Commando (16 page)

She trusted Jake to keep his word, and she understood that he wouldn’t trap her. Reading between the lines of his offer, Shah realized that if she wanted him it was she who would have to take the initiative. For the first time in her life, she held power, her true power, in her own hands. It was a giddy, euphoric feeling to know that Jake wouldn’t stalk her, manipulate her with words or touches to get her to do what he wanted. No, he’d respect her, give her the time she needed to be sure, first about herself, then about him.

“You’ll be going from one extreme to another,” Jake said, humbled, as Shah slid her hand into his. There was such intimacy between them, strong and good, that it left him shaken in the wake of it. “From the tropics of Brazil to the snow and winter of the Cascades.”

With a little smile, Shah said, “My life’s always been one of extremes. I’ll adjust.”

Jake wondered if Shah realized that such flexibility wasn’t something a whole lot of people possessed. It was one of the reasons she’d survived thus far, and he applauded her ability to bend, not break, when new situations presented themselves to her. “I’m going to call the Butterfields, who take care of the house for me, and tell them we’re coming home.” He squeezed Shah’s slender hand, and an ache seized him. The need to love her, to introduce her to the realm of true love, was eating away at him. Jake knew he had to control his physical hunger for Shah, or he’d scare her away. “It’s December first. You realize we’re going to spend Christmas together?”

There was a wistful tone to his voice. Shah met his boyish smile. “Can we have a Christmas tree?”

“Just take a walk out into the front yard and take your pick,” he chuckled. “That cedar A-frame of mine is stuck deep in the heart of big-tree country. We’re surrounded by Douglas firs for as far as the eye can see.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Shah whispered, a little dazed by the sudden and unexpected turn of events. “Like a winter wonderland, a fairy tale…”

“You’re my dream come true,” Jake said, his throat tightening. “You’re coming home with me. I never thought, I never imagined, that any woman would ever share that house with me.”

Shah understood Jake’s emotionally charged statement. He’d lost his family, he’d lost everything he’d ever loved. How many times had he come off a mission to be alone in that cedar A-frame? How many? Her heart bled for Jake, for the terrible loneliness he’d endured. As she sat there, Shah began to realize that they were very much alike in some ways. That small revelation tore down another barrier of Shah’s fear, and she looked forward to going home with him with a new eagerness.

“If I have to spend one more day in this bed, I’m going to turn into a bear,” Jake grumbled unhappily.

Shah grinned as she brought Jake his breakfast tray. “You’ve been home exactly two weeks, and I think you’ve already turned into a grumpy old bear, Jake Randolph.” It was seven in the morning, sunlight barely showing on the horizon outside the window of the small first-floor bedroom where Jake stayed. He’d just awakened; his covers were in twisted heaps, and both his bandaged legs were exposed. Shah tried to keep from looking at his powerful, darkly haired chest. Jake had informed her once they got home that normally he didn’t wear anything to bed, but in deference to her he’d wear pajama bottoms only. Shah had tucked her smile away and tried to be serious about it.

Placing the tray on the bedstand, Shah patiently smoothed the covers across his legs and tucked them around his waist. Jake was already sitting up, several goose-down pillows providing backing for him against the cedar headboard. Some of the grumpiness had left Jake’s sleepy features when she’d entered his room.

“I’m going crazy,” he muttered, taking the pink linen napkin Shah offered and spreading it across his naked torso.

“The doctor said fourteen days in bed, Jake. You’ve only got one more to go.” She placed the tray on his lap. She found such joy in small things like making Jake’s breakfast. Actually, Shah thought, laughing to herself, it wasn’t that small: he ate enough for three people.

“This is a nice touch,” he murmured. In a little white vase, Shah had placed a sprig of holly with red berries. “What did you do? Get up early and tramp outside in the snow to find them?”

“Yes. I had a lovely walk in the snow this morning. It was beautiful, Jake. The stars are so close at this altitude, so shiny and bright.” She gazed out the window. The sky had been clear early this morning, but it had clouded over in the past hour, and now snowflakes twirled thickly through the gray morning sky.

“Wish I could’ve joined you,” Jake said.

