“I remember when I first met you and Clark at the club,” Alan recalled. “You’ve always been viewed by everyone as the golden couple; a couple everyone else looked up to. Someone everyone wanted to be like. You always seemed so much in love that this whole thing has taken me by surprise.”
“You were right. I was in love with Clark, or at least with the man I thought he was. Not the man he really is,” Brook said bitterly. “The man I thought he was is either dead or never really existed. I don’t know which, and I don’t really care much at this point.”
“What about the gang who took you? What’s happening with them?” Alan asked.
“They’ve all been taken into custody, and they’re all turning on each other. The detective handling the case told me they’ll probably plead out. I might not even have to testify.”
“Good. You’ve been through enough already.” He cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Brook. There’s really nothing a person can say to someone who’s suffered the way you have. I wish I had some words of wisdom to offer you, but I don’t. So, I’ll just say my heart goes out to you, and leave it at that.”
“Thank you, Alan. I’m dealing with it, and it gets a bit easier as time passes." Brook gathered her things to leave. “But, that’s neither here nor there. Is there anything else I need to do while I’m here?”
“No, that should do it for now.” Alan rose from his chair and walked her to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
Outside, Brook leaned against the side of the building for a few minutes before walking to her car. It had been a mixed blessing opening up to Alan like she had. There was a catharsis, a release, but there was also sadness. And on top of it all, she missed Lance with an intensity that was like a physical malaise, creating a continuous ache throughout her entire body. She had never before experienced anything quite like it. The closest she had ever come to feeling this way was when she had lost baby Lacey Joelle, and her arms had hurt with the longing to cradle her child.
This physical manifestation of her emotions left her drained. She drove back to her hotel in almost a dreamlike state. She had thought talking to Alan would bury her in a swamp of horrific flashbacks from her captivity. Thankfully, it did not. Instead, she was flooded with memories of Lance. She wondered if he missed her as much as she missed him.
As she left her car with the valet, Brook forced her thoughts away from Lance and onto her upcoming trip to Kansas. In a few days, she would be flying into Wichita where her parents would meet her at the airport and drive her to their house in Newton. She looked forward to being in the safe and loving environment of her childhood home. The thought of hugging her parents filled her eyes with tears.
Brook spent the afternoon shopping for regular clothes, the kind of clothes she used to wear before she married Clark. Pretty, sensible, comfortable clothes. ‘Elegant’ wasn’t even on her list as a possibility. She wondered what she would do with all the chic expensive outfits she had taken from her marital home. She no longer had any desire to wear them.
Chapter 57
“Let’s get you out of this pen for a while,” Lance said to Gilbert, who watched him with hopeful eyes from the other side of the fence. She bounded out, kicked her rear feet high in the air, and tried to romp with her owner. But Lance was preoccupied. Gilbert gave up and strolled toward the house, looking around as she went.
“She’s not here.”
The words meant nothing to the goat and she wandered around the cabin peering in the windows. Soon she was back at Lance’s side.
“I don’t know if you miss her,” he said as he patted the goat on the neck, “but I sure do. I feel like half of me has been ripped away. You’ll have to be patient with me, girl. It might take me awhile to get back my stride.”
Gilbert nuzzled his pocket, looking for a treat, but Lance never noticed as he stared up at the sky above Mt.Hazel.
“I can’t believe I let her go, Gilbert.” He closed his eyes for a long moment. “Just drove her to town and let her get on that damn bus. I didn’t even try to stop her. I must have been out of my mind.”
Lance looked down into Gilbert’s uncomprehending gaze.
“Why am I telling you? You’re a goat.”
Lance took a deep breath and turned to his chores with heaviness in his soul while Gilbert followed him hoping only for a treat.
Chapter 58
Brook spent two weeks with her parents. While in Kansas, she made a trip to the pleasant little cemetery and poured her heart out to Lacey Joelle. Perhaps it was only in her mind, but she felt a connection to the spirit of her daughter, a link that brought comfort now rather than grief. The wounds of her loss would never heal completely; they would never go away, but she could think now of her baby without plunging immediately into the depths of despair.
