Renee Wildes - An Unexpected Gift.pdf - Renee Wildes - allforjesus2001

An Unexpected Gift

Cover Art: Scott Carpenter

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the

writerÓs imagination or have been used fictitiously and are no construed to be real. Any

resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely

incidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner

whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief excerpts or quotations

embodied in critical articles and reviews.

ÐSheÓs worth saving, you know.Ñ

Annie McGowan froze. That voice. That not-quite-hated, still-familiar voice. Turning

away from the sagging gate of the corral, she faced her nemesis.

Pietr Van Wyck. Heartbreaker extraordinaire.

He looked good, almost too good with his military bearing and Marine haircut. SheÓd

seen a picture of him in his dress uniform, hanging on the wall of his motherÓs bakery. Now he

wore a sheepskin coat, flannel shirt and well-worn jeans, just another Harmony Lake, WI Joe.

Except to her. God, sheÓd missed him.

He stared over top of the fencing at the black mare Annie had salvaged from the

rendererÓs final bid. She was a sorry sight standing in the snow with the goats and GranÓs old

mule, Blue Î visibly thin despite her current woolly mammoth coat. That Annie could fix. She

was also meaner than a drop-kicked badger. That Annie hoped she could fix.

Pietr turned to face her, his electric blue gaze still as mesmerizing as she remembered.

ÐThatÓs not rage. ItÓs fear.Ñ

Three yearsÓ gone from Harmony Lake, and he still made her quiver with a word and a

look. Not good. SheÓd prayed sheÓd get over him. Now it was as if those three years had never

been. She actually felt his arms around her, and ached to be held again. She shook herself

back to sense by eyeing the mare. ÐI donÓt know what her story is.Ñ

ÐGood lines. Morgan look.Ñ

The mare snorted and pawed the ground, but kept her distance.

Annie sighed. ÐShe doesnÓt trust me yet, but she will.Ñ

ÐYou always did have a way with animals.Ñ

Just not with men. Not with you . ÐWhat are you doing here?Ñ

ÐCanÓt a neighbor come over and say hello?Ñ He grinned, and that devastating dimple

appeared in his right cheek. ÐShould I ask to borrow a cup of sugar to make it official?Ñ

ÐI donÓt see a cup.Ñ

ÐBusted.Ñ His eyes gleamed at her. ÐJust came by to say I missed you last night.Ñ

ÐDidnÓt you have enough guests at your party?Ñ The welcome-home party sheÓd been too

cowardly to attend. She couldnÓt face all those eyes looking from herÈto himÈand recalling

what might have been. The wedding that never happened.

Of course, her absence probably made tongues wag all the faster.

Some days, you just couldnÓt win.

Snow hissed against her jacket, pelted her cheeks, and she shivered as the wind snuck

beneath her hair for an icy caress. She hugged herself, tucking her gloved hands under her

arms. ÐWell, how about a cup of coffee before you head back to town?Ñ

ÐThought youÓd never ask.Ñ He followed her into her Grandma MaeÓs kitchen.

The smell of coffee and cinnamon greeted her. Funny, sheÓd owned the old farmhouse

for almost three years, but she still thought of it as ÐGrandmaÓs kitchen.Ñ Annie tried to picture it

through PietrÓs eyes Î worn linoleum, faded wallpaper, old appliances. She loved the way the

oak of the antique table glowed in the sunlight, the homey look of braided rugs and place mats.

ÐYou baked?Ñ

The incredulity in his voice irked, but she had to be honest. ÐNo, your mom did. I picked

up a coffee cake for breakfast tomorrow. But the coffeeÓs all mine.Ñ Cinnamon-laced dark roast.

Pietr shrugged out of his coat. The mischief in his eyes revealed the little-boy-that-was.

ÐHow about I bring you another for tomorrow, and we eat this one now?Ñ

Annie tossed her ski jacket over a chair and grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. With

unfailing accuracy, Pietr found the silverware drawer and removed a knife. ÐHow did you know?Ñ

she asked him.

ÐWhere they used to be. Figured theyÓd still be there.Ñ He sliced the cake while she

poured coffee.

His assumption stung. ÐIÓve changed. IÓve even changed the houseÈsome.Ñ

He turned to her with that maddening raised eyebrow. ÐYeah? Show me,Ñ he challenged.

She handed him a cup of coffee and led the way out into the living room. Pine and wood

smoke. ÐSee? IÓve got new carpet, new paint, new artwork.Ñ

ÐSame colors, same furniture.Ñ He eyed the cast-iron wood stove, the battered steamer

trunk that had served as a coffee table for three generations of her family. ÐSame old Annie.Ñ

She crossed her arms and glared. ÐNot all of us are dying to run off and see the world,

soldier. Someone has to stay home.Ñ She stared at the Scots pine in the corner, covered with a

century of McGowen ornaments Î hand-blown Bavarian glass mixed in with popsicle-sticks-and-

wound-yarn.

Pietr, too, stared at the tree. ÐJust like I remember.Ñ He took a deep breath. ÐGod, I

missed this tree.Ñ

Stab her in the heart, why didnÓt he? Did you miss me like I missed you? ÐNo one threw

you out. You justÈleft, without saying goodbye. Just up and joined the Marines, moved half a

world away like your tail was on fire. You couldnÓt get away fast enough. WasnÓt Harmony Lake

good enough for you?Ñ

WasnÓt I good enough for you?

