Shelter Me Home (15 page)

“But—”

She hung up the phone before he could say more. Dropping the phone on the bed like it was a centipede, she stood and glared at it. Her chest heaved and adrenaline pumped through her veins. She’d done it. She’d sounded defiant and strong and brave, but still there was worry. What if he tracked her down? Forced her to come back to New York? Could he do that?

The vision of raising her baby in the Alaskan mountains wavered. How could he say there was nothing for a child here? Fresh air, miles to run, snaking rivers, and good people weren’t nothing. They were everything.

Swallowing her fear, she plucked the cell phone from the bed and left to find Aanon. When she glanced at the screen, it said she’d missed picking up three calls, in rapid succession, from Erin. Did she somehow know her treachery and vengeful plans were being sabotaged? Her pet voodoo doll probably told her so.

The biggest snowmobile sat in disarray with a smattering of grease-smeared parts lying around it, and the hood was up to expose its inner workings. The barn was warmer than outside, but not by much. Lazy snowflakes fell, but by mid-afternoon, the big storm was supposed to hit. Aanon stood with his back to her, cleaning a long, hollow metal tube. His triceps flexed against his fitted, thermal sweater, and the edge of the tattoo she found so seductive, peeked out of his shirt as it had on the first day she’d arrived. A smile stretched her face, and the gesture settled her roiling stomach. By plane, she was a day and a half away from Miles, and he hated flying. Aanon was here, real, steadfast, and the baby was growing and moving as it should. She’d been promoted by Briney, and everything would work out.

Aanon turned fiery eyes on the doorway, and he froze when he saw her. “You okay?”

She handed him the phone and nodded. “I think so. It was scary, but I feel relieved that it’s done. I’m not hiding anymore, so the weight of that secret has lifted.” There was still the secret of she and Aanon’s growing relationship, but baby steps.

Wiping his hands on a rag, he said, “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah?”

“When you first showed up, you were running from the problem, and it dragged you down. Now look at you. You’re free from it.”

“Not exactly. Erin called a few times while I was on the phone, but I didn’t pick up.”

His light brows fell as he studied the screen. “Usually when she calls a lot without leaving a voicemail, she really wants to bawl me out for something.”

“You want me to leave?”

She turned to do so, but he shook his head. “Nah. It wouldn’t kill her to learn some patience. You want to talk about the phone call?”

Lifting a new rag, she picked a part and began rubbing it down. “He thought I was Victoria at first.”

“His wife?”

“No, his wife’s name is Laura,” she said with a significant look.

“Piece of work,” he muttered with a look of disgust.

“Honestly, I was scared I’d still feel something for him. I was afraid if I talked to him, he’d reel me back in like he used to when we were fighting.”

“But he didn’t?”

With a shake of her head, she said, “I don’t feel anything but disappointment about him now. Even if I just got closure on my feelings for him, the phone call was worth it.” She set the snowmobile part down and picked up another to clean. “He wants to come visit and work things out in person.”

The wooden shop table Aanon leaned on creaked under his weight. “How do you feel about him travelling here?”

“I asked him not to. I don’t want to see him ever again. The baby and I are better off without someone like him in our lives.”

His approach was slow, measured. “And what about a man like me?”

Stifling the shiver of pleasure that traveled up her spine, she set the part on the table and clutched onto the edges of his sweater. “You belong in it.”

His hand cupped her cheek, and she couldn’t find it in herself to care that she’d have smudges. Aanon Falk was looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, was staring at her lips like he couldn’t wait to taste them.

“I wish—”

“Don’t,” she begged. “We can’t change the way things happened. All we can do is focus on where we’re going.”

“Together?”

She smiled at the seriousness that pooled in the deep ocean color of his eyes. “Together.”

The days that followed were long but pleasant. Along with blankets of snow, a quiet reverence fell over the homestead. Hours on end were spent in a chair, curtains pushed aside, watching the falling snow. The silence was the perfect music with which to make decisions. Farrah had made up her mind and couldn’t seem to keep her hands from the curve of her growing belly. Every movement there told of a life, one that would be the most important thing she ever accomplished. She’d washed and folded soft blankets into the cradle, clipped coupons for diapers, and searched the newspaper for baby clothing sales in nearby Homer, and even as far as Anchorage.

She wasn’t her mother. Believing that, knowing it, was such a certainty, she could let herself fall in love with her baby without fear. She’d made a budget and knew exactly how much she needed to put away for her maternity leave from Briney’s. No matter what she had to do, she would make it work and provide a comfortable life for her tiny family. And she’d do it without Miles’s money.

Pride surged within her the more solid her plans became. It didn’t matter that she’d been raised without a father and grew up with a mother overflowing with her own demons. It didn’t matter that she’d picked the wrong man. She was the person she was today because of her trials. Believing that brought her closure. She wouldn’t take any of it back because she wouldn’t be strong enough to weather what she had to now without those earlier struggles.

Aanon had taught her how to prepare for an Alaskan winter in ways Mom hadn’t ever figured out. In the last couple of months, she’d learned more about survival than the rest of her years combined.

