Intimate Portraits

by Cheryl B. Dale

  Things were coming together. He knew where the photographer would be at tomorrow night. He’d find her, take her out by Sunday at the latest, be long gone by Monday. If he headed straight home from Helen, he wouldn’t have to go through grimy Hotlanta.

  Enough of this shit. His whole head was clogged up from the ash. He cranked the van.

  The next thing was to find a motel for what was left of the night. Preferably one that offered movies on demand. A nice comedy or relationship movie.

  All those action films had way too much violence to suit him.

  Chapter 7

  After a restless night focused on Rennie in his room a few feet across from hers, Autumn was the first one up Saturday morning. The coffeemaker, once readied and turned on, began to deliver its inviting aroma. She filled a cup from the hot stream, and then took it to the living room.

  The draperies were closed from the past night, but she pulled one back from the tall windows to enjoy the vista of trees, sunshine, and the lake sparkling in the distance.

  Branches of low-lying laurels quivered. She stilled. Something or someone was out there, coming toward the cabin.

  A wild animal?

  Yes. In plain view on the lake trail below the cottage, a deer with spotted chest and white ears and horns, its coat burnished by a beam of gold early morning light, trotted confidently through the underbrush.

  Oh, pretty! She barely breathed, scared he’d look up and see her spying from the window and run, but the buck came on without haste, oblivious or uncaring. Three more, a doe and two half-grown fawns, followed in quick succession, strolling up the trail as though it were their private domain.

  No time to get to her camera. If she moved, they’d spook.

  Before the graceful creatures passed out of sight around the cottage, they stopped. She shrank back out of view but bumped into an unyielding bulk.

  Rennie. She smelled his woodsy scent, recognized his presence before he spoke. “It’s all right, they haven’t seen us.”

  His hands, below her shoulders, held her against him and warmed her through her sweater.

  His whisper grazed her ear. “There’s something on that little knoll, see? Maybe a salt lick. Or a plant they like.”

  She did see it. She concentrated on seeing it, on forgetting his chest touching her back, his hands on her arms.

  The doe reached out a supple neck to munch on some shrub or grass out of sight behind the rhododendrons.

  The deer. Don’t think about Rennie.

  Even if his chest did rub her back with each breath. That and his heat and his Rennie odor made the desire inside her rise to a physical ache nearly impossible to contain.

  Over the hammering of her heart, she heard footsteps, and Laney’s hushed whisper: “What are you two up to?”

  “Watching the animals at breakfast. Be quiet and scoot over here.” Rennie stealthily shifted so that Laney could slip in. He left one arm around Autumn and draped the other around his sister and the three of them stood in silence, watching as the marvelous wild creatures ate their fill and sauntered out of sight.

  “Well.” Autumn was the first to exhale and disengage herself from the marvelous civilized creature beside her. “What a beautiful way to start the day.”

  Laney was more prosaic. “We are in the mountains, remember. This stuff happens. How about a cup of coffee for us insiders?”

  “Another of the benefits of being an early riser.” Rennie squeezed his sister. “Fresh coffee and picturesque visitors, girls. Who could ask for more? Does it get any better than this?”

  “It gets lots better,” Laney said smugly. “It takes more than deer and coffee to make my day perfect.”

  Rennie winked at Autumn. “What a shrew you’ve become. And today your anniversary, too. For two years you’ve been saying marriage is bliss and now you say you’re unhappy.”

  “I didn’t say that. I merely said deer and coffee aren’t everything.”

  “Two years.” At the table, he sat down gingerly on a wooden chair as if making sure it would support his weight. “You’re an old married woman, Laney. And you and Norma both said you weren’t going to get married until you were at least forty.”

  “That was before I met John, smartass. I saw at once that I’d better grab him before somebody else did.” Laney, who despite her tartness exuded a lazy well-being markedly unlike her usual frenetic energy, got two cups, filled them full of hot coffee, and put cream and sugar into one. “I made a wise decision.”

  “No cream or sugar for me,” Rennie said.

