolted at the intensity of their next kiss. The pressure of his lips deepened and swept her away. Sanity eventually returned. Beth turned her head and pushed on his shoulders. Did he react the way she had, with spots and flashes behind her eyelids? Would she reveal too much of those fireworks when she opened her eyes? She didn’t want him to view her as vulnerable.
“I’ve tried to imagine how you would taste.” He reached for her hands and lowered them in his. “You are the real deal, Ms. Beth Phillips.”
No. I’m all mixed up.
Lord, why would you bring someone like Aiden into my life when I’ve had such a weakness for men in the past?
That old looking-for-love-in-all-the-wrong-places phrase hit her full force. Now that she was a Christian, she had no business becoming interested in a man who, by all indications, didn’t share her faith. She took two giant steps backward, until she felt a camp chair against her leg.
But space between them meant nothing. Aiden had slid under her defenses and rattled her solitary foundation.
“I’ll help keep your wolf safe,” he rasped as he bent to retrieve his coat. “Keep your Lakota safe.”
His pronouncement rocked her to the marrow.
As his promise to help the wolf sank in, her mouth remained open. Before she could formulate a response, he shut the door behind him.
****
Beth battled a storm within. She paced. The raging wind sounded ominous as it warred through the treetops.
She’d returned to Platteville to escape a man’s brutality. She was sequestered in a cabin cut off from neighbors so she could spend time with the Lord and discover His will for her future. And bingo, what occupied her thoughts? A man. Rather, a particular man and the way his kisses unbalanced her equilibrium.
Why in the world had Aiden closed in on her that way?
Their isolation? Their conversation and admission of what scared them?
He couldn’t possibly be as conflicted by their kisses as she.
And what possessed her to respond? Was she lonely, after all? At that idea, she resumed her seat.
Maybe he was just bored, and that’s why he’d initiated the contact. She had a cure for their boredom. She knew just what they could do as they waited out the storm. She laughed out loud at the idea of handing him tools in order to demolish back rooms of the cabin.
Conflicted or bored, he said he was going to check on something. But he hadn’t returned since he replenished the stack of wood inside the cabin.
S
he fought jittery agitation, too revved up over that kiss to settle at first. Then she relaxed. A huge crackle followed by a booming crash yanked her straight out of the chair where she’d been nodding off.
Beth knew without flicking a switch the power was out. The loss of light took care of her demolition plans. Without sufficient light they couldn’t tear into the other bedroom.
She bundled up and stepped outside to check on what was taking Aiden so long. She blew a huge exhalation that turned to vapor in the air. Snow crunched beneath her heavy boots. Icy pellets of wind-driven snow slapped her in the face. The wooden porch groaned in protest when she stepped on the frozen surface.
She leaned around one edge of the porch and peered to the side of the cabin. No sign of fire caused by a fallen tree on power lines.
Blowing snow swirled into a drift three feet high off the other end of the porch. She watched her step so she wouldn’t slide off.
Beneath the howling wind, she thought she heard movement in the closest brush. Seeing nothing unusual, she concluded the noise must have come from a small creature huddled for safety from the storm.
She ventured off the front of the narrow porch, where her flashlight beam caught the swirling snow. The maelstrom was mesmerizing; she felt drawn into the center of a giant spider mum, where wind-tossed tentacles pulled the eye towards the thick, white center.
Her truck was buried under white. But there was no matching mound. Aiden’s Jeep was gone. In the world of swirling white, she could barely tell where it had been parked. Any tracks the Jeep tires left were now indistinguishable.
He took off? Why would he leave like that?
Concern for his safety turned into a prayer. “Lord, that man and his four-by-four could get stuck in a snowstorm as easily as any other. Please watch over him, wherever he is.”
She swiveled to retrace her steps and lost her footing just short of the porch. She slid to the ground before she completed the thought of where Aiden may have gone.
