Читать книгу Snowbound with the Soldier - Jennifer Faye - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

ALARM BELLS CLANGED loud and clear in Kara’s mind.

There had to be a realistic alternative to staying, but for the life of her, she couldn’t come up with anything reasonable. One hesitant step after another led her across the threshold and into the log house. Warmth enveloped her in an instant.

“It’s getting really bad out there.” Jason slammed the door against the gusting wind before stomping the caked snow from his boots. “Let me get some lights on in here.”

He moved past her to a table and switched on a small antique lamp with little blue flowers painted around the base. The soft glow added warmth to her unfamiliar surroundings.

“Thanks.” She clasped her shivering hands, rubbing her fingers together.

When her eyes adjusted to the lighting, her curious gaze meandered around the place Jason called home. Worn yet well-kept maple furniture stood prominently in the room, with a braided, blue oval rug covering a large portion of the oak floor. Nothing flashy, but not dingy, either—more like cozy and comfortable.

Jason favored his leg as he made his way to the fireplace and arranged some kindling. He struck a match, and soon a golden glow gave his hunched figure a larger-than-life appearance. What would it be like to curl up with him on that leather couch with a hot mug of tea and a fire crackling in the stone-and-mortar fireplace? To sit there and discuss the day, or make plans for the future?

She gave herself a mental shake. This wasn’t a romantic vacation. Nor was she interested in curling up with him now or ever. She’d keep out of his way and wait out the storm. Once the weather broke and the plows cleared the roads, she’d be gone. And it couldn’t be soon enough.

She tugged her soggy jacket tighter, trying to ward off the chill that went clear through to her bones. All the while, she continued to examine her surroundings. A wadded up pile of white sheets lay on one of the armchairs, as though Jason was still in the process of making himself at home. Her attention moved to the oak coffee table with a folded newspaper and a tidy stack of what appeared to be sports magazines.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“You mean other than being snowed in here with you?” She couldn’t resist the jab. She didn’t want either one of them to get too comfortable in this arrangement and forget about all the problems between them. “Actually, I’m surprised to find this place so clean. I guess I just don’t think of men as being neat freaks. Unless, of course, you’re living with someone....”

The thought hadn’t occurred to her until then, and it annoyed her that it even made a difference to her. Yet the presence of a girlfriend would assure their past remained in the hazy shadows, along with the snarled web of emotions.

“I’m not involved with anyone.” The flat statement left no doubt in her mind about the status of his bachelorhood. “I learned to clean up after myself in the military. You’ve got to be prepared to move out on a moment’s notice, and you can’t be ready if your gear is in a jumbled heap.”

The tension in Kara’s stomach eased. Instead of examining her worrisome response to finding out he had no one special in his life, she chose to stick to safer topics.

Glancing up, she said, “I love the cathedral ceiling and how the chimney rises into the rafters.”

“Wait until you see this place with the morning sun coming in through the wall of windows on the other side of the room.”

Preferring not to dwell on the idea of watching the sunrise with him by her side, she pointed past the fireplace. “What’s over there?”

“My grandfather used the area as a study, and I didn’t feel a need to change things.”

She glanced around, taking in the winding stairs. “Where do those go?”

“To the loft. When I was little my grandparents used it as a bedroom for me. I’d spend hours up there playing. Now the space is crammed full of junk. Maybe this summer I’ll get around to throwing it all out.”

“Why would you want to do that? There are probably heirlooms up there that you’ll one day want to hand down to your children.”

His thick brows puckered. Storm clouds raced across his sky-blue eyes. “One man’s treasure is another man’s junk. And since I’m not having kids, I don’t need the stuff.”

Not having kids. The knowledge knocked the air from her lungs. He made it sound so final, as though he’d already given the subject considerable thought. She’d never heard him say such things when they’d been dating. In fact, they’d discussed having a boy and a girl. A little Jason and a little Kara.

In that instant, she realized a stranger faced her. What could have changed him so drastically? She bit back the question. None of her business, she reminded herself.

Dredging up these old memories stung worse than pouring rubbing alcohol over a festering wound. Her judgment concerning men seemed to be made up of one painful mistake after another.

“I’ll get us something warm to drink,” he said, ending the conversation. “You can get out of those wet clothes in there.” He pointed to a door on the opposite end of the great room.

“I don’t have anything to change into. Besides, I need to call my family.”

“You need to get warmed up before you come down with pneumonia. Then you can phone home. It’s not late, so they shouldn’t be too worried yet.”

She hoped he was right.

