The Stranger and Tessa Jones

by Christine Rimmer

  “There you are, darling. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Dread curled through him, tightening like a noose. He knew he would have to turn and deal with her.

  Chapter Nine

  Did he turn and face the woman in the ballroom?

  He couldn’t remember. That part was lost to him. The dream had changed again, hadn’t it? It became…

  He didn’t know.

  He lay on his back next to Tessa, listening to the gentle rhythm of her breathing, and couldn’t recall what the dream became, couldn’t remember the rest. But at least he’d kept some of it this time: the corner office, the sister named Zoe. The ballroom and the woman who called him darling, the woman he didn’t want to deal with.

  And the name. His name. Ash.

  So Tessa had been right. Apparently his name was Ash. The gray, powdery stuff left over after everything burned to the ground. That was him. Ash.

  Beside him, Tessa stirred. The bed shifted as she rolled to her side, facing him. Her sleepy voice came to him, sweet as poured honey. “Bill?”

  He turned on his side, too. Under the blankets, he ran a hand along the smooth skin of her outer arm. “I’m right here.” He could have corrected her, told her he knew his name now and it was Ash, just as she’d tried to tell him before.

  But no. For now, at least, he preferred Bill. It was a good name. Simple. Uncomplicated. Clear.

  Her toe touched his leg, a teasing caress. He felt her hand on the side of his face.

  “I’m so glad,” she whispered.

  He felt a smile lift the corners of his mouth. “That I’m here?”

  “Uh-huh. Glad to wake up and find you beside me.” She turned to her other side and wiggled backward until she was snuggled in against him, spoon-fashion.

  Content in a way he knew now he’d never been before, he curled an arm around her waist and tucked her in closer, wrapping her in the warmth of his body.

  The next time Ash woke, he was on his other side, facing the nightstand and the clock. It was 8:32 a.m. The glowing digital numerals meant the power remained on.

  He got up and opened the curtains. Gray daylight again. The snow was still coming down, but not nearly as heavily as before. The wind had died down.

  From the bed, Tessa yawned and stretched. “I’ll check the phone…” She scooted over to the side of the bed he’d left vacant and grabbed the extension there. “Still out.” She set it down with a sigh.

  Ash tried not to feel relief. The snow piled up so high on the sill and the phone out of order meant more stolen, intimate hours he would have with her.

  They showered together, which led to lovemaking. Then they had breakfast, let the dog out, brought the dog back in.

  And went back to bed to make love some more.

  Outside, by late morning, the snow had stopped falling. They watched the local news at noon. Still nothing about a man going missing near Highway 49. But they did learn that the storm had officially passed. Road crews were out and on the job, clearing the highway.

  “They’ll be plowing the side roads by tomorrow morning, I’ll bet,” Tessa said. “And that means we’ll most likely be able to get out by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Great.” He made an effort to sound enthusiastic. It was a good thing, to get out, to try and get more answers than a few disjointed dreams had given him.

  But already he felt a heaviness inside himself, a kind of mourning for the private world they’d made, just the two of them, alone in her house, with hours and hours of time together. With no interruptions from the world outside.

  That night, in bed, he asked for more stories about her family. She told him about her uncles, Jared and Brendan. Both of them were happily married, with kids. Jared’s wife, Eden, ran The Hole in the Wall Saloon and The Mercantile Grill next door to it.

  “Hold on a minute,” he said. “You said your grandpa and grandma had three sons.”

  “And they did. Jared, my dad and Brendan.”

  “What about Jack? He’s on your mother’s side?”

  “No. Uncle Jack wasn’t Grandma Bathsheba’s. He’s Grandpa Oggie’s son, from before my grandpa met my grandma. And Jack’s last name is Roper, his stepfather’s name. Uncle Jack married an heiress, Olivia Larrabee. He was a private investigator at the time and her rich daddy hired him to keep an eye on her when she busted loose from her father’s control and decided to live life on her own. She came here to North Magdalene totally by accident. And Uncle Jack was on her trail. Turned out she’d led him to the home of the father he never knew he had.”

