She inhaled the clean, tart scent of his aftershave. He emanated warmth and security. Yet as safe as she felt with him, in his arms like this, she was also afraid of how much she wanted him. She wondered if she had spoken the thought out loud, because he tipped her chin up and covered her lips with his.
Instantly, she stopped moving, her mouth responding to his. They stumbled slightly, but he held her up, which broke the kiss. They laughed, and clasping his hand tightly, she let him lead her back to their table. She reached down to stroke Sterling’s head as she sat.
“Let’s get back,” he said, his voice a rough whisper.
No, that wasn’t Kenneth Branagh’s voice, she thought, and not his face either, only Blair’s. She wanted to see him with her fingertips and her lips. She wanted to know everything about him.
“All right. I’m ready.”
He paid the server, and they downed the rest of their wine. The male singer began to croon a tune called “Begin the Beguine” as they made their way out of the club.
“Let’s cut through the park,” she said, surprised at her own request. “I do want to move beyond the past, and besides, there are some nice benches by the lake. The area still has lots of streetlights, doesn’t it?”
“Sure, and people are walking there. Fine by me.”
“Besides, Sterling deserves a little romp.”
“Sterling? How about me?”
She laughed again, and they crossed the street, walking along the soft park grass to the gravel path, the one she’d been jogging on the night she was attacked. It hadn’t been in this part of the park, though. Still, the amphitheater loomed between here and the area where she’d been running when Dortman must have appeared. She wished she could recall what had happened, but then again, maybe she didn’t. She took off Sterling’s harness, and Blair threw sticks for the dog to chase while they sat on a stone bench. The leaves were budding on the trees, and the wet soil of spring smelled fresh and fertile.
They held hands, then kissed. They made plans to go to the beach this summer, to have a picnic in the country—just the three of them. She said she’d like him to see her small hometown, and he even volunteered to meet her mother. It seemed, Alexis thought as she bent to put Sterling back into harness, her nightmares had turned to dreams.
In her cell that evening, after dinner, Tina reread the fax from her son Larry’s caseworker for the fourth time. Even though she was incarcerated, children’s services was trying to keep her informed, no matter how bad the news. The fax read:
We are endeavoring to place Lawrence Clawson in a stable, welcoming foster home. But most of our placements are currently of younger children or girls. So for the foreseeable future, until someone suitable is located and approved, Lawrence will remain in the custody of children’s services. We regret that your children are not together, but circumstances dictate that—”
Tina threw the paper down and hit the mattress with her fist so hard that Corky jumped and looked up from her padded bed on the floor of the cell.
“Sorry, girl. It’s all my fault. But, you know, I think if I’d had you and Sterling before I’d had my own two babies, I’d have been a better mom, and then this wouldn’t all be happening.”
“Hi, Tina,” came a voice through the barred window of the steel door. Tina jerked her head around. It was Brenda, a floor officer, with Jeannie, their silver-haired Puppies Behind Bars instructor. Tina and Corky were due at a rare evening meeting in a little while, so she had to pull herself together. But why was Jeannie coming here?
This must mean more bad news. Tina felt her insides freeze over with fear.
“Ms. Lancer would like to have a little chat,” Brenda said, unlocking the cell door.
Tina stood. Corky did, too, staring at the two intruders as if she was on guard. Then she evidently scented or recognized Jeannie and padded over to be petted. Everyone in the PBB program liked this woman, who was formerly a breeder of Labradors. Tina tried not to frown, but she felt herself stiffen.
“I’m just wondering how you and Corky are getting along,” Jeannie said, bending to pat the puppy. “Since you had such success with Sterling, I thought maybe you could give me an honest appraisal. The thing is, I know you’ve been through some really tough times lately, and I just want to be sure you don’t think your…depression…is affecting Corky’s well-being.”
Tina’s stomach twisted. Were they going to take Corky away?
“I know Corky relies on me, but I rely on her, too,” Tina blurted, then could have kicked herself. She didn’t want to give Jeannie or anyone an opening to reassign her puppy. What if they thought she was too unstable to help raise Corky?
“Do you think that your needs sometimes get in the way of her concentrating on the task at hand—that is, what you’re trying to teach her?” Jeannie asked.
“No, she can concentrate real good. I think the love I give her and the way we need each other—maybe even more right now than most inmates need their puppies—is good for her. After all, think how much her handler is going to have to rely on her to be strong to sniff out all kinds of explosives. The way I love Corky is a two-way street, and that’s what a dog like this will need in the future—love and feedback for the good job she does.”
“Tina, I just want the best for both of you,” Jeannie said. “You proved what a fine job you can do with Sterling last time, so—”
“I’m working through my problems, and I can still change more. I changed a lot since I been serving my sentence here.”
“What about your family situation right now?” Brenda asked.
“Yeah, my daughter’s been placed in a foster home, and I just got a letter about trying to place my son, too…” Her voice trailed off. She retrieved the letter from her bed and held it up to them before she realized that in her frustration she’d twisted it like a licorice stick.
“I heard about your family, and I’m so sorry,” Jeannie said.
