A Time to Live (5 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Loch

BOOK: A Time to Live
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“Whoa,” a deep voice said, and the man lifted his hands.
“Miss Matthews, it’s just me.”

She quickly snapped on the flashlight.
Roumare flinched, squinting against the bright light.

“Mister...Mister Roumare?” she asked in shock, diverting the flashlight away from his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?”
Anger slowly replaced her fear.

“Checking on a neighbor.”

Neighbors? Good God, Emma, I’m going to kill you.
Nikki gritted her teeth. “So you check on neighbors by peering into their windows?”

He shook his head harshly.
“It wasn’t me, Miss Matthews. I saw him too.”

Her fear returned with a vengeance.

“I scared him away and he ran into the woods. I came back to make sure you were all right.”

Nikki remembered Emma’s warning and her fear intensified.
Roumare might be lying.

“Miss Matthews,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.
“I know you probably don’t believe me, but I can prove it to you.” He stepped back and motioned for her to follow him.

Nikki hesitated then abruptly lowered the board, staying about three paces behind him.
Wind continued to roar around them, whipping Nikki’s hair in her face. Roumare led her to a window beside the old oak tree and pointed to the ground.

Nikki shined her flashlight and saw a clear print of a hiking boot.
Roumare purposefully placed his foot next to it, then moved away. She blinked as she saw the two prints side by side. Roumare’s appeared larger and deeper. She doubted the man could have been him.

She sighed and dropped the board.
“Mister Roumare—”

“Michael.”

Nikki blinked up at him, the tension draining out of her. “Michael, I’m sorry. I saw the shadow outside my window and it scared me.”

The wind surged, creaking the branches over their heads.
Michael nodded. “I understand, Miss Matthews.”

“Nikki,” she prompted.

“Nikki, I’m sorry I frightened you, but I knew he didn’t belong here.”

“Did you see
—”

The wind howled and the crack of the tree limb sounded like a gunshot.

Michael lunged with amazing speed for such a large man. He plowed into Nikki and knocked her from her feet. The branch from the oak tree crashed into the window, glass showering both of them, and hit the ground, small leaves and branches landing on Michael’s back as he protected her with his own body.

Nikki sucked in her breath and realized her mistake as a coughing fit seized her.
Terror possessed her, the inhaler was in the house on the coffee table.

Michael hoisted himself from under the branches, dragging her with him.
“Nikki,” he called urgently, cradling her against his chest while she coughed. “Nikki, what’s wrong?”

The seizure wouldn’t stop.
If she didn’t reach her inhaler, the fit would kill her. Pain rocked through her chest and she couldn’t catch a breath to tell him.

Michael abruptly scooped her into his arms, carrying her inside the house.
He eased her onto the couch, still holding her close. “Easy,” he said, trying to calm her. “Just relax and breathe, Nikki.”

She moved, trying to reach her inhaler.
Michael’s gaze followed her outstretched hand to the table and he grabbed the inhaler, pressing it into her palm.

She lifted it to her lips praying she could find a breath to inhale.
Twice she pressed the inhaler but she kept coughing. For a terrorized instant, she feared it wouldn’t help. The chance that the mist would not stop the lung spasms loomed ever larger before her. One day it might not work at all and she would choke on her own blood.

Nikki tried a third time and closed her eyes as the medicine forced her lungs to relax.
She dragged in a grateful breath and slumped against Michael.

“It’s all right,” he said, stroking the hair from her face with surprising gentleness.

She marveled at the wall of power surrounding her. He smelled of earth and pine; a heady scent that dizzied her senses. He was pure power and wildness, as untamed as the mountains around them. Nikki couldn’t help but think she would do well to remember that.

“Are you all right?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. Now the questions would start.

“Nikki?” Michael asked worriedly.

“I’m...I’m all right.” Nikki struggled to sit up.

“Can I get you anything else?”

She shook her head.

Michael gazed at her a long moment.
“I’m sorry I tackled you, Nikki, but that tree branch could have killed you.”

Nikki stared in amazement.
The confident, haughty Michael de Roumare was gone, replaced by a compassionate, worried young man. In a few short seconds, he displayed more humanity than she had ever seen from him. She managed a smile and gripped his hand tightly. “I’m all right, Michael. Thank you.”

He nodded, his expression easing slightly.
Slowly, he stood, moving to the kitchen table where he lit the candles and lamps, placing them around the room.

The wind and rain increased, driving forcefully through the broken window.
“I’ll be right back,” he muttered and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Within moments a large piece of plywood from the stack on the porch appeared over the window and he nailed it in place.
Michael returned, placing the flashlight she had dropped on the table. “That should hold you. I’ll come back tomorrow and drag the limb away from the house. It will at least keep you in firewood for a couple of days.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile.

“No problem,” he replied and turned to leave.

“Michael, wait. The least I can do is offer you some dinner after you helped me so much.”

He frowned at her.
“Helped? I scared you to death and nearly got you killed by a tree limb.” His expression slowly changed to self-mocking.

Nikki rolled her eyes.
“You chased away some idiot who probably thought the house was still vacant and kept me from getting crushed. I’m fine, Michael, and I would like you to stay for dinner.”

