The Depths 0f Winter (Shifting Seasons Book 3) Page 5

  I slunk back into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ever woken up so miserable. I’d always relished the mornings, the sounds of songbirds and the rising of dawn. I hadn’t been this unhappy in a long while.

  Not since Rene, I thought grimly. I loathed the way my ex-husband continued to make his way back into my thoughts. Just when I’d thought I’d washed my hands of him entirely, he came back.

  I opened my laptop and logged onto the school board’s website, looking for an option to digitally announce my absence without using the phone. Of course I couldn’t be that lucky, but how would I know? I’d never called in sick a day since I’d started at Novak. I’d savored the idea that I didn’t need to hide a black eye or bruised neck. I’d never appreciated my health more than after I’d moved to Alaska.

  Reluctantly, I picked up the landline, noting the time. It was barely seven o’clock. If I was lucky, I’d get the school’s voicemail and wouldn’t be forced to talk to anyone live.

  “Novak High.” Mrs. Randall’s clipped voice piped out from the speaker and I stifled a groan.

  Strike two on the luck front, I thought grimly, clearing my throat to prepare for conversation. I hoped I wouldn’t start sputtering as I sometimes did when I got like this.

  “It’s Margot-Celine,” I told the secretary. “I-I’m not feeling very well. I-I think I won’t make it in today.”

  I hated lying but I reminded myself that I wasn’t, not really. I was feeling off my game and teaching was the last thing on my mind right then. I wasn’t even sure leaving the house was a good idea, not in my sorry state. I’d read a study once that said that when people are having “off” days, they should stay home because going out only increases the chance of having accidents.

  I’m doing the town a public service by taking a sick day.

  There was a brief pause and I wondered if she even knew who I was.

  “Margot-Celine Doucette,” I offered, hoping to move things along. “I teach French.”

  “Yes, I know,” Carolyn Randall murmured but I wondered if she did. I could count on one hand how many times we’d had a conversation since I’d started at Novak.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked, wishing I hadn’t.

  “I’m sorry you’re sick, Margot,” Carolyn sighed, the note of discontent dripping off her words. “I wish you’d given us the heads-up yesterday. It’s very difficult to find a substitute in the winter months out here.”

  I bristled, annoyed that I was getting grief for having called after being there for so long. A quick look out the window told me that it wasn’t snowing and the roads had been cleared for days.

  “If I had been sick yesterday, I would have told you,” I replied crisply. “Unfortunately, I can’t foresee the future.”

  “No, of course not.” Another deep exhale filled my ears and I was on the brink of telling her to forget it, that I was on my way, but before I could, she spoke.

  “Recover well. Please let us know by the end of the day if you need a substitute for tomorrow also. Let us know as soon as possible so we’re not in this position again.”

  A slight relief washed through me and I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me.

  “I will,” I agreed, disconnecting the call without so much as a goodbye. I was just happy to be off the phone.

  Pascal barked from outside the second I disconnected and I moved from my chair to let him in as the coffee finished percolating in the maker.

  The mastiff bounded inside, seeming much happier as he wagged his tail and looked up at me with bright eyes.

  “You are the only male beast I trust,” I muttered at him, scratching behind his ears, and he panted with contentment before padding off to drink his water in loud, splashing gulps.

  But as I continued to stroke his silken fur, I felt a shiver of apprehension shoot through me.

  I was a sitting duck now that I’d called in to work. I’d have nothing to do all day but replay terrible scenarios in my head like I had the night before.

  What had I been thinking?

  Instantly, I reached for the phone, intending to call Mrs. Randall back and cancel my substitute, but when I did, my hand froze on the device.

  Nothing had changed in the last two minutes. I was still feeling off and the idea of seeing people, let alone teaching them, was making my stomach churn. I didn’t want to discuss what had happened with Lowell or answer any questions about how I was feeling. Slowly, I replaced the cordless on its charger and sank back into my chair to think.

  Pascal barked, cocking his head, and I realized I’d stopped petting him. Absently, I continued as I contemplated what to do with my day. I knew I couldn’t sit around my cabin all day. I’d give myself another anxiety attack with everything weighing on my head. No, I’d have to do something else, get out of the house.

  But where could I go where I wouldn’t be recognized? The last thing I needed was to be seen by a fellow teacher. Not that I had any interest in being around a lot of people in the first place.

  My eyes brightened suddenly as I realized I had a perfect place to go.

  Never mind feeling guilty about taking a day to regroup, I told myself firmly, again rising but this time to get my coffee. I’ve earned a day to myself and I know exactly where I’m going to spend it.

  * * *

  At nine o’clock, I was the first one inside the library doors. It had been a long time since I’d enjoyed the sanctuary of the building, but ever since childhood, the library had been my great escape.

  There was something about the smell of paper and rows upon rows of high-minded literature that gave me goosebumps, the history and creativity melding together to create worlds that I could never even dream about.

  My childhood had not been terrible but even so, I had been picked on for being chubbier, a redhead, and just because children can be awful. I would have my mother drive me to the library on a Saturday at opening and pick me up at closing where I’d spend the entire day reading Nancy Drew and Sweet Valley High books. The feeling didn’t change, no matter how many decades passed, and I still felt caught up in the magical feeling of being in a library.

