I'll Be There

by Deborah Grace Staley

  “A little honey?”

  He went to the pantry to get the honey, and spooned it onto the bread when it was ready. He placed the plate and juice in front of her, then went into the living room, got an afghan, brought it back and tucked it around her stunning legs.

  “Thanks.”

  She nibbled on the toast and drank most of the juice. When she’d gotten one triangle down, she pushed the plate aside. “I can’t eat any more.”

  He nodded, trying not to watch as she licked the sticky honey off her fingers. “Would you like to go back to bed now? Or maybe you’d like to lie on the couch and look out at the meadow.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  He took her elbow and helped her stand. She deliberately stepped away from his touch and preceded him into the adjacent room with the blanket thrown over her arm and trailing behind her. He followed closely, looking for any signs of weakness. He didn’t want her falling and injuring herself.

  “Wow.” She stopped moving when she got a look at the view from the windows. “I’ve never seen so much snow. It’s really coming down.”

  “It started yesterday afternoon.”

  “How much is there?”

  “At least a foot. Maybe more.”

  “Really?”

  She walked over to the window, touched her fingertips to the glass. “Is it very cold?”

  “About thirty degrees.”

  “Beautiful,” she breathed.

  “Come away from the window. You’ll still be able to see from the couch.”

  “And no one will be able to see me from there?”

  “Right.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled. She looked over her shoulder at the couch as if it were too far away. Cord slipped an arm around her waist. She leaned heavily against him as they walked back across the room.

  “Sorry. I’m just a little weak.”

  “You’ve been pretty sick.” He piled up pillows at the end of the sofa. She lay back against them pulling the afghan up around her. “Can I get you another blanket?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Cord went back to the kitchen and fixed her another drink. When he returned to the living room, she was sound asleep. He set the drink on a nearby table within easy reach, then went to the bedroom, and stripped the sheets from the bed. After he’d put on fresh ones, he took the others to kitchen and put them in a plastic bag.

  Relief settled over him now that she seemed better. He just hoped her temperature would come down and that there wouldn’t be any further complications. Then he could get her up to his cabin.

  Chapter 10

  Jenny woke feeling much better. A heavenly smell coming from the kitchen made her stomach growl. Upon investigation, she found Cord at the stove stirring something in a large pot. Steam curled out of it carrying the savory aroma. Jenny’s stomach growled again. Darkening shadows outside the window meant it must be late.

  “That smells wonderful.”

  Cord turned. He seemed surprised to see her standing there. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “It’s hard to make noise when you’re shuffling around in over-sized socks.” She wiggled her toes, drawing his attention to her feet, but also unintentionally to her bare legs, which he clearly liked looking at.

  His gaze returned slowly to hers. “How do you feel?”

  She licked her dry lips. “Hungry.”

  “It should be ready soon. Have a seat and I’ll give you some bread.”

  He bent to open the oven and remove a pan of cornbread, but she said, “I think I’ll freshen up first.”

  “Sure.” He closed the oven door and put the lid back on the pot. “Do you need help?”

  Tempting. Very tempting. He was wearing dark jeans and a dark green flannel shirt, again with just the middle buttons fastened. Jenny chewed on her lower lip. “I’m afraid I don’t remember where the bathroom is.” She wondered that she could remember her name while she was in the same room with this man. It wasn’t just that he was handsome and sinfully sexy. Something about him drew her to him. Compelling. Yes, that was it. He was compelling and mysterious, reminding Jenny that she’d just begun unraveling the mystery of him when she’d gotten ill.

  He joined her at the doorway to the kitchen. She pressed her back to the doorframe when he came closer. An exotic scent clung to his skin, teasing her nose. He lifted a hand to her cheek. She shivered. His touch combined with his nearness did all manner of wild things to her weakened system.

  “I think your fever is down.”

  Really? Heat, that had nothing to do with her fever, spread from the top of her head all the way to her toes. She made an effort to not let her disappointment show when he shoved his hands into the pockets of his snug-fitting jeans.

  “The bathroom’s just over there, by the bedroom. Your clothes are on the counter.”

  Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

  “There are towels and washcloths on the shelf over the toilet. If you need anything or if you start to feel ill and need help, just call. I’ll be nearby.”

  Jenny somehow got herself to the bathroom and closed the door, but his promise to be close by resulted in myriad images of her naked in the shower and him coming to join her. She put a hand to her head. She must still be delirious. A fuzzy memory intruded of gentle hands caring for her last night and this morning that left a tangle of warm feelings fluttering in her stomach. She’d never allowed anyone to take care of her, not even her mother. She’d preferred her sister when she was sick. And now—no, she wouldn’t go there, not unless she wanted to burst into tears, and she refused to cry right now.

  She used the bathroom, then stripped out of Cord’s flannel shirt. She was naked beneath it save her panties, which meant he must have gotten her that way. “Holy...” She squeezed her eyes shut. This was doing nothing to get her wayward thoughts under control!

  The shower would be quicker, but the tub looked so inviting. Her stomach rumbled its preference. She grabbed a towel, turned on the taps in the shower, adjusted the temperature and stepped inside. The spray of water felt like a warm, gentle rain trickling over her skin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the luxury of a leisurely shower.

