by Cora Seton
“I want a whole hell of a lot more than that,” Jack growled.
Wow, Alice thought, her whole body tingling. She wanted more, too. She set her coffee cup down.
“Then come on.” She stood up and held her hand out.
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you think?”
This wasn’t going to end well, Jack thought when he realized where Alice was taking him. They’d pulled on their outer gear, and Alice had unlocked the back door and led him outside into the dark and cold. Dawn wasn’t even a glimmer on the horizon. It would be an hour at least until they sky turned gray. Jack shivered, zipped his coat all the way up and crunched over the icy snow after her.
“It won’t let me in.”
“Have a little faith,” Alice called back. “Above all else, the maze is a romantic.”
Now she was personifying shrubbery? Jack wasn’t sure what to think of that.
As they approached the maze, the opening disappeared, replaced by an unending slate of green.
“Open up,” Alice called and whacked the shrubbery when it didn’t disappear again. “I said, open up. We need to talk to the stone.”
The shrubbery didn’t listen.
“Isn’t there a lever to pull or a button to push?” Jack said—and swore the shrubbery bristled and became even denser.
“Would you knock it off?” Alice asked him. “You aren’t helping.”
Jack pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key. “How’s that?” he asked.
“Completely ineffective.” She turned back to the wall of the maze. “I want him to see the heart of Two Willows. I’m marrying this man—you know that—so you have to let him in.”
Jack straightened. She was marrying him?
The hedge stayed where it was.
“It’s going to take something more,” she said in frustration.
“A sacrificial lamb?” When had Alice decided to marry him? All this time he’d struggled to find a way to get to her, and she’d simply up and decided on her own to spend her life with him?
“A little respect!” Alice faced him, arms crossed. “When I envisioned us having sex, we were in there! Don’t you get it? In… there…” She was talking like he was either very slow or very stupid.
Suddenly Jack realized he was both. “Sex… in there?”
“Would you like me to restate that with an interpretive dance?”
Hell, yeah, he’d like that. But… “Are you saying you want to have sex right now?” And marry him?
“I give up!” Alice whirled away and stomped back toward the house. Jack ran over everything she’d said and done in the last ten minutes.
She wanted him to believe her—without proof. Wanted him to be her friend. Wanted him in the maze—because she’d seen them there in her vision.
Alice… wanted him.
Wanted to marry him, too.
And he was still quibbling over whether people could predict the future.
What the hell was he doing? Making sure he never got that village he was looking for, he realized.
Jack faced the maze. “I love her,” he declared. “I love her, and I believe her, and I believe you. There are moving mazes and women who tell the future, and hold rings and know whether people are getting divorced or not. There are probably fairies and leprechauns and dragons, too, and I’m an idiot for not noticing—”
Jack stopped short. Before him stood the opening to the maze, as if it had always been there. He took a step. Then another. “Alice?” he called, refusing to turn around, afraid the entrance would disappear again. “Alice, you seeing this?”
A second later she grabbed his hand and yanked him forward. “Hurry! Before it changes its mind!”
And they were through.
Jack quickly lost track of the twists and turns of the maze’s passages and knew he’d need Alice to help him retrace his steps or it would take a long time to find his way out. He couldn’t look for details or memorize their way and watch Alice at the same time.
In the fading light of the stars she looked luminous, and for a moment Jack could believe in anything. Maybe Alice wasn’t entirely of this world. Maybe nothing on Two Willows was.
He stopped dead when they reached the center, and the tall gray expanse of the standing stone came into view.
“Hell. How’d that get here?” he asked, tipping his head back. It was old. Everything about it told him so. This hadn’t been upended and buried in the ground anytime recently, but Jack knew Chance Creek’s history only ran back a hundred and fifty years, give or take, as far as settlers were concerned. He had no doubt Native Americans had lived here for thousands of years, but he’d never heard of them building this type of monument.
“No one knows. It’s something, though, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say.” Alice was still holding his hand, and he curled his gloved fingers around hers. In front of an artifact so obviously ancient, he didn’t mind showing his awe. It was good to remember now and then he didn’t know everything.
Alice tugged away from him, drew her gloves off and placed her hands on the stone. “It always answers your questions. And it’s always right.”
Connor, Hunter, Logan and Brian had all mentioned that at one time or another. Jack had always brushed their stories off, but it occurred to him now that none of the other men were the type to sensationalize experiences—well, except for Logan, maybe. He supposed he should have listened to what they said.
Before he could respond, however, Alice closed her eyes. “Am I telling the truth?” She straightened and opened her eyes again. “Now you’ll see.”
Jack waited a bit. “I’ll see wha—Ouch! Hell, what was that?” He dropped into a defensive crouch when something smacked him in the head. Alice’s giggle brought him upright again as she bent to scoop something from the ground.
A newspaper.
“Where the hell did that come from? Who’s here?” he called.
“No one’s here,” Alice chided him. She opened the paper and leafed through it to the sports pages, finally fishing out her phone and putting it in flashlight mode so they could see. “Read it and weep, Soldier.”
