EDGE (46 page)

“Come back here, Linnie,” Ramsey hollered. “I want an answer.”

Linnet slammed through the bedroom door and picked up her pace until she was almost running when she reached the kitchen. If she didn’t smoke a cigarette she was going to die. She stopped fast as Mel entered the kitchen from the outside door. “What are you doing walking around?” she asked Mel with a scowl.

“What are you doing wearing a robe before dinner?” Mel fired back with arched brows.

Linnet raised her head and tightened the sash on her red kimono, hoping all her pertinent parts were covered. “I took a nap.”

“Slow down, woman.” Ramsey rushed into the room, almost running smack dab into Linnet in his hurry. He grabbed a hold of her hips to help regain his balance. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

She slapped his hands away and tried to ignore Mel’s knowing look. Upon seeing Mel, Ramsey quickly finished tucking in his shirt, though some stuck through his open zipper.

“So, you two getting along better?” Mel asked, with a knowing grin.

“No,” Linnet said at the same time as Ramsey said, “Yes.”

“I’d call what we’d been doing as better.” Ramsey glared at Linnet as though daring her to argue. “You aren’t swinging objects at my head.”

“Give me a chance to find something heavy,” Linnet gritted between her teeth. She walked over to the coffee pot, poured herself a cup, and then took a seat at the table.

“Why don’t I leave the two of you alone,” Mel said.

“Don’t you dare move.” Linnet handed Mel a cookie from the plate on the table as a bribe. It worked. Mel took the gingersnap and leaned against the counter. Good. Finding herself alone with Ramsey had landed her in bed with him. Damn, if he hadn’t been right about being the best she’d ever had.

Ramsey glowered and parked his hands on his hips. “We should settle this in private.”

“There’s nothing to settle.” Linnet grabbed a gingersnap for herself, and bit into it. She wondered briefly when Nicole had found the time to bake cookies.

“Shacking up with me is not ‘settled’,” Ramsey said.

Linnet felt heat infuse her face and couldn’t decide if she was embarrassed or just plain mad. “Ramsey, I don’t want to get into this here.”

“Then you shouldn’t have sat down
here
.”

Ramsey addressed Mel. “This woman won’t make an honest man out of me.”

“
Ramsey
,” Linnet hissed.

“I’m too old to wait around for you to make up your mind.”

“I’ve made up my mind.”

“Not to my liking.” Ramsey turned to Mel. “Tell her she’s as mad as a March hare.”

Mel looked at Linnet with a raised brow. “Are you?”

“Hell, yes.” Linnet slapped the table top. “I shouldn’t have offered to shack up with him in the first place. Old coot, doesn’t know how good he’s got it.”

“You weren’t calling me an old coot a little bit ago.” Ramsey’s eyes smoldered.

Now Linnet’s face flamed for other reason. “You weren’t forcing a commitment out of me then either.”

“What ya afraid of?” Ramsey demanded.

“Nothing.” Linnet took great interest in the cookie crumbs littering the table top.

“That’s a bunch of moose turds.” Ramsey came up to the table and leaned over it until his face was right next to hers. “You’re afraid, if you let me into your heart, I’m gonna leave you.”

All the heat left her face in a rush, leaving her ice cold. She pushed back from the table and stood. “I’ve been married six times.
Six times
. You know anyone else with that kind of track record?” She didn’t wait for his response. “Every one of the men I married left me, one way or the other. What makes you any different?”

“I love you. I
love
that you are bitchy, mean-spirited, and the most obstinate, demanding woman I’ve ever met! Yeah, you’re nice to look at, but so what. You’re
tough
and have survived what this country insists of you. Like Mel.” He gestured to where Mel stood eating a cookie that currently was stuck midway to her mouth as she listened. “Forged in the fires of hell and stronger for it. You’re a real frontierswoman. The woman I’ve been looking for all my damn life!”

“Oh, Ramsey,” Linnet whispered. No man had ever yelled at her like that. He knew who she really was and yet he still loved her.
Her
. Instead of some idea of who he thought she was, like all the others. She rushed toward him with open arms, and he clutched her to him.

“Now, will you marry me?” he asked his husky voice muffled in her hair.

She leaned back and smiled at him through tears that had gathered in her eyes. “I’ll promise to think about it.”

He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers, as though resigned for the moment. “You’re going to make me work for it, aren’t you?”

Now her smile was crafty. “Why don’t we get working on it right now?”

He chuckled. “I’m nothing if not a hardworkin’ man.” Ramsey winked at Mel and quickly ushered Linnet out of the room.

Cache entered the great room with Rinka at his heels, having just taken her for a walk. Linnet and Ramsey rushed by him, giggling like a couple of love-sick teenagers. He didn’t even think they’d seen him.

At least they’d worked out their differences, he thought, wishing he and Mel were laughing and chasing each other around the lodge like that.

Rinka lifted her muzzle, twisted it in the air, and then padded to the couch, smelling around the cushions, obviously catching Mel’s scent. The new mom looked rough around the edges, but seemed to be coping with her litter of seven.

“She isn’t here, girl. We’ll have to catch her later.”

Mel wasn’t there, but his journal was. It lay face down on the cushions as though forgotten. Had she read it? Had she taken his words to heart before carelessly leaving his journal on the couch for anyone to find?

