On Tall Pine Lake

by Dorothy Garlock

  “Mabel, you don’t know what you’re talking about. He isn’t waiting for me. Well, maybe he is. He may be waiting to get rid of us. We’ve sure caused him a lot of trouble. So far this summer, I doubt if the camp has made enough money to pay the electric bill.”

  “I don’t think he’s worried about that.” Mabel settled back in her chair. “If you want my advice, go to him,” the older woman said matter-of-factly.

  “What?” Nona exclaimed.

  “Oh, honey,” Mabel said softly. “I know he can be bullheaded at times, but he took on the job of looking after us and we should be thankful.”

  “I’m thankful, Mabel. He’s just so damn bossy.”

  “Men are that way about the women they love. It’s plain to me that you care for him and that he has fallen for you. It’s practically written on his face.”

  “But, I . . .” Nona stammered, but she knew in her heart that Mabel was right. There was so much that had yet to be said between her and Simon, so many feelings that had bubbled to the surface but failed to break free. It was driving her crazy. “But what would I say?”

  “Go. I’ve been watching during the flashes of lightning and there’s no one out there. I don’t think they’ll stand in the rain waiting for one of us to come out,” Mabel prodded with a soft laugh.

  Before she could change her mind, Nona was out the door and standing on the porch. Mabel came out behind her. “Go on,” she said.

  Nona looked across the small gap between the two cabins and then jumped off the porch. The weather had worsened. Lightning forked across the sky to the south, and the rumbles of thunder were louder and closer together. Gusts of wind pushed the smell of rain before the storm, and the tops of the trees bent awkwardly. Pushing her flyaway hair from her eyes, Nona stepped up onto Simon’s porch. The door banged open, telling her he had been watching from the window. Simon stood in the doorway, a startled look on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously and came out onto the porch.

  “Nothing. Simon, I don’t . . . I mean, I . . .” Nona stammered, the words falling as randomly as they would if they were raindrops in the storm. Her heart hammered wildly and her legs felt weak.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked again.

  “Nothing’s wrong, but . . . ,” she began, but once again found herself speechless.

  “But . . . ?” Simon reached out, firmly took hold of her, and pulled her into the cabin.

  Mabel watched until Nona was inside, then with a satisfied laugh went back to her chair.

  Nona wrapped her arms around Simon’s waist and buried her face in his shoulder. It was wonderful to be in his embrace. She melted against him, reveling in his strength.

  “I’m sorry, Simon.”

  “I’m sorry, too, sweetheart. Don’t cry. We’ve got Maggie back,” he whispered tenderly as he pulled her close. “The rest will sort itself out.”

  They stood close together. Tenderly, his mouth found hers, nibbling, licking, caressing her until they both felt as if they were slipping into an oblivion from which they didn’t want to escape. Without a word, he scooped her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom.

  “Oh, Simon,” Nona sighed. “There’s so much I want to say.”

  “There will be time for that later, sweetheart. This time is for us.”

  He placed her on the rumpled covers of the bed and lay down beside her. They kissed each other hungrily. Her arms encircled him, her hands slid up under his shirt and ran across the smooth skin of his back. He sat up, removed his shirt, and gathered her close to him. His chest was warm and she felt the heavy beat of his heart. He felt so good. His scent was all male, fresh and clean. This was what she had always dreamed about.

  “I’ve wanted to hold you like this, kiss you like this,” he whispered into her ear. “I want to feel you naked in my arms.”

  Confidently, his hands found the buttons of her nightgown and pulled it over her head. Scant seconds later, his calloused fingertips were cupping her breasts. His rough fingers danced delicately over the soft skin, teasing at one nipple until she felt as if she would explode. Between breaths, she tugged at his belt, wanting desperately to touch him in the same way that he was touching her.

  When the belt was free, Nona gently held Simon’s erection. She rubbed her fingers over the taut skin as he moaned in her ear. At the same time, his fingers pushed down between her legs, probing into the hot wetness.

