A Reunion and a Ring

Shoving the memories fiercely to the back of his mind, he half turned away from her. The storm assaulting the windows made it obvious she wasn’t leaving immediately. He released a heavy sigh. “Maybe you remember there’s another bedroom at the back of the cabin, behind the kitchen. You can crash there tonight, and we’ll get this all figured out in the morning.”

“Spend the night here? With you?”

Pain radiated from his shoulder, and his head was starting to pound. He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in a couple days. Patience was not his strong suit at the best of times, but he’d lost any semblance of it tonight.

“I didn’t suggest sleeping in the same bed,” he snapped. “The other room has a lock on the door. Use it, if you’re so damned afraid of me. Hell, take my weapon and sleep with it under your pillow, if it makes you feel better.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not afraid of you, Gavin.”

“Great. I’m not afraid of you, either.”

A soft laugh escaped her, sounding as if it had been startled out of her. “You’re in pain,” she said. “I’ll get the aspirin.”

“I had a pain pill before I went to sleep. Probably shouldn’t take aspirin on top of it.”

“Oh. You’re right. How long has it been?”

“Couple hours, maybe. I can take one every four hours, but I don’t usually need them that often.”

“What did you do to your shoulder?”

“Long story.” And one he had no intention of getting into at the moment. “There’s another emergency lantern in the kitchen. I’ll help you find it. I’m thirsty, anyway.”

“Thank you.”

He saw her glance up nervously when something else hit the roof, and he wondered if she was anxious about the storm. He remembered that she’d never been a fan of storms. Yet, she’d been prepared to go back out in it? He shook his head.

Carefully pulling on a loose shirt, he picked up the lantern and moved past her toward the doorway. He heard her pick up her bag and hurry after him, trying to stay close to the light. He retrieved the second fluorescent lantern from the kitchen counter, pushed the power button, then turned to offer it to his visitor. She accepted with barely concealed eagerness.

He could see her more clearly in the double lantern light. She’d been very pretty just out of her teens, but the intervening decade had only added to her attraction.

Her dark hair, which she’d once worn long and straight, now waved in layers around her oval face. He remembered how it had once felt to have his hands buried in its soft depths.

Her chocolate-brown eyes studied him warily from beneath long, dark lashes. There had been a time when she’d gazed at him with open adulation.

She was still slender, though perhaps a bit curvier than before. He’d once known every inch of her body as well as his own, and he noted the slight differences now. He tried to stay objective, but he was only human. And she looked damned good.

Her expensive-looking clothes were somewhat worse for wear after her jog through the rain. He wasn’t one to notice brands, but even he recognized the logo on the overnight bag she carried. Apparently she had achieved the success she had always aspired to.

He hadn’t kept up with her—quite deliberately—but his mother had mentioned a few months ago that she’d seen Jenny’s photo in the society section of the local newspaper. She’d watched his face a bit too closely as she’d commented casually that Jenny had been photographed at some sort of community service awards dinner for Little Rock’s young professionals. She’d added that Jenny was reported to be dating a member of one of central Arkansas’s most prominent and long-established families. He’d answered somewhat curtly that he read the sports pages, not the society gossip, and that he had no particular interest in who his long-ago college girlfriend was now dating. He wasn’t sure he’d succeeded in convincing his mother that Jenny never even crossed his mind these days.

So what had really made this country-club princess choose to vacation at his rustic fishing cabin? As unlikely a coincidence as it was, he had no doubt that she was as dismayed to have found him here as he was that she’d shown up so unexpectedly. The genuine shock on her face had been unmistakable.

He reached into a cabinet and drew out a glass. “Are you thirsty? I doubt there’s anything cold in the fridge, but I can offer tap water. Or I think we’ve got some herbal tea bags. It’s a gas stove, so I can heat water for you, if you want.”

Despite the circumstances, he was trying to be a reasonably gracious host, though he wasn’t the sociable type at the best of times. After all, it wasn’t Jenny’s fault the agency he’d hired to rent out the cabin had recently employed a total airhead. He’d have more than a few pointed words for someone there tomorrow.

