by Gerri Hill
The older woman rose and walked to Jake, offering her hand. “A real pleasure, Detective. I understand we have you to thank for Nicole’s safety.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Just doing my job.” Jake looked at Nicole, noting her amused expression. “You got a minute?”
“Of course. Dorothy, we’ll continue this later?”
“Sure. Call me.” She nodded at Jake. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Thanks.”
Nicole closed the door, leaning against it as she watched Jake. “In the neighborhood?”
“No, not really,” Jake admitted. She turned, leaning on her cane as she surveyed the office. It looked as she remembered— neat, organized, and blinds raised to let in the afternoon sun. “Actually, I came to say good-bye.”
Nicole shoved off the wall. “What do you mean?”
“Cheyenne and I are moving to my cabin.”
“Moving? For good?”
Jake shrugged. “Most likely. Rick’s moved to my place since they’re selling their house, so I don’t have to worry about that. He’s just going to pick up my lease.”
Nicole struggled to find words. “But… but why?”
“Well, it saves him having to find a place.”
Nicole shook her head. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
Jake shifted her weight, still leaning on her cane. A part of her wanted to tell Nicole the truth, that she was leaving to get away from her feelings, having convinced herself that once she was at the cabin, she’d realize that what she felt for Nicole wasn’t really love, it was just a physical attraction that got away from them. But of course, she’d never been one to share her feelings easily, and there was really no need to start now.
“The cabin’s home. You’ve seen my place here, you know that. Besides, I’ll never be at full strength, so I’m going to take the disability this time.”
“And do what?”
“Rehab up there, then… I don’t know. I’ll find something to keep me busy.” She tried to smile. “I’ll have a lot of time to soak in the hot springs.”
Nicole met her eyes, hoping Jake didn’t see the panic in her own. Despite her vow to end things, she was scared about Jake leaving. Worse, she was terrified of the possibility of never seeing Jake again. “But Jake, are you strong enough now? I mean, just you and Cheyenne? Anything could happen.”
“Worried about me?”
“Yes, actually.”
Jake looked away. “I’ll be fine. It’s my second go-round, you know.”
Nicole took a deep breath. “This is just a shock, I guess.”
Jake lowered her head. “Nicole, it’s not like we’ve seen much of each other the last month. You won’t even know I’m gone.”
Nicole felt the pain in her heart, and she tried hard to conceal it. “I’ll know you’re gone.”
Their eyes met, and Jake tried desperately to read Nicole’s, hoping to find some sign that Jake was important to her, that she cared for her. But the blue eyes that met her own were nearly expressionless, as if it wasn’t the same Nicole. And of course, it wasn’t. This Nicole was decked out in a dark suit and pumps, even her makeup was impeccable. No, this wasn’t her Nicole.
“Anyway, I just stopped off to say good-bye and to wish you well.” Jake moved toward the door, hoping to make a graceful exit. “Take care of yourself, Nicole.”
Nicole finally moved, walking to Jake. “Take care of yourself, too.” She leaned closer and gently placed a kiss on Jake’s cheek. “I’ll never forget you,” she murmured, before turning away, hiding her eyes from Jake.
Jake escaped before she embarrassed herself totally by the tears that were threatening to fall. She knocked lightly on Catherine’s desk as she passed, not stopping to look at her. “See you around, kiddo.”
“ ‘Bye Jake.”
Once safely inside the elevator, Jake allowed her emotions to take over, and the tears flowed by the time she walked out into the cold November day.
———
Nicole covered her mouth, trying to keep back her tears. She walked to the window, staring down at the street, looking for Jake and not finding her.
“Oh, God,” she murmured, finally giving in to her pain and letting her tears fall unchecked down her face. Her hands were shaking badly as she fumbled in her desk drawer for a tissue. Was she making a mistake by letting Jake walk out of her life?
