Stranger on the Shore

by Carol Duncan Perry

  Maybe he'd have a chance to find out when he saw Sarah again, but he'd have to wait until Monday for answers. In the meantime, perhaps he'd better do a little research on that old resort. She was a schoolteacher, after all, and as he recalled, schoolteachers loved homework and surprise quizzes.

  * * *

  Unconsciously rubbing the spot where Jordan had held her arm, Sarah looked over her shoulder for a last glimpse of him. Chagrined, she tried to deny those last few minutes. How had she let her libido override her logic? That kiss made time and place disappear. Those few moments when she'd felt her—

  The lurching clunk of the truck, as it bounced into and out of a rut, effectively jerked her forward to the limit of her seatbelt, then dropped her soundly back into the present. She grabbed for the edge of the seat with one hand, bracing her other hand against the dashboard and looked toward her cousin.

  "Okay, T.J., tell me what's happened to young Jerry."

  "Heck, Sarah, if I knew that, the sheriff wouldn't have called for you."

  "T.J., I'm warning you..."

  "Okay, I was teasing. Since you didn't ask immediately, I figured he's really all right."

  She nodded. "I think so. I don't see anything."

  "Both Clyde and Sheriff Bascomb think he's just wandered out of hollering distance. He didn't come in for lunch. Trouble is, there were a couple of strangers by this morning and Millie's convinced they took him. So I guess the sheriff decided to call you, just in case."

  Sarah sat quietly for another moment. "I don't see anything. He's probably all right. But we'd better go on and make sure. Millie shouldn't be so jumpy. It's the summer season. The lake and Eureka Springs always attracts tourists. Now, if it was winter—that might be different." For all her logic, Sarah couldn't dispel the feeling that maybe she was afraid to see, afraid to know.

  "That's about what I thought," T.J. said, "but I told the sheriff I'd see if I could find you. Do you want to go back into Mountain Springs and then out Highway 12 or just take the old road across Bald Ridge? It's rough, but it'll be faster."

  "Bald Ridge," Sarah said, bracing herself for the jolting ride to continue. Neither of them spoke as T.J. steered the truck onto the seldom-used logging road up the side of the mountain.

  "What were you doing out on the bluff with that stranger anyway?" T.J. asked. "You ought to be more careful, Sarah. That bluff's awful isolated and he is a stranger."

  A stranger indeed. Sarah heard disapproval of Jordan in his voice. "Being a stranger doesn't make him an ax murderer, T.J. How'd you know where we were, anyway?"

  "Betsy heard you talking about Monte Ne. Then Luther saw the two of you take the south fork at the junction. I figured you were heading toward the bluff. It's the best spot around to see what's left of the old place. But honest, Sarah, you need to be more careful. You don't know beans about that man."

  This time Sarah refused to answer. When the rutted road demanded T.J.'s full attention, she allowed herself a few moments of reflection. She supposed riding off with Jordan wasn't the wisest move she'd ever made. But what harm had it done? He had turned out to be... interesting. That moment on the bluff, the moment she realized he regarded her as more than a research assistant, she hadn't resisted.

  As the truck approached the top of the mountain and started down the other side, T.J. increased his speed.

  Sarah saw him glance up at the rearview mirror. "That fellow wouldn't try to follow us, would he?" he asked suddenly.

  "I don't think so. Why?"

  "There's someone else coming over the mountain. I caught a glimpse of his dust trail before we turned into that last switchback. From the looks of it, he's traveling at a pretty fast clip."

  "We're not the only ones who know this shortcut."

  "No, I guess not," T.J. said, but Sarah noticed that he kept checking the rearview mirror.

  "Damn fool," he muttered a few moments later. "He's coming off the mountain too fast."

  Sarah glanced over her shoulder. She couldn't see anything, but the tension in her cousin's voice was making her nervous.

  With another muttered oath, T.J. suddenly increased speed again.

  "What are you doing? Slow down, T.J."

  "He's coming down too fast. He's going to come barreling around one of these blind curves in a minute and be up my tail pipe before he has a chance to brake. We've got to put some distance between us or get out of his way."

