Mary Wine (15 page)

Chapter Ten

Time had seemed to crawl before. Now it completely froze. Jared was gone. Roshelle found herself searching for him, seeking any small trace. Her efforts yielded nothing—not even the familiar touch of his mind invading hers.

The house was her only piece of evidence that the man truly existed on this planet. As the days stretched past, Roshelle found herself questioning her grasp on reality. Because she felt him more completely than any other human, their separation hit her more harshly. Having forced his way into her thoughts, her mind felt empty without him.

She wandered from window to window, searching for any sign of movement between the two houses. Not even the trucks drove in for their nightly rotations. Just two lone sentries stood guard, their positions ever-changing as they moved about the grounds. It was almost hypnotic the way the men would try to blend into their surroundings. They never just stood some place, instead they would perch their bodies alongside trees and other natural objects. The way they could blend in with the landscape was downright eerie.

The only thing that time seemed to touch was the silly blanket that Roshelle had begun out of boredom. Her fingers would pick up the knitting needles as she counted the stitches off to one thousand. Then she would lay it aside as she moved through the house and took up her post at another window. Today as she reached for another skein of yarn, her fingers brushed the bottom of the wicker basket that held it. Her eyes flew to the blanket that stretched over her knees and onto the floor. The colors were jumbled because she had not been conscious of her efforts, simply stringing whatever color yarn came to hand onto the needles. A slow laugh rose up in her throat, the blanket was a mismatched blending of colors. But a silly smile lifted her face as she held it and enjoyed the fluffy weight of it.

What day was it?

Her stomach rumbled in protest. One of the most glaring changes was the fact that the kitchen was now completely stocked with food. Once a week the sentry would bring her a box of fresh food. Moving towards the kitchen her eyes looked in disbelief at the four cardboard boxes stacked neatly on top of the refrigerator.

A month? She had been walking around in a fog for a month! Good grief! Someone really needed to shoot her! Her stomach rumbled again and she began pulling food from the refrigerator. She was starving! Looking at the amount of spoiled vegetables it hit her that she had not been eating very much. In fact, her jeans rode low on her hips.

Well, if her current appetite were any indication, her clothing would fit again in no time! Jared was obviously off doing whatever it was he did for a living. There was no reason for her to moon about the house like a forgotten lapcat. But when he returned, they were going to have a talk about just what she was expected to do with her time.

A career in knitting just wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.

Maybe the sentry could give her some idea as to when Jared might be returning. Roshelle considered that but dismissed the idea. If someone wanted her to know where the man was, she would already know. There was another item for discussion with Jared. Communication was not the man’s strong point.

At least not the spoken form of communication. The way he slipped inside her mind caused them to commune on a much different level. Now that she had brought her thoughts to order, Roshelle discovered that she could feel Jared. It was faint without much definition but he was out there for her to touch. In her search for their deep connections, she had overlooked this small link.

Remind her to never fall in love again, she was terrible at it.

Her eyes popped open. She could not be in love with Jared. They didn’t just live in different worlds; they inhabited foreign planes of reality!

Ohh… She was lying to herself again!

Where was that man? She owed him one solid punch in the face for this! Falling in love was one hundred percent his doing! He brought her into his life. That made it his fault!

Cleaning the refrigerator out gave her something to do while her mind struggled with the dilemma of her emotions. Jared had warned her that finding out about his life came with a heavy price. Just what did that mean? Right now being associated with her might cost a person a great deal. Jared didn’t seem to be concerned.

But he was… Roshelle swayed on her feet as she discovered that idea. Jared was concerned, so much so that he had locked her up here to protect her. In fact, when she took the time to really concentrate on her feelings, she could find their meanings.

“You become accustomed to it.”

Roshelle stumbled back as she whipped about to confront her company. At first glance, the woman that stood in the doorway wasn’t the sort to cause concern; a second look at the emerald eyes told a much different story. Despite her height of just over five-foot, the way she held her body spoke volumes about her ability to defend herself. The slightest signs of age marked her years, but her hair was still coal black all the way to her temples. It sat coiled into tight braids that were pinned neatly on the top of her head. The hairstyle gave her a regal look that any queen would have envied. Even in middle life, this woman was by far one of the most beautiful women Roshelle had ever seen.

