He didn’t bother commenting as he turned her around and pushed her back inside. They hurried down the hall and into the bar, which was strangely quiet. When the sheriff spied them, he rushed over.
“Where’s Jake?”
“They took him!” Cheyenne was in tears as she sank onto a nearby chair. Why had she not put her foot down? Why had Jake taken such a chance?
The sheriff was on the phone, his deputy on another one. When he finished, he finally spoke to her. “I called the ferry port and they’ll make sure those two don’t get on the ferry.”
The deputy piped up. “McNally is down at the marina and he’s got some others watching the boat slips.”
Cam was righting the table and chairs and one of the waitresses was sweeping up broken glass and beer bottles. The sheriff went back to questioning the few men still lined up against the wall. No one seemed too concerned that Jake was missing.
“We have to do something!” she wailed to no one in particular and everyone in general.
“Nobody will get him off the island without our knowing it,” the sheriff told her. “In fact, there’s not much chance they can hide him without our finding out pretty damn quick.”
“How can you be so casual? What if they hurt him?”
“Chances are,” Cam told her, “they took him for ransom so they’re not about to hurt him.”
“Well that makes me feel so much better.” Cheyenne stormed past him toward the front door.
“Where are you going? Jake asked me to keep an eye on you if things went sideways.”
She spun around, hands on hips. “You are not my keeper. Jake is not my keeper. If none of you,” she swung her arm wide to encompass the entire room, “are going to look for him, I will do it myself.” Her grand exit was spoiled as she turned and slammed into a body rushing into the bar.
“Sheriff, there’s a ruckus down at the marina,” Lindsay shouted as she threw her arms out to steady Cheyenne. “Come on.” She grabbed Cheyenne’s hand and they ran out of the bar. When Cheyenne headed toward the rickshaw, Lindsay tugged her the opposite way. “It’s quicker to run.”
Cheyenne felt she was in good shape but Lindsay quickly outdistanced her, as did the sheriff, deputy and Cam. She followed as fast as she could, weaving through pedestrians. They veered into the marina and down the docks to the left, finally coming to a halt by a slip housing a speed boat. If she hadn’t been in fear for Jake’s life, the scene that met them might have been funny.
One of the men in black was treading water off the end of the boat. Johnny Blaine held the shorter one by the ankles upside-down over the side of the boat, periodically dunking him under and pulling him back up sputtering. Jake lay in an unconscious heap on the dock. She rushed to his side while Cam and the deputy fished one man out of the water and the sheriff tried to convince Johnny to release the man he held.
“They were taking Jake away,” Johnny stated calmly as he dunked the man again. “Said Jake was drunk and they were taking him back to the mainland. He don’t belong on the mainland.” Johnny looked at Cheyenne. “I know he don’t drink like I do and I’m real sorry, Miss, for the trouble I caused you that other time.” He seemed to have forgotten about the man he was holding under until his jerking and splashing caught his attention. This time, he yanked him up and dropped him in a heap on the deck of the boat. The sheriff had to wait until he quit coughing up water before he could handcuff him and get him onto the dock.
Jake moaned and Cheyenne quickly turned back to him. A bright purple bruise was already forming on his chin and when he opened his eyes, they didn’t appear quite focused.
“Are you all right?”
“Hell, no.” He tried to sit up and groaned. Cheyenne scooted around so she could cradle his head in her lap. She brushed the hair out of his eyes with one hand as the other lay across his chest.
In the hurry to get to the marina, no one had bothered with a vehicle, so it was some minutes later when the deputy was dispatched for the police car and Lindsay went back for her bike. The sheriff told Cheyenne to take care of Jake and he would call when he figured out what the two men were after. Lindsay helped Cheyenne get Jake into the rickshaw.
“We need to take you to Dr. Stephens,” she said as he groaned upon sitting.
“Just get me back to the jeep and home,” he replied, his voice so weak and low she had a hard time hearing. He limply lifted both hands, wiggling his fingers. “See, they still work.”
At that point, Cheyenne completely lost it. “You idiot. You certifiable numbskull!” She stood by the rickshaw and ranted, uncaring of the crowd gathering as drenched men were hauled off in handcuffs, the blue and red lights of the sheriff’s car blinking in the growing darkness.
“Do you think that’s all I care about? I swear, I told you—”
He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her against the side of the rickshaw. His other hand cupped the back of her neck and his mouth slammed against hers, effectively interrupting her tirade. He only softened the kiss when she quit struggling, and he didn’t let her go until cheering erupted.
“Get in,” he said softly.
Cheeks hot with embarrassment as the crowd applauded, she squeezed in beside him and Lindsay pedaled them back to the Gold Pelican. Jake held his side as he climbed down and Cheyenne simply shook her head.
“Give me the keys,” she said and was surprised when he complied without complaint. She helped him into the jeep and hurried around to the other side. It had been years since she’d driven a stick shift and he snorted when she popped the clutch and stalled. And then he was cradling her against his chest as huge sobs raked her. As strong as she had always thought herself, she was a complete mess when it came to him.
“I was so frightened,” she sobbed, then hiccupped.
“It’s all right, Cat. Everything is all right.” He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.
