Hometown Hero (Hometown Alaska Men Book 2) (12 page)

"So your partner rescued you?"

"Yeah. To save me, Phil put a bullet in Tony's head. He killed Angie's killer and put a permanent end to Tony's drug business. Phil's a hero. A true friend."

"Angie was her name?" Tawney asked, her words low and soft.

"Angie. Angie Redmond."

"What happened to her son?"

"His grandmother took him in." Rick paced over to the window. "There aren't enough ways for me to ask for forgiveness. I do what I can for the kid—send his grandmother money, that kind of thing."

Tawney went to him. She touched his back. "You need to forgive yourself."

He whirled around. "I can't."

"Rick, you were born to be a cop. Somehow you need to find your way back to doing what you love."

He shook his head. "I won't ever put myself or someone else in a position like that again. I don't want to feel that responsible for another person's life."

She could understand his emotion. "Instead you ran away, came here, took a job in a bar. You can't tell me you're happy."

Rick paced to the window. "Man, I've tried so hard to not think about Angie."

Tawney joined him. "I think the snow is slowing down."

"Maybe. Look, I'm tired. I'll take the couch so I can be near the fire, keep it going. You can take my bed upstairs. You'll have more privacy."

Tawney's first instinct was to argue with him but on second thought decided against it. Their conversation had changed his mood to pensive, upset. His forehead wrinkled, and she got the impression he wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

"Okay, thanks."

She headed upstairs. Maybe they both needed a little space and time to sort through their demons, both past and present.

Tawney got into bed. She tossed and turned, running tonight's conversation with Rick over and over through her mind. They'd cleared the air, and that was good, but they both had a lot of crap to wade through. She questioned every decision she'd ever made until exhaustion began to claim her. She was on the cusp of sleep when Rick shouted, "No! Get away!"

She sat up. Adrenaline shot through her.

"No," Rick shouted from downstairs. "No, stop!"

Tawney didn't wait to hear any more. She grabbed the gun from her purse and raced to the stairs.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tawney skidded to a stop, bumping her shin on the coffee table.

Rick thrashed on the couch, the blanket twisted around his hips. There was no one else in the room.

Tawney took a breath and set her gun on the table. "Rick?"

"No," he cried, throwing his arm over his eyes. "No."

"Rick?" She crept closer. He obviously was having a terrible nightmare. Was he remembering the execution? She touched his leg through the blanket, giving it a shake. "Rick, wake up, please."

His breath came hard and erratic.

"Rick," she said, louder this time. "Wake up."

"What?" His eyes opened.

Did he see her, or someone else? "It's me—Tawney. You're having a bad dream."

His eyes bounced to her face. Recognition flared.

"It's over," she said softly. "You're safe."

He sat up. "Shit."

Tawney's own heartbeat began to slow, and she took a breath. "Shit just about covers it. You scared the crap out of me."

He really looked at her then. "I’m sorry." His eyes took in her state of undress.

She crossed her arms over her chest, not because she was embarrassed, but more because she felt she embarrassed him. She'd performed in less. The T-shirt and panties she wore covered her more than a lot of costumes did.

"Are you okay now?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm sorry I woke you." He lifted up one end of his blanket. "Get under. You must be freezing."

She scooted under the blanket. They sat side by side on the couch, their feet on the floor, the blanket covering their bodies. She wasn't sure what to say, but she had the distinct feeling he wanted her there while he processed the dream, so she kept silent.

After a few minutes, he said, "The dream was so vivid."

"Talking about it tonight probably brought your memories forward," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. It just seemed so real."

"What can I do to help?" she asked.

"There's nothing anyone can do," he said quietly. "This will pass. The memory will fade again."

"When I'm afraid, I think about the mustangs," Tawney said. "I remember their beauty. I just close my eyes and imagine myself running with them. Free."

Rick nodded.

And for her, right now, it was enough.

*    *    *

When Tawney woke again, soft morning light filled the cabin. Snow still fell outside. Beside her, Rick slept. She rubbed her neck. They really had to quit sleeping sitting up on the sofa. Ouch.