Shah smiled understandingly and sat carefully on the edge of the bed, facing Jake. She usually took her breakfast with him in his room. It was something she looked forward to, because Jake had insisted she take the lovely master bedroom up on the second floor. Shah felt cut off, being a story away from Jake when she went to bed at night. It was lonely in that big queen-size bed, with its massive cedar posts. All the furniture in the place, Shah had discovered, had been made by Jake. After the death of his family, he’d used the building of his home as therapy.

“One more day,” she repeated patiently.

Jake dug hungrily into the stack of pancakes Shah had fixed for him. She’d put red raspberry syrup nearby, plus a small basket of well-fried bacon. “You’re one hell of a cook, you know that?” He glanced up at her as he began eating the light, fluffy pancakes. “You get all this talent from your mother?”

“I guess. Actually, it was my grandma. Because my mother is a medicine woman, she’s often traveling to people’s homes, so my grandmother taught me how to cook and keep house.”

“Your grandma still around?” Jake thought how beautiful Shah looked. She wore a bright red cable-knit sweater, and her long black hair was flowing around her. Her light tan slacks were loose, but still reminded him of her long thoroughbred’s legs. She also wore a pair of lightweight hiking boots, a necessity for winter in the Cascades.

“Yes, and I hope you get to meet my whole family someday soon. Gram is ninety-four, but you wouldn’t know it. She’s sharp and spry.” Shah surprised herself. Now, where had the invitation to meet her family come from? Glancing over at Jake, whose forkful of pancake had halted midway to his mouth, she realized her mouth was getting ahead of her brain—something that happened too frequently when she was around Jake.

“You mean that?” He saw a high flush come to her cheeks.

“Well…sure…”

With a smile, Jake popped the pancakes into his mouth, savoring them. Shah had put some piñon nuts in them; it was a trick that made even the most ordinary of pancakes taste great. “You’re hesitating,” he said with a grin, baiting her.

Clasping and unclasping her hands, Shah studied them intently. “Foot-and-mouth disease,” she muttered.

“Oh, then you didn’t mean the invitation?” Jake’s grin widened. He hadn’t teased Shah very often in the past two weeks, because coming here had been such an adjustment for her. Still, things were settling into a comfortable routine, and he saw her relaxing more and more every day. This morning he wanted to test Shah’s security about being here with him.

“Sure I did!” she protested. “It’s just that sometimes my heart gets ahead of my brain, and—”

“I thought you said Native Americans always speak from the heart, not the head.”

Befuddled, and aware that Jake was teasing her, Shah managed a short laugh. “They do. I mean, they should. I mean, they don’t always, but that’s what my mother taught me. We’re right-brained, and that side of the brain has no voice, like the left brain does. Did you know the left brain contains the nerves that lead to our voice? The right brain has no voice—at least not a loud one. Mother always said that our heart is this side of the brain’s voice.” Shah smiled fondly, recalling that particular conversation with her mother.

“No, I didn’t know that. Sounds interesting,” Jake murmured, impressed. He quickly finished off the pancakes and held out a strip of bacon to Shah. She took it and thanked him. The pleasure of sharing the morning meal with her was something Jake always looked forward to eagerly. But, then, he savored each and every moment with her. “So, if Native Americans are right-brained and heart-centered, what does that make white men?” he baited.

“Left-brained and vocal,” Shah said with a wry grin. After finishing off the strip of bacon, she wiped her fingers on the pink linen napkin draped across Jake’s torso. “Except for you.”

“What am I?”

“I feel like you’re a nice balance between the two,” she answered seriously. Shah saw the dancing light in Jake’s gray eyes. “Somewhere along the line, you disconnected from the general male stereotype and embraced your heart and feelings.”

Jake handed her the tray with his thanks and watched as Shah stood up. She had such gazellelike grace that he never tired of simply watching her move. “That happened when my family was killed,” he told her quietly. “Bess had been working on me for a long time, though, to get me unstuck from the male mode.”

Shah stood near the dresser where she’d placed the tray.

“I thought so,” she said softly, not wishing to open up that wound. Lately Jake had talked more often about his family, and she could see that those conversations, though painful, were healing him before her very eyes.

“Do me a favor?” Jake pointed toward the upper level of the house.

“Sure.” Shah saw his face grow pensive. What was he up to now?

“Go to the large cedar dresser opposite the bed. In the fourth drawer is a huge photo album. Bring it to me? There are some things I want to show you, share with you.”

