Ryne watched him, face impassive. “And what about the baby?”
“I’ll arrange for her to have money to cover expenses. The diner where she works, I have part ownership of it. I’ll contact Ashton to make sure she has easy hours. Don’t worry, I won’t shirk my responsibilities.” He gave a chair an extra firm push and the whole table slid several feet.
Ryne raise an eyebrow and Melody gave him a wary look.
“Excuse me.” He clenched his fists at his side, breathing deeply. When he spoke, his voice came out with a distinct growl. “On second thought, please watch the bar for a few days. I feel the need for an extended walk in the woods.”
“Sure.” Ryne rose to his feet and guided Melody towards the door. “I’ll get Bryan to organize the pack into shifts to cover the bar. You know where to find us if you need to talk.”
Giving a quick nod, he willed himself to stay still, to stay in control until the click of the latch signalled they were gone.
Exhaling slowly, he looked around. He was alone in the bar, the dimly-lit room cavernous and yet the walls were pressing in on him, the darkness of the corners invading his thoughts, his heart, the stale air suddenly too thick to breathe.
He needed to leave, to have space around him, an open sky above his head. On autopilot, he turned and exited through the rear door, not even bothering with a coat.
Like a solid wall, the cold hit him, rushing into his lungs and stealing his breath, biting at his flesh until he began to shiver. He welcomed the frigid air, embraced the pain of the cold, needing the numbness to stay in control.
The wind tugged at his shirt, blowing his hair from the tie at his nape so that it whipped his face and obscured his vision. Snow swirled around him, icy pellets stinging his skin.
He didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.
Nothing.
Get away, get away.
The words chanted in his head. He had to get away before the hurt twisting and churning within morphed into a destructive force he’d be unable to curb.
Like an automaton, he plowed through the drifts, stumbling, getting up only to fall once more in the ever-deepening snow. The forest was his goal, the dark pines beckoning to him, offering comfort from the pain searing his soul. If he could get there, he could lose himself in the stark, frozen solitude, let his bear roar and rage, run for miles until the pain was gone and only exhaustion was left.
His feet were numb now, his hair and beard encrusted with snow. Ice was forming on his damp lashes, the world around him now a swirl of white. He should take one more step, but…
He fell to his knees, and bowed his head, no longer knowing or caring where he was, the man with the broken heart fading away, leaving only the bear to exist.
Chapter 28
Roxi sat curled up on the sofa. It was late, the apartment silent and dark except for the faint glow coming from the phone in her hand. She was looking at the device, not really seeing it. More from habit, she’d turned it on but the messages on the screen held no interest so she set it aside and rested her chin on her knees.
There was an ache in her chest and her eyes felt gritty from unshed tears. Roxanne Dominique Accardo didn’t cry. The spikey dampness of her lashes was an inexplicable phenomenon. But if she had been a crier, it would have been because of the argument she and Lulu had had earlier that evening.
She’d really been trying to do the right thing, the responsible thing, by contacting Armand…or his friend. Damn, this was part of what she hated about the world of Others; the secrecy and convoluted half-truths, the need to always be on alert. Humans had it so much easier.
If she weren’t a demi-witch or if Armand hadn’t been a bear shifter, none of this would have happened. Lulu would have her baby and she’d help her, and their lives would have gone on as normal. Instead, there was this big rift between them and it hurt more than she’d ever imagined possible.
A noise in the hallway had her looking up. A shadowy figure was padding to the bathroom. After a minute there was the distinctive sound of flushing and hands being washed, then the bathroom door opened, spilling light into the hallway. The figure stood in the doorway, hesitated and then, rather than returning to the bedroom, headed towards the kitchen.
She bit her lip. Should she say something or just stay quiet?
“You’re still up.” Lulu spoke the words as she made her way to the fridge and took out the milk.
“Yeah.” The statement may or may not have been an olive branch but she grabbed it. Uncurling from the sofa, she walked towards the kitchen, stopping with the breakfast counter between them. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me, either.” Lulu poured a glass of milk and drank it.
“Heartburn?”
“Yeah. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that much pizza.”
She waited a beat, staring down at the pattern on the counter, then took a deep breath and spoke. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault I have heartburn.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” Lulu exhaled slowly. “I know what you mean. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
“You’d had a bad day—”
“That’s still not an excuse—”
“And I messed up by calling—”
“You were just trying to help—”
They both stopped and gave a soft laugh, realizing they were talking over each other.
Roxi squared her shoulders, determined to do this apology properly. “I really am sorry, Lulu…I mean…Lucy.”
“It’s okay. I guess I really don’t mind you calling me Lulu.” She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “It’s sort of fun.”
“Good, because I don’t think I can call you Lucy.”
“And then I’d have to call you Roxanne.”
“And then I’d keep thinking you were my mother and mad at me.”
“No worries there. I am not going to act like I’m your mother. I’m sure this little one will keep me busy enough.” She rubbed her belly. “And as for telling Armand, maybe you did me a favour. I wasn’t sure what to say to him and now it’s out of my hands.”