  “What are you doing?”

  Jenny gasped and instinctively covered herself even though a shower curtain separated them. She wiped the water out of her eyes and stated the obvious. “I’m taking a shower.”

  “Not a good idea.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She really should have checked the lock on the bathroom door.

  “You’re sick and weak. What if you fall?”

  “I’ll call for you.”

  “Not if you hit your head or pass out.”

  “I’m fine, really.” She grabbed the soap and rubbed it between her palms. Cord hadn’t budged. He was vigilant. A characteristic she’d become overly acquainted with since she’d been in protective custody.

  “If I’m not out in ten minutes, you can come back and check on me.”

  Jenny started soaping her skin and singing a popular top forty tune. To his credit, Cord stayed put even though her singing was loud and painfully off-key. She sang louder, despite the fact that it was torture on her sore, dry throat.

  After she finished lathering her body, she looked at her legs. She’d kill for a razor. If she asked for one, Cord would probably be afraid she’d require suturing afterward.

  She stepped under the spray, then lathered her hair and rinsed the soap out. Short hair would be so much easier, but if she cut it, she’d need to color it. She sighed. A couple of hours at the salon, make that three to add a massage, sounded like heaven right now.

  If she went back to her natural color, she’d look more like Frannie. Despite the three-year difference in their age, everyone had always thought they were twins. Again, she wondered about her sister. Had she spent any time in Angel Ridge at Jenny’s house?

  Probably not. It might be too hard for Frannie to be around her things. Eve
n though they’d been close, they were very different. Jenny had been the strong one and Frannie was the nurturer. She had such a soft heart. Jenny closed her eyes. She had to focus on living her life without Frannie, but her sister had been the only true, deep emotional connection she’d ever allowed herself. That loss was nearly more than she could bear.

  Trying to force thoughts of her family away, she refocused on finishing her shower. If she spent a moment too long in here, Cord, who still stood sentinel in the bathroom, would probably pull back the curtain and haul her out, naked and dripping onto the faded vinyl floor. Delicious as that fantasy might seem, it would not become a reality. She reluctantly turned off the taps.

  She pulled the towel down from the shower rod and dried herself. Maybe he’d stepped into the bedroom to allow her some privacy, but just in case, she wrapped up in the oversized towel before she stepped out.

  No such luck. Cord stood there, his arms crossed. His face must be thunder, because lightening flew from his eyes. She pulled the towel closer around her. “Did you need something?”

  He stared at her for a moment, then took her arm and helped her out of the tub. As soon as she stood securely on the cold floor, he left the room, closing the door with a decisive click. The man definitely had control issues.

  She put her bra on, trying not to imagine him taking it as well as her t-shirt and sweatpants off. She dressed in his shirt and her sweatpants, then picked up her panties and rinsed them in the sink. After she’d squeezed out the excess water, she hung them in the shower. Jenny wiped off a circle on the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair. Man, her mouth tasted like a garbage disposal.

  “Cord?”

  He was in the bathroom instantly. Jenny smiled. “Do you have an extra toothbrush and maybe some deodorant?”

  “I put them there on the shelf.”

  “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t see them.”

  “They were in the things Grady picked up yesterday.”

  She nodded and squeezed paste onto the toothbrush.

  “Are you all right?”

  “A little tired, but fine. I’ll just brush my teeth, then join you in the kitchen.”

  Cord nodded and left the room. The man was not much of a conversationalist. She moistened the toothbrush and began brushing.

  What did she expect? He lived like a hermit in the middle of absolute nowhere. The only time he probably had to use his voice was when he went into town to shop. Heck, he’d probably found a way around talking even then. Again, she was struck by how much he reminded her of the marshals who’d been dragging her from one non-descript location to another these past months.

  Those men had refused to talk to her, too. She began spinning scenarios in her mind. It was a means of amusing herself and ignoring the pitiful state of what had become her life. She’d come up with a theory on who he was, where he’d come from, and why he’d shut himself off from the world. Why his eyes were shuttered, empty and cold. Lifeless. Yes, better to focus on these things instead of his body, which was incredible, and his lips, which looked soft and warm...

  Shaking her head, she emerged from the bathroom. “Is supper ready?”

  Cord sat on the sofa, but stood to face her. “You’ve certainly made a rapid recovery. This morning, I thought...”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. I’ll get you some soup.”

  He walked over to the kitchen, and Jenny noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes as she followed. Was there anything sexier than a gorgeous, barefoot man in the kitchen cooking?

  Focus on solving the mystery, Jenny. “It was probably just a virus.”

  Cord ladled soup into deep bowls, then piled rolls and cornbread onto a plate. “Where would you catch a virus?”

  “Who knows? Maybe I got it from one of the marshals.”

  Cord sat and Jenny wasted no time on the food. She spooned some into her mouth. Chicken in a pale broth with chunky vegetables. “This is delicious. But I suppose you’d have to become a good cook to survive the way you do all alone out in the middle of nowhere.” Speaking of... “So, tell me. What drives a man to build a cabin on a remote mountain?”

