Under the Northern Lights Page 16

  The weight against the door increased in strength, then a voice said, “Mallory? Are you blocking the door?”

  I immediately scooted away so Michael could open the door. The loss of resistance was so sudden that Michael burst through the door like a bullet being released from a gun. He ran into my legs and nearly tumbled to the ground on top of me, but thankfully, he managed to save himself at the last minute.

  Concern darkened his expression as he spotted me huddled on the ground, clutching my rifle to my chest. “What happened?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

  Nodding, I struggled to my feet. Every inch of me still felt doughy, insubstantial, like I was a doll and not a real person. “Yes, I’m fine. I came back to the cabin, and there was a . . . a wolf. I guess I didn’t secure the latch well enough. I’m so sorry, Michael. It wrecked . . . everything.”

  Michael’s eyes shifted to take in the chaos surrounding us. When his gaze returned to me, I expected to see anger, but all I saw was relief. “This is just stuff, Mallory. I’m just glad you’re okay. You’re the one thing I can’t replace,” he said. Then his arms slid around me, and he was holding me tight to him.

  His words warmed me as much as his embrace, and slowly, I felt the terror subsiding. I was tired, though, tired of having survival so close to the surface, tired of facing my mortality at every corner. Like he could sense my bone-chilling exhaustion, Michael ran his hand up and down my back, murmuring encouragement. “It’s okay. You’re okay . . . we’re okay.”

  I could feel the tears welling, could feel the sadness and homesickness seeping in, but I fought it off as best I could. “We should . . . clean this up.” My voice felt tight, like any moment it might snap.

  Pulling back, Michael shook his head. “I’ve got this, Mallory.” Taking the gun from my stiff fingers, he softly said, “I’ll make you a bath, and while you’re relaxing, I’ll clean this up.”

  I skewed my lips at him. “How is that fair? I’m the reason the wolf got inside. I should clean this up.” Then I should replace everything I’d allowed to get destroyed. Somehow.

  Michael smiled at me. “It’s fair because you’re the one who is upset. You’re the one who faced down a wolf. I’m fine, and I’m more than happy to relinquish my bath night for you, if it will ease your mind.” Rubbing my arms, he added, “And besides, this way I’ll be able to keep my beard another day.” He stroked the long strands while he gave me my favorite uninhibited smile. I couldn’t help but return his infectious grin.

  “Fine, but don’t get too attached to that thing. You, me, and that beard have a date with a pair of scissors soon.” Saying the word date made me want to cringe, but Michael didn’t react to my choice of words. He just kept smiling at me like all was right in the world, even though everything was in some state of disrepair, if not total destruction.

  Before we separated, Michael bent down and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. It sent a rush through me, the good kind, that made facing down a vicious animal almost seem worth it. Almost. I didn’t want him to walk away, didn’t want to give up the comfort of our connection, but Michael was on a mission, and it was clear nothing was going to stop him until he had me soaking away my worries in a tub.

  While he warmed pot after pot of water, I tried to help clean up the cabin. He shooed me away each time with a gentle slap on my arm. “Stop it, or I might have to spank you,” he told me.

  My face heated at his words, and Michael instantly looked away. “I mean . . . never mind,” he said, clearly embarrassed. It made an ooey-gooey sort of feeling go through me whenever he was embarrassed by his words. He could be fierce and protective one minute, then wholesome and adorable the next. It was an intriguing combination, one I had to admit that I really, really liked. It made the thought of leaving him all the harder. If only he rubbed me the wrong way . . . instead of all the right ways.

  Once the tub was full of steaming water, Michael gave me a triumphant smile. “Your bath, milady.”

  Rolling my eyes, I giggled at his sweet, outdated phrase. “Thank you, sir.”

  He was intently staring at me, his eyes locked on mine, and the longer our gazes held, the more I felt a wondrous warmth blossoming inside me. It was difficult to keep my distance, difficult not to kiss him, but I had a feeling if I did, I wouldn’t want to stop. Forcing myself to look away, I murmured, “I should change before the water gets cold.”

