That Wintry Feeling (Debbie Macomber Classics) (7 page)

“Or a reasonable facsimile,” Grady added with a chuckle.

“I thought bears would be hibernating by this time. It’s mid-October,” Cathy whispered, as if she were afraid the sound of her voice would frighten the creature away. “And speaking of bears, you don’t expect me to share my lunch with that fellow, do you?”

Grady’s responding laugh was filled with humor. “One question at a time, sweet Dorothy from Kansas.”

“The name’s Cathy,” she reminded him in a chilly tone. The last thing she wanted to be
thought of as was a sweet sixteen-year-old desperately seeking a way back home. Her home was Alaska now. The sooner she and everyone around her accepted the fact, the easier it would be.

“Okay, Cathy.” Her name was issued softly. “Bears hibernate in the winter, not autumn. The one we saw today is fattening herself up for the months ahead. Second, we don’t picnic outside. That would be inviting the attention of our fur-covered friends, and I for one am opposed to sharing my lunch.”

“I for two,” Angela added.

“Fine, but if we don’t eat out-of-doors, just where do we picnic?”

“In the car,” Angela said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Unable to resist, Cathy smiled. “Of course.”

As promised, Grady provided the lunch an hour later. The fried chicken, biscuits, small dish of coleslaw, and ice-cold pop couldn’t have tasted better. It was all so simple that Cathy marveled that her family hadn’t done something like this themselves. Picnics were always a formal affair for which her mother spent whole days preparing.

Wiping their fingers with the pre-moistened towelettes enclosed with the chicken, Cathy paused, feeling Grady’s gaze, her fingers clenching and unclenching as her eggshell composure began to feel the strain of his appraisal.

“You like Alaska, don’t you?”

“Surprisingly, yes. I wasn’t prepared for the beauty or vastness. I don’t know that anyone really is. From Kansas it sounded like the ends of the earth, which it is, in a manner of speaking.”

“Why’d you come?”

She’d been expecting the question for some time. Giving the impression it was of no importance, she shrugged. “It’s a job. If you hadn’t noticed, there aren’t many of those around these days.”

“I have.” Grady’s tone was faintly dry.

“Anyway, the position was offered, and I jumped at the chance.”

“We’ll see how much you love it after the first winter.”

“I’ll make it.”

“I’m sure you will.” One dark eyebrow flicked upward. “You, my sweet Cathy, are a survivor.”

“That I am,” she murmured stiffly, suddenly uneasy with the way the conversation was
headed. “And what about you? Are you an implant like me?”

“Nope, born and raised here all my life. Tried going to school in the lower forty-eight, but I hated it and came back to where the air is clean and land unspoiled.”

“I was born in Fairbanks,” Angela added, apparently feeling left out of the conversation.

“At midnight on the coldest night of the year,” Grady added. The creases along the sides of his mouth deepened into a familiar smile. “I darn near brought that girl into the world myself.”

“I don’t suppose her mother should be given any credit?” The words were issued in a teasing undertone.

“As a matter of fact,” Grady said, low and cynically, for her alone, “Pam handled her part as best she could.” He straightened and turned the ignition key. The engine purred to life as he checked the rearview mirror. “I think it’s time for us to head back if we’re going to arrive before dark. Anyone for singing?”

Pulling onto the road, they’d advanced only a few feet when Cathy heard a bang and hissing sound. “What was that?”

She witnessed Grady’s eyes close in frustration before he turned toward her, presenting a calm façade. “That, my two helpless females, is a flat tire.”

“Would you care to give me a hand?” Grady asked, as he released the jack, lowering the car to the ground.

“Sure, anything,” Cathy said, and breathed in relief. “What do you need me to do?”

Wiping his greasy hands with his white handkerchief, Grady glanced upward, a roguish glint to the deep blue eyes. “I was hoping you’d applaud.”

Both Cathy and Angela were clapping wildly and laughing when the creases around his mouth suddenly hardened and a wary light was reflected in his gaze.

“Get inside the car.” The order was given with a frightening undertone.

Without question, Cathy helped Angela into the backseat and securely shut the door before jerking open her own. A second later, Grady joined her in the front seat.

“What’s the matter?” Cathy whispered, her heart hammering at the coiled alertness she felt coming from Grady.

