Claire watched that big, strong hand stroke the yellow fur and envy flooded her. It had been a long time since a man had run his fingers through her hair. A long time since shed allowed anyone close enough to touch her at all. But this was the wrong man to want that from.
She pushed aside her need for physical contact. Where are you from?
That obvious, huh?
She grinned. Most Oregonians dont have an accent.
Both brows rose again. Sure you do. You just dont hear it.
She pulled her chin in. Really?
He laughed and the sound warmed her all over. Yes, really.
Bemused that she sounded as different to him as he did to her, she probed, And youre from?
Long Island.
Youre a long way from home.
His ebony eyes took on a faraway glaze. Yes. A long way from home.
The loneliness in his voice plucked at her. Where are you staying?
His gaze came back to her, those dark eyes alight with an unidentifiable emotion. Im not.
Curiosity gripped her. Where are you headed?
He shrugged again.
A drifter. A twinge of sadness weaved through her curiosity. Did the pain shed seen earlier drive him to keep moving, to drift through life? Looking at his tall, lean frame, she wondered when hed eaten last. The familiar urge to help, to do something, rose within her.
Could I make you lunch as a way of saying thanks? She pointed to the gray two-story building at the north end of the park. I live there.
He stopped, tilted his head to one side, and studied her. She gave him a smile of encouragement and tried to slow the pounding of her heart. This man with his dark good looks and bad-boy image was just the kind of guy to turn her crank. But she wasnt going to let her crank be turned again only to be left idling on the side of the road. Her smile stiffened.
Dont you know you shouldnt talk to strangers, let alone invite them in?
She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Shed heard similar warnings from all the well-meaning people of Pineridge who thought she shouldnt open her heart and home to the teens.
Granted, this man was far from a teenager. But he posed a threat on so many levels that she would be wise to heed the warning. Wisdom was something she was still working on. I run a shelter. Inviting strangers in is part of what I do.
A shelter?
A teen shelter, to be exact.
Why?
She sighed. The infernal question seemed to be at the top of everyones list of questions and asked in the same wary, derisive tone, though his held more edge to it. The stigma of runaway teenagers is that theyre crazy and out of control. But theyre still just kids. Yeah, theyre rough and tough and act horribly at times. But deep down most are scared, confused and need help.
But why you? He seemed genuinely interested.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the unvarnished truth. Why she felt compelled to make him understand was a mystery. So instead she settled for her pat response. I remember the anxiety and chaos of those teen years. If I can make a difference in someones life, I know I was put on this earth for a reason.
Thats admirable.
His compliment pleased her, as did the almost wistful look on his handsome face.
But woefully misguided. His expression hardened. Thank you for the offer, but I should be heading out.
Why are you in such a hurry, if you dont know where youre headed?
He leaned toward her, his jet-black eyes probing and his decidedly masculine scent, full of leather and the outdoors, engulfing her senses. Youre tenacious.
Her spine stiffened and she lifted her chin. Persistence is a virtue.
Amusement danced in his gaze. Patience is a virtue.
Her cheeks flamed at being corrected. I consider both to be virtues.
That appealing half-grin flashed again. Both are admirable traits. His tone dropped to a deep and husky timbre that she found fully alluring. His accent rasped along her skin like a velvet caress. Her knees wobbled and knocked together. Weve established you have persistence, but do you have patience?
Oh, yeah, she had patience. Hard-won and, at the moment, stretched taut.
Every instinct warned her that this man could endanger her vow to be self-sufficient with nothing more than his smile, let alone how his voice lulled her senses, and threatened to impair her judgment. He could make her want to lose herself in those dark eyes with one glance.
She didnt need or want a man in her life. Never again would she allow herself to be vulnerable to the whims of a guy, to be used and abandoned, forgotten.
She stepped back, needing to put distance between them. Shed offered help. Hed said no. She needed to accept that. Time to stay focused and in control of her own responses.
Be safe. Her voice sounded breathless. And she didnt like it.
This time there was no half-grin, but a full-blown, toe-curling smile that sent her blood zooming. He saluted and then sauntered to a low slung, shiny chrome-and-black motorcycle with the unmistakable winged insignia of a Harley.
