Sam liked to both boulder and trad climb. He’d shown up to climb in the area like so many others. He had driven a four-wheel-drive rig containing his possessions and camped at one of the local campgrounds. He didn’t ask anything of anyone. He seemed to live off the land for the most part, but he wasn’t afraid of work and he was good at almost everything. She’d noticed him right away working in town for Carl Montgomery, the local contractor. Well, the only decent one. If Carl hired him, that meant he was good.
It was impossible not to notice him. Stella noticed everyone. She was detail oriented, which was why she was so good at her job. Sam was a loner, even in the middle of a busy work site. He rarely spoke to anyone, but that didn’t stop him from doing any task asked of him. In the end, she decided he would be perfect working at the resort as a handyman. He could do just about any type of job she required.
She offered him a good salary, a cabin year-round and a four-wheel-drive vehicle upgrade. He hadn’t jumped at the offer. He’d taken his time, thinking it over. He even came up to the resort and looked it over before making up his mind. She’d liked him even better for that. She’d never once regretted her decision to hire him, even when he was annoying as hell because he almost never spoke.
Stella met his dark, compelling eyes. It wasn’t easy. Looking into his eyes never was. Sometimes she thought it was like looking into hell.
“I can be gone, you want me that way, Stella.”
He said it so quietly at first the words didn’t actually penetrate. When they did, her entire body nearly shut down. She had to turn her face away quickly, afraid he’d see the burn of tears. Afraid he’d see the panic she felt.
“Why would you say that to me, Sam?” She could barely speak, barely get the question out. “Because I asked you a question? Why would you say that to me?” She wanted to get up and leave him there, but she was afraid if she did, he would shove all his belongings into his backpack and go and she’d never see him again.
Sam was even more closed off than she was. It was possible he didn’t feel anything at all for anyone. Did she mean so little to him? Probably. She’d built up their relationship because she needed someone. He was truly self-sufficient. She thought she was, but in the end, she needed the resort, her friends. Sam. She needed Sam. The thought of being without him wrenched at her. Maybe she was just feeling so vulnerable because of the nightmares and uncertainty. Because she was afraid for everyone.
“I know things sometimes if people matter to me. You matter to me, so I know when you feel like shit.”
Stella’s fingers tightened on her coffee mug. That was the very last admission she’d expected from Sam. His tone was exactly the same, that low blend of masculine sensuality that sank under her skin and found her somewhere deep. To other people who didn’t ever act on little unexplained urges, his explanation might have sounded ludicrous, but to her, it was perfectly reasonable.
It was the first time Sam had ever said anything that might make him vulnerable. He all but implied he had a psychic ability, or at the very least, a heavy intuition. She wanted to give him something of herself back. It was only fair. Something real.
“I have nightmares sometimes. Bad ones. Once they start, they come in clusters. I can’t get any sleep when it happens. Nothing helps.” That was all true. She drank a little more of the coffee and kept her free hand in Bailey’s fur.
Sam was silent for a long time. When she dared to look at him, he was looking at the mountains. The sun’s rays had scattered color through the trees and ghostly mist. The sight never failed to stir her.
“What kinds of things bring on your nightmares? What are they about?”
Those were good questions. She should have thought he might ask her questions like those. He was intelligent and he was a fixer.
“Dead bodies floating beneath the surface of the lake.” She blurted the truth out. Or half truth. It came out strangled because a part of her felt like it was a lie and he’d given her something of himself. Made himself vulnerable to her after two years of dancing around each other. He’d opened himself up to ridicule and she was still closed off. He was astute. He knew there was something she wasn’t telling him and it had to hurt. She would be hurt.
Stella forced herself to look up at him because he at least deserved that. Those dark eyes of his studied her face. Penetrating. Seeing too much. She knew there were shadows under her eyes. But what could she really tell him? There was no body. Not even an accident yet. She definitely was going to use her day off to drive around the lake and see if she could find the location where the fisherman would be killed if she couldn’t prevent it. The worst of it was, there were several lakes in the area popular with fishermen. Still, she was certain the location was her beloved lake.