Raising The Stakes (Heartwarming Romance) (14 page)

Her lashes fanned her cheeks and he waited as she seemed to struggle for the right words.

“My mother was only ever interested in one thing. Her happiness. Didn’t matter if I’d gotten used to my new stepfamily, school, made friends, had a pet. If she wanted out of her marriage or relationship, off we’d go, sometimes in the dead of night. No goodbyes. No taking things that we couldn’t fit in one suitcase.”

Understanding dawned. “Even pets?”

“I never got to keep one longer than a year.” She sighed, a soft, yearning sound.

Suddenly her fierce attachment to Button made sense. She’d been forced to give up animals all her life. Letting go of the bear wouldn’t be easy.

“That must have been difficult.”

“I used to dream about someday putting down roots. A place that no one could make me leave. After the attack, I wanted that place even more. Somewhere I’d always feel safe.”

“And then the fire.”

Another sigh.

“Yeah.”

He put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. His breath stopped as he waited for her to move away. Instead she stayed, and pleasure, sharp and sweet, filled him. In the distance, lanterns glowed and bobbed in the woods as campers made their way to their tents, calling their good-nights. Soon, all was quiet again and it felt as though he and Vivie were alone in the vast wilderness, finding their way in the darkness, to each other.

“Houses are temporary. Families—loved ones—they’re what counts.”

He felt her nod. His thumb circled the soft flesh of her palm and she shivered against him. Was she as aware of him as he was of her? Or could she be frightened, not wanting such intimate contact? Impossible to know, but she hadn’t pulled away...yet.

“After the attack, I moved here because I thought terrible things probably didn’t happen in places this remote. My house, the diner, they were where I felt secure.”

“A building doesn’t make you safe.” At his harsh tone, she lifted her head and studied him.

“Are we still talking about me? Because it doesn’t sound that way.”

His chest expanded, the old dread seizing him as his memory skimmed back ten years.

“I lost fifteen of my battle buddies when under siege in Kunar.”

She clutched his other hand, her eyes wide. “Liam. That’s awful. I didn’t know.”

He tightened his fingers around hers and shook his head. “I don’t talk about it.”

Her nose scrunched. “Ever?”

“Not until now.”

“Why are you telling me now?”

He had a lot of reasons, but the deepest truth of all escaped him.

“Because I want you to know me.”

He saw her swallow hard, but her gaze didn’t waver.

“I want that, too,” she said at last, and his tense shoulders dropped. He wasn’t alone in his feelings. “Tell me.”

“We’d recently retaken a contentious area in Kunar. It’d been in insurgent hands for over six months. The location made it a prime spot for drug and weapons smuggling.”

A shudder passed through her and he drew her back to his side, slipping an arm around her waist. She stiffened, but didn’t move away. “Sounds dangerous.”

“I’d had assignments like that before. Hold an outpost. Defend it. Keep back insurgents... Nothing about this seemed out of the ordinary.”

“Yeah, spending every day with a gun in your hand, waiting for the next ambush, that sounds fairly humdrum to me,” she exclaimed.

He wondered if she thought of her own attack and tightened his grip around her waist. Didn’t want her getting spooked.

“Out of context, I guess that doesn’t seem normal, but it was war. That was how we lived...and died.”

“What happened to your friends?”

His pulse pounded in his ears, louder than the humming crickets. “About a week in, we started taking sniper fire. Recon pairs went out but never returned. Other groups went out after the missing and vanished, too. That’s when we knew we were in trouble.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“Yeah. We were all scared. Any combat soldier who tells you he wasn’t is either lying or a fool.”

She touched the side of his face and the caring gesture nearly undid him. “You’re neither of those.”

“I’m a lot of things, but no, not that. Later that day the return fire increased. Our commander, not long out of officer training, with little combat experience, told us to keep our positions. Hold the post. He refused to call for help. Thought we had the man power to do it.”

“Didn’t he request, I don’t know, eyes in-the sky or something? That’s what the traffic reporters call it.”

“We thought he did. He gave the orders and we had no choice but to obey, even when he sent out more recon missions.”