Being with her family brought comfort as well. She decided to spare them the details of Clark’s involvement in her abduction, citing detachment and changes of heart as the reasons her marriage failed. If she told them everything, her father and mother would most certainly go to the police. They wouldn't be able to understand that this way was the best way.
Brook knew what they did not: Clark’s guilt would eat at him; he was a shell of his former self now. She didn't know how long his humble attitude would last. Clark had a way of springing back.
Brook did, however, tell her parents about Lance. Not everything, of course. But enough that they suspected her true feelings for the man. Enough that her parents were grateful to him for saving their daughter’s life. Enough that they wanted to meet him and thank him in person. She discouraged this line of thinking, protecting his privacy.
While Brook was ensconced in the protective arms of her family, she used the days to sort out all that had happened to her, and to ruminate on her feelings for Lance. From this perspective, and distance, she could question their affair. Was it really love they felt for each other? Love she felt for him? Or was it an illusion, the result of unusual circumstances that created a feeling that simply wasn’t real? She and Lance hadn’t had the luxury of a traditional courtship. They were forced together by a bizarre set of events. She had been in desperate need of tenderness. And Lance? Well, he'd been alone for a while and he was, after all, a man. So, was their bond merely situational? Was she wrong about her feelings for him?
Lance…even thinking his name made her go soft inside. And what about him? Had he, by now, cleared his head of her and settled happily back into his solitary life? She missed him. Instead of getting better over time, she found herself yearning for him more than ever. She tortured herself with memories of their Christmas together, his smiling face over the dinner table, the scent of his skin, her cheek against the soft hair of his chest, the touch of his hands. Dancing with him. Making love with him.
When she bid her parents goodbye, Brook held them close in a long farewell embrace. As wonderful as it had felt to see them again, there was still an ache in her heart. She boarded the plane and settled into her seat with a sigh. There would be no one to meet her plane in Denver. In fact, she wondered to what, exactly, she was returning. Or for.
Back in the city, Brook wandered like a lost soul through her days. Out of necessity, the criminal case and her divorce action shared center stage for a while, each creating its own special turmoil. Painful meetings with the district attorney, the difficult decision not to go to trial, to accept their guilty pleas and be done with it. Dull phone calls from Clark, his words leaving her empty, disinterested.
She moved in a daze through obligatory shopping trips, the plush but featureless hotel room, a temporary home at best. Lunching with friends who were not really her friends, those women whose phony interest in her wellbeing barely disguised their sick curiosity about her captivity and divorce. Long nights alone in a bed too big for one person.
Brook was going back to the mountain. She knew it. She had no direction for her life in Denver, and wanted none. She wanted Lance. Two months had passed and her
longing for him had only grown. She hoped he felt the same.
Chapter 59
The little book of poems rested in Lance’s hands. He had read it a hundred times, lingered over the precious words, traced the writing with his fingertips. If he didn’t stop, he’d wear the book out, and he didn’t want that. Forcing himself to put it aside, he got to his feet and closed the shutters against the night.
He was trying to move forward in life, digging deep for the strength he needed. But, he missed Brook's company when he was in his workroom, the sight of her head bent over her journal, her smile at the dinner table, and the conversations they’d had while working together in the kitchen. And he missed her warm body pressed against his in the dark of night, her sweet lips, her tender sighs, her soft words of love. He groaned in agony. My Brooklyn!
Every space in his home held a memory of her. There was no escape from the longing, which came especially strong at night. He wondered how long he would yearn for her. He thought perhaps forever.
Chapter 60
Brook’s excitement grew as the bus finally pulled into Haylieville. She stared out the windows and drank in the sights of the small town. Wheezing to a stop, the bus rocked slightly before the driver locked the brakes and called out the name of the stop. Brook clutched the handle of her bag in a tight grip.
