Mountains Apart (Mills & Boon Heartwarming) (15 page)

Surprise flashed briefly across Janie's face before it transformed with an engaging smile. “Well, you're welcome. But all
I
did was fill a special order. And the wolf button is unique to your scarf.”

Emily tilted her head and stared at Janie, processing this information. “A special order?” she repeated.

“Yes, I was kind of surprised because Bering's never actually requested anything so specific before, but I'm glad you like it.”

Bering hadn't mentioned that he had asked Janie to make it special for her. And she suspected, from the look on Janie's face, that she knew that, and might be trying to tell her that, too. She smiled conspiratorially and said, “I really, really do. You know, you could start a business.”

“I've always liked to knit, but after Cal died, I found that it was one of the few things that just...made time pass. That probably sounds weird, huh?”

“Not at all,” she said. Drawing did that for her, she explained to Janie, and although the circumstances were obviously different, she thought she could understand at least a little. She recalled how she'd filled many lonely hours when she was young and had first gone away to school. She would draw for hours, just turn her brain off and get lost in it. It made perfect sense to her that Janie would need something like that.

Their conversation was temporarily put on hold as Bering's relatives began filing into the house. She was promptly introduced to a variety of aunts, uncles, cousins and too many little ones to count or to even keep track of. Some she'd already met at the office, or during one community event or another, but no one seemed to hold her connection with Cam-Field against her—not outright anyway. Emily watched and listened with fascination as hugs, kisses, scowls, jabs, teasing and plenty of laughter gradually filled nearly every square inch.

It seemed to Emily that she was a source of curiosity to them all. And she thought keeping up with a boardroom full of keyed-up executives was a challenge. She was subjected to several subtle questions, many thorough perusals and a couple outright interrogations, but she had expected as much and all in all she thought she handled herself fairly well.

The atmosphere seemed to mellow considerably after dinner. And how could it not? Emily was absolutely stuffed full of some of the best food she'd ever eaten in her entire life.

The children disappeared into the basement, although stomps, shouts and giggles could be heard drifting up the stairway. Adults gathered in the living room and kitchen with steaming mugs of coffee or tea. Emily wandered into the wide hallway to discover it contained two walls of photographs, spreading from nearly floor to ceiling. She quickly spotted Bering in several photos.

There was a whole story laid out on the walls and Emily had no idea how much time passed as she eagerly perused the contents, her imagination churning with images of Bering as a child, and then as a teenager, and throughout it all his interaction with this crew of loving family members.

“Hey,” Bering said a while later, coming up behind her. “Here you are. I thought maybe you'd bolted.”

“No way.” She gestured at the walls. “I'm enthralled by your family.”

“Enthralled,” he said with a nod. “That sounds so much better than the terrified or horrified that you could be.”

She turned toward him. “You know how lucky you are, right?”

“I do. But thank you for saying so.”

He leaned over her shoulder to peer at a photo. His nose brushed against her neck and Emily inhaled sharply as a warm thrill spiked through her.

“Mmm,” he said, “you smell good.”

“I do, huh?”

“Yeah, like lavender and—” he sniffed loudly and ungracefully “—ham.”

“Ham?” she repeated with a giggle. “It's actually bacon,” she whispered. “I dabbed bacon grease on my wrists and behind my ears this morning.”

“Really?” His tone was infused with amusement.

“I just wanted to try to fit in here.”

“Then next time use bear grease,” he said with a chuckle. He pointed at a photo. “This is my dad.”

“I figured,” she said. “You look just like him.”

Bering raised an eyebrow. “You know, some people say he was a very good-looking guy.”

She squinted at the photo. “Uh, he's okay.”

He laughed and then stepped closer. “I missed you. I haven't had anyone to keep my ego in check for three whole days.”

His look felt flirtatious, like the pre-kiss-and-speech Bering. The cease-fire Bering?

“Did you miss me?”

She tipped her head and studied him with narrowed eyes. “I don't know...I barely remember you. Give me a second...Bernie? Baird? Wait—is it Barry?”

He reached up and ran a thumb lightly down the side of her cheek and across her lower lip. Emily let out a soft gasp. He cupped his hand along her jaw, dipped his head and kissed her. His lips were warm and insistent, and though much too short, the kiss was thorough and full of heat. It took a second for her to catch her breath.

“Does that help you remember at all?”