  “Fix your own. This is for John.”

  Rennie’s jaw dropped. “Dios mio. Waiting on him hand and foot. And this is the same girl who thought feminists needed to be more aggressive?”

  His sister stuck out her tongue. “We all grow up. Besides, John deserves a cup of coffee in bed. He’s had a hard week.” She tried but couldn’t maintain her straight face. “Not to mention night. He worked extra hard in bed.”

  Rennie put his hands over his ears. “I'm shocked. You’ve got two unmarried people here, sister. Please don’t confide your and John’s sexual activities to them.”

  Laney smirked as she started back to the bedroom. “You’re jealous because you don’t have anybody to bring you coffee in bed.” She stuck out her tongue.

  “I could have coffee in bed if I wanted it,” Rennie called after her indignantly. “Every day, I could have it.”

  “I don’t think dogs can be trained to fetch coffee without spilling it,” Laney threw back over her shoulder as she sashayed toward the downstairs bedroom and John.

  Rennie chuckled and shook his head. “Sisters.” Taking his coffee to the front windows, he stood sipping and looking out, his lean figure a dark silhouette against the bright light. Dressed in jeans and flannel shirt, he fit the rough surroundings.

  Autumn commented on it.

  He stuck out a boot. “I figured if we were going to do that fifty-mile hike Laney’s planned for us, I’d better be appropriately attired.”

  “Five miles. Not fifty. But still a pretty good walk. Can we make it that far?”

  “Easy-peasy.” He reconsidered. “According to Laney.”

  Autumn sat at the table and drank her coffee and tried not to watch him. If Jane was gone, she could be more aggressive.

  No, she couldn’t. The thought of ending up with his pity kept her silent. She couldn’t go through that again. Better to write him off, let him go.

  After breakfast, Victoria begged off the hike. She had a weak ankle that walking irritated, but she’d be happy to drive the others over to Anna Ruby Falls where the trail began.

  Autumn cheered up.

  After Victoria dropped them off at the pavilion, they fed trout in the burbling creek before climbing up the concrete walk to the waterfall and the wooded trail circling back to the cabin.

  Autumn, Nikon slung around her neck, took a break at the end of the steep ascent. Twin cascades, falling from several hundred feet above, parted before re-merging in the lively creek below. Mist from its waters rose, wrapping her in its icy clasp. The air smelled fresh, like water and moss and pines.

  She ought to swap lenses, use the one that could stop motion, get the water as it fell.

  Before she could dig in her case, a shadow fell over her shoulder. Over the falls’ roar, she hadn’t heard Rennie come up.

  He spoke first. “I didn’t realize how much I missed this, how much I needed it. There’s a trout, there under that rock. See it?” He pointed past her shoulder at the stream below.

  She followed his finger. The fish lurked beneath one of several large boulders protecting a tranquil pool from the rough waters. “Big, isn’t he?”

  “He’d feed our whole group.” The fine lines in Rennie’s face had smoothed out. He seemed different. Happy.

  “So what didn’t you realized you’d missed?” she asked.

  He flicked that smiling glance at her. “You know.”

  Understanding flooded. “
Home. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”

  “I think so. Georgia’s home to me, and I love it. Jane would never have been happy here.”

  The casual mention emboldened Autumn. “Do you miss her?”

  He didn’t answer right away. When he did, he looked at her, his grin widening as if he was pleasantly surprised at seeing her still there. “No. Yesterday, I would have said yes, a little. But today… This is the first time I’ve thought of her, and it’s like I’m thinking of someone I barely knew instead of someone I planned to share my life with. Isn’t that strange?”

  His eyes were melting chocolate. Their noses were bare inches apart. She thought for one wild, hopeful moment he meant to kiss her and leaned in. His breath brushed her, warm and benedictory as, instead of kissing her, he put out a hand and used careful fingertips to trace her face, from forehead to cheekbone to chin.

