by Vella Munn
Chapter Seven
“Sometimes it feels as if I’ve never left.” Kim was staring up at the flag flying over the visitors’ information center. “None of the buildings have changed. This used to be an insurance office, I think. But it was the same color. And the metal hitching post has always been here. I remember…” Kim smiled up at Mark. It was important to her that she share her mood with him. “I used to pretend that I had a horse. I would tie him here. Then I’d walk down the street and back again and get on my steed and we’d gallop off into the sunset. Being a child in this town, it was so good.”
“You sound as if you miss that.”
“Maybe I do a little,” Kim admitted. She linked her arm with Mark’s, using the contact to put behind her the professional he’d been earlier in the evening. Kim felt on shaky ground. She had no way of knowing whether Mark shared her mood, whether he wanted their relationship to change focus. Still, maybe because it was night and she was back in the town of her childhood, she needed to explore the possibility. “I said Camp Oro hasn’t changed, but I think maybe it has. There’s an energy here these days. There aren’t any empty buildings anymore. I like the feeling.”
“So do I. That’s why I agreed to be the city attorney.”
“You’re part of that energy.”
“I take that as a compliment. I care about what happen here.” He was looking down at her, the night sheltering whatever was in his eyes. There was no reason for her to feel this way; certainly she didn’t need a man to protect her. But having Mark touch her was doing things to her she couldn’t deny. Good things.
“You’re good for the town,” she whispered. “You—you’re good for me.”
“We don’t know each other. You don’t know me.”
He was right. “I know you’re a decent man.”
“I hope I can live up to that. Kim, I’m only human.”
“I know that. I’m glad you followed me here,” she said softly. “I like the idea that we see the same things, feel the same things when we look at Camp Oro. There’s something going on between us.”
“Maybe too much.”
“Do you believe that?”
Mark’s lips were on her temple. His hands settled around her waist. “I can’t answer that, Kim,” he told her. “It’s something we need to talk about.”
“Not now. Please,” Kim asked. It had taken all her courage to say what she just had. She wasn’t sure she was ready to go on.
Mark laughed. The sound vibrated through Kim’s body and made it difficult for her to remember anything except his presence. Still she had to try. “When I saw you there tonight—I hardly recognized you.”
“I looked different?”
“Not that. But—” His slate hair was coarse to the touch. “I think I’d forgotten your professional role.”
His professional role. For a moment Mark had been able to forget that, too. The time didn’t last long enough. “That’s why I’m here,” he told her, although that was only part of the story. The rest was being told through his hands and eyes. “Do you understand what I was doing back there?”
“The stand you took? Yes. Mark, this isn’t the first time I’ve been a part of negotiations. I know what’s involved.”
A kiss. They could share that before— “I don’t like the position this places me in,” Mark said softly. “It isn’t what I want to be doing.”
“Mark? We all do things we don’t want to.”
“Yes. We do. Fortunately, when we’re aware of what’s happening, we can balance that out with other things.” Another kiss, this one longer.
“I’d—” Kim tried again. “I don’t want to talk about that tonight. I thought I wanted to be alone after the meeting. All I wanted was to try to sort out my feelings. I don’t feel that way anymore.”
“I’m glad. I guess—” Mark ran a finger from Kim’s temple into her hair. “A lot has happened to you since you got here. I wish it didn’t have to be like that.”
“Mark. When I was five years old, my mother died. She’d been sick a long time. Leaving me inch by inch. This—” Kim waved her hand in the air “—is nothing.”
Mark’s hold tightened. “That, having your mother die, made you strong.”
“If I’m strong, it’s a legacy from her.”
Mark nodded. His gentle smile let Kim know she’d been right in telling him what she had. It did almost as much to her nervous system as his kiss had. Kim waited for him to say more. Instead Mark wrapped his arm over her shoulder and led her away from the silent buildings. A couple of cars passed them on their way home from the meeting. Neither Mark nor Kim acknowledged them.
They were walking around the cave-in now. From a distance they looked like nothing more than close friends with their arms wrapped around each other. When Mark spoke, the words weren’t ones mere friends would share. “Margaret told me about her daughter-in-law, how your mother kept her illness from the family as long as she could. But when she couldn’t anymore, she turned it into the greatest battle of her life. She didn’t cry. She didn’t try to blame anyone.”
“I was very young, Mark.” Kim glanced over at the stretch of dark that was the entrance to the tunnel. She could have asked Mark about the skeleton now, but she didn’t. “I was spared a lot of that. But I knew something bad was happening. My father— My grandmother stepped in during that time and gave me the security I needed. I said I learned strength and courage from my mother. I think maybe I learned even more from my grandmother.”
“Hearing that would make your grandmother proud.”
“I know.” Kim could smile for Mark. “I have told her.”
Mark looked down at the black hole they were slowly circling. “Is your grandmother to blame for the fool stunt you pulled down there?”
“It wasn’t a fool stunt. I faced my fear. Got it out in the open. Put it behind me.”
