Night Talk

by Rebecca Daniels

  And now it had happened again. Kristin stirred in her sleep beside him. Yesterday he thought she was a cold, unfeeling woman with ice water running through her veins. Now he knew better. There was nothing cold in the way she kissed him, nothing unfeeling in the way her body reacted to his. She had looked at him, touched him, and his whole life had changed. Being with her had been like coming home after an epic journey, like finding a warm hearth after wandering alone in a blizzard. She had become warmth and comfort and light to him. She had reached into his cold, emotionless soul and breathed new life into it. He had been living in a void, a place where there was no sun and no moon, no light or sound. He lived on the top of a mountain surrounded by beauty and nature, but his life had been gray and vacant. She had brought him color and warmth and he knew he would never be the same again.

  He caught sight of his boxers and her bra dangling from the bedpost and couldn't help smiling at their mad dash last night to get dressed and up the tower to prepare for the broadcast. Going from the soothing comfort of each other's arms to total chaos had been a shock to the system. But the good news was that they'd managed to scramble both clothing and equipment together in time for the show to go on. The bad news was…well, actually, there had been no bad news. Despite the frenzied start, the show had gone off without a hitch. Once it had ended, they had rushed back downstairs, gotten out of their clothes almost as frantically as they'd gotten into them, fallen back into bed and been there ever since.

  He knew he was headed for trouble, knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but for some reason, he couldn't summon the strength to be concerned. She'd asked him if he'd meant it when he'd said he liked her—if she only knew! Somewhere during the course of the last twenty-four hours he had come to the realization that he not only liked her, he was falling in love with her.

  The impossible had happened—he was falling in love. He wasn't sure how or when, and if he had been asked yesterday if he was even capable of those emotions, he would have been adamant that he was not—and yet it was true. There had been no clapping of thunder, no parting of the seas. The awareness had come to him clearly, precisely and with very little fanfare. Of course, he could make an attempt to convince himself it was just a case of physical attraction, that what had happened between them was merely a combination, the right time, the right place, but he would only be fooling himself. Besides, it wouldn't change anything anyway. It was useless to try to fight it, to kick and scream and attempt to explain it away by calling it something other than what it really was. The simple truth was he was so close to loving this woman and he knew with the same assurance that he knew the sun would rise in the east and set in the west that he would love her for the rest of his life.

  He was lucky. She needed him now, needed his comfort, his protection, but that wasn't always going to be the case. Sooner or later Ted was going to find the creep who had been stalking her and give her the green light to return to L.A. and her life. She would leave Eagle's Eye then, leave him—it was inevitable. Which was exactly why he was going to make the most of the time he did have with her.

  He glanced down at her, his shoulder pillowing her head, and brushed her hair back from her face. He didn't want to think about her leaving, about what his life would be like without her. Despite its remote location, he had never felt lonely or isolated at the tower. Eagle's Eye represented more than a job to him; it was his home. He loved the solitude and the raw wilderness that surrounded it, but all that had changed the moment she arrived.

  Even before he touched her, before he'd kissed her and explored every inch of her beautiful body, he had felt her presence everywhere. Days had gone by when he'd barely seen her, and if it hadn't been for the few short hours they were together during the "Lost Loves" broadcasts, he wouldn't have seen her at all. But that hadn't stopped her from leaving her mark on the place, her mark on him. She wasn't even gone yet, but just the thought made him feel empty and alone.

  "Which is why you're not going to think about it," he whispered aloud in the quiet room.

  "Think about what?" she mumbled sleepily.

  "Go back to sleep," he suggested, surprised to find her awake.

  She raised her head up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "You're up."

  "No, I'm not," he deadpanned. "This is a dream."

  She smiled sleepily, reaching up and running a hand along his cheek. "You're right about that."

  He turned to his side, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him. "Go back to sleep."

  She turned toward the window, listening. "It's stopped raining. We should get up and go get the truck."

