by Jolie Cain
* * * *
Abby was awakened by the smell of coffee brewing. She turned over, her lashes fluttering open once, twice. Disoriented, she sat up and looked around the room. Where on earth—then the events of the previous night came pouring back. Bear. Bear was missing and there was some lunatic out there stalking her. She rose from the bed and dressed.
The odor of frying bacon drew her to the kitchen, and Abby realized just how hungry she was when her stomach let out a loud growl. Jack stood with his back to the door but turned when he heard her footsteps. “Morning, sunshine."
Looking good enough to eat himself, in a pair of worn jeans and a plain white t-shirt, he gestured with the spatula he held in his hand. “Go sit down, and I'll fill your plate for you.” He placed her food and a cup of coffee in front of her and then joined her with his own. She took a bite of eggs before stealing a quick glance at Jack. Catching her questioning look, he shook his head. “I haven't gone looking yet. As soon as we finish breakfast, we'll head out. Okay?"
She nodded in agreement. He reached across the table stroke her cheek. “We'll find him. I promise."
Thirty minutes later, they set out. They took a circuitous route through the surrounding woods, trying not to go over areas they had already searched the night before. “Bear? Here, boy. Come here,” Abby called repeatedly. Her throat was beginning to get hoarse after two hours of repeating the same phrase again and again. So far, they hadn't seen or heard anything.
Jack walked beside her, his long stride adjusted to match her shorter one. When she stumbled over a fallen branch, he reached out a hand to halt her. “Why don't we sit down and take a break?"
Abby opened her mouth to protest, but then she stopped. He was right. Nothing was going to be accomplished by driving themselves to the point of collapse. “Okay.” She dropped tiredly beside a log, resting her back against the rough bark that pricked through the cotton of her shirt.
"Tired?” he asked.
"Yes. I must be more out of shape than I thought I was."
His mouth quirked in amusement at her statement and his eyebrows rose up with devilment. “I don't see anything wrong with your shape."
Abby's eyes widened, and she turned to stare up at him. “Are you flirting with me?"
"I guess I am.” He quirked his lip up in a lopsided grin.
"Well, well, well, will wonders never cease? I think...” Before she could finish her comment, she thought she heard a noise. “Jack, did you..."
Jack was already on his feet. He nodded. “Yes, I heard it. This way."
Moving toward the odd sound, Jack led Abby through the thick undergrowth. As they rounded a tree, they saw Bear. He was lying down, a pool of blood soaked into the ground at his side. Abby rushed toward him, but Jack held her back. “Stop, Abby. He's hurt. No telling how he's going to react."
She knew he was right, so she stayed back as he carefully approached Bear. The dog was very weak and barely conscious. Jack bent down beside him and reached out a hand to examine the wound in his back leg. Bear whimpered but made no attempt to bite Jack, so he motioned for Abby to come closer. She knelt near the retriever's head and ran her hand across his soft neck.
"It's gonna be okay, Bear. You'll be just fine. We've got you now.” Abby blinked tears from her eyes as Bear attempted to raise his head and lick her hand.
"Move over, Abby,” Jack ordered. Then he maneuvered his hands beneath Bear and picked him up, adjusting the dog's 60-pound weight as comfortably as he could in his arms. “Let's go to the truck. We've got to get him to a vet. I think he's been shot."
They headed back as fast as they could, with Abby leading the way and clearing a path ahead for Jack and his burden the best she could. Pausing only to allow Jack a few moments to rest, it still took them quite a while to reach the cabin. When the clearing came in sight, Abby rushed forward to open the door to the Jeep. Jack laid Bear across the back seat.
Within minutes, they were heading down the winding mountain road. Abby kept her eye on Bear, wincing with every bounce the Jeep made. Bear lay very still, and Abby was worried that they hadn't made it in time. When they reached the main road, Jack sped up, and in record time, he had parked his Jeep in front of the vet's office. Moments later, they had Bear inside being examined by the veterinarian while Jack and Abby waited impatiently for news.
