Ambereye

by Gill McKnight

  This cabin dream was an interesting insight, and Hope supposed it was why she was walking along this meandering path by the riverside. She was intrigued and interested. On some level she was still putting together the puzzle of Jolie Garoul, and there were vast chunks missing.

  They’d been wandering along happily for over an hour when Tadpole suddenly took to his heels and ran ahead, barking madly.

  Startled, Hope made after him calling his name, but he plunged through the underbrush and disappeared from view. She heard him yapping around the next bend and increased her pace as fast as she could manage.

  “Stupid pup. The squirrels are probably teasing him senseless,” she muttered, anxious for him after his last escapade. In some ways it was easier having him skulk around the cabin than thinking he was the king of the forest.

  Hope rounded the bend and found herself in a clearing with a little wooden shack. It was really no more than a roof with three sides. It housed a bench table with wooden seats and a small grill. Some castoff clothing was heaped on the table, and the front wall lay totally open to the riverbank. Hope froze in disbelief. There, in the river, standing thigh deep in the water, was the strangest and most intimidating animal she had ever seen.

  It was tall, and stood upright, but wasn’t a bear. At least it was not like any bear she knew of. Tadpole stood on the bank barking at it, much to her horror. Even as she watched, the creature plunged long arms with vicious claws into the water and swept a large steelhead trout up into the air. It landed on the bank close to Tadpole. He scrabbled over and pranced around the flopping fish barking excitedly, but keeping a safe distance at the same time.

  Hope couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Another fish landed nearby, and Tadpole raced over to begin another round of yapping and dancing around this one. Hope could see several fish floundering along the bank. She pulled back and hid in the shadow of the trees. She was anxious. She didn’t want the creature to see her, but she couldn’t run away without Tadpole, who seemed totally unaware of the danger. In fact… Hope took another peek just as a trout flew through the air and landed splat on top of Tadpole, setting off another frenzy of happy barking. Were they playing?

  Tadpole’s tail wagged madly, and he kept darting down to the water’s edge, waiting for a new fish to be thrown at him. The creature growled and playfully splashed water at him. It was a game!

  Hope didn’t know what to do. She was frightened. Just looking at the creature terrified her on a primal level. Every instinct she had told her to flee, but she couldn’t leave Tadpole. Once again she withdrew around the bend in the path and fretted. Finally decided on a course of action, she filled her lungs and took a chance.

  “Tadpole!” she bellowed as loudly as she could. “Here, boy.

  Here.”

  Either she had just brought that devilish beast down upon her, or Tadpole would come running, and they could continue like that all the way home. That was the extent of her plan—shout and run. Some plan.

  “Taddy!” she yelled again, and took a timorous peek through some branches to see if she could locate him and the massive creature he thought was a playfellow. To her surprise the river was empty and Tadpole stood barking like a fool at the tree line on the opposite bank.

  Had the creature run off when it heard her call, knowing she was nearby? Please let it be an ugly, timid bear.

  “Taddy, here, quickly.” To her relief Tadpole came scurrying toward her. She took a few tentative steps into the clearing to collect him in her arms and get the hell out of there when something drew her attention. The heap of discarded clothes in the shack. The red check of the shirt caught her eye. It seemed familiar.

  The eerie silence from the surrounding forest halted further investigation. It was beginning to freak her out. She was unsure when the birds had stopped singing, and she had the awful feeling of being watched. She lifted Tadpole into her arms and turned to hurry back the way they’d come. She had no inclination to explore the clearing or the shack. She just wanted to get back to their cabin as soon as possible.

  When she finally got back there was a note from Jolie on the kitchen table. “Paulie and folks headed home. Gone to help Dad cut logs. Back in time for dinner. J. Miss you.”

  It was nearly dinner time anyway, so Hope laid clean clothes out on the bed and went for a shower. She was toweling herself dry when Tadpole’s welcome bark alerted her to an arrival. Wrapping her bathrobe tightly around herself, she left the bathroom to find Jolie stripping off in the kitchen, shoving her clothes directly into the washing machine.

