Bolted

by Meg Benjamin

  “Go home, Ryan,” she said softly. “I can’t help you. I wish I could in a way. But I really can’t. You need to work this whole thing out for yourself and figure out what you want to do next. And you need to do it somewhere else.”

  He glanced around the garden, regretfully. “Maybe. You know, this seems like a really nice place, a good place to think about things.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, it is. But I got here first. And it’s not big enough for both of us.”

  “Really?” He gave her one of those winning, boyish smiles she used to find so endearing. “Maybe if I stayed, we could sort of figure things out together.”

  “No, we couldn’t,” Greta said firmly.

  “No chance at all?”

  She shook her head. Endearing smile and all, he was history. “No chance at all.”

  He sighed. “Okay.” He gave her another one of those smiles, this time with a dimple attached. “How about a kiss for old time’s sake?”

  You have got to be kidding me. “Nope.”

  He sighed again. “All right. If that’s the way you want it. Maybe I’ll head back to the city.” He pushed himself to his feet, his expression stoic.

  “Wait.” Greta sighed, getting to her feet beside him. She leaned over and brushed her lips across his, running her fingers along his cheek. “Take care of yourself, Ryan.”

  He nodded. “You too.” He turned and started toward the garden gate, then looked back just before he reached it. “If you ever need anything, just, you know, call.”

  “Right.” She folded her arms across her chest, watching him walk away.

  “That was interesting.”

  She turned toward the darker part of the garden. Hank lounged on their bench.

  “Were you here for all of that?”

  He shrugged. “Pretty much. I thought about making noise so you’d know I was sitting here, but then I got caught up in the conversation.”

  She walked deeper into the darkness of the maples. Hank leaned back, resting one shoulder against a cast-iron armrest.

  “You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but I guess it doesn’t matter. Are you upset about any of that?”

  He shook his head. “Should I be? I hadn’t planned on it.”

  She sank down beside him. “He really is clueless. Believe it or not, he’s good at what he does. But he’s totally inept when it comes to people. I’m just beginning to figure that out.”

  “Still. He should have known not to cheat on you.”

  She sighed, pushing a lock of hair away from her eyes. “He should have. On the other hand, Dorothy was the determined type. A lot more determined than I am. My guess is he never knew what hit him.”

  Hank pushed himself upright, running his fingers down the slope of her nose. “Do you really want to talk about your ex-husband right now?”

  A shivery feeling seemed to circulate from her neck downward, tightening her nipples and spreading to her stomach. The nose is an erogenous zone? Who knew? “No, I do not want to talk about Ryan now. Or ever again, as far as that goes.”

  “Good.” He slid his arm around her waist, bringing her closer. “We’ve got other things to talk about. Or not talk about as the case may be.”

  “I vote for not.” She looped her arms around his neck, drawing his mouth down to hers.

  The combination of moonlight and Hank was just as intoxicating as ever. She dug her fingers into his hair, feeling the short, silky strands under her fingertips, then moving her palms along the sides of his head, letting her thumbs skim across the tops of his ears.

  After a moment, he raised his head, staring down at her, the corners of his mouth inching up. “You don’t play fair, woman.”

  “Was I supposed to?” She let her lips skate down the side of his throat, then dipped her tongue into the indentation at the base.

  He cupped her face in his hands, drawing her back to his kiss. His tongue plunged deep in her mouth, and heat pooled in her abdomen. She brought her thighs together, feeling the throb of desire between them.

  After another moment, he rested his forehead on hers. “You know, this hasn’t happened to me all that often. I’ve never run into a woman who could send me from zero to a hundred and twenty in a matter of seconds. Not until now, anyway.”

  She caught her breath. “It’s not all that typical for me either.”

  He pulled back to look at her again. “We can’t stay here, you know. Another five minutes and we’ll be down on the grass. And this time we might actually run into Hyacinth, assuming she decides now is the time to release Carolina.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly, she felt a little less excited than she had a moment ago. “Poor Hyacinth.”