Despite her earlier conclusion that Jared’s mother must have been a drill sergeant, Roshelle sat facing a truth that was far more deadly. Her gender aside, the woman standing in front of her left no doubt in Roshelle’s mind that she was responsible for molding her son into the predator that he was.

“My name is Grace.”

“Grace?”

Now
that
Roshelle found funny. She just couldn’t help it. “Excuse me, I’m sorry.”

“What amuses you?”

Roshelle considered the woman’s half-closed eyes a moment. She seemed to be looking straight into her soul. So, there was absolutely no point in keeping her thoughts to herself. “Women who sing in the church choir should be named after virtues. Not a woman who look like she keeps company with commandos.”

A low laugh escaped the woman as her emerald eyes began to sparkle.

“I quite agree. They’re Rangers and very touchy on the topic of which branch of service they belong to.”

Roshelle let her lips twitch up into a full smile. “I guess it’s a good thing Jared’s not here, because I’m not exactly sure which branch Rangers belong to.”

Now it was Grace’s turn to be amused. “Army.”

“Hmm…then again, maybe it would have been fun to watch him bristle.”

“That frank sense of honesty must get you into trouble, doctor.”

Roshelle sent a wink at Jared’s mother before responding, “People take life too seriously. At least that’s my opinion.”

Grace moved her eyes over the girl standing in her son’s kitchen. She was delightfully honest. Most people employed a large amount of dishonesty in their every thought. Roshelle Everitt did not seem to follow that rule. It was very interesting, so was her grasp of mental phenomenon. While the girl lacked training, the gift was there.

Grace returned to Roshelle’s face looking for something that nagged at her. The feel of this girl was somewhat familiar, as were her features. A distant memory pulled at her mind.

“It’s funny what parents name their children sometimes. They always have complete faith in the names they choose.”

“You are young to have a medical doctorate.”

“My grandmother believed in chasing down a goal with all due speed.”

Grace already knew far more about Roshelle than the information her response gave her. The object of questioning her was to see what manner of personality she had. Of all her sons, Jared was the most like her. Any female that could manage to evoke such strong emotions in her eldest cub was worth investigating.

Especially when she arrived under such complex circumstances.

It wasn’t that Jared’s mother was easy to read, but Roshelle could clearly see that the woman was testing her. It was the way her emerald eyes sat inspecting her. Keeping her shoulders straight, Roshelle refused to shrink before her. The similarities between parent and offspring were amazing.

“What are you thinking about me?” Grace’s eyes snapped as she asked the question.

“That your son learned a great deal at your knee.”

Roshelle’s bluntness pleased the woman. She lifted her mouth into a smile momentarily. “Find your boots; there are things we need to discuss.”

“I only wish I could find them. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Grace turned back around with an unpleasant look in her emerald eyes. She focused on Roshelle’s bare feet a moment before she slowly nodded her head.

“You may blame my husband for that despicable method of confining you to this house. I did not raise my sons to believe females incapable of fending for themselves.”

The idea of Sheriff Campbell taking this woman’s shoes to control her brought another wave of amusement to Roshelle.

“Somehow, I don’t think it’s quite so effective when used on you.”

“It is not.” Grace let a smile play across her face as she considered Roshelle a moment. “But I will be most disappointed to discover you have not tried to leave this house in spite of that restriction.”

“She left and came back needing a medic.”

Jared’s voice appeared out of nothing as he tossed his information out like a judgment. Roshelle jumped and looked to find him standing in the doorway as if he’d been there for a week. His mother raised a questioning look at him.

“We dusted the area in shell rock before beginning construction.”

“I knew you put all those rocks out there!”

Instead of looking guilty, Jared’s face told her he was considering ordering another load. His eyes moved over her face touching on the blush that slowly rose up in greeting.

“It’s nice to know you missed me, Roshelle.”

The way he rolled her name caused the blush to deepen. Pressing her lips together, Roshelle cursed at nature for creating a male so very destructive to her control. Gone for a month and not even a note?

“You were gone?”

