Rekindled (4 page)

Gemma sat next to Jocelyn, in the passenger seat of her friend's SUV,
hands cupped around a travel mug of coffee, as they inched along in
bumper-to-bumper traffic. A song about reunited lovers played from the car's
speakers, and further cemented Adam as the focus of her concentration.

The way their hands linked together, the way they'd almost kissed,
played through her mind on continual repeat. The pull of him, the draw, so hard
to resist, but was it worth the risk of getting burned?

He hadn't been at the job site when she arrived with lunch earlier
in the day. Jocelyn mentioned that the firm's other projects kept him busy
elsewhere. The stab of disappointment lingered longer than she'd expected.

Jocelyn heaved a sigh and turned off the main road. "Thanks
again for coming with me. My dad likes us to have an extra person with us when
we interview prospective families."

"No problem. After all you've done for me, I'm happy I was
able to do something for you. I liked watching how you picked the next family
to benefit from the home repair fund."

"I'm sorry the trip back is taking so long. We should have
been home over an hour ago."

"I just hope Bear's behaving himself and not causing trouble.
Connor was sweet to keep an eye on him so I could go with you. I don't want him
to regret it." She glanced at the clock. Bear didn't like being apart from
her for long periods of time. The vet's diagnosis of separation anxiety solved
the mystery of why her sweet pet turned into a destructive animal when she
wasn't around.

"Please, those guys love having Bear at the job site."
Jocelyn pulled into the Hudson Contractors office parking lot. The building's
inside lights were off.

Gemma scanned the empty parking lot. "Connor said he’d meet
us here. Do you think they got stuck at the site?"

Jocelyn pulled out her phone and dialed. Within seconds, Connor's
voice came on the line. "Hello?"

"Hey." She put him on speaker. "Where are you and
Bear?"

"I got called in to bartend tonight, so Adam said he'd take
Bear home. He stopped by the site right after you left."

Gemma gripped her mug and turned to Jocelyn. "Where does he
live?"

She pocketed her phone. "He bought the Old Miller cabin, up
on Hidden Road."

"I have to get there. Bear's been with him for hours now. The
last time we were apart for this long, he broke down my kitchen door and
destroyed the pantry."

The engine revved as Jocelyn swung the car out of the parking lot.
"We'll be at my place in five minutes. You can grab your car and head up.
I'd go with you, but I have a date tonight."

After stopping at Jocelyn's to pick up her car and Adam's coat,
Gemma drove through town. Late afternoon sun dipped low, casting streams of
pinks and purples across the sky. The winding road led her up a steep incline,
through a thick thatch of towering pines until finally, the house came into
view. Light streamed from a few windows on the lower level of the large, rustic
log cabin.

She parked in the driveway and surveyed the place he called home.
Remote, private, surrounded by trees. Frosty winds whistled through the
branches. She grabbed his coat from the backseat, then rushed up the walk and
knocked on the door. No response. She knocked again, harder. Still no response.

When the wind died down, faint strands of rock music pulsed in a
steady beat. Following the sound, she stamped her numbing toes around to the
back of the house. Light gleamed from a room constructed mostly of windows.
Gemma peered inside.

A treadmill, an elliptical machine, free weights, and a rowing
machine filled the space. Bear lay on the floor in the corner. He was safe, and
behaving himself. Nothing appeared ripped up or destroyed. Her anxiety eased.

In the room's center, Adam stood, shirtless, lifting weights. Blue
sweatpants with the Storm's logo hung low on his hips. Sweat dripped down his
chest. Sculpted muscles flexed with every repetition.

Her fingers itched to touch. Her body remembered, too well, how
his strength used to surround her. She rapped on the window hard enough to
shake the glass. The weights fell to the floor, and he whipped around. His
glare faded with recognition and lightened into a smile. He jerked his thumb
toward the front of the house. Pinpricks of nervous energy dotted her skin. She
jogged to the front door.

When Adam opened the door, warmth and light flowed out. He tugged
a sweatshirt over his torso. "Thanks for bringing that back."

She handed over his coat. "We were stuck in traffic. I'm so
sorry you had to take Bear home with you."

Bear pushed past Adam's legs. She knelt to accept the dog's
greeting, then stood, and grabbed hold of his collar. "Did he behave
himself?"

"He's been great. I like having him around."

"Are you sure he didn't damage anything? Maybe you should
double-check." Images of ruined shoes, chewed up couches, and ransacked
rooms jumped into her mind. "He can get pretty destructive if I'm away
from him for too long."

Adam beckoned her inside. "Come in. See for yourself."

 He set his coat on a chair and she slipped off her own. The
rustic theme continued inside the house. Wide-planked polished wooden floors
and walls, vaulted ceilings with exposed wooden beams, and a large stone
fireplace in the living room. "Nice place."

"I bought it two years ago. My escape from California."
He shrugged and led her into the kitchen. Appliances gleamed from either
obsessive cleaning or lack of use. Judging by Adam's behavior when they were
together, Gemma voted for the latter.

"Drink?"

"Sure. Coffee, if you have it." So far, nothing appeared
damaged. She mentally applauded her dog for his good behavior.

Bear stood in front of her, tilted his head, and let out two short
barks. She glanced at Adam. "He needs to go out."

"Let me grab his leash first. The yard isn't fenced in."
He ducked out of the room, then returned a few moments later and handed her the
leash and her coat.

Murmuring a thanks for this thoughtfulness, she slid into the coat
and secured the leash to Bear’s collar. “All set.”

Adam opened the door to the backyard. A rush of cold air blasted
into the room. Bear pulled her to the middle of the yard, then stopped and
nosed his way around the wide open space.

