Page 8 of The Healer (The Blood of Legends #2)

Chapter Eight

MEMORIES ARE MADE OF THESE

W hen the soft flurries began to fall, Ilona pulled over. White coated the land until it reached the shadowed forests about a mile out on either side of the road. Icing sugar capped the pine trees, and gray clouds churned, warning of a fresh batch of snow on its way. Warmth from the heater blasted her face and filled her with a false sense of comfort. If she stepped outside, she would remain toasty yet enjoy the crisp beauty of winter.

Opening the door should have altered her plans, but despite the slap of icy air burning her cheeks, she exited the car. Her foot sank into the snow. The pristine blanket was deeper than she expected. With a firm grip on the car door’s frame, she tugged herself up and out, only for her to stumble forward. Said foot didn’t budge. Crying out, she splayed out face first in the snow like a child with an urge to do a snow angel. There wasn’t a soul within miles to witness her antics. Despite her lodged foot, she grinned, biting into the snow while she waved her arms.

Laughter struck at her silliness.

White powder covered her from her jeans to her jacket. Cold seeped into her clothing, chilling the warm skin beneath. She had forgotten snow was crystallized water with a level of danger to it. Pushing herself onto her knees, she flipped onto her backside to scoop the snow away from her boot.

As snowflakes snuck between her collar and braids, she shivered. Her fingertips were burning, and with reason since her new gloves rested on the passenger seat. Whatever pinned her might cost her the boot because she wasn’t about to freeze to death to keep it.

As quickly as the flurries started, it stopped. Silence settled over the world. Peace saturated her. She raised her face to the patches of dark sky scattered with innumerable stars. The vise squeezing her chest eased, and for the first time since waking up in Amity, she could breathe and feel.

Emotions assaulted her, denial, grief, guilt, acceptance, hysteria. In and out, over and under until they merged into one roiling mass. She arched her back and screamed, cursed, sobbed with her tears plopping into the fresh snow. Thrashing like a toddler throwing a tantrum, she fluffed clouds of snow when she slapped the ground around her.

Drained, she stilled, staring into the distance at the blinding white snow, the dark trees, yet focusing on nothing. She didn’t know how long she lay there, but her chattering teeth drew her back to her situation. Undoing her boot laces was a struggle with her numb fingers, but she managed it, sliding her foot free. In one last attempt, she wrestled with the boot as the cold penetrated her sock.

Gathering all her strength, she wrapped her fingers around the leather and tugged. She flew backward, sprawling once more in the snow and without the boot. Determination gripped her. She crawled to the boot, but a gust of snow snagged her attention. Standing there, staring at her was a grizzly bear, not twenty yards away. Her heart leaped to choke her, and her limbs sank with fear slithering down her spine as cold as her fingers and nose.

“Move, Ilona.” But she didn’t. She just sat there.

The bear sniffed the air, proving it was real and not a figment of her imagination. With a squeal, she scrambled to her feet and dove through the gaping car door, shutting it behind her.

She righted herself, arranging her long limbs beneath her before scanning the surroundings, wiping her bangs off her face to do so. She couldn’t see the bear. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. Gripping the steering wheel, she fumbled for the wipers.

And yelped, thrusting her back into the chair. Ten yards away, the bear watched her from the verge, tilting its head with curiosity before sniffing her boot. A shiver racked her body. Her nose and cheeks burned.

As soon as she started the car, a gust of residual warm air hit her. She moaned. Another shiver tore through her. She couldn’t stay here all night, not for a boot, and she sure as hell wouldn’t try to get it again with a grizzly bear out there.

“Fuck it, damn snow, you can keep the boot.”

She started the engine, clenching her frozen fingers around the steering wheel before reversing the rental. Taking a wide berth, she crawled past the bear, her gaze fixed on it, watching for any indication it might charge. She released a long sigh, slumping her shoulders as she drove off, flicking glances at her rearview mirror showing the bear chewing on her boot.

“Great. Next time, buy two pairs of boots, dumbass.” She cranked the heater. If she didn’t lose her fingers over this foolishness, it would be a miracle.

With the grizzly bear no longer a threat and her appendages thawing, she thought on her lunacy, climbing out the car in the middle of nowhere, frolicking in the snow like a child. She smiled. Excitement bubbled up like a slow-boiling kettle, and she let the warmth rise through her. A new beginning, an adventure hovered on the horizon.

As she took one last peek in the mirror, the squeal of the skidding brakes drowned out her scream. Standing in the middle of the road was a naked man…holding her boot.

She closed her eyes, questioning her sanity.

“No way would there be a naked man out in this weather.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she stared at him. “Fuck me, James.”