Jack took the paper from her and peered at the tiny type as she held the light. A second later he fished the copy of her list from his pants pocket and compared the scores from overnight. On every game he’d checked so far, she’d gotten them right.
“Thirteen for thirteen,” he said grudgingly.
“It’ll be one hundred percent right when the week is up,” Alice told him. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Jack.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” He rolled up the paper and stuck it in his back pocket.
“You’re just not sure I’m sane.”
Jack shrugged. “You’re saying some pretty crazy stuff.”
“I know.”
“But I believe you, Alice Reed, because I want to be with you, and being with you means believing, doesn’t it?”
“Same for you, right?”
Jack couldn’t stop looking at her, drinking in the sweet contours of her face. Her wide eyes, full lips, pert nose—he loved everything about her. “Yeah. Same for me,” he said huskily. “I guess in the end it doesn’t matter how you’re doing it. Just that you are. Can I kiss you?”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “Yes.”
And he did.
Alice closed her eyes and savored the feel of Jack’s mouth on hers. Her toes were cold, but her heart beat so fast the rest of her was warm. When Jack tugged her closer, she came willingly, wanting more of him.
There was something about his hands on her hips that turned her on. Knowing he wanted to get close to her—to be inside her. So much he was willing to give up his beliefs for the chance.
She’d gotten glimpses of his deepest pain—and the questions he asked himself in quiet moments. Had he been pushed too far? And the question he hadn’t voiced—would a father who loved him do that?
Jack wouldn’t ever ask that o
ut loud. Nor would he ask for what he needed: to be loved unconditionally. They were dancing around each other’s edges, wanting to be vulnerable, fearing it at the same time. Alice was beginning to think she’d spent her whole life that way—holding back. Craving closeness.
Fearing it at the same time.
She wasn’t willing to live her life like that. Wasn’t willing to take the sensible steps with Jack, getting closer a bit at a time.
She wanted him now. Wanted this now. Wanted no boundaries between them.
If they weren’t meant to be, she wanted to know that right away, because what she really wanted—
Was to stop going through life alone.
A flash of intuition hit her, and Alice staggered.
“What is it?” Jack caught her.
Alice finally understood something she must have known all along but had never faced head on. Someday she’d open to her gift—truly open to it—like Amelia had—like she had for a moment when she’d channeled that list of winning teams—and she’d need—
She’d need someone to ground her. To stand by her side. To be her rock.
That’s what had made her compassionate, open-hearted mother fall for a man as flawed and mercurial as her father. The General had many faults, but inconstancy wasn’t one of them. He dug his heels in, and he maintained his position.
Just like the standing stone.
Alice had always thought of the stone as a physical representation of her mother’s love. Monolithic. Solid. Never-ending.
But Amelia was the one who’d built the maze around the stone. What had it represented to her?
Probably not her own heart.
Had it stood in for the man she loved? The man who might have spent more time away from Two Willows than at home, but for all that still counted as the rock who anchored her mother’s life?
Alice had seen the love the General had for her mother. Knew it was his pain that had kept him far away from the ranch since she’d been gone.
His love for Amelia was as monolithic as the standing stone. As old as he seemed to her, Alice realized he’d been a relatively young man when he’d lost his wife. And yet never once had he taken a step to replace her.
He never would.
Alice searched Jack’s face. Was he capable of a love like that? “Can you…” she found herself asking. “Can you be there? All the way? For someone like me?”
His expression changed from worry to something like… relief. “Yes.” He cut her off when she tried to speak. “Yes—I can. No matter what happens, or what I believe or think is real or not real—I can be there for you. I will be there for you. Always, if you let me.”
That was all she needed to know.
Alice stepped back, unzipped her jacket and shrugged her way out of it. A moment later she peeled her sweater off, tugged the hem of her shirt over her head.
Would Jack follow her lead? At first he watched, like a man unsure whether to trust his eyes. Then he unzipped his own jacket, flung it aside and started to strip.
“It’s damn cold out here,” he told her.
“You’ll have to keep me warm.”
He surveyed the snowy ground, the bench, the stone. “Where?”
Alice wasn’t going to answer that. She’d gotten them here; let him do a little of the work. She had to unlace her boots and step out of one at a time to get her jeans off and shimmy out of her panties, but she stuck her feet right back in them afterward.
“Alice.” Jack’s wonder at her body was summed up in the single word. He shucked down his pants but left them pooled at his ankles. “Get over here.”
He lifted her up the moment she was in reach, and Alice locked her legs around his waist. Contact with his body sent a surge of heat through her shivering form. She crushed her breasts to his bare chest. “You’re right; it’s freezing.”
Jack shuffled forward, stooped to snag his jacket off the ground and draped it over her shoulders.
“I don’t think it’ll stay on,” she began, but he moved her up against the standing stone, and Alice sighed. His jacket protected her from the worst of the cold, and Jack’s hardness pressed against her was sending all kinds of sexy signals to her brain. “What about you? Aren’t you cold?” she asked.
