High Mountain Home Page 18

  Lost in the moment, she wound her arms around his neck. He was so strong, so solid, so…male, and she felt small, fragile and beautiful in his arms. His tongue brushed her lips and she opened them to him eagerly. Slowly, as he’d done everything else, he met her tongue and caressed it with his own.

  That internal warning grew louder, but she ignored it. She knew he wasn’t here to stay. Even if he did stay, this thing between them could never be anything more than it was right now. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it to be. It was simply a moment stolen out of time. One she wanted to savor for as long as it lasted.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  GABE PULLED AWAY first. Lord knows, it wasn’t because he wanted to. He was on fire. Pulsing with desire he couldn’t satisfy here, and nearly sick with wanting. And if he wanted to completely screw up his life and guarantee that the old man hated him, he’d hang on to Siddah and never let go.

  He’d been waiting for Siddah, intending to tell her about his conversation with Bobby. But now didn’t seem like a good time to add another burden to her shoulders. Later, he told himself. When she wasn’t so fragile.

  It took more willpower than he knew he had to release her and step away, and the look in her eyes, that glowing, passionate glimmer of desire, almost had him saying to hell with all of it. Let the mill fail. Let the old man hate him. Let the future die. Let his mother’s disappointment in him grow. If Siddah had reached for him, he’d have given it all up in that moment without batting an eye.

  But Siddah was a practical woman. She might have enjoyed their kiss, but she knew as well as he did that it couldn’t lead to anything more. It had been a fluke. The result of one weak moment. One of those things that you don’t regret but you don’t go out of your way to repeat.

  He’d never envied Peter more than he did in that moment, and he wondered what would have happened if Gabe had met her first? Since he couldn’t continue looking at Siddah without wanting much more, he glanced at his watch and tried to look surprised by the time. “It’s nearly eleven,” he said, his voice too loud and eager. “I should go.”

  Nodding, Siddah turned partially away and wrapped her arms around herself. “You don’t want to be late.”

  He didn’t want to go at all, but he didn’t let himself say so. It didn’t feel right to just run out the door without saying something, though. More ill at ease than he’d been since he was Bobby’s age at a school dance, he tried to come up with the right words. “Siddah, I—”

  “Please don’t,” she said, cutting him off. “Whatever it is you’re going to say, please don’t.” She turned to him, and he knew she was probably as torn, as confused and as guilty as he was.

  There was nothing more to say. And though kissing her had been one of the best moments in his life, he had the foreboding feeling that he would live to regret it.

  She deserved so much more than he could give. She needed so much more than he could give. If he was any kind of man at all, he’d keep his distance from here on out.

  SIDDAH’S ALARM didn’t go off the next morning, thanks to a storm that had moved into the valley overnight and knocked out power while she slept. Not that she’d slept all that well. Gabe had drifted in and out of her dreams all night, and she was more confused by morning than she was before. But with just half an hour to get behind her desk, she didn’t have time to think about Gabe or the future.

  She woke Bobby and rushed through her morning routine, throwing on an old standby outfit and running a brush through her hair, then sweeping a little blush and powder onto her cheeks before rushing out the door to drop Bobby at school.

  She’d just slid into her chair when Chris came to the door of her office, and she knew at once that something was terribly wrong.

  Wearing an expression as dark as the clouds outside, he wagged a pink message slip in front of him. “You want to tell me what this is?”

  “I don’t know,” she said uncertainly. “What does it say?”

  He made a show of looking at the message, clearing his throat, and finally reading, “Judge Benson’s clerk called. Exhibits B-one through B-nine are missing from the packets you had delivered this morning.” Looking away from the message, his cold eyes pierced Siddah. “You want to explain how that happened?”

  The blood drained from Siddah’s face. “That can’t be right. Amanda and I went over everything with a fine-tooth comb before we finished last night. I’m sure we included everything. We checked three times.”

  “Apparently you didn’t check well enough.” Chris tossed the message onto her desk. “They’re not only missing from the original set of exhibits, they’re also missing from the courtesy copies we delivered to the judge’s chambers. I’m guessing that means opposing counsel didn’t receive them either.”

  With her mind racing as she tried to figure out how she could have made a horrendous mistake, Siddah reached for her master list and began thumbing through it. “B-one through nine?” She found them on the list and her heart sank. “Every one of the deposition transcripts? That’s impossible. I’m sure they were there.”

  “Not there,” Chris insisted. “And not in the files on my desk. I’ve already checked.”

  “But they were there last night. They couldn’t have just disappeared. I certainly didn’t throw them out, and I’m sure Amanda didn’t.”

  “Well, they’re gone somewhere,” Chris snapped. “We’ve checked every inch of the office.”

  Siddah kneaded her forehead frantically. Those transcripts hadn’t just walked out the door on their own, but she couldn’t even begin to think of where they’d gone. “Can we order new copies?”

  “Do you have any idea how much they cost?”

  “Yes, but—” She broke off, sick with worry and having trouble forming coherent thought. “I just don’t understand how this happened. I know those transcripts were there. I know we copied them.”

  “I think the problem is, your focus isn’t on the job. We’ve talked about this before, but the situation isn’t getting better.”

