Sweeter Than Wine
By
Rita Hestand
Smashwords edition
Copyright 2009 by Rita Hestand
Smashwords Edition
License Note
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DEDICATION
People who fall in love quickly sometime wonder if it can really be true. Soul mates are hard to find and not everyone believes in them. But true love can be found anywhere. For all those couples that fell in love instantly, here's to you! Isn't it romantic? God Bless
Rita Hestand
Chapter One
“God,” he cried aloud, “Help me…”
Vacation? If this was a vacation, he needed help. He'd ridden for miles up and down the coast, searching…for what? He didn't know. He'd stopped here, only a mere hundred miles from his home in the mountains.
All he knew was that he was hurting and he didn't know how to stop. This long numb void inside him screamed for a release.
Glancing about him subconsciously, Sam McKay leaned against his bike and let out the most mournful sound a soul could unleash, something in between a loud sob and a deep seeded moan. It seemed to echo against the backdrop of a small forest. It was better than crying. He did it again. It was as though the pain inside him flowed away from him, leaving him. He could feel it leaving. Was this what he needed all along, a place to let it all out? To release the hurt that had bound him.
Realizing he was finding some sort of release, he sat on the ground, and looked up into the sky. There was no answer to his prayers. However, something was definitely happening here. The hurt continued, but he did realize that just making that gosh awful sound helped him heal somehow. He did it again.
This time he thought he heard something in the bushes, probably just his imagination. There was nothing but mountains and oceans surrounding him. No one was out here this early of the morning. Here wasn't anywhere in particular, it was somewhere on the Pacific coast, but it had no real definition. He was miles from town, miles from civilization. No one was about.
The crashing sound of the waves distracted him, he closed his eyes and began to let the sound surround him. It was like a mournful operetta. Good thing there wasn't anyone around; if anyone heard him someone might think him crazy. Still, if this worked, why not. He had to do something.
However, he couldn't let go of this release, not yet.
The sound echoed in the air, like the wind, carrying it.
Then he heard the intrusive noise again. He wanted to ignore it, but it bit into his concentration. Unable to ignore it, he decided he'd freeze. If it was an animal, he knew by his lack of regard, that the animal would become uninterested. If it was human, well, maybe he might scare them away too.
He closed his eyes once more, and let out the mournful music of his soul. The sound compared to a loon or a moose before mating. Lonely, hollow, and full of pain, he breathed in the air. It felt clean and the ocean added a salt taste to it. At least his senses were working, as though the sea itself washed his soul, hopefully it would wash the hurt away too.
He did feel better, almost instantly.
Suddenly he heard a loud thump and he could no longer ignore what was obviously coming from the bushes behind him.
He stood in one lithe movement, like a cat, stalking his prey he moved toward the bushes and began to move them apart, so he could investigate.
He certainly hadn't expected a half-naked woman though.
He stepped back, his face a contorted mask. He let the bushes fly and covered his discovery up for a moment. Perhaps he was hallucinating. It was possible, in the state of mind. He moved the bushes apart and he saw her…again.
"Excuse me," a voice squeaked. It reminded him of a cartoon. And old Tom and Jerry cartoon. The whole scene in front of him did. Who was she? What was she doing out here in the middle of nowhere, wearing nothing but a towel?
"What the …" Sam frowned and closed the bushes, trying to assure himself he really saw the lady.
"Em….I'm sorry, but I heard a noise, a very distinct and strange noise, I thought someone was in trouble. Did you hear it?"
"Excuse me, but do you always run around on the beach with nothing but a towel?" Sam exclaimed as he turned toward the sea, and let the bushes fly again. He'd give her some privacy, but he wanted her gone.
"Well, no…but that noise…I thought someone was in trouble. I came to help." She said parting the bushes again and standing up.
"I…think you left something behind, in your hurry to investigate," he pointed towards the woman's clothes down the cliff lying on the sand.
"Oh…oh, then you heard the noise too," she sounded nervous, a little distraught and very embarrassed.
Calling his misery a noise irritated, though. It was a release, and she just happened to be a witness he hadn't wanted.
"Yes," he drawled, waiting to see if she was going to make a mad dash for her clothes. However, the bushes didn't move.
"What was it?" the voice sounded from the bushes.
"It was me…thank you very much, now will you please get dressed. You might be comfortable walking around in the buff, but I'm certainly not." He boomed. "Unless your intention is seduction, I wouldn't advise running around the woods in the raw."
The bushes moved, she muttered something under her breath and scampered down the slope of the hill. Good his rudeness had scared her off.
He turned away. Damn, this was the very first time he had been able to express anything inside him in months and it had to be interrupted by this ….this…nymph.
Where could a person go to be alone, these days?
Still, he had to admit, it was almost funny, a woman, in the raw, running around the beach at what, five-thirty in the am. Maybe she had some scant bikini on under that blue towel of hers that barely covered the essentials. Maybe she was a nudist, maybe he should thank her for putting on the towel.