“Freezing.” He didn’t sound concerned, and he captured her mouth with his, putting an end to that line of questioning. When he skimmed his palms up to cup her breasts, Alice gave up thinking altogether and gave in to the pleasure of his touch, her skin humming under each caress.
She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been until Jack came along. It was a loneliness that went far beyond the normal wanting between a man and a woman. Howie hadn’t slaked her need. Only someone like Jack—someone who truly loved her—could fill the void inside her.
She clung to him as he explored her curves, first with his hands, then with his mouth. Arching back as he took one nipple into his mouth, she gasped, aching to feel him inside her.
“Jack,” she begged. He kept going, teasing her with his tongue, sliding a hand down to cup her bottom, bringing her hard against him.
“Jack,” she said again.
“Do we need protection?”
She shook her head. She didn’t care about protection—didn’t care about the future. All she wanted was now. She wanted to be known—to be possessed, utterly and completely. She wanted to annihilate the space that loomed between her and everyone else, that kept her isolated and alone even when surrounded by the people she loved most.
Only Jack could fill that gap. She opened to him and gasped when he shifted and slid inside her, filling her until she nearly came right then.
Holding on for dear life, Alice closed her eyes and rode his movements, glorying in the exquisite pleasure of each slip of his skin against hers. She’d never felt this way with a man—like she could lose herself in the sensations between them. Forgetting the cold, forgetting the hard stone behind her, she urged Jack on, digging her fingers into his shoulders.
Jack didn’t disappoint. He was strong—so strong. Holding her up like she weighed nothing. Pushing into her with control and rhythm that built the desire inside her into a dizzying peak.
When Alice thought she couldn’t hold on any longer, his next thrust took her over the edge, and pulse after pulse of ecstasy rippled through her until she buried her face against his neck to keep from crying out.
Grunting with his thrusts, Jack slammed into her, gripping her so tightly she thought he’d never let go. Clinging to him, she gloried in his pleasure, his rough motions stirring desire inside her all over again.
Alice tightened her grip as her need built up to a dizzying level. She’d never come twice—not like this—and for a moment she feared losing control altogether.
“Alice,” Jack panted, and his raw need for her knocked down the barrier she’d begun to build between them. Jack held her gaze, looking straight into her heart, and Alice realized this was the true test of her desire. She’d said she wanted to be known. If she let go—if she showed him the way he was making her feel—she’d expose herself utterly. “Alice, please,” Jack breathed.
He wanted that. Wanted to know her.
She wanted it too.
Gazing back at him, letting go of her fears, Alice gave in and came with a cry. Jack’s strong thrusts played her like a well-tuned instrument; his hands on her body urged her to higher heights as her release pulsed through her. When he lost control, too, Alice cried out again with him, then rode the wave of his orgasm until he finally slumped against her, pinning her against the standing stone, breathing hard, his heart pounding in her ear as she struggled with him to catch her breath.
“More,” he said when he could breathe, and Alice laughed. She wanted more, too.
“Any time,” she promised, but Jack had stiffened.
“What is that?”
Alice held her breath. Now she heard it, too. “Is that a… trumpet?”
Jack laughed. “Hell, must be time to muster.” With a groa
n, he disengaged from her, set her on her feet with a kiss and hurried to pick up their clothes.
“We don’t have to come when he calls,” Alice told him, barely able to keep up. After such a connection, breaking apart took her breath away.
“You want Corporal Myers hunting us down—finding us like this?”
Alice laughed, too, and relaxed. “No, I guess I don’t.” Although she’d give anything to make love to Jack all over again. “Where has he been hiding a trumpet all this time?”
“Who knows.” Jack considered his clothes, then bent to scoop up a handful of snow. He swore as he cleaned himself off and pulled on his clothes as fast as he could afterward. Alice gingerly followed suit, the icy coldness bringing her back to the real world. She did her best to put her clothes and hair to rights, although she was sure anyone could guess what they’d been doing out here.
When Jack led the way back through the maze, she noticed that dawn had caught up to them. The sun wasn’t up, but the sky was noticeably lighter. Had they missed breakfast?
“There you are,” the corporal said accusingly, lowering the trumpet when he caught sight of them. “Been looking for you everywhere. You’re late.”
Inside, everyone had gathered as usual around the General’s bed, although the man was perfectly capable of moving to another room, Alice thought.
“What’s the hold-up?” the General said when she and Jack slipped in, Emerson following.
“Sorry, sir,” Jack said.
“Lake, make your report so we can all get on with our day.”
“Everything is shipshape, sir.”
“O’Riley?”
“Snow’s expected later today, so I’m making sure we’re ready for it, sir.”
“Powell.”
“What Connor said. Snow’s coming, sir.”
“Hughes?”
“Looking forward to shoveling, sir,” Logan said cheerfully. “And some hot chocolate later.”
“Sanders.”
“Banner day so far, sir.”
Was he smiling? Alice was pretty sure he was smiling. The General gave him a dark look.
“Cass?”
“Laundry’s piling up.”
The General frowned. “Sadie?”