“Your friends.”

“They disappeared. Presumed dead.” His voice was gravel, sharp stones that slashed as he spat them out. “And then the snipers got more accurate as they closed in. Started picking us off when we patrolled the outpost walls.”

“Did you see someone die?” Her fingers slid along the scar on her neck and he hated that he brought back her own trauma. Should he stop?

“Did you?” she repeated, louder now.

“Three of my bunk mates. One died next to me. Could have been my head that got blown off. A few inches. That’s all the difference there was between life or death.”

“He must have been more exposed.”

“No. I was. I’d dropped my goggles and Jim leaned down to get them. When he straightened...” His voice trailed off, the impact of that memory exploding in his mind. He’d had his eye on the horizon. Should have spotted the sniper that got his friend.

“That doesn’t make sense. You were the clearer target.”

He cupped her lovely face. “Bad things happen. There is no logic to it.”

Her mouth worked, her features contorting. “How can you live like that? Not believing that you have control? Or even that another force is guiding all of this?”

“Like the one that allowed those men to attack you? Or burned your house?”

Her eyes shimmered. “Maybe I did something wrong. Deserved it.”

“Jim and his wife fostered children with AIDS. You think he deserved it?”

Her head drooped. “No,” she whispered at last.

“And neither did you. But that shouldn’t make you shut yourself away. Hide. What good is life if you’re too afraid to live it?” He put a finger beneath her chin and raised it until their eyes met. “In the military, we call a near-death experience our Alive Day. Some even celebrate it...remembering to be grateful that we survived.”

“I like that,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “My Alive Day is October 15.”

“Mine is December 31.”

Her brows met. “You almost didn’t live out the year. How did you escape?”

“We were overrun. A few of us managed to get out. Hid in American-friendly towns until special ops picked us up. But those couple of weeks trapped in that outpost, nowhere to go, waiting to die, were the lowest point for me.”

“Is that why you became a conservation officer?”

“Huh?”

She smoothed her hand along his jaw then slid it to the back of his neck. He tensed, wanting to feel her sweet lips on his. The comfort and pleasure he knew he could find in her kiss.

“Because you could be outside, not trapped in a building like the outpost in Kunar? Do you even like your home?”

He pictured his empty fridge, the blank walls and bits of furniture he’d accumulated while he’d rented it.

“It’s a place to sleep.”

She nodded, a knowing look creeping into her eyes. “Then it’s not your home. Have you ever had one as an adult?”

“I usually move every two to three years.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. How could he describe the feeling that urged him to leave when he stayed still too long?

“You’re reliving the war,” she observed.

“What? No. That was a long time ago.”

“So was my attack and I’m beginning to see that maybe I’m not handling it as well as I thought, either.” Her eyes filled with surprise and wonder.

He struggled to follow her logic, unsure of where it led. Or if he wanted to pursue it. If she was right, he’d run from his outpost in Kunar and never stopped. It floored him.

“That part of my life is over,” he said, though he didn’t sound convincing, even to himself.

“How long have you been in the Adirondacks?” She swatted at a buzzing mosquito.

“Three years.”

“And are you going to leave?” Her voice cracked. Would she regret it if he did? Want him to stay?

He stared at her, reluctant to admit the truth. It’d only confirm her theory. “I’m moving to Yellowstone in September.”

“Right on time,” she murmured, her voice a notch above a whisper.

“It’s not like that,” he protested, but it was. It was exactly like that.

“I think I’ll turn in,” she said and stood.

He scrambled to his feet and grabbed her hand, unwilling to let her go. Not when he’d set out to solve her issues and had had his own thrown back at him.

“I wish you’d told me you were leaving.” She studied the stars, her voice as far away.

“I didn’t think you’d care,” he surprised himself by saying.

“Or didn’t want me to.”

He opened his mouth to deny it but couldn’t. She was right. He hadn’t wanted any attachments here, but Vivie had slipped by his guard and into his heart. His head in a whirl, he blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Will you go to a wedding with me?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“N
O
! L
ET
S
COOTER
have a turn!”

