Chapter Seventeen
I barely had time to contemplate what to do, but managed to scramble up the tree next to me. Thank God the branches hung low enough for me to pull myself up.
The grunting, pissed-off hog tromped back and forth through the briars, taking out his frustration on the base of the tree, slashing deep gouges with its tusks. I tightened my grip on the branches, digging my fingers into the ridges of the bark.
From the safety of the tree, I saw more hogs on the other side of the briar patch. The herd consisted of eleven feral hogs, counting the five small piglets running jerkily behind their mother. I wasn’t sure which piglet had noted my arrival, but now that I was helplessly stuck up a tree, I wanted to drop-kick the little f*cker.
I pelted the hogs with small branches in hopes of scaring them off, but every time one of them squealed, the boar became even more agitated, lashing out at the tree trunk again.
I’d paid so much attention to the danger below me, I hadn’t realized the danger from above. A sudden crack of lightning scared me almost as much as it scared the hogs. They startled and ran in circles, grunting and squealing as they regrouped. Once it started raining, they shot off into the woods, as if they didn’t dare get wet. Who knew pigs were made of sugar?
My muscles hurt, and as badly as I wanted out of the tree, I forced myself to stay put, in case the hogs hadn’t left the area. At least a half hour later, I swung out of the tree, picked up the largest stick I could find as a weapon, and resumed my hike, walking as fast as possible. Running would’ve been quicker, but not smart on bare feet.
Determined to keep moving, I waded through slick mud and trudged over sharp sticks and rocks that bruised and poked into my heels. Brush scratched against my legs. Thorny vines littered the ground, pricking into my feet as I stepped on them. My wet hair plastered to my scalp and rainwater dripped into my eyes, making me blink constantly to clear my vision.
I tried to think of it as a nature walk, but who in their right mind would be out in this weather? My clothes stuck to me, chafing my waterlogged, sunburned skin, but I had to keep moving. Every moment I stopped to rest or pull thorns from my dirty feet put me dangerously closer to nightfall.
The longer I walked, the more my stress level rose. What if Jake assumed I had run off again? Would he bother looking for me? No, I couldn’t let myself think that. Though Jake couldn’t go to the authorities and organize a search party without drawing attention, he’d definitely be looking for me.
I hoped.
Hefting myself over a large dead tree, I spotted a dilapidated hunting blind ahead. It was unoccupied, unless you counted the mud daubers building a home in the entryway. I didn’t want to stop moving, but walking through the woods at night in the rain wasn’t an option.
I climbed up the broken ladder into the moldy blind and found a dry spot in the far corner. The hunting blind probably hadn’t been used in years and was falling apart at the seams. The leaky roof, rotted through in several places, left the wooden floor damp and swollen. One dry corner was all I needed and, apparently, all I was going to get.
I leaned my back against a wall of questionable sturdiness and shook from the inside out. It wasn’t cold, but the cool rain had soaked my sunburned limbs, and the contrast in temperatures made me shiver with the chills. The idea of spending the night in the woods alone probably played a part in it as well.
My feet felt like raw, splinter-infested nubs, but were too caked with mud to see any real damage. I didn’t bother wiping it away, though. The mud soothed the ant bites, keeping them from itching or burning. Dizzy and nauseated, I curled into a ball with severe muscle cramps.
The hunting blind darkened more and more until I could hardly see anything. I propped open a rotting, hinged window, but it was a moonless night and just as dark outside as it was inside. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, listening to the sound of the rain slapping the roof and feeling the walls shake every time the thunder rolled. The storm kept up its strength, but after a while, I lost what was left of mine.
I slumped back, trying to doze off, but couldn’t. When I opened my eyes again, panic hit me. It was pitch black, darker than dark, and I saw nothing, as if someone had stolen my vision. Many people are born not being able to see, but for a person with sight to go instantly blind, the terror is tremendous. It went against every grain in my body.
Fear weaved through my mind, conjuring up scenarios and tainted thoughts as to what happens to a girl alone in the woods at night. An image of Bigfoot popped into my head. Then one of vultures picking flesh from my bones. I guess I needed a legitimate cause for my insomnia, something besides staying alert in case Jake came looking for me.
Though I had blamed him earlier, I knew it wasn’t Jake’s fault that I was in this mess. If I were being honest with myself, I’d admit I had lost my way years before, after learning of my parents’ deaths. In some ways, I still felt like that lost little girl who had no one to turn to. No one who cared. No one to trust.
