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Tala woke up screaming. Her skin crawled with creepy sensations, and blankets were tangled around her ankles. She kicked them aside to free herself, flinging out her hands. She connected with someone, but it wasn’t Duane. It was Cam.
He put his arms around her. “Shh. You’re okay now. I’ve got you.”
She stopped struggling and went quiet. It was dark in the room. She could see the pleasant glow of the fire in the hearth. The only sound was her ragged breathing. A sob rose up to her throat. The breakdown she’d been fighting all day caught up to her with a vengeance. She couldn’t prevent the tears from coming, and they were long overdue. She hadn’t cried since she’d left Duane.
Cam stroked her hair and made soothing noises.
She finally calmed down enough to speak. “Walt was in the dumpster. He was dead.”
“It was just a dream.”
“Duane was there, too. He hit me.”
“Did he?”
She heard the edge in his voice and eased away from him. There were tissues on the nightstand, next to a bottle of cold water. She used a tissue and took a soothing drink. Little by little, her tears abated.
“Better now?”
“Yes.”
“Duane is your husband?”
“He was.”
“Are you divorced?”
“Not legally, but I left him.”
“Because he hit you?”
Her stomach clenched with unease. It was a deeply personal question, but they weren’t strangers anymore. They’d passed that point and entered another territory. He’d opened up to her about his wife. She’d wept in his arms.
She’d never told anyone about the abuse she’d suffered in her short marriage. She’d been too ashamed. Her father had raised her to be strong and proud. She wasn’t the victim type. She was a survivor, and a fighter. Somehow Duane had taken that away from her.
Maybe talking about him would help her get it back. He didn’t deserve to be protected. She couldn’t excuse his actions, and she was done keeping his secrets.
“He was abusive,” she said, letting out a slow breath. “Mentally and physically.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
A cold calm passed over her, and she nodded. “He got more violent and controlling as time went on. It was so gradual, I almost didn’t notice it. Or I didn’t want to acknowledge it. Then he snapped, and I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening anymore.”
“What do you mean, he snapped?”
“Well, he changed after we got married. It wasn’t a huge transformation, because he’d always had a temper. He’d yell at me and act jealous and get drunk and stupid. I thought it was regular boyfriend stuff. Then we got married, and we moved to a very rural area. He started treating me like his property, instead of his wife. He’d have these dark moods that scared me. He didn’t want me to leave the house without permission. One day, I snuck out to go to the library. When I got back, he hit me.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. I was too stunned to move. He cried and begged me to forgive him. He said he’d never do it again.”
“But he did.”
“Yes.”
“Is he a cop?”
She was startled by the question. “How did you know?”
“Just a hunch. Go on.”
“We stayed together for a few more months. He flew into another jealous rage and hid my purse so I couldn’t go anywhere. I realized things weren’t going to get better. The next time he hit me, I hit him back.”
“What happened?”
She touched her face, remembering. “I bloodied his nose. I don’t think he expected that, and he got really mad. He knocked me out. As soon as I could move, I packed a bag. I left in the middle of the night while he was sleeping.”
“How did you get to Alaska?”
“I stowed away in a trailer.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. I wasn’t planning on leaving Canada. I thought the trucker was going south. Instead he went west, and here I am.”
“Are you here illegally?”
She shook her head. “Have you ever heard of the Jay Treaty?”
“No.”
“It allows First Nations people the right to come to the US from Canada and vice versa. There’s really no such thing as an undocumented Indian, but I don’t have my tribal card or any ID to prove my status. I left everything in Canada.’
“I’m glad you escaped.”
“So am I.”
She looked away, contemplative. Cam didn’t seem to think less of her for having an abusive husband. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but a part of her felt responsible for what had happened. She should have been smarter, and more aware of Duane’s true nature. She shouldn’t have rushed into marriage. She should have identified the threat sooner.
Tala closed her eyes to clear the bad memories. Her relationship with Duane was over. She’d left him, and she’d never have to suffer his abuse again.
Unfortunately, she’d traded up as far as personal problems went. Now she had to worry about the other men she was running from.
Goose bumps broke out across her flesh. She’d kicked off the blankets in the throes of her nightmare. Her legs were bare and cold. So was Cam’s chest, she realized with a start. She’d been too distressed to notice that before. The faint glow of the fire revealed an intimate scene. They were in bed together, close enough to touch. He was shirtless, his torso outlined against the pale sheets. She was wearing his flannel without a stitch underneath. She tugged the comforter back into place, flushing.
“I should let you sleep,” Cam said.
“Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please.”
He glanced in her direction, brow furrowed. He seemed uncomfortable with her proximity, and was possibly confused about what she wanted from him. Tala struggled to pinpoint it herself. She knew he was hung up on his wife, and not interested in sex. Or not interested in her. Whatever his reasons, she felt safe with him.
She wouldn’t drag him into her problems, but she could ask him for one small thing. “Will you...hold me?”
He drew in a ragged breath, as if tortured by the thought.
“Just until I fall asleep,” she said, to make her wishes clear. “Nothing more.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She searched his features in the dark, uncertain what he meant. His eyes glinted with something she’d seen before. Something he’d been trying to hide. The desire she’d sensed earlier flared between them, like a new spark.
He wasn’t so disinterested.
She altered her request. “Can I hold you?”
After a short hesitation, he rolled onto his side, facing away from her. She hugged his back, spoon-style. It was the best of both worlds. She could cuddle him and enjoy the simple pleasure of human touch without worrying about him getting aroused. He could lay there and be her teddy bear, no strings attached.
