Whiskey River Runaway (Whiskey River Series Book 2)

by Justine Davis

  She rode him until he was groaning with the pleasure of it, until he was arching upward to drive himself even deeper. She saw the sweat beading up on his skin, that glorious, wonderful skin, saw he was biting his lip. Holding back, she realized. And with a joyous laugh she leaned forward and kissed that lip.

  “No holding back,” she whispered. “Not for you.”

  He pulled her down to him then, and arched upward one last time. In that same moment he still thought of her, slipped his hand between them and stroked her just above where they were joined. One touch was all it took and she was with him, crying out his name as his cock surged within her and he echoed her with a guttural, explosive shout of hers.

  It was much later, in the quiet hours before dawn, when she felt him wake up beside her, that she raised herself up on one elbow and met his gaze.

  “That question I asked you? About whether it’s different having sex with someone you love?”

  He went very still.

  “I know the answer now,” she said softly.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Hope watched Kelsey work with the little black horse. The difference between the time she had first met the animal and now seemed astounding. He seemed more than willing as Kelsey rode him in ever tightening circles in the corral. She wondered if riding him bareback was part of her method, maybe establishing a more personal contact between horse and rider. Or maybe he didn’t like being saddled and she was working up to it.

  Hope leaned forward, resting her arms on the top rail of the fence. The sun was glorious today, after three days of clouds and rains, and she felt as if she were back in California where it was also breaking seventy degrees in January. Even the horse seemed to be enjoying it. Or perhaps he just enjoyed Kelsey’s gentle touch.

  When the circle got so small the horse was nearly turning in place Kelsey stopped him, laughing, and leaned down to throw her arms around his dark neck.

  “Well done, my little Shadow!”

  Hope couldn’t help but smile as Kelsey rode him toward her; the horse was practically prancing under her praise.

  “If you can do this in just a few days,” Hope said, more than a little awe in her tone, “you’ll have him doing pirouettes by tomorrow.”

  Kelsey laughed as she reined in at the fence near where Hope stood. The horse gave a little snort and reached out his nose to her. She patted it, then stroked the velvety muzzle.

  “You’ve come just about as far,” Kelsey said as she slid off the animal’s bare back.

  Hope gave her a startled look. Just how well tuned was the grapevine in this town, anyway?

  “I meant with the horses,” Kelsey said.

  “Oh.” Embarrassed, Hope ducked her head.

  “Although,” Kelsey added, “I hear things have progressed in other areas, too.” When Hope didn’t—couldn’t—meet her gaze, Kelsey went on very softly. “If it helps any, I don’t think there’s a person in Whiskey River who isn’t glad to see it. We all adore True, so we’re all thankful to you.”

  “I. . .thank you.”

  “You love him, don’t you.”

  Hope’s head came up then. It hadn’t really been a question, but she answered as if it had been. “Yes. I do.” I don’t deserve him, but I do.

  “So you’ll be staying?”

  Hope looked into the warm expression on the other woman’s face. She instinctively liked and trusted her, and fought not to envy her the simplicity of her life. The man she loved had shadows, yes, but they were in the past now, and he’d risen above them. They were building a great life here together, and in the way of good people were trying to help others build one too.

  “I—”

  “I was just thinking, Zee mentioned the job you were doing for them is pretty much done.”

  “Yes.”

  Kelsey smiled. “And done well, she said. Anybody who can earn that from Zee Mahan has proven herself.”

  The words pleased her immensely; she was still a little wary of True’s formidable sister. “Thank you.”

  “So I was thinking you might be looking for something else to do.”

  Hope drew back a little, startled. Glanced at the black horse, who then nudged her hand as if looking for something.

  Kelsey laughed and dug into her pocket. “Sugar. He’s gotten quite spoiled, I’m afraid. Deck is down here sneaking it to him all the time.”

  “Speaking of people who have come a long way,” Hope said as she took the two sugar cubes Kelsey offered her.

  “Oh, yes,” Kelsey said rather fervently. “He’s made great strides. More every day. I’m in awe of him almost as much as I love him.” Hope smiled at the soft feel of the horse’s muzzle on her palm as he gently took the offered treat. “But that’s where you come in.”

  Hope blinked. Shifted her gaze back to the woman with the blonde ponytail. “What?”

  “You know we’re developing the outreach program. The kids who come to interest meetings really relate to him, because he’s been through a lot of what they have and they instinctively know it. And when we actually start the equine program, bring kids here to interact with the horses, it’s going to really get time consuming. And it’s already taking up time he needs to spend writing. He’s getting behind.”

  “Well, that can’t be allowed,” Hope said. “I’m halfway through the third book and already nervous about running out of Sam Smith.”

  Kelsey laughed delightedly, and Hope couldn’t even put a name to the kind of feeling it gave her, to have done that. She felt as if she was groping blindly half the time, trying to find her way even in welcoming Whiskey River. It had been so long since she’d tried to live. . .normally that sometimes she was certain she’d completely lost the knack.

  “You’re not alone, and the fans are getting restless. So we were thinking. . .maybe you could get involved.”

  Hope blinked. “What?”

