Dawn's Shelter

Kacie melted into a row of thick evergreens as nurses filtered out of the tiny hospital and trudged through the sleet and slick slush to their cars. She'd placed a call to the hospital and had found a very helpful nurse on the other end of the line far too eager at the mention of a flower delivery to confirm that Jan was scheduled to work today till four. Kacie grinned as she spotted her sister, lugging out a vase loaded with red roses out into the frozen drizzle.

The roses were a complete surprise and an utter mystery. Ginger had gone ape shit. Cooing and blathering over their beauty, smelling and rubbing the soft petals between her highly polished porcelain nails until the fragile flowers began to fall apart from her gentle manhandling. There was no card. No way to identify who had sent them. Jan had her suspicions. But, the question was, why?

She'd barely seen Thomas since their last night together weeks ago. Why would he send her flowers now? She supposed they were pretty. But, flowers weren't her thing. To her, the vibrant red petals were the color of dried blood and not by any means a representation of love. And she'd already pricked her finger a dozen times on the stems' needle sharp thorns, proving just how painful love could turn out to be when unwanted. She'd never opened her heart to anyone and didn't plan to. Love was a bitter trap that she didn't intend to get ensnared by.

She smiled back at the envious stare of a nurse trudging through the sleet beside her as she enviously eyed the roses. Great, she only had two or three friends in town. Carting around the obviously expensive flowers wasn't earning her any brownie points with her coworkers. Catty females. Tucking her long, sleek ponytail under the hood of her jacket she hurried through the icy deluge raining down from a positively ugly gunmetal gray sky.

Valentine's Day didn't make her heart go pitter-patter. It made her stomach churn and bile rise up in her throat. If she could, she'd snatch Cupid's bow and arrow out of his pudgy little fingers and shoot the winged bastard straight through his sappy beating heart. The unit was a buzz of activity today as the nurses babbled on and on about their plans for Valentine's Day. But, the accursed holiday wasn't for another few weeks. The unexpected flower delivery and the envious conversations of the nurses were the topic of the day.

Jan kept herself busy with her patients. After all, that's what the hospital was paying her to do. And the delivery of the gaudy red roses took her completely off guard. She plunked the vase into the passenger side floorboard of her car and climbed behind the wheel. Rubbing her gloved fingers together to generate some warmth as coaxed the aged engine to rattle to life.

The heater ran, most of the time. And she was only a few blocks from home so what did she care if the car got nice and toasty warm or not? In the summer or when the weather permitted she walked. The forecast had called for something called a 'wintry mix' today. Being from Texas, she had no idea what that was. But, this afternoon, she was getting an education in all the various forms of precipitation that could possibly fall from the sky. Wintry mix was a loose term meaning freezing temperatures, gray skies, and freaking pellets of ice that went plink, plink, plink as they landed on her windshield. Toss in a little snow and a few fat raindrops and voila...wintry mix.

She backed out of her space and idled the engine down the road leading to her house. The roads were slick and driving the two blocks to her apartment was a steering wheel gripping experience. She hated winter. But more than that, she hated winter here. She wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a dumpster for the roses. She should have given them away. Instead, she was carting them home and up the icy stairs that led to her tiny apartment above Ginger's garage. For some reason, she couldn't part with them. They were a gift from Thomas. The only tangible thing she'd ever gotten from him. They had an 'arrangement' of sorts. Sex only, no flowers, no candy, no presents, and definitely no love.

They had sex. And afterwards, she'd always hightailed it for the door. They'd only spent one night together. And it had scared the hell out of her. She'd woken up snuggled in his arms. Staring into his boyish face wiped innocent by sleep. He wasn't anything spectacular to look at. Merely an ordinary guy, rapidly approaching the dreaded middle age mark complete with thinning, sandy brown hair and laugh lines encircling his blue eyes. He wasn't a big guy, medium in height and build. He worked out and was trim and fit with the body of a long distance runner. He wasn't repulsive by any means. But, he was no rock star in the looks department to be certain. Yet, he knew exactly how to rock her world.

