To Love, Honor and Defend

by Beth Cornelison

  Her shoulders slumped, and she blinked back tears. She wanted Cal, needed his comfort and strength. Realizing that Cal had found a way back into her heart frightened her more than the psycho stalking her.

  Maybe she’d never truly gotten Cal out of her system. Maybe that’s why being around him hurt so much.

  Either way, she was in more danger than being stalked. Every minute she was near Cal chipped away her ability to resist his lure. She had to get away. She needed time to think, room to breathe, distance from the temptation of falling into bed with her husband.

  Her temporary husband. Her in-name-only husband. Her broke-her-heart-before husband.

  Gulping oxygen into her tightening lungs, Libby jammed her boxing gloves in her gym bag and hurried out of class.

  Stan had a cabin near Lake D’Arbonne. He’d told her where he stashed a spare key and issued a blanket invitation for whenever she needed to get away.

  That time had come. She’d call Cal from the road, explain to him she needed to sort things out. She wasn’t hiding, wasn’t running from her troubles. She wasn’t.

  Her conscience needled her. At least be honest with yourself.

  She tossed her gym bag on the back seat of her Camry and slammed the door.

  Okay, you want honest? I’m honestly running scared. Scared of the lunatic who knows my every move. Scared of falling in love with a man who’ll have no use for me after he gets custody of his daughter. Scared I’ve lost all control over my life, and I’m headed for disaster.

  Libby left the parking lot and headed toward the rural highway that led to Stan’s cabin. In the cool night, a dense fog had settled on the landscape, obscuring her view of the road.

  What was she supposed to do? Where were the rules to guide her? There is no black-and-white anymore.

  She squinted into the blanket of mist shrouding her path. Gray. Libby’s palms grew damp, and she struggled for a breath.

  My whole life has turned gray.

  Chapter 11

  The next morning, a gray mist swirled over the surface of Lake D’Arbonne while a great blue heron waded along the edge of the murky water, hunting his breakfast. Sitting on a homemade pine bench, Libby tucked her knees into her chest and leaned against the splintered wood rail of Stan’s boat dock. The cold, damp air made her nose run and goosebumps pop up on her arms, but the tranquil scenery held Libby in thrall. Unable to sleep on the cabin’s lumpy bed, thoughts of Cal tumbling through her head, Libby had rolled out from under the covers before dawn. She’d grabbed her coat and her cell phone and made it to her waterside post just as the sun peeked over the trees on the opposite shore.

  Now, two hours later, the splash of fish gulping bugs on the water’s surface and the peep of waking birds renewed a calm deep inside her. She inhaled the clean air and replayed her conversation with Cal from last night, when she’d told him where she was going.

  “Are you out of you mind?” he’d railed. “You have a maniac trying to kill you and you take off for the boonies alone?”

  “Only you and Stan know I’m here. I’ll be fine. And I’ll be back by tomorrow night. I just need…to think.”

  Cal grunted. “And you can’t think somewhere in town? Somewhere I can keep an eye on you?”

  “I don’t need your protection.”

  “You’ve got it, anyway. I won’t sit back and let this guy hurt you.” His frustration crackled through the phone line. “I’m coming out there. Where is this cabin?”

  “You can’t. It’s outside your parole jurisdiction. Besides, Stan knows how to get here if there’s a need. Okay?”

  Cal cursed. “No, it’s not okay. I want you here. I want you safe.”

  Libby thought of the dangers waiting at home. Cal’s hypnotic eyes, his fiery kiss, his soothing touch. “I’m safe here.” Far away from you, away from temptation. “I promise to keep my cell phone close by. All right?”

  As if on cue, her phone trilled, ending last night’s conversation in her mind and startling a cardinal from the dock railing. Digging in her coat pocket, she answered the call.

  “We have Ally today,” Cal said without preamble. “Her preschool’s closed for some kind of teacher in-service, and her day care said the drop-in slots for today are all full.”

  The sound of his voice swept through her, stirring a sweet vibration in her blood. Libby lowered her feet from the bench and stretched a kink in her back. “I don’t remember any mention of this before.”