He whirled. ÐI wrote. You never wrote back.Ñ

SheÓd burned them all, unopened. She didnÓt want to hear his excuses, not then and not

now. ÐWhat was there to say, Pietr?Ñ

ÐAnd hasnÓt that always been our problem?Ñ His eyes gleamed with the memory. ÐNever

got around to saying what needed saying.Ñ

ÐYou ran off.Ñ

ÐAnd you hid away.Ñ He pinned her with his gaze. ÐYouÓre still hiding.Ñ

She bristled. ÐI like my quiet life. What am I hiding from?Ñ

ÐLife. That big wide world beyond the crossroads. Me.Ñ

ÐWhy donÓt you just go back to that big wide world and leave me be?Ñ

ÐSeen the big bad world, baby. Now IÓm home. To stay. DadÓs heart made him retire

early. IÓm taking over the garage.Ñ

SheÓd never seen this Pietr Î strong, fierce, determined. SheÓd once loved the boy. That

boy was long gone. She didnÓt know the man in his place. ÐIÓm sorry about your father. But

whatÓs all this got to do with me?Ñ

ÐBecause, darlinÓ,Ñ his voice dropped a half-octave, ÐIÓm here to remind you just how

good I am with my hands.Ñ

Annie choked on her coffee. Her entire body tingled with those memories, damn him.

ÐYou need to work on your pickup lines, soldier. IÓll call you when my car needs a tune up.Ñ

ÐBe happy to fix it. But thatÓs not what IÓm talking about and you know it.Ñ He moved

closer. ÐTell me we werenÓt good together.Ñ

Her eyes narrowed. If only her cheeks would cool. ÐChalk it up to youthful hormones. We

grew up and moved on. ItÓs done and over with, Pietr. Let it go.Ñ

ÐNo.Ñ He backed her into the wall, braced a hand against the door jam to prevent her

escape. ÐLook me in the eyes and tell me youÓre seeing someone else. Tell me youÓve never

thought of meÈof us.Ñ

His scent encircled her Î musk and man, bringing with it a flash of memory, the

sensation of hot skin sliding on hers. The warmth of his body beckoned. She raised her gaze to

his. The heat in his eyes made her shiver with yearning and dread. ÐIÈÑ Annie swallowed, her

mouth suddenly dry. ÐWeÓre not the same people.Ñ

ÐTell me his name,Ñ he whispered.

The movement of his lips drew her gaze. She closed her eyes to that temptation. ÐStop

it.Ñ Her voice shook. Damn it, sheÓd waited years to tell him off. What was wrong with her? ÐJust

go away.Ñ

He nuzzled her hair aside. ÐI will,Ñ he whispered in her ear. Goosebumps rose. ÐTell me

his name, baby, and IÓm gone.Ñ

Whose name? She barely remembered her own name. She put out her free hand to stop

him. Masculine heat caressed her fingers through the flannel, and she curled her fingers in the

material in response. ÐPietr, IÈÑ Words failed her.

He sucked in a breath at her touch. ÐLook at me. Damn it, Annie, donÓt you hide from me

now. Look at me.Ñ

She opened her eyes to find his face an inch from her own. ÐNoÈone. ThereÓs ÎÑ

His mouth silenced hers. His lips moved on hers, a sensual caress that swept away the

last three years. Annie closed her eyes, clutching his shirt with a whimper that was part need,

part despair. God, sheÓd missed him. This kiss was new and different. Not the boyÓs headlong

rush into passion, but the manÓs leisurely, relentless coaxing. Part worship, part atonement. It

had been too long since heÓd held her, and never like this. She felt almostÈcherished.

He broke the kiss off and stepped back. ÐYour coffee.Ñ

SheÓd forgotten the cup in her hand. Amazing it was still there. Annie took a shaky step

around him and retreated back into the kitchen to take a chair at the table.

Pietr was right behind her. He plunked his cup next to hers and sat down, reaching for

her hand.

She laced her fingers through his. SheÓd forgotten their warmth. Strong and capable.

She traced a new scar on the back of his hand. ÐWhereÓd you get this?Ñ

ÐOn some unpronounceable mountain in Afghanistan. Piece of shrapnel. It has some

cousins.Ñ

She shuddered. He could have been killed. HeÓd have died thinking she hated him. All

those letters unanswered. What had she done? ÐIÓm sorry.Ñ

ÐWhy? I chose the uniform. I knew the risks. IÓm luckier than some.Ñ

Annie looked up at the hollowness in his voice, to see haunted echoes in his eyes.

ÐThatÓs not what IÓm sorry for.Ñ He raised an eyebrow, and she felt her cheeks flush at how that

sounded. ÐI mean, I sorry you got hurt. Of course I am.Ñ She bit her lip before she started

babbling like an idiot. ÐYou wrote to me. Your mom told me. My mom told me. And I never wrote

back. I just couldnÓt.Ñ

ÐI know you never read them.Ñ Regret chased the shadows. ÐI was an ass. I hurt you. I

donÓt expect you to understand.Ñ

ÐI didnÓt want to hear it then. IÓm sorry. I was unfair.Ñ Annie rubbed that godawful scar on

his hand. ÐSo tell me now. I promise IÓll listen.Ñ

He was silent for a long moment. ÐThere was just that big wide world out there, with so

much to see and do. I wanted to make a difference, do something heroic and exciting. I felt like

the world was just passing me by and IÓd grow old and die without ever doing anything .Ñ

Annie shook her head. ÐBut you donÓt have to go thousands of miles to be someone

special. This town is your home. You have your chance to make a difference right here.Ñ

Renee Wildes - An Unexpected Gift.pdf

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