Mountain Laurel Page 4

  "It's too bad you're already branded, Michael Walker," she said aloud.

  The rustle of underbrush caught her attention and she stopped to look around. A raccoon was scratching at the ground, and she crouched down to watch the furry bandit as it stretched and climbed atop a tree stump. The animal's black-and-white-ringed tail was so long that, as it hung over the edge of the rotting wood, it almost touched the ground.

  "Beautiful," Laurel whispered.

  Moving slightly to the left get a better look, she inhaled sharply as a hand clamped down on her shoulder, pushing her roughly to her knees.

  Chapter Three

  She stifled a scream, her heart pounding in her chest.

  "Shh," a male voice whispered in her ear.

  Jerking herself loose from his grasp, Laurel twisted around to see Michael's face two inches from her own. Exhaling sharply, she glared at him.

  "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

  "Shh!" He watched the raccoon closely. The animal was alert, staring in their direction, and he warily sniffed the air before returning to his search for breakfast. They silently watched it for several moments.

  "Isn't he cute?" Laurel finally whispered. Michael seemed not to hear, so intent was he on the raccoon.

  Suddenly aware of Michael's chest pressing tightly against her arm, she grew warm as the heat of him penetrated her thin jacket. Every nerve in her body came alive. Turning her head toward him once more, she lifted her chin slightly. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the woodsy scent of him. She felt surrounded by his presence. The steady pressure of his body against hers gave her an unbelievable sense of security. She fought desperately against the strong, almost overpowering, urge to relax against him. Her eyes snapped open as he moved away from her. She turned her head away, surprised and embarrassed that she felt shaky. Laurel desperately hoped he didn't notice the trembling that his closeness caused her. A quick, anxious glance at his face assured her she was safe, that his concentration was focused strictly on the raccoon. Then she noticed the rifle he was carrying and watched in disbelief as he slowly raised it to his shoulder.

  The warm security inside her chilled to an icy horror as she saw him take aim at the defenseless animal. Without thinking, she grabbed the barrel of the gun, shoving it down hard toward the ground. "No!"

  The scream frightened the raccoon and it scampered into the thick underbrush.

  "What the devil did you do that for?" He stood and angrily reset the safety on the rifle. "Do you realize that I've been tracking that animal for over two hours?"

  Laurel jumped to her feet, her eyes fixed on him in a stern glare.

  "You were going to shoot that poor thing!" she accused him, then jeeringly added, "What a big, mighty hunter you are!"

  "Tranquilize!" He shook the gun. "I was going to tranquilize 'that poor thing'!"

  The anger she felt drained from her body like water gurgling from a wide-mouthed bottle. Standing there dazed and numb, she watched as his irritation seemed to dissolve with a heavy sigh.

  "Look, raccoons are strictly nocturnal animals." He spoke to her with the exaggerated patience one would use on a child. "That means if you see one out during the day, it's probably sick, maybe even rabid. It could very well be a threat to the other animals in the area. I was going to tranquilize that animal, cage it and have it watched."

  Laurel was mortified. She'd done it again. Every single time she met this man she acted asinine. "I'm sorry." Miserable, she looked down at the ground and swallowed convulsively. It took all the courage she could muster to look him in the eye. "I didn't know."

  Once again lowering her gaze, she wondered what it was about this man that left her feeling so uncertain, so inadequate. She, who single-handedly managed a successful business, who took excellent care of a sick parent and practically raised her younger sister, never felt incompetent. Not until she met Michael Walker, that is.

  He curled his fingers under her chin and gently lifted until their eyes locked. "It's okay." His smile was kind, his look oddly intense and full of tender warmth.

  His thumb softly caressed the silky skin of her jaw, then he bent and placed a light kiss on the corner of her mouth. "These forests and creatures mean a lot to me." His voice was quiet, almost reverent. "It's nice to know someone else cares as much as I do." He lightly smoothed her furrowed brow and added, "Don't worry, he won't hide for long."

