"I think Brett is sweet—in a little-boy sort of way."
"Red, you don't need a sweet little boy, you need a hot-blooded man."
She ran the tips of her short, neatly manicured fingernails up the side of his neck, stopping to tease his earlobe. "And that's exactly what I have, isn't it, Mr. Romero?"
"Damn right." He clutched her knee, squeezing possessively, then slid his hand between her thighs. He wanted to find a way inside her tan slacks, inside her silk panties, to delve into the hot, moist depths of her body. But now wasn't the time or the place. Reluctantly, he returned his hand to the steering wheel.
"Look, Red, we're going to have to make a slight detour."
"Why?"
"A brown sedan has been following us ever since we went through Paint Rock. I've got to check him out. Understand?" He sneaked a quick glance in her direction. Her smile disappeared.
"Do you think … I mean, could it be … him?" Cold, numbing fear clutched her pounding heart and spread icy tendrils through her stomach.
"I don't know." Nick saw the sign that read Tiftonia exit. It would be one of the last exits before reaching downtown. Easing into the turning lane, he slowed the Bronco.
"What are you going to do?"
"See if he follows us."
"And if he does?"
"Confront him."
She sucked in a deep breath, then let out a long, slow sigh. "That could be dangerous."
"It would be even more dangerous to let this guy find out where we're going." Nick exited the interstate. The brown sedan did the same. Damnation!
"Did he follow us?" Addy started to turn her head.
"Don't look back. I can see him in the mirror. He's right behind us."
Nick saw a service station a few yards away. There were no cars around. The place looked deserted. He couldn't tell whether it hadn't opened for the day or if it had recently gone out of business.
Nick whipped the Bronco into the service station, then cut the motor. Opening the glove compartment, he reached inside and pulled out a .38 revolver. He saw the startled look in Addy's green eyes and wished to high heaven he didn't have to put the gun in her hands.
The brown sedan pulled in, parking on the other side of the station.
"Take this," he said, handing it to her.
Addy glared at the gun as if it were a live snake. With trembling hands she reached out, accepting the deadly weapon. "I don't know how to use this thing."
"Don't aim it unless you intend to use it. If your target is at close range, all you have to do is pull the trigger and you'll hit him somewhere. Just keep shooting until you empty the gun."
"Nick, you're frightening me. You're talking like you won't be coming back."
Leaning over, he kissed her forehead, then gave her shoulders a sound squeeze. "This is just a precautionary measure, Red. I'm coming back just as soon as I find out who this guy is and what he wants."
Turning, Nick opened the door. Addy grabbed the back of his shirt. He glanced over his shoulder. "Please be careful," she said.
"Stay in the Bronco and keep the doors locked."
Addy watched while Nick opened the back of the Bronco, pulled his battered suitcase toward him, unsnapped it and reached inside. He pulled out an automatic, and holding the gun in one hand and his cane in the other he approached the parked car. Addy held her breath. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes that seemed hours long.
She saw the car door open and a man emerge. From thirty yards away, Addy couldn't make out his features, but she could tell that he was shorter than Nick, with a stocky build. He hadn't pulled a weapon on Nick. That was a good sign. Then suddenly Nick punched the man in the chest with his cane. Addy's heart stopped. She gripped the heavy gun in her hands, her palms slippery with moisture.
"Dammit, man, I could have killed you!" Nick removed his cane from the man's chest. "Of all the stupid things for Rusty McConnell to do! I told him I didn't want any of Dundee's men following us."
"Mr. McConnell insisted. Hell, Nick, what was I supposed to do? The man is paying the bills, you know. Sam is working for McConnell, so that means I'm working for McConnell."
"Hugh, you should have checked in with Sam before you left. He would have counteracted Rusty's order."
"I'm sorry, Nick. I should have known you'd spot me." Hugh grinned, but Nick didn't. "As a matter of fact, I knew that you were on to me the minute you exited the interstate. That's why I pulled in here."
"There's a lady over there in that Bronco who's scared half out of her mind." Nick slipped the automatic into the back of his pants, anchoring it beneath his belt. "You get on your phone and call her daddy and tell him that his over-protective tactics didn't work, that all he accomplished was to frighten Addy. Then tuck tail and run back to Huntsville as fast as you can."
