by Linda Howard
He didn’t want his son to grow up with an absent father who visited when he could, but in his darkest moments he didn’t see how he could avoid that, at least right now. Sam’s grandparents would effectively become his parents, and his father would be an afterthought, an occasional visitor who disrupted the everyday routine. Lolly was right; the sacrifice was a high price to pay for stability.
“We’ll make it work,” he said. “Whatever’s best for Sam, that’s what I’ll do.” He was anxious to change the subject. “What about you? Married, engaged, divorced …”
“None of the above. I do date, on occasion, but there hasn’t been anything serious in a long while.”
“Why not?” She was pretty, smart, and if what had happened in the shower was any indication, a wildcat in the sack. She had taken him by surprise, but then just about everything she’d done since he’d climbed that rickety ladder a few hours ago had surprised him. Whoever would have thought that he’d come to admire Lolly Helton? She had been out of her element from the get-go, but she had toughed it out, and even come to his aid during both of his battles with Darwin and Niki. Her inner strength, especially concerning Niki, brought up a deep sense of respect. That couldn’t have been easy for her, but she’d done what had to be done, and she hadn’t collapsed afterward.
He wasn’t about to admit that he’d expected less of her though, because the one thing he didn’t want to do was hurt her feelings or get on her bad side. To his astonishment, he liked her too damn much, liked everything he’d learned about her tonight.
“Maybe I’m too picky.” Her answer brought his attention back to the question he’d asked. She sighed. “Maybe I’m unlucky. I don’t know. The simple answer is, it’s just never happened for me. Love, that is,” she said more softly. “I have certain expectations and I don’t want to settle for just any halfway decent man because thirty crept up on me and desperation set in.”
He couldn’t see the Lolly he used to know or the woman he’d come to know tonight being desperate to land a man. She’d survived a tough situation without falling apart, and while she leaned on him—literally and figuratively—she was far from being fragile and needy.
And he’d forever remember the image of her rushing after Niki, coming to his defense even though she was scared half out of her wits—and naked, to boot.
“What about you?” she asked, as if an idea had just occurred to her. “Has there been anyone since your wife died?” He could hear the hint of discomfort in her voice, as she wondered if she’d had sex with a man who was committed to another.
“No.”
He was certain Lolly didn’t expect that her relief would be so evident to him, but her sigh and the way her body relaxed told it all. So, she was pretty, smart, not desperate, and she had morals. Otherwise the thought that she might’ve had impulsive sex with a man who was involved with another woman wouldn’t have bothered her at all.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” she asked. “About asking me out if you came home on leave and I was around.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. Why? Would you say yes?”
“Maybe. But only if you promised that our second date would be less exciting than the first.”
He laughed, surprising her and himself. This wasn’t a night for laughter—or hadn’t been until now. “This is a date?”
“You saw me naked and you fed me dinner.” There was a touch of humor in her voice. “Sounds like a bang-up date to me.”
Gabriel had wondered a time or two what his first date after Mariane’s death would be like, if he ever found the right woman—and the courage to move forward. He’d sure as hell never pictured anything like this, never by any stretch of the imagination thought it might be Lolly Helton, of all people, who for the first time in three years made him feel both physical and emotional attraction. He wanted to have sex with her again, he wanted to share mundane things with her, he wanted to find out what made her laugh, what made her cry, what colors she liked, her favorite flower. Lolly made him feel as if there might be a real life out there again, a life both full and ordinary. He’d had that with Mariane, and her sudden death had left him so empty that only having Sam had given him the strength to go on.
He and Lolly had been through a very stressful few hours that made their sense of intimacy, their connection, far more intense than if they’d met again under normal circumstances. But would they have given each other a chance if the circumstances had been normal? Had it taken a crisis to make them see each other as they were now, rather than how they’d been fifteen years ago?
But the connection was definitely there, and all of a sudden he felt the promise of his future rather than the loss of his past. They’d have to go slow, he figured, give themselves as well as Sam time to adjust to everything, give themselves time to see if things really would work out between them, instead of rushing in and maybe making a mistake that would upset Sam’s world even more.
But they had time. He smiled, thinking about how much fun they’d have.
Lolly did her best to forget what had happened today, and she pushed her worry about tomorrow out of her head. The howling wind had stopped and icy rain no longer pelted the windows. But the roads would still be coated with ice, and she still heard the occasional crack and crash of a falling tree or heavy limb. There was no telling what she and Gabriel would encounter after they walked out her door tomorrow, headed for Wilson Creek and safety.
At the moment she was happy to be right here, warm and in Gabriel’s loose but secure embrace.
As a teenager she’d had such a crush on him, and she’d been supremely annoyed with him for not returning, or even being aware of, her tender feelings. Looking back, she realized that there had been absolutely no reason for him to know what she’d been feeling. She hadn’t told him, or anyone else. She hadn’t even looked his way, unless he picked a fight with her and she responded. At fifteen, she hadn’t been so logical. Though to be honest, what fifteen-year-old was well acquainted with logic?