Her movements woke Rick. "Hey," he said.

"Good morning." She scooted a little further away from him. "It's still snowing."

"I better stoke the fire." He tossed the cover back and went to the stove.

While his back was to her, Tawney made her escape upstairs. She took a quick shower and got dressed. When she came back downstairs, she felt like her armor was back in place, both physically and mentally.

Rick stood at the stove and the heavenly aroma of something fried filled the air.

"Hungry?" he asked her.

"Yes." She wondered if he'd bring up the nightmare.

"You left your gun on the coffee table," he said. "Did I scare you that much?"

"Enough that I thought you were in danger."

"Tawney to my rescue." He smiled. "I like that. Wish I'd been awake to see it."

She laughed. "I'm sure it was quite comical." She grabbed a couple of plates and set the table for breakfast. "How long do you think we'll be stuck here?"

"Not sure. Looks like it's letting up, but could be another day before the plow makes it this far and discovers the Jeep."

"It's a forced vacation for us," she said. "Coffee?"

"It's ready."

Tawney filled the cups. They ate their breakfast in companionable silence. There were no more secrets between them. The old hurts were eased, explained. They both needed to find a way to go forward.

"How about a self-defense lesson after breakfast?" Rick asked. "I could show you some moves that are very effective."

"Sure, I'd love that." She grinned.

Once the breakfast dishes were done they returned to the living room. Rick moved the coffee table out of the way and scooted the sofa back, giving them a larger area to practice in.

He showed Tawney how to trap an assailant's hand, how to do a wrist peel, the goal to get Rick's face below her hip. He showed her how to use her elbows to break a grip and how to get out of a bear hug, doing damage to her assailant with her elbows.

Tawney soaked it all in.

She got so good at doing a step-back to the outside of Rick's knee that she took him down, but she went with him, landing on him.

"Sorry," she laughed. His face was just inches from hers. The stubble on his jaw up close and personal. He smelled great, clean, like warmed soap. On him it worked. And under her hands, pure muscle. Her stomach did a flip flop. It had been way too long since she'd touched a man or a man had touched her.

"Don't be sorry," he said, grinning. "You're a good student." His hands moved on her waist.

Her physical feelings for him were so raw. "You're a good teacher." Needing to put some space between them, she untangled herself from him and sat up.

"Tell me the top five pressure points again," Rick said, his mind still obviously on their lesson.

Maybe she didn't turn him on? "His eyes. His groin. Adam's apple. Kneecaps. And…"

"His temples," Rick supplied, "especially if you have something you can use to hit him with there. But remember hitting any of these points is extremely dangerous. You could kill someone. These moves are for life and death situations only."

"Got it." She rubbed her hip. "I think I’m going to have a few bruises."

He stood, offering her his hand.

Tawney took it and he pulled her up. "Thanks, Rick."

"You're welcome."

Their eyes met, and for Tawney, time stopped.

What was happening here? Tawney let go of Rick's hand. She was not letting her heart go there, not with him. He might be the new and improved Rick, but he came with a lot of baggage and so did she. She needed to keep her head on straight. This was the time for her to make a fresh start, not go backward in time with a guy who appeared to have more issues than she did. She needed to figure out who she was, and she didn't need a man to help her do it.

"It stopped snowing," Rick said.

She followed his line of sight. The sun was out. They'd been so engrossed in self-defense training they hadn't noticed the shift in the weather.

"Looks like the worst is over," Rick said. "If it stays dry we might even get back by tonight."

The insistent hum of an engine pulled them both to the door. A truck with a plow shovel attached came up the driveway.

Rick waved a hand. "Earl Slatter," he said, "my nearest neighbor from five miles down the road."

Earl plowed right up to the porch, then cut his engine, hopping down from the big white four-wheel-drive truck.

"Saw your smoke," Earl said. "Thought you might need a dig out. Found your rig on the road. I can give you a tow."

