Armand stood back and looked at the print Jenna had found for him to hang in the bar. It was a football helmet and a football with a jersey hanging in the background.
“There’s a series of these featuring different sports and different teams—hockey, basketball, baseball—if you like this one, I can purchase the rest of them.”
“But not everyone likes the same teams.”
“So it could spark conversation. Plus, it will go with any other décor changes we make.” Jenna scanned the room. “There are quite a few things we could do to brighten this place up. We could take a shopping trip to Timmins to get some ideas.”
A shopping trip? Even his bear roused enough to shudder at the idea. “No, whatever you choose will be fine.”
“Really?” She smiled up at him. “Thanks for trusting me. I’m not an interior designer but I do know how to market a place.”
‘Market a place’. It sounded very calculated and profit oriented, not at all what he’d had in mind when he’d purchased the Broken Antler. He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded regardless. “It’s time for a change. I’ve been in a rut, unable to see there are other possibilities.” He spoke the words not sure he believed them.
“It happens. In all areas of our lives.”
There was a hidden meaning in her words, in the look she gave him. He knew what she was referring to but didn’t respond. Jenna was a friend. Taking the step beyond friendship still had him hesitating.
She sighed, possibly realizing he wasn’t going to act on her hint and picked up her coat. “Well, I need to get some groceries. I might stop by the hardware store and see if there are any paint charts so we can discuss a new colour for in here. This barn board look is so dated.”
Paint the wood? He felt his eye brows shoot upward but was saved from replying by the sound of the door opening.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Jenna patted his arm and left, side-stepping around Ryne and Melody who were entering the bar accompanied by a swirl of snow and cold air.
The Broken Antler wasn’t officially open until four, however it wasn’t unusual to have someone drop in to visit ahead of time. He wouldn’t serve them alcohol, but they were welcome to a cup of coffee or tea.
“Bonjour, mes amis.” He picked up the hammer and box of nails he’d used to hang the print and placed them back in his tool box.
“Hi Armand!” Melody pulled off her toque.
Always to the point, Ryne jerked his chin towards the new artwork on the wall. “What’s that?”
“A sports poster. Jenna said it would inspire conversation.”
Ryne cocked his head “Yeah, I can see there being a lot of conversation about it. Most will start with ‘that team suc…Oomph!” He grunted as Melody elbowed him in the ribs.
“It’s very interesting.” Melody barely glanced at it, instead looking out the window where Jenna could be seen crossing the road, carefully stepping over the mounds of snow piled at the curbs. “You and Jenna seem to spend a lot of time together these days.”
He shrugged. “She’s helping me upgrade the bar.”
“Uh-huh.” Ryne shoved his hands in his pockets. “Are you sleeping with her? Ouch!” He glared at Melody who had stepped on his foot.
“Subtle I said.” She hissed the words at her mate and then cast an apologetic look his way. “Sorry Armand.”
He chuckled. “Ryne believes in plain speaking. As for Jenna, we’re friends, that’s all.”
“Oh. Good.” Melody looked relieved and even Ryne gave a satisfied grunt.
Armand cocked his head. “I thought you were encouraging me to move on.”
“I was,” Ryne rubbed his neck, “but things change.”
“What things?” He had no idea where the conversation was headed.
“Why don’t we all sit down?” Melody suggested. “Maybe head to the kitchen and have some tea?”
“You have news for me? Bad news?” He glanced between the two of them, not liking the undercurrent he was picking up.
“She knows about Lucy.” Ryne explained. “She overheard me talking to Roxi.”
Melody knew about Lucy still being alive. Interesting but nothing that would upset him. However, a call from Lucy’s roommate had him bracing himself. “Why did Roxi call?”
Melody placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Armand. Lucy’s been in an accident.”
He gripped the back of a nearby chair, his legs feeling weak even as his bear surged to life, rumbling in his voice as he spoke. “An accident? In Chicago? Is she badly hurt?”
Ryne pulled out a chair and shoved him into it. “Sit down, before you fall down.”
He did as he was told while continuing to demand answers. “What happened? It must have been serious if Roxi felt the need to call. And why contact you?”
Ryne shrugged. “She found my number on Lucy’s phone.”
“She’s resourceful like that.” He replied absentmindedly while trying to control the emotions roiling about inside him.
“The important thing is that Lucy’s okay.” Melody sank down into the chair beside him and placed her hand on his. “Roxi sent Ryne a text saying the hospital sent Lucy home with instructions to rest a few days, but beyond that she should be okay.”
