You Must Remember This

by Clara Wimberly

  “It’s lovely. You look like a. breath of summer. I guess I’m just…surprised to see you here.”

  Sarah pursed her lips and gave Lacy a look of pure in- nocence that caused both of them to laugh.

  “But I’m delighted.” Lacy stepped forward and em- braced her friend. “Why don’t we take in a movie one night, now that you’re venturing out in the world?”

  “I’d love to,” Sarah said. In three days she’d be search- ing for something to do, and something to keep her mind off the man who would be gone from her house.

  “I’ll call you,” Lacy said.

  Sarah paid for her groceries and hurried out of the store. Before anyone else saw her. And before Lacy saw her driving her grandmother’s old Buick and wondered why.

  Driving home, she was no more than five miles from the farmhouse when she noticed a truck parked off the side of the road beneath a stand of trees. There was a man sitting behind the wheel and as she passed, she thought he seemed to be sleeping.

  But something about the man and the truck caused an alarm to ring in her head. And a few moments later when she glanced in the rearview mirror, the truck was pulling out of the isolated road and falling in behind her.

  She could feel her heart begin to pound in her throat.

  “Keep calm,” she whispered. “It’s nothing…just a coincidence.”

  She took her foot off the accelerator and let the lum- bering old car slow down, hoping the truck would pass. When it didn’t, she reached beneath the seat, pulling the gun out that Hagan had insisted she bring, and laying it on the seat beside her.

  “Please, please, please,” she whispered, watching the pickup in her mirror. “Just go around.”

  Finally she was at the farmhouse, and for a moment she didn’t know what to do. Should she turn in and ‘risk in- volving Hagan in a confrontation or should she just keep on driving?

  Instinctively she turned the wheel, feeling the crunch of gravel as she turned into the driveway. She did feel braver in familiar territory. And infinitely safer, knowing Hagan was only a few feet away.

  She thought her heart would burst right through her chest. But when she looked in the mirror and saw the truck drive on past, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief and put her head down on the steering wheel.

  “Dear God,” she whispered. “I’m becoming such a scaredy-cat.”

  She glanced up at the house and saw the slight flicker of a curtain. She knew it was Hagan and for a moment she was afraid he would come out to see what was wrong. She didn’t want that…he shouldn’t be outside at all. She hurried out of the car and into the house. She’d bring the groceries in later.

  He met her at the door and pulled her inside.

  “What is it?” he asked, his fingers digging into her arm. “Why were you sitting in the car like that?” He reached up and pulled the hat off her head, tossing it aside on the floor and running his hand over her face as if to make sure she was all right.

  “I…it’s nothing,” she whispered, staring wide-eyed into his questioning eyes. “Imagination.” That word, the one Joe always used half jokingly about his suspicions, made her shiver.

  “Don’t lie to me, darlin’,” he said. “Keeping some- thing from me could be dangerous for us both.”

  Of course, he was right. He was the expert where these matters were concerned. And it was his life that was on the line here.

  “Really, it’s probably nothing,” she said. She looked around and out the window. “There was a truck. I saw it on a side road a few miles back and it pulled out behind me. For a while I thought he was following me, but when I pulled into the driveway, he went on past.”

  “Was it anyone you know?” he asked. “A truck you’ve seen in the area, maybe?”

  “Lord, there are a lot of trucks in this county,” she said, looking troubled. “I didn’t recognize it, but that hardly means anything.”

  “You’re shaking,” he said, running his hands down her arms.

  “I’m fine. Really I am. When the truck wouldn’t pass, I put the gun you gave me on the seat. It’s amazing how much more secure I felt.” She smiled at him, hoping to al- lay his fears, and hoping to convince herself that every- thing was fine.

  He sighed and closed his eyes. Stepping back, he re- leased her.

  “God, woman, you’re going to give me a heart attack before this thing is over.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, grinning girlishly at him. Now that the incident was over, she felt foolish and a little silly.

  “I’ll bring in the groceries. Why don’t you unwrap the steak in the kitchen. It’ll give you something to worry about besides me.”

  He shook his head at her, but when he turned to go, she thought there was a little smile tugging at his lips.

  Cord called a few minutes later and Sarah heard Hagan telling him about the truck that had followed her.

  “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye open,” Hagan said into the phone. His gaze moved toward Sarah more than once. “No…I haven’t remembered anything else. How about you? Finding anything?”

  “What did he say?” she asked when Hagan hung up.

  “He’s uncovered one man, an ex-member of the gun- runner group, who swears the sheriff used to belong to the Satilla organization.”

  “You’re kidding,” Sarah said. She remembered the sheriff’s odd words about citizens needing to be armed for their own protection. It should have struck a chord of warning since it was the Satilla group’s same credo. But even now, hearing Hagan say the words, she could hardly believe it.

  “Problem is, this man and the sheriff are not exactly friends and we can’t be sure he isn’t just saying this for re- venge. He also says he’s afraid and Cord is trying to gain his confidence and convince him he’ll be protected.”

  “And will he?”

  Hagan shrugged. “I hope so.”

  She could see that Hagan didn’t want to talk about the details and though she was curious, she didn’t push him.

