Heart of the Wild Page 6

  "Are you through reading me the riot act?" There was no humor left in his face. She couldn't have been more effective if she had slapped him.

  His voice cut through her, searing her skin like a hot-edged knife, his face registering an emotion she wasn't sure about. "I'd every intention of respecting you without the reminder. No one's more aware of who you are, than I. I'm doing my best to be civil with you, but you aren't making it easy."

  She shrugged.

  "Look, we're snowbound. Your father will be here shortly, and then you can be on your way again. So let's stop cutting each other down, and concentrate on surviving. I'm sorry I've been a part of this whole thing."

  For just a moment, she felt a spark of sympathy for him. Perhaps he was only a victim of her father's manipulations? But that didn't change anything. He was weak where her father was concerned, and she didn't like or respect weakness in a man. She was still here. Besides, she was too tired to spend the night warring with this insulting man. "I'm sorry I'm a part of it, too."

  A long silence fell between them, then he glanced at her again, his eyes traveling slowly over her, so slowly that she reddened. She felt stripped.

  "Then we understand one another. And you will see your father. Although I can't fathom your bitterness toward him."

  "My relationship with my father is none of your business. And I don't consider myself bitter, just indifferent. He's got to learn he can't lead my life for me. He's been trying for much too long, and I simply won't stand for it anymore. I've worked hard to be my own person, and had gained a certain amount of independence from both of them. I'm not about to let my father dictate to me now."

  "I suppose eight years is a long time. Lack of communication can ruin any relationship. But the way he feels about you ..."

  "He has an odd way of showing those feelings. I haven't had so much as had a card from him since the day I walked out on y--" she burst out, unable to stop the flow of emotions erupting within her. Why did he have to pry into her private life again? She felt exposed and raw, emotions repressed for years stabbing at her heart. "Besides, how would you know how he feels about me? He wanted a son. He got daughter."

  His eyes found hers and locked. "I know John. Deep down, he only wants what's best for you. Maybe he did want a son, most men do. I only know he's scared for you. I suppose he comes off a little strong and overprotective. But his intentions are the best."

  "Scared for me? What does that mean?"

  "I'll let him explain."

  While she contemplated his words, he stepped outside.

  Kasie glanced about the cabin, squaring herself for her new fate. Quickly she went to the sink, pumped some water, and washed, then slipped into the big flannel shirt. Being in Amory's shirt made her shiver. It felt as if his arms were around her now, holding her, protecting her. Foolish girl, she opened her eyes.

  When Amory returned, she faced him as he rolled up her sleeves, and stared down into her startled face. He was doing it again, treating her like a child. She wanted to push him away, slap his face, and make him realize she was no child. Not any longer.

  But his nearness affected her more than he could know, and she practically held her breath until he backed away. It was the way he looked at her, like a man starved. "Why didn't dad just come to California himself, if his intentions were well meant? We could have talked about it, and it would be over with. Now he's ruined everything. I can't help but be bitter about that."

  "It would have been better, and faster, I agree, but you know your father. He does things his own way. Arranges things."

  "But Mother went to so much trouble over the wedding, now it's ruined. Just when things were smoothing out in my life, he has to come along and stir up trouble for me. Well, I won't have it. He's not ruining this for me. He's not running my life anymore."

  "What kind of trouble is he stirring up?" he asked, and moved away from her abruptly.

  "Mother, Rick, and my career, my life."

  Amory stared at her again, as though reconsidering things. "Your mother will be mad, no doubt. This Rick character might be a little put out. But if he really cares--. And your career might be on the shaky side. So--maybe you have a little leverage now to work with, to make him see the light."

  "Father has never seen the light."

  "Look, I tried to talk him out of this, but he wouldn't have it. So if you really want independence, you're going to have to do battle with him. You know that."

  "Yes, but how many times?"

  "Until you win."

  She shrugged and walked about slowly. "So, how long have you had this place?" she asked, going to the big chair in front of the fire as she changed the subject.

  "About two years. I built it right after the big fire. I'd planned on finishing it this summer," he added, not looking at her.

  "It's beautiful," she said, with a sigh of resignation, her eyelids becoming heavy as she stared into the flames of the fire.

  "If you're not going to eat, you better turn in, and get some sleep."

  "Fine, I'll just curl up here."

  "No. You'll take the bed," he instructed, turning down the covers.

  "I'd rather not. Thank you," she snapped, curling her feet under her, and relaxing into the confines of the lounger. The intimacy of sleeping in his bed sent a warm flush through her.

