Perhaps it was too soon for her to get out among people again. It would be fun being with kids though and hearing their excited little voices. "I used to love to fish when I was a kid. It sounds like fun. I'd love to go and help out."
Gene's smile lit up the room. “Wonderful. I’ll pick you up bright an early tomorrow, around seven."
"Seven? In the morning?"
"Oh, come on Princess. That's when the tournament starts."
Ellen groaned and Gene laughed.
Squealing, excited children ran wild up and down the shore of the sprawling mountain lake. The sun was blistering hot as sweat bees swarmed. There was virtually no breeze on this balmy fall day. The calm lake mirrored rainbow trees of red, yellow, and orange flame, it's smooth surface only shattered by squadrons of blue-green dragonflies. Leaves floated down to the silvery wetness where they became tiny colorful boats. The air smelled of a mixture of tiny fish lying too long in the sun and musty lakeshore mud. It was wonderful.
Groups of excited children sat with buckets in their laps as they proudly displayed their little fishy treasures. Cane poles and lines baited with slimy worms swung haphazardly thru the air accompanied with squeals of delight. Some of the kids were more interested in playing with the fish in the buckets than catching them in the lake.
Ellen was busy trying to untangle a fishhook from a little girl’s long braids. Gene sat with his back propped up against a tree taking in the whole scene. He watched Ellen wipe the sweat from her face. She had put her hair up in two cute ponytails and he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Just gazing at her made him feel like a brand new man. Many women had come and gone over the years but none were able to bring out these emotional feelings in himself he didn't even recognize. Ellen touched something deep inside him that was both ecstatic and terrifying. More and more Gene found excuses to be away from home, to be with her.
If only he wasn’t married to Martha, he could... Gene shook his head as if to clear it. He could what? Since when did being married make a difference? Gene couldn't remember a time in his married life when he wasn't cheating or thinking about it.
What was it about this classy, exquisite lady that intrigued him so? Ellen brought out a rare protective instinct. The feeling unnerved him. This emotion didn't fit with Gene's opinion of himself. He was tough, a fighter, always had been since he was a kid. Now he had some real power in the county and he knew he could be ruthless when necessary. But with Ellen, Gene felt a soft spot in his heart. Since when did it matter to him if a woman was grieving or vulnerable? He only knew that with Ellen it mattered and he wanted to see her happy. He wanted to be the reason she was happy.
The tingling and tightness in his groin reminded Gene of how badly he wanted her. The idea of having to wait for that pleasure was frustrating. There was no doubt in Gene's mind that she would come to him. Women always did. It was just a matter of time. Ellen Anderson was definitely worth waiting for.
Gene knew deep down that he was going to do everything in his power to get her intimately into his life. With Ellen he could see himself sharing a lifetime with her. Gene shook his head again. What little conscience he had began to torture him. Thoughts he didn't want to hear tormented him. You’re after her money, ole boy. “No, I'm not.”
“Did you say something?” Ellen turned and stared at him.
Gene felt his face suffuse with blood. He didn't realize he had spoken loud enough for her to hear. “Uh...I said no." He swatted at his head. "This damn fly is driving me nuts." Then he smiled and held his arms out. "Come over here. Are we having fun, yet?” He reached up to pull a leaf from her hair.
“Oh yes. I’m loving this. I'm so glad you got me come.” Ellen ran a fishy sleeve across her face then wrinkled her nose. “Yuk.”
Gene chuckled and took her arm. “Don’t do that, you’ll make it worse." Taking his kerchief, he began to dab at the smudges on her face as if she were a child. The closeness of her was making it hard for him to breathe. Suddenly embarrassed, Gene moved away from her. “Are you hungry? How about a sandwich and cold drink?”
“Sounds wonderful. I’m famished.”
Gene had a blanket laid out under a giant shade tree. Ellen looked down in amazement. “My goodness, you’ve got enough food here to feed an army.”
Gene shrugged. “I like to eat.”