  She got a look and a terse command to “Just eat.”

  “Is it that you’re not much on talking or that you just aren’t used to the sound of another’s person’s voice?”

  The look again.

  Not deterred, Jenny asked, “How long have you been up there anyway?”

  “You don’t need to know anything about me.”

  “It looks like we’re going to be stuck here for awhile. I thought it might be nice if we could at least carry on a civil conversation.”

  “There’s a difference between having a conversation and you trying to get me to divulge personal information, which by the way, is off limits.”

  “That’s a pretty good vocabulary you have. Not many people from the mountains around here talk like that.”

  “Think what you will.”

  “I usually do.” She took a breath. He definitely knew how to push her buttons. Sure it was a tactical move to get her angry so she wouldn’t want to talk to him, but she was determined to not let him get to her. “I’m sure we have things in common.”

  “What would make you think that?”

  “You saved my life—there’s that.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  Jenny laughed. “And that’s actually a good thing, because I couldn’t give you anything even if I wanted to. I’ve got nothing. No money, no job, no life.”

  She watched him carefully. As a reporter, she’d been trained to notice even the most subtle changes in demeanor. Her statement seemed to make him a little uncomfortable. “You know, these past months, I’ve been in the company of more law enforcement officers that I can recount. They don’t talk either.”

  “So?”

  “So, if you don’t want to answer questions about yourself, I’ll have to just draw my own conclusions. Since you’re a lot like them, I’m figuring you used to be one.”

  He pushed the bread plate toward her. “More bread?”

  He was even more on guard after that statement. She’d likely hit the mark. “No, thanks. It’s delicious, but I’m full.” Still, she kept spooning the broth out of her soup and sipping it.

  He finished his soup and went for another bowl. “There’s a long history of Cherokee in this area. Are you descended from them?”

  “No.”

  A response! Encouraged, she said, “But you are Native American, right?”

  He sat and concentrated on his soup.

  “Did you grow up in Cherokee, North Carolina?” she asked, before lifting the spoon to her mouth.

  “Again with the two questions at once. I guess you still don’t like me.”

  She smiled. He remembered, but didn’t answer her question.

  After a few moments passed, he looked up and said, “I’m here to make sure that you’re safe until you’re moved to another temporary location or testify, whichever comes first. Until then—”

  “Until then, we’re going to be alone together for awhile with nothing to do but talk.” Big mistake. As soon as she said it, she immediately thought of several things they could do without talking.

  “I’ll find a way to keep out of your way. You can do the same—”

  “It’s a small house.”

  “It’s best if we don’t form any sort of attachment that will inevitably be broken.”

  Jenny held up a hand. “Just to clarify, do you think that I may form an attachment to you, or that you may form an attachment to me?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Hell, yes it matters. Are you going to sit there and tell me that you think simply having a conversation is enough for two people to form an attachment to one another?” She smiled and added, “I do think you overestimate your charm, sir.”

  He threw her off-balance by smiling as well. “That’s not what you were saying last night.”

  Trying to seem unaffect
ed, she threw back, “A gentleman would never hold what a woman says in the throes of a fever against her.”

  He leaned closer and said softly, “Who said I was a gentleman?”

  Jenny leaned back and blinked to clear the fog. Wait. Was he...”Are you teasing me?” She almost couldn’t get the word out, the possibility seemed so implausible.

  “About what you said and did when you were delirious? No, I’m not kidding. You were quite...” he rubbed his chin, searching for the right word, “uninhibited, not to mention demanding.”

  “Okay, stop. That may work with some of the less gullible women you’ve had to deal with, but I didn’t just roll into town. You’re trying to distract me from following my line of questioning about your background.”

  He looked up from his soup, but didn’t comment. Just went back to eating. She smiled to herself. A worthy adversary. Excellent. Let the games begin.

  “Back to your supposition. You think the Stockholm principle applies here, but I’m not your captive.”

  “Of course you are. You’re here against your will.”

  “That aside, there’s no way I would fall for you. On the other hand, I happen to know that men find me irresistible.” She wasn’t above a little teasing herself.

  He looked back at her, surprised, and possibly amused, when she made that pronouncement.

  “I noticed you checking out my legs, Mr. Goins.” She sighed, turned in her chair and crossed her legs, then crossed her arms and took a drink of her ginger ale. “Yeah, it’s a nuisance, guys falling at my feet. I can’t tell you how many shoes I’ve wrecked. So, no worries. I’m used to it.” She set her glass back on the table. “If you’re not Cherokee, what tribe then?”

  He gave her another of his looks, stood and took his dish to the sink.

  “Why don’t I just spin a theory? I’d say one parent wasn’t from around here, your mom, and she was the one with Native American heritage. Or maybe you get your coloring from your father. He would have been from East Tennessee, but not from Angel Ridge. ‘Goins’ is a Melungeon name. There were a few colonies of them just east of here.” She propped a foot on her chair and trailed a hand down her leg, still not looking at him. “Of course, Melungeons were often mistaken for Native Americans because of the similarities in coloring. However, researchers have found they were actually of Portuguese descent.”