by T. K. Lukas
Hands around her waist pulled her up, tugged at her, drug her away from the burning house.
“Trevor!” She screamed. She pounded with her fists and clawed at the hands that held onto her. Trying to pull free, she struggled and kicked. “Let me go. My son is inside—”
He held on tighter so that she wouldn’t run back into the house. “Mama. Stop. It’s me. I’m here. The hallway was on fire. I jumped out the window, too.”
Eli spun around and fisted her hands into his T-shirt. She stared up at his face, blinking away the smoke stinging her eyes. She had to make sure it was him. When it registered in her mind and in her heart that it was Trevor, with Gunner beside him, she pressed her face to his chest. Her sobs were drowned out by the blaring smoke alarm’s high-pitched wail.
Trevor spoke quickly. “Run next door and wait on the porch. I’m moving the car away from the house. Keep Gunner with you.”
“Be careful,” she called to his back.
Smoke and flames billowed from the roof as Trevor sprinted to the driveway. He opened the car door and shoved the gearshift into neutral. Aided by the natural slope of the drive, he easily pushed the car a safe distance away from the burning building.
“Is your purse in your bedroom?” Trevor shouted, running across the lawn.
“Yes, but it’s not important. Don’t risk going back inside. Please, Trevor, don’t.”
“You keep your medicine in your purse.” Trevor ran toward the window that smoke now poured from. “Where in your room?”
“On the nightstand,” she shouted back. “But I can call the doctor for new prescriptions. Trevor…” Eli’s voice cracked. She stood on the neighbor’s porch, one hand a worried fist, the other clutching Gunner’s collar. She watched her son disappear into the smoky window. The dog stood transfixed. His eyes never strayed from the last spot where he’d seen Trevor disappear.
What seemed like long minutes passed. Curious neighbors gathered on their lawns and porches. Some came over to stand with Eli. A news helicopter appeared and hovered overhead. Fire engines drew closer, their screaming sirens growing louder.
Gunner—anxious and panting—began struggling against Eli’s grasp on his collar. He twisted and ducked in his attempt to gain his freedom. The dog’s frantic behavior, along with his weight and strength, proved more than Eli could control. He broke free. With his eyes fixed on Trevor’s last location, Gunner ran into the smoke and leapt into the window.
CHAPTER 14
Alpine
Sidney stood in front of the full-length mirror and stared at her image. She hardly recognized herself. The stress of the last couple of weeks—months—had taken its toll on her weight, which had plummeted. Seeing her naked body, the protruding hipbones, the washboard ribs she could visibly count, the cheekbones that made her face appear gaunt, brought the harsh reality home.
I’m a skeleton. Not an attractive look for me.
She riffled through her closet, searching for items that might add bulk to her frame. Layers upon layers should do the trick. She piled on the clothes. Panties. Lacy tank top. Ralph Lauren floral mini-dress. A pastel sweater to cover her bony arms. A denim jacket on top of that was even better. Her favorite pair of retro-style cowgirl boots, pink and brown with pointed toes and tooled roses around the shaft to match the pink sweater. A rose-colored scarf? A matching scarf? A contrasting scarf? All of the scarves. Off with the boots. On with some leggings to cover her knobby knees. Back on with the boots.
There. She studied her image in the mirror. Ten pounds, plus. Much better.
Five thirty on the dot, and a knock at the door told her Markus had arrived. She checked out the peephole just to make sure.
“Hi. Right on time.” She opened the door to allow him inside.
“Didn’t want to scare you like I did this morning.” Markus eyed her outfit. “You look great. A little overdressed for the Alpine rodeo, but that’s okay by me. Are you cold?”
“I… No. Not really. Not with a sweater, jacket, leggings, and three scarves.” Sidney forced a laugh. “A bit much, huh?” She unwound the scarves and threw them on the sofa. “If you’ll excuse me a minute. Pour yourself a glass of wine, if you’d like.”