There was something very appealing about a man who talked with such evident love about his son, who sacrificed everything so that his child could have a secure and happy home. She worried less about tomorrow’s long walk to town than she would have otherwise, because she knew Gabriel would not only do everything in his power to get them there as soon as possible, he’d also be damn sure to get them there safely—if not for her, or for himself, then for Sam.
Sleep was creeping up on her fast. She could feel oblivion, welcome, certain. But she wasn’t ready to fall just yet.
“I’ll probably be back in Wilson Creek a time or two in the next few months,” she said softly. “Even if I hire someone to pack up the house, there will be papers to sign to put it on the market, and then when it sells I’ll have to come here to see to the legalities.” She was almost positive she could handle the details long distance, but … maybe she didn’t want to.
“I try to get back at least every other month,” Gabriel said casually. “Sometimes it’s just for a couple of days, but I have to see Sam whenever I get the chance.”
Duh. All his talk of a date was just a way to kill time, maybe an attempt to make her forget what had happened tonight. When Gabriel came back to Wilson Creek he wanted to be with his family, most particularly his son, not a girl he barely remembered from high school.
And then he added, “You should meet Sam. When it warms up we can go fishing.” She didn’t immediately respond, so he added, “You don’t fish, do you?”
“I’m world-class at reaching into the freezer and pulling out some filets,” she said, smiling. “I could probably learn. From what I’ve seen it doesn’t appear to be too demanding.” She tried to picture a warm summer day, the lake, the three of them fishing and maybe picnicking on a large, checkered blanket … and she couldn’t do it. The picture she tried to create in her mind didn’t quite come together.
She didn’t belong. Lolly realized she wasn’t a part of the picture and
never would be. Still, it was a nice illusion, a pleasant way to push aside reality for a while. “I make great chocolate chip cookies and a killer pasta salad. We could have a picnic, too.” She closed her eyes, and for a moment she was there, she belonged in that picture. Maybe it wasn’t real, maybe it would never be real, but as she drifted toward sleep she got caught up in the fantasy, then sleep overtook her and she went under fast and deep.
The sunlight sparkled like diamonds on the ice-coated trees; overhead, the sky was a pure, crisp blue. It would be a breathtaking scene, Lolly thought, if she was looking at it through a window with a blazing fire behind her, or maybe standing on a beach in Florida looking at a postcard. Instead she was part of the picture, which included cold air, a slick surface beneath her feet, and the occasional obstacle of a fallen limb or tree, for good measure—in case walking downhill on a sheet of ice wasn’t challenge enough.
Not knowing when she’d be able to make it back, Lolly had stuffed what she needed in her pockets. Keys, driver’s license, cash, credit cards, cell phone, which would be useless until they reached the highway. Everything else had been left behind. There was no telling when she’d be able to collect her Mercedes. She might have to arrange alternate transportation to Portland and come back for her vehicle once the roads were clear. That all depended on how bad things were in town, and how badly blocked the roads up the mountain were.
At least her clothing today was better suited to the weather. She had on her own thick, hooded coat, her boots, her gloves. At least the sun was shining, and they could see where they were going. At least they weren’t being chased by homicidal drug addicts. All in all, today was much better than last night, even though the air was so cold she could barely breathe it and had to keep her nose and mouth covered with a scarf. The sunlight on the ice was almost blinding, and both she and Gabriel wore shades. Compared to last night, though, this was a walk in the park. It was cold, sure, but there was no cutting wind, no rain. All that was left were the remnants of the storm—the fallen trees, the icy ground, the crisp, cold air.
The weight of the ice was still a burden for the trees, and that would be their greatest obstacle as they made their way down the mountain. Not long after leaving the house they heard the now-familiar crack, followed by a crash. Gabriel’s head had snapped around at the sound and he’d stopped, listening hard as if he might be able to tell where that tree was, how close it might be. The fall was in the distance, in the woods that surrounded Lolly’s childhood home, but it was telling—a warning, of sorts. They couldn’t get off the mountain without walking beneath trees. None of the ice was melting, the air was still too cold, so any of the trees could go at any time. They would have to be on constant guard against the weighted, weakened limbs overhead.
This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.
Gabriel stayed close, either right beside her or directly ahead of her, depending on the width of the grassy strip and the thickness of the vegetation, as they walked along the side of the driveway. Though he hadn’t said much, he had to be as worried about the treefall as she was. That was why he often glanced overhead and, when possible, followed a path that didn’t take them directly beneath the overhanging limbs.
They were halfway down the driveway when they came to a splintered, icy tree that had fallen crookedly across their path. Gabriel straddled the tree, offered Lolly a hand, and helped her up and over. Walking on an icy surface was tough enough, but maneuvering over obstacles only made things harder. If they’d had enough food and propane they would’ve been better off staying at the house until help arrived … at least in her opinion. Gabriel might’ve had other ideas, since he’d left his son behind to rescue her and was anxious to get home.
Hiking wasn’t her thing. She wasn’t into athletics at all, other than admiring the great physical condition of professional athletes; she was definitely a woman who admired a great tight end when she saw one. Her layers of clothing made her feel awkward and unwieldy, while Gabriel managed to remain his usual capable, annoyingly perfect self. He’d always been athletic, and, yes, he had a great tight end. If he hadn’t been wearing his own heavy coat, she’d at least have been able to admire his personal scenery. Thank goodness he didn’t know she was imagining his butt; he continued on, steadfast and skillful, leading the way with aplomb.
