North Country Hero. Lois Richer

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      “That.” She pointed out the grimy window that overlooked his backyard.

      Kyle followed her pointing finger. He couldn’t figure out what she meant at first. There was nothing in the backyard. Except—

      “I’d like permission to use your greenhouse, Kyle,” she said.

      “My mom’s greenhouse.” Past memories, very personal memories, of the joys he shared inside that greenhouse built inside his head but he suppressed them. Kyle was suddenly irrationally annoyed at the way Sara kept pushing her way into his world. All he wanted was to be alone. “What could you possibly want that for?”

      “Last night Laurel told me some of the boys’ histories so I’d understand why they’re at Lives.” She sat down. A tiny line furrowed her brow as she studied her hands. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to discuss them.”

      “I’ll keep whatever you want to tell me confidential,” Kyle promised, curiosity mounting.

      “Laurel says one of the boys is quite withdrawn. Rod.” She peeked through her lashes at him. “But he did very well when he was involved in a program at a tree nursery.”

      Kyle waited, surprised by her earnest tone.

      “Of course, there aren’t any tree nurseries here in Churchill,” Sara said, “but I thought that if he could get involved in growing something, it might help. We don’t have the capability at Lives. But I remembered seeing your greenhouse when we were here yesterday. If Rod could grow fresh herbs, I could use them in my cooking. Laurel said we’d share whatever we grew with you.” Her silver-gray eyes never left his face. “If you agree to let us use the greenhouse, that is.”

      “I see.” Kyle studied the glass structure. “The roof might not be stable, you know. I’d have to have it checked, maybe repaired.”

      A disappointed look flickered across her face. “You’re saying no?”

      “I’m saying I don’t know.” Kyle didn’t want to reveal any sign of weakness, and having her see his injured leg made him feel weak, so he strapped on his prosthesis, rolled down his pant leg then slid his feet into a pair of his father’s moccasins. “Let’s go out and take a look.”

      “Okay.” Sara pulled on the thin jacket she’d shed when she first came inside.

      “You’ll freeze if that’s all you have to wear until summer gets here,” he warned.

      Sara chuckled, her smile brimming with something he couldn’t quite define. All Kyle knew was that little seemed to faze this woman. A twinkle in those gorgeous eyes told him she’d faced much worse than cold weather, and come out on top.

      “I’ll be fine, Kyle.”

      He had a strong feeling that Sara Kane would be fine, though he couldn’t have said why. Perhaps it was the resolute determination in her manner. Sara Kane wouldn’t give up easily. He admired that.

      “Open that cupboard. There should be a jacket in there, a red one.” He didn’t tell her the coat was special. He simply watched as she drew out his mother’s red parka. “Try it on.”

      Sara shrugged into the coat. Her transformation was spectacular. A bird of paradise—she looked magnificent, delicate and incongruous in this land of icy winds and frozen tundra. The color lent life to her, enhancing subtle undertones in her hair and making her skin glow with a beauty Kyle had almost missed.

      “I don’t think any of our guests ever looked as good as you in that.”

      “Your guests?” She pulled the faux-fur collar around her ears and studied herself in the mirror, seemingly bemused by what she saw.

      “Dad and I ran a guiding company,” he told her. “There are gloves in the pockets, I think.”

      “Guiding? What does that mean?” She pulled on the gloves and bent her fingers experimentally, as if she expected the gloves’ thickness to impede movement.

      “Guiding tourists to see the local sights,” he explained. “The northern lights, whale watching in a Zodiac, ATV treks into the wilderness or jaunts to see the polar bears—we did it all.” Bitterness oozed between his words, rendering his tone brittle and harsh, but even though he heard it, Kyle found it impossible to suppress his sense of utter loss.

      “Polar bears.” Sara’s eyes were huge. She peeked over her shoulder as if expecting one to pounce from the bedroom.

      “Churchill is famous for its polar bears. But it’s late in the season. When the ice goes out they leave to hunt seals. This year it’s very early but the ice is almost gone. Global warming, I suppose.” Kyle hated the fear pinching her pretty face. He rushed to reassure her. “But even if some bears are still hanging around, you don’t have to worry. There’s a town patrol that does a good job of keeping tabs on the bears’ whereabouts. Sometimes you’ll hear gunshots—pops,” he modified when her eyes expanded even more. “The noises deter the bears. I didn’t hear any on the way here yesterday or so far this morning, so it should be okay.”

      “Uh-huh.” Sara inhaled and thrust back her shoulders as if she were about to venture into battle.

      “Listen, Sara.” Kyle leaned forward. “Before we go outside I want to tell you something.”

      “Okay.” It looked like she was holding her breath.

      “Churchill is very safe.” He grabbed his jacket off the hook near the door. “But we tell this to everyone who comes here to prepare them. Just in case.”

      “In case.” She gulped. “Right.”

      “It might seem counterintuitive to you, but if you do happen upon a bear, do not turn your back on him and do not run.” Gently. Don’t terrorize her, Kyle. “Either of those actions will make you look like prey to him.”

      “Which I will be,” she pointed out in a whisper, her face now devoid of all color.

      “Well, yes.” He had to smile. “But what you want is to look like his adversary. Make yourself as tall as possible. Put your arms in the air and wave them. Yell as loud as you can. But do not run.” Why did he suddenly feel he had to protect her? “Bears love the chase.”

      “Okay.” She trembled, her alarm visible.

      Kyle had wanted Sara to be cautious. Instead he’d alarmed her.

      Her eyes lost their silver sheen and darkened. She looked petrified.

      Way to go, Kyle.

      “I’d offer to drive you back, but I don’t think I could drive, even if Dad’s old truck was running. He cracked it up just before—” He swallowed, forced himself to continue. “Anyway, I don’t have transport.”

      “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Sara didn’t look fine. She looked like someone who had dredged up her last ounce of courage to face the lion’s den.

      “Yes, you will be,” Kyle agreed. “Now let’s go take a look at Mom’s greenhouse.” He rose, ignored the twinge of pain in his hip and followed her outside, СКАЧАТЬ