The Amber Stone (16 page)

Teresa was crushed against the wall, holding her beer like a can of mace, when a man swaying on his feet came up to her.

“Would ya like to dance?” he asked. The last word came out in a drunken hiss as ‘danshhh.’

She offered him a polite smile and tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of beer and sweat clinging to his Hawaiian shirt. “No, thank you.”

He grabbed her arms, roughly pulling her away from the wall. “That’s not the kind of answer I’m looking for right now. We’ve seen you turn down our best men. You’re not even that pretty, think you’re too good for us?”

“No, I just don’t feel like dancing,” she said, trying to free herself from his grasp, but his hands were clammy, sticking to her skin like masking tape.

“Fine, then we can do something else.” He brought her close and opened his mouth to kiss her. She saw his tongue come towards her like a pink snake and knew she had to do something. She bit down on his bottom lip so hard his entire body shook in pain. He let out a loud curse as she pushed him away and wiped her mouth of the taste of his lips. He cursed, covering his bleeding lip. He grabbed the back of her hair, bending her head back until she thought her neck would crack. His dark grey eyes were mirrors of hate.

“Somebody needs to teach you some manners.” He was now completely sober and his tone held a promise of revenge.

She refused to be afraid. “How can you when you don’t have any?”

“That’s just fine, ‘cause I’ll leave it up to them.” He gestured to two men who stood up behind him. A shiver of panic shot up her back. She grabbed a fork off a nearby table and stabbed him in the side. The man screamed and released her. Teresa ducked into the crowd and disappeared before the other men could get her. The harmless crowd of shadows now felt like a maze of seaweed. She couldn’t find the exit and people were unwilling to let her pass. She could feel the two goons fast approaching like bloodhounds on a scent.

A man pulled her into a dance pose. “Don’t look up, just bury your head in my chest and move with me,” he ordered.

She did exactly as instructed, pressing her head against him. She held onto him as if she could melt into his body and completely disappear.

“Not so tight, Sweets.”

“Oh sorry.” She loosened her grip, but something made her pause. It could have been the smell of wood that clung to his shirt or the way he said ‘sweets’, but in a moment she knew whose arms she was in. She looked up at him. “What are you—”

Sean pushed her head back down. “Keep your head down.” He spun her around just as the two men pushed past. She could hear Sean’s heart beat beneath her; it beat as fast as her own.

He slid his keys into her pocket and began to speak rapidly. “On the count of three. I want you to be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“One..two..three..” He picked her up and tossed her out the window. She landed on a bush. “Drive Priscilla around the back,” he ordered, then ducked his head back inside.

Teresa stood up and went to the parking lot. Her heart stopped when she stared at over twenty similar trucks.

It was only a flash of luck or a kind ghost that positioned the moonlight to shine on Sean’s rusty truck. She opened it, jumped inside and had to stand on her toes so that she could reach the pedals and sped it around the back. She arrived just as Sean exited the bar. She slid to the passenger’s seat as he leaped in. He slammed the door shut just as one of the men lunged for him. He shifted into gear and sped off.

They didn’t speak until the lights of the bar were a distant memory.

“Louisa’s still back there.”

“Louisa can take care of herself,” he said in a grim tone. “She shouldn’t have taken you there in the first place.”

“She was trying to help me.”

“Help you?”

Teresa shook her head. “Never mind.”

“What did you do to that guy’s mouth?”

“I bit him.”

He gave a low whistle. “Glad you never minded me kissing you.”

She fell silent.

“If you’re mad at me just say so, but don’t pull another stunt like this.”

“I’m not mad at you and it wasn’t a stunt. Louisa—”

“If I hadn’t come along do you know what those men would have done to you?”

Heat warmed her cheeks. “And you’d feel responsible?”

“Yes,” he said in a quiet tone. “Because then I’d have to kill them.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

“You really don’t know me well, do you?”

“You’re a doctor. You’re meant to heal.”

“I used to believe that too once.”

“Why did you stop?”

He pulled on his beard and swore. “I never thought Louisa would stoop so low. She should know better.”

“Louisa didn’t do anything, she just—”

“She should have stayed with you.”

“I can take care—”

“You’re as naïve as a two year old and you don’t read people well.”

“I…wait. Why are you stopping?”

Sean turned the car off and opened the door. “Because we’re going to eat.”

“Okay,” Teresa said, then tried to unlatch her seat belt.

“Sometimes it sticks,” Sean said, unlatching it for her then unlatching his.

They both got out of the truck and Teresa looked up at the friendly little restaurant where he’d parked. She wondered how she had ended up here when her evening had taken such a dangerous turn. She shivered at the thought of the man’s mouth coming close to hers.

Sean looked at her. “Cold?”

“No.” She shivered again.

He reached in his truck and grabbed a jacket from under the seat. “Stubborn witch,” he muttered, putting her arms in the jacket as if he were dressing a doll.

She tried to fix his torn sleeve. “Arrogant wizard.”

He put a hand under her arm and laughed. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The place was a squat, rundown building with a crooked sign and wobbly front steps. When they entered, a jukebox played and people chatted amongst themselves while sitting on wooden benches, and in the far corner was an upright piano with a picture of ships overhead. There were round wooden tables with glowing red candles. Sean grabbed a menu from near the door, then they seated themselves.

He handed her one. “This place doesn’t look like much, but the food is terrific. The soups are the best.”

The tables were so small that their knees touched. Sean didn’t seem to notice.