“I appreciate that.” Tina struggled to show these women she could keep calm. Were they putting her through this questioning to see if she would break? “I’m handling my tough times. Just like these puppies, I’m learning patience. I’ve learned teamwork and self-control in this program, and I can teach that to Corky. I’ve seen how much having a routine and plans and responsibilities have helped the dogs and me. Give me more time with her—all the time she should have, and you’ll see a dog as perfect as Sterling was.”
As she spoke, Corky moved forward to stand beside her. Damn, but it was like the dog understood what was going on and was trying to help out. Didn’t that count for something?
“Tina,” Jeannie said, holding her hands up, palms out, “no dog—just like no person—is perfect. As gentle as Sterling was, you remember how she would sometimes growl when voices were raised. The guide dog instructor told me she was steady as a rock when walking by jackhammers blasting apart a sidewalk, yet when those women in the domestic-violence class cried or shouted, she reacted.”
“But Sterling came through with flying colors, and Corky—and I—will, too,” Tina insisted.
“Good enough.” Jeannie gave a quick nod. “Then I’ll see you and Corky in about—” she glanced at a large watch on her left wrist “—half an hour.”
“For sure. We’ll be there, ready to go.”
Once she heard them walk away, Tina collapsed on the edge of her bed and leaned over to hug Corky. “Thanks for the help, girl,” she whispered. “See how smart you are? You just sniffed out how bad I needed you to stand up with me.”
“Do you want to come in for a few minutes?” Alexis asked Blair as he and Sterling brought her to her door after walking the rest of the way through the park, even past the amphitheater. Alexis had said it was like exorcising some demon, but she’d admitted she still could not recall exactly how she’d fallen down those steps.
“Sure,” he said. “And I’ll try to abide by your few minutes’ curfew.”
As she dug her keys out of her purse, Blair was t
empted to take them from her to open the door, but he let her feel for the keyhole and put the key in herself.
“Home, Sterling,” she said as she opened the door. “We’re home.”
“Is home one of the regular commands?” Blair asked as he followed her in and closed and locked the door behind them. She snapped on the light over her small dining area, then removed Sterling’s leash. The Lab shook herself once as if to say, “That’s a good night’s work done,” then plopped on her padded dog bed along the far wall.
“No, but I’ve been slowly adding commands like that and f-i-n-d t-h-e w-a-y,” Alexis said, spelling the words as if Sterling were a kid. “Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything?”
“Just get yourself over here so we can continue what we started in the park.”
It thrilled him that she simply dropped her purse on the table and strode to the couch. It was a deep, soft sofa with bolsters along the back, which made it hard to sit erect. He reached for her hand and tugged her down beside him. Their weight rolled them into the pillows so they were half sitting, half lying back.
“Blair, could I feel your face? To—to see you as best I can?”
In answer, he guided her right hand upward so her palm and fingers touched his left cheek. She’d known how smooth his skin was from dancing so close, though now she felt the slightest hint of stubble. No mustache; very short sideburns. She felt the angular line of his jaw and high cheekbones, too. Gently, she ran her fingertips along his temple, through the crisp, short hair on both sides of his broad forehead, then back where it became thicker and longer. She had wondered if his haircut would be marine-short or artsy long, but it was in between.
“I grew it out from the jarhead look I used to have,” he whispered as if he’d read her mind.
“Shh!”
She ran her fingers along his thick, sleek eyebrows and down the strong bridge of his nose. It was just slightly crooked with a bump. “A broken nose from when you were a kid?” she asked.
“An arrest gone wrong. But I thought I was supposed to keep quiet.”
Ignoring his teasing, Alexis felt where his nostrils flared, felt his warm breath coming quickly. She touched his thick eyelashes and then his lips. Straight, taut lips, but the bottom one slightly pouted—poised for another kiss perhaps? He did kiss her fingertips, then nibbled at them.
“If you don’t know how my lips feel by now,” he said, “we have a lot of work to do.”
He pulled her to him so she was sprawled across his lap and kissed her once, twice. They breathed in unison, their breath coming more quickly with each kiss. Perhaps, now, Alexis thought, she had really found the way.
Blair left shortly after—and it was a good thing, because he was showing more self-control than she was. Alexis was so excited she couldn’t sleep. Was the impact of kissing magnified when someone was blind? If so, making love with Blair would send her off the charts.
And, she thought, trying to make herself settle down to earth, she and Blair Ryan seemed meant for each other. After all, he’d kept coming back even after the way she’d treated him at first. And she knew she could trust him. A man who was willing to drive to a tiny town two hours away on his day off to meet her mother had to be sincere. She’d been so wrong to let what had happened to her make her fear men.
“Sterling, my girl,” she told the dog, “we are going to celebrate. I’m getting you an extra treat and a bath.”
Sterling knew what treat meant. The word seemed to be branded on her canine heart. In the kitchen, she gobbled up the milk-bone snack, then marched right into the bathroom with Alexis while she filled the tub and got the doggie shampoo and three big towels. She made sure the water was the right temperature, because Sterling was anxious, bumping and nuzzling her.
“All right, in you go,” Alexis said, and the dog got in as if she knew all those words, too. The running water made a lot of noise, but she thought she heard—or sensed—a knock on the front door. “Sterling, stay. Sit.”
