Waiting for Eden
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A novel by
Jessica Leigh
Copyright, 2013
Cover Design by M. L. Martineau
[email protected]
On Twitter @ml_martineau
Waiting for Eden
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Waiting for Eden
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Chapter 1
Goosebumps perked along every inch of her bare skin. It had been way too cold to swim, a big mistake on her part. Alexandra Winters bent down to retrieve her little towel, and rubbed it briskly along her arms and legs. The air was stringent and punishing.
Alex wrapped the dampened towel around her midriff, and sighed, frustrated that her heart hadn’t lifted at all today. The little pond had been the most beautiful thing she had seen in a very long while. She had been hopeful.
She had wanted this solitude, right? She was ensconced in the center of Pennsylvania’s wildest mountains, where the trees stretched like an endless sea, ridge after rocky ridge.
An occasional dirt road permeated their depths, the only mark of humanity Alexandra could discern. She hadn’t seen a hint of another hiker along the past nine miles of trail. But the magnitude of her isolation was beginning to make her uneasy. It gave her too much space to think.
Closing her eyes briefly, Alex drew in a long draught of the freshest air she had ever inhaled, and then released it heavily. Could she forget the past for one minute? Christ, she would settle for a mere dimming of the images that relentlessly flickered across her mind, as they had continuously over the last few months.
She picked her way slowly and carefully through the wild meadow grasses, gingerly trying the ground with her painted toes before putting down her full weight. God only knew upon what she might step. Alexandra Winters never went barefoot, at least not outside the lushly carpeted floors of their apartment.
She would NOT think about that apartment. Alexandra chewed her lower lip and staunchly focused again on her perfectly manicured feet. Well, almost perfect. She was sporting the beginnings of an ugly blister on the knuckle of her big toe.
When a man suddenly cleared his throat not ten feet away from her, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She couldn’t swallow her resultant shriek as she whipped the towel from her shoulder and clutched it over her chest. Her initial instinct was to run, but to where?
Slowly, she managed to process the gray-green uniform he wore and his pointedly raised eyebrows. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes couldn’t quite conceal his mirth.
“Fine day for a dip, I suppose.”
She finally found her voice. “Who the hell are you?” she managed to demand as firmly and coldly as she could.
He drew back slightly, blinking, and that hint of a smile now curved the corners of his lips upwards into a full-blown grin. Alex had an instant to take in a mop of tousled, sandy hair and the glimmer of very blue eyes.
Although he was perched on a log, his body appeared long, lean, and well-made. Really well-made. His biceps, both cut and tanned, drew her eyes immediately. When she tore her gaze back to his face, he was grinning at her. She flushed, and her mouth opened again as the heat of her embarrassment and anger began to send prickles of warmth along her arms and down her spine.
“Why are you spying on me? This is... this is an invasion of privacy!”
“Invasion of privacy...” he repeated while studying her intently, scratching his chin nonchalantly. He was still grinning. “State Forest Land is not exactly private. Not even the deer get much of a break.”
Alex exhaled her pent up breath, her heart still racing over the initial shock of discovery. Christ, she was only wrapped in a towel. She raised herself to her full height of five-foot-five, and looked down her nose at him. The fact that he was sitting helped immensely. But she only sputtered, unable to find a suitable retort in this particular instance. Alexandra Winters always found a comeback. She gritted her teeth in annoyance.
“Fine,” she eventually managed to grind out inanely. Striding to her pile of clothes, she grabbed up her shorts and began to unceremoniously yank them on.
“Look, I’m not here to hassle you, or to ‘spy’ on you,” the forester said to her back.
Alex whirled around, and was surprised to find that he had risen and turned away for the sake of her modesty. How charming. Then her eyes were drawn to her fire pit, where the little blaze she had earlier created was now smothered with a pile of dirt. It had taken her forty-five entire minutes to start the damned thing!