  “Autumn, Autumn, how you’ve changed. I came back expecting you to be the same, but you’ve grown up and I’m a little lost. Maybe it’s true. Maybe you can’t go home again.”

  “No, it isn’t true,” she said fiercely. “You can. Home may not be what you remembered, but it’s still here, Rennie, and the people who love you are still here. All of us.”

  His hand outlining her lips hesitated. Her vehemence had caught him by surprise. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut?

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “For sure, the people I love most are here.”

  “You folks ready?” John’s jovial call summoned them. “We’ve got a long way to go before we get back.”

  Autumn jumped. How embarrassing, to be caught leaning forward, begging to be kissed like a stupid kid.

  Rennie’s hand withdrew, but his eyes didn’t change, didn’t move from her face. “No, home isn’t what I remembered. But you’re right, it’s still home. And I’m happy to be back.”

  “Good,” she said softly.

  As they climbed the steps toward the trail, he began whistling beneath his breath, a tuneless sound that accompanied them as they entered the worn forest path.

  Why hadn’t she told him she was glad he was home? Why hadn’t she told him how much she’d missed him?

  Because she had no courage. Because she was afraid of another compassionate rebuff she couldn’t handle. Not again.

  But he’d been the one to touch her face.

  Trunks of tall naked oaks and silver birches and red maples shot upward with myriad deciduous trees to erect a living wall that closed the hikers off from civilization. They made their way through the woods like Cherokees of old, skirting copious stands of evergreen laurel and rhododendron threatening to reach out and cover the trail, and clambering over rocks and logs that occasionally barred the path.

  The terrain wasn’t rough but by noon, when they reached the end of the trail inside Unicoi State Park, they all felt the effects. Plodding toward their cabin single file, conversation and jokes long since abandoned, Laney took the lead, with Autumn second. Rennie and John lagged in the rear.

  When Autumn looked back, she caught them exchanging furtive words. She stopped beside a pine and waited.

  “—don’t want it spoiled,” she heard John say. “So you’ve got to promise not to tell her. If you slip up—”

  “Don’t worry.” Rennie was reassuring. “I’ll see to it.”

  What were they planning? “See to what?”

  Two guilty faces swung toward her.

  “The breakfast dishes,” John said blandly. “We left them soaking, remember?”

  She didn’t bother to hide her incredulity. “I wonder what you two are up to.”

  Their grins were smug and uninformative.

  Okay, she wouldn’t intrude on whatever it was they were planning, but she hoped it didn’t have to do with pairing Victoria off with Rennie. Analyzing that almost-kiss at the falls had set her imagination whirling.

  If she hadn’t been so surprised, she could have said something, done something. If she hadn’t worried about what he would have thought, she could have moved against him, brushed his lips with hers, tested his reactions and gone from there.

  Maybe there would be another opportunity. If she was cautious and very determined and very persistent, maybe there might yet be a chance.

  I’m not ugly. Men do look at me. Fran’s been flirting with me for weeks. Why shouldn’t Rennie? If I can show a little spirit, he might. What will it hurt if he turns me down?

  Duh. Her pride. And any hope of getting him, too.

  ****

  Sam Bogatti, about to check out of his motel, made one last phone call, got the information he needed, and ended the conversation. “Thanks for the directions. When I get to Helen, I’m sure I can find your restaurant.”

  After he hung up, he stuffed a stick of gum into his mouth and looked at the note taken from the studio.

  What did that seven beside the restaurant name and telephone number mean? Seven people? Or did she have a reservation there for seven o’clock?

  He yawned, stretched, got up off the unmade bed, and picked up his bag. One last sweep of the room and bath ensured he’d got everything.

  Seven people or seven o’clock. What the shit did it matter? He’d be there early and hang out till he found her. With luck, he could do a clean job and get away with no one the wiser.

  But first he had to get to Helen. The woman at the restaurant said three hours from Atlanta, but the GPS said two hours and twenty minutes from here.

  Time to get it over with and start home.

  ****

  Rennie’s sense of well-being from the hike dissolved as soon as they returned to the cabin. Three other people, including Francisco and Norma Degardovera, waited.

