Chapter 6
six
Sierra
D espite the longing for Luke that kept me awake, I’m rested and up early enough to beat him to the bathroom and start breakfast. From the vacuum sealed selection of beans and roasts in a cupboard and the fancy French press, he’s obviously a lover of good coffee. Once again he defies my traditional mountain man stereotype. There’s leftover biscuits and I find eggs in his fridge to cook when he’s up. With some oatmeal from my pack topped with fresh honey and a thermal carafe of coffee ready, I sit at the island and wait.
Luke strides into the room ready for the day, complete with his prosthesis in place. I was hoping to take a look at his skin this morning to gauge its condition. I’ll make sure that happens later. His missing hand is a touchy subject. I bite back a snort at my inadvertent pun. We can avoid talking about it all he wants, but I will not leave his skin in such a painful condition when I can help.
He hasn’t donned a second shirt so I’m able to study the harness wrapping behind his shoulder. It also allows me to watch how his muscles bunch and flex to move the grips of the prosthetic as he pours himself a cup of coffee. His movements are a smooth dance coordinating muscles and metal.
I doubt he realizes how natural and without thought his control is. Now what he needs is self-confidence. Hopefully I can help with that, too.
He takes a long sip and sighs before meeting my gaze. “You have no idea how great it is to have hot coffee first thing in the morning without having to make it. And breakfast, too?”
The light banter feels a little forced and I ignore the tension as I start the eggs. “Least I can do for a dry night’s rest. I don’t want to disrupt you any more than I already have, so you do what you normally do and I’ll try to stay out of your way.”
“You don’t, uh, won’t… disrupt me.”
Hmm. Maybe disrupt isn’t the right word for what’s going on. Because it sure feels like there’s something more hovering over us. Waiting. I like this man, even his grouchy side. Really like him. That surprises me. After years of being shifted from place to place or living on the streets, I’ve learned that instant trust is one of the fastest way to ruin.
Trust isn’t easy for me, although I’m working on not immediately distrusting someone. I give myself, and them, time before making that decision. The process works most of the time. There are still people who I instantly sense are distrustful when I first meet them and I’ll avoid them as much as possible.
From the second Luke broke my fall, I’ve trusted him. There’s only been two other people who’ve received my instant stamp of approval. The couple who adopted me. My found and true family.
Luke belongs on that short list, too. My family.
But oh boy, he’s not like a brother. I want a different relationship with him. He feels like the other half of my heart. Not wanting to admit the complex emotion to myself kept me restless and awake a good part of the night. Seeing him in the morning light trying to act as though having a woman make breakfast for him is normal, cements my emotions. I think I’m in love with Luke Grayson. Unknown baggage and all.
I push aside my empty plate. “What do you do here, Luke?”
His plate joins mine on the far side of the island. “I…”
I don’t push, just wait for him to decide how much to tell me. Someday he’ll trust me with his secrets and I’ll tell him mine. Then those pasts can be shoved away like our empty plates and we can start fresh. Together.
He drums his fingers against the countertop. When they stop, he speaks. “I haven’t worked a job since losing my hand. Insurance, Workers’ Comp, disability, they’re enough to get by on. A settlement allowed me to purchase this property outright. I do okay.”
“I’d say so. It doesn’t matter if you have a job as long as you have something to keep you busy and interested in life.”
A faint ruddy color rises up his neck then peeks over the top of his scruffy short beard. I’ve hit a sore point. From what I’ve seen, the condition of his property is well maintained. Maybe too well maintained for the wilderness surrounding us. Which could mean he hasn’t been much interested in life, kept to himself and focused on being busy to keep his demons away.
I probably took too many psych classes in college. Luke doesn’t need me psychoanalyzing him. That’s never a good way to start any relationship. So I’ll leave the serious thoughts alone and just enjoy whatever time I have with this man. “What’s first on the list?”
He jerks and stares at me as though he’d forgotten I was here. “List?”
“Yep, what’s the first thing you planned to do today?”
“Umm, I don’t know. I just start in on whatever looks like it needs doing.”