What were the odds…how many times did that happen. He smiled to himself when he remembered how she had grabbed herself to hide herself from him. Perhaps she wasn't as comfortable as he first thought. Her face had turned an instant bright red. Rather refreshing seeing someone blush over his or her own nudity. Of course a towel covered her, well, except for the mature cleavage, and the well-developed legs.
Perhaps his ill manners had scared her off and he could continue now with his release. Yes, surely she wouldn't interrupt him again.
He sat on the hard ground, crossing his legs and inhaling the salt air, he closed his eyes. He felt his breathing calming him. This was having some positive effects on him and he was elated to have discovered it.
"Are you alright?" the same naked voice asked, much closer, as though she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.
Letting out his breath, he stilled his nerves once more. "I was…"
The woman again. Now that she had clothes on she bothered him more. Her clothes bothered him. She wore jeans that were a little too big, a baggy shirt that hid anything amusing and a flop hat that did nothing to disguise her fresh skinny dip in the ocean. Any other time Sam would have been amused no end. However, this wasn't the time.
"Oh…I'm sorry. It's just that sound. You said it came from you. I was worried that something was wrong. Do you need help? I've never heard anything quite like that." she walked almost on top of him.
He studied her shoes, nothing interesting there either. He too
k another breath.
Maybe if he ignored her, she'd get the idea, and go away.
"I've got a bike down there, I can go for help," she insisted.
He shook his head and got to his feet, immediately noticing that the woman was short and round in all the right places, he acknowledged with a slight smile. He hadn't really noticed that when he saw her in the towel. No, he had noticed entirely too much, too quickly, and it irritated him. It was the first time he'd really noticed any woman since he left Barbara hanging on a note that said, 'don't wait for me any longer. That's what irritated him so. He thought he loved Barbara, but when his father was dying in his arms, and announcing he was not his son, women no longer seemed important to him. Finding his roots was important.
"I suggest you get on the bike, and go home, or to another part of the beach, or another part of the state, for all I care."
He wasn't usually rude, especially to a stranger, but the woman seemed determined to ruin everything, this morning, his first morning of vacation.
The woman turned red, as though he'd embarrassed her again. She stood more erect, her shoulders back, her head high, her breast pouting against the material. "I'm extremely sorry. I guess I misunderstood. Well, yes….good morning….then."
Sam exhaled again, "Good morning."
"Umm….I…I just wanted you to know, I don't go around naked on beaches all the time. I thought the beach was deserted. Just like you did, I'm sure. I've never skinny dipped in my life…I wanted to feel the experience, that's all."
He didn't want or need her explanation. He wasn't offering one for himself, so why did she feel she had to tell him anything.
Realizing he was being a bit beastly, he nodded, and then headed for his bike, "Yes ma'am."
"You don't believe me?" she shrieked with indignation and followed him.
Now he turned all his attention on her. Looking at her, she wasn't that bad, plain and yet, distracting in some way. An odd way. It bothered him that she distracted him so. "Does it really matter whether I believe you or not? We are strangers, we've never met before, and we'll never see each other again. Why should you care whether I believe you or not? You are free to go naked in the world, if that's what you want…" He was leaning over her, looking straight into her beautiful blue eyes, eyes that were round and full of life, eyes that held no pain. He envied her.
She gulped.
Good, he intimidated her.
Raising her head a notch she sniffed back a retort. "I wanted you to know because it's the truth. And I don't want anyone saying it isn't. I'm on vacation and thought this was a private beach. I'm a school teacher and this is my very first vacation."
"Well, congrats. Have a wonderful time…" He gestured grandly.
He mounted his bike.
She came closer, "Has anyone ever told you, you're very rude."
"Yes ma'am, they have." He answered, then started the bike and took off before she could utter another word.
As he left though, he did glance back at her in his mirror. She was standing there as though shocked that he had left.
If he were noticing he might see that in that get up, she was pathetically cute. Not at all like Barbara who was model material, of course, but cute, in an odd way. Her hair was a long mass of browns and reds and gold, her eyes clear and blue, her skin was brown as though she sun bathed often. Nevertheless, of course, in his despair, he wouldn't be noticing anything about a woman who insisted on intruding into his life.
Even though the momentary echo of his voice left him feeling a bit relieved, he continued to nurse the hurt inside him, like a sore that wouldn't quite heal. Somehow, the hurt was hurting less now. For the first time in two years, he really wasn't feeling sorry for himself. It was as though that brief few moments of sound had been some sort of escape for him, an ointment to a festering sore.
His hotel room was spacious and neat, and he couldn't wait to get back to it. At least that's what he thought. Yet, there was nothing there for him, four walls with no one to talk to. He fought that feeling. That feeling of a twosome that he longed for again assailed him, but this time he squashed it. He certainly didn't need another woman. He needed to find out who he was, what he was. Rude, the lady had called him rude, he smiled to himself, and maybe she had been right.
He was hungry now and he'd have some breakfast, and then check out the local recreation facilities.