When Jason bent over to untie his boots, he groaned in pain. She grabbed his arm, tugging him upright. He started to pull away, but she tightened her grip, noticing how his muscles rippled beneath her fingertips. In spite of her awareness of his very muscular build, she dragged him over to a wooden chair beneath the picture window.

“Sit,” she commanded, in the same tone she used when Samantha was being uncooperative. “You don’t need to put any more pressure on your sore leg.”

His startled gaze met hers. Then, ignoring her words, he once again attempted to loosen his laces. She swiped his hand away.

“I’ll do it,” she insisted, kneeling before him.

Her cold fingers ached as she dug her short nails through the chunks of ice, trying to loosen the laces.

“So this take-charge woman you’ve become, is it part of being a mother?” he asked, startling her with the intimate question.

“I suppose so.” The mention of her daughter, combined with his nearness, flustered her. Her fingers refused to cooperate. “I almost have your boots untied. There’s just this one knot...”

She bit down on her lip, forcing her attention to remain on the frozen tangle and to ignore how easy it’d be to end up in his capable arms. With one last pull, followed by a solid yank, she loosened the laces. And none too soon. This proximity was short-circuiting her thought processes.

She jumped to her feet and strode over to the fireplace. Why did this log home have to be so small? She supposed small wasn’t a fair description, as this all-purpose room was quite spacious. But it didn’t allow for any privacy, any breathing space away from Jason.

Her gaze shot to the two doorways off to the side, below the loft. Maybe she could wait out the storm in one of those rooms.

“I’ll find you something to wear.” Jason got to his feet. “Come on.”

He led her to the nearest bedroom. Before he even opened the door, she guessed it was his. Definitely not her first choice for accommodations. She couldn’t imagine sleeping in his bed, surrounded by his things.

“What’s in the other room?”

“Wall-to-wall furniture. My grandmother had the great room loaded with so much stuff you could hardly get around.”

So much for that great idea.

She stepped into his room. It wasn’t spacious, but roomy enough for a dresser and a double bed. Her gaze lingered on the bright colored scrap quilt covering the mattress. The thought of being here alone with Jason had her lingering at the doorway.

Her mind reeled back to the summer of her sophomore year in college. Jason had told her that he wanted to leave Pleasant Valley, that he was joining the army. In the very next breath, he’d proposed to her. He wanted to elope with her after she earned her journalism degree. The answer had been a no-brainer—a very definite “Yes!” But she hadn’t wanted to wait. She’d planned to drop out of college and earn her degree via the internet while following Jason around the world. She’d been so certain she could make it work.

She recalled how they’d made love over and over, celebrating their impending nuptials. At the time, she’d thought her heart would burst from the abundance of love. Never once had they been bold enough to come together in the luxury of a bed. Their special spot had been a remote pasture near a creek at the back of the resort, where the warm rays of the sun had kissed their bodies. The place hadn’t been important, only that they were alone to talk, laugh and love each other.

When Jason abruptly left Pleasant Valley—left her—seeing the world was no longer an option. As the only child of two loving parents who worked manual labor jobs to get by, Kara realized as soon as she learned she was pregnant that she couldn’t burden them with another mouth to feed. The day after she’d finished her junior year of college, her job at the Greene Summit Resort went from part-time to full-time.

Youthful endeavors and girlish dreams were lost to her. With the most sweet, well-behaved baby counting on her, Kara grew up overnight. Her parents were supportive, but the bulk of the responsibility for child care fell to her, whether she’d been up half the night for feedings or exhausted from a strenuous day at work. It was a lot to adjust to, but she would do anything for her daughter—then and now.

The dresser drawer banged closed, jarring her back to the here and now. When Jason handed over a pair of gray sweatpants and a flannel shirt, their fingers briefly touched, causing her heart to skip a beat.

“Thank you.” She jerked her hand away.

“The bathroom is just through that door.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I’ll go get you something warm to drink.”

“You should rest your leg,” she protested.

“I’m fine. But you won’t be if you don’t get out of those wet things.”

Before she could utter a rebuttal, the door thudded shut. Irritation niggled at her. Did that man always have to have the last word?

She rushed over to the door, only to find it lacked a lock. Nothing like feeling utterly vulnerable. With a sigh, she turned and leaned back against the door. She stood there for countless minutes with his clothes clutched to her pounding chest. She inhaled deeply and Jason’s manly scent assailed her senses. She couldn’t resist burying her face in the soft flannel. Even though it had obviously been laundered, spicy aftershave clung to the material. He wore the same brand as he had years ago. Okay, so maybe not everything about him had changed. She smothered a groan of desire.