  Sarah wasn’t sure how they managed to make it through supper. It helped, she thought, that the steaks were deli- cious and her salad fresh and crisp. Both of them were able to keep up the pretense, through the meal at least.

  But later, after the dishes were done and when the si- lence between them turned awkward, Sarah excused her- self.

  “I think I’ll go to bed,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Maybe read awhile. I’m fired and—”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

  It was well past midnight when Sarah finally drifted off to sleep, even though she tossed restlessly and kicked at the sheets. She wasn’t sure if the noise she heard was a dream and she was so tired that it seemed to take forever to come fully awake.

  She sat up in bed, listening. Had it been a dream? Or was it Hagan?

  She heard the noise again, loud this time and some- where definitely near the house.

  She bolted from bed, going into the hallway without bothering to grab a robe or turn on a light.

  Hagan was already there in the darkness. She thought she saw the pistol silhouetted in his hand and she shiv- ered.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  She felt his arm go around her waist as he pulled her against him and whispered into her ear.

  “Go into the breezeway,” he demanded, his voice husky with sleep. “If you hear anything, you get the hell out the back and run as fast as you can. Even if you don’t hear anything, if I’m not back in five minutes, you get out. You understand?”

  “Hagan…no,” she whispered. “You’re still not well. Call Cord—he can—”

  “Don’t argue,” he snapped. “Just do as I say. This will be over before Cord can get his clothes on.”

  That last fatalistic statement made Sarah tremble and it echoed over and over in her mind as she made her way in the darkness to the kitchen. She glanced over her shoul- der one last time before opening the door.

  The hallway was empty and the front door stood open. Hagan had slipped outs
ide without a sound.

  Chapter 11

  Sarah stood huddled in the breezeway, peering through the screen and trying to see into the darkness. After a few moments she became more and more aware of an eerie si- lence surrounding the house. There was only the distant sound of tree frogs and the long, low hoot of an owl somewhere in the swamp.

  How benign the normal night sounds were, when some- one she cared about could be in terrible danger. Sarah felt as helpless as she ever had in her entire life.

  The waiting seemed to take an eternity. She was sure it had been longer than five minutes, but still she couldn’t move. Couldn’t make herself slip out the back door as Hagan had ordered her to do.

  She couldn’t leave him here alone, to face whatever had made the noise. How could he think she might?

  Slowly she began inching back along the dark breeze- way toward the back door. She’d find a knife…any thing.

  She had barely stepped into the kitchen when she saw the outline of a man’s form in the darkness. Her scream was immediate and instinctive.

  She felt his hands on her, felt him pulling her around so that her back was against his chest. His hand went over her mouth. But it was gentle and caressing.

  “It’s just me, darlin’,” Hagan drawled, his mouth against her ear. “Relax…it’s just me.”

  Sarah went limp. Then she whirled around in his arms as if she might hit him. She heard his intake of breath as she slammed unintentionally against his sore ribs.

  “Dear Lord,” she muttered. “You’re going to scare the life out of me—do you know that? Can’t you just come into the room like a normal person and say, hey, it’s me…Hagan?”

  She was shaking with fury and frustration.

  She heard his soft grunt of laughter just before he stepped across the kitchen to turn on the light.

  “Here’s our culprit,” Hagan said.

  There in the hallway, looking as if he might spring at both of them, was Tom. His fur was ruffled, his eyes wide with fear and distrust as he crouched, ready to pounce.

  “You know this cat?” Hagan asked, his voice filled with mischief.

  “It’s Tom,” she murmured. “And he hates being in the house, as you can see.”

  Hagan’s gaze shifted toward Sarah, from where her pink toenails peeked beneath the long white gown, to the lacy bodice that barely covered her lovely breasts.

  “So this is old Tom,” Hagan said, trying to shake away the image of her. He took a step closer to the cat and it sprang away from him down the hall to the front door. “Not a very original name.”

  “Well, I never had a cat before. I don’t know anything about cat names.”

  “He’s definitely too belligerent for the name Tom. He was fighting like a tiger outside—that’s the noise we heard. They knocked over a planter on the front porch.” Hagan stared at the frightened cat. “Hey…” he said, looking at her with a questioning smile. “Tiger…now there’s a solid, masculine name.”

  “No,” Sarah said. “His name is Tom. Besides, he’s so independent he probably wouldn’t come to you, no mat- ter what name you call him. He has a mind of his own.” She gave a little huff of disbelief. “Do you realize how ri- diculous this is? I’ve just been scared out of my wits, hid- ing in the breezeway, expecting to have to run for my life. You went outside with a gun. And now, two minutes later, we’re talking about the proper name for a silly cat that doesn’t like belonging to anyone.”

  Sarah glanced at Tom who was still huddled by the front door. In the dim lights, his eyes were dull and yellow.

  “He wants out.”

  “How can you be sure? Maybe he likes being warm,” Hagan teased. “Maybe he’d like to sleep in your bed to- night…where it’s cozy and safe.”

  Sarah turned to look into Hagan’s eyes. For all the teasing quality in his voice, the look in his eyes was dead serious. The glint she saw there almost made her blush.