  When his beloved weight pressed her gently but securely into the bed, she could feel the pounding of his heart against her breast. With a groan of pure bliss, Simon pushed, hard and with urgency, into Nona’s softness. She gasped into his ear as he swiftly embedded himself in her depths. Pleasure soared through every nerve of her body as they moved as one. She was aware of nothing but the broad shoulders she clung to, heard nothing but the low murmur of sweet words he whispered in her ear before his mouth covered hers. Then she was beyond seeing or hearing as she slipped into uncharted, but beautiful, oblivion. They gave into the feelings that had flickered to life soon after they’d met. With every passing moment, they floated away into a world that consisted only of their hands, their lips, and the heat of their bodies.

  Minutes passed before Simon, still deep inside of her, lifted himself up on his elbows and gazed into her face. He brushed back her hair with gentle fingers.

  “Well, what do you think, little redbird?”

  “Oh, Lord,” Nona exclaimed. “I . . .”

  “It was wonderful,” Simon whispered. “I’ve spent so much time thinking about you, wanting to hold you, wanting to be with you like this, that I was nearly out of my mind. You’ve put a spell on me, sweetheart.”

  Nona sucked in her breath. She couldn’t take her eyes from his face. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop loving me.”

  Occasional flashes of lightning filled the room, silhouetting bodies pressed together in a fierce passion that had overtaken them both. When Simon moved within her again, she welcomed him. Without hesitation their bodies joined in mutual, frantic need.

  “Simon!” she cried out.

  As the movement and their caresses increased in urgency, the heat between them became fierce. With his hands gripping her bottom, Simon pulled Nona tighter with every thrust, as if he were afraid she would somehow slip away from him and disappear into the night.

  “I’ll never let you go,” he moaned. “Never. You’re mine now.”

  “And you’re mine. Don’t stop,” Nona said as she raised her hips off the bed to meet him.

  Locked tightly, they clung to each other and surrendered to the powerful forces they had unleashed. As the pleasure rose to dizzying heights, Nona lost her awareness of everything but the man who was pushing her to such bliss. Finally, the concert they’d been performing together reached its end, climaxing in a frenzy that drowned out the storm pounding the earth outside the cabin.

  Hands gently touched her moist body. Her limbs quivered but began to settle into a quieter place. When she turned to look at him, he was already drinking her in with his eyes, a contented smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

  “I’m in love with you, Nona Conrad,” he said softly.

  Tears of joy filled her eyes.

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” Simon said.

  Nona looked into Simon’s eyes and was surprised to see his gaze draw away from her own. They’d been lying in bed, talking happily, when he’d suddenly grown colder, more distant. Something was weighing on him, pressing down on his shoulders until he spoke its name, releasing him from the burden of containing it. When he finally sighed and spoke, the words sent a shiver across her bare skin. “I haven’t told you the whole story about who I am and where I come from. There’s more you need to know.”

  Much in the way that their lovemaking had made her dizzy, Nona now reeled from what Simon had just suggested. All of the doubts that had played themselves out in her mind now suddenly came to the fore again. Was he after Harold’s stolen money? Was
he involved with Maggie’s kidnapping? “What . . . what are you talking about?” she managed.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, holding his palms out to her. “Don’t worry. I haven’t been using you or lying to you.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “What I’m telling you is that I’m not just involved in this situation because my grandfather owns the bank that was robbed.” He paused for a moment, taking stock of the situation, and then added, “I’m also working for an agency that’s trying to get back the money Harold stole.”

  “An agency? You mean like the FBI?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that,” he said firmly. “It’s more like a detective agency. I was hired by the insurance firm that represents the bank. I brought you here originally because I suspected Harold had given you the money.”

  Nona’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “Why didn’t you tell me this before now?”

  “Because I had to make sure you had it. There was no point in telling you anything more if you didn’t have it.” He put one hand on hers, gave it a quick squeeze, and added, “Besides, I also had to be sure you weren’t in on it with him. For all I knew, the two of you were a modern-day version of Bonnie and Clyde.”