“Honestly, who the hell do you think you are, mister?” Alex moved toward him with her hands on her hips. Clothed now in a cotton tee-shirt and shorts, she felt much stronger, far less vulnerable. Cauldrons of anger and bitterness seemed to well up within the pit of her stomach at his still nonchalant expression. She was swept along with it.
“Mister... James Sheldon?” She inquired icily, reading from the little brass nameplate that was pinned to his funny, gray-green shirt. “Oh, you’re a District Forester.” The title was inscribed in smaller lettering beneath the name. “Mr. Woodsey Owl himself?”
James stared at her with unreadable blue eyes. “I’m also a Fire Warden.”
“You think I... give a hoot?” she quipped.
James the forester did not react to her bitch-princess attitude. But his gaze had strayed down over her breasts, which she could tell were pressing impudently against the thin, white cotton of her tee. She smirked.
He bristled a bit, but held her challenging stare with his own cool one. “If you haven’t noticed or didn’t read the postings at any of the trail entrances, we are in the middle of a severe drought. The fire hazard is high. Camp fires at undesignated sites are strictly prohibited.” All hint of any smile vanquished, the forester had put on his best lecture stance and voice.
It didn’t faze her. She only sniffed, and tossed a disdainful glance over her shoulder. “Unless my eyes deceive me, that stream is still running.”
Alexandra watched as he ground his teeth slightly, obviously at war with a burgeoning temper.
“Fire’s are prohibited,” he repeated, noticeably keeping his voice light and casual. Crossing his arms, he cocked his head and returned her look, smug-for-smug. She smoldered back at him.
He must have seen something else in the depths of her eyes, because a sudden look of concern crossed his features. “You’re by yourself, it seems,” James murmured, and his voice was softer now, more personal. “Is everything okay?”
She felt a moment’s tug inside her. But why would he care?
“I’m fine, I’m a big girl,” she retorted, after her initial pause. “Now you on the other hand…” She eyed him up slowly. “You look like you haven’t passed the twelfth grade yet.”
When he only sighed at her, Alex felt a swift twinge of guilt at her intentional abrasiveness. He was rather young, but James Sheldon was no school boy. He was tall, and his body was a man’s – well filled out and muscular. She could see the shape of his chest beneath the shirt, and it tugged a very female response right out of her.
The backs of his hands were wind and weather roughened, covered with a smattering of fine gold hair. His eyes, which had looked so blue and insouciant only minutes ago, had perceptibly darkened as he stiffened at her continued jibes.
Why the hell was she attacking him like this? Alex wondered, blinking in momentary confusion. Then she remembered. He had ruined her entire afternoon by breaking the solitude and smothering her fire.
Alex opened her mouth to ask him to get the hell out of her campsite, but closed it when he busily pulled out a little notebook and pen.
“Your name, Miss...”
&nbs
p; “What are you doing?” she barked suspiciously.
He looked up at her coldly from under sandy lashes. “Writing you up.”
“What for?”
“Insolence, disorderly conduct-”
“Bullshit!”
“Oh yes, and profanity.” She gaped at him, and saw the sweet satisfaction in his eyes.
He cleared his throat, obviously trying not to grin again. “But in all seriousness, not only did you start a roaring fire, but you left it completely unattended to frolic in yonder waters.”
“Only for a minute!”
“That fire was burning for a good forty-five minutes. I spotted it from the tower, and it took me a good half hour to get here on foot.”
“What happened to the other fifteen minutes?” she sputtered, again at a loss.
James only stared at her. “Your name,” he repeated firmly.
This man had been spying on her. While she was only in her panties. She ground her teeth. “Alexandra. Alexandra Winters.”
“Miss or Mrs.?”
“Mrs.,” she spat, anger replacing her disbelief.
“Middle name?” he asked, his voice dripping with a false politeness that he knew she recognized. He was badgering her for details, why, he didn’t really know.
“Aimee,” she mumbled.
