"This was taken a little over five years ago," he finally said. "We met in high school-"

"Don't," Haley said quickly, lifting a hand to stop him. "You don't have to."

"I know. I want to." He stared at the photo. "I've not spoken about it except to my family in all his time…" His gaze met hers then. "But I want you to know."

She knew what he was doing. He was going to open up, share himself, in the hope she'd do the same. But she'd done nothing to deserve him or his friendship-nothing but lie. She couldn't possibly feel worse. "Cam."

Taking the rag from her hands, he ran it over the glass in the frame. "Lorraine was gorgeous, smart. Funny. Everything I could have asked for, except one thing." His eyes pierced hers. "She couldn't he honest to save her life."

Haley's mouth opened. Then closed.

"She lied indiscriminately, about anything. Everything. Where she'd been, what she'd done. Strangely enough, not about other men, but about everything else… I know now she couldn't help it. She was sick. But it drove me crazy." He stared at the picture. "By the time I finished college, we'd been on and off so many times I'd lost count, but I wanted her. No matter how many times she hurt me, I wanted her." He sighed, then slipped his hands into his pockets, and she knew his hands were fisted. "She kept lying, and I kept wanting. We had no business getting married, but I… Well, I was stubborn."

He let out a little laugh. "The way I went through women during our off times before our wedding drove Lorraine mad. She came after me one night, I think to skin my hide, but we ended up taking it out in passion instead."

God, she didn't want to hear this, but she couldn't tear herself away. And the pain and regret on Cam's face squeezed her heart.

"She got pregnant." His melancholy smile disappeared and Haley's stomach tightened.

"I worked as a stockbroker then-fourteen, maybe fifteen hours a day." He broke off at her look of surprise and nodded grimly. "Yeah, believe it or not."

Something ached inside Haley at the look of pure torture on his face. She dreaded whatever was coming next. "Cam-"

"I worked hard and long," he said harshly, ignoring her. "No matter what, regardless of what Lorraine wanted. I don't know why, really. I hated the work, but I was driven. And I hated the lies. Always, more lies. But I wanted that baby." He shook his head. "I was working the night she went into labor, and because she'd been paging me nightly for no particular reason except she was lonely, I didn't call back right away. Didn't want to stop working."

He closed his eyes and Haley reached for him, unable to stop herself from offering comfort she knew wouldn't help. She touched his shoulder and he opened his eyes to look at her, his deep, dark brown eyes shiny and full with emotion.

"She died ten minutes after my son did. I wasn't there."

"Oh, Cam," she said softly, "I'm so sorry." The words were hopelessly inadequate. Awkwardly, because she had never become accustomed to giving any part of herself, she stepped closer. He might resent her sympathy, or reject any offer of comfort, but she found she had to try because watching him suffer hurt. So, for the first time in her life, she reached out to another human being by choice and gave what she had.

He went unhesitatingly into her arms, making her understand how actions could soothe more than words. This was what life was really about, she thought, awed. The intermingling of lives, love… death. Her own life had been so sorely lacking in these experiences, so sheltered, she could only hold him, and hope it was enough.

Silently they stood there, locked together, grieving; him for what had been; her, for what never had been.

Max came upon them that way, and his joy at finding two of the people he cared most about in the entire world proved too much. Yipping and jumping at their feet, he peed everywhere.

Haley leaped back, hopelessly flustered and a little embarrassed. The puppy just sat in the puddle, wagging his tail and panting happily.

Cam gave a hoarse little laugh as he studied the wet dog, who didn't look in the least bit humiliated by his faux pas. "The least you could do is pretend to be humbled." And when, amazingly, the puppy did, bowing his little head, Cam bent to rub his neck, murmuring sympathetically, "I've told you, buddy, you can't show your eagerness so quickly. Make them come to you." Cam obligingly hunkered down when Max rolled over to offer his belly for scratching. Then Cam rose, shaking his head at the puddle. "All right, Max. We've put this off long enough because I understood how you felt about such things, but we can't delay this another minute. Bath time."

Max stood, too, looking unusually alert and wary.

"I'll clean this up," Haley said quickly, needing to escape the unfamiliar closeness. She moved to get a mop.

