“Even when it came to your wonderful Trevor, who should have been very high on my list. I actually tried to save him after he was shot.”
“I know you did,” she said wearily. “None of that changes the fact that you’re not what I want in my life. You’d turn it upside down.”
“Probably. But you’ll never know until you let me in.” He added recklessly, “Or I break down the doors, which is what you expect.”
“I never know what to expect from you. That’s why I made that mistake. I’m going to say good-bye now and go back to camp. This conversation isn’t going to make me sleep any better, if that was really your intention.”
“It wasn’t. I like the idea of your lying there thinking about me. I just wanted you to know that I’m not going to ask you to meet your obligations while I’m at Loch Gaelkar this time. I intend to take my time with you, and I may have to leave right after we finish setting up those lights. I have a commitment I can’t put off. Relieved?” He paused. “Or disappointed?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Never mind. I can’t expect an honest answer in your present mood. Where are you? You said ‘back to camp.’”
“I’m on the north bank. I needed a walk after supper.”
“And you needed to go into the mist and touch base with Cira again.”
“Perhaps.”
He was silent. “But it made you sad.”
How did he know that? “She lived a full life, and sadness was part of it.”
“Oh, I approve of everything about Cira. I think she approves of me, too. She’d have no objection to a little wildness, would she?”
The words brought back the memory of Caleb over her on this bank, his hands on her, his mind building erotic fantasies in the mist. She could feel her heart start to pound.
Heat.
Back away.
“I’m going to say good-bye now,” she repeated.
“Be careful going back. I wouldn’t want my upsetting you to cause you to take a dip in the lake. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jane.” He hung up.
As usual, he took the initiative away from me, she thought with annoyance as she shoved her phone into her pocket and started to walk down the bank.
But what did it matter? She was probably just on the defensive, as she usually was around Caleb. Actually, she was glad that he’d called tonight. Now everything was out in the open. What she’d done that night at the hospital had hung over her like a dark cloud for many months. She’d wanted to blame Caleb for striding away from her and not letting her say anything more after that terse and sardonic acceptance, but how could she have when she’d been in the wrong? She’d realized it almost at once.
Because she’d thought she’d actually seen hurt, when Caleb never showed hurt. But he’d armored himself so quickly that she hadn’t been certain.
Forget it. For heaven’s sake, she was worrying about hurting his feelings when he’d taken advantage of what she’d done and still expected her to jump into his bed the minute he snapped his fingers?
Nothing was ever completely as it should be between Caleb and her. If Caleb had his way, there would be plenty of other opportunities for both of them to heal or hurt each other.
And she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right about her lying awake in her bedroll and thinking about him. She’d been doing more than enough of that on this walk back to the campgrounds.
She stopped and took one last look at the lake before she went inside her tent.
The mist … and Cira.
That’s all she should be thinking about tonight.
But Caleb had intruded and, as always, had disturbed any tranquility she might have experienced. Oh well, Cira had never liked tranquility anyway. She had wanted to live every minute.
Jane ducked into the tent and lit her lantern, then started to undress.
She saw her sketchbook on the canvas table and continued to gaze at it as she put on her nightshirt.
It seemed to be waiting for her.
Lisa?
Or not.
But Jane knew that she wouldn’t be able to forget that sketchbook even after she turned off the lantern.
Nor should she.
She got into her bedroll, pulled up the blanket. Then she turned off the lantern and plunged the tent into darkness. She closed her eyes.
The mist.
Cira.
The sketchbook.
Lisa.
Sorry, Caleb, you’ll have to stand in line. They’re way ahead of you tonight.…
*
“Hurry!”
I’m trying, Lisa. Jane was fumbling desperately with lighting the lantern even as she reached for the sketchbook on the table. Stop nagging and let me work.
She had the lantern lit now and was flipping through the pages of the sketchbook.
You should have had it ready.
I wouldn’t have been able to sleep with it staring at me.… She was drawing now, closing everything out but the pencil and the paper before her. Her pencil was moving at top speed.
Don’t think.
Let it flow.
Let her flow.
Lisa.
Don’t try to tell the story. You don’t know it.
Let it come.
Fifteen minutes later, she threw the pencil down, breathing hard.
Done.
The sketch is different this time, Jane thought immediately when she pulled herself together enough to gaze down at it.
Lisa was standing at a tall, narrow window, looking down at the cliff below, which towered above a crashing surf. No view of her face at all, just her dark hair tied back, her slim body dressed in pants and a peasant blouse. One hand resting on the windowsill, which appeared to be smeared with a few drops of dried blood.
It appeared to be the same dark room, its dimness lightened only by the single window.
“You wanted me to see the cliff?” she murmured.
What else? Impatience. And that island in the distance. Pay attention to it. It’s a way out. I almost made it.
Jane went still. The thought had been clear and unmistakable. She tried to gather her thoughts together and send a message back to her. You’re answering me. And now that I think of it, you were nagging me and trying to wake me. Why didn’t you do that before?
I do what I can. I’m not good at this. I’ve never been taught. I’m having to learn everything by myself. You’re certainly no help.
Did you happen to get my message about attitude adjustment?
Yes, but you’d help me anyway.
But far more enthusiastically with a little politeness thrown in.
I don’t have time for it. I can only get through to you for a short time after you do the sketches. You’re not strong enough to hold me.
Jane could sense the desperation behind the words, and it frightened her. Then connect with someone else who is strong enough. I’ll do everything I can, but you’re obviously in danger. I don’t know anything about this kind of thing. Don’t fool around with trying to reach me, Lisa.
I can’t do it. You have the connection. It has to be you. Now pay attention. The shore at the bottom of the cliff is rocky, but maybe a boat … Silence. Then she said desperately, I can feel you fading away from me.
Jane quickly tried another way. Then tell me where you are. Tell me how I can get to you.
Not yet. Not until I know I can trust you to keep your word. Not him. Only you. It has to be only you.
Then tell me your name. If it’s some kind of kidnapping or something like that, maybe I can reach your family.
You’re not listening to me. Only you. And I told you my name. Lisa …
Big help. Please, your full name?
No answer.
Lisa!
Nothing.
Evidently, Lisa’s time had run out.
Crazy. The entire thing was bizarre and beginning to be terrifying.
The bruises.
The message written in blood.
The smear of blood on that windowsill that Lisa had probably been clutching before she climbed down to the cliff below.
The desperation, the frustration …
The vulnerability that Lisa was trying so hard to hide.
Just the fact that she was trying to hide both that desperation and vulnerability touched Jane.
What would she see in the next sketch?
She swallowed and reached for the bottle of water on the canvas table beside her bedroll.
If you’re still around, I hope you know you scared the hell out of me. I don’t know why, but like it or not, I’m beginning to care about you. Now help me to help you.