“Can I pour you one, too?”
“Sure. Be right out.”
When Sidney returned to the living room, minus the leggings, the denim jacket, and the sweater, she took the glass of wine Markus offered. “Thanks. So…”
“You’re welcome. What was that all about?” Markus sat on a barstool with his back to the breakfast counter, facing Sidney who’d plopped down on the arm of the sofa.
“You mean, all the clothes?”
“Yes.”
“It was nothing.” She shrugged and sipped her wine. Looked away.
“It was—something.”
“I guess I was trying to hide how skeletal I’ve become. Diet by divorce.”
“There’s no need to feel self-conscious, Sidney. You’re beautiful just the way you are. But if you think you need to pack on some pounds, dinner at Edelweiss after the rodeo will be a positive step in that process.” Markus smiled and sipped his wine.
Those dimples and those sad eyes will be my undoing.
“I appreciate the positive reinforcement.” The fact that he said she looked beautiful was not lost on her. In fact, it heated her in a place that hadn’t felt heat in a long time.
“Well. Are you ready to go?” Markus finished his last sip and set the glass down.
“Might as well.” She handed Markus her half-finished wine glass.
“You seem reluctant. I noticed that earlier today. What’s up?”
Sidney huffed out a sigh. “I was greeted by some of the rodeo contestants my first day in Alpine. The bunch, more like a pack of wolves, was pretty vulgar and rowdy. Confrontational. Ruth’s grandson, Victor, was among them. Please don’t say anything to her. It sounds like she dotes on him and I’d hate to ruin that for her. Anyway, it could have gotten ugly, but it didn’t. I’ll just leave it at that.”
“I’ll keep an eye on that rowdy bunch. Come here. Please.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to tell you something, and I need for you to see that I’m sincere.”
“I can hear you from here.” But Sidney got up from her perch on the arm of the sofa and walked over to Markus seated on the barstool. “What do you want to tell me?”
Markus took her hands in his. The look in his eyes softened from the earlier darkness Sidney had noticed. Sad still, but softer. She studied them, wanting very much to know what was behind the sadness.
“That I think you’re amazing. Kind hearted. Sweet. You’re going through a hell of a dark time in your life, you’ve got the devil on your tail, yet today, you were pleasant and amusing with my friends, you offered to help me with my PTSD, and now, you’re concerned for Ruth and how she relates to her grandson. You put others before yourself. Are you always this good?”
“No.” Sidney shook her head. She stood in between Markus’s spread knees, absorbed the heat from his body, and felt the friction of his thumb as it stroked the back of her hand. And, at that moment, she wanted to scream that all she wanted was to be bad.
“I have a hard time believing you’re not always that good.” Markus narrowed his knees until they braced against Sidney’s thighs. “You’re shaking. I’ll buttress you.”
Sidney leaned her head back and stared up at him. Tears welled in her eyes. “That’s the kindest thing I’ve heard in a long time. I’ll… buttress… you.” Her words, breaths, and tears commingled, and she stood frozen in place.
“Do you want me to hold you? Would that be all right?”
“Yes.” She nodded. And when he wrapped his arms around her, she melted into him, let him enclose her, and she wept against his chest.
For as long as she needed, he simply held her. Let her cry. Didn’t speak. He waited until she pulled away. The moment was over almost before it began. He reached back behind his head where h
e’d seen a stack of napkins on the kitchen counter and handed her one.
“Now it’s my turn to play doctor and assess you.” Markus stroked her back, his fingers kneading and massaging along the tense muscles running up and down her spine. “You take care of everyone else. Neglect yourself. You have no one to take care of you. You’re stressed to the max with this terrifying divorce from ‘the devil’ who has turned you into a fugitive. You barely allow yourself the luxury of a good cry. That was all of what—a minute or two worth of tears? I think you might have a bit of post-traumatic stress, yourself.”
“Is that your assessment, doctor?” She blew her nose and wiped her eyes.
