worried about you.”
“You have?” He glanced at Raven.
Raven placed her hand on Fox’s shoulder. “Apparently he owns your soul now since he saved you from dying.”
Aidan smiled at the kid. He wasn’t in the mood to tell Fox that he wouldn’t want any part of his soul. Not when it was black and rotten. He shivered. “Any chance of getting a blanket now that my fever’s gone? I’m going to die from exposure in this room.”
Raven tossed a blanket over him. It felt heavenly. “Thanks.” She also went to the window and shut out the cold seeping through it. The cold room explained Raven’s hoodie and knit cap she wore. She looked adorable. What he wouldn’t give to—
“I’m sure you’re hungry, since you haven’t eaten in two days.” Raven turned to Fox. “Will you run down to the kitchen and see what you can rustle up?”
“You bet.” He looked back to Aidan. “Be right back.” Then he scampered from the room.
Raven busied her hands with straightening the items on the nightstand, her eyes downcast. “Who’s Sonya?”
The question hit him like a punch to the chest. “How do you know about her?”
“I don’t. You just said her name a few times while you were out.”
“What else did I say?” Had he confessed that he was a murderer?
“That’s all I could make out. Are you married?”
“No. Are you?”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. If she were going to ask pointed questions, then so was he. “Uh, no.”
“Fox’s father?”
She glanced away. “We…uh…weren’t suited.”
It didn’t look as though she was going to say any more on the subject. “I asked Sonya to marry me.”
Raven looked at him again. “She’s your fiancée then?”
“No. She didn’t want to marry me. She’s in love with another man.”
“But you’re still in love with her?”
Was he? Being back here and seeing Raven had tipped his world. He’d tried for the last twelve years to forget her and her family, transferring a lot of what he felt for them to Sonya and her family—his fish camp neighbors in the summertime when he commercial fished in Bristol Bay.
“Don’t answer that,” Raven said, standing, and smoothing her hands down her jeans.
He reached out and grabbed her arm. “I thought I loved her. But it wasn’t a strong love.” She tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t let go. For some reason it was too important that she know. “I wanted the kind of love that we had with her, but it didn’t work.” He paused, then added quietly, “She wasn’t you.”
Her eyes flicked away from his, and she wetted her lips. “I need to go and see what’s keeping Fox. You must be starved.”
He released her, and she ran from the room.
Why had he said that? He had no chance with her.
Not when his father had killed hers.
She wasn’t you.
Raven ran from Aidan’s room, gasping. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart pounded and her palms sweated.
She wasn’t you.
Did he still care for her? After all these years? After all she’d done? What was she thinking? There was no room for Aidan in her life. Not with the past between them. She couldn’t allow there to be. Fox had to be considered. She’d been very careful with him, raised her son to be different than his genetics. The part of him that had come from Aidan, and Aidan’s parents, Earl and Marjorie Harte. There was also Roland Harte—Earl’s brother—to be considered, who liked to visit during the winter, trailing mischief and mayhem in his tracks. Roland had also done jail time, hadn’t he? How many Hartes had spent time in jail? Earl was a murderer. Dangerous, mean, and cunning. She’d seen that same kind of cunning in Fox. She didn’t want any of the Hartes’ unsavory qualities to negatively influence her son. She’d made life-altering decisions based on that reasoning.
Raven entered the kitchen and found Fox and Fiona along with her grandmother, Coho, who sat at the table beading an intricate Athabascan design
“You have?” He glanced at Raven.
Raven placed her hand on Fox’s shoulder. “Apparently he owns your soul now since he saved you from dying.”
Aidan smiled at the kid. He wasn’t in the mood to tell Fox that he wouldn’t want any part of his soul. Not when it was black and rotten. He shivered. “Any chance of getting a blanket now that my fever’s gone? I’m going to die from exposure in this room.”
Raven tossed a blanket over him. It felt heavenly. “Thanks.” She also went to the window and shut out the cold seeping through it. The cold room explained Raven’s hoodie and knit cap she wore. She looked adorable. What he wouldn’t give to—
“I’m sure you’re hungry, since you haven’t eaten in two days.” Raven turned to Fox. “Will you run down to the kitchen and see what you can rustle up?”
“You bet.” He looked back to Aidan. “Be right back.” Then he scampered from the room.
Raven busied her hands with straightening the items on the nightstand, her eyes downcast. “Who’s Sonya?”
The question hit him like a punch to the chest. “How do you know about her?”
“I don’t. You just said her name a few times while you were out.”
“What else did I say?” Had he confessed that he was a murderer?
“That’s all I could make out. Are you married?”
“No. Are you?”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. If she were going to ask pointed questions, then so was he. “Uh, no.”
“Fox’s father?”
She glanced away. “We…uh…weren’t suited.”
It didn’t look as though she was going to say any more on the subject. “I asked Sonya to marry me.”
Raven looked at him again. “She’s your fiancée then?”
“No. She didn’t want to marry me. She’s in love with another man.”
“But you’re still in love with her?”
Was he? Being back here and seeing Raven had tipped his world. He’d tried for the last twelve years to forget her and her family, transferring a lot of what he felt for them to Sonya and her family—his fish camp neighbors in the summertime when he commercial fished in Bristol Bay.
“Don’t answer that,” Raven said, standing, and smoothing her hands down her jeans.
He reached out and grabbed her arm. “I thought I loved her. But it wasn’t a strong love.” She tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t let go. For some reason it was too important that she know. “I wanted the kind of love that we had with her, but it didn’t work.” He paused, then added quietly, “She wasn’t you.”
Her eyes flicked away from his, and she wetted her lips. “I need to go and see what’s keeping Fox. You must be starved.”
He released her, and she ran from the room.
Why had he said that? He had no chance with her.
Not when his father had killed hers.
She wasn’t you.
Raven ran from Aidan’s room, gasping. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart pounded and her palms sweated.
She wasn’t you.
Did he still care for her? After all these years? After all she’d done? What was she thinking? There was no room for Aidan in her life. Not with the past between them. She couldn’t allow there to be. Fox had to be considered. She’d been very careful with him, raised her son to be different than his genetics. The part of him that had come from Aidan, and Aidan’s parents, Earl and Marjorie Harte. There was also Roland Harte—Earl’s brother—to be considered, who liked to visit during the winter, trailing mischief and mayhem in his tracks. Roland had also done jail time, hadn’t he? How many Hartes had spent time in jail? Earl was a murderer. Dangerous, mean, and cunning. She’d seen that same kind of cunning in Fox. She didn’t want any of the Hartes’ unsavory qualities to negatively influence her son. She’d made life-altering decisions based on that reasoning.
Raven entered the kitchen and found Fox and Fiona along with her grandmother, Coho, who sat at the table beading an intricate Athabascan design
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