Taming His Montana Heart(41)

“I’m glad you aren’t on the lam.” His attention remained on the world beyond them. “I’d hate seeing you being hauled off in handcuffs. Replacing you would be an inconvenience.”

She was pretty sure he was joking but couldn’t be certain. More to the point, hearing the word handcuffs took her back. As many times as she’d fought to remain in the present, she should know how it was done, but it never got easy. Seeking distraction, she drew a smiley face in the condensation at the bottom of the windowpane. One eye was lower than the other and the upturned mouth looked as if whoever was smiling didn’t know how to keep the mood going. That was her all right.

“You don’t want to talk about it do you?” he asked.

“Most people have experienced things they wish they could forget. Besides…” She drew another face with wide eyes and flared nostrils. Point to remember, she did better depicting surprise than happiness.

“Besides what?”

He’d shifted his attention from the near blizzard to her. She wasn’t sure she could keep him at arms’ length, but she had to try, didn’t she? She also had to find a safe topic.

“I’m trying to decide what to get my brother and his family for Christmas,” she said. “I’m running out of time.”

“Yeah?”

He didn’t believe her. Fine. She couldn’t do anything about that any more than she could explain to herself why she’d taken the risk of coming in here with him.

“Yeah,” she repeated. “I’m a terrible shopper. I’d do it online if I knew what I was looking for. My nieces are teenagers, which means their tastes are constantly changing.” Relaxing a little, she dove into the subject. “My brother and I agreed not to buy for each other, but he means so much to me. I want to do something that expresses my love for him.”

He drew a face with bushy eyebrows and a beard. “I’ll probably do what I have in recent years.”

“Which is?”

“Donate to a charity in their names. Maybe the humane society this time.”

“That’s a great idea. What did you donate to before?”

The longer he remained silent, the more she wished she could read his mind. Their conversation seemed simple enough except she was learning that nothing was simple between them. She added a Santa Claus hat to his drawing.

“The police widows and orphans society.”

Why them? She longed to ask but suspected he wouldn’t answer or if he did his response wouldn’t have depth.

The windows shook as the wind struck them. “Mother Nature is on a tear tonight.”

“She’s just showing off.”

Their conversation had veered again, taken off in another direction maybe a safer one. “I really wish I knew what animals do on nights like this. I’m sure our resident wolf and the snowshoe hares have found shelter, but deer and elk can’t crawl into a cave or hollow log.”

“Those without the sense to head for Florida are probably huddled under trees. Hunkered down with their backs to the wind and heads low. Bunched together to share warmth.”

“Probably.” She drew a stick animal that could be anything with four legs and a tail. “We humans believe the world revolves around us but we’re the least prepared to survive the elements. Take away our buildings and heat, strip off our coats and boots and we wouldn’t last long. We need to study what wildlife does, learn from them.”

“Do you think that’ll ever happen?”

“I doubt it. We’re so darn complacent, so ill-prepared to survive violence.”

He gave her his full attention. “Violence?”

She gripped her elbows and widened her stance. It had happened again. The conversation had abruptly changed and was skating dangerously close to what she’d never be able to bury.

“It happens. We go along living our ordinary lives until something unexpected knocks us off course. An accident, fire, illness, being the victim of a crime. Most people don’t have the necessary coping skills to get them through those things unscathed.”

“But most survive.”

“Yes, but are they ever the same or are the scars too deep?”

He turned his back to the night, again rammed his hands into his back pockets, and stared at her feet. “You’re right. Sometimes they’re too deep.”

Speechless, she studied him. She’d thought she’d been speaking about herself, but obviously he knew what she was talking about. Had experienced trauma. There were lines around his eyes and the corners of his mouth. He looked, not tired, but as if he was burdened by something he didn’t want. She’d seen the same expression on herself. No amount of beauty products would erase life’s loads. All a person could do was embrace the good as much as possible.

“I think,” she blurted, “that I might have just decided what I’m going to give my brother’s family for Christmas.”

“Where did that come from?”

From my need to change the subject. The carols in the other room barely reached here, but the sound was enough to ease her mind a little. The trees, animals, and these windows had survived countless storms. Her role was to experience tonight with the man who was waiting for her to continue.

“Kolina and Echo have been collecting and scanning early photographs of the area. The file keeps growing. There are some amazing shots of Mount Lynx throughout the seasons. Someone took a lovely series of pictures of a pair of ducks with their chicks before the resort was built. Those and others would be perfect in an album.”