Jenny Cussler's Last Stand (23 page)

Clint pulled her head to his chest and laughed. The rumble tickled her face.

“How about I blame it on a mutual attraction?”

A thrill of delight ran from Jenny’s toes to the top of her head with an extended stay near her heart.

“Okay,” she mumbled agreeably.

“I thought...” His voice rumbled again.

“Hmmmm?” She nuzzled her face against the front of his T-shirt and reveled in his scent.

“Well, I thought...you and Steve...?”

She reached up to kiss the bottom of his chin.

“No, not me and Steve. That’s something else. There’s no me and Steve.”

Clint responded by tightening his hold on her. She felt him kiss the top of her head, and wondered if she could feel any more joy. It didn’t seem possible.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear you say that,” he murmured into her hair, before setting her from him. “You need to get some sleep. I can’t have you falling asleep in my group. It’ll make me look bad.” The grin on his face made her chuckle. “Go get back in your sleeping bag. I’ll be right next door.” He pushed her gently from him.

You seem to know what you want and go after it.

“Stay with me,” she begged, his words echoing in her ear. She felt certain that wasn’t an apt description of her, but anything seemed possible tonight.

Clint, straightening out the top sleeping bag, paused. He stared hard at her. Even in the moonlight, she could see the continued desire in his eyes, and she knew it matched her own.

“We’ll just sleep. I promise. Stay with me. You can take one sleeping bag and I’ll take the other.” She thanked the dark night he could not see her face flaming.

“Not likely,” Clint said. “If I’m staying with you, we’re sleeping in the same bag.” Her heart flopped at his sheepish smile. “Just don’t take advantage of me. We can’t do anything tonight, as much as I want to.” With a shaky laugh, he pulled the top of the sleeping bag open and indicated she should crawl in.

Jenny slid back inside the heavy cover and Clint followed, pulling the sleeping bags over them both. Jenny held her breath...hoping... Would he take her in his arms? Hold her throughout the night? She wondered if her lungs would burst from anticipation.

Clint did indeed slip his arm behind her head and pulled her to his chest. She lifted her face to his and wrapped her arms around his neck, suddenly emboldened in the dark. His slow, melting kiss seemed to explore her soul, and she gave herself up to the bliss of his mouth on hers. Her body began to move against his in an aching desire to join with him. She longed to crawl inside his shirt and feel his skin on hers.

Clint startled her by suddenly grabbing her hips, but Jenny welcomed the sensation...until she realized he had flipped her over so that she rested on her side...away from him.

Warm breath whispered in her ear. “Go to sleep, or we’ll do something we will both regret.”

Jenny turned her head indignantly—or at least she tried to, but he pulled her back toward him in spoon fashion, laid his head against hers, and whispered again.

“Shhhhh. Sleep, Jenny. Sleep.” He began to hum a soft tune she suspected had Native American origin, a quiet peaceful sound that vibrated against her back.

Jenny’s rigid body relaxed, though she would never have thought it possible. She closed her eyes and listened to his haunting melody like a baby absorbing a lullaby. Clint’s strong arm around her body would keep the vampires away. She breathed deeply and felt the slowing of her heart.

“Goodnight, Jenny Cussler.”

“Goodnight, Clint. I’m glad you’re here with me,” she mumbled over a yawn.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

Jenny drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face wondering if he had indeed called her “sweetheart.”

****

Clint heard Jenny’s breath slowing. He dared not move for fear of waking her once again. If she did awaken and turn to him one more time, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold back again. He desperately wanted to make love to her, but he wasn’t prepared tonight. In fact, he didn’t remember the last time he’d actually had to think about protection. At least a year or two, as best he could recall.

At any rate, Clint knew full well the physical aspect of this was the least of his concerns. He wasn’t ready to make love to Jenny because he didn’t know how she truly felt about him.

He had a pretty good inkling that he was well on his way to falling in love with the beautiful redhead who confused him morning, noon, and night. Two days seemed way too soon to be falling in love, and he was pretty sure what Gary would say...that he was in lust...not love. His dad was another story. He wasn’t quite sure what Dad would say...even about the fact that the woman he was crazy about was white.

