by Morris, T M
Lucy sat on the edge of her bed pulling on her socks. How long was she going to be able to avoid Devon by holing up in her room? She had done all she could to lengthen her morning routine. She had no choice but to stiffen her spine and face the man. She drew in a deep breath and walked out of the bedroom.
To her surprise he wasn’t in the living room or kitchen. Nor was he in the loft. He wasn’t on the deck. Should she check his bedroom? She found his room to be a disaster area but he wasn’t there either. Picking up her clothes from the detritus on the floor she wondered where he could have gone.
While she pondered this question she went to refill her coffee mug and found the note he had left for her. It read:
‘Luce, I’ve decided to walk down to the main road and check it out. If the roads appear to be drivable, I think we ought to go back home. I will be back as soon as I can. Devon’.
She sipped her coffee and prepared a light breakfast of toast and juice, even though she wasn’t in the very least hungry. What should she do while Devon was gone?
First, she would get the fire going again. It was amazing how much warmer the house felt with the fire burning. Then she would clean up and pack her things. The roads had to be passable by now. When she was done she would review the files they had brought with them and the file they were working on, the one that brought them here, anything to keep her mind from thinking about what she had done.
Before she realized it she had worked half the day and Devon had not yet returned. Lucy went over to the window. Where could he have gone for so long? She prowled around the room. The cabin was too lonesome when you were there alone.
Lucy’s instinct told her Devon’s sister, Claire, was not coming up to the cabin alone. If Claire was anything like her, that is. Devon was the reason Lucy enjoyed the cabin so much in the first place. She didn’t like being here alone. It was too quiet. She turned on the CD player and listened to the music as she continued to pace around the room.
She walked out onto the deck and paced around its perimeter looking for Devon. She was reminded by the scent of the air of the way her grandmother’s freezer chest on the back porch smelled when it needed to be defrosted. But there was no sign of him and she was beginning to worry. He hadn’t taken the truck. Maybe she should go looking for him. Why didn’t he leave more of a note? The temperature was still well below freezing. The ice couldn’t have melted much, if at all. What if Devon had fallen and was lying injured somewhere? He was probably the only one out and no one would find him. She was the only one who knew he was out there. She had to go looking for him. She couldn’t let him freeze to death on the side of the road somewhere because he was hurt and needed help. She had to find him. She may be his only hope.
She hurried into the house to find herself a coat, a knit hat, a scarf and some gloves. Then she was off down the road following his footsteps. She would find him as long as she had his footprints to follow. She had to find him before he froze to death. She could not live without him. Even if she couldn’t love him openly, she would do so in secret. But if he were dead she wouldn’t even have that small luxury. She prayed she would find him in time.
The shadows were lengthening. Lucy had no idea how long she had been slipping and sliding down the road. She’d fallen twice and for all her effort she still hadn’t made it down to the main road. How could she have forgotten her watch? For that matter, where was her cell phone? Why hadn’t she thought to call him first before flying out to search for him?
She stopped and looked around. The trees were beautiful the way they were decorated in ice. She saw where Devon had moved a large tree limb out of the road. Where could he have gone? She should have met him by now. The main road was no more than a mile and a half or two from the cabin. For a moment she hesitated, what should she do? If she kept walking toward town she should run into him before she got to the main road. Maybe.
Why was she out here anyway? She was freezing. Besides, Devon wouldn’t even appreciate her efforts. He would yell at her for not staying in the cabin. She was going to turn around and go back home. It was now quite obvious to her leaving before Saturday would be a miracle indeed. Even if the main roads were clear the road from the house to the main road was still covered with a thick layer of ice. She turned around and began to struggle inch by inch back up the hill to the cabin; going down had been so much easier.
By the time she had slipped and slid more than half way back to the cabin it was dark. In the country, the night seemed darker than the night in the city. Lucy couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face. There wasn’t even the benefit of the moon shining due to the thick cloud cover. Why hadn’t she brought a flashlight?
She knew the answer—she had no intention of being out this late when she left the cabin. Speaking of Devon—why had she not come across him? She kept trudging in the direction of the cabin.
“Whoa!” Lucy hollered as she tripped over a tree root on the side of the road where she had been picking her way toward home. She fell, cracking her head hard against a tree trunk. As she lost consciousness she thought, now, how am I going to find him?
“Lucy? Lucy?” Devon made tentative dabs at the wound on her temple. He was so relieved to have found her, but now he needed her to wake up. “Lucy, honey, are you in there?”
“Devon…I have to find…he’s…been gone…too...long.” Lucy mumbled.
“Okay, Lucy, you found me, honey. Wake up, sweetheart.” Devon continued to try to clean the dried blood from the massive waves of dark brown hair framing her face. His stomach was still in knots from the agony he felt when he had arrived back at the cabin right before dark to find Lucy gone. There wasn’t a note or anything. Just her footprints mingled with his down the side of the road.
He continued to clean Lucy’s wound while he reflected on how he felt coming up the path through the woods. It was a beautiful day, but below freezing and to save time he didn’t go back by the road. Now he wished he had. If he had taken the road he would have met up with her and he could have prevented this nasty bump and scrape on her pretty little face.
