Panther on the Prowl

by Nancy Morse

  Her first impulse was to race back inside to tell John the wonderful news that her eyesight had returned, but something stopped her.

  As the quiet dawn came stealing over the horizon, she was struck by the rugged, pristine beauty that surrounded her. She dared not move, lest it all fade away as rapidly as it had appeared. She remained perfectly still, her heart thumping, tears threatening as the full impact was revealed to her.

  All the words in the world could not describe the incredible beauty that unfolded before her newly found sight. She sucked in her breath with awe. The greenness all around was dazzling. The lush, tropical foliage was radiant, pristine and virtually unspoiled. Ribbons of purple and pink tinted a sapphire sky that stretched to the horizon. John was right. This place was paradise.

  She was trembling, not from cold or fear, but from the sheer beauty that was all around her and from the exhilaration of the moment. Her eyes were wet with tears, as if she were seeing the world for the very first time. The breath inside of her stilled to a calmness she’d never felt before, and everything that had ever troubled her evaporated in the crystal-clear light that exploded over the treetops.

  Her gaze swept the panorama. It was just as he had described it, only a hundred times more wonderful than anything she could have imagined. She felt a stab of regret knowing that it had been there all right under her nose while she’d been busy lying to herself about things that, in retrospect, didn’t really matter.

  Regaining her eyesight was like waking from a long, deep sleep and discovering an awareness of herself she never knew, like the connection she felt to this place even before its staggering beauty was revealed to her eyes. But with that insight came a new reality. As she stood there reveling in the breathtaking beauty, she realized that it had to do not so much with what she saw, but with how it made her feel—alive and aware perhaps for the very first time.

  She had survived an ordeal that was so much worse than the betrayal of a duplicitous fiancé. How stupid she’d been to think that her experience with Craig was the end of her world, when one look at the beauty all around her and she knew with certainty that never to have seen this would have been the real tragedy. With every breath she took she felt a strength welling within, and with that strength came a heightened necessity. As the light grew upon the Everglades, it brought with it a realization of the startling need she had to be loved as the strong, independent woman she now knew in her heart she really was.

  But with the realization came the doubt. It began as a small, nagging voice at the back of her mind, warning her of the consequences of rushing toward any presumptions. It spread quickly to the pit of her belly, filling her with an unsettling feeling, as of something incomplete, pending. She knew in a heartbeat what it was.

  Was this really such wonderful news? Or was her returning eyesight a bell tolling the inevitable?

  Now what? she frantically asked herself. Was it time to return to the life she had run away from? So soon? When she had only just discovered herself? She closed her eyes in agony, blocking the panoramic beauty from her eyesight, though she could not chase it from her mind. How could she give all this up and return to a life that had been barren and without meaning?

  She tried to look at the bright side. Now that she could see again, she could pursue her studies unhindered. With the revelation of the panther legend, who knew what other hidden truths lurked in Seminole myth? She tried to tell herself that the woman she had become in these past few weeks was stronger than the rich, pampered woman who had almost allowed herself to be pushed into a loveless marriage. But try as she might, she could not convince herself that going back was the right thing to do. Not when there was one major obstacle standing in her way.

  John Panther.

  Her breath quickened, not just from the tangled emotions that invariably accompanied the thought of him, but from the fear of the unknown. Last night, when she realized in the darkness that she loved him regardless of who or what he was, it had seemed so right. But today, with the world suddenly bathed in light, she wasn’t so sure. Until now she’d been thrilled by the essence of him, but now she could not help but wonder what he looked like and what bearing, if any, it would have on her feelings for him. She wanted to believe herself capable of loving without regard to physical appeal, and it was the possibility of finding that she was wrong that frightened her the most.

  And what about John? Now that she could see and his role in her life as healer was presumably over, would he want no further part of her? Would the wall he placed between them, which at times showed signs of cracking, be back again with its full, impenetrable force? Just when she thought she might be getting through to him, was it all about to end?

  Rennie opened her eyes again. The beautiful scenery was blurred by the hot tears that ran down her cheeks at the prospect of just how much she stood on the verge of losing.

  “Rennie?”

  Her name called softly from behind froze the breath in her lungs. Hastily she wiped away the tears and choked back a sob as she turned slowly to face him.

  A thin ray of morning sunlight slanted across his face. Her fingers had already confirmed that his skin was soft and unblemished, that his jaw was strong and his cheekbones finely chiseled. But no amount of touching could have prepared her for the handsomeness that stole her breath away.

  How had he described himself? Dark hair, dark eyes. Those four words did pale justice to the hair that was as dark as night, one rough black lock falling onto his forehead, the ebony eyes that stared back at her as if pleading for understanding, the high cheekbones and straight nose, the uncertain smile on his lips that were full and finely etched. His face was a combination of beauty and roughness, with a level of strength in those features, something quiet and open, of immeasurable steadiness and patience.

