Silk and Stone (38 page)

They sat there, shivering. Sam studied her wet feet, the snow melting on her long wool skirt and white socks, little rivulets of icy water sliding down her dirty jogging shoes. Her feet were so numb she couldn’t move her toes, and muscles spasmed in her stomach from the chills.

Charlotte, wearing a quilted jacket, army fatigues, and snub-toed leather boots, was better dressed for this blizzard. When they’d decided to run, they hadn’t had much time to make plans. Pandora was too small a town for them to just hitch a ride with a stranger. People knew one another there; people talked. And there were only three roads out of the place, all patrolled by the
well-fed, overeager deputies of the Sheriff’s Department of a ritzy resort town isolated by miles of high mountains. Mayberry on designer steroids.

“I wonder what Mom would do,” Charlotte said, rubbing her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

Sam said wearily, “She’d go back to town and consult an astology chart. Wait for Jupiter to jump Venus, or something. Waste time.”

Charlotte looked wounded. Sam patted her head in apology.

“They must be looking for us bigtime by now,” Charlotte said, her voice high and thready. “God, if we get caught, what’ll they do?” Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath. “They can’t hold on to you, but I’m only fifteen. They might stick me in one of those
homes
that are really just lock-’em-ups for junior criminals. They might—”

“Nobody’s going to find us. Nobody’s going to separate us. And besides, you’re not the criminal. I am. I made you leave with me.”

Sam thought of Aunt Alex’s necklace, which she’d tucked in a deep pocket of her skirt. She had always considered herself too good to sink to anyone’s level, regardless of what they did to her, but now she was a thief.

A remorseless thief, too.

There was a fine line between being gifted and being cursed, and Jake spent every day of his life walking it like a tightrope. No room for a wrong step, no safety net, no place to rest. He could move only straight ahead, alone, toward a destination he might never reach, fighting a weight that could drag him either way if he held out a hand to anyone else. Alone, he kept his balance.

Samantha didn’t know it, but she was pulling him both ways at once. He halted atop an open precipice of granite covered in ankle-deep snow to get his bearings—or, rather,
her
bearings, since he knew the ancient, forested ridges, the hidden hollows, the soaring overlooks and narrow, dark glens of the Cove as well as the backs of his own large, callused hands.

So many generations of his family—both Cherokee and white—had roamed these wild places. The Cove was the only sanctuary he had. And he sensed that Samantha had come into it.

Where? Where was she? And why hadn’t she come to his house? She could have found it easily. She should have known he’d do anything, whatever it took, to help her.

She knew. But she didn’t want me caught in the middle. She’s trying to get her sister away from Alexandra
.

He took the old stone from his pocket and rubbed it between his bare, numb hands.
Please, please tell me what I need to know to find her
.

She was nearby. That shook him. He closed his eyes briefly. The caves. That image was strong, certain. His lonely talent would not let him down.

His prayer had been answered.

Charlotte gasped. “I hear footsteps!”

Sam, who had fallen into a lethargic doze, jerked her head up. “Quiet,” she whispered. “It might be an animal. A bear.” She slid her hand into her coat pocket and made her stiff fingers close around the only weapon she had. A metal nailfile.

She brought it out, then got on her knees with her back to Charlotte, holding the file like a knife. She didn’t know what good it would do them, but she wasn’t leaving this cave without a fight.

Sam stared out into the curtain of snow. Now she heard the footsteps too—muffled crunches of sound, slow and measured. A pair of long, sturdy legs in faded jeans moved in front of the cave’s small opening. They disappeared into heavy hiking boots sunk into the snow. She saw the bottom of a bulky khaki coat. Bo’s large wet face pushed inside the opening at a level with her eyes.

Sam sank back on her heels, and her shoulders slumped.

Jake dropped to his haunches, inches from her
outthrust hand, filling the mouth of the tiny cave, trapping them inside, brawny hands draped lightly on his angular knees. The harsh beam of his flashlight glittered on the cave’s wet walls.

Her teeth chattered. Sam stared at him grimly. He looked back at her from under the soggy brim of a delapidated fedora, which gave him a jaunty, old-fashioned look in contrast to the rugged coat and jeans. There might not have been a flicker of movement inside him, not even a heartbeat.

Jake gazed back at her with hidden wonder. She was swamped with acres of coat cloth and a sagging brown skirt that puddled around her kneeling body like a tent. A tight knit cap made her face stand out in soft contrast, with wisps of honey-blond hair slicked to her cheeks and forehead.

She looked righteous and fierce, bone-tired and shaky. She looked glorious. “You know I can always find you,” he said. He sounded furious, but there was a raw tremor in his voice. “For God’s sake, is this better than coming to me for help?”

“
Yes.
” Her hands wavered and dropped into her lap. He reached toward her, but she pulled back. He looked wounded. His hand clenched, and he brought it back to his knee. “Don’t ask any questions,” Sam begged. Charlotte, ashamed and afraid, had sworn her to secrecy about the reason for their escape. That small dignity was all Sam could give her.

And Sam knew, with tormented certainty, that their only hope was to get as far away as possible. She couldn’t let Jake go with them. If they were caught …

“We’re leaving town,” she said with absurd composure, as if announcing a party. “If you could just point us in the direction of the Stecoe road, in the morning we’ll move on.”

His mouth dropped open. He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “By morning you’ll be two blond-haired chunks of ice. And if you think I’m going to let you stay here—or let you go on your merry way—your brain must already be full of icicles.”

