Chilled by Death (15 page)

“Hey, I’m just saying…”

“Saying what?”

“Saying you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve for the world to see.”

“Damn it.” That was the last thing he wanted to hear. His misery should be private.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Except George already knew. That meant Kathleen knew. So who else?

He started to turn away when Stevie added, “Of course with the competition, I’d watch your back.”

Royce stopped and stared at him. “What competition?”

Stevie tossed his pack on his shoulder and headed in the direction of the group. “Geoffrey. That guy is mad about Stacy.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Stevie called back. “He watches her almost as much as you do.”

*

Not bloody likely.
No one watched her as much as he did. Of course he’d kept it from everyone else. That was part of the game. They were all so damn stupid. Simple. They couldn’t see the viper in their midst. He laughed out loud, uncaring if they heard him. He’d been doing this for a while now. He was good at it. The others weren’t stupid. They were actually very smart. It was just that he was so good he made them
look
like fools.

Stacy was the smartest of the lot. Only she’d not been around for a long time, so she would have missed the subtle nuances of the group dynamics over the last few years. It would be interesting if he could fool her as easily as he had the others.

Obviously he still could. But would her multiple degrees make any difference when the chips were down?

He doubted it.

B
ack at the
cabin, the atmosphere was slightly louder than normal as those that had elected to return hashed over the identity of the man. And why’d he’d be there of all places.

Stacy knew that too often people did a lot of stupid things for even more stupid reasons. There wasn’t much that humans did that could surprise her anymore. Of course, what they did to each other was often worse.

As she entered, leaving her gear and outer clothing outside, there was an awkward silence as if they’d been caught gossiping. She smiled at everyone. “Stevie and Royce have gone to meet up with the other group.”

Silence.

“I didn’t think he’d leave her alone,” muttered Yvonne.

Stacy stiffened slightly, pretending to not hear. What she’d heard just confirmed Stevie’s earlier words. So it was more than just him that had noticed.

“The coffeepot is full if you’re looking for hot coffee,” Kathleen said quietly.

“Thanks.” She filled the teakettle and put it on the stove, too. She actually would love a mocha but wasn’t sure if anyone had brought hot chocolate. She certainly hadn’t thought that far ahead.

She realized as she’d stared at the kitchen that she’d planned on doing dinner. “Do we have a menu planned for the week?” she asked.

“Sure do. Today is pasta.”

There was another awkward silence. “And your name was penciled in beside it,” Kathleen added.

“If that’s okay?” someone else asked awkwardly. She wondered at the constant treading on eggshells around her. Was she really considered so delicate that she might break down at being asked to make pasta? Really? She knew her name was there. She’d put it there.

“I volunteered for tonight,” she said lightly.

And damn if there wasn’t a perceptible softening of the air. Weird.

She studied the ingredients. “I do wonder about what I have to work with though. I don’t want to use up any ingredients that were planned for other meals.”

“No worries there,” Kathleen said. “We have this sheet here.” And she wandered over to Stacy, paper in hand. “It shows what we bought for each meal.”

“Oh good. That will certainly make it easier.”

“There’s no leftover chili from yesterday, I presume,” she asked, glancing around the table. “I could use a bite to eat.”

There were several guilty looks. She laughed. “No worries. I’ll make up a sandwich.”

That was one thing she knew they had plenty of. George often scoffed them down as snacks. Bread was a very important food item for her brother. She found a loaf of French bread and decided that would be garlic bread for the spaghetti. Then she started in on the onions and garlic. She was tired, but not wanting to sit out with the others or lie down, she chose instead to make the sauce while she still had the energy. She’d forgotten how the cold seeped into her bones and zapped her energy away. She’d been out there standing around and waiting for hours. The others had been better off as they had gone snowboarding and the other half had come back into the heat. Grabbing a couple of slabs of ham and cheese, she made a simple sandwich to eat as she worked on the sauce. With any luck, it wouldn’t take too long and she might catch a nap before the others came in.

As she worked, she wondered at the lowered voices. Were they trying to have her not hear? And if so, why?

She hated it, but she couldn’t help trying to listen in.

“You know he’s been crazy about her forever.”

“What happened between them?”

“The fact that there was no ‘them.’” And the snickers started.

