by Emily Bishop
Sigh. It’s a good thing my instincts don’t suck. Once again, it falls to me to keep this woman safe. What did I do with my life before Rayne Carr walked into it?
I believe I sat and read a lot of books. It was a simpler, peaceful time. Thoughts of Rayne’s comments flood back into my mind. She thinks I should rejoin the world, face my critics and get back to the society I was born into. What, so they can treat me like she just did?
Fat chance.
She may think she has an idea, but she doesn’t. That life was a gilded cage, and the woods are my freedom. Why would I ever go back?
Rayne disappears down a snow-covered path, and I follow at a distance, not wanting to frighten her. Then again, I believe she thinks she’s being followed, so this might not help at all. Fortunately for me, I can be silent in the woods. Rayne won’t know I’m here until I’m ready for her to know.
I give her a wide berth. With the snow, it’s easy enough to see where she’s headed, and it is in no way the direction she thinks she’s going. The path reaches a fork. I’m lost in thought as I notice that her footprints have turned to the left, and my mind slowly comes to the realization that she has taken the seriously wrong path.
“No,” I breathe.
I pick up my pace and jog through the snow. I can see her back ahead in the distance, and I call out, “Rayne, wait!”
She turns back and glares at me, then steps backward. Her foot lands on open air, and she disappears from my sight with a scream.
“Rayne!”
I sprint over. This path ends at a cliff side that leads straight down toward the lake. When I reach the edge, I lean over, terrified of what I’ll see.
Rayne holds onto a thick branch sticking out from the cliff. She’s about two feet down, her eyes wide and terrified as she stares up at me.
“Help,” she breathes.
I reach down and grab her forearms. I tighten my grip and launch her back up and over the precipice. Her suitcase lies on the ground a few feet away, and my eyes bore into the black material as I cling to her, holding her tight against my body.
Rayne shivers, from fear, from cold. I can only guess, and I can’t seem to make myself let her go. I thought that I had lost her to that cliff, and my stomach dropped right with her. Now to hold her safe in my arms… well.
This kind of thing can’t happen again.
My fear spurs my anger right back into place and I stand, lifting us both up, then set her from me so I can get a good look at her.
Her green eyes are big as saucers, and she’s still trembling.
At the moment, I can’t care about that. I’m too damn mad.
“You could have gotten yourself killed, again. If you can’t navigate in the woods, you shouldn’t be here!”
My voice echoes down the cliff, and I’m reminded that she could have easily been a pancake at the bottom of it. That image fuels my anger even more. She feeds off my energy, and her eyes finally narrow, though her voice still shakes when she speaks.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t be here. I was trying to get to the main cabin to get away from this place.”
“I showed you where that trail was.”
“Yeah, well, I forgot. My mind was a little preoccupied over the fact that my cabin had been ransacked!”
My eyebrows lift at this little piece of news. Ransacked? By whom?
She realizes her mistake too late. She tries to wave the comment off. “It doesn’t matter. You want me gone. I want to be gone. Let me go!”
“You had your cabin broken into and you expect me to simply let that go? Who do you think I am? Actually, scrap that. I know exactly who you think I am. Some kind of criminal. Here’s the thing about that, Rayne. I’ve been one hundred percent honest with you this entire time. You, on the other hand, have clearly been lying and hiding information from me, and now I hear that there’s a crime happening on my own property. This ends now. You have to tell me what you’re hiding from and why!”
“Why should I tell you anything? There’s a chance that you’re the one who did it! You spent time in jail. Who knows what kind of connections you have?”
Some pieces come together for me here. She’s upset about my time in jail, that much is obvious, but she also has opinions about criminals and their intents upon release.
“Rayne.” I intentionally soften my voice and take a step back. “I went to jail for a stupid thing. I have never spoken to anyone I spent time with in there since I left. I want to put that chapter of my life behind me, for good. I understand that you are afraid. I can see it. I am on your side here. Please, let me help you.”
Her emotions play out in a battle for control on her face. I can tell she wants to trust me, but she hasn’t let herself. I’m sure she has her reasons. I know I do, after all, but I don’t break eye contact with her as I wait for her to come to a conclusion.
“I can’t help you if you don’t let me in, Rayne. Tell me the truth. Let me be your ally here, not your enemy. It would appear you already have enough of those.”
Her eyes well up with tears as her inner battle continues. A sob sneaks from her as she collapses toward me, and I catch her in my arms and cradle her there. I let her cry out all her fear and despair and stress, not knowing how long she has had to carry this weight alone.
She tilts her head up to look at me, and I wipe away a hot tear gone cold beneath her eye. My palms encase her cheeks as I dip my head and capture her lips in a gentle, reassuring kiss. She returns the gesture, but it is far from erotic. It is a gesture of trust, of faith that I won’t hurt her in any way.
I can’t even fathom it. Just the thought of someone wanting to hurt her sends a wave of protectiveness through me, and I hold her closer. I keep the kiss gentle, and I push her back gently as I notice that she is no longer shaking.
