Snowbound (12 page)

He was glad she wasnt going to be in trouble for making the wrong decision and getting stranded. She clearly loved her job.

John hit Print so he could take her e-mail home with him and read it again. In the meantime, he wrote back, thanking her for letting him know theyd made it and saying,

Do you think there are three movies at the multiplex worth seeing?

Then,

It occurs to me that I cant very well go anywhere over Thanksgiving. Im expecting a full house here at the lodge. Ill let you know when it looks like I can get down there.

Cop-out? he wondered, remembering the relief hed felt when he realized going to his parents for the holiday just wasnt practical. But it was true that his rooms were one hundred percent booked over Thanksgiving weekend.

He needed to get going now; a couple was scheduled to arrive this afternoon, two more groups tomorrow. He didnt intend to put any of them in Fionas room. He wanted to think of it as
her
room for as long as possible. He typed,

Hope Dieter and Willows romance lasts. They both need it.

Johns fingers hovered over the keys. Damn. He couldnt remember ever struggling over a few simple words the way he was now. But something told him it was important that he strike the right balance, sounding friendly but not desperate.
Please come back
would scare her off. He finally settled on,

If you have time, e-mail me.

Place isnt the same without you.

No. He backed the cursor up, changing the sentence to,

Place isnt the same without all of you.

Send and it was gone, before he could have second thoughts.

He read his other e-mails and responded briefly. He never knew what to say anymore to his parents or sisters. But theyd worry if he didnt answer at all.

Supplies loaded, he headed back up the mountain, arriving barely an hour before the obviously wealthy
couple in a Lexus SUV, who tipped him when he carried their bags up to their room, then wondered how far it was to the nearest restaurant and whether he had a hot tub. His Web site emphasized the isolation of the lodge, the family-style meals and the rustic rooms and cabins. It didnt hide the fact that bathrooms were basic and shared. Maybe these two had just looked at the pretty pictures and skipped the fine print. Yeah, and maybe, he thought hopefully, theyd decide to leave tomorrow.

It had been weeks since hed had a really ugly nightmare. He had one that night. John woke to find himself rearing up in bed, his throat raw from his shouted warning that came too late. Even in his nightmares, he couldnt let himself see the worst parts. The last thing he remembered was knowing hed been hurt bad, lying with his leg not right, and staring with bewilderment at the mud-brick wall that had provided meager shade while he gathered the boys for a pickup game. NowGod. Before his dazed, uncomprehending eyes, it was splashed with bucketfuls of blood. So shockingly bright as it dripped.

His stomach heaved, just as it had that day. Then, after staring dazed at the blood dripping from a soccer ball, he had pushed himself to his knees to puke and seenHe lifted a shaking hand and rubbed his face. No. He wasnt going to remember. Not that. Thank God he always awakened before he saw anything worse than the blood.

He didnt know why his life had been spared. Maybe the sight wasnt the point of the nightmares. Sometimes
he thought it was his shouted warning that came simultaneously with the blast, as if his subconscious wanted to remind him over and over again that hed been ineffectual.

As if he didnt know? he raged at himself. He was just goddamned lucky that his subconscious didnt seem to realize that ineffectual was the least of it. In his bumbling navet and with his good intentions, he had
invited
the horror.

Sitting there in the dark, still shaking and battling the nausea, he thought,
I am the angel of death.

Fiona wouldnt have been so grateful if shed known. She wouldnt have trusted him. She wouldnt so easily have brushed off the incident when hed seen the boys fall and blood color the snow.

What if hed told her? he wondered, but was shaking his head before he could pursue the speculation. His life goal was to repress all memory of those few minutes. Only once had he described what had happened, when, from a stretcher, hed had to identify the suicide bombers bodythe scattered bits of his body. John never intended to tell another soul. Words had power. Stories once told lived on, refusing to be corked inside a bottle.

