by Norah Wilson
He ducked back into the cave with his armload of wood. Somehow, he’d expected her to be right there to meet him. For a brief, panicked moment, he thought she’d taken off again, but then he spied her. She was inside his sleeping bag, but curled up in such a tight, tiny ball, he hadn’t even seen her. The canteen and the untouched rations lay on the cave floor beside her. He glanced toward the fire, his mouth going dry at the sight of her jeans and flannel shirt pinned with the drying stick while her coat lay spread on the cave floor. Well, that explained why she’d taken refuge in the warmth of the sleeping bag.
He put the wood down near the fire as quietly as he could in case she was sleeping. After spreading the sticks out to dry, he took his rain poncho off, shook the droplets off it and spread it out too.
He then turned to examine the clothing more closely. The thermal underwear she’d been wearing was not there. She must have kept that on for modesty’s sake. Without the other layers, it would dry quickly enough from her body heat. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
He put a sizeable stick on the fire and went over to the bedroll. As he’d suspected, she was fast asleep. Her face looked so different in its relaxed state.
He loved that about her face, that it was never entirely in stillness. Not that he’d had much occasion to observe her. Until yesterday, there had been just those few times he’d seen her when she’d come home for a week at Christmas. But even in those short visits, he’d noticed that whatever she was thinking and feeling seemed to flicker across her face, producing a dozen micro-expressions.
Some were easy to decipher—she still liked what she saw when she looked at him.
Some were less easy to read.
She sighed in her sleep. Yearning rose up in him, sudden and sharp. He wished he could lift the sleeping bag and slip in beside her, pull her close, breathe the scent of her hair while she slept. Keep her warm. But that wasn’t going to happen. Well, okay, some form of contact was going to happen. They would have to buddy up for warmth. But not before they’d talked.
As he stared at her, thunder rumbled low outside.
He should check in with Scott, he supposed. Digging out the sat phone, he made the call.
“Hey, Scott. Going crazy down there yet?”
“Getting a little restless, yeah. I hope you’re pretty much down the mountain. It’s really coming down out there.”
“Actually, I’m holed up at Crooked Man’s Cave.”
“Christ, that far up? With Ocean?”
“No, with Scarlett Johansson.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course, with Ocean.”
“How’d that happen?”
“She’s determined to climb White Crow, and won’t come down with me until she’s given it a try, so here we are.” Deliberately, he omitted mention of her giving him the slip this morning. He’d never hear the end of it if Scott knew.
“Jesus, I hope you don’t expect me to call Faye and tell her that. This gig doesn’t pay well enough for that kind of hazard.”
Titus grinned at Scott’s horrified tone. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you’d like to take up the conversation where you left off. You know, suggesting to that worried mother that there was something going on between her daughter and me up here.”
“Hey, I never said that!” He denied. “Well, not outright.”
“Gee, thanks. I’m sure I can find a way to return the favor.”
“Actually, that’s kind of a good reason to call her yourself,” Scott said, his voice brightening. “You know, clear up the confusion.”
What a wimp. “No worries. Ocean called her mom the minute we got to shelter. Mrs. Siliker’s not thrilled, but she understands this is no weather to be out and about in, let alone descending a mountain.”
“What about Uncle Arden? Have you phoned him yet to tell him?”
“Not yet. In fact, why don’t you do it?” Knowing Scott, he was probably bored as hell. It would give him something to do. “Hell, why don’t you go home until morning? Ember must be back by now, and with me and Ocean staying put until tomorrow, there’s no reason to hang around that parking lot.”
“Um…about Ember.”
Worry leapt to life in his belly. “What? She’s still not back?”
“She says she’s staying with the patient a while longer.”
Dammit. Since when did a sprained ankle warrant this much attention? “I don’t like it.”
“You think I do?” Scott snapped.
Titus let that hang there a moment. “Who is this mysterious patient anyway?”