Liam stepped out of his SUV and inhaled the cool-edged morning air. Grinning, he bolted to the back of the faded red barn, eager to check out the action. He’d held back from visiting for a couple of days after their campout, needing time to get his head straight. Their late-night discussion had gone in directions he hadn’t been ready to take. Still wasn’t. But he couldn’t stay away from Vivie any longer. He missed her too much. Plus, she’d never given him her answer about the wedding.

Vivie’s laugh rang out, drawing him. How long since he’d heard it?

He stopped short at a wooden fence, taking in the sight of Vivie, Scooter, Jinx and, to his shock, Button, competing for possession of a soccer ball. Vivie’s hair flew in every direction, her delighted face stealing his breath. Her casual T-shirt and shorts, fresh-scrubbed features and graceful limbs added up to a beauty only nature could take credit for. Bathed in the strengthening sun, she seemed made of gold.

Button, larger than Scooter, muscled out the Labrador and butted the ball down the grassy field. Vivie flashed in from the side and kicked the ball out from under Button’s muzzle to Jinx who stopped grooming herself long enough to bat at the ball. She scampered away the minute two four-legged beasts descended on her.

This time, Scooter reached the ball first and nosed it farther down the field with a happy bark. But Button galloped after it, her black rump rising and falling as she grunted and knocked the ball into an overturned trough.

“Yes! Good job, Button!” Vivie grabbed a large dog biscuit out of a pouch around her waist and passed it to the grunting, stamping bear. Scooter plopped on his haunches and whined, earning him an ear scratch.

“I know you can’t hear me.” Vivie dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her dog. “But I love you. And you’ll get the next one. Look for my pass.”

Button muscled in on the hug and the three of them fell over, Vivie’s giggle infectious.

She sat up fast at Liam’s answering laugh.

“Liam! I never let Button out here on her own since it’s not secure, and these biscuits are okay for her digestive system. I checked with the vet.”

He held up a hand to stop her nervous babble. “Hey. I’m not here in a professional capacity.”

She stopped talking, and her white teeth caught her full bottom lip.

Behind her, the game resumed. Scooter nudged the ball out of the trough and shoved it up ahead, Button huffing hot on his heels.

“Looks like quite a matchup.” Liam unlatched the gate and eased inside, pausing a moment as the animals thundered by.

Her eyes followed the pair, a small smile appearing when Jinx cuffed Button as they passed her.

“They’re each holding their own.”

“It’s good exercise for Button,” Liam said, breathing in Vivie’s wildflower scent as he drew near. When he came this close to her, his heartbeat skidded fast and light, no traction.

She shoved her long hair out of her eyes. “For all of us. I haven’t seen Scooter this fired up in years. Button’s good for him.”

“One of the family?” He cocked an eyebrow, wanting her to deny it. Knowing she wouldn’t.

Her eyes met his squarely, the light brown color deepening. “I hope so. The vet said if her jaw hasn’t set properly by now, then it won’t.”

“That won’t stop her release unless it’s ruled debilitating,” he warned, not wanting her to get her hopes up. He’d seen her relationship with Button grow through the weeks, knew how difficult letting her go would be.

“We don’t have that ruling yet, do we?” Her chin rose and he met her challenging look.

“No,” he admitted, “But—”

Her shoulder bumped his. “You said this wasn’t an official visit. Can we not talk about this right now?”

Although one side of her mouth curled, the sheen in her eyes told him not to push it. She’d finally emerged from her depression after the fire and he wouldn’t give her more sad thoughts. Not today. Not when they could play soccer instead.

He took off after the bear and dog, calling over his shoulder, “Button’s on my team!”

She flew by him and swatted the ball he’d been about to kick. “Scooter’s an old hand at this. Looks like you’re going down.”

He twisted and blocked her next move, zipping the ball to Button who knocked it into the trough.

When he turned, he met her frown, the line between her brows and her irritated flush making her more adorable than ever. What he would give to pull her into his arms and kiss that pouting mouth.

She stomped over to Button and fed the bear another biscuit. Scooter barked madly and circled. “Don’t get used to that—it’ll be your last.”

