CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Chad stole peeks at Beth as he drove, asleep on the seat next to him, a secret smile on her lips. He fantasized about kissing those lips again. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her face looked so serene. And as he thought about it, he realized that was what she brought to his life, a sense of peace. In fact, she demanded nothing of him, asked nothing of him, and simply enjoyed whatever it was he had to offer in the relationship. His heart had ached for so long that he had grown immune to the pain. But now, with her near, he could almost forget about those horrors that haunted him without ceasing.
He saw the sign for their exit. Rocheport. It didn’t sound like a nice place, but he knew she would like it. He looked over to see if she awoke with the change of speed, but her eyes remained closed. He turned down the rural route and drove about five miles before finally turning off on a short, bumpy side road.
Beth woke up as the car jostled over uneven pavement. She sat up and looked around to get a sense of where they were. They crossed a set of railroad tracks and then the car was moving along a concrete drive that dead-ended in a wall of vegetation. He pulled into a small parking lot to the left.
“We’re here,” he announced, smiling and turning off the engine.
She just smiled back at him. They got out of the car and she turned slowly in a circle to examine her surroundings. The mass of greenery in front of them was either a scraggly bush or an overgrown patch of weeds, she couldn’t tell which. Beyond Chad, on the other side of the car, was a concrete pathway leading who knows where into some farther foliage. Behind them was a small café, “Trails End,” with a few picnic tables in front of it. There was an attached shop, which sold hiking paraphernalia. To the right, across the drive, was a second trail, or perhaps a continuation of the first, as it was located directly across the parking lot from it.
He watched her as she took in their setting. He expected a sense of letdown. They drove over two hours for this? But her face glowed as usual. They walked around and met at the back end of the car. He held both of her hands in his, still smiling. He waved toward the café where there was a sign in the window reading, “Bikes for Rent.”
“Should we rent bikes?” he asked.
“Oh no. Let’s walk. That way we can talk.”
“Good idea.” He gave her a quick kiss and turned to his left.
“Besides,” she said, shading her eyes and blinking at the little roadside restaurant, “I don’t think it’s open. I think it’s just seasonal. It may feel like May out here, but remember, it’s still February.”
“You’re right,” he agreed jovially. As she set off on the trail in front of them, he casually waved back at the window of the café where someone watched from within.
For several minutes they meandered along the path, which now consisted of loose rock. They held hands and Beth seemed perfectly content to stroll along at his side, with the twist of plant life on her right, and what now appeared to be wooded hillside on the left.
“So? Just where are we?”
“Rocheport.”
“Rocheport? Did I sleep that long? We’re almost to Columbia. That’s where Paul and I went to school.”
“Have you been here before?” Chad asked quickly.
“No. No. We always talked about coming, but we never made it. There are supposed to be some cute bed and breakfast places near here.” She looked thoughtful. “But you probably aren’t into the whole bed and breakfast thing, huh? Being a rock star and all.”
“Actually, something like that sounds kind of good. Quiet, low key. I could use that sometimes.”
“I love you,” she blurted out effortlessly, bringing his hand, still interlaced with hers, to her mouth and kissing it.
She looked away, oblivious to the effect it had on him. The touch of Beth’s lips set him on fire, but it was her words that undid him. She, of course, would have no way of knowing how few the times were in his life when someone spoke those words to him. His mom, once or twice. Julie, whenever she wanted something. His dad, never. He could count on his hands the number of times he heard those three little words. He heard Beth saying them to Cassie, and Cassie to her, so the words came easily to them; yet he had no doubt she meant them.
Up ahead, the pathway made a wide curve to the right, and they could see the wild barrier of shrubbery came to an end at the foot of the curve, but could see nothing beyond it. The sound of water grew louder as they walked a few more yards, and then a breathtaking vista spread out before them. The mighty Missouri River, in all its grandeur, whisked past them, its current strong and swift. On the far side of the river, the bluffs rose skyward, and a singular hawk circled overhead.
