by J. D. Robb
He swam in lazy circles around and around, grateful for the chance to work out the kinks in his muscles caused by the long hours in the shed.
Far out on the lake he spotted a sudden flash of light. His first thought was that it was a ribbon of moonlight trailing across the water. But the shape of it was all wrong. This was a single light that shimmered like a spotlight and appeared to be dancing atop the waves.
His heart gave a quick, hard bounce. This wasn’t merely the reflection of the moon or stars on water. This was a steady, shimmering light that seemed to be moving toward him. There was no doubt that this was Grace’s mysterious spirit light.
Knowing that Grace was missing the opportunity of a lifetime, he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted her name. In the darkness he could hear the echo of his voice bouncing across the water and echoing in the nearby forest. Several more times he shouted, keeping watch on the door of the cabin, hoping to see Grace.
Pulling himself onto the dock he shouted again at the top of his lungs, but there was no sign of her.
The mysterious light was closer now, and moving directly toward him.
He slipped into his jeans and stood watching as the light continued drawing near. While he watched, the light began to glimmer brightly before it gradually took on the unmistakable shape of a woman.
She was too far away to see clearly. Her hair was covered by some sort of hooded cape that left her face in shadow. The cape, long and flowing, swirled about her ankles and shimmered with golden light as she appeared to glide effortlessly across the silvery waves.
Josh knew his jaw had dropped. Though he thought briefly of fleeing, he stood riveted to the spot.
While he stared in amazement, she paused and extended her arms, palms uplifted toward the sky. At her movement, a gust of bitter wind whipped the waves to foam and sent the trees along the shore dipping and swaying. The wind ruffled his hair and bit into his flesh, leaving him shivering.
Through it all he experienced no fear, only a sense of wonder at what he was witnessing. The light around her grew brighter until it was nearly blinding in its intensity.
While he watched, the image of the woman began to shimmer and fade until it was gone. In its place there was only darkness.
Josh shuddered and realized that the air had grown frigid. Chilled to the bone, he snatched up the blanket and shirt and boots and made a mad dash toward the warmth of the cabin.
“Ummm.” Hearing the sound of the cabin door, Grace was abruptly yanked from the most pleasant dream. She’d been a little girl again, warm and snug in the embrace of her mother. Though she couldn’t see the woman’s face, she’d known instinctively who she was.
Struggling to hold onto the memory, she sat up, shoving tangles of hair from her eyes. “Guess I fell asleep.”
She turned and, seeing the look on Josh’s face, was suddenly wide awake. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’d call her.” Too agitated to think about sleep, Josh set the coffeepot over the coals before pulling on his shirt.
“Her?”
He turned and gave a solemn nod. “Your spirit. She was out there.”
“You saw her?” Grace was on her feet and across the room in an instant, clutching his hands. “What did she look like? What did she do?”
At her touch, he experienced again the quick flare of heat and blamed it on the fact that he was still wired from what he’d just experienced. “I never really saw her face, but she looked the way I’d expect a ghost to look.”
“How?”
He shrugged. “Shimmering light, a kind of ethereal form that suggested a woman.”
He was already questioning what he’d seen. Had it really been a spirit? Or had that icy swim after so many hours of hot, sweaty work affected his mind?
Grace squeezed his hands. “Did she say anything?”
“Not a word. But I had the feeling that she’d been expecting someone else.” Or had he imagined that, as well? “Anyway, she lifted her arms and there was this sudden rush of cold air, almost as if she’d summoned it.” He shivered, remembering. “The trees along the shore were bent low from it, and the waves turned to angry foam. And then, as quickly as she’d come, she was gone.”
“And I missed it.” She released his hands and turned away on a moan of disgust.
“If it’s any consolation, I did my best to wake you.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You did?”
He nodded. “I shouted your name at the top of my voice. Actually, I called you a couple of times, but got no response.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. I’m the lightest sleeper in the world. The sound of a pin dropping can have me awake and pacing for hours. I can’t believe I missed the reason I’m here.” Grace gave a long, deep sigh of annoyance.
“Hey, you’re only human. You’ve been through a lot since yesterday. We both have.” He moved up behind her and closed his hands around her upper arms, rubbing gently. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll visit again tomorrow night.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“Maybe I’m just trying to convince myself as well as you.” His voice, so close to her ear, sent shivers along her spine.
She turned and found his face inches from hers. “You still look pale.” She touched a hand to his cheek. “You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine.” His voice sounded husky to his own ears. “But I wouldn’t object if you wanted to hold me.” He gave her a heart-stopping grin. “Just for a minute, of course.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that curved her lips. “Oh, sure. Of course. Hold you.”
“Hey, it’s not every day I encounter a ghost.”
“Well, at least you saw her. That’s more than I can claim.” Still smiling she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Mmmm. That’s helping a lot. I feel better already.” With a sigh he drew her close and pressed his mouth to the tangle of hair at her temple. “But if you feel like kissing me, just until my heart settles down, you understand, I won’t object to that, either.”
Now she was laughing. A soft, rumbling laugh that welled up and spilled over. “That’s a good line, Josh. I bet you’ve had a lot of luck with it.”
