He caught her, steadying her. When she felt his hands close around her arms, she shuddered convulsively. With a low, ragged sound, she did the only thing she had the strength left to do. She turned her face away from the sight of him.
“Are you all right?” Chase felt her begin to sag in his arms. Her head rolled loosely. “Nicole!”
Weakly, futilely, she fought against being touched by him. She whispered “No,” again and again as though it would make a difference.
If she could have died, she would have.
“Leave her alone,” Dane said harshly.
“She needs help,” Chase said. He supported her with one hand and controlled her weakly flailing hands with the other. “She’s so sick with the flu that she can hardly stand.”
Dane muttered a searing obscenity. “Something made her sick, all right, but it wasn’t the flu. Let go of her. Can’t you see? She doesn’t want you to touch her.”
The bleakness of his brother’s voice startled Chase. Then he realized what Dane was trying to say. The unease that had stalked him since he left Nicole last night congealed in his stomach, making it turn over. He took a harsh breath through his teeth and turned Nicole’s chin so that she had to face him.
“How long were you in the living room?” he asked.
She closed her eyes before she could see him.
“Look at me,” Chase said hoarsely. “How much did you hear?”
Her eyes opened, but she didn’t see him. She looked through him, seeing nothing, wishing she could feel nothing as well. She would have sold her soul to be able to vanish.
“Let go of me.” Her voice was thready, a stranger’s voice. “I’m fine. Don’t touch me. Don’t. Please. Let go of me. Don’t. I’m fine.”
His breath came in with a rough sound. He looked from Nicole’s pale face to the helpless pain on Dane’s.
“What the hell is going on?” Chase asked.
“You won the bet,” Dane said wearily, “but you lost, brother. You lost big. But not as much as Nicole did. Shit.” He closed his eyes for a moment, not able to bear looking at her agony. “Let go of her before you make her sick all over again. As a matter of fact, I’m feeling more than a little sick myself.”
Chase didn’t want to believe what was on Dane’s face, in his voice, in the sag of his shoulders.
“Nicole?” he whispered, turning back to her.
She closed her eyes.
He looked at the pale, trembling woman he was supporting and felt bile rise in his throat in a burning wave. He didn’t want to believe that he had let his distrust of women warp his judgment to the point that he had hurt someone whose only fault lay in trusting him. Wanting him.
There’s a better explanation. There has to be. Flu and eavesdropping. That was it. It had to be.
When Nicole overheard the conversation, she realized that Dane was out of reach. A disappointment, to be sure, but hardly enough to literally sicken her. Women who made their living off men were tougher than that.
Or should be.
“Nicole.” Chase’s voice was gentle and very firm. “I’m sorry, but it had to be done. I couldn’t stand by and let you break up my brother’s marriage.”
She had thought she couldn’t be hurt any more. Big mistake. She could.
A ragged shudder went the full length of her body. The idea that people thought she was pursuing Dane was as terrible a blow as Chase’s summation of her as a woman.
“If it’s money you need, I’ll—” Chase began.
“Shut up,” Dane said coldly, cutting off his brother. “Christ Jesus, Chase, what’s happened with you and women? Can’t you see that Nicole didn’t want me as anything but a friend? But she wanted you, and I’ll bet she didn’t put any conditions on an affair or ask for any guarantees or money up front, did she?”
Chase closed his eyes, praying that his brother was wrong.
And afraid, very afraid, that he was right.
She didn’t ask me for one damn thing. And then she thanked me. Not for the pleasure I gave her, but for the simple lack of pain.
He swallowed against the acid coffee that kept trying to creep back up his throat. When he looked at Nicole again, her eyes were wide, fixed, and the skin around them looked bruised.
My God, what have I done to her?
“Nicole?” Chase asked gently, stroking her cheek with his fingertips.
With a small cry she flinched and swallowed convulsively, answering questions Chase hadn’t even asked. She had overheard enough. Too much. It had hurt her in a way that he could barely comprehend.