Relief washed over him and he relaxed his tense muscles for a minute before frowning. “If that’s the case, why did you tell me? Unless you were testing the strength of my heart?
Melody and Ryne exchanged a look then Melody eased back in her chair. “Well, there is more. I’m not sure how to tell you this—”
“Lucy’s pregnant and you’re the father.” Ryne leaned against a nearby post, legs casually crossed. “I guess you missed the ‘no glove, no love’ talk somewhere along the line.”
“Ryne, that is so rude!” Melody gasped at her mate.
Ryne shrugged. “No point in pussy-footing around.”
Armand barely heard their exchange, his brain trying to process the news.
Lucy was pregnant.
He was the father.
And she didn’t tell us, his bear added.
His bear’s comment played over and over in his head, each repetition slicing a chunk out of his heart.
“Are you okay?” Melody looked at him in concern.
“Oui.” He looked around the room, for some odd reason focusing on the empty spots where his pictures used to hang. The absence of their bright colours suddenly seemed especially prophetic. “I’m fine. I’m glad Lucy is fine.”
“We’ll watch the bar for you, of course.” Ryne spun a chair around backward and sat down on it, his forearms resting on the back. “You’ll want to fly to Chicago on the first flight you can get.”
“Chicago?” He blinked. “Non.”
“No?” They answered as one.
“No.” He stood up, grabbed the tool box and placed it on a shelf behind the bar, suddenly needing to be busy. “I won’t be leaving. She knows where I am and what I have to offer.” He swept his arm out to encompass the bar. “She wants her life in Chicago, not this. If she changes her mind, she can contact me.”
“But…” Melody gaped at him. “I thought…”
“That I’d go running after her? She left once, created an elaborate ruse to cover her trail. I should have gotten the message, but I didn’t. I followed her to Chicago, did my best to protect her and show her how I feel. It wasn’t enough.” He began to walk around the room, tucking chairs in, straightening tables. “I’m a patient man but even I have to admit when I’m chasing a lost cause.”
Ryne watched him, face impassive. “And what about the baby?”
“I’ll arrange for her to have money to cover expenses. The diner where she works, I have part ownership of it. I’ll contact Ashton to make sure she has easy hours. Don’t worry, I won’t shirk my responsibilities.” He gave a chair an extra firm push and the whole table slid several feet.
Ryne raise an eyebrow and Melody gave him a wary look.
“Excuse me.” He clenched his fists at his side, breathing deeply. When he spoke, his voice came out with a distinct growl. “On second thought, please watch the bar for a few days. I feel the need for an extended walk in the woods.”
“Sure.” Ryne rose to his feet and guided Melody towards the door. “I’ll get Bryan to organize the pack into shifts to cover the bar. You know where to find us if you need to talk.”
Giving a quick nod, he willed himself to stay still, to stay in control until the click of the latch signalled they were gone.
Exhaling slowly, he looked around. He was alone in the bar, the dimly-lit room cavernous and yet the walls were pressing in on him, the darkness of the corners invading his thoughts, his heart, the stale air suddenly too thick to breathe.
He needed to leave, to have space around him, an open sky above his head. On autopilot, he turned and exited through the rear door, not even bothering with a coat.
Like a solid wall, the cold hit him, rushing into his lungs and stealing his breath, biting at his flesh until he began to shiver. He welcomed the frigid air, embraced the pain of the cold, needing the numbness to stay in control.
The wind tugged at his shirt, blowing his hair from the tie at his nape so that it whipped his face and obscured his vision. Snow swirled around him, icy pellets stinging his skin.
He didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.
Nothing.
Get away, get away.
The words chanted in his head. He had to get away before the hurt twisting and churning within morphed into a destructive force he’d be unable to curb.
Like an automaton, he plowed through the drifts, stumbling, getting up only to fall once more in the ever-deepening snow. The forest was his goal, the dark pines beckoning to him, offering comfort from the pain searing his soul. If he could get there, he could lose himself in the stark, frozen solitude, let his bear roar and rage, run for miles until the pain was gone and only exhaustion was left.
His feet were numb now, his hair and beard encrusted with snow. Ice was forming on his damp lashes, the world around him now a swirl of white. He should take one more step, but…
He fell to his knees, and bowed his head, no longer knowing or caring where he was, the man with the broken heart fading away, leaving only the bear to exist.