  “Because there was none. Renee forgot to tell me. Drugs will foul up your memory. Probably forgot about it herself until she got to school and was turned away.” A deep grumble filled the airwaves. “I’m supposed to be at work in two hours. What am I supposed to do with Ally?”

  Libby stood and dusted the seat of her sweatpants. “You’re sure this isn’t a ploy to get me home earlier?”

  “It’s no ploy, Lib. But if it brings you home sooner, fine.”

  She headed up the dock to the leaf-strewn path back to the cabin. A cup of hot coffee sounded good now that she’d greeted the sunrise. “What if I weren’t taking the day off? I can’t always drop things to baby-sit like I did last week. We need to have a contingency plan for situations like this. Now’s as good a time as any to find an alternate solution.”

  “Such as?”

  Libby shuffled the damp leaves with her feet as she strolled up the path through the woods. She inhaled deeply the refreshing, earthy scents of decaying foliage, dew and clean air. “Find another day care that allows drop-ins. Or call Mrs. Russell next door. Her number’s written on the front of the phone book. She might watch Ally for a while. And the people across the street, the Everetts, have a daughter in high school who could come in the afternoon.”

  “Everett. Got it.” Cal paused, pitched his voice low. “I still want you home, though. I didn’t sleep a wink last night worrying about you.”

  She imagined the intensity that came into his eyes when he used that tone. Deep-sea blue. Piercing. So alluring.

  She considered telling him that thoughts of him had kept her up, too. But worry hadn’t been the cause of her lost sleep. The achy, pulsing restlessness hummed to life inside her again. Damn it, just talking to him, hearing his voice, made her body thrum.

  She picked up her pace back to the cabin. She needed that caffeine. Now. “Melissa.”

  “What?”

  She cleared her throat and stepped over a fallen tree in her path. “The Everett’s daughter is Melissa. I think she’s sixteen. She doesn’t get home from school until about two, so she’s not the best choice. I’d try Mrs. Rus—”

  Something moved in her peripheral vision. She stopped, heart thumping, and scanned the woods.

  “Lib, you there?”

  “Yeah, I…thought I saw something. I—”

  The rhythmic snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves filtered through the morning silence. Footsteps. Her mouth grew arid.

  “Someone’s out there,” she murmured. She stood, rooted with fear, while the sense of being watched crawled up her spine.

  Her skin flashed cold then hot then icy as the rustle of leaves and crack of branches echoed around her. Turning slowly, she tried to pinpoint the source. Shadows shifted as trees swayed in the murmuring breeze.

  “Cal?” she whispered, her throat dry.

  “I’m still here. Libby, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I…don’t think I’m alone.”

  His response singed the airwaves. “Get out of there. Now!”

  Legs shaking, she stumbled to a run. Her scrambling steps over the uneven earth jarred the breath from her lungs.

  A flash of blue through the winter-bare branches caught her eye, brought her up short. “Who’s there?”

  No reply.

  “This is private property, and you’re trespassing!” she called, hoping the intruder was just a kid, a hunter, a trick of her imagination. If only Cal were here rather than on her phone. If only she’d listened when he’d told her to carry her g
un with her. If only—

  “Damn it, Libby, get the hell out of there!” Cal shouted over the phone.

  Suiting his words to action, she bolted toward the cabin. She slipped in the dry leaves and pine needles that littered the ground. Her breathing ragged, she flew up the sagging wood steps to the porch. She burst through the front door, eager to gather her few possessions and be gone. Still clutching her cell phone, clinging to that small contact with Cal, she snatched her gym bag from the floor, tossed it on the bed.

  And screamed.

  A voodoo doll lay on her pillow, a penknife through the heart. Crimson stains covered the crude likeness of a woman, the sort sold as souvenirs to tourists in New Orleans voodoo shops. Beside the doll, a blue envelope poked out from under her gym bag. The cell phone slipped from her trembling hand, clattered to the floor.

  “Libby! Libby, answer me!”

  She heard Cal’s voice as if through a tunnel.

  Backing from the bed, gasping for oxygen, she stared at the gruesome warning. She didn’t need to read the note. The message was clear.

