That Wintry Feeling (Debbie Macomber Classics) Page 5

  “Will you cut it out?” The hands cupping her mug tightened until the heat of the coffee burned her palms. Slowly she slacked her grip, focusing her attention on the black liquid. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

  The hesitation was long enough to cause Cathy to raise her eyes and find him studying her long and hard. The laughter lines had disappeared, and his blue gaze had darkened with purpose. A hand lifted to gently caress her cheek. The rough, callused fingers felt strangely smooth against her face. It was so gentle, so sweet, that Cathy succumbed to the swelling tide of warmth building within her and lowered her lashes. When his mouth touched hers, she breathed in slowly and parted her mouth in welcome.

  Peterkins’s sharp bark shattered the moment, and Cathy jerked back in surprise. Grady looked no less unsettled as the dog scampered into the kitchen, slipping on the slick linoleum floor and crashing against Grady’s leg. Quickly regaining his form, Peterkins’s bark was repeated again and again, piercing the quiet.

  “Peterkins!” Cathy shouted. “Stop it! Stop it immediately!”

  He did as she bid with a defiant air, quickly lowering his rump to the floor, and positioned himself at her feet.

  “I didn’t know you had a protector.” Amusement coated Grady’s words.

  Cathy couldn’t prevent a disbelieving stare that darted from her dog back to Grady. “I didn’t, either. I’m as shocked as you.” It stood to reason. Steve had been the only man Peterkins had ever seen kissing her. The dog, in his own way, was laying claim to what he considered to be his other master’s property. The realization knotted a hard lump in Cathy’s stomach.

  “What’s wrong?” Angela’s small voice broke into her thoughts.

  “Peterkins didn’t like me kissing Cathy,” Grady supplied the answer, a laughing glint to his eyes.

  “I didn’t know teachers kissed.” Angela’s attention quickly turned from the black-haired spaniel.

  “Thanks,” Cathy mumbled under her breath to Grady. “I can hear it all over the school grounds Monday.”

  “Some teachers are so special you can’t help kissing them,” Grady said, playfully tugging one long pigtail. “Now, why don’t you tell Cathy what we have planned for today.” He looped one arm over the thin shoulders, bringing his daughter close to his side.

  “Oh, Miss Thompson, it’s so special. Daddy said he’d take us for a long drive through Denali National Park. He said we might see bear and moose and deer and rabbits and maybe a wolf. Won’t you please, please come? Daddy and I have already packed a picnic. Can Peterkins come, too?” A pleading note entered the young voice. Cathy couldn’t remember hearing Angela say so much all at once.

  Indecision swelled within her. The trip sounded wonderful. Ever since moving to Fairbanks she had wanted an opportunity to visit the park. To refuse now would burst Angela’s happy bubble. But to accept would be giving encouragement to an uncertain relationship.

  “Please,” Angela repeated.

  Cathy nodded and laughed, the sound unnatural, almost forced. “All right.”

  “And Peterkins?”

  Cathy caught the humorous sparkle in Grady’s eyes. “Oh, definitely Peterkins.”

  “You feel the need for protection, do you?” he whispered tauntingly. A hand reached out and captured hers, carrying her fingers to his mouth. Immediately alert, Peterkins growled, baring his white teeth.

  Unaccustomed to such behavior from her friendly mutt, Cathy again issued a stern warning.

  After a quick breakfast of orange juice and toast, Cathy gathered her coat and the leash for Peterkins. Accepting Angela’s hand, Cathy was led to the waiting car. The air was crisp and clear, the vast, cloudless blue sky beckoning. Cathy didn’t think there could be a more perfect day for the outing.

  Dog and child were relegated to the backseat, leaning as far forward into the front as possible until Grady instructed everyone to secure their seat belts.

  Happy for the excuse to do something with her hands, Cathy snapped one section of the cold metal clasp into the other, then primly folded her hands on her lap.

  Grady’s roguish glance flickered over her, and he smiled. That was the problem with Grady, Cathy decided. He was too darn handsome for his own good. He expected a woman to be so taken with his male charm that she would fall into his scheme of events. Well, not with her.

