Speechless (11 page)

Stone watched her as the orgasm faded. She gave him a
relaxed, sleepy smile.

Perfect. I don’t know how you did half of what you did
tonight, but it was perfect.

I’m glad. Eva…

I love you. He wanted to say it. It was climbing up his
throat, was going to come out whether he consciously said it or not, but he
knew she didn’t want to hear it. So he pushed the declaration down.
I’m
going to make sure you’re safe. Always
.

I know.
She put a hand to his cheek and held it
there, lessening the loss when she unwrapped her leg from over his hip.

Stone kissed her, deep and lingering, wishing he could pull
her whole body into his, breathe her into him, keep her taste always on his
tongue. One final kiss to say goodnight, then he let her fall asleep and
followed soon after, his penis still nestled in her folds.

Morning came all too soon for Stone’s taste. He lay in bed,
enjoying Eva’s warmth and wishing they had somewhere else to go. He would not
relish the reunion that was coming today and wondered whether they would even
let him onto the property. He’d called ahead, but no one had answered the phone
and he’d left a message on the machine. He knew they would welcome Eva, if only
as a victim of his irresponsibility. And hospitality was one of the binding
rules of the South and Kentucky in particular. She’d be safe there, even if he
was sent packing, probably safer than with him. But he wasn’t sure he was
capable of leaving her and he doubted she would want to stay alone. Well, no
sense worrying about it. Worry wouldn’t change his reception.

He nudged Eva. “Time to wake up.” She yawned and stretched
and smiled at him and the day immediately improved.

* * * * *

Eva watched the hills spread out below them as Stone drove
up the narrow road. Apart from the cabin where Stone first took her, she had
never been anywhere so rural, even when she’d been hiking in the mountains,
small towns full of boutiques and art galleries had dotted the New England
landscape. Here, it had been an hour since they’d passed anything more than a
shabby bar or homegrown quick-mart. No wonder Stone wanted to hide out here—it
would be impossible to find anyone in these backwoods if you didn’t know
exactly where to look and how to get there.

The road they were on crept up a hill, switching back every
few hundred yards. Eva was glad she wasn’t driving and at each switchback was
glad they were in an SUV. They rounded a final curve and crested the hill and
suddenly they were in someone’s front yard. An old-fashioned weather-beaten
farmhouse, any paint it might ever have had long peeled away, stood in the
middle of the open space, surrounded by fresh-mown hay, a few old cars and
trucks and beyond it a barn, its big sliding door wide open, but revealing
nothing but darkness.

A man wearing a long-sleeved work shirt and faded blue jeans
and carrying a pitchfork came out of the barn toward the car while Stone pulled
up among all the other vehicles—Eva counted an old Firebird, a beat-up blue
pickup truck and an only slightly newer sedan. She looked at Stone.

These are the people we’re staying with?

I hope so. This is my family’s place, where I grew up.

He got out of the car before she could ask any of the dozen
questions that immediately filled her head and she followed suit.

The man with the pitchfork—Eva could see now that he was an
older man, with gray hair and lines on a face that looked a lot like
Stone’s—squared up with Stone and the two stared at each other for a long moment.
Finally, the older man spoke.

“Wot the hayill ur you doin he-ya?” His accent was so thick
it took Eva a moment to decipher his words, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Did you get the message I left?” Stone asked.

“Yee-ah. We got it, but it din’t say nothin’.”

“I want you to meet someone, Dad.” Eva recognized his
avoidance of his father’s question, but she stepped forward when he gestured to
her. “This is Eva James. We’re…” He looked at her a moment, “Together.”

Eva smiled and held out her hand. Stone’s father shook it.
“Together, huh? What’s that s’posed to mean?”

Eva looked to Stone, curious how he would answer, suspecting
that he’d wanted to say something more when he’d first introduced her.

“It means that she’s my…girlfriend.”
I hate that word
.

Eva smiled, understanding his dislike and understanding the
lack of a better word.
Am I really your girlfriend?

Yes. And so much more.

“Well, Eva,” Stone’s father said, “welcome to our home.”

She smiled her thanks.

“What’s the matter? Cat gotcher tongue?”

Her smiled faded a bit. Yes, the cat had her tongue. Again
she turned to Stone.

“Eva’s mute, Dad. She can’t talk.”

“Why not? Was she raised by wolves or something?”