“There’s a brown bear about thirty yards ahead, moving toward us. I think the time has come for us to make our exit.”

“Peterkins!” Cathy looked around her frantically. Her hand flew to the door handle. “We can’t leave without Peterkins.” Her voice was high-pitched and filled with anxiety.

Grady stopped her before she could open the door. “It would be crazy to go out there now. You’d only be attracting trouble.”

“I don’t care,” she insisted, jerking herself free.

The harsh grip of his hand bit into her shoulder. “No,” he said, and shoved her against the seat. “If anyone gets him, it’ll be me.”

Angela began whimpering, the sound of her cries muffled as she covered her face with both hands. “I don’t want a bear to eat Peterkins,” she wailed.

“Grady, please,” Cathy pleaded, lifting her gaze to his. “He won’t come to you. It’s got to be me.”

Indecision flickered over the hard face. “Okay.” He gradually released his hold on her. “I’ll distract the bear, and you get that damn dog of yours into the car. And for heaven’s sake be
quick about it.”

Grady climbed out first, after instructing Angela not to leave the car for any reason. Cathy took in several deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. The wild beast would sense her fear, and she struggled to breathe evenly and appear calm.

The bear was advancing toward the vehicle, standing on its hind legs, looming twelve or fourteen feet above them. Nothing had ever looked so large or so terrifying.

To her horror, Cathy saw that Peterkins was running toward the animal, barking for all his worth.

Grady moved around to the front of the car, hands dangling at his sides. It took Cathy several moments to realize he was speaking in soothing, low tones, moving slowly toward the huge mammal.

Her heart in her throat, Cathy cupped her mouth with both hands and called her dog.

Peterkins hesitated, stopping to turn around, and glanced at her.

The bear was so close Cathy thought she could smell him, then realized it was the taste of fear that was magnifying her senses. Grady was far closer to the bear than she was. Her own fear was quickly forgotten as she realized the danger Grady was placing himself in for the sake of her dog. She wanted to cry out for Grady to move back. Instead, she concentrated on gaining Peterkins’s attention.

Frantically, she called the spaniel, her voice sharp and demanding. This time Peterkins didn’t pause, turning around abruptly and running as fast as his short legs would carry him. She squatted down so that he could leap into her arms. Moving as quickly as possible, she hurried back to the relative safety of the car.

Cathy was inside and breathing so hard she was panting. Still, Grady remained outside, slowly retreating until he backed into the front bumper of the car. As if he was in no more danger than he would be attending a Sunday school picnic, he turned and climbed into the front seat, starting the engine and pulling onto the road.

Cathy looked back to note that the bear had turned and reentered the woods. It had probably been the smell of their picnic that had attracted his attention.

Relief washed over her, and for a moment Cathy had to struggle to hold back the tears. “Bad dog.” She enunciated each word, her manner and voice stern. “How can you have been so naughty?”

Apparently, Peterkins knew he had done wrong. Dejectedly, he hung his head, and the long ears drooped forward.

“You okay?” Grady asked as an aloof mask came over him.

“I’m fine.” She studied him for a minute. The dark bushy brows, the unrelenting set of jaw; his profile appeared almost hawklike. The eyes were a clear shade of deep blue, but sharp and intelligent. The dark hair, although trimmed short, was curly and framed his forehead.

“You sure? You look awfully pale for someone safe and secure.” His look flickered over her.

The responding smile was weak. “I’m sure.” She lowered her gaze. She liked Grady. That was the problem. If anything had happened to him, she would have felt more than guilt or remorse. The realization was so new she hadn’t had time to properly analyze exactly what she was feeling.

“How could you act so calm?” she queried. “Anything could have happened.”

“Calm?” he snorted. “Listen, I’ve been ten thousand feet in the air, lost both engines, and felt less nervous than facing that bear.”

Laughter sighed through her as she tipped her head back to rest against the seat. “I don’t think I’ve been more frightened in my life,” she admitted.

“Can Peterkins come and sit with me now?” Angela asked, the small voice barely audible.

“Sure.” Cathy helped move the dog from the front to the back, then scooted across the cushioned seat to sit closer to Grady. She stopped when their shoulders touched.