“More like mid-traumatic stress, in your case, but I don’t think there’s a diagnosis for that. We’ll just call it a good old-fashioned case of battle fatigue.”
Sidney sniffed and blew her nose again. “I am in the biggest battle of my life. Fatigued? Yes.”
“I’ve helped lots of Marines and soldiers deal with PTSD. That’s how I met Trevor, working with the Wounded Warrior program. You can talk to me, Sid. I’m a good listener. It might help.”
“Thank you for the diagnosis, Doctor Markus, and for offering to help. But, I don’t think I can afford your fees.” She felt certain she could not, and money had nothing to do with it.
Sidney was aware that he still had her thighs braced between his. She hadn’t made a move to pull free from his arms still encircling her waist or from the hands massaging her back. She could have—her hands rested on his forearms. It would have been easy to push away. She saw where her tears left wet stains on his shirt, but he hadn’t made a move to pat it dry. In that moment of feeling physically and emotionally connected to this man, to this person who took nothing from her, who asked nothing of her, she—breathed.
“How about a ‘trade-for-trade’ kind of arrangement?” Markus relaxed his grip and moved Sidney a bit farther back from where she’d been standing. His hands now rested on her shoulders, allowing eye contact.
“Explain ‘trade-for-trade, please.” She crossed her arms against her chest, a mock-wary expression on her face.
“You have professional and clinical experience. I have professional and battlefield experience. You talk to me. I talk to you. We help each other.” His voice was serious. There was nothing playful about the expression in his eyes.
“Trade-for-trade?”
“Yes.”
Sidney studied him. It took her a split second to make up her mind. “You give. You support, or buttress, as the case may be. You help. You counsel. You protect. Are you always this good?”
“Not always.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Sidney stepped into the inner “v” of his thighs. The heat from his body radiated. She ran her hands from his knees to the outside of his upper thighs, feeling his muscles tensing, his entire body tightening and pulling back. She shot him a questioning look, wondering if she’d misread his desire.
“This is what came to mind when I heard you say you’d help me, and I’d help you.” Sidney kept her hands firmly on his thighs. “But, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I had the impression you were interested. Am I making a fool of myself?” She gave a self-deprecating half-chuckle.
“Certainly not. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t interested. It’s just that—I don’t get involved—not when I’m on a mission. And we both know my mission is to protect and keep you safe. Getting involved goes against my rules.”
“Tonight, I don’t want to play by the rules.” She stared hard into his eyes and added, “And I don’t want to get involved either. That’s not what this is all about.”
“Sid, I get what you’re saying. But, I can’t. I—”
“Okay. I understand. No harm. No foul.” She was fully aware of his hands still on her shoulders. Fully aware that his grip had tightened somewhat.
“Please understand, it’s not that I don’t want you.”
“This is what I want. What I need.” She took a tentative step forward, closing the small gap between their bodies.
“Damn it, you’re making this hard.”
“I hope so.” She leaned in and placed her lips against his.
A groan that sounded like an animal released from long captivity rumbled in his throat. Markus lifted Sidney onto his lap, so that her legs straddled his. He cupped her face between his hands, his mouth hovering, his lips brushing against hers. Then, lowering his mouth onto hers, his tongue explored, delving into those hidden places he’d imagined.
Sidney pulled away long enough to catch her breath. She reached to unbutton his shirt, but he caught her hand. He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed each one. He lingered his mouth on her wrist before placing her palm against his chest. Then, he placed his own palm over her heart.
“I wanted to see if yours was beating like a jackhammer, like mine.”
“I can feel they both are.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Markus kissed her neck, biting along the line between her ear and shoulder blade.
“This is exactly what I want.” She threw her head back, savoring the pleasure.
What she wanted was to regain power over her life—to feel again a sense of control over the things that had set her world spinning. And for this moment, she was in control. She wanted a man’s hands on her body, there because she invited them. Markus did not demand, take, or force. It was not his idea to ask for this. She was asking. She was taking. She knew what she wanted. She wanted Markus.
