by Terese Ramin
And if it was… Hell, he really didn’t think he’d survive if he could never squeeze her hand, stroke her cheek, curl her hair around his fingers or—his entire body ached with the very thought—love her again.
Inside, the sounds and shadows of the encroaching night squeezed tight around Janina’s lungs, made paranoid forays along whichever nerves made the fine hair on her arms and neck stand on end, sent gooseflesh racing from fingertip to toe.
When she’d rushed blindly, recklessly, happily into her life with Russ—into setting up their life together out here on the acreage before civilized living conditions were fully met—she’d never dreamed it would be like this.
So dark.
So full of sound and scent.
So unknown, so uncivilized and so…
Not human.
She hadn’t realized.
Growing up, there’d been a fair amount of visiting wild-life, especially around the trash bins where the raccoons were bold and sassy, the skunks were clumsy and tended to knock things about, snakes collected on warm flag and had to be watched for especially after dark when the stone along walkways held the heat after the sun went down. But this was different. There it was never dark, never absent of people. There had been lights everywhere, from other trailers, on poles, wherever someone had strung up Japanese lanterns, or left Christmas lights up all year.
And the noise! The noise was constant. Crying babies, screaming children, laughter, shouting, sobbing, talking, arguing—people nohuman sound—and always someone within shouting range.
At her apartment there was constant evidence of human activity even on the quietest days, including those days on which neither she nor Tobi saw another living soul between their place and the parking lot. Because from within the apartment they could hear not only the neighbors above them, but also the ones through the walls on either side, the street traffic or passersby from out front, the sounds kids made playing out back. Human racket was everywhere.
And the smell! Scent, flavor, stench, fragrances—the air was laced with them. Mingled food—the mouthwatering flavors of peppers or spice or paella or overripe fruit. Perfume, bodies, asphalt, paint, cars overheating in the summer, the peculiar odor air conditioners gave off in the summer, furnaces in the winter, wood fires, laundry—both clean and dirty. Whether foul or fresh it was still human, someone, somehow to be seen, touched, known. But here…
Janina swallowed, stepped away from her kitchen window and into the brighter puddle of light the overhead cast and wrapped her arms a little more closely around herself before she allowed herself a quick glance in the direction of the room at the far end of the trailer where Maddie spent most of her time—or tried to—and another in the opposite direction where she thought she detected her husband outside beating up…something.
Again.
Here there was not only Russ to get used to, but the intense darkness, the sounds and smells, the lack of a certain civility, a lack of amenities that she’d never before even considered.
Here there was Maddie struggling with an ever-increasing sense of hopelessness and despair, of grief and loss, fear and desperation, trying ever more desperately not to get in the way of her friends’ less-than-month-old marriage.
But despite her best efforts, she was smack-dab in the middle of it most of the time simply because she was here.
Here was darkness so intense that Janina, who’d never thought herself afraid of anything, found she was afraid of it.
And the sounds it made.
The sounds she didn’t recognize.
The inhuman ones.
The cries, the screams, the emphatic sneezy barks and yowls, the growls and tremulous wails, the kee-yows and the waows.
But mostly she was fearful of the noises she didn’t hear.
The silence could be deafening.
The fear was legitimate, she assured herself, because she’d grown up with skin-walker stories, the tales of evil native witches who could turn themselves into anything and cause all manner of havoc. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t grown up on the Big Rez but merely adjacent to it, that she wasn’t Navajo, only a mixture of Spanish and Mexican and Incan or Aztec or Mayan or something equally hair-raisingly superstitious, and that she told herself she didn’t believe in any of it anyway. It didn’t matter because it was difficult to outgrow the little niggly bits from your childhood when you were suddenly plunked down into so much darkness, so many weird sounds.
When you added in there in all that blackness somewhere, and—though she hadn’t told Russ yet because she had no concrete proof—Buddy out there somewhere, taunting her from his requisite hundred feet or better as required by the restraining order, well, it sort of all added up to too much.