"Mr. McConnell is going to be madder than hell."
"I'm already madder than hell, Hugh. Who would you rather deal with, Rusty McConnell or me?" Nick spoke the words in a deep, even tone, yet each syllable dripped with menace.
"I get your point, Nick," Hugh said. "I'll call Mr. McConnell and tell him what happened. If he has any problems with my returning to Huntsville, he can call Sam."
"Good idea." Nick turned and walked away, leaving Hugh to jump back inside his brown sedan.
The moment she saw Nick walking toward the Bronco, Addy slid across the bench seat and unlocked the door. Nick bent down and got inside. Addy had a death grip on the revolver. Prying her hands loose from the .38, he placed it back inside the glove compartment, then pulled her into his arms.
"Oh, Nick—Nick—"
"Shh—shh— It's all right, Addy. Everything's fine."
"Who—who was he?"
"Hugh Talbot, one of Sam Dundee's men. Your father sent him to follow us."
She raised her head, her tear-filled eyes widening in surprise. "But you told Daddy that you didn't want anyone riding shotgun. Isn't that what you said?"
"Yeah, that's exactly what I said, but your old man had other ideas." Damn, he hated the way she was trembling, the way her voice quivered.
She clung to him, seeking comfort and reassurance. "I was so afraid something would happen to you, Nick. I—I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."
"Nothing's going to happen to me, Red. And nothing is going to happen to you. We're going to the mountains for two weeks of seclusion." He tilted her chin, then gave her a quick, hard kiss. "And during those two weeks, we'll belong to each other, body and soul. I'm going to teach you to laugh and love and enjoy yourself."
"And what am I going to teach you?" Addy stared at him, her face filled with innocence, her eyes as starry bright as an adolescent girl's who'd fallen in love for the first time. Nick pondered her question. A sharp, foreboding chill raced up his spine. What was Addy McConnell going to teach him? That all women weren't mercenary whores or party-girl blondes who'd slept with more men than they could count? That there were women in this world a man could trust with his heart and count on when the chips were down?
"You're going to teach me how to make you happy, Red, because that's what I want more than anything."
* * *
The late-afternoon sun blazed hot and bright, dancing off the hood of the navy blue Bronco. Inside, Nick and Addy remained cool. He watched the road signs while she dozed on and off, fitful in her uneasy sleep. He hadn't been to Sequana Falls in years, not since the summer Elizabeth Mallory had been eighteen, shortly after she'd graduated from college. Sam's young ward was brilliant. Her genius had become apparent at an early age, even before Sam's older brother had married Elizabeth's widowed mother. How old was Elizabeth now? Nick wondered. Twenty-two? Twenty-three? And did she still possess the clairvoyant powers that had driven Sam Dundee to the edge of madness?
Addy had fallen asleep again shortly after they'd exited the interstate and started making their way along the Georgia back roads leading to the mountains. The closer they came to their destination, the cooler the climate. But
even at the higher altitude, the July sun proved a relentless adversary. Thank God for air-conditioning. But if he remembered correctly, Elizabeth's great-grandmother's cottage didn't have air-conditioning. Hell!
He saw the sign. Dover's Mill. It wouldn't be long now. Dover's Mill was the last incorporated town before reaching Sequana Falls, which wasn't located on any map. It had been a small settlement deep in the mountains, where a family of Scotch-Irish settlers named Ogilvie had put down roots. Their youngest daughter, Sequana, had married a half-breed Indian. Elizabeth Mallory was their descendant. So in her veins flowed the blood of two ancient peoples—the Cherokees and the Celts.
Addy roused from her brief nap. Rubbing her eyes, she looked like a sleepy little girl. "I can't seem to stay awake."
"Traveling does that to some people," Nick said.
"How close are we to Sequana Falls?"
"Just a few miles."
"Sam must know this Elizabeth Mallory well to ask such a favor of her and to trust her implicitly." Addy rubbed the back of her neck and stretched her long legs out as far as she could in the confinement of the Bronco.