  Sarah clung to her seat as T.J., gripping the steering wheel with grim determination, sent the truck careening down the mountain road.

  "Hang on," he yelled as he yanked the truck across the narrow road and into a small clearing, then slammed on the brakes. The speeding vehicle shot past them moments later, its silhouette blurred by a swirling cloud of dust.

  T.J. exhaled a gasp of relief before he turned to ask if she was all right.

  "I'm fine, no thanks to that idiot," Sarah managed, her voice shaking slightly. "We could have been killed. If he he'd hit us we would have gone right off the side of the mountain."

  "I might have stayed ahead of him, but I'm glad I remembered this turnout. Damn fool tourist?"

  "Tourist? Did you recognize him, T.J.?"

  "No. I can't even describe the vehicle. I'd guess it was an old pickup. Dark colored. That's all I could see. But it had to be a tourist. No local would drive this road like that. I take it you didn't see much either."

  Sarah shook her head. "I had my eyes shut," she admitted.

  They rested another few minutes, still shaken by the close encounter, then resumed the drive down the mountainside. Sarah couldn't prevent help heaving a small sigh of relief when they crossed the last low water bridge and turned onto the highway leading to the cutoff for Shelton Valley. Her eyes searched in both directions for a glimpse of the reckless driver. Her cousin was doing the same. The road was clear from horizon to horizon.

  "Well, whoever it was made it off the mountain in one piece, and seems to be long gone," she said. "As far as I'm concerned, I'd rather not see him again."

  T.J. nodded his agreement, turning the pickup off the highway onto the road into Shelton Valley. They'd driven only a few miles when they met the sheriff's cruiser coming from the opposite direction. T.J. made a U-turn in the middle of the road, and pulled onto the shoulder.

  "Doesn't have his lights on," T.J. commented. "Everything must be all right."

  Sarah scrambled out of the cab and waited as the sheriff's car backed up, then came to a complete stop in front of them. Still reacting from the narrow escape on the mountain, she clasped her hands behind her back in an effort to control their shaking. The gray-haired law officer walked toward her. The suspicion that she looked as washed-out as she felt was confirmed when she saw the smile on her old friend's face turn into a frown.

  "The boy's fine, Sarah," he quickly assured her. "Sorry I gave you a scare."

  Sarah nodded, attempting to smile. "I thought he was. Where did you find him?" she asked as the knot in her stomach eased. There was always a chance her sight was wrong.

  "Fell asleep in the hayloft and didn't hear his mother calling'" the sheriff said. "I suspect he'll think twice about visiting those kittens for the next couple of days."

  Sarah was sure her face was reflecting her relief. "You know better than that, Sam. Kids and kittens go together."

  "Guess so. Millie says she'll look there first next time. I'm just sorry I sent out a call for you. But if it wasn't Jerry going missing that's got you so frazzled, what's the trouble?"

  "Some damn fool of a tourist nearly ran us off the side of the mountain," T.J. said, joining them. "Came boiling off Old Baldy like it was a raceway."

  "What happened? Anybody hurt?"

  Sarah watched the frown on Sam's face grow fiercer as T.J. described the near-accident and told him that he couldn't identify the vehicle.

  "How about you, Sarah? Can you add anything?

  "No. By that time I had my eyes shut."

  "And that's another thing," T.J.
said. "You know where she was when I finally found her. She was out at Indian Bluff, alone with that stranger who's been asking about her. Anything could have happened. I told her, but she won't listen to me. Maybe you can talk some sense into her."

  "Now see here, T.J." Sarah began, "you're not the boss of me."

  "Simmer down, Sarah. He worries about you," Sam said, laying a restraining hand on her arm. He turned his attention to T.J. "Thanks for hunting her up. I appreciate it. You can go on now. I'll get her where she needs to go."

  "Yeah, well... T.J. gave her a sheepish look. "I'm sorry, Sarah."

  "It's all right." She stood on tiptoe and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for caring, T.J. You go on back to work. Sam will take me to town."

  T.J. nodded and climbed into the pickup.