“Oh, Chad!” She stood, spellbound by the spectacular view. “It’s awesome.”
He stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her, and bent down to whisper, “I thought you’d like it.” They stood that way for some time, transfixed by the beauty before them and happy to be sharing it with someone they loved. He leaned in again to speak to her, the current loud here in the open. “Should we keep walking?” She nodded, and they continued on, with his hand around her shoulder.
As they strolled, Beth chatted animatedly. “I forgot Rocheport was on the river. Can you believe those bluffs? Isn’t this called the Katy Trail?”
He nodded. “Named after the MKT railroad: Missouri, Kansas, Texas. The trains were actually still running through here even a couple of decades ago. When they closed the line, the state of Missouri turned it into a walking trail. I think it’s almost forty miles long, from St. Charles, just outside of St. Louis, all the way to Clinton.”
“You’ve been here before, then?”
“Yes, a couple of years ago.” Then, seeing the look of disappointment crossing her face, which she was trying to hide, he read her mind and added quickly, “But it was just with the guys—Roger, Dave, and Keith, oh, and Michelle and Cheri…and I think Pete and Dante tagged along, too.”
“Oh,” she said, seeming happier. “Look, Chad! There’s a little waterfall in the cliff here. The water runs underground and must feed into the river. Can you imagine what this must have looked like to Lewis and Clark? Totally unspoiled. It must have been extraordinary.” She pointed out pretty flowers along the path, a cave, the hawk banking overhead, and was, in general, delighted by everything she saw.
Chad tried not to be too conspicuous about searching for the trail. Finally, he suggested, “Hey, look, Beth. It says this path goes up to the winery. Let’s go up there. I’m sure it’s closed, but it’s bound to be a nice hike anyway.”
They began to climb. The dirt path led up the cliffside and past huge boulders hidden among the tall trees covering the slope. The recent snows were completely melted, even in the shade, but it made the path slippery in spots. It smelled wonderfully of dried leaves and pine needles, and although they could no longer see it, they could still hear the river below. The sun dappled the ground as it fell through the pine branches and the elms and oaks, which still stubbornly held a leaf here and there.
As the pair climbed higher, the ascent became a little steeper. The hillside was shaded by the massive trunks of ancient oaks, but it did not give off an oppressive feeling. Instead, it felt ageless. The dark places, little nooks and crannies in the rocks, were not frightening, but seemed to invite the visitor to explore, as if they held some magical secrets just for guests. They were high enough now the sound of the Missouri was left below them. They finally broke out of the tree line and reached the top, finding themselves at the end of a gravel driveway. Signs indicated the winery was to the left, so he led her in that direction.
After a bit they came upon a second gravel driveway and followed it to a wooden A-frame building. He pointed out a blue jay to keep Beth from noticing a car parked off to one side of the road.
“Let’s just go and check out the winery,” he suggested.
“Do you think we should?”
“Why not? I don’t see any no trespassing or private pr
operty signs.” They scooted along the side of the house on the wooden deck, which led to the back.
The building itself was unremarkable, but when they came to the back, Beth let out a little squeal. “This is so cool!”
At the rear of the building, the deck became terraced with a series of steps leading in all directions to little areas where bistro tables sat. It fanned out and became wider until it hit an open patch of grass at the edge of the cliff with a three-foot-tall wrought iron fence. A half-dozen picnic tables were situated in the grassy area.
Beth started hurrying down the steps in order to reach the edge where she was certain a spectacular view awaited when she heard an unfamiliar voice.
“Hey, Chad.”
She turned to see Chad shaking hands with a man behind the bar jutting out from the back of the building. Huge chalkboards on the walls displayed the names and prices of numerous different kinds of wines behind him.
“What’ll you have?”
“Oh, whatever your favorite is, Mark. Beth, what kind of wine do you prefer?”
She made her way back up the few stairs slowly. “A Riesling?” she answered, giving him a curious look.
