High Impact Page 15

  “Yes, ma’am.” Emery walked to the water’s edge and stooped to begin. She worked quickly and efficiently on the first load and returned for the pots and pans. Those took more time but came back sparkling clean as well. Then she cleaned up the area, bagging the trash and depositing it into a bear-proof container.

  Pasha busily prepped dinner, her back to the river, but the ebb and flow of the simmering tension in her body told her precisely when Emery was near, or far.

  “All done,” Emery announced.

  Pasha turned to find her relaxing in her camp chair, a few feet away. “How about some coffee? Or tea?”

  “Coffee sounds great, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Not at all. I brought a French press. I’ll have some, too.” She lit the camp stove and put water on to boil.

  “Mind if I ask you some questions?” Emery asked.

  “Not at all. How about we swap? One for you, one for me?” Pasha measured out coffee into the press.

  “I’m good with that,” Emery replied.

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Where were you born?”

  Pasha handed her a mug and sat in the next chair, a couple of feet away. “I’m from a village in Michigan I’m sure you’ve never heard of.” The humming sensation in her veins intensified with their proximity. The royal blue of Emery’s turtleneck seemed suddenly more vivid, and the bird sounds in the adjacent woods amplified. Even the taste of the coffee seemed enhanced.

  “Michigan? No kidding. Where, exactly? Emery asked.

  “Hey, I thought I got a turn.”

  “Call it a follow-up. You’ll get two in a row,” Emery said with a trace of impatience. “The name of the village?”

  “Conway. It’s in the—”

  “I know where it is.” Emery’s aura glowed briefly, like a camera flash.

  Pasha’s mouth went dry. She took a sip of her coffee, her hand trembling slightly. Her body thrummed loudly. No one ever recognized the name. Conway was too tiny. The pounding of her heart accelerated. “How do you know it?”

  “My family had a summer cottage on Crooked Lake.” Emery’s voice was full of awe. “I spent summers there when I was a kid.” She looked intently at Pasha. “You were born in February, you said, and you’re thirty-five—so you were born in…’76?”

  Pasha nodded.

  “The cottage was sold right around the time you were born. Almost the same month, I think,” Emery told her. Her gaze drifted to her feet, and she clenched her coffee mug. She seemed half in shock. “What are the odds of that?”

  Pasha let the question go unanswered. This was no far-fetched coincidence, only more proof they were destined to be together. “Where on the lake was it?”

  “Closer to Odin than you were,” Emery said, referencing another small village on the big lake. But we used to go to the convenience store in Conway a lot to get hot dogs and things.”

  “Why did your family sell the cottage?”

  Emery’s expression turned serious and she didn’t answer right away. “My parents died in a car accident. I was ten, an only child. That place and our home were sold right after, and I went to live with my grandmother in Detroit.”

  “How awful. I’m so sorry, Emery.” Pasha didn’t visit her parents nearly often enough, but they kept in touch frequently by e-mail and tried to webcam at least every month or two. She couldn’t imagine losing them now, let alone as a kid when she’d thought them invulnerable. “I’m an only child, too.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask another question,” Emery said, her tone half-kidding, half-serious. “Besides, you’re due a couple.”

  The Conway connection still floored Pasha so much she took several seconds to answer. “Tell me about your work. Are you on a long sabbatical? Bryson told me you were a courier.”

  Emery sat back and sipped her coffee. “Yes, I was an international courier for many years. And were is the operative word. I doubt I’ll ever go back. I delivered documents, diamonds, human organs, you name it. Even a couple of Academy Awards. A great job, for the most part. I got paid well and traveled in style to a ton of places I’d always wanted to visit. But sometimes it exhausted me, and I got to stay in exotic, fabulous places only long enough to get an enticing glimpse. That part became maddening.”

  “So, you’ll be on the road sort of indefinitely, I understand?”

  “That’s the plan. I’m finally doing and seeing everything I ever dreamed of. As long as my savings and frequent-flier miles last, anyway.”