Hal Woodman, an old friend of his father’s, had built this cabin on the Buffalo River as a fishing retreat and rental property when Gavin was just a kid. Hal had let Gavin’s parents use it frequently for family vacations. A few years later, Gavin’s dad bought the cabin from his then-ailing friend. Gavin and his sister inherited the place when their father died a couple years ago. His sister lived out of state now with her military husband, so Gavin had bought her portion. To defray the costs, he rented it out when he wasn’t using it—which was more often than he liked because of his work schedule. The cabin was close enough to hiking trails, float trip outfitters and a couple of tourist-friendly towns that it rarely sat empty for long. Yet, had anyone suggested that Jenny Baer would be one of his weekend renters, he would have labeled that person delusional.

Jenny shivered a little, and he realized her clothes were still damp. Hell, she’d likely sue both him and the leasing agency if she got sick. “Go put on some dry clothes. I’ll heat some water. The bathroom’s through that door.”

Jenny hesitated only a moment, then tightened her grip on the lantern and turned toward the bathroom. Grumbling beneath his breath, he filled the teakettle and reached for the tin of herbal teas his health-conscious mom had insisted he bring with him. She was still annoyed with him for taking off to heal in private rather than letting her nurse him back to health from his injury, which would have driven him crazy. He disliked being fussed over, even by the mother he adored.

Jenny wasn’t gone long. When she returned, she wore slim-fitting dark knit pants with a loose coral top that looked somewhat more comfortable than her previous outfit. She’d towel-dried her hair and her feet were still bare, but other than that, she could have been dressed to host a casual summer party. Had she really packed this way for a cabin weekend alone? He had to admit she looked great, but out of place here. No surprise.

He set a steaming mug of tea on the booth-style oak table. A bench rested against the wall, and four bow-back chairs were arranged at the ends and opposite side of the table, providing comfortable seating for six adults. He brought friends occasionally for poker-and-fishing weekends, and the family still tried to gather here once a year or so, but usually he came alone when he needed a little downtime to recharge his emotional batteries.

Setting the lantern on the table, Jenny slid into a chair and picked up the tea mug, cradling it between her hands as she gazed up at him. “I’m really sorry about this mix-up. And that I woke you so abruptly when I’m sure you need sleep.”

He started to shrug his right shoulder out of habit, then stopped himself at the first twinge of protest. “Not your fault,” he said again. “How long were you planning to stay?”

She looked into her mug, hiding her expression. “I paid for three nights, which would let me stay until Monday afternoon if I’d wanted.”

“By yourself.” That still seemed odd to him. Was she still seeing Mr. Social Register? Or had there been a breakup? He couldn’t help thinking back to the weeks following his breakup with Jenny. He’d dropped out of college and holed up here alone for a couple of weeks, until his parents had shown up and practically dragged him back into the real world. He’d entered the police academy as soon as he could get in after that, putting both the pain and the woman who’d caused it out of his mind and out of his heart. Or at least that’s what he’d told himself all these years since.

Still, just because he’d retreated here after a split didn’t mean Jenny’s reasons for being here were in any way the same.

No particular emotion showed on her face when she spoke, still without looking up at him. “I’ve gotten behind on some business and personal paperwork and I thought it would be nice to have a little time to myself in peaceful surroundings to tackle it all. I needed a chance to concentrate without constant interruptions, and it’s usually hard to find that back at home.”

Leaning against the counter, he raised his water glass and murmured into it, “I know that feeling.”

She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “You’re getting away from everyone, too?”

“In a way. I, um, had surgery on my shoulder last week and I’d rather hide out and heal alone rather than be hovered over by my mom.”

Her full lips curved then into a faint smile. “From what I remember about you, that doesn’t surprise me at all.”

He didn’t want to discuss memories, good or otherwise.

“So you drove straight here from Little Rock?”

“Yes. It wasn’t storming when I left. I had hoped it would hit later, or maybe skip this area completely.”

She looked up when thunder boomed again, louder and closer. “Thor’s really angry tonight,” she murmured with a wry, somewhat nervous-looking smile.

A chuckle escaped him. “The myth or the superhero?”