Could Blair have come back and be knocking? In the hall, at the door to the bathroom, she strained to listen.
No, nothing. But there did seem to be a cool draft from the back of the apartment.
Behind her, Sterling started to whine and slosh around in the water.
“Blair?” Alexis called.
A hall floorboard creaked in the direction of her bedroom.
“Lover boy’s gone,” said a voice she knew all too well. She gasped and stepped back against the bathroom door frame. “But don’t be sad, ’cause you got me, babe—this time for good.”
CHAPTER FIVE
This was a nightmare! Alexis thought. She had to be dreaming.
But she knew she wasn’t.
Len Dortman’s voice was just as she’d remembered. The apartment felt heavy with his presence.
Her first instinct was to scream—to run for the front door, but she’d take too long with the locks. She could try to get to her purse on the table and her cell phone so she could call Blair, call 911. Or turn off the lights so Dortman couldn’t see, then run to the front window, break the glass and scream. He must have come in the back. Did he jimmy open a window, one she could use to escape?
Her brain processed all her options in a split second of disbelief and horror. His footsteps came closer. He slammed the bathroom door, evidently to keep Sterling in, and grabbed her arm, then half heaved, half spun her into the living room and onto the couch. She felt her robe split open; she wore only a sleep shirt under it.
She righted herself fast, but he slammed down beside her, pulling her to him. His fist clenched her hair to hold her still, inches from his face; she smelled him and his clothes—sweat, liquor, tobacco.
And then she knew she’d have to find much more courage than she’d ever had in her life. More than she’d needed to face blindness or risk trusting—and loving—Blair. Blair! she tried to send him a mental message. He’s back, he’s here. Come save me!
But she knew she’d have to save herself. One of her neighbors was away this weekend, and the other was a hard-of-hearing old lady, so screaming might not work.
She chose not to fight—not yet at least. Stay! Sit! She gave herself Sterling’s commands and willed herself to be as steady as her dog.
“Long time no see, Alexis,” Dortman held her upper arms in a brutal grip. She almost gagged as she inhaled his breath.
Did he know that she was blind? She wasn’t sure, but she could think of no way to fool him on that. She braced herself to remember all that she and Blair had discussed about this monster. Don’t anger him, she told herself. Don’t let him think you’re rejecting him.
“You do know I can’t see anymore?” Her voice was quavering. She spoke up to make herself sound less afraid. “That night you left me hurt at the bottom of the steps, I lost my sight.”
“I read it online from the Star Ledger.”
She had to keep him talking.
“You’re the one who ran,” he said, his voice accusing. “I only meant to grab you—hold you—at the top of the steps, but you fell down backward. It wasn’t my fault.”
“I realize that now. I’m not blaming you. Actually, I could hardly recall what happened that night—head injury.”
“What happened is that I stopped you on the path and told you how things had to be between us—what a mistake you’d made to get me fired.”
“I didn’t intend that. It’s just that I expect someone who cares for me to give me some space if I ask for it.”
“Space!” he roared, shaking her. “You wanted me out of your way, out of your life!”
“No, your—your intensity just scared me, that’s all.”
“If you want a wimp, you’re not the woman I thought. I could tell you wanted me, too, so why did you have to play hard to get?”
“I just wasn’t ready for such a commitment then. But now that I’ve had a lot of time to think things over, I’m not so sure.”
“Blindness taught you that—or missing
me?”
“It’s hard to say. I’m still working it all through, and I just need a little more time from you.”
He snorted. “Away from me, you mean.”
But she was grateful to feel him ease his grip on her arms a bit. She heard Sterling pacing in the bathroom. Guide dogs were bred to calmly, gently accept new people, so what good would it do her to have Sterling in here? Whatever happened to her, she couldn’t bear to have that beautiful dog hurt, too.
“The thing I want to know,” he said, giving her another little shake, “is that if you agree it wasn’t my fault, then why were the cops on my back?”
“Of course it wasn’t your fault, especially since you say I just fell. I guess the police have to investigate everything, that’s all. I had weeks in the hospital to think things over—and then to be blind and need someone to help me.” The words almost burned her mouth to say them. “I remember how much you wanted to be with me…Well, that’s one reason I had to get a guide dog. I need someone with me all the time to lead me around. And I realized too late how loyal you were to me, how much you tried to care for me.”
“You’re lying. I seen Mr. Twinkle Toes dancing with you tonight—and you invited him in.”
He’d been watching her and Blair. And if he knew Blair was the one who’d been hunting him…
“How long have you been back in town?” she asked, stalling for time, praying she could reach something to hit him with.
“Long enough to see you necking in the park with that guy, and who knows what else. I might a been content to just keep watching you and the dog for a while, but what I saw tonight made me realize I got to get you away from him, one way or the other.”
Blair couldn’t sleep. He kept pacing back and forth from his kitchenette to his front door in the dark. Everything seemed to be going his way, but he still couldn’t sleep. His mind was going a mile a minute, and he was on his third peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and glass of milk, even though he and Alexis had enjoyed dinner earlier. Talk about women being stress eaters!
More Than Words: Stories of Strength Page 17
