“I’m sorry to bother you on a Sunday,” Kane said. “But I need you to check a document over at Sirius. It’s urgent. Can we leave right away?”
“Um. I have a bit of a continuity issue. I have to circle around outside the cameras and put the hoe back on my back porch. As if I was coming from the garden.” I gazed up at him. “Why did you drive all the way out here? Why didn’t you just call me?”
“I tried. You didn’t pick up. I ran the surveillance footage back so I knew you were here, working outside. I expected you to be out back.”
He frowned down at me, and I suspected he was resisting the urge to ask me what the hell had been going on. I relaxed when he apparently let it go.
“I need you to carry your phone with you at all times,” he said. “Just in case. Especially if you’re going to play hide and seek with the cameras.”
I sighed, feeling the noose tightening. “Okay.”
“What’s the story with your neighbour? Does he suspect anything?”
“No. This was the first time he’s ever been in the yard. But I told Hellhound about the bugs and cameras.”
“All right. Hurry up and get rid of your hoe. You can follow me into town, and I’ll meet you at Sirius.”
I arrived at Sirius Dynamics twenty minutes later and navigated the depressing security with a sense of impending doom. I had been so looking forward to having two full days up in the daylight and open air. My hands started to tremble again when I opened the door at the bottom of the concrete stairwell.
Kane and Spider looked up from Spider’s desk in the lab as I came in. “Good, you’re here,” Spider said. “We just intercepted this communication, and we think it may be important.”
“That’d be a nice change from all the tedious crap we’ve been wading through,” I muttered as I slouched into my chair. “Where is it?”
“In the usual file room,” Spider said.
I nodded morosely and stepped into the network.
The digital file was enormous. After the first fifty pages, my brain ceased to process any of the information, and I simply decrypted the document word for word without comprehension.
At long last, I spoke into the network interface. “That’s it. Is there anything else you need here?”
Spider’s voice vibrated with excitement. “No. That was excellent. That document was a game-changer. Come on out.”
I heaved my aching avatar up from its chair and stumbled toward the portal. When I stepped through, my fatigue made the pain seem worse than usual, and I caught myself whimpering while I beat my throbbing head against the nearest solid surface.
A few seconds later, I recognized the solid surface as Kane’s chest when he held my head firmly against him. “Aydan, stop,” he commanded.
I groaned and made an effort to unclench my teeth. “I’m okay. You can let go now.”
He released me and raised my chin to look into my eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Just tired. What time...” I raised a shaking arm to glance at my watch and suppressed another whimper. Eight o’clock. I was starving.
Kane looked at his watch, too, and his expression darkened. “Aydan, I’m so sorry. We did it to you again. Can you make it upstairs?”
“Yeah. I can manage without regular meals as long as I don’t have to run any marathons.”
I hauled my trembling body out of the chair and staggered for the door.
Kane’s hand was under my elbow as he turned back. “Webb, get that document sent out ASAP.”
“I will.” Spider turned back to his keyboard, fingers flying.
I straightened and did my best to approximate a normal stride down the hallway. Kane paced beside me, watching me closely. He put his hand under my elbow again while I dragged myself up the stairs and into the time-delay chamber.
When the heavy door finally released, he guided me to one of the lobby chairs. “Stay here. I’ve got some orange juice upstairs.”
I put out a hand to stop him. “It’s okay. I only have a problem if I exert myself. I’ll just swing into the burger joint on the way home and grab something.”
He eyed my trembling hands. “I’ll follow you.”
I really wasn’t in the mood for company, but I was too tired to argue. I sighed and headed for the door.
The burger was greasy and nowhere near as good as Eddy’s. I nibbled it half-heartedly while Kane devoured his meal. When I couldn’t force myself to swallow any more of it, I laid the remains back into the basket and sank my aching head into my hands.
I started out of my semi-conscious doze at the sound of Kane’s voice. “You didn’t eat much.”
“No. Eddy’s spoiled me,” I mumbled.
“Are you okay to drive?”
I sat up straighter and shook myself. “Yeah. Good night. See you tomorrow.”
The fifteen-minute drive home seemed interminable.
When I arrived at the farm, I parked the car and climbed the hill above the house again, unable to face the thought of being enclosed even by my own house. I stood for a long time on the brow of the hill, soaking up the open space and letting the wild wind tear at my clothes and hair.
Movement caught my eye, and I glanced over to see Tom silhouetted on his horse again. I sighed, feeling sorry for myself and for him. That had been a shitty way to end things. He seemed like a nice guy.
I sat down and rested my head on my drawn-up knees in the long red beams of the sunset, feeling melancholy and still unwilling to go indoors.
“Aydan.” The soft voice jerked me awake. “Are you okay?”
A gentle hand lifted the hair away from my face, and I rolled over to peer up at Tom’s frown in the twilight.
“What...?” I frowned back at him, disoriented.
“Are you okay? Do you know where you are?” he asked anxiously.