He stood and scooped her up in his arms and began walking toward the bedroom. Sidney laced her arms around his neck, placing soft kisses on his chest, his ear, his lips, anywhere her mouth could reach.
A noise rattled the silence. Her cellphone vibrated on the nightstand where she’d tossed it next to her purse. Markus lowered her onto the bed. “Do you want your phone?”
“I want you.”
“It could be an emergency.” Markus picked up the phone and offered it to Sidney as he stretched out on the bed next to her.
“You’re right.” She reached for the phone.
She played the garbled voicemail on speaker. Sidney recognized Eli’s voice, but the message was incomprehensible. They replayed the message several times and still could not determine its meaning, though both agreed it had something to do with Trevor.
Sidney hit the redial button and heard a busy signal. She attempted this several times, each time with the same result. She didn’t recognize the number, other than it had a Fort Worth area code. She laid the phone aside and lay back on the bed.
“What do you make of that?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. Maybe Eli was just calling to check on you?”
“I don’t know. Why wouldn’t it be coming from her home phone? Or, from Trevor’s cellphone?”
They lay on their sides, face-to-face. Markus stroked the length of Sidney’s arm and then pulled her body up against his. His mouth sought hers, the kiss tender, deep, and full of questions.
He paused a moment to say, “I can do a reverse search on that phone number to see where it originated. I’d have to get to my computer to do it. Or, I can stay here, pick up where we left off.” There, he resumed the kiss.
Sidney pulled her head back and sighed, “Saved by the buzzer.” But she pressed her body closer against his, not ready to let go of the moment entirely.
“What do you mean?”
“My cellphone buzzing saved me from my impetuous behavior.”
“Impetuous?” Markus’s deep laugh rattled against Sidney’s chest. “That was passionate. Hot. Like you said, you’re a grown woman—you can do what you want. But, we can cool things off, if you’ve changed your mind.”
“I haven’t changed my mind, but the situation has changed. I think we need to investigate that number. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling something’s wrong.”
“I agree. I’ll run to the lodge and do a quick search. If you still want to g
o to the rodeo, we can probably make the second half. Be there in time for the bull riding, which is the last event of the night.”
“Since Ruth gave us the tickets, I think we should make an appearance. I’ll freshen up and be ready when you get back.”
“You’re not going to pile on all those clothes again, are you? I like you in just this little dress and your cowgirl boots. God, that looks sexy on you.” His mouth was on hers again, his hands roaming all over her body.
“Phone… number.” Sidney breathed the words out in two separate breaths.
“Right.” Markus pushed himself away. “I’ll be back in a flash.”
*****
The stands of the rodeo arena were packed, shoulder-to-shoulder and hat-to-hat. Fall evenings in Alpine, when cool breezes blew sedately through the valley, and crickets and cicadas serenaded the stars, were the kind of evenings when folks didn’t stay indoors. With a rodeo in town, the majority of the population could be found either watching or participating in one form or fashion.
Markus had left word with his contact to research the phone number that continued to offer a busy signal when redialed. He also checked to see if there was a response to his earlier request for a full background check on Rafael and Jessica Cordoba, as well as more information about Winston Knight and his previous divorce settlements and financial status. There was nothing, so far.
No news is good news.
Those words plucked at Markus’s mind as he picked Sidney up at the barn. As he drove to the rodeo arena, that same thought continued, interfering with other, more pleasant thoughts—her passionate kisses, her firm, small breasts against his chest. No news is good news. He tried hard to believe it.
“There’s Ruth and Otto,” said Markus, pointing Sidney toward the box seats that were sectioned off and nearest the bucking chutes. “Ruth likes to have the best view to see Victor ride.”
“Hi,” Ruth waved them over. “I thought y’all changed your minds. You’re just in time for the bull riding.”