“Nothing is all right,” she blubbered. “You’ve been hurt twice since I’ve been here. People are trying to kidnap you. You said yourself you hadn’t had any trouble before I came. It’s all my fault.”
Jake stiffened, not sure how to respond. Eventually someone would have recognized him and tried to make a fast buck. He didn’t blame her for that. What was she saying; that she didn’t want to be with him?
She pushed away and inadvertently hit his ribs. He couldn’t stifle the groan.
“Oh, here you are hurt and I’m carrying on like it was me.” She looked him over, caressing his cheek with her palm.
“Nothing is broken. Let’s just go home.”
This time he kept his mouth shut when she popped the clutch and they started to jerk along the street.
The bumping along the dirt road jarred him awake as Cheyenne pulled up beside the cottage. He tried to get out but his legs felt like lead. When she rushed over to his side, he let her help him into the house. His vision wavered and his legs gave out as they approached the bed. If it had been any further away, he would have ended up on the floor. As it was, Cheyenne had to lift his legs onto the bed and remove his shoes.
“You should have let us take you to the doctor,” she muttered, pushing to get him centered. “Why do you have to be so stubborn about everything?”
As before, he instinctively knew she was talking about more than the recent incident, but his brain couldn’t process a coherent thought.
“Stay with me,” he groped for her hand but she faded from view as darkness crept over him.
His dreams were intense; waves cresting over the side of a boat to which he clung, adrift on a raging sea. Everywhere he looked, dark water heaved beneath him and black clouds roiled above him. Suddenly vibrant colors flashed across the sinister sky and the voice of an angel beckoned him. Her voice was soothing, like music drifting on a breeze and he quit fighting the inevitable and sank into oblivion beneath the waves.
When Jake woke, morning sun streamed through the open window. Whatever those two had done to him, besides hittin
g him on the jaw, had left him with a blinding headache and he closed his eyes against the light. Snippets of a dream to which he couldn’t recall details gave him an uneasy feeling, as though something were wrong but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Panicking, he swung his feet off the bed and stood, swaying and grabbing the headboard.
And then he heard it, her voice from the other room. He breathed a sigh of relief to know she was still there. He stumbled to the bathroom for aspirin, splashed water on his face and walked into the living room as she was closing the front door.
“Coming…or going?” he asked and watched as she spun around in surprise. A guilty look quickly crossed her features and then was gone. He suddenly remembered his dream and the panic he had felt knowing she wasn’t with him. Had his dream been a portent of the future?
Don’t be an ass and push her, he told himself.
“Sorry.” He brushed his hands through his hair. “Abominable headache.”
“You should have gone…” she broke off. “Never mind. Come have some breakfast.”
She turned to the small kitchen and he watched as she took a sheet of biscuits out of the oven. Piling them on a plate, she set them on the table with butter, poured two cups of coffee and joined him.
His phone rang and, seeing it was the sheriff, he put it on speaker.
“How you feeling, kid?”
“I’ve had better days, Sheriff. Please tell me you still have those two in custody.”
“Actually, I don’t, the Seattle police do.” The sheriff laughed. “Seems they were ex-paparazzi who decided kidnapping could be more lucrative than taking photos. Once I posted mug shots, I got a call from LA saying they were wanted down there for attempting the same thing. The Seattle police will see that they get to LA.”
“Attempting?” Jake asked.
“Yeah. It didn’t work any better in LA than it did here, but they got away down there before the police could nab them.”
“Well, that’s kudos to you then.”
“Reckon so,” the sheriff said. “Later.”
Jake punched disconnect and closed his eyes with a sigh. At least that was over.
“How do you feel?” Cheyenne asked, scrutinizing his face. She reached over to lightly touch the bruise on his jaw he had seen in the mirror.
“Like I got hit by a truck.”
She pursed her lips and didn’t respond.
“You’re not going to say I told you so?”
“Apparently I don’t need to.” She stuck her tongue out at him and it made him laugh, which in turn made his head worse. He groaned.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” She shook her head.
“Then come back to bed with me.” Not giving her time to protest, he took her hand and led her to the bedroom. He pulled her down with him and stretched out, content to simply hold her. She laid her head on his chest and draped a leg over his, giving a huge sigh.
“What happens the next time, Jake?” she asked quietly.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m just a flash in the pan. By next week, some other celebrity will cause a ruckus and people will forget all about me. We can go back to our quiet existence.”
He felt her stiffen and silently cursed. Even though neither had said the words, a clock ticked loudly in the small haven they had created. He knew what needed to be said.
“Stay with me, Cat.” He caressed her back.
She lifted her head and he sealed her lips with his before she could say a word. He poured all his passion and love into the kiss and for a moment she didn’t respond. When she did, it wasn’t what he expected.
She tore her mouth from his, pushing against him to quickly roll off the bed.
“It’s unfair of you to ask me that.” Her words were angry; her stance stiff.
“Why; because you have to get back to Chicago? What do you owe my uncle?” He slid from the bed to stand directly in front of her.
“He gave me a job to do; you knew that from the beginning.”
“Ah, yes. Bring the wayward nephew home, no matter what it takes.”