When Lucy had not yet returned an hour after dark he was frantic. He grabbed a flashlight and ran, slipping and sliding, back down the road until he came upon her not more the three hundred yards from the cabin. She was lying on the side of the road with her head up against a tree trunk. Thank God she was still breathing. He scooped her up and carried her back to the cabin. He slipped a few times but he did not fall and he did not drop her. For that, he was thankful.
Now, here he was with a warm wet cloth dabbing Lucy’s semi-conscious brow wishing she would open her beautiful green eyes and plunge into a rage at him for worrying her.
“Devon should be back by now. He’s been gone too long.” Lucy muttered.
“It’s okay, Luce. I’m right here. I’m all right. Now all you need to do is relax and let me clean you up. You managed to get yourself a nice big bump on your head.”
“Devon?” Lucy’s eyes flew open and she pulled him to her. “I was so worried. I thought you were out there somewhere lying in the ditch with a broken ankle or something. I couldn’t find you. I was so scared. I didn’t know what I was going to do without you.”
“Shh. It’s okay, honey.” Devon soothed pulling away from her.
“Ouch! My head.” Lucy touched her temple and winced. “What happened?”
“I reckon you hit your head on the tree trunk when you fell.”
“I-I do remember falling. It's very dark out there without the moon.”
“I guessed as much. What were you doing out there?”
“I was looking for you.”
“Let me see your eyes. You may have a concussion.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went down the road to the main road. I wanted to see if we could get out of here. But I came back up through the woods. Now I wish I had come back up the road.”
“So how does the main road look?”
“It’s not as clear
as I had hoped.”
“We’re not leaving tonight, then, are we?”
“Are you anxious to leave?”
“I don’t know. You?”
“I don’t know either. But I do know you need to rest and I need to put some space between us before I go and fire you.”
“Fire me?” Lucy lurched up and in the same instant slumped back against the cushions; the pain in her head was overwhelming. She sat up again—taking care to move as slowly as she could.
“I don’t want to fire you—we work well together. But if you don’t stop looking so damn desirable, I’m going to have to fire you. I can’t pretend I don’t want you as my lover—because I do, but I know you have a problem with me being your boss and all.”
“What makes you think firing me will help the situation?” Lucy jumped up and again wished she hadn't. She kept pushing herself even when the pain in her head was overwhelming her. She became dizzy near to the point of fainting.
Devon snatched her up into his arms and carried her to her bed. He laid her down and covered her with the blankets. “Be still, Lucy. I’ll be right back.”
He returned a few minutes later carrying a tray of wonderfully-smelling chicken soup and green tea. “Here, I imagine you haven’t eaten anything today, have you?”
“Other than toast this morning? No. I must have forgotten. Thank you.” She took the tray from him and rested it on her lap.
“I’m going to be out here, working, if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
“Just holler.”
“I will.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, get out of here before I quit.”
Devon chuckled and turned to leave. Lucy sipped the soup and tea while she mulled over what Devon had said. Would he fire her if he must to have a relationship with her? Was he joking or was he serious? Even though she knew she loved him she was certain she didn’t want to be unemployed again. She remembered deciding earlier in the day quitting was her one viable option. She didn’t know what to do.
She didn’t want to think about all of it right now. Her head hurt. She set the tray of empty dishes on the floor beside the bed. She turned out the bedside lamp. Then she slid farther down the pillows and pulled the covers up to her chin. She would rest.
Or at least she thought she would rest. Lucy tossed and turned. Every time she started to doze off visions of Devon making love with her filled her brain and she would wake with a start. Why was she torturing herself? She knew it was going to be almost impossible to work with Devon in the future. Out of town trips like this one were not going to happen again. There was too much temptation away from home. At home, however, Lucy could not imagine the temptation would be any less.
Lucy rebuked herself for letting her guard down. She should have stopped their lovemaking last night, when he asked her if they should continue. She knew she couldn’t allow herself to get in this same situation with Devon again. She was in danger of losing both her heart and her mind.
The door to her bedroom opened. Lucy kept her breathing as even as possible as she pretended to sleep. Devon brushed her raven hair from her face and kissed her forehead. He whispered against her temple. “What am I going to do with you, darlin’?” Then he picked up the tray from the floor and left the room closing the door behind him.
Devon might as well have been a mindless robot the way he washed the dishes. His mind was elsewhere. What in the world was he going to do about her? She was like an itch in the middle of his back he couldn’t quite reach to scratch. He went over to the computer to work on the project. He couldn’t concentrate. He put another log on the fire. For the longest time he stood staring into the fire. All he knew was he loved Lucy and somehow he would find a way to marry her. He had to—he would never be able to live without her.
Chapter Ten
Devon brushed the hair from Lucy’s forehead. “Wake up Sleeping Beauty,” he urged.
“Hmm?”
“Lucy, honey. Come on, sweetheart. Wake up.”
“What time is it?” Lucy whispered as the pain in her head replaced her dreamless sleep.