  Her stalker had followed her. Found her. Watched her.

  She groped blindly on the table by the door for her keys.

  “Libby!”

  Cal’s panicked voice shook her from her trance. Swiping the phone from the floor, she raised it to her ear. “He left a message. Oh, God, he followed me here! How else could he have known where…?”

  But if he’d followed her, why not strike last night? Why wait until morning?

  Numbly, she lifted her purse strap to her shoulder and edged out the front door. She fled the cabin, racing for her car. Abandoning her gym bag. Wanting only to get away before her stalker returned to make good his threat.

  “Hang up…call 9-1-1,” Cal said, the tremble of anxiety ringing in his voice. “Get the cops out there. If he’s still nearby, maybe they can track him.”

  “No, don’t go!” she cried. “I need you now.” Even if only the reassurance of your voice. “I’m leaving. I’ll call the cops once I’m out of here.” Libby jogged around the corner of the cabin to the drive where she’d parked her car. “Right now, I need to hear you. I need—”

  With a gasp, she skidded to a halt. “Oh, no!”

  “Judas priest, Libby! I’m going crazy here!” Cal’s voice rasped over the line. “What’s happened? Are you all right?”

  Libby gripped the phone tighter, her lifeline to Cal. She forced air through her constricted throat and crept back toward the safety of the cabin. Her body shook, and icy prickles nipped her skin. Her gaze darted about, and she scanned the line of trees surrounding her. “I’m o-okay, but—”

  As she edged backward, she stumbled on a root and landed hard on her bottom.

  “But what? Libby, talk to me!”

  She dragged in a shuddering breath. “I can’t leave. My tires are slashed.”

  Cal paced the living room, wearing a path on Libby’s Persian rug, and waited. Waited for the sound of Libby pulling in the front drive. Waited for another call, another chance to hear Libby’s voice. Waited for the opportunity to hold her and reassure himself she was all right.

  Something. Anything. But if the waiting wasn’t enough, the sense of helplessness, his complete inability to do anything to help her, sucked outright. As soon as he’d heard Libby’s tires had been slashed, he’d been on the phone to the police, hating that he couldn’t go to her himself. His parole terms chafed like a pair of too-tight manacles.

  He hadn’t found anyone to watch Ally yet. He was going to be late for work, possibly get fired. And he had an ulcer the size of Louisiana gnawing inside him from worry.

  But none of that mattered. Only Libby mattered at that moment. Her safety. Having her back in his arms. Even though she’d called to check in with him an hour ago from the car mechanic’s shop where they were replacing her tires, he was still insane with worry. She’d insisted she was all right, for him not to worry, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he could touch her, see her, hold her.

  “Look, Daddy. I made a picture of Jewel.” Ally held up the paper she’d been coloring on and grinned.

  He gave his daughter the best smile he could, but it felt brittle, tense. “That’s great, kitten. You’re a real artist.”

  Ally clambered off the floor where she worked and flopped onto the sofa, next to the sleeping cat. She stroked Jewel’s fur and grinned brighter. “She’s purring. I think she likes me.”

  The phone rang, jangling his taut nerves, and he pounced on the receiver like Jewel jumping on a mouse. “Libby? Is that you? Where are you?”

  “Uh…no, sorry,” said the man on the phone. “This is Reyn Erikson of the Clairmont volunteer fire department. You’d left a message earlier about being on call for us?”

  Disappointment zinged through Cal even though he’d normally be thrilled to talk about getting on the roster with the volunteer firefighters. “Oh, right. I did.”

  “Great. I understand you’ve got ten years’ experience? That’s awesome. I’ve talked to your parole officer and cleared your hire with the town council. We’re a bit shorthanded and still battling drought conditions in the region. So I’ll put you on the call list and get you a pager as soon as we can. Let me make sure I’ve got your contact info correct and—”

  “I…listen, can I call you later today? I need to keep this line free.”

  Cal watched Ally pop up from the couch and cross to the front window, where she peered out.

  “Oh, sure. You’ve still got my number?” Reyn asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve got it. And thanks. It’ll be good to get back to firefighting.” He heard the rumble of a car engine as he hung up.