“She won’t say. Patient confidentiality.” Titus heard the frustration in Scott’s voice. “For what it’s worth, I did manage to have a short conversation with her on the phone. She gave the right answer when I put the question to her. Which means she’s not in danger and is staying there voluntarily.”
Titus knew just what question Scott was referring to: A penny for your thoughts? And Ember’s response must have been Make it ten bucks and you’ve got a deal. They’d been using that code since junior high. Still, it was damned weird.
“Well, that’s something anyway,” he said. “She gave you the code words.”
“Yeah, but she also said something else.”
Titus stilled. “What’s that?”
“She said tell Titus not to freak out.”
“What?”
“I know. Because what the hell do you do when someone says don’t freak out? You freak the hell out.”
“What’d she mean? What was she talking about?”
“I don’t know. She hung up on that note and now she’s not answering.”
Titus sucked in a deep breath, exhaled. “I’m going to call her.”
“Good luck with that. She’ll just let your call go into voice mail.”
Titus sighed. If she was giving Scott the voice mail treatment, there was no way his call was getting through. He pushed his worry down. Ember was a big girl. A resourceful woman. “Okay. I guess there’s not much we can do. But she’s not going to tramp out in this weather. It’s not fit for a duck out there. Which means you could still go home and crash for a while.”
“I might go clean up at some point, but I won’t stay away long.”
Titus was relieved to hear Scott’s words, but damn, the boy must be going crazy. “I really am sorry to have stuck you with this job.”
“I’ve got a book. Which, if I might mention, you’re currently keeping me from. Say goodbye already.”
Titus appreciated Scott’s effort. Not that his brother didn’t enjoy reading. Margaret Standish had seen to that, as she had for Titus and Ember. But in Scott’s case, if it came down to a choice between reading or being in motion, the book always came a sorry second.
He smiled. “Goodbye already.”
“Bye.”
The line went dead and he put the phone back in his pocket.
Don’t freak out. Dammit, Ember! What was she up to?
Well, nothing he could do about it from here. Or anywhere, he supposed. She would do whatever it was she planned to do, and he’d have to trust her judgment.
He turned and his eyes fell on his pack a few feet away. Bending, he dug out the now tattered manuscript. Because Ocean was curled up so tightly, he had lots of room at the bottom of the bedroll.
The ass of his jeans was somewhat drier now, but not dry enough. He fetched the poncho, turned it inside out and folded it to protect the bedroll. Then he sat down, braced his back against the wall, angled the manuscript toward the light from the fire, and examined the cover page. Judging Kate by Ocean Siliker.
Flipping the page, he started to read.
Hours later, he’d almost finished it—both Ocean’s play and the critique of this Roz person, who’d filled the margins with her bright red slashes calling for real emotion.
He was no student of literature. More of a genre fiction guy. Give him a police procedural or a whodunit and he was happy. He was certainly not equipped to judge a play, p
articularly one as woman-centric as this. But he was left with the sinking sense that Roz was right.
The story was good, but it could have been so much better. There was a feeling of holding back, of going to the edge and no further. He turned the page. Maybe it would pick up at the end.
“I can’t believe you’re reading that.”
Ah, she’d finally woken. He glanced at her. “Of course I’m reading it.”
“Are you finished?”
She pushed up to a sitting position. As he’d surmised, she was wearing her thermal underwear. Much as he loved the sexy layer of sophistication she’d acquired, he was glad she hadn’t forgotten her country roots. She still knew how to dress for an autumn hike. And bonus, the underwear looked pretty good on her, hugging her curves like a second skin.
“Not quite.” He hoped she wouldn’t ask him for comments. Not until he was done, anyway. He needed time to process his impressions.
“I must be crazy.” She laughed and raked a hand through her hair. “I can’t believe I gave you that play.”
“You didn’t give it to me,” he corrected. “You traded me for it. Fair and square.” After a pause, he said, “So how’s the map?”
