The Edge of Recall (43 page)

Bair nodded. “Poor bloke.”

“He’s smitten with Tess.”

Bair repeated with irony, “Poor bloke.”

“You’ve recovered, from what I’ve seen around here.” Smith cast him a knowing stare.

“Can’t blame me for looking.”

“Not just looking. I’ve actually heard dialogue.”

“There’ve been serious matters to discuss. Tessa’s, of course, but that’s triggered some revelations from Genie, and …” He shrugged.

“What sort of revelations?”

“Things that one wouldn’t learn on a first date, typically. We’ve shown our scars, and she’s quite wonderful, actually.”

“Well, good. Did you find anything more in the boxes?”

“Nothing blatant, but you know we wouldn’t have known the photos mattered. Tessa’s going to have to look for herself. We’ve made sure there are no more gruesome surprises, though.”

“Thanks, Bair.”

“Thank Genie. That threat infuriated her. She has no tolerance for cruelty and a rather creative penchant for retaliation.” Bair beamed.

It obviously stoked Bair’s natural attraction to rough sports and fiery women, though he sobered when Genie came down the stairs and walked past them to the pot heating on the great-room stove. With a raise of his brows, Bair went to join her.

Genie grabbed the spoon and potholder. “I thought for a while Tessa’s little friend would start grazing on the plants. But I guess he’s waiting for dinner after all.”

Bair leaned in to sniff when she lifted the pot lid. “Smells good. What is it?”

“Eugenia’s gypsy stew.”

“Eugenia?”

“I was named for my grandmother.” She turned her dusky eyes on him. “When she died I had it legally changed to Genie.”

“Well.” He flushed. “I’m honored to be in the know.”

With the temperature rising on that side of the room, Smith went to sit with Tessa.

Surrounded by the boxes, Tessa went through her dad’s things. Not constant, the grief rose and subsided as pictures or other items brought silent tears streaming, or a pang of loss, or a moment of keen remembrance. Emotions and memories held back by her silence found voice as she described them to Smith.

Last night, the pain of recall had driven her deeper into herself than any prayer walk, so deep she’d almost been lost. In that vacuum, she’d been found. Recognized. Cherished. It didn’t matter who she was; it mattered who God was.

“Tessa.”

She looked up.

Smith tucked a finger under her chin. “Acorn squash baked with butter and caramelized brown sugar.”

Her breath got ragged. How could he make vegetables so sensuous? She brought her fingers to his beard-roughened cheek, keenly conscious of his manliness. “I’ve never seen you with whiskers.”

“I was a bit hurried this morning.”

“That can’t have been this morning.”

“Mind-boggling, isn’t it. Come here.”

Her drew her up onto the couch, caught her face between his hands and kissed her softly, deeply, drawing a response she’d never experienced. Had more than her memory been released? What she’d felt before had been a fledgling, idolizing love compared to this potent, mature exchange. She had been relationally stunted, but now …

She rested her forehead against his. “Was it last century Rumer Gaston had me so annoyed?”

“At least. The dark ages when I thought nothing mattered more than impressing him.”

“It feels like time bent when I couldn’t move forward anymore, bringing me back to the place I had to start over.”

Smith nodded. “Time is a human construct. God works outside of it.”

“Smith, I don’t remember how I got down the mountain.”

“Last night? I carried you.”

“Against doctor’s orders?”

“Quite against.”

She put her hand to his chest. “Are you hurting?”

“Not from that. Just everything you’ve gone through.”

“I’ll be all right.” She looked into his face. “I got to the center and found the Father, like you said.”

His eyes lit. “That’s brilliant.”

“Now my spirit feels strong, though the rest is still shaky.”

“Your spirit is God’s province. I’ll work on the rest.”

“You already have. More than you know.” She nestled close and sighed. “Do you really think Dr. Brenner is involved?”

Donny turned from the window where he’d been watching the storm. “Dr. Brenner talked about you.”

She looked up. “What?”

“On his phone. He said you remembered, and he wants two million dollars to make it go away.”

CHAPTER

39

Smith stared at Donny. “Are you sure?”

“I was at the vent. I heard him, but he didn’t know it. He didn’t know I was there.”

“Donny.” Smith got to his feet. “Could you tell who he was talking to? Did you hear a name?”

“He said, ‘I know your name.’ But he didn’t say the name. I’m hungry.” Donny walked over to the table. “It smells better here than there. I’ll eat now.”

Smith pulled Tessa up. “We need to get out of here.”

“Look outside.” She pointed to the blizzard-whitened window. They’d been shaken up like a snow globe, and the flakes flew wildly past. “It’s almost dark. The wind is drifting the snow, and we won’t get the car out.”

“We can’t stay here.”

“If we can’t get out, he can’t get in.”

Maybe. Probably. As the wind howled around the cabin, he nodded reluctantly. “As soon as it’s clear, we’ll go.”

“What difference does it make? He’ll find me. Wherever I go, he’ll—”

“Don’t. Fear is not productive.”

“You sound like Dr.—” Her voice broke. “I can’t believe he—” Tears sprang to her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to be wrong.” Anger burned inside with a cold, steady flame. He felt equal parts avenger and protector, but was he truly either? “We’ll stop them.” Somehow, God willing, they would end this.

