Prelude and Promises

by Barbara Baldwin

  “Come on. We have to get out of here.”

  She followed Jake inside and watched as he stuffed his blazer and her dress into the back pack. She picked up her heels, the ones she had worn to dinner what seemed like a lifetime ago. Had it only been two days?

  “You can’t walk out of here in those. Give them to me.”

  She clutched them to her chest. “First, and foremost, you are not tossing away another pair of my shoes. Second, have you forgotten you drove out here?”

  “There’s only one road into the park from the entrance off Highway 1. It ends at Mt. Baker. Traffic goes up and back on the same road.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “So we can’t get out of here without going past whoever is after you?”

  He shook his head, grabbed her shoes and added them to the pack. When they exited the bedroom, Trevor handed Jake bottles of water and some snack bars then tossed him a tee shirt which he quickly pulled over his head.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Jake, I’m barefoot.” It hadn’t seemed like a big deal being without shoes in the cabin but she wasn’t about to walk through the forest that way.

  Trevor quickly went into the back room and came out with a pair of socks and tennis shoes that looked huge. “Take these.”

  “You’ll need to buy Trevor another pair on the Donovan expense account.” Jake’s voice dripped sarcasm and Cheyenne sputtered.

  “You expect me to wear those?” She stood with arms askew.

  “What, they don’t match your outfit?”

  His rude words struck her like a blow, and something in her expression made him stop with a sigh. “Please. Put those on so we can get out of here.”

  Jake led her out the door but stopped and turned back to where Trevor stood in the doorway. “Thanks, man.”

  Trevor nodded. “I’ve got your back. If they get this far before the sheriff stops them, I can waylay them with park permits.”

  Jake turned toward a path into the woods. “Can you walk all right in those?” He asked as Cheyenne clopped beside him in shoes too large, even with two pairs of socks.

  “I exercise; I can manage a few miles.”

  Not really wanting to tell her it was more like four miles, he took the lead down the narrow path and kept up a steady pace. Luckily the path was well marked. As he walked, he thought back to what he had seen from the ranger tower. She had been crying on the porch, and that sight had torn at his heart. From the first time he had kissed her, he knew he had found what was missing from his life. So why had he thrown it all away with his careless words without giving her a chance to explain? He was not one for dramatics. His uncle, and his mother, God rest her soul, had thrown enough hysterics to last him a lifetime yet he had certainly acted like the broken hearted hero in a Greek tragedy.

  Cheyenne, on the other hand, had risen far and above any of them. After hearing her painful story, it was no wonder she was so loyal to his uncle. The prestige of her position at the Academy insured that people would respect her and she certainly deserved that, given what she had been through.

  So why had he callously ruined the intimacy they had shared? Of all the people in the world to disrespect her, it should not have been him. He loved her.

  He quickly glanced back to make sure Cheyenne was close then kept walking. He had a fuzzy memory of saying those words, but had it been out loud? Would she even believe him if he said it to her now?

  The sun was setting by the time they reached the cottage and Jake knew he could not get her safely back to town tonight, even if the threat was gone. Yet how safe was she with him? He wanted her again with an ache that ran deep but knew there were issues between them to resolve.

  He tossed the backpack in the corner and headed to the small kitchen area. “I’m afraid about all I have to eat is soup,” he said as he opened one cupboard after another looking at his meager supplies.

  “We would have had spaghetti if not for scurrying off through the forest.”

  He jaw dropped. “You made spaghetti? That was what I smelled?” His stomach grumbled in protest.

  She shrugged. “There is so much you don’t know about me...” She let the sentence trail off.

  So you shouldn’t have judged me, Jake mentally finished for her. You should have trusted me.

  “I think I’ll take a bath,” Cheyenne said and hurried off to the bathroom. She shouldn’t have been so harsh on him, but she honestly didn’t know what to do, how to act. She couldn’t imagine that he wanted her here, yet she was stuck, at least for the night until she could call Lindsay to pick her up.

  As she soaked in the tub, she heard Jake moving around in the outer room, but it wasn’t until she had gotten out that she realized she hadn’t brought any clean clothes in with her. She wrapped in a towel and peeked out the door.

  His gaze immediately found her. He quickly turned around and walked to the counter to plug in his phone. She glanced to where he had thrown the backpack but it was nowhere in sight. She made a dash into the bedroom, hoping he had put it there. She found the other outfit Trevor had gotten her laid out on the bed and quickly dressed.

  When she moved over to the mirror to try and untangle her hair, she found her silver clip lying next to his comb. Her eye caught a sparkle in the closet and she sucked in a breath. Her black dress was neatly hung up beside Jake’s blazer. Looking down, her heels were exactly lined up next to his loafers. She groaned. What did he want from her?

  She heard a phone ring and knew she couldn’t hide forever. When she came out of the bedroom, and Jake saw her, he moved the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker.

  “Sheriff, what’s up?”

  “Max’s Corsica was gone by the time I got to the park. It’s dark so I must have missed them on the way there. I checked back at the Ferry port and the car was there but the men gone. I do know they’re not staying on the island, so they must be ferrying back and forth.”