  “Look, I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through, but I know it’s a lot and it’s been rough. Kids can sense when somebody’s for real or not. I don’t even try, because they can sense I don’t have a clue what it’s really like to live through what they have.”

  Hope looked at her curiously. “Happy childhood?”

  “The best.”

  “But your father. . .”

  “Yes. But while I had him, he was the best. I’ve known loss, heartbreak and grief, but that’s not in the same universe as having the people you should be able to trust most abandon you, or turn on you. The kids we’re trying to help would get that you’re not just blowing smoke. You’ve been there.”

  “I. . .maybe.”

  “It’s not going to make you rich, but it’ll keep you in clothes and sugar cubes,” she said with a grin.

  A job. It finally got through. Kelsey was offering her a job. A way to stay in Whiskey River without feeling like True was always and ever paying her way.

  “I. . .thank you, Kelsey.”

  “We won’t really get started until summer,” Kelsey cautioned, “but we’ll need a program in place. Zee said you’re good at organizing.”

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about being a topic, but was flattered at the assessment at the same time. “But. . .horses,” she said. “You know I know nothing.”

  “You can learn that. In fact, it might even help, if you were learning along with the kids. Besides,” Kelsey added as she patted the black horse on the shoulder, “you’ve already got Shadow’s approval. And that’s no small feat. And True’s,” she added, looking over Hope’s shoulder, “and you know that’s platinum around here.”

  She didn’t need to look to know he was coming up behind her. She’d swear she could feel him, sense him, anytime he was anywhere close. And when he was there she was quivering inside even before he leaned down and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck. It was quick, nothing blatant, but it was a claim as clear as the Texas sky was today.

  “Kelsey,” True said.

  The other woman smiled at him. “I just off
ered her a job. Convince her to take it, will you? She’s perfect for it.”

  “I’m not much of a replacement for a world-famous author.”

  “I think those kids care more right now that you’d know where they’re coming from,” Kelsey said. “Besides, Deck will still be doing the readings out at the house.”

  Hope looked at her curiously. “Don’t you worry about that? Having people at your home, knowing where you live, given he’s so famous?”

  Kelsey smiled at her. “I might. If we lived in L.A.”

  For an instant Hope wondered if Kelsey had meant that as a jab. Just as quickly she discarded the idea; Kelsey wasn’t the type.

  As soon as she thought it she went very still inside. That was twice in a matter of a few minutes that she had discarded the kind of thoughts that had been her constant companion on the run. Twice that she had had those hard-learned warnings pop into her mind and dismissed them as unnecessary here.

  Twice she had traded suspicion for trust.

  “Speaking of L.A.,” Kelsey said, glancing at True, who seemed to hesitate, then nodded. So he knew what Kelsey was going to say. “My mom is an attorney out there. She’s not on the criminal side, but she’s kind of a big deal at her firm. And they do have criminal attorneys.”

  Hope’s brow furrowed.

  “And Lisa Blaine is a force to be reckoned with,” True said.

  Hope’s gaze flicked from him back to Kelsey, who smiled. “I’m just saying, if and if and if, you’d need someone to stand for you, to advise you and protect your interests.”

  If and if and if.

  If you go back.

  Her gaze shot to True. He held hers steadily.

  “He only told me there was some trouble back there, which I’d already guessed,” Kelsey said quickly. “I’m not telling you what to do, only saying that if you decide to go back, my mom’s people can help.”

  Hope took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Shadow nickered, as if bored now with all the human discussion. With a nod to Hope, Kelsey turned to the horse and swung up—Hope didn’t quite see how—onto Shadow’s back and headed the horse toward the second corral that held the other rescue horses.

  “Does everybody in this town know I’m in trouble?” she muttered.

  “They know you have trouble,” True corrected. “And as you can see, they want to help.”

  She wasn’t sure how much of it was wanting to help her and how much was simply his standing in Whiskey River, but either way she was the beneficiary. And it was almost overwhelming after all the time spent on the run, suspicious of everyone and everything.

  They were back in his truck before he asked, “You going to take the job?”

  “I don’t know. I need to think.” About a lot of things.

  She was doing just that when she realized they had gone past the turn to the house. In fact, they’d left the entire neighborhood behind and were out in more rural country. Off to the right she could see the glint of sunlight on water, and guessed they must be paralleling the river. And then, on a dirt track she never would have seen had he not turned on it, they were headed toward the river.

  He stopped, and she realized they were parked at a bend in the river, a place where the flow slowed to a lazy meander before picking up again further down, over the shelves of limestone. It was a peaceful place, quiet, even the river silent here.

  “This is where I come to think,” he said quietly.

  “I can see why.”

  “Come on. There’s a place to sit down by the water, under the trees.”

  She’d noticed the stand of trees providing shade. “They still have leaves.”

  He nodded. “Anacua. Most people call them knockaway trees. They don’t shed leaves until spring.”

  “They smell wonderful.”

  “Wait until they flower in a couple of months.”

  Spring. Would she still be here?

  “They don’t need to be this close to water, they’re pretty drought tolerant,” he said. “But they sure seem to like it here.”

