Where She Belongs (Destiny Falls)

by Cindy Procter-King

  “Okay, okay, one step at a time. I have to master the clutch first.”

  “Then tarry no longer. Your carriage awaits.” With a gentlemanly sweep of his hand, he opened the driver’s door.

  “Some carriage. But I appreciate the loan of it, anyway.” As she climbed behind the steering wheel, she glanced at his dog in the cargo hold. “Poor Sheba. She won’t like losing her warm, comfy spot back there.”

  “Are you kidding?” Adam strode to the passenger side and slid onto the seat. “Sheeb loves riding around in my bush pickup. She’d take it over this beast any day.”

  Jess drew in a breath. “I guess there’s no postponing the inevitable, then.” She turned the key in the ignition. Thunk. The truck lurched forward.

  Adam winced. “You forgot the clutch.”

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. Just step on it before you start. Remember to release it slowly, but not too slow. You don’t want to ride it when you’re shifting gears.”

  “Clear as mud.”

  Spine stiffening, she stepped on the clutch and cranked the engine. A healthy roar filled the cab. The clutch depressed, and she experimented with the gearshift until she located reverse. Turning her head, she eased her foot off the clutch and backed up.

  “Great! You’re on your way.”

  She zapped him a smile that smacked him in the chest. Man, she was beautiful when she smiled.

  Stepping on the clutch again, she shifted into first and steered around the garage. Adam talked her through the clutch and stick shift, careful not to flinch when she ground the gears a second time. Sheba whined in the cargo hold.

  “Damn it,” Jess said. “Sorry.”

  “You’ll get the hang of it.”

  “Yeah, but when? My mother expects me back before midnight.”

  “My slo-pitch practice starts at six-thirty.”

  She glanced at the dashboard clock. “It’s four-twenty. I’d better graduate to highway driving. Good thing the Crossroad isn’t far.”

  “I’ll let you know when to turn. Relax.”

  “Easy for you to say.” But she slackened her death-grip on the steering wheel and took two more loops around the garage, engaging and releasing the clutch in better synchronization with the gearshift. She released a breath. Pride wreathed her face as she pulled onto the highway and accelerated to a few kilometers below the posted speed limit.

  Adam clapped and whistled. She shot him a humor-filled glance.

  “Another milestone!” he declared when she turned onto Destiny Falls Crossroad without riding the clutch.

  “Oh, shut up,” she tossed back lightly. “Can’t you see I’m driving?”

  “Yes, Mother.” He slouched against the armrest like an insolent teenager. Pretending to watch the scenery, he monitored her progress from the corner of one eye. She returned her attention to the road, which curved and wound at a steady incline. The spruce and fir trees lining the shoulders increased in size and density as the houses facing the Crossroad gave way to treed acreage and forested mountains. The road narrowed, and soon thick brush obscured the signs.

  “Shouldn’t we have reached Red Rock Road by now?” she asked.

  “We passed it five minutes ago.”

  “What? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “You told me to shut up.”

  She glared at him as if he were frustration incarnate. He wiggled his eyebrows like Bugs Bunny outfoxing Elmer Fudd.

  “Adam Wright! You tricked me on purpose!”

  He showed his teeth. “Guilty.”

  “I don’t believe this! I can’t turn around now without taking us into the ditch. What should I do?”

  “You tell me, Jess. You’re in the driver’s seat.”

  “Cute, Wright.” Twin spots of color flared on her cheeks, giving her a just-been-kissed-and-not-too-thrilled-about-it look. “As if I’m not nervous enough learning to drive this behemoth, you have to play word games.”

  He shrugged. “You’re tense. I’m helping you loosen up.”

  “I’ll loosen a can of kick-butt on you if you’re not careful.”

  “Come on, Jess, you’re doing fine. The turn-off for the waterfall is up ahead. We’ll drive around the campsites, check out the local wonder of nature. Have you visited the falls since you came home?”

  “Mom’s car hasn’t exactly been reliable, remember?”