That’s certainly a good sign.
“Tell me, Rayne. Tell me what it is that’s haunting you.”
She inhales, and when she releases the breath a puff of steam dissolves into the air.
“All right,” she says. “But it’s not a happy story.”
Chapter Seventeen
Rayne
Lorn’s warmth is so close, and I ache to throw myself back into the circle of his arms, to forget that any of this ever happened. I’m so ashamed for casting judgment on him. I’ve taken my own situation and applied it to all others, generalizing a man who has done nothing but try and help me since the moment we first met.
I’m an asshole. Pure and simple.
Lorn deserves the truth. He has earned that much.
“I was there when my father died, which I’ve told you. What I didn’t tell you was that I was a key witness in the trial of the man who murdered him, Larry Corker. That man made a silent promise to me eleven years ago that I would be his next victim. He was released from prison on good behavior a few weeks ago, and I have been afraid ever since that he will come to fulfill his promise.”
“What do you mean, a silent promise? Why didn’t you tell the authorities?”
I sigh. “It’s something I’ve had many years to think about. I believed at the time that he would be in jail for life, that he was taunting me as his final act of rebellion.”
Heavy silence stretches around us as Lorn takes that little tidbit in. He’s the first person I’ve ever told this to, besides Helen. After how heavily I’ve judged him, I don’t expect sympathy. I don’t deserve it.
“Why did he kill your father?” he asks.
I shift and realize that I twisted my ankle on my way down that cliff. I don’t want to give my injury away yet, so I stand perfectly still, even as my foot screams inside my boot.
“My father put his brother in jail for domestic assault, and Larry took offense. The man ended up killing himself in prison, and that seemed to set Corker off. He came for my father that day, and I got to be present to experience the entire confrontation.”
Lorn absorbs that information with a somber expression. He shifts a little closer, and I w
onder if he’s going to hold me again. I so hope he does. Instead, his eyes darken as he looks into mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why couldn’t you share this with me, when you are clearly blameless?”
The tears well up in my eyes again, and I will them to stay back.
“I… I have been getting signs since Larry got out that I’m being stalked. My phone would ring, and there would be dead silence when I answered it. When I tried to track the calls, they all came from private, untraceable numbers. The tires on my car got slashed. There was an attempted robbery in one of the bakeries close to my home, one of the ones I frequent most often.”
Lorn crosses his arms and continues to listen. Now that I’m on a roll, I can’t seem to stop the words from pouring from my lips.
“I did go to the authorities with my suspicions. They said that as a public figure these events aren’t uncommon, and that Larry Corker has been an upstanding citizen since being released, that he isn’t even registered as living near me. When they checked on him, he was a hundred miles away. I don’t know how he managed to cover it up, but I know it was him.”
“How do you know?” Lorn asks.
“I do. None of this stuff started happening until he got out. Until then, I’d lived a comfortable life, doing as I pleased. I was met with the wall of fear that someday Corker would find a way to get to me. I didn’t know what to do, so I looked up as many remote resorts as I could, and that’s how I found yours.”
“You’re still not getting to the important part where you explain why you decided to keep all of this a secret time and time again.”
His tone is stern, his muscular arms still crossed. He does deserve answers, but I’m almost too ashamed to explain why I couldn’t tell him.
“At first, I didn’t want you to kick me out. A woman bringing a murderer and a stalker to your resort isn’t exactly desirable. I suppose on some level I was scared that you would judge me for my actions, or even abandon me to my own fears. It was far more likely that you would simply want me to be gone. The cops have already told me my concerns are unfounded. How could I expect you to believe me any more than they did?”
I stare up at him and wait for judgment. It’s all out in the open now. Lorn can decide to cast me from his property if he likes, and frankly, I wouldn’t blame him.
“Are you leaving now out of fear, or out of anger?” he asks.
It’s not the question I was planning for, and it takes me by surprise.
“I… I don’t know. Honestly, I think I’ve been pushing you away because of my fear, but when I saw that my property had been stolen, that was the last straw. Between that, the strange light you saw and the footprint in the snow, I’ve had enough.”
“That footprint wasn’t mine, by the way.” His words crash over me like a bucket of ice water.
“What?”
“They’re not mine. You, uh, borrowed, my other pair of boots, so when I put on the other pair, I checked. Those tracks are different from mine. I can check with my caretaker, but I doubt he would have had any reason to be on your property. He generally keeps to himself when he can.”
“So, you’re saying that… you believe me?” I ask.
“Yes, that is what I am saying. See how honesty works? I trust you, Rayne. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”
I nearly collapse with relief, and he catches me in his arms again. He holds me close, and I relish the warmth of his broad chest, his strong, sturdy heartbeat.
“So, you’re not going to kick me out?” I gaze up at him and try to read his expression. His face is all kindness and sympathy, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel alone.
What a feeling that is.
“No, I am not going to kick you out. You are safe here as long as you want to be, and that extends past the month you already paid for. If you don’t feel safe elsewhere, you can feel safe here. I can protect you, Rayne. You have to let me.”