Suddenly shaky, Shah nodded and left. As she climbed the stairs that led to the huge master bedroom up in the loft, her heart started a slow pounding. As she gently opened the drawer and took out the leather photo album, she realized that this was about Jake’s family. Her mouth dry, she descended the stairs, the album pressed protectively to her chest.

Jake’s face mirrored vulnerability as she handed him the album. Her heart wouldn’t stop its rapid beating as she sat on the edge of the bed next to him. He hesitantly touched the album, which was now resting in his lap.

“I’ve been wanting to share this with you for a long time,” he rasped. “It’s the family photo album.” Running his fingers along the well-worn leather cover, Jake managed a sad smile. “It was Bess’s idea—our beginning, middle and ending, she said.”

Gently Shah reached over and placed her hand on top of his. Jake’s voice trembled with emotion. She understood, and she hoped her look conveyed that as he risked a glance up at her before he opened the album.

Clearing his throat, Jake managed a weak smile. “I just never thought there would be an end,” he said as he opened the album. “Bess was a lot more realistic about life than I was. Or maybe I ought to say that I was so in love with her that life’s realities never really hit me until she was gone.”

Words were impossible for Shah. All she could do was wrap her arm around Jake as he sat there with the album in his lap. Feelings were vibrating around them, and she understood as never before the depth of the love Jake had had for his family, for his wife. As he gestured to the first page of the album, Shah devoted her full attention, her heart, to what Jake was sharing with her.

“I never showed this album to anyone after they died. I couldn’t look at these photos, our marriage, or the baby pictures of our kids.” Tears blurred Jake’s eyes, but he went on. It was so important that Shah understand his past. “Here’s Bess and me on our wedding day.”

“She was very beautiful,” Shah said. The woman was petite, with light brown hair. Her white wedding dress emphasized the joy radiating from her oval face. Jake looked so very young, proud and tall in his dark blue Marine Corps dress uniform. “You both look so happy.”

Jake smiled fondly. “We were. Young, idealistic, and carrying the hope of a happy future.” Oddly, the tears left his eyes and a new kind of calm filled him as he went on to the next page of the album. “Katie was our firstborn. She weighed ten pounds at birth. Look at the head of hair on that kid.”

The baby in the picture had dark hair, just like Jake. Shah smiled gently, because the photo had been taken with Jake at Bess’s bedside, the baby cradled lovingly between them. “The three of you look very happy.”

“Bess probably looks more relieved than anything,” Jake commented dryly, meeting and holding Shah’s warmth-filled gaze. “She swore up and down she’d never have another baby because the labor had been so long with Katie.” He laughed appreciatively, feeling another weighted cloak dissolve from around his shoulders. “Of course, then Mandy came along, two years later.”

“And did she weigh in like a ten-pound sack of potatoes?” Shah asked, smiling and feeling Jake’s joy. It was as if showing her the album and talking about his family were healing him before her eyes. Grateful for whatever was happening, Shah felt the tension in the room dissolving. In its place came an incredible sense of subdued joy that they could share this album filled with happiness.

With a chuckle, Jake nodded and turned another page. “Mandy weighed in at exactly ten pounds. Bess blamed me for that, and I gladly took the blame. Look at her. Katie had my dark hair, and Mandy had Bess’s lighter hair. The kid was a beauty.”

And she was, Shah thought. Mandy had her mother’s delicate features, but her eyes were Jake’s in shape and color. Relaxing, her hand unconsciously moving up and down Jake’s back, she listened as he shared his family years with her. On the last page, he became choked up.

“There’s Katie in her pink tutu. She was crazy about becoming a ballerina. At ten years old, she was the star of her class.” Gently he touched the picture of his smiling daughter. “This was taken by Bess just before the recital that Katie starred in.”

“Were you able to see her recital?” Shah asked. She saw Jake’s mouth compress into a thin line and knew the answer. Sliding her hand across his shoulder, she allowed him to lean upon her.

Jake felt Shah’s hand move on his shoulder. He reached over and embraced her, the tears in his eyes going away as he held her, the pain from the past seeming to disappear beneath her healing touch and the love she held for him. In the moments that followed, poignant and bittersweet, Jake realized that sharing the album, his life and his family with Shah was a catharsis for him. It was as if he had finally been able to place the wonderful memories and feelings into a chamber of his heart to be held there forever. That was the past.