Gail Barrett - Facing the Fire

Her face flamed. No wonder she’d ignored the cabin all these years. It had been far easier to let it go than relive those delirious times. And how could she stand to be here with him now?

She had no choice. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath of pine-tinged air and stepped down. “We’ll be right back,” she told the dog and closed the door.

Fir needles cushioned her steps as she trailed Cade to the wooden toolshed behind the cabin. She tried not to walk too close, to keep some distance between them. She didn’t want to feel his heat, his power, that mesmerizing tick of desire that consumed her whenever he was in sight.

He stopped at the door and waited for her to unlock it. She stepped beside him and that smoky scent reached her nostrils, along with the essence of Cade. Her head felt light, and her pulse quickened at the vivid memories. How many times had they done this together, coming home to the cabin? But back then, they’d be laughing. Cade would pull her close and nuzzle her neck….

Her hands shaking, her face burning, she fumbled to unlock the rusty padlock securing the door. She didn’t dare look at Cade.

She finally unhooked the lock and stepped back. Cade moved forward and she braved a glance at his face. His jaw was rigid, the muscles along his cheeks tense.

Without warning, his gaze met hers. And for an instant, she saw that old fire in his eyes, the urgency and passion.

And then, just as fast, it was gone.

Unable to breathe, she yanked her gaze to the ground. And suddenly, an ache swelled in her heart, along with a deep sense of loss, as if something special had disappeared from her life, something unique. A connection, a sense of destiny she’d never felt with anyone since. And maybe never would again.

Her throat cramped as Cade shoved the creaking door open and stepped past her into the shed. His boots tramped hard on the wooden floor, and his wide shoulders filled the narrow doorway. She blinked back the blur in her eyes.

Seconds later, he turned and handed her a coil of nylon line with an old wooden clothespin stuck to it. Somehow the rope made her feel even worse, and the wedge in her throat grew thicker. It shouldn’t have been fun washing their clothes by hand, stringing that line across the cabin in the winter, letting the clothes dry by the heat of the woodstove while they made love on the bed. But dear God, she’d adored this man.

She looked at his unyielding face and just then, it struck her. The deep bitterness he felt, the resentment. The fierce anger he’d fostered for years.

He blamed the collapse of their marriage on her.

But that was crazy! He was the one who had left. He’d chosen his job over her.

But he didn’t see it that way. A sick feeling spiraled through her stomach. Oh, God. “Cade, I…” Her voice shook, and her heart battered hard against her rib cage. “Back there, when we were catching the dog, you said, you thought I’d…that I’d abandoned you.”

He stilled, and the muscles along his jaw tensed. “You’re trying to tell me you didn’t?”

“Yes. I mean no, I didn’t, I never…”

“Right.” Bitterness seeped through his voice. “Well, you sure as hell fooled me.” He made a sound of disgust and turned away.

And her heart balled even tighter. She never would have abandoned Cade. She’d loved him back then, truly loved him, with a passion bordering on desperation. He’d been the center of her world, the hero of her childhood dreams—or so she’d thought.

But even when he’d crushed those dreams, she’d never intended to hurt him. She’d just been too wrapped up in her own misery to do anything more than flee.

She gazed at his rigid back and her heart wrenched. She had to tell him that. Even if it didn’t change how he felt, he needed to know the truth. He probably wouldn’t listen to her now, and with the fire at their backs, this wasn’t the time. But somehow, before they reached Missoula, she would explain.

He lifted a plastic fuel container with his left hand, shook it, and handed it back. Then he pulled the chain saw from the shelf. “When was the last time you used this?”

“I never have.”

“Hell. The damn thing probably won’t run.” He set it on the ground outside the shed, turned back and grabbed an ax. He set that down next to the chain saw.

“That’s it,” he said, still sounding angry. “Let’s go.”

Her heart weighted, she tucked the clothesline under her arm, picked up the chain saw, and headed toward the Jeep. She heard Cade close the shed door behind her.

He helped load the tools through the rear window, and every jerk of his arm, every twist of his head tightened her nerves, reminding her of the unfinished business between them. Still, she was thankful for his silence. With her emotions so raw, she didn’t trust herself to speak.

“The trail starts just past that boulder,” he said when they’d climbed back into the Jeep.

“I remember,” she managed. She pulled back onto the road and drove slowly toward the large rock, then stopped when she spotted the trail. Ferns sprawled over deep ruts and potholes. Branches poked through the clusters of weeds.

Her apprehension rose. “It looks pretty rough. Do you think the Jeep will make it?”

“It had better.”

“You’re right.” No matter how primitive, this road was their only way out. She tentatively stepped on the gas.

The Jeep bumped over a branch. The grooves around Cade’s mouth deepened and he cradled his arm to his chest. She hit the brakes, concerned. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You don’t look fine.” His skin had paled and new creases lined his forehead.

He flicked his hard gaze to her. “Well, looks can be deceiving, can’t they?”

A swift jab of hurt lanced her chest. “You think I deceived you?”

He raised a brow but didn’t answer, and she yanked her gaze to the trail. So he thought she had deceived him, that she’d lied to him when she left. In a way, she didn’t blame him. But he was wrong, and she had to explain that. She owed him that much after everything they’d shared.

But this wasn’t the time. Her throat aching with guilt and apprehension, she pressed on the gas. Fortunately, dodging branches demanded concentration and she pushed the past to the back of her mind.

But that left her to deal with the present. And no matter how difficult the trail was, her senses locked on the man stretched beside her. His long, muscled legs and sturdy boots filled the periphery of her vision. Every time she inhaled, his low, smoky scent scored her lungs. Even the rasp of his breath stroked her nerves into heightened awareness.

But then, he’d always had that effect on her. From the moment they’d met, he’d taken command of her senses. The attraction had been instant, overwhelming, sparking a passion they couldn’t contain. But even a fire that hot couldn’t sustain a marriage, especially when Cade wouldn’t stay home.

She glanced at him again and stifled a sigh. Unfortunately for her, the man still rattled her senses. Ten long years hadn’t dimmed that attraction one bit.

Which was going to make this one uncomfortable drive.

About a mile past the cabin, the road started climbing. Thankful for the distraction, she stopped and shifted to all-wheel drive. The sun slid behind the mountain as she powered uphill, sending long shadows over their path. The pines turned a darker shade of green, and the warm air gradually cooled.

Suddenly, she spotted the old meadow and her heart jammed in her throat. And despite her intentions, sensations clawed through her nerves, memories of rolling in that fragrant grass, alive and in love with Cade. When need had surged, and laughter had turned to breathtaking hunger.