"She was his ward."
"From what I know about Sam Dundee, he doesn't seem the type to take on such a personal kind of responsibility."
"You're right about that." Nick grinned, thinking about his old DEA buddy. Sam Dundee didn't make friends easily. He was a brooding, cynical sonofabitch whose keen mind and sharp instincts had won him the respect of every man who knew him. Few liked Dundee; all feared him. Nick would match his own warrior's skills against anyone's, but in a fight he'd sure as hell want Sam Dundee and Nate Hodges on his side. Luckily for him, the two men were his best friends.
"Why did he?" Addy asked.
"Why did he what?"
"Why did Sam Dundee accept the responsibility of a ward?"
"His older brother, James, married Elizabeth's mother when Elizabeth was just a kid. James and Sandra died when Elizabeth was around twelve or thirteen." Up until his brother's death, Nick had seldom heard Sam talk about his family. But on occasion, usually after several drinks, Sam would mention Elizabeth. Nick wondered if Dundee had ever sorted out his feelings for the girl.
"How tragic, for all of them."
"Yeah." Nick maneuvered the four-wheel drive off the main highway and onto a stretch of gravel road. "Here's the turn-off to Sequana Falls."
"The road isn't even paved," Addy said, as she felt the jostling movements of the Bronco as it traveled over an uneven assortment of pebbles and rocks.
"This place is totally isolated. That's why it's perfect for our needs."
Addy stared at the towering trees, tall, majestic and ancient, that lined their pathway to Sequana Falls. Sunlight dappled down through the thick foliage, spattering shadows and shimmers across the road. The silence was eerie. After more than five miles, a clearing appeared. A cluster of small cabins lay on either side of them. They passed by, leaving the cabins behind. Another mile into the deep woods, a smaller clearing appeared. Set dead center was a circular driveway in front of an enormous, sprawling, two-story log cabin. A gigantic porch circled the house.
"This is Elizabeth's home." Nick pulled the Bronco up in front, directly behind an old, mud-splattered jeep.
"Where's our cabin?"
"Deeper in the woods, if you can believe it. And Elizabeth refers to her great-grandmother's house as a cottage, not a cabin."
"It's not a cabin?"
"The last time I saw the place it was painted white. It looked as out of place in these woods as we do."
Nick climbed down out of the Bronco. Addy didn't wait for him to make his way around to her side. Opening the door, she jumped down.
"Y'all made good time," a young woman standing on the front porch called out to them. "Welcome to Sequana Falls."
Addy shaded her eyes from the hazy afternoon sun. Looking toward the sound of the rich, melodious voice, she saw one of the most stunning women she'd ever seen in her life. Elizabeth Mallory's hourglass figure could not be disguised in the faded denim shorts and pale apricot cotton blouse. She was barefoot and braless. Her breasts swelled together like round, ripe melons.
Addy moved closer. Elizabeth descended the wooden stairs leading down from the wraparound porch.
"Elizabeth, let me introduce you to—" Nick said.
"Adeline McConnell," Elizabeth finished his sentence. "I'm so glad you're here, Addy. I hope Sequana Falls gives you the respite from worry and sorrow that you're seeking."
"Thank you." Addy couldn't stop staring at the other woman, whose beauty was almost ethereal. Her light, golden complexion was flawless, her eyes a deep, pure blue and her rich, coffee-brown hair had been French-braided and hung in one long plait to her waist.
"I know you'll want to go straight to the cottage so you can settle in and freshen up." Elizabeth approached Addy, a warm smile of greeting on her lovely face. "But I'm expecting you to share supper with me tonight."
"That's not necessary," Nick said. "We don't want to impose."
"It isn't an imposition." Elizabeth extended her hand to Addy. "It's so seldom we have visitors."
Addy felt the strength in the other woman's grasp as they exchanged a handshake. Elizabeth gazed into Addy's eyes, showing a depth of compassion and understanding that puzzled Addy. "We'd be honored to join you."
Elizabeth released her hand. "That's settled then." Reaching into her shorts pocket, she handed Nick an elaborately carved antique key. "There's only one path in and out to Granny's cottage. The only way you can reach it is on foot."