She slipped her arm around him and closed her eyes. He was warm and hard-muscled. Solidly built, like a protective shield. She could feel his heartbeat under her palm, strong and sure. He covered her hand with his and linked their fingers together. Her throat tightened with emotion. She hadn’t felt peace or contentment in such a long time. His presence filled an empty place inside her she hadn’t known was there.
She savored him for as long as she could before she fell asleep.
Chapter 6 (#u0ab8344d-c16a-5c50-a33b-12b9ae170066)
December 1265N-5 degrees
Cam got dressed in the dark.
He pulled on his jeans over thermal underwear and shoved his feet into steel-toed boots. His long-sleeved T-shirt provided minimal warmth against the morning chill, but he didn’t grab his jacket. He wanted to feel the cold bite of winter, and he did. It had snowed overnight. Powder crunched beneath his soles as he crossed the dark, deserted parking lot. Frosty air filled his lungs and penetrated his clothing.
He made his way toward the front office, which was open but unmanned. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee awaited him. He helped himself to two cups. He didn’t know if Tala liked cream and sugar, so he grabbed packets of both.
“There’s oatmeal,” Ann said, emerging from another room.
He glanced at the cooking pot next to the carafe. His stomach growled with interest, but his hands were already full. “I’ll come back for it.”
“I can deliver two bowls to your cabin.”
A flush crept up his neck at the thought of Ann coming to his door and catching a glimpse of Tala in his bed. He felt like a teenager who didn’t want his mom to find out his girlfriend had slept over. “No need.”
Ann smiled at his quick response. “Thanks for splitting logs.”
“I enjoy the work.”
She nodded, and he escaped the cozy space in a hurry. He had no reason to be embarrassed. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d slept next to Tala without crossing the line. Even if their night hadn’t been innocent, so what? Surely Ann had seen worse in her days as innkeeper. Drunken hookups, seedy affairs, hard partying. She wouldn’t blink an eye at Cam’s pretty young guest. Unless she assumed he was married, which might be the case. He was still wearing his wedding ring.
He winced at the oversight. He’d put it on again a few weeks ago, after a disastrous Thanksgiving at his parents’ house. His mother had invited one of Jenny’s friends—one of her single friends—in a clear attempt at matchmaking. He’d left as soon as possible, claiming he had an important delivery.
Women had flirted with him before, and he’d felt nothing. No whisper of temptation. No need to armor himself with proof of his lack of availability. This time was different. He hadn’t been interested in Jenny’s friend. He’d thought of the waitress at Walt’s Diner, someone he hardly knew, and he’d been struck by a wave of intense longing, mixed with sorrow. It hit him like an avalanche, knocking him off-balance. He’d found his ring and slipped it on. He’d needed a protective shield, because his attraction to the waitress had triggered new pain. His grief had felt staggering, insurmountable.
That was the problem with moving on. It hurt more than standing still.
He took the coffee to the cabin and set the cups down on the mantel by the fire. He poked the ashes and added some wood. Tala stirred at the sound. She sat up in bed with an abruptness that suggested she’d forgotten where she was. Her gaze connected with his, and recognition dawned. She returned to a reclining position, her trepidation fading.
She trusted him not to try anything sexual. Which made sense, he supposed, because he’d kept his hands to himself all night. But if she could’ve read his thoughts in the wee hours of the morning—or right now, for that matter—she wouldn’t look so relaxed. Because he wanted to climb into bed with her. He wanted to kiss away the hurt her husband had caused and show her how a real man treated a woman.
Heat crept up his neck at the thought. Of course he wasn’t going to make a move on her. He wasn’t ready for that kind of intimacy. He was still wearing his wedding ring. The only way to stay numb was to keep his distance.
“I brought you a coffee,” he said. “Do you want oatmeal?”
She nodded, rising to her feet. She looked rumpled and sexy in his flannel shirt. Her eyes were sleepy, her legs a mile long. When she tugged on the fabric to make sure she was covered, he averted his gaze. He knew she was bare beneath it. He’d seen her pale blue panties hanging in the bathroom. He’d touched them this morning—to see if they were dry. To feel the silky material and imagine it against her skin.
After she went into the bathroom, he released a slow breath. He needed to get a grip before he embarrassed himself. He cleared his throat and left the cabin, sucking in the cold air. There were two servings of oatmeal in disposable cups with lids at the front desk. He carried them back to the room, plastic spoons in hand. Tala was sitting by the fire, sipping coffee. They shared a simple hot breakfast in silence.
He wasn’t eager to get on the road again, despite his discomfort in her presence. He wanted to make sure she was safe before he left town. He hadn’t expected to be so concerned about her welfare, but they were in an unusual situation. They’d spent the past twenty-four hours together. They’d shared personal stories. They’d even held hands.
Cam might be numb, but he wasn’t dead. His protective instincts were working overtime. So was his libido, if he was being honest.
“Do you have another load to deliver?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’m supposed to pick it up this morning.”
“What direction are you headed?”
“North, on the Dalton.”
It wasn’t a trip she could take with him. The Dalton Highway was the deadliest stretch of road in Alaska. There were almost no facilities, and constant obstacles. Whiteouts, avalanches, ice patches, snowdrifts.
“You could stay here,” he said, on impulse.
“In Fairbanks?”
“In this cabin.”
Her lips parted with surprise. She hadn’t expected him to make this offer. That made two of them.
“I know the owner of this place, like I said. She might hire you.”
“To split logs?”
“Or for lighter work.”
“I can handle heavy work.”
He believed her.
“The owner is a woman?”
“Yes.”