“Overrated.”
“Hey, you made the deal.”
He put the manuscript down beside him on the corner of the sleeping bag. Then he put his powerful flashlight—which he’d resorted to when his eyes started to feel strained—on top of the pile like a paperweight. Only the occasional blast of damp wind made it this far into the cave, but he was taking no chances. He glanced at his watch. It was almost three o’clock.
He turned toward the cave mouth. The strip of sky visible where the improvised tarp curtain left off confirmed it was growing darker. As he’d predicted, the rain was not letting up. Despite all his self-talk earlier about keeping his distance, he didn’t want it to clear up. And as he looked over at White Crow Cliff, he could feel her eyes on him. Then she crawled out of the sleeping bag, scooted closer and put her head on his shoulder, and he never wanted that rain to stop.
There was perfect silence. Perfect reflection. He knew that Ocean was staring at the cliff too. That place where so much had been taken from them both.
After a few minutes, she broke that silence. “When I was little, I used to stare out my bedroom window at this mountain. And when I came home last week, that was about the first thing I did. Stare out my bedroom window at Harkness Mountain. I loved looking at it. It was steady. Strong. Then I saw you coming yesterday, tracking me down in the woods, and that’s what I felt. Steadier. Stronger. Thanks for this. Thanks for all of this.”
He rolled suddenly tight shoulders. “Just keeping my part of the deal.”
“I got the better end of that transaction.” Ocean looked up at him with serious eyes, then laid her head back on his shoulder. As good as it felt to have her snuggled against him, he wished he could see her eyes.
“What happened that day, Titus?”
Jesus, he took that back. He was glad he couldn’t see her eyes. Or she his.
“Would you tell me about it? The day that Lacey died.”
“Sure.” He swallowed past the burn in his throat. “Lacey called her mother, Sandra, at approximately one o’clock in the afternoon, telling her she’d put her knee out trying to climb White Crow Cliff. She’d made it almost to the top before the injury. Sandra called search and rescue and they dispatched me and John Dunkle. John was a good half hour behind me. I reached the scene, rendered first aid to her knee, and—”
“No.”
He tensed. “No?”
“I don’t want that version, Titus. You’re not filing a police report here. I just want you to tell it to me.”
Titus’s heart hammered so hard in his chest, he almost felt dizzy. Then suddenly Ocean laid her palm over his heart, and he knew she’d be able to feel how hard it pounded.
“Tell me. What is it about Lacey’s death that still drives you? I know it haunts you, so don’t bother denying—”
“I was getting ready to repel down with her.” The words were out before Titus could stop them.
“Go on.” Ocean squeezed his hand in encouragement.
“Her knee was badly swollen when I got to her, and she was in quite a bit of pain from it. She was also in a pretty bad spot. For walking out, I mean. For just sitting there, the ledge was plenty wide, or so I thought. She was wedged in there good, with her back against the cliff. I didn’t think there was a fall risk. Anyway, I rigged up a harness and put it on her, intending to fasten her to me and repel down to the base of the cliff. From there, John and I could carry her out when he got there.”
“You actually had her in a harness?”
“I had the harness on her, yes, but she wasn’t connected to me. And I hadn’t yet driven a piton or secured the rope. There was so damned much room on the ledge, I didn’t think...” He swallowed again. “She said she felt a little weird. Nauseated. No doubt from the pain. I had to shift her around to get the harness on her, so I’m sure that aggravated the pain. Her stomach was probably roiling from it. Anyway, I turned toward my pack to dig out some Advil and I heard—”
“Her scream. I’m so sorry, Titus.”
“No. She never screamed. I just heard a little scrabbling noise. And when I turned, she was gone.”
“Gone,” Ocean whispered. “Fallen.”
