Raising the Stakes. Karen Rock

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      He closed his eyes in appreciation as the pure, icy liquid splashed down his throat. It was better than any manufactured drink. No matter how much man imitated, Mother Nature had the best recipe.

      “How’s the cub doing?” he asked after another bite. The tart pickle and crispy bacon woke up his taste buds.

      Vivie pushed back a stray piece of hair, the faintest gleam of moisture on her forehead. For late May, it was already hot.

      “Saw the Reeds before I went in this morning and they let me feed Button,” she said. “She’s still drinking the formula since her jaw’s not right yet.”

      He frowned. With the bear struggling to eat, he understood human contact was needed. Still, that would only make Vivie more attached. Given the light in her eyes, this seemed like a lost battle—not that he’d quit trying to make her see sense.

      “Once she’s in the pen, you’ll feed her through a chute. Don’t let her get used to humans. If she does, a successful release will be impossible.”

      She nodded automatically, her eyes roaming the green mountain peaks in the distance. “Do we have to board up all sides? She should be able to see nature, especially if she’s going to return to it, so it doesn’t seem totally foreign.”

      “Sounds good as long as it’s facing away from you and the house. This—” Liam gestured to the partial construction “—is only a temporary home.” He pointed to a patch of berry bushes bordering the forest that ringed her property. “That is her real habitat. Never forget it.”

      “How could I?” she asked drily. “You never let up on it.”

      “You wanted this.” He crumpled his napkin and closed the now-empty container. “If it was up to me—”

      “Button wouldn’t have had a second chance,” she muttered so quietly he had to lean close to catch it. Her light floral scent reminded him of their wild surroundings. For a moment, he closed his eyes and breathed her in.

      “Unfair, Vivie.” He stood and brushed a maple seedpod from his pants. “I’ve worked here every day to make this possible.”

      She scrambled to her feet, her expression earnest. The gold flecks in her light brown eyes gleamed. “I know. And I’m grateful every time I wake up and hear you outside. But I wish you wouldn’t be so hard on me. And Button.”

      “I’m doing what’s right. Not what’s easy.” He watched a couple of rabbits grazing on white-topped clover. That was the future he wanted for the cub. He glanced back at the lumber pile. Not one that stole her freedom.

      Vivie nodded and picked up another hammer. “What can I do?”

      He blinked in surprise. In her blue sundress, the short hem fluttering around her legs, she resembled a princess. Not a construction worker.

      “Know anything about carpentry work?” Since it was a rhetorical question, her nod caught him off guard.

      “One of my stepdads had a contracting business. I can even do roofing.”

      “Roofing...” he repeated, imagining her slipping on an angled roof and breaking something. He shook off the image.

      “You had more than one stepfather?” he asked once he’d passed her some nails and they’d begun hammering.

      “Six,” she mumbled around a mouthful of nails. Did the woman have no concern for her safety?

      He unbuckled his tool belt and wrapped it around her narrow hips, his fingers a little unsteady when they grazed her. “You’re going to choke if you keep them in your mouth. Put them in the pouch.”

      She spit the nails into her hand and dropped them into the pocket. “Okay, Mr. Doom and Gloom.”

      “I’d rather be Sir Reality Check, if you don’t mind.”

      Her eye roll said it all. “Your reality, I guess.” She resumed hammering. “Sir.”

      He picked up more nails and stuffed them into his jeans pockets. “So, six stepfathers, huh? Sounds rough.” He couldn’t deny his curiosity about Vivie. She’d surprised him at every turn.

      “Yeah. I guess.”

      Finished with the board, they moved to the pile of lumber and carried another two-by-four to the next spot. He steadied it in place while she expertly sank nails in its base. Her aim was dead-on and the nails disappeared into the wood after two or three hits. Was it his imagination or was she smashing them harder than ever?

      He knew he should leave the topic alone, but something fragile in her tone brought out his protective streak. Had she been hurt?

      “Where’s your mom now?”

      Her hammer slammed dead center into another nail and buried it in one blow. “Don’t know. Haven’t spoken to her in ten years.”

      With her lips pressed together and her eyes narrow, all signs indicated he should change the subject, but somehow he couldn’t.

      “Why’s that?”

      “She didn’t exactly leave a forwarding number when she walked out on me and her latest husband.”

      That sounded hard. “And how old were you?”

      She stopped and gulped from her water bottle. After a long drink, she wiped her mouth and met his eyes. “Seventeen. Any more questions, Hardy boy?”

      He pulled off his sweaty T-shirt. “Not really.” He began nailing another board. “Just passing time.”

      Only he wasn’t. Every moment with Vivie intrigued him. He looked forward to seeing her more than he dared admit. More than was good for his peace of mind. Like her, he shouldn’t get attached...especially if he got that job in Yellowstone Park. He wondered when the résumé he’d emailed would get a response.

      She moved around him and held the next piece of wood as he secured it to the foundation. “So how about you? Did you grow up with the white picket fence? Have a dog and a sister?”

      “A cat and six siblings. No fence, though the Korean vegetable market on the corner had a customers-only line we couldn’t cross. Especially after my sister Mary Ann filched a mango.”

      She considered him, something spooked in her expression. “Sounds like you grew up in the city.”

      He pressed the beam, testing its stability, then pounded in another nail for good measure. “SoHo. My family owns a pub there and we lived in an apartment above it. Most of them still do. Mary Ann’s getting married there in August.”

      She lowered her hammer. “I lived in the city when I was in culinary school.”

      “Yeah? What part?”

      Her hand rose to her neck and her voice grew faint. “The Bronx.”

      Before he could ask her more, she hurried on, “So all nine of СКАЧАТЬ