EDGE (11 page)

He huffed out a breath and surprised himself into sharing. “I was ready to die, prayed for it even.”

She stopped and turned to him, those unforgettable eyes boring into his soul. “Do you still feel that way?”

“Yes.”
Why the hell had he admitted that?
He hadn’t told anyone that sometimes he still wished he’d died in the blast. On those days, when the pain of living was so bad, it damn near killed him
not
to put an end to it.

“You lost someone didn’t you? You weren’t alone.”

Hell, she would have to be perceptive too. “Yes. Two colleagues. Friends.”

“What were their names?”

“Hank Fielding and Sarah Black.”

“I’m sorry.” She laid a hand on his arm.

His throat tightened. “Thank you.”

They continued walking for a bit then Mel stopped, bent at the waist, and picked up a pebble. “Here,” she said, giving the rock to him.

“What’s this,” he asked as she dropped it in his palm.

“A wish rock. See the white band of quartz running through the slate?” She continued when he nodded. “The Alaskan Natives believe that pebbles like these contain power. Power or energy from being tumbled in the ocean. The owner of such a rock can make any number of wishes as long as the rock still has its power. The only way power can be renewed is to return the rock to the ocean or gift it to someone.”

Mel gave him a small smile. “Go ahead. Close your eyes, rub it between your fingers, and make a wish. Then keep it in your pocket or sitting somewhere you can see it everyday. That way you’ll remember the wish you made and it keeps the power alive.”

Cache shut his eyes and rubbed the pebble like she said. When he opened them, she was watching him. “When will I know if it worked?”

“When your wish comes true.”

He didn’t know if she was pulling his leg or not, but he liked whatever she was doing.

They resumed their walk, his cane making it slow, but not uncomfortable. A healing silence fell between them. The wind wafted through the spruce trees, waves crashed onto the beach. Every once in a while, he thought he heard something big rustling around in the bushes but every time he looked he couldn’t spot anything.

Suddenly she pulled him to a stop. In a streambed a couple of hundred yards ahead of them, a young bear stripped the skin off a salmon with big, sharp teeth. He raised his head and regarded them with beady, black eyes and then returned to his meal.

“I need my camera.”

“Not now. Let’s head back,” Mel said. “It’s never a good idea to get in the way of a bear and his dinner.” They turned and picked up their gait, but not fast enough to make it physically uncomfortable for him. Mel threw a couple of glances over her shoulder at the bear and then seemed to relax.

Their return trek was accompanied by the ocean surf pounding its fury onto the black sand beach. The wind blew at their backs and the smooth pebbles crunched under their feet. Quentin and Jonah’s excited hollers spilled through the salty air.

Farther down the beach the boys threw rocks into the tumbling surf, and ran from the greedy waves. “They’re too far from the lodge without someone with them,” Mel said.

“When you’re young, you are invincible.”

“Quentin, Jonah!” Mel hollered over the wind. Both boys swiveled their direction and ran toward them.

“Hey, Aunt Mel,” Quentin said, his cheeks rosy from the wind and cold. Jonah nodded but didn’t say anything. He was a serious looking boy, and seemed to be a year or two younger than Quentin.

“Remember what I said about being outside?” Mel said.

“Not to go far from the lodge without an adult,” Quentin mumbled.

“Why?”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Why?” She prompted again.

“Wild animals, unpredictable ocean, and weather,” he rattled off, digging in the sand with his shoe.

“Guess what Mr. Cruise and I just saw down the beach?”

His eyes peeked from under a mop of dirty-blond hair. “What?”

“A bear eating a salmon.”

Quentin’s eyes widened. Silent Jonah backed up a step.

“Serious?” Quentin squeaked.

“Dead serious,” Mel said.

“Can I go see it?”

“Quentin, if you and Jonah came across that bear, whose to say it wouldn’t want to eat you instead of the salmon, or attack you for interrupting its meal.”

“Oh.” Quentin looked back at his feet. “I’d really like to see a bear.”

“Believe me, you’ll get a chance. I just don’t want you getting hurt. Understand?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

“Now get on up to the lodge and report to your parent. You, too, Jonah.” The boys didn’t need to be told twice. They scampered up the beach. Mel turned to Cache. “I hope you were listening, shutter boy.”

“Caught every word.” He gave her the Boy Scout promise. “Swear.”

Once back at the lodge, the heavenly smell of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls filled the air. All they needed was snow and it would feel like Christmas. A fire crackled in the fireplace, the guests huddled around, and the feel of anticipation lay heavy in the air.

Cache took the edges of Mel’s coat and slowly slid it down her arms. He felt her hold her breath. “Thank you for the company,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

Had he imagined that slight tremble of her body when he touched her?

Nicole washed out the mixing bowl. Quentin was out with the new boy, Jonah, doing who knew what. Most likely finding some trouble or causing some. Since arriving at the Edge, Quentin had become more like the sweet, rambunctious boy who’d teased smiles from her lips when he was younger. Since the divorce, he’d been withdrawn, while Emily had become a royal pain in the ass. Right now, she was sulking in the loft of their cabin, refusing to help out because she couldn’t call her boyfriend. Her life was over and it was all her mother’s fault.

