Passion's Fire

by Jeanne Foguth

  Link shook his head, his tongue still pulling the heat away.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “We would have heard something. Perhaps a gunshot or at least a scream – he’s not that far behind.”

  She sighed. “I hoped this evening over dinner, things would get resolved. Now, I’m beginning to wonder if he intends to follow me for the next fifty or sixty years.” The pure dejection in her voice tore at his heart.

  “That’s not going to happen.” Link gently stroked her cheek. “Since the forward approach didn’t work, we’ll simply have to figure out a different strategy. Don’t worry, by the time Stone meets us at the bridge, you’ll have had your encounter.”

  Her large black pupils dominated her eyes as she studied him. “I believe you.”

  “Good. Now, let’s relax and think about something else.”

  “Such as?”

  “Anything. My mother always swore that things happened when you least expected them. It’s part of the watched pot theory.”

  “That it never boils?” she asked. He nodded. Jacqueline grinned. “What do you want to talk about?”

  That was a good question. He could think of a dozen topics he’d like to quiz the kayaker on, but if he’d had his choice, he and Jacqueline would have a conversation that didn’t require words. But if he gave into that temptation, when they were trying to lure a possibly homicidal stranger into their camp, it could be the stupidest thing he’d ever considered.

  Link shifted away until she was out of reach. Unfortunately, his fingers still yearned to touch her. Worse, the extra distance allowed him to notice that her skin not only felt soft, it looked silky as a ripe nectarine. Amazing how the woman could be soft and rock-solid at the same time. Thinking about her skin made his fingers began to itch, and Link wished he hadn’t sent the second tent back with Stone. When they’d pared things down to a bare minimum in case they needed to escape, sending it back had seemed logical, now, he wondered how he’d expected to control his impulses while temptation slept in the same tent.

  How long he could go without sleep?

  “I think the fish is done,” she said.

  “You’re right.” Carefully, he removed the pan from the fire and placed the fillets on the blue enameled plates.

  Jacqueline delicately sniffed. “It smells wonderful.”

  “Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells.”

  “It will.” She added biscuits and vegetables to the plates. “There we go, a feast fit for royalty.” She took a bite of the fish and a look of rapture spread across her face. “This tastes wonderful. Aside from Rory, you’re the only man I know that can cook a decent meal on an open fire.”

  “Practice.” He eyed the perfect, golden biscuits. “It looks like I’m not the only one that’s had it.”

  She chuckled. “Embers from open fires are where I learned to cook. I had a terrible time learning how to cook on an actual stove.”

  Link tried to decide whether to laugh or not. Though her expression looked serious, who in their right mind learned to cook on a campfire? “You are kidding.”

  She shook her head. “When I was growing up, we lived in an old cabin with mud chinking. We were out in the middle of nowhere and only had trees, a river and wildlife.” It sounded as if she’d been raised on another planet or hundreds of years in the past. “Basically, our cabin had three rooms. The south end was the main area and had a huge fieldstone fireplace, which Mama used for cooking. The other end was my parent’s room. Rory and I each had a loft.”

  “No bathroom?”

  “An outhouse. It was spooky if you needed to use it at night, and wasps liked to live in it in the summer.” Jacqueline’s nose wrinkled. “Rory’s loft was over the folk’s room, mine was over the kitchen.”

  “What’d you do, take baths in town?”

  She laughed as she shook her head. “There wasn’t a town.” As her mirth subsided, she reminisced, “We had a big antique tub and heated water by the fireplace. I loved it. When the ice melted, we used the river, but that was really cold.” She sighed. “Then we moved to the city, I thought it was the noisiest, smelliest place I’d ever seen. And the urban tubs.” Her nose wrinkled. “Sorry, I’m babbling. Guess I’m more nervous than I thought.”

  “So, you went from the middle of the wilderness to the middle of civilization.”

  “Not exactly.” She gave him a dazzling smile. He swallowed a bite of biscuit without chewing it, then had a coughing fit. “Are you all right?”