  “I’ve got a penny.”

  “For what?” she said quickly, turning her attention to the road.

  “Your thoughts?”

  She laughed lightly, almost disliking him for the way he could read her so easily. “They’re worth a lot more than that.”

  “I’m sure they are.” Lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes.

  “I can’t figure you out, Grady Jones.”

  He looked puzzled. “What’s there to figure?”

  “Plenty,” she murmured, and paused to expel a deep breath, trying not to show how easily he could irritate her. She shifted her position. “I was just beginning to believe that I wouldn’t hear from you again.”

  “I’ve been busy.” The response was clipped, and the muscles of his jaw worked convulsively.

  Cathy arched both brows upward in surprise. Grady didn’t like to account for his time to anyone. It was probably one of the reasons he owned his own business. Probably one of the reasons he claimed his marriage was in trouble before his wife died.

  “Don’t get shook,” she challenged. “I wasn’t exactly sure I wanted to see you again.”

  His laugh was as rich and full as it was unexpected. “There was never any doubt in my mind,” he concluded. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of me before this winter is over, so you might as well get accustomed to it now.”

  “Is that so?” A cold chill ran down her spine. What was it Grady wanted from her? He wasn’t the type of man to idly waste his time on anyone or anything. When he wanted something, he went after it. But what did she have to offer him? Cathy supposed she should feel complimented that Grady was interested in her. Instead, his acknowledgment filled her with a sense of quiet desperation.

  “Have you taken pictures of the pipeline yet?” The question came out of nowhere, slicing into Cathy’s thoughts.

  “No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t.”

  “Good, I brought my camera along. We’ll stop, and I’ll take a few photographs. You can mail some back to Kansas if you like. I imagine your family has never seen anything like this.”

  Several times Cathy had paused to view the huge twisting, curving cylinder that passed a few miles outside of Fairbanks. It was tall and so much larger than what she had expected.

  Grady pulled onto a dirt road that ran alongside the pipeline.

  “Wow!” Cathy shook her head in amazement. Standing on the tips of her toes, she was just able to touch the bottom of its round belly. “I’ve seen it from a distance before, but never this close. I didn’t realize it was this huge.”

  “Huge and expensive,” Grady told her as he lifted Angela above his shoulders so she could touch the silver belly. “Eight billion dollars for the seven hundred and ninety-nine miles that stretch from Prudhoe Bay in the Arctic Ocean to Valdez in the Gulf of Alaska. I believe it works out to something like ten million dollars a mile.”

  “Ten million dollars?” Cathy repeated with a sense of astonished disbelief. “That can’t be right.”

  “But it is,” Grady insisted. “Of course, a lot went into protecting the environment. Those heat exchangers on top of the pillars supporting the pipe serve a dual purpose. First, they protect the permafrost. The heat the oil flowing through the line generates would ruin the permafrost below. If the ground thawed, then the pylons supporting the cylinder would sink and ruin the pipeline.”

  The wind whipped color into her cheeks, and Cathy couldn’t prevent the shiver that raced over her body.

  “Need your coat?” Grady questioned.

  “No. I think I’ve seen about everything I want to see.” One last time, she stood on her toes in an attempt to tou
ch the underbelly.

  “Want me to lift you, too?” Grady’s whispered question was meant for her ears alone.

  “Hardly.”

  His gaze ran over her, blue and glinting, and Cathy chose to ignore him, primly turning her back and returning to the car.

  “Wait a minute,” Grady stopped her. “I want to take your picture.”

  The wind whipped her hair about her face, and while one hand was lifted to her face to pull back the errant strand, Grady snapped the picture.

  “Where are we going now?” Angela questioned from the backseat.

  “Denali,” Grady answered.

  “Goodie.” Happiness sounded in the young voice. “When do we get to see the lions and tigers and bears?”

  “Keep your eyes peeled because there might be some around here.” The words were whispered in such a way as to make her believe something unknown might lurk behind a supporting pylon.