There was nothing Nicole could say to help Emily through this. The girl was going to have to shape up on her own. She was tired of taking the blame for everything that was wrong in that kid’s life.

The door opened and David Smith walked in. “Hey,” he greeted. “Our boys are sure getting along.”

She dried her hands on a dishtowel and wiped her brow. Making cinnamon rolls was an aerobic exercise.

“That’s great.” She bit her upper lip. “Quentin can get out of hand sometimes. Well, all the time, really. He pushes things. Always looking for the thrill. So I totally understand if you don’t want Jonah hanging out with him too much.”

“Jonah could use some pushing.” David indicated the table. “Do you mind if I sit and have a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, no. Of course not.” She grabbed a freshly cleaned mug and filled it with coffee for him. “The cinnamon rolls will be done shortly, if you want one.”

He smiled and dimples flashed in his stubbled cheeks. “I hoped I’d timed it right. Care to join me for a cup?”

Nicole glanced around the kitchen at a loss of what to do.

“Making those cinnamon rolls must have been a lot of work, I’m sure no one will begrudge you a coffee break.”

Put like that she didn’t have an excuse not to sit with him for a minute. “All right.”

She filled a cup and sat across from him. She added creamer and then stirred her coffee, unable to meet his eyes

“You been divorced long?”

That got her looking at him. “How did you know I just got divorced?”

He motioned to her ring finger. “Your finger still has the impression of your ring.”

She fisted her hand and moved it to her lap.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I lost my wife a year and a half ago to breast cancer. I find talking with the opposite sex still a challenge, especially when the woman is as lovely as you are.”

It had been a long time since anyone had referred to her as lovely. She’d seen her reflection and lovely she was not.

“This might be incredibly forward of me, but after dinner would you like to go for a walk?”

She concentrated on the mixing colors of her coffee. She hadn’t had much time to explore the area since she’d arrived. All that waited for her in the cabin was a teenager with a nasty attitude. It would be good to talk with another adult for a change, but she wasn’t ready for that person to be a man. Not yet. Men were still scum in her book.

The oven timer dinged and she jumped to her feet. “I’m sorry. I really need to get back to work.”

Mel and Cache entered the kitchen. “Was that the timer for the rolls?” Mel asked.

“What
is
that heavenly smell?” Tom magically appeared behind them.

Before she could answer, Ramsey hollered from the couch in the great room. “Is lunch ready yet?”

Quentin and Jonah rushed in. “Anything to eat, we’re starved,” Quentin shouted, his voice still at an outdoor level.

Nicole motioned to the table. “Everyone have a seat. I have stew on the stove.”

“Ah, Mom,” Quentin said, his foot scraping the floor. “Do I have to wait?”

“By the time you finish your stew, the rolls will have cooled enough for you to eat one.”

“Good enough for me,” Ramsey said, having made his way off the couch. “Move aside you youngin’s. I need something to keep my strength up.” Ramsey took a seat next to David. “Who are you?” He looked at Mel. “Every time I turn around there are new faces here. I just got to know that last batch.”

“Ramsey, this is David Smith and his son Jonah.” Nicole made the introductions.

“Good to meet ya, now pass them there crackers.”

David passed the crackers and smiled up at Nicole. Nicole ladled stew and handed out bowls. All the while, she tried to ignore the man. One thing life had taught her, men were nothing but trouble.

She didn’t need a man in her life. She had two children to raise and a bunch of mouths on The Edge to feed.

Her ex had always eaten on the run, never taking time to enjoy the food she’d cooked for him. He was always late to dinner, if he showed up at all. Most likely out boinking his assistant. She’d been so naïve.

Nicole had no idea that she would enjoy cooking for this many people. This was exactly what she needed to take her mind off her troubles.

The room rang with happy voices. When everyone had their fill of the stew, she served up the cinnamon rolls to “ohhs” and “ahhs.”

Mel even seemed to be warming toward her. Or was that her hopeful thinking?

Emily stood outside the kitchen door. She’d put on her cute open-toed heels, which were now pinching and freezing her feet, and pencil tight jeans that were chaffing the insides of her legs because the weather was so damp. Nothing in her life was going right.

She heard laughter through the door and gritted her teeth. They were eating her mom’s homemade cinnamon rolls. She could smell them and ignored the rumblings in her stomach. She’d hoped to sneak into the lodge, grab some food before anyone saw her. She was hungry, but not enough to enter the kitchen and deal with a bunch of happy idiots.

Didn’t they know they were in the middle of freaking nowhere?

She turned around and hiked back to the cabin, climbed into the loft, tore off her cute shoes and put on thick wool socks. Gross. Stripping off her jeans, she struggled into a pair of cotton pants, then wrapped herself up in a couple of blankets.