Icebound (3 page)

One worry down, forty-two to go. “What else can I expect from the crew? My briefing mentioned insomnia as a chronic problem. Should I be wary of depression or other mental disorders?”

“Depression can be an issue, but that’s why we have all these fun coping mechanisms. They’re necessary.”

Great, no pressure. “How do you see my role? Beyond the obvious, I mean.”

“You’re an invaluable member of the team. I know you’ve got your science experiment, but I also hope you’ll connect with the crew, spend time with them and help me keep an eye on the anxiety level.”

“Things can get stressful quickly?”

He gave her an emphatic nod. “Faster than the speed of light.”

“It looks like I
have
to find a hobby or two.”

“All part of the job.”

“You and I don’t get any real downtime, then?”

He snorted. “We’re on call for the next ten months.”

“And you came back to do this for a fourth time?”

He shrugged. “I like it. It’s a challenge. Are you here mainly to finish your husband’s project?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.” He tilted his head to one side. “And the fact that you’re still grieving and this place is the farthest thing from home has nothing to do with it?”

Ice formed around her, sucking all the heat out of the air and her lungs. “No.” She lifted her chin. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. Really.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Really.”

“Yes.”

For a long moment he seemed to consider her words then he shook his head and closed the distance between them. “You’re okay right now, but in three months, when you start feeling the darkness closing in on you, you might not be. Let’s get this out in the open and deal with it before it becomes a problem.”

She tried not to frown, to keep her expression serene. “It? What
it
are you talking about?”

“Your husband.” Tom sighed. “Every time anyone mentions him you look as if someone’s stabbed you in the gut.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide, the cold spreading like an infection throughout her body. “I had no idea. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. What you need to do is talk it out. Unload.” His face softened. “Tell me about him. How did he die?”

Emilie closed her eyes against the pain, guilt and confusion that welled up from deep inside. She was so cold, so damned cold. “I don’t know if talking about it here is a good idea.”

“No one is going to walk in today. They know they’ll just get put to work. Now is the perfect time.” He paused, watching her face with an intensity that made her nervous for more than one reason. “Unless… Have you spoken with anyone about your husband?”

“My psychologist.”

“What about friends?”

“A few times, but…” She shook her head. “Not enough.”

“We’ve got to work together, and in order for us to do that I’ve got to trust you and you’ve got to trust me,” Tom said in a warm tone. “Just think of me as a post. Vent. Yell if you want to.”

Why did he have to look so strong?

Emilie shook with pent-up anguish almost as powerful as what she’d experienced a year ago. Time wasn’t easing the pain. Maybe Tom was right, maybe this was about trust. Or, a way to build it.

Concern had chiseled a furrow between his eyes and turned the corners of his mouth down. He was offering to listen with no judgments or conditions.

Do it, just say the words.
Maybe then she’d stop dreaming about it every night. Maybe she’d let it go. “My husband died of a heart attack,” she whispered.

Tom’s hands closed gently on her shoulders. “How old was he?”

Emilie could barely get the word out. “Forty.”

“High blood pressure, stress?”

“No.” She shook her head violently. “He was healthy and very fit. Scheduled to go up in a shuttle launch in less than a year when it happened.”

Tom’s next question was hesitant. “Were you there when he died?”

“Yes. I gave him CPR, but…”

“No wonder.” He sighed and moved closer still, bringing her into the curve of his arm. “It’s okay.”

She made a small sound of negation. When was death ever okay?

He rubbed his hand in a circle on her back, the way a mother would to soothe a baby. “How did it happen?”

“We were hiking, too far from medical help.” She could see it all happening again, hear herself yelling, screaming at David to fight, to breathe.

A gentle touch at her temple brought her back to the present. Tom had one hand on her back, while the other cradled her head. She buried her nose in his sweater and clutched him around the middle.

God, he felt good. Strong, solid, masculine. Like a sun-warmed stone in the middle of an icy mountain creek. She clung to him, soaking up his heat and strength.

She stood there for a long time, letting herself hold him, letting him hold her. A calm seemed to well up from the bottom of her belly, loosening clenched muscles and knotted emotions.