She parked the crystal vase on the dollhouse-sized table that made up her dining room table and let her purse and coat fall across the wooden chair with a thud. Ripping free her nametag, she tossed it on the table. The picture of her on the ID badge made her look like a dangerous felon. Who was she kidding? She wasn't a looker either. And her thirties were right around the corner. Her short and petite stature made her the perfect size when she stood next to Thomas. Their bodies fit together like matching pieces of the same puzzle. Her curves fit nicely, tightly against the hard planes of his body. That didn't prove a thing. Physically, they made a good pair. Especially when the lights were off and they were sweaty in the sack.

She pulled the loose scrub top over her head and wiggled out of the drawstring pants. Not caring if one of her neighbors could rubberneck and see her through the sliding glass door leading to her balcony or not. Personality wise, she and Thomas were not a good match. Their whole relationship was based on hate, no love, just hate. She'd despised him since the second she'd met him. He was an old school doctor. He barked orders and expected nurses to jump, like circus ponies through a ring at his command. That didn't bode well with her. Not in the least. He barked at her once and got the shock of his career when she gave it right back to him. And like a hot cigarette butt flipped out of a car window in the middle of an August dry spell, that incident had been the spark that set the forest on fire.

She freed her hair from the navy blue band holding it into a ponytail and shook out the strands. Cascading over her shoulders and breasts, down the small of her back her sleek, dark hair stopped about mid waist. The roses made absolutely no sense. The lack of a card, however, did. No one was supposed to know that the Good Doctor and she had an occasional hook up reserved for holidays and lonely nights. Snapping the clasp on her bra, she let it fall and hit the floor. The white socks came off next. And then her underwear landed on the tacky sculpted forest green carpet left over from a bygone era.

She supposed he'd sent the flowers, hoping to get an in. Expecting her to call him and say thanks for the gift and swoon over how beautiful they were. Damned things. Walking naked through her apartment, she flicked on the shower and waited for the tepid water to turn scalding hot and the dinky bathroom to fill with steam. She wasn't going to call Thomas. Maybe, it was a man's math. But, roses did not equal blowjobs. Hell, she was happy to provide the service free of charge.

Thomas had showered in this tiny bathroom. Thankfully, the shower had been too small to accommodate both of them or she might have been tempted to hop in with him. Her conscience bit at her. The flowers had to be expensive. He could spare the change. She knew that. But still, he'd thought of her and ordered them. The least she could do is put her finger to the phone and graciously spend a few minutes thanking him.

She would spend no more time on him than she did on her hair. Dragging a comb through the wet mass of tangles she worked the strands until they were sleek and pulled into a tight damp braid across her back. She thought probably, she'd spend less time thanking him than she would on her hair.

Chapter 2

Kacie had a place of employment. She had an address. She considered her accomplishments a major success. Now, all she had to do was figure out a way to get her sister to come home. Not going to be so easy. She shrugged out of her coat and dropped it across the back of a yellow metal chair. Determined to enjoy one of the delicacies she'd discovered in this piss poor excuse for a town. The happy burger deluxe dripped its mix of sauce and grease down her pinkie as she dug in. The burger was heaven in a wrapper. Sheer and utter paradise found in this frozen wasteland she lovingly nicknamed Hell's Fridge. After dinner, she planned to go back to the hotel that was her temporary home, turn the heater on full blast, and report in to her mother. That was the closest thing she had to a plan, for the time being. Now that she'd found her sister. She had to get her in the car and get them both the hell out of here.

The cutie sat at a table all alone. Munching on a fry as she stared blankly out into the fading gray twilight. She hadn't so much as noticed him when he walked in, placed his order, and sat at a table across the restaurant from her. Tristen had definitely noticed her from the plate glass window as he'd navigated his Camaro into a parking place. She was the reason fast food restaurants still had dining rooms. If he'd gone drive through, he would have missed one hell of a view.

He had time. He always had time to ogle a vision of beauty. He wasn't searching for a mate. But, that didn't mean he didn't enjoy window-shopping from time to time. Something to pass the hours until the right one came along. The girl had hair, black as night. Miles and miles of long, sleek ebony waves that ended in a series of curls at the middle of her back. Her skin was the color of a sweet buttery caramel. And boy, would he ever like to get a taste to see if her flesh was as sweet as it looked. She had a tight compact, athletic, little body and pert breasts, just right for the palms of his hands. Their hilly tops peeked suggestively over the top of her v-necked, raspberry colored, fleece sweater. Her eyes flashed in his direction, green and brilliant as emeralds in a jeweler's case. Obviously, she was feeling the weight of his stare. Spellbound. And what woman wouldn't be by the vibe of his sexual energies? She was definitely feeling the pull of their love connection.

