She murmured in her sleep.
Agony.
He defined misery as thinking about how Jacqueline tasted and vowing never to kiss her again.
Again, she murmured in her sleep. This time, she followed the sensual sound by nuzzling his nape. Perspiration broke out on his forehead.
Torment.
There was no way he was going to get any more sleep, and he refused to interrupt hers. Link carefully positioned his pillow under her arm, and then he escaped temptation. The cool dry morning air quickly evaporated his perspiration, and left him chilled, but it was a welcome relief after the overheated condition he’d been in.
Link stoked the fire then scraped embers into a cooking ring and filled the coffeepot. As he waited for it to perk, he sat down and leaned back against a boulder. Dawn’s peaceful serenity seeped into him. Gradually, the residual sexual tension drained away, and he slept.
Capolucho woke him when he poured himself a mug of coffee. He stretched. Muscles moaned; joints complained, and his entire body tingled. Link suspected that his backside had frozen solid. Yet, as the circulation returned, he decided he felt much better than the first time he’d awakened that day.
“Mmm. This is great.” Capolucho smacked his lips. He blew into his mug, then took another sip of coffee and savored it before he swallowed
Link poured himself a mug of the thick, brew that resembled molasses. He gulped without thinking. The sour substance landed in his stomach like an acid bomb. Capolucho took another swallow, his expression rapturous as he relished the sludge.
Link put his mug aside. “I’m glad you like the coffee.” He could taste the bitter brew with every syllable and prayed he wouldn’t disgrace himself.
Capolucho fondled his enameled metal mug. “Reminds me of my Jackie.”
If she made coffee like this, why hadn’t he celebrated her departure? Link tossed a scrap of wood onto the embers. “Tell me about her.”
Capolucho slurped his coffee. “She was beautiful. Exciting. Sexy.”
And brewed acid strong enough to ulcerate the nose with one whiff. “Too bad she left.”
Capolucho’s nod was jerky. “I guess I always knew it was temporary.” He grimaced and shook his head. “She was high class. A real jet setter. Born to money and all that. I still don’t know why she was willing to live with me. I lived on hot dogs and beans.” He sighed. “Mostly beans. She was used to caviar.”
Link tossed another chunk of wood into the fire. It barely missed the coffeepot, again. “So, your Jacqueline was rich.”
“We never talked much about money. Every few months, I’d sell a painting and we’d stock up on the basics, then party ’til we were broke again. She loved to party.”
“When you first met her, you said you thought she was contemplating suicide. What made you think that?”
“She looked like she didn’t have anything to live for. Then there was the way she was looking at the lava; like she was possessed by it or maybe in love with it. I can’t really explain it, but she felt something.” Capolucho swallowed a large gulp of coffee and stared silently off into the distance.
Link suspected that he’d learned all he was going to about the other Jacqueline.
“My Jackie reminded me of Princess Di. Spirit wise, not looks. She had this refinement to her. I knew she was more than I deserved, but I loved her. At least I thought I did. The last couple days, I’ve wondered if she was only a fancy face. You ever felt that way?”
“In high school.” And a couple times since.
Capolucho stared at him for a long moment, then looked at the ground and nodded. “There was a dark side to my Jackie, but I ignored it.”
“Depression?” If the woman was mentally ill, there were lots of opportunities for help. The man slowly shook his head. Then again, the woman had apparently loved lava or the fire goddess or whatever she’d seen in the volcano. Link arched a brow. Possession? For that Capolucho could have sought the aid of a priest.
“She hated dogs.” The short whiskers on Capolucho’s chin undulated as if he was gnawing his words. Perhaps he was just chewing the coffee. “Was always throwing things at them. Even wanted to buy a pistol to shoot them, but I refused.” He lowered his gaze, then peeked back up. “I like dogs.”
“So do I,” Link said.
“I like myself better without her.”
Big surprise. “When did you figure that out?”