  I wandered through current affairs, my fingers trailing over the shelves, but soon found myself in the fiction section. I didn’t want to spend my day reading about heavy things. I wanted to get lost in a fake world, a world that didn’t exist outside the walls of my mind.

  I had found three paperbacks that looked interesting, all three historical fiction, but when I began to read the first one, I realized it was less about history and more about a romance between a man and a woman who came from very different worlds. I was about to put it down but I had to admit it was well written, despite the genre, and soon I couldn’t seem to stop reading about the hero, Oliver, and the way he treated the rich and lovely Catarina. She, in turn, treated him terribly. For the first time in my life, I found myself siding with the male protagonist, his strong but sensitive ways moving me until I felt embarrassing tears well in my eyes. I hated Catarina for behaving toward him the way she did but as I continued through the story, I saw that she had been deeply hurt in her past and didn’t know how to heal. The only way she knew was to act out until Oliver taught her the way to respond and give love.

  In the end, they made it together, despite their insurmountable odds, and my heart felt both full and heavy as I was thrust back into the library and out of Oliver and Catarina’s world.

  I was humiliated when I had to wipe the tears off my cheeks and I rose from the cushioned seat I’d found in a cozy wooden nook at the very back of the building. I wondered how many people had passed by and seen me crying. I hadn’t noticed anyone.

  They probably didn’t notice you either, I reminded myself. It wasn’t like I was going to catch anyone’s eye in my faded jeans, my hair tossed up into a messy bun. I’d barely managed to get a brush through it that morning.

  A quick glance at my watch told me that I’d been in the
library for over five hours. I hadn’t moved once, not even to use the bathroom.

  My stomach growled, reminding me also that I hadn’t eaten. I needed to get out of there before school let out and inevitably, students came in afterward to do homework or use the bank of computers. I’d still played hooky, no matter how I tried to justify it, and being caught by a pupil would just be embarrassing.

  I grabbed the other two books I had yet to read from the arm of the chair and jumped from my spot, not accounting for the fact that I’d been sitting for so long without moving. Instantly, my legs gave out as I moved and I fell forward, the novels flying out of my reach as I put up my hands to stop myself from landing on my face.

  Strong arms caught me firmly by the left arm and I was back on my feet before I could touch the ground. I didn’t have an opportunity to be appalled by being touched in my deep humiliation. I laughed, mortified that my spill had been witnessed, and adjusted my glasses as I cocked my head up toward my savior.

  “Merci. I wasn’t—” The rest of my gratitude died in my throat as I gaped at the man looming above me.

  I’d know those eyes anywhere.

  I was staring at Flint Locklear again.

  8

  Flint

  I could feel the rhythm of her heart beating unevenly as she gaped up at me, my hands still securely on her. Her hazel eyes caught hints of gold and green behind the lenses of her tasteful glasses, her peaches-and-cream skin almost translucent now as she recognized my face.

  I could have stared at her for a moment or two longer but I knew she was terrified, even if I couldn’t hear the roar of her pulse in my ears. It was plainly written all over her face.

  Assured that she was firmly on her feet, I released her as she stepped back, her breaths escaping her mouth unevenly.

  For a scary moment of my own, I thought she might start screaming, the same way she had the previous night, and I reminded myself that was the opposite of what I was trying to accomplish.

  I threw up my hands to show her I wasn’t advancing on her anymore.

  “There’s no need to be alarmed,” I told her quickly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m staying right here, Ms. Doucette. See?”

  Slowly, her rosebud lips began to close, still partially parted as she stared at me, unspeaking. I could see the intelligence in her irises as she tried to assess the situation, despite her anxiety. I thought she was going to say something for a minute but she didn’t, forcing me to go on.

  “Look,” I continued when she didn’t speak, “I was a bit out of line yesterday. I didn’t mean to frighten you—today or yesterday.”

  Her mouth fell open again and I could tell she didn’t believe me. She didn’t let out a scoff but I felt like she was expressing one in her head.

  “I was startled to see you there in the woods,” I rushed on. “I probably overreacted.”

  Okay, maybe that was an understatement but I was still coming to terms with the fact that I had issues with communication on occasion, something I’d been working on lately. Perhaps not the previous night, but in general, I thought I did a good job of keeping my temper under wraps.

  “Probably,” she whispered and I was relieved to have gotten some answer out of her, even if it was one word and it was dubious. I thought I caught the hint of an accent in her words, something I hadn’t noticed before. Truth be told, in my anger, I hadn’t noticed much but the blinding red that had covered my eyes.

  Seeing her now, I realized how attractive Margot-Celine Doucette really was, even without putting any effort into her appearance. I found her lack of attention both endearing and stimulating somehow. There wasn’t an ounce of pretentiousness about her.

  How could I have missed that last night?

  Oh, right. I’d been too busy overreacting to her unexpected arrival.