  Laurel felt her brows draw together as she watched him tramp off in the same direction the raccoon had taken. Her frown wasn't caused by worrying about the animal. In fact, she'd forgotten all about it. Her frown was due to a much different reason.

  His kiss had caught her off guard, his soft, warm lips barely touching hers before it was over. Not having time to savor the moment had been frustrating, but what confused her was the warm tingling, something akin to electricity, that skittered across her breasts and downward, urging her to lean forward and slide her arms around him. But, thank goodness, she hadn't had time to act before he'd pulled away. And afterward, as he stared at her, his heavy-lidded eyes seemed filled with...

  With what? If she didn't know better, she'd say desire. But that's impossible, she thought. Ridiculous, even. The man was going to be married. Shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders, she shook herself out of this silly sentimentality and passed his quirky behavior off as gratitude. She had shown concern over one of his forest creatures. That's all it was. That's all it could have been.

  But as she walked back along the path toward the cabin, the frown remained, furrowing deep creases in her brow.

  ~ ~ ~

  Glancing at her sister swaying in time to the music, Laurel turned the knob of the car radio, reducing the volume of the only rock station Ginny could find.

  "Tonight I'm going to teach you the meaning of the words 'good time.'" Ginny shimmied her shoulders and laughed.

  Holding back the dubious retort that threatened to spill off the tip of her tongue, Laurel placed both hands back on the steering wheel and stared out at the road as far as the headlights would allow. Driving along the narrow winding mountain road during the day had made her nervous. At night it terrified her. However, the road conditions were only one reason she was driving like a little old lady on her way to church. She'd more than once experienced reservations about tonight and wasn't sure that she should be participating in this wager at all. But she'd tried everything else. If this was the only way to get her sister to consider college, she'd play Ginny's game.

  "We'll never get into town if you don't speed it up a little," Ginny complained.

  "Just be patient," Laurel said, not taking her eyes off the road. "These roads are dangerous."

  "I know what you're trying to do."

  Picturing the impish grin on Ginny's face, Laurel slowed the car to a crawl to turn a particularly hazardous curve.

  "You're trying to get out of our bet." Ginny paused only an instant before she shrugged and said, "That's fine with me. You just remember not to pester me again about college."

  "I am not trying to get out of the bet." Not wanting Ginny to notice her misgivings, she smirked. "In fact, I may teach you a thing or two." Stopping at a traffic light on the edge of town, she turned to Ginny with a sly smile, then chuckled at her sister's surprised expression.

  "Yes." Laurel grinned. "We may discover that I have an untapped talent for having fun. So, stand back, Oakland, here I come!"

  They drove along the dark and empty main street through the small, seemingly desolate town.

  "Not much going on, is there?" Laurel finally asked.

  "Nothing, I'd say." Disappointment rounded Ginny's shoulders to a slump.

  "Oh, come on now. Don't give up so easily." Laurel turned the car down a side street and pointed. "Look there. Lights, people. This could be promising."

  The tires crunched on the gravel lot as Laurel found a parking space at the end of a row. Removing the keys from the ignition, she studied her sister's discour
aged expression in the shadows.

  "What's the problem?"

  Ginny scowled at the door of the building. "1 can't believe that all this town has to offer on a Saturday night is bingo at the local fire hall."

  "Would you come on!" Laurel unhooked her seat belt then reached over to give her sister's shoulder a nudge. "You don't know that it's bingo. And, who knows, bingo might be fun." She opened her door and mumbled under her breath, "It's certainly more my speed than what you had on the agenda for tonight."

  As the women stepped out of the car a faint tune drifted out to them, perking Ginny up immediately. "This may not be so bad after all," she said.

  A large sign posted at the door read Welcome! Autumn Glory Festival Kickoff Dance.

  The large, brightly lit room was filled with people of every age. Rows of trestle tables were filled with an array of mugs, glasses, soda cans, beer pitchers and plastic cups. The band was doing its best to ruin a well-known pop tune, but the crowd didn't seem to mind. Loud laughter and an open spirit of camaraderie permeated the air.