“Yes, I can see that for myself.” There was fried chicken, potato salad, pickles, chips, sandwiches, even cake. "Did you actually prepare all this food yourself?"
"Of course I did."
"Then you must be some kind of cook."
"That's me."
Gene didn't miss the stares of some of the parents as he and Ellen shared the blanket. He knew no one would dare go to Martha.
After lunch, Ellen leaned back against the colossal trunk of an oak tree. It was so cool and peaceful here. She really hated to get back out in the sun. Gene settled himself next to her, close but not quiet touching.
They were comfortably silent. Ellen realized she enjoyed Gene's company perhaps more than she wanted to. Guilt tore at her. It was barely four months. Touching Mark's ring, Ellen still considered herself very married. She shouldn’t be feeling this happy in the company of a man, even if it was innocent. Ellen gazed at her diamond wedding ring hugging Mark's gold band on her finger. What was her problem? Why couldn’t she accept being alone and grieve like a normal widow? Was it really so bad to want to be with a nice man who made her laugh and showered her with attention?
With lowered lashes Ellen glanced over at Gene. His fishing hat was pulled down over his face. She could hear his even breathing signaling that he was asleep. Gene was harmless, she reasoned. This definitely was not a romantic thing. She had no reason to feel guilty. He even fell asleep sitting next to her. Now, just how exciting can she be to him?
“Hey,” she nudged him. “If I can’t sleep, nobody sleeps. I think we’re supposed to be helping these kids fish, aren’t we? You've been holding this tree up long enough. I'm doing a lot more work than you are, lazy goof off.”
“Huh?” Gene looked around. “Oh yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to doze off like that."
"Well, get up off your lazy butt and help these kids with their poles and fishing." She started to stand up.
"Don't go yet. Stay and talk to me for awhile. Those kids don't need our help."
Ellen looked around. There seemed to be plenty of parents with the kids. Maybe she wasn't needed. It didn't take much persuasion to keep her sitting in the shade. With her back against the tree trunk, Ellen looked at Gene. He came into her life at a very tragic moment and what they had together has blossomed into a beautiful friendship. How much did she really know about this man? He talked about his childhood, but what about his personal life? Was he married? Divorced? Did he have children? He certainly seemed to have a lot of spare time. Perhaps he was divorced and alone just like herself.
Gene smiled at her. "I like it when you look at me like that."
Ellen's felt her face grow hot. "Like what? You're crazy. I'm not going to sit here and listen to babble."
She started to move away but once more he reached out to stop her. "Okay, I quit, if the princess can't take a joke." He shrugged taking a sip of his coke.
"Oh, you." She slapped at him. Looking out over the lake Ellen pondered her next question to him. She was curious about him now. Did he have a wife? Would it matter to her if he did? No of course it wouldn't matter. They're friends, nothing more, nothing less but it would still be nice to know.
"Are you married, Gene?" The words came tumbling out like a bag of spilled beans. She turned to look at him when a sudden fit of coughing nearly threatened to close his throat. A spray of coke sloshed down his shirt.
"You don't mince words, Lady. No woman could ever put up with me."
"Well even if you are it doesn't matter. I was just curious. So if you're still breathing over there, is that a yes, no, or plead the fifth?"
"Well, let me see." Gene sc
ratched his head pretending to be in deep concentration. He started counting on his fingers. "I've been through four, no five wives. Would you like to be number six?" He raised his eyebrows enticingly.
"Not on your life, Casanova." She laughed. "Gene, you're right, no woman could put up with you." Ellen came to her feet and looked down at him. "Feel free to hold up that tree for as long as you like. I'm going fishing. Bye."
Ellen walked toward a group of kids with fishing poles. She didn't look back and missed the strange look that crossed Gene's features.
The afternoon went by swiftly. Ellen stayed busy on the front lines, getting slimy wiggling tiny fish off hooks, baiting lines, and untangling hooks from shirts, hair, and britches. She was having a ball and so glad Gene had talked her into coming today.