  "Don't be difficult," he said, as his voice softened. Bending down and scooping her up in his arms again, his eyes burned into her. For a long drugging moment, time stood still. His head bent just a little, and she felt her body wanting to go to his.

  Then suddenly he tossed her onto the bed. He glared down at her, as though he had second thoughts about his own actions.

  "Get some sleep!" He stomped out the door again.

  What was wrong with him, she wondered? Just when they seemed to be reaching an understanding, he got hostile again. Why?

  She sighed heavily as she sank into the comfort of the bed. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to think any longer. The war was over for today; she'd start fresh again, tomorrow!

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  * * *

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, Kasie stole a biscuit from the counter. She had poured herself a cup of coffee, and was sipping it, when something loud thudded at the door.

  Skeptical, Kasie slowly opened the door.

  "Good morning. Thought you might like to see where most of the food is kept," Amory said, as he pulled Kasie by the hand to lead her outside and into the lean-to.

  The touch of his hand sent currents of awareness through Kasie, but she hid it well. She had to face this attraction, and get rid of it, once and for all. But that wasn't going to be easy.

  In his other hand, two rabbits and one wild turkey dangled, she noticed with sad regret. Was she the reason for their demise?

  "The rabbits make a mean stew, and I'm sure you'll know what to do with the turkey. I thought we might have it when your father arrives. He loves turkey."

  He didn't let go of her hand until he had laid the game on the table. Kasie noticed, but he seemed oblivious to his actions.

  Kasie nodded numbly, her face turning ashen white as big tears pelted her cheeks.

  "What in the ..." he thundered. He took a clean bandana from his back jeans pocket and handed it to her.

  Blowing her nose loudly, she turned away from his intense gaze.

  "Sorry. I hate women who cry. Really." Her face flushed." It's just that all this seems so cruel. I mean, to kill such sweet harmless little creatures. I guess it brings back the memory of my own pet rabbit."

  He laid the butcher knife in the sink, then gently tipped her chin back with his elbow so he could look into her face. His expression seemed serious, almost thoughtful.

  "Hey, look, this isn't murder, you know. It's just self-preservation. I don't kill for sport. You don't see me hanging trophies in my lodge."

  "What about the bear rug, then?"

  He sighed aloud. "The bear rug was given
to me by an old trapper. He's lived in the mountains most his life, and he makes use of all of his skins, although I doubt he bears any trophies, either. He just lives quite primitively. I haven't gotten rid of it, because it was a gift."

  She nodded.

  "You'll find no heads in here. This is for food. So, what happened to your rabbit?"

  She sniffled, her memory jarring. "Another kid let it loose, and it was hit by a car in front of our house. It was a long time ago, before I came here, while my parents were still together. When we actually had a home. I haven't thought about it in years."

  "You must have been pretty young then."

  "About six. Anyway, I found it minutes later, and I buried him in the back yard. Mother insisted I dig him up and take him to a pet cemetery, but I never did. I wanted him close to me. I guess that sounds a little silly."

  Amory grinned, an Amory kind of grin. Her toes tickled. She stomped one foot.

  "No," his voice went husky almost in a whisper, his eyes glued to her amusing action, "it doesn't sound silly at all. At least, not to me. It sounds very humane."

  She blushed from his intense gaze, as their eyes met.

  "I almost forgot what a animal lover you were. One of the few things we have in common."

  He looked away, a muscle in his jaw working overtime. "My closest pet was a dog, a husky."

  "What happened to him?"

  Why hadn't she known all this about him? Had she been so blindly infatuated with him that she barely knew him at all?

  "There was a logging accident. A good friend of mine got buried by a tree; the dog rushed in to save him, and got hit by another big limb falling away. It happened several years back."

  "How awful."

  "Yeah." His eyes held hers again, and this time she felt something pull on her heartstrings. Something real, something shared. They were sharing old hurts, and it felt so natural, so good. She remembered what had made her fall in love with Amory eight years ago; his love of nature and animals, for one thing. He had compassion for people; he was loyal, and, oddly enough, it was the loyalty to her father that destroyed what they might have had.

  "I'll get another one, some day," he said quietly, and returned to cleaning and gutting the game. Minutes later he wrapped them in freezer paper, and stuck them in the huge chest freezer against the wall of the lean-to.

  "How's the hand?" she asked, glancing at the small bandage, and taking his hand in hers for a moment.

  "A little stiff and sore, but I disinfected it." His voice went softer as his eyes traveled to their hands.

  Her cheeks had to be flaming, they felt so hot. She let go of his hand slowly, not wanting to put meaning to it.

  "Funny," she mused aloud, moving away from his disturbing presence, "--but I don't remember us talking like this eight years ago."