  “So, I found a way around that. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

  “You’re hopeless, you know that? The only reason you didn’t breathe a word is because you knew you’d never get me in the middle of nowhere with you like this without resorting to another of your dirty tricks.”

  “Dirty tricks? Moi?” He crossed his heart over his shirt pocket. “My intentions are as honorable as my gender allows.”

  “At least you score points for honesty.” Reducing speed, she downshifted smoothly into third gear. “Where’s this turn-off, anyway? My memory’s rusty.”

  “That long, huh?” He pointed out a sign. “Take a left. Quick!”

  Shifting jerkily into second, she swung the truck onto a narrow road. It bounced over a pothole, engine wailing like a wounded animal. “Sorry.”

  “Did I complain?”

  “No. Thank you.” She chose the fork to the right, following the loop of empty campsites nestled amid tall evergreens. Tourists rarely descended on the area until May. He and Jess would have the falls to themselves.

  Good. He didn’t feel like sharing the scenery. Or the woman.

  At his suggestion, she parked parallel to the viewing deck. As if stretched to the limits of her endurance, she crumpled against her seat and sighed. “We made it.”

  He laughed at her woebegone expression. “Who’d have thought it? Jessica Morgan—busy merchandising executive and world traveler—humbled by a standard SUV.”

  “Humiliated is more like it. And please don’t call me Jessica.”

  “Why not? It’s a beautiful name.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not mine.”

  “What’s Jess short for, then?”

  “Plain Jessie, with an ‘i-e.’ Mom named me for her father, Jesse Banks. She always said she didn’t see the point in calling me Jessica when she never planned to use the name.”

  “So your birth certificate reads?”

  “Jessie Noreen. Corny, huh?”

  “I think it’s great. Although unusual around here, a girl being named for her grandfather.”

  “Thank God his name wasn’t Marvin.” Her voice brimmed with warmth.

  Adam liked her wit. Too bad she didn’t display it more often. “I was named for my mom’s father, too—Tom McLean. My middle name is Thomas.”

  “Really? I thought it was Perseverance.”

  “Very funny.” He lowered his gaze to her lips. What he’d give to silence her smart mouth with a slow, deep kiss. Unfortunately, the last he knew, mature, adult “friends” didn’t hook up in parked vehicles like a couple of sex-starved teenagers. “Now do you want to see the falls or what?”

  If she’d replied “or what,” he would have gone ahead and kissed her—damn the friendship. It was a farce, anyway. He knew it, and so did she. She just didn’t want to admit it.

  She didn’t allow him the satisfaction of playing into his hand. Hopping out of the truck with a blithe, “That’s why we’re here,” she raced ahead to the viewing deck, leaving him sitting there with heat licking his veins and a tight ache in his chest.

  Jess zipped her new jacket against the breeze that had picked up since they’d left the garage, then risked a glance back at the SUV. Adam remained in the passenger seat, gaining her a few moments of peace. All too soon, his door opened. Out he climbed, jean jacket in hand. He donned the coat over his blue flannel work shirt and strode to the cargo hold to retrieve his dog.

  As he lifted the door, his broad back stretched faded denim, and her heart clambered in her chest. Sheba bounced out of the cargo hold with a cheerful-sounding bark.

 
; Quickening her pace, Jess turned toward the viewing deck. Their friendship was a joke! Adam proved that every time he came near her. The connection between them felt super-charged, a crackling, humming energy that infused her with excitement as much as it did dread.

  I don’t need this.

  Or did she?

  She sucked in a breath. She was on vacation of sorts. Maybe a short-term thing with Adam was exactly what she did need.

  He didn’t want forever. And he drew her like a magnet.

  How much longer could she withstand the pull?

  Adam accompanied Sheba on her bathroom break near a remote section of the chain-link fence bordering the wedge-shaped canyon. He hadn’t lured Jess to the waterfall for a repeat of the drive-in scenario, and he didn’t want her worrying that he had. As much as it went against his nature not to go after what he wanted, he had to give her space or whatever was blossoming between them would die.