He leaned against a post and crossed his arms. “I just want to know what I get when I win.”

Her small nose scrunched. “Not happening.”

Shoving off the fence, he stepped close enough to make her head tilt up. “You still haven’t given me an answer about the wedding. If I win, we’ll go together.”

The flash of panic on her face nearly made him take back his words. It’d be hard for her to return to the city. He hadn’t thought of that. But he’d keep her safe. Wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

He stumbled back in surprise when she shoved his chest and sprinted after the ball Scooter had liberated. “If I win, Button stays at least until spring.”

“Can’t promise that.” He dodged the bear who seemed more intent on tripping him than helping. Not much of a teammate...

“You’re with the DEC,” she huffed as their feet tangled, fighting for ball possession. “Fill out some paperwork. What’s another few months to make sure she’s gotten through the winter and can fend for herself in better weather?”

He took control of the ball and snaked down the field, hearing her right behind him. She wasn’t being completely unreasonable, but the longer she kept Button, the harder it’d be to let go.

“I can’t make any promises,” he repeated, groaning when Scooter descended on his feet and knocked the ball away. Button looped after him but was too late. The dog shoved the ball into the trough and turned with an excited bark.

“Good boy!” Vivie waved her hands and waggled her fingers, the gesture revving up Scooter even more. She tossed him a dog biscuit and he backed away from an advancing Button.

The bear parted its mouth and a muffled growl emerged.

Vivie bent at the waist, holding her sides and breathing deep. “You see? How can her injury not be debilitating? She can’t properly open her mouth, or growl. What if she needs to defend herself against other bears?”

He held in a sigh. Exasperating woman. “Thought you didn’t want to talk about this.”

“Now I do. It’s about a bet.”

He considered her for a long moment, then shrugged. “Look. If the vet says she’s unsafe in the wild, I’ll do what I can to help.”

“What if I say she’s not safe?” Vivie planted her feet wide apart, her mouth set in a firm line. “I’m her caregiver. I know best.”

The tip of his sneakers touched hers and she blinked up at him. “You’ve done a wonderful job with her, Vivie. But there’s still a ways to go before those decisions are made. We can spend the next six weeks going over it or enjoy this time. How about we get on with our bet?”

A playful smile appeared on her lovely face, twisting his heart. “You mean the one you’re about to lose?”

She broke away and chased after Scooter and Button, calling over her shoulder, “Game on!”

* * *

C
AR
EXHAUST
. H
ONEY
-
COATED
roasted nuts. Day-old trash.

Vivie covered her nose and mouth, trying not to breathe much of the city air. Attempted to shut it out. Everything. Especially the memories that crept from dark corners and seized her.

She glanced at the cabbie’s open window as they crawled along the packed avenue. The murmur of rushing crowds and impatient traffic closed around her and she slid lower in her seat. There was no blocking out a place as insistently alive as New York City. It pulsed with menace, electric with dangerous possibilities. If only she hadn’t lost that bet to Liam. Her eyes drifted to his handsome profile. She wanted to spend time with him...just not in Manhattan.

She pulled out her cell and glanced at the text from her support-group leader.

You can do this, Vivie. Face your fear. Stop by the meeting tonight if you have time.

She slipped the phone away, wishing the words would erase the foreboding that twisted through her gut.

Liam reached for her. “Feeling okay? Your fingers are like ice.”

She nodded, a quick short jerk of the chin that made his eyes narrow. His thumb stroked the backs of her knuckles. “We can leave. Grab the next train home if this is too much.”

“You can’t miss your sister’s wedding.” When she glanced out the window, an alley between two buildings caught her eye. Suddenly she felt as if she were being dragged inside. A wave of helpless terror shuddered through her.

Liam’s arm slid around her shoulders and he pulled her near. “You’re not okay. I shouldn’t have asked you to come. Made that bet.” When he leaned forward to rap on the plastic partition, she pulled his hand back.

“No,” she whispered. “This is good for me.”
You’re good for me
, she corrected silently.