  Siddah shook her head firmly. “That’s not true. I’m one-hundred percent focused when I’m here.” But that wasn’t true. Last night she’d been thinking about coming home to Gabe and Bobby.

  Chris picked up the message slip from her desk and held it out to her. “This isn’t a hundred percent, Siddah. We both know that.”

  “No, of course not.” Her stomach turned over, and she thought she might be sick. “I don’t know how this happened, Chris, but I swear I’ll make it right. I’ll find the transcripts and I’ll take them to the court myself. I’ll stand there and watch the judge’s clerk every second to make sure they get in the right place. It was a mistake, and I’ll fix it. It won’t happen again.” Not if her life depended on it.

  Chris stared at her without blinking for an uncomfortably long time, and Siddah had to force herself not to slink down in her chair like a child who’d been chastised. After what seemed like forever, he turned away.

  Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away. She wanted so desperately to create a safe, secure world for Bobby, but what little security he had in his life came from Gabe, Helene and Monty. Instead of shoring up her son’s world, Siddah felt as if she was knocking the foundation out from under him.

  “TASTE THIS.” Ivy shoved a spoon filled with something that smelled of almonds under Siddah’s nose. “I’m thinking about making this for the progressive dinner on Friday. What do you think?”

  Siddah pulled back sharply and wiped her juice-stained hands on a towel near her elbow. She’d been helping Ivy preserve cherries all morning, but she’d been so distracted thinking about work and Gabe, she’d hardly noticed that Ivy had stopped working to throw lunch together.

  It took some effort, but she managed to put on what she hoped was an enthusiastic expression as she took the spoon from Ivy. Though she hadn’t spared a thought for food all day, one bite of Ivy’s chicken-rice salad made her stomach growl with hunger. “It’s great,” she said, passing
back the spoon. “Where did you say you got the recipe?”

  “From a friend I used to work with.” Smiling with satisfaction, Ivy reached for the foil she’d left on the counter. Even after working over a hot stove all day, her hair looked as if she’d just finished styling it, and her makeup was flawless. “I’ve had it in my recipe book for years, but I’ve never made it before. Do you think there’s too much almond?”

  “No. I think it’s perfect.” Siddah shook off her odd mood and took advantage of the break. “What course are you preparing this time?”

  “I have the salad,” Ivy said over her shoulder as she carried the bowl to the refrigerator. “I thought I’d put a mound of this on a bed of lettuce, but I can’t decide what I should offer to drink with it. Lemonade wouldn’t really go, would it?”

  “I don’t think so. Too sour.”

  Ivy closed the refrigerator and came back to the table. She pushed aside the bowl of cherries Siddah had been pitting and put her feet up on an empty chair. “I thought about apple cider, but that doesn’t feel quite right, either.”

  “That chardonnay you bought last month would be nice.”

  “It would be great,” Ivy agreed, “but this is just the second stop. I need to keep this course dry so we don’t have anyone driving under the influence. We don’t want any trouble like that time Bruce and Melanie got pulled over.”

  Siddah frowned at the memory. “I haven’t seen Bruce and Melanie in a while. How are things between them?”

  “About the same. You know Bruce. He refuses to admit that anything’s wrong, and Melanie can’t talk about anything else.” Ivy swept sugar from the table into her hand. “So have you made up your mind yet? Are you coming to dinner?”

  Siddah hadn’t given it much thought, but she didn’t need to. “I don’t think so.”

  “And the reason for that would be…?”

  “Work, for one thing. I barely have time to breathe as it is, and I don’t spend nearly enough time with Bobby.”

  “How’s the job going?”

  Siddah started to give a pat answer, but stopped herself and forced out the truth. “Not well,” she admitted. “I made a mistake with some exhibits the other day that left the County Attorney’s office looking sloppy and inept. Chris was embarrassed in front of the judge, and he wasn’t happy. I can’t even say I blame him. I found the documents and got them delivered where they needed to go, but if that had happened on a different case, the news media would have made hash out of Evan and Chris over it.” She propped her chin in her hands and sighed heavily. “I feel like everything is falling apart around my ears. The harder I work, the worse it all gets.”

  “All the more reason you need to relax.”

  “If I’m lucky enough to be off work that night, I really should stay in with Bobby.”

  “You need to have fun, too,” Ivy said firmly.

  “I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Ivy. I’m doing what I need to do for Bobby’s sake.”

  “Seems to me, Bobby might be happy just seeing you once in a while.”

  The observation stung. “Which only makes my argument stronger, not yours. Besides, I don’t want to come alone. I’m trying to move on like everyone says I should, but if I go alone, all I’d think about was how Peter wasn’t there. I just don’t want to put myself through that.”

  “The first time is bound to be tough,” Ivy agreed. “But we’ll all be there for you, and it will get easier with practice.”

  “I don’t want to practice.” Suddenly desperate for some air, Siddah crossed to the back door and stood in front of the screen where she could see Bobby and Rebecca playing in the weak autumn sunlight.

  “He’s made a lot of progress in the last little while,” Ivy said from behind her. “Gabe must be good for him.”