I sat up as he squatted on his heels beside me. His horse snuffled placidly a few yards away.
“Can you tell me your name? Do you know what day it is?”
I shook my head vigorously, my brain gradually rebooting when I recognized classic first-responder orientation questions.
“Sorry. I’m fine. Yes, I know where I am. I just fell asleep.”
“Tell me your name,” he repeated patiently.
I laughed. “It’s okay. My name is Aydan Kelly. It’s Sunday evening. I’m sitting on the hillside above my farm, outside Silverside, Alberta, and I really just fell asleep.”
The tension eased from his shoulders and he gave me his crooked smile as he sat down on the ground beside me, stretching out one long leg. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. What are you doing here?”
“I was out riding. Just... thinking things over. I saw you up here, so I went the other way. I didn’t want to intrude. But you were out here so long, and when I looked over, I saw you kind of collapse onto the ground and lie still. I was afraid something was wrong.”
“Thanks for watching out for me. I just had too long a day, I guess.”
“Aydan... since I’m here anyway, I owe you an apology. I was out of line last night. You said you were widowed, and I never thought to ask if you were involved with someone. I’m sorry. I owe your boyfriend an apology, too. I didn’t mean to poach.”
I drew up my knees and rested my chin on them while I stared out over the long vista fading in the twilight. “It’s okay. And Arnie’s not my boyfriend. He wouldn’t care one way or the other.”
“But... you said he was your lover.”
I sighed and glanced over at him. He really deserved the truth. Or at least as much of it as I could tell him. “Can I be really blunt?”
He nodded. “Might as well be, I’d say. You don’t owe me any tact.”
I stared out over the fields again. “Arnie and I are good friends. Neither of us wants to get involved. With anybody. Including each other. We get together from time to time. We have a few laughs. We have sex. If he walked in and found me in bed with another man, he’d probably apologize for not calling first. I’d do the same for him if I walked in on him with another woman. I know it might seem weird, but it’s what I want right now.”
“Oh.” He sat in silence for a while. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“I try not to.”
After another short silence, he spoke again. “I don’t think your relationship is weird,” he said quietly. “After my wife died, I went through a time like that.”
I turned to him in the half-light. “I’m sorry. I was so absorbed in my own drama, I didn’t even think to ask if you’d been married.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. It was twenty-five years ago. It’s old news.”
“Twenty-five years?” I peered at him. “Jeez, how old were you?”
“I was twenty. She was nineteen.” He sighed. “We had to rush the wedding a bit because she was pregnant, but I would’ve married that girl no matter what. I was crazy about her.”
“What happened?” I asked softly.
“She died in childbirth.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged again. “I spent a lot of years afraid to get attached. I just found a warm body and took a little comfort now and then. But now, I’m okay with whatever happens.” He took my hand gently. “So I know where you’re coming from. If you just need a warm body some night, I can be that for you. No attachment.”
I stared out over the darkening fields. I still felt fragile after the strain of the day. I could lie back right now on this warm, grass-scented hillside and let Tom Rossburn soothe my aching body under the big sky. Just a short chance to forget everything and take a little comfort.
Not counting my late husband, Hellhound was the only man I’d slept with in... Jesus, nearly two decades. I deserved a chance to sample the herd, dammit. There was nothing stopping me. A nice, willing man was sitting right beside me. No strings attached.
I sighed. There were always strings. It was too complicated. It was too dangerous for him. And I had a sneaking suspicion that despite his past, or maybe because of it, he was ready to get attached again.
“Thanks, Tom. I’ll keep that in mind. But I don’t think it’ll happen.”
“Why not?” He wasn’t demanding, just asking.
“I just... can’t.”
“Why are you being faithful to him when you know he won’t be faithful to you? You deserve better than that.”
“I’m not being faithful to him. I just... there are other reasons.”
“Aydan.” He leaned forward to meet my eyes. “Are you afraid of him? Is he abusing you?”
“No!” I stared at him in shock. “Arnie would never hurt me. He’s the gentlest man I know.” I realized how implausible that sounded as the words left my mouth. With his ugly bearded face, tattoos, and biking leathers, Hellhound made a frightening first impression. ‘Gentle’ was not the first adjective that came to mind.
“If he’s the gentlest man you know, then you need to get to know more men. He was rough with you today. If he does that in public, what’s he like when you’re alone?”
“No, no, he was just horsing around. He’s not like that.” I threw up my hands. I knew I was sounding just like every abused woman on the planet, defending her abuser.
“Tom, thanks for being concerned. I wouldn’t put up with abuse. And I don’t believe Arnie would ever hurt me. Or any woman.”
“Okay.” He rose. “I have to get back.”
I stood, too. “Me, too. It’s going to be another long week.” I peered through the falling darkness at him and hesitated. “Can we just... be friends?”
He squeezed my hand. “Friends, for sure. With benefits, if you want that.”
“Um… thanks. Good night,” I said awkwardly.
“Good night.” He swung into the saddle and I listened to the receding thud of hooves.