Evie’s saying slipped from Ilona’s lips, and the intense longing for her friend to be there gripped Ilona. Sliding into gear, she reversed, slowly, half expecting the man to be a mirage. He waited until she stopped the car before strolling balls to the wind to the passenger side.

When the door opened, she gaped. Tall, broad-shouldered with brown hair to his collarbone, his muscles rippled across his massive chest, catching the light.

He settled his blue gaze on her with the frame of the door hiding a certain part of his anatomy she shouldn’t be eager to see. “Your boot, ma’am.”

His voice, like liquid caramel, brushed over her senses, setting them ablaze. Something hot slithered into her core. She shifted her ass, trying to ease the dense ache. “Um, thanks?”

He placed the boot on the seat then closed the door.

She blinked, then leaped from the car, limping to where he walked away. Trying not to focus on his tight gluteus maximus or the tense and release of his bicep femoris muscles in his thighs, she hurried after him like a groupie. Shit, if Evie could see her now.

“Sir?” Ilona called after him, wincing as snow seeped into her sock. “You can’t be out in this…as you are. May I take you somewhere?” Spinning on the spot, she squinted at their surroundings, seeing no broken down vehicles, no footprints other than the bear’s. Where the hell was it? She peered into the distant forests hoping to catch a brown smear galumphing between the trees.

The man paused and stared at her. “You want to rescue me?” He arched a brow then chuckled. His good humor hit her innards like a shot of whisky. “That’s a first.”

“You’ll catch hypothermia out here.” Willing her gaze not to dip lower than his shoulders, she shrugged off her jacket and shivered, but offered him the too-small garment anyway. “I don’t have a blanket, but I do have a heater. Please. I’m going to Coedwig. Someone there will be able to help you…” She scanned the rolling white hills. “Find your car.”

“I’m not cold.”

Shit. Looking past his…um, penis, she focused on his unfidgeting hands. He was in the late stages of hypothermia. If he curled up now, he would die. “Do you feel tired?” He wasn’t shivering, either. “Do you know who you are?”

He laughed, leaning his head back to do so. His deep rumble washed over her, filling her with unexpected warmth again. She had to fight to hold back a smile.

“I know who I am, and no, I’m not tired.”

She closed the distance between them, taking cautious steps to not alarm him. “I…can’t abandon you. Please don’t ask me to.” If he fainted, there was no way she could lift him into the rental.

He studied her, his gaze like a caress, resting for a while on her eyebrows. “You have red hair?”

She nodded. Was he delirious?

He strolled toward her, unphased by his manly attributes so on display, which were textbook perfect if not on the big side. “And green eyes?”

She shrugged. “More hazel than emerald, but yes.”

He caught her chin in a gentle pinch and tilted her face.

Heat stung her wind-chapped cheeks. He couldn’t miss her scar, and he didn’t, his focus shifting. Pinching his lips, he released her. “I’m sorry.”

Tears stung her eyes. “Sorry?” She was breathless, her lungs struggling to deal with the freezing air and the rising wave of sorrow.

“For the pain you’ve endured.” His voice cut through to her heart.

She blinked, forcing the tears back. Such understanding and kindness from a stranger? “Life is pain, isn’t it?” She willed herself to shut up. “Please.” Shivering, she gestured to the car. “Come with me, and take my woolen hat too.” Whipping it off, she offered it to him.

He ignored her outstretched cap and jacket and caught a curl between his fingers. His gaze locked onto hers and dark blue swirled in his eyes. “I’ll find you in Coedwig.” With a grip on her elbow, he ushered her to the car.

Stunned, she allowed him to slip her inside and shut the door. Her heart pounded in her ears, and where he touched, tingled. Spinning in her seat, she searched for him, finding him crossing the snow-covered fields…barefoot.

She squeaked. There was nothing she could do. The man was huge, so forcing him to get in the car was impossible. Shoving her foot inside the boot, she tugged her cap on, and scrambled out of the car, sliding her jacket on too.

“Sir!” Running after him, she puffed air like a smoker.

He paused again, a slow sensual smile forming.

She trembled for another reason she was ashamed to analyze. “I can’t abandon you. I swore an oath,” she cried out, stumbling to a halt beside him.

“Are you always this stubborn?” He cupped her shoulders with his massive hands and spun her. “My car is just over the rise. I’m snow bathing.” His eye twitched.

She snorted at that blatant lie. “Right.”

He ran a gaze over her, lingering on the rapid rise and fall of her breasts in her T-shirt. “Undress and join me.” His voice deepened, hoarse and sexy.

Amazed at the heat shooting along her nerve endings, she gasped. Aware he waited for her response, she shook her head.

He shrugged. “Until later, ma’am.”

This time, she let him walk away. Watched him do it with the avid eye of an artist. Hell. He was gorgeous, beautiful, something Michelangelo would drool over. Hiking to her car, she slid in and palmed the steering wheel. Warm air blasted her from the still-running engine.