He got up and went to his bathroom. After splashing water that was just this side of freezing on his face, he looked at himself in the mirror. The angry scar stood out like a brand. How had Fiona looked at his face and seen anything but the scar?

The fact that she had was a miracle. Miracles were rare and precious. Hed be a fool to turn his back on this one.

Go see her.

When was he supposed to do that? He didnt have a weekend until March without reservations. Suppose he drove down on a Monday. Shed be working. At best shed save an evening for him. He didnt want just an evening, he wanted
her.

Memories of Fiona haunted him all week. The way she curled her feet under her in the chair. The flash of bare legs when shed stripped in front of the fire that first night. Her smile, her laugh, the soft grumpy sound she made when she awakened. Every damn thing he did reminded him of her.

Monday he drove back down to town for no other reason than to check e-mail. Shed responded with a chatty update. Willow and Dieter were holding hands in the hall between classes and Willow glowed. Amy was subdued. Maybe chastened?

Fiona, he thought, could never be anything but hopeful.

She wrote about her plans for Thanksgiving and asked if hed be making a big dinner with all the trimmings for his guests.

He hit Reply and told her about this weekends guests, including the couple whod stayed but eaten at the end of the table, keeping their voices low and ignoring the two other couples, and who had complained before leaving that his rates were out of line given the lack of luxuries.

Were you polite? Fiona asked with interest the following week, before describing her Thanksgiving stay
with her mother who, astonishingly, had invited a male friend to dinner.

Im embarrassed at how terribly awkward I found it, even though they were very careful not to even brush hands while passing the gravy. Honestly. I felt like a sullen twelve-year-old!

John reported:

I was one hell of a lot politer than he deserved. I even reduced his bill.

I wish I could have seen your face, Fiona said, and he could almost hear her laughing.

John started driving to town twice a week to check his e-mail and write her. She always responded immediately. He began to resent the lodges lack of telephone service that would have allowed him to have an Internet connection.

Of course, he could call her. But talking never came easily to him. He could just imagine the silences so long hed keep wondering if hed been cut off. She would undoubtedly sound warm and friendly, but without seeing her face how could he tell if it was forced?

Until shed come to the lodge, he hadnt known he was lonely, but now with her gone, the isolation from any meaningful human contact ate at him. It was almost worse when the lodge was occupied. People rarely came alone. They came in couples, family groups, parties of friends. He would see the way they touched each other
or the depth of communication in a smile, hear laughter and a note of intimacy in their voices, and he might as well have been outside in the cold peering through the window, so apart did he feel.

He didnt tell Fiona that, of course. Hed revealed enough to her. Shed seen him stagger when his leg failed. Hed made a fool enough of himself when hed tackled her during that flashback.

He was getting desperate enough to wonder whether he could tolerate staying with his parents or sister if he went down to see her, when she gave him the idea.

She wrote,

I love getting your e-mails, but I miss you anyway. I imagine us sitting in front of the fire talkingof course, if there are guests theyre closeted in their rooms where they belong.

The smile was in her voice, even writing.

Or perhaps were hiding in the laundry room. I confess, I think about the laundry room often.

His fingers seemed to type of their own volition.

Your Christmas break is coming up. You must have at least a couple of weeks off. Spend them at the lodge with me.

His heart was thudding after he hit Send. He sat and stared at the screen as if he expected an instant reply. Damn. How was he going to wait days? Even one day?

What if she already had plans? What if she didnt feel she could desert her mother? What if she was just talking, and hadnt meant a word of it?

He was back at the library the next morning just after ten oclock. His only e-mail was from Mizzmack.

I thought youd never ask, she said simply.

T
HE ROAD FELT
familiar, but this trip was very different from the one down the mountain, when road conditions had still been difficult and Fiona had been so aware that she was responsible for the lives of the eight teenagers with her. Behind the wheel of her own car, the pavement bare, it seemed no time before she left the placid Willamette Valley behind and began the climb into the forested foothills of the Cascade Mountains. As each mile passed, her apprehension and anticipation ratcheted higher and tangled together.