  She was right, of course. He didn't want to leave the truck blocking the road for too long, but he couldn't bring himself to even think about getting up yet. The night had been almost too perfect and waking up with her in his arms had been like waking to a dream. The truck wasn't going anywhere, but he didn't know how many mornings he would have like this. He would indulge himself while he could.

  "We can do that later," he said, pressing a kiss against her lips. "Go back to sleep."

  She nodded, her eyelids heavy. "You too?"

  "Don't worry about me," he insisted, cradling her in his arms.

  She had started to drift off. He felt her body relax and her breathing become deep and rhythmic. But then she suddenly roused herself, lifting her head off his shoulder and looking up at him.

  "You won't leave, will you?"

  He reached up and gently pushed her head back down to his chest. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "Good," she muttered against him, stifling a yawn. "I want you with me."

  Her words alone were enough for his body to react. If she only knew…if she only knew.

  * * *

  "Cindy's here and wants to talk to you. Hold on, okay?"

  "Okay," Kristin said, taking a few steps closer to the kitchen window in an effort to improve the reception on her cell phone. The news from Ted had been good. New leads had led them to a suspect and he was hoping an arrest could be made soon. Of course, this should have sent her jumping up and down with joy, but instead she felt a little as though the bottom had dropped out of her world.

  "I'm so excited," Cindy said, her voice sounding faint and far away. "Just think, this whole thing could be over soon. You could be coming home."

  "I know," she said, doing her best to sound upbeat and excited. "It's really wonderful, isn't it?"

  "Honest to God, I can hardly believe it. I miss you so much, I can't wait until you're home and—" Cindy stopped then and Kristin could hear Ted's voice in the background saying something to her. "All right, all right," Cindy said impatiently as she returned to the line. "Ted says we're not to get our hopes up too high, nothing's certain yet, but I can't help it. It feels like you've been gone forever. You must be going crazy up there."

  "It's not so bad," Kristin mumbled awkwardly. She wasn't accustomed to lying to her sister, but she wasn't ready to tell her everything yet either. Of course, if this news had come to her ten days ago, she could have said in all honesty that she had been going crazy, but one stormy night had changed all that.

  It had been ten days since the storm, ten days since she'd ventured down that slippery mountain road and rescued Jake from a cold night in the rain, and those ten days had been the happiest of her life. God knows she wanted the stalker apprehended, wanted him behind bars and held accountable for that awful attack against Tori. It was just that now, that came with such a high price. With the stalker gone and the danger over, she would be free to leave Eagle's Eye, free to return to her old life again. Only…she wasn't ready for that yet. She didn't want to think about going home to an empty apartment every night, about working weekends and keeping the world at arm's length. She didn't want to think about leaving Jake.

  "Not so bad?" Cindy gasped. "Come on, this is me. You don't have to be a trooper for me."

  "Me? A trooper?" Kristin joked, hoping the humor would steer Cindy's attention away from guessing t
he truth. "When have you ever known me to be a trooper about anything? I pretty much tell it like it is, you know that. I even make a living at it!"

  Cindy laughed. "Well, I suppose you're right. How's Jake doing? You never mention him."

  "Oh, he's…" Perfect? Fantastic? The most wonderful man she'd ever met in her life? "Fine."

  "You two getting along pretty well?"

  "Oh yeah, no problem." Kristin ignored the pang of guilt. Getting along couldn't even begin to describe their days—and nights—together.

  "I know you two didn't exactly hit it off, but he really is a great guy. And honestly, I was sort of hoping with the two of you alone up there, you might—"

  Kristin felt something very close to panic and purposely stepped to the other side of the room in order to make the cell phone reception dip. "Oh gosh, Cin, I'm losing you. Can you hear me?"

  "Kristin? So much static. I can barely hear you."

  "Cin? You there? I'm losing you."