Clint tried to remember any discussions he and his father had ever had about white people, but nothing particular came to mind. His dad golfed with white men from the golf course, a mixed club, and he never brought up any issues of racism.

His mother, on the other hand, had preferred that he date Indian girls...which he had done, to please her, when he first came back to the reservation. But nothing had panned out.

“Clint, I need some good-looking dark-haired grandbabies. When are you going to find a nice Indian girl and settle down? I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

He hadn’t known his mother would die so early. He wondered now...if he had known she would pass away soon, would he have brought home a “nice Indian girl” as a fiancée to please her?

A slight movement from Jenny and a soft catch in her breath made him pull her tighter against his chest.

There was no way of knowing, now. His mother was gone, and Jenny was here. But would she stay? Or would she return to Boise, never to contact him again? His jaw tightened at the thought. Would they become pen pals, meeting once a month or so...at some place in the middle of the six-hour drive? He tried to remember what towns lay between Boise and Toppenish.

Jenny mumbled something indecipherable in her sleep. He kissed the top of her head but forced himself to hold back from burying his face in her sweet-scented hair.

He wasn’t ready...not for love...not for her. She’d come at such an unexpected time in his life. Work, a few nights at the local gym, and an occasional golf game with his dad had filled his days, no, years. He quite simply did not know what to do about Jenny, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to let her go.

A slight movement of her face revealed a slender neck, and he couldn’t help but kiss the soft skin below her ear.

She stirred and turned her face to his.

Chapter Sixteen

Jenny kept her eyes on the floor as members of the group took turns with the talking stick. Some of the stories were particularly poignant, especially those of the two young Army soldiers who had been stationed in Iraq together. They described a sense of pervasive fear and anxiety that stayed with them even after their return home, the loss of friends and comrades who had sat next to them only moments before being killed by the explosions of roadside bombs, the overly concerned looks in their families’ eyes as they stared at their sons...husbands...brothers, newly returned from the war zone, as if they were somehow different.

Normally, in a therapy session, she would favor the client with her undivided attention and full eye contact, but it seemed especially appropriate here in this Native American setting to observe the custom of politely looking down while the young men spoke of their grief and confusion. She did, however, have to wipe at her eyes a few times.

Other group members sat in their seats and shared personal difficulties or experiences they’d had while working with combat veterans in the hospitals of the Department of Veterans Affairs. She knew their pain and frustration with the aftermath of war.

She allowed her eyes to travel the floor occasionally to rest on Clint’s gray hiking boots. She dared not peek at his face, having lost her bold courage of the previous night. When Clint woke her with a lingering kiss to her lips to announce it was 5:30 a.m. and the camp would soon be stirring, Jenny had kissed him quickly, jumped out of the sleeping bag, and set herself to straightening and folding the covers. She had given him a bright smile and hurried off to the restroom, knowing he stood staring after her with a perplexed look on his face.

She’d washed her face with cold water and wondered if indeed she were the vampire, able to come alive only at night when darkness enveloped and cloaked her, only then allowed to show the man she adored how she felt.

If she’d had her way last night, she had no doubt she would have made love to Clint. And it would have been wonderful. She was sure of that.

She looked down at her own feet encased in tennis shoes. But to what end? Where would they go from here? Would she leave camp in a few days to return to Boise...never to hear from him again? Would they call each other occasionally, perhaps meeting once a month in that small town on a river, the name of which escaped her, midway between her home and his? Could she ever convince him to come to her? Why should she? This was his home. It was not her home, though. She recalled the general signs of poverty she’d seen in the town below.

“Well, I think it’s time to take a break, folks.” Clint’s feet moved beneath him, and he rose. Jenny dropped her eyes and turned to Kate with a stretch.

“Boy, I’m tired this morning,” she mumbled over a yawn. She followed Kate’s lead and stood.

“Any visits last night?” Kate eyed her archly as they moved out the door to grab some fresh air.

Jenny blushed. “Well, as a matter of fact. It seems I had a nightmare and woke up screaming.”