I don’t want to leave just yet, but he needs to be the one who asks me to stay. Still, I’ll give him an out. “I should get going and check out the land I’m interested in. Then head to town and create my report for the board.”
“No,” he says the instant I’ve finished speaking, looking surprised at his outburst.
“No?”
“I mean that’s probably not a good idea. There’s a lull in the rain but it will probably start up again within the hour.”
“Where do you get your weather reports?” I ask with a smile. I haven’t seen a television, computer, or radio around. Looks like he’s doing a good job of remaining isolated.
“Guess I’ve been here long enough I’m familiar with the weather patterns. And…” He glances down at his prosthetic. “You’ll find this difficult to believe—hell, I don’t believe it—but I get phantom aches in my wrist when the weather changes. I laughed at my fire chief when he said his knee always told him when it was going to rain. Now I feel that in a part of my body that isn’t even there.”
“I’ve heard of that happening but I’m not sure how common it is. I’ll take your prediction under advisement.”
Finally a smile from him. Although the relaxed expression doesn’t quite reach his eyes, I’m counting a victory. I wonder how many times today I can make him smile. “So my wandering off isn’t a good idea?”
“Probably not.” His lips twist into a tiny smirk that sets my lady bits tingling. “Take a look out the window.”
I’d rather keep looking at him. When he nods toward the window behind me, I reluctantly turn around. “Oh my god.”
A large cinnamon colored bear is sniffing around the edge of the clearing. Every so often it glances toward the building and lifts its nose to the air. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
Luke stands at my side. “Yes, she is. That’s HoneyMay.”
“You named a bear HoneyMay?”
He chuckles, the sound even better than a smile at awakening my body. “One of the kids who lived here did. The bear’s territory encompasses most of my property and I’m pretty sure extends some into the land you’re interested in. Right now she’s hoping I’ve left something lying around that she might like to eat.”
My eyes go wide when I glance at him. Bears are nothing to mess around with. “You don’t do that, do you? Feed her, I mean?”
He lifts his hand and I hold my breath, aching for him to touch me. He stares at his fingers a moment, blinks, then his hand returns to his side.
Damn it.
“I’ll admit to adding to her diet on occasion. But never in or near the house. There’s a spot about half a mile away where I’ll leave her treats. I, uh, had to promise the little girl who named her that I’d watch out for her HoneyMay.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
He shrugs. “Look, she’s completed her investigation. We probably won’t see her back here again for a few days.”
He’s combined we and a few days in one statement. Does that mean he wants me to stick around? I give myself a firm internal lecture. Do not jump to conclusions. What he said could simply have been a slip of the tongue.
Oh, but how I want—to the point of need—to feel the slip of his tongue over my skin. A shiver travels through me.
“Cold?” he asks.
“What? Oh, no, I’m not. It’s just that I’ve never seen a bear that close before, except in a zoo.” A plausible explanation.
“I will admit the first time her appearance startled me even though I was expecting her to show her pretty face. Now we encounter each other fairly often. We know how to react to each other. Did you bring bear spray in your camping supplies?”
“I did my research, so yes, I have the spray. Even practiced using it.”
“Good. Don’t go out without it.” He sits at the island and clears his throat. “Since outside time will be limited today we shouldn’t wander too far. Would you like to take a look around here? You’ll need to consider power and other utilities and can check out mine if you’d like.”
Good thing he doesn’t know what I’d really like to check out today. And that has nothing to do with going outside.
“Then if it clears enough later, I’d be willing to… we could take my UTV…”
“You’d drive me around that land? Even though you don’t want a camp established there?”
“I never said?—”
“You didn’t have to.” I can’t resist touching him, so I rest my hand on his shoulder. “I’m usually pretty good at reading people. A survival skill I developed at too young an age. That sounds like fun. Give me a few minutes to clean up the dishes, then I’ll be ready to help with whatever chores that need doing today.”
Gathering our plates, I move to the sink. “And thank you again, for letting me stay here and for showing me around.”
