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Shelter Me Home(27)

By:T. S. Joyce


"What now?" she asked as he held the passenger door open for her.

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. After shutting the door, he  rounded the truck, hopped in and turned the engine. "I don't know.  Nothing has changed with our situation, except that maybe we know more  about what the other is feeling now. Erin still has leverage." His warm  hand slid over her thigh, and he gave her a serious look. "She's cooking  up revenge."

"I know. It'll be hard going back to ignoring each other, though. I feel … different about you."

A slow and sexy smile took his face. "Me, too. What do you think we should do?"

"Until I figure out when and what I'm going to tell Miles, and you save  up money for a lawyer, we have to at least appear indifferent to each  other. At least anywhere Erin possibly has eyes."

"It's going to be a while on saving up. Like I told you, she has child  support set so high, she's getting everything from me right now. And as  soon as the snow hits for winter, construction jobs will dry up. If we  can keep the cattle fed this winter, and we don't have to butcher any,  selling the herd will get me closer. I just can't do it right now when  we're going into winter and don't know if we'll need them."

"I have five hundred and thirty dollars in my suitcase. We can add that to the savings."

"Hell no are you helping me with this. It wouldn't feel right." He  gestured to her stomach. "You have your own baby to save for. No. I have  to do this on my own."

"Okay. It's just …  I'd like to be able to hold your hand in public."

He laced his fingers with hers and brought her knuckles up to his lips.  "We will. Someday this will all be behind us, and we will. And we'll  never take it for granted because we know how hard things were in the  beginning. We're just going to have to work hard and be patient."                       
       
           



       

"I don't like feeling like I'm another man's secret."

His eyes swam with emotion. "I never want to make you feel like that. I'd be proud to have you on my arm. But my son-"

"I know." And she did. Dodge was an amazing kid, and she'd never want to  be the one to ruin Aanon's chances to watch his boy grow up.

As the big house bumped into view, she squeezed his hand and enjoyed the last few moments of unencumbered affection.





Chapter Thirteen


With the palm of her hand resting on the sorest part of her lower back,  Farrah stirred the bear stew in the iron skillet so it wouldn't scorch  on the bottom. She'd never had cause to actually cook bear before, but  from the mouthwatering aroma that filled her small home, she'd been  missing out on something delectable.

The steady rhythm of wood being chopped had calmed an hour before, and  when she fed the cattle, Aanon had been working in the barn. He filled  her head. Everywhere she wandered or worked, she looked for him. He'd  offered her a wave and a smile this morning but had kept his distance.  Who could blame him? She was a giant risk to the most important part of  his life-Dodge. Still, trying to convince her heart she needed to stay  away only made it yearn to latch onto him with vice-like determination.

A knock sounded at the door, and her heart hammered in her chest. The  pan made a scraping sound as she removed it from the heat. When she  opened the barrier that stood between her and Aanon, a shy smile tugged  his lips. He carried a large, rectangular piece of furniture under his  arm.

"Look, don't take this as me pressuring you either way," he said. "Your  decision on whether to keep your child is up to you, but if you do, I  imagine you'll need a place for the baby to sleep."

"Come in," she said, eyes glued to the hand carved planks and polished wood grain of the bassinet.

"If I'm overstepping, just tell me. My mom and dad made this for me  before I was born. It was always meant to be passed on through our  family, but Erin said she didn't want Dodge sleeping in something so  primitive. I completely understand if you think the same-"

"Stop," she said, resting a hand on his tensed forearm. "It's beautiful."

His eyes dropped to the crib, and his voice lowered to a whisper. "I  just thought while you live here, you could use this. If you want to."

This was the moment. She'd been in deep with Aanon for a while. Hell, if  she was completely honest, she'd carried feelings for him since high  school, but this was the exact moment she would always remember. The  moment when she knew without a doubt, she loved him.

"You aren't overstepping any bounds with me, Aanon. Could you set it by my bed?"

With a nod, he placed it near the head of the bed, then squatted and  rearranged until he seemed satisfied. His fingers brushed the smooth  surface, and when he looked up at her, his eyes swam with some emotion  she was helpless to interpret. "It's hard staying away from you now," he  admitted, standing. He towered over her like some ancient oak,  steadfast and strong.

"I'm going to call Miles and tell him," she blurted. She'd thought about  it and made the decision this morning. "I can't stand Erin having  anything else on you, and I know it bothers you that my life could be  changed by her vengeance. Wielding Dodge like a weapon is enough. If I  tell Miles, her threats about him are hollow."

Leaning against her dresser, he cocked his head to the side. "Do you think he'll come here and make trouble for you?"

Sighing wearily, she gestured to the small dining table in the corner. "You hungry? I made stew."

"Starving."

Heat rushed her cheeks as he pulled one of the chairs out and waited for  her to sit before he spooned two heaping bowls of the hearty broth and  set one in front of her. Steam wafted from the soup, and she unfolded a  paper napkin and placed it in her lap, stalling.

"I don't know what he'll do or how he'll react. I'm out of my element  with him. I thought I knew him better than anyone else in the world, but  he had this entire other life, you know? How could I possibly think I  could guess anything about him now?"

Reaching across the table, he squeezed her hand, his gaze filled with  promise as it held hers. "I'll never let anything happen to you or the  baby."

He believed what he said. The fire in his eyes proved it. But she  couldn't help but remember how far Miles's reach stretched in the city.  He was powerful. Much more powerful than Aanon could know.

She gripped his hand back and tried to smile around the nausea climbing  the back of her throat. "Everything will work out." God, she wished she  was half as confident as she sounded. "And besides. As much as I wish it  wasn't so, Miles is this baby's father. No matter what mistakes he made  with me, he still has a right to know. I just wanted to think  everything through and get over some of the hurt before I came to a  conclusion either way. Would you mind if I borrow your cell phone  sometime? I doubt Briney would let me put a call to New York from the  bar."                       
       
           



       

"Of course. You can use my phone whenever you want." He took his first  bite of stew and closed his eyes like he was hearing the first note of a  long forgotten song. "Jesus, Farrah. This is amazing. Where did you  learn to make this?"

Pride filled her until a bubble of excitement threatened to spill from  her mouth. Swallowing before she responded, she said, "I checked out a  book from the library that had the recipe in it."

"You and that library," he said before blowing on another steaming spoonful of meat, broth, and carrots.

"It's nice to spend time there again. I practically lived there when I was in school. Reading was my escape."

"Were things really so bad for you?"

"I lived," she said dryly as visions of taking care of Mom for all those  years threatened to spill into her mood. Someday she'd tell him  everything. She'd let Aanon see everything about her, but not today.  Today she wanted to ride the high of his priceless gift that sat ready  and waiting by her bed. Talking about the past didn't make things  better. They only brought back memories she'd long since buried.

"I like you better with dark hair," he said suddenly, but the flush in his cheeks said he wished he could take the words back.

Surprised, she dropped her gaze to the bowl in front of her. "I thought blond would've been more your type."

"Hair color doesn't make a difference. You're different, Farrah. In the best ways, you're different."

If her life depended on it, she couldn't help the smile that took her  face. That was absolutely the nicest thing any man had ever said to her.

"So, I've been thinking about what happened yesterday. In the woods."