“You’re presuming a lot. We haven’t done anything that I’d call a relationship.”
“You’re right. But I react to you. I’m reacting today. And it isn’t the kind of reaction that is healthy for a therapist to feel for a patient.”
“Am I supposed to feel flattered?”
Margo had to smile. She shook her head. “You’d be better off feeling worried.”
His eyes narrowed. “Does that mean you won’t come again?”
She saw the barriers rising in place, heard the ice in his voice. Her father’s image came to mind. She’d seen the same cold expression in his eyes. “I’ll come tomorrow, but not as a therapist. I won’t be able to hear about your past. I’ll be strictly an adviser to make recommendations for your future.”
“Whatever you say.”
His stiffness eased slightly, but she could sense the need. The power of it threatened to cave her in. She wanted to step toward him and reach out, but she backed up, seeking to distance herself from the strong pull he exuded.
“I’ll get my things and leave.”
Before he could respond, she tore her glance from his and went into the cabin. With a sweep of her hand, she gathered her bag and belongings. A quick rummage in her purse produced the list of therapy programs she’d compiled.
“Read these over tonight. Then I want you to do some serious thinking. Tomorrow we’ll discuss what your options are.”
His eyes narrowed as he took the list. A mask had settled over his emotions, but Margo hardened her heart to ignore it.
At the Jeep, he handed her a can of soda. “For the road,” he said. He moved around the engine, checking water and oil, and then stepped in front of her. She wondered if he would change his mind.
“About tomorrow.” He stopped her before she climbed into the driver’s seat of the Jeep. “You are still coming?”
Margo smiled, relieved that he hadn’t shut himself behind his wall again. “I’ll be here.”
***
Margo called herself ten kinds of a fool before she made it back to Fort Bragg. An adviser – what a lie that term was. It sounded reasonable, but she knew she had no business going back there. True, she was already in Mendocino County, so why not take advantage of being here and having another chance to convince Zane to come in? But it wasn’t her concern anymore; she’d written off the case.
You can’t write off a man’s life, she argued with herself as she flew around a corner on the narrow road. To the right, sheer cliffs dropped to the pounding surf below. Her tires squealed as she hit the next curve, and she suddenly realized she was driving too fast. Her grip tightened on the wheel as she skidded to a stop in the first pull-off.
The crash of waves sounded in the cab of the Jeep. The odor of salt and seaweed wafted in the breeze. Margo stared out to sea, wondering what she was going to do. Ethics demanded she leave Zane to another therapist. Her past taunted and her heart demanded she go back for one more try.
The longer Margo stared at the expanse of blue, the more unsure she became. Finally she put the Jeep in gear and returned to the inn. It wasn’t until after a walk on the beach and dinner that she finally made up her mind. Bettina’s phone call clinched the decision.
“Aren’t you coming home tonight?” Bettina asked.
“I told Vinnie I’d come this weekend to tell Zane.”
“And?”
“He’s decided to open up and talk. I’m not going to counsel him, but I can use that to get him to agree to go to a center for treatment.” Margo heard the rustling and could picture her mother’s restless shifting. She’d already explained to her mother that there was a conflict of interest in this case, so she couldn’t blame her for the concern.
“You aren’t going back, are you?”
“Maman, I can’t desert him now. The moment is too critical.”
“Come on, cher. You aren’t going to risk all you’ve worked for on this crazy notion of yours to save the world. From what you’ve said he isn’t bad off. He’s not going to do anything foolish like…”
Your father. Margo silently finished for her. Images of the coldness in her father’s eyes formed; a chilling stare until a little five-year-old would climb in his lap and tell him how much she loved him. But it hadn’t been enough; he’d killed himself anyway.
Pain iced its way through her. If she examined it she might see that it was guilt and self-blame, but she never allowed herself a close look. It was easier to work on someone else’s problems. She could be more objective.
Bettina’s voice cut into her thoughts. “There’s more than what you’re telling me, isn’t there?”
Margo shifted uneasily. “I promised Zane I’d be there. It’s my last visit. He knows that.”
“Are you sure it’s not the man you’re dealing with rather than the patient?”
Margo stared at the phone. Ripples of concern put her on the defensive. Was she that transparent? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. You’ve shown all the classic symptoms: nervous restlessness, unexplained bouts of extreme optimism followed by equally unexplained bouts of self-castigation.”
Margo cringed as she saw the truth of her mother’s words.
“From all the signs, I’d say you were falling for the guy.”
“Maman!”
“Just how serious is it?”
Margo gave up and slumped back against the bed. “I don’t know. I’m as confused as you think I am.”
Bettina’s sigh carried across the wires. Gone was her professional concern. Margo could hear the maternal instinct rearing up.
“You come back tonight. Forget about your father. Forget this man.”
“I…”
“No excuses, Margo. You carry the past on your shoulders. You’re going to have to deal with that and maybe now is the time.”
No. The denial echoed in her mind. She would not let another man find excuses to give up on life. She’d failed her father. She wouldn’t fail Zane.
