by Lee Damon
The ledges and the long, narrow beach were only exposed for a few hours, before and after low tide. Although the beach was easily accessible from the road, it was not very popular, since there was no soft, dry sand for sunbathing or picnics, and the tricky tidal currents around the Rock made swimming risky. However, the hard-packed sand had become a favorite playground for Gus and Hero, giving them plenty of room to race and romp. They didn't even have to go out on the road to reach the beach, since there was a safe if rather steep path down from O'Mara's lower terrace.
Kitt untangled her legs, letting her feet dangle over the edge of the rock, and leaned back on her elbows. She tilted her head back to look up at the rugged bastion of the Rock looming above her. After a few minutes, she got up and wandered further along the ledges, stopping now and then to investigate small tidal pools. Every so often, she turned to scan the ocean, watching an occasional boat wending its way along the channel.
It was a pleasant change—one of several in this past week—to have nothing important or necessary to do. She was thoroughly enjoying a lazy Sunday on this Memorial Day weekend. It would be her last Sunday as a single woman, and that thought brought a slow, knowing smile to her face. O'Mara wasn't wasting any more time, so he had informed her just over a week ago. She stood gazing unseeingly out to sea, remembering that long, dazed lunch at the Seaside.
By the time they woke up that Friday noon, it had been too late for breakfast. Ez was having a marvelous time helping Midge with the shop, and O'Mara, with a "Keep up the good work. See you later," had swept Kitt out the door and off to lunch before she had time to say more than '"Bye." She was in a euphoric haze and couldn't seem to stop smiling. She was perfectly happy going wherever O'Mara wanted to take her, and didn't particularly care how long it took to get there. As it happened, it only took a few minutes—several miles up the coast, they pulled into the parking lot at the Seaside, an old sea captain's mansion now remodeled into a first-class restaurant. The wide veranda overlooking the ocean had been screened for fair-weather dining, and this early in the season they had no trouble securing a table by the railing. Not that it mattered. For all the attention they paid to their surroundings, they could have been sitting in a coal cellar.
When Midge asked them later which of the famous Seaside luncheon specials they had ordered, neither of them could remember. They weren't at all sure that they'd eaten anything. Ez said they'd been gone over two hours, and they'd apparently spent the time watching each other and holding hands. The only conversation Kitt could recall was O'Mara saying dreamily, "By the way, we're getting married two weeks from tomorrow."
"Okay," she answered, equally dreamily.
"Ez and I have arranged everything."
"Okay."
Remembering it now, Kitt chuckled to herself. Ez is right, she thought, we're absolutely mizzy-mazed, the both of us. Anyone seeing us this past week would think we were a couple of love-struck teenagers. In a way, I suppose we are, but now... oh, it's so much more than it was then! Those telltale heated bubbles were starting to float up from her belly, and she forced her mind back to the here and now. The footing on these wet ledges could be slippery, and she didn't want to spend the first two months of marriage in a cast.
She squeezed between two big rocks and found herself at the edge of another pool, this one in a hollowed place in the ledge and deep enough for wading. She scanned the clear water for anything unpleasant before pulling off her sneakers and stepping down into calf-deep water. The usually icy seawater had been warmed by the sun just enough to be comfortable. Bending over, she scooped handfuls of water up over her long bare legs. She waded slowly across the small pool, feeling carefully for secure footing. On the far side, she found a smooth patch of ledge just above the waterline and sat down, stretching her legs out and swishing them back and forth in the pool.
She leaned back on her braced hands, enjoying the contrast of hot sun and cool water on her skin. Thanks to O'Mara, there was considerably more bare skin evident than she used to show. She thought with amusement of their shopping expedition a few days ago, when O'Mara had unexpectantly breezed into the shop and whisked her off to the Maine Mall in Portland, leaving Midge and Joanne happily rearranging all the displays.
Kitt had expected him to drop her off by Jordan Marsh and go his own way, meeting her later. He soon disabused her of that idea.
