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Eric nodded, registering true interest in Lindsey’s voice and on her face for the first time since her arrival.
“That’s good.” This time Lindsey broke off a bigger piece of crust with a chunk of apple filling. She placed the food inches away from the dog’s alert eyes and again waited a few minutes. Then she casually reached toward the pie chunk again. Ginger lifted her head and gulped the food down, her motions canine-quick. Lindsey reached for the plate of pie, and set the whole thing in front of Ginger. The dog licked the plate, next licked the pie itself, then, still lying down, she began gulping pieces of pie.
“Well. I see you haven’t lost your magical touch,” Eric said.
Lindsey shrugged. “Nothing magical about it. The dog obviously considers this fireplace area home base. She watched me sit on the hearth, then tensed when I sat on the rug. She hasn’t closed her eyes since. She’s still territorial. I figured she’d challenge me for that food sooner or later. Besides, she’s a golden.”
“Huh?”
“She hasn’t given up the ghost. Her breed adapts easily to new owners. Some, like German shepherds, don’t. That’s why retrievers are replacing shepherds as service dogs for the handicapped. They can be trained as puppies and passed on to new owners as adults with much less emotional trauma to the animal. Do you have any of that stew left?”
“Yeah.” Eric rose and hurried to the stove to scoop out Lindsey’s share of the dinner. Lindsey took the plate and set it on the rug next to the pie plate.
“Go on, Ginger,” Lindsey urged. “You had dessert. Time for the main course.” Ginger didn’t hesitate a minute. She actually rose to her feet to eat. Lindsey took the plate and lifted it onto the raised hearth so the dog would swallow less air. “No gas bloat for you, girl. Eat up. Compassionate leave is canceled. Tomorrow morning—back to work.”
Eric watched as Lindsey’s hand toyed with the long fur on Ginger’s ears. He remembered those fingers, gentle, soothing, skilled, touching him with love during their passion-filled nights.
“Naomi was right. You still have a gift with animals.”
“My father has the real gift. I learned from him. Where’s the dog food? She’s almost done with the stew.”
“I’ll get it.” Eric hurried to the dried food. He dumped a few cups of it into the empty stew pot and stirred, coating the nuggets with leftover gravy. Lindsey took the pot from him and started hand-feeding Ginger, who allowed the familiarity.
“Naomi told me you hadn’t replaced your dog.”
“Her name was Missy.”
Eric caught the edge to her voice—the first sign of emotion she’d directed his way. “I remember…. Haven’t you missed—” Working with dogs? Suddenly, what he wanted to ask stilled his tongue. Haven’t you missed working with me? Missed us together? His eyes studied the diamond on her hand.
Lindsey didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s always rough to lose a partner, two-legged or four. Sorry to hear about the loss of Eva.”
“We all are. Last week there were four of us, and now…”
Lindsey finished for him. “You’re stuck with me.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it being stuck, Lindsey,” Eric said quietly.
“If they could’ve found anyone else for a replacement… But they couldn’t, not on such short notice. I’d never have come otherwise.”
His stomach fell at that, but he refused to let it show. He glanced pointedly at her ring. “So I gathered. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“No one you know.” Lindsey stacked the cleaned dinner dish and pie plate in the empty stew pot and got to her feet. Ginger still watched her closely as Lindsey set the dishes in the kitchen sink. “I’m going outside with the dog. Where did Eva take her to relieve herself?”
“A couple hundred feet behind the summer storage sheds—not the same place you used for Missy. I imagine the dog knows the way.”
“I’m not taking any chances. Where’s her leash?”
“I—” Eric looked around. “I don’t know. Sorry.”
“Obviously you never considered this dog part of your team,” Lindsey said sharply. “But then, commitment was never your strong point, was it? Excuse me…sir.”
Lindsey and the dog headed for the glassed-in porch, leaving Eric feeling as empty inside as the unwashed stew pot.
Women’s bedroom
9:00 p.m.