Liam stroked the side of her face and she rested her cheek against his palm. She’d come a long way from the woman who’d panicked at his touch. Now she relished it. Wished he’d do it more, although that would only complicate their tenuous relationship. They’d begun as strangers, turned into enemies, worked their way to friendship and now this...a no-man’s-land of romantic entanglements as snared as barbed wire.

Hearing about his narrow escape in Kunar, how she might never have met him, drove home how much she cared. Crazy that she’d finally opened up and fallen for a man who’d never be content to have a home, put down roots. He’d leave in a month and once again she’d lose someone she cared about. Her life on replay.

His lips moved against her temple. “My family can be a lot. Just to warn you.”

“Growing up, I met all kinds of families.”

“Do you ever keep in touch with any of them?”

She thought back to a particular stepsister, one who’d shared her music and an impressive flip-flop collection. “No. We usually left too fast and not on the best terms.”

Regret tugged at her. If she’d stayed in contact, despite her mother’s wishes, she might have had a family to call after the attack. At least she’d had friends who’d let her stay with them when she’d been too afraid to sleep at home. Then she’d found her support group and, eventually, Maggie.

She glanced at the tall man beside her, his shoulder above hers, level and solid. And now there was Liam...

Since their Mount Marcy trip, she’d mulled over his observations and realized that he was right. Just like the fire, bad could find her, wherever she hid. So why lock herself away? It’d been good to get out again and resume their hikes with Button. And the occasional soccer game.

“I hope Steve doesn’t mind searching out skunk cabbage every day.”

Liam’s mouth curved. “I think Button’s gotten addicted. Lately that’s all she eats. That and corn.”

“Catkins, too.” The cab jerked to another halt and her purse fell to her feet. “She’ll plow right by them for skunk cabbage, though.” Vivie grabbed a lipstick before it rolled under the front seat. “I wish she wouldn’t forage so far.”

“It’s her nature.” His eyes lingered on her mouth as she freshened her makeup.

She rubbed her lips together, feeling warm under his scrutiny. “At least she always finds us again. I’m getting used to it.”

“Good. You can’t manage everything. Control her all the time.”

She nodded, pleased that she could let go that much. It felt like progress. Lately, she’d begun questioning how much of her life was in her control...even the night she was raped.

She’d always berated herself for not splurging on a cab ride home at that late hour...for taking the dark shortcut, for staying past her shift to learn a new sauce recipe. Any of those choices could have changed the course of her life and she’d hated herself for not making even one of them.

She squeezed Liam’s hand and felt his fingers tighten around hers. Had she taken any of those paths, however, she wouldn’t have moved to the Adirondacks and met Liam...

Did she have any right to intervene and stop his move to Yellowstone? Convince him to stay with her and Button?

She dropped the impossible thought. Liam’s past drove him, even if he didn’t see it. If she changed his mind, he’d eventually see her as his jailer—he’d feel imprisoned by her need to put down roots.

They turned down a cobblestone street filled with quaint, three-and four-story brick buildings.

“There it is!” Liam leaned forward and pointed at a black oval sign with bronze-carved letters spelling out The White Horse Tavern.

The cab swerved to the side. Liam quickly paid the driver before ushering Vivie out of the cab and through the massive oak door.

“What’s a guy need to do to get some service around here?” he hollered, his voice lighter, less serious than she’d ever heard it.

She glanced around the large, homey room, taking in the black-and-white pictures adorning the walls, the scuffed floor in front of a dartboard, a wrought-iron chandelier tipped with carved horse heads and a brass-trimmed bar that ran along one half of the room. A Bob Dylan tune played in the background, the folksy song fitting this informal space perfectly.

A man with thick, wavy dark hair and green eyes emerged from behind the bar, a keg firmly in his grip. When he lowered it, he caught sight of Liam and strode toward them.

“Liam! How are you?”

The men clapped each other on the back in a one-armed bro hug and stepped apart, grinning.

“Great. This is my—” Liam’s eyes slid toward her, a question in them.

She extended a hand. “I’m Vivienne Harris, Liam’s friend. Please call me Vivie. And you must be one of the infamous Walsh brothers.”