Gene's calls continued to come on a daily basis but there was a subtle difference in their friendship now. They were careful to skirt personal issues keeping to friendly, benign topics like the weather, and community happenings. Ellen could sense an emotion in Gene that made her uneasy. Sometimes she would catch him watching her. The look in his eyes was anything but platonic. Ellen was torn between wanting his companionship and fleeing from a romantic encounter.
Late at night Ellen's natural desires would bubble to the surface. She wanted to be held and touched and kissed. Ellen and Mark shared a lusty sex life. Her throbbing body reminded her of how much she missed this natural aspect of life. She wondered how it would feel to be kissed by Gene. Then her guilt would censor any further musings.
Perhaps someday she would welcome a man's warmth and closeness but not yet. Mark's presence in her heart was still all consuming. She could only hope Gene would have patience with her. If it was meant to be, he would wait.
On this particular morning Gene showed up with a backpack. "You brought breakfast?" Ellen eyed the pack.
He held it up. "This is lunch. I thought you might enjoy seeing some local trails around here that have really spectacular views. Are you up for a hike, Princess?"
Ellen stared at him. She would enjoy going for a hike, but being alone with Gene in the forest didn't sound like a good idea. When he came over Juanita was always present. That night at the crash site and afterwards was the only time it was just the two of them. Trying to explain that to Gene would be mortally embarrassing. Might as well say outright she doesn't trust him. Or maybe it's herself she doesn't trust. Why did life have to be so complicated?
"Sounds like fun. I'll get my camera."
They left the highway and drove up into the hills for a long time. Ellen assumed Gene knew where he was going but where ever it was, they were extremely high up. He followed narrow, gravel roads higher and higher until they became little more than rocky paths. Ellen took careful note of where they were going so she could find this trail again on her own. She had better trust him at this point because they were certainly isolated now.
When Gene finally pulled his truck over and stopped, Ellen looked around. They were so high that misty clouds surrounded them. Ellen got out and inhaled the pungent fall air. The frosty nip at this altitude had her reaching for her windbreaker. There was a rare tranquility up here. Except for the guilt of being with Gene, her mind was slowly relaxing. The fall trees created a wonderland of red, yellow, and bronze. They were perched on a mountain peak, one of the highest in the National Park.
"Gosh Gene, you did say a hike and not a road trip right?"
He laughed. "I should've warned you the hike I had in mind is a bit out of the way."
"It’s so beautiful here. Where did you find this spot?”
“This is my secret place. I always come here when I want to get away from things and be alone. I feel powerful up here like I'm standing on top of the world.”
“Yes, I can see how you would feel that way.”
She looked around at the panorama of purple green mountain peaks. They were so high the wind whipped at her hair and clothes. The surrounding mountain peaks looked like thousands of miniature, cloud kissed castles.
"I didn’t have a place like this to run away to when I was young. Living in Mississippi was totally flat, but I did have a nice, muddy river to sit next to. You were lucky to grow up here.”
“I know. Walk with me. I'd like to show you something."
"Up here?"
"Sure, it's right through the trees over here."
They hiked the few steps to the crest of the bluff as a chilly wind whipped at her hair. Then Ellen saw it. There, nestled among the tall pines sat a quaint log cabin.
"Does somebody live here?"
"Yeah, I do when I feel like getting away from everything."
"This property is yours?"
"It is and I wanted you to see it because it's so special to me."
Ellen felt touched. "How long have you had this land?"
"I inherited it. My great grand pappy built this cabin for his new bride around the turn of the century. My grandfather was born here right in this cabin. I'm lucky it stayed in the family."
"Is this where the moonshine was made?"
"Absolutely, come on, I'll show you." Gene led her around the side of the dwelling. "This is where three generations of Stones made corn whiskey. Best white lightning you could buy in these parts."
Ellen saw rusted, coiled pipes connected to a large metal container. Weeds were slowly devouring the contraption.
"So that was no tall tale about you running illegal whiskey when you were a teen."
"All true and this is where we made it."