  The unexplained regret and remorse she heard all too often in his voice was there in the eyes that stared back at her. She wanted to go to him, to tell him that she knew what haunted him and that she loved him, anyway, but all she could do was stare at his handsome face and his lean, muscular body clad only in hastily pulled-on jeans, and think that in all her life she had never seen a more handsome man. Not handsome like the male models in men’s clothing catalogs, with their classic features and perfect poses, but rather with an unrefined beauty of something rare and wild and dangerous. His rugged beauty was like a double-edged sword, on the one side the inexplicable allure of his nature that was filled with dark secrets, on the other side his formidable physical appearance making him different from any man she had ever known.

  John knew by the way her eyes raced over him that she could see, and he steeled himself against the consequences. He stood rock still, forcing his skin not to quiver under the soft caress of her gaze. He felt himself stiffen as surely as if she had slipped her hand into his unzipped jeans. Somehow, he found his voice and asked tautly, “Disappointed?”

  Without taking her eyes from him, she breathed, “No,” and felt the color rush into her cheeks.

  She turned away and forced her attention on the scenery. “I never imagined…” There were not words to describe the joyous, frightening feeling that overwhelmed her.

  He swallowed hard and came forward to stand beside her, although he was careful not to touch her for fear that he would break the spell of the moment and lose forever that look in her eyes.

  He nodded to a place beyond the cabin where a large, long-legged bird the color of strawberry-ripple ice cream sifted a small mudflat for minnows with its flattened bill. “A spoonbill.” He pointed to a bird that hovered overhead, looking for all the world like an old prop-jet. “Brown pelican,” he said. A cry from the treetops drew his attention. “Recognize that?”

  Rennie tried to ignore his closeness and concentrate on the sound. “Pigeons,” she said confidently. But when she turned her eyes towards the trees, it wasn’t the plain garden variety pigeons she saw, but large plum-colored birds with elegant white crowns.

  “When I was litt
le, my father gave me a big colored Easter egg with a hole in one end that you could look into and see a scene inside. Right now I feel as if I’ve stepped through the hole and into the egg, and I’m standing in the middle of this surreal scene. Only instead of bunnies and daffodils, it’s…it’s…this. God, it’s so beautiful. How can you stand it?”

  “I know what you mean,” he said. “Not about the Easter egg, but about it being so beautiful that it almost hurts.”

  She turned her head and looked at him. His gaze was fixed lovingly on the view. The barest smile lifted the corners of his lips. But as she watched, she saw a change come over him, almost imperceptible except for the subtle tensing of his jaw and the faint hardening of his smile.

  “It’s not all beautiful, though,” he said solemnly. “There’s a lot of danger out there, and things that make you question who you are and why you do the things you do.”

  He was thinking how everything from the past had led him to this moment. Suddenly he was filled with doubt as to which affected him the most, the killing of the panther that had caused him so much pain and sorrow or the woman standing beside him who made him feel things he thought he had buried with Maggie. For a reason he could not define, he knew that the two were somehow entwined.

  Since the moment Rennie fell into his life, he was never afraid of the day she would see…until now. Could she read the fear in his eyes? Could she see past his defenses to the core of his aching heart? Did she know how afraid he was of loving her? Or worse, of her not loving him?

  From the beginning he’d been impressed by her intelligence, touched by her vulnerability and burning with desire for her. Yet he always knew she’d have to go. And although not a word about leaving was spoken, he knew in his heart it was coming, that it had been inevitable from the start. How she had slipped past his defenses he didn’t know, but she had, and here he was, steeling himself against the pain of losing her.

  Rennie saw the turmoil building in John’s eyes. There was a certain look of resolve on his face, as if he knew what she was going to say before she even thought it. She asked herself the question she could not bear to utter aloud. What reason was there for her to stay? After all, John had never told her that he loved her. Even now, as he stood there looking like the loneliest man in the world, she sensed the wall he put up between them and she knew that he was determined not to be loved. What chance was there for her in the face of such odds?

  She turned away and sat down on the top step of the cypress porch, legs pulled in close. “It’s not just out there,” she said. “Danger is everywhere. But that’s only because the real danger comes from yourself. Believe me, you’re not the only one who wonders why you do the things you do. Your shame can’t be worse than my own at the charade I’ve been living. Acting out a role I thought I was supposed to play. Rebelling every now and again, being tolerated for it and then slipping back into the role.”

  She sighed, shaking her head at the sad irony. “I did it to myself. After all, I had choices, but I squandered them just like my mother squandered hers. But unlike my mother, who did it for money, I did it for something far less attainable…love.

  “I’ve spent a lifetime looking for love,” she admitted, “always thinking that maybe if I did it their way, just this once, they would love me for it. But they loved campaign parties more, and after years of looking, I learned not to expect it. Then came Craig, who offered love and security, or so I thought. Marrying him would have pleased the senator greatly, maybe even enough to glean a bit of affection out of him. I could kill two birds with one stone, and in the process, kill a bit of myself, as well.”

  She was so honest about herself that it made John feel less than honorable. He wanted to tell her about the panther and what it was like for him. How he thought he was doomed to the same fate as the poor panther. How the prayer the warrior never said had, in a way, become his own prayer. And how the answer to that prayer was her. But the words froze on his tongue. What difference did any of it make, now that she had decided to leave? He didn’t have to hear her say it. He could feel it crackling in the air. Speaking the words would only confirm what he already knew.