“Amy?”
“No, Aimee. Ah-may.” She spelled it for him haughtily, as if he were a slow-witted child. “It’s French,” she concluded condescendingly.
“What the hell does it mean?” He looked up from his notebook finally, and Alex struggled to read his eyes, but they gave away nothing.
She lifted her chin a notch, in preparation. “It means ‘love.’”
James burst out laughing, his voice a deep, booming timbre that sounded odd to her in the depths of the forest. Not to mention humiliating. Heat flushed its way along her cheekbones.
“My mother was a French teacher!” she cried out in defense.
“Oh, that it so perfect,” he wheezed, trying to get a grasp on the chuckles that rumbled in the back of his throat. “Lovey. Suits you to a tee.”
Alex struggled to swallow the large lump that had formed in her throat, and drew a deep breath. “Just give me the damn ticket and leave me be!”
James, still grinning, slowly tore off the small wedge of paper, and dangled out in front of her. She grabbed it fiercely, hoping to give him a paper cut. Anything to take the grin off of his face, and dash the dancing light from his blue eyes. But he only raised a mocking pair of sandy eyebrows at her hostility.
“Aren’t you going to look at it?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll have enough to cover it,” she sneered. “You can just be on your way.”
“It’s only a warning, Mrs. Winters. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t creep around the woods harassing young female hikers... unnecessarily. But forest fires are a serious matter. A life-threatening matter.”
Disconcerted, Alex turned her back on him, and moved to straighten up the disorderly campsite. I’ll be damned if I’ll apologize, she thought to herself spitefully.
When she bent over to collect her hiking boots, the sudden draft of air reminded her that she had only pulled on the short-shorts a bit earlier. Bristling, she straightened her spine and turned around. He hadn’t looked away this time.
“Like I said, you can be on your way,” she repeated.
His mouth quirked and he gave her a mock salute. “Enjoy the mountains, Mrs. Winters.” Slinging his day pack across his broad shoulders, he turned to leave.
“Wait a minute!”
When he turned back to her, Alex pointed accusingly at the dirt-covered fire pit. “How am I to cook my supper?”
“You mean to tell me, with all that fancy gear I see, you neglected to purchase a gas stove?” At her stricken face, James shook his head in amusement and shrugged off his pack. “You can borrow mine, then. I’d really hate for you to starve out here,” he added teasingly. “You’d be bear bait in a day.”
Her defiance was somewhat deflated by the light-hearted timbre of his voice. James knelt to set up the tiny, propane burner, and patiently showed her how it worked. Then he was up and off at a brisk, ground-eating walk.
“Thank you!” she managed, finally remembering her manners. “How can I return the stove?” she called after him.
“You can drop it off at the District Headquarters off of Route 6 when you finish your trip.”
“No problem...” Her words trailed off as he kept moving.
Looking back over his shoulder then, he gave her a final grin. “Take care. Lovey.”
The bitterness in her stomach melted away completely in that single moment, leaving her only confused and unsure. As Alex watched his lean form disappear into the trees, she felt a wistful tug somewhere within her.
James Sheldon looked natural, like he truly belonged in these mountains. He was confidently male, and was mature, intelligent, and funny. He seemed happy with himself and with his life in the mountains. How different from her own sad state of affairs…
Her stomach rumbled fiercely, and Alex turned back to the little stove that was chugging out hearty waves of heat. She needed to boil water in order to partake of her dehydrated Fettuccine Primavera.
As she walked to the stream, she reflected on the golden waves of early evening light that penetrated the fluttering canopy and splattered a lovely pattern across the winding trail. The air was soft against her skin and pleasingly cool. It would be a beautiful evening, and with a little luck, the temperature would not drop below 50 degrees.
The lovely warble of a wood thrush beckoned her when she returned to the campsite with water, the only sound to break the solitude of the forest around her. Such a difference from the endless hustle and bustle of D.C.