"Do you make any today?"
"Gosh no, it’s too much trouble. I'm on the other side of the law now."
"Ah yes, here we have the good, upstanding sheriff of Cedar Grove, Tennessee."
"That's me. Three generations were born in this cabin. I was the last. I lived here when I was small, until my folks quit making moonshine and decided to go straight with the law. Now it’s my secret haven. This is where I come when I need to get away and think. I’ve never brought anybody here until now. I wanted to share this with you, Ellen.”
They walked up the steps to the front porch. An old fashioned swing hung on the far side. The front door creaked open as Gene unlocked it. The inside smelled of cedar and pungent wood smoke where a crackling fire had burned recently in the stone fireplace. There was an antique sofa with colorful Afghans spread over the back. Ellen was impressed. The cabin looked lived in. Gene must come here often, she thought. It was clean and had all the comforts of home.
The head of a six point buck stared at her with its glass eyes from a perch on the wall over the fireplace. She pointed to the deer. “A former friend of yours?”
Gene chuckled. “Yeah, sort of. I bagged him four years ago. He had come up right in the yard over there.” He pointed out the front window. "Kept the department in venison for quite awhile. Look around, make yourself at home.”
Ellen began wandering around the cabin while Gene put away food supplies from his backpack. From an adjacent door she saw the bedroom. The large brass bed looked like something out of the nineteenth century. Apparently this was where all the Stone children were birthed. The fluffy pillows and early American spread matched the pleated window curtains.
Suddenly a feeling of unease washed over her. Ellen had the wildest urge to run out of the cabin and as far away from this place as she could. What on earth was she doing here on an isolated mountain peak with this man? Good God, she had to be nuts.
Gene must've sensed her panic. Handing her a sandwich he said, "Let's go sit outside on the front porch swing."
They dined on ham sandwiches and potato chips while enjoying the panorama of the Great Smoky Mountains in all its autumn glory. Gene reminisced about his childhood growing up on this mountain top. Ellen listened to him, feeling at peace. She realized her growing attachment to Gene was something that started on that fateful night he took her to witness Mark's burned out plane.
Now with only four months since her husband's death, Ellen felt desire for Gene. Wh
en his warm fingers began to caress her neck, she didn't move away. Pulling her close, Ellen snuggled into his chest lulled by his steady heartbeat. She was enjoying the closeness.
The rickety ancient swing rocked slowly until the rusted chain could no longer support their weight. As Gene and Ellen found themselves unceremoniously dumped on the wooden floor, they laughed until tears streamed. "How old was that chain?" said Ellen between hoots of laughter.
"I think it came with the house."
When the laughter died down they continued to lie on the floor facing each other. Gene's hand came up to stroke her face.
"I love you, Ellen." She opened her mouth but no words came out. "I don't expect a response. I just want you to know how I feel."
Gene's lips met hers with a fervor invoking a response that had her head spinning with sexual arousal. It felt wrong. It was too soon, but Ellen couldn't stop so great was her need. Her arms came around his neck as they lay in each other's arms amid the broken chains on the porch.
Her conscience condemned but Ellen's body was too starved. She wanted this man and she wanted him now.
It was Gene who broke the contact only long enough to sweep Ellen off the porch floor and into his arms. Once again Ellen tried to stop the inevitable but all she could do was cling to Gene as he walked to the bedroom and laid her on the printed spread.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Her breathing was coming in gasps as Ellen felt her clothes being peeled away. Why couldn't she stop this betrayal of Mark's memory? It wasn't until she felt Gene's rigid nakedness against her that something snapped. Ellen didn't realize she was crying until she felt cool air on her skin. Gene had moved away and was looking at her.
"You aren't ready for this, are you?"
"I thought I was. I wanted to," she sobbed.
"It's okay, don't cry." He wrapped the sheet around her nakedness and pulled her into his arms. "You're worth waiting for, Princess, believe me. I meant what I said. I love you and I will wait for you."
LETHAL OBSESSION Page 5