  What right did he have to ask her to stay? This was his world, not hers. She might be happy here for a few days or weeks, until the novelty wore off. She’d be wanting more, now that she could see again.

  Besides, all the unsaid words he was thinking, all the signs he might give her, would not be enough. She deserved better. She deserved someone who could love her fully and safely, without ghosts from the past coming between them or threats of danger from a sinister creature.

  He sat down next to her on the top step. “At night, as a kind of antidote to the noise of the city, retrace in your mind some of the paths we’ve followed through the wetlands and you’ll find yourself back in the Everglades.”

  She wondered if she would ever find another man who could echo her thoughts with his softly spoken words the way this one could. Sometimes it seemed that she didn’t have to say anything at all; he just knew what she was feeling. Like now, when the thought of leaving was so unbearable and yet so necessary, and she knew he was trying, in his giving way, to make it easier.

  “I’ve seen this place…” and you, she thought “…a thousand times in my mind these past few weeks. Now I’ve seen it as it really is, which is even more beautiful, and I wonder how I’ll survive without it.”

  “You’re strong, Rennie. You’ve proven that. Not many people could survive what you’ve been through.”

  “You mean the crash or the betrayal?” There was a ring of self-mockery in her tone.

  “Both,” he replied. “You’re a survivor. Don’t you get that about yourself?”

  “There’s a lot about myself I’m just beginning to learn,” she admitted. “I have you to thank for that.”

  John’s cheeks colored faintly and his dark lashes swooped down to hide his eyes. “I didn’t make you who you are.”

  “No, but you saved my life. You also didn’t send me packing. Either way, I wouldn’t be here now.”

  “You also wouldn’t be leaving.”

  There, he said them, the words that were sitting between them like unwanted company.

  “You understand why I have to, don’t you?”

  “Sure,” he said. “You have a life to get back to, with work and friends and…” His words trailed off awkwardly.

  She looked at him. “And?”

  He shrugged. “You know.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He felt like a kid who’d been caught doing something naughty and was being made to answer for it now. Trying hard to keep the jealousy out of his voice, he said, “That guy. The one you were going to marry.”

  Rennie’s mouth fell open. “Craig?” She practically spat out the name. “I’d die before I’d ever go back to him.”

  “When you said before about slipping back into the role, I thought you meant—”

  “That I would go back and marry him?” She laughed sharply, the way one does when the subject isn’t really funny. “As if I ever could.”

  Loving a man like John made her realize how pitifully lacking her feelings for Craig had been. This man was vital and alive, not merely going through the motions like the other. He gave her space to be who she was without being manipulative and controlling. No matter what he was, she would never fear him the way she had feared Craig.

  John drew in a deep breath of relief, knowing that she wasn’t leaving to be with another man. “What will you do?” he asked.

  “Try to pick up the pieces. I’ll start with my stepfather. He has to know the reason I broke off the engagement. And then… Who knows? Go back to work, I suppose.”

  John tensed at the mention of her work. “Did you get the stories you came here for?”

  Rennie looked down at her bare feet for a few moments without answering. There was more, she knew, so much more, to the panther legend than she could ever tell the outside world, for it would bring an onsl
aught of researchers and the just-plain-curious, and this place would never be the same. She couldn’t even tell John that she knew his secret for fear of causing him shame, something she never wanted to do.

  She answered evasively, “I heard a few good ones.”

  “Too bad you didn’t get the one you really wanted.”

  Oh, but she had. But she figured that by the time John found out from old Willie Cypress that she had, she’d be long gone, sparing him any embarrassment. Because if he knew that she knew, he would surely ask her if she believed it, and she would have to tell him that, yes, not only did she believe it, but she believed it of him.

  “You can’t always get what you want,” she said.

  John quipped, “Isn’t that a song by the Rolling Stones?”

  Rennie nodded, smiling to herself. Every time she imagined him as something primitive and wild, he surprised her by reminding her how he wasn’t all that different from anybody else who liked chicken noodle soup, literature and rock and roll. But he wasn’t simply a man like any other man, she reminded herself. It was that dissimilarity—the darkness combined with his sameness—that made him so unique. To her he was part legend and part reality, living an almost wild existence in a wild and unforgiving place, yet also civilized in ways most men weren’t. She knew she would never meet another man like him, and it made leaving him that much more unbearable.

  All he had to do was ask her to stay and she would have agreed in a heartbeat, but the words she longed to hear were not forthcoming, and as much as it hurt, she understood why. They were from different worlds, with different backgrounds, different futures, and all the other things standing between them that were sad but true.

  She turned to him then, her eyes bright with tears. “John, I want you to know how grateful I am that—”

  He placed a finger on her lips to still the words he couldn’t stand to hear. It wasn’t her gratitude he wanted. It was her. All of her. But he had no right to want her, not when there was so much unfinished business in his life.