Emilie backed out of his embrace. Shouldn’t she be feeling disloyal? It had only been a year. She hadn’t thought of another man in that time. Hadn’t been touched by one, hadn’t wanted to be touched by one. But, Tom’s touch…. No, she wouldn’t cross the line between friendship and more. Getting close could only lead to disappointment and pain, for her and him. Until she let go of David completely, she wasn’t good for any man. “Well, I think that’s enough tears for today. Can we talk about this more later?” she asked, sucking in a stuttering breath. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“Avoiding the subject isn’t going to make it go away.”

“I know, but I don’t think going through every detail right now will solve anything, either.”

“Maybe it will,” he said, his voice filled with sympathy.

“Maybe,” she allowed. “But we’ve got lots of time.” She swallowed hard. “Give me a chance to get my bearings.”
And to learn how to keep from leaning too much on you
.

He looked at her for a long second. “Fine. I’ll let it go for the moment, but life’s going to get tough here, Emilie. Tougher than you can imagine, and you have no idea what your emotions are going to do.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got a meeting down in the powerhouse. Why don’t you have a look around, get familiar with your setup and I’ll check in on you in a couple of hours.”

“I may not be here.” Here to do a job, she planned on doing it well. Part of that job was looking after the health of everyone at the station. “I want to go for a stroll and make sure I’ve met everyone.”

“Good idea. We’ll finish this conversation later.”

“It might not be for a while.”

“But it will happen.” He didn’t wait for her to refuse or argue further; instead he nodded and strode out the door.

Emilie stared after him.

She had come to Antarctica to get away from her past, to try to find a way around it, to move on. She knew that. But why would a man as vibrant, interesting and compassionate as Tom keep coming back?

What was he running from?

At six o’clock, Emilie sat in the cafeteria with Sharon and Carol finishing off her dinner. They’d both wintered here before and had plenty of tales to tell. Especially about the men they considered eligible. Like Stan, who could play guitar and knew more ways to have fun than should be allowed. And Tyler, who, despite being a party animal, could fix anything.

“What about Tom?” she asked them.

“Tom?” Sharon repeated, blinking.

Carol snorted and took a sip of her coffee.

Emilie looked from one to the other. “Is he married or something?”

Carol choked.

“No way,” Sharon said, pounding her on the back. “Tom doesn’t do long-term relationships. At least, not that I’ve ever seen.”

“Me neither,” Carol sputtered in between coughs.

“Why not?”

Both women looked at Emilie with raised brows.

“I mean, he’s good-looking, smart, funny,” she continued.

“He’s also in charge and he refuses to play favorites.”

“Yeah, I remember his first winter,” Carol said. “He actually told one of the beakers, a PhD from a university, that he wasn’t interested in more than the occasional one-night stand.”

“Wow.”

“He’s honest, you’ve got to give him that,” Sharon said.

“Yeah, but that’s kind of harsh.”

“She took it anyway,” Carol added after a moment.

“Took what?”

“His terms. She agreed to the friend-with-benefits stuff.”

Emilie’s mouth dropped open. “Why?”

“Because he’s hot.” Sharon winked.

“And it’s all she really wanted,” Carol added.

“Oh.”

“Not your thing?” Carol asked.

She couldn’t imagine it. “No.” Her voice cracked.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Sharon asked.

The words stuck in her throat, but she forced them out. “I was married. He died last year.” It didn’t hurt as much to say as before. The relief that followed took twenty pounds off her shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” Sharon laid a hand on hers. “You interested in Tom?”

Was she? “I just don’t know what to expect. He’s asked me to trust him, but it’s not that easy for me to open up.”

“Don’t be afraid,” Carol said. “Not of Tom. He’s one of the most decent men I’ve ever met.”

“Ditto from me,” Sharon agreed. “After he gets to know you, little things will start happening. Your favorite dessert will appear on the menu if you’ve had a bad day, or an email from a friend will magically arrive in your inbox. He makes that extra effort for his people and in return, his crews are among the most content. And loyal.”

Tom walked into the cafeteria and met Emilie’s gaze with a half smile. She nodded in response, said goodbye to Sharon and Carol, then bussed her tray and headed for the door. She needed time to think. Time to find a new emotional balance. Talking with Tom only seemed to tip the scales one way or another.

“Emilie,” he said as she passed him in the cafeteria line. “I’d like a word.”

Damn, she hadn’t moved fast enough. She pasted a pleasant smile on her face. “Sure, here or…”

He angled his head toward the door and she led the way, pausing before the exit.