She moved down the narrow stairs and carried her valise into the cafe that served as Haylieville’s bus station. She had determined that one way or another she would find a ride to the path that led to Lance’s cabin, even if it meant prevailing upon Denise or Emily at The Outpost. Or a complete stranger, for that matter. She'd walk if she had to. She didn’t care. She had to see him, had to know. Did he love her as much as she did him?
Just inside the door, she stopped. At the counter, his backpack on the floor leaning against his leg, stood Lance. The sight of his familiar stance caused a soft pang in her chest. He was not looking at her; he had his eyes on the man who was handing him a ticket.
“Lance,” Brook called softly. Lance froze, hand reaching for the bus pass. Slowly, he turned his gaze to her and hope lit his features.
“Brooklyn?” In three long steps, he crossed the distance between them, took her face tenderly in his hands, and searched her eyes. She dropped her bag to the floor as a sob worked its way up from the pit of her stomach.
“Lance.” She choked around the unexpected tears. He pulled her to him, lifting her feet from the floor, and buried his face in her neck. She melted into his arms.
“Brooklyn,” he murmured, his melodic voice a balm washing over her. “You’re here!”
They embraced, clinging to each other as if they had been reunited after years instead of mere months. Heads turned to watch them, but they didn’t notice. They had eyes only for each other. The rest of the world had ceased to exist for this space of time.
“I was just buying a ticket to Denver,” Lance said, his mouth warm against her ear. “I was coming to bring you home.” His voice caught in his throat. Brook turned her head and their lips met. In that moment, all doubt fled, all questions were answered. The world, which had felt out of kilter and wrong, suddenly righted itself.
They were mostly silent on the drive up the mountain, each struck by the wonder of being together again. Brook sat close to Lance, resting her hand lovingly on his leg as he drove. He kept his arm over her shoulders, holding her snug to his side.
Finally, he pulled Old Reliable through the trees and into her hiding place. He walked around and helped Brook down from the truck, holding her to him for a long moment. She sought his lips with her own and they melded as if designed to fit together perfectly. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, and Brook thought she might actually swoon.
They could hardly keep their hands from each other as they trekked back to the cabin. The summer sun filtered down through the trees, dappling their path with moving shadows. Brook took a cleansing breath of the mountain air, flinging her arms wide, as if to embrace the entire mountainside. Lance's eyes twinkled as he gazed down at her. He encircled her waist and they shared a deep kiss under the boughs as a breeze rustled through the aspen trees. Brook let fall the bag she was carrying and gave herself over to the moment. The force of their passion nearly drove them to their knees on the forest floor as they clung to each other.
“Brooklyn, Brooklyn,” Lance murmured into her neck, running his lips over her skin. A soft moan escaped her lips as she melted under his touch. A wild mix of feelings coursed through her; joy, excitement, relief, love, and physical yearning.
Reluctantly, they parted and continued on their way. When the cabin came into view, Brook’s eyes filled with tears. Slowly, she placed her bag on the ground at her feet.
“Home,” she whispered, overcome with emotion. She had never seen a sweeter sight.
Lance shrugged off his pack. He lifted her into his arms, and carried her inside. So different from the first time. This time, she was strong and healthy. This time, she was there of her own free will. He lowered her to her feet just inside the doorway and she looked around, drinking in the welcoming comfort of her sanctuary. How she had missed it! And how she had missed Lance, her lover. He stepped out to retrieve their parcels as she wandered through the cabin. Lance returned to find her walking around, touching this and that as if to assure herself she was really here. She noted her book of poems on the mantle and put her hand to her lips.
“Oh, Lance,” she said as she turned. Then he was beside her, clutching her to his chest. Clasping each other, they collapsed on the daybed. The urgency of their lovemaking filled the room with soft groans and tender sighs. After their release, they did not part. Lance stayed inside her until the warm press of their flesh drove them to passion’s heights once again.