  Not that I could entirely fault myself for the way I’d responded to her presence. This was my clan at stake, not just my secret. It had been bad enough that Kea and Lowell had unexpectedly appeared in our midst, even if they had brought Emmett around. Now this woman? How many more humans would surprise the hell out of me in the span of the next few months? I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

  “I really am sorry about all that,” I told her, giving her my most charming smile. It wasn’t hard—I found her extremely easy on the eyes and my own steely gray irises searched over her like I was trying to unlock her secrets.

  Her shoulders were almost at her ears and her body showed no sign of relaxing as she backed away slowly, but I could tell that her pulse was returning to normal as she tried to determine the sincerity of my words.

  I became conspicuously aware of the fact that we were standing in the middle of the library and I didn’t want to continue our conversation there. I eyed her imploringly.

  “Would you care to join me for a coffee? I didn’t sleep well last night and I could use a pick-me-up.”

  Her jaw slacked at the proposition, the uncertainty returning to her eyes with a burst.

  “Honestly, I just want to talk to you,” I insisted before she could refuse as I knew she was going to.

  She shook her head, taking yet another step back, her face still toward me like she thought I was going to make some abrupt move, and I was left feeling like a predator cornering my prey. It wasn’t a good feeling and I wanted nothing more than to wipe that stricken look from her face.

  “Ms. Doucette,” I sighed. “Contrary to our initial meeting, I’m really not the kind of man who hurts women. I was just as startled as you were and I reacted to protect, just like you did. It was wrong of me but I had no way of knowing if you were a threat to me. Can you try and understand that? You were trying to protect Lowell and I was trying to protect myself.”

  My words seemed to be having somewhat of an impact on her and I could see her lowering her guard slightly.

  “Please,” I said again, hoping she could hear the honesty in my tone. “I just want to talk to you, somewhere not in the middle of the library.”

  I didn’t mention to her that I’d been waiting for her to come out for literally hours before I’d gone in myself.

  Suddenly, she looked around, finally wrenching her eyes from my face as if she remembered where we were standing. She balked slightly and dropped her gaze to the floor.

  “We’ll go somewhere where there’s lots of people and—”

  “No,” she said quickly. “Not lots of people, but a public place.”

  I was slightly surprised by her concession but I didn’t question it. After all, I’d been searching all over town for her to apologize and speak rationally to her. If she was agreeing to come with me, I wasn’t about to mess it up by opening my mouth again and turning her off the idea. I nodded, turning to lead her out of the library.

  “Granddad’s is just around the corner,” I said, but to my surprise, she shook her head again, her eyes shadowed with worry.

  “Not Granddad’s.” She paused like she was having second thoughts and I wracked my brain for another place quickly. Granddad’s was the only coffee place in town.

  “They have good coffee at Lucette’s,” she said, saving me from having to contemplate too much. I was mildly surprised by the suggestion. Lucette’s was definitely a sit-down restaurant, but I wasn’t about to argue with her. For whatever reason, she didn’t want to go to Grandad’s, and frankly, she was more or less calling the shots in this encounter, even if I had suggested it. All she needed to do was start screaming again and I’d be out of there, never to try again.

  I wondered if she realized that. I hoped not.

  “Fine,” I agreed lightly. “Also in walking distance.”

  Silently, we left the library. I noticed that she left behind the two books she had dropped during her spill but I didn’t comment on it. I just wanted to get her to the restaurant in some semblance of privacy so we could clear the air between us. I’d panicked about the chance encounter all night, knowing that the more scared Margot-Celine was, the more likely sh
e was to go to the authorities and tell them what she’d seen. It wouldn’t be the first time such a threat had surfaced around us but it still didn’t mean it was something I wanted to deal with.

  After Lowell had taken her down the mountain, it had taken me some time to calm down. To my increased chagrin, Kea had resurfaced with Emmett not long afterward and I could tell the polar bear was not impressed with the knowledge that someone else had learned our secret. Even so, he let Kea try to explain to me that Margot-Celine was truly no threat to me or the others. By the time they left, I was more conflicted than ever but I couldn’t get the French’s teacher’s face out of my mind.

  I retreated to sit by the fire and collect my thoughts and as I let the flames soothe my unrest, I realized that I really wasn’t as angry as I’d thought. It was funny how that happened—time seemed to heal my fury. If only I could learn to control it on the spot.

  Maybe it was because of her guileless face or perhaps it was simply the way she’d jumped to Lowell’s defence without any regard for her own safety. Whatever the reason, I knew I was drawn to Margot-Celine and I needed to set things right with her—for all our sakes.

  Sitting across from her at Lucette’s, I realized that I’d sought her out for much more than self-preservation. I was inexplicably drawn to Margot-Celine and somehow, that scared me more than her knowing my secret.

  9

  Flint

  We remained in an awkward silence until the server seated us and took our drink orders. It was coffee for both of us and when he left us alone, I refocused my attention on her, memorizing the lines of her face like it might be the last time I would see her.

  It might be, I reminded myself. If I blow it or if she comes to her senses and leaves.

  The thought alarmed me. I knew how hair-trigger my temper could be, but as I watched Margot-Celine look around the restaurant, I could see that she wasn’t as terrified as she had been. I’d just have to ensure that I continued to put her at ease.