There was one thing he knew without any doubt. She might have wanted him last night, but she couldn’t bear his touch this morning. It literally sickened her.
Slowly, very slowly, Chase released Nicole and stepped aside.
“Nicole,” Dane said, reaching out to give her a comforting hug, the way he would have his own children if they were hurt. “It will be all right, honey.”
“No. Oh, no.” Nicole backed away as far as she could from both men in the small bathroom.
“Nicole?” Dane asked, lowering his arms. “You know I won’t hurt you.”
“Yes. I know. Don’t touch me. Please.” Her voice was a raw whisper. “Don’t anyone touch me. Not yet. Maybe tomorrow. Yes. I’ll be fine tomorrow. But don’t touch me now. Please.”
For a long, long moment there was no sound but Nicole’s ragged breathing as she fought to bring herself under control.
Watching her, cold waves of certainty broke over Chase. He had been wrong about her from the beginning. All the way wrong. Brutally wrong. Nicole hadn’t been after Dane.
If she had been hesitant in the lovemaking last night, it came from something else. Fear. Simple fear.
She had been afraid.
What was she afraid of? Chase asked himself silently. My size? That doesn’t make sense. If she was afraid of big men, why was she attracted to me in the first place?
“Nicole, I didn’t mean to—” he began.
“That’s all right,” she said quickly, cutting across Chase’s words, staring through him with a ghastly social smile. “I understand. Really I do. You wanted to protect. Your brother.” Her eyes focused on Dane. Her laughter made both men flinch in sympathetic pain. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t laugh. It’s not at you. It’s just—the idea.”
“The idea?” Dane asked softly. “Of what, honey?”
“Of marriage. Of marrying anyone. Even you, Dane. Being a man’s thing again. Legally. Morally. All day. Every day. And the nights.” Revulsion racked Nicole.
Chase had played football long enough to know how to control the nausea caused by pain. It was the only thing that kept him from being as sick as she had been. He finally understood the meaning of her whispered good-bye: Thank you for not hurting me.
She had been afraid to come to him because she was afraid of sex.
Yet she had come to him anyway.
“Nicole—” Chase’s voice was raw with emotion, but she kept on talking, hearing only her own words, her unfocused eyes seeing things that made his stomach test the limits of his willpower.
He didn’t know which was worse, hearing Nicole’s shattered voice or hearing the voice in his own mind telling him that he had just made a hideous mistake—and someone else was paying for it, someone who couldn’t afford the cost.
Thank you for not hurting me.
Chase began to swear softly, terribly, hating himself and the whole situation with an intensity that bordered on violence.
Nicole didn’t even look at him. She didn’t trust herself to. She focused on Dane and held her voice very carefully. She had to sound calm, normal, like nothing had happened.
“I’m going home. Tell Lisa . . .” Nicole’s voice frayed into silence. When she could speak again, it was only a whisper. “Tell her I’ll call.”
“I’ll drive you home,” Chase said tightly. “You’re in no shape to handle a car.”
“I’m fine.”
&n
bsp; “Like fucking hell you are!”
“I’ll drive her,” Dane said. He put a warning hand on Chase when he would have stopped Nicole from edging past him on the way out of the bathroom. “You can follow and bring me home.”
Chase started to object, then realized it was useless. “Shit.” The savage word echoed as he stepped out of Nicole’s way. Much more gently, he said, “We’ll talk later, when you feel better.”
“No.” Her voice was very soft, very final.
“Yes.” He held out his hand to her, only to have her flinch away again. He ran the hand through his hair in a gesture of barely restrained frustration. “I’m sorry, Nicole. God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand. I really believed you were trying to break up Dane’s marriage. Suddenly every conversation and letter was filled with Nicole this and Nicole that, and all Dane had to say about Jan was that she was busy on this or that project. I just assumed that you and he—”
“I understand,” Nicole interrupted quickly, her mind working at frantic speed, focused on a single truth. I can’t hang on much longer. I have to get out of here before I fly apart. Realizing that she had been holding herself frozen too long, she took a sawing breath. “You’re right. Dane is funny, warm, intelligent. Gentle.” Her voice caught on the edge of breaking. “So gentle. Any woman would want him.”