She sat up straighter in the chair when she saw Aanon. He carried two plates, steaming in the cold morning air as Bruno bounced beside him through the snow drifts. It had become a morning ritual that he took his breakfast with her.

His long legs didn’t suffer the deep snow, and his hair whipped around his face. Under a forest green toboggan, his cheeks were red from the wind and made his eyes look even brighter.

Luna whined, and Farrah hurried to open the door so he wouldn’t have to wait in the cold.

“Morning,” he greeted just before he pressed his lips against hers. Crisp mint of toothpaste and the clean tang of shaving cream filled her senses.

A flood of warmth rushed her body despite the chill of the open door. “What did you bring me today?” she asked, lifting the foil cover on one of the plates.

Fried potatoes, buttered biscuits, eggs, and a thin strip of steak brought an instant rumble from her stomach.

“You know you’re going to spoil me rotten, don’t you?”

He laughed and set the plates down. “I’m not exactly able to take you on real dates. The best you get is mediocre food and company.”

“I prefer this,” she said quietly as she poured them both a cup of coffee.

“Do you really mean that?” he said, searching her face.

The flimsy chair groaned under the burden as she sat. “Of course. I did the late night scene and the big fancy dates in New York. It didn’t feel as real as this, though. It didn’t feel important.”

A slow smile, one that showed a slight dimple in his left cheek, took his face, and he nodded as if he knew exactly what she meant.

When she couldn’t eat another bite, Aanon finished her leftovers, and she shrugged into her jacket before pulling on thick, fur-lined snow boots. It was getting harder and harder to bend at the waist as her stomach grew. As much as she’d love to stay snuggled up and warm, the animals had to be fed and work performed around the homestead to keep it running.

When she turned for the door, Aanon, dressed and ready, held her pink toboggan and a pair of warm gloves. “You are ridiculously cute,” he said, pulling her close and unfolding the snow hat for her. When he’d tugged it over her head, he leaned back to admire his work and tucked a rogue lock of hair behind her ear. “You make me feel like a lucky man, Farrah.”

She shoved her hands in his pockets and melted into his hug. He didn’t know it, but she was the lucky one.

By the time they left the warmth of the cabin, the cattle bellowed hungrily, and the two heavily furred horses, Milo and Tuck, nickered a greeting. Aanon patted her firmly on the bottom and offered her a smoldering grin before he headed toward the tractor. Snatching the bucket from the barn, she set out for the chicken coop, humming under her breath. The steam from each note mesmerized her so that she didn’t notice anything amiss until she was standing inside the chicken wire. It was a large enclosure, half house, half yard, but none of the chickens had ventured out for food. They clucked and pecked around the nest boxes, but not even the sound of grain against the feed pale drew them outside. Bloody feathers lay strewn across the enclosure and against the fencing.

“Oh no,” she whispered as a hole under the coop pulled her gaze. It was large, and when she took a head count inside, two chickens were missing. Shoving the bucket into the hole to block it, she latched the coop door and jogged for the cattle pen.

Aanon was unloading a bale of hay so she waited, hopping from foot to foot until he finished. When he passed through the gate, she closed it behind him so he didn’t have to dismount, and he held out his hand.

She hoisted herself upward, then leaned against the side of his seat as he pulled the tractor to the barn. “Something got two of the chickens.”

“Is the fence down?”

“No, but some kind of predator dug under and now there’s feathers everywhere.”

“Shit,” he muttered, throwing the tractor into park. “And you’re sure it wasn’t Luna?”

“She was sleeping by my bed all night. She paced the room at around three, but I thought she just had to go to the bathroom, so I let her out and then right back in. Maybe she heard whatever was out at the chicken coop.”

One look at the damage, and he had a guess. “I’d bet my good tools it’s a fox. And he won’t be satisfied with last night’s kill. He’ll come back night after night until all of our birds are in his belly. We’ll have to dig a trench around the outside of the coop and rig it with extra fencing so he can’t get in again. You want to water the horses while I take care of this?”

“Sure. Hey,” she said, resting her hand on his arm as he turned to leave. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” His hat crumpled in his hand as he removed it. He ran a glove over his hair. “We just can’t afford to lose meat to predators this winter. We’re cutting it close as it is.”

“Okay. I’ll take care of the horses and then come help with the fencing.”

His lips lingered on her forehead for a long moment, and then he was off for the barn. The man was right. She scanned the destruction the fox had brought. Two chickens that could’ve been holiday dinners and leftovers for days were now gone.

The horses weren’t as scary as they used to be. Likely because they were older and borderline comatose, and neither of them paid much attention to her. With two scoops of grain poured into their buckets, she filled their trough with water and kicked clean hay around their stalls. As she turned to head back to the coop, the sound of crunching tires echoed through the clearing.

Snow still poured over the homestead at a steady pace, and it was colder than a witches vagina, so who in their right mind would be dropping in for a visit? Unless someone was hurt or it was an emergency.