  You’re crazy to want her, Wright. Never mind the number one stopper—her temporary visit. In three weeks, he needed to submit his bid for the Jamison Forest Products contract. Preparations, slo-pitch, and coordinating the Destiny Falls Young Achievers program without Pete’s assistance would keep him hopping. He didn’t have time for a relationship, short-lived or otherwise.

  Cutting through the brush, he allowed Sheba to scamper ahead of him to the viewing deck. The dog barked at Jess’s heels, eliciting her cautious laughter. Her gaze swung to meet his... still wary and guarded, yet lit with a soft expression that enthused him and gave him hope.

  He joined woman and dog on the deck. Planting his hands on the rough cedar railing, he drank in the view. To their left, the majestic waterfall cascaded over a sheer cliff face, plummeting to the remnants of the ice-stocking that formed at its base each winter. Sparse stands of Lodgepole pine suffering from the ravages of a province-wide beetle infestation rimmed the canyon walls, as did clumps of Western red cedar and Western hemlock. To their right, the valley widened into a breathtaking vista of dense virgin forest.

  The waterfall roared in his ears. He leaned in close to Jess. “Glad we came?”

  She nodded, her dark curls fluttering in the moisture-scented breeze. “I forgot how peaceful it is.”

  “Especially before tourist season starts.” He dragged in a lungful of clean canyon air. “I never get tired of coming here.”

  She looked at him. “Do you come often?”

  “When I need to think. It’s great stress relief.”

  “Sure beats rush hour.”

  He chuckled. Sheba nosed his thigh, and he scratched her head. Jess’s gaze lingered on him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Oh.” She waved a hand. “I was remembering how Molly and I used to call this place Hick Falls, in honor of our little one-horse town.”

  Adam laughed. “Her brothers called it Hickey Falls.”

  “And took advantage of that name often, no doubt.”

  “Did you?”

  Color fanned her cheeks. “I guess every teenage couple comes here at some point. But I was shy in high school, and my father was the protective type. I rarely dated.”

  “I don’t believe that. Even at fourteen, you were a knockout. Your dad must have wielded a pretty hefty chainsaw to scare off the boys.”

  “All but one,” she murmured. An unmistakable sadness shadowed her tone.

  Brushing off his hands, Adam ordered Sheba to lie down. The dog curled up behind them on the deck. “If you don’t mind me asking, Jess, how did your father die?”

  She gazed out at the waterfall. A pair of violet-blue swallows darted through the air, swooping and diving against the backdrop of the canyon in a graceful ballet. She watched the birds for several moments before returning her gaze to his.

  “Widowmaker,” she whispered.

  Adam’s blood froze. He’d heard his share of loggers’ tales about loose limbs or large chunks of debris hurtling from a tree as it was being felled.

  “He was killed cutting trees in the bush?” Icy fingers gripped him.

  The thundering falls shrouded her voice as she nodded. “And so was my boyfriend. Danny.”

  Shit! “Damn it, Jess. I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes flickered shut, as if she couldn’t hear him. “Dad should have checked the tree... he forgot to check the tree. He was training Danny. He should have been more careful.” She bit her bottom lip. “That’s the thing. No one really knows what happened. Danny couldn’t remember. If Dad checked, it made no difference. A huge branch flung down on Danny. And then the... the falling tree struck Dad. It broke his neck. He was killed instantly.”

  Nausea swelled in Adam’s gut. He covered her hand with his on the railing. She looked at him, eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “Jess,” he murmured. “You don’t have to say any more.”

  Jess gazed at the big, strong forester standing beside her. “It’s all right. I... I want to.” She heard her voice break, felt his hand tighten over hers, offering warmth and security. “It feels good to tell you,” she admitted. That, more than anything, surprised her. Caused something cold and dark and bleak to twist loose inside her. “Danny was more than my boyfriend. We began dating when I was sixteen. We planned to get engaged.”

  “What happened? Was he—?”

  “Killed, too?” She shook her head. “He died, but not right away, like Dad did. Danny had surgery... but it didn’t help. At best, he would have faced the rest of his life in a wheelchair.” The old sorrow resurfaced, grabbing her by the throat. Yet she wanted—needed—to continue. “Those two weeks following the accident were horrible, attending Dad’s funeral and surviving the aftermath while Danny knew he might be dying. I visited him in the Kamloops hospital every day.”

