Someone to Trust

by Kay Lyons

  The aurora borealis shimmered overhead and the water lapped gently against the floating dock. Dylan stood quietly, staring out at the night and feeling the weight of his loneliness gouge deep.

  Longing slammed into him, for Alexandra, for Colt. For more than the life they had right now. But how much could he have when it meant opening Colt and himself up to more pain than they’d already endured? He’d bet cold hard cash that Alexandra didn’t know who he was. What if he told her?

  A particularly impressive dance enacted overhead and Alexandra laughed at the sight, reaching out to lay her hand, then her head, on his arm as though she wanted a connection to the moment. She lifted her face to stare at him and the battle raging inside him was lost.

  Shifting, Dylan cupped her cheek, her silky hair sliding over his glove in a soft embrace. She was womanly. Sugar and spice, everything strong. Independent.

  Dylan used his hold to tug her closer. He’d craved the feel of her mouth ever since Colt had interrupted them. No. Truth be told, he’d craved it ever since she’d arrived with her prissy luggage, silly hat and polished fingernails.

  Alexandra tried to get closer but couldn’t quite reach him due to the difference in their height.

  He finally claimed the kiss he wanted, quickly becoming pulled in by the taste of her, the sweet tinge of mint and sleep.

  The ice-cold tip of her nose met his cheek and Alexandra opened for him, willing and responsive, teasing but shy.

  He deepened the kiss with a muffled groan.

  Alexandra’s hands slid up his chest and encircled his neck, her fingers gripping his hair when the kiss turned into an ongoing caress that changed angles and pressure and intensity but didn’t end. The camera poked, uncomfortable and hard between them, a reminder of the past he chose to ignore. For now.

  Their hands were restricted because of their layers of clothing, but the passion was there, instantaneous and full of sizzle with every stroke, every nip and nibble and taste. Still, despite the heat they created, he was conscious that she shivered in his arms. “You’re cold?”

  He whispered the words against her cheek, moving on to taste the tender skin of her neck above the collar of her coat. Another shiver.

  “A little. Warm me up?”

  It was a challenge and request. One no man could pass up.

  Dylan took her hand and lowered himself into the empty chair. Settling deep, he guided her down, glad Zeke had made the chairs oversize after pointing out fishermen weren’t always the thin type.

  Once Alexandra was on his lap, he snuggled her close and ran his hands up and down her body, briskly for warmth, more slowly to learn the shape of her. His head buried into her neck beneath the sweet scent of her hair. He found a particularly sensitive spot, one that elicited a breathy gasp and the clasp of her gloved fingers in his hair once more.

  White-hot heat shot through him at the sound and feel of her response and he claimed her mouth, kissing her with all the desire he felt.

  Alexandra was a free fall into unfamiliar territory, beautiful and seductive, an adventure calling to him. Even though he wanted to make the leap, his past kept him tied.

  What was he doing? Risking?

  Ending the kiss, his breath blew white in the freezing air. Dylan leaned his head back against the wooden slats.

  After a while, once the urgency he’d felt was replaced with resignation, he prompted her to her feet. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the lodge before you freeze.”

  * * *

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING Dylan abandoned the pretense of reading the book in front of him. His dreams of Alexandra dragged his focus to her repeatedly even though he tried to concentrate on the words.

  He’d left her at her bedroom door, feeling her confused gaze boring a hole into his back. What guy kissed a woman like that and then—nothing?

  He rubbed his eyes, mad at himself. His reaction to her was too strong, especially since there was so much more at stake than sex or his former identity.

  “Mornin’.” Zeke smiled at him.

  Dylan decided he wasn’t remotely ready for the day to begin. “Why are you so chipper?”

  “Oh, stop your bellyaching before your face freezes like that. Or did other parts of you freeze last night out on the dock?”

  “You were spying on me?”

  Zeke filled the kettle and put it on to boil. “Saw the lights and got up to watch. You want oatmeal?”