But that wasn’t true. Not anymore. I had people who were looking out for me. And Jake would find me. That I was sure of. He’d probably kill me once he did, but he would definitely not stop searching until he got the chance.
It was a comforting thought, but it still scared the hell out of me at the same time. Because what if I trusted him to come for me and he didn’t? Like my parents…or my policeman…
After it finally stopped raining, sleep deprivation and fatigue kicked in.
I fell asleep, dreaming I was in some sort of terrarium. I hiked through a forest, crawling over sticks and rocks in my path, sluggishly trying to find my way through the never-ending greenery. As I piloted my way through the dream, I realized someone watched me, waited for me, called to me. The two men who stepped out of the woods with the rope and shovel entered my thoughts. Voodoo people? The one missing an eyeball reached for me and said, “I want to feel your nice, warm innards.”
I cringed as his face morphed into Sergio’s, his blank, dead stare sending chills through my bones. He touched his cold fingers to my neck, and I shoved his hand away. He grasped my shoulders, shaking me and, although I screamed, he wouldn’t let go.
Then I heard a familiar whuffling sound. A horse? Yes, that’s it. The same sound I heard when I went into the barn to talk to…Jake!
Disconnecting from my dream, I felt someone’s hands on my shoulder and opened my eyes. The light of a lantern glowed behind a large, dark figure. It shadowed his face, but I knew the man wasn’t Jake. I shot backward and put my hands up instinctually for protection.
“Emily…it’s me.”
“Junior?” I leaned closer, caught a whiff of wintergreen, and relief swept over me.
He gathered me in a tight bear hug I hadn’t known I needed until he’d given it. “You’re okay,” he crooned softly, rubbing my shoulder. “Your feet…how bad are they?”
I pulled back from him and wiped at my face with the back of my hand. “They’re sore. How’d you find me?”
“I used to be a tracker, remember?” He pulled a canteen from around his shoulder, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to me. “It’s something I’ve always done well.”
He watched as I guzzled a large amount of water. Then he used the canteen to wash some of the mud off my feet, trying to get a better look at their condition. “You’ve got some thorns embedded.”
“Can you get them out?”
Stone-faced, Junior pulled the large buck knife from the sheath on his belt. My mouth dropped open. Last thing I wanted was someone poking my feet with a pint-sized sword, making them hurt more.
“Wait! Isn’t there a less painful solution?”
Amusement flickered in his eyes as he put his knife away. “Floss can take care of them for you when we get you back to the house. Can you stand?”
I tried to, but pain shot through my feet, pulling me back down.
“Scoot toward the door. I’ll help you from there.”
Junior slung the canteen strap over his shoulder and picked up the lantern. He pushed open the blind door and clicked his tongue. A large black stallion moved into view, wearing a saddle with the butt of a rifle sticking up next to it. The horse bobbed his head and gave a snort as he came closer, responding to his master’s gentle command.
Effortlessly, Junior lifted me onto the horse. He grabbed the lantern and the reins, then led us away from the blind on foot.
“Junior, you’re going the wrong way.”
He shot me a challenging look. “You want to trade places? I’ll ride and you can walk us out.”
I winced. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a backseat driver. Sometimes I have control issues.”
“Sometimes?” Junior laughed, as if he regarded me as entertainment. “I thought Lucy was demanding and free-spirited, but she never had anything on you.”
“Lucy?”
“My daughter.”
“Oh, yeah. The one with the great taste in clothes. I bet she wreaked havoc on your wallet,” I said, gripping the saddle horn tighter as the horse followed Junior down a slight hill.
“It was always her taste in men I worried more about.”
“She’s dating someone you don’t like?”
“Not anymore,” he said abruptly, his tone becoming more serious.
I got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about it, so I changed the subject. “Some hogs cornered me when I came through the woods.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“They trapped me up in a tree.”
“I know that, too.”
“The big one looked weird, and he was mean.”
“Most wild hogs can become aggressive if cornered, but if you stay away from them, they’ll usually leave you alone.”
I shook my head, though he couldn’t see because his back was to me. “I wasn’t messing with him. It was the other way around. He charged me, and I don’t mean by asking for my credit card.”
He grinned back at me. “Why do you think he looked weird?” I gave him a quick description of the females and babies. “The sows sound like wild domesticates,” Junior said. “Some of the locals call them Piney Wood Rooters. They’re leaner because they don’t pick up weight easily. What about the boar?”
“Gigantic, probably like four-hundred pounds,” I told him. “And he had a big nose.”
“You mean a long nose?”