His glance was filled with surprise. “To what do I owe this honor?”

Cathy couldn’t answer him. She didn’t know why she felt the need to be near him. It had been an unconscious movement made without reason. “I’m cold.” The excuse was a feeble one, but Grady seemed to accept it, looping an arm over her shoulder and bringing her within the comfort of his embrace.

“Warmer?” he asked a few minutes later.

Cathy nodded.

“Daddy, can I be a Girl Scout?” Angela’s head appeared between Grady’s and Cathy’s.

“Why the sudden interest in Girl Scouts?” Grady questioned, his gaze not leaving the road.

“Melissa Sue’s gonna be one, and I thought I should do it, too.”

“I think she means Brownie,” Cathy inserted. “The school handed out information sheets last week.”

“I want to roast marshmallows and eat somemores and sing songs around a fire.”

“That’s the picture on the front of the information sheet,” Cathy explained.

“There were some marshmallows in your cupboard, weren’t there, Cathy?”

Grady’s gaze had scanned the contents of her kitchen that morning while she was dressing. “Yes, I think there are.”

“Fine. When we get back, Cathy can invite us inside, and while I build a fire in her fireplace, you two ladies can cook some hot cocoa and find something to roast marshmallows.”

“Goodie.” Angela bounded against the backseat, and Cathy could hear her telling Peterkins all about the wonderful time they were going to have.

“Now, that was sneaky,” Cathy murmured, resting her head against the curve of his shoulder.

“No, just quick thinking,” he murmured. His eyes glanced toward her mouth, and the look was so suggestive that Cathy had the desire to blush and look away. The last streaks of light were fading from the darkening sky when they rolled past the Fairbanks city limits.

“I’ll drop you two off at the house.”

“Three,” Angela corrected. “Don’t forget Peterkins.”

Grady chuckled. “After this afternoon, it’s not likely.”

“Where are you going?” Cathy asked.

“I’ve got some paperwork to catch up with. It’ll only be an hour or so. You don’t mind, do you?”

For a second she wanted to complain and tell him that yes, she did mind. This was the way it had always been with her own father. Not a single day of his life was he able to sever himself from job-related obligations. Memories of Christmas Day were filled with presents and laughter and arranging the big meal around the time her father would return from the office. Cathy should have realized that a whole day was more than Grady could give her, Angela, or anyone else in his life.

“No, I don’t mind,” she lied. “It’ll give Angela and me time to unwind.” Barely concealed resentment caused her voice to tremble slightly.

Grady gave her a puzzled look. “If it’s going to bother you, say so and I won’t go.”

The temptation was to take him up on the offer and see just how long he would be able to endure the torture of staying away from his business. Mentally, Cathy gave herself a shake. She was being unreasonable, allowing the childhood memories of an overly work-obsessed father to cloud her perception now.

“No, it’s fine, really. Angela and I will have a good time, won’t we?” She directed her question to the little girl.

“If I take a bath at your house, can Peterkins come in the tub with me?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Grady insisted.

Playfully digging the point of her elbow into his stomach, Cathy laughed. “You’re a great help, fella. Any more suggestions and Angela and I will come to the office to help you with the paperwork.”

Grady parked the car in front of Cathy’s house. She half expected him to drop them off and drive away. But he came inside and brought in firewood, stacking it by the fireplace. As he was working, Cathy brewed coffee.

Grady accepted a cup, blowing into the steaming liquid before taking the first sip. His legs were crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

Physically, she was growing more aware of his presence every minute. Something was definitely the matter with her. Only last week she had rated his kiss as interesting. Now she longed for the taste of his mouth over hers. Not because she was falling in love with him, but to compare her reaction one week from the next.

Finishing her coffee, Cathy placed the mug in the kitchen sink. As she moved away from the counter, he placed his hand along the slope of her neck, stopping her. Cathy quit breathing. When his mouth settled over her parted lips, she slipped her arms around his neck. His hand at the small of her back arched her closer.

Passively, she accepted the kiss, neither giving nor taking. If she had stopped to analyze her feelings, she would have realized Grady’s kiss had gone from interesting to pleasant. Decidedly pleasant. But it lacked the spark, the urgency, the emotion she’d once shared with Steve.