  Link nodded. He coughed a few more times, then drank some water and motioned for her to go on.

  “We moved to the outskirts of a small town, but I thought it was a booming metropolis and that we lived in the suburbs.” Jacqueline toyed with her biscuit. “I’d have died of culture shock if we’d moved somewhere like New York City, or L. A.”

  “Did you like having radio, television, phones and all the things I took for granted growing up?”

  “For the first couple years, I hated everything about the city,” she admitted. “But, by the time I turned into an adolescent, I’d gotten hooked on a couple shows and I was really into music.” She shrugged. “I never really learned to like cities. Who knows, maybe that’s why I chose the profession I did. Generally, when you contract for the type of research I do, you’re a good distance from humanity.”

  “Interesting.”

  “You must think the way I was raised sounds odd.”

  “Different,” he said. “I’m trying to decide if I’m envious or not.”

  “Living in tune with nature was a great way to grow up. I sometimes think social problems come from people getting too far from the natural order of things.” She made a frustrated gesture. “It’s like they’ve lost their identity and are lashing out.”

  The image of the kayaker came to Link’s mind. Was her stalker someone that had lost touch with reality? If so, the man was getting a good dose of it.

  She tried to hide a yawn. “It’s late. I guess we should give up on my stalker.”

  He nodded in agreement. “I’ll bank the fire.” As Link proceeded to put his words into action, he singed a finger and wondered if they should have kept the camp stove. It had been necessary when they began their trip, because firewood was so scarce, but now that they were in a timber area, it had seemed like excess baggage.

  Involuntarily, his eyes focused on Jacqueline. With quick, practiced movements, she took care of the dishes and secured the food. She was a great wilderness companion. He suspected that she did things his way to create a sense of compatibility, not because she lacked knowledge of the wilderness. Everything she did seemed like a product of effortless harmony. Paddling. Setting up camp. Cooking. Conversation.

  Link didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who was so open and honest. At times, he knew Jacqueline didn’t actually want to talk about a given subject, but she didn’t back off from it, either. She faced life head on, just as she wanted to face her stalker. In her own unobtrusive way, she was one of the most courageous people he’d ever met.

  Once their campsite was secured, Link crawled into his sleeping bag. Moments later, Jacqueline settled into hers. Rolling onto her side, she faced him across the two feet of plastic flooring.

  “Good night, Link. Sweet dreams.”

  “Thanks. Sleep well.” Though with her so close, he’d have to fight to relax, much less sleep.

  Listening to the soft rhythm of her breathing, his body proved him wrong. He dreamed of being a boy who lived in the wilderness. Assorted animals followed him wherever he went. Birds perched on his shoulder. Grizzly bears tossed prizewinning fish in his lap.

  Abruptly, he jerked awake. Tensely, he lay as he’d been, ears straining for the sound in the night that had roused him. There was no sound in the tent except Jacqueline’s low, soft breathing.

  In the distance, a wolf howled. Closer, an owl hooted, and water lapped against something.

  His eyes opened into slits. A lock of hair had fallen
across Jacqueline’s cheek. His fingers itched to reach out and move it, but he forced himself to remain still.

  Finally, convinced that whatever had woken him was only part of the strange dream, he drifted back into sleep.

  Hours later, the harsh screech of a raven woke him. Link opened his eyes and found himself looking into Jacqueline’s sleepy blue ones. She gave him a drowsy smile that melted his entire body. “Morning,” he whispered.

  She brushed her hair out of her face. “Want me to fix breakfast?”

  “I’d never turn down an opportunity like that.” It wasn’t every day that a desirable woman offered to cook for him. In fact, other than Ariel’s dinners and his mother’s, he couldn’t remember any woman cooking for him.

  Jacqueline eased out of her sleeping bag. For a moment, her hand touched his shoulder; a second later, the contact was gone. She applied insect repellent, then unzipped the tent and slid out.

