Wild Men of Alaska 03 - Dreamweaver

you.”
    “What about me? Don’t I have a choice in this? What about us being destined for each other?” Had her mother nailed that one?
    “Your mother is a gifted woman. There would have been a time when she would have been considered the Shaman or Seer. Listen to her. She will help you through this.”
    “No,” she said through clenched teeth. “You don’t get to decide this. I have a stake. This is my heart, my life, my decision. I love you. Why do I have to live without you because you suddenly feel the need for self-sacrifice?”
    “I don’t feel the need. It’s what’s right. You will forget me in time.”
    She shook her head. “That will never happen.”
    He suddenly grabbed her shoulders and gave her a slight shake. “You have to, Gemma. I can’t move on unless you do.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “Gemma. There will be another time, another life for us. I-I am so very sorry that I couldn’t wait until then. Forgive me.” His mouth was hard on hers, desperate.
    There was a moan of pain as he tore his lips from hers. His eyes burrowed into hers. “If you truly love me, then forget me and live your life in celebration of what we couldn’t have. I’m not coming back. I fully expect you to move on... as I plan to.”
    Then he was gone.
    Silent sobs shook her frame until she stumbled and sank to the floor, her arms hugging around her as though it would help contain the pain of her splintering heart.
    The Northern Lights ripped through the fabric of the night sky.

Chapter Nineteen

    There wasn’t a lot of time until her date with Cub. A date she should have canceled. It wasn’t fair to spring her newly insane nature on him. But then maybe he could pull her back from the edge she teetered on. Give her that anchor to reality that she felt dragging.
    She’d spent most of the night lamenting on what Lucky had said, threatening him to come back to her, even going outside and yelling at the Northern Lights until the dogs in the neighborhood started to howl. When yelling hadn’t worked, she’d begged. And then cried until there were no more tears left in her body.
    Lucky never appeared.
    As a last resort, she swallowed one of the sleeping pills hiding in the drawer of her night table. And slept. No visit from her Dreamweaver, no astral projecting to him. Just sleep. She didn’t even think she moved.
    He was truly gone. And during the afternoon, after she’d cleaned her whole house, caught up with the meaningless tasks she’d been putting off, she realized Lucky was right.
    Her heart wept for him while her mind applauded his willpower and wished she could be as strong. Left up to her, she’d have followed him wherever he journeyed.
    Three times she’d picked up the phone to call and cancel with Cub, but Lucky’s plea to live her life in celebration of what was taken from them stayed her hand. She’d spent most of the early evening going back and forth over what she should do.
    Indecision became decision as evening approached.
    It was too late to cancel now. Besides, she liked Cub. They had a lot in common. He was noble, adventurous, and very nice to look at. A good man. One who reminded her of Lucky in a lot of ways.
    Okay, she needed to stop that.
    Comparing Cub to Lucky wouldn’t serve anybody. It wasn’t like Cub was looking to marry her or her him. It was dinner. They enjoyed each other’s company. Besides, they both needed to eat.
    A knock at the door suspended her thoughts. This would be good. A normal evening out with a man. A flesh and blood man. Nervous sweat broke out over her body and she waved her hands in front of her face, hoping she didn’t have a sheen on her skin.
    She opened the door, welcoming the chilly air to cool her overheated body. Cub stood there dressed in dark slacks, a button-down white shirt, and tie, with a dark wool coat left to hang open. The cold didn’t seem to faze him. A box of chocolates was clutched in his hand.
    “Wow, you look nice,” she blurted out. She’d never seen him in anything but jeans, t-shirts, or swim trunks. The man polished up pretty.
    “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” Cub said, cocking a nervous smile. “You do, by the way. Look nice that is.”
    She’d thrown on a black skirt that hit above the knees, and in deference to the weather had added tall leather boots. A simple, form-fitting black sweater topped off the outfit. At the last minute, she’d added a splash of color from the hand-painted sea-green silk