  Tea, oatmeal. His father had been taken over by an alien. The man had eaten eggs and bacon all his life. After his heart attack he’d changed his eating habits—great news in and of itself—but his new take on life included being a harping pain.

  “I already ate.”

  “Make the toast then, would you?”

  Sighing, Dylan pushed himself up from the chair and moved toward the toaster by the stove. He thought he’d escaped his father’s censure but at the last second Zeke’s gaze narrowed on the book Dylan had flipped cover up on the table.

  “Son, how many times do I have to tell you you’re not going to find the answer to Colt’s problems in a book?”

  “It doesn’t hurt to read about other cases of trauma-induced muteness like Colt’s.”

  “He’ll come out of it when he’s ready.”

  Frustrated and cranky, he swore. “And when will that be? You might be content to wait on it to happen, but I’m tired of waiting. I want my son back, I want him to be—” He broke off in time, about to say normal. But it was true. He wanted Colt to be normal again. He wanted Colt to talk and laugh. But what about their life was normal?

  Dylan had to take full responsibility for Colt being unable to do any of those things. Every day Colt remained silent ripped another bullet-size hole in Dylan’s heart.

  “You need to let things happen as they happen. The docs said it best. He’ll start talking again when he’s ready and not a moment before.” Zeke poured out a measure of oats. “Sort of like you moving on with Alex.”

  Dylan closed his eyes briefly. He wasn’t moving on with Alexandra. He wasn’t doing anything with Alexandra. “Nothing happened.”

  “Too bad. She’s a nice girl. Get the impression she comes from a nice family, too. Not like Lauren or that Belinda woman who sold you and Colt out to the jackals. Those two played you like a fiddle.”

  Yeah, like he needed the reminder?

  Zeke had never liked Lauren and what he called her hoity-toity ways. As to Belinda… Thinking about her deception set his teeth on edge. Colt’s nanny had been a surprisingly good actress at a time when his world had been reeling on its axis. He’d believed her lies, until the day he’d woke up to the fact there had been too many coincidences between pictures appearing in the tabloids and her.

  Now that he thought about it, his track record with women wasn’t great. Why think Alexandra would be any different once he got below the surface? That reminder might be the key to getting through the rest of the week without being tempted to kiss her again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Why not? Alex ain’t cut from the same cloth as the other two. Lauren and Belinda knew their way around men. I might not know much, but I can tell Alex isn’t like that.”

  That had yet to be determined. Only time would tell.

  Which is something they didn’t have since she was leaving soon.

  He swore again. Things between them needed to end here. There was too much at stake. But what was he going to do for the rest of his life? Surely there was someone out there who could accept him at face value?

  The image of Alexandra standing on the dock, her smiling face lifted to the heavens, came to mind even as he tried to block it.

  “Son, I want what’s best for you and Colt.”

  “If you wanted that, you’d stop this lodge nonsense. You really want strangers crawling all over the place? I have enough money to cover the bills. You could invite Ansel and Walt and some of your other buddies up and entertain them if you want company, but otherwise we could live in peace.�
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  Zeke shook the spoon he used to stir the oatmeal at Dylan. “I’ve already told you I’m not taking your money. A man’s got to make his own living in this world and work for what he has. Now you said you wanted to earn your keep, and piloting while I’m grounded and pitching in with the fishing tours and such does that. I always intended to rent this place as a lodge and you knew that when you came here.”

  He had, but he’d convinced himself he could change Zeke’s mind. “How can we stay if it means the vultures might find me and Colt again?”

  “Maybe it’d be good if they did,” Zeke said. “Least then you’d have to confront the past and realize it’s over. Everybody’s moved on but you.”

  Dylan had a hard time believing that was true.

  “You were news for a while,” Zeke continued. “But folks know they can’t believe what’s said just because it’s on TV or in those tabloids. And what keeps anybody from finding you now if they really wanted to? Any P.I. worth his salt could locate you in a day or less.”