Emily blinked up at him. “Maybe,” she whispered dazedly.

“Good.”

“I didn't think you wanted to... You said...”

He ran a hand through his hair. His voice sounded strained. “Emily, it wasn't because I didn't want to.”

“Why, then?”

“Because I was doubting my own assertion that we can remain...um, friends in spite of your job.”

“I don't normally kiss my friends,” she returned softly.

“I don't, either.”

“Bering, what are we doing?”

He reached out and wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and the other around her waist. He pulled her to him and held her in his arms. “I don't know, but I do know that I don't want to
not
do it anymore. I tried that. I told myself I wasn't going to kiss you again after that first time, and I won't anymore if you don't want me to. But I had a lot of time to think while I was gone and I know it's going to be complicated but, Emily, I—”

“It is,” she said anxiously. “It is complicated, but you're the one who keeps saying that we can... You've actually made me believe it.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds. He opened them and asked, “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

“Me, too,” he said and grinned down at her.

He kissed her again and took his time doing so.

They were both breathless when they parted. “Emily, I think we should go. There are some things we need to talk about and—”

“I hope I'm
interrupting?
” a voice called cheerily from just a few feet away.

Emily jumped. Bering didn't flinch but muttered something under his breath and then said, “You are.” He didn't take his eyes off Emily.

“Bering,” Emily returned in a chastising tone, “she wasn't trying to—”

“Trust me, she was.” Finally he looked at Janie. “What are you doing skulking around here anyway?”

“Chaperoning, and obviously it's needed,” she quipped. “Actually, I was using Mom's bathroom. The other ones were occupied and you know how it is when you're this far along...”

“You've mentioned it often enough,” Bering said drily.

“Just wait till you have a pregnant wife,” Janie answered matter-of-factly. “Then you'll be singing a more respectful tune. Do you want kids, Emily?”

“Um...” Emily said. She was flustered—flushed from the close contact with Bering and also embarrassed at being caught at it. “I do.” As she managed to get the words out, she realized in that moment how much she did. Janie seemed happy with her answer if the look on her face was any indication. But it wasn't something she felt like discussing right now. It felt too intimate—too intermingled with these new and confusing feelings for Bering.

“Bering, um,” Emily muttered, overtaken by the urge to change the subject and the course of her thoughts. “Maybe we should—”

“Go? Yes, we should definitely go. Mom,” he halfheartedly shouted down the hall. “Thanks for the delicious meal. We're gonna go.”

There was no way he could be heard over the cacophony of noise still radiating throughout the house, but he took Emily's hand and started down the hallway.

“Bering, stop!” Emily chastised. “I was going to say move into the other room with Janie. But if we are leaving, then we will thank your mom properly and say goodbye to every single one of your relatives.”

“Really, Bering, how rude,” Janie added, a pleased look on her face.

“Oh, Emily, no,” he said with a groan. “That will take forever. We can slip out and no one will even notice. I promise they won't mind.”

“Hey, it'll only take a minute.” She turned to walk toward the chaos.

Bering snaked a hand out and nabbed her wrist before she could get far. She yelped in surprise as he tugged her back toward him. “Emily, think about this. It'll be at least an hour before we get can out of here. If we go out the back—”

“It's not going to work,” she said as he tried halfheartedly to pull her along. “Nothing will stop me from properly thanking your mom and your aunts and saying goodbye to your relatives. What in the world is that? I didn't know you had spiders that big in Alaska.” She pointed up at the ceiling and then darted down the hallway as Bering fell for it completely.

Janie called out, “Oh, wait, Emily, you know what? You guys can't leave yet anyway. You haven't had dessert.”

“Dessert?” Emily stopped and turned immediately when she heard the word.

“Yep, there's pie.”

“Pie?” Emily cast an accusing look at Bering, hands on her hips. “There's pie, Bering.”

“I—” Bering said.

Janie clarified, “There's huckleberry, apple and coconut cream. Have you tried our huckleberries yet?”

“In your mom's scones,” Emily replied.

“Those are good, but they don't compare to pie.”

“Huckleberry pie? Bering, you know I'm not leaving here without trying that pie.”

Bering groaned. “Of course you're not,” he muttered, and then he looked at Janie. “I've created a monster. First, I couldn't get her to eat—now I can't get her to stop.”

Emily laughed and continued through the doorway, waving over her shoulder.