While Tessa helped Genie serve the meal, Smith took Bair aside and told him what Donny had heard.

“Sure he’s not making it up?”

“How would he know about blackmail?”

“Depends what books he’s read.”

“I don’t think so.”

Bair frowned. “We can keep watch in shifts.”

Smith nodded. “Tessa doesn’t think anyone can get through until the storm stops, but I’ll bunk Donny on the couch. He’s pretty aware, I’d guess. I’m staying in Tessa’s room, and I need you and Genie to know—”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“Thanks, Bair. I’m glad you’re here.”

Bair fitted his shoulder with a hammy grip. “I’ve got you covered, mate.”

Tessa turned at her bedroom door, expecting to say good night, but Smith pressed in. “I’m staying with you.”

“No, Smith.”

“I’m not suggesting anything untoward.” He arched his brows. “I’d like to, but what I want right now is to keep you safe.”

“Then
you
won’t be.” She drew herself up. “You’re an architect, not a bodyguard.”

“I’d like to think I’m not wholly ineffective.”

“You’re already injured.”

“Donny caught me by surprise. This time I’ll be watching.”

She shook her head. “I saw you die once.”

“As you see, I didn’t quite.”

A flicker of desperation caught her. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“We’ll be ready just in case.” He went over and drew the wooden blinds, tipping the slats so he could see out, but all except the glow of the stove and two candles was blocked from outside. He went into the bathroom, checked the window lock, and closed those blinds completely.

Tessa leaned in the doorway. “No one could fit through that.”

“Donny could.”

“Well, he’s already inside.”

“Another reason I’m staying in here.”

She didn’t need reminding of Donny’s frightening penchant for invading her room, but she doubted she’d close her eyes for one moment with Smith beside her. “The thing is, I’m—”

“Attracted?” The corner of his mouth pulled.

She paced. “Suddenly you’re … all … manly and irresistible.”

“Irresistible, hmm?” He snagged her, pulled her up by the elbows and kissed her.

“That’s not helping.”

“Believe me, it is.” He brought a hunger to the next kiss that all but left her gasping.

“Smith.” She pressed her palm to his sternum. “I’m telling you my arrested development is accelerating like Bair on a straight road.”

“And I’m telling you, it’s all right.” He was laughing. “I promise.” He grabbed her up again. “More than all right. I’m ecstatic.”

“Ecstatic? This is a terrible time. I should be thinking of—”

“What, Tess? The fact that you feel this is fantastic. After years overshadowed by fear and guilt, don’t you think it’s time to live and love as the woman you are?”

She hadn’t thought of it that way. She didn’t want that monster to have one more day of her life, but as long as he was out there … “I have to finish this.”

“I know.” He sobered. “Which is why I’m in here. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

She released a slow breath. “You can’t. It gets frigid and you’re barely over pneumonia.” Now that her mind had cleared, she wanted him close. Dr. Brenner had betrayed her to the very real flesh-and-blood man who had murdered her dad and now knew that she’d spoken.

Smith pulled her close. Still sentiently aware of his masculinity, she felt like Eve with her eyes suddenly opened. Exactly how had Eve offered that fruit?

“I’ll wash up upstairs.” His gaze sharpened. “Let me back in when I knock.”

She changed into her mother’s flannel pajamas, brushed her hair, her teeth, washed her face, and stared into the mirror. Why had this happened? What had her daddy done?

Smith came back dressed in navy lounge pants and a white T-shirt. Even in college she’d never seen him so informal. He smelled of shaving cream and toothpaste, his hair stood up around his cowlick, and he slow-blinked at her through his glasses. She wanted to slip them off and feel his freshly shaved skin. His mouth had never looked so expressive, so sensual. Her heart thumped.

“Come here.”

She went to him.

“I will guard your body with my own. You’re safe with me.”

“I can’t really say the same.”

He lowered his mouth and kissed her, burying his hands in her hair. She felt the rush and pull of his heart beneath her palm and yearned for him with an aching intensity.

“Get into bed.”

She pulled aside the covers and got in. He tucked them around her, then went to the closet and pulled out a spare blanket that he wrapped around himself like a cape, blew out one candle, then the next. Her eyes were riveted as he pulled out the drafting table chair and sat down.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry. I mastered desk sleeping at Cornell.”

“You’ll be miserable. There’s room here.”

“I’d intended that, but it’s … better this way.”

“Smith.”

“Go to sleep. Believe me, I will. I’m bushed.”

She stared at him in the glow from the stove that glinted off his teeth and the glasses he laid on the table. Then he turned the chair around, folded his arms, and rested his head. He was right. The only way she’d sleep was if he stayed there. She rolled to her side and murmured, “Good night.”

“Night, Tess.”

She said “I love you” into her pillow and closed her eyes. Physical and emotional fatigue slipped in like goblins and dragged her down. Tomorrow they’d have to dig out, decide what to do about Donny and go to the marshal, then find someplace to hide until this was over. She couldn’t think of that now. The breath seeped through her lips. Tomorrow.