Kacie had no tolerance for the redneck drooling at her from across the restaurant. He wasn't bad, for a redneck. But, flannel was not her taste. She preferred her Texas boys. They had the right stuff. This idiot probably didn't have thirty-two teeth in his head, let alone sense enough to carry on a decent conversation. He wore faded jeans, stained with grease and God knew what else. His long legs ended with a pair of worn work boots poking out from a ragged hemline. He wore the obligatory brown barn coat and flannel shirt required of all the hicks she'd seen in this town to date. She hoped he'd had the decency to wash his hands before he dug into a burger as big as his head. Especially given what he might have been doing before he sauntered into the restaurant like he owned the place and ordered dinner. He'd probably been shoveling cow shit or some other classy redneck pastime.

Oh yes, he did have thirty-two teeth, she noticed as he broadly flashed his pearly whites at her in a cocky smile. He was a long and tall drink of water. Too lanky and lean to be what she would consider built. His hair was black, pulled into a tight, stubbly ponytail at the nape of his neck. His high cheekbones and russet colored skin gave hint to his heritage and added to the masculinity of his facial features. His broad, thick lips pursed in a half-frown as he realized she was studying him. Kacie blushed and looked away. No longer interested in her food, she stood and gathered up the uneaten remains of her meal. He followed her with a pair of intense brown eyes, tracking her every move like he was on the hunt. She gritted her molars and rolled her eyes at his interest. Great, she'd probably attracted the only rapist in town.

She dumped the remains of her spoiled meal into the garbage and made tracks for the door, putting as much distance between her and the possible sex offender as she could. She froze in mid stride at the sound of masculine throat clearing behind her and the rumble of a deep bass voice.

"Miss? Excuse me, but you left your coat and purse." Tristen shot the girl a grin as she turned to glare at him with an expression as hard and disdainful as if she'd discovered she'd discovered dog poop on the sole of her shoe. He held the coat open. Politely, helping her shrug into the heavy parka when she finally acquiesced. The coat was massive, made for subzero weather and dense snows. Where did she think she was? Antarctica?

But, he couldn't miss the lush scent of her embedded in the fabric. She smelled of hot, tropical, summertime nights and a hint of something he couldn't quite place. She was a tiny thing. The top of her head barely met his chest. He probably out weighed her by at least a hundred pounds. Her facial features were that of a doll's, delicate and molded to perfection. Everything about her screamed fragile and it flared his protective instincts to life. The wolf constantly a part of him sniffed, tasting the air as he paced the corners of their shared consciousness. This woman child...this girl was something more than what she appeared to be. And didn't that peak their curiosity.

Kacie muttered, "Thanks." He held her coat wide and showed no signs of relinquishing it. Standing toe to toe, he was bigger, taller and broader than he appeared when he was sitting slouched in his seat. There was an aura about him...the aura of something other. He had an attractiveness that was just part of him. His was a raw sexuality that spoke of cool nights beside the fire and the shared pleasure of naked flesh on flesh.

The sooner she got rid of him the better. She rolled her eyes at his show of chivalry and slid into her coat. This close to him she caught his scent. He smelled of damp pine and thick wood smoke, of wild wolf musk, and of untamed male. Her wolf purred in approval. And no, there'd be none of that. Kacie snatched her purse out of his hand and flung it over her shoulder feigning indifference. She so did not want to have any kind of a verbal exchange with this guy. He wasn't her type. Her wolf was perpetually hot and bothered and far too often she pulled the strings in this body they shared. And while it might be fun to play house with this guy for an hour or two, she sensed he was not the player he pretended to be. He was one of those guys who played for keeps. And she didn't have time for that.

He flashed her a playful, youthful, teasing, flirtatious grin. He was too young for her, probably younger than her by a couple of years or more. And in the world of men and boys, a couple of years made all the difference. She preferred the company of older, more mature men. And besides, she was here on business. The last thing she needed was a horny, post-pubescent male just out of diapers sniffing around her.