"No way," he said with a challenging grin, "am I going to let you out of my sight. You did make a reasonably good start on updating your wardrobe before I went to Europe. However, since this wardrobe is definitely going to be for my enjoyment, I'm going to have a hand in choosing it."
And, over her faint token protests, he did. Actually, she mused, it had been a lot of fun. He'd teased her into modeling dresses and tops which displayed an alarming amount of bare skin above the waist. Granted, he made sure her breasts were covered, but he'd only grinned wickedly and said "Good!" when she complained that she wouldn't be able to wear a bra with such low-cut backs. The flashing blue eyes and outrageously charming smile had quickly enlisted the salesgirls to his side, and they had eagerly searched racks and shelves to find what he wanted. He concentrated on summer clothes: dresses, skirts, tops, shorts and four bathing suits that she swore she wouldn't wear on a public beach. He merely quirked an eyebrow and said, "Oh, yes, you will, but only when I'm with you!" and proceeded to pick out cover-ups to go with the suits.
He'd only left her on her own once, and that was in a shoe store, with a parting admonition of "Don't forget, with me you can wear heels as high as you like." She was just writing a check for four pairs of shoes when he returned with a large box and two elegant totes, all sporting the distinctive logo of a fine lingerie shop. He laughingly ignored her questions and defeated all her attempts to peek into the bags. All he'd say was, "Later. These are just for you and me, mostly me." She blushed at the look in his eye and then kissed the smug grin off his mouth, much to the amusement of a number of people lounging around the Mall's concourse.
Kitt lifted her legs out of the water and swung around to stretch them out in the sun to dry. She glanced down at herself and smiled. The gold cotton-knit camisole top was O'Mara's choice, but the denim shorts had evolved from an old pair of her jeans. It wouldn't do to let him win them all! She still didn't know exactly what he had in those packages from Bellissima; he'd stashed them in the trunk of the Mercedes and left them there when they unloaded everything at her place. All she'd been able to get out of him was a teasing, "They aren't bras!" The man was beginning to develop a fixation about her bras. She ran one hand lightly across her breasts and laughed out loud as she remembered his scowl this morning when he caught her taking a bra out of the drawer. But she'd believed him when he growled, "If you put that on, I'll take it right off again and cut it into inch-square pieces! I keep telling you, you've got beautiful breasts, and they're firm enough so you don't need a damn bra." It had taken her half the morning and a lot of stroking before she finally got him to agree to a compromise: She could wear them in the shop, but not with him unless they were out in public and she had on something you could see through. Actually, it was no great hardship. She didn't care all that much for wearing bras either—but she wasn't going to tell him that!
Rising to her feet, she climbed the ledge around the pool to retrieve her sneakers. She glanced at her watch, only to realize that she'd left it, together with her ring, up at the house. There was no way she was going to take any chances with her ring. O'Mara had designed it with the help of a goldsmithing friend. An elegantly complex design of gold set with small diamonds and sapphires, it needed Kitt's long, graceful hand to set it off, and it had instantly become her most treasured possession. Still, she had spoken the truth when she whispered to O'Mara, "It's utterly beautiful and I'll treasure it always, but it will also always have to be my .second-favorite birthday present." His slow, knowing smile had almost knocked her over right there in the middle of the surprise party which he and Midge had organized to celebrate
the twins' thirtieth birthday.
She squinted up at the sun and then gazed speculatively at the shadows of the nearby rocks, wondering how you were supposed to tell time with any accuracy by such means. Well, using common sense and instinct, it's somewhere around mid-afternoon, she decided, and I'd better be getting back before the tide comes in. She started making her unhurried way back along the ledges, idly wondering where O'Mara and Ez had gone after lunch and when they would return. They hadn't been worried or grim, but they had definitely been uncommunicative. Surprisingly so. Unless, perhaps, it had something to do with the wedding trip.
She stopped to watch some gulls wheeling and diving around a fishing boat, her mind still puzzling over the men's secrecy. It could be the wedding trip, she mused. O'Mara is being a clam about where he's taking me. All I've been able to get out of him is that we'll be gone at least two weeks, maybe more. And that's only possible because Ez gets through at the university this week and can stay up here to help Midge and Joanne. The thought of her bear of a brother managing a bookshop, of all things, sent her into a fit of giggles. She had a vision of the shop crowded with customers and Ez cat-footing through them, trying to avoid knocking over standing racks or stepping on Midge.
