Free All Through The House by Janice Kay Johnson Page B

expression. "Never?" she repeated incredulously.
    "I couldn't blame her. Dad beat her when he'd had a
little too much. Since he boozed every night, that was pretty often. She saw
her chance and ran."
    Abigail touched his arm. "You don't even
sound...." She groped for a word.
    "Hurt? Mad?" A flicker of emotion she couldn't
quite read crossed his lean face, though his tone was matter-of-fact. "I
was both. But that was years ago. I survived. And now I'm ready...." he
raised his voice as he stood, stretching, "to hit the snow field. What
d'ye say, short stuff?"
    Kate giggled. "Yeah!"
    "How about you?" He raised a brow, looking down at
Abigail.
    Shock still clutched at her. How could a mother walk away
from a childlike Nate and never look back? How could a boy deserted like that
grow up to be a man as strong as this? His father certainly wasn't responsible.
Had he done it alone?
    In the face of her silence his smile faded, leaving his
expression inscrutable. But his voice was still humorous. "Guess we're on
our own, short stuff."
    On our own. But never the way he had been. "Let
me...pack our trash," Abigail said. "I'll be along."
    His gaze didn't leave her face for a long moment, until at
last he inclined his head. "Sure."
    Sandwich bags and juice cans stuffed in the pack, Abigail
trailed the tall man and her small daughter up to the snow pack. Standing
beside it felt like opening a freezer door. Chilly air poured off the ice,
hitting the wall of July heat. Stepping gingerly, Abigail slipped and slithered
to where Nate was holding Kate's hand as she ran a few steps and slid, giggling.
The snow crunched underfoot.
    Nate flashed a grin at Abigail. "Shall we ski?"
    "Who's going to hold me up?" she retorted.
    "At your service, ma'am." He held his free hand
out.
    The invitation was too tantalizing to ignore. She remembered
the romantic, magical walk on the dock, how secure his hand had felt. Kate was
giggling and chattering, but Abigail couldn't hear her. She lifted her hand,
watching Nate's face as his closed around it. He smiled lightly, even
self-mockingly, but his gray eyes were dark and grave. His fingers were as
strong as she'd remembered, as gentle, as warm.
    She was totally unprepared when he tugged, and her feet
slipped out from under her. Abigail tumbled against him, and he released her
hand to wrap his arm around her waist. One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin
so wicked, so sexy, her heart flipped over.
    His eyes didn't leave her face, his mouth wasn't more than
inches away from hers, though he spoke to her four-year-old. In a low, husky
voice, he said, "What d'ye think, Kate that rhymes? Does your mom need a
lesson in snow travel?"
    "Watch me, Mommy," Kate declared. She jumped and
slid a whole foot, secured by Nate's strong grip.
    All the while he hadn't released Abigail. The long, hard
line of his thigh and hip were imprinted on hers. She'd instinctively braced
herself against his chest, and under her palm his heart beat in a slow,
powerful rhythm. When Kate looked inquiringly up at her mother, Abigail
struggled loose.
    Her cheeks were hot despite the cold. Flustered, she declared
childishly, "If Kate can do it, so can I!"
    Nate's devilish gaze met hers. He held out his hand again.
"Care for a safety line?"
    She brushed dark curls back from her face. "So long as
it doesn't trip me."
    This time his hand felt both warm and secure. The three of
them ran and slipped, falling onto the shockingly cold snow a couple of times.
Laughing, wet, at last they stepped off the ice into the heat.
    "Onward and upward," Nate declared.
    They half scrambled up a rocky ridge, following faint,
scattered trails and the sound of voices. Abigail had to stop Kate from picking
the wildflowers, small red columbines, and purple larkspur. After one last
glance at Big Four above, waterfalls tumbling hundreds of feet off its face,
they topped the ridge and saw the caves.
    Ice bridges arched above gravelly streams. The underside of
the snow field had