Stacy froze, her head down. Really? Had everyone always known? Although they didn’t appear to know about the weekend she’d spent with Royce. Thank heavens. But that he’d been crazy about her? Had she had her head buried in the sand for these last few years? She tried to think back to what their relationship was like before that weekend. It had been casual. Teasing. She’d never considered him relationship material.

He was a playboy. He’d made a great toy to play with for a weekend, and that was it.

That he’d been anything but that during their weekend together made no sense.

She’d shoved that discrepancy to the far corners of her mind for a long time. But now the issue rose to consume her thoughts again.

Had Royce cared more than she’d suspected? But if he had – for how long? Had he been just hiding his feelings for her all along? No, surely not. She remembered the long string of women he’d flaunted through those years. He’d been enjoying every moment. That was one reason she’d never taken that walk on the wild side. Then when she did, he’d been so caring, compassionate; it had been the opposite of what she’d expected. And maybe that’s what had thrown her off yet again. As he wasn’t the man she’d expected to find in her bed.

But she’d needed him. Like she’d never needed anyone before.

What she couldn’t understand – even today – why had she chosen him?

And why had he accepted?

*

Royce stayed away
from the cabin, happy to spend a couple of hours on the mountain. He’d chosen to go with Stevie after all. Especially after realizing that following Stacy to the cabin would only confirm everyone’s suspicions.

It had been the right decision. He texted George to say they were on the way back. As he watched the message send, he smiled. At least something was working today.

Stevie stepped up beside him. “Hey, see, that was worth it, wasn’t it?”

“It was. Nice to get up there even if it was only for a short time.”

“We did get a couple of hours, but of course it went by too damn quick.” His stomach grumbled. “And now I feel like I have to eat.” He held his hand up, pulled off his glove, and tried to hold it steady.

“Low blood sugar?”

“Absolutely.” Stevie sighed. “It’s getting worse every year.”

“And of course you’re looking after it carefully, right?”

Stevie laughed, pulling an energy bar out of his pocket. “Absolutely.” He held up the bar and took a big bite.

Royce eyed it. “Don’t have a second one, do you?”

Stevie drove his empty hand into his pocket and pulled out a second bar. Royce accepted it with a big smile. He ripped the package open and took a big bite. “Pasta for dinner.”

“Great,” Stevie said. “I won’t have any problem eating my share.” He waited a beat, then added. “And yours.”

“Ha. I’ll be eating mine. I do hope we brought enough food. I’m starved.”

“George arranged the food, so hopefully that’s not an issue.” But he did look a little worried. Stevie was tall and scrawny with whipcord strength and performed all sports like the athlete he was. He could climb the most difficult of all climbs like a monkey. He had a great sense of humor and loved women as Royce used to love women, only he didn’t have quite so many options as Royce.

Then Royce had tired of it. Of them. He’d gotten in too deep emotionally over Stacy many years ago and had gone a little crazy for a while trying to get over her. She’d been too young. She’d been George’s little sister.

She hadn’t been for him.

He’d bedded every willing woman he could find. The more he did, the more he loathed himself. And the more he hated himself and thought he was not worth Stacy’s time, the more he fell into the same damaging cycle, proving his point over and over again. The women rolled through the trips and blurred in his mind as the names and places mixed with the never-ending video of faces.

He looked back on that stage of his life and cringed. He wasn’t proud of it. In fact, he was pretty damn ashamed. Still, during those years, Stacy hadn’t seemed to give a damn what he did. Although she’d been friendly, she’d never shown any interest in him. In fact, she’d ignored him.

When she’d come to him without warning, he’d figured he’d found heaven. Instead, he’d learned what purgatory actually was. He’d been trying to find his way back home ever since.

In the days, weeks, months afterwards, he’d done a lot of self-examination and had seen his life through her eyes, and he’d been ashamed all over again. So he’d straightened up and tried hard to show her his different side. And she never noticed.

It damn near broke him.

She was so close and yet so damn far away.

He didn’t know how to cross the impasse. He knew it was there. He knew it needed to be crossed. He also knew that Stacy wouldn’t even acknowledge that it ever existed.

And if she didn’t know it was there, she wouldn’t know to cross it. And he desperately needed her to take those steps across the bridge. He’d be waiting for her at the end of that bridge. Hell, he’d hold her hand and help her across that bridge if she’d just take the first step.

He needed her to take that step. And save him.

*