Climbing carefully over some loose rocks, she scrambled down a steep section of ledge to reach a stretch where it leveled off. There was one more patch of loose rock to cross, and then it was uncluttered ledge around the far curve of the Rock to the beach. The few big rocks at the edge of the beach were deeply imbedded in the sand, and it was no problem to either climb over them or wade into the shallow water on the ocean side and through a wide gap onto the open beach.
She reached the next patch of rocks and started working her way across it. Part of her mind was concentrated on watching her footing, while the other part was still speculating on where O'Mara and Ez had gone. Perhaps it had something to do with Laura. She hadn't been in touch with O'Mara again, and he hadn't been able to locate her despite innumerable phone calls to her parents and anyone else who might know where she was or be in touch with her. Kitt understood that he wasn't saying much because he didn't want to worry her, but she also knew that he was uneasy about not being able to find out what Laura might be up to now and whether she had accepted Portman's report.
A rock shifted as she placed one foot on it and tested it for stability. She let her other leg take her weight and rested her hand on a larger rock for balance while she probed for the next foothold. What was that? It sounded like— She froze, head up, straining to hear the sound again, her eyes scanning the rocks and water to locate the source of the faintly heard noise. There it was again. Oh, God, that's Hero and he's hurt! And that's a scream! What the hell is happening?
Forgetting all thoughts of caution, Kitt went down over the rock pile in seconds, using both hands and feet to keep from falling, and landed running. She raced along the ledge, her long legs eating up the yards while the cacophony of snarls and yells and screams grew louder. As she rounded the far curve of the Rock, the sweep of beach came into sight, and she slowed momentarily to locate the source of trouble. It took no longer than the click of a camera shutter for the scene to register, and she was tearing down the sloping ledge in long leaping strides.
Her eyes were watching the ground ahead of her, but her mind was filled with the picture of the beach and the struggling people. In that brief look, she'd registered the presence of two unknown men, one trying to drag a fighting Gus toward the steps leading from the beach to a path to the road, while the other one was staggering around with Midge glued to his back and screaming like a banshee. Above Midge's screams, she'd heard a pained yelp from Hero and seen him just as he landed on the sand, where he'd obviously been thrown or kicked.
Kitt didn't bother to go to the end of the ledge; she jumped from four feet above the sand, took the shock of landing with bent knees and headed in a straight line for the battle a hundred yards down the beach. A large rock loomed in front of her, and she never slowed nor swerved, just took it in one long, vaulting leap and kept on going. The long athletic legs covered that hundred yards with a speed that would have turned an Olympic contender green with envy. For the first time in her life, Kitt was in a pure red rage, and the adrenalin surging through her body added incredible power to her strong, driving thigh muscles. Not even that last fight with Darcy had been a matter of total rage; there had been too much terror and desperation in the struggle for her life. Now, triggered by the threat to Gus and the brutality to Hero, Kitt was in a blind fury that more than equalled one of Ez's rare berserk eruptions.
She didn't waste any breath yelling reassurances. Her one goal was to reach the man struggling with Gus. He wasn't getting much closer to the steps. Not only was Gus kicking, punching and biting, but Hero had charged back into the battle, and with centuries-old instincts was lunging for the vulnerable spots behind the knee and ankle. Afterward, Kitt would remember seeing blood on the man's arm and rips in his trousers where Hero had already managed to get hold of him before being thrown off. With the fearless courage and highly developed protective instincts of his breed, Hero ignored his own injuries to attack, again and again, the man who was hurting one of his people. At the moment Kitt wasn't thinking coherently about anything except reaching Gus. She certainly had no thought or awareness of how ferocious she looked charging across the beach, her teeth bared in a snarl that matched Hero's and her eyes blazing almost as blue as O'Mara's with the force of her rage.