“You left out rich,” Dane said, giving his older brother a slicing sideways glance.
“Rich,” she repeated obediently. “Excuse me. I really have to go now.”
Chase saw that Nicole was clinging to her control by her fingernails. “Nicole—” His voice broke. “My God—I never meant—I didn’t think I could hurt you that—that you—”
“It’s all right,” she said, talking quickly over his words, not listening. She couldn’t bear to hear him, to look at him, to know what he really thought of her. She desperately wanted it to end—all the words, the fear, the tearing need to scream and keep on screaming and yet knowing she must not scream. Not yet. “I understand.” She gave Dane another ghastly smile. “Sorry I was so obvious about liking you. I hope Jan didn’t—”
The thought of Jan wondering if her friend was stalking Dane snapped the last of Nicole’s control. With no warning she bolted past Dane and down the hall, catching both of the men flat-footed. She paused only long enough to scoop up the purse she had dropped on the living room floor.
When she heard the men calling her name, she knew they weren’t going to let her go alone. She fumbled her keys out of her purse, jammed the correct one in the car’s ignition, and heard the fickle engine roar to life.
Thank you, God.
Leaves and fallen blossoms flew wildly from beneath the spinning tires. She barely kept the car from fishtailing out of control. But she managed. Just.
Chase saw the little car accelerate. Cursing steadily, he spun around and headed for his own car.
Dane tackled him.
“Forget it!” Dane panted, struggling to hold on to his larger, stronger brother. “By the time you back out, she’ll be long gone. No sense in having two emotional wrecks on the road at once. Not a damn thing you could do anyway, even if you did catch her.”
With a controlled, violent motion, Chase broke Dane’s hold. “I could see that she gets home safely.”
Warily Dane circled Chase, knowing quite well that his brother would be happy to take out his anger the old-fashioned male way—a good brawl.
“What makes you think she’s going home?” Dane asked.
“Where else would she go?”
“To the mountain.” Dane gestured toward Kilauea. “Benny says she always goes there when she gets mainland sad.”
The thought of some other man comforting Nicole nearly cut loose Chase’s temper. “Benny? Who the hell is he? You said she didn’t have any boyfriends!”
“Benny Kamehameha.” Dane watched his brother with narrowed eyes, gauging his mood. He had never seen Chase like this. Raw. Wild. Dangerous. “Bobby’s youngest son. He’s ten. Surely Lisa mentioned him to you? Benny of the short sentences?”
Chase took a deep breath and slowly unclenched his fists. “Oh. That Benny. I see.”
Dane saw that the danger had passed. “Do you? Nicole likes kids, and they like her. Of course,” he added sarcastically, “she could just be buttering up the kids because they have rich daddies.”
“Fuck you,” Chase snarled, turning on his brother suddenly.
Dane’s smile was razor thin. “Just wanted to be sure the hair shirt fit, brother. It’s so hard to find clothes in your size.”
Chase’s mouth flattened into a line. “That’s the second one.”
Dane nodded, understanding the old phrase from their childhood. If he needled Chase again, he could expect a no-holds-barred fight.
“What is ‘mainland sad’?” Chase asked carefully. His whole body was clenched with the effort of controlling himself. Like Nicole, he wanted to go away somewhere and try to understand how he could have been so brutally wrong. But he needed information about her more than he had to be alone. He needed that information with an intensity he didn’t even question. “Is she homesick?”
Slowly Dane shook his head. “Nicole loves it here. She was born for the islands. It just took her a few years to find her way over here.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never asked. She’s never offered. I assume it’s something to do with men, because she never dated. Until you. You were different.”