“Watching you and your Jacqueline,” Capolucho said. “You complete each other. You accept each other for who you are. Work together. You’re a team. My Jackie and me was never like that. My Jackie always stage-managed me …. made up stories or just plain refused to tell me where she’d been and what she’d been doing. Or else she was trying to change me. And she never lifted a finger to do much of anything, neither. Sat around all day reading about soap operas and other rich people. Or she’d do her nails. It seemed like she always had wet polish on them.” He shrugged. “I had to do all the shopping, cooking and cleaning.”
“Sounds like a real piece of work.”
Capolucho shook his head. “She was high class, and worth every bit of effort.”
Link had an image of a high-class whore or at least a woman who was only good in bed. Lest he articulate the thought, he took a gulp of coffee. He gagged and spit it out. “Sorry,” Link said. “It went down the wrong way.”
Jacqueline emerged from their tent and stretched.
“Want some coffee?” Capolucho asked, as he reached for the pot to pour himself a second cup.
Her nose twitched and her eyebrows rose. “Smells wonderful, but I’m in the mood for tea.”
Why hadn’t he thought of that excuse? “That does sound good.” Link threw out the coffee. “I’ll put on some water.” Rising, he gave her a quick hug and pecked her cheek. She glanced at Capolucho and blushed.
Every fiber in Link’s body urged him to give her a real kiss, but he knew better than to follow through on that temptation. Link found that he was suddenly anxious to get home, where he could lock the door and have time to figure out if this was love or lust or whatever the feeling was without distractions.
What if this was real love, and she shared his feelings? What did he want to do about it? What if she did not share his feelings?
There were too many unanswered questions.
Five hours later, Link spotted the distant bridge and knew they’d almost completed the final leg of their journey. He glanced at his watch. “If Stone is on time, he’ll meet us in four hours.”
“We couldn’t have timed it better,” Jacqueline said.
Suddenly, Link remembered that going home meant demands on his time from Carmen, Stone, Ariel and Tempest. He grunted at the thought of Tempest. His job would intervene, too. He groaned louder.
Jacqueline looked over her shoulder. “Still suffering from Capolucho’s coffee?”
“I brewed that pot,” he confessed. “Unfortunately, I fell asleep.” He glanced at their companion. “Fortunately Capolucho thought it was ambrosia.” As she began to turn forward, he asked. “How would you like to drop Capolucho off with Stone and spend another week or so on the river?”
She swiveled back. “Why?”
“So we can have time together.”
Jacqueline wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and Link inhaled. “It’s probably better if I go back to Grandma’s.”
“Why?”
She took a deep breath. “I need time and space.”
“What do you mean?”
“For months,” her gaze darted to the kayak, “actually, years, I’ve thought of my stalker as some sort of villain.” Her upward-turned palms signaled her discontent. “Now I finally meet him and I realize Capolucho is more of a victim than I’ve ever been.”
“So this is about Capolucho?”
“Sorta.”
“I’d like to explore— ” Link paused, wondering how to phrase his thoughts and feelings without offending her.
“I thought I loved Adam, but sinc
e he died, I can’t even remember what he looked like.”
“What’s that got to do with spending another week on the river?”
“Everything,” she said quietly. “When you kissed me—” She bit her lip. “Last night’s kiss was the most wonderful thing I’ve felt in my entire life.” She blushed scarlet.
“That’s why I think we need more time. Time to figure out what—”
“Link, please, I said no.” She ended the thought with a helpless gesture.
“I thought you were attracted to me.”
“That’s the problem.” Her tone was so soft he could barely hear her over the water lapping the sides of their canoe.
“Why?”
“Link, I think I lo— ” Her blush deepened as her voice got softer. She cleared her throat. “I should never have kissed you.” As she raised her voice, her chin went up.
“Are you sure?” Hadn’t she felt it, too?
She chewed her lower lip. “Right now, my life is in chaos. I don’t even have a place to live.”