Heart beating with worry, she rounded a large snow drift and called for Aanon. “Someone’s coming,” she said as he jogged toward her.

“In this weather?”

She followed him to the front of the house, and as they rounded the west side, a delivery truck came into view.

“Did you order something?” she asked breathlessly.

“No.”

A man in uniform hopped out of the passenger side door and handed Aanon a thick manila envelope.

“Aanon Falk?”

“Yes, I’m him.”

“You’ve been served,” the portly man muttered with an apologetic quirk to his lips. As the truck pulled back down the road, Aanon stared at the return address with wide, frightened eyes.

“What has she done?” he murmured.

The address was listed in Anchorage with a law firm’s logo decorating the name. Such a well of dread hit her stomach, she fought down the nausea that clambered up the back of her throat.

Breath shaking, Aanon ripped into the thick paper and scanned the first few pages of the documents. “She’s filed for sole custody of Dodge. She’s taking me to court.”

“On what grounds does she think a judge will grant her sole custody? You’ve paid all of your child support on time, right?”

“I’ve never been late, and I made sure to write checks so I have proof, a paper trail if something like this ever happened. Here,” he said, pointing to page five. “She is testifying that my home is an unsafe environment and that I was unfaithful to her. And also that I put Dodge in danger and have him around parties who are bad influences.”

“Wow,” she whispered, stunned. That woman was out of her mind.

Aanon’s cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. A look of red rage took his eyes as he read the caller ID. “What did you do, Erin?” he growled into the receiver. “I’ve done nothing to warrant you blasting these false claims to the court. I’ve done everything you wanted. I pay your ridiculous demands. You don’t even have to work because I provide for you and Dodge! I want to be a part of his life, and you’re trying to kick me out of it!” His yelling caused the birds in the clearing to go still.

A lengthy, muffled reply sounded from the ear piece, and Farrah slumped onto the bottom porch stair.

He stood with his back to her, a rigid silhouette against the churning clouds above.

“Why are you doing this to me?” His voice was low and tortured.

Another muffled reply, and he hung up the phone. For a long time, he stared off into the woods, shoulders slumped like he’d been defeated.

Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she squeezed them tightly closed to keep her heartbreak inside. Aanon didn’t need her falling apart.

“She said she’d drop everything if I distanced myself from you. Said she has further instructions for us that she’ll give in a week’s time, but for now, she doesn’t want us talking or seeing each other at all.”

“Oh, Aanon,” she whispered. “She’ll own you forever if you do as she asks.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I do! But it’s Dodge, Farrah. He’s the most important part of my life. How can I fight her in court and risk losing him forever?” The papers folded helplessly in his furious grip. His voice thick with emotion, he gritted out, “It should’ve been you. If I’d gotten to know you in high school, you would’ve been it for me. I should’ve started a family with you. I made a bad choice, and now I’ll lose you to pay for it.”

Tears rimmed his eyes, and she couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe under the suffocating waves of dismay. “No, Aanon. There has to be another way.”

Skirting her post on the stairs, he flung open the door. “I’m sorry,” he rasped before closing it behind him.

****

Days fused together, none more or less important than the last. The snowfall was especially melancholy. Aanon’s entire life was awaiting his instructions from Erin. He’d do anything to keep his rights to Dodge, but at some point along the way, he’d sold his soul and pride to appease an undeserving woman’s ego.

The best and worst part of every day was seeing Farrah. It didn’t matter that he tried to ignore the ache in his chest when he thought of her, or that he did his best to avoid her. When Farrah worked the homestead, no matter where he was, he had stop and watch her. She was a drug—the more time he spent near her, the more he needed her. But then he’d look at her face, at the sorrow in her eyes and the absence of her smile, and he knew her unhappiness was because of him.

Oh, he’d known what Erin was capable of. She’d been cruel when they were together, kept her friends and family under her thumb with this insane instinct to control everything around her. He’d been ready to break it off for good when she’d come to him with news that she was pregnant with Dodge. That day changed everything.

He’d been wrong to develop feelings for Farrah. She was vulnerable, and he’d put her right in the path of Erin. Her heartache was on him. His heartache at losing her was nothing less than he deserved.

She’d picked up shifts for the last four days in a row, and if he had to guess, it was to avoid him. Her being away made it easier to resist the temptation to deepen their connection, but her absence stole his breath away. The homestead wasn’t home without her. She’d stamped her presence on everything there so wholly, he couldn’t go two steps without a memory tied to something.

Now, she stood on the side of the house, arms crossed in front of the freezer as she chose a cut of meat. It was the middle of the day, so she was likely choosing something to thaw for dinner. He closed his eyes against the vision of them sitting at her tiny table, sharing a meal, as they’d done before the legal documents. He had planned on making her a big dinner at his house that night, but the court papers ruined any plans he had about their future.

Clenching his jaw against the ache of loss, he turned deliberately away from her and shut himself in the Chevy. If he was going to make it through the day without giving in to his irritating need to touch her, he had to get away.