This Time in Timberline

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This Time in Timberline Page 25

by Jennifer Morey


  Utah patted his chest. "Dinner's almost ready. Will you go start the grill?"

  Dinner? Had she invited him over for dinner without telling him? "What do I smell in the oven?"

  "Wine-Braised Brisket. The goat cheese stuffed peppers need to be grilled."

  "What's the occasion?"

  "Does there need to be one?" She walked to him and rose up onto her toes to kiss him.

  She moved away before he could turn up the heat. "No."

  After a few seconds contemplating her, he went out to start the grill. As he lifted the lid, he caught Ellie's head popping up over the fence when she straightened from a crouch in her flower garden. Even from this distance he could see her eyes go feral beneath the shade of her big straw hat.

  "I'll have your hide if you hurt her," she yelled.

  "Nice to see you, too, Ellie." He ignited the grill.

  "I heard all about what you did at the festival."

  Her and everyone else in town. He'd gotten everything from envious pats on the back to giggles from young girls. Damn his dad. He'd done that on purpose.

  "What are you doing there, anyway? Calvin Roderick is gone now," Ellie said.

  Using a scraper, he cleaned the grate on the grill. "Having dinner."

  "You're staying there. Don't you try and fool me."

  "Mind your own business, you old bird," Utah said. He turned to see her holding a handmade foil packet. She put it on the grill and he closed the lid.

  "Has he asked you to marry him yet?"

  "No."

  "Then it's still my business."

  "That's very sweet of you," Utah said.

  "Sweet," Ellie muttered. "I don't want to pick up the pieces a second time, Mason Briggs. You mark my words."

  "I'll do my best," Mason replied.

  Ellie mumbled something he couldn't hear.

  He turned to Utah. "Was she always so crass?"

  She breathed a laugh. "Yes."

  "I don't remember her that way."

  "She's going to live to be a hundred and ten."

  "I guess I better behave then."

  "Guess so." She rose up onto her toes and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for chasing Calvin out of town today."

  Is that why she was so happy? Something told him there was more to it than that. "Don't thank me. My dad had the FBI waiting for him down the highway." He told her the whole story.

  She looked off into the mountainous distance as she listened. "No wonder he was so desperate for money. He could have gone to Mexico or somewhere to get away." The thought of what he might have done to her gave her an indelicate shudder.

  She changed the topic to her golf course and they talked a few minutes. The smell of cooking peppers told him they were done.

  He took the foil packet off the grill and set it on a plate. Following her inside, he sliced the brisket while she put everything on the table. He brought the brisket over as she lit a candle.

  "Why are we doing this?" he asked.

  "Doing what?"

  "Having a nice dinner."

  She shrugged. "I've never felt more at home than I do now."

  In Timberline. That's what she meant. Despite his aversion to small towns, he adored that about her.

  "You have to try everything," she said. He watched her put salad on his plate.

  "Baby Blue Salad with Sweet and Spicy Pecans," she added. "My mom's recipe."

  He forked some brisket and peppers and spooned some red potatoes with artichokes onto his plate. Not that he'd be able to eat much of it. He wanted to eat her.

  She sat across from him. Giving him a wicked smile.

  "What are you up to?"

  "You," she said.

  He wanted her too much to analyze the change in her. Utah willing drugged him to anything but taking her to bed. Gently grasping her wrist, he coaxed her from her chair and drew her to him, tugging her onto his lap. With sultry eyes, she slid her arms around him and kissed him.

  Instant heat rushed him. He cupped the undersides of her breasts and kissed her back, taking her mouth, voracious with pent up desire. Would it always be like this with her? She dug her fingers into his hair, matching the force of his kiss.

  He couldn't wait any longer. Standing with her, he carried her to the stairs and climbed. All the while, Utah brushed wet kisses on his neck and jaw and teased his mouth into another fireball of a kiss.

