“Yeah…even working around the hours you need the room, I should have it done by the end of the week.”
She’d guessed that. She’d also guessed that Fergus was likely to call off their relationship completely when the project was done—partly because he was at the end of her recovery program for him as well.
She had one more intensive exercise she wanted to work with him on, but Phoebe could see for herself that he was totally on the right track. Maybe he wasn’t ox strong quite yet, but his shoulders and arms had regained all their muscle tone. He moved with virile, vital purpose again, energy, stamina.
He didn’t need her anymore.
“You haven’t mentioned having a bad headache in over a week,” she said. “You’re sleeping better?”
He shot her a look. “How about if we talk about how you’re sleeping instead?”
Not well without him, but she could hardly say that when both of them avoided mentioning ever making love, as if saying it aloud would bite them in the butt. She said, “Okay, I get it. I won’t hound you about Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
your health for a whole two hours, okay?”
“Good. I’ll hold you to it.” He peered out the windshield. “Damn. I really want you to see this place.
Maybe the rain’ll quit.”
That seemed as likely as cows flying, judging from the hissing wind and angry sky, but it wasn’t as if driving were dangerous. The blacktop glistened as they took the twisting, curling road out of Gold River.
Slopes turned into hills, then climbed into more mountainous terrain.
He was right. It wasn’t a far drive. He turned down a gravel road that led eventually to…nothing. Where he stopped and braked, she saw a long expanse of meadow, carpeted in wildflowers, leading to a creek that splashed silver in the rain. Boulders on the other side led up to a hillside of rich, emerald-green trees.
“What do you think?”
She cocked her head curiously, unsure what he wanted her to say. Her first thought was that the wondrous place resembled the safe haven he’d described in the first exercise they’d done together…but she couldn’t imagine that had any relevance to why he’d brought her here—or what he wanted her to say. “It’s gorgeous.”
He didn’t exactly look disappointed, but something in his expression changed. Suddenly his gaze looked…careful, and his shoulders stiffened with tension. “Yeah, it’s pretty. But what can you picture here? I mean, try to imagine it if it weren’t raining and gloomy. If the sun were shining down on the water and the mountainside…”
“I think it’s gorgeous in the rain and would be even more beautiful in the sunshine.” She spoke truthfully but couldn’t seem to think. He obviously wanted her to react in some way, yet she had no clue what he wanted from her.
He turned off the engine and just leaned back, staring out the window instead of at her. “I’ve been thinking about moving. I haven’t minded being by my mom, but…I just want my own place. I rented before. That seemed the simplest choice when I didn’t have the time or interest in maintaining a place of my own. But now…the idea of a home is a lot more appealing.”
She could see his profile, the strong nose, the sharp eyes, but nothing in his expression gave away what he was feeling. “You feel up to making a major move?”
“I know I’m not moving at racehorse speed yet, but yeah. I’m getting there.” He hesitated, as if hoping she’d comment more, but again she felt an attack of nerves.
She’d never been short of opinions, and she’d easily offered them to Fox before, but it was different now. The times they’d made love stood between them like a velvet wall. He didn’t refer to them. Neither did she.
She knew how to communicate using touch. But she didn’t know the words he wanted to hear.
And when she still said nothing, he filled in. “Phoebe, I wasn’t trying to lead you into saying something I wanted to hear. But I was specifically thinking about building a house. Right here. I own this property, have for a while. What do you think about it for a home site?”
“I think it’d be gorgeous,” she said, and then realized that seemed to be the only word that kept coming Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
out of her mouth.
He motioned. “Probably put the kitchen there—facing east—with big glass doors leading to a deck, so a body could sit outside, eating their grapefruit, sipping their morning coffee.” He waited, then went on.
“Then I could see an octagonal room, glass walls—the great room facing the mountains and creek. The sun would come in there too strong, but we could fix that by using solar windows. Put the master bedroom upstairs. Make it a solid north wall, but put windows east and west, so the room would get the sunrise in the morning, the sunset in the evening.”
When he paused again, she said, “It couldn’t sound better, Fergus. It’s a beautiful plan.”
“Can you picture the house ideas?”
“You bet.”
“Could you picture living in a house like that?”
She frowned. “Sure. Who couldn’t? It sounds like a dream house. But…I’m not sure it’d be a good idea for you to be out this far in the woods alone, do you?”
“You’ve got that right. I don’t want to live alone anymore.” He fell completely silent then, scraping a hand through his hair and then, for a few seconds, squeezing his eyes closed.
“Damn,” she murmured. “I knew something was wrong. You’re getting a headache, aren’t you.”
“Not a headache. I just…” He opened his eyes. He suddenly looked so despairing, so frustrated.
“Phoebe, I…”
“No,”she said swiftly. “I can see you’re hurting. Bad hurting. Don’t talk. Just turn around for me, Fox.
Face the side window.”
“You don’t understand. I wanted to—”
“No talking! I mean it!” Energy surged through her. She knew what to do when he was hurting. Anything was better than those strange moments when he kept waiting and