  “Did Max know their names, anything about them?”

  “You know Max. He takes cash only and doesn’t ask questions.” The sheriff paused before adding, “Jake, why would someone be after you? You haven’t been a resident long but you seem to belong. Is there something I need to be worried about?”

  “George, I’m not hiding from the law if that’s what you mean. I’m just an ordinary guy.”

  Cheyenne coughed.

  “We both know who you are,” the sheriff replied. “That’s why I asked you to play at Ramsey’s wedding. I only keep quiet about it because I don’t want hordes of people capsizing the ferries trying to catch a peek at you.”

  Jake hadn’t known. “I appreciate that.” He hung up and turned back to her.

  “Why is someone following us?”

  “You’re the famous one. I have nothing of value to anyone.”

  His gaze caressed her until she thought she would burst into flames. “You’re wrong about that, Cat.” His use of her nickname made her melt, his gaze sending signals that caused her heart to pound.

  He reached for her and banged his injured hand against a chair.

  “Shit.” He cringed and clutched his hand against his chest, the moment shattered.

  “Let me see.” She hurried over as he collapsed in the chair. His bandage was dirty and had partly unraveled. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

  “In the bathroom under the sink,” he said through clinched teeth.

  She hurried to get it, coming back to find him with a bottle of whiskey on the table.

  “Are you going to drink it or use it on your wound?” She took the bottle from him as he struggled to get it open. She went into the kitchen and got a glass, then easily twisted the cap open.

  “Both,” he grumbled. When she poured him a shot, he took the bottle from her and dumped more into the glass.

  Cheyenne was surprised at how fast his mood had changed, although she couldn’t blame him and was somewhat glad it had. They needed to talk although now didn’t seem the time.

  “Ouch. D
amn.” He jerked his hand back as she picked at the last layer of gauze.

  “Drink.” She waited as he raised the glass and took a swallow, grimacing. “More.” The remaining gauze was bloody and she worried about what was beneath. Hurrying to the sink, she ran some warm water in a pan and brought it back to the table. She gently lowered his hand into it and he hissed.

  When she looked up, he was staring at her. She thought that was better than him looking at the mess on his palm. “I’m sorry it hurts,” she said softly.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  She sucked in a breath, the words hanging in the air between them.

  “Cheyenne?”

  “Jake, don’t.” She bent her head to her work, blinking furiously to clear the tears so she could see his cut. She would think about what he said later. Not now. The water helped loosen the last of the gauze and she pulled it away. The gash was clean after the blood washed away, and although slightly pink, it didn’t appear swollen or infected. He lifted his hand out of the water and patted it dry while she found the disinfectant and more gauze. Neither said a word, but the air crackled with tension.

  She cleared away the mess and took the first aid kit back to the bathroom. When she returned, Jake was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the liquor bottle.

  Chapter 14

  Jake stayed on the back porch late into the night. He consumed a quantity of whiskey in the hope of drowning his sorrows, but he was still sober, which pissed him off so he drank even more. He had hoped his words would be an opening to get back in Cheyenne’s good graces, but she would have none of it. How was he to tell her how he felt if she wouldn’t listen? He laughed humorlessly. Right back at you, he thought, knowing he hadn’t given her the chance to explain either.

  An owl hooted and another answered. He heard sea gulls down by the dock and the gentle splash of waves as the tide came in. But nowhere in the darkness did he hear the answer to his question. The windows darkened behind him and he imagined her curled up in his bed and groaned. All his life, he had always gotten anything he wanted. If he hadn’t bought it himself, other people had given him gifts, priceless and beautiful things that held no real value to him.

  Now, the only thing he wanted, which was both beautiful and priceless, was slipping through his fingers and all his money, all his fame, could not keep that from happening. He looked into the inky night and a shooting star crossed the sky. He squeezed his eyes shut and repeated the childish wishing rhyme, ending with his wish. “I wish for one more chance to make it right.”

  * * *

  Jake woke the next morning as the door clicked quietly closed. He panicked as he hurried to the front door, thinking Cheyenne had snuck out before he had a chance to talk to her. Opening it quickly he looked all around but didn’t see her.

  Racing around the side of the house barefoot, his gaze shot to the dock and he stopped, sucking in a deep breath. She stood silhouetted against the sunrise, looking out to sea. Thank God she hadn’t left. Even as small as Lockabee was, he knew she could disappear faster than he could find her. As he walked down the grassy slope, she picked up a small stone, flicked her wrist and threw it across the water. It dropped into the bay with a single plop. As he watched, she picked up another and tried again. The same thing happened.

  “You have to flick your wrist just right,” he said as he came up behind her. She turned swiftly and her eyes opened with surprise. “Here, let me show you.”

  He turned her back to face the water and stepped close behind her. Curling one arm around her waist, he took her other hand and stretched it out, showing her how to bring it around and flick it at the last moment. Her stone went skipping across the water. She laughed. She had a rock in her other hand and now transferred it.