  “Poor Carolina. She’s a turtle. She needs to be out and around.” He stood up, extending his hand to her. “We, on the other hand, could be inside and down.”

  She grinned up at him, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “That sounds like a good idea to me.”

  “Shall we?” He draped his arm across her shoulders, walking her toward the kitchen door.

  “We shall.” Oh, most definitely.

  As they reached the door, he turned, staring down at her. “You’re sure it’s only two more nights?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.” Damn it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They used Greta’s room this time. The moonlight was brighter there, and unless Hank was very much mistaken, she had a better mattress. Not that the mattress mattered all that much. He’d have been willing to make love to her on the hardwood floor if she’d indicated a preference.

  Now he lay beside her, holding her loosely against him, wondering if it was too soon to try for a rematch. His body was showing a lot more resilience than usual. Amazingly so, given recent history. In spite of a sprained foot and several days of sleep deprivation, he still felt as randy as a fifteen-year-old.

  Oddly enough, though, in spite of his crying need to make love to her, he also felt this crying need to have The Talk. In fact, he felt both needs simultaneously, and at the moment, amazingly, The Talk seemed to be winning.

  “Hey?” he murmured.

  Greta stirred in his arms, her skin silver in the moonlight. Her eyes stayed closed, but the corners of her mouth turned up in one of those sensuous smiles that made his groin go on high alert. “Hmmm?”

  He took a breath. “Are you sure you have to go back?”

  Her eyes opened slowly as the grin diminished. After a moment, she nodded. “Yeah.” She sighed. “Yeah, I really think I do. Unfortunately.”

  “The thing is…” He paused, thinking how to say it. “The thing is, you seem to be doing really well here, all in all. I mean, okay, you’ve got no clothes or personal possessions, but other than that…”

  She grinned again. “Other than that…”

  “You’ve got the beginnings of a successful business with Alice. You’ve been pretty much adopted into the Dubrovnik family. And you’re cooking rings around everybody else in the county.”

  “It’s a small county,” she murmured.

  “Granted. But still. And you’ve apparently taken care of any lingering problems with your ex, for what that’s worth.” And you can have me in your bed whenever you want. He decided not to share that fact with her just yet. It might be enough to scare her off.

  She sighed. “Yeah. I guess I have.”

  “So the thing is, Greta, why can’t you stay?” With me. Oh steady there, Doc.

  “Because I’ve only been here for a few days.” She turned to him, her expression suddenly serious. Bummer—he wanted that smile back. “I’m not taking the easy way out this time around. I need to go home and face my mom. I need to tell her all about Ryan, and I need to explain about why I didn’t tell her before, and I need to take my lumps because she won’t be happy. But for once, I need to show that I can follow through on something, that I can do the right thing. That even if she’s mad at me, I won’t fold. I’ve always let Josh look after Mom—he’s Mr. Responsible. And I just so
rt of ran off and did my thing. When I screwed up, everybody just shrugged and said ‘That’s Greta for you’. I’m tired of being That Girl.”

  “I like That Girl,” he said softly.

  “You don’t really know That Girl,” she murmured.

  “What about what you’ve got here? The baking and the cooking and the rest of it?” Including me.

  She shook her head. “What I’ve got here is terrific. But it’s sort of like a vacation. Like I’m using it to avoid the rest of my life. If I stuck around and kept baking, I’d never be sure whether I was doing it because I wanted to or because I was trying not to do something else. I’ve got a whole set of decisions I have to make—this job possibility in Boston that I haven’t really considered, how I’m going to tell my mom about breaking up with Ryan, what I’m going to do now. This has been a great week, but I can’t hide out in Tompkins Corners forever.”

  Hank lay still for a moment, trying to marshal his next set of arguments, when someone hammered on the door.

  Greta propped herself upright on her elbow. “If that’s Ryan, I swear I’m going to kill him.”

  “If that’s Ryan, I’ll help.” He pushed himself to his feet, heading for the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Nadia,” she snapped. “Open up.”