“So, he spent the night in his SUV again? Man, that guy’s got it bad for you.” Kate nudged Jenny with her elbow as they walked toward the restroom.

“Oh, please...”

“Soooo?? What happened?”

Jenny chuckled. “He fought off the vampires and stood guard over me all night.”

“Vampires again, huh?”

Jenny pushed open the door of the restroom and crossed over to the sink to wash her face. Cold water was what she needed. Dark circles under her eyes spoke of lack of sleep, albeit a delicious lack of sleep in the arms of a handsome man.

“So, what do you mean he stood guard over you all night? I could really interpret that in many ways. Better fill me in,” Kate said briskly when she emerged from one of the stalls.

Jenny heard a noise and put a finger to her lips. She bent low and saw a pair of feet inside one of the stalls, the positioning of which indicated the owner of the feet was standing near the door.

Kate waggled her eyebrows and shook her head.

“So, are you enjoying the group, Kate?” Jenny shook her head as well in response and headed for the door. As she grabbed it, she heard the stall door open, and Celia emerged.

“Oh, hey,” Kate said with shaking shoulders and a wide grin.

“Is everything all right, Jenny? I couldn’t help overhearing...” Celia paused at the sink to stare at the two women standing by the closed door.

“Me? Oh, sure. I was just telling Kate I had a nightmare last night.”

“Oh.” Celia hesitated. “Is that why you’re sleeping in your van?”

Jenny’s quick intake of breath was matched by Kate’s exasperated sigh.

“How did you know?” Jenny laughed nervously. What had Celia seen? Would she spread the information? What would happen to Clint? “I mean, yeah, I’ve been sleeping in the van. I’m too claustrophobic to sleep in the cabin with a bunch of women. You wouldn’t think of telling anyone, would you?”

Celia turned away to wash her hands.

“Probably not, right, Celia?” Kate moved forward, and Jenny feared her friend might smack Celia, such was the narrow-eyed look on her face.

Celia saw her coming and quickly grabbed some paper towels to dry her hands before taking a step back.

“What? Me? Oh, no. Why would I tell anyone? What Jenny does is none of my business, though I think it’s probably not very safe sleeping in a van when there are so many strange men around. You don’t know who might be peeking in the windows.” She arched an eyebrow and gave them an uneasy half smile. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better be getting back to group.”

She motioned toward the door, which was effectively barred by both Jenny and Kate. Jenny opened the door and indicated Celia should precede her, which Celia did, although she fairly leapt out the door as she passed by.

“Witch,” Kate spat out as they followed her out, though Celia’s quickened step had already taken her out of hearing range.

“I wonder what she saw,” Jenny fretted.

“What do you mean?” Kate paused and stared hard at her. “What should she have seen?”

Jenny blushed. “Well, nothing specific, but Clint did sleep in the van with me...you know...after the nightmare.”

Kate gave a short, sharp laugh. “Hah! So that’s what you meant by standing guard all night. Well, she might have seen more than you wanted, then. Especially if she saw Clint getting into the van.”

“I wonder how she knew I was in there.” Jenny began to walk back toward the group room, certain she would not now or ever be able to look Clint in the eyes again. “Oh, for Pete’s sake! What if she looked in the window?”

“Would she have seen anything?” Kate added. “Hmmm?”

“Well, yes, she would have, but not for long.”

“Not for long? Are you saying...? What do you mean, not for long? That doesn’t sound like much to write home about.”

“Good gravy, Kate. Not that. We didn’t... That is... He wouldn’t.
I
definitely would have, but he...”

They neared the communal area and Jenny broke off.

“Things have definitely moved along, haven’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Jenny whispered with a harried search of the area for eavesdropping ears. “It’s all too confusing. I think I need a retreat from the retreat...so to speak.”

“It’s the mountain,” Kate raised her eyes toward the trees and waved her arms expansively. “It’s just magical.”

Jenny snorted and re-entered the group room. Luckily, Clint had not yet returned from wherever it was he had gone to, but Celia sat primly in her chair with her legs crossed and a mysterious smile in their direction as she conversed with a man sitting to her left.