A wave of relief washes over me as cold dots land on my upturned, smiling face. Little snowflakes flutter in the air around us as another storm comes in, the world silent once more.
“We should get back…” I say.
I don’t say where we should get back to. I’m hoping against hope that Lorn doesn’t expect me to stay alone in my cabin after what I’ve been through, but I don’t want to presume that he’ll let me stay with him either.
He nods. “Yes, we should. I want to check the perimeter around your cabin first, before the snow picks up and erases any tracks.”
My heart sinks at the thought of going back there, but he’s right. If he can track down any more information, I’ll have a better case to take to the cops about my own suspicions.
It’s more than I had to go on alone, in any case.
Lorn takes a few steps toward the trail, and when I don’t follow, he turns back with a curious lift of his brow. “You OK?”
“I, uh, I can’t walk.”
He’s back by my side in a flash as his gaze combs over me, searching for injury. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“My ankle. It’s twisted. Hit something on the way down before I could grab that vine.”
I glance down at my foot. I’ve been favoring it this whole time, but I’ve been able to hide the injury while I confessed my story. I didn’t want him to get distracted by that, now that I’ve finally found the courage to be honest with him.
A huge weight has lifted from my chest, and I’m glad I told Lorn the truth. His support means everything to me, especially after the way I treated him.
I have a lot to atone for. Lorn frowns as he kneels by my foot. He presses down on the bone a bit to test if it’s worse than I’m letting on, then nods. “That’s probably a sprain. Not too bad, though. I’ll tape it for you so you can manage it.”
“Yes, that would be ideal,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
Lorn’s eyes are still stormy as he wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Put your arm around my waist. You can use me as a crutch, and I’ll take your suitcase.”
I don’t argue with him. Instead, I wrap my arm around his firm middle and thrill to the sensation of Lorn’s strong back and muscular stomach. He sets a slow pace through the woods, and as snowflakes swirl around us, I can almost bask in the peaceful quiet scene we’ve found ourselves in. But not quite.
My gaze darts around the forest. I scan through the trees, trying to discern any trace of Larry. An image of him pops up in my mind’s eye. I saw a recent one before he was released. His hair is longer, a little grayer at the temples. The dark glint in his eye is still there, and I could almost see his promise to me calling out through his gaze in a black and white picture.
I shudder at the memory.
Lorn pulls me a little closer as I hobble along the path. He keeps the pace slow, and it takes longer than necessary to reach my cabin again. At this point, the place looks like a proper crime scene. The front door is decimated and covered with fresh snow. I can’t stop my gaze from shifting all around us.
Is Larry is hiding in the woods right now, just waiting to pounce?
“Stay here. I’m going to take a look around, but I won’t be anywhere I can’t see you.”
Lorn lowers me onto one of the porch steps, then disappears, his head to the ground as he tracks the surrounding area. The snow has picked up enough to generally cover any distinguishable markings, and Lorn returns shortly after he left, his expression annoyed.
“Can’t find anything discernable, but that doesn’t mean that there’s nothing to be found here. You’ve got enough evidence to back up your claims, so we can at least deduce that this place isn’t safe. You’ll be coming back with me.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
Why is Lorn being so nice to me? I hardly deserve it. When he looks down into my eyes, I see confusion and maybe even a little bit of hurt there.
“You don’t want to come with me? You’d rather stay in this place? I suppose you do have at least four ot
her cabins you could vacate to.”
“No!” I say with a bit too much force. “I mean, I would prefer to stay with you, if you’ll have me.”
The corner of his lip twitches, though he doesn’t fully smile. Perhaps the situation is still a bit too serious for that. “I would feel far more comfortable with you under my watch. Remember, I’m not a fan of running through the woods at night in pursuit of a woman’s screams. Let’s try and not replicate that with actual danger.”
I’m so grateful as Lorn crouches back down and helps me up. In his arms, I safe and secure. In his arms, I can find a way to get through this.
In his arms, I am no longer afraid.
Chapter Eighteen
Lorn
I’m glad Rayne agreed to come with me, because I would have hated to have yet another fight with her while dragging her to safety for her own good. The snow has picked up, and an inch or two has already settled on the ground since I started my trek out to find her.
“Come on then, let’s get you warm.”
“That sounds wonderful,” she says, through chattering teeth.
I nestle her a little closer against me and drag her suitcase behind my other side. It’s slow going. She’s injured, and the trails are slick with fresh snow. The last thing we need is a full-on ankle break and an emergency trip down the mountain in dangerous conditions.
I slow a little more.
“We can get there before the sun sets, you know.”
“We can also get in a car crash while attempting to get you medical care. That’s not a scenario I’m willing to risk. Are you?”
That bit of common sense sinks in, and she stops pushing to move us forward faster. It is easier to get cold when the body isn’t exerting itself, but I try and cover as much of her as I can while we walk.
“You know, we still haven’t enjoyed those hot springs,” she says.