His smile went straight to her heart. “Actually, this is the first time I’ve tried it. Is it working?”
“I’d say so. I am holding you. And I’m halfway tempted to kiss you.”
“You are?”
Her laughter grew. “Just to see if I can soothe your poor, overworked heart.”
“I knew, the first time I saw you, that you were an angel of mercy.” His mouth covered hers in the softest of kisses before he drew back.
The laughter died on her lips.
Seeing it, he dragged her close, keeping his gaze steady on hers. “But the thoughts I’m having about you right now are far from heavenly.” This time his kiss was neither soft nor gentle. The arms that held her were almost bruising as he savaged her mouth.
For the space of a heartbeat she pulled back, caught by surprise. Then, as his lips claimed hers again, she sighed and leaned into him, giving herself up to the moment.
His lips moved over hers until she opened to him, urging him to take more. And he did, holding her so close, she could feel every beat of his heart inside her own chest. The taste of him, wild and just a bit dangerous, excited her. The press of that hard, muscled body to hers had her brain scrambling until she couldn’t seem to hold a single, coherent thought.
What would it be like to lie with him? To have those strong arms around her all night? To give in to the pleasure he offered, until they were both sated?
“Josh. Wait.” Struggling for breath, she pushed free of his arms. “I’m . . . no good at this.”
He caught her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I’d say you’re very good.”
“I don’t mean kissing. It’s this . . . man-woman thing. Relationships. I’m just no good at it.”<
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He started to draw her close. “Then we’ll forget about relationships and just go back to kissing.”
She started to laugh, but it came out on a sigh. “Sorry. I really enjoy kissing you. But sooner or later it would lead to more. And that just never works for me.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Maybe you’ve just never tried it with the right one.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged and backed away.
Picking up her jacket she slung her backpack over her arm and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Outside.”
“It’s cold and dark out there.”
“Yeah. That ought to help me cool off. And who knows? Maybe the spirit will make another appearance. If she does, this time I’ll be there to record her visit.”
On a sigh of frustration Josh stood in the middle of the room, staring at the closed door. Finally he poured himself a cup of coffee and dropped onto a chair, staring into the flames of the fire. Unfolding the army blanket, he wrapped it around himself and felt the warmth envelop him.
He’d experienced so many things in his adventures, but this was a first. There was the ghost, of course. But that didn’t even come close to what he’d just experienced in Grace’s arms.
In his entire life, he’d never been so affected by a woman. What he was experiencing had to be full-blown lust. It wasn’t possible to fall head-over-heels in love with someone he didn’t even know.
Love or lust, he’d give just about everything he had right now to satisfy this gut-wrenching need.
Six
Josh woke with a start and stared around.
A fire blazed on the grate. The wonderful fragrance of coffee permeated the little cabin. Grace was kneeling on the hearth, filling a mug.
Without a word he stood and made his way to her. Dropping to his knees he touched a hand to her cheek. “You all right?”
Her head came up with a snap. “I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are.” His eyes were grave. “About last night . . .”
“No.” She scrambled to her feet a little too quickly. “Nothing happened last night. I’m sorry I made such a fuss over a simple kiss.”
“Grace, we both know there was nothing simple about that kiss.” Because she was determined to keep her distance, he tucked his hands into his pockets, to keep from reaching out to her.
“It doesn’t matter. It won’t happen again.”
He was watching her closely. “Want to bet? It will if I have anything to say about it.”
“Josh, I . . .” At the barking of a dog, she turned to stare out the window.
A big yellow dog was heading toward the cabin, dancing along beside an old man.
“Who in the world . . . ?” Grace crossed the room and tore open the door. “Hello.”
The old man smiled and touched a hand to the dog’s head. At once the dog sat, tail thumping the ground in a steady rhythm. “I saw the smoke and realized that someone was staying in the old lodge.”
“Lodge?”
He stepped closer. He wore a heavy parka and a felt hat with an eagle feather tucked into the brim. His face was the texture of aged leather, with deep creases around his eyes and mouth. “Many years ago, when I was a boy, the lodge of my people stood on this very spot.”
Grace held the door wide. “Would you and your dog like to come in? I’ve made coffee.”
“Thank you.” The old man stepped inside, and the dog followed.
Grace extended her hand. “My name is Grace Marin.”
The old man took her hand in his. “Grace. The name suits you.” His eyes, dark as midnight, stared into hers. “Do you know what it means?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“It means ‘one who is blessed with beauty and grace.’ ”
From the way he was studying her, Grace had the strangest feeling that he could see clear into her soul. Flushing under his scrutiny, she turned away. “This is Josh Cramer.”
“Josh means ‘warrior on whom the spirits smile.’ ” The stranger extended his hand, and Josh accepted his handshake. “Forgive an old man. I have always been fascinated with the meaning of names. I am Wyatt Eagle.”
Despite the man’s age, Josh could feel the power in his grasp. “And what does Wyatt mean?”
“ ‘Guide.’ And my dog is Barnaby.”
Josh ruffled the dog’s fur. “Does his name have meaning as well?”
Wyatt nodded. “His name means ‘consolation.’ He has brought me much comfort since we first met. He seems to have that effect on all who meet him.”