  Ash groaned. “Come on, Tessa.”

  “What? God’s truth. It happened just that way.”

  “It’s a little far-fetched, that she would come here with no clue it was where his long-lost natural father lived. It’s too coincidental.”

  “What can I tell you? Life. Stranger than fiction and that is no lie.”

  They’d left the curtains open and the half moon shone through the cloud cover, giving her skin a silvery glow, leaching the gold from her hair so it shone platinum across the pillow.

  “I never want to leave here,” he confessed in a whisper. “I want to stay here with you, like this, forever.”

  The window was behind her, casting her face in shadow, so he couldn’t read her expression. He heard her soft sigh. She didn’t reply, only found his hand under the blankets and twined her fingers tight with his.

  He woke in the morning to the sound of an engine—roaring and then fading off a little, laboring nearer.

  Tessa popped to a sitting position, clutching the sheet against her breasts, shoving her hair back out of her eyes. “Do you hear that?” At his nod, she crowed, “It’s the snowplow and it’s coming up my driveway!”

  They got dressed fast and went out to wave at the plow driver, who honked his horn and gave them an answering wave.

  Ash felt vaguely ridiculous in his borrowed purple sweats and smooth-soled boots as the driver plowed forward, reversed, and plowed forward again, gradually forming a turnaround, until he was headed back the way he’d come. With a final wave, he drove off down the freshly cleared road to the highway, disappearing into the trees.

  Tessa turned to him, beaming. “We are out of here today.” They went inside and she checked the phone. “Nothing yet.” She put it back in its cradle.

  They ate a quick breakfast and then went out with shovels to clear the short path to her Subaru. With no other shoes around that fit him, Ash had to do his shoveling in the slick-soled boots he’d arrived in. He slipped a lot as they worked. But the activity was bracing, after being housebound for three days. His headache was long-gone and his body was healing already from the mysterious battering it had taken.

  He felt good. Strong. More or less ready to take on the big world out there.

  It took about forty-five minutes of heavy shoveling, but they got the path cleared to the driveway. By then, they were both panting, breathless from the job. Tessa’s nose and cheeks were red. And her lips, too. He watched her, thinking that he’d like to be kissing her.

  And what about a snowball fight? That could be fun.

  When she bent to scoop up a last shovelful, he grabbed a handful of the cold white stuff and held it out of sight at his side.

  “Tessa?”

  The shovel scraped concrete, and she threw that final shovelful out of the way. “Whew.” She leaned on the handle, her breath pluming in the air. “Hmm?”

  He stepped up, grabbed the collar of her purple jacket and dropped the snow down her back.

  She let out a shriek. “Oh, you! I’ll get you…” Her shovel clattered to the frozen driveway as she bent to grab a big mittenful of snow.

  He let go of his shovel, too, put up both hands and backed the way they had come, slipping on the icy ground a little, but managing to stay on his feet. “Now, Tessa. Be calm…”

  With another shriek, she fired the snowball. It hit him square in the jaw.

  He wiped it away. “You sh
ouldn’t have done that.”

  “Oh, yeah. I should.”

  “You are going to be so, so sorry…”

  She laughed. “Hah!” Grabbing snow, forming another ball of ammunition, she backed away.

  And he came toward her, grabbing his own snowball. They fired simultaneously. He hit her in the nose. She got him on the cheekbone.

  With a cry, she turned and started for the driveway. He gave chase, forgetting that his boots weren’t made for running on ice. He slipped. And then went down, legs out, landing on his backside.

  She turned and saw him and started to laugh.

  “That’s it,” he growled. “Wait till I get up from here. You will pay, Tessa Jones. You will pay…”

  Still laughing, she came to him and held down a hand. “Come on. Be nice. Forgive and forget.”

  He reached up, took hold—and pulled her down on top of him.

  She shrieked again in surprise and punched him in the shoulder. “That’s what I get for trying to help you.”

  He let his head rest on the cold concrete. “It’s nice here.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, yeah. Flat on your back on a frozen driveway.”