Teresa glanced at the menu, surprised. She had expected to see hamburgers and hot dogs, but instead she saw a list of exotic appetizers. “These are real meals. What would a chef of this caliber be doing here?”

“She likes it,” the waitress said overhearing the conversation. “Said that people here really appreciate her food.”

Teresa looked around the sparse crowd. “But she doesn’t appear to be getting many customers.”

“She gets enough,” the waitress replied. “Have you two decided what to order?”

“I’ll have the crab soup,” Sean said.

Teresa handed her the menu. “And I’ll have the vegetable soup with pesto.”

“Good choice,” she said and walked away.

Teresa looked around the room, thinking of changes. Perhaps if more people in the neighboring county knew about the restaurant, it would get more business.

Sean watched her under half closed lids. “Whatever you’re thinking, cut it out.”

“Why?”

“Because the place is fine the way it is.”

“I know it’s fine, but don’t you ever look at a place and think how it could be better?”

He shook his head. “Never.”

“You’re lying.”

He grinned. “I know.” He stretched out his legs, letting one rest between hers.

“Cut it out,” Teresa warned, feeling warm.

“What?”

“Stop acting innocent.”

“Sweets, I’ve got long legs.”

“Do they make up for a short—”

He narrowed his eyes. “Watch yourself.”

“See?” she said with a smug grin. “I’m not as naïve as you think.”

“You think it’s wise to tease a man like that?”

“No, not any man, just you.”

“Why me?”

“Now who’s being naïve?”

A basket of warm rolls arrived. Sean broke one in half, buttered both sides and handed one to her; the simple gesture had an intimate feel to it. It felt right that they were breaking bread. A companionable silence descended. Sean seemed lost in thought and Teresa didn’t want to tread on them.

The waitress came back with their food.

“You know, I couldn’t help noticing how beautiful your hair is,” she said, staring at Sean’s curls.

He slanted her a cold stare. “Try.”

She looked blank.

Teresa smiled. “Ever since he witnessed the murder of Jingo Biggs, the smuggler from Texas, he’s been in hiding. The wig is part of his disguise,” she said.

“Wig? But it looks so real,” the waitress said, cautiously reaching to touch a silky black curl.

“Don’t touch my hair,” he warned. She snatched her hand back and scurried away.

Teresa shook her head. “Stop scowling, she’s gone.”

“It’s ridiculous, women’s attraction to my hair.”

“It’s not just the hair of course. It’s those piercing hazel eyes which you hide pretty well.”

His scowl increased.

“Just be happy you’re not an animal. You’d probably end up being someone’s coat.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “They wouldn’t be able to catch me.”

They were quiet as they ate. On the jukebox, Patsy Cline’s lyrical whine came on singing ‘Crazy’. Perhaps it was the song and the mood, but something made her want to be honest with him. “I really appreciate you helping me tonight.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And I know how hard it is to be with someone since your wife...”

He sent her a sharp look. “Mother promised—”

“Bertha didn’t tell me anything. I just…sensed you suffered a heartbreak,” she finished, not wanting to tell him about Pernelle. Perhaps that would make him shut down even more and Pernelle didn’t seem eager to have him know about her. “Did she leave you?”

He sniffed. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

“And you can’t get over her.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I ever will. Sometimes I even think I still see her.”

Teresa’s heart constricted, feeling the pain and loss that echoed in his voice. She envied his love for his wife. “And I know she was beautiful.”

“Exquisite.” His intelligent eyes studied her face, then he lowered his gaze and mumbled. “Seems to be a damn weakness of mine.”

“Loving someone isn’t a weakness.”

He lifted his gaze. “That’s not what I mean and…you don’t need to hear about that.”

“Yes, I do. As your friend—”

“Teresa, haven’t you figured out by now that I don’t want to be your friend?”

Teresa reached across the table and held his hand. It was a brazen move for her but she couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t want him to push her away, she didn’t want to lose the fragile bond they’d created. She couldn’t imagine him not being in her life even though it hurt that he didn’t feel for her the same way she felt for him. His pain was all that mattered. “I know,” she said gently. “I know you miss her and that you loved her so much that you’ve buried your heart. No, please don’t look at me like that,” she said when a look of surprise and anguish crossed his face. “You can trust me.” She looked at their interlocked hands. “I can truly feel your pain. Just like I know why you don’t like to shake hands, because you calm people and then people are drawn to you. Usually you’re okay, but lately your defenses have been down and you’re not sure you can absorb anyone else’s hurt.” She felt his hand tremble, but she didn’t release her hold. “I know your love for her frightened you and the loss sometimes hurts so much that you feel as if you can’t breathe. That your arms ache from her absence.”

“Yes,” Sean said, knowing how much that admission cost him. He took a deep shuddering breath, feeling as if a mist had been swept from his mind. And although the dark shadows that loomed around him didn’t lighten, their pull did not feel as strong. He held her grasp as though she were a lifeboat that could save him from a raging sea. He’d never wanted to be saved before, he didn’t want to live before and now he saw her true danger. He hadn’t only been afraid of loving her, but that she’d make him want to live again. To be truly alive and not just a shadow of himself.

He’d grown used to his misery and reveled in his isolation. But she’d shone her light of truth on his solitude and saw the loneliness there and he didn’t have his anger to keep him safe. He couldn’t block her out and realized that he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He’d never felt at one with anyone else and for the first time he’d met someone who could clearly say all that he felt, without judgment.

“Yes,” he said, again feeling strong enough to admit the truth. “I buried my heart the moment I buried my daughter.”