  Tadpole sat beside her, his tail thumping on the floor.

  “Hi.” Jolie smiled at her, seemingly unconcerned about her nudity.

  “Did you have a nice day?”

  “Mmm.” Hope felt her cheeks heat as her eyes swept over the tall, tight body. Her stomach clenched as memories of last night came flooding back. Not that they’d been that far from the surface. Since relaying her news to Godfrey, she’d been reliving delicious moments of it all day long.

  Jolie approached slowly until she stood before her. Carefully her fingers pulled at the tie holding Hope’s robe closed, loosening it. Her eyes never left Hope’s, hypnotizing her into acquiescence. The robe fell open and, gripping each side, Jolie gently pulled Hope forward until their naked flesh fused together. It was electrifying, the coolness of her own skin, still damp from the shower, brushing against the sweat and spicy warmth of Jolie’s. With a low rumbling growl Jolie dipped her head to nuzzle Hope’s neck, making all her senses brim over with delight.

  Hope’s skin goose-bumped at the touch of Jolie’s lips. It amazed her how her body locked into Jolie’s; they fit snugly together on a very physical level, and it alarmed her. She’d never felt so content with a new lover so quickly, as if she was drowning in molasses, too overcome with the sweetness to recognize the danger. She pulled back as far as Jolie’s arms allowed her.

  “Oh no, you don’t. I’ve just got myself clean. Get into that shower now, Garoul, or we’ll be late for your parents’ dinner.” She delivered a playful slap to a lovely buttock, and again thrilled at the casual intimacy they shared. They were a parody on honeymooners.

  “Shower with me,” Jolie rumbled in her ear before gently nipping an earlobe. Again, Hope tingled at the warm breath caressing her ear, and the red-hot rush that sexy, growly voice sent through her. She felt almost programmed to fall to the floor and have sex each time that particular low growl rolled from Jolie’s throat and vibrated through her body. With great effort she peeled herself away, shaking the lusty images from her mind.

  “Having a shower with you would be like stepping into a liquidizer. I’m on the verge of collapse as it is. There’s no way I’m doing another round with you.” Deftly she stepped away and retied her robe with a firm double knot.

  Jolie looked a little put out, but allowed Hope to set the pace.

  “I can wait. I’ve been waiting for you forever.” She tenderly rubbed Hope’s nose with her own. “Your nose is wet. You must be feeling healthy.” She smiled at her joke.

  Hope pulled back and wiped at her face. “It’s the shower. I need to get my hair dried. I wish a wet nose was all I needed to be healthy.”

  Jolie gathered her in her arms again. “Don’t let your worries stop this, Hope. You need love in your life. Love will heal you, through and through, and I have tons for it for you.”

  “You’re crazy. I can’t just expect you to—” But Hope’s words were smothered in Jolie’s embrace.

  “I’ll always look after you. I love you so much, and believe me, I’m not going to lose you now I’ve found you, Hope Glassy. You’re my mate…for life.”

  Hope pulled back slightly. “That’s a big thing to say this early on, Jolie. Don’t steamroll me into this. Let’s just see what happens day by day, okay?”

  Jolie swallowed hard and nodded. She had to go slow. Andre and her parents had all succinctly told her to go slow, and she would.

  “I’m
going to take you to the theater when we get back,” she blurted, anxious for Hope to know she knew the right things to do.

  How to woo her, as well as care for her.

  “Not if you smell like that. Theater stalls are not stable stalls. Go wash, or we’ll be late.”

  “And wine and dine you, too,” Jolie added. But Hope was pointing firmly at the bathroom door. Jolie complied, determined to show restraint when asked.

  Shaking her head, Hope watched her leave. Part of her wanted to jump in that shower and arrive late and disheveled for dinner. But she was tired and ached all over. Last night she had been bitten in places piranha couldn’t reach.

  If they called it biter-cise the gyms would be packed, she mused as she crammed her damp towel into the washer with Jolie’s things. She hesitated, touching the sleeve of Jolie’s work shirt. It was a familiar red plaid. It reminded Hope of the one she had seen in the shack. But what did that mean? It was a common flannel pattern; a million work shirts sported it. And those clothes could have been abandoned there for ages.