“Whatever. But smaller ears. His back sloped like this,” I said, using my hand to demonstrate an uphill motion. “He had this short, straight tail with hair or something on the end that looked funny, like…oh, I know! Pumba’s tail on The Lion King. Oh, never mind. You probably don’t even know what movie I’m talking about… Anyway, he was different than the others. Much scarier and way more aggressive.”
Junior stopped, walked up beside the horse, and glared at me, his face serious. “You’re trying to tell me you went up against a pure Russian boar weighing four-hundred pounds?”
“Is that what he was?”
He shrugged, then started leading the horse again. “It’s not like I’d call your description a reliable method for identification.”
“Hey, I got a good look at him while stuck in the damn tree. Wasn’t much else to do.”
Junior flicked another grin over his shoulder.
After that, we drifted in and out of silence. The dark night air and the rocking motion of the horse made me groggy. Junior tried to keep me awake by talking. It must’ve been some chore, since I never saw him as someone who did much of it.
“Open your eyes, Emily, or you’re not going to stay upright on that horse much longer,” he ordered, stopping for a moment. “It’s close to daylight.” The blue tinge of morning happened upon us, so Junior extinguished the lantern and stowed it on the side of the saddle.
Up to this point, I hadn’t had the courage to inquire about Jake, but I needed to know before we got back to the house. “Okay, how pissed off is Jake at—”
“Shhhh!” Junior stood motionless for a second more, then reached for his rifle.
He stepped in front of the horse and motioned with his hand for me to stay put. He walked toward a sound I couldn’t hear, guarding me from an unknown evil. Both his hands cradled the weapon in a defensive position, ready to react at a moment’s notice.
Like a cannonball, the boar shot out of the brush straight toward him. Junior raised the rifle and aimed, but he didn’t shoot. I wanted to yell, but wouldn’t dare risk distracting him, which would inevitably endanger his life—and mine. The hog was closing in fast.
Now! Damn it, shoot him now!
I opened my mouth to scream, but he fired. The sound ricocheted off the surrounding trees. With a bullet hole between the eyes, the boar collapsed, hitting the ground and sliding to a dead stop next to Junior’s booted feet.
The horse lurched skittishly under me. I grasped a handful of its mane and held on in case it bolted. A click of Junior’s tongue settled the stallion instantly.
The sight was ridiculous. Junior stood over the massive boar as if it were a harmless puppy. The man had steel cable nerves and a pair of brass balls.
My eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Holy shit!”
Junior shrugged. “Hakuna matata.”
…
Junior had parked his truck and horse trailer two miles downstream from where he found my tracks on the bank. Once he trailered his horse, we drove toward the house.
“I can’t believe you found me,” I told him, the hero worship written all over my face. “Especially at night after it rained. You must be good at tracking.” He smiled at me, but didn’t say anything. “I don’t really know how to thank you.”
“You just did.”
I lowered my eyes. “I thought Jake would be looking for me…but I guess…well, he must be mad…”
“Nobody’s mad, Emily. Worried, but not mad. Jake and the other boys found the spot where you fell into the river and called me. I picked up my horse and parked my truck farther downstream while they all split up searching the banks from there on foot. Over the years, I’ve taught each of them boys how to track, and they’re good”—he gave me a wink—“but I’m better.”
I offered him a smile. “Should we call and tell them I’m with you?”
“Cell phones don’t work back here. Too many trees, no clearings. When we hit the highway, we’ll call Floss and let her spread the word. They’re carrying two-way radios to stay in touch with Hank.”
“It was kind of you and the others to help. You guys hardly know me.”
“I know you, Emily. Better than you think. You are so much like my daughter, Lucy, in personality. The two of you could’ve passed for sisters.”
“I’d like to meet her.”
“You can’t. She died four years ago.”
The shock made my head whip around to him. “Oh, I…I’m sorry. No one told me. I thought the clothes…”
“I couldn’t get rid of them before, but you came along and…well, I wanted to help. It made it easier to part with them.”
I patted his hand with understanding. “May I ask how she died?”
“Lucy was in her first year of college when she met a man named Brian Wellington. They went out only a few times, but he was obsessed with her. He got jealous easily, so she broke it off. When he caught her at a party talking to another boy, he went crazy. After she left the party, he followed her back to her dorm and stabbed her to death. The bastard went into hiding before the police could arrest him.”
“Did they find him?”
“No.” Junior’s eyes turned black, making him look more savage than I’d ever seen him. “And they never will.”
I swallowed. He didn’t have to spell it out for me. “Is that why you stopped working as a tracker?”
“Yes.”