He threw one long, lean leg over the seat, looking at home on the bike. He plucked a black, sleek-looking helmet from where it hung on the handlebars and put it on. A second later the bike came to life with a thundering rumble.
Hey, she yelled over the noise of the engine and stepped closer.
He gave her a questioning look.
Whats your name? She didnt know why it was important, but she needed to know.
His eyes widened slightly, then a slow smile touched his lips. Nick.
His smile made her heart leap. Hed stormed into her life like a knight of old and performed a heroic deed, all the while putting her female senses into overdrive.
He flipped down the visor on the helmet and rolled away. She watched him turn the corner toward downtown Pineridge and then disappear from sight. It was a good thing hed roared out of her life before shed lost her head and done something embarrassing like drool.
Well. She stood rooted to the ground for a moment as her heart resumed its natural rhythm. She held the puppy up and stared into his sweet little brown eyes. The puppy licked at her face. She laughed and hugged him close. Gwen was going to just love the little guy.
Well, little Nick, you want to come home with me?
Nick Andrews couldnt get the pretty blonde out of his head. The womans heart gleamed in her baby blues and every subtle and not-so-subtle expression that had crossed her face.
Oh, she had courage, hed give her that. Not many womenlet alone menwould have stood up to those punks. She cared for those street urchins. But she might as well have worn a sign that said Heartache Welcome.
She talked a good game, how they were just kids in need of some help. He didnt believe it.
Thankfully she wasnt his problem. No matter how attractive the package or how much he admired her spunk, he had enough to deal with. He wasnt exposing his heart to the pain of loss again.
He gunned the engine and took the exit out of Pineridge that dropped him onto Interstate 84 headed west toward Portland. As he jockeyed for a position in the traffic, a sharp urge to turn back assaulted him.
He frowned, convinced he was being paranoid.
Yet he couldnt shake the image of Tylers slicing gesture.
Nah, the kid didnt have the guts to do anything serious. Just throw a defenseless animal around, a tiny voice inside reminded.
Nicks jaw tightened.
The kid was a bad seed. Nick had seen eyes like that before. The eyes of a killer.
Man, hed have pulverized that kid in the park, would have gladly exorcised two years of bottled rage on the punk, if the blonde hadnt restrained him with her gentle touch.
He hadnt even asked her name.
Not my problem.
But yet
He wove around a slow-moving truck. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the nagging feeling he should turn back. Serena would have said it was Gods nudging, but God had been quiet two years ago when a nudging could have saved her life.
So why would God start communicating with him now?
Twenty miles ahead the freeway split. He could either take the interstate exit for I-5 North heading toward Washington State and on up to Canada or he could take I-5 South toward California.
He was at a fork in the road, literally. Which way to turn? How far could he go to outrun the past? Where would he find peace? What had he done to deserve such punishment? How could he leave the blonde so unprotected?
Shes not my problem! he shouted.
The words swirled around inside his helmet until they were sucked out by the rushing wind.
Chapter Two
Here you go, little Nick. Claire set a plastic bowl full of water on the linoleum floor in the kitchen area. Nick?
The puppy had been sniffing around the kitchen floor moments ago. Now the little scamp was out of sight. Claire walked into the open area of The Zone. She looked under the Ping-Pong table that the Jordan family had donated, and behind the brown corduroy sofa shed found at Goodwill. Nick, here boy. Where are you?
She wasnt equipped to care for a puppy. She needed dog food, a collar and a doghouse. Whew, the list was endless and could be expensive. She shrugged. Whatever was needed, shed find a way to provide. She couldnt turn the dog out any more than she could a human.
Ah, there you are.
The little fluff ball was snuggled up against a bright yellow beanbag chair. Claire scooped him up and he licked her chin. Thank you for the kiss. I wonder who you belong to. Id sure be upset if Id lost such a cutie. She snuggled her cheek into his soft fur. Shed have to make flyers and post them around town. Surely Nicks owners would be looking for him.
And if no one claimed him?
She would keep him.