The man behind the bar did not seem at all surprised the two hikers came by the winery on a February day. In fact, it seemed as if he were expecting them. He poured a glass of red wine and her Riesling and handed the glasses to Chad. “You can have a seat and I’ll bring the rest to your table.”
Chad stepped down the few steps he climbed to reach the bar, enjoying her confused look.
“What…who…?” she sputtered.
“Don’t you want to have a seat?” He gestured below, and that was when she spied the table, covered in a white tablecloth with a small, crystal vase holding three of the most beautiful roses she had ever seen. They were pale yellow, tinged with a dark pink at the edges of the petals.
“Chad...” For the first time in an hour, she was speechless.
“Come on.” He handed her the glass of white wine and took her hand, leading the way down the steps. He placed his glass on the table and pulled out her chair. She sat down, overcome for a moment. He sat beside her, looking like the cat that’d swallowed the pretty, yellow bird, and sipped his wine, waiting for her to speak.
“How did you do this?”
He answered, staring out over the vista without turning to her. “Mark’s a Trapped Under Ice fan. Are you hungry?”
“Famished, actually,” she admitted.
As if on cue, Mark came down the stairs with a large basket. “Is the wine all right?” He smiled, seeming to thoroughly enjoy his part in surprising her.
“It’s fantastic,” she responded, grinning at him and then letting her eyes rest on Chad’s profile.
“Did you need anything else, Chad?”
He turned finally to look at her, raising his eyebrows as if to ask her if there were anything else she needed. She shook her head, and Mark left them, having set the basket on the table. He held her hand.
“You—” Her voice caught and she looked away for a minute. “You did all this?”
“Well,” he admitted, “Mark did most of the work. But yes, I called and asked him if he could set this up for us.”
“This is the sweetest—” She got choked up again.
He leaned toward her. “I just wanted to make today special.”
“It already was,” she asserted, her eyes brimming with tears.
He kissed her and that was when he knew he didn’t want this to ever end. He picked up his wine glass, and raised it. Looking her in the eyes, he toasted, “To many more days like this,” and he, too, became emotional for a minute. They clinked glasses and drank.
He set his wine back down and rubbed his hands together in anticipation of their feast. “Let’s eat,” he offered, pulling back the napkin covering the top of the basket. He withdrew a small cutting board and knife, a green apple, a roll of salami, a loaf of crusty French bread, and a chunk of creamy white cheese. He cut the apple and they split their repast between them, drinking their wine while they relaxed.
When they were finished, Chad asked her if she wanted to get a closer look. Leading her down the rest of the stairs, their wine glasses in tow, they reached the edge of the parapet. They set their glasses down on one of the picnic tables nearby and approached the fence together. A light breeze kissed their faces as they drank in the landscape in front of them.
Just outside the fence, large golden grasses danced in the wind on the edge of the cliff, and one large, graceful tree spread its branches as if beckoning the viewer to take a further look. To the left, a picturesque railroad bridge spanned the river. To the right, they could see a barge working its way upstream with the ever-present hawk now drifting below them.
Chad’s arms encircled her, clasping the railing in each hand. She leaned into him, breathing. “Could this day be any more perfect?”
“I don’t think so,” he noted, their voices hushed in the stillness out of a sense of reverence. “Do you want to sit down?”
They climbed up on the picnic table, so they could still have an unobstructed view of the river. Beth sat between Chad’s long legs, as his feet rested on the bench, and once again leaned into his body. He kissed her neck from time to time, but mostly enjoyed the quietude and her warmth.
“Beth,” he asked softly, “why did you cry the first time I kissed you?” He felt her body go rigid. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”
“No. I want to tell you, but it’s hard to explain. I don’t want you to think I’m…Oh, God,” she murmured, sitting up and putting her head in her hands.
Oh, man, Chad thought, this is SO not what I wanted to happen.