  Cathy turned around and smiled softly when she saw Peterkins was resting contentedly on the seat beside Angela. One paw and his chin were propped across her leg, as if to state she shouldn’t dare move because he was comfortable.

  “I don’t think we need fear lions and tigers and bears as much as one wolf.” Heavy emphasis was placed on the word wolf so that Grady couldn’t doubt that she was referring to him.

  “A wolf?” Grady repeated the word as if it was distasteful. “I’m sure you must mean fox.” He paused and leaned closer to Cathy. “I’ve often been called a fox.”

  “Not by me.” It was important that she set the record straight.

  “Give my obvious charm a while. I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

  Cathy lifted her chin, doing her best to keep from laughing. “Have you got a year?” she teased.

  “Oh, I’ve got time. As far as you’re concerned, there’s all the time in the world.”

  Cathy felt the color flow out of her face as an uncomfortable sensation assaulted her. Grady was doing it again. For a crazy second she wanted to scream at him to stop, leave her alone, give her time to heal after Steve. He was going too fast for her, far too fast.

  A bounty of fall colors was in vast display as they traveled into the park.

  “Are we there, Daddy?” Angela questioned from the backseat.

  “Start looking now,” Grady said. “Any minute you’re likely to see some wildlife.”

  Cathy turned to see the child peering out the side window; her brow, so like her father’s, was narrowed in concentration. Peterkins, two paws against the front seat cushion, was looking out just as intently.

  “During the summer months we wouldn’t be able to make this drive,” Grady said, and motioned to the far left-hand side of the road. “Look,” he said, “there’s a moose.”

  “Where?” Cathy asked excitedly, her eyes frantically searching for the huge mammal.

  “I see it!” Angela cried. “I see it!”

  Peterkins barked with excitement as Angela bounced around in the backseat.

  “Where?” Cathy repeated.

  Grady slipped one arm over her, letting it settle on her shoulder as he drew her close. The other hand was used to direct her gaze in the proper direction. Within seconds Cathy caught sight of the moose, his huge antlers and body blending in beautifully with his surroundings. But it wasn’t the sight of the magnificent beast that had Cathy’s blood pounding in her veins. Being this close to Grady was physically and emotionally exhausting. The temptation was so strong to nestle her face in the curve of his neck that for a moment she closed her eyes.

  “Beautiful, isn’t he?” Grady said, his mouth moving against her hair.

  Cathy nodded, because speaking had suddenly become impossible. A soothing warmth began to spread its way down her arm, and she gently pulled herself from his embrace.

  “Yes … yes, they are.” The words sounded weak, even to herself. “What was it you were saying about not being able to do this during the summer?”

  “That’s right.”

  Uncertain, Cathy glanced at Grady. His voice sounded unnatural, as if his mind wasn’t on her question. “Visitors are bused through the park during the summer months.”

  “Why?”

  Grady’s attention was diverted to the road. “As you’ve probably noticed, this isn’t exactly the best road in Alaska. It’s narrow and difficult to maneuver. In several places, turning a camper or car around would be almost impossible. It’s simpler to drive tourists through instead of allowing thousands of vehicles in.”

  “Sounds that way,” she said, more for something to say than any sign of agreement.

  A couple hours later Angela spotted a brown bear. “Miss Thompson, look,” she exclaimed, pointing wildly out the window. “It’s Yogi Bear.”

  “Or a reasonable facsimile,” Grady added with a chuckle.

  “I thought bears would be hibernating by this time. It’s mid-October,” Cathy whispered, as if she were afraid the sound of her voice would frighten the creature away. “And speaking of bears, you don’t expect me to share my lunch with that fellow, do you?”

  Grady’s responding laugh was filled with humor. “One question at a time, sweet Dorothy from Kansas.”

  “The name’s Cathy,” she reminded him in a chilly tone. The last thing she wanted to be thought of as was a sweet sixteen-year-old desperately seeking a way back home. Her home was Alaska now. The sooner she and everyone around her accepted the fact, the easier it would be.

  “Okay, Cathy.” Her name was issued softly. “Bears hibernate in the winter, not autumn. The one we saw today is fattening herself up for the months ahead. Second, we don’t picnic outside. That would be inviting the attention of our fur-covered friends, and I for one am opposed to sharing my lunch.”