“What about Lucy’s mother?”
“Suzanne died a year after Lucy from a brain aneurysm.”
“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to lose everyone you care about. My parents…”
“I know.”
I gave him a strange look. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
He grinned, but didn’t answer.
“Who told you?”
“The first time I met you, I knew something was going on. When Jake introduced you as his girlfriend, you were caught off guard.” He chuckled softly, as if remembering the look on my face. “Few people can lie to me and get away with it. Jake’s not one of them.”
“I understand helping Jake find me when you thought I was his girlfriend, but now that you know I’m nothing to him, why bother?”
“I could find you faster than the boys could. I wasn’t able to save my daughter…or my wife…but I could help you. It won’t bring them back, but maybe it’ll save my soul. ” He gave me a knowing look. “And you’re something to Jake, whether you two admit it or not.”
…
Floss hugged me tightly, bringing a smile to my face, before Junior could lift me out of the truck. I didn’t doubt she’d been standing in the driveway since we hung up with her.
“Hank and Jake are on their way back now,” Floss said. “Let’s get you inside and clean you up.”
Junior carried me into the cottage with ease and sat me gently on the bed. He turned to leave, but I grabbed his hand, pulling him back. I touched the side of his face and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good man, Junior.”
With his Native American skin color it was hard to tell, but I was sure he blushed. “Take care,” he said before leaving.
Floss played doctor, checking the bump on my head and looking at the scratches on my legs before pulling two thorns and a couple of large splinters out of my feet. Several small cuts had dirt packed in them, but I told her I’d scrub it out in the shower. She helped me stand—amazingly easy to do when you don’t have spikes crippling your feet—and shuffled me into the bathroom.
I sat on the bed with fresh clothes and clean, damp hair while Floss checked my feet again. With the dirt and mud gone, thorns and splinters would be easier to spot. She removed another sizable splinter, applied antibiotic cream to both feet, then wrapped them in gauze. I was glad I wouldn’t have to look at the small white pustules that had formed where the fire ants stung me. It was like my feet had broken out with a bad case of acne.
As she finished, Jake exploded through the cottage door wearing his gun in his shoulder holster. I jumped, not having heard them pull up. He didn’t say a word, just positioned himself in the doorway. I tried not to look directly at him. Flustered, I waited for him to move, to do something, to yell at me, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’m going to let you two chat,” Floss said before making herself scarce.
The room closed in on me and I couldn’t breathe. If Floss was running, I had to expect the worst. I wished she’d taken Jake’s gun with her.
He was bound to be upset that I caused more trouble, costing them all a sleepless night. I probably could guess his thoughts. Hurricane Emily strikes again. He openly and loudly disapproved of my stunts any other time. Why wasn’t he shouting colorful words at me already?
After the bar fight, he struggled to control his temper in the parking lot. Before that, I hadn’t thought he was capable of losing control. Not completely, anyway. Sure, he yelled at me a lot when I made him angry. Holy freaking cow! I must’ve done a bang-up job pushing his buttons if I left him speechless. He was never this quiet, this motionless, for any length of time.
I should say something, apologize or at least explain what happened. I wasn’t sure it was the smart thing to do. His silence and restricted movements were “Don’t Feed The Bear” signs, if I’d ever seen them. If I opened my mouth now, I’d be inviting the danger. Maybe it’s what he wanted. His way of surrounding me with fuel, striking a match, and letting the flames force me to react. With unwavering patience, Jake could easily wait me out.
Someone had to go first. “Before you say anything, I’d like to—”
“Don’t.” The only word he spoke.
Shit. “If you’re going to yell at me, get it over—”
“Don’t speak.”
F*ck me. What’s he going to say next, three words? The anticipation was killing me, but I sat quietly, wondering what he was thinking. Come on, Jake. Yell at me. Punch a wall. Do something. Anything.
When he moved toward me, I changed my mind.
He sat on the side of the bed, facing me. I instinctually drew away from him, but he wouldn’t allow it. His arm slid around my waist, pulling me back and making me flinch. I still wasn’t sure of his mindset. My eyes refused to meet his, avoiding the storm I imagined raging inside, but he caught my chin and lifted it.
I was surprised at what I saw. Jake looked terrible. No, he looked like shit. And it wasn’t from the bruises left over from the bar brawl.
A painful scowl puckered his face and his dark, unruly hair was disheveled. His gray eyes appeared weathered, as if he had aged ten years overnight. Every bit of the strain showed on his face, but he didn’t look mad. He looked…pitiful.
“Jake…?”
