The Edge of Recall (36 page)

He would revise the schedule when they were through this. Surprising how the project that had seemed so vital had lost significance. He hoped he’d be able to rekindle the earlier enthusiasm, though a little matter of life and death had put it in perspective.

Bair tipped his head. “How are you?”

“Up and down.”

“Tessa?”

“Fragile. Yet strangely resilient.”

“Not as resilient as you might think.”

“I know, Bair. Believe me.”

Moments after Bair left, Tessa opened her eyes. Her disorientation was adorable. “It’s all right,” he said, but she pushed up to sit.

“I cannot believe I fell asleep.”

“That’s what happens when you haven’t had any rest.”

“How long was I out?”

“A while.”

She rubbed her eyes, then let her hands fall to her lap. “At least no one saw me.”

“That’s not … exactly true.”

She turned, dismayed. “Who?”

“Only a nurse or two, and Bair.”

She groaned. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“And spoil the first good sleep you’ve had in how long?” He took her hand. “If it’s any consolation, the last five hours did more for my healing than anything since you pulled me out of that hole.”

She slanted him a look. “Tell me you didn’t say five hours.”

“I slept for half of them.”

She expelled a long, slow breath. “I outslept the patient?”

“I had somewhat of a head start, a few days’ worth.”

She slipped off the bed. “I should have known better than to lie down. Although the last thing I thought I could do was sleep.”

“I told you I’d take care of you.” The look she gave him pierced his heart. Was that so hard for her to believe?

Two long days later, Tessa met Bair outside Smith’s door. “How is he?”

“Impatient. He’s never been hurt before. No broken bones, no teeth knocked loose. He thought he’d be walking out long before this.”

“Have they said when?” She tried not to sound as anxious as she felt, but the wait was draining her.

“Probably tomorrow. The important thing is for him to realize he’s not a hundred percent. But Smith, you know, he always thinks he’s a hundred and ten.”

She did know. She touched Bair’s arm in passing and went inside. Smith’s color had improved; his breathing seemed less strained, but his hair stood out around the cowlick and he looked irritable.

She smiled. “Hi.”

He reached for her hand. “Tell me you’ve brought my release papers.”

“I wish I could.”

“I know you’re tired of waiting, but there’s a conspiracy to keep me bedridden.” He dropped his head back, exasperated.

“You’re not helping by stressing everyone out.”

“Stressing them? I’m the one being told to breathe into this, cough into that. Rest and relax while we poke and bleed you.”

“Hmm.” She untangled his call button. “I would have guessed you a stoic patient.”

“I don’t know what more they want from me. I walk, I talk, I eliminate.” He winced as he shifted position. “Besides, I thought you wanted to go.”

“I need to.”

He reached over and took her hand. “Come here.”

She moved closer.

“All the way.”

She shook her head. She had not climbed into the bed since that first time. Lying next to Smith had all but eliminated her defenses against the feelings she had for him, and the shell that was left could crumble without warning.

His tone softened. “Are you all right?”

She shrugged. “I need to deal with it.” She had kept the nightmares at bay by hardly sleeping more than an hour or two at night. She could not go on indefinitely.

He said, “I’d leave now if they’d let me out.”

“Then stop spiking a fever so they do.” And so she wouldn’t keep worrying that maybe they’d missed something, maybe this wasn’t over, maybe a million other things could go wrong.

“I can’t stand doing nothing.” Smith rubbed his eyes under the spare pair of rimless glasses Bair had brought in.

She hadn’t noticed his other pair missing until she saw him straining to read the pocket New Testament Bair had brought him early on. He must have lost his glasses in the attack, because the rain had pooled in his eye sockets. That image might never fade.

“Do you want your laptop?”

“Bair brought it.”

“Phone?”

“Your friend Donny pinched it.”

“It’s probably in the cistern.” She wrinkled her brow. “Unless they’ve cleared it out. Did the sheriff tell you?”

“No. Since I didn’t press charges, and Dr. Brenner took away his suspect, he seems to have washed his hands of it.”

“I wonder how he is.”

“The sheriff?”

“No. Donny.”

“Please don’t expect me to commiserate.”

She didn’t. How could he? “What do you think they’ll do with the books and things he collected?”

“Give them back to their rightful owners.”

“It was his whole world.”

“Except for all the places he nicked the things.”

“But the cistern meant everything to him. That’s why he had to defend it.”

Smith sighed. “All right, I pity the culprit.”

“Who’s also a victim.”

Smith took her hand. “But still capable of choices.”

“He could have killed us and no one would have known about his secret place.”

“If you weren’t so compassionate, we would not have made it out.”

“He didn’t want to hurt us, Smith.”

“You, he didn’t want to hurt. He had no qualms about dunking me in the well.”

She smiled. “I’ve wanted to dunk you a few times myself.”

“That goes without saying.” He tugged her by the arm until their faces were inches apart. “There’s one medicine I’m missing.”

Her heart thumped. “The therapeutic kiss?”

“Quite.”

“You haven’t charmed it out of the nurses?”

“Very few sources are curative.”

“Did you learn that in school?”

“From my mother, the originator of the therapeutic kiss. However, I’ve outgrown that variety.”

The last person who had kissed him was Danae, and she had no doubt it was the adult version.

He saw her hesitation and guessed its source. “Can we put that business behind us?”

“I’m trying to.”

“Some therapies work both ways.”

“I’m not sure I can take that medicine.”

“We could start with a small dose and work our way up.”

She shook her head. “There’s no small dose.”

He sobered. “I know that, Tess.” His fingers brushed her cheek, slid down, and raised her chin. “I’m willing to take it like a man, if you are.”

She drew a ragged breath. “I don’t have that capacity.”

“Then you should take it like a woman, because I can’t wait one minute more.”