Gemma wrapped her arms around her middle and shifted her weight
from one foot to the other in a useless attempt to ward off the chill. The cold
didn't seem to bother Adam as much. He stood, legs splayed, arms crossed, as he
watched Bear.

After a few minutes, she tugged the leash. "Let's go,
boy."

Bear trotted to her, then danced away. They went through the
charade twice more before she threw up her arms and turned to Adam. "I'm
sorry. When he gets like this, I usually leave him out for a bit. It's easier
than trying to pull him away. You can go in if you want."

He pointed to the stake in the ground on the side of the yard.
"The previous owners left this. We can attach the leash to it so Bear can
run around, and we can stay warm."

She secured the dog and followed Adam inside the house. He gave
her the tour of the rooms Bear had visited. In his den, several baseball
trophies lined one wall. She walked closer to examine them. Behind one, a photo
of herself stuck out, tucked between the trophy and a baseball.

"What's this?" She pulled out the picture. It was of her
and Adam. They stood on the pitcher's mound at the Trappers’ field, their arms
wrapped around each other. The stadium was empty but the lights were still on.
The scoreboard behind them spelled out: 
Congratulations Adam. Good luck
in the show.

The memory of that night came back to her. During the game, word
came down that he'd been called up to the majors to pitch for the Storm. One of
his teammates mentioned the news to the scoreboard guy, and as soon as the game
ended, the sign lit up the field.

She raised her gaze to his face. "I remember that
night."

"Me, too. Celebrating with you was the best part." He
stood so close to her, she could feel the warmth from his skin. When his hand
closed over her shoulder, a reminder of how much she missed his touch, she
nearly leaned into him.

"That was a long time ago." He'd left for Sacramento the
following day, and in the weeks that followed, never asked her to join him. If
he’d loved her, he would have. She tucked the photo back in its place and
glanced out the window. Daylight faded and clouds rolled in. "I have to
go."

He nodded and stepped back. She kept glancing at him as they
walked into the kitchen. How much had changed over the years and how much
stayed the same?

The door opened with a faint squeak. Braced for the cold, she
stepped into the yard. Bear wasn't there. His leash lay on the ground by the
stake, the metal clasp attachment for the collar broken. A chill spread over
her skin to the deepest parts of her bones. "Bear?"

No jingling collar, no excited bark. No sign of her dog. Her
stomach dropped and then iced with fear. Cupping her hands around her mouth,
she yelled, "Bear?"

Adam came up behind her.

She turned around. "He never wanders off."

"There are a million new smells and things for him to investigate
here. Maybe he saw a fox."

A wolf's howl, sounding all too close, sent shivers down her
spine. "He's out there all alone. What if he gets attacked? I have to find
him."

She started for the woods.

"Wait." Adam's hand closed around her forearm. "We
need coats and flashlights."

Her about-face brought her into his chest. She inhaled his
familiar scent and comfort battened down the worry rumbling in her head.
“You’re coming with me?”

He stared at her, brow cocked as though she’d just asked the most
basic question in the world. “Coats, hats, and gloves. Now.”

She rushed inside and tugged on her coat. Her fingers fumbled on
the buttons. "He's not used to this weather."

"He has a thick fur coat. He's probably loving the
snow." Adam handed her a flashlight and then pulled a red knit cap over
her hair.

"I know, I know, but he's not used to these surroundings.
He's been with me every day for the last four years. I don't want anything to
happen to him." Impatient, she waited while he zipped up his jacket and tugged
on gloves. "Let's go."

He reached into a closet and thrust a pair of gloves three sizes
too big into her hands. "Wearing them is a better option than getting
frostbite."

Within seconds, they returned to the yard. Adam beamed his
flashlight over the snow-covered lawn. Paw prints ran in circles around the
stake, then a single set headed into a cluster of pines. "We'll find him.
There's a hiking trail over here. Looks like he headed that way."

They followed the prints. Snow crunched under her feet. The longer
they walked on the trail, the thicker the woods became. Stinging, strong winds
blew in their faces, stealing breath, carrying away their calls, slowing their
progress. Thick snowflakes began to fall.

Wolves howled in the distance. Could Bear defend himself if he
crossed paths with one? Could they? Gemma aimed her flashlight at the trees,
then looked over her shoulder. The scene seemed too silent, too still, like
something hidden in the shadows waited to pounce. The hair on the back of her
neck lifted. She shifted closer to Adam's side. "They hunt in packs, don't
they?"

He stopped walking and caught her hand in his. "I won't let
anything happen to you, or Bear. I promise." The determination in his
voice and the intensity of his gaze inspired her to believe him. He wrapped his
arm around her shoulders. "We'll find him."

The path widened and curved around a section of boulders taller
than Adam. Gemma leaned into his steady support and ducked her head against the
wind.

"Bear." Adam's voice snapped in a low, harsh tone. His
hand curled around her arm and halted her progress.

"Where is he?" She raised her head.

Her elation turned to fear.

Thirty feet in front of them, a black bear stood on its haunches.

Her mind screamed that this was winter. Bears should be hibernating.
At once, information on how to survive an encounter flooded through her brain.
Growing up in the Catskills, the likelihood of encountering a bear was a real
concern. It had never happened to her, and the sight of the animal so close to
them paused her heartbeat. Her limbs locked and her body refused to obey her
mind's commands.

 The bear dropped down on all fours and swatted the ground
with its front paw.

Adam shifted in front of her and widened his shoulders.
"Don't make eye contact. Tilt your head down."

Gemma's muscles tensed and she fought the urge to run. Running
wasn’t smart. "Adam."

His head didn't turn to look at her. "Turn sideways at an
angle. Back up, slow. No sudden movements. No running." His firm command
seemed to be addressed to both her and the animal.