“The myth, of course.” She gave a husky little laugh that echoed straight from those memories he was trying so hard to hold back. “And the superhero. I’ve seen all the movies, even though my, um, friend calls them cheesy. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy more intellectually challenging films for the most part, but I...”

She stopped herself with a grimace. “I’m sorry, I’m babbling. This whole situation is just so...awkward.”

“Yeah.” He set his glass beside the sink, his attention lingering reluctantly on her mention of a “friend.” Something about the way she’d said the word made him wonder...

He motioned abruptly toward his bedroom. “I’m going back to bed. Make yourself at home. We’ll sort it all out in the morning. You’ll be getting a refund, of course, for anything you’ve paid up front.”

Lightning zapped so close to the cabin he could almost smell the ozone. The near-deafening clap of thunder was almost simultaneous. He saw Jenny flinch, her hands visibly unsteady around the mug. Wind-driven rain hammered the windows, and he thought he heard some hail mixed in. The full force of the storm had definitely arrived.

“Do you know if we’re under a tornado warning?”

He shook his head. “My phone would sound an alarm if we were. It’s only a severe thunderstorm warning.”

“You’ll let me know if it turns into anything more?”

“Of course.”

He took another step toward the bedroom just as another barrage of hail hit the roof and windows. Hearing a sound from Jenny, he looked over his shoulder. She sat at the table holding her mug, her face pale in the circle of lantern light. She made no move toward her own bedroom. “Are you okay?”

She glanced his way. “I hope this hail doesn’t damage my car.”

His truck was under cover in the carport, but he wasn’t about to offer to go out and swap places with her. He figured she had insurance. “Maybe the hail won’t last long.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said, her voice almost drowned out by thunder. The storm was so loud now it seemed to echo inside his aching head.

Raising his left hand to his temple, he said, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks. I’m okay for now.”

Nodding, he turned and headed grimly for the bedroom, thinking he’d better lie down before he embarrassed himself by falling down. He’d been assured the wound infection was not serious and should heal quickly with a five-day course of antibiotics, but combined with everything else, it was kicking his butt tonight. He could only blame that for his inability to think clearly about the woman now sitting at his table.

He’d been far too rattled ever since she’d tumbled out of the storm, out of the past and into his bed.

* * *

Jenny watched Gavin walk away. His thin shirt emphasized the breadth and muscularity of his shoulders and arms. His well-worn jeans encased a tight butt. At thirty-one, he’d put on a few pounds since she’d seen him last, but those pounds were all muscle. She saw no evidence of his injury from the back, which only enhanced the impression of strength and power. She waited only until his bedroom door closed sharply behind him before she sagged in her chair and hid her face in her hands.

She had always wondered how she would feel if she saw Gavin again. She’d hoped she would have enough warning to brace herself. As it was, it had taken every ounce of control she could muster to hide her shock and dismay at finding him here.

Gavin had certainly shown no particular emotion, other than the initial, understandable confusion when he’d first recognized her. Since then, he’d given no evidence that he viewed her as anything more than an annoying intrusion. Remembering how angry he’d been when she’d broken up with him, she supposed that shouldn’t surprise her.

She felt suddenly alone in her little circle of lantern light. A crash of wind and thunder made her jerk, almost spilling the dregs of her tea. She swallowed, squared her shoulders and stood to carry the cup to the sink.

Retrieving her bag and the lantern, she moved into the back bedroom, which was even smaller than the one in which she’d found Gavin. A full-over-full bunk bed was pushed against the wall, leaving little walking room. She’d forgotten about the bunk bed. Just over ten years ago, on that pleasant Locke family getaway, she and Gavin’s sister had slept in this room. His very traditional parents had taken the bedroom and Gavin got the sleeper sofa.

Which hadn’t prevented her and Gavin from sneaking off a few times to be alone, she recalled with a hard swallow. They’d found one particularly inviting clearing in the woods, carpeted with soft moss, serenaded by the sound of lazily running water.

The unsettling memory was so clear she could almost hear that water now. She took a step forward into the room and started when her bare foot landed in a puddle of cold water. Lifting the lantern, she discovered a steady stream of rain pouring in onto the top bunk. Another, smaller leak dripped onto the floor where she’d just stepped.