She leaned in and touched his lips with hers. Then it was certain overdose, but she didn’t care because she was not willing to lose him to Danae or anyone else. She had to stand firm and fight, not run a—

She staggered back, gripping the rail.

“Tess?”

Panting and crying, she ran through the woods, no labyrinth path
to lead her, only moonlit pines and fear. She slipped and rolled into the
hollow of a large stone. Gasping, she pressed herself into the hole too
little to hold her. Hide me. Hide me.

“Tessa, what’s wrong?”

She blinked back her tears. “It keeps coming when I don’t expect it.”

He pulled her back. “Tell me.”

“I’m running away, trying to hide, but he finds me, Smith. I know it.”

Smith sat up in the bed and brought her head to his chest. “It’s in the past. You only need to acknowledge it.”

“I can’t.”

He threaded her fingers with his. “Do you find it odd that intimacy triggers it?”

She looked away. “It was thinking I would fight for you that triggered it.”

“It was?”

“I didn’t fight the other time. I ran away.”

“You were a tiny little girl.”

“I loved my dad.”

“But there was nothing you could do.”

“What if there was, Smith? What if that’s why I won’t remember?”

CHAPTER

33

With room to spare, Smith stretched out. The only seats available on a flight without multiple connections and significant hassle had been first class. Tessa had balked when he procured them, until Bair said, “It’s no hardship for him, Tessa. Let it go.” It wasn’t a hardship, and cramming his long legs into coach would have been. Nevertheless, he was glad when the flight ended.

Though a painful hitch still warned him when he’d moved too suddenly, he felt fairly strong as they deplaned in Colorado Springs. No convincing anyone else of that, however. Bair shouldered both carry-on bags, moving through the crowd like a lineman. Tessa had suggested he come along instead of waiting by himself, and Smith could think of no reason to say otherwise.

He hoped she didn’t still feel the need for a buffer, though she’d been distant and ragged since they’d kissed. She looked exhausted as well. He could only hope once everything came to light, she could let it go.
Please, God, let her find answers.

They stopped at the luggage carousel, where Bair moved forward to snag Tessa’s suitcases as they tumbled down and circled. Since she was going home, she had brought all the clothing she’d had with her from the previous project to replace it with more seasonally appropriate things. He hoped that was the only reason she’d brought everything back home.

While they waited, a woman came toward them with a loosehipped stride. Her multiple bracelets and India cotton pants matched her black mane of hair, olive-toned skin, and almond eyes. She and Tessa hugged briefly; then Tessa turned. “Genie, this is Smith Chandler, the architect on our project. And his intern, Bair.”

“I finally meet the infamous Bair?” Genie cocked a dark eyebrow.

Bair lost the capacity for speech and gave her a sheepish grin.

“Bair,” Tessa said with more affection than necessary, “this is my assistant, Genie.”

They piled into the aged but rugged Jeep Wagoneer that Genie had parked in the short-term lot and headed across the city to the mountain pass that would take them to Tessa’s home in Green Mountain Falls. The red granite slopes cloaked with dark pointed pines were splendid, but from his seat in the back, Smith watched Tessa stare silently out the windscreen while Genie drove.

As the Jeep climbed the mountain, ragged white clouds overtook the peaks and spit slivers of snow.

“It is October, isn’t it?” Bair mumbled.

“October in the mountains,” Genie said over her shoulder. “But it’s not supposed to do much until the weekend.”

They followed a dirt road to one of the higher properties tucked a quarter of the way up the mountainside. Genie parked and they all climbed out. Natural stone chimneys flanked the sizeable cabin with a broad front porch situated for gazing across the valley. The log walls blended with the pines surrounding it. The green shingled roof across the front rose to a second or loft level farther back. Neat, compact, with warmth and character in the hewn logs and shutters with pine-tree cutouts.

A small animal pen at one side stood empty, but a large orange cat waited on the porch to be let in out of the weather. “I see Roscoe’s returned.” Tessa scratched the cat’s outstretched neck.

Genie nodded. “The day you said he would.”

Smith joined Bair at the Jeep’s hatch, but Tessa turned. “Leave the bags, Smith. We’ll get them.”

Another cheery reminder of his less-than-fit condition. Admittedly the travel had taken more out of him than it should have. He joined Tessa on the porch as she unlocked and opened her front door. When she hesitated, he put a hand to the small of her back. “You all right?”

“Yes.” She straightened and led them into the cozy, colorful great room. It looked warmer than it felt, and Genie went directly to the woodstove on the left and started laying a fire.

“No furnace?” Smith searched for ductwork.

“Just the stoves.” Genie fed small hewn logs into the bright yellow blaze.

At the back, a rustic kitchen was surrounded by brick-red ceramic countertops. Plant-covered shelves flanked dun-colored couches and red-and-green overstuffed chairs. Several built-in bookshelves reached the ceiling around the outer walls.

Bair muscled the luggage inside as the gusty wind whirled white snow dust around his head. Genie pointed him toward the split-log staircase. “You guys are up there. I’ll show you.” With their two bags Bair followed her up.

Tessa rolled her bag to a room adjoining the great room on the main level. A scent of woodsmoke drew him to that doorway, and he hovered there while she lit another wood-burning stove. She looked up and saw him.

He smiled. “May I?”

“Come in. This was my parents’ room. Now it’s mine.”

Spacious, yet homey, with a slanting board roof and windows all across the wall opposite the bed. A conglomeration of glass and copper hummingbird feeders partially obstructed the view of a dense grove of white-trunked aspen. An alder-wood drafting table sat in front of the center window, and he pictured Tessa working there with jewel-toned hummingbirds hovering just outside the glass.

She closed the stove and straightened, absorbing the warmth with outstretched hands. “It shouldn’t take long.”