Taming His Montana Heart(49)

Sighing, she sank back onto the balls of her feet. Her hold on his arms tightened. He slid his fingers down the sides of her neck and onto her shoulders. She felt fragile and strong, multi layered.

Finally, hating what he was doing, he pushed her back a few inches. She nodded.

“Too much too fast,” she said. “I know.”

“I don’t want—rushing would be a mistake.”

“Yes, it would. There are relationship increments we need to adhere to. A pattern.”

He’d never thought of a developing romance in those terms but there was wisdom in what she’d said. If they skipped over any of the steps, they might lose—what, their momentum? Perhaps the ability to maintain control?

Unable to make sense of his thoughts and what his body wanted him to pay attention to, he released her. As he opened the door, winter rushed in. Consideration for her comfort prompted him to step outside, but before he could close the door, she slipped behind him. Coatless and wearing slippers, she stood next to him.

“Smell it.” She stroked his arm. “The scent of snow. The longer I’m here the more it seduces me.”

He inhaled deeply followed by taking her hand. Another kind of seduction gnawed at him. “You might not say that by March.”

“No, I won’t. Shaw, I’m falling in love with Lake Serene.”

“Does that mean you want to come back next winter?” To me?

“I think so.”

“The job’s yours if you want it.”

“I do.”

Were they talking about more than the snowmobile operation? “There’s—something else I’d like you to think about. The man in charge of boat rentals is retiring. Come spring you could shadow him and decide if you’d like the job.”

She started to tremble. “Just like that? You’re offering the position to me? What if I make a mess of it?”

“You won’t.”

Still shaking, she threaded her fingers through his. “That’s a lot to think about.” She sounded so hesitant it alarmed him. “I should get through this first season before I make a commitment but…”

“But what?”

“I haven’t connected with a place since I was a child. I’d forgotten how powerful that draw can be.”

“Powerful?”

“Maybe that’s the wrong word.”

“It isn’t if that’s what you feel.”

“Thanks for saying that.”

“You said this is the first time you’ve felt connected to a place. What was the other one like?”

“Very different from here. My family lived in a hundred year old farmhouse on a few acres of land near the edge of town. Mom’s chickens kept us in eggs and my father raised pigs. No matter what went on inside that house…”

Despite everything his body was telling him, he realized she’d crossed a line she hadn’t known she would and was looking for a way to step back. He could pretend he hadn’t caught onto what was happening, or he could try to force honesty from her.

“You don’t have to talk about what happened inside the house.” Hoping to keep her warm, he folded her against his chest. “Tell me about outside.”

She took several long breaths followed by leaning against him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I can do that. The pigs. I loved watching the babies. Mom let me take care of the chicks. I’d tuck them under my chin. They—they never pecked me. I could tell them everything.”

“Was the land flat?” he asked in an attempt to keep things going. “Maybe there were a lot of trees. Probably not as many as we have here.”

“No.”

“Help me here so I can better imagine the place. What about where the chickens and pigs were kept?”

“Hills. Rolling hills. I’d do cartwheels all the way down them. Sometimes Mick put me in front of him on his bike. We’d speed down the hills with me making believe I was on horseback. I’d spend hours looking at the trees and long dry grasses and tell myself I was going to live there all my life.”

“Who did you want living there with you?”

She again breathed long and slow. “Mick and my horse.”

“Not your parents?”

A hiss exploded from her as she twisted free. “You won’t be satisfied? You want to know everything.”

He couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“All right.” She stood as far as possible from him. In the poor light he couldn’t tell whether she was still shivering. If she was, was it from emotion or cold? “I’ll tell you. Get it over with.”

“You don’t—”

“Yes I do. My mother was murdered. You know that. What you didn’t know was—my father killed her.”





Chapter Sixteen




Blood. Silence. A room filled with night and silence. No way out, no freedom. Trapped with a body. Heart hurting and throat dry from screaming. Tears burning her eyes. Fear. So much fear. And self-hatred.

“Mommy? Mommy, where are you?”

Movement.

“No! Go away.”

Haley woke with the familiar cry on her lips and her sheet twisted like rope around her. Because the nightmare would return if she went back to sleep, she got up, put on her robe, and went into the living room. She turned on the TV and powered up her iPod, but her attempt to distract herself wasn’t enough. After checking Facebook and a failed attempt to find a decent middle of the night movie, she made herself a cup of hot chocolate and tucked a throw around her legs.