  That was another subject Siddah didn’t want to discuss, especially since all she could think about was kissing him again. “I think he is. He’s good for both of us, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  “He’s nothing like I thought he’d be,” Siddah admitted.

  “So why don’t you invite Gabe? If he came with you, you wouldn’t be alone.”

  The smile slid from Siddah’s face. “Are you kidding?”

  “Not at all. The two of you are getting along, right?”

  Siddah’s heart began to race, but she looked away so Ivy wouldn’t see how much the suggestion intrigued her. “We are, but I can’t ask him to the dinner. What would people think?”

  “Who cares?”

  “I do, and I’m sure he does, too.” Besides, things had been strained between them since that kiss. Gabe still showed up every day, and there was nothing she could put her finger on to prove that things had changed, but she could feel the difference.

  Ivy waved away her concerns with one careless hand. “What can they think? You’d be having dinner with a group of mutual friends. What of it? It would at least give you a chance to get out of the house and see people, and you wouldn’t have to be alone. I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Of course you do. You suggested it.” Siddah wondered what Ivy would think if she told her the truth, but she wasn’t ready to take that step. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Do more than think. Ask him. I’ll ask my mom if Bobby can stay at her house that night with Rebecca while we’re out.”

  “Don’t start making too many plans,” Siddah warned. “Gabe probably has to work that night.”

  “If you ask him soon enough, maybe he’ll have time to change his schedule.”

  “Maybe.”

  Ivy huffed in frustration. “Come on, Siddah! If you don’t want to ask Gabe, fine. But you’ve been hidden away in that house for too long. If you want Bobby to be interested in life and the people around him, maybe you should try showing him how it’s done.”

  Siddah forced a laugh to lighten the mood. “Wow. All this because I’m not sure about asking Gabe to the progressive dinner?”

  “I’m very passionate about the idea.”

  “I can tell.” Sobering, Siddah gave the idea some thought. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. It would give them some time alone, away from Bobby. A chance to talk about this thing between them and decide exactly what it was. Right or wrong, the thought of an adult evening with Gabe was awfully appealing. “So, okay,” she conceded. “I’ll ask him. Better?”

  Warmth crept into Ivy’s smile. “If you mean it.”

  “Are you kidding?” Siddah held out both hands and pretended to weigh her options. “Ask Gabe to dinner. Get steamrollered by Ivy.” She tilted her head, considering. “Yep. I’ll ask him.”

  “When?”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “Really? And if he says yes, you’ll come to the dinner?”

  “Well, it’s either that or stand him up. So, yeah. If he says yes, I’ll come to the dinner.”

  Ivy pumped one arm into the air. “Yes!”

  “I said I’d ask,” Siddah reminded her. “He hasn’t said yes.”

  “Oh, he will.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” But now that she’d decided, Siddah couldn’t deny the seed of excitement budding inside her. She just hoped she wouldn’t regret this decision.

  THE SUN WAS CRESTING the mountains when the alarm on Gabe’s watch dragged him reluctantly from dozing to wakefulness. His body clock had adjusted to being back in Montana, but he’d always been a morning person and working all night still played havoc with him at times.

  Yawning, he stepped out of the guard shack into the cool of the morning. A stiff wind blew into the valley from the mountains, and the songs of birds on nearby utility poles brought back memories of other mornings so clearly he might have been twelve again, standing on the bank of the river, hair spiked from sleep, eyes blurry, but filled with contentment as his father rooted around in the supplies and started a fire for breakfast.

  Smiling, he crossed the yard toward the front gate, his senses filled with sunlight and sawdust. In the
distance, the song of a meadowlark split the morning and Gabe realized between one step and the next that he’d miss this when he left again.

  He pushed that thought from his mind as he kicked himself into gear and jogged the rest of the way to the gate. After working the key in the massive lock, he pushed back the gate so that the yard stood ready for the morning shift to arrive.

  He turned back just as his father’s pickup loomed over the hill and into view. Since Labor Day, Gabe had been watching, waiting…wishing for something different than the usual noncommittal stare as the truck rattled into the yard. But day after day passed with no change in the old man’s greeting.

  Maybe it was the memories of long-ago summers that got his feet moving. Maybe it was the impatience he’d been known for his entire life. Whatever it was, Gabe pounded up the steps into the office a minute after Monty did.

  The old man must have heard him coming—nobody could sneak up those stairs—but he didn’t even look up from the coffeepot when Gabe walked through the door.

  Gabe didn’t let that deter him. He shut the door behind him, blocking out the sunlight and the birdsong. “You got a minute?”

  His father shrugged and turned toward his office. “What for? You gonna quit?”

  Did he have to make this so damn hard? Gabe balled his hands into fists and struggled to keep his voice even. “No. I’d just like to talk to you about the mill.”

  That brought the old man’s head around with a snap. “What about it?”

  “I’ve been hearing talk. I want to know how true it is.”

  Monty dropped into the chair behind his desk. “What kind of talk?”

  “About the mill being in trouble.” Gabe sat across from him. He noticed his father’s raised eyebrows and ignored them. “People are saying that you’ve been having trouble making payroll since the accident.”

  “And you believe that?”

  “It came from a credible source.”