Riding the Pause (15 page)

“I think I made a mistake,” he said, looking up to meet her eyes.

“Well it can’t have been your first.” She gave his hand a squeeze and picked up her cup of tea. “And it’s doubtful it’s your last. The important thing now is what are you going to do about it?”

“I was married before. We were so different.” As he repeated the words he’d thought a thousand times before, he wondered if they were true. “Maybe it was more that we wanted different things.” It was a small distinction but it felt important. “By the time it was over, she hated me.”

“And you’re afraid to trust yourself not to make the same mistakes with Rachel. You poor thing.”

“I thought it was right the first time. I don’t know how to let myself believe it would be different this time.” And he couldn’t stand the idea of Rachel growing to hate him. Living with her, loving her, building a life together and then having it all fall apart would destroy him. Losing her now was bad enough, but he wouldn’t survive that.

“You’re not the only one in the relationship, are you? Rachel doesn’t strike me as someone who gives up control easily. She reminds me of my Harold that way. He held tight to the things around us so I was free to create, and I gave that back to him. We were so different,” she said, staring off into the distance, her gaze gone wistful and soft. “But that’s what made us work.”

Ian drank his tea and ate some of the cookies Mrs. Smithfield brought, wondering if she might be right. Maybe their differences would be the thing that made them stronger, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to figure that out if she kept running away.

“Here,” she said, handing him a folded check. “Don’t argue with me. I’m older and meaner than you are.”

“You know you don’t have to do this,” he said, grinning and shaking his head.

“Yes, I do. Now, you surprised me this time so there’s no cobbler. You give me a call next time so I have a chance to make some and bring your young lady back with you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, tucking the check into his back pocket and wondering if there would be a next time or a young lady.

“It’s like old times,” said Peter, leaning against the door of Rachel’s new office. “I’m so glad you said yes. In a couple of weeks it will be like the hiatus between Moore and Masters and here was a quick vacation.”

Rachel looked up at him, forcing a smile. Peter was right. She should be happy, and she was grateful. He wouldn’t have had to ask her to join the team. It meant a lot to her that he did, but she was having a hard time getting from grateful to happy.

“I’ll leave you to settle in, and we’ll have a staff meeting in my office at two.”

“I’ll be there.” As soon as she was sure he was gone, she let her head hit the desk with a thunk.

What was wrong with her? This was a good thing. Her life was back on track. In a year, the past few weeks wouldn’t even be a blip on her career radar. Maybe that was it. Maybe she didn’t want it to be just a blip. Ignoring her feelings for Ian because she simply couldn’t let herself face how lost she was without him, she stopped and forced herself to look at the rest of what she was feeling. What if she didn’t want things to go back to the way they were?

Flipping open the plastic lid on the chopped salad she picked up at the corner deli, she typed her password into her laptop and opened her browser. She typed Etsy into the search bar and spent the next twenty minutes paging through pictures of beautiful handmade pottery and jewelry.

Acting as Ian’s unofficial office manager may have gone colossally wrong, and she understood why he was angry. In classic Rachel style, she’d grabbed hold of a situation and taken complete control regardless of the instructions he’d given her. She didn’t think Mrs. Smithfield had been traumatized. She’d liked talking to the older woman and hearing about her Harold, and she loved how fond she seemed of Ian. But none of that mattered. She’d overstepped, and her intentions were irrelevant.

If she set better parameters though, there were probably thousands of artists and craftspeople who could use some organization and office help. People who could use someone to talk care of the business side of things so they were free to create. She wasn’t thinking about a small bookkeeping firm. It might start that way, but the lady who started that babysitting firm and the lady who started the review site had both built huge businesses with a simple idea. There was no reason she couldn’t start small and grow to be a multi-million dollar corporation. And because so much of it could be done online, she could work anywhere.

Putting in a sixty or seventy hour workweek when she was just down the street from Marion Rose and the rest of her family was different than doing it three hours away. She could have the career she wanted and the life she wanted. If it put her closer to Ian, so what?