As they sat side by side in the stiff plastic chairs, Jack reached out and took Abby's hand in his own, squeezing it comfortingly. Bear had lain all night long with the gunshot wound in his leg. Would he make it? It seemed like an eternity before the doctor came out.
"How is Bear? Is he going to be all right?” Abby rushed into speech, not wanting to wait another moment.
The doctor smiled at her. “I believe Bear will be fine, Miss Montgomery. He's a very lucky dog. The bullet was not lodged in his body. Apparently it hit him in the back right leg, passing through some muscle mass and then out again. He still lost a good deal of blood,” he added in warning, when Abby took in a relieved breath. “He's not out of the woods yet, but I think he's going to make a full recovery He's a fighter, and that's always a good thing. I'd like to keep him here for a few days to keep a close eye on him and build his strength back up."
Abby burst into tears, and Jack shook the vet's hands. “Thanks so much, Dr. Fisher. You don't know how relieved we are."
The doctor smiled. “I just wish my news were always this good. If you'd like to, you can come back and see him for a few minutes. He's just now coming out of the anesthesia, but he'll recognize you, and I'm sure he'll be glad to know you're here."
Abby and Jack went back to check on Bear and, after making arrangements with the vet for Bear's continued care, they left the building.
They walked down to the sheriff's office to tell Sheriff Tyrell about this latest incident. His concern was obvious. “Well, I have a little information for you, but not as much as I'd like, I'm afraid. Scotty Davenport has not been seen in Gulf Shores since last week, around the time you said you left, Miss Montgomery. It's possible that he followed you here, and that's how he knows where you are. Of course, just because no one has seen him in Gulf Shores doesn't necessarily mean that he's here in Stone Hill. Fact is, I've checked around town, and no one matching Mr. Davenport's description has been seen by anyone. And no single males have checked in to the Azalea Inn. The only new people been around town are a young newlywed couple name of Hammonds and a fancy lady who's car broke down on her way to Memphis. Elvis fan. We get a lot of them around here on their way to Graceland."
Abby turned to Jack in disappointment and clasped his hand. “That's not that strange, Bill. He could be staying in another town and driving over. Or camping in the woods somewhere. Just because no one's seen him, doesn't mean that he isn't around."
"Now, that's a fact. There are so many back roads and trails around here that it wouldn't be hard to avoid being seen, if that's what you wanted."
"Is there anything else you can do, Sheriff?” asked Abby.
"Well, I'll have my deputies patrol out in your direction more, and they'll keep a sharp eye out for anything suspicious looking."
With that promise Jack and Abby had to be content.
* * * *
The next day found Jack and Abby on their way back down the mountain and into Stone Hill. Their first stop was the vet, where they checked on Bear's progress. He was looking a lot better, sitting up and nuzzling against Abby's jean-clad leg as she knelt down to pet him. After talking with the vet, they arranged to pick up Bear the next day.
Their next stop was the sheriff's office. Sheriff Tyrell was seated at his desk and motioned for them to come on in.
"Sit down, sit down,” said the sheriff. Jack and Abby complied, and the sheriff took a file out of his drawer and opened it. After reading over the information, he looked up at them. “Anything else happen since we spoke yesterday?” he inquired.
"No, Sheriff,” Abby answered. “Nothing else, thank goodness."
"Good. I've
been trying to find some more out about our suspect, but there's nothing on Scotty Davenport. Not even a speeding ticket. Are you sure it's him, Miss Montgomery? Could it be someone else with a grudge against you?"
"I don't know of anyone else it could be. But I'm a writer, and sometimes we attract some crazy fans. Especially with the kind of books I write."
"What kind of books are we talking about here?"
"I write horror stories under the pen name A.J. Montgomery. You know the stuff—science experiments gone awry, possessed cats, psychic powers, that sort of thing."
"Well, now, that would attract an oddball or two, I'm thinking. Who would know if you'd gotten any weird fan mail or hate letters, that kind of thing?"
"Oh, that would be my agent. I'll give you her number. I'm sure she'll have anything unusual on file. I'll call her and let her know what's going on."