  “If this is some kind of freakin’ bed check, I’m not going to be happy.” He pulled on his jeans, opening the door a crack. “What?”

  Nadia stood in the middle of the hall dressed in a lavender silk kimono, her hair hanging long and slightly wild around her face. “Have you seen Hyacinth?”

  “Hyacinth?” He shook his head. “Not since right after dinner. She was going to take care of her turtle.”

  “Take care of it how?”

  “Turn it loose. Isn’t she around?”

  Nadia shook her head. “She’s not in her bed. Alice thought I tucked her in, and I thought Alice did.”

  Greta appeared at his shoulder, pulling down her T-shirt. “Did you check the shed? She was down there with Carolina. Maybe she still is.”

  Nadia sighed. “No. She’s not there or anywhere else around the house. Did she say anything about where she might go to set this turtle free?”

  Hank shrugged. “Not that I know of. Would you like us to do a search around the garden?”

  “I suppose.” Nadia rubbed a hand across her lips. “I don’t know where she can be. It wouldn’t take that long to release the turtle in the woods and come back. Unless she’s gotten lost.”

  “She wouldn’t let it loose in the woods around here,” Greta said slowly. “She’d take it back where she found it in the first place. Or anyway, she’d take it near water. She told me once that box turtles liked moisture.”

  Nadia’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, if she’s gone into marshland somewhere, she might have gotten caught in quicksand or something worse!”

  “There’s not much quicksand around here,” Hank soothed. “The only boggy land I know of is near Tompkins Lake.”

  “The lake isn’t any better.” Nadia looked almost tearful. “It’s very deep. The child can swim, of course, but I don’t know how far.”

  “Let’s try searching around the lake.” Greta turned back toward the room. “We need to get dressed. Where’s Alice?”

  “Searching through the garden again. I’ll go get her. The two of us are going with you. Wait for us.” Nadia headed for the stairs, traveling much more quickly than Hank would have guessed she was able to move.

  Greta sighed. “You don’t suppose Hyacinth’s run away, do you? Taken Carolina and hit the road?”

  “I don’t know. Traveling with a turtle doesn’t exactly strike me as easy. Or fast.” He fought down the image of Hyacinth walking along beside the road with Carolina on a tiny leash.

  “How boggy is it by the lake?”

  “Not very.” He shrugged. “But there are lots of woods around there. Which is what would make it good turtle habitat. Box turtles live on land.”

  Greta dug her general store sneakers out from under the bed. “These aren’t going to be great in mud, but it’s better than going barefoot.”

  “Definitely.” He paused for one more longing glance in her direction. Even in T-shirt and shorts, with uncombed hair and an absence of makeup, she was a knockout.

  You’re falling in love with her. He closed his eyes. Maybe, although on less than a week’s acquaintance he didn’t think that was likely. But even if it turned out to be true, love would have to go on hold for now. After all, she was leaving, right?

  Greta watched Alice and Nadia walk toward the shore of the lake. Alice looked her probable age for a change, which wasn’t reassuring. Her eyes were sunken, and she clutched her walking stick in a way that emphasized her swollen joints. Nadia wore what looked like the first clothes she’d been able to lay her hands on, a wrinkled skirt and an oversize T-shirt. For once, she had no pashmina over her shoulders, although she could probably have used it in the cool night air.

  Greta turned toward Hank, bringing up the rear and carrying a heavy flashlight and a blanket to wrap around Hyacinth once they found her. “Where’s the bog?”

  “All around the lake but back in the woods. We need to start by calling her. Maybe she’s just gotten turned around.” He stepped to the water’s edge beside Alice and Nadia. “Hyacinth,” he called. “Are you here?”

  “Hyacinth,” Alice yelled at the top of her lungs. “It’s Grandma. Can you hear me?”

  Nadia joined in, calling in a surprisingly rich contralto.

  Greta wandered up the beach a little way, listening. “Hyacinth?” she called. “It’s Greta. Are you here?”