Josh knelt down and studied the dog’s sleek coat. “He looks healthy. Have you had him since he was a pup?”
“He belonged to a woman who spent her last days here at Spirit Lake. When she knew the end of her life was near, she asked me to keep him safe until I found him the perfect home.”
“I’d say you already have. He’s lucky to have you.”
“We are both fortunate.” When Grace handed him a mug of steaming coffee, Wyatt gave her a smile. “Thank you.”
Grace indicated the sofa. “Why don’t you sit here by the fire? We were just thinking about some breakfast. Would you join us?”
“Thank you. I will.” He sank down gratefully and sipped his coffee.
“So.” Josh poured himself coffee and stood with his back to the fire. “You stay here all year round?”
The old man nodded. “I am surprised to find anyone else here. What brings you to Spirit Lake so late in the season?”
Grace poured water into a bowl and set it on the floor, watching as Barnaby began to drink. “Josh is here to film a journey through the wilderness for a television producer.” She began breaking eggs into a bowl before stirring them. “And I work for a newsmagazine that wants me to photograph the light that dances across the lake.” She paused before asking, “Have you ever seen it?”
“Not many have had that privilege. But in my youth some of the old ones in our village claimed to have seen her.”
“Her? You know for certain it’s a woman?” The egg mixture was forgotten. Too excited to think about food, Grace sat beside him. “What can you tell me about her?”
Without a word Josh moved to the small kitchen counter to take up the chore that Grace had abandoned.
The old man turned to Grace, who was twitching with excitement. “What would you like to know?”
“For openers, who she is and why she’s here.”
The old man sipped his coffee before setting it aside. “Her name has been lost through the ages. She was accused by her husband, elderly chief of an ancient people, of lying with another man. She did not deny it, but said that the man was a warrior, who had left to fight the intruders on the border. Among the ancient people warriors were considered more worthy of esteem than even the chief, for without brave warriors to see to their safety, their small nation would surely disappear as so many others had before them. The council decreed that if the warrior claimed the woman upon his return, it would be his right, and the old chief must step aside for the good of the people. The chief had no choice but to agree, but he stipulated that, whatever the outcome, their young daughter would remain with him. Though the young wife wept bitter tears over the loss of her daughter, she was shut out of the chief’s lodge and sent away to await her warrior lover.”
As he crossed the room to place the egg mixture in a skillet over the fire, Josh glanced at Grace’s face. She was clearly as fascinated by this old man’s tale as he was. While he slowly heated the eggs and set bread on the grate to brown, he listened carefully to the old man’s voice.
“The woman had been married to the old chief when she was but ten and three years, and now she was confined to a cold, tiny shelter outside the circle of the others.”
Grace broke into his narrative. “She was only thirteen when they were married?”
The old man nodded. “The ancient ones married young, and often died young. And because he was chief, when his old w
ife joined the spirit world, he chose a young, strong maiden to see him through his old age. As you can imagine, this handsome young warrior, so brave, so full of passion and love and laughter, had brought spring into the young woman’s life. She could no more resist him than she could refuse to breathe. But the excitement she felt for him was overshadowed by the loss of the daughter she loved above all things.”
Josh filled three plates and carried them to the scarred coffee table, before pulling up a chair for himself. Besides the scrambled eggs, Josh had added fresh, pan-fried trout from the bucket of fish.
Wyatt Eagle studied the meal. “This is a rare treat. I have not tasted such as this for a very long time.”
“Then I’m glad we had some to share with you.” Grace glanced over at Josh. “I’m so glad you finished what I started. This is really good.”
He winked at her, causing her heart to do an odd little dance. “Happy to oblige, ma’am.”
They both fell silent as they savored their meal, but it was obvious that Grace wanted to know more about the legend.
When at last Wyatt Eagle sat back, sipping strong black coffee, she could wait no longer. “Did the maiden’s warrior return?”
Wyatt watched as both she and Josh shared their food with Barnaby. The dog ate his fill, before stretching out in front of the fire. Only then did the old man return to his tale.
“One day, as the bleak winter days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the woman heard voices raised in celebration. Racing from her shelter she hurried to the cluster of people, searching for the face of her warrior. One of the young braves stepped forward to tell her that her beloved had died in battle. Dropping to the ground, she buried her face in her hands and wept bitter tears. As the hours passed, she realized how desperate her situation had become. A lone female, without the protection of a warrior, couldn’t possibly survive in this harsh land. Swallowing her pride, she made her way to the chief’s shelter. When she entered, the voices of the others fell silent. The chief stood, pushing his little daughter behind him. From the corner of her father’s robe, the child peered at the mother who was now a stranger. The woman bowed before the chief and admitted the shame she had brought to him, asking him to find it in his heart to forgive her. She promised from that day forward to lie with him and cook for him, so that together they could raise up their child to take her proper place among their people. The chief’s face became as dark as a thundercloud, and his voice roared like that of the black bear as he told her that because she had shamed him, he would never take her back. If she wished to survive, she must uncover the warrior within herself. Then he turned her fate over to the council, who ordered her to be tossed into the frigid waters of the lake.”