Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,73

into his touch. “I don’t have any more time, babe. Snow’s coming. Get some sleep.” He kissed her, trying his hardest to erase Cub’s touch from her mouth and memory.

His spirit slowly disintegrated in her arms as the snow outside turned heavier, blocking out the magnetic waves from the sun.

CHAPTER NINE

Gemma didn’t care that it was after midnight. She called Tern. There was no way she was sleeping after what Lucky had told her.

“’ello,” Tern mumbled into the phone.

“His name is Lucky, and he said that you would explain everything. So. Explain. Oh God, you’ve got to explain all this to me. I know I’m not crazy. I know it. Mostly know it. Holy balls, Tern. Tell me!”

“Gemma?”

“Yes, of course it’s me. Who else would call you up in the middle of the freaking night ranting like a possessed woman?”

“You’d be surprised,” Tern muttered. “Hold on, what did you say his name was?”

“Lucky Leroy Morgan.”

“Holy shit. I’ll be right there.”

“Tern?” Gemma looked at the phone, and sure enough, they were no longer connected. “Well, hell.” How was she going to wait out the time it took for Tern to get here? Gemma glanced out her window. Snow fell in fat flakes. Tern was roughly ten minutes away on a clear day. Maybe she should call her back and tell her not to come?

The phone rang once before Tern answered, sounding much more awake than before. “I know it’s snowing. I’m still coming.”

“Be careful then.”

“Put on a pot of coffee. The ramifications of this...are huge.” She disconnected again.

Gemma went back into her kitchen, cleaned up after her and Cub, and had the coffee ready by the time Tern pounded on her front door.

When Gemma opened the door, Tern entered in a rush of snow flurries, wearing pajamas with cute little puffins on them. She shrugged out of the parka and toed off her snow boots.

“I never pictured you for flannel,” Gemma said, pointing at Tern’s comfortable choice of sleepwear.

“What did you think I slept in?”

“Never really thought about it until now. But satin and lace, I guess, based on your fashion sense.”

“Nobody sleeps in satin and lace. Besides, Gage is still gone. And I get cold at night without him.” Tern followed Gemma into the kitchen, taking a seat, and a fortifying sip of the coffee Gemma poured for her. “Now start from the top and don’t leave anything out.”

Gemma started speaking, and Tern never took her eyes off her. Tears welled and threatened to spill by the time Gemma had finished.

“Give me a minute.” Tern sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

Gemma grabbed a box of tissues and a half empty bag of M&M’s. By the looks of Tern, who was normally a rock, they were going to need more than coffee. Maybe she should get out the cooking wine?

“Lucky was, is—oh God, I don’t know the correct tense to use.” Tern hopped to her feet, went to the kitchen sink, and splashed water on her face. She gazed out the window where the snow was silently, almost reverently, falling in feathered puffs. “I loved him. Still do. He was a world famous mountain climber. He’d conquered Everest. And Denali twice—the second time during the winter. Nothing scared him.” She took a heavy breath, shuddering as it left her body.

“Where you two ever....”

“Yeah, this was before Gage and I met.” A bittersweet smile appeared. “Man, he’d been fun.”

Gemma squashed the jealousy that suddenly rose within her. If Lucky had been with Tern, why was he wanting to be with her? Tern was so exotic, confident, and accomplished with that extra something that was hard to put your finger on.

“I never loved him the way that I love Gage,” Tern continued. “Lucky was fun, daring, a gambler in all aspects of the word. Unfortunately, he lost that last gamble.”

“How?”

Tern was suddenly all business as she retook her seat. “Last summer. Things were bad, and he was killed.” That seemed to be all that she could reveal about the horrors she’d been though. “Gemma, we need to figure out how to help him. We already know the how and the why. Now let’s figure out what we must do to help Lucky break the bonds of death.”

“Whoa. Wait.” Gemma’s hand flew up to stop Tern. “What do you mean help him? I thought I had to stay awake, and not let my ‘Dreamweaver’ seduce me. What about my soul?”

Tern pursed her lips in thought. “It’s Lucky. He can’t be after your soul. He