* * *

B
ERING
 
TURNED
 
AND
 
LOOKED
at his sister with narrowed eyes. “I will get even with you. You know that, right?”

Janie grinned at him. “I do, but you know what? It's worth it. And besides, I still have two months to go before these kids are born, and I know it won't be anything too severe before then.”

“That just gives me more time to plot.”

“She's a doll,” Janie said, abruptly changing the subject. “I thought she'd be so uptight. You know...corporate executive and all? But she's so not. I
like
her, Bering.”

“Me, too,” he replied.

“I know.” She nodded and added a knowing grin.

“What do you mean?” Bering returned skeptically.

“Bering, you're my brother. I know you. You've got this—” gestured up at him “—look plastered all over your face, and you can't take your eyes off her. You've never asked me to knit a scarf for anybody before. In fact, you have never asked me to knit anything for anybody ever—until now.”

He knew it was all true. He didn't care.

Janie placed one hand on her stomach and the other flat against her chest and grimaced.

“What's the matter?” Bering asked quickly. “Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath, blew it out slowly and finally answered, “Yes, it's just heartburn. Babies didn't like those pork chops. I'll be fine.”

Bering watched her closely for a second. “Are you sure you're okay?”

Her voice was quiet and sober when she spoke. “Yes, I'm fine. But what are you going to do?”

“About what?”

“About being in love with your archenemy? About being in love with a woman who's going to leave you?”

“Janie, I'm not—” He couldn't bring himself to deny it, but he couldn't quite admit it, either. Because what would that say about him as a person if he could fall in love with someone and yet not be totally honest with her at the same time? But would he even be willing to try to make this work with her if he wasn't? Being away from her for the past few days had made him see things differently. He had missed her. It had made him want to take advantage of whatever time they had, regardless of the outcome. It had prompted him to kiss her again, and this time he knew he could never take it back....

He leaned against the wall. But along with that, he realized he couldn't avoid things much longer, either. What was she going to do when she found out the truth? And what was he going to do when she left him? He wasn't sure which would come first, but both were inevitable, and both filled him with dread.

CHAPTER TWELVE

B
ERING
 
WAS
 
QUIET
 
when, almost two hours later with Emily stuffed full of pie and carrying a take-home container full of more pie, they finally left. It was as if admitting—by not denying—his feelings to his sister, he had brought emotions that had been only simmering beneath the surface to a full rolling boil. He'd never been in love before, so along with the joy of that emotion, there was also fear. He was scared of loving her because he was afraid of losing her and he couldn't see any scenario now where that wouldn't happen.

The drive to his house was quiet, both of them seemingly absorbed in thought. Bering opened the door for Emily, and they walked in and removed their coats and boots.

Emily turned toward him. “Bering, are you okay?”

He had intended to talk to her about everything—about their relationship and this situation with Cam-Field. He had wanted to reassure her, and himself, that they could work something out. But now as he stared down at her, he realized that his silent admission of love had changed everything. Suddenly it seemed as if so much more was at stake. How could this have happened? All he'd wanted to do for months was to save Rankins from the evil grip of Cam-Field, but now it seemed that in order to do that he had to surrender his own chance at love.

He stared at her for a long moment and then reached out and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, entwining his fingers in her hair. “Emily, I—” he began, but he knew that he couldn't say the words to her. He couldn't complicate things any more than he already had. For all his bold talk, he knew that by doing what he was doing with regard to Cam-Field she would never forgive him. And if he told her he loved her first, it would only make it worse. As Tag had suggested, it would all seem like part of some ploy. He was overwhelmed with the thoughts and feelings that were colliding within him.

“Did something happen on your trip?” she asked, her eyes wide and questioning.

A strangled sound emerged from the back of his throat. “I missed you,” he whispered, skimming his fingers lightly over her shoulders and down her arms. He bent and covered her lips with his own. He poured every bit of himself into the kiss and into his touch. He loved her, and he wanted her to love him back. And if he couldn't say it, then he was going to show it. Even though he knew it was irrational and impossible, he wanted her to love him back so that when it was all said and done none of it would matter because they'd still have each other.

“Okay,” he finally said against her lips. “I'm going to stop kissing you now.”

“Why?” she said. “You just started again.”

He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “Emily, first of all—I've never
not
wanted to kiss you.”

She smiled tentatively. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said shakily. “And this means yes.” He kissed her again. And again, and then his mouth began to travel slowly toward her ear....