So too much, in fact, that she hadn’t yet been able to bring herself to talk to Russ about the whole baby issue, or rather the lack of baby issue. She knew it was coming between them, but she just wasn’t ready to risk losing him…not when the world was so chaotic and she needed him so much.
And on top of that she’d been flat out feeling weird lately. Like Russ’s spider sense, kicking in or something. But she didn’t do spider sense.
Oh hell, she was paranoid, that was all. It was simply the Buddy thing on top of Charlie and…whatever…and all the rest. She’d just seen Buddy too often lately to be coincidence, that was all, especially on top of what Maddie’d told them about his father—that he’d been there that night, too, that he’d wanted Janina brought in. But she couldn’t be clearer.
Now wherever she went, Buddy seemed to be down the block or across the street, or exiting Bashas or Safe-way as she entered. He’d done his shadowing clumsily but well.
As though, she’d decided uncomfortably, someone had schooled him so that his being that close to her could and would appear accidental.
Accidental her eye. Especially not when he’d brushed up against her on her way into Wal-Mart, deliberately leaving through the entryway when she came in a little ahead of her constant companions so he could do it. Bumping his shoulder into her so that Maddie, who’d been with her, had only caught the exchange from the corner of her eye and couldn’t be sure of what she’d seen. And while Jonah’s back had somehow managed to be fully turned to them both.
Janina hadn’t enlightened either of them regarding that incident or any of the others. And she sure as hell hadn’t told Russ. She’d seen him react to Buddy once. She didn’t think even Jonah would be able to intervene if Russ reacted the way she thought he would to her ex-husband stalking her with intent to harm.
Which meant she’d handle the bastard herself.
A certain amount of grim satisfaction came with the thought, reduced her fears momentarily. She looked forward to dealing with Buddy once and for all—and on her own—as soon as the proper time and opportunity presented themselves. Finally being able to defend herself against something—no, someone—specific would be a relief after too long spent living with the unseen.
A sudden skin-creeping scream shattered the twilight, caused Janina to jump and tremble and emit her own inadvertently shuddering, “Oh, God, I hate that,” in response.
She knew what the sound was: something—fox or coyote probably—had taken a rabbit for supper. But knowing didn’t make the cry easier to get used to. A rabbit’s scream was like no other, and no matter how often Russ tried to assure her it was merely life cycling onward, she just couldn’t deal with it.
And it only served to remind her that she and Maddie were sitting out here in the middle of nowhere with no neighborto spy on them, no gossipy town looking in on them. Prey.
And damn Maddie for filling her in on what Charlie—and Buddy’s father, which meant, if she thought about it, which she never intended to, Buddy, too, possibly—was capable of doing—
“Janie?”
“Gaaaaah!” Startled, Janina yelped, clutching her heart, and turned to find Maddie behind her. “Don’t do that.”
Jumpy in her own right, Maddie sucked air and re
coiled, too, put out a hand to catch the edge of a counter and squeaked, “Damn, what the…? Are you all right?”
“No.” Janina glared at her. “Why do you think I yelled?”
“Ah…” Maddie’s mouth made weird movements into her cheeks, while her dark-circled, sunken eyes moved wildly, and deliberately, about in their sockets. “I don’t know?” A definite question.
One that had some reservations about more than merely Janina’s current state of mind.
“Why,” Janina said pointedly, “are you all right?” Meaning she, for one, doubted it. In the extreme.
“I’m—”
She gasped, grabbed for Janina when a large moth, attracted by the light, fluttered crazily against the kitchen screen. Janina clutched her back, until they both calmed enough to recognize what they were doing, laugh weakly in embarrassment and shove away—though not far.
“I’m a lit-little jumpy tonight, thanks,” Maddie finished feebly.
Janina gave her mouth a self-conscious twist. “Make that me, too.” She shrugged unhappily. “I’ve got the weirdest sensation something’s about to happen, but…” She tossed her hands. “I don’t know where it’s coming from. I don’t do this sort of thing—have this sort of feeling.”