  She came to a halt when she saw the bench under the largest of the multi-trunked trees. She’d seen its twin, under a tree at Kelsey’s rescue.

  “You built it, didn’t you?” He merely shrugged. “Do you dismiss all the amazing things you do as if they were nothing special?”

  He gave her a startled look. “I. . .”

  “The answer is yes, you do.”

  “It’s just a bench,” he said.

  “I wasn’t,” she said quietly, “talking about the bench.”

  He started to answer, stopped. Gave a shake of his head. She sat down. He sat beside her. She was thankful that he didn’t speak as she stared out at the river, fattened by last week’s rain, this section looking cool and lazy. There was something about it that did help her think, go through all the tangled thoughts that had piled up in her mind.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there when she finally drew a long, deep breath. For a moment she closed her eyes. The image of her grandparents, seen for the first time in so long. . .

  Don’t write us off so easily. I remember a few things about fighting.

  Gramps. He had fought overseas in an Asian war, although he didn’t talk about it much, so she tended to forget that sometimes. Had she shortchanged him? Even insulted him by implying he couldn’t take care of himself and Gran?

  She heard them again, urging her to come home, that wonderful image forming in her mind so clearly she couldn’t help but smile. True had given her that, in a way that endangered no one. He’d sent a freaking rock star to do it. And the guy had done it, apparently no questions asked. For True.

  I will help you fight this.

  And he would. She knew that. But she finally faced what was wrong with that.

  When she opened her eyes again she turned to him, saw he’d been watching her. And for a moment she marveled at the steadiness she saw in him, the quiet strength that had been hard won, and had earned him the respect and liking of this entire town.

  And he loved her. She felt as if she’d been given some great honor, some award she’d never expected.

  In a way, she had.

  So now, belatedly, she would earn it. Because the inevitability had finally sunk in.

  It was true that this was not his battle to fight.

  And yet it was a battle that had to be fought.

  There was only one person who could do it. And if she was to ever feel she deserved this life, deserved him, the kind of man he was, she had to at least try. She had to do what he would do.

  She had to go back.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  She was gone.

  True stood listening to the silent house that confirmed what he’d known from the moment after he’d awakened to the full light of morning to find himself alone, and had realized all her things, and her worn backpack, were gone.

  Still he checked the guest room. He even tried to joke with himself, that maybe he’d started snoring last night and she’d had to retreat.

  Nothing. No sign she’d ever been here at all.

  It was the thought that had haunted him come to life. He remembered the day when he’d found her shopping list, and had wondered if one day he’d get up and find the house empty, had wondered if she’d even leave a note.

  The damned house practically echoed with the emptiness. She’d run again. Nothing he’d done or said had made any difference. What they could have built here, what they already had, hadn’t been enough.

  He suppressed a shiver. He’d sensed something different about her since the time they’d spent on the bench by the river. And last night she had been a wild thing, driving him raving mad with her hands, her mouth, her body. She had begged him to take her, then taken him in turn with a passion that had been more consuming than anything he’d ever felt in his life. She’d kindled a blaze that became an inferno, again and again, until he’d at last slipped into an exhausted sleep sometime after midnight.


  And now he knew what she’d been doing was saying goodbye.

  He’d made how he felt as clear as he could. He’d told her he would stand by her, whatever she decided. Whiskey River had welcomed her, he knew mostly on his say so—which he doubted now would ever be quite so solid. She’d had their love, a chance at a life, even a job thanks to Kelsey’s generosity. And it still hadn’t been enough to keep her from running.

  He hadn’t been enough. Just as he hadn’t been enough to beat back the evil that had taken Amanda.

  He sank down on the guest room bed. Rubbed a hand over his eyes. He couldn’t do this again. He felt as he had in those exhausting last days of Amanda’s illness, as if he couldn’t possibly take another step. And suddenly he was the one who wanted to run. Except that he knew no matter how far he went, there would be no escape.

  He didn’t have the strength anyway. He barely had the energy to go downstairs. And once he was down, he wanted nothing more than to go back up, because the first thing he saw was the door to Zee’s place.

  He’d have to tell her. Her, and Kelsey, and. . .everyone. And he didn’t know how to do it. He didn’t—

  He saw something out of the corner of his eye. Turned his head. A note, on the granite of the kitchen counter. Right where she’d left that shopping list on that day he’d just been thinking about.

  It took everything he had in him to cross those few feet of kitchen floor. He reached for the note—he could see the writing, knew it was hers—and then yanked his hand back.

  Not looking won’t change it. And it won’t bring her back.

  Thinking he already knew what it would say, he finally picked it up.

  True—

  I love you.

  What I did was the only path I could see, and I’ve never slowed down long enough to search for another. I’ve stayed that terrified teenager, doing the only thing she thought she could to protect the only people who had ever loved her. Run. And keep running.

  You’ve given me a taste of a life I never, ever hoped to have. But being with you, seeing who you are, has taught me one thing above all else: the only way to deal with a nightmare is to face it in the light of day. Like you do, every day of your life. And for that lesson I will be forever thankful. Just please, please be aware and stay safe, just in case. I could not bear anything happening to you because of me.