He stood there for a moment as if trying to decide.
“I...I really shouldn’t be here,” he said so softly she wondered if she heard him correctly.

“I’ve made a huge pot of chili, guaranteed to keep you warm during infernally cold storms.”

His amber eyes locked on hers, but he said nothing, still warring with himself.

“My grandmother’s recipe,” she said tauntingly.

Slowly, his expression melted into a lopsided smile. “It smells wonderful.”

“Then have a seat, sir.”

Michael gave her a curt nod and removed his jacket, sitting at the table.

Dinner was actually a quiet affair and Nikki desperately tried to think of something to say - but her thoughts abandoned her.
In the soft light of candles and lamps, the room seemed to take a romantic tone. Nikki wished the power would return. The ambiance was pleasant, but not with a stranger. Michael seemed to fill the room, a silent strength like the mountains around them.

She kept thinking of Emma’s warning and tried to push it from her mind.
Michael had helped her when he didn’t have to. Surely that meant he wasn’t all bad. But she could tell how people might think the worst of him. He was quiet and reserved, his size and strength would intimidate many. Instead of trying to discover the man under the layers of mystery, people would push him away and invent their own reasons as to why.

Michael helped himself to a second bowl.
“You’ve done a great job with this place,” he said softly.

Nikki blinked at the unexpected compliment.
“Thank you.”

“Those stairs must have been a bear.”

“They were.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t brought in a contractor.”

“I could have,” she said with the shrug. “I’m the owner of Matthews Construction.”

Michael’s eyebrows flew up his forehead.

She smiled. “But I like doing it myself. It keeps me busy.”

Silence descended again and she gathered her courage.
“Michael, I don’t mean to pry, but what happened in town the other day?”

His expression turned flat and she bit her lip.
He took a deep breath. “The...sheriff just wanted to ask me some questions.” He shrugged. “Nothing important.”

“But those idiots in the café...what they called you...I would have thought the twenty-first century would
change some of that.”

“I am half Arapaho, half French
, but that is not the reason why they taunt me. There are many here of mixed blood. They are just....” He paused as if searching for the words. “Afraid of me.”

Nikki nodded and couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Emma said that’s why Taylor hired Sanders.”

Surprisingly, Michael flashed her his lopsided grin. “She said that?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled and returned to his meal, apparently finding the whole thing amusing.

Nikki again struggled to think of a conversation.
The man certainly didn’t make it easy. “Half French? I guess that makes your name
Michel
instead of Michael.”

He blinked at her, startled.
“I...haven’t been called Michel in years. It is my birth name.”

“Michel de Roumare,”
she said with French inflection. “I like that name. Do you speak French?”

He nodded.
“My father made sure I was fluent in it.”

“Do you speak Arapaho as well?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I remember the other night when you spoke to the wolf.”

Abruptly, Michael’s jaw tightened.

Nikki swallowed, interrupted by the sound of dripping water as it hit the table.
“Geez,” she muttered and tossed her napkin down. “I thought I fixed that leak.” Quickly, she pulled out a bucket from under the sink and put it in the middle of the kitchen table. The constant thwap, thwap, of the water drove her nuts, but she fought to ignore it. “This place seems to sprout new ones every time I turn around.”

Three more leaks started in the living room.
She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

Michael remained silent for a long time.
Gently, he gripped her shoulder. “Perhaps you could use some help.”

Nikki sighed and moved to the cupboards, pulling out three large pots.
Michael picked them up and she added two more. “Might as well be ready for the two upstairs,” she muttered.

Michael placed the pans to catch the water and Nikki moved to the couch.
Her exhaustion caught up with her and she was certain she would doze off where she sat.

“I was thinking,” Michael said
as he sat next to her.

Nikki jumped at his nearness
, but did not have the energy to move away. “About what?”

“You’re going to have a hell of a time finding a contractor to fix the roof this time of year - I don’t care how many construction companies you own.”

“I know. It needs a new one. I didn’t want to start a project like that with winter here.”

“You’re not going to have a choice.
You’ll have a mess when the snow melts. After I move the tree limb tomorrow, we’ll see about fixing the roof.”

“Fixing the roof?
You mean you and me?”

He nodded.
“I think, between the two of us, we can have it repaired before the next storm.”

She stared at him a moment.
His amber eyes glittered. For an instant, the vibrant energy within him overwhelmed her. Michael was the perfect picture of strength and health. Nikki longed to inch closer and absorb it into her skin - he was everything she was not.

“Are you sure, Michael?
It’s going to be a lot of work.”

“I don’t mind in the least.
I’ll come by in the morning.” He stood and pulled on his jacket. “Thank you for dinner. It was great.”

“You’re welcome.
Thanks for the help.” She paused and frowned as wind blasted against the cabin. “Are you sure you want to leave now? That storm is bad. I’ve got an extra sleeping bag if you don’t mind crashing on the floor.” Nikki abruptly bit her lip as Emma’s warning sounded in her head. What was she doing inviting him to stay overnight? He would definitely get the wrong idea.
Although,
a wicked little voice within her prompted,
a tumble with him might be a lot of fun.
She shook herself. Good Lord, she was exhausted if she was thinking like that.

But Michael only gave her a lopsided grin.
“Don’t worry, Nikki. I’ll be fine. Good night.”

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