  Minutes later Sarah and the sheriff were headed back to town. Sarah told him her car was parked behind the café, then waited for the lecture she was sure was coming. It didn't take long.

  "I hate to sound like T.J.," Sam began, "but it really wasn't very smart to go out to the bluff with that stranger."

  "Don't you start, Sam."

  He cleared his throat. "Thing is, I checked around a bit when he started asking about you. He's a writer."

  "I know."

  The sheriff gave her a startled look. "You knew, and you went with him anyway?"

  "It's okay, Sam. Really. He's doing an article on Monte Ne. That's all."

  "You sure about that?"

  "Well, that's what he said. That's what Aunt Cinda said, too. At least she said he was looking for Monte Ne. Honest, Sam. Sometimes I think you're as paranoid as I am."

  "Nothing crazy about being careful," he told her. "But I guess you know what you're doing. What kind of fellow is he? Did you like him?"

  The last thing Sarah wanted to discuss was her reaction to Jordan Matthias. Her mind recreated the image of his face. She dropped her eyes in confusion, hoping she was still sunburned enough to hide the blush she could feel creeping up her cheeks.

  He seems nice enough, I guess. I don't think I'd like to be on the wrong side of him, but he's polite enough. Mostly we talked about Monte Ne."

  "Well, you just be careful. From what T.J said, you have enough of a problem with your aunt to keep you busy this summer. You don't need to go around importing new ones from outside."

  She'd known, of course, that her efforts to get Aunt Cinda off her mountain were common knowledge in the valley. "If you've got any suggestions on that one, I'd appreciate them. Getting her to move is going to be a tough one."

  "I know," Sam agreed, "but she's lived up there all her life. It's her home. Lord, I couldn't even get her out of there last fall when we had all that flooding.

  Sarah grimaced. "How far did the water come up?"

  "Right to the edge of that old sycamore and it takes a real gully washer to get that high so near the top of the mountain. I went up the next day to make sure she was all right. There she was, sitting on the front porch, rocking just like she hadn't come within fifteen feet of being completely flooded out. I tell you truly, I don't envy you that job. It's about as likely as Mammoth Spring running dry."

  "I'll think of something," Sarah told him. "I have to. No one else in the family can do anything with her."

  The sheriff grunted and changed the subject, asking her how her contact with the police detective in St. Louis was working out.

  "All right, I think. Detective Hoyston is not particularly enthusiastic, but he's keeping his part of the bargain."

  "I expected that, Sam told her. "Hoyston is one of those I-believe-what-I-can-see men."

  Sarah couldn't help but laugh. "Don't be so hard on him. After all, not everyone had the advantage of having a Cherokee great-grandmother.

  "Is that why you picked me to confide in?" he asked her. "I always wondered. You were just a child, 'bout knee-high to a grasshopper, as I remember, and there must have been half a dozen adults standing around. How old were you that day? About thirteen?"

  "Eleven. And yes, I guess that's why I picked you. Of course, I didn't know about the great-grandmother then. I just knew that you were the only one who might believe me. And I had to tell someone besides family. Except I never had. I mean, no one else knew that I could," Sarah let her voice trail off, reluctant even now to talk about it.

  "Anyway, I looked around and knew you were the one I should tell. Now I realize why. Because of your grandmother's talents, you wouldn't automatically dismiss me. You were at least predisposed to accept the possibility of knowledge you couldn't prove or explain."

  Sam nodded. "I remember at the time I thought I was just humoring a little girl with pigtails as soft as corn silk. Besides, I didn't have anything to lose. We had no idea where the kid was."

  "Sometimes things work out right."

  "Yes, they do, don't they?" The sheriff cleared his throat. "You'll end up making a believer out of Hoyston. Wait and see."

  "I don't really care if he believes me or not. Just as long as he acts on my information and keeps the vultures away," Sarah said.

  "Well, watch yourself. And be careful with that stranger fellow, too. You have any problems, you come to me."

  "I will. I promise, Sam. Haven't I been running to you for years?"

  "See that you keep on doing it, too," he told her gruffly. The sheriff pulled into the parking area behind the café and parked next to Sarah's Volkswagen.