“That’s really the way you see it?”
“That’s the way I see it,” Kim said with her arm around Mark and his warmth easing through her. “No lectures. I’m not interested in them. Mark, there isn’t much I feel I can’t face head-on. Going down there might not be the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m glad I did. And—nothing bad came out of it.”
Tonight was for forgetting the outside world. For creating emotional bridges. The short trip from the street to where Kim lived proved the perfect transition. Within a few feet of leaving Kim’s stranded car, they entered a shadowed lane with trees and bushes insulating them from everything except a narrow ribbon of night sky. Some people might have been unnerved by the sound of leaves brushing against each other or the quick hoot of an owl, but Mark sensed only peace. A short peace, but peace nonetheless.
Kim Revis, not the night, was responsible for that mood. Days, sometimes weeks passed with Mark being aware of very little except work and a few hours stolen away from that work. He was devoted to his parents, but they lived their own lives unencumbered by the routine of earning a living. Clients, other attorneys, secretaries, police officers, city officials were part of Mark’s world. He moved easily among them but they, like he, were only chess players in a massive, never-ending game. The faces and voices might change as people darted in and out of his life. The treadmill never altered its course.
Until tonight.
As Kim unlocked the door, Mark felt his awareness expand. The shapes in Kim’s living room were sharp and clear. He was aware that the air had a crisp, clear taste. He was even more aware of the way Kim handled her body. She was utterly graceful, a small, self-confident woman moving about the room as if she’d never lived anywhere else. When she turned toward him, he absorbed her slight smile, the way her fingers angled toward her thighs, taut calf muscles altering the line of her slacks.
They hadn’t come here to discuss the council meeting, her job, the future of the hole that held her car prisoner, even her grandmother. They were here, Mark believed, because they didn’t know enough about each other and what he wanted to learn s
hould be accomplished in privacy.
“I haven’t found the mourning jewelry I told you about,” Kim was saying. She was standing near the lamp she’d just turned on. She didn’t move toward Mark and yet he felt her invitation. “I found a picture of it, though. In a scrapbook. I think my father took it. Would you like to see it?”
Although he didn’t, Mark nodded. The photograph was faded and a little out of focus. It showed the rose-shaped pin against a backdrop of velvet. Kim was right. The jet stone was unique. “Where have you looked?” he asked.
“Everywhere. I wonder if Grandmother put it somewhere. I keep thinking I should ask her, but if she hasn’t…if it’s lost…”
“Maybe it isn’t that important to her.”
“Maybe. She called me this evening. She was asking questions about my job. Some of the questions didn’t make much sense. Mark, how did you become her lawyer?”
Mark chuckled. “I’d just started practicing. Something came up that put me on the opposite side of the fence from Harden. Your grandmother liked the way I handled myself.”
“That sounds like her.” Kim started to stretch. For a moment she felt light-headed. She reached for Mark.
“Are you all right?” Mark asked, with Kim soft and warm in his arms.
“Fine. I just got a little dizzy.”
“It’s been a long day for you. Both emotionally and physically.”
“I’m used to long days. So are you.”
“Yes.” He couldn’t release her. Neither could he simply go on doing what he was. The man who could face a hostile witness without a qualm had no idea what to do with his hands. “Kim? What do we do now?”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you?” Mark cupped Kim’s chin in his palm so that she was looking up into his eyes.
“Yes.” The word was almost inaudible.
“What do you want from me?”
Mark should have never been a lawyer. If he had been a longshoreman or a logger, he wouldn’t have asked that question, and she wouldn’t have had to answer it. Kim could deal with reality; she prided herself in her ability to do just that. But this was a question she’d never been asked before. Her body knew the answer. Her heart was hesitant. “I don’t know,” she started. That wasn’t enough. He had to have more. “We’re together. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“It doesn’t tell me enough. Kim, there’s something I have to say. I’m only going to say it once, but it’s important that you understand.”
With her hands touching Mark’s waist, Kim waited.
“This is the lawyer in me talking. I want to be with you. When you were talking about growing up in Camp Oro I felt as if I’d shared that with you. But I didn’t. We have an appreciation of this town in common, but that might be the only thing. If you come to that decision, I want you to let me know.”
This was insane. They were discussing taking their relationship another step as if this was an automobile they were trying to make up their mind about. Kim couldn’t treat what was more emotion than logic that way. “I’m glad you’re here tonight.”
“Is that all?”
“I think, for now, yes.”
Mark stood where he was for perhaps five seconds and then drew Kim against him. One moment she felt powerful against him; the next she’d turned soft and fragile. The split fascinated him as did everything about Kim Revis. She’d worn a summer-weight sweater in pale yellow. The fabric moved easily under Mark’s fingers but kept her flesh from his searching fingers.
They kissed. They touched. They murmured things outsiders would never hear. Kim felt herself growing lighter as if whatever lived and breathed within her had taken leave of her body. She was aware of what Mark’s hands and body were doing to her, and yet that part of her remained separated from thought and emotion.