  “When did you start, and where have you been so far?”

  “I left in late January, and I’ve been all over Europe. And aren’t I due another question or two about now?”

  Pasha laughed. “Okay. Go ahead.”

  “Favorite things to do?”

  “Hmm, give me a second.” Pasha got up to make more coffee. “Swim. Hike. Read a good book. Listen to music. Dance. Pretty typical things. You?”

  “Anything with an adrenaline rush. Not that I’ve done a lot until this year. But in the last four months, I’ve been high-altitude backcountry skiing, scuba diving, hot-air ballooning…” Emery ticked off the endeavors on her fingers. “Still to come: skydiving, caving, rock climbing, bungee jumping, hang gliding, cliff diving…well, you get the idea. If it’s an extreme sport, I’m there.”

  Pasha knew, of course, that Emery had been on adventure trips even before she reached Alaska. Bryson had filled her in on a few of the exciting times Emery had shared. But she had no idea Emery had apparently decided to risk her life in every possible way, at every opportunity. The idea unsettled her, especially in the context of building a future together. She couldn’t empathize with heedless, brash disregard for one’s safety. It was way outside her comfort zone. “Have you always been so reckless?”

  “I wouldn’t call it reckless,” Emery said. “Bold, maybe. Or more daring than a lot of people. I don’t want to take the path of least resistance, you know? Life’s too short. You have to chase your dreams while you can. And I mean really do it, not just say it.” She stared out at the river. “How can you really know who you are, and what you’re made of, until you face your fears?”

  “But you weren’t always this way, were you?” Pasha asked. “Didn’t something change you?”

  Chapter Twenty

  “No. I wasn’t always this way.” Emery tried not to squirm. How did Pasha so easily come up with such probing questions? “Sometimes you need a wake-up call to realize how quickly time is passing you by. It forces you to assess whether your life is taking the direction you want and motivates you to change things.”

  Pasha nodded thoughtfully. “A lot of clients say that being in this magnificent vastness, alone with their thoughts, has made them reconsider their lives.”

  “I can see how,” Emery remarked. “You feel so small here, yet so much a part of the earth. Things you considered essential are stripped away yet you don’t miss them. Well, I don’t, anyway.”

  “I respect your privacy, Emery,” Pasha said softly. “You clearly don’t want to talk about some aspects of your past, so I won’t push. But I’m a pretty good listener, and trustworthy.”

  Emery met her eyes. “I don’t doubt that.” The sentiment came from her heart, though she couldn’t explain it. Pasha exuded an air of compassion and loyalty. She’d gained her trust very quickly, which was unusual. “It’s difficult to talk about, and now probably isn’t the time.”

  As they chatted, Joe and Mandy had worked their way along the riverbank with their fly rods and were getting near.

  “Maybe I’ll skip the walk after dinner and have you cut my bangs instead. I’ll tell you my story then. But I have a condition.”

  “Which is?”

  “You finally tell me about this weird stuff going on every time we get close. Will you do that?”

  All the color drained from Pasha’s face. She took so long to answer, Emery wasn’t sure she would.

  “Yup. Tonight. It’s time.” Pasha got to h
er feet. “Why don’t you go enjoy yourself while I get some work done?”

  Emery rose and faced her. She could discern so much more in Pasha’s eyes than with any other woman she’d met. Right now she saw fear and apprehension, but also an underlying excitement. Pasha could read her extraordinarily well, too. “I’m not imagining this, am I?”

  “No, Emery.” The fear in Pasha’s eyes eased, and the excitement grew. “It’s very real.”

  Emery’s heart sank when the Fillmores broke their moment.

  “Pasha, got some more lemonade?” Joe asked as he propped their fly rods against the folding table and Mandy settled into a camp chair.

  “You bet. Coming right up.” Pasha’s voice had regained its usual chipper quality and she was smiling, but her eyes betrayed how much she, too, regretted the interruption. “I’ll see you later,” she told Emery before heading to get the drinks.