Eva’s smile disappeared completely and suddenly the family
resemblance was less strong and she began to wonder if this man could possibly
be Stone’s father.

“She was born without functioning vocal cords. There’s
nothing more to it than that.” Stone took Eva’s hand in his and squeezed.
I’m
sorry, Eva. His heart is good. He just doesn’t always think before he speaks.

Every now and then she encountered a completely insensitive
person who thought that her inability to speak also indicated either that she
couldn’t hear or that she was mentally challenged. But this was the first time
someone had asked if she’d been raised by wolves. Probably, a few years down
the road, she would be able to tell the story with a smile, but not at the
moment.

A screen door slammed and Eva saw that a woman had come out
onto the house’s front porch.

“Is that you, Jacob? Who’s that you’ve brought with you?”

At first, Eva thought she was calling to Stone’s father and
she tried to puzzle out what she was asking. But then the man turned and called
back.

“Yeah, it’s him!” He faced his son. “Go on in, boy. She’s
been in a tizzy since she heard your voice on that machine.”

Eva shook her head and looked at Stone as they started
across the yard behind his father.
Jacob?

That’s my given name. Jacob Corbin.

When were you going to tell me?
She’d known, almost
from the very beginning, that Stone Peters was probably not his real name.
Still, it hurt that she’d had to learn what it was from his family, that he
hadn’t seen fit to tell her himself.

I’m sorry. I should have told you. I never use it
anymore. It didn’t even occur to me. My father’s name is John. My mother is
Marie. My older brother is John, too, but he goes by his middle name, David.

No sisters?

But they reached the porch before he could answer and
Stone’s father was speaking.

“And he brought a dumb woman with him.”

The woman gave him a stern look. “Don’t be cruel, John. I’m
sure she’s very intelligent, especially if she’s a friend of Jacob’s.”

Stone spoke up. “He’s not being cruel, Mom. He means that
she can’t speak. Eva, this is my mother, Marie. Mom, Eva James.”

Eva held out her hand, but Marie pulled her into an embrace.
“Welcome, my dear. If you managed to catch Jacob’s attention, you must be
special indeed. Come in, both of you. So, tell me how you two met and what
brings you here now. A mother needs to know these things.”

The farmhouse kitchen was big and inviting even if the
floral wallpaper had faded from its heyday. The sink and green 1970s-era
refrigerator were on one side of the room, the stove on the other, with a table
easily big enough for eight in the center. Marie sat them at the table and,
whirlwind-like, put cookies on a plate, pulled a pitcher of iced tea from the
refrigerator and filled glasses with ice. She set her offerings before them and
sat across from them.

“Well?”

Eva looked at Stone.
This is your show, Stone. I couldn’t
tell the story even if I knew what to tell.

They don’t know what I do and it’s better that they don’t
know about Thailand
.

So we’re going with the old “international consultant”
line, huh?

Stone laughed and his mother gave him a curious look. “Is it
a funny story?”

“Not really.” Stone told almost the exact truth, about his
being at the cabin and Eva’s accident. He left out the attack on the cabin, the
flight out and the showdown in the train station, glossing all those events
over with the true-but-vague “We got Eva back to civilization and went our own
ways, then bumped into each other again later.”

“Jacob, you can’t expect me to believe that you came all the
way out here just to introduce me to your girlfriend. I know you too well for that.
When you left this place, you shook the dust off your feet and never looked
back. I’m glad to see you, but it’s time for you to be straight with me. In
fifteen years Eva is your first girlfriend?”

Eva had taken a cookie when Marie held the plate out to her,
but as Stone/Jacob talked, she turned it in her hands, breaking off bits and
letting them fall to the little pile forming on her napkin.

“She’s not my first girlfriend, but she’s the first I’ve
ever felt this way about. The first I’ve ever felt completely connected to and
comfortable with. She’s the first one I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life
making happy.”

Eva’s head jerked up at his words and she stared at him.
Is
that true?

More true than you know.

“I’m happy for you, Jacob. And I’m happy for Eva, because
you’ve always done everything you ever set out to do. But I still don’t believe
she’s why you’re here.”

A long silence hung over them. Eva fished a chocolate chip
out of her cookie crumbs and when it seemed neither of the other two would say
anything, she reached across the table and touched Marie’s hand. When she had
the older woman’s attention, she mimed writing and put a question on her face.