  "We didn't share much of ourselves back then," he cleared his throat and looked away again. "Youth makes you shy and backward at that age."

  Kasie nodded.

  It would do no good talking about the past. And yet, the need lingered.

  Needing a distraction, she scanned the lean-to quickly, taking in the homemade canned goods along one wall.

  "My, you're stocked, aren't you?"

  Amory nodded, a slight smile lingering on his handsome face as he turned away from her, to put his knife in the deep-welled sink once more. He rinsed it, and set it into a drawer under the counter.

  "My neighbors and I trade off meat for vegetables."

  "Nice trade off."

  Then he was staring at her again, coming closer until he was right in front of her. Her heart stopped beating for a few seconds; her throat went dry, and her eyes evaded his.

  "Are you sure you're not afraid of me, Kasie?"

  Only of falling in love with you again.

  "N-no, of course not."

  "Good."

  He walked right past her. She let her breath out, disappointment mingled with relief. She had forgotten his charisma, something she had never fully understood.

  They went inside the cabin without another word, shutting the snow and wind from the warmth of the cabin.

  "Why aren't you wearing the clothes we bought yesterday?"

  Kasie glanced on the big bed where a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt lay sprawled. "Because I must not have paid much attention to size. They don't fit. I never should have gotten them."

  "There's a parka in the closet that should work nicely for going in and out of the lean-to. The one you picked out is warm, but not good enough for blizzard weather."

  Kasie glanced at the clothes."So, where is Tanka??"

  "He should be here any time now."

  "Do you think he'll remember me?"

  "He'll remember."

  "I sensed he didn't like me back then."

  "And why is that?"

  "Just a feeling."

  "He liked you, but he thought you were too young."

  She nodded. "He was right. I liked him. He had such a sense of humor."

  Amory shot her a quizzical look. "Yeah, I guess. Well, feel free to make yourself at home, Kasie, I'll be back before dark."

  He went to the closet and took out a few things before returning to her side.

  "W-where are you going?" She prodded him. After all, it wasn't as if he was going down to the local grocery store or cafe. This was the big middle of nowhere, and he was leaving!

  His eyes took her in, with one sweep of those long dark lashes. Amory didn't know he was sexy; he had no idea.

  "I'm gonna get a line on Ole Blue. See if he's been bothering anyone else around here. If I don't, the rangers will get wind of his snooping, and take care of him for good. You stay put, you'll be just fine."

  "Stay put? Not on your life. I'll come with you," she declared, grabbing the jeans her father had paid for, and pulling the curtain around the bed so she could change.

  "No." His voice held no room for argument. "It's no place for a woman. Besides, your father might arrive any time."

  Kasie shook her head adamantly, as she scrambled from the curtain in her new jeans and shirt outfit. Kasie shrugged her indifference away, her interest piqued at chasing a bear. "A woman? What's that's supposed to mean?"

  He turned to stare her down. "It means you don't belong out there."

  "Now look, I was raised in this kind of country. Don't be such a male chauvinist, Amory. And don't judge me so quickly. I was a Girl Scout, remember? You practically trained me yourself. You know as well as I do that I'm as capable as any man. Besides, I've still got a little of that tomboy in me."

  Humoring her for a second, he smiled again, as though her words warmed him. "Look, I'm proud you were a Girl Scout, and I'm even glad you still remember the tomboy, because the way things look around here, you just might need that experience. But you're not coming with me, and that's all there is to that, honey."

  The way he called her honey, so naturally, as though it were commonplace, as though it just tumbled out of his mouth before he realized it, both confused and pleased her. At least he no longer considered her a brat. Still, he hadn't that right any longer. She needed to establish that fact. And she wasn't about to let him leave her.

  "Of course I am," she blurted out, as the jeans slipped another inch off her hips and she hiked them up with a quick jerk on the belt.

  "Oh, no, you're not!"

  "You can't just leave me here alone."

  "Can't I?" He bent his head a little closer. "You just said you were a Girl Scout, didn't you?" His finger dotted her nose, and an electric current a half-mile wide raced up her spine. When would she learn not to react to this man?

  "Besides, it looks as though you're going to have enough problems just keeping your clothes on."

  "That's all right, I'll manage," she protested, pulling the jeans higher than normal.

  "I've got a neighbor with a kid about your size, I'll check with him when I get back."

  Him! Yes, she was built more like a gangly young boy than a woman. Just o
nce, she wished she could fill out clothes like a curvaceous woman, just to show him a thing or two. He probably still saw her as a tomboy.

  "Great!" she said, not able to harness all her anger.