  Hope hadn’t taken the time to look properly. She’d just wanted to get away.

  Damn, I forgot to ask Jolie about bears. It would have to wait until later. They were already running late. Hope moved back into the bedroom and grabbed her hair dryer.

  “Are there many bears in the valley?” she asked as she passed the bowl of green beans to Leone sitting next to her. This was greeted with a general hesitancy that made Hope wonder if bear talk was inappropriate at the Garoul dinner table. She felt a flush of embarrassment.

  “Not usually,” Claude answered carefully. He was sitting opposite her.

  “If one comes in it never stays long,” Leone added. “Why do you want to know? You’ll always be safe here.”

  “Do you think you saw one?” Jolie asked anxiously. The congenial atmosphere over dinner quieted a little. Hope sensed she had hit a nerve with her hosts, but she couldn’t understand the delicacy around her question. She’d have to ask Jolie later.

  “I’m not sure. Tadpole was barking at something and from a distance it looked…sort of like a bear—”

  “Sort of?” Leone pressed her. Jolie shot a worried glance at Claude and shifted in her seat, ill at ease. Again Hope frowned. Why was everyone so awkward about bears in the valley? Had a bear attacked someone before?

  “Well, I didn’t get a good look. Tadpole scared it off, but it looked like a bear to me. Only—ugly?” She shrugged, trying to make light of it and close the conversation. Her embarrassment was growing to the stage she’d rather have admitted to seeing a UFO hovering over the treetops. It inhibited her from relaying every detail about her trip to the river.

  “Ugly?” Jolie looked incredibly offended.

  “Tadpole scared it?” Leone snorted loudly.

  In fact, several giggles were quickly stifled around the table. Hope didn’t get it.

  “Yeah. Ugly in a Bigfoot kind of way, maybe.” Again this was greeted with muted laughter by all but Jolie, whose face bloomed several shades of red. Hope was getting annoyed at being the butt end of an in-joke.

  “Nah. No Bigfoot around here. Just some bear from over the bluff, I bet.” Leone grinned evilly across at Jolie. “Wait till I tell Andre that you spotted an ugly old bear. He’ll be very interested to know that. It’s so rare to see them in Little Dip.”

  Jolie glowered back, and again Hope wondered what the big joke was.

  “This trout is delicious.” Marie diplomatically pulled the conversation away from bears, ugly or otherwise, and onto their meal. There was a general round of agreement. Patrice had cooked a wonderful dinner.

  “All courtesy of Jolie,” Patrice answered happily. “She caught dozens of them down at her shack this afternoon.”

  “There’s some great fishing along that stretch of the river,” Marie said. “When will you begin your cabin, Jolie? You’ve got a great spot down there.”

  Claude was the one to enthusiastically answer with talk of plans and materials and possible start dates. Jolie sat silent, her gaze locked with Hope’s wide-eyed stare, reading every shock wave as it rolled off her body.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  They walked home in silence.

  Jolie was lost in troubled thoughts, unsure where to begin the conversation they needed to have. Had Hope realized the truth about the Garouls? It had been a close call this afternoon by the river. Tadpole’s appearance should have warned her, but the little squirt had taken to following her everywhere possible. She’d assumed he’d tagged along after her, finally sniffing her out—not that he was actually accompanying Hope on a walk.

  It had been fun watching his hysterical reaction to the flopping fish. She’d enjoyed playing with him, but it had distracted her. She hadn’t caught Hope’s scent on the wind. She should have noticed that; it should have been an alarm signal. But she had missed it because she still had Hope’s scent all over her, a strong mating musk that clung to her, elating and comforting all in the same instance. Something soap and water could never remove. It was secreted in her pores, her sinuses, her taste buds, her head, and in the very chambers of her heart.

  Everywhere. Hope swam in the swirl of her fingerprints like the tide over rippling sands.