  Kristin's thumb slid over the Off button on her cell phone but she hesitated before depressing it to disconnect. It was a terrible thing to do, but if she thought she could have pulled if off, if she could have kept up a pretense with Cindy, she wouldn't even have considered such a cowardly way of avoiding the truth. But the fact was, her sister knew her too well. If she started talking about Jake, Cindy would have picked up on something immediately and she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. What had happened between Jake and her was too new, too special to discuss with anyone—even Cindy.

  Steeling herself, Kristin pushed the button and ended the call. She stood, staring down at the blank cell phone screen, almost afraid to move. She felt awful. How could she do such a terrible thing to poor Cindy?

  "You get cut off?"

  She looked up as Jake walked into the kitchen. "Yeah, but we were just about finished."

  "Cell service is never very good up here," he said, strolling across the room and slipping an arm around her waist. "You're lucky to get a weak signal if you get one at all." He reached up, brushing the back of his hand along her cheek. "It's good news, about the stalker, isn't it? You must be pleased."

  The crush of emotion that suddenly seized her heart was unexpected and it was all she could do to keep it under wraps. "Y-yes, it's great. It's almost unbelievable," she sighed. It wasn't a lie, but she felt as though it was. "But when you talked to Ted, did he seem a little vague to you—about the details? I mean, he wouldn't tell me anything about who they're suspicious of or how they found him."

  He shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. You get close on a case you've been working a while, you don't like to tip your hand too soon. Too many things could go wrong."

  "You never talk much about when you were a cop. Didn't you like it?"

  Something shifted in his expression, something very slight and very subtle, but she felt it just the same.

  "No, I liked it fine. I just don't know that I was very good at it, that's all."

  She frowned. "That's not what Ted says."

  "Ted's my friend," he said in a soft voice, reaching down and giving her nose a peck. "He's got to say that."

  "I know something happened, something you don't like to talk about."

  "Did Ted tell you that too?"

  She shook her head. "He didn't have to."

  He shrugged casually, but she felt the tension in his body. "You're right, something did happen, but it was a long time ago."

  "Could you tell me about it?"

  "I don't talk about it." He bent down and brushed a kiss along her cheek. "With anyone."

  His words stung. She didn't like being shut out, didn't like the fact that there were areas of his life that were off limits to her. But she wasn't going to push. It was obvious he wasn't comfortable discussing the subject, and as a counselor, she'd learned you couldn't make anyone talk about what they didn't want to. When he was ready, he would tell her and she would be ready to listen.

  "Okay, I get it," she said in a light voice. "The mysterious type, huh?"

  "Yeah, that's me, mysterious!" he joked, but she could hear the relief in his voice. Grabbing her hand, he headed for the door. "Come on, I'm taking you on a hike."

  * * *

  "You okay?" He reached down and offered her a hand.

  "F-fine," she puffed, grabbing his hand and letting him help her up and over a large rock.

  "It's going to be worth it," he assured her. "I promise."

  "Oh, I believe you," she said, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath. "I just can't guarantee I'll be conscious enough to enjoy the view."

  "Don't worry. I'm prepared to give mouth-to-mouth if you faint."

  She looked up and smiled. "If you must. Just don't expect me to enjoy it."

  He laughed. He had made this hike many times and he had to admit this last leg was a struggle. But she had done remarkably well—much better than he'd expected. But then, he was beginning to think there wasn't anything she couldn't do once she set her mind to it. If he'd learned one thing in the last ten days, it was that Kristin Carey was one remarkable woman.

  He had always known that given enough time Ted would eventually zero in on the creep who had been terrorizing her. When Ted was on a case, he was like a dog with a bone—tenacious, stubborn and too good a cop to let it go. Yet, when Ted told him they were closing in on a suspect, it had felt as if he'd taken a shot in the chest. All the oxygen had seeped from his lungs and he thought for a moment he would be the one in need of resuscitation.

  "Careful along here," he warned, pointing to a dense thicket of bushes beside the trail. "Not too close."

