He was walking away before she realized it. She stared after him, setting her jaw. “As early as you like, Luke,” she breathed. “As early as you like.”
Slowly she made her way back up the slope, pausing to brush her hand gently over the weathered surface of the plaque that was her parents’ final monument. Free as Nature first made man.
“You won’t be disappointed,” she told them softly. “You lived your life to the fullest, and so will I. I won’t settle for anything less.”
She smiled, remembering, and when she closed her eyes, she could see them smiling back.
Chapter Twelve
Luke knew before dawn that the weather had changed.
The morning sun hid behind a sky drained of color. The outlines of distant trees were soft and blurred, and the wind had risen, carrying with it the promise of winter.
Luke broke camp quickly, losing himself in routine as he tried desperately to shut Joey away from his senses and his thoughts. He had left her alone in the tent that night, had lain awake by the smoldering fire, remembering her tears and the courage that had brought her so far.
Now she would leave him, as she must. He would give her no chance to linger, no excuse to prolong this constant torment. He recognized the subtle promise in her eyes; Joelle Randall had attained her goal, but she was not satisfied. She would reach for more, for all she could hold.
She shone more brightly than the invisible sun as they began to retrace their path back to Val Cache. “I feel free,” she had said, and she was. She was more deadly to him now than she had ever been. There was no sadness to dull her vitality, no other obsession to distract her. Or himself.
So he fought to shut her out as he had done before. She tried to engage him in conversation, he rebuffed her with gruff monosyllables and silence. Even that was not enough to dim her brilliance. He walked more swiftly to keep her out of view, and she caught up easily. He felt her watching him, always watching, waiting for a sign of weakness.
He could never afford to be weak again.
They had reached the top of the ridge above the lake when the first snow began to fall. Luke felt the gentle sting of a snowflake on his cheek and looked up.
He came slowly to a halt. Joey continued a few paces farther and stopped to look back, her face shone with such inner radiance that Luke could not meet her questioning eyes. One snowflake and then another settled on the wool of her cap, kissing her cheek with the lightest of caresses. He saw her raise her mittened hand to touch the places where they had fallen.
“Snow,” she whispered. She grinned, whirling in a circle with her arms flung up like a child in her first snowfall. Perhaps, he thought numbly, it was her first.
He could not help but watch her. The muscles of his legs locked as she began to dance, as uninhibited as a wild thing in its element.
Trembling with unwelcome emotion, Luke dropped his pack to the ground and swayed in the grip of longing and desire. Joey’s joy in the simple beauty of nature was very real, she was laughing now, almost silently opening her mouth to catch the lacy flakes on her tongue. Luke followed the motions of her body with hungry eyes, felt self-control slipping away like melting snow through his fingers.
She whirled to look at him then, and his heart turned over. The warmth of her face might have melted the snow for a kilometer in every direction before it touched the ground.
“It’s wonderful, Luke,” she said. “Will it snow all day?”
Luke swallowed to force words past the obstruction in his throat. He broke free of her gaze and stared up at the sky. “Yes. The weather has turned. We have to keep moving.”
If she heard the deliberate coldness in his voice, she gave no sign. Her grin was incandescent. “You can take all this for granted, Luke. I’m not about to.” She spread her hand to catch a palmful of snowflakes and examined them.