A Healing Love Read Free

in some way.
    Whoever he was, he obviously knew who she was. Or at least guessed. She hadn’t been back to Alaska since she was seven, but this man was looking at her as if he knew her. No, that wasn't quite right. He was staring at her as if she were a ghost. There was a mixture of shock and...and something Mica couldn’t name.
    “Hi, I’m Mica Richards,” she offered brightly, holding out her hand. “You must be from the general store in town? Mr. Teegr?”
    The man looked at her hand as if it were something strange, then looked at her face, then back down at her hand. His nostrils flared before he took a deep, shuddering breath, then took a half step backwards. Mica could’ve sworn there were unshed tears in his eyes.
    Well, alrighty then.
    Couldn’t be she reminded this man of her parents. She didn't really look like either of them, though she was the spitting image of her paternal grandmother. So, what was this man’s deal? Honestly, he looked like he was either going to cry, or go all mountain man crazy and kill her. It was such a weird reaction, Mica awkwardly dropped her hand and lost her smile. Just a split second before the man let out a whoop loud enough to rattle the walls and swooped her up in a bear hug.
    “Welcome back, little one! We were so scared—so very scared! We didn't think you would ever return, that you’d— No, never mind that now. I’m so very happy you’re home!”
    From strange to downright crazy, that about summed up this meeting. Not really the reaction she’d expected, but then again, it was wonderful to meet someone who’d known her before the mystery affliction made her life a series of test and doctors. No one had hugged her like this in years. The years of living with careful touching, of people treating her like she was made of the most fragile porcelain, had been isolating.
    It didn’t matter that the massive mountain man was a stranger to her. He was certainly very sure of her identity. Mica couldn’t recall her parents ever talking about a Russian man in town, and he most certainly had a thick Russian accent, but he had to have known them. For one brief, shining moment, Mica closed her eyes and relished the careless gesture of affection. The man smelled of pine and something wild. Most of all, his embrace didn't even hurt. A rare, wonderful thing, as everything seemed to hurt more and more these days.
    “Get! Off! Her! NOW!!” Mica more or less felt the thuds against the man even though the blows weren’t anywhere near her. “You’re hurting her you big, dumb oaf! Let! Her! Go!”
    “Megan, stop!” Mica jumped away as soon as she realized what was happening. Oh God, Megan was actually whaling on the poor guy with an umbrella! And she was swinging with all her might. “He didn't know! And he didn’t hurt me at all, I swear!”
    How could she have forgotten Megan; the woman was fiercely protective. Almost fanatical. How could she have forgotten her constant companion? Sometimes Mica swore Megan acted like her illness was all her fault, which was insane of course. Every doctor, every scientist, even some witch doctors claimed Mica was suffering from some rare genetic defect. That left Megan completely in the free and clear, as they weren't related by blood.
    “Didn’t hurt you?” Suddenly the fatherly man who had hugged her unabashedly looked downright fierce. Those strange eyes of his blazed as if he were ready to tear something apart. Oh, not her; Mica didn't feel threatened in the least. Not Megan either—he was completely ignoring the woman who had just tried to beat the crap out of him. In fact, he looked kind of similar to the way her father used to look when he was afraid she had gotten hurt.
    “She’s fragile, you dunderhead!” Megan was fuming, throwing down the umbrella and rushing to stand in front of Mica like she could really keep a man his size away from her. “A simple hug causes excruciating pain for her. You must never, ever touch