Manny, his half-brother had told him he could try some parasailing, sail boating or scuba diving. They all appealed to him, but he sadly wished he had a familiar woman with him. Women did have a way of keeping his mind off of things he didn't want to face.
He mentally scolded himself. He had to start putting Barbara where she belonged, and not in his future. He'd dated her forever it seemed and she was right too, it was going nowhere fast. If he'd cared for her as he thought he had, he wouldn't have left her so high and dry. No, he never really loved Barbara; she was the woman his father picked out for him. The woman he should marry. Only he wasn't in love with her and he finally realized how ordered his life had been.
Showering and changing he drifted down to the restaurant. It was slow right now; he presumed a lot of guest was still sleeping. Only a few waitresses, bus boys, and one or two guests decorated the restaurant.
There it was again, that lonely gut feeling he had every time he walked into a restaurant. He was alone. Being alone wouldn’t bother him except now that he knew he wasn't a McKay, and that he had no real family, it suddenly did bother him. He wasn't sure who he was and he needed that root. Maybe he was losing it, as old as he was what did it really matter? But it did! His father had left him the details in a letter. He was the bastard child of some man named John Douglas III, a rich entrepreneur. He had a half-sister here and he needed to meet her. He needed to know where his real roots lay, who he was. How could he ever have a meaningful relationship with a woman if he didn’t' know who he was? He shrugged away all this information for later. Not now. After nearly thirty years of being a McKay to find that he wasn't left him a misfit. This vacation was to explore his real roots, if he dare.
His brother Manny McKay told him it wasn't important, they'd always be brothers. However, Sam felt adrift and until he could come to terms with his roots, he couldn't go on. Some people needed roots, he needed them.
The waitress had a time trying to figure out where to put him, the effigy slammed home. He shook his head with disgust. So, he was alone. He'd get used to it, somehow. Eating alone was no fun though.
He wished his father had never confessed such a thing . He'd miss his brother Manny, but he'd keep in touch. They could be friends. When the waitress chose a table directly beside a woman in a beautiful white sundress, Sam grimaced. Did everyone have to be so obvious in pairing him up with another?
Her skin was brown from the sun; her dress accentuated her full bust. Her legs were muscled and well formed. Then he cleared his throat and scolded himself. Women were taboo, from now on. On top of everything else, he didn't need a woman. Not now at least.
The woman did not look at him. Her hat covered her face so he couldn't get a look. Just as well, he wasn't interested in looking. Was he? Good grief, running into the naked goddess on the beach had stirred him, his mind wandering from its purpose. Not so, his body had reacted to every inch of her.
He wasn't amused at the waitress choices of seating. What was he supposed to do invite the lady over to his table? Is that what everyone in the restaurant seemed to be thinking? Everyone staring at them as though eating alone was a sin?
He folded the newspaper in two and ordered black coffee. He needed some coffee, he had to admit. Without it, he tended to be a grump.
The woman in the beautiful dress didn't look his way. He was glad.
How many women wore hats these days?
Scanning the menu, he ordered a huge breakfast of hot cakes and eggs with bacon and settled back in his chair to admire the ocean view.
Sipping his coffee he mused over the morning hap
pening. He had been a real bear to that poor schoolteacher. She meant no real harm, he guessed. She couldn't possibly know how he had been feeling. Even she wouldn't have intruded had she known. However, what was a woman her age doing, skinny-dipping in the ocean at five thirty in the morning? Her age, he mused, the woman had to be close to his own age. She must have been twenty-five or twenty-six. She didn't have that teenage figure, like Barbara. No, she had full breast, and round hips and, he cleared his throat and his mind. What in the world was he doing, thinking about breast and hips this early in the morning? Had he lost his mind entirely? He told himself he was on a mission, to find the real him, to face his birth father and half sister and be done with it. Identity!
Nevertheless, the first time he'd even thought about another woman since his father died told him he was healing. Men and women belonged together; even he couldn't argue that point.
"Nice weather we're having, eh?" a gentleman from the table in front of him said.
Sam smiled at the old gentleman, "Yes, it's beautiful here."
It seemed obvious that the older gentleman was a little uneasy eating alone too, although the lady in the sundress was paying no attention whatsoever. He guessed it didn't bother her.
"You're not from around here?" the man asked, wiping his chin and sipping his coffee thoughtfully.
"Actually I've lived in northern California for twenty years." Men were easy to talk to, perhaps because there was no threat there. Women on the other hand were a threat, to what he didn't know. He only knew they were. Coffee, he needed coffee.
"I'm from Texas. I find the weather here so enjoyable. And the trees are magnificent."
"I can appreciate the trees myself, sir, one of the reasons I live in northern California." Sam explained, testing his coffee the waitress finally brought him, glad for the easy conversation.
"What business are you in?"
"I'm a forest ranger, actually," Sam said proudly. Strange that he was so proud of his job, when being an accountant never solicited that kind of reaction from him. The satisfaction stunned him.
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