  I hoped he got the hint on his own, and I wouldn’t have to ask him to leave; after everything that had happened today, I didn’t think I could utter the words. Michael cleared his throat before speaking. “Right, I’ll just . . . step outside.”

  He turned to leave, and I grabbed his arm. “You don’t have to stay . . . out there. There’s a lot to do in here, and we haven’t even had dinner yet. You can come back . . . if you want to get started on that stuff.”

  I felt dumber with every word leaving my mouth, but I hated the thought of him killing time outside when there was so much to do—stuff he wouldn’t let me help him with. And besides, if I was going to cut his hair in the tub, then we were going to have to get used to this. Might as well start today.

  Michael looked me over, and I could see the confliction in his eyes. He wanted to stay, but he didn’t want things between us to progress any further than they had. He wanted to stay the course. I did too. For now. After another moment’s consideration, he finally nodded. “Okay, Mallory. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  Another giddy rush swept over me as he stepped out the door. He’d be back. And I’d be naked. And just the thought of him being in the same room with me when I was that exposed had my body tingling with anxious energy.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Placing my toe into the tub was like stepping into a vat of lava, but in a good way. It soothed every ache, eased every scrap of residual fear, made life seem glorious again. The feeling amplified in intensity as I lowered the rest of my body into the water. Nirvana.

  As I was laying my head back on the rim, getting as comfortable as I could and letting the stresses of the day melt off me, I heard the door slowly creaking open. A slight tremor of fear rippled through me, as the wolf encounter was again at the forefront of my mind, but Michael’s voice quickly broke the stillness.

  “Are you . . . decent? Can I come in?”

  Considering that my legs were hanging out the other side of the tub and my chest was barely covered by the startlingly clear water, I didn’t feel very decent, but I let him enter all the same. “Yeah . . . come on in.”

  My heart started beating harder when he stepped through the door. Even though we weren’t about to go there, I felt like I was celebrating my wedding night or I was about to lose my virginity again; the air was thick with tension.

  Michael avoided looking directly at me as he came inside, but his eyes made quick flashes my way every so often. Knowing he was seeing bits and pieces of my bare flesh made my skin feel electric. “I’ll just be . . . cleaning. Don’t mind me.”

  The way every inch of me felt alive, I knew that ignoring his presence would be about as possible as ignoring the wolf earlier; he just seemed to fill the cabin. Closing my eyes, I tried anyway. Eliminating my vision amplified my other senses, and I could hear every bump, scrape, and grunt that came from his direction. With the aural play-by-play, it was almost like I could see him, and I smiled as I relaxed into the water. This wasn’t so bad.

  But then a few short seconds later, I felt his hand touch my arm. “Mallory?”

  Jerking away, I instantly crossed my arms over my chest and looked up to see him right beside the tub, doing his best not to look in the water. “Michael?” I asked, my heart thudding in my ears. Why was he so close to me? While I was naked? Wasn’t that against our . . . guidelines?

  “You fell asleep in the water,” he said, his eyes only briefly flicking to my face. “I tried to make as much noise as I could, but you were really out. I didn’t want the water to freeze on you, so I thought I better wake you up.”

/>   “Oh,” I said, stretching muscles that I was surprised to find were tight. “I guess I was more exhausted than I thought.” Peeking around, I saw that the cabin was mostly put back together. The water in the tub was also just below lukewarm. How long had I been out? “I guess I should . . . get out,” I said, tightening my grip around my chest.

  Michael flashed me a brief smile, and his cheeks heated in such a way that I began to have a sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t been as cautious with his gazes when I’d been asleep. Just the thought of his eyes on me made that glorious tingle return in force. “I’ll go wait outside,” he murmured.

  “Okay,” I whispered, kind of wishing he’d stay.

  Once he was gone, I let out a yelp and dunked my head under the water. It was way too cold now for that, but it helped clear my head. I couldn’t want those things with Michael. Or at least I shouldn’t want them. I also shouldn’t want a gigantic hot fudge sundae with a mountain of whipped cream and sprinkles on it, but I did. Some desires just couldn’t be helped.