She meant something to John, Fiona kept reassuring herself. She wasnt alone in feeling this powerful connection, or at least attraction. He had gone to a lot of effort to maintain the e-mail correspondence with her. The e-mails held a whole lot more meaning when she knew hed had to drive a hundred miles round trip to send each one. She might not have had the courage to make this trip if hed been able to casually reply whenever he had nothing better to do. The effort required, the fact that hed driven down the mountain twice a week when clearly he preferred to avoid town,
that
gave her confidence.

On the other handshe was going to spend as much as ten days with a man she hardly knew. A man who had gotten angry when she pressed him to find out what was bothering him.

Going with the full intention of sharing his bed, although theyd left that open.

I havent booked your room over the holidays, hed written.

She had been careful not to respond to that remark. Knowing she could have a room to herself meant she could chicken out. Or at least take her time. Get to know him again before baring herselfliterallyfor him.

Fiona stopped for lunch in Danson, not wanting to arrive hungry in case John was busy with guests. The choices were a homey-looking caf and a burger joint. She picked the burger joint, even though she was tempted to opt for the caf and hope she had a gossipy waitress. It would be interesting to know what locals thought of the new owner of Thunder Mountain Lodge. But now that she was so close, Fiona couldnt imagine browsing a menu, waiting for food, then for a bill. The need to
get
there was rising in her, to find out if John Fallon still had that instant effect on her.

So she went in just to use the rest room and order her burger and fries to go.

The forest closed in just outside of town. No more than three or four inches of snow had lain frozen on the ground in Danson, but with every hundred feet of elevation the road gained, the snowbanks grew higher. There was still nowhere near the amount of snow as
there had been in November, but there was plenty for cross-country skiers and snowmobilers. She passed several turnouts with a couple of vehicles parked in each and various tracks in the snow leading away.

She came around a curve in the road and suddenly, there it was. Sooner than shed expected. Thunder Mountain Lodge, the familiar sign announced. Just beyond it, the highway ended against a low wall of snow. Fiona shivered in memory of her stupidity. She and the kids had been the last people to make it over the pass heading toward eastern Oregon, and would be the last until sometime next spring. How long would it have taken for them to be found if theyd gotten stuck up there somewhere, with the snow that fell for two days burying the van?

Thank God for Dieter,
she thought, for at least the hundredth time.

The narrower lane had been plowed, too, but patches of snow clung to the hard-packed gravel. She drove carefully on the steep descent, her heart thudding as she waited for the lodge to come into sight. She had grown to love it, Fiona realized; in comparison, her town house was bland. No massive river rock fireplace, no deep, claw-foot bathtub, no peeled log walls and broad plank floors.

One more curve, and the lodge appeared, looking just as she remembered it the day they left, when she had turned back just once, wanting to remember it accurately.

The steep, shake roof was punctuated by dormers with small-paned windows for the bedrooms, a smaller one behind which she knew lay the bathroom with that
amazing bathtub. The porch seemed larger without snow cloaking stairs and footings. From this vantage she could see the roofs of cabins amongst the trees, and the shed that had been half-buried in snow and was much larger than shed realized, the size of perhaps a triple garage.

Johns black 4Runner was nowhere to be seen, but a row of other vehicles reminded her that she and he wouldnt be alone. Far from alone. She counted five cars and SUVs.

A couple of kids had a blue plastic disk they were hauling up a short incline perfect for brief runs. A snowman tilted drunkenly in front of the porch.

She coasted to a stop at the end of the row of parked cars, set her emergency brake and turned off her engine. The moment she was out of the car, Fiona breathed in the crisp, clean air scented by fir. She was early. John probably wasnt watching for her yet. She could haul her suitcase herself, or even leave it in the trunk for later

The lodge door opened and he stepped out, his gaze going straight to her and never leaving her as he crossed the porch and came down the steps.