  Nona knew he meant for her to laugh at his joke, but instead it made her angry. How dare he insinuate that I could have been involved with a snake like Harold? She knew she was more upset than she should be, but she couldn’t help herself. Without a word, she got up from the bed and hastily gathered her nightgown from the floor.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m getting out of here.” In the scant light provided by the lightning, Nona hurriedly drew her nightgown over her head. The sooner she was out of the cabin, the better.

  “Don’t tell me you’re angry about this.”

  “You’re one heck of a detective, Mr. Wright,” she answered coldly. “You felt hurt that I didn’t trust you when all the time you didn’t trust me!”

  “That’s not fair. I’ve not lied to you.”

  “What’s not fair is your not telling me the whole truth when we found the money!” she barked. “You may not have been lying to me, not really. But you sure weren’t telling me the truth, either!” Turning on her heel, Nona left the room and headed for the door.

  “Nona, wait!” he shouted from behind her.

  Outside, she was struck by the growing ferocity of the storm. Beads of rain, whipped into a frenzy by the gusting wind, stung her face. It had turned colder, and she shivered, but she didn’t care. She was leaving. Lightning flashed, and thunder crashed right behind it. She hurried toward her own cabin, but before she could take more than a few steps, a pair of arms grabbed her from behind.

  She turned her head quickly, ready to force Simon to let her go, to tell him they needed some space between them for a while. But it wasn’t Simon who clamped a hand down on her mouth.

  This man had a mustache.

  Chapter 25

  NONA, WAIT!”

  When Nona left the bed, Simon sprang up and grabbed for his pants. After the door slammed shut, he cursed long and loud. He jerked on his jeans, tugged his shirt over his head, and reached for his boots. His heart was hammering with anger at himself for not making Nona understand his position.

  Simon couldn’t help but think about all the trouble Harold had caused. He swore that if he ever got his hands on him he would beat the bastard to within an inch of his life.

  Haven’t I just told her that I love her? Haven’t I just made love to her?

  “Son of a bitch!” he shouted as he stubbed a toe on the trunk at the foot of his bed.

  True, he hadn’t been completely honest from the beginning, but he had done what he thought was right. When he’d first told her about Harold taking the money, there had been no point in telling her he was a detective, or that Jack was working alongside him on the case. If he had told her, she would have been all the more suspicious of his motives. He had not revealed his total involvement, but that didn’t change the fact that the feelings he’d developed for her were real.

  Simon sprang out onto the porch. The storm was upon them in full force. Wind-whipped rain pelted his face, and he tried to shield his eyes with his hand. Looking toward Nona’s cabin, he could see no sign of her. Surely she hadn’t gone inside already.

  Lightning flashed, lighting up the area. His heart sank clear to his toes when he saw Nona, at the side of the cabin, in the grasp of a man. She was struggling against his superior strength.

  “Nona!” he shouted into the wind. Then: “Let go of her, you son of a bitch!”

  He leapt off the porch, and had taken no more than a few steps, when he was struck on the back of the head. His legs crumpled under him. Before everything went black, his last thought was Oh, God, Nona. Nona.

  Webb stood over the fallen man, the pistol heavy in his hand. He and Frank had watched the redheaded woman come out of her cabin and go into Wright’s. They had waited for her to come out, even though she had stayed half the night. He was certain that she and Wright had something going. Lucky bastard! He knew Frank would not stop at knocking the man out, but no one would die if Webb could manage it. Webb shoved the gun back into his belt.

  Leaving Wright lying on the wet ground, he ran over to where Frank was still struggling with the woman. The little redhead was putting up quite a fight. It was taking all of Frank’s strength to hold her, and, damn him, he was enjoying himself.

  “We need to get out of here,” Webb insisted when he reached them.

  “We need to knock this bitch upside the head,” Frank sneered, holding his hand over her mouth. “It’d sure make gettin’ her out of here a hell of a lot easier. Damn whore! If she bites me, I’ll kill her. Tap her on the head like you did Wright.”