  Not wanting Michael to catch me while I was changing and also starting to get really cold, I hopped out of the tub and quickly got into dry clothes. I was just using the tub to clean a few of my dirty outfits when Michael came back into the cabin with some moose steaks and potatoes. “At least the wolf didn’t break into the meat shed,” he said. “That would have been a disaster.”

  Hearing him say that made me cringe. “I hate to sound like a broken record, but I am so, so sorry. I promise that won’t happen again.”

  Michael gave me an easy grin as he set the meat down. “I know. I let a couple of squirrels in once. That’s how I learned to triple-check the latch.”

  “Lesson learned,” I told him with a smile. Lesson definitely learned.

  The next few days were some of the best days of my life. Even though half of Michael’s stuff was ruined, and most of the rest was in poorer shape than it had been before the wolf attack, things in the cabin were . . . wonderful. Michael was warm, funny, thoughtful. He always invited me to go with him on the traplines and always said he missed me when I couldn’t go. Each day that I had with him was opening something incredible inside me, something I wanted to share with him and keep sharing with him. And even though I was pretty sure what his answer would be, I had to ask anyway.

  “So . . . ,” I began while he dealt us a round of crib one evening. “My plane was destroyed in the crash, as you know. I won’t be able to afford another one for a while.”

  Michael frowned as he set the last card down; it had puncture marks through it. “Yeah . . . I figured that would be something you’d have to save for. I wish I could help you.”

  I gave him a bright smile. “You can help me.”

  His face instantly grew suspicious, but it was a playful look, almost amused. “I hope you’re not about to ask for my plane. Because I do need to run into town a few times a year, and having to call you every time I need to borrow it would be damn inconvenient. I don’t exactly have a phone, and my smoke signals are hit and miss.” He smiled, and his pale eyes sparkled with joy.

  With a small laugh, I shook my head. “No . . . I was thinking you could fly down and visit me sometimes. My town has supplies too.” His bush plane was far too small for a trip that long, but he could fly to Fairbanks and take a commercial flight to me.

  The look on his face instantly changed, morphed into one of pain . . . and anger. “You know why I can’t do that, Mallory.”

  He picked up his cards and studied them, like the conversation was over. I knew I shouldn’t press him, but I hated the thought of this peace we’d found ending soon. Spring would begin thawing the earth around us in just a handful of weeks, and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. “I’m not saying you have to stay, Michael. I live in the country. You wouldn’t even have to talk to anyone but me . . . except at the airport, but that’s a small price to pay to—”

  Snapping his eyes up, he cut me off. “I won’t leave the state, Mallory. Wherever you want me to go, no matter how isolated you think it is, it’s still too many people for my taste.”

  “Even if it means seeing me?” I asked, my heart ripping.

  A worn sigh escaped Michael as his head dropped. “I knew we shouldn’t have started this. I knew I’d hurt you . . .”

  Panic made me force brightness into my voice. “I’m not hurt. I don’t regret us, and I don’t want this to end.” Fearful that he was retreating from me, I reached out and grabbed his hand. “I was just hoping . . . you would visit me. It was just a question—that’s all.”

  His penetrating eyes studied me, searching for a lie, and I worked as hard as I could to keep my expression the same. Don’t notice the crack forming in my heart. Don’t say something that will make it expand even faster than it needs to.

  After a while, he finally nodded. “Then I guess . . . to answer your question . . . no, I’m sorry. I won’t be visiting you.” A sad smile cracked his lips. “Although I can already tell there will be nights that I’ll want to. Most nights, I think.”

  My heart started seizing and beating harder all at the same time. He looked so sad, so desperate to connect, and yet at the same time, he absolutely refused to step foot outside his social comfort zone. It broke my heart even more than the idea of our upcoming separation. Who will make your eyes glow when I’m gone?

  I fingered my cross necklace, saying a silent prayer for this broken man who meant so much to me. Michael’s eyes followed my movement, and like he knew what I was doing, he quietly said, “Do you pray for me?”