He dragged a hand through his storm-tossed hair. Rain slashed against the windows. He’d been caught in the downpour and felt as though the storm continued to rage recklessly inside of him.

Maybe he needed to face the fact Mel wouldn’t allow herself to love him. He picked up the journal and tucked it under his arm.

“Come on, girl. Let’s get you to your pups.” Rinka nudged his hand, and he scratched her between the ears. She closed her eyes in obvious bliss. Too bad Mel wasn’t more like her dog. He’d won Rinka over with potty breaks and ear rubs.

Cache let Rinka back into Mel’s room, and then entered his own. He threw the journal onto the bed and then flopped down on the mattress next to it.

Guests would be filling the lodge tomorrow, and he’d have less time with Mel. Maybe that was the key. Maybe he needed to give her time. He could take his camera and see a bit more of Alaska. God knew there was a lot to see.

Or should he call it quits and head back to New York? He’d have more control over what Tom was planning to do about Mel’s story if he headed back.

He’d better catch a ride with Sergei tomorrow and fly back. He had to sell his apartment, pack his things. Waiting around here for Mel to
maybe
change her mind was getting him nowhere.

Pushing her to fall in line with his plans was pushing her away. He couldn’t blame her. All her life people had pushed and poked at her. It was time to take a step back and let her breathe. How did the saying go...if you let a bird go and it came back to you of its own free will, it’s yours to keep, but if it didn’t...

Mel was like a bird. Like the eagle, he’d seen the first day on The Edge. Wild, regal, and free. He didn’t want to tether her. He wanted to watch her fly. Wanted to fly with her.

He got off the bed and grabbed his duffel from the top of his closet. With every article of clothing he packed, his heart splintered a little more. He was bleeding inside at the thought of leaving. He was taking a chance Mel wouldn’t let him return.

“What are you doing?” Mel asked quietly from the doorway.

Cache turned and took in her pale face, bloodshot eyes, and wet hair, hanging limply down her back. A fleece blanket was wrapped around her shoulders and didn’t seem as though it was doing much to keep her warm. She looked in pain and emotionally wrung out.

“Why are you walking around?” he asked.

“Answer me first.” She looked at the bag on the bed and the pile of clothes he was stuffing into it.

“I’ve decided to leave with Sergei tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“There are things I need to take care of in New York, and you don’t need me here.”

“You got a story to write?”

“No. I’ll make sure Tom isn’t writing one either.”

“So that stuff in your journal…about not writing my story unless I wanted you to…” She looked down at the rug, seeming to find the weave of the fibers fascinating.

“That’s right. No story without your written consent.”

She took a deep breath as though gathering strength. “What if I gave you permission? How would you go about…telling my story?”

He laid down the shirt he’d been about to stuff in the corner of his bag. “What are you saying, Mel?”

She shivered under the damp blanket and raised her forget-me-not blue eyes to his. “In your journal, you wrote of the victims that I could help by telling how I overcame what happened to me.”

He nodded, which was all she seemed to need in order to continue.

“All this time I’ve been thinking about me and how opening myself up to speculation again would change
my
life. Not how I could help change someone else’s. I’m not the same scared little girl anymore, and if there is a chance I could help someone overcome the horrors I have, then wouldn’t it somehow make all that I suffered, mean something?”

She’d gone and surprised him again. The last thing he’d thought she’d ever do was consent to tell her story. “Do you have any idea how amazing you are?”

“No, I’m not. I’m just a woman trying to live with the hand she was dealt.”

“Yeah, and I find you utterly amazing.”

“If I’m so amazing—” she motioned to his stuff scattered over the bed “—why are you leaving?”

He looked at his half-packed bag. “I figured you could use some space.”

She choked out a laugh that was almost a sob and gestured around her. “Space is one thing I have in abundance.”

He felt the stirrings of hope. His throat tightened and he found it hard to swallow. “I’d give anything to crowd you.”

Her eyes swam with tears. “I love you, Cache.”

He staggered on his feet and had to grab hold of the corner log of the four-poster bed. He’d never thought he’d hear her say the words.

“Are you just going to stand there? I said I loved you. I’ve never said that to anyone before.” She seemed to lose some of her confidence, her hands twisting in the folds of the blanket. “I figured, with all the flowery stuff you’d written about me, you’d start waxing poetic or…”

That’s my girl, he thought. No mushy platitudes for her. “Or what?” he asked, finding his balance and advancing toward her. “What would you like me to do?” his voice lowered with anticipation.

“Well, for starters, you could sweep me off my feet before I fall on my ass. It’s been a rough few days.”

He laughed, and joy filled him like warm sunshine after a cooling rain. “I’ll do my best, but with my bum leg, we both might end up on our asses.” He reached her and she swayed into his arms. Her body trembled against his and he realized just how hard it had been for her, baring her heart to him. With no finesse whatsoever, he kissed her. It was rough, demanding, primitive. A man marking his woman, but this woman sunk her nails into his biceps and left her own mark. His heart swelled to bursting.

He broke the kiss and gazed deep into her eyes, eyes that had haunted him for twenty years. He shut the door, bent and lifted her in his arms, grateful the bed wasn’t far, for he felt as though his knees were going to give out. Laying her down on the quilt, he pushed his bag and clothes to the floor.

He wasn’t going anywhere, not without her.