She knew it was totally her decision. She could see that in Jake’s eyes. After all, she was the one who had simply stopped seeing Jake, stopped going to the hospital, stopped calling her. But as Dorothy had said, it was time to get her life back to normal, her practice back to normal. And as long as she continued to see Jake, continued to pretend they might have a future together, then nothing would be normal.
Then why does it hurt so much? Because you’re in love with her.
“No,” she murmured as she blew her nose. No, no, she wasn’t in love with her. At least she’d held on to her sanity enough not to do something as foolish as that. No, she would be fine. Jake was gone, and Nicole had to move on. In fact, the dinner party at Irene’s tonight would be the perfect cure for her heavy heart. And of course, Irene had a new attorney friend she wanted Nicole to meet.
So, she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, wondering how badly her makeup was damaged. It wouldn’t do for Catherine to see her tears. Despite her earlier assumptions that Deb Fisher was her type, Nicole knew Catherine adored Jake, knew that she thought Jake was… was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
Nicole closed her eyes for a moment, remembering Jake’s gentle touch and her torrid lovemaking. Unconsciously, she brought her right hand to her chest, rubbing lightly against her heart.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
As the bitter cold of February gave way to brilliant sunshine in March, Jake laced up her hiking boots, deciding to chance a midday walk without the snowshoes she’d used for most of the winter. And instead of the ski poles she’d been using, she grabbed her cane. Common sense told her she shouldn’t risk it, the trail would still be slippery, but she nearly ached to put some normalcy back into her life.
“Ready?”
Cheyenne’s ears perked up, and she bounded off the sofa, waiting impatiently at the door for Jake to slip a water bottle into her waist pack. As soon as she was outside, Cheyenne leapt off the deck and into the snow, chasing a squirrel that had ventured too close to the cabin. Jake smiled as the squirrel found the nearest branch to perch upon, fussing incessantly at the dog that sniffed along the base of the tree.
Jake glanced up once into the sun, then slipped on sunglasses before stepping gingerly off the deck. She rarely ventured outside without snowshoes, feeling that her balance was better in the snow with the extra large shoes. That and the ski poles she always used.
But today, in the forty-degree temperatures and bright sunshine, she’d attempt a normal hike, without the cumbersome poles. They hadn’t had snow in the last week, and the path they normally took into the forest was well-worn and nearly snow-free. She let Cheyenne take the lead, as she always did, and followed behind slowly, not wanting to push herself too hard.
She’d finished her physical therapy in late January and had been diligently continuing the exercises she’d learned. Her leg felt better, not great, but better. She endured the throbbing pain after each hike, occasionally having to resort to the pain pills she still kept by her bed. As before, the pain pills helped her sleep, helped her keep her dreams at bay. But instead of a little boy visiting her dreams, this time it was the touch of a woman she couldn’t seem to shake. Nicole’s face, her voice—they were as fresh in Jake’s memory as if she were right here with them. But in her mind, Nicole was as Jake loved her, in jeans and boots, and the baggy sweatshirt she’d worn that last morning. Not in one of her neat suits, dressed for the office and her powerful friends.
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to chase Nicole from her mind. During the dark nights of winter, she’d li
terally ached for her. At the very least, she’d expected a phone call or two, just to check up on her. But Ricky and Steven were the only ones who called, never Nicole. Jake had finally stopped hoping to see her name come up on caller ID.
Jake opened her eyes again, pushing back the sadness and trying to find peace in the bright sunshine and clear blue sky. She listened, hearing the chatter of a mountain chickadee. She let her mind go blank, absorbing the sounds around her—the wind as it carried the hint of spring through the trees, the squirrel that barked at her from a low-hanging spruce branch, the screaming call of a Steller’s jay farther along the trail.
Jake smiled as Cheyenne came back down the path, looking for her. Her intelligent eyes met Jake’s, and she cocked her head sideways, waiting.
“I’m fine,” she told the dog. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
Nicole moved between the throng of guests that crowded into Dorothy’s spacious living room. She had expected a small dinner party, not this lavish affair with nearly thirty women. She smiled politely at a tuxedoed waiter who offered her a glass of wine. She found Irene, her red hair standing out in the crowd, and made her way toward her friend.