“Live with Mavis.” Better yet, live with me. For a second, he thought he’d said it out loud and she might throw her paddle at him or at least douse him with river water.
“I need to feel as if I’m contributing something.” Jacqueline paused. “The earth is being destroyed by overpopulation, misuse of resources, greed, misinformation and pollution. I want to make things better for future generations. That’s my calling. And if I ignore it, there might not be a future for any living thing.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except maybe cockroaches.”
Why was she avoiding discussing any feelings she might have for him? What if she didn’t like him and was simply too polite to say so? ‘I should never have kissed you.’ Link tried to swallow past the lump of fear in his throat. “You’re right, you should pursue your calling.”
“Right now, too many things have turned topsy-turvy.”
He nodded. Unspoken emotion formed a choking lump. “Jacqueline, I don’t want to lose you.”
“Link, I don’t know what I think or feel about anything.”
“Are you still in love with Adam?” Her eyes widened. She quickly looked at the frigid water, then slowly returned her gaze to his.
“I don’t know if I ever was in love with him.” Her regretful tone confused him.
“But you married him.”
Jacqueline nodded. “In retrospect, I think I was in love with his dedication to saving nature.”
His gaze locked with hers. “So that’s it? One kiss and good bye?”
“If that’s my only option, I guess it has to be.” She looked ready to cry. “Link, I know I gave you the wrong impression with the way I kissed you, but I’m not—” She looked away and bit her lip.
Link hadn’t cried since he’d watched the bittersweet ending of Schindler’s List. He vowed that he wouldn’t cry now. He cleared his throat. “Does this mean we won’t see each other again?”
“After spending so much time with you over the last few days, I can’t imagine being completely cut off from you.” Jacqueline blinked rapidly and he saw tears in her eyes. “You still owe me a flight to Valdez, unless you have other obligations.” She swallowed. “Perhaps, if I can find a job in Valdez, we’ll see each other once in a while.”
“Count on it. And while you’re at it, you might want to look for work in Fairbanks, too.”
Jacqueline gave Link a lopsided smile before she turned her attention back to the river.
Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. The tension was broken, but he might have lost her in the process. Link couldn’t imagine his life without her and he felt as if he’d lived his entire life waiting for her. What if she didn’t share his feelings? What if she didn’t share her grandmother’s moral convictions and was the type to go from one affair to the next?
He gazed at Jacqueline’s straight spine and wondered if she wanted babies. He never had before, but it would be nice to have a miniature Jacqueline to cradle in his arms. How had he gone from wondering what he was feeling to babies?
Link felt like dunking his head in the river’s glacial melt.
27
As Stone landed the Cessna on the desolate road, mixed feelings assailed Jacqueline. Part of her wanted to spend another week on the river, alone with Link and without the stress Capolucho had provided.
Spending a few days with him while Capolucho had followed them had been tempting enough. But the lure had quadrupled since he kissed her. Jacqueline shaded her eyes and watched Linkstone’s Cessna taxi closer. Had the news that she and Link were alone in the wilderness gotten to her grandmother? Probably. But at least she wasn’t sitting next to Stone with a shotgun in her lap.
Did that mean she was pleased, angry or indifferent? Opinionated as her grandmother was, the latter seemed unlikely. Still, her grandmother adored Link and she couldn’t get past the suspicion that she’d been forced into this trip just so she’d fall for him.
Jacqueline glanced at the hard planes of Link’s face and focused on the tension in his jaw. She knew she’d hurt Link's feelings. Jacqueline sighed and remembered the time she had whacked her brother with a baseball bat. Her grandmother had lit into her with a fury. Never mind that Rory was bigger and had swiped her sled.
She looked at the river. She still felt like she was ten years old. She cared deeply for Link, but couldn’t tell him because her future was so uncertain. Even when she’d tried to hint at her feelings, he hadn’t grasped what she meant and she didn’t know how to make him understand how terrified she was of romance and ending up committed to another loveless relationship.