He examined her, looking for what she wasn’t sure. “How’s it going?”

“You were right. I’m starting to put names to faces.”

He smiled and nodded. “Fantastic. Did you hear about the movie tonight?”

She nodded. “But I have work to do. I tore apart the clinic.”

“There’ll be plenty of time tomorrow for work, and the movie is a fairly new one. At least in the supply we get. I think you should go. It’ll give you a chance to interact with most of the crew at once.”

He had a point. “Okay, maybe I can find someone to help move my heavy stuff around.”

“I’m sure I can find a few guys to do that for you. So how about I pick you up at your quarters in thirty minutes?” Tom didn’t wait for an answer. Instead he turned, took a plate from the stack and entered the buffet line.

Confusion held her motionless. Did he just ask her on a date?

“Where did you want this stuff?”

Emilie moved an empty box to one side. The clinic looked as if a tornado had descended and tossed the contents of the room, leaving no space unoccupied. “Hmm, how about to the left of the bed.”

Sharon and Carol navigated the chaos and set their box down.

“For a plumber and a cook the two of you do a great job as movers.”

“Ha,” Sharon said. “We’re about to turn into pumpkins. The movie is going to start soon.”

“Can we go now?” Carol asked hopefully. “You’re coming with us, right?”

“Stop with the puppy-dog eyes, that won’t work with me. I really need to get this done.” She needed a map just to find the door. “The place is a mess.”

“Oh, come on, this stuff isn’t going anywhere. It’ll be fun.”

Emilie paused. She should mingle and get a feel for the personalities she’d be dealing with for the next several months.

There was no reason to worry about possibly running into Tom. No reason at all.

Still, the thought of his arms around her and his heart beating, strong and steady beneath her ear, did make her a little dizzy.

“Yeah,” Carol pleaded. “You can finish organizing tomorrow. Besides, this is a great way to meet anyone you might have missed.”

When had Emilie become such a coward? She’d come here hoping to heal and wasn’t going to do that sitting in her room alone every night. All she had to do was visit with people other than Tom. He had asked her to get involved and get to know everyone, and she’d made a commitment to do just that.

She straightened. “Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me, I’ll come.” It was past time for her to take affirmative action, to remind herself she was more than a childless widow. Time to make a new plan.

“Yay,” Sharon said, pumping her arm in the air. “Let’s go.”

Emilie followed Sharon and Carol out and down the hall. They led her to the cafeteria, but the kitchen and seating area were dark. A large-screen TV lit up the far wall.

The place was full of people, almost every seat occupied, and it was too dark to tell who was who. The two women disappeared into the crowd.

How was she supposed to meet or chat with anyone like this?

Emilie turned to go, but one of the shadowy figures at the back, a man with wide shoulders and narrow hips, waved, pointing to an empty seat next to him. She sat and turned to thank him.

Tom. Her heart rate sped up.

He gave her a big grin. “Glad you decided to join us,” he said in a low tone that wasn’t quite a whisper. “When you weren’t in your room I’d wondered where you’d gone.”

“I was working, but Sharon and Carol begged, bargained and bribed me into coming.” Emilie looked around. “Unfortunately, they’ve abandoned me already.”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Their loss, my gain.”

He shouldn’t look at her that way, like he was glad to see her and interested in what she had to say. “Listen,” she began. “About that conversation you wanted to finish.” She glanced away and shook her head. “I’d rather not.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He actually sounded regretful, and surprise had her darting a gaze at him.

“Because you and I need to work together for the foreseeable future.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Closely together.”

His smile and touch were warm and comforting, and she shivered with the desire to melt into him.

Resist, she had to resist. “I’m just not comfortable talking to someone I’ve just met.”

Tom’s smile slipped for a moment, but returned a second later. “Most of the normal social rules don’t apply here.” He took her right hand in his. “You and I, we’re a team. We’ve got to be tight.”

“What—” she stared at their joined hands, almost afraid to finish the question, “—do you mean?”

He shifted toward her. “Remember what I said about trust? Either one of us may need to make a judgment call that could affect every single life here at any time, and we may not have time to explain our decisions. That’s why we have to get through this awkward get-to-know-you stage as quickly as possible.”

“I know nothing about you except that everyone thinks you’re some kind of saint or fallen angel, depending on who you talk to. But
you
haven’t told me anything.”

He shrugged and sat back. “What do you want to know?”