“You’re late,” Irene accused. “Dorothy was afraid you’d be a no-show.”
“I’m surprised she missed me in this crowd.” Nicole leaned closer. “I don’t know half these woman. Who are they? New recruits?”
Irene laughed. “You still view Dorothy’s group as somewhat of a cult, don’t you?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Well, if so, you’re a member, too.”
Nicole looked around her, seeing a few familiar faces, most of whom she’d been out to dinner with. She spied Cheryl across the room, the surgeon’s hair now platinum blond. Deb Fisher stood talking to Dorothy, her arms moving animatedly. The election was only a week away, and Deb had a slight lead in the polls. Although Nicole would never voice this to anyone here, she secretly hoped Deb Fisher lost the election. Her interest to run for mayor had nothing to do with bettering the city and its people. Her interest was for her own political gain and that of her very powerful friends.
“You came alone, I suppose.”
Nicole nodded and sipped from her wine.
“Cheryl’s here. She came alone, too.”
Nicole rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? I have zero interest in Cheryl.”
“But why? She’s beautiful, she’s a surgeon, and she’s available.”
“I don’t like her, Irene. She’s one of the most conceited women I’ve ever met. I don’t like her as a person. I certainly don’t want to date her.”
“You know, you’re getting older, Nicole. You’re fast approach-ing the age where you can’t afford to be so… picky.”
Nicole’s eyes widened, not believing what she’d just heard. “Are you serious? Irene, I’m thirty-six, and I don’t care if I was forty-six. I’m not going to date someone I don’t like just because I’m getting older. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with being alone.”
“Nicole, you’ve not been out on a date in months. Dorothy seems to think you’re still hung up on that cop.”
Nicole swallowed with difficulty, the unexpected mention of Jake causing her heart to tighten painfully. She couldn’t seem to get the woman out of her mind, out of her heart. At night, each and every night, her mind would fill with images of Jake, and Nicole would struggle with sleep as she tried to push Jake away, only to end up giving in and embracing the images. At night, she allowed herself to become the Nicole she longed to be, free and unencumbered with her position and her practice. Free to be who she was and free to be with the woman she loved. But the light of day brought back the reality of her life, and each morning, she dressed the part, donning an expensive suit and decorating her face perfectly. Only Catherine seemed to be able to see through her facade, but she’d long ago quit mentioning the sad look in Nicole’s eyes.
“I don’t know why Dorothy feels the need to be so involved in my life. And if I choose not to date, Irene, I don’t feel that necessitates a major discussion among you all.”
Irene only smiled and patted her arm. “So, you did feel some-thing for the cop.” Irene shrugged. “Patrice said she was a knock-out. But a cop, Nicole? Please.”
Nicole felt no need to argue. It was a moot point, really. Jake was gone. Nicole had let her walk right out of her life without a fight, pretending that all she felt for Jake was a physical attraction. Just sex. But four months had passed, and Nicole was no closer now to forgetting Jake than she’d been at Thanksgiving.
Taking a step away from Irene, Nicole looked around the room, wondering at the sudden isolation she felt. These people were acquaintances, not really friends. Even Dorothy, a woman she’d known nearly twelve years, wouldn’t be considered a good friend. Nicole had always considered Irene her closest ally in the group, but now, she realized that Irene was just playing the game, too. Nicole nearly laughed. All the beautiful, closeted lesbians in one house, all pretending to be ecstatically happy in their lives. And no doubt, some truly were. Dorothy, for instance. She’d lived this life for so long, she knew none other. Deb Fisher, too, seemed immune to the trappings of living this way. She’d embraced the lifestyle and the benefits that went with being in Dorothy Peterson’s inner circle.