He’d called, but she’d ignore him. It was stupid and wrong. She knew she’d run away again, but she couldn’t get the image of the way he’d looked at her out of her head. Like she’d been such a disappointment, and he didn’t know her at all. And maybe he didn’t if he thought she’d rough up Mrs. Smithfield. She may have run away from him, but he always assumed the worst of her. It wasn’t exactly a firm foundation to build a relationship on. If that’s even what they were doing.

Letting that soundtrack run in a loop in her head wasn’t going to get her any closer to anywhere she wanted to be. She could figure out how she felt about that later. For now, she had a brand new idea and some new energy and she wanted a chance to explore both. Pulling a notebook out of her new desk drawer, she started to jot down notes.

By Friday, Ian was willing to admit that Mrs. Smithfield had a point or that if she didn’t, it didn’t matter because he wanted Rachel anyway. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else since she left, and he was done worrying about whether it was a good idea or not. He still had some details to figure out. She wanted a career, not just a job in a small town. She wouldn’t be happy giving that part of herself up, and he wouldn’t ask her. Maybe he could get some studio space in Charlottesville. He didn’t love the idea of leaving his cabin or workshop, but he loved Rachel. That made him motivated.

Breathing in the scent of toasted sawdust from the rough cut pine board he’d been planing, he flipped the switch to shut down the machine. He didn’t see anything that looked off, but something smelled hot. While he waited for the planer to cool down, he picked up his phone to see if he’d missed a call while the machine was running.

Nothing.
It was wishful thinking. He’d called a dozen times since she left and hadn’t heard back from her once. It didn’t matter what he wanted if she wouldn’t give him another chance. Staring at the blank screen, willing his phone to ring, he missed her with an ache that was almost physical. Before he could think too much about it, he thumbed open his messages and typed.

I’m sorry. I miss you.

            
 
He hit send before he could change his mind. There, he thought, taking a deep breath and smelling smoke. What he’d assumed was the wood getting too hot in the planer seemed to be coming from outside instead. Tucking his phone in his pocket, he slid open the barn door and stepped outside. It was sunny, with blue skies and no late season storms to account for the smoke.

Scanning the horizon he looked for anything that might indicate a fire. At first glance he didn’t see anything, but he’d fought enough fires out west to know how quickly things could turn. All it took was for the breeze to shift and the wind to pick up and what was a stray spark became a ravenous fire. The water table was high, and the ground was still wet from the last of the late season snow so it would be harder for a fire to take hold. Harder but not impossible, he thought as he scanned the sky again.

There. In the direction he and Apollo took to get to the Appalachian Trail, there was a wisp of something that might be smoke.

“Come on, dog.” Apollo glanced around nervously, sensing something was up, but he followed Ian into the cabin.

As part of a better-safe-than-sorry plan, Ian grabbed his heavy coat and leather gloves. He had no intention of single handedly fighting a forest fire but the coat and gloves would give him some protection while he got close enough to figure out what was going on.

Thumbing open his phone, he saw the text he’d sent Rachel. Still no response, but that was okay. He had time. He’d convince her they belonged together, because they did, and then he’d set about making the adjustments he had to so it could work. Even if it meant selling his place. He looked around the familiar cabin he’d loved for years surprised at how easy it was to think about leaving it now that he knew there was something that meant more to him.

Leaving it was one thing. Letting his house burn down because of a careless camper was something completely different.

“Stay here,” he said to the dog as he dialed the number for the Forest Service and headed out the door.

Making the decision to quit had been easier than Rachel imagined. Peter hadn’t been happy about it, but he didn’t seem too surprised.

“I should have known it was too good to be true, having everything go back to the way it was before Albrecht. I hope you’ll be happy with whatever comes next for you,” he said, giving her shoulder an uncharacteristic squeeze. “I know you won’t settle for anything less.”

Grabbing her meager belongings, she walked out of the office. The only thing left to do was to call Taylor and see if she could convince her to come back to Charlottesville to repack what they’d just unpacked and then she could go home. Everything felt right, like the path ahead of her was laid out and all she had to do was walk down it.