  “I don’t want it to start up again.”

  “I know. That’s why I backed off getting a new satellite system because you threw such a fit about it giving folks Internet access. Most guys coming here bring guns and fishing poles, not computers. But what about when they get home? Anybody looked you up and blabbed it to the press yet?” He pointed the spoon at Dylan again. “You don’t even know because we can’t keep track up here. Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. But it could happen at any time and you need to be prepared for it. Get your head out of your butt and stop blaming yourself because Colt’s being stubborn about talking. Surely you can find something better to do. Like go kiss Alex again.”

  “You just pointed out that she’s not like Lauren or Belinda. Doesn’t that mean she deserves to know the truth?”

  “That’s your call. If you think so, then tell her,” Zeke ordered. “Or be the man you are and let her get to know you so she can make her own decision. Either way the clock’s ticking.”

  That it was. But what should he do?

  Not having an answer, Dylan shoved himself away from the counter and headed to the door to grab his coat off the peg. “I’ve got work to do.”

  How did something seemingly so simple get so complicated?

  Maybe that was his answer. He didn’t need a woman scrambling his brain again. For that reason alone he wanted her gone, needed her gone.

  “Dylan, not everyone is out to get you. It’s hard to trust again after you’ve been treated the way you have, but a man ain’t nothing if he can’t see outside himself.”

  He knew that. He knew it well because that was the beginning of his downfall. For a while he’d been entirely wrapped up in his life and his career, his image, until he’d learned the rich man’s lesson of putting material things first.

  Now he wondered if he’d ever hear Colt’s voice again.

  “You called me a fool for dumping my money into this pit, but I needed a fresh start after your mama died. Sometimes we all do. This pit has served us both well, hasn’t it?”

  Then why risk what they’d built here at Deadwood?

  Dylan had to be realistic. With his face having been splashed all over the news, the odds were most women would make snap judgments. They’d never be able to relax around him, get to know him. Instead they would wonder and question the real truth. It would take a miracle to find someone who would believe his side of the story and he couldn’t stand the thought of the woman in his life awake beside him, afraid to close her eyes.

  But if Alexandra was here only a few more days, how involved could they get? If she could accept his scars, why bring up his identity?

  “Dylan, you suffered a blow but you’re still entitled to have a life. Colt’s getting older. He needs to start school and there isn’t one here.”

  Yet another reason for him to agree to the satellite system. “I’ve been thinking about that. You should have a satellite set up, for emergencies if nothing else. Using the radio can be complicated if I’m not here and one of the guests has to try to figure it out. Why don’t you go ahead and get it? I’ll pay for half and use it to find Colt an online classroom.”

  Zeke set down the stack of bowls he’d pulled from the cabinet with a bang.

  Dylan looked up at the sound. “What? I thought you’d be happy.”

  “Happy? Why would I be happy about that? Colt needs other kids his own age, to learn to play and to do things away from you and me. He don’t need you hovering over him every minute of every day.”

  Dylan paused in the act of putting on his gloves, ignoring the lurch of fear in his gut. “What are you saying?”

  Zeke’s green eyes held a brutal honesty Dylan wasn’t prepared to see. Surely Zeke wasn’t implying what he thought?

  “I knew you needed to get your feet back under you but I never intended for you to stay forever. You don’t belong here, son.”

  The comment floored him like a prizefighter’s KO punch. His feet were under him, at least they had been until Zeke had come right out and verbalized what Dylan had already wondered. Zeke was trying to get rid of him and Colt, thought they’d overstayed their welcome?

  He didn’t know which was worse, the anger and hurt he felt that Zeke wanted them gone, or the fear of what would happen away from the safety of Deadwood Mountain. Both made it hard to breathe.