  She blinked back stinging tears. In that sterile hospital room, she’d pledged to love Danny Galloway forever. But her love—their love—hadn’t been enough. She’d lost him, anyway. And the grief that had assaulted her when her father died spiraled out of control.

  “My mom...” The words scraped from her throat, and she swallowed. Adam squeezed her hand while the falls rushed endlessly before them. “Dad’s death shocked us both. Then when Danny died... Adam, it was torture. But instead of reaching out to each other, Mom and I each suffered alone. It wasn’t by choice. I didn’t realize that her ‘acceptance’ of the accident—” she crooked two fingers into quotation marks “—was an act put on for me. She wanted to be strong for me, but I couldn’t see that. I wanted to be there for her, too, but I didn’t know how. Not when she was being so damn stoic, so damn strong.”

  “Jess...”

  “Please. I need to say this.” She glanced at him. “I turned away from her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Turned away, ran away. I hadn’t planned to start university in Kamloops that September. I applied, but then Danny and I decided to wait a year so we could prove our independence and make some money.” For her engagement ring and for their first apartment. A vision of Danny’s earnest face at eighteen filled her mind: his scruffy dark hair and warm-cocoa eyes. “I was already working at Waverly Foods. After the accident, though, I couldn’t handle living here, in this town—”

  “The memories were too much for you.” Adam’s deep voice sounded gruff.

  “Yes.” Thank you for understanding. “A few weeks before high school graduation, we announced our decision to postpone our educations. Our parents were supportive. Dad asked Danny if he wanted to work in the bush that year. He wanted to be a forester, like you, so it seemed like a good idea, and the money was fantastic. He was supposed to stay on the landing—a bucker. His job was to de-limb the logs in preparation for loading. But fallers make the big money, and the foreman agreed that Danny was a natural.”

  “He took faller training?”

  Her lungs ached. “My father was certified. He always resented having to jump through that hoop. He’d been logging and training fallers for decades, and suddenly the government required him to take
a course from someone years younger without as much experience. He considered it red tape B.S.” She inhaled sharply. “Danny would have taken the course. He couldn’t fell trees without it. But Dad thought giving him a head-start couldn’t hurt. He began to pre-train him... but I blamed Mom. She let me believe she was behind the idea.”

  “She didn’t want you angry with your father when he’d just died. You had enough to deal with already.”

  Jess nodded. “I left within the month. Accepted the university offer without consulting her and moved in with my Aunt Marion in Kamloops. Mom carried on, keeping tabs on me through my aunt, her sister. Neither of them told me. Then Mom ran into Pete in Waverly Foods one day, and they grew close again from there.” She exhaled roughly. “I should have come home on the weekends more often, but I couldn’t. Pete was there for her, though. He supported her when I couldn’t.”

  “But who was there for you, Jess?”

  “Molly.”

  “Not your mother, though. Not in the way you needed.”

  Numbness swathed her. She shook her head. “No, not my mom.”

  “Yet you blamed yourself for the problems you and she shared. Do you still blame yourself?” He cupped her face with one hand. His thumb brushed a hot, escaping tear.

  Her throat tightened. “I don’t see how I can’t,” she whispered. “When I think about those days now, it hurts, Adam. It hurts so damn much.”

  He swore, and the earthy word sounded oddly like an endearment. He pressed his lips to her cheek, her chin, and then wrapped her in his arms.

  She released an anguished sigh against his chest. His unbuttoned jacket had flapped open, and his flannel work shirt cushioned her face. His heartbeat resounded in her ear, drowning out the noise of the falls. He stroked her hair, and she lifted her head.

  His gaze met hers... and then he kissed her.

  Once. Lightly.

  Don’t kiss him back. It was too soon, and painful memories packed her brain. But, damn it, his kiss felt too right to question. Lacing her fingers behind his neck, she urged down his head.