"No problem." Nick nodded toward the Bronco. "We packed light. One suitcase each."
"You won't need many clothes while you're here," Elizabeth said, a twinkle of mischief in her big blue eyes.
"I'll have to come down to your cabin once a day to phone Sam," Nick said. "I hope that won't pose a problem for you."
"I look forward to hearing from Sam on a daily basis. He seldom phones and hasn't been here since last Christmas." Elizabeth turned back toward her cabin. "If you'd like, I can have O'Grady bring your bags later."
"Is that old rascal still alive?" Nick asked, remembering the withered old man who must have been at least seventy the last time he'd seen him.
"Not only still alive, but still strong as an ox and stubborn as a mule." Elizabeth's smile created a radiance about her, an invisible but highly sensory light. "He and MacDatho have gone fishing this afternoon."
"Who the devil is MacDatho?" Nick opened the back of the Bronco, pulling forward his tattered leather suitcase and then Addy's expensive paisley-print bag.
"Oh, that's right, MacDatho wasn't born the last time you visited here." Elizabeth paused on the top step, just before reaching the porch. "You remember my German shepherd, Elspeth, don't you? Well, MacDatho is her son, born only a year before Elspeth died."
Nick handed Addy her suitcase, then returned to the Bronco for his own. "We'll head on over to the cottage. I think we can manage these two pieces of luggage. No need to bother O'Grady."
Elizabeth stood on the porch, backing slowly into the cool shadows. "Follow the path behind the cabin. It will lead you straight to the cottage." Opening the front door, she paused briefly. "I'll see you both tonight."
During the ten-minute trek through the woods, Addy and Nick spoke very little. Nick was busy surveying the area, apparently sizing up how inaccessible the cottage would be to any unwanted visitors. Addy spent the time absorbing the beauty surrounding her. She'd enjoyed so many happy hours of her childhood playing on the vast lawns of Elm Hill, but she'd never been in the mountains before, in the middle of the woods.
Addy stopped in her tracks. Nick almost collided with her back. Wobbling slightly, he steadied himself with his cane.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Oh, Nick, look!"
He gazed off into the distance, at the small house that looked as if someone had dropped an A-frame Victorian dollhouse in the tiny clearing. The white paint was peeli
ng slightly in spots, giving the structure an antique, weathered appearance. A rickety picket fence enclosed a neat little front yard.
"It's unbelievable," Addy said. "It's like something out of a fairy tale."
"Elizabeth calls it the honeymoon cottage because her great-grandfather had it built for her great-grandmother as a wedding gift, and they spent their honeymoon there and each anniversary for the next forty-some odd years of their lives."
Thoroughly enchanted, Addy walked toward the gate that hung open as if issuing an invitation. "There's something different about Elizabeth. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there's something—she's so serene … so…"
"Mystical?"
"Yes, mystical. You felt it, too, didn't you? What is it about her, do you suppose?"
"You mean you haven't guessed?" Nick followed Addy up the rock walk and onto the porch.
"Guessed what?" Addy paused, setting her suitcase down while she reached out for the key Nick held in his hand.
He gave her the key. "Elizabeth is a clairvoyant."
"You mean she can predict the future?" Addy grasped the key, half doubting, half believing Nick's assessment of Elizabeth Mallory.
"That's only one of her special powers," Nick said. "Just wait until tonight when you get the chance to know her better."
Addy inserted the key in the lock and turned the doorknob. She'd never known a clairvoyant and wasn't quite sure she believed in such a thing, but she knew one thing for certain. She definitely was looking forward to asking Elizabeth a few pertinent questions about the future.
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
Cozy and old-fashioned, exuding homey warmth and tranquility, Elizabeth Mallory's kitchen smelled of cinnamon. Rustic wood blended with creamy beige paint on all the walls, and worn, faded red bricks covered the floor. A humid night breeze fluttered the aged lace curtains at the open windows.
Addy spooned the last bite of apple cobbler into her mouth, the melted vanilla ice cream coating the crust with a milky sauce. "You really shouldn't have gone to so much trouble for us."
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