When the second storm of fiery ardor had passed, they held each other and talked; all the obstacles to a future together were gone.
“I missed you, Brooklyn. I missed you so much I thought at times my heart would simply stop beating and I would curl up and die.” They were lying on their sides, facing each other. He reached out and traced the side of her face with his fingertips.
“I felt the same way, Lance. It was so hard! At night especially. The hours would pass and I would lie there in agony; longing for you. If I had given in to the torment of it, I would have been here much sooner.” Her eyes were misty.
“Would that have really been so bad?” he asked her.
“No, not bad at all. But, I had things to take care of,” she replied. “You haven’t even asked me about my marriage.”
“That’s because I might not want to hear what you say. And maybe I don’t even care, just as long as you’re here with me now. You didn’t talk about it on the way here, so I thought maybe you didn’t want to tell me. You know, I’m sorry for your husband, but I love you. I love you with everything that’s in me and I’ll take you no matter what. Married or single. For the night, or for a lifetime. I hope it’s forever, but I won’t turn anything down. Whatever you’re willing to give me, Brooklyn.” His voice moved her as it had from the beginning. She smiled at him.
“I’m free, Lance. We’re free to be together. I’ll tell you all the details later. But not now, I don’t want to spoil this moment. It is enough for now, isn’t it?” She caressed his face, her heart swelling with love and tenderness.
“It’s enough for me.” Their mouths met in a long kiss.
Eventually, they roused and dressed. Brook accompanied him outside where the usual chores awaited.
“Gilbert’s a mama!” Brook exclaimed as they approached the pen. Gilbert’s head shot up at the sound of Brook’s voice and she did a couple of turns near the gate. When Lance freed her from the enclosure, she rushed toward Brook and nuzzled her hands. As she reared up on her hind legs for a hug, Lance stepped in.
“Whoa!” He took the hug instead. “Calm down, gal. We don’t want to knock Brooklyn off her feet!”
“You already did that.” Brook smiled at him and reac
hed over to pat Gilbert’s side. The kid wandered out of the pen and stood near her mother, looking up at Brook with curious eyes.
“Oh, how cute!” Brook leaned down to pet the small goat, but it sidled away from her. “I guess she’ll have to get used to me.”
“Well, Gilbert’s glad you’re back,” Lance announced. “She looked for you, you know. At first.”
“She did?”
“So did I, Brooklyn. Even though I knew it was impossible, that I wouldn’t see you. That you weren’t here.” He ducked his head.
Brook squeezed his hand before turning away. She separated from the group and meandered around the homestead as Lance tended to the chores. The feeling of being home intensified with every step.
“How beautiful it is here,” she said. I never want to leave again.
Later that evening, after darkness had fallen and after their meal was finished, Brook sat in her old chair and Lance sat in his. They caught up on all that had happened during their time apart. The radio cooperated, and soft music played in the background. Night sounds drifted in on a sweet clean breeze through the open windows.
In bed that night they both felt right again, as if they had just returned safely from a long, dark, and dangerous journey.
Chapter 61
Brook returned to Denver twice; once to finalize her divorce and once for Jase’s sentencing. As for the dissolution of her marriage, Clark had agreed to all her requests and the papers were signed, requiring only the judge’s approval. She felt nothing during the divorce proceeding and was merely relieved when it was over.
Jase’s sentencing was another matter entirely. While she dreaded the thought of facing her tormenters again, she was determined to have her voice heard. Lance stood by her side as she read her statement to the court. It was a struggle for both of them. For Brook, it meant reliving the horrors she had endured. For Lance, it meant watching his beloved assaulted by unbearable memories and the painful opening of old wounds. It meant remembering how he found her, nearly naked and battered in the forest. And it meant resisting the urge to pummel to death the defendant, sitting smug and unrepentant next to his attorney. Lance kept a hard eye on Jase, but Jase refused to look at him.
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