She carried him back to the kitchen and set him down in front of the bowl. His black nose sniffed at the plastic rim and then, apparently deciding it was okay, he lapped at the water.
Thirsty boy. Claire smiled at the ball of fur. Tenderness tightened her chest. Shed never had a dog before. She was excited by the prospect, but her internal monitor quickly warned not to expect to keep him. Somewhere out there were the little guys owners.
She found a blanket in the closet under the stairs and made a cozy bed on the floor in the kitchen.
Here you go, Nick, she said, picking up the puppy and setting him on the blanket. He walked in a circle, sniffing at the material.
A bump sounded from beyond the wall of the kitchen. Nick paused; his ears perked up. Claire walked to the window over the sink and peered out. Nothing on the grassy yard stretching to the woods that edged the property. She twisted her head, craning to see left, then right. Nothing.
Probably a squirrel, she muttered to Nick. Youll like chasing those when youre older. She wagged a finger at the dog. I dont think youll ever catch one, but if you do, dont bring it home. Wherever your home ends up being.
Nick plopped down in the middle of the makeshift dog bed and rested his head on his paws.
Look at the size of your paws. She shook her head. Youre going to be a big one, arent you? Just like your namesake.
The image of the tall, dark man sitting on his gleaming motorcycle made her flush again. He was the stuff dreams were made of. A modern-day knight coming to the rescue. But she didnt need to be rescued. She could take care of herself.
What was his story? Where would he end up?
There was something compelling about his dark eyes. Shed seen pain and intelligence, rage and mischief there. The way hed smiled at her when hed said his name was enough to make any womans knees weak. The man was too handsome. But not in a pretty boy way or even a GQ way. The angle of his nose, the jut of his whiskered chin and the planes of his cheeks could have been sculpted by a masters hand.
She gave a wry laugh. Well, he had been, you dolt. God had done a nice job on Mister Nick. On the outside to be sure, but on the inside?
A man who stepped in when he saw trouble was a rarity indeed. A man who carried a Bible with him out in the open even rarer. Was he a man after Gods own heart?
Shed never know. He was long gone now, just a wonderful memory of a guy on a bike whod offered his help and wanted nothing in return. Definitely a rarity.
A man like Nick would be hard to resist. Good thing she wouldnt face that temptation again.
With a quick glance to make sure the puppy still slept, Claire headed for her officea small room located in the front of the house. It was an ideal spot to work and still be able to keep an eye on the main area of The Zone.
The bedrooms were all upstairs and shed taken the largest of the five bedrooms at the far end of the hall. Gwens room was at the top of the stairs while the other three rooms were in various degrees of readiness for taking on more teens. Not that Gwen was a teen any longer. She was a college student now with a part-time joba far cry from the strung-out, skinny orphan Claire and Aunt Denise had first brought home.
Having Gwen come into their lives solidified Claires desire to start a shelter. Shed decided to open it here in Pineridge because no such facility existed in the area.
But there would be soon.
Claire sat at her desk and rummaged through files and notes. There was still so much to do before she could officially open. More government hoops to jump through, the community to convince and teens to build trust with.
And a puppy to care for. She compiled a list of needs for Nick. Just in case she was unsuccessful in finding his owners, she wanted to be prepared. Then she went to work on her plans for The Zone.
The clock ticked by another hour.
The hairs on the back of her neck raised and chills raced down her spine. Something wasnt right.
The loud shrill of three fire alarms pierced the quiet. Heart pounding with dread, she jumped from the chair and raced into the living room. A gray haze hung in the air, stinging her eyes and burning her lungs.
Fire!
Nick!
She raced toward the kitchen. Smoke billowed from beneath the crack in the back door and through the open window over the sink, filling the room with frightening quickness. She heard the puppy whimper, but she couldnt tell from where.
She dropped to her knees like shed been told to do in elementary school. She crawled across the floor toward the kitchen. The heavy smoke swirled around, making it difficult to see.
The puppys blanket was empty. She crawled out of the kitchen. Nick! she called again, taking in smoke. She winced as her lungs spasmed. In the laundry room she found the puppy huddled in a corner, its little body shaking.