  “Later, then.” Emery grabbed her pack and headed toward her tent, mulling over Pasha’s words. She was relieved to discover she wasn’t imagining something very odd between them. But Pasha’s confirmation only confused her more. Emery could find no reasonable explanation for the phenomena, yet Pasha apparently had some reason or rationalization. She couldn’t wait to hear it.

  *

  Pasha spent a good deal of the afternoon contemplating how much she would tell Emery. Emery’s acknowledgement of something extraordinary between them encouraged her, as did the fact she seemed curious, not distressed. She needed to try to explain her gift but wasn’t certain she should be entirely frank yet, especially about their destiny.

  Preoccupied with her thoughts and cooking chores, she discovered dinner over and the cleanup done. All the clients but Emery eagerly anticipated their evening hike because Chaz had promised to take them to a swampy area where moose frequently congregated.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to go?” Pasha asked, as she and Emery watched the others return to their tents for cameras and jackets. “I feel guilty, you missing what might be a great photo opportunity.”

  “With all the trips I’ve signed up for, I’ll get other chances to see moose up close. It hasn’t been easy to find alone time with you.”

  “No, it hasn’t. Still up for that haircut?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’ll go get the scissors, and a comb and towel. Be right back.” Pasha lingered in her tent until Chaz and the others had departed. The anticipation building all day made her shaky and anxious. Sometimes a few minutes alone to calm and center herself helped her focus her gift and better read its message. It also might help prevent her from totally losing control again and getting light-headed when she touched Emery.

  Emery had a splendid setting to look at, but seemed to have focused on Pasha from the moment she left her tent. With every step nearer she took, the power surged, pulsing through her veins, enhancing her senses.

  Emery lounged in a camp chair, her legs stretched out before her, posture relaxed, until Pasha got close. Then she sat up, hands gripping the arm rests, her expression expectant.

  Pasha stood behind her. “Just a trim, or do you want it shorter?” Hopefully Emery didn’t detect her nervousness. She wanted Emery’s reaction, if she had any, to be completely spontaneous, so she didn’t tell her what she was about to do. She draped her towel around Emery’s neck and fastened it with a clothespin, then held her breath while she lightly placed her hands on Emery’s shoulders.

  The voltage between them forced the air out of her lungs in an audible sigh as her vision swam, and she fought to keep upright. Emery gasped and her aura glowed brightly, almost blinding Pasha.

  The intense electrical charge abated almost immediately, however, ebbing to a dull roar in her ears and a sustained ache of bliss permeating her every fiber.

  “Jesus.” Emery twisted in her chair to look up at Pasha. “What the hell just happened?”

  “What did you feel?” Pasha still had one hand on Emery’s shoulder. She didn’t want to break the physical contact; it had grounded the current, or that’s what it felt like, and she wasn’t sure she could remain composed if another big shock occurred.

  “When you touched me…I felt a huge hit of static electricity or something. The same thing happened when you brushed by me outside my room at the Den. But that’s impossible out here. Conditions aren’t right at all. And now…” Emery’s gaze focused inward, as though she was assessing the after-effects. “I feel kind of like I’m high. Almost giddy-happy. My senses seem especially sharp.”

  “Have you ever felt anything like this before?”

  “No. Never. You?”

  “I think I understand what’s happening better than you do.”

  “Well, fill me in, please, would you?”

  Pasha reluctantly removed her hand from Emery’s shoulder and pulled a chair over so they could sit facing each other. A profound loss settled in the pit of her stomach from the separation. “Do you believe some people have a sixth sense that enables them to see things others can’t?”

  “You mean like psychic abilities?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, I try to keep an open mind, not that I have any first-hand experience. But I’ve read accounts of premonitions and such, and I’ve seen a few episodes of Medium.” Emery’s eyes narrowed. “Are you…like that?”