She was almost on them when Midge's victim spotted her. Midge was still on his back, her legs locked around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck. She hadn't been able to bring him down, but she'd certainly slowed him up considerably. Despite being nearly deafened by Midge's howls, he heard the deep roars of "No, Kitt! Wait!" and spun around, seeking the source. In an instant's awareness, he saw two huge men plunging down a steep path from the top of the cliff and, closer, too close, a mad Amazon charging head-on toward Jack. Forgetting she was a woman, he wrenched Midge's ankles apart, grabbed her arms, ducked and heaved to throw her over his head, and leaped to intercept Kitt.
She saw him coming and didn't even have to think about it. Reflexes learned long ago shot her right arm straight out, curled her fingers down and back, and slammed the heel of her hand into his breastbone. It was the last thing he expected. With his arms spread to grab her, he was wide open and she knocked him flat and breathless. And kept on going without even breaking her stride. Dimly, she heard male bellows, was aware of Midge scrambling on all fours toward the downed man, but her eyes and havoc-wreaking fury were fixed on the man now turning toward her and violently shoving Gus away from him. He wasn't expecting what he got, either.
Again, old instincts and well-learned reflexes snapped into operation. At the last second, her body from the waist up turned slightly to her left, her right shoulder lifted with the arm clamped across her ribs, she tucked her chin down behind the shoulder, and, with her legs still driving hard as Ez had taught her, she hit him full force with a smashing body block that lifted him completely off his feet and dropped him flat on his back with a resounding thud. The impact knocked her off-balance, and her forward momentum sent her down onto one knee and a hand. With hardly a pause, she pushed herself up and started to leap for the feebly moving man while a snarling Hero went by her in a copper-white blur in a direct line for the man's throat and Gus raced up with his arm drawn back and a sizable rock clutched in his fist. Simultaneously, hard arms came around her from behind, lifting her off her feet, and she heard O'Mara's "No, Hero" and "Hold it, Gus" thundering in her ear.
Gus skidded to a stop, panting, and tossed the rock aside. Hero swerved and slowed, turning to limp back toward Kitt. He was favoring a hind leg but still putting weight on it, and she didn't think he was badly hurt; his ears were up and he was practically smiling in triumph. Gus let out a sobbing "Oh, Hero," and dropped to the sand, gathering the dog gently into his arms and settling him in his lap.
O'Mara let Kit
t slide down to her feet and held her off at arm's length. He examined her quickly from head to toe to check for visible damage and, satisfied for the moment, let his gaze drift over the battlefield.
Kitt's equally quick check of O'Mara noted the signs of his desperate plunge down the cliff-path and race across the beach. He was breathing deeply; sweat ran down his face and neck and the thick pelt on his legs and arms was damp. Blood was welling slowly from several surface cuts on his bare legs—his denim cutoffs had been no protection from the rocks on that scramble down the path. Kitt was coming down rapidly from her adrenalin-powered high, and she was still somewhat bemused as she followed O'Mara's gaze and finally became totally aware of her surroundings.
Both of the unknown men were still flat on the sand, and seemed to be only partly conscious, although they were making tentative movements with their arms and legs. A choking sound drew her attention to where Ez was standing with one large foot resting warningly on the stomach of Midge's former foe. Midge apparently considered him very much a current foe, since she was trying to get back to pounding his head in the sand, an activity she had been enthusiastically pursuing when Ez had finally reached her and plucked her off her victim. He was effortlessly restraining her now with a tight one-handed grip on the back of her shorts, while he wiped the sweat from his face with his other hand. Since he was also wearing shorts, his legs, too, had a scattering of rock-cuts. The choking sound was due to his rapidly deteriorating effort to hold back laughter.
Kitt brought her eyes back to O'Mara and saw the same look of barely restrained mirth on his face. She wondered what could possibly be funny in such an appalling situation. Moment by moment, she was becoming aware of various aches and twinges in overstrained muscles, and it was coming home to her that she had put down and out two fairly sizable men. True, they weren't as big as Ez or O'Mara, but they were certainly considerably larger than she was.