There was need; yes, there was need. There was the desire to give herself to this man, to share and explore. If Kim had been younger and more innocent, she would have let those emotions dictate her actions. But she was no longer a girl. She was a woman, and no matter how much she might rebel against what she’d become, that woman ruled her.
This had to be right between her and Mark. When and if they took that step toward intimacy, there would be no going back. There would be no pretending that the greatest act of sharing hadn’t taken place.
When the time was right Kim would want Mark to make love to her. But not tonight. Not when there was still too much emotion and not enough logic. Not until she’d come to terms with what he was capable of doing to her self-control.
“I don’t think—”
“You don’t want?”
“Oh, yes. I want. But Mark—” She was still clinging to him. She couldn’t let go of him yet. “I’m afraid I want too much. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Mark didn’t want to understand. With all his heart, he wanted freedom from responsibilities and promises. He wanted to spend the night with this wise, gentle witch. But if he allowed that to happen, Mark wasn’t sure what would be left of him. “You want me to leave?”
“No.” Kim gripped Mark tighter. Even as she spoke, she pressed against him, taking what she would need to get her through the night. “I don’t want you to leave. But—” Angry at herself for the confused messages she was giving both of them, Kim pulled back. She stood alone, feeling starved. “You scare me. I scare me.”
That Mark understood. “It’s powerful, isn’t it?”
“Too powerful. I don’t want it to be like this. I want…Mark, I don’t know what I want.”
He could touch her. He could give her one last kiss before leaving. One last embrace. “You’re going to the museum tomorrow?”
“I have to.”
“Let me know when you’re going there.”
“Mark.” She was holding on to him and turning him half crazy. “I have to handle this myself.”
Mark didn’t want to walk past the cave-in. The mocking blackness wouldn’t let him forget what stood between him and Kim Revis. It was ironic somehow. He’d walked out of her house feeling the promise of what might be and the wisdom of not jumping into something they couldn’t retreat from. Although he wasn’t comfortable with his body and wouldn’t be for hours, Mark had felt he’d done what was right. Until he came to the barriers placed by the public-works crew and what lay beyond reminded him. There was no hiding from doubts and questions. From knowing he should have never come here.
It was too late. He’d begun a journey with Kim. He couldn’t do anything but continue the journey, even if it all blew up in his face.
Kim didn’t bother with a light. Needing the anonymity of night, she slipped out of her clothes and reached for her nightgown. The strength had gone out of her legs. She sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned forward, resting her head in her hands, breathing deeply until she was capable of facing the scope of her emotions. Her body ached with the need for what it had been denied. Her heart still thudded uneasily. Still, she didn’t regret sending Mark away.
Unless something she couldn’t possibly foresee sprang up between them, the time would come when things would be right. When that happened, Kim would give Mark a great deal. Her heart had already begun a journey it had never been on before.
Kim leaned back. Her hand brushed against the clothes she’d left there earlier in the day. Without thinking of what she was doing, Kim felt in the pocket for the object she’d put there. She held the small, solid weight in her hand, absently running her fingers over the rough surface.
At length she got up and turned on the lamp at the head of her bed. The handle was bone. She thought there was a tiny carving on the once-white surface, perhaps something to identify its owner, but the years had made their impact, erasing whatever its owner had done to it. The blade was badly rusted and resisted Kim’s efforts to open it completely.
She should have told Mark about this. They could have shared speculations about its source, and maybe Kim would better understand Mark
’s reaction to the skeleton. She could understand revulsion. Certainly, she’d felt a moment of that herself. But Mark wasn’t a man to turn from what was grim.
Maybe—Kim dropped the knife into the palm of her right hand, feeling its weight—maybe she should turn it over to the sheriff. As soon as the thought surfaced, Kim dismissed it. She was an historian. She wanted to research the knife’s history herself.
Kim’s first action, once she was out of the shower the next morning, was to call her grandmother. “So much happened last night,” she began. She had wanted to keep the news about the problems the cave-in could cause to selling the house from her grandmother, but better the story come from her than a newspaper. “You wouldn’t believe what that Harden man is trying to force on the council. You were talking about our getting together for dinner? I’d like to try for tonight. That way I can explain what happened.”
“I’d love that, my dear. What do you have to do today?”
Kim had to think for a moment. “More meetings at the museum. I’m afraid it isn’t very exciting.”
Margaret’s sigh was a little too close to a groan. “I’ll be so glad when you’re out of that musty place. Call me this afternoon, dear. We’ll make our plans then.”
Although she wanted her next call to be to Mark, Kim forced herself to attend to business. When she called the museum to make sure it wouldn’t be a wasted trip, Rogan Coffers answered the phone. She started to ask if he’d come across the building’s blueprints when he cut her off. “Forget the blueprints. All hell’s breaking loose here this morning.”
Kim tried to get more out of the director, but he repeated his contention that he couldn’t possibly deal with her mundane request right now. In the background she could hear an excited conversation. “You’ll be there?” Kim managed to get in.