LINDSEY UNPACKED THE FEW belongings she’d brought, the dog alertly watching her from a safe distance.
“I know the feeling, Ginger,” Lindsey said softly. “I don’t know what to expect from you, either. Or anyone else here, for that matter.”
Ginger’s ears perked up, but there was no responding tail thump at the sound of her voice, just as there had been no warmth in Eric’s eyes at Lindsey’s presence. The man she’d once trusted with her body, heart and soul had acted as cautiously around her as the dog had—even more so, truth be told.
“It’s not like I bite or anything,” Lindsey said. She dug into her meager pack of personal items with a stiff arm and rummaged around for her over-the-counter painkillers and muscle liniment. “If I feel this sore now, Lord help me tomorrow,” she said, easily slipping back into the long-unused habit of talking to dogs. “I hope this bed is soft, girl, because I could sure use some rest before tomorrow.”
She stripped down to her long underwear and socks, started to ease her weary body under the thermal sheets, thick blankets and down coverlet, then stopped. “I hate going to bed alone when it’s cold, don’t you? I’m used to Missy keeping me warm in snow country. I guess you’re used to Eva.”
Lindsey knelt down on the floor and took the retriever’s face in her hands. Her eyes dampened with tears at the waste of Eva’s life, the lost look on the dog’s face.
“I know this bed is more yours than mine, Ginger,” she said softly. “And I know I’m not who you want in it. But maybe we can share, okay? I promise to take good care of you…no strings attached. Fresh starts for us both, okay? You’re still alive and kicking, right?” Lindsey stood and patted the bottom of the bed. “Come on, girl. Let’s hit the sack.”
Ginger watched her warily. Lindsey climbed under the covers, then patted the bed again. “The carpet’s nothing like a down-filled comforter. Awfully cold on that floor. Eva wouldn’t want you to be cold, you know.” The dog remained on the rug.
“Suit yourself, Ginger. The invitation’s open.” Lindsey turned out the small light by the side of the bed, her disappointment at Eric’s coolness compounded by the dog’s rejection. “Good night, girl. Sleep tight. Don’t let the snow fleas bite. Yosemite does have snow fleas, you know. When’s the last time you had a new flea collar?” Lindsey yawned. “I’ll check tomorrow. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”
Lindsey burrowed under the bed linens, noticing that the sheets smelled faintly of laundry soap and fabric softener. A fresh herb sachet lay underneath the pillow. Only Naomi made those. Eric’s sister had been surprisingly kind. Lindsey made a mental note to thank her, then lifted her head from the pillow for one last comment.
“Good night, pooch.”
Silence in the room. Lindsey sighed, tucked one of her cold feet under the other and waited to warm up enough so she could sleep. She waited in vain. She felt cold inside, cold outside, cold through and through. Maybe she should get up and find Eva’s arctic sleeping bag. That meant she’d have to strip to her skin and sleep in the bag atop the bed for maximum warmth. But she didn’t know where the bag was—nor did she have the energy to search.
Tomorrow I’ll check out this cabin in daylight. Everything feels better in daylight, Lindsey reassured herself, ducking her head under the covers. Even my nose is cold. Immediately she popped her head out. It reminded her too much of Eva’s death, buried under the deadly weight of killing snow. Her ring caught on a thermal-weave pocket, snagging and making a tearing sound in the blanket.
“Dammit!” Lindsey tried to yank off the ring. It was stuck because of the higher altitude and the puffiness of her fingers. Lindsey licked her ring finger and tried one last time. Nothing. She gave up the attempt, burrowed back down into the covers and forced herself to relax, willing her body to adjust to the cold of the sheets. “Some replacement I am,” she said aloud, extremely grateful that her new cabinmates—especially Eric—didn’t realize how weak and vulnerable she felt. Worse, loneliness seemed to make her feel colder.
Fine. Feel sorry for yourself—but only for tonight. Tomorrow, chin up. I’m not a coward. At least, I never used to be.