“I’ll call when I get home,” she told her mother and ignored the sigh of frustration.
After hanging up the phone, Margo stared out the window. The breeze rustled through the curtains, carefree and light. Would she ever feel that way?
Chapter 12
The swimming hole turned out to be everything Zane had promised – and more. Hot and perspiring from the hike over the ridge, Margo followed Zane into the shaded glade and thought she’d arrived in heaven.
Giant redwoods edged the side of the river that they stood on. It was flat with patched of grass in the open spaces and a sandbar that extended into a shallow part of the water.
The opposite bank took her breath away. A steep cliff curved in a semicircle, forming the bend in the river. Thick moss and hanging five-finger ferns covered the wall. Near the center, a small waterfall tumbled thirty feet from the lip of granite into a large pool.
Another pool formed the lower end of the bend and was connected by a fast-flowing channel. The water was crystal clear. The deep and inviting pools reflected the green foliage surrounding them.
“What do you think?” Zane asked as he spread the blanket on the sandbar.
Margo noticed the pleased tone in his voice. “It’s a paradise. A dream pool.”
“That’s a good name for it. I dream a lot when I come here.”
“About what?” she asked as she set her share of the gear on the blanket.
“Everything.” He shrugged as he kicked off his sneakers.
Margo sat down and tugged at her boots. The cool sand felt good slipping between her bare toes. “Do you dream about what you’re missing holed up here by yourself?”
His expression closed slightly, but then he glanced up and held her gaze. “Does this seem bad to you?”
He had a point. “This is paradise, but it means little unless there are people to share it with.”
“You’re here.”
“Temporarily,” she insisted.
Hi
s gaze probed for several long moments. Margo shifted beneath it, uncomfortable with the possessive intensity, yet part of her responded. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind spending time here on a permanent basis.
Suddenly, the mood changed and his eyes crinkled with his smile. It brought an automatic grin to her lips.
“Let’s go in.” He started peeling off his tank top and jeans.
Intrigued but not worried that he wouldn’t have a suit on underneath, Margo watched. Bright blue nylon flashed before he took a running leap and sliced into the water.
It didn’t take long for her to get ready. She hadn’t brought any of her swimsuits north and even if she had she wouldn’t put one on. They were all far too revealing to wear in front of Zane.
The minute she stepped into the cool water she knew she’d made a mistake. The cut-offs were fine. The large-size T-shirt, however, posed a different problem; it clung to her like skin, and the light pink became transparent when wet.
Margo groaned as she submerged. The loose folds of the shirt floated up and around her, leaving her further exposed. Thankfully Zane was occupied, swimming between the two large pools.
The cold water instantly took the heat from her body. It lapped refreshingly across her skin. She could float for days in here, she decided. Zane stroked by, reminding her again of her predicament.
Maybe she should get out and get the shirt dried before Zane joined her. Reluctantly, she left the refreshing water and made her way to the blanket. Taking a towel, she patted her shirt, trying to blot out as much moisture as possible. It didn’t do much good.
Margo glanced up at the giant redwoods that shaded most of the sandbar. She’d have to relocate if she was going to dry out. Carefully, she made her way to the flat boulder that jutted into the river. The rock was hard, but it felt warm on her cold skin. She leaned back and let the bright rays do their work.
Ripples gurgled past the rock. Rhythmic splashes alerted her to Zane’s whereabouts. He was nearing her rock, and she braced upon her elbows to watch his progress.
His body, sleek and moist, glistened in the sun. His strokes were smooth and powerful and it was a pleasure to watch him swim. But then, she admitted, it was a pleasure to watch him do anything: carve, hike, even sit.
Mid-stroke, he glanced at her and headed toward the rock. Quickly, she sat upright, pulling material away from her chest.
With one powerful stroke, he hauled his upper torso onto the edge of the rock. His bare legs dangled in the water where he continued to kick for balance.
“Aren’t you going to swim?” he asked.
“I think I’ll lie in the sun for a bit. It only took one dunking to cool me off,” she lied.
He grinned, the full-bodied grin that she loved to see crease the lines in his cheeks and crinkle his eyes. “A pansy, huh? I don’t think I should let you get away with that.”
“I’ll swim later. I have to be good and toasted.” She’d wait until he was napping on the blanket.
“There’s a ledge you can climb on behind the waterfall. Come on in and I’ll show you.”
Margo glanced at the water cascading into the pool. The idea of swimming over to it did appeal to her. Tempted, she slid closer to the edge of the rock. The view of Zane’s legs deterred her. She paused.
“Don’t tell me you don’t swim?” He clamped his fingers around her ankle and gave a tug.
Her reaction to his touch was instant. She stalled and stared into his eyes. The glints of mischief disappeared, to be replaced by a dark gleam.
Suddenly, his gaze shifted. His eyes widened while his grip tightened. She followed his line of vision and noticed her shirt had plastered against her chest.
His thumb traced the curve of her ankle. With a sudden flash of movement, Zane let go of her and then slid into the water. He swam several laps before Margo regained her composure enough to lie back on the rock and relax.