It was suddenly all too much for Nicole. She’d sacrificed her independence by catering to Dorothy all these years. Dorothy had taken her in, had given her a start. Dorothy had funneled clients her way over the years, helping to build her practice. She’d always felt like she owed Dorothy. But something Matthew Gregory had said that fateful night still nagged at her. On the pretense that Dorothy couldn’t help them, but perhaps Nicole could, she’d shoved off patient after patient to Nicole, those whose insurance had run out, those who were about to end their counseling anyway. No loss for Dorothy, but no gain for Nicole, either. Only unpaid bills when she found their insurance cancelled. But still, she stuck with Dorothy, afraid to alienate her, afraid to be banished from the group. She’d sacrificed her professional life, but worse, she’d sacrificed her personal life. She let the one person she truly cared about walk out of her life, just because someone told her that Jake didn’t fit in her life, in their life.
“Well, fuck that,” she whispered.
“What?”
Nicole blinked, not realizing she’d spoken out loud. She met Irene’s questioning gaze and smiled. “I said, ‘fuck that,’ “ she repeated.
“Are you okay?”
“Actually, I feel great. See you around, Irene,” Nicole said as she turned away.
“Wait? Where are you going?”
Nicole smiled. “Home. I’m going home.”
“But we haven’t eaten. Are you ill?”
“Not ill, no. I just came to my senses is all. Give Dorothy my regards, would you?”
Nicole blindly set her wineglass down, ignoring the curious stares as she snatched up her purse and coat from the spare bed-room. She heard Dorothy calling her name as the front door slammed shut, but she didn’t stop. It felt too good to be escaping like this and, little by little, she felt the tension leave her, felt the tightness she’d been living with ease up. She looked up into the cold night sky, seeing the twinkling of stars overhead. Free. She always wondered what it would feel like to break away from them. She laughed as her breath frosted around her. She was going to the mountains.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Jake stood with her back to the fire, smiling as she watched Cheyenne attempt to curl into a tiny ball on one corner of the sofa. After three days of spring-like weather, winter had shown itself again, and they’d been buried by ten inches of fresh snow. No doubt the folks at the ski resort in Crested Butte were elated at the late-season storm, but Jake would just as soon get winter over with.
Common sense told her it was just as well. She’d overdone it the last few days, suffering each night with the pain in her leg. But the sunshine and warm temperatures couldn’t
keep her inside. She’d even chanced a hike to the ridge, trying to catch the sunset yesterday evening. She was disappointed when she couldn’t make it all the way up, but her leg simply wouldn’t support her weight as she tried to climb. She’d soaked in the tub and had taken two pain pills before the pain had eased up.
So now, she simply watched the snow falling in the late afternoon, watched as it covered up their trail into the forest. She had a stew simmering on the stove for most of the afternoon, and the smell made her stomach rumble, reminding her she’d skipped lunch. She smiled. She’d skipped lunch because she’d been taking a nap, still trying to ward off the effects of two pain pills.
Well, it would do her good to rest for a few days. She pulled back the screen on the fireplace and added another log, then limped heavily as she walked into the kitchen to get a bowl of stew. Cheyenne’s ears perked up as she heard the spoon hit the bowl, but she didn’t raise her head.
“I know you’re listening,” Jake said. “Don’t pretend you don’t want any.”
With that, Cheyenne jumped off the couch, tail wagging as she stood next to Jake, doing her version of a pitiful beg. Jake dutifully filled a second bowl, setting it aside to cool. “Got to wait. You’re still a dog, you know.” Jake laughed at the high-pitched bark Cheyenne gave her. She sat down, putting most of her weight on the table as she eased into a chair. She rubbed her thigh, noting that the numbness wasn’t quite as pronounced as it had been. The doctors had assured her that the pain would subside as her muscle grew stronger, but some days, like now, she wondered if she would ever be pain free. A limp, she could live with. But the sharp, throbbing pain that remained after each hike was threatening to bring her down. She wondered how long she would be able to fight through the pain. She wondered if she would eventually give in and quit hiking, quit trying to get stronger. Or would she simply give in and rely on the pain pills to get her through? A hermit and a junkie? God, that would be rock bottom. She shook her head. A hermit, maybe.