  Moving to Alaska had been about licking his wounds and protecting his son, getting away. Colt’s emotional health was fragile, the pieces only now mending together after being shattered to bits. Hover? He felt he owed it to Colt after missing so much of his son’s first two years. He’d hover over Colt forever if it meant making his son feel safe. The kid had lived through hell, survived the very flames of it, and he deserved to have someone care enough to hover.

  Sweat broke out on Dylan’s forehead and his heart thumped hard and heavy in his chest. He glared at his father, so angry he shook with the force of it. “This is our home now, too. You didn’t do this on your own. I’ve invested time and labor into this place. You want me to uproot Colt again? You’re not going to be cleared to fly now and you know it. Who’s going to fly in your guests?”

  “Like you want to do that for the rest of your life,” Zeke countered. “The only reason you agreed this time was because you knew I’d do it myself if you didn’t.”

  He didn’t deny Zeke’s claim.

  “It’s time to stop running, son. And kissing that girl last night is a good way to start. Don’t screw it up by letting her get away when she’s the only thing in two years other than Colt that’s made you wake up in the morning and care about something.”

  Zeke implied a relationship. But any relationship Dylan could possibly have would be doomed. Zeke didn’t know everything. He didn’t know the secret Dylan kept, and no relationship could thrive or survive without trust. He couldn’t trust anyone with the truth, with knowledge that could destroy both him and Colt.

  Nothing was worth that risk. No one was worth the risk.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I never said it would be easy. Just tell Alex what happened and get it out there, see what she says. That girl might surprise you. She’s surprised all of us here, hasn’t she? I sure haven’t heard her complain, have you?”

  She hadn’t complained. She probably would have stood in that lake all day with her teeth chattering like a novelty store toy until she caught a fish. He admired her tenacity. Her behavior made him think maybe she could handle the truth of his past and the problems and headaches that came with it.

  But what if he was wrong? Once she knew, there was no taking it back and a part of him didn’t want to see her look at him the way so many others had, with fear or horror in her eyes.

  Dylan walked out the door without responding, unable to be in the same room with Zeke when so much had been said about a future that seemed so out of his control.

  He’d done the right thing last night by calling a halt and leaving Alexandra at her door. True nastiness was p
eople on a manhunt, ready for vigilante justice. True fear? Sitting in a jail cell without bond when his three-year-old needed him most, all because he was considered a flight risk.

  Why would he set himself up to fall again?

  No, Zeke was wrong. Some things you can face, but you can’t fight. Some things you can’t outrun.

  Dylan went to the dock and readied the boat for the day’s excursion, his mind replaying the conversation in his head.

  He needed to make a call, check into purchasing that tract of land. Otherwise he and Colt wouldn’t have anywhere to go where they’d be safe.

  Chapter 9

  SO HE WAS GOING TO BE THAT way about what happened last night, huh?

  Alex tried to be discreet as she glanced over her shoulder to where Dylan sat guiding the boat along the lake toward the farthest end, to where he’d said bears liked to fish. Their gazes locked briefly but Dylan quickly refocused on their destination.

  With a determined huff and a silent bite me, she faced forward again. Having seen no sign of a bear the other day, she’d looked forward to this excursion and nothing about Dylan’s tall, dark and brooding attitude was going to ruin it for her. After all, he was the one behaving badly. It was only a few kisses, after all, so what was he so uptight about?

  Okay, so maybe she’d thought they’d had a connection in the hall and maybe she’d thought his kisses were really nice, but she hadn’t expected the silent treatment and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was she the only one having fun last night? She didn’t think so. So what was the deal?

  The deal is he changed his mind. It’s over. Move on.

  Alex buried her mouth and nose beneath the scarf wrapped around her neck, forcing her body to relax between Ansel and Walter.

  Then she saw it. Barely a blur in the distance, a bear fished at the mouth of the lake.

  “Look at that,” Walter said, leaning toward her in an effort to be heard over the boat’s engine but not loud enough to scare the bear away.