  "How about if I get us a beer?" Ginny's eyes sparkled with excitement.

  "I'll have soda, thanks. And so will you."

  "Party pooper!"

  Laurel took an empty seat and watched her sister cruise up to the bar. Almost immediately, Ginny was approached by a tall, blond teenager. Her laughing features tilted up to his as they talked. Laurel sighed and turned to face the band.

  I'm going to be a terrible failure at this, she thought. Ginny was completely comfortable laughing with strangers, striking up conversations that led to evenings filled with casual fun. Could she do that? Nope. Strangers made her nervous and loud music gave her a headache. Yes, indeed, too many years spent taking care of too many responsibilities had pretty much suffocated her fun gene.

  She smiled at the thought and placed her elbow on the table, resting her head in her hand. With eyes closed, she listened as the band played a half beat behind the singer's soprano voice.

  What she needed was a nice, quiet man. A man who liked to spend his evenings playing Rummy or working crossword puzzles. But how would she ever find a guy like that in a place like this? It would certainly save a lot of trouble if he would find her...

  Laurel smile widened as Michael's rugged image immediately appeared in her mind. Not wanting to admit that she'd made a fool of herself again, she hadn't told Ginny about meeting him on the path that morning. Her heart beat faster as she recalled his taut muscles and the heat she'd felt when his body touched hers. Remembering his kindhearted disregard of her rashness concerning the raccoon, she felt a warmth curl in her stomach even now. If only his lips had stayed on hers a while longer. If only she could have had time to respond!

  She chuckled, then silently chided herself. He's already taken. Sighing, she twisted around to see what was taking her sister so long.

  Ginny was still talking with the tall blond, and Laurel sat up straighter when she saw that Michael had joined them. She watched as her sister pointed in her direction and Michael's gaze followed.

  "Oh, God," Laurel moaned as he strolled over. "I am not going to look like an idiot this time."

  Smiling easily, he set a soda down by her arm and took the seat next to her.

  "Hello."

  She nodded a greeting, afraid that if she opened her mouth she might have to pry her foot out of it.

  "I saw your sister up at the bar and told her I'd bring you your soda. I hope you don't mind."

  Laurel only smiled in answer.

  "I wanted you to know that I caught the raccoon. I heard from the vet this evening. It was sick and had to be put down."

  "Oh." The word came from the back of her throat, low and sad.

  "Don't worry. It didn't feel any pain." Michael placed his elbow on the table and swirled his frothy beer in his mug.

  Laurel watched, transfixed, as he took a deep swallow, and she had to curl her fingers into a fist to fight the urge to reach out and touch muscle and sinew of his tanned throat.

  "With the shape that raccoon was in," he continued, "it could have made a lot of other animals sick."

  It was then that Ginny pulled out a metal chair, its legs grating loudly against the tile floor, and plopped down across from Laurel. Three other teenagers joined her at the table and she introduced Laurel to them all.

  The name of the tall blond mooning over Ginny was Eric. Laurel was mildly surprised to hear from the conversation that he was eighteen. Despite his height, his slim shoulders and lanky build looked more suited to a boy much younger. Sitting next to Michael's manly brawn, she mused, put Eric at a distinct disadvantage. The girls' names were Sharon and Nancy.

  When a lively song began to play, Eric asked Ginny to dance, and after they left the table Laurel and Michael talked to the two girls who stayed behind.

  "So, Sharon, what are your plans now that you've graduated?" Michael directed his query to the plump brunette sitting across from him.

  "I'm going to do some traveling," she said, barely able to contain her boisterous energy. "My grandmother lives in California. I'll be going to visit her right after Thanksgiving. As soon as I save enough money, though, I'm going to go everywhere, see everything."

  "How about you, Nancy?" Laurel asked the other girl.