“He’ll call tomorrow I’m sure, unless he ends up pounding on our door like last time.”
“Yeah. And then I still won’t know what to say to him.”
Roxi grinned, pleased with how things were going to work out. “I bet you won’t have to say anything. He’ll wrap you and the baby in a huge bear hug and it will be all ‘happily ever after’ just like it’s supposed to be.”
In the middle of the night, Lou had thought Roxi’s prediction sounded wonderful except….there was no call from Armand.
She kept her phone nearby, her heart beating faster at the very thought of hearing his voice, except it never rang. Resting at home as the doctor had ordered, she tried to read a book but the storyline didn’t hold her interest and the movie she found had a depressingly familiar plot featuring a single mother and a father who denied the child was his.
Her hand crept over her abdomen and rubbed gently as a frisson of doubt passed over her. Armand wouldn’t abandon her like that. Would he?
Roxi offered reassurance over dinner. “He’s probably decided to come here, that’s why you haven’t heard from him. This Stump River place, you said it was in the middle of nowhere, right?”
“It is. It takes hours to drive to a large city, especially in winter.” She poked at the food on her plate. Waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop was robbing her of her appetite.
“There you have it. It will take time for him to drive to an airport and get a flight to Chicago.” Roxi cut into her pork chop. “He’ll be here tomorrow for sure.”
“Right.” She forced herself to eat, knowing the baby needed the nourishment. “Tomorrow.”
But tomorrow and the next day and the day after that didn’t bring a call or a knock on the door, nor did Armand appear at the diner demanding she explain herself. Worry had her stomach in knots
and her blood pressure rising.
“Are you all right, Lou?” Ashton gave her a worried look.
“I’m fine.” She tried to brush her concerns away, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“The evidence says otherwise. You’re pale, there are dark circles under your eyes.” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “You need to go home and relax.”
“Ashton, that’s kind of you but I can’t afford to take time off.”
“Yes, you can. We’ve updated employee benefits to increase the number of sick days you’re allowed.”
“What?” She furrowed her brow. “I didn’t hear about this.”
“We were going to have a staff meeting about it next week. You’re just getting the news ahead of everyone else.” He gave her a bland smile.
She folded her arms. “I don’t believe you. Working conditions for waitresses are—”
“Different at other diners. Here we treat our employees well. Happy employees, happy customers.”
Opening her mouth to speak, he took her by the shoulders and steered her to the closet.
“Get your coat on, go home and rest. Owner’s orders.”
She did as she was told, albeit reluctantly. While it would be nice to rest—she hadn’t been sleeping well—it also gave her more time to think.
As she sat with her feet up, she considered the possibilities. Maybe Ryne hadn’t told him?
No, Ryne always did what he said he’d do.
Armand could be away on one of his wilderness trips.
But it’s winter and he usually didn’t go out in the winter.
Did his silence mean he’d found someone else?
That idea caused a pain in the region of her heart. While she might have told him he was free, the actual reality of him acting on her words was hard to handle. Her mind formed an image of Armand kissing another woman, touching her, making love… She felt ill and stood up to look out the window, hoping to erase the mental picture.
The view wasn’t spectacular, just the brick wall of the building next door but if she angled sideways, she could see the street, watch the people walking by… Or maybe slipping by was more accurate given the sleety slushy mess that was currently falling.
About to turn away, she spotted someone. A man, tall and muscular, dark hair peeking out from under his knit hat. Hope surged inside her and she pressed close to the window, sure it was Armand. When the man suddenly lifted an arm to wave and then veered across the street, she had to hang on to the window frame to keep herself upright. Her pathetic needy self had somehow transformed a normal pedestrian into Armand.
Pushing off from the window, she shivered and went to make a warm drink. The windows leaked around the frame and a cold draft seeped into the apartment. Or maybe it was just the coldness that was settling inside her at the knowledge Armand didn’t care she was pregnant with his child. It was the only logical explanation.
Maybe that movie she’d been watching was right. Men weren’t reliable. Hadn’t she said the same thing herself back when she lived in Stump River? Then she’d accepted it as a fact but for some reason she’d forgotten. She’d bought into the whole fairy tale idea of happily-ever-after and had expected Armand to come charging up on his white steed to save her.
It wasn’t going to happen though. Despite the distance, if Armand had cared, if he’d wanted her, he would have been here by now. Even if there was bad weather messing with the roads and flight schedules. She took a deep breath to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. Being pregnant was making her weepy but she refused to give in to the need to cry.
Pressing her lips together, she raised her chin. She’d get through this, just like thousands of other women before her.
She was waiting for the kettle to boil when Roxi came home.
“Did you hear from Armand?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Roxi’s shoulders slumped. “I was sure that—”
She shook her head. “He’s not going call or even fly here.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s been almost a week.”
“Maybe he’s sending a letter?”