  “Sort of. I mean, I don’t see dead people, and I don’t consider myself psychic because I can’t predict someone’s future or read something by handling an article of clothing…those sorts of things.” She licked her lips. “But all my life, I’ve had this crazy kind of intuition that kicks in now and then. A gut feeling, if you will, about people or events. Both good and bad. I can’t control it, and I can’t predict when it’ll surface. It’s completely involuntary but pretty infallibly reliable.”

  “What sort of things does this intuition tell you?”

  “Well, it’s guided me away from danger and directed me toward all the jobs I’ve had. This one, too. And it tells me when a stranger I meet will be important in my life. It’s pointed me to all the people who’ve become my closest friends.” Pasha didn’t want to reveal that her gift was telling her Emery was the one. Not yet. Emery already had a lot to absorb. She needed to reach that conclusion on her own.

  “So…this electric shock, when you touch me, is part of all this? You go through this every time you meet someone you’re going to be good friends with?” Emery asked.

  “I don’t get the same reaction with everyone. Most of the time, I just get this weird feeling, and I see an aura around them briefly when we meet.”

  “An aura?”

  “A shimmering ribbon of light that conforms to their silhouette.”

  “Fascinating. Did you see one around me?”

  “Yup.”

  A look of realization came into Emery’s eyes. “Did your blackout have something to do with this?”

  “I’m certain it did. Probably kind of an overload when we shook hands. I’ve been a bit leery, as I think you know, about touching you again. Especially in front of others. I’ve never fainted before.”

  “Couldn’t something else, like a medical condition, have caused it?”

  “I’m very healthy. I had my annual physical a month ago. Dita requires it. My gift sometimes does a number on my body. During my period of waiting and anticipating, I’ll feel really hot, or like all my nerve endings are stretched tight. Or my stomach knots.” Her mind raced to come up with a clear explanation. “Like a boxer must feel right before the big bout, or a ballerina about to go onstage. A bundle of nerves and restless energy. Somehow, touching you releases that energy as a very real spark.”

  “So if you touch me right now, it’ll happen again?” Emery asked.

  “I honestly don’t know. My intuition’s been acting screwy recently. I’m not sure what’ll happen.”

  Emery held out her hands, palms up. “Try it and let’s see.”

  Pasha was excited. Emery accepted everything she’d told her and wanted to
discover more. They were so close Pasha didn’t even have to move her chair to reach her. She held her hands out flat, palms down, but before she touched Emery, she said, “Indulge me, will you? Close your eyes. Tell me what you feel.”

  “All right.”

  This time when they touched, another spark leapt between them, but much less intense. Pasha also felt another surge in the euphoric bliss and pulled her hands away.

  “Static electricity again, but not nearly as strong,” Emery reported.

  “Okay. Now look at me and let’s try it again.”

  Emery gazed so intently into her eyes that Pasha felt the power increase even before they touched, and when they did, the bliss crested again and swept her up in another emotional tsunami. She could almost weep from the joy infusing her. However, she could barely discern the static-electric spark that had caught Emery’s attention.

  She felt almost disappointed until she recognized the pattern and understood why. Their first real touch in the Den, when they shook hands, had affected them the strongest; after all her days of anticipation, the release of the pent-up energy had overwhelmed her and she’d blacked out. Since then, the voltage of their encounters had varied and seemed related to how long they’d been apart.

  At least she knew she could touch Emery without passing out. She just had to be careful if a long time elapsed between occasions. She almost laughed out loud. The more she touched Emery, the less chance she would faint. Cool.

  At some point while Pasha had been absorbed in her thoughts, their hands had relaxed and entwined. She wasn’t certain which, if either, of them had initiated it.

  “Hardly felt any electricity that time.” Emery’s eyes locked with hers. “But…that sense of feeling almost giddy-happy has come back. Difficult to describe, but it’s…it’s very nice. And very strong right now.”

  “I think I know exactly what you’re feeling.”

  “It’s…well, it’s very different, isn’t it?” Emery smiled.

  Pasha had to laugh. This was going better than she could have hoped. “Yup. It is that.”