“Paper and pencil? Yes, I think there’s something around.”
She got up and went to the counter where papers and mail seemed to have
collected. A phone hung on the wall above the clutter. Finally Marie came back
with a small pad of paper and a short pencil. She sat again and pushed them
across the table. Eva pondered for a moment, tapping the pencil against the
pad, trying to decide what to tell. Stone’s parents deserved some form of the
truth, but he was right that they didn’t need all of it.

“Eva, what are you doing?” Stone demanded, but Eva just
stared him to silence.

She pulled the pad close and wrote, “Jacob witnessed a crime
and the authorities suggested keeping a low profile for a while.”

She tore the page off the pad and handed it to Stone first
and then, when he nodded, to Marie.

“So you’re back here to hide out from some mobster or
something?”

“Or something,” Stone said. “I’d been thinking about coming
back anyway and this was the last push I needed.”

Stone’s mother gave him a long look then nodded. “Well,
whatever the truth of the matter, I’m really glad you’re here. A mother can’t
go so long without seeing her boy.” She pushed her chair back from the table,
“Now, let’s get you two settled. Eva, you’ll be in the boys’ room. Jacob,
you’ll be on the couch.”

“Where’s David?” Stone asked.

“In town. He’s teaching in the high school, you know and
spends the nights at his fiancée’s house during the week so he doesn’t have to
drive so far in the mornings. He’ll be back Friday night. Now go get your
things from the car.”

* * * * *

“The boys’ room” held a double bed with no head or
footboards, just the mattresses on a frame, and a yard-sale dresser, the type
with drawers that didn’t slide well and flaking varnish. The walls were painted
an odd green, somewhere between pea and moss. The bedspread was the old-fashioned
nubbly white kind. Eva set her duffel bag and briefcase on the floor next to
the dresser. She knelt quickly and retrieved her tablet, so she felt a little
more communicative, a little less out of the loop.

She typed quickly, “It’s a lovely room. Thank you for your
welcome.”

Marie smiled. “I’m delighted you’re here, my dear. Jacob’s
never brought a girl home with him before, even when he lived here. I always
thought he was ashamed of us.”

Eva gave a small smile and a shake of her tilted head, to say,
“I’m sure that’s not true,” then touched Marie’s shoulder, “you’re a delightful
person.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet. I’ll give you a few minutes to rest
and put your feet up. Just come downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

Eva caught Stone’s gaze as he stood in the door way.
Your
mother’s a lot like you,
she told him.

“In what way?”

She’s very perceptive.
Eva smiled.
And
good-hearted.

Stone shook his head. “You don’t know me very well.”

His mother’s voice called from downstairs, “Jacob! Leave Eva
alone so she can get some rest.”

He smiled at her. “See you later.”

Eva didn’t think she needed the rest Marie urged her to
take, but when she sat down on the bed, all her energy just flowed out of her.
She supposed she’d been running on adrenaline all this time, from the moment
she made the decision to use the restroom in the train station—how long ago was
that now? She’d lost track of the days and nights. With everything that had
happened—the man in the train station, seeing Stone again, their lovemaking,
the story he’d told her and their long drive—it was no wonder she was tired.
Maybe Marie was more perceptive than Eva had realized. A short nap wouldn’t
hurt. She kicked off her shoes and lay down, pulling the bedspread over her
against the autumn chill.

Next thing she knew, Stone’s voice urged her to wake up.
“Eva, time to get up.”

She took a moment before opening her eyes to listen and feel
the space around her. Voices drifted in from somewhere, but she couldn’t
distinguish the words. As she woke more, she remembered where they were and the
room where she had lain down to nap. She opened her eyes and stretched, looking
a question at Stone, who sat next to her on the bed.

“It’s supper time,” he answered. “You slept all day.”

Eva scowled and pushed him off the bed so she could sit up.

“The bathroom is right next door. Mom says the blue towels
are yours.”

Eva quickly washed her face and ran a brush though her hair,
straightened her clothes the best she could, then ran downstairs to find John,
Marie and Stone gathered in the kitchen. Marie was filling serving dishes with
fried chicken and mashed potatoes while Stone set the table.

Eva crossed to Marie and held out her hands in an offer to
help. “No, dear. I’ve got everything. Tonight, you’re company. Tomorrow, you’re
family. There will be plenty to help with then.”