Maddie eyed her speculatively. “It’s a Levoie thing, you mean? A Russ thing?”
Janina hesitated, nodded, shook her head, nodded more decisively. “Yeah. Sort of. Kind of. I just know it doesn’t feel like…me.”
Intrigued out of her own problems, Maddie cocked her head and studied her best friend’s wife.
And started to smile.
An instant later she flung her arms around Janina and hugged her hard. “Oh, my God,” she said, delighted. “It would explain everything.”
Janina simply inhaled deeply, shook her head to clear it, then patted Maddie on the back and muttered something about both of them having lost their marbles along with everything else.
Maddie laughed dizzily, pulled back a bit and shook her head. “No, I haven’t,” she said firmly. “And neither have you. Really. I thought Russ had been sniffing around you differently the last couple days, weirdly, you know? Treating you like glass. I bet it’s because he knows, but he doesn’t want to spoil it for you so he’s waiting for you to find out and tell him. Or maybe he doesn’t know but just senses something fragile about you. Either way you’re pregnant, Janina. And you really don’t have a clue, do you?”
Massaging his bruised knuckles, Russ stepped out from under the trailer’s awning and flicked perspiration from his chest and the back of his neck. He grabbed his shirt off the nearby picnic table and wiped himself down with it.
Damn it was hot. Almost too much heat in the air to breathe.
Though the temperature would probably drop into the seventies later tonight, it was still a sweat-soaking one hundred degrees even with night finally crawling in. His temper and frustration level were short enough these days, he didn’t need the heat index adding to the already strained links on his chains.
An abrupt movement at the corner of his eye piqued not only his curiosity but his spider sense, and he stilled, ducking into shadow to study the scrub to the south, waiting. Excellent night vision gave him the advantage. When whatever it was shifted forward a few paces then flattened itself into the brush, he dropped his shirt and got rid of his shoes before slipping silent and crablike into the nightfall with astonishing speed.
It was too much.
First, all Russ seemed able to talk about was keeping her safe, catching Charlie or how soon they’d need maternity benefits.
And now Maddie thought she was pregnant.
The unfairness of it welled up and stung Janina’s throat, pricked fire behind her eyes. She blinked, stretched her jaw in an effort to hold back emotion.
And failed.
The tears welled, big, hot, flash floodlike, and spilled.
Unwilling to share them, she shoved by Maddie and darted for the bedroom. Maddie was quick, and reached the room before Janina had a chance to shut her out. Too exhausted to fight, Janina simply heaved herself into a cross-legged ball at the head of the bed, grabbed a pillow, shut her eyes and let the tears fall.
Maddie sat on the edge of the bed, reached out and touched her hand. “Janie?”
Janina squeezed her eyes tight and tried not to pull away from the aching sympathy in Maddie’s voice.
“I’m sorry, Janie,” Maddie said softly. “I got so excited for Russ that it never occurred to me you might not want to have a baby so soon.”
“What?” Janina lifted her head. “Not want to have…” She looked at Maddie incredulously. “Oh, God. Oh, God, Maddie. If I thought I was pregnant, I’d be dancing. Dancing. I want his babies—our babies—more than anything. But I can’t. My body won’t let it happen. And he keeps talking about it. And…I don’t know how to tell him. And now you… And you think he…? But how can he when it’s a lie? It’s not possible.
“We got married too fast.” She let her chin fall into the pillow again. “And I am such a coward. It’s just not possible.”
Maddie poked her on the point of her “You lookin’ for someone to talk you out of that?”
Janina smiled wanly. “Okay, I’m not a coward. I will tell him. But if kids were in his plans with me all along and we can’t have them together, I don’t know him well enough to know what to expect from him.”
“Neither do I,” Maddie said.
Janina viewed her with dismay.