Drawing in a deep breath, she released it on a moan. A giggle escaped. She banged the door shut. Now that was an encounter of note. Pity she didn’t have it in her to sneak a photo. Evie would just have to believe her without evidence.

Driving off took all Ilona’s concentration. She wanted to look back, to search for her mysterious man. She crested a hill, and sprawling before her in the dip of the valley was Coedwig. It had one winding main road, with many capillaries reaching out to tiny cabins, their lights flickering gold in the darkness.

The nearer she traveled, the larger things became, with the pines trees towering above the road, the capillaries wide enough for trucks. Civilization came to life in a ramshackle bar, well-lit diner, a doctor’s practice, and a mercantile store. The farther she drove, she passed homes alongside the road and one double-story with ‘Cozy Cromwell’s’ in neon lights on the siding.

She chose an available parking bay, her snow tires crunching. The installation of those delayed her departure from Inner City, but she was there now. Smiling, she texted Gran and Evie, letting them know she had arrived safe but not sound. Marching along the salted path, she lugged her bag up to the large wooden door. It opened as she raised her hand to knock.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” A tall man blocked the light and warmth pouring through the door.

He was wrestling-huge, with bulging muscles and a barrel chest. His mocha skin contrasted with the shock of white hair flopping over a face God took a hand in creating.

She gaped, wishing she had loosened her hair to hide her scar. People stared at it, as fresh as it was, throwing pitying expressions at her. She hadn’t minded, uncaring what they thought, only aware of what it meant to her. Her survival. Her parents’ death. Now, with his ice-blue gaze trailing her like Mr. Nude had done, her scar itched under his perusal.

“We have here a freezing woman. Mind moving?” She arched a brow.

He jerked back, surprise widening his eyes, but he leaped aside. “Harriet, your guest has arrived.”

His boom rattled Ilona’s bones, and she glared at him, huffing past him with her heavy luggage. He hadn’t asked to carry it, and she wasn’t about to demand he help. What an ass.

A wide staircase curled upward to the left of the foyer with a room leading off on either side. Wooden flooring and colorful rugs trapped the warmth. The ceilings were high, with cream-painted wainscotting and brass wall lights adding an inviting glow. A glance to the right showed a formal dining room, with an antique dark wood dining table and chairs with burgundy brocade. To the left was a living room with deep floral couches and a roaring fire in the fireplace. Down the hallway, just past the stairs was a white and cream kitchen, bright light pouring through the arched doorway.

“Dane, leave the poor girl.” A woman adorable as her gran appeared. Her gray hair was unraveling from her chignon, and her eyeglasses kept sliding down her nose.

Ilona beamed. “Hi, my gran made a reservation.”

The woman hurried past Ilona. The essence of rose trailed her with the ties of her apron whipping around her. She tugged a book along a side table and ran a gnarled finger down a page. “Ms. Strickland?”

Ilona winced. “Call me Ilona.”

The elder woman frowned. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Ilona pinched her lips and glared at the man, despite the heat of the ass’s stare burning her. “Quit staring,” she whispered.

His eyes widened again, then he chuckled and continued to stare.

“Oh, all right. Dane, take Ms. Strick—”

“Ilona, please.” She unzipped her jacket, wondering if the spike in her temperature was due to Dane’s curiosity or Mr. Balls-to-the-wind. She hoped it was the latter’s fault. Smirking, she handed her jacket to Dane.

The older woman smiled. “If you call me Harriet. Quit standing around, Dane, and make yourself useful. Take Ilona’s bag upstairs.” Her grip on Ilona’s elbow was surprisingly strong for such a tiny woman. “Would you like a cup of cocoa?”

Ilona nodded. Dane lifted her bag like it weighed nothing, then jogged up the staircase, highlighting an ass she had to admit was exquisite. His denims rode low and cupped his gluteus maximus to perfection.

“We don’t get guests often.” Harriet’s voice faded down the passage, and Ilona hurried to catch up, the aroma of roast beef urging her to follow. “What brings you to Coedwig?”

“My grandmother sent me. I’m supposed to find Amos Denton.” She hoped revealing her purpose meant a quick in and out of Coedwig. For such a smallish town, everyone had to know everyone.

“Why would you want to find him?” While pouring boiling milk into cups, Harriet frowned. A delicate rose pink splashed across her cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

Ilona shrugged and climbed onto a barstool, leaning her elbow on the kitchen’s island. “Gran claims he’s my grandfather.”

“What? That mean old bastard?” Dane grumbled something under his breath before sliding onto a barstool beside her, bringing with him the fragrance of pine needles, cold wind, and snow. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t scare her, Dane. Amos is a sweetheart.”