Exhausted and overtired, she tossed and turned until she felt Ginger climb up on the bed to stretch out alongside her, the dog’s head resting on her shoulder. She smiled, and only then fell into a deep sleep, so deep that she didn’t hear Naomi enter the room an hour later, followed by Eric.
“One short evening—and the mutt’s literally eating out of her hand. None of us could get the dog to budge,” Eric said in an undertone.
“She has a way with living things.” Naomi quietly pulled off her winter boots and socks. “She always has.”
Ginger, who had lifted her head at their arrival, laid it back down again. Lindsey moved in her sleep at the motion. Eric watched as Lindsey’s right arm came out from the covers to settle around the golden neck. Both dog and new mistress relaxed and were motionless again.
Brother and sister stared at the diamond solitaire on Lindsey’s finger. “No wedding band, yet, twin. It’s not to late to fight for what you want—if you still want it.”
Eric smiled, a predatory smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I still want it,” he said. “I need to know if she does.”
Naomi’s eyes opened wide in amazement. “You didn’t tell me that!”
“I don’t tell you everything. Nor do I want you blabbing to Lindsey.”
“I won’t. Not until her wedding, anyway,” Naomi said.
“If there’s a wedding, I intend to be the groom. Me—not the bastard who gave her that ring.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Keep hoping.” Eric faced the opposite bed again and shook his head. “Lindsey and those animals. Some things never change.”
“Maybe you should do the changing,” Naomi suggested with a sibling’s frankness. “We both should. Start with calling Ginger by name and not ‘the mutt’ or ‘the damn dog.’ She’s been with us four years. And don’t rag Lindsey about putting the dog first. I won’t, either. The last time we did—”
“Don’t remind me. Still…I’ve got three months until the snow melts. I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice.”
“Three months…” Naomi echoed. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Eric stared one last time at the ring. “But I believe we make our own luck.”
And that’s why I told Jack Hunter that Lindsey Nelson should be our replacement.
CHAPTER FOUR
Rangers’ winter cabin
Day 2, sunrise
THE SMELL OF PANCAKES, maple syrup and fresh biscuits greeted Lindsey’s nose, while the golden retriever greeted Lindsey’s ears with a particularly high-pitched yip.
“All right, all right!” Lindsey groaned. “I’m awake.”
Ginger jumped down from the bed to prance near the closed bedroom door.
“Let me guess. You need to go out.”
This was followed by a full-fledged bark. Lindsey sat up and winced as skiing muscles, long unused, protested. The dog barked again, and there was a knock at the door.
“Come in. I’m decent.”
Eric poked his head in. “Morning.”
“What time is it?” Lindsey asked in a sleep-hoarse voice.
“Eight. We let you two sleep in. Want me to walk the dog for you?”
“Please, and keep her on the leash,” Lindsey said, rubbing at a sore shoulder. “Just in case she doesn’t come back.”
“Will do, but she’ll come back,” Eric said confidently.
Just like I did.
“Breakfast is ready.” He and Ginger both left, Eric closing the door behind him.
The meal was a quick affair. Ginger bolted her food, and Lindsey finished her pancakes and eggs almost as quickly, but with more delicacy. Soon Lindsey and Eric skied away from the cabin, Ginger at their heels, out into the crisp, pure air of Yosemite.
The crystal-blue clearness of unpolluted high altitudes against the vivid whites and pine greens soothed her soul. The wide-open spaces of Yosemite echoed with the sound of their newly waxed cross-country skis cutting through the crisp snow. Lindsey remembered earlier, happier times, when the silent, brooding man ahead of her had smiled and skied at her side and another dog bounded at her heels. She pushed those dangerous thoughts away. Instead, she took in a deep breath of air tinged with pine, then slowly exhaled. She soaked in the stark beauty of the ancient granite and continued to follow Eric on the packed cross-country ski trail. Ginger trotted between the two of them, easily keeping up with Eric’s slow, relaxed pace.