  “I for two,” Angela added.

  “Fine, but if we don’t eat out-of-doors, just where do we picnic?”

  “In the car,” Angela said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Unable to resist, Cathy smiled. “Of course.”

  As promised, Grady provided the lunch an hour later. The fried chicken, biscuits, small dish of coleslaw, and ice-cold pop couldn’t have tasted better. It was all so simple that Cathy marveled that her family hadn’t done something like this themselves. Picnics were always a formal affair for which her mother spent whole days preparing.

  Wiping their fingers with the pre-moistened towelettes enclosed with the chicken, Cathy paused, feeling Grady’s gaze, her fingers clenching and unclenching as her eggshell composure began to feel the strain of his appraisal.

  “You like Alaska, don’t you?”

  “Surprisingly, yes. I wasn’t prepared for the beauty or vastness. I don’t know that anyone really is. From Kansas it sounded like the ends of the earth, which it is, in a manner of speaking.”

  “Why’d you come?”

  She’d been expecting the question for some time. Giving the impression it was of no importance, she shrugged. “It’s a job. If you hadn’t noticed, there aren’t many of those around these days.”

  “I have.” Grady’s tone was faintly dry.

  “Anyway, the position was offered, and I jumped at the chance.”

  “We’ll see how much you love it after the first winter.”

  “I’ll make it.”

  “I’m sure you will.” One dark eyebrow flicked upward. “You, my sweet Cathy, are a survivor.”

  “That I am,” she murmured stiffly, suddenly uneasy with the way the conversation was headed. “And what about you? Are you an implant like me?”

  “Nope, born and raised here all my life. Tried going to school in the lower forty-eight, but I hated it and came back to where the air is clean and land unspoiled.”

  “I was born in Fairbanks,” Angela added, apparently feeling left out of the conversation.

  “At midnight on the coldest night of the year,” Grady added. The creases along the sides of his mouth deepened into a familiar smile. “I darn near brought that girl into the world myself.” />
  “I don’t suppose her mother should be given any credit?” The words were issued in a teasing undertone.

  “As a matter of fact,” Grady said, low and cynically, for her alone, “Pam handled her part as best she could.” He straightened and turned the ignition key. The engine purred to life as he checked the rearview mirror. “I think it’s time for us to head back if we’re going to arrive before dark. Anyone for singing?”

  Pulling onto the road, they’d advanced only a few feet when Cathy heard a bang and hissing sound. “What was that?”

  She witnessed Grady’s eyes close in frustration before he turned toward her, presenting a calm façade. “That, my two helpless females, is a flat tire.”

  Chapter Four

  “Would you care to give me a hand?” Grady asked, as he released the jack, lowering the car to the ground.

  “Sure, anything,” Cathy said, and breathed in relief. “What do you need me to do?”

  Wiping his greasy hands with his white handkerchief, Grady glanced upward, a roguish glint to the deep blue eyes. “I was hoping you’d applaud.”

  Both Cathy and Angela were clapping wildly and laughing when the creases around his mouth suddenly hardened and a wary light was reflected in his gaze.

  “Get inside the car.” The order was given with a frightening undertone.

  Without question, Cathy helped Angela into the backseat and securely shut the door before jerking open her own. A second later, Grady joined her in the front seat.

  “What’s the matter?” Cathy whispered, her heart hammering at the coiled alertness she felt coming from Grady.

  “There’s a brown bear about thirty yards ahead, moving toward us. I think the time has come for us to make our exit.”

  “Peterkins!” Cathy looked around her frantically. Her hand flew to the door handle. “We can’t leave without Peterkins.” Her voice was high-pitched and filled with anxiety.

  Grady stopped her before she could open the door. “It would be crazy to go out there now. You’d only be attracting trouble.”

  “I don’t care,” she insisted, jerking herself free.

  The harsh grip of his hand bit into her shoulder. “No,” he said, and shoved her against the seat. “If anyone gets him, it’ll be me.”