Maddie grinned. “If I had to guess,” she suggested, and waited until Janina nodded warily at her before continuing. “Well, if I had to guess, I’d guess that he wants kids but that he married you and not whatever fertility goddess you might or might not be connected to. I mean, hell, he waited long enough to get around to it, right?”
Janina tipped her chin hesitantly.
“And unless I miss my guess…” Maddie paused, cleared her throat delicately. “He’s yours, exclusively.”
Janina smiled slightly without meaning to.
“I knew the first time I saw him look at you he was gone, and he wasn’t comin’ back. This seems like maybe the wrong thing to say right now but it’s why he’s the only man I want to father a child for Jess and me. He’s got all the quality and none of the crap. I like his brothers, but he’s the only man I’ve ever loved—in a nonhetero kind of way, you understand,” she amended quickly.
“That’s what you two were yelling down the public hotel hallway about on my honeymoon?” Janina gave her full-blown, screwed-up-face disbelief. “Those commodities? As in…should-be-mine-exclusively-’cuz-we’re-married-now commodities?”
“Well, he turned me down,” Maddie protested, “You heard him. And…” She looked away sadly, seeing something Janina couldn’t. “Anyway, I asked him before he married you—before any of this happened. He said no then, too. Nada. Not happening. And it wasn’t for me to carry. I can’t—it’s Jess. But now…”
Silence washed between them, a moment shared wherein they each recognized themselves for what they were: Russ’s women. In different capacities, certainly, but belonging to him—or him to them—nevertheless.
It was Janina who ended the hush with a watery laugh. “I get it now, Mad. You love him, don’t you? Not like I do, and not so I have to worry about him with you, but you do.”
“Yeah, well.” Maddie shrugged. “I told you, Jess is my earth, the world. I can’t love Russ that way even if we need a donation from him so Jess can get pregnant. I never wanted him to deliver it in person, but he got spooked anyway.”
Janina grinned. “Big baby.”
Maddie snorted. “Some days.” She turned serious. “You know, I think you’re the best thing’s happened to him.” She smiled. “And if he’s too big an idiot when you tell him you can’t have kids to realize it doesn’t matter ’cuz he’s got you and that’s all that does, then you come see me and I’ll hogtie him and remind him why it doesn’t matter. Not compared to loing the person you love like I’
ve lost Jess.”
Janina leaned over and hugged Maddie. “Thank you.”
“No.” Maddie hugged her back hard. “Thank you.”
A yell from the direction of the kitchen door brought them both around.
“Janie! Janie, get the door.”
“Russ.” Janina scrambled off the bed and headed for the kitchen, Maddie on her heels. “Russ? What is it?”
“Jonah!” She heard him order their out-of-sight but omnipresent watchdog. “Call the station. Get a team out here. I want a full sweep of the area. Lights, ATVs, the works. Now.”
“What? Why? Russ?” Janina banged the door open, held it wide to find her husband carrying what appeared to be a body into the shadow of the awning. She slipped out of the trailer to let him inside. “What’s going on?”
He eyed her grimly, jaw clenched. A muscle ticked in his cheek. Then he showed her the woman in his arms.
“I found Jess.”
Chapter 14
“Jess? Jessi?”
Maddie rushed forward, all at once anxious and fearful and trying to relieve Russ of his burden.
With a mild eyebrow lift, he shouldered Maddie out of the way and let her flutter apprehensively ahead of him into the bedroom she’d been using and get underfoot while he settled Jess on the bed and Janina made sure Emergency Medical Services was on the way.
Securely ensconced at last, Maddie seated beside her, more than a little weepy and babbling, Jess roused herself sufficiently to smile weakly but affectionately at her companion. Then the smile faded, her eyes snapped, and the woman who’d survived three weeks of both Charlie Thorn and an arduous flight from him lifted her right hand and slapped Maddie hard across the face.
“Damn it, don’t you ever lie to me by omission about anything I might be able to help you with again, you hear me, Maddie?” she croaked.