Lindsey smiled, remembering Eric’s usual brisk rate of travel. She suspected he was making allowances for her sore muscles, since a dragging pace in anything wasn’t his style. In bed he’d made love to her with an easy energy that fully complemented Lindsey’s more easygoing approach to life.
Wade was only partially compatible. She never felt the deep satisfaction that went past physical pleasure. Only Eric could satisfy her emotionally and mentally—probably because he was the only one she’d ever trusted emotionally and physically. With Wade, that trust barely extended to the physical level, although both he and her parents believed otherwise. Her sisters, however, weren’t deceived. They knew she still had feelings for Eric, no matter how happy she seemed with Wade.
He deserves better, Lindsey thought. And so do I. I shouldn’t settle…. I want Eric to trust me. He used to. I wonder what lies Naomi told him…. Lindsey suddenly realized that her explosive, deeply satisfying sexual relationship with Eric had prevented them from exploring other facets that two people with a future really needed to know. And why did I let him stop the wedding? Why didn’t I go after Eric? Maybe I was too young.
Those often-asked questions took on a changed relevance as she studied the figure before her with new insight and a weak longing to feel his powerful body once more joined with hers. The image of them together was so strong that she slipped on an icy area, overbalanced and pitched down into the deeper snow on the side of the trail.
Eric immediately turned and Ginger bounded her way to investigate, which only caused more of a tangle of limbs, skis, poles and snow. Despite the serious thoughts of earlier, her mood lightened at the ridiculous sight she knew she presented.
“You okay?” Eric asked, quickly joining her as Ginger licked her face.
“Unless you count feeling stiff, sore and having snow down my neck.” Lindsey giggled, pushing the dog off her. “I don’t need dog hair in my mouth, either.” Ginger bounded at her chest again with puppy playfulness, shoving Lindsey flat on her back in the snow. One ski binding popped open, and a pole complete with leather glove fell across the dog’s back.
Lindsey broke into full-fledged laughter. “Some rescue ranger I am. Get off me, you silly dog. Ginger—move!”
The dog came closer, causing a clump of snow to land squarely on Lindsey’s face. Lindsey groped blindly about, then felt herself being lifted up and away from the snow. She felt the ground underfoot again. One arm remained around her waist, while strong masculine fingers gently brushed at the snow on her face. Lindsey opened her eyes to see Eric’s dear face only inches from hers. Both the intensity in his gaze and the lines around his eyes—lines that weren’t there four years ago—made the grin fade from her lips.
“I’ve missed your smile,” he said hoarsely.
“Not enough to postpone our wedding for forty-eight hours so I could bury a friend.” The anger in her voice surprised him into releasing her. The words she hadn’t been able to say because of shock rushed to her lips.
“I’ll never forget that, Eric. I hate what you did to me…to us.”
“Judging by that ring on your finger, I guess you got over it.”
“One has nothing to do with the other! I just…” Her voice trailed off. At his continued silence, she took in a deep breath. “Don’t know where that came from,” she said shakily, backing away from his grasp to reach for her fallen gear. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t intend to start my first day by dragging out the past.”
“Skip the sir routine. I’m still Eric, same as always.”
Lindsey nodded and stepped back into her ski binding. “Not exactly the same.”
“It’s been four years,” he said simply.
“That’s not what I mean. You seem—different.”
To her surprise, Eric didn’t press for details. “What do you want me to say, Lindsey? Right now, all I care about is that you do a professional job. There’s no reason to think you wouldn’t. You always have. Anything beyond that…” He shrugged. “Like you said, it’s only your first day. We have time to talk later.”
The stillness of the winter snow, a snow high above the timberline, where neither bird nor insect made a sound, wrapped around them.
“A few months, anyway.” Lindsey finished retrieving and donning her gloves and poles, then patted her thigh with her hand to call Ginger. She waited for Eric to take off at a smooth glide and followed, her pulse throbbing against her temples with emotion.