  In her bedroom, he lowered her onto the bed and yanked out of his shirt. She pulled off her top and started on her shorts as he kicked off his shoes and jerked open his jeans. She got naked before him and came up onto her knees, bringing her mouth to his abdomen.

  She pulled down his jeans and trailed her tongue up his erection. He held her head gently, panting for air, mindless with sensation. She took the tip of him inside her mouth, sucked and took him deeper. The sound that resounded in the room came from him. She'd never done this to him before. But any more of that wet, slippery mouth on him and he'd ruin it for both of them.

  Pushing her onto her back, he went wild seeing her lick her lips and tore out of his jeans in his hurry to get on top of her. She opened her legs for him. He couldn't resist the invitation. Cupping her rear, he elevated her hips and separated her folds with his tongue, probing and caressing until her wetness drenched him. She came with a shout that mirrored his when she'd had him in her mouth.

  Kissing his way up her torso, reveling in the way her ribs rose and fell and the sound of her labored breathing, he slid easily into her. The pressure of her hugging his length blinded him to anything else but the feel of her flesh dragging against his. He moved exquisitely slow, pushing deep, grinding to heighten the sensations firing through him, then pulling out.

  "Mason," she breathed his name. The sound of it was so sweet, he shoved into her harder than he wanted. He wanted this to last. Nothing had ever felt so important to him. This connection with her, with Utah.

  He pushed in deep, ground his hips, and withdrew, feeling his muscles tremble, on the brink of an incredible orgasm. She was too, looking at her flushed face, her passion-drugged blue eyes, and feeling her fingers biting into his biceps, her thighs tensed at his hips.

  Her cries accompanied her hard squeezing orgasm and catapulted him into an explosion that made him ram into her a few more times before going still.

  He lowered himself down on her, not wanting her nearness to go away. He lay immersed in the afterglow, not able to recall if he'd ever experienced anything more powerful. The night of the festival had been an exercise in satiation. This...this he was afraid to define.

  "I love you," she whispered against his ear.

  He stiffened as her words sank into him. He lifted his head. Her eyes were wary. He didn't think she meant to say what she had. Not out loud. He wished she hadn't.

  She loved him? Did she? Or was the sex just that incredible?

  A mocking voice in his head said the two went hand in hand. Love and sex. Love and good sex. Love and mind-numbing, world-rocking sex.

  He pulled out of her and rolled onto his back, knowing how she'd receive that but unable to help his reaction. He was too stunned. How did he feel about her loving him? Did he love her? It terrified him to wonder. And he didn't know why.

  She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him, her breasts perched on her chest, nipples still hard. He felt the stirrings of passion again, even though it would be a while before he could do anything about it. To cover his unease, he opened his arm, beckoning her to lay beside him. She did, not seeming any more eager to talk than him.

  He held her for about an hour before dosing. He didn't know how much time passed before he woke from a dream. It was the same as it always was. Women and children screaming, him shooting at them. Only this time one of the women had been Utah.

  He swung his feet over the edge of the bed, dragging his hand over his face.

  The nightmare would never leave him if he didn't do something to kill it. He'd like nothing more than to stay with Utah, but he could
n't do that and forget West Africa. Although he'd done a good job of doing just that up until now. Forgetting. Falling into Utah. Forgetting something that would never stop haunting him.

  Unless he did something about it. And to do that, he had to leave Utah. Again.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  When Utah woke, sunlight spilled through the window and the room was too quiet. Jerking to a sitting position, she looked at the empty spot beside her.

  Maybe he was making her breakfast. Except, she didn't hear any sounds downstairs. Didn't smell anything cooking, either. A sick feeling grew in her stomach. He'd acted strange after she blurted she loved him. She hadn't intended for that to slip out. She was afraid it might be counteractive to her objective. She needed more time with him. She didn't want to scare him away prematurely.

  Tossing the covers aside, she pulled on some underwear and a black cotton sundress. Her heart pounded a dreadful beat as she trotted downstairs. No one in the living room. No one in the kitchen. All the food and dishes from last night were still strewn everywhere.