  Contentedly, Link settled back down. It wouldn’t take much effort to get used to living like this or sharing his life with someone like Jacqueline. She was great company, and willing to share the load fifty-fifty. Plus, she looked fabulous in a rumpled sweat suit.

  With her gone, the tent didn’t seem as pleasant. He couldn’t watch her sleep. And smelling her lemony scent frustrated him. Link knew it was foolish to dwell on what he couldn’t have, particularly when he needed to focus on the task at hand. He decided to get up and start packing the camping supplies.

  Link kicked aside his sleeping bag and reached for the insect repellent.

  Jacqueline screamed.

  He lunged for the opening. Jerking it aside, he almost tore the tent flap’s zipper. “What’s wrong?”

  19

  “You rotten coward.” Jacqueline shook her fist at the river. “You spineless yellow-belly. You – you – you -” She took a great gulp of air. “How dare you do this to me?” She wanted to kick the darned cardboard, but knew that would be childish and only confirm to Link that he was treating her correctly.

  “What’s wrong?” Link stumbled from the tent, his foot caught in a sleeping bag and he fell through the flap. He scrambled upright, the fabric still clinging to his left foot.

  Jacqueline pointed a shaking finger at the filthy poster lying next to her toes. “That.”

  Link took a moment to pull the sleeping bag free then hunkered down next to the grimy mess that might have been poster board in a previous life. Gingerly, he tipped the cardboard up and, as expected, saw writing on the other side. The poster board floated back to the ground. The tip of his finger came away black. “What’d he use to write this with?”

  “Charcoal would be my best guess.”

  He rubbed his fingers together and nodded. “That’d smear like this.” They silently studied the scrawled response.

  Trick me once with your smiles and temptations.

  Shame on you.

  Trick me twice, shame on me.

  You know what I want:

  BURNING DESIRE,

  HEAT OF THE NIGHT,

  And, and, and

  all the INFERNOS.

  She read it a fourth time, but it didn’t make any more sense than when she’d first read it. Her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. “I’d like to make him explain what this sign means.” She laughed, but it sounded shrill instead of jolly. “And after I knew why he wrote this stuff, I’d rip the cardboard into itty-bitty pieces then ram them one by one down the damned kayaker’s throat.” There, the infantile truth was out.

  “This still sounds like some sort of list.” Link began buttoning his shirt. Too frustrated to talk, she threw her hands up. Link looked up from his crouched position. His brown eyes studied her. “At least we know a couple things.”

  “What?”

  “One, that poster board can’t be folded into origami and two that the kayaker is definitely Stalker-guy.” Hearing his assessment, her knees gave out. Jacqueline sat down with a plop of dust.

  Silently, Link shifted closer, then put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her against his side and held her. Peace radiated from Link and calmed the frantic beating of her heart. As his warmth enveloped her, Jacqueline realized how chilled she felt from gooseflesh to heart.

  The melancholy bellow of a lonesome moose echoed down the river. At least she had Link. Adam would have put her down for her fear of fire, and for attracting a stalker; he’d have made her deal with the man on her own.

  How had she ever gotten lucky enough to find Link?

  In some ways she felt more intimate with Link than she’d ever been with Adam. Jacqueline frowned as she considered that fact. How could a few days of Link’s pleasant friendship seem closer than years of marriage?

  It didn’t make sense.

  Link cleared his throat. “Can you think of anyone that you’ve tricked?”

  “What do you mean?” she mumbled.

  With his free hand, he gestured to the first phrase. “’Trick me once with your smiles and temptations. Shame on you.’ It’s the same thing he’s been writing since he started the notes. The only differences are that he obviously ran out of space, so closed with a generalization and that he’s using charcoal and poster board instead of ink and legal paper.

  “Who had you been dating prior to marrying Adam?”

  “No one.” Jacqueline exhaled her breath in a long sigh. “I was in college, carrying a full class load and working thirty hours a week at the Humane Society. I barely had time to eat and sleep.”

  “I can relate. I worked to put myself through school, too.”