Good grief, did she have to give him a questionnaire? “Where are you from? Are you married? Do you have any kids? Occupation? Why are you here? What flavor of ice cream do you like?” She threw her hands up in the air. “Whatever you care to tell me.”

“Philadelphia. No. None. Power engineer and paramedic. Strawberry.”

She crossed her arms. “You missed one.”

He ticked items off on his fingers. “Hometown, marital status, kids, occupation and ice cream. Nope, I got them all.”

“You forgot the one about why you’re here.”

He grinned. “Because this is the coolest place to work on earth. Literally.”

“Very funny. You want me to spill my guts, yet you give me one word, flippant answers.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood.”

She glared at him. “Keep trying.”

“Picky woman,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, and shook his head. “I’m the oldest of ten kids.”

“Ten?” That set her back. “No wonder you don’t mind sharing space with other people.”

“Yeah, well, this is nothing compared to how crowded things were when I was little. I’m not married, never have been and never will be. Ditto on kids. I play a mean saxophone and prefer making love on a bed rather than the beach.” He leaned in close to say, “Chafing isn’t something I go in for.”

Emilie shoved the vision of him naked on a bed away. “Why don’t you want to get married or have kids?”

“My lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to relationships.”

“Lifestyle?”

“I travel all over the world to work and don’t really have a permanent home. Oddly enough, I’ve spent more time on the Ice than anywhere else. I indulge in an affair once in a while, but the real thing…” He shook his head. “No. Not for me.”

That made no sense. Here was a man with depth and intelligence, and sexy with a capital
S
.

“Why don’t you want a real relationship?”

His answering laugh held no humor. “Why go for real when light and playful are less hazardous and usually available.”

His second demerit, playboy syndrome. “Not every relationship damages people.”

He slid her a sidelong glance. “I’m practical. The only real relationships I’ve ever seen end up leaving both parties wounded and bleeding, literally and figuratively. Are you trying to tell me
you’re
okay when it’s the furthest thing from the truth? You’re still wearing your husband’s ring and he’s been dead for how long?”

“A year.”

“A whole year and to you that’s real?”

How dare he criticize a relationship he knew nothing about? “More real than what you have.”

“I know what I want and it isn’t a wife and kids. There’s no way I’m going to saddle some unsuspecting woman with me and my bad habits.”

“If she loves you, the bad habits won’t matter. David and I both had them when we got married, but they weren’t important. It’s called being in love.”

“Were you living in some fairy tale?” Tom asked. “Of course they matter. Only someone who’s convinced herself they don’t exist would believe that.”

“
You’re
the one who doesn’t have a clue. As long as you’ve figured out the important stuff, you’ll be okay.”

He smiled and chuckled. “I think you’re living in a fairy tale, you think I’m clueless. Aren’t we a pair?” Standing, he shook his head a couple of times. “You know, I think we’re going to get along just fine.” He crouched beside her and whispered in her ear, “Better than fine.” He straightened and walked away.

Emilie watched the movie without paying much attention to it for a long time after Tom left. He sounded like he had his life all figured out. No commitments, no kids, live for the moment, the job, and have a good time.

She rubbed a palm over her cold belly. There was so much more to life than that.

Too bad she couldn’t take her own advice.

“You okay?” a gruff voice asked.

She glanced up. Bob stood next to her chair.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just trying to do the impossible.”

He sat in the chair Tom had vacated. “Nothing’s impossible.”

One side of her mouth kicked up. “I’m trying to understand the male mind.”

He laughed, a full-hearted bellow that transformed him into a teddy bear. “Okay, you got me there, but since us males can’t figure you women out, I’d say we’re even.”

“Do you think I have a chance at success?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Depends on the man.”

“Tom.”

Bob snorted and grinned. “Him? Nope.”

“Really? Have you known him long?”

“A few years.” The grin dissolved. “He’s a good man.”

“He’s confusing. He keeps asking questions I don’t know how to answer.”

Bob laughed again. “Ah, well, I’ll let you in on a little secret about Tom.”

She leaned closer. “Please do.”

“Tom’s a complicated guy, but he’s got a protective streak bigger than the Ross Ice Shelf. Especially where women are concerned.”

“Oh.” That explained a lot. No wonder he kept asking questions, kept at her to talk. “Thanks, Bob. I appreciate you telling me that.”