It was time to get control of emotions and get to the business that brought her here. As soon as Zane finished swimming they’d have a talk about his future plans. Idyllic scenes like this dream pool brought too many other considerations into being – the kind she had no business entertaining.
The hot rays finally dried the thin material of her T-shirt. The cut-offs would take longer, but that posed no problem. Suddenly, cold water trickled on her sun-warmed skin. She screamed and sat up.
Laughter surrounded her. She scowled, but her cheeks twitched from the smile she tried to hold back. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“Or what? I’ve never taken threats well,” he warned. “Maybe I should show you how mad they make me.”
With a mock growl, he swam toward the rock and hefted himself out of the water. Margo jumped out of the way and quickly headed for the sandbar.
“Don’t you dare.” She tried to sound firm, but laughter ruined the effect.
Before she reached the blanket, strong hands grabbed her waist. She swung around only to find herself hoisted into his arms. Too stunned at first, she ended up secure in his grasp. By the time her senses kicked into gear it was too late. He rushed past the overhanging ferns and walked deeper and deeper into the water. In agonizing seconds he was up to his waist.
“Don’t you dare set me down.” She tried to protest as she clamped her arms tight around his neck. “If I go in so do you.”
He lifted her higher against his chest. “You deserve this, you know?”
“Do I?” she asked and glanced into his eyes. They were as blue as the canopy of sky overhead.
He lowered her down. Icy water cooled her skin, but his touch heated. She forgot to scream as she continued to hold him. Sudden longings welled and blocked out the chills that bumped her flesh.
The teasing glint left his eyes. He dropped her legs and let them float against his.
“Are you cooled off now?” he asked, his voice husky and low, still a little teasing.
She shook her head. How could she be cool when her body was on fire? “Are you?”
He didn’t answer except to pull her body closer. His muscles flexed as his arms tightened. Gentle fingers massaged her back. She kicked her feet and pushed against his chest, needing to get out of his grasp.
“Are you worried?” He smiled.
She shook her head.
A sadness filled his eyes and he loosened his hold. “I’d never want to hurt you.”
Margo swam out of his arms and trod water. “You’re more gentle than you like to admit.”
“But there’re things I’ve done that…”
“Let’s go to shore and talk about it. Now’s the time.”
The conflict of indecision showed on his face as he stared. Finally he nodded before turning and swimming to the river’s edge. Water dripped from his body as he waded to shore and crossed the bar of sand where the blanket was spread. Shade from the nearby trees still crept across the secluded spot.
Margo found her footing and stood to wring out her T-shirt as best she could. It still clung, but she didn’t need to worry about it now. Zane sat, his gaze focused on the tops of the cliffs and his brow furrowed in contemplation. She settled on the other side of the blanket. Before she could initiate the conversation he started speaking.
“You want to discuss the past, but I’m not concerned with that. It’s over and done with. History. What worries me is the future. I’m afraid to think of it – afraid not to.”
“I can understand that,” she agreed. “But the future hinges on the past. What has gone before can undermine your confidence or eat away at your sense of worth. You need to discuss it with your therapist.”
“Am I really that far gone? You act as if I’ve dropped off the deep end.”
She stared into his eyes. He’d been stable this weekend. He’d taught her how to carve, and taught her the names of the local plants and animals. He’d even made her realize things about herself she’d never considered, not for a long time anyway. She’d been sent here to help Zane and, as it turned out, he’d done as much fo
r her.
Often she’d wondered if he really needed any help. Many times she didn’t think so. Most of the time she could swear he was more normal than she. But at moments like this, she realized there was something troubling him; something deep inside.
“You’ve isolated yourself from family and friends. Dropped out, so to speak. You claim it’s because of the decision with the fishing boat. But a single incident like that doesn’t send a man running to the hills.”
He frowned and she quickly went on. “My guess would be another decision made years ago or even a series of poor choices has made you suddenly wary of making more.”
Zane didn’t respond but sat tense and strained. The veins in his temple and neck raised and sweat beaded on his upper lip.
Margo continued. “It could be something you’ve done or something you witnessed that is festering in your subconscious.”
“And how is talking about it supposed to help?” True interest lay hidden in his sarcastic tone. “What’s done is done.”
“For one thing it gets it out in the open where you can examine it from all sides. Take the decision about the fishing boat. You may feel guilt about your choice of action. That’s the gut-level reaction because men almost lost their lives.” Engrossed in her theory, Margo tucked her legs under her and turned to face Zane. Not even the allure of the waterfall or the call of birds could distract her when she became serious and involved.
“But when you discuss and analyze the situation you see why you had to make the choice you did. It doesn’t alter the outcome, but it helps you to understand the motivations behind it. We’re human, Zane. We make bad choices. The thing to do is learn from them and move on.”
“Sometimes the lesson carries a high price. If those men had died…”
Margo waited for him to continue and when he didn’t she spoke, her voice quiet and sure. “If they had died, do you think you’re going to be better off by burying the experience?
“Me? What about them? Their families?”
Love's Miracles Page 18