The crack of her hand against his cheek echoed in the small room. The sting of it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the hurt he saw in her gaze.
“Cat.” He held out a hand but she stepped back against the wall, her eyes full of regret, which only made him feel worse.
“Don’t call me that. Get out.”
In other circumstances he might have laughed, considering the cottage was his. But in his frustration he had lashed out and implied something he knew was wrong. Now, the best thing he could do was give her space to calm down, then they could talk. He slipped on his shoes and walked out the door.
He walked clear to the Ranger station, only to have Trevor tell him he was a fool and he’d better get things straightened out before it was too late.
Everything bounced and reverberated around in his brain all the way back to the cottage. He loved Cheyenne to distraction but had treated her poorly. This whole thing didn’t really have to do with her at all, she was simply the messenger. His anger and aggravation should be directed solely at his uncle and it was up to Jake to make it right, not Cheyenne. He broke into a trot, anxious now to get back and tell her how much he loved her, that he would do whatever was necessary to earn her love. He could only pray she would forgive him.
“Cheyenne?” he called the moment he opened the door. Silence greeted him and he knew in a heartbeat that he was too late.
Chapter 18
Chicago, Illinois
Cheyenne stared at her computer screen, the screensaver showing myriad shades of red and orange across the sky; the setting sun over the bay only a sliver on the horizon. It was a photo she had taken at the cottage on Lockabee Island. Most days she wondered why she kept punishing herself with it.
It had been three weeks since her return. Her report to Sebastian Donovan had been short and curt. “He’s on Lockabee Island off the coast of Washington. He doesn’t want to come home.” She had seen the disappointment on the man’s face before he could hide it. There wasn’t much the senior Donovan could hide these days. He was bedridden with a twenty-four hour nurse. He never left his chambers in the mansion and didn’t deal with the business aspects of the Academy at all. Everyone on the staff, including her, knew it was only a matter of time before the doors would close and they would be out of jobs.
It was more personal for her, however. She carried tremendous guilt for not having told Jake that his uncle was ill. Her stubborn pride and so called professionalism had caused her to do what she thought was right. Since her return, she had reached for the phone countless times, yet never completed the call.
And therein lay her heartbreak. She knew if she heard his voice, she would completely come apart. As it was she wasn’t sleeping. She would sit curled up on her couch, wrapped in Jake’s old bass tee-shirt which she had stolen that last day, scrolling through photos of the town, the people, but especially of Jake. She paused at a photo of Lindsay. When Cheyenne had called that last day, Lindsay had gotten to the cottage almost before Cheyenne finished packing. She made the girl swear not to tell anyone where she had gone, but Cheyenne held little hope that she would keep that promise. After all, it was Lockabee. She made it just in time for the ferry and upon reaching the mainland reclaimed her car and drove clear to Seattle before stopping.
She kept wondering why she had left in anger instead of waiting for him to return. Why hadn’t she told him she loved him and would stay if he simply went to Chicago to see his uncle?
But she knew it couldn’t be an “I’ll do this if you do that” scenario. Yet because of her commitment to his uncle, she hadn’t been able to think of any other way out of her predicament.
She stood and walked to the window overlooking the back garden. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floors and her silk suit rustled softly against her hips. She had thought by getting back to her job and donning the persona of Miss Tucker, she could forget. Instead, it only made her long
for capris and flip-flops, sunglasses and her mermaid ball cap.
A commotion outside her office had her looking toward the door as it swung open, a yelp preceding the appearance of the receptionist on the heels of a dog trailing a leash.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Tucker. Mr. Donovan told me to bring him back to you but he got away from me.”
The puppy, which she realized was her favorite from Trevor’s litter, had skidded to a halt in front of Cheyenne and she squatted down to pet him. “What a sweetheart you are.” She buried her face in the dog’s soft fur, remembering. “Melissa, how on earth would Mr. Donovan have gotten this dog?”
“Perhaps you’re thinking of the wrong Mr. Donovan.” The masculine voice, seductively soft, caused her head to jerk up, her gaze colliding with dark chocolate eyes.
She practically fell off her high heels. Gathering the puppy in her arms, she slowly stood, her gaze never leaving his.
“I call him Fish Bait,” he said.
“What a horrid name.”
He took a step toward her. “Not when I want to lure a mermaid.”
Her heart pounded at his words and she practically dropped the wiggling puppy. She wobbled a step to keep her balance.
“Nice shoes,” he said, glancing down at her new red strappy heels.
“Thank you for buying them for me.”
“I didn’t…” he started with a frown, then burst out laughing. “God, I’ve missed your smart mouth, Miss Tucker.”
Suddenly she was engulfed in his embrace. He was warm as the summer sun and he smelled like the ocean breeze. He pulled the puppy from her grasp, hooking it under one arm as the other came around her and his mouth descended to hers. His kiss was lightning and shooting stars and bottle rockets. She wrapped her arms around his neck and simply held on, letting him carry her away. She had no idea where the kiss might have led if not for wet seeping through her skirt and running down her leg.
“Oh, no,” she moaned as Jake released her and set the puppy on the floor.
Prelude and Promises Page 19