"Don't, I'll get it." Cam lifted his head from the dog long enough to give her a smile, though sadness lingered in his eyes. His voice sounded husky, intimate. "I don't expect you to clean up this kind of stuff."

At a loss for words, Haley picked up the forgotten rag, then stuffed it awkwardly into her bucket of supplies. Cam was still looking at her in a way that made thinking difficult. She moved toward the door, then stopped. He'd given her something new. Closeness. She felt she had to give something back. "Cam?"

"Yes?" Their eyes met, clung.

She felt something pass between them, some sort of silent awareness. "I'm… in trouble." She braced for the barrage of questions she knew was coming.

But he said nothing; just waited, his expression so open and unexpectedly patient, her eyes suddenly stung. "I am-was-in charge of a team of geologists. And I'm on the run."

"From the co-worker you told me about?"

"Yes."

"Are you safe here?

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

Now her vision wavered behind her unshed tears. She'd lied to him, hurt him, and what he cared about most was her safety. Well, she cared about his, too. "I'm sure."

He didn't move, as if he knew she was on the very edge and would fall apart if he so much as took a step toward her. "How come you're telling me now?"

"You- You're not like anyone I've ever met."

His gaze heated and her body reacted similarly.

"Why, Haley, I do believe that was a compliment."

"It was."

"Thanks for listening to me before," he said softly. "I didn't realize how much I needed to talk."

"I'm glad I was here." But she winced at the breathy sound of her voice. She gripped the doorjamb, feeling as though his gaze pinned her to the spot.

"Maybe I could return the favor," he suggested. "You could tell me more. About you."

"Cam-"

He just shook his head at the warning in her voice. "I'm not trying to push, Haley." Grimacing, he shoved a hand through his hair in an unusual show of frustration and said, "Okay, maybe I am. I want to know more."

And after what she'd just found out about him, she could understand why. She certainly understood his edginess at how she refused to be honest. It hurt him, and made her feel ashamed.

"It's the first time in a long time for me," he said. "I want to know everything."

What was he saying? That despite it all, he was still attracted to her? It was hard to believe that he felt anything more than a passing fancy. Or perhaps she didn't want to believe, because the thought was more than a little terrifying.

"Do you understand?" he asked, gingerly holding the wet, squirming puppy. "I want to know more about you. You're a geologist, for God's sake. Tell me more."

"Why?"

"Because I care about you."

Oh, Lord. Her stomach went all fluttery. Had anyone ever said that to her before? "It's only been a couple of days."

"My caring is not a death sentence," Cam said, a little smile playing about his lips. Only his eyes showed the lingering hurt from what he'd told her about his wife. Or had she caused that?

"Letting me get to know you won't hurt all that much."

She laughed nervously. "Don't be too sure."


* * *

She'd called her old apartment. The knowledge caused a smile. After searching for her for days-days-waiting for her to make a move, she had.

Now there was proof that Dr. Haley Whitfield was indeed alive.

That little fact would have to be remedied. Soon. As soon as her location was pinpointed.


* * *

Sleep was impossible. Haley gave it up at dawn. She showered, dressed and opened her front door to admire the gorgeous fall morning. Dark still prevailed, but to the east she could see the sharp outline of the mountains as the sky above them lightened perceptibly. The trees rustled noisily in the early wind. Somewhere a rooster crowed. Another minute passed. The sky turned purple, then red, then a glorious yellow as the sun appeared over the tops of the peaks.

Taking a deep breath of the crisp, clear air, Haley found herself smiling at the glory of it. How often in her life had she taken time for sunrises? Never.

Wrapping Cam's denim jacket more tightly around her, she started walking toward the big house. The air seemed to vibrate with the sounds of birds and insects, and since the path was heavily lined with fallen leaves, the ground crunched pleasantly beneath her feet. Her breath crystallized in front of her. Soon it would get even colder and snow would come.

Would she still be here? Silly to hope so, but she did. And hard to believe she felt so content with this life after the one she'd left-or was it?

It wasn't until she was nearly to the ranch house that she realized she hadn't once used her ulcer medicine. Yes, she still suffered from insomnia, but the headaches that had plagued her for years had gone, too.