“Bering,” she gasped as his teeth nipped at the creamy skin of her neck.

His hands slid up from her waist and encased her rib cage, and he was struck by how tiny she really was. She seemed so much bigger when she was talking—larger than life, actually, and the thought brought a smile to his lips. He kissed her once more and then wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

* * *

A
SHORT
 
TIME
 
later, they were browsing through Bering's vast movie library and he was voicing his astonishment at how few Emily had actually seen. He set the ones she had seen off to the side and Emily agreed it was a pitifully small pile. Then he started a must-see stack that he insisted they would watch together.

Emily didn't mention that they couldn't possibly watch that many movies if she were to remain in Rankins for another year, much less the few weeks or months of time they had remaining. Their lack of time was way too depressing and one she refused to allow herself to think about.

They agreed on a movie and eventually settled on the sofa.

“I can't believe you guys get together like that every Sunday.”

“Not every Sunday, but a lot of them.”

“How fun that must be.”

“It is,” he said. “Tell me more about your family.”

She frowned. “There's not much to tell.”

He dipped his head down and kissed her. “Please,” he urged.

Emily sighed. “Bering—”

“Please.”

“What do you want to know?”

He had one arm curled around her shoulders and he slowly began to trail a finger up and down her arm. “What's your dad like?”

“My biological dad died when I was a year old. He already had Aidan with Aidan's mom, Stephanie. Then he married my mom and had me. He died a year later—Aidan was four. We both look like him from the photos that I've seen.”

“Your mom remarried?

“She did. When I was three, so the only dad I've ever known is my stepfather.”

“So...a mom, a stepdad and a half brother—if I remember correctly?”

“Yep, that's it.”

“What's your brother like?”

“He's great—supersmart, like Reagan. He's very easygoing and laid-back—not like me. He's a scientist, a botanist.”

“And you said he lives in Oregon?”

“Well, when he's not traveling he's usually there. He goes all over the world to study plants. He's passionate about endangered plant species.”

“Wow, that's really cool.”

“It is,” she said with a proud smile. “I'd love for you to meet him.”

“What about your parents?”

“What about them?” she asked soberly.

“Why don't you want to talk about them?”

It felt strange hearing that spoken aloud. Why didn't she like to talk about them or her relationship with them? “Um...”

He reached over and picked up her hand. He began to gently rub the palm. The contact was incredibly soothing and for some reason she decided to tell him. He was so easy to talk to. She inhaled and then blew out a long breath. “We're not close. I love my mom, but we're very different. She has these really specific ideas about what being a woman means—staying home and taking care of her husband. She's very dependent on my stepfather for everything and I don't like it. I don't understand it. She doesn't think my career is going to find me a husband. She doesn't understand my choices. It's a source of tension between us.”

“So what does she do with her time?”

“She gets lots of facials, laser procedures and plastic surgeries. She shops and gets her nails done. She does do some charity work but honestly I think she does it more to socialize than anything else. We don't have anything in common and we don't have much to talk about.”

Bering pressed a kiss to her temple. “What about your stepdad?”

Emily thought for a minute about how to describe someone she had such complicated feelings for. “My stepfather is a good man. He's a great provider and a good husband to my mom. But he's also a difficult-to-please workaholic. Now that I'm an adult things are better—or they were until recently—because we have this driving work ethic in common. But we don't talk about anything personal. We aren't a family unit in the traditional sense—nothing at all like your family.”

* * *

B
ERING
 
LIFTED
 
HER
 
HAND
and kissed her fingertips. He felt bad because although she relayed the information impassively, he could tell she was feeling anything but. What Emily described was the polar opposite of his family. He couldn't imagine functioning without the cohesive love and support of his family. He wanted Emily to have that; he wanted her to be a part of a real family—a family like his.

“I'm so sorry,” he said.

She shrugged. “It is what it is. I do have Aidan, and his mom is really great to me, too. I think of her like an aunt. She always made sure that Aidan and I had as much of a brother/sister relationship as we could. It's because of her that I saw so much of him growing up.”

Bering decided to ask her the question that had been nagging at him since he'd met her, and especially since his conversation with Tag. “Why are you here, Emily?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you come to Rankins? I mean, I can deduce that you are obviously pretty high up in the ranks of Cam-Field, so you must have some discretion about the jobs you work on, so why here? I know for a fact Cam-Field is working on projects in Louisiana, Oklahoma, Texas and North Dakota right now—to name a few.”