  Deep in her gut she knew Hope had her answer. How long would it take for her to compute, to accept, to ask? Jolie wanted it out in the open before they left the valley and hopefully began their new life together. She wanted Hope to understand and to love her anyway. To love the real Jolie Garoul.

  God, how she wished Andre was here. She gave a heavy sigh.

  “What’s wrong?” Hope asked.

  She came back too quickly. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s perfectly natural for a Garoul.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Huh?”

  “You sighed and I asked what was wrong.”

  “Oh.” Jolie was a little flustered at her misunderstanding. “I miss Andre is all.”

  “I miss him, too. And Godfrey. I wish they were both here.”

  “Yeah,” Jolie murmured. They continued on in silence.

  In bed Hope turned her back to Jolie as soon as she slipped under the covers.

  “I’m really tired,” she mumbled and lay staring at the wall with a knitted brow. She was lost in a myriad of confusing, circular thoughts.

  There were dots everywhere in her head, but none were connecting properly. And the few that did presented such a fantastical picture, she automatically rejected it. The red shirt lying abandoned in the shack.

  The huge creature in the river that ran when it heard her. Yet Tadpole knew this creature—he had played with it. And all those fish that ended up on Patrice’s dinner table? Hope’s head hurt. She decided to blame it on the wine. One thing was for sure—the Garouls had a secret. From their amused reaction at dinner they knew about the bear creature.

  Oh, how she wished Taddy could talk. He would tell her what was happening. He wouldn’t let her worry.

  Jolie lay on her side and watched Hope’s shoulders rise and fall.

  She was not sleeping, her breathing told her that. It also told her Hope was tense and worried, and on a deeper level, scared. Jolie stole in behind her to spoon, her arm curving protectively around Hope’s waist.

  “I said I was tired.” Hope stiffened even further.

  “Can we talk? Just a little? I know you want to sleep, but I think we need to talk.”

  Jolie was terrified of the “talk.” She never opened up about herself, her feelings, or her secrets. Yet here she was inviting it, initiating it even.

  She knew Hope was feeling insecure and probably trying to suppress her unease with huge dollops of logic. Instinct told Jolie if she allowed that to happen, then she would have missed an important opportunity to reveal the truth to the woman she hoped was her life mate. In fact, had determined was her life mate.

  There was silence for a moment, then Hope whispered hoarsely, “I don’t know what to think, never mind say.”

  “Anythi
ng. You can say anything. Ask anything.” Jolie’s heart lurched erratically at Hope’s words. She was terrified.

  She cupped her body closer, hoping to give them both a little comfort, and nuzzled through Hope’s hair to find a thumping pulse point. It trembled under her lips and she closed her eyes to savor the desire flashing through her. She was so dedicated to Hope, so in love.

  But was she a creature who could be loved in return? Her family was living proof that it could be that way. But did Jolie deserve the same?

  Could she expect that from Hope?

  “You can ask me anything,” she whispered into the soft flesh of Hope’s throat, eyes closed against her fear.

  There was a hesitation. A quiet intake of breath before Hope’s quiet question exhaled into air around them.

  “What am I in bed with?”

  Jolie threw another log into the wood stove before settling back onto the couch opposite Hope. They both sat curled up, nursing the cups of cocoa Hope had made as Jolie stoked up the fading embers.

  Now fire glow was the only light in the room as Jolie began her story.

  “Remember I told you before how the Garouls arrived in America in the early sixteen hundreds. Well, at least Yvette Garoul did. She was exiled from the ancestral family lands of southern France and sailed for the New World. She dressed as a man and became a tracker and fur trader along the Hudson, then moved out west.”

  “I remember. Why was she exiled?”

  “She stole her brother’s wife. They fought over the infidelity and she lost. That’s how the story goes.”

  “Her brother’s wife? She was gay?”

  “Her twin brother. And yes, she was lesbian. A high proportion of Garouls are gay. We think it’s so we don’t overbreed.”

  “Wow. Why can’t you overbreed?”

  “Let’s stick with one story at a time. I don’t want to muck this up.”