“Ugh!” Beth cried out in frustration, jumping up and pacing in front of him. “I don’t know why I cried. It’s just, you were so nice and funny and”—she chuckled—“attractive. And you kissed me and I cried.” She stopped pacing and gazed up at Chad helplessly.
“I’m,” he said slowly, “still not sure what I did wrong.”
“You did nothing wrong!” Beth pounded her hands on his knees. He jumped, surprised by her mini-explosion. “Can’t you see? It’s me, Chad! I was afraid.”
“Afraid of me?” He recalled the horror on her face the first time he saw her. “Because of what I did to the guy who attacked you?”
“No,” she uttered weakly. Looking down, Beth took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Afraid of the things I was feeling when I was in your arms. Afraid because it reminded me of the way I felt with Paul. And...” She looked up, searching his eyes as if willing him to understand what she couldn’t bring herself to say.
And suddenly, he knew. While this little dynamo he had come to love so much fought through much in her lifetime, this was the one thing she was afraid of, going back to a place where she had so much to lose. It must hurt like hell to think of losing it again. “Oh, Beth,” he cried out, pulling her to him. “I pushed too much. You weren’t ready—”
“No, Chad!” She struggled to pull away from him. “It’s not your fault. I’ve had three years to put this behind me—”
“Beth, this isn’t something you can put behind you.” He took her hand, looking down for a minute before continuing. “It stays with you.” And as he said it, he wondered if he, too, would always be saddled with his past. “If this is going to work, we have to be honest with ourselves,” he added as much to himself as to her.
She turned with her back to him, crossing to grip the railing and dropping her head. “And now I’ve ruined the perfect day you tried so hard to make for us.”
He jumped up and went to her, leaning his back against the fence so he could get a good look at her face. “You didn’t ruin anything. This was the perfect day. And I’m glad you told me what you did.”
She slid her eyes to him, and then suddenly moved to hug him, burying her head in his chest. “Oh, God, Chad. I’m sorry.”
“Shh-shh. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He reac
hed down and lifted Beth’s chin to kiss her. Her lips curved up slightly. “There, that’s better.” Chad suddenly saw the time on his watch. “Oh shit. If we don’t get moving, I’m going to be late for sound check. Roger goes totally ape if you’re late to sound check.” He grabbed her hand and started rushing up the stairs.
“Roger? He seems like Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky to me.”
“He is,” Chad admitted, “just so long as you’re not late for sound check.”
“You guys leaving so soon? You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
“No. Thanks a lot, Mark. Everything was great.” He laid several large bills on the bar with a dozen or so concert tickets.
Mark shoved the money back across the bar. “The tickets are enough, Chad.”
“No. Please take this. This meant a lot to us. I’m sorry we have to run off, but if we don’t hustle, I’ll be late for sound check.”
“Shit, man. You’d better get going. You don’t want to have to deal with Roger.”
“You ain’t kiddin’!”
He and Beth hurried up the inclined drive. They reached the dirt path and scrambled down as fast as they dared. Belatedly, he thought, I should have asked Mark if he could drive us to our car. Chad decided not to climb back up. For all he knew, Mark had already left.
About a fourth of the way down, his feet hit a patch of loose rock and he tried to backpedal as the ground crumbed away beneath his feet. Not able to react quickly enough, he slid off the side of the path into a deep ravine. After a few harried seconds, he was able to stop his drop by digging his heels into the soft mud and grabbing at some fledgling pine trees trying to grow in the shade of much grander trees.
“Chad!” Beth screamed, but just as she put her foot forward to climb down to help him, her own path broke away underneath her. Whether the snow eroded the base of the path or his mini-landslide stole away its last support, she careened down into the same pit he fell into, only where she was standing on the path, the trench along the side was much deeper and the ground beneath it much rockier. He saw her body falling through space and then heard her land with a sickening thud.
TRAPPED UNDER ICE (ROCKING ROMANCE COLLECTION) Page 14