Jostling the box with her stuff to one arm, she pulled out her phone and slid her thumb over the screen to open the new message. She must have forgotten to turn up her volume again because she hadn’t heard the text come in. Ian’s name popped up on the screen and the breath caught in her throat. Now that she was on the path to get her work situation the way she wanted it, it was time to fix things with him. She knew she’d overstepped and run away, but she also knew she could fix it. She could fix anything she set her mind to. Her mountain man wouldn’t know what hit him.

When she opened the text and saw what he’d written, tears pricked her eyes, and she had to blink hard to keep from crying in the lobby of the building. Not wanting to waste another minute, she touched the icon beside his name and waited while the phone rang. It rang six times before it went to voicemail and she hung up without leaving a message not wanting to turn into a blubbering mess on his voicemail. Touching the message icon instead, she typed a text of her own.

I’m sorry 2. Miss you 2. On my way home.

Smiling to herself, she hit send. It was a start. It felt like everything was starting over. Scrolling through her contacts, she found Taylor’s number and hit call, but she wasn’t surprised when it went to voicemail. At this time on a Friday her sister was probably at the Station with any of her brothers and sisters who were in town. This time next week she could be there herself. The thought made her smile. Finding Adam’s number, she hit call. Aside from Jude who was probably home with Autumn and the baby, he was the one most likely to answer his phone. He answered on the second ring and she smiled to herself.

“Hey, could you pass your phone to Taylor?”

“I got a call and left her at the Station with Andrew. You could try him.”

“Thanks,” she said, but he interrupted before she hung up.

“I don’t know if I should tell you or not,” he said, hedging. “I mean it’s probably nothing, and I don’t know if you want to know anyway.”

“Just tell me,” she said, something tightening low in her stomach.

“There’s a fire in the Jefferson National Forest.” He blew out a breath, and she knew before he said it that she didn’t want to hear what came next. “Ian was the one who called it in. He’s probably fine,” he hurried to add, but Rachel couldn’t hear anything else. She’d already let the phone drop from her ear and started toward the door.

Rachel curled up on Ian’s sofa with Apollo by her side. He’d looked uncertain when she’d tried to coax him up next to her, but since she let him put his big head on her lap and scratched him behind his ears, he seemed to embrace the idea. He wasn’t normally allowed on the furniture, but she’d deal with the fallout from that when Ian got home. For now having the big dog curled up with her was the only thing keeping her from losing her mind.

She’d made the drive from Charlottesville in under two and a half hours and had gone straight to Ian’s place. Adam called her a couple of times, first to make sure she’d gotten there okay and then to let her know the Forest Service felt like the fire was under control. It was reassuring news. No one had been hurt and damage to the forest was minimal, but she wouldn’t relax until Ian came home to her.

Adam seemed to think Ian must have hooked up with one of the teams fighting the blaze. He’d also said they’d caught the guys who’d set the fire, trying to cook meth in the national forest. Her brother sounded so tired and worried. She knew he was trying to figure out how to keep it from happening again and how to keep everyone in their town safe. She wished there was something she could do to make things easier for him. She’d brainstorm with Ian about it when he got home, because he would come back home and when he did, she’d be waiting for him.

Artemis stalked by, giving the dog on the sofa a disdainful once over before jumping up to bump her head against Rachel’s hand. Ignoring the pin pricks in her good Prada slacks as the cat played happy paws on her thigh, she sat draped in the warm reassuring weight of the animals who loved Ian and waited.

Hours passed and she tried not to worry, but every time she caught the scent of smoke, something tightened in her chest. Fire was so unpredictable and hard to control. Adam said no one had been hurt, and given his history, it made sense that Ian would have stepped up and tried to help. Especially since the fire was so close to his place. She hated to think what would have happened if it had come close enough to threaten the workshop and Ian’s furniture.