She hadn’t expected him to agree. She wanted so badly to take his face between her hands and kiss him for risking his own hide to find them, and for caring. But that selfishness would have sealed his intentions. “We’re not going back with you, and you can’t come with us,” she said.

He looked at her as if he could eat them both alive and spit them out without blinking. “You’ve got your aunt’s nerves.”

Sam felt a dreary sense of impending doom. “All I ask,” she said slowly, her voice steadier than her sinking hopes, “is that you forget you found us.”

He flicked his hand out again. Suddenly one of hers was captured in his big, warm grip. Her stiff fingers convulsed helplessly, and the stupid nailfile dropped to the snowy floor of the cave without a sound. The sound of defeat—silence.

Jake didn’t know what to say. He was flooded with too many emotions—her emotions. Anger, fear,
love
. She was determined not to show any of it. Her feelings welled up inside him like a hot tide, until he didn’t know whether they were her feelings or his own. “You’re doing this for Charlotte,” he said. “Somebody hurt her. Alexandra is part of it. But you and me—we can fight back. Don’t give up on us. Crawl out of this hole and come with me.”

Sam gazed at him, gritting her teeth to keep them from clicking like castanets. “We can’t go back. We can’t stay anywhere near here. She’d only find us if we did. Charlotte would get hauled back to Highview, and I … well, I’m a fugitive now. You can’t change that fact.”

His grip on her hand was firm but painless; his fingers pressed into her palm without moving. There was a look in his eyes she couldn’t quite decipher. Maybe some apology in that hypnotizing intensity. “You’re not even a little guilty about it either. She owed you and Charlotte plenty, and you know it. What? What did she do to Charlotte?”

“Don’t try to guess how I feel. You always do that, but not this time.” She tugged her arm back. To her immense relief, he released her hand. The urge to touch
her again was like a fire inside him. One more second and he’d have glimpsed a clue to her thoughts.

But he would never tell her he was a freak of nature, right up there with two-headed snakes and the Elephant Man. The only secret he would ever keep from her, because the fear that she wouldn’t believe, that she would be repulsed, was more than he could bear to test.

“Get out of the cave,” he ordered. “You’ve got no choice. I’m taking you to the Cove. It’s not very far. Maybe you wanted me to find you. Well, I did, and we’ll deal with this problem together. Whether you think that’s the best thing or not.”

He saw that fact sink into her, weighing her down, as if the mountain had begun squeezing on her shoulders. Tears glittered in her eyes, and she looked away quickly, squinting. She swallowed hard. “If you make us go back, there’s no hope at all.”

“I won’t let her hurt you or Charlotte.” His voice was suddenly soft and hoarse. “Trust me. We’ll think of something. But I’m not letting you go. Not this time. Not ever again.”

Tears slid down her cheeks, and when she looked at him finally, her eyes were dull and grieving. “She’ll hurt you too.”

He inhaled sharply. “No, she won’t.” The only tactic that made sense, at the moment, was stubborn command. “Come out of there.” He made it sound like a heartless order. “Or I’ll drag you both out.”

Over her shoulder she said to her sister in a voice that was low and raw, “I’m sorry. He’s like the mountains—I can’t move him. I let you down.”

Charlotte bowed her head. “No, you didn’t. You’re the only one who’s never done that.”

Jake watched with silent turmoil as they crawled out stiffly and staggered to their feet. He reached out to help, but both of them pulled back, staring at him angrily. Samantha tilted her head back and looked at him with tired fury. His flashlight illuminated the snow settling on her upturned face, little delicate flakes clinging to her lashes and cheeks, that resolute mouth clamped tight as
a vise. She was swamped with clothes—the floppy coat, a long, full skirt, the collars of three different-colored sweaters bulging out between the coat’s labels. Charlotte was shorter, flashier, dressed like a cut-rate stormtrooper.

Annie Hall and a stormtrooper. It made him feel worse that they had been hiding in one of the caves where ancestors of his had starved and frozen when the army was rounding up Cherokees. He felt those ghosts. But he reminded himself that some of the people had survived, held on, prospered finally. With the help of the pioneer Vanderveers, they had managed to keep the Cove. It had come down to him through them. Raincrows and Vanderveers. Now Samantha—a Vanderveer by distant association, if nothing else—had tried to find safety here.

“Sammie, we can’t go back,” Charlotte cried suddenly, losing control. She backed away, sweeping an arm toward the looming forest spreading out around them. “
Run. Let’s run.
”

“Don’t even think about it,” Jake said. “I’ll track you down like rabbits.”

Samantha snagged her by one arm, then hugged her. “He’d probably skin us too.” Charlotte cried silently, head bent to her sister’s. Samantha stared at him bitterly over her sister’s head. “We’ll think of something,” she said firmly. “I’m not giving up.” Samantha held his gaze, the expression in her eyes like blue ice. “I’m not giving up,” she repeated. “I’m the only one around here with a clear head. The only one who doesn’t depend on miracles.”

Her pain was twisted together with his, and with a terrible understanding that finding Samantha was a sign of some kind, that he needed her in some way that was as selfish as wanting to breathe. For now he knew only that he had to hold on to her.

“Why won’t you listen to me?” she asked, her voice a groan. “Why do you believe in miracles?”

He turned away from her. “Can’t help myself.” That was true, but there was more, that childhood superstition
that Granny Raincrow had engrained in him. It came back with a potent force. Nothing else mattered. Jake clenched his fists.