She didn’t do anything with aplomb, even when she wasn’t hampered by layer upon layer of clothing. At least if she fell she’d be well cushioned when she hit the ground.
Gabriel looked great. Good-looking, muscled … really great eyes, a blue-green hazel ringed by inky lashes. He was bigger than he’d been in high school, definitely older, but those eyes hadn’t changed at all. Lolly had to forcibly stop herself from getting carried away. She tried to call upon reason, to think clearly. He’d saved her life, so there was probably some instinctive attraction going on that had absolutely nothing to do with who he was. Add the fact that they’d been skin to skin, that he’d been inside her, and she shouldn’t expect anything less than total infatuation.
Oh, who was she kidding? She’d always had the hots for him—not to the point that she’d spent the last fifteen years pining over him, but enough so that when she saw him again that old interest immediately flared to life again.
When she was safely over the log that blocked her driveway, Gabriel held on to her for a moment longer than was necessary, making sure her footing was solid—not that she was in any hurry to move away.
“I have soup and coffee in the truck,” he said. “We’ll take a short break there, and if a tree hasn’t fallen on it, we can get in the truck and get warm.”
After the hours the truck had been sitting, she had no hope at all that either soup or coffee would be warm, but it was food and she’d take it. The breakfast bars weren’t going to last nearly long enough. “Good idea.” It was a long way to Wilson Creek, and the trip was best faced in small chunks. To the end of the driveway. To the curve where the old Morrison house used to be. To the hill where there was a break in the tree line, where the sun would surely shine. To the highway … and from there they’d start all over again, as they walked to the McQueen house.
Where she’d be a literal fifth wheel.
After taking several steps without any problem, without warning, Lolly’s right foot flew out from under her. She instinctively flailed for a low lying limb, but as she grabbed it the thin, frozen twig snapped. Gabriel grabbed her, making sure she didn’t land on her ass. He held her close, secure, and she took a moment to wallow in his body heat and solid build. Gabriel McQueen was like a rock. Without him, where would she be right now? She couldn’t let her mind go there.
Lolly’s heart pounded as she tried to catch her breath. She knew what a disaster a bad fall would be. She was already sore, bruised, and shaken. All she needed was to break a bone or sprain an ankle. If she thought she was a burden to Gabriel now …
“You okay?” he asked.
When she nodded her head he released her, and she moved forward.
One step at a time.
Gabriel had known the trek down the mountain would be a tough one, hour upon hour of watching every step and being alert to the dangers all around.
After stopping at the truck to get warm—no trees having fallen on the truck—to drink some lukewarm coffee and soup, and to retrieve his weatherproof hat, he and Lolly resumed their trek. Lolly didn’t grumble, hadn’t uttered a word of complaint, but she’d already started breathing harder and favoring her bruised right side.
He took her hand as they met a hill, knowing that on the other side of that rise was a sharp dip in the earth that would not be easy to take. They leaned into the climb, watching each step, breathing hard, not wasting precious energy by speaking.
Gabriel kept telling himself it could be worse. As far as mountains in this part of the country went, this was a small one, not high enough for good skiing. Some might even call it a big hill, instead of a mountain. Walking down was doable, and they should be thankful for
that. The storm had stopped. If they’d had to walk out in the wind and falling rain, the walk would take twice as long and be ten times as dangerous. If either he or Lolly had been hurt last night, shot or slashed with a knife, then they’d be separated, the mobile one hiking alone to town for help, the other left behind. And if they’d both been hurt …
Would his dad figure that he’d been stranded by the storm and that all was well, or would he be worried and doing what he could to get up this road? Lolly had said that when Darwin and Niki broke in, she was on her way out to stay with the Richards. Would Mrs. Richard be worried enough to call the sheriff’s office and report that Lolly hadn’t arrived? Or would she just assume that Lolly had wasted time and let the storm catch her on the mountain? Lots of possibilities, and he had no way of knowing what to expect. He might as well proceed as if he and Lolly were entirely on their own. For now, they were.
Halfway up the hill a patch of sun warmed the ground. That heat and light was a welcome relief—though he knew it wouldn’t last. Where the sunshine touched the ground, the going was easier. They could even take a few steps on the roadway, when the shoulder was narrow and too close to a drop-off for comfort. He didn’t bother to drop Lolly’s hand, even when the walking was less slippery for a few precious steps.
“Not so bad, huh?” he asked.
Lolly was breathless when she answered, “Speak for yourself, McQueen.”
He would’ve turned to give her an encouraging smile, to tell her that they were making great time, but then he reached the top of the hill and got a good look at what lay ahead.
There weren’t just one or two fallen trees across the road, there was one right after another for as far as he could see. Some lay there alone, with stretches of blessedly untouched roadway on either side. Others crisscrossed, one trunk and another … and another … blocking their way. Some they could go over, as they’d gone over the one on the driveway. Others were too big, or the limbs were too tangled. They were going to have to go around some of the blockage, detouring into the woods, wasting precious minutes.