“All I can figure is she tried to get up while I wasn’t looking. I couldn’t find the Advil right away and was digging through my pack. I was also trying to find my cell to call Dad, let him know what was going on, and get an ETA on John. I had to shift things all around in my pack. I should have pulled it closer, so I could keep her within reach, but I didn’t think. And while I was rooting around for the pills and the satellite phone, I was going over the evacuation plan in my mind. I probably left her unattended longer than I thought.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She must have got tired of waiting and tried to get up out of there herself—”
“No, you don’t understand.”
Something about her tone brought his head up. Her eyes were wide, her mouth a little slack as though with shock.
“What do you mean?” His voice was gruffer than he intended.
Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Titus, Lacey didn’t fall because you turned away for a minute. She fell because she had a seizure.”
“What?” The hair on his arms lifted and his scalp prickled. “A seizure? Why would you say that? There was an inquest...the medical records... Ocean, there was no history of seizure.”
“Yes, there was.” Her voice hitched. “That was another secret that only she and I knew.”
Chapter 19
OCEAN CLOSED her eyes as the reality of it—the impact of it all—struck her. Lacey hadn’t tripped and fallen from White Crow Cliff. If it happened that way, she’d have screamed all the way down. It hadn’t been negligence on Titus’s part—not at all.
He’d had no way of knowing.
Oh, God, her best and oldest friend had had a seizure and tumbled to her death. That had to be what happened.
All these years, Titus had blamed himself for not securing Lacey, for failing to keep her safe. But there was no way he could possibly have known something like that might happen.
Only Ocean could.
“A seizure.” She leapt to her feet. Wrapping her arms around herself, she paced the few steps the cave would allow. “It had to have been another seizure.”
Titus got up. Ocean could feel his eyes following her as she paced.
On her second pass by him, he grabbed her arm. “Are you saying she was epileptic?”
Ocean shook her head. “I don’t know.”
His dark brows came together in a fierce frown. “Then why would you say it was a seizure? Actually, you said another seizure.”
“Because she had one once before, when we were kids.” She felt the tears burning in her eyes, clogging her throat. “It was just the one time. Lacey...Lacey never told anyone. A
nd neither did I.” She swallowed hard. “If only I’d told someone…”
Warm, strong hands settled on her shoulders. “Tell me.” He tipped her chin up so she’d meet his eyes, and the first tear fell. He wiped it away. “Tell me everything.”
She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “We were kids,” she began. “It was the summer we’d turned thirteen, and Lacey and I both had gotten into a super intensive science camp at a Halifax university. She entered an essay contest and won a week’s scholarship to the camp. She was such a science nerd. I wasn’t into it so much, but where Lacey went, I went. With my mom being a teacher, it wasn’t hard to convince her I should go too.”
“That sounds like a pretty big adventure for a couple of kids from Harkness.”
“You’re not kidding.” She wiped her damp cheek. “Neither of us had been to a town bigger than Moncton before. Our parents worked it all out. They would drive us to Miramichi City and put us on the bus. When we reached Halifax, the bus company would arrange a trustworthy taxi to shuttle us to the university, where we’d register and find our dorms. It was huge. We were excited, and a little scared. But we were together. Lacey and I could do anything together. But then…” Ocean bit her lip.
“But then what?”
“Lacey had a spell. We were at her place, getting ready for the big trip. We’d gotten together the night before to pack my suitcase, and now we were packing hers. You’d think we were jetting off to Paris in the morning, rather than taking an eight-hour ride on a cramped bus.”
“And this spell?”
She pulled away from Titus’s warm grip, and walked to the cave’s entrance. Rain lashed at her lower legs and feet as she stared across at White Crow Cliff. “I was digging around in Lacey’s closet, looking for one of her denim skirts that I thought would look killer with the Gap T-shirt I’d gotten her for her birthday. She probably could have found it quicker than I could, but she was feeling a little nauseated from the hotdogs we’d had for supper, so I offered to find it. I’d just laid hands on it when I heard a loud thunk. I turned, and Lacey was on the floor.”
