“The kid’s probably awake already, just killing time while she waits for the next installment of Akela the Wolf Dog.”
Wendy scrambled up against the pillows. “I can’t believe that I almost forgot!”
“I can.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “And I’m flattered.”
“Take that ego of yours and get out of the way, Castleman. I have to shower and dress.”
“And have breakfast.”
“Is there time? If the roads aren’t clear—”
“They are.” Seth planted a hand on either side of her. “There’s plenty of time. It’s just after six, and before you shriek and scream that I shouldn’t have awakened you...” He eased her back against the pillows. “...I did it because I thought we’d start the day off slowly.” His eyes locked to hers as he drew down the blankets and bared her breasts. “Any ideas how we could manage that?”
Wendy caught her breath as he stroked the tips of his fingers over her skin.
“Lots,” she whispered, and drew him into her arms.
* * *
THERE WAS NO SOUND but that of Wendy’s voice in the gathering room at Twin Oaks as she told more of the wondrous story of Akela the Wolf Dog and his beloved companion, Janie.
She’d said the other children would have to wait until evening to hear it, but they’d all been waiting for her when she and Seth reached the B and B. The children’s parents were there, too, and now they were all hanging on every word.
“Akela laid his massive head on Janie’s shoulder. ‘I promise,’ he said softly, ‘that I’ll always love you.’”
A soft sigh rose from the children seated on the carpet in front of Wendy, their faces turned up to hers. Not one of them had moved in the past twenty minutes. Even Robin and Randi were motionless.
“Janie felt tears sting her eyes. She wanted to cry with happiness for the wolf dog and with sorrow for herself. But she was a brave little girl. Akela had always said she was, so she blinked hard against the tears and wrapped her arms around his neck.”
The man seated beside Seth leaned closer. “She’s terrific,” he said quietly.
Seth smiled. “Yes. I think so, too.”
“‘I’ll come back to you, Janie,’ Akela said. ‘Every autumn, when the tundra turns to flame, listen for the whisper of the wind at the first new moon and you’ll hear my song as I journey here, to spend winter beside you.’”
Another communal sigh rose from the children. Wendy’s soft voice and wonderful story held them enthralled. Seth saw how their faces glowed with excitement. Wendy’s eyes held that same bright light. She was happier than he’d ever seen her, except in the days they’d skied together....
And in his arms last night.
For a little while this morning, after they’d made love, he’d held her against him and let himself believe that everything was going to be all right. Then she’d sighed and stirred against him.
“I missed you so much,” she’d whispered. “All these years... If you only knew how many times I wanted to fly home and go into your arms...”
“But you didn’t.”
“I couldn’t.” She’d lifted her head a little and looked into his eyes. “There’s so much you don’t know, that I haven’t told you about—about my fall and what it did to me.”
“You don’t have to explain, sweetheart,” he’d said softly. “I was too hurt to think things through back then, but I understand now. You must have felt as if you’d lost everything that made you who you were.”
She’d nodded, and her hair had feathered like silk against his shoulder.
“Yes. I’d never imagined myself as anybody but Wendy Monroe, champion skier.”
The words had hurt his heart. She must have sensed it because she’d added, in the very next breath, that the only other Wendy Monroe who’d ever existed was the one who loved him.
“And I lay in that hospital bed,” she’d said, so softly he’d had to strain to hear her, “and listened to what the doctors told me, and realized that I’d failed both Wendy Monroes, the one the whole town had sent off with posters that said, Go for the Gold...and the one who wanted to build a life with you.”
Hearing that had baffled him. How could she have thought the town would be disappointed in her? More important, how could she have thought her injuries would make a difference to him? She should have known he’d never stop loving her. All he had ever wanted was to love her and make her happy, to marry her so they could fill their lives with laughter and kids.
He’d told her all of that as he’d held her this morning, but instead of the smile he’d hoped for, Wendy’s face had closed up.
“It’s getting late,” she’d said. “I won’t get to Twin Oaks on time if we don’t get started.”
That was when he’d known that everything wasn’t going to have the fairy-tale ending he’d foolishly hoped for. He didn’t have her back. He probably never would, but he wouldn’t think about that. Last night would have to be enough.