She raised the light higher, looking up at the ceiling. Another surge of hail pounded the windows and more water gushed through the leak above the bed. Obviously, shingles had been loosened or blown off. She rushed back into the kitchen, set her bag on the table and began to rummage quickly in the cupboards for containers in which to catch the leaks. Maybe she could save the wood flooring if she intervened quickly. She tried to be quiet, but pans clattered despite her efforts. She pulled out the largest pots she found, then tried to juggle them with a couple of dish towels and the lantern. This no-electricity thing could get old very fast.

The other bedroom door flew open. “What are you doing out here?” Gavin sounded both sleepy and irritated.

“I’m sorry I disturbed you again,” she replied over her shoulder. “The roof in this bedroom is leaking in two places. I’m trying to catch the water before it does any damage.”

“Well, hell.”

Moments later, he knelt beside her with another towel, though she’d already mopped up most of the standing water. His now-bare shoulder brushed her arm as they reached out together, and she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her. Just static, she assured herself, scooting an inch away. She stuck a pot beneath the leak and heard the rhythmic strike of drops against metal.

“Should we try to move the bed away from the leak?”

“Nowhere to move it to.” He picked up the other pot and set it on the top bed. Now the water splashed in stereo, thumping against the pots like miniature drumbeats. “There are waterproof covers on both mattresses. I’ll strip the beds and try to dry everything tomorrow.”

He turned toward her, his partially shadowed face inscrutable. “Obviously you can’t stay in here. That dripping would drive you nuts.”

“True.”

He let out a sigh and motioned toward the doorway. “Looks like you’re sleeping in my bed tonight.”

Her heart gave a hard thump simultaneously with the loud clap of thunder that accompanied his words.

Chapter Two

Jenny woke with a start Saturday morning at the sound of a closing door. Disoriented, she blinked her eyes open, only then remembering that she’d spent a restless night on the sleeper sofa in the cabin’s living room. Gavin had offered the use of his bed, but she’d refused. She wouldn’t displace an injured man from his bed because of a mix-up that was no fault of his own. Not to mention that the thought of crawling into sheets still warm from his body had been disconcerting enough to make her toes curl.

Though the fold-out mattress was comfortable enough, she hadn’t slept well, and the noisy storm had been only part of the reason. She’d lain awake for a long time trying to come to grips with the reality that after all these years her ex-boyfriend lay only a few feet away. Old memories—some bittersweet, some wrenching—had whirled through her head, leaving her too tense to relax. It had simply never crossed her mind that she might run into Gavin at the cabin she’d only visited before with him. Some might say there was a complicated Freudian explanation behind her decision to come here to consider another man’s proposal, but that was ridiculous. It had been the peace and quiet that had drawn her here, certainly not nostalgia.

Gavin stood in front of her when she turned her head toward the front door. Dressed in a gray T-shirt, jeans and boots, he was damp and mud-splattered. He pushed a hand through his wet hair, which was so long it touched the back collar of his shirt, indicating he’d missed a couple of cuts. He still hadn’t shaved, adding to his roguish bad-boy appearance. Her pulse jumped into a faster rhythm at the sight of him. If she’d had any doubt that she still found Gavin strongly attractive, that question was answered definitively now.

“Sorry I woke you,” he said.

Self-conscious, she swung her feet to the floor and pushed herself upright, trying to smooth her tousled hair. It bothered her to think he’d walked right past her as she’d slept, leaving her feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. That was a little hard to deal with this morning.

Light filtered in through the windows. She could hear rain still falling on the roof, though the height of the storm had passed. She saw no lights burning inside, so she assumed the power was still out. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight.”

Later than she usually slept, but she hardly felt well-rested. “What’s it like out there?”

His response was blunt. “A mess. Lots of limbs on the ground. There’s a big tree over the road a few yards from the house, totally blocking the drive, and I’m sure there’s flooding beyond that. You’re lucky you got here when you did last night. You won’t be leaving for a while yet. No way to get down the hill in your car.”

Not promising. She moistened her dry lips before asking, “Is my car damaged?”