"Thanks. I'll get in touch with her as soon as possible. Well, that's it,” he pushed his chair back and stood. “If anything else happens or you see anyone suspicious, you let us know. I'll have my deputies patrol past Jack's place every few hours, just to keep an eye out."
Abby stood, also, and held out her hand. As she shook the sheriff's hand, she said, “Sheriff, I do appreciate all you've done. I know that you don't have much to go on, and you're taking a lot on my word alone. I want to thank you."
"You're welcome, little lady. I know it's not much, but we'll keep our eyes open for you."
Jack reached out and shook Bill's hand. “Yes, Bill. Thanks. Look, I also wanted to let you know that I've decided to call in a friend of mine who's a private investigator. Name's Clay Gentry. He's from Atlanta."
The sheriff met his gaze head on. “That's not a bad idea, Jack. Not a bad idea at all. My hands are tied to a certain degree, and my deputies have a lot of miles they have to patrol. But a private eye will be able to do a sight more investigating than I can do myself and stick a lot closer to hand."
"Yes, that's what I thought. I'll have him come by and talk to you as soon as he gets in to town. Thanks, again, Bill."
They exited the building together, then strolled down the street toward Lila's. After Abby called and spoke to her agent about what was going on, she walked across the room to sit at a table while Jack used the phone to call Clay. Once they had placed their order for lunch and the waitress had departed, Jack told Abby what Clay had said.
"He'll be here tomorrow, as early as possible. He said that he didn't like the sound of this Scotty Davenport guy. I didn't give him all the details yet, but I'll fill him in completely when he gets here."
"How well do you know Clay?"
"Pretty well. We've been friends for a while now.” He didn't want to tell Abby just how well he knew Clay, at least not yet. The two of them had similar sexual tastes, including one time when they had shared a woman. The thought of sharing Abby with Clay intrigued him. Would she be willing to do it? Would he want to share her in that way? Yes, he would. Just thinking about it made him hot. He knew that she was pretty inexperienced, but she had been an enthusiastic participant in all that they had done so far. How much more would she be willing to try? Just the thought of her body writhing in ecstasy between Clay and him had him hard as a rock. Yes, he would have to see if he could coax his little angel into experimenting with a ménage a trois.
* * * *
For the rest of the afternoon, Abby sat at Jack's kitchen table and tried to write the next chapter of her book. Occasionally she would glance out the window to where she could see Jack as he worked on the bookshelf. He had pulled it outside to stain it, and she enjoyed the sight of his broad muscles flexing beneath the tight navy t-shirt as he worked the rag over and over on the wood. It reminded her of how those hands felt on her body as he brought her to ecstasy time after time. Shaking her head at her foolish daydreams, she focused on the page in front of her and was soon immersed in the action of her story.
About an hour later, a loud thump from the front porch caught her attention just as she was typing the final sentence of the scene she was working on. What in the world? She stood and walked to the front door, hesitating before grasping the handle and opening it. At first, she could see nothing, so she walked forward a step or two.
She let out a piercing scream, which brought Jack running. She just pointed to the limp body of a dead raccoon lying on the ground near the steps. Its throat had been cut and, the dismembered head lay on the porch next to Abby's foot, blood splattered across the door. He rushed to her and led her back into the cabin, closing and locking the door behind them.
"It was horrible, Jack. Did you see it?” Abby felt faint as she faced him. “My God, what kind of monster is he? What kind of person would so such a thing?” The pitch of her voice climbed higher and higher, edging toward hysteria.
Jack clutched her shoulders and shook her. “Calm down, Abby. You've got to keep your head. Don't let him do this to you."
She knew he was right and took several deep breaths. When she felt like she had herself under control, she said, “Okay. You're right. I'm fine."
He looked deeply into her eyes, and what he saw must have reassured him. “All right. I'm going to go out and look around."
"No, Jack. Don't go out there. What if he's still here?"
"I'll be fine, Abby."
Jack opened the closet and reached up to get a shoebox that was sitting on the shelf. He lifted the lid and pulled out a pistol. Abby's eyes widened when she saw him check it for bullets before tucking it into the back of his jeans, but she said nothing. After cautioning Abby to stay inside and lock the door, he went out, and Abby watched him through the window as he methodically searched the area around the cabin. Abby waited impatiently as Jack examined the bloody corpse of the animal before lifting it onto a shovel and carrying it out of sight around the side of the building. When he came back, Abby unlocked the door and stepped back, allowing him to enter.