  Last night.

  Surely he wouldn't leave like this. Not the same as he had all those years ago. Just pick up and vanish without saying goodbye. She grabbed her car keys and drove the short distance to Main Street. She didn't see his Mustang anywhere. She was mad and anxious at the same time.

  He wouldn't do it to her twice. Not without saying goodbye.

  He better not.

  She drove to Andy's after seeing that he wasn't at his office. No Mustang. The sick feeling intensified.

  Andy came out onto the front porch and she knew when she saw his face. Opening the car door, her limbs began to tremble.

  "He's gone, Utah."

  That stole her breath. She blinked with an effort to process the meaning of all this. Mason had left. He was gone. Just like when she was sixteen. Only this time it seemed so much worse. It meant so much more. She understood it more. She was no longer the young girl, ignorant with bliss.

  "Why?" Her voice sounded as crushed as she felt inside. The heavy pain of disappointment oppressed her. It was a familiar feeling and yet, not. All her other disappointments hadn't been so debilitating. Her mother's death, but that had been a different kind of pain.

  "He said to tell you he was sorry. I wanted him to tell you himself but he refused. Said it was best this way. Said it was something he had to do."

  Tears burned her eyes and her throat felt constricted.

  "Also asked that you don't wait for him."

  She turned and walked past her car, her mind racing with images of Mason over the summer.

  "I'm sorry, Utah. I tried. I honestly tried to make him see what a mistake he's making."

  She looked back at him, mouth parted to take in more air, a tear falling down her face.

  "He wouldn't listen." Andy stepped down the stairs.

  She held up her hand, waving him off, facing forward again. "No."

  She couldn't handle any sympathy right now. Her heart was so raw she didn't know how to crawl her way out of this maelstrom of anger and grief and self-condemnation.

  How could she have allowed this to happen to her twice?

  Twice for God's sake! She should have listened to Ellie and waited until she was sure he wouldn't leave her. Wait to see if this time he'd pledge forever. What a fool she'd been to try and sway him into staying. That had only made her love him more. And now hurt more.

  Telling him she loved him had been a mistake.

  She kept walking when she reached the road that led to the stream Mason had crossed with her in the wagon, not caring that she left her car in Andy's driveway. Her lower lip quivered. She hugged her middle. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She hated being so weak, but it was such a blow to wake up after another glorious night with Mason, only to find he'd run off exactly the way he had before.

  At the stream, she sat on her folded legs and relented to a good cry. Her sobs traveled a long way on the mountainside. She curled onto her side in the tall grass, fisting a handful of it in front of her face. When she got past this, she'd be mad at him. But for now, she needed to let go.

  After a while, she felt spent inside and just lay there in the grass, staring between swaying blades at the hillside across the stream, remembering.

  Footsteps sounded. Someone on horseback. She didn't care enough to lift her head and look. The horse stopped near her and a man dismounted. It wasn't until he knelt beside her that she saw it was Andy. He looked down at her with a grim set to his mouth.

  "I'm ashamed to call him my son," he said, sliding his arms under her and lifting.

  She let him. At the horse, he boosted her up and climbed on behind her. Silent tears rolled down her face as he took her back down the mountain. She noticed he'd closed her car door. She didn't want to drive home. She didn't want to go anywhere. She didn't want to think anymore. But she had to keep pushing forward. She couldn't let this or anything else make her crumble.

  "You can stay as long as you want," Andy said. "Guest room at the top of the stairs is yours."

  "Thank you, Andy. But I need to go home and clean the kitchen." She walked to her car, knowing it was a lame excuse.

  She'd allow herself some time to grieve, but after that, no more. She knew this day might come.

  Mason was gone. She had a new life here in Timberline. She'd live it without him.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Keegan talked excitedly beside him, but Mason wasn't listening. He couldn't figure out why the success of their mission didn't feel better. Weeks of planning. A dangerous drop into enemy territory. They'd still managed to capture and kill the terrorist responsible for killing his teammate and all those women and children. Covertly. Not even their commander knew, although it had reached the news and they'd received an angry call from him. It hadn't taken him much of a stretch to figure out who'd done it.