  "You mean here?" she asked, reaching a hand out. "It's so pretty, a colorful—"

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he suggested as he reached for her hand and steered her away from danger. "I don't think it would agree with you."

  She straightened up, her eyes growing round. "It wouldn't?"

  "Not unless you love to scratch." She looked up at him, confused. "It's poison oak," he said, pulling her carefully past the greenery. "And it can be nasty."

  She made a face and moved to the far side of the trail. "I'm not crazy about scratching."

  As the trail grew steeper, he heard her struggling behind him. "We're almost there," he said, glancing back. "Just a little farther."

  She looked skeptical. "That's what you said about a mile ago."

  He winked and reached down, pulling her up onto a large boulder. "I know. But I mean it this time."

  She stopped, breathless, and bent over to rest her palms on her knees. "I'd laugh, but I'm too pooped."

  "I think this will make you feel better."

  He stepped to one side and watched her as her expression changed from exhausted to exhilarated. The rock out-cropping jutted from the cliff, hovering over the canyon as though it were suspended in midair. With the air clear and the sky blue, the Sierra Madre stretched as far as the eye could see.

  "I thought the view from the tower was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen," she said, breathless with awe rather than from the climb. "But this…" She gave her head a shake. "Thank you."

  "You're thanking me? What for?"

  "For giving me this," she said, spreading her arms. "Such wonderful gifts."

  Emotion felt thick in his throat and he turned away before he did something foolish like grab her and confess his undying love. He looked out across the magnificent landscape but it wasn't the breathtaking view he was seeing. He was thinking about Kristin and how he found her more amazing every day. He had never felt like talking about the past before, about Ricky and the force and what it had meant leaving all that behind—not even to the department psychiatrist they had made him go see. He'd never seen any sense it dredging it all up again. No one would ever understand how he felt—at least that's what he'd always believed until…

  He turned back and watched her as she stood gazing out across the canyon. Why did he feel so comfortable with her? Why did he feel that if there was one p
erson on this earth who would understand, it would be her? Was it merely her training as a therapist, or because he'd listened to Dear Jane for so long on the radio? She certainly hadn't pressed him in any way to open up to her. When she'd asked, he'd said no and she'd backed right off. Did that mean she wasn't interested? Was he being presumptuous to think she'd even want to know that much about him? If she knew the truth, would it change the way she felt?

  "You're staring at me."

  It took a moment for her words to register. "Am I?"

  "Yes." She turned and looked at him.

  "You're right," he admitted, tossing his hands up. "In fact, I find I have a hard time keeping my eyes off you."

  He hoped he'd sounded playful, hoped to lighten his own mood, but she was having none of it.

  "As flattering as I find that," she said, taking several steps toward him, "I think there's something more to it."

  He told himself he shouldn't be surprised. He'd only met the woman barely over a month ago and yet already she knew him better than Valerie had after three years of marriage.

  He hadn't fully realized what a burden the past had been until that moment, now that he had an almost irresistible urge to liberate himself of it. Suddenly he wanted nothing between them—no questions, no ghosts, no secrets. She had come to know him pretty darned well in the past month, but he'd come to know her too. It wouldn't matter what he said, how many secrets he shared with her. Nothing was going to change what they'd shared.

  "There was a man," he started, kneeling down and picking up a few small stones from the top of the rock and tossing them over the edge. "He trusted me to keep him safe and I let him down." And with that, the entire story came spilling out as though he'd held it inside for far too long.

  Chapter 12

  Kristin poked her nose out from under the quilt and immediately felt the icy bite of the morning air. It didn't seem to matter in this rugged part of the world that Easter was just around the corner and spring had sprung. It was just after six, and far too early to get up, but she'd had all the sleep she needed. In fact, she was wide awake. But she was content just to lie there, snuggled close in Jake's arms, and just think about all the amazing things that had happened.