Harley sat cross-legged on the braided rug, her hands in Orlando’s fur, lost in the firelight. The dog released a contented sigh.
Jericho sat on the other side of Orlando. “My dog likes you.” The words came out softer than he’d intended.
“I like him too.” A smile touched her mouth, real this time. Not the weirdly careful one she’d worn at dinner.
“You know, there’s this phenomenon with injured dogs.” He touched Orlando’s soft fur. “They always go to the person who makes them feel safest. Usually it’s their trainer, but...” He let the words trail off, not sure how to finish the thought.
She glanced up, firelight catching the gold in her eyes. Something inside him shifted and her words from earlier rose.“Sometimes allwe need is someone to remind us who we are.”
Maybe. Being around her had certainly stirred up memories of the guy he’d wanted to be. And, of course, followed by the terrible moment when he realized he’d never measure up to his own expectations.
Let alone hers.
The wind howled down the chimney, threw sparks against the metal fireplace screen. Outside, something cracked—a tree branch giving way under the storm’s weight.
Harley flinched.
“Hey.” He blamed instinct for the way he reached out and caught her fingers. “We’re safe here.”
She looked at him but didn’t move her hand. “You still think you can save me from everything.”
“I never thought I could save—”
“Yes, you do. It’s the curse of the oldest child.”
He frowned, then sighed. “Maybe. Okay, yes.”
Under their hands, Orlando lifted his head and broke their touch. His ears flickered back, as if hearing something.
Jericho leaned back against the sofa, crossed his legs at the ankles. “When I was about ten years old, we had this big storm. Just like this one. And after three days being cooped up, it finally relented. Sully and I decided to go sledding on that big hill behind our house.” His gaze fixed on the flames. “Mom and Dad had this rule about staying within sight of the house.”
“I remember that rule. My parents had it too.”
“Yeah, well, there was this ridge—”
“I know the one. That isdefinitelyoutside the view of your house.” She angled a curious smile at him. “Wait ... you went outside the fence?”
“Probably Sully’s idea.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Anyway, it had some cool caves and I’m not sure who decided it would be a good idea to explore one—”
“Sully never could resist a cave.”
“I was the oldest—”
“And there it is.” She bumped his shoulder with hers, looked up at him and smiled.
Oh, she was pretty. A disarming, girl-next-door kind of sweet, pretty, because in her golden-brown eyes, a sort of fierceness dwelled. In the past it lit a fire in him, like a dare.
Or a mission.
So, yes, he’d wanted to protect her. Still did. He swallowed, looked back at Orlando who’d put his head down.
“Anyway,” he said, “we climbed into a bear’s den. Down at the bottom of the ravine.”
“What?”
“A hibernating grizzly. We didn’t wake him, miraculously,and we backed out, real slow, real quiet. Then we ran all the way home, falling over ourselves in the snow. Never breathed a word to our parents.”
“That was close.”