  They'd shaken up political ties to Pakistan, but they'd avenged their teammate and one more barbarian terrorist was dead. Mason should feel like celebrating. Keegan was. He was glad it was over. Mason was, too, but he didn't feel vindicated. Free of the tragedy. Maybe he never would be.

  If getting back into the action couldn't help him overcome the nightmare, what could?

  "Mason."

  Mason turned to look at Keegan.

  "What's on your mind?"

  He looked back at his beer bottle. "Nothing."

  Keegan was quiet for a while. "You've been like this ever since we left Pakistan."

  Ever since he left Pakistan, he couldn't stop thinking how empty he still felt. He also couldn't stop thinking about Utah. He hadn't stopped thinking about her at all, but after Pakistan it weighed on him heavier than before. Now that he'd accomplished what he'd set out to, he wasn't sure what he'd do next. And that uncertainty always led to Utah. As though his conscience was telling him she was what was next for him.

  "Are you going back to her?" Keegan asked.

  Mason didn't answer. He couldn't. He was still so confused. Probably more now than ever. Killing the terrorist should have fixed that. It didn't.

  "I can't wait to go back." Keegan drank some more beer with a faraway look of optimism.

  It was so easy for Mason. He'd decided long ago not to live in Timberline with such conviction, it didn't feel possible to change his mind.

  "Why do you want to live there?" he had to ask. "Aside from Roanne being there, what about that town appeals to you?"

  "It's a great town. In the mountains. Everyone is friendly. And it reminds me of where I grew up."

  "You grew up in a small town?"

  "Yeah. Kalispell, Montana."

  Mason had never known that. "And you liked it?"

  "Not when I was young, but now? I wouldn't want to live anywhere else than a place like that."

  When he was young. Somehow that resonated with Mason. He'd felt the same. Too young for a small, isolated town. But now...

  "When I came to see you in Timberline, I was surprised you were from
a town like that. I thought it was great, and I can tell you fit in there."

  "There's nothing in that town for me."

  "Not even Utah?"

  Mason sighed hard and drank a few swallows from his bottle of beer.

  "Some day you're going to be too old to do this shit, Mason. What will you do with your life then?"

  "Get another job in the military."

  "Military lifer? You won't be happy. What's better about that than living in Timberline?"

  Again, Mason didn't answer. He hadn't thought enough about it until now.

  "You could be a sheriff in Timberline." Keegan sipped his beer. "Being sheriff there is a lot more exciting than some office job in the military, with no family or friends around."

  He'd be close to his dad and he knew everyone in town. Utah would be his family, too. Maybe. Knowing her, she'd be mad as hell at him for leaving the way he had. He'd have to think of something to make it up to her. Something good.

  He drank deep from the beer bottle again. Why did he keep thinking about her like that? Like he'd already made up his mind he was going back?

  "You know," Keegan went on, "I thought going on this mission would put West Africa behind me. But I can't get that explosion out of my head."

  Mason looked at his friend and teammate in surprise. "I thought you were okay with that now."

  Keegan shook his head. "Just accepted it. Meeting Roanne showed me how. Killing that terrorist had nothing to do with it."

  "How did Roanne do that for you?" Even as he asked, his heart already had the answer.

  "She showed me there's more to living than dwelling on the past. Yeah, I'll always think of what happened, but it doesn't have to shape my future. And it's only negative if I let it be that way. It's all right to mourn innocent deaths. But that doesn't mean I have to carry the blame."

  It didn't have to shape Mason's future, either. Though he hadn't recognized that until now, it had been with him all along. He had a future with Utah, if she'd forgive him. He didn't have to let his past ruin that.

  It was never about going back to work that would make him whole again. It was Utah. It was all her. Though he hadn't been able to see it before, he'd come back for her.

 

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