  For a moment, she thought she heard something, a distant squeaking, like a tree in the wind. Then she decided it actually was the wind after all. “Hyacinth,” she called again, moving down the beach. “Hyacinth, can you hear me?”

  The shouts of the others faded slightly. Greta closed her eyes, listening. “Hyacinth?”

  The squeaking came again, closer now that she’d moved down the beach. Not the wind, given the stillness of the water. “Hyacinth,” she called again. “Yell if you can hear me.”

  This time the squeak was very definite and very recognizable. “Help,” Hyacinth called.

  Greta turned on her heel. “Hank,” she yelled. “Alice. Nadia. She’s over here.”

  She turned back again, moving toward where the “Help” had come from. Or where she thought it had come from.

  Hank’s footsteps thumped behind her. “Where is she?”

  “I’m not sure.” She turned toward the woods on the lake shore. “Hyacinth, call again so we can find you.”

  “Help, help, help.” This time the voice was more definite. To the left, away from the lake.

  Alice appeared at Greta’s side. “She’s in the woods. Damn it. She knows she’s not supposed to go in there. It’s full of poison ivy.”

  “Terrific.” Hank sighed, turning on the flashlight. “Keep yelling, Hyacinth. We’re coming.”

  He shone the light into the dense wall of trees in front of them. “There’s a path there, over to the right.”

  Greta followed his pointing hand, stepping carefully between the tree trunks. Something swished through the leaves beside her, and she caught her breath. Squirrels. Rabbits. Field mice. Not bears. Definitely not bears. Nadia and Alice trudged ahead of them.

  Hyacinth’s voice was nearer now, high and slightly shrill, as if she’d been calling for a while.

  “Over this way,” Hank muttered, pushing aside what she hoped were bushes rather than a massive pile of poison ivy.

  “Over where?” She paused, staring around at the trees. Hyacinth’s voice seemed to be near, but she couldn’t see anything except tree trunks.

  “Up here,” Hyacinth yelled.

  Greta bent her head back as Hank shone the light up to the forest canopy. And then they saw her.

  Hyacinth clung to the trunk of a remarkably spindly white pine. She seemed to be at least ten feet
up, her legs and arms wrapped tight.

  “Oh my lord,” Nadia whispered.

  Beside her, Alice huffed out a breath. “How in the blue blazes did you get up there? No, the real question is why are you up there?”

  “I wanted to let Carolina go,” Hyacinth muttered.

  “In a freakin’ tree?” Alice sounded more annoyed than worried, although Greta was betting she was both.

  “No.” Hyacinth sounded like she was pouting. “I let her go in the forest. And then I climbed the tree because there was a bear.”

  “A bear.” Alice narrowed her eyes.

  “Yes. I thought so, anyway. I mean I heard something that could have been a bear, and I got scared. Only now, I’m up here.” Hyacinth’s voice wobbled a little on the last word.

  “You can climb down now, dear,” Nadia said in a reasonable voice. “There are no bears around. We checked.”

  “I can’t.” Hyacinth’s voice was definitely wobbly now. “I don’t know how. I’m afraid.”

  Alice closed her eyes. She looked like she was counting. “Now what do we do?”

  “Talk her down.” Hank shrugged. “I’ll train the flashlight on the trunk and we can tell her how to climb down again.”

  “Hyacinth, dear,” Nadia called, “Hank’s going to shine the light on the tree so you can see what you’re doing. You can just climb down on the branches.”

  Hank shone the light up the dark trunk, the branches standing out jaggedly against the night sky. The entire tree looked remarkably frail, as if it might break in half in a high wind.

  “Come on, Hyacinth,” Alice called. “You climbed up. You can climb down the same way.”

  Above them, Hyacinth seemed to glance down and then fasten herself more tightly to the trunk. “No,” she whimpered. “It’ll break.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Alice said. “Just get started. Once you’re climbing down, you won’t have any trouble.” She sounded like she was gritting her teeth.

  This time Hyacinth didn’t bother to answer but pressed her face more tightly to the tree trunk.