  “Then you know how it was. The only people I saw were either in class or applying to adopt a stray.” She rubbed her aching temples. “I’ve tried to picture everyone, but it’s impossible.”

  “You ever get a chance to know anyone from work?”

  She shook her head. “I remember a couple of coworkers, but no one had the potential to look like a musk ox.” His arm tightened around her. “Obviously, whoever wrote this was focusing on you instead of either learning or his work.

  “That’s assuming you knew him from your college days.” Link frowned. “What worries me is that he seems like some sort of mental case.” Jacqueline bit her lip at hearing the same conclusion she’d come up with. Link pointed to the last line. “I can’t understand why he says, ‘all the infernos’. How many fires have there been?”

  “Just the one that killed Adam.” Jacqueline blinked away tears of frustration. “What sort of mental case is he? A psycho? Is he dangerous? Harmless? What on earth did I do to him to make him want to place blame on me for some sort of shame that he thinks I deserve?” Thoughts and words she’d kept bottled up for months poured out. “I can’t remember anyone with his description and that scares me.” She clenched her fists. “It makes me wonder if I have some sort of memory problem I’m unaware of.”

  He shook his head.

  “For him to know me as well as the tone indicates, he must at least have met me. Don’t you think?”

  Link grunted.

  “So, I have to wonder if I sleepwalk, or have a split personality, which means I’m just as insane as he is.”

  “Jacqueline.”

  “Wouldn’t you remember someone with one big shaggy eyebrow?” Link picked up the poster board with his free hand and studied it. “‘Trick me once with your smiles and temptations. ’ It sounds like your previous invitation was some sort of flirting, like you were offering yourself up as dessert instead of serving a main course.” Link chuckled.

  “Never in a million years.” He laughed harder. “It’s not funny,” she said.

  “You’re right.” He swallowed. “It isn’t.”

  “I have never flirted with anyone. Yes, I’ve tried to be pleasant.” She paused for breath. “What am I supposed to do when I meet someone? Frown? Glare?”

  He tried to look serious as he shook his head.

  “This is no laughing matter. Especially if I’m crazy or some lunatic thinks I’ve been flirting wi
th him when I was only being myself.”

  “I doubt if you know how to flirt.”

  “So, you think I’m crazy.” Jacqueline’s body ached with the effort of maintaining a calm appearance.

  “Don’t put words in my mouth.” Link’s tone sounded far too jovial.

  “If you ask me, flirting is a waste of time. Board games and cards just fritter away time, too.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of Link’s mouth. “Just like your grandmother.”

  “Probably,” she admitted. “And don’t expect me to apologize. I happen to think Grandma is great.”

  “I agree,” Link said. “And she isn’t senile enough to believe she might have a split personality, either.”

  The intensity of his gaze unnerved her. Glancing down, Jacqueline noticed the sooty scrawls. “The straightforward approach didn’t work. Why is he willing to follow me for thousands of miles but not to face me?”

  “That’s definitely a question I’d like the answer to.”

  She jabbed at the phrase ‘Shame on you’. “I resent the guilt he’s trying to heap on me. What did I do?” Jacqueline lunged to her feet and began to pace.

  “Beats me.”

  “It’s got to have something to do with some sort of meal. Why else would he reject a dinner invitation?” She stared at the river. “Link, I want to talk to him face to face. Now more than ever.”

  “That basically leaves us with one option.”

  “What?”

  “Confront the lion in its den,” he said.

  Jacqueline rubbed her upper arms, but the bone-deep chill persisted. “That sounds ominous.”

  “Can you think of another way?”

  She rubbed the gooseflesh harder. “At least the invitation got a reply. Maybe it was a step in the right direction. This is the first time I’ve been able to establish a dialogue.”

  “So, what do you want to do?” His gaze was unflinching. “Leave another message? Become pen-pals?” He arched a brow.

  “That’s better than all communications going one direction.” Jacqueline blew out a deep breath so hard that her bangs fluttered. “But I still want to see his face. Ask him to explain.” She kicked a clump of grass. “I hate all these unanswered questions.”