“A few hail dings. You were fortunate. A good-size limb fell only a couple feet away from your hood.”

While she was relieved her car hadn’t sustained damage, she wasn’t sure fortunate was the right word to describe her current situation. “How long do you think it will take for them to clear the tree from the road?”

“Them?”

“The county? Highway department? Whoever does that sort of thing.”

“Highway department doesn’t take care of rural gravel roads. And the tree’s on private property, so the county isn’t going to deal with it. I’m sure they have their hands full elsewhere. From what I saw on my phone news feed, there was quite a bit of damage around this part of the state last night.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, feeling suddenly a bit panicky at the thought of being trapped here with Gavin for much longer. It wasn’t that she feared for her safety—but she couldn’t say the same for her peace of mind. “So, what are we going to do?”

“I’ve got a chain saw in the back of my truck. I was planning to do some light trimming and clearing this weekend, anyway, assuming my shoulder cooperated. I’ll tackle the tree when the rain stops, but it’s going to take a while with only the one sixteen-inch saw. As for the flooding, you’ll just have to wait for that to recede. There’s too much water over the road for you to risk driving through it, even if you could figure out a way to get around the tree. You’d be swept into the river before you made it across.”

Unsurprised that he hadn’t planned to let his injury stop him from the work he’d wanted to do, she twisted her fingers in front of her. “How long do you think it will take for the flooding to recede?”

He glanced upward, silently indicating the still-falling rain. “This county remains under a flash flood alert. It’s going to take a few hours for all the water to drain off once the rain stops.”

“Have you heard from home? Was there storm damage in the Little Rock area?”

He shook his head. “The worst of the storms were confined to this part of the state.”

She was relieved that her family and her business had escaped the brunt of the storms she’d so foolishly driven into, but she wasn’t looking forward to spending several hours alone here with Gavin and their shared memories. “Surely I can get out somehow. Is there a back road, maybe?”

“Look, Jenny, I’m no more pleased about this than you are, but you might as well face facts. You’d be risking your life to try to make it down that hill now.”

She sighed and pushed her hair out of her face, silently conceding his point. At least he wasn’t pretending to be delighted to have her here. If there was one thing she remembered about Gavin Locke, it was that he had always been bluntly, sometimes painfully, honest.

“You had planned to stay for three nights, anyway,” he reminded her. “It’s not as if you have anyplace else you need to be today.”

“True. But I had expected to be here alone.”

“I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m the one who’s intruding.”

He made a dismissive gesture, though he didn’t assure her that it was no bother to have her here. They both knew better.

“At least let me cook breakfast,” she said, deciding to attempt to act as dispassionate as he was about the situation. “I brought a few nonperishable groceries with me. The bags are out in my car. I was going to try to find a market for some fresh food if I decided to stay the full three days, but I...”

“I have food,” he broke in curtly. “The kitchen’s stocked. Help yourself to anything you find in the cabinets or pantry. I doubt there’s anything salvageable in the fridge. I’m not hungry, but I’d take coffee if you want to make it while I wash up. There’s a French press in the cabinet by the stove.”

“Are you still running a fever?” She resisted an impulse to step forward and touch his face. He hadn’t seemed to like that last night. It was probably best to keep the touching to a minimum, anyway, while they were stranded here together.

“I’m fine.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him entirely, but figured it would be a waste of time to argue. Or even to point out that a man with an injured shoulder probably shouldn’t be out in the rain clearing storm debris.

He disappeared into his bedroom. After folding away the sleeper sofa and neatly stacking the sheets and pillows, Jenny rummaged in the kitchen. She filled the kettle with water and when it boiled she made the coffee, then two bowls of instant oatmeal she found in the pantry. A few bananas were turning brown on the counter, so she sliced a couple on top of the oatmeal and set the steaming bowls and mugs on the table. She’d just taken her seat when Gavin joined her again. He hadn’t changed, but he’d tried to clean the mud splatters on his clothes, leaving damp, streaked spots behind. She had to glance quickly down at her oatmeal to hide any hint of the feminine appreciation that flooded unbidden through her again. She was really going to have to put a stop to this, she thought irritably.