Well, that was fine with her, she determined staunchly. There would be a lot of changes in her life. Decisions would be made. That’s why you came here, Alex. To make decisions, to get your life in order. Somehow, her upbeat thoughts did not ring true. She was lying to herself once again. The truth was: Alexandra Winters had merely run away.
Sighing, Alex plopped herself down on a log, and poured the cool stream water into the stainless steel cook pot. She would need to boil the water at length to destroy any contaminants. Even in the depths of the mountains, giardia or other microorganisms could taint the purity of the water. Just as the mess of her life was now marring the beauty of her mountain retreat.
Glancing around her, Alex realized the lingering presence of the young and handsome forester was now gone, and she felt the familiar stab of loneliness and regret. James had been friendly and decidedly harmless, and she had driven him swiftly away with her own miserable attitude.
She knew with certainty that he would have been cheering and refreshing company for her, had she invited him to stay awhile. You should have offered him supper at least, she scolded herself harshly.
Alex opened the package of primavera, and realized with dismay that the concoction resembled petrified vomit. James would have found the dinner offer terribly amusing, of that she was sure. His words echoed in her head. “Oh, that is so perfect. Lovey.” For the first time that year, Alexandra Winters laughed out loud.
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The lush, hay-scented ferns were gilded prettily with the waning rays of the sun. They lent a spicy, crisp scent to the breeze as his boots crunched upon them in an even rhythm. James had cut away from the trail in order to make up time, and he wound through the tall trees and smattering of undergrowth with ground-eating strides.
Although he had been pushing the limits of a walk for quite some time, his breathing was only slightly elevated. He was in excellent physical condition, and not from visits to the gym, but from hard work. Between his full-time forestry position and working on his family’s farm, he had time for little else.
Not that arduous work bothered him. There was nothing like breaking a hard sweat through a long day, and the enjoyment of a sound night’s sleep to follow. Jame
s belonged to the land, both the fields and the forests, and it was both his heritage and his first love.
But now he was late for supper. Not that his mother would really mind, for James doubted he could do any wrong in her sweet, brown eyes. But tonight was special to her, it was his brother’s birthday, and Diana Sheldon’s handiwork in the kitchen was always something to be admired. He hated to be late.
James’s thoughts drifted to the dark-haired young woman who had detained him. Actually, her hair had dried to a lighter shade than he had first assumed, it was streaked with gold-toned, chestnut highlights. Definitely not your standard brunette.
He shook his head briefly, disgusted that he was pondered the contrasting shades of a strange woman’s hair. And strange Miss Alexandra Aimee Winters had been. Correction, Mrs. Winters.
Guilty, he remembered spying on her from the ridge above her campsite. Like…for a long while. The water’s of the natural pond had run clear to the pebbly bottom in the brilliant afternoon sunlight, leaving nothing to his imagination. He knew the water was frigid, but she had seemed determined to wade right in wearing nothing but a lacy blue bra and matching panties.
He was surprised at her boldness. But her very surroundings gave evidence as to why her modesty was a bit lacking.
Great trees lined the ridge behind him, staunch evergreens and rustling hardwoods that had recently burst into the full, leafy bloom of spring.
Where the sheltering tree-line receded, breaking away into a lush meadow thick with swaying grasses and young goldenrod, a pond broke the landscape with crystalline waters. The pond itself was not of man’s creation, but was formed when a pair of beavers had decided to dam the spring-fed, mountain stream.
Deep within the heart of Susquehannock State Forest, the young woman had no reason to believe she would be watched by any pair of eyes other than a passing deer or squirrel.
Jamie chewed his lip for a moment, trying to decipher her story, where she could be from and why she might be here. It was early May, not exactly swimming season in northern Pennsylvania. This woman appeared to be completely alone. And smack in the very heart of a deep forest over 265,000 acres, spanning three counties, and not a lot of paved road.
Waiting For Eden (Eden Series) Page 1