  Norma had brought her boyfriend, too, though he wasn’t the cause of Rennie’s discontent. Paul Talliafierro, he decided after a discreet examination of the banker who was his sister’s latest conquest, might have more staying power than her other men. His freckled face and square shoulders held a no-nonsense air far removed from her usual flings.

  While Rennie liked Paul’s self-deprecating humor, he couldn’t tell whether Norma liked it, too. She was as noncommittal as ever.

  But Norma and her affairs weren’t his problem.

  His brother was the one who got under Rennie’s skin. Ignoring Rennie’s jaundiced eye, Francisco jumped up from his seat near Victoria and grabbed Autumn, hugging and kissing her in a most unbrotherly fashion.

  The Degardoveras were a demonstrative family, accustomed to open displays of affection. But Francisco was lavishing way too much on Autumn. And in spite of her protestation that she and Fran were friends, Autumn didn’t seem to mind.

  She ought to. She’d had enough front row experience with Francisco and women.

  Keeping one eye on his younger brother, Rennie made small talk with Paul. “So Georgia’s about to get a Hispanic governor. What does the banking industry think about it?”

  Paul, ignoring Norma’s squeals from across the room where she was bombarding her sister and Victoria with some tale about the trip up to Helen, shrugged. “We’re like all the other voters. Though it looks like Huertole’s got a good platform.”

  “Business oriented, is he?”

  Like Rennie and Francisco, Paul was a tall man, but his body, unlike the lanky frames of the Degardoveras, was solid. A fighter’s body. Rennie’s question evoked a shrug. “Looks that way on the surface. One thing’s sure, he’s got the backers.”

  “Money’s what it takes,” Rennie agreed as a burst of merriment came from where his sisters and Victoria had clustered around Francisco and Autumn. He wondered what his brother was saying to make them giggle.

  “Speaking of which, I heard a rumor yesterday.” Paul addressed John, who was offering him a cup of steaming cider. “An ugly rumor. Connecting Huertole with South American drug cartels.”

  John’s round face puckered. “So they’re starting to sling the dirt already. That’s what it is, Paul. A rumor. His parents came here from Colombia,
so sure, he has relatives there. But Gus is squeaky clean, believe me.”

  “Oh, I do, I do.” Paul blew on the hot cider. “But when something like that gets started, you know how it goes.”

  “We’ll deal with it when we have to. Fran and I have our strategy all worked out. We plan to go public with Gus’s personal finances as well the campaign accounts. That should squelch any rumors about illegal campaign funding. Right, Fran?” John looked toward Francisco for confirmation, but Fran was too engrossed in his feminine audience to notice.

  John rolled his eyes at Rennie.

  Worse, Norma, not content with Francisco’s monopolizing Autumn, had joined with Elena in a subtle offensive designed to throw the two together.

  His sisters needed to go soak their heads.

  As Laney drew Victoria up from the loveseat and brought her toward John and Rennie and Paul, Norma pushed Francisco down on it. He, the turkey, took full advantage of his sisters’ ploy to pull Autumn beside him and fasten a possessive arm around her shoulders, chatting all the while like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  The devil take his whole family.

  Rennie seldom allowed them to get on his nerves, but they were particularly obnoxious today. Did they have to be so obvious about pushing Autumn at Francisco? Not that his brother needed encouragement.

  Come to think of it, considering the type women Francisco preferred, why the devil was he was hanging around Autumn? There was nothing about Autumn to make a womanizer like Francisco fall for her.

  Nothing except those interminable legs and that miniscule waist and that long smooth neck and those clear blue eyes that narrowed when she got tickled about something.

  She deserved better than Francisco.

  Not that Rennie would let his annoyance show. He wasn’t even sure it was annoyance that he felt.

  But it sure was something. After Autumn’s suggestive photograph teeming with Francisco’s sexual innuendo, he had expected them to be paired up.

  Which made his reaction on seeing them together more incomprehensible.