  “Don’t complain. You have me between you and the concrete.”

  “True.” Those light-hazel eyes twinkled. “Being on top never felt better.”

  “Down here, though, I’m really starting to feel the cold.”

  “So let’s get up.”

  He banded an arm around her, holding her down. “A kiss first. That would really warm me up.”

  She shook her head. And then she giggled. And then she lowered her mouth to his.

  Her lips were cold. But they quickly turned warm. And beyond them, she was hot and slick and wet as ever. He could have lain there for decades, kissing her.

  But then she lifted her head. “Come on. I mean it. We need to get up before that fine backside of yours freezes solid.”

  Reluctantly, he released her. She rose and held down a hand again. He took it and she helped him rise. They were just turning for the house when they heard tires crunching gravel and the rough rumble of an engine. A battered, old pickup was turning into the driveway.

  Tessa turned toward the sound. “Wouldn’t you know it?”

  “Who is it?”

  “My grandfather, Oggie Jones.”

  The pickup came to a stop a few feet from where they stood. The ancient character inside rolled down the crank window. “Hey there, Tessy. How you holdin’ up?”

  “Tessa,” she corrected. “And Grandpa, I’m fine. Just fine.”

  The old guy grunted. “Well, Tessy. You’ll be pleased to know that everyone else in the family is A-Okay, too.”

  “I’m sure you’ve checked on all of them.” Ash noticed she didn’t correct the old man again for calling her Tessy. There was probably no point in it. Oggie Jones didn’t seem the kind who responded to correction.

  “Yes, I have checked on everyone. Closer in, the phones are back on, but when I tried your number, it was still out.”

  “I’m sure it’ll come on soon.”

  “I thought I better come on over and make sure about you, just the same.”

  “Thanks—but really, everything’s okay.”

  Oggie stuck a chewed-looking cigar stub between his teeth and poked his arm out the window to give the truck door a whack. “Can’t believe how bad the road is. Couldn’t get my El Dorado out of the driveway. Had to fire up the old pickup.” He gunned the engine, which sputtered and then roared as he squinted in Ash’s direction. Eventually, he took his foot off the gas. His wrinkled forehead beetled up. “This that boyfriend of yours from Napa?”

  Ash stepped up before Tessa could reveal more than he wanted known. “Bill,” he said firmly. “How’re you doing?” He pulled off the work glove Tessa had loaned him and offered his hand.

  The old guy grabbed it and gave it a good pump. “Well, what d’you know? The man from Napa makes an appearance at last.” He took the smashed stub of cigar from the corner of his mouth and gave the nonexistent ash a flick. “You ain’t exactly what I expected, if you don’t mind my sayin’. ‘Cept for the purple sweatpants. They seem about right.”

  “Grandpa!” Tessa was blushing. “Be nice.”

  “I’m always nice.” The old guy had a few wisps of wiry white fringe above his ears. The rest of his head was shiny as a bowling ball. His heavy, worn-looking green jacket was open. Ash caught a glimpse of a grimy flannel shirt and red suspenders. “What’d you do to your head?”

  “I tripped and fell.”

  “Ah,” the old man replied. “Gotta be more careful.”

  “You’re right. I will.”

  “Tessy here’s the nicest of all my grandkids,” the old man announced. “Such a sweet gal. She wanted to be a nun when she was a girl. Glad she gave that up. Bet you are, too.” He wiggled his bushy brows.

  “I am. Real glad.” Ash put an arm around Tessa, who looked like she couldn’t wait for her grandfather to turn his old pickup around and head back the way he’d come.

  The old man kept talking. “Naw, Tessy ain’t nun material. Tessy’s strong and capable. And would you look at those hips? She was made for the hot, sweet lovin’ of a good man, meant to raise a passel of fine children…”

  “Grandpa,” said Tessa much too pleasantly. “You talk too much.”

  Oggie didn’t argue the point. “Always have, always will.” Passel? Ash was thinking. Did people still say words like passel? “And how come we’re all hanging around out here in the cold? Let’s go on inside. You can fix me up a cup of hot coffee to warm these old bones.”