“Shhh,” he said, pulling me into his chest. “Don’t talk.” His hand twisted into my hair as his fingers made feather-light strokes against my scalp. “Jesus, Emily. You were gone, dead for all I knew. I wasn’t sure we’d find you in time and I couldn’t stop thinking if I’d only—”
“Jake, I’m fine.”
He studied my face as his eyes clouded over. “But I’m not.” Then his mouth covered mine.
I tried not to lose my smarts, struggling to control the mind clutter and scattered feelings. But I had to contemplate whether Jake had a passive-aggressive disorder. When his tongue swept into my mouth, caressing mine, I no longer cared. After all, I’m no doctor. Hell, I was in the midst of spiking a fever myself.
When Jake resurfaced, his gray eyes had changed. Cold, murky ashes now smoldered with heat. He traced a velvety finger along my collarbone, as if finger painting across my skin, until he reached the strap of my halter top. Pushing it aside, he gently pressed his lips to my shoulder, then his tongue, making me shiver at his slight touch.
Confused, I pushed him back. “W-what are you doing?”
“If you don’t know,” Jake said, snaking his hand around my neck, “then you’re way behind.” He nipped at my bottom lip and trailed his mouth up my jaw.
“Wait…” I murmured unconvincingly, as his lips brushed across my ear, his tongue flicking at my lobe. But he wasn’t stopping. “Jake, hold on.” I put my hands on his chest and moved him back again. “Why are you acting like nothing happened?”
“I’m not,” he said softly, settling his hands on my hips and pulling me closer. “Something happened. Fine. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Later?” Did we switch roles somehow and I wasn’t aware of it? “Why later? Why not right now?”
“Because, right now, we’re busy.” Jake nudged me onto my back and crawled over me, lifting my shirt to reveal my midriff. He tickled it with his soft lips, moving upward with the shirt until he neared my breasts.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins, disrupting the delicate balance of oxygen and carbon dioxide in my brain. It made it harder to think. Was he planning to yell at me later? If so, I wasn’t sure I wanted to have sex with him before getting berated.
With my hands, I blocked his progression to my breasts. “Talk first, sex later.”
He groaned with frustration and flopped onto his back. “Never thought I’d hear you say that,” he grumbled.
“Neither did I,” I admitted, trying to get control of my senses. “What is this? Aren’t you mad at me?”
“For stopping me, yes. For falling into the river and getting lost in the woods, no.”
I tossed him a suspicious glance. “You’re not mad?”
“God, Emily, it was an accident. We knew what happened the moment we found where you fell into the water. What we didn’t know was what happened to you afterward. I wasn’t even sure you made it out of the river alive. Not until Floss reached us on the radio and told us Junior had found you.” He ran his fingers through his hair, the stress of the memory showing plainly on his face. “I knew Junior would get to you first. The boys and I are good at tracking, but—”
“He’s better,” I said, finishing his sentence.
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Junior said that, didn’t he?”
I smirked in confirmation.
“That stupid Indian has no modesty when it comes to his abilities,” he said. “He’s good at everything and damn well knows it. But I guess you know that already.”
“Because he found me first?”
“We passed Junior on the road. He told us about the hogs. You don’t know how lucky you are the Russian boar didn’t get ahold of you.”
“Well, I’m not stupid. I wasn’t going to stand there and let a four-hundred pound pig—”
“Five.”
“Huh?”
Jake sat upright. “Junior said the hog was closer to five hundred pounds.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel stupid for guessing low or smart for coming as close as I did.
“It was a good guess,” Jake said, which made me feel better. He swiped a strand of hair from my cheek and pushed it behind my ear. His hand rested on my neck, his thumb rolling lightly over my cheek. His eyes glazed over with emotion. “I…I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you, Emily.”
I touched his face in an effort to comfort him, but didn’t miss the shift in his posture or the stretched seam in his jeans. “Jake, I—”
“I need you, Emily. I need to touch you, to feel you under me. No more waiting. No more wanting. Right now.”
“What about the rules? You said—”
“Screw the rules.” He pushed me back onto my back, rolled on top of me, and nuzzled into my neck. “Now, where were we?”
Something dug into my rib cage. “Wait a second. You forgot something.”
“I have condoms,” he whispered, touching his lips to my skin.
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, though he ignored me, still licking and kissing my neck. “Jake…? Jake, stop.”
Reluctantly, he paused, but I could feel his hard-on through his jeans. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“No. It’s hurting me. Where are you putting your gun?”
Jake grinned widely. “Depends on which one you’re referring to.”