  "Thanks for coming when I called, Sarah. Remember, you take care now, you hear?"

  "I will, Sam. I promise."

  * * *

  Despite her involvement with her grandparents' out-of-town family guests, for Sarah the weekend dragged. She moved automatically through the days, helping her grandmother prepare meals for their visitors, but isolated by the endless churning of her thoughts.

  She had to meet Jordan Matthias on Monday. She'd promised. Why did she find him so attractive? The answer came as swiftly as a summer thunderstorm rolling across the valley. She found him attractive because he made her feel desirable.

  It had been so long since she'd allowed herself to be Sarah, the woman. She was Jimmy Joe's playmate, T.J.'s cousin, Aunt Cinda's niece, and daughter to her grandparents. She was friend and prodigy to Sam Bascomb, neighbor to the population of Mountain Springs and teacher to classrooms full of students. She was all those things, but to Jordan Matthias she was simply a woman, a woman he found attractive.

  Saturday dragged into Sunday. The house remained filled with relatives. She participated automatically, a part of the activity around her, yet separate. Even as she prepared a tub of potato salad, Jordan continued to invade her thoughts. She knew he'd be gone soon. The leaving was inherent with the coming. He would collect the material he needed for his article, then go without making a ripple in the placid life of Mountain Springs.

  Would it make a difference in the scheme of things if she stepped beyond the limits of her life in the valley? No. This one time she could pretend to be just Sarah, a woman no different from any other. This once she would be a woman like any other. A woman in body and soul. What harm could it do? Certainly none to him.

  Besides, she had promised to meet him. She wanted to meet him. She wanted to be in his arms one more time before he disappeared. She wanted to experience what other women, those not so guarded, did. She wanted to feel her body sing.

  Chapter 5

  Jordan smiled in satisfaction as his eyes strayed to the woman seated beside him. He'd been right. Sarah Wilson had arrived at the fishing camp at exactly ten o'clock. Despite her promise, he'd felt a rush of relief when he caught sight of her through the windshield of her dusty vehicle. During the three days since she'd left him behind in the clearing, he'd thought of almost nothing else. Jordan couldn't remember when he'd felt such an instant attraction to a woman. And he knew she felt it too. They were like a pair of magnets. However, he couldn't remember when attraction had been less convenient. Wrong place. Wrong woman. Somehow, he had to ignore the spell she cast w
ith those mystic eyes, the feel of her gently rounded—

  No, Jordan! He had to focus on his reason for being here.

  As she'd suggested, he had spent most of Friday and part of Saturday checking area sources for information on Monte Ne. He found the old resort a fascinating subject. Sarah was right. It did deserve recognition for its place in history. He would do an article on Monte Ne, but he still wanted the story on Sarah. She certainly didn't fit the usual psychic subject profile. That gave him hope that this time, maybe he had found the magic.

  Jordan ignored a nagging twinge of guilt. After all, he only intended to tell the truth. If she proved to be psychic, she should have no objection to that. That she seemed to avoid publicity was certainly an anomaly when compared to his previous investigations. It could be a point in her favor. But, if she turned out to be another fake, well, she deserved no sympathy.

  He cast another quick glance in her direction. She'd already thrown him one curve this morning. After that interlude on the bluff he'd expected her to show up wearing her guarded reserve like a shield. Instead, she'd bounced out of the car, eyes shining, like a child anticipating a special treat.

  "The missing boy, Jake said he was safe and sound." Jordan disciplined the tone of his voice to reflect casual interest. He didn't want her suspecting he'd guessed the reason she'd been summoned.

  "He was visiting the barn cat's new family and fell asleep in the hay," Sarah said, welcoming the respite granted by his neutral comment. "He had no idea of the commotion he was causing."

  "That sounds—" Jordan hesitated. A boy visiting a new batch of kittens sounded logical to him. Why hadn't the mother thought to look there before pushing the panic button? He wasn't going to ask. The boy's mother was Sarah's friend. Criticizing her probably wouldn't earn him any brownie points.

  "You're right, it was a logical place to look," Sarah said, just as if he had spoken aloud. Did she realize what she was doing?