“Solving the world’s problems?” Stan dragged a chair over to join them.

She snorted. “I’m having enough trouble just trying to solve my own.”

Bob smiled and winked. “She wants the inside scoop on Tom.”

“Of course she does, she’s the station doctor,” Stan said to Bob, then turned to Emilie. “What would you like to know?”

A big question. “You trust him?”

“Without hesitation.”

“Is he fair?”

“Scrupulously.”

“What’s he like in a crisis?”

“The Rock of Gibraltar.”

“You make him sound like he’s perfect.”

“No one’s perfect, but Tom knows himself, knows his limits and asks for help when he needs it.”

“What’s his Achilles’ heel?”

“You.”

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Tom has a real soft spot for petite women, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.”

“But…”

“You want to know more, ask him. It’s his story to tell.”

Emilie opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it. She smiled and changed the subject. “What about you two?”

“I love to travel,” Stan said. “This place is pretty special as far as destinations go.”

“Me,” Bob said, “I’m simple. I like to work hard, eat well and play often.”

“Play?”

“Chess, cards, Monopoly. You name the game and Bob’s probably played it,” Stan told her.

“I’m a shark at Monopoly,” she announced.

“Oh ho, is that a challenge?” Bob laughed.

She kept her expression bland. “Just a statement.”

“What would you say to a tournament?” he asked.

“I would say, bring all your assets. You’re going to need them.”

“Excellent.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’ll plan it, though it probably won’t be for a couple of weeks.”

Emilie shrugged. “I’m not worried. We’ve got all winter.” She glanced at her watch. It was getting late and she still felt tired from all the traveling the day before. “I’m going to my room to crash, but please stop by the clinic anytime to chat.”

Bob’s grin was wide and happy. “I will. Good night.”

Stan saluted her. “Sleep well, Doc.”

“Thank you,” she said to both men. “Really. Thank you.”

The corridors were empty and silent except for her footfalls. The station could have been abandoned except for the barely audible hum of the station’s generators located two stories below.

She detoured to check on the clinic. The atmosphere inside was almost tomblike. She stared at the menagerie of medications, analyzers and monitors littering the floor. She had everything she needed to treat every malady except her own. Loneliness wasn’t listed in the medical textbooks.

Thinking back on all the people she’d met, maybe she wouldn’t be suffering from that problem for long.

“You open, Doctor?”

Emilie turned to see Mark swaying a little on his feet.

“Always.”

He wobbled again and she frowned, walking toward him. “How long have you been sick?”

“I ain’t sick exactly.” He smiled like a shark—all teeth.

His expression made her pause, but she reached out and felt his forehead anyway, expecting it, from his untidy speech and uncertain balance, to be hot. “You don’t have a fever.”

His grin slid into a sleazy suggestion. “You’re the only cure to what’s bothering me.”

His breath reached her nose and the reek of alcohol made her cringe, but he grabbed her wrist and held her in place.

“You’re drunk.” She couldn’t stop her nose from wrinkling.

“Nah, I’m horny. There’s a difference.” His gaze traveled her body and she recognized the expression on his face. He was prepared to hurt her.

She used a judo move to twist out of his grasp and back away. “Get out.” If he touched her again, she’d put him on the floor.

“You’re the doctor, you’re supposed to make it all better.”

“Stupidity can’t be cured.”

He blinked several times. “I’m not sure, but wasn’t that an insult?”

“Get out of here, or—”

“Or what? You’ll scream for help?” He leaned forward on unsteady feet, and Emilie was surprised he didn’t fall smack on his face.

She opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t the one who needed help when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and thrust face-first into the wall, his right hand twisted behind his back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mark?” Tom shouted in his ear, punctuating each word with a shove against the other man’s back.

“I didn’t do nothing, I swear.” Mark didn’t seem so sly anymore.

Tom threw a furious glance at Emilie.

“He’s drunk and supposedly horny.”

“You idiot,” Tom growled.

“Now, no harm done. I never touched her.”

“Excuse me?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You grabbed me.”

Tom snarled and rammed his arm against the back of Mark’s neck, blocking the man’s airway. “You’re fired, got that? Fired. We’ve got one more plane scheduled to land in two days, and you’re going to be on it when it leaves.” He pressed his elbow even harder against the back of Mark’s neck. “If you come within twenty feet of Emilie between now and then, I will personally kick your—”