Devon stroked her hair. “It’s almost noon. I was beginning to worry about you. You have been sleeping for over thirty- six hours. How is your head?”
“I’m sure I look much better than I feel.” She winced as she gingerly probed her temple. “Thirty-six hours? You mean it’s Friday?”
“Yeah. Let me look at you.” Devon examined the large bump on her temple and smoothed anti-bacterial cream with gentle fingers into the scrape. “You must feel pretty lousy because, honey, you look like you lost the fight. Tree one, Lucy zero.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. Tree one, Lucy zero.” She grumbled, “You know it’s your fault, don’t you?”
“My fault?” Devon was incredulous.
“Yes. Your fault. If you hadn’t run out of here looking for an escape, I wouldn’t have had to go looking for you when you didn’t come back.”
“I wasn’t looking for an escape. I was trying to see if we could get back home before we went crazy.”
“Well, I guess it’s too late for that isn’t it?”
“Hey—you’re the one who ran out on me, sweetheart. But I’m not going to talk to you about it now. Without a doubt you are one of the grumpiest people I’ve ever known when you wake up.” Devon stormed toward the door.
Before he crossed the threshold, Lucy hurled a pillow at his head. “I’m not grumpy—you’re being impossible.”
Baited, Devon spun around on his heel. “What in the world is that supposed to mean?”
“You woke me up.” Lucy fumed. She threw back the covers revealing her long bare legs as she struggled to stand. Funny, she couldn't remember changing into her nightgown.
Devon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I was worried. I thought you may be in a coma. You have a very nasty goose egg on your head.”
“Yeah right. I thought you had pretty much decided the other night I don’t have a concussion. Give me a break—you were just getting tired of your own company.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucy.” Devon took her by the shoulders in order to force her to meet his gaze. “I’m not tired of my own company. I’m concerned for your welfare. Maybe you’re more hurt than I can see. After all, I’m not a doctor. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“You’re right. You’re not a doctor.” Lucy insisted. “Now get out of my way—I to need to pee and a hot shower would be nice.”
“Have it your way—Your Highness.” Devon bowed low and he stepped out of her path.
“Ugh! You know you are a beast, Devon, don’t you?” Lucy strutted past him. Devon stole a peek at her legs as she moved toward the bathroom. Fortunately for her, Devon looked up and was able to catch her before she hit the floor.
“Enough already. You are not getting out of this bed for anything and that’s final.”
Lucy pushed away from him, “I’m fine, Devon. All I did was trip.”
“Tripped over what? A stray carpet fiber sticking up somewhere?” he scoffed.
“You’re a pig.” Lucy tried to maintain her ruffled demeanor.
“Maybe so—but you’re not getting out of this bed without help.” Devon restated, pushing her closer to the bed.
“You can’t force me to stay in bed.”
“If I have to, Lucy, I’ll sit right here on the side of the bed until you’re better. I’ll even lie under these same covers with you and hold you in this bed if I have to.”
“Oh, no you won’t.” Lucy tried to move around him.
Devon caught her by the arm and she fell against him. “Lucy, honey, you can’t even stand up on your own. How are you going to shower?”
“I’ll take a bath, then.” Lucy countered.
“Why are you so stubborn?” Devon lifted her chin so her eyes would be forced to meet his. “Why won’t you let me take care of you?”
“I don’t want you to take care of me.” Sh
e cried still trying to get free of Devon’s embrace. “Just leave me alone. I can take care of myself.”
“What’s the matter with you? I’m beginning to think you do have a concussion.”
“I-I don’t have a concussion. I-I do have a headache though, and-and you’re overwhelming me.” Lucy grumbled.
“I’m overwhelming you?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t say—I said your cologne is overwhelming me.” Lucy tried to cover her blunder.
Devon chuckled as he hugged her to him. “My dear, I’m not wearing any cologne. So I overwhelm you, eh?” He lifted her face again to his and gently kissed her lips, “Does this help to clear your head?”
It took a mere nanosecond and Lucy was intoxicated by his kiss. All she could say in response was, “No.”
“No?” He kissed her again. “How about now?”
Lucy shook her head—big mistake—and groaned, “You’re making it worse. Go away. Please. I can’t think straight when you’re near.”
“This has proved to be quite enlightening, Luce.” Devon kissed her again. Then without another word he lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her into the bathroom. He set her on the side of the tub. “Do you need my help or do you think you can manage from here?”
“I can manage thanks.” Lucy mumbled. Her traitorous lips hungered for more of his kisses.
“Are you sure? I’d be happy to wash your back.” Devon teased jumping back away from her to avoid her attempt to box his ear.
How dare he? Lucy thought as he left her alone in the bathroom. She leaned over to run her bath water. Somehow she was going to have to convince him they needed to return home. At the very least convince him to move into a motel in town. Being in such close proximity with Devon had proved lethal to all her senses. . The night before last, though unforgettable and wonderful, could not be repeated, ever. She repeated it to herself over and over, until the statement became a mantra for her.
Half an hour later when Lucy strolled into the living room, Devon said, “Good news, Luce. I spoke with the Highway Patrol. We can go home. I’m ready to leave as soon as you are.”