Chapter 26

The next day, Nathan gripped the pencil in his fist as he sat at the kitchen table. He’d been through all the damn jobs in the stupid Jack’s Bay Journal and surrounding area, and nothing.

Private security, cyber security. None of it worked for him, right now, with his diagnosis.

Generalized anxiety disorder. PTSD.

And he knew it wasn’t because of the service he’d ended up with it, though that may have added a layer. But it was the family environment, once his uncles had come on the scene. Mortimer, and his two elder brothers, though the other two now lived elsewhere.

The chair screeched against the linoleum as he pushed it from the table. Sudden enough that Ryker’s head popped up out of a nap, a startled look in those little puppy eyes. Self-recrimination hit him, and he reached down, snapped his fingers, importuned Ryker to come to him.

But Ryker just put his head down on his front paws, and stared up at him.

He went to the screen door, opened it, stood outside, looking at the woods. The glint of the light over the pines heralded late afternoon. Soon the sun would sink, and night would settle.

And he still needed money.

The car, he’d been told, needed an outrageous sum of work. The taxes were still an issue. “Not subsidizing your ass,” Uncle had spat.

So all in all, he needed something to break. Maybe in the meantime he’d set a few traps. He figured he had two days’ worth of food left, a couple more if he stretched it, though he wouldn’t stretch Ryker’s portion.

What the hell was he going to do?

“Heel!”

He heard the firm command, and there she was, at the edge of the clearing, the spot she’d departed from yesterday.

* * *

He stared, unbelieving. Had he conjured her out of thin air?

She was right there, as if it was her own personal wormhole.

Hers, and his. He couldn’t say he hadn’t looked at that spot the last twenty-four hours or so, wishing she was back again. Looking at him expectantly, offering…something. Not sure if it was friendship, or something entirely different, but he was drawn to her. To her steady, bright energy.

And now there she was, with a tall, beautifully alert German Shepherd, sitting on his haunches, looking right at him.

She smiled broadly, waved. “Nathan!” Started toward him with her dog at her side.

He stayed leaning on the door jamb, watched her approach. Just enjoying the sight.

“What’s new, Buttercup?” She called the idle greeting, smiled.

The silly words made him laugh, made something sweet rise in his chest. And a warmth. Yeah. He felt it. “New Hampshire, New York, New London. Need any more?”

A grin appeared on her face. “Nah. I’m good. How’s Ryker?”

The absolute familiarity with which she asked that question hit him.

He glanced back to the table with the marked-up journal, the additional calculations he’d been making. Not good.

Definitely not on par with her. Not even close.

And knew, suddenly, he had to sort this. Now.

The gathering joy he’d been feeling left, and a gray cloud crawled into its space.

“He’s good.” He spoke the words, didn’t raise his shoulder off the door. Cringed a bit inwardly at how rude he felt now that she was right in front of him, but he had a job to do. A message to deliver.

“Oh.” She looked at him quizzically, already picking up on the body language, the subtle shift. “That’s good. Really.” And when he didn’t respond, her brow knotted. “I thought Ryker might enjoy a bit of a play session. But we can come back another time, no problem.”

“It might be better if…” He started, but oh hell. There was Ryker at the screen door, practically falling all over himself to get at the dog.

He smiled, despite himself. “Come on, Ryker.”

And Ryker erupted into the front yard. Not far, but still. “Wow. That’s surprising.”

“Probably only until he realizes where he is. But for now, I agree. Wow.” He stole a glance at her, and darn her. She leaned back against the door jamb on the other side of the door, mirroring his body language with grace, and they watched the show together.

“You’d think they all read a manual at birth, huh? Or get it by download to their brains,” Amy chuckled. “Smell this, do that. It never changes.”

“I’d think the size difference would make…well, a difference. But never, right?” He gave her a querying glance.

She grinned back. “Never.”

All the requisite sniffing done, the dogs started to circle each other, nipping in, then dashing out from each other, and the play began. Very close to the cabin, but still.

Nathan stood there, the knot in his chest easing. Miraculously. Because while Ryker started out shy, and obviously a bit scared, Prince’s gentle nature won the day as he let the little dog play with him, didn’t charge him, or overwhelm him.

And very quickly, Ryker was having the absolute time of his life.

He ran at Prince. Zipped away. They wrestled on patches of grass or the dirt in between, it was all the same to them. Ryker bit Prince, and Prince clamped his large jaws on Ryker. Nathan started at that, but Amy’s hand on his arm, holding him back ever so gently, stopped him. And it became obvious to him there was no danger. Prince was deliberately holding back.

Soon though, Ryker lay on the ground between his feet, panting. “He tuckered out pretty quickly,” Amy noted. “Did you tire him out earlier?”

“Not really.” Nathan shook his head. “We went for a couple of quick walks in the woods, but I had business, so there wasn’t time.”

She shrugged. “Well, maybe it’s just the newness of it. They’re awful cute together.”

“Yeah. They’ve been real cute.”

Amy threw another involuntary glance inside, as if realizing an invitation was not going to be extended. “Well, we better get going. I’ve got a big chunk of business to attend to tomorrow myself as well. Let’s do this again, soon. If you want, you’re welcome to come by with Ryker to my place. Though you may have to carry him for a longer bit than normal.” She smiled.

He looked at her, saw a beautiful woman. One he was absolutely, very attracted to.

And swung the axe. “I’m sorry, but that’s not going to work out.”

She looked surprised, but took it fine. “Oh. Do you want to reschedule for a later time, or…?”

He thought of his family’s legacy. The cold way Uncle sized up everyone, and seemed to monitor everything. In fact, he would be surprised if somehow, Uncle wasn’t already aware of their scant meetings, here in the depth of the woods.

He allowed that cold to thread inside him and around his heart, permeate it. Deaden and dull it. And then he said the words that would break whatever they’d been forming between them.

“It’s not going to work out. Thanks for what you’ve done, Amy, and for the puppy play date today. But we’re going to be moving soon, far away from here, and I can’t get bogged down in…” —it twisted his heart to say the words, but he had to kill whatever was building between them— “…anything.” He pushed off the door jamb, looked at her, and the moment expanded as he took in her russet hair, the way the sun glinted on it, made it glow. Her blue eyes. The sculpted mouth, the dark spot beside her lip on the left side.

But especially the soft look on her intelligent face as she watched him. Really watched him. Gave himself a moment to really look at her, the friendship she offered.

“Take care of yourself, Amy St. James.” His voice thickened as he said her name. “I wish you and Prince well. Goodbye.”

She blinked twice. Scrutinized his face. Then it appeared that she arrived at a decision. “You too, Nathan.” She bent to ruffle Ryker’s head. “You be good, you hear?”

She stood up, snapped her fingers, and immediately her dog came to her. Sat as she commanded him wordlessly with a hand gesture, rewarded him with a treat quickly, then she sang, “Let’s go.”

And he knew, intuitively, if that mirage of her appearing yesterday at his cabin had haunted him, that short, brief song would stay with him too. Forever.

He watched as she stepped off the porch without a backward glance. Grace in motion. He felt something in him call to her but he flattened it, and it burned, unspoken, like acid.

The two of them made their way to the edge of the clearing, didn’t halt as they had yesterday at that spot to turn around and wave.

They stepped into the woods, and it seemed to close around them, the wormhole shutting, then disappearing. A woman and her dog, and they were part of that world now. Not his.

They moved away from the cabin, from him and Ryker until the forest swallowed them as if they’d never been.