After everything that had happened, why did she still have a weakness for him? But no matter how many memories bombarded her, they couldn’t go backward. What was broken between them couldn’t be undone. The only thing for them to do now was to take a step forward—in opposite directions.

Determined to stave off her lingering attraction to him, she rushed off to the bathroom. The pulsating water eased her achy muscles and the billowing steam soothed her anxiety. She refused to let the crush of memories overwhelm her. She just had to treat Jason in the same gracious manner she would anyone else who rescued her.

Minutes later, dressed in the warm clothing, she glanced in the oval mirror mounted above the chest of drawers. Kara didn’t need to inspect her reflection to know she looked ridiculous, as though she’d just fallen out of a Salvation Army donation bin. She cinched the baggy sweats around her waist so they didn’t slip down over her hips, and rolled up the dangling sleeves.

That left dealing with her hair, which was an absolute mess. She attempted to finger-comb the waves, but it didn’t help. Surely there had to be a brush or comb around here. She scanned the dresser top, taking in the papers and envelopes haphazardly dropped in the middle. She noticed how there were no photos of people from his past or ones currently in his life. It was as if he was a clean slate just waiting to be written on, but she knew that was far from the truth.

A small, flat box sticking out from beneath the papers snagged her attention. Though she knew it was none of her business, a longing to learn more about this man from her past had her reaching for the box. It creaked open. Suspended from a red-white-and-blue ribbon was a gold five-point star with a laurel wreath surrounding a silver star in the center. Her heart swelled with pride for Jason. Her eyes grew moist as she realized he must have put his life on the line to receive such a great honor.

With her thumb, she lifted the medal and read the engraving on the back: For Gallantry in Action. A tear dripped onto her cheek. Jason was a bona fide hero. Just not her hero.

A brief knock at the door drew her attention. “Uh...coming.”

She repositioned the medal and snapped the lid closed. Just as she was about to return the box to its original spot, the door squeaked open.

Heat swirled in her chest before rushing to her cheeks and ears. Nothing like getting caught red-handed, snooping. Still, part of her was glad she’d learned this important detail of Jason’s life. Knowing their country had taken time to recognize him for risking his life touched her deeply. Before her stood a rock-solid hero with broad shoulders, hefty biceps and a chest any woman would crave to be held against—except her.

Kara refused to let his gallant acts or obvious good looks change what she knew about him. When a relationship got too serious or hit a snag, he’d rather skip town than talk out their problems. She refused to get involved with someone she couldn’t trust.

His blank stare moved from the box in her hand to her eyes. “I have the water heated up. I just need to know if you want tea or coffee.”

“Tea.” Her mouth grew dry and she struggled to swallow. Giving herself a moment to suck down her embarrassment, she took her time returning the box to the dresser top. At last she turned. “I didn’t read about your heroism in the paper.”

He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. His eyes needled her. “Snooping, huh?”

She didn’t know if her face could get any hotter without catching fire. Unable to deny his accusation, she went with a different tack. “Such a great honor shouldn’t be kept a secret.”

“And that justifies you going through my things? Digging up unwanted memories?” The roughness of his voice spoke of a deep emotional attachment to the memories.

“Why were you honored?” she asked, needing to understand what had happened to him during those missing seven years.

“I did what had to be done. End of story.”

“Does everything have to be some sort of deep dark secret? Or is it just me that you refuse to be honest with?”

Pain reflected in his eyes, but in a blink, it was gone—hidden behind an impenetrable wall. Regret for snapping at him rolled over Kara. She hadn’t meant to make him defensive. She truly cared about what had happened to him.

“I’ll get you some tea.”

“You don’t need to bother.” She didn’t want to be even more of an imposition. “I can just wait in here, out of the way, until the snowplow digs us out.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s for the best. This way we don’t have to get in each other’s way. You can go about your business like I’m not even here.”

“This room isn’t very warm. You’ll be a lot more comfortable in front of the fireplace.”

“I could just bundle up in a blanket.”

Why was he being so difficult when she was trying to make this awkward arrangement as tolerable as possible for both of them? Surely he wasn’t any more interested in spending time with her than she was about spending it with him.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “But you should know that as soon as I get your tea, I’ll be in to get my shower. And with the bathroom being a bit cramped, I tend to strip down in the bedroom.”

Heat scorched her cheeks until she thought for sure her hair would go up in smoke. So much for her idea about keeping distance between them.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” she said. “You wouldn’t have a comb handy, would you?”