Chapter Ten

“I have to admit, I had no idea upper Michigan looked like this,” Elise said softly, her eyes flicking from left to right as she tried to absorb the view before her.

“Anywhere else I’ve ever been just pales in comparison,” Tucker agreed easily. “I’m glad you like it. I’m strangely protective of the Keweenaw, and have been known to come to near blows if someone doesn’t agree about its beauty.”

The two of them were perched side by side on a huge boulder in the middle of the most isolated, untouched-by-humans place Elise could ever remember seeing – Horseshoe Bay, at the very top of the Keweenaw peninsula, past Copper Harbor. Tucker had driven them up the coast road, stopping occasionally for pictures or to clamber along beaches, before ending up here – after a rather harrowing dirt road adventure and a hike through the woods that had Elise convinced they were just going to fall off the end of the world.

But it was worth it.

In the protected bay, the way was calm and clear blue, the beach nothing but smooth, water worn rocks, and the bay itself was ringed in by huge expanses of rock face shooting dozens of feet into the air.

It was calm, peaceful and mesmerizing. She and Tucker and Betsy has explored and skipped rock, climbed the cliffs and searched for agates, and now Betsy was paddling in the water, collecting sea glass while Tucker and Elise sat and watched in the companionable rise and fall of conversation and quiet.

“Well, no need to hit me. I absolutely love what I’ve seen so far,” Elise breathed. “Though I’ve been hit for less.”

Tucker slid a sideways glance at her, noticing that it didn’t appear she knew she’d said the last sentence out loud. “Someone hit you?”

Elise shook herself slightly, as though trying to reset her memories and take back her words. “It was a long time ago.”

“Tell me,” Tucker commanded, though not unkindly.

Though it had only been only a morning and part of an afternoon, the two of them had found a cadence with each other quite early on, sharing comfortable pauses in conversation, interacting with Betsy equally, and then quietly talking in the front seat, a gentle rhythm of conversation ranging from current news to the environment to Elise’s favorite recipes.

She had found him surprisingly easy to talk to, and that surprised her.

After his gruff first meeting with her, and Rose’s intimation that he was ‘the master’, and was a tough man, she was surprised by his solicitude and easy conversation.

She was also taken aback by how good he was with Betsy – it was clear he wasn’t entirely comfortable around children, but he made a genuine effort to speak to her like an adult, listen when she talked, and did just enough teasing and tickling to keep ‘Uncle Tucker’ in Betsy’s good graces.

And though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone – barely even to herself – he was awfully easy on the eyes. What she had initially thought was a rough and dark appearance was actually full of beauty in the planes and angles of his face, in the bad boy scruff on his cheeks, in the confident way he carried himself.

Elise shrugged, once. She was going to condense this for him as best she could. “No father, mother died young and pitiful, foster system, bad experiences, learned to take care of myself.”

Tucker was quiet for a long moment, studying her, studying the strength in her features, the proud tilt of her chin, those kissable lips.

Kissable?

He shook his head to rid himself of the inappropriate thought. “More.” It was a simple command, and one she knew she had to obey.

“Mom was a professional girlfriend – usually to married men, which I abhorred – and died without a penny to her name of a cocaine overdose. I went into an orphanage, then into the foster system. The system was…unkind.”

“How?”

Elise shrugged again, tugging her sweater down over her hands, as though readying for battle. “I was beaten. Starved. Passed from family to family with no continuity. Left to fend for myself.”

He sensed hesitation, but didn’t want to push.

“And… other things.”

Her body language betrayed her, he realized, watching her pull in on herself, pressing her breasts against her body with her arms, crossing her legs tightly as though cold.

He would bet his house and everything in it she’d been sexually abused.

And if he ever found the bastard who did that to her, he would kill him.

The strength of his conviction surprised him – he barely knew Annaliese Blake, but found himself drawn to her, to wanting to protect her, to knowing her thoughts. He found her thoughtful, patient, intelligent and full of soul and spirit.

All that, from just a few hours together.

His mother would call that kismet; he hoped it was just desperation for female companionship – something he’d been lacking for a while.

Elise Blake was off limits – she was his employee, not his entertainment.

He sighed, then gently reached out and touched her shoulder and squeezed lightly in a gesture of understanding. “I’m sorry,” he said simply, but his words were filled with empathy.

“I’m fine,” Elise replied woodenly. “I’m safe now. Aren’t I?” She asked the last as a half question, half statement, but he answered her anyway.

“You’ll always be safe at Timberline.”

With me, he added silently.

“I know,” she said, giving him a small smile. She looked around again and sighed with contentment. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Somehow, I knew you would appreciate it. Few people do.”

“It’s your favorite place, isn’t it?” Elise ventured, and he smiled.

“One of them. It’s hard to have a favorite up here,” he replied. “But yes, somehow, it feels like ‘mine’ when I’m here.”

“Exactly,” Elise nodded, and they shared a look between them, both staring into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Elise broke the gaze first with a half embarrassed smile, then pushed off the rock and walked towards Betsy – before she did or something said to her employer she might regret.

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