  “I told you,” she said. “He’s just an alley cat. He doesn’t know anything about hearth and home.”

  “He could learn.” Hagan looked at the cat then back at Sarah. “Maybe he’s just misunderstood. Maybe he just needs a little TLC. Who knows, he might learn to like do- mestication.”

  How had the conversation suddenly changed? And why did Sarah have the distinct idea that they were no longer talking about the cat?

  “For a while maybe.” Sarah said quietly. “But sooner or later he’d grow tired of the dull peaceful life. Just when I’d begin to get used to him, I might wake up and he’d be gone.”

  She walked to the door and opened it. Tom ran so quickly that he was only a blur going out into the dark.

  “Why would any sane cat do that?” Hagan asked, gaz- ing toward the door. He had moved a step closer to Sarah, his eyes dark and searching. “Why would he go back to the swamp with all its dangers when he had you to come home to?”

  “Maybe he likes danger,” Sarah whispered. “Maybe it’s in his blood and he can’t ever change.”

  “Oh, but I’ve heard that love can change anything.” Hagan stepped closer still, his movement stealthy and graceful—not unlike a great, cautious tiger.

  “Cats…cats don’t know anything about love,” she answered, her breath coming in little gasps. He was so close she could feel the heat of his body against her bare skin. “It’s all in the chase and the conquering. It’s in- stinctive. They only want what they can find for one night.”

  He reached out and placed one finger under the strap of her gown, running it downward and stopping just at the top of the lace.

  “Is that so terrible?” he whispered. “One exciting, heart-stopping night?”

  Sarah was finding it difficult to breathe, let alone speak.

  “People need more than that,” she managed to say fi- nally. “They need…”

  “What?” he urged. “What do people need, Sarah? What do you need?”

  “Permanence,” she said. She took a deep breath and looked straight into his eyes. “Commitment. And love.”

  Hagan recognized the look in Sarah’s eyes. But that hint of surrender he’d seen there earlier was tempered by something else—by a reluctance that he understood all too well. And he knew she was waiting to hear his answer.

  “Then I guess I’m a lot more like old Tom than I thought,” he said. “I never knew what love was when I was growing up. Who knows…maybe I still don’t. Maybe I’m the kind of man who’s incapable of love.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she said. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the male scent of him, swaying toward him hypnotically before opening her eyes again.

  He looked deep into her troubled blue eyes.

  “To be honest, I doubt I would recognize love if it hit me in the face. A woman would have to realize that about me, I guess.”

  “A woman would be a fool to love someone who felt that way, wouldn’t she?” Sarah asked.

  “Absolutely crazy,” he agreed, his voice soft and hyp- notic. Pulling her closer.

  She wanted him. God, she had never wanted anything so badly in all her life. Her body was melting, burning with her need to have him touch her, kiss her the way he had before.

  Sarah bit her lip and her dark lashes lowered, hiding her eyes from him. He read her emotions all too easily. And she hated for him to see just how weak she was where he was concerned.

  She had sworn she wouldn’t accept anything less than love and commitment. But now, with her body aching for him, she wasn’t so certain about that anymore.

  Hagan saw the look in her liquid eyes. There was genu- ine fear there and it shook him out of his teasing manner.

  This wasn’t a game he was playing. Sarah deserved more than games. Alley cat games. He’d known that about her all along and he couldn’t pretend anything had changed just because his body ached to make love to her.

  “And what about you, Sarah? Have you ever felt just a little crazy?” he whispered, his voice soft, his breath brushing against her lips.


  “Absolutely…crazy…” Sarah moaned and leaned to- ward him.

  He reached out and wound his fingers into her hair, pulling her head forward.

  “Have you ever found yourself wanting something so badly that-?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Just on the edge of doing something that you know you’re going to regret later?”

  “Oh, yes.” The word came out in one long sigh, one quietly whispered rush. Her hands moved to his chest and she found herself leaning against him. He was making her crazy and he knew it. She could feel her insides quivering with emotion. And with something she recognized in- stantly as pure, undeniable lust.

  “God…Hagan,” she breathed. “If you don’t…”

  “What, darlin’?” he whispered, moving close, pulling her body tight against his.

  “…shut up and—”

  His mouth cut off the rest of her words. The teasing, the tenderness vanished as soon as she felt his lips on hers. They had waited too long, teased too often for that. Now there was only a hot, aching need racing through both of them.

  The heat of his body scorched right through the fabric of her nightgown, melding their bodies together and mak- ing her gasp with the pure sensuality of it.

  After a long year without love, Sarah’s body had come alive with tingling pleasure.

  Hagan pulled his mouth away from hers and Sarah cried out a soft protest.

  Still looking into her eyes, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he kicked open the door and carried her inside.

  “I should ask if you’re sure about this,” he said, his voice husky with emotion.

  “Don’t ask…” she groaned.

  When she reached up to kiss him, her mouth was hot and sweet. Urgent. And that final kiss broke through any conscience he might have had about what he was doing.

  He stood her on her feet and slipped the gown over her head. Slowly his hands and eyes moved over her body as she trembled before him. When he bent his head and trailed kisses down to her breasts, Sarah leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her fingers grasped his hair to steady herself.