"My pleasure." Tristen extended a hand and shot her the most dazzling smile he could muster. This girl invented the cold shoulder and she had the routine down pat. The harder he tried the more her disdainful scowl marred her pretty face. He was used to women playing hard to get. Especially since he had yet to actually catch one in the snare of his male magnetism. Oh well, the game was fun anyway. "Tristen."

Stifling another eye roll, Kacie took his hand and gave it a loose, brief shake. "Leaving," she answered as she turned and marched out of the door.

"Yow," Tristen snickered. Blowing off the chilly reception he'd received from Miss Leaving, he returned to his dinner. A woman that was as cold as the northern wind holding the valley in the grasp of winter was no reason to waste a perfectly good meal. Especially not a double, happy burger supreme with extra secret sauce, two large fries, and a chocolate shake big enough require its own zip code. He watched through the plate glass window as she backed a non descript, black Honda with Texas plates out of a parking space, signaling to turn to the left towards the interstate.

Something about her definitely had piqued his curiosity. Maybe, it was the fact that she'd turned his balls to ice cubes beneath that frosty glare of hers. Yeah, a girl like that was definitely an ice queen. But, thawing her out would have been fun. Too bad, she was probably on the interstate by now. Headed to her destination, and although he didn't know where that was It definitely was not here. A girl like that didn't belong in a town like this.

The local girls were more to his liking. Pretty girls with fading summer tans and sun kissed highlights in their hair, real, Midwestern, farmer's daughter types. He hadn't actually worked up the nerve to talk to any of them. Otherwise, he wouldn't be sitting here alone stuffing his face with a cheeseburger. But, he was getting around to it. Sometimes, it paid to scope out the scenery first and just enjoy the view. And the girl bent over the table Miss Leaving had just vacated, scrubbing the worn yellow formica clean had one hell of a nice view.

Chapter 3

Thomas spent the day with his mom. He drank coffee while she wistfully watched him. She couldn't indulge and precariously lived her lack of a culinary life through him. He pushed the creamer across the counter. Cutting her off as she encouraged him to add another dollop to his coffee. He could damn near use the stuff as syrup as it was.

"Oh come on, just a little more." She was like a coffee pervert. Getting her jollies out of watching her son sip at the decadently sweet and creamy brew. How long had it been since she'd had a taste? Almost a year? Boy, how time had a way of creeping up on a person when it didn't have to be measured and every last bit of it squeezed out like juice from a lemon. Time was the one thing she had plenty of. Her son had seen to that. If he hadn't, her time would have been up and she in her grave rotting beneath the headstone that bore her name.

"Mom, quit." Thomas parked his hand over the mug of rapidly cooling coffee. She'd made him add so much junk to it that it was lukewarm. He snickered as she squared her shoulders and self-consciously adjusted her blonde hair. Her blue eyes were fixed on the mug as he lifted it to his lips. She sighed and licked her lips in deep longing. This was the part he hated. When what he'd taken away from her to save her life became far too evident and the guilt twisted in his guts like a knife. He slammed the cup on the counter. "Forget it! I'll grab a cup at the gas station on my way home."

"Sorry Honey, there's just so much that I miss. Coffee is in the top ten, I regret to say." She dumped the mug out into the sink and poured him a fresh cup from the pot. Straight up black, the way he liked it, not with extra cream and sugar, the way she used to take hers. "You'd think that I'd be over it by now."

"Mom, I'm sorry." He reached across the stainless steel countertop and grabbed her hand. Squeezing it tightly in understanding and just a small twinge of guilt. Despite her difficulties, he could not regret the choice that had led them to where they were. If he'd stood by and let nature take its course, he wouldn't be talking to her now. She'd be dead. Eaten from the inside out from the cancer that was stealing the best years of her life away from the both of them. Now, neither one of them had to worry about that anymore.

He knew smokers that had given up the habit over twenty years ago and still craved a cigarette with the same fervor that they had when they were in the grips of the habit. He supposed that what his mother was going through was natural. He should consider himself lucky that her eyes were fixed on the coffee mug instead of the carotid that pulsed beneath his collar.