If only she could put her vague sense of insecurity into words and explain that it wasn’t him; it was her and her disillusionment with marriage. But to do so would force her to admit her failure as a wife.
Jacqueline glanced at Link. The melancholy in his beautiful brown eyes tore at her heart. Better to break a possible relationship off before anything happened than to be stuck in another lifetime commitment and make Link miserable.
If Capolucho had been the malevolent man she’d believed, she might not be so confused about Link. How could she trust her character assessment of men when the mysterious one she’d feared actually turned out to be a sweet, meek man and the person she’d admired enough to commit her life to ended up being an emotionless workaholic? When she’d thought her stalker was threatening her life with fire, Capolucho had only been asking for his paintings to be returned.
Whatever passion she’d felt for Adam hadn’t been enduring. What if she discovered the same truth about her feelings for Link?
If breaking contact with Link was the right choice, why did she feel like crying?
The Cessna’s propellers slowed, then stopped. Jacqueline stayed back while Link introduced Capolucho to Stone and told him about their week. Capolucho looked like a different man than the one who had pursued her. Part of it was due to the removal of the stench and excess hair, but his attitude change and the resulting way he held himself made the real difference.
After all their gear was loaded, Stone motioned for her to climb aboard. Moments after she buckled her seat belt, Stone increased the rpms. The plane launched down the road, then leaped into the air.
Jacqueline pressed her forehead against the window and watched the silvery ribbon of the Yukon River recede behind them. The emotions that had been humming inside her took on a dreamlike quality. Once they were above the cloud cover, Jacqueline sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. The next second, Link was shaking her arm. “Wake up.” She opened her eyes and saw him smiling at her.
Warmth flooded through her. When he leaned a fraction closer, her heart pounded with anticipation until she trembled all the way to her toes. It was easy to remember how his lips could make her feel so alive.
“Shake a leg, Link,” Stone hollered.
Link leaned away and stroked her jaw line with the callused pad of his thumb. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he said softly. Then he raised his
voice. “You know, you’ve given Stone a swelled head. No one has ever managed to sleep through one of his crashes, er, landings before.”
“I heard that,” said Stone.
Link gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Do you know that once he even blew out all the tires when he smashed onto the runway just so he could wake Tempest?”
“Really?” Jacqueline asked. “No wonder I passed out. It must have been from acute fear.”
Link laughed.
Stone’s face appeared over Link’s shoulder. His left eyebrow arched so high that it merged with the dark waves over his forehead. “Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t like the curly cues and rolls?”
For a moment Jacqueline wondered what Stone was referring to, then she realized he was teasing. She pretended to shiver. “I didn’t think planes were supposed to fly upside down.”
Stone’s dimples deepened. “Taught you, then, didn’t I?” He ducked back out of the plane, but she could plainly hear his parting statement. “Never met anyone who snored when they passed out.”
Jacqueline lunged after him, but was held in place by her seat belt.
Link laughed. “Relax, you don’t snore.”
“Guess he won that round, huh?”
Link nodded.
Jacqueline unclasped her restraints as Link ducked out the Cessna’s door.
When Link parked in his driveway, Tempest rushed out to greet them. Tempest threw her thin arms around Link as soon as he stepped out of the cab.
“Uncle Link, I missed you so much,” she squealed.
“I missed you, too.” Link ruffled Tempest’s hair. Tempest’s face assumed a look of abject disappointment. It must be frustrating to love a person and not have them love you in the same way.
The next moment, Tempest’s eyes widened and a new, raw emotion filled her expression. Jacqueline looked over her shoulder and saw Capolucho. “Are you the kayak guy? The one that sent her,” Tempest’s thumb jabbed Jacqueline’s stomach, “those weird notes?”
Ray’s face flushed. “I got mixed up.”
“You sure are a weird poet.”
“Tempest,” Ariel warned.
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