Now, watching her as she spun a magical tale for the children, he knew he was kidding himself. A lifetime of Wendy would never be enough. He had to get through to her, make her see that they belonged together.
The children leaned forward, listening to the last words of the story. Wendy fell silent; the kids were silent, too, and then everyone in the room burst into applause. Seth waited as the children and their parents rushed up to thank Wendy and tell her how much they’d loved the story. When they finally left, he rose and went toward her.
“You were wonderful,” he said. He took her face in his hands, lifted it to his and brushed his mouth over hers. “Now I want you all to myself. No B and B, no guests, nothing but you and me and a day full of surprises.”
“More surprises?” She laughed. “Will I like them as much as your house?”
He slipped his jacket on, then helped her into hers. “Tonight’s, definitely. This afternoon’s...well, keep an open mind, okay?”
Her eyebrows rose. “This sounds serious.”
Her tone was teasing. His wasn’t.
“It is serious,” he said. “Trust me, okay? No matter what?”
She said she would, but he could see the confusion growing on her face as they drove north. Well, he’d felt just as uncertain when he’d made these plans early this morning. She’d fallen asleep in his arms. When her breathing was slow and even, he’d slipped from the bed and gone down to the den.
First, he’d checked his answering machine. Just as he’d hoped, Pommier had left a message. He was heading back to Cooper’s Corner. Could they meet tonight, at Twin Oaks? Seth reached him on his cell phone and cut right to the bottom line.
“Remember what I said about coming straight out if I wanted to ask you to see Wendy Monroe, Doc? Well, I’m asking. I know you’ve sworn off taking on new patients, and I know I’m presuming on our relationship—”
Pommier interrupted him and said, gently, that he’d been waiting for Seth’s call.
“You were?”
“Aunt Agatha’s always right,” Rod said.
Seth had hung up, chuckling. Then he’d made a call to Larry Cohen, who was in the volunteer program with him at Ski Wee. Would it be okay to stop by later and bring someone with him? Someone who might find the program interesting?
“Absolutely,” Larry had said, sounding pleased.
At least somebody was looking forward to this, Seth had thought, and decided not to consider the possible co
nsequences of either phone call. Instead, he’d busied himself by making breakfast.
He looked at Wendy, sitting beside him in the cab of his truck. One thing was certain. When he introduced her to Pommier, she’d be delirious with joy.
But when she saw where he was taking her now...
He was running one hell of a risk. For all he knew, what he was doing might ruin any chance they had at a permanent relationship, assuming they had a chance at all. But he didn’t have any choice. He loved Wendy. He had to do this.
Seth tightened his hands on the steering wheel.
Gina had been reduced to wringing her hands about her daughter. Howard was still trying to relive his life through her. Who was there to open her eyes to the truth, to who she really was, except him?
Wendy thought she knew all her options but he was willing to bet that she didn’t. Not deep inside, where it counted.
He had to make her see that there were many ways to be a winner in life.
A sign flashed by. Seth’s stomach did a slow roll. Just another few minutes, he thought, and put on his turn signal.
“Almost there,” he said lightly.
“Almost where?” Suspicion put an edge on the words. “Seth? I want to know where we’re going.”
He’d taken a back route, counting on the fact that the crossover road that would lead them to their destination was new enough that she wouldn’t figure things out until the last minute. Now he had to tell her the truth.
“To Jiminy,” he said, and braced himself for the ex-plosion.
Wendy didn’t disappoint him. She swung toward him, her face white with shock.
“Are you crazy? We are not going to Jiminy!”
“We’re expected.”
“Expected? By whom?”
“I’m a volunteer at Ski Wee. I spoke to a friend this morning and told him we’d be dropping by.”
“Why would you tell him that? Ski Wee hasn’t a thing to do with me!”
“It has to do with kids,” Seth said calmly, “and with skiing. And it seems to me that you like both.”
“I hate skiing.”
Her voice was low and trembling. He wasn’t sure if it was with anger or pain. He suspected it was both, and he was almost afraid to look at her, because if there were tears in her eyes, it would be the end of him. Was he doing the right thing? He had to believe he was. Someone had to make her see that she was as whole as she’d ever been, that her life had not ended the day she fell in Norway, but had only gone in a different direction.