Grace almost choked on the innocent tone Roshelle used for her question. Their guest stood with her hands folded over her chest while she stared down her opponent. If matters were not so pressing, Grace would have left them to their tussle. Her son’s face clearly expressed his desire to crush Roshelle’s evasion.

Neither of them would break but Grace would bet that both of them would get very little sleep tonight as they…discussed it. The fact that Jared didn’t intimidate Roshelle was most interesting. It was also a relief to discover that Jared wouldn’t take to wife some hothouse flower.

Cursed fickle male. Jared was entirely too sure of her! Her eyes narrowed to mere slits as they glared at him. Something caught her eye and she moved her attention to it. Dangling from Jared’s hands were her boots. The prospect of an outing brought an embarrassing amount of joy to her. Jared gave her a particularly bright grin as he noticed her interest in the footwear.

“Looking for these?”

“Not at all.”

She would walk to China on those rocks first! His mother had already left; Roshelle set her eyes on the woman’s departing figure. Picking her own feet up, she made to follow her. Jared might be able to get her flesh to bleed but she would not be reduced to begging for her shoes!

“I’m sorry.”

The very simplicity of those words stopped her. Not once had Jared ever even hinted that his actions might have caused him remorse. The fact that he felt it now over her bruised feelings seemed almost a gift. His apology drove home just how appalling her behavior was.

“I missed you.”

She better have, because her soft brown eyes had burned into his soul.

“Come over here.”

Her cheeks turned scarlet while her eyelids fluttered, but she came. Just like a feline, her steps were slowly enticing as she approached him. Slim hands gently settled on top of his chest as she stretched up to place the lightest of kisses on his mouth.

“I’m not afraid of you, Jared. Stop scowling at me.”

She whispered the words in a voice rich with budding passion. Cupping his hands over the cheeks of her bottom he raised her up to the proof of his own desire. Her eyes darkened to liquid gold as she adjusted herself to fit him.

“You should be, Roshelle. You really should be.”

Because Jared didn’t think he’d ever be able to let her go. His mouth settled on top of hers to seal out any further opportunity for speech. Jared would let his body speak for him. Their tongues mingled as they both dispensed with their single personalities.

His mother was waiting but Roshelle didn’t care. Jared was home. Her legs twisted around him as she pulled at the fabric covering his body. Life was full of ugly realities that only a union with his flesh could drive away. As her hands peeled his shirt from his chest, she inhaled that warm scent of his skin while she pushed her fingers through the tangle of black hair.

It was base and primal, and Roshelle felt an answering scream within herself. Clawing and scratching, she met him with the same ferocious need. They both cast aside any form of civilization as the needs of primal emotion were heeded.

* * * * *

“Jared was there when you left?”

Grace continued to pour hot water into a ceramic mug as Jacobs asked her the same question once again. Her fingers slowly unwrapped a teabag next.

“Grace.”

“Relax, Jacobs. I imagine they’ll be along as soon as they put their clothes back on.”

Colonel Jason Jacobs tilted his head to the side as her words sunk in. Forty years working with her and Grace still surprised him with her lack of concern for social moral codes. She had left two healthy young adults together and seemed to have no illusions as to what they would be about. In fact, she expected it of them. The realities of nature were no cause for concern for Grace.

“I think that’s a fine idea. Let’s put our clothes back on, too.” Brice Campbell issued his opinion from his post at the kitchen counter.

Grace didn’t need to point out to her husband that they would need to take their clothes off first, the look in his eyes told her just how much he’d missed her. One day or six months, it never mattered. There was no room for false modesty between them.

The look in his wife’s eyes told Brice she was more than receptive to his idea. She sat carefully folded into an armchair watching him, waiting for him to claim her back into his bed. Three sons and thirty years of marriage had not erased this ceremony. Every time they were separated, she would wait for the invitation to return to his bed.

Jacobs knew it as well. The huge man simply left the house as he sought out his own wife. Beth would be standing on the porch. Rain, snow or sun, his blue-eyed wife would stand on that porch from the moment she heard his helicopter set down.

Grace watched her mate, his hand extended out in a gesture she had committed to memory. Rising to her feet, she placed her own into his grip. Now, she was home.