"Whoever it was is gone now,” he assured her. Jack crossed to the kitchen and washed his hands in the sink, looking out the window with narrowed eyes. Abby walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his strong back. He dried his hands on a dishtowel and then reached down to cover her hands with his.
"I'm so glad you're here with me, Jack.” Abby murmured against him, her hands tightening.
"I'm not going anywhere, baby.” He turned to face her, dragging her against his body with a tug and pressing her face against his neck.
Abby pulled away and turned her back to him, taking a few steps across the room. “Maybe you should. Or maybe I should. Maybe it would be better if I went away somewhere so that this kook would leave you alone. That way you'd be safe. Who knows what he's going to do next?” She looked back at him over her shoulder. “I'd die if anything happened to you because of me.” She couldn't control the fear and worry in her voice.
He crossed to her and grabbed her arm so that she turned to face him. “Are you insane? You're not going anywhere. My God, how do you think I would feel if you left me? If you went away and I couldn't protect you from this idiot?” He shook her. “Don't you know you're the most important thing in the world to me? We are in this together. We are in everything together. I love you. You're mine, and what's mine, I protect. Do not even think about leaving without me. Do you understand?"
Abby tried unsuccessfully to blink back the tears that threatened to brim over. Unable to speak, she nodded, and he tugged her tightly against him. “Go ahead, baby. Cry. God knows you deserve it. But once you're done, I expect to see my little fighter back in action.” He whispered against her hair as great gasping sobs came from her. They stood there for several minutes, with Abby's sobs gradually quieting to little whimpers.
She looked up at Jack, her face wet and her eyes swollen from her tears. She wiped a hand across her face. “God, I've turned into such a crybaby. I've always hated women who cried at the drop of a hat, and now look at me.” Reaching up a hand she stroked across his cheek and managed a weak
but genuine smile. “You're right, Jack. We're in this together. Forever."
He leaned down to press gentle kisses on each eyelid and her trembling mouth. Her lips parted and his tongue slid between her teeth to caress the inside of her mouth, and her tongue rubbed against his in sweet surrender. His large hands rubbed soothingly over her shoulders and down her back, kneading and pressing their way to her bottom. With a sure touch, he curved her hips into his, molding her body to the hard contours of his own.
When the kiss ended, they walked hand in hand down the hall to his bedroom. He released her and stepped away, his hands going to the buttons of his shirt. As he pushed the first button free, she licked her lips and then she, too, began removing her clothes. Neither said a word. In moments, they were both naked and lying on the bed. He reached out a hand to gently cup her swollen breast, rasping his thumb across the already pouting tip.
Abby was caught up in the tenderness of his touch. So different from their other encounters, this moment would be forever etched in her mind. She felt as if they were pledging themselves to one another more surely than any wedding vows. Those were for later, for family and friends. But this moment was for the two of them, merging their lives and bodies into one.
His lips caught hers, tongues tangling together, exploring and arousing. She put her hands on his shoulders and urged him over her, spreading her legs as he settled between them. His skin felt so hot against her wandering hands and his muscles moved against her fingertips, rising to meet their touch. Trailing down his back to his firm buttocks, her hands clutched him closer. When the head of his cock nudged against her opening, she spread her legs wider, and he pushed slowly inside, filling her, claiming her. His hands slid underneath her hips, and he clasped her more firmly against him as he arched back and thrust again.
Feeling every stroke deep inside, Abby wrapped her legs around his hips, craving more of his touch, aching to be as close as two people could be. On and on, they rocked with the sensual tide, the rhythmic call of passion and love. Jack's strokes in and out of her body were so sweetly loving, yet underlying the gentleness was a core of steel. His pace quickened, and he reached between them to massage her swollen clit, leading her, pushing her on until the world exploded behind her closed eyelids, and he followed her down, jets of his cum filling her womb.