  “Libby’s home!” Ally bounced on her toes and clapped.

  Cal crossed the room in three strides and tossed the curtain back to see for himself. When Libby stepped out of her Camry, relief crashed through him. His kinked muscles loosened so suddenly, his knees nearly buckled. He met Libby at the door and swept her into his arms the second she walked in the house.

  He crushed her to his chest, and she clung just as tightly to him, shaking all over and gulping shallow breaths.

  “Oh, God! I was so scared,” she whispered.

  He sank his fingers deep into her thick hair and buried his face in the silky veil. “Not half as scared as I was, not knowing what was happening to you.”

  Her fingers dug into his back, and she canted even closer, her soft curves molding to his hard lines. The press of her body reassured him she was alive, calmed the raging panic that clawed him. And set his blood on fire.

  He needed her with a possessive ache, wanted her so much he hurt. But the deepest pain wasn’t rooted in his groin. His heart felt like the Grinch’s, suddenly growing too large to fit his chest. He’d believed himself in love with her years ago, but she’d never been so ingrained in his heart and mind that he feared a part of himself would die if he lost her.

  Framing her face with his hands, he angled her head and claimed her lips. His kiss was not gentle. Not patient. He slaked the remnants of hours on the edge of sanity, waiting for news, praying she was safe. Teeth clashed, tongues dueled, passions rose. And Libby kissed him in equal measure, greedily devouring what he offered.

  “Hey, Libby, look at the picture I made. You can have it if you want.” Ally’s voice filtered through the carnal haze that swallowed him.

  Libby pulled away abruptly, panting and bleary-eyed. Blinking twice, she pivoted to face his daughter and clearly struggled to focus on the paper Ally held.

  “Um, it’s lovely, sweetie.” She cleared the husky timbre from her throat and gave Ally a strained smile.

  “It’s Jewel. See?” Ally held the picture next to the cat curled on the couch.

  Libby gave a hiccupping laugh, her eyes bright with a sheen of moisture. “I see. Very good.”

  Her hand fluttered to her chest and searched for buttons that weren’t there to twist. Sliding his hands up the dip of her waist, Cal caught her wrists
to still them and pressed a kiss to her palms.

  She met his eyes, and the message telegraphed in her heated gaze was clear—the fire burning inside them would have to wait. They couldn’t make sizzling love to each other with Ally playing in the next room. Impatience and frustration torqued his nerves like a guitar string wound too tight. Something had to give, or he’d break.

  He rested his forehead against Libby’s and sighed. “I haven’t called Mrs. Russell yet. I wanted to keep the phone free in case you called.”

  She nodded, shuddered. “The police didn’t get him. He must have heard me on the phone and run, knowing the cops were coming. They took the voodoo doll as evidence and were dusting the cabin for prints when the tow truck came. A deputy drove me to the tire place to wait for my car. The slashed tires are evidence, too.” She closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck.

  Drawing her back into his arms, Cal pressed his lips to her temple and growled, “Damn it, Libby. Don’t ever do something so foolish again. If you’d been killed…”

  She trembled, and he didn’t finish the thought, didn’t want to see that horror to an end.

  Libby tugged free of his hold and walked over to the sofa, where she sank next to Jewel with a sigh. “Hadn’t you better get to work before you’re fired?”

  “I can call in sick, stay here with you if—”

  “I’m all right now. Really.”

  Ally sidled up to Libby and flopped against her for a hug. Libby pulled the little girl in tight and closed her eyes.

  “I don’t want to leave you if you think…” He rubbed his hands on his jeans. Who was he kidding? He wanted to stay for himself. Because he wanted to hold Libby and never let go.

  But clearly she didn’t need him as much as he needed her. A bad place to be. If leaving her had hurt him before, having her push him away now would be agony. Better to rein himself in. Put on the brakes before he crashed.

  “I’ll be back about eight. Will you take care of finding a babysitter?”

  Libby shot him a look that said, I am in control. I’ll handle it. Cool, efficient Libby. So fiercely independent and capable. So what did she need him for?