Chase closed his eyes, realizing too late the simple truth. “So was she.”
He turned away from his brother.
“Where are you going?” Dane asked.
“To the mountain.”
“It’s a big place. I don’t think you’ll find her.”
“No, but maybe I’ll find what she’s looking for.”
“What’s that?”
“Peace.”
19
For the first few miles Nicole drove, she spent as much time looking in the mirrors as she did at the road ahead. Not until she reached the first of the sugarcane fields that had been transformed into cattle pastures did she begin to relax.
She was over the first, and worst, hurdle. Now all she had to do was hang on long enough to find the tiny kipuka she thought of as her personal sanctuary. Once she was there, she would be free to do whatever she wanted—cry or scream or curse—and most of all to ask why until either answers or the fragile peace of emotional exhaustion came to her.
She took an unmarked, rough spur road that went about two thousand feet up Kilauea’s fertile, lava-scarred flank. The road ended in a thick lava flow. It was just one of the many black-stone rivers twisting down toward the sea and just one of many roads that ended beneath a cooled lava flow. The flows came from fissures that gushed liquid stone from the volcano’s flanks whenever magma bubbled and seethed upward in response to shifts in the immense pressures beneath the earth.
Each frozen river marked a time of desolation and renewal, of plant life destroyed while more land was created. Death and rebirth, the paradox of the burning mountain.
Both the desolation and the creation called to Nicole. In a way that she couldn’t describe, the ravaged land spoke to her, giving silent testimony to the stubborn endurance and ultimate beauty of life. For each savage moment of new land boiling up from the earth’s molten interior, for each violent river of fire scorching through green vegetation, there was also a long time of tranquillity and renewal.
No matter how bad it looked after an eruption, the destruction was never total.
Within the lava flows themselves, kipukas survived. These tiny islands of life were landlocked arks that nourished plants and animals until it was safe to leave again. Then, once more, life grew and changed, meeting the new conditions of the newly born land, life creating something both soft and vital from the fertile ashes of destruction.
That was what Nicole needed as she stumbled over a track that only she and Benny ever walked. She needed to
sit in the midst of life that had survived incredible devastation. She needed to look beyond the safety of the kipuka and see the tiny signs of life venturing out once more, colonizing land that was as hard and sharp as the moment it had cooled years and years ago.
What tiny, fragile flowers could do, she could do.
Survive.
But first she had to find her own inner islands where emotions had survived the morning’s devastation.
If nothing had survived, she had to know that, too.
Without kipukas it took longer for life to enrich the landscape of volcanic creation, but life did win out. Even islands that had been first covered with and then surrounded by half a planet’s worth of water finally managed to rise above the waves and clothe themselves in ferns and flowers and sweetly singing birds. If Hawaii was possible, anything was possible.
Anything.
The kipuka was small, hardly more than an acre. It was a startling emerald garden bordered by the scrubby plants and grasses that struggled to conquer the brilliant black of a pahoehoe flow. Unlike most kipukas, this one was a small hill poking above the flow rather than a hole surrounded by walls left by more recent lava flows. The kipuka was thick with plants, because its lava floor was old enough to have crumbled into a thin, fertile soil. Ferns grew where other plants couldn’t. Colorful kopiko and ohelo bushes were everywhere. So was the familiar ohia tree, raising its graceful crown, silently offering hundreds of bright red flowers to the sun.
Nicole eased through the thick growth, seeking her favorite spot beneath a many-trunked koa tree. A remnant of once-vast forests, the tree with its thickly spreading roots had prevented other woody plants from moving in too close. The result was a sun-splashed opening where mixed grasses and small flowering plants like koali morning glories or white strawberries grew.
With a feeling of relief so great it was painful, she sank down onto the grass and leaned back against one of the koa’s nearly smooth trunks. She didn’t try to think, to question, to understand. She simply sat, letting the peace of the kipuka seep into her like a healing balm.
Eden Burning / Fires of Eden Page 15