It hadn’t, and he’d come home and then they’d have time to sort everything out. It couldn’t work out any other way. She knew that, and she was trying desperately not to let her controlling freak flag fly. Short of traipsing off into the woods herself to find the crews who’d been fighting the fire, there wasn’t anything else she could do, but as the early evening sun slid  to late evening and then darkness, it got harder to maintain her sense of perspective.

She was a few short steps away from crazy when Apollo lifted his head from her lap and stared out the darkened windows. The flood lights flipped on at the barn and she leapt to her feet, dumping a disgruntled Artemis onto the floor.

Peering out the window she saw a soot covered figure coming toward the house. When he saw her car, he broke into a run, but it didn’t matter. She was already out the door and flying toward him. Dropping his jacket so he could hold her, he scooped her up into his arms, knocking the breath out of her in a whoosh. His skin felt damp and cool under her hands, his clothing soaked through with sweat. He reeked of smoke, and his face was black with grime.

Pulling back, she cupped his face with her hands, searching his familiar hazel eyes until she convinced herself that he was her Ian, in spite of the dirt. It felt like she’d been waiting for him for so long, that part of her was having a hard time believing he was really here with her in her arms.

“I got your message,” he said.

“I got yours.” And then his mouth was on hers, crushing her lips, stealing her breath and giving it back to her again. In that moment, the last pieces of her puzzle slipped into place, and Rachel knew exactly where she was supposed to be and what she was supposed to be doing. She belonged in Ian’s arms, loving him. Everything else was just extra. Icing on an already amazing cake.

He should let go of her. He was ruining her clothes. The creamy silk blouse she had on would never be the same, but Ian couldn’t make himself take his hands off Rachel. Now that he had her back in his arms, he didn’t know how he was ever supposed to let her go.

The fire had been a nasty business, leaving a ruined black scar over a slice of the national forest, but it could have been much worse. The crews were quick on the scene and with the ground wet it hadn’t been easy for it to take hold. He’d fallen in with some guys he knew, cutting lines to keep the fire from spreading and stayed until after dark to make sure it was out or contained. He’d been walking home through the woods when he thought to check his phone and saw the message from Rachel.

When she said she was coming home, he had no idea she meant she’d be there when he got back. He’d have run the whole way home if he’d known. It didn’t matter. She was here now in his arms, and he could hardly breathe with wanting her. When he finally managed to break the kiss and pull away, he saw smudges on her face from where the soot had rubbed off on her.

“Good,” he said, brushing at a smear over her cheek. “Now you have to get a shower with me.”

“You didn’t really think I’d let you out of my sight, did you?” She licked her lips in anticipation, and it took every bit of his control to keep from kissing her again and dragging her plump bottom lip into his mouth. But the sooner he got her inside and upstairs, the sooner she’d be naked and in his arms. Exactly where she belonged.

“God, I hoped not.”

Cringing at the soot marks he’d left on her clothing, he took her by the hand and led her into the cabin. Apollo bumped Ian with his head, demanding attention and Ian scratched him behind the ears. Seemingly satisfied with the state of his affairs, the big black dog started to climb up onto the leather sofa.

“Have you lost your mind?” Ian scolded and the sheepish animal got back down and curled up on the rug in front of the cold wood burner. When he glanced over at Rachel, needing to confirm once more time that she was really there with him, she looked as sheepish as the dog.

“It’s my fault,” she confessed. “I let him get up on the sofa with me while we were waiting for you. I was scared.” Her voice sounded small and his heart ached for her.

Knowing his rock solid, steady powerhouse Rachel had been scared for him touched something deep inside him. He could picture her curled up on his sofa with Apollo in her arms, waiting for him to come home to her. He’d known he wasn’t in any real danger, but for someone used to controlling all the variables, the volatile nature of fire must have been terrifying for her. He could imagine what he’d have felt like if the situation were reversed, and he squeezed her tighter.

“I’m fine,” he said, tucking her against his body. “And you’re a bad influence.”

She laughed and he relaxed a fraction. “I told him it was a one-time thing,” she said. “Because it was a one-time thing. You’re not going to scare me like that again, are you?”