Her heart seemed to swell in her chest until it hurt. Like the lodge, he looked just as she remembered. No, better. Unbelievably sexy in jeans, boots, a flannel shirt and down vest, his dark hair shaggier as if he hadnt cut it since her visit. As he crossed the snowy ground to her, his limp was scarcely noticeable. Was he working to hide it?

Fiona couldnt seem to move. She simply stood by
the open trunk of her car and waited, drinking in the sight of him.

He stopped a couple of feet in front of her. You came.

Hearing the hoarseness in his voice, she said, You didnt think I would?

Iwasnt sure.

After the way I jumped at your invitation?

Finally, finally, his mouth softened. You did, didnt you?

Its the fresh air, she teased, finally able to breathe as an amazing sense of sureness filled her. Of course shed done the right thing, coming as soon as she could! How could she have done anything else, given the way John made her feel without even touching her?

We do have fresh air, he conceded. At last, he took another step and reached up with one cold hand to cup her cheek. God, Ive missed you, he murmured, and bent his head.

It was cold enough out here that her lips felt stiff, but he warmed them with astonishing speed, taking her mouth with a thorough kiss in which she felt the same raw need as in that last, memorable kiss in the laundry room.

A rough sound escaped him as he lifted his head, his dark eyes devouring in her face. I kept wishing I had a picture of you. I ordered a digital camera from Amazon, so I could take one this time.

I had a picture of you, she confessed. Kelli took it with her phone. She took a bunch of the lodge and everyone, and e-mailed them to all of us. But it was the one of you She stopped, not wanting to admit shed made it her computer screen wallpaper so shed see
him first thing when she turned on the computer, and last before she turned it off. He obviously hadnt known his picture was being taken. It had been out on the porch in daylight, his face averted. Perhaps because he looked away, it had captured the sense he gave of holding himself apart. Even though the photo wasnt great quality, the essence of him was there. She could look at it and remember the rough feel of his hard jaw, the way firelight cast shadows beneath strong cheekbones, the way he guarded himself from revealing emotion.

But not now. Now, he looked as if hed never expected to see her again. He seemed almost disbelieving.

You came,
she heard him say again, with something very like shock.

Youre certainly not alone. She nodded at the row of parked cars.

No, he said, as a childish shout rang out from the two who were catapulting down the short incline on their disk. There are two families with kids.

The resignation in his voice was familiar, and she grinned at him. No. Dont tell me. Teenagers?

One. Sullen, a girl. Maybe twelve or thirteen.

Fiona nodded. The words sullen and thirteen are synonymous when it comes to girls.

Yeah? He raised his brows, then evidently searched his memory. I guess it was that age when Lizzieone of my sisterswas such a brat.

That would be normal. Cheerful, willing and thirteen? Call the therapist.

She was pleased by the smile that transformed his face from remote to rakish.

Youre the expert. He reached into her trunk for her bag. Just the one?

What dye mean, just the one? Airlines would reject it. It must weigh sixty pounds.

He grunted as he heaved it out of the trunk. You know, we do have laundry facilities here.

She poked him with her elbow, and he laughed out loud.

The limp was more evident weighted down as he was, and she saw him wince climbing the steps to the porch, but she knew better than to offer to take the bag from him. Besidesshed had a heck of a time hoisting it into her trunk. She wasnt lying; the darn thing felt as if shed filled it with books instead of just her winter boots, ski pants and wool sweaters as well as plenty of changes of clothes. Okay, and a
few
books. Presumably shed have to entertain herself some of the time while he worked.

Inside, heat radiated from the enormous fireplace. The room, too, looked just as she remembered it, except there were strange people here. Unjust, perhaps, but for a moment she resented them, wanting to see Dieter and Erin and yes, even Amy instead of the middle-aged woman who lifted her head from a book and nodded, the kids who played checkers at the table, the couple strolling in from the kitchen.

A new guest? the woman, not much older than Fiona, asked with a pleasant smile.

In a way, she said, smiling in return. Im actually a friend of Johns.