He grunted. “To you, maybe. He’s a pain in my ass.” Dipping his head, he sipped from the mug Harriet placed before him. “Planning on staying long?”

Ilona wrapped her fingers around the mug and raised it to her lips. The sweet, addictive aroma of chocolate greeted her, and floating on the surface were pink mini marshmallows. Dane had all the white. She looked away to hide a smile.

“I don’t know.” When the cocoa warmed her belly, she flashed Harriet a grateful smile. “I have this box I’m supposed to give him.”

“Twenty-something years ago?” Harriet tapped her chin, her gaze unfocused. “The only woman… Would your gran be Monique Devereaux?”

“Yup, the one and only. She’s a little bundle of sassiness. Thankfully, I take after my dad.” Ilona winced as fresh pain rose out of the ceaseless dull ache circling her heart. Tears pressed against her eyes like she hadn’t just railed at the stars. “Um, if you don’t mind, I would like to turn in.”

“Yes, of course. Dane?”

He grunted and slid off the stool, but it was too late. Tears won out and ran like rivulets down Ilona’s cheeks. She hurried to wipe them away, embarrassment flushing her face. Then he did the stupidest thing. He wrapped his bulky arms around her and crushed her against solid muscle.

The floodgates opened. She drenched his T-shirt in seconds.

When Harriet slapped his arm, he released Ilona. “She hasn’t been here fifteen minutes and you have her crying.”

“It wasn’t me,” he growled, but he kept his hands on Ilona’s shoulders. He dipped to meet her gaze, his ice-blue eyes startling. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry for your pain or how life treated you before coming to Coedwig, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”

Another kind and understanding stranger? Did Coedwig breed them big and sweet? Ilona chuckled through her tears. “Thanks.”

With a tissue Harriet took from her cardigan sleeve, he dabbed Ilona’s face, his finger under her chin keeping her in place. He was gentle for such a lummox, gentler around her scar. “I’ll show you to your room. Dinner’s in about an hour or so.”

Ilona shook her head. As delicious as the beef smelled, her stomach churned. “I’m to bed if you don’t mind.”

Dane studied her. “Fair enough. Tomorrow morning, after one of Harriet’s epic breakfasts, I’ll take you to Amos.”

Harriet harumphed. “I’ll show her upstairs while you fetch more firewood.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, dropped a kiss on Harriet’s cheek, then jogged out the back door into the night. Going outside without a coat reminded Ilona of her naked Neanderthal.

“Wow, Ilona, for Dane to invite you to stay?” Harriet’s eyes twinkled, and Ilona would swear in front of the medical board, Harriet planned a matchmaking.

“Dane’s your grandson?” Her chance to pry.

“No, he owns most of Coedwig.” Harriet hung up her apron and gestured to the passage. “He’s what you would call our mayor.”

Ilona gaped, now seeing her sobbing in his arms as a tanktastic faux pas. “Oh.”

“He lets me run this bed and breakfast, even named it after me, just so I feel useful.” She climbed the stairs. Ilona trailed her, gripping the balustrade to drag her exhausted body up to the landing. Her knees trembled on each step. “Breakfast is when you wake up, dearie.”

“That’s not fair on—”

“I always have something on the fry. Dane and Rhys eat like bears.” She grinned and opened a door into a bedroom in creams and rouge.

A quilt adorned the bed, florals in shades of pinks and puce assaulted Ilona’s eyes. As long as it was clean, which it was, she wouldn’t complain about the décor. Dane had placed her bag on an antique armchair. Through a door was a modern en suite in beige and pink.

In one corner of the room was a cast iron fireplace, and beside it, a small bundle of wood. “This is wonderful, Harriet.”

The woman beamed. “I hoped you’d like it.” She patted Ilona on the forearm. “Goodnight, and sleep well.” She closed the door with a click.

Ilona took a calming breath, embarrassment warring with anger at her silly breakdown. And the hug? She had burrowed into his embrace, a wealth of comfort flowing through her as if he truly cared.

Unzipping her bag, she unpacked what she needed and disappeared into the bathroom. A hot shower thawed every inch of her. She winked at her reflection in the mirror. The scar puckered, and her smile faltered at the reminder of her loss. It would always be there, a red flag taking her back to that night and the following days.

With her back to the mirror, she rubbed her hair. In a shaggy bob brushing past her shoulders, it was easy to care for without taking up too much time. She wrapped a towel around her head, then used the bath towel to dry the rest of her.

Tying it with a knot between her breasts, she opened the bathroom door. A roaring fire burned in the fireplace, and a fresh stack of chopped wood sat on the tiles beside it.

“I did knock.”

She yelped, but a grinning Dane shut the bedroom door. His rumbled goodnight penetrated the thin walls, along with his chuckle and thundering steps down the stairs.

She smiled. The mayor? Huh.