  "I'm a freshman at Frostburg State." Nancy's demeanor was shy, her voice soft. "I'm majoring in elementary education. I love kids, and I've always wanted to teach. I can't think of anything more important than educating this country's children." Realizing her impassioned tone, she blushed crimson.

  "She comes home to visit me every weekend, since the university's only an hour away." Sharon glanced at her friend, her brow furrowing. "I don't know what we'll do when I go away."

  Laurel smiled, thinking the two girls couldn't be more different. Sharon's rambunctiousness was as different to Nancy's philosophic primness as night was to day. Hearing the girls talk of their hopes and dreams made Laurel feel much older than her twenty-four years. Did she ever have dreams of changing the world? Maybe once, she thought wistfully, a long time ago. Before she became so involved helping her family survive.

  Eric and Ginny returned to the table completely out of breath after their vigorous dance. Sitting down, they both took long draws on their sodas. When one of the band members announced the next tune, Ginny gave Eric an almost inconspicuous nudge. The gangly teen moved closer to Laurel.

  "Would you like to dance?"

  "Um...uh," Laurel felt her neck and face flush hot.

  The beginning beats of a slow tune drifted through the room and the lights went dim. It had been so long since she'd danced. And a slow one at that! She was sure to step on the kid's toes and end up looking like a fool. Yet, Ginny's steady gaze glistened with a taunt; it was clear the teen was sure she was going to win their bet.

  "Sorry," Michael said, his warm hand closing possessively over Laurel's wrist as he spoke to Eric. "She's promised this one to me." He gently pulled her from the chair, then his hold slid from her wrist to her hand. Her skin tingled as his warm grasp surrounded her icy fingers. Propelling her to the dance floor with a firm hand on her lower back, Michael cleared a path through the throng of people.

  Oh, Lord, Laurel thought. She'd have much rather looked like a fool with Eric. Glancing around, she saw the other couples on the floor begin to sway to the music.

  Michael stopped and gently twirled Laurel around to face him. When she didn't move into position, he looked questioningly into her eyes.

  "You look like you've been led to the gallows."

  "I was just thinking that you may be sorry about this." Her mouth closed in a grim smile.

  "Oh?"

  "I haven't...it's been a...this isn't something..." When words finally failed her, she tried to finish the explanation with a dismal shake of her head. Slowly raising her lashes, she looked at him ruefully.

  "Hey, this is supposed to be an enjoyable experience," he said, offering her an engaging smile. "Trust me."


  He placed one of her hands lightly on his shoulder; the other he held in the crook of his hand. Reaching around her, he rested his other hand on the small of her back.

  "Relax. I'll guide you."

  Before she had a chance to react, he pulled her closer to him.

  After a few tentative steps, his steady guiding pressure gave her a small semblance of confidence, and she felt the tension in her shoulders loosen. She didn't want to think about anything: making a fool of herself, or her rebel of a sister, or the problems that might be taking place back home, or anything. She only wanted to move with this man, to get lost in the crooning singer's words that complained of a life without love.

  Laurel looked up into Michael's face and found his dark eyes staring at her. Unnerved by his intense gaze, she glanced over his shoulder. He pulled her closer, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for her to rest her cheek on his shoulder.

  She inhaled slowly, deeply. He smelled so good. She watched his pulse beating in his throat and found herself wanting desperately to get closer, to press her nose directly to his skin. Noticing a short lock of his hair that curled toward his ear, she ran a finger over it lightly. It stayed in place only a moment before softly springing back. Michael let go of her hand and tugged her into an even more intimate position. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she wrapped both arms around his muscular back and hoped the song would never end. After a few slow beats, she pulled back a little and lifted her head, and she saw the same dreamy expression on his face that she was certain was on her own. She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her mouth.

  "You're not as rusty as you thought," he whispered.

  "Mmm," she agreed, her smile widening.

  She switched positions, sliding her arms up and clasping her hands behind his neck. His gaze took on a velvety warmth even in this dim light, and she knew he was going to kiss her.