  “Every day,” I said with a nod. Michael bit his lip, and I could see the questions brewing in his eyes. “What?” I asked.

  He pointed a finger at my necklace. “What do you pray for when you pray for me?”

  “I pray for a lot of things. Your health, your safety . . . your happiness . . .”

  I could almost see the irritation rolling up his spine, his hackles rising like a wolf’s. “You think God cares about our happiness?”

  Inhaling a deep breath, I nodded again. “Yes, I do.”

  Michael looked away, and I thought he was going to drop the topic he hated discussing. He surprised me, though, by returning his eyes to mine. “Then why does he let so many bad things happen? Why does he tolerate thieves, rapists . . . killers?” His eyes hardened with every word he spoke. “Why does he allow such horrible things to happen to such good people?”

  I slowly let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. “Because he gave us free will. Because he didn’t want mindless automatons who loved him simply because we were told to love him. He gave us the freedom to choose to love him and his creations . . . or not to. And maybe that was a mistake, but if you think about it, what else could he do?”

  Michael looked away again, but I could see him swallowing the lump in his throat; he was on the edge of an emotional cliff, about to go over, and I didn’t want him to go over alone. I clasped his hand tight, tears stinging my eyes. “Trust me, Michael: he is mourning what happened to your wife right along with you . . . and he’s taking very good care of her for you.”

  His eyes returned to mine, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “Do you think so?” he whispered.

  Leaping out of my chair, I tossed my arms around his neck. “Yes,” I said into his skin. “I believe it with everything inside me. She’s safe and happy.”

  Michael sighed as he held me back, and I felt a world of tension releasing from him with the exhale. He was silent for several long minutes, and even though my back hurt and my legs started cramping, I didn’t let him go. Finally, when I thought I was about to get a charley horse I wouldn’t be able to ignore, Michael pulled back. “Thank you, Mallory. That was surprisingly . . . therapeutic.”

  Smiling, I straightened and massaged my back. “I don’t suppose that changed your mind?”

  Michael stood with me, his face reflecting his inner peace. Twisting me around, he pushed my hands away and started rubbing my back for m
e. “No . . . it didn’t,” he said, his voice equally calm.

  A small laugh escaped me as I enjoyed his ministrations. “Didn’t think so . . . but I had to ask.” A deep laugh rumbled through his chest, and then his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me tight.

  The heat emanating from his body was as soothing as the steel strength of his arms. Even though the world we were immersed in was treacherous, I’d never felt so safe. Thinking of the lurking beasts waiting in the darkness for their chance to devour us made me think of the wolf who’d penetrated our defenses. Worn dishes and broken containers were a constant reminder. A thought occurred to me while that moment swam through my head, and I twisted in Michael’s arms so I was facing him. “Did your photo survive the . . . wolf invasion?”

  Biting my lip, I hoped he knew which photo I meant. I also hoped the creature hadn’t destroyed it. I didn’t think I could survive that level of guilt. Michael’s warm eyes drifted over my face, his smile serene. “Yeah . . . it’s fine.”

  Relief flooded me so fast my knees felt like they might buckle. “Oh good . . . I didn’t think I could deal with something—”

  Before I could finish my sentence, Michael lowered his mouth to mine. “The way you care for me . . . makes it hard to resist you,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing against me as he spoke.

  A rush of desire sprang to life inside me, nearly burning me with its intensity. “Then don’t.” I wasn’t sure what I meant by those words, but it was too late to take them back.

  Michael minutely pulled away to look me in the eyes, and I saw the same desire heating in him. It scared me a little, but it excited me more. We couldn’t cave—we shouldn’t cave—but God . . . if we did, it would be . . . explosive.

  I leaned up, silently begging Michael to kiss me again. He lowered his lips back to mine, answering my unspoken request. Fire raged through me as our mouths moved together. Everything about him felt so right, like we were meant to be together. Like it was fate. And wasn’t it? I should have died in that crash, but I didn’t. I landed safely in the middle of nowhere, no one around for hundreds of miles . . . but him. If that wasn’t divine influence, then there truly was no such thing.