  “I ain’t hurtin’ her if I don’t have to.”

  “Don’t start that shit now!” Frank snarled. “Grab hold of her arm so we can get movin’. Unless you killed Wright, he’ll be after us.”

  Webb reached down and seized Nona by the arm, trying to protect himself from her vicious kicks. A bright flash of lightning was followed by a loud boom of thunder, rumbling down the valley. Instinctively, he flinched. This wasn’t the kind of storm that could be easily ignored.

  “Damn, that was close!” Frank jerked on Nona’s arm, ignoring her puny attempts to kick him. “If I had time, bitch, I’d take the starch out of you.”

  They moved slowly. Nona’s kicking, combined with the wet grass, made every step hazardous. Several times Webb’s feet slipped out from under him, sending him down to one knee with a stab of pain. Through it all, he refused to let go of Nona’s arm.

  “Come on, goddammit,” Frank snarled. “You little bitch. You’ve been givin’ it to Wright. Now you’re goin’ to give it to me.”

  “We didn’t come here to rape women, Frank,” Webb argued.

  “Tend to your own business.”

  “This is my business. I’m tryin’ to keep you from getting sidetracked.”

  They made their way across the grounds toward the tree line. With every flash of lightning, with every peal of thunder, with every second, Webb waited for a shot in the back. That cowboy wasn’t a pushover, and he hadn’t hit Wright hard enough to knock him out for long.

  “Nona!” A girl’s voice carried over the sound of the storm.

  They stopped and turned back. Through the streaming rain, Webb saw the young girl standing on the porch in her nightgown. She stood staring out into the night with her hands in front of her. She had seen them take her sister and would surely spread an alarm.

  “Well, don’t that beat all!” Frank shouted, the wind diminishing the strength of his words. “I suppose it figures that little bitch’d come runnin’ home to her big sister! But hell, I ain’t gonna complain.”

  “Keep goin’, Frank,” Webb cautioned, trying to hurry him along, fearful of what he might have in mind.

  Frank shouted a vicious curse into the wind. With one hand still clutchi
ng Nona tightly, he reached into his waistband and pulled his revolver. He leveled it at the girl on the porch.

  “Run, Maggie! Run!” Nona shouted frantically when she saw the gun.

  “Here’s my chance to get rid of her. Then this one will talk.”

  Time seemed to stand still for Nona and Webb. The wind whipped the rain around them. Flashes of lightning lit up the grounds, preceding claps of thunder. The tree branches above them swayed in the strong wind.

  Through everything he had ever done, Webb had tried to avoid hurting a woman or a child. Now, as Frank prepared to shoot Maggie, something in him stirred . . . something that moved him to action.

  “No, Frank! No!” Webb shouted. Just as Frank’s finger began to tighten on the trigger, Webb lunged with all of the speed he could muster. His hand struck Frank’s elbow, pushing the gun hand high just as he pulled the trigger. The sound of the weapon firing was like a clap of thunder.

  The force of his lunge at Frank brought Webb crashing to the ground on his hands and knees. The wet grass and mud rushed up to meet him. He swiveled his head quickly, hoping beyond hope that he had been in time. Maggie stood unharmed on the porch, the shot having missed her.

  “You stupid son of a bitch!” Frank roared.

  “I told you not to hurt her!”

  Frank strode over to where Webb knelt and, cocking the pistol, pointed the gun at his head. The rain poured down on his bald head and face. He was furious.

  “I told you not to get in my way!” Frank’s angry voice rose above the din of the storm. “I warned you what would happen if you put your neck on the line for that twat!”

  Webb closed his eyes and waited for what was about to come. Frank was crazy; he was beyond listening. But, instead of hearing the gunshot that would end his life, he heard another voice, far fainter but nonetheless urgent.

  “Maggie! Get Jack!” Simon struggled to get his wobbly legs beneath him. One hand went to the back of his throbbing head and came away wet and sticky with his own blood.