“A letter?” She poured water from the kettle into her mug and poked at the little sachet that contained some concoction of non-caffeinated herbal tea. It was an acquired taste—or so she’d been told. At least it was warm and better for the baby.
“Yeah, I guess that’s not too likely.” Roxi shoved her hands in her pockets. “I expected better from him. He seemed like a good guy.”
“They always do until you need them.” She removed the tea bag and took a sip of the brew. It wasn’t bad, not great but drinkable.
“Well, it’s not like we need him. We can handle this ourselves.”
“Yep.” She paused, considering her words. “You know, Roxi, you don’t have to feel obligated—”
“Whoa! Wait a minute. Don’t try to squeeze me out of this baby gig.”
“Baby gig?”
“Yeah. You need me and I’m here until you pop and even after. Just because Armand left you in a lurch, doesn’t mean I will.”
“But—”
“I know at the beginning I wasn’t too sure about this, even though I acted like it was all fine; but now that I’m used to the idea, I’m all for it. I’m going to be an honorary aunt and that’s the end of it.”
“Oh. Okay.” She felt her lips move into a goofy smile and a feeling of relief spread through her. Roxi was really being great about this and it felt good to know she had someone on her side; she’d been more worried than she’d let on.
“You know, you could call that Ryne guy.” Roxi began to search the cupboards.
“Call Ryne? Why?”
“If you’re curious about what’s going on and how Armand took the news.”
Did she want to know? What if Armand had denied the baby was his? Or said he didn’t care? Knowing wouldn’t make a difference and it might hurt to actually hear the words. This way she would always hope there was another, less painful reason why Armand hadn’t contacted her. And involving Ryne in her personal troubles wasn’t fair. He might feel obligated to help her and that wasn’t what she wanted. “No. Ryne has his own life, his own family.”
“Oh. Okay.” Roxi shrugged, a bag of croutons in her hand. “It was just an idea.”
“It would have been nice to have Armand here but he isn’t, so I’ll make the best of it.”
“Yep, life and lemonade and all that.” Roxi gave her a friendly shoulder bump. “We’ll do this together. You and me against the world.”
Later that night, Roxi sat on her bed, staring at the contacts on her phone. She had Ryne and Armand’s numbers, her brain having remembered both. Her curiosity was niggling at her; what was going on in Stump River? Had Ryne really told Armand about the baby and Armand was just being a douche? Or had Ryne not carried through with the job she’d sort of dumped on him?
She toyed with calling and asking, however if Lulu found out, it would be the end of their friendship. Lulu had forgiven her once, but a second time wasn’t too likely. Reluctantly, she set the phone on her bedside table and crawled under the covers.
No calling, no calling, no calling. She chanted the words in her head.
Damn, she could still see the phone. Her fingers almost twitched with the need to place the call. She sat up and grabbed the phone and opened up the messages. Texting wasn’t calling, was it? There was always a way around things.
She started to compose a message but then stopped. No, she wouldn’t do it. This was exactly what Lulu had accused her of doing, twisting things around to suit herself. It was Lulu’s life and she had no right to play games with it. Padding across the room, she shoved the phone in her underwear drawer and hip-checked it shut.
Out of sight, out of mind.
She flopped down on the bed again and turned her back on the dresser. Doing the right thing shouldn’t be this hard. No wonder so many people ended up in trouble.
Chapter 29
Spring had finally arrived. Armand pushed open the windows, letting the warm breeze and sunshine into the kitchen at the rear of the bar and then propped open the front door so the air could sweep through the building. Winter had seemed exceptionally long, the bitter pain in his heart encasing him in an icy prison that had been impenetrable to feelings or the warmth of friendship.
Yet grief didn’t last forever. Like a blade of grass pushing through frozen tundra he’d returned to life. It had been a slow, quiet process, one he wasn’t even aware was occurring until one day he saw the rays of sunshine struggling through the grime on his windows, noticed the spring runoff filling the streams and nourishing the small yellow trout lilies that grew near the back of his property. He felt alive again, not the same man he’d been, but alive. He’d continue on, not down the path of his choosing but it was out of his control, so he needed to make the best of it.
“Armand!” Josh Kennedy, co-owner of the newspaper, called out as he headed to his car. “Spring cleaning already?”
“Already?” He shook his head. “I’m a month behind. It should have happened in April.”
“Yep, late spring this year.” Josh opened the door of his car and tossed a bundle of newspapers in the backseat. “I’m off to deliver the Gazette. Talk to you later.”
Armand raised his hand in a wave then turned to survey his establishment.
He’d already washed the windows and used a broom to remove the cobwebs from the corners of the rooms. Giving the floors an extra thorough scrubbing would be next on his list and then cleaning the shelves that housed the various bottles of liquor. Some in town scoffed at his yearly ritual, pointing out the interior of a bar was usually dark and no one noticed his efforts. While it might be true, his inner animal awakened in the spring and he figured he might as well put that energy to good use.
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