"Thanks," Rick said. "I appreciate it."

"Who's this?" Earl asked, pointing at Tawney.

"Tawney, meet Earl," Rick said. "Earl, Tawney."

"How do," Earl said. He was an older, good-looking man, gray hair poking out from under his black knit cap. He had nice white teeth, kind blue eyes, and a strong jaw.

"You from around here?" Earl asked her.

"Patsy Cooper was Tawney's aunt," Rick supplied.

"You don't say?" Earl said. "Destiny your mama?"

"Yes, she is," Tawney said. "Nice to meet you, Earl. Do you know my mother?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do." He gave her a respectful nod. "Nice lady."

Tawney had the distinct feeling Earl had slept with her mother. Oh, brother. Embarrassing.

"If you want to load up, we should get a move on," Earl said.

"Great," Rick replied, a bit too enthusiastically. "Come on in and have a cup of coffee, Earl. It will just take me a minute to close things up."

"Well, okay then," Earl said, following them inside.

Rick made quick work of putting out the fire and shutting the cabin down.

Tawney waited with Earl.

"You're pretty, just like your mama," Earl said between sips of coffee. "You have her eyes."

"Thank you."

"Heard Destiny got married recently."

"She did. Lives in Canada with her new husband, John."

Earl nodded. "I'm happy for her. She always seemed to be searching for something. I hope she found it."

Seemed like searching for something was a family trait. "I hope so," Tawney said. "I haven't seen much of her lately. She'll be in town for Star's wedding. My sister is marrying Cade O'Brien. Do you know him?"

"Sure, everyone knows the O'Briens. Maybe I'll come by and say hello when Destiny's here," Earl said.

"You should. I'm sure she'd love to see you." Tawney couldn't imagine what a reunion would be like. Destiny loved the attention of men. She craved it like some people craved drugs or alcohol. Her mother would eat Earl alive.

"Ready," Rick said, joining them.

Earl towed the Jeep out of the rut and within minutes they were back on the road. Rick concentrated on his driving, giving Tawney time to think about everything he'd revealed to her during their snow-in. She stole a glance at him. He really was handsome. And troubled. And an emotional mess.

But so was she. Took an emotional cripple to know one.

They made it to town fine, waving at Earl as he drove off. They pulled into Rick's garage and exited the Jeep.

"I'm supposed to work at six," Tawney said.

"I'm on at seven."

"I'll see you later," she said. Suddenly it was awkward between them. It was easy to reveal things when circumstances were extreme. Now, with reality intruding, Rick seemed antsy, like he wanted to be away from her. "Thanks for the self-defense lessons."

"Sure." He grabbed a snow shovel from its hook on the wall. "Come on, I'll dig you a path home."

His thoughtfulness touched her. "Thanks."

Rick made quick work of the snow. At her door he dug the area out while she fished in her purse for the keys.

"This is fine, really," she said, when he kept going the extra mile to make the path even and clear.

"What the heck?" he said.

"What?"

She looked down, seeing a package.

"Must have been delivered before the big snow." Rick used the shovel to dig the small box out.

Tawney's tummy got that tight feeling, dread. She didn't want any more gifts, not from Mel, not from Fox, not from any man.

Rick passed her the box, using his gloved hand to brush the snow off. "There's no return address, but it’s a Nevada post mark."

Tawney stared down at the box. A small box. A box that could possibly hold a ring. "Fox?" She glanced up at Rick. "Oh my God. He's found me."

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Calm down," Rick said. He took the keys from Tawney. Her hands were shaking. He opened her door. "After you." She brushed past him and he saw the defeat in her eyes. Defeat that made him want to hop a plane to Vegas and take care of Fox himself.

Rick set the box on the kitchen table and turned up the heat. Tawney stood, frozen—and not from the cold. The woman was totally afraid.

"Tawney." He removed his gloves and put his hands on her arms, rubbing them through the bulk of her jacket. He wasn't trying to warm her but trying to comfort her, strike the fear from her features. "You're not alone. I'm here."