Oh, how nice. Youll be here for Christmas, then? When she nodded, the woman sighed. Were leaving
on the twenty-fourth. Unfortunately. You know the drill. His family Christmas Eve. Mine Christmas Day. Neither satisfied.

Fiona had friends with the same problem, so she nodded sympathetically.

Well, Im sure well see you around. They started up the stairs to their room.

The moment of truth had only been delayed. Here it was, inescapable.

Face utterly expressionless, voice equally so, John asked, Shall I take your bag upstairs?

But shed known the answer from the moment she saw him. Your room is fine. Her boldness evaporated. That is, ifum, thats what you intended

The sudden heat in his eyes all but scorched her. Hoped. Not intended. If youd be more comfortable having your own room

Still shy, knowing her cheeks must glow, she shook her head.

John made a sound that didnt quite take shape as a word, then started for the back of the lodge pulling her gigantic suitcase behind him. Fiona had to trot a couple of steps to catch up and reach the swinging door to the kitchen before him to hold it open.

Three more people sat at the long table eating, a solitary older man reading and a couple laughing just before they turned their heads to see whod come into the kitchen.

Even as she exchanged greetings with them, she was startled by the dismay she felt. All she wanted was to be alone with John. Being alone was going to be a chal
lenge. They couldnt just go into his apartment, close the door andwell,
do
anything, not when they knew there were people right here in the kitchen.

He didnt seem to give a damn. The moment the door shut behind Fiona, John yanked her into his arms.

Your guests

To hell with em.

This kiss was hungry, raw. He had her plastered against him, and she tried to squeeze even closer. His tongue drove into her mouth, sliding against hers. She whimpered, he groaned. His hair was thick, coarse silk in her clutching hand, the muscles in his shoulder powerful and bunched.

Somebody knocked on the door and they both froze.

John lifted his head to mumble a profanity. Fiona rested her forehead against his chest and seized the chance to breathe.

Do you know where he is? they heard a muffled voice ask.

Fiona pushed him away. Youd better go.

Theyll survive if they cant find me for an hour, he growled.

Isnt there some kind of innkeepers oath? My guests comfort shall come first?

He gave her a sardonic look as she retreated. I didnt sign it. Oh, crap. He yanked open the door. Yeah?

Fiona didnt listen to the exchange beyond to gather that somebody was looking for snowshoes. John left, closing the door behind him, and she sank down on the bed, feeling shaky. Wow. Shed forgotten exactly what happened when he touched her. Forget sex as a pleasant
recreation, a nice bonding with a man she was trying to convince herself she was falling in love with. This wasincendiary. Primal. She felt as if, in those brief moments, he had somehow stripped her of all the small pretences that made up the person she presented in public.

Did John feel anywhere near as profoundly affected? she wondered. The stereotype held that sex was simpler for men, more physical and less emotional. But then, did a man who
wasnt
emotionally involved kiss a woman as if he didnt give a damn if he ever drew another breath?

Fiona didnt know. Her other relationships had been toowell, tepid. Maybe it was fortunate she and John had been interrupted just then, though; mightnt it be a good thing if they had a chance to talk before they fell into bed? Especially given all her doubts about whether he was willing to share more than the moment with her?

It might have been smart if shed taken the room at the top of the stairs and made sure their relationship had some substance beyond the physical before she agreed to share his bed.

Too late. And anywayFiona had a suspicion that if John came back right now and kissed her, shed forget
how
to talk, never mind that shed actually wanted to in the first place.

She pressed a hand to her chest to quell the butterflies. Why the cowardice now? Shed come up here to get to know John. Given the amazing chemistry between them, she refused to regret her decision to make love with him. But beyond thatWell, shed see. When shed been here with the kids, she and John couldnt find
enough time alone to really talk. Now, circumstances were different. Theyd have a chance to get to know each other. Yes, he was close-mouthed, but he was the one whod invited her. That meant something, right?