I get the grand tour of the sturdy shed containing the collection batteries for his solar and turbine power, the well house, the wood storage area. While we’re out, he splits a few small logs then after allowing me to try hitting his axe throwing target—I need a lot more practice if I’m going to be successful—I help him carry the wood to the house.
I have a couple of suggestions about using his prosthetic during daily chores but I’ll wait until he’s more receptive. He does allow me to massage his stump again and the torn burn scar is looking marginally better.
His weather prediction is spot on, although once the rain begins again shortly before lunch, it doesn’t let up for the rest of the day. So we’re stuck inside.
That’s when he tells me he has internet, although he has to search for the password. I don’t feel like working, so we start a fire, make popcorn, and watch a movie on the laptop he kept in his bedroom. With the weather, the satellite connection is slow and there’s some buffering, giving us time to talk. I encourage him to tell me more about his time in Alaska.
After supper I challenge him to poker and although I was planning to, I didn’t need to let him win. After taking another pile of matches from me, he admits he’s had a lot of practice playing with his crew at the fire station. Makes me kind of wish I’d suggested strip poker. I wouldn’t mind losing that game so much.
Before he heads to bed, he takes my hand. The soft, electric jolt skims up my arm and settles in my breasts. My nipples firm and I struggle to keep my breathing normal. All this reaction from just his palm against mine.
“Good night, Sierra. This has been the best day I’ve had in a long time. Thank you for pushing me outside my comfort zone.”
“I didn’t have to push too hard. I had fun, too. I, umm, really enjoyed just spending time with you.” I take a deep breath to hold back the words I want to say, the question I want to ask. I don’t know the right way or how much to push in this situation. He’s given me so few clues.
His smile is soft and oh so sexy. Filled with firelight, his eyes sparkle. I’ll die if he doesn’t kiss me. Like right now. I’m not shy about going after what I want, so why am I hesitant to just lean forward and touch my lips to his? Because, I admit silently, I don’t want to scare him away and ruin what we might come to have in the future. I hold my body still and wait.
Thank god not for long. His gaze drops to my lips and I can’t help but part them slightly and touch the tip of my tongue to the center of my bottom lip. His pupils dilate as he inhales deeply.
“Sierra.” He lifts his hand to cup my cheek and I press into his palm. “I want to kiss you.”
“Yes, please.”
Guiding me closer with his hand, he tilts my head, and takes possession of my mouth with a gentle, tentative kiss. Emotions and physical need crash over me and my whimper brings firmer contact and the slide of his tongue over my bottom lip.
He lifts his stump to my shoulder. Freezes. Jerks away, leaving me bereft and aching. “Luke?”
“I… I’m sorry, Sierra. I shouldn’t…” He shakes his head and holds up his damaged arm. “I’m sorry.”
Before I can respond, he’s striding across the room. He stops at the short hallway and stands with his head hanging, his back to me. “Forgive me.”
Then with the soft click of his bedroom door, he’s gone.
What the hell just happened?
Going over each precious moment in my head, I make sure the fire is out and spread the sheet and blanket over my lonely couch bed. In the dark, I sit at the end of the couch so I can stare through the window into the darkness. I know there’s no answers there but the clouds have finally moved off and the stars twinkle like bright dots overhead.
I know what the problem is. His hand. Or rather his lack of one. After two days he should know that doesn’t make any difference to me. I’ve seen his stump, touched it, tenderly cared for it. I simply don’t know how to get him beyond…
A flash of insight finishes my thought. Shame. He’s ashamed of not having a hand. No, that doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe he feels shame because of the accident somehow. I sigh and crawl under the blanket. Overthinking isn’t going to show me what to do or how to solve his problems. Hopefully life will look better in the morning.
I’m nearly asleep when Luke’s shouting startles me totally awake. I hear a name, then a scream of ‘no’, followed by noises I can’t decipher. When he shouts my name, I fight the tangle of bedding and run to his room. I pause only a second before giving a light tap then opening the door.
His room is bathed in moonlight enabling me to see him sitting rigidly in the center of his bed. Tears stream unchecked down his cheeks.
“Luke, what can I do? What’s going on?”
His face turns slowly toward me. “I let my sister die.”