  “Again.”

  “You can do it yourself. Just like you have all your life, Cheyenne.”

  Instead of throwing the rock, she turned in his arm. “Jake?”

  He wrapped his other arm around her. “Shhhh. Listen to me. I was wrong, so wrong and I owe you the deepest of apologies.”

  She was shaking her head. “No. I shouldn’t have asked you to go home. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  “You were doing your job.”

  “No. Nothing that has happened between you and me was about my job. Please believe that.”

  And he did. Swinging her around, he sank with her to the sand. Her kiss was wild and hungry and he answered her in kind. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she held him close. When he finally came up for air, he saw tears in her eyes.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “I watched you out the window last night, in the dark, and I saw a shooting star so I made a wish. It just came true.”

  He laughed, truly laughed for the first time in days. Dragging her to her feet, he pulled her up the grass.

  “Where are we going?”

  “There’s no sense making love to you on the sand when we have a perfectly good bed in the cottage.”

  They never made it to the bed, at least not until later. The minute they were inside the door, he pulled her to a stop and tugged her shirt over her head. Her hands were frantic on him as she jerked down his shorts. She clung to him as he kissed her, his hands removing the rest of her clothes.

  He groaned when they came together, her skin soft and hot against his. Hands roamed freely down her back and along her hips as he backed her cautiously across the room. It didn’t matter that he misjudged the doorway and they bumped into the wall. She lifted a leg to wrap around his hips and he was lost.

  Palming her fanny, he lifted her. She slid a hand between them and closed it around his erection, guiding him to her. He pushed up, impaling her, and she lifted her other leg to lock them behind his waist.

  Her fingers dug into his back. He nipped at the side of her neck and she threw her head back, silently urging him to further exploration. All the while, his hips pumped against hers.

  “Faster,” she ordered and it made him smile.

  Instead of complying, he slowed his rhythm, watching her face as she became aware. Her heels pushed against the small of his back.

  “Maybe I’m not ready for capriccio,” he whispered against her lips. “I want the entire sonata and it must be in harmony.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty.” She kissed him, her mouth hot and sweet against his and all the while he moved inside her.

  Then her mouth was on his neck, sucking, biting.

  “Jake, I’m begging you, please.”

  He pushed deep inside her, once, then again. She closed her eyes, pleasure racing across her features. He varied his rhythm until he couldn’t have held back if the world stopped. And his gaze never left her. He knew the instant she was close, not from the tightening of her muscles around him but from the way her lips began to curve into a smile.

  “You…are…so…beautiful,” he breathed the words with each thrust of his hips. And then he couldn’t speak at all as she climaxed around him and he hit the peak with her and flew over.

  * * *

  Cheyenne couldn’t catch her breath and she could barely hold on as Jake kept her pressed against the wall. She dropped her head to his shoulder as the last tremors faded away.

  “Never, ever in my life,” she started but couldn’t form a thought.

  He kissed her ear and nibbled the lobe. “Me, too.”

  She started to unlock her legs but he griped her fanny tighter. “Don’t move, not yet.”

  “You can’t hold me up forever.”

  “I can try.”

  The mood was ruined when her stomach growled loud enough to be heard in town.

  It made him laugh, which caused funny little tingles in her nether regions. She squeezed her inner muscles and he groaned.

  “So unfair.” He swatted her butt lightly and allowed her to slowly slide her feet to the floor. “I’d better feed you. I wouldn’t want you to faint on me the next time.” He left her and she leaned against the wall to watch him. He
was music in motion, muscles tightening and relaxing. She almost smacked her lips as he bent to pick up pieces of clothing. What a fine butt he had.

  He fixed them soup and ham sandwiches, then took her to bed. This time his lovemaking was slow and sensual, making her entire body ache with longing before he finished with her. She curled sleepily against his chest, his hand rubbing lazy circles on her back.

  She fingered the bandage on his injured hand and he wiggled his fingers.

  “Don’t worry; they work.” Though he tried to sound lighthearted, she sensed otherwise. Lifting her head, she saw him frown before his face cleared. “It’ll be alright, Cat. I promise.” He pushed her head back to his chest.

  She fell asleep wondering what exactly would be all right—his hand, his relationship with his uncle, or his relationship with her. She sincerely hoped it wasn’t one or the other.

  * * *

  “Cheyenne! Jake!” Pounding on the door woke her and she jerked upright.

  “Oh, no. I forgot about Lindsay.” She scrambled to untangle the sheets as Jake swung his feet to the floor and grabbed his shorts.

  “What’s she doing out here?” he asked.

  “I called her this morning,” Cheyenne said, then hesitantly added, “to come and get me.”

  Jake shot her a look, but was surprisingly calm when he said, “Stay here. I’ll talk to her.”

  She sat huddled on the bed, listening to murmured voices past the partly open door. Within minutes, he was back. He stopped just inside the door, his gaze hot and fierce. He stalked toward her, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his shorts and dropping them to the floor. He started crawling up the bed and she scooted back.

  “What did you tell her?”