“Someone has done his homework, I see.”

Bering smiled and squeezed her hand.

“I requested it,” she confessed.

“Really?” That was not what he expected her to say.

“Yep,” she said. “I, um, I sort of had an issue at work a few months ago.”

“An issue?” he prodded.

“I was passed over for a promotion,” she said. “I had broken up with this guy.” She shook her head as if to convey his unimportance. “He got the promotion instead of me—undeservedly so, but that's another story. I was more upset about the promotion than the guy. And, as this is Cam-Field's first attempt to establish business up here in Alaska, I impulsively jumped at the opportunity to take it on.”

He nodded. “Because you thought it would serve the double purpose of showing your boss what you've got that he missed out on and getting away at the same time?”

“Exactly, but unlike you, I did not thoroughly do my homework. I was unprepared for both the hostile environment and the hostile community.”

Bering leaned over and kissed her. “I'd be willing to bet it's probably the only time in your entire life that you have neglected to do your homework.”

“That's probably true.”

“I'm so glad you chose this particular time to become a slacker.”

“Me, too,” she answered with a grin. She reached out and threaded a hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face close to hers. “Bering?”

“Hmm,” he said.

“My turn.”

“Oh? Okay. I thought you were going to kiss me.”

“I may, but first, thank you, Bering. Thank you very much. Now tell me all about it.”

“What?”

“The scarf—I thanked Janie for it tonight, but she let me know that I should really be thanking you. So tell me.”

He grinned and sat back, but entwined his fingers with hers. “Oh...well, I kept watching you at all these events—freezing like crazy—and I kept wondering why you didn't dress appropriately. So, I had my sister knit you the scarf. You probably aren't even aware of it, but you go like this a lot.” He pulled at the collar of his shirt, bunching it up beneath his chin.

“Bering, that is so sweet. But what about the wolf button? It's absolutely gorgeous—a little work of art.”

“That's a piece of whalebone that Kella Jakobs scrimshawed for me. I used to wear it to bring me luck. I love it and I, um, I wanted you to have some small bit of Alaska with you when you went home.” He smiled slowly and hoped the feeling in his heart was showing in his eyes. He admitted, “And I liked the idea of you wearing something that had been mine. So I asked Janie to sew it on. I hope you don't mind that I gave you a used button....”

Emily opened her mouth but no sound emerged. She closed it, stared at him for a minute and then leaned toward him again. “Bering?” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“I am going to kiss you now....”

* * *

E
MILY
 
WAS
 
DEFINITELY
 
warming up to the place, she decided as she stepped out into the frozen morning air. Now that she was dressed for it, she hardly seemed to notice the cold anymore. Even the frigid wind that used to blow down the collar of her jacket had been waylaid by her scarf. She gazed around in wonder; Bering was right, there was a rugged kind of beauty about the place that she was beginning to appreciate, especially when she was out at Bering's cabin watching the wildlife or, even better, out at Bering's cabin watching Bering.

And he'd definitely made it his business to show her the finer points that Rankins had to offer. In addition to sightseeing around his cabin, they'd done more snowshoeing and gone sledding with his nephews. They also went on a double date with Tag and Amanda to the Cozy Caribou for the house sirloin dinner he had promised her. They'd spent more time with his family and she'd met some of his friends.

She had to admit to herself that he had a good life. But she certainly wasn't going to confess these thoughts aloud. She'd already conceded enough to him as it was. Of course, just about anyone's life would be easier if they were as popular in this town as he was. Even the people that she knew were on her side still loved Bering. Laurel had been right about that; it appeared as if the whole James family shared that beloved status, and there had to be close to a hundred of them if you counted up the entire extended family.

And even though she and Bering were clearly waging a battle professionally, they had all treated her with nothing but kindness and respect. So far, Bering had been right—business appeared to be just business where the Jameses were concerned. But Emily still believed that that would all change if—when—Cam-Field won the right to destroy their little town.

Destroy? When exactly she had started to think of this assignment in Bering's terms she wasn't sure, but as the days had passed, she acknowledged that was what she had begun to do. Though she didn't believe it necessarily, she assured herself, she was just getting caught up in the passion and community pride that blazed in the town. It didn't do any good to remind herself that in all her years with Cam-Field, she'd never gotten quite so caught up in it before.