  Tessa was frowning again. “Grandpa, I’m sorry, but right now we’re in kind of a hurry.” Ash knew what came next: all about how they were headed over to the clinic to see what could be done about the problem with his brain.

  He caught her hand—and cut her off. “Coffee,” he said firmly. “Tessa. Your grandfather came all the way over here. We can certainly have him in and give him some coffee.”

  “But…Bill.” She threw him a look he was careful not to catch. “You know that we really should get to the—”

  “Coffee,” declared Oggie. “Won’t take but a few minutes.” The pickup’s door swung wide with a rusty squeak. The old man reached for a cane propped up on the passenger seat and swung himself out and down to the slippery ground. “Give me a hand here, you two. I ain’t as steady on my feet as I used to be.”

  Inside, there was coffee left from breakfast—still hot, too. With the power restored, Tessa had gone back to using an electric coffee maker. Oggie hobbled to the table and pulled out a chair. He propped his cane close at hand, but kept his jacket on. “Lots of sugar, Tessy.”

  “I know, I know.” She put a full mug in front of him and slid the sugar close as Ash grabbed a chair.

  Oggie spooned in half the contents of the sugar bowl and slurped up a big sip. “Ah. That’s good. That’s real good.” He swung his rheumy gaze Ash’s way. “So. You drove up from the wine country Saturday, did you?”

  “Yeah. Lucky for me, I made it before the snow got too bad.”

  “Where’s your car? Don’t see it out there…” Oggie peered out the window as if expecting the missing vehicle to materialize from thin air.

  Ash shared a glance with Tessa. She started to speak.

  He beat her to it. “I got some time off work. But my car’s been acting up. Lucky for me, a friend of mine was coming this way. He dropped me off Saturday before noon.”

  “Made it just before the storm closed in, eh?”

  “Lucky for me, huh?”

  “So how long you here for?”

  “It’s…open-ended.”

  “But you’re staying for the wedding, right?”

  Ash remembered: the wedding that the real Bill had promised to attend with Tessa. “That’s right. I’ll be here for Tawny and Parker’s wedding. Really looking forward to that.”

  The old man gave a cackle. “Oh, I’ll just b
et.” He turned to Tessa, who leaned against the sink counter, arms crossed over her chest. “Good coffee, Tessy” He saluted her with the mug.

  She leveled a look on him that said his welcome was swiftly wearing out. “Enjoy.”

  He winked at Ash. “She gets fed up with me. They all get fed up with me. But they love me, just the same. I’m one of a kind, you just ask anyone.”

  “I can see that,” said Ash.

  The old man leaned a forearm on the table and canted toward Ash. “So, Bill. How old you think I am? Go ahead, take a guess.”

  Tessa let out a heavy sigh. “Grandpa, just tell him, why don’t you?”

  Oggie ignored her. “Go on. Guess.”

  Old, Ash thought. Really, really old. “Eighty-five?”

  The old man crowed in delight and pounded a hand on the tabletop. “Ninety-one. And still going strong—so how d’you like our beautiful mountains?”

  “A lot. I like them a lot.”

  “Tessy should take you out hiking if it warms up a little and the snow melts down some. Nothin’ like a long hike up into the high elevations to get the blood pumping and the attitude adjusted.”

  Ash nodded. “We’ll have to do that. Won’t we, Tessa?”

  Tessa folded her arms even tighter. “Yeah. Great idea.”

  The old man drained his mug and set it down hard. “All right, all right. I know you got a million things you need to be doing.” He grabbed for his cane and pushed himself upright. “Good to meet you, Bill.”

  “Same here, Oggie.”

  “You treat my Tessy right.”

  “I will.”

  “And take my advice.”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t go wearing those purple sweatpants around town.”

  They helped Tessa’s grandfather back out to the pickup and stood waving as he drove away.

  She turned to him once the old truck rumbled from sight. “I thought he’d never go. Just let me grab my purse and keys and we’ll get over to the clinic.”