Take My Hand

by Missouri Vaun

  Trip followed Grace’s exit along the paved road. When they reached the Mill Road, she took a hard right. A huge dust storm followed the double axel truck down the unpaved dirt road. They could see a faint trail of dust about a quarter mile ahead. She figured that was Grace.

  Clay clenched and unclenched her fist, pounded against her thigh. All the things she wished she’d said to River looped endlessly through her head. She’d jumped to conclusions about River and she hated that about herself. River had been nothing but honest with her, and kind, and encouraging. The first misunderstanding between them and Clay had thrown all of it under the bus and let her temper, insecurities, and the emotional baggage she’d carried with her from New York ruin everything. So stupid. So, so stupid.

  * * *

  River glanced sideways at Bo. He kept checking the side mirror as if he was afraid someone would follow them. Then River saw something in the rearview mirror and a tendril of hope rose in her chest. The faintest hint of a dust cloud somewhere past the curve in the road behind them. Just a hint of it was visible above the trees past the curve. She needed to distract Bo before he saw it too. The revelation that she was not in this alone, that someone was coming, rallied her courage.

  The road was becoming rough and rutted as it neared the river. They passed the bridge where she’d danced with Clay. The memory was like a punch in the stomach now. After the way Clay had talked to her over the phone earlier. Her heart beat like a drum; she was pissed.

  “Slow down!”

  In her anger, she’d obviously accelerated without realizing it. This was the perfect distraction.

  “If you wanted to drive like a grandma then you shouldn’t have put me behind the wheel.” She swerved as a particularly deep groove in the road caught the front tire.

  Bo bounced against the doorframe. It registered for the first time that he wasn’t wearing his seat belt.

  “I said fucking slow down!”

  “Or what?” River white knuckled the steering wheel with both hands and glared at him. “I didn’t ask for this…I didn’t ask for any of this.”

  Her shoes bumped her leg as they bounced on the seat between them. She grabbed for one and threw it at Bo. The shoe ricocheted off his temple. The surprised look on his face told her he hadn’t expected her to put up much of a fight. This realization only served to fan the flame. Rage surged in her chest as she righted the truck on the rough dirt.

  River was no Atomic Blonde, but she certainly wasn’t above pummeling a guy with a high-heeled shoe. She grabbed the remaining shoe and swung it repeatedly at his face. She did her best to get his left eye with the heel of it. Bo raised his arm to deflect her frenzied assault, but the truck was bouncing so hard he needed to hang on with one arm, since he still had the gun in the other.

  The truck was going too fast now, and River fought to keep it on the road with one hand. She flung the shoe at Bo and yanked the wheel with both hands, but it was too late. The truck lurched off the road and bounced hard over a particularly deep rut. Bo’s elbow hit the metal doorframe hard and the gun discharged, shattering the windshield in front of River. She screamed and covered her face as the old pickup flung itself over the shoulder, down the embankment, and into the Altamaha River.

  Without the restraint of the seat belt, Bo’s head bounced against the dashboard like one of those crash dummies they use to test airbags. The truck hit hard and then there was a whooshing sound as the truck slowly sank below the surface. Water filled the floorboard and now was pouring in through the windows and the shattered windshield. River wrestled with the seat belt. Water was up to her chest when it finally released, and she pulled herself through the window and stroked backward away from the truck.

  She was treading water, waiting to see if Bo followed, but he didn’t. A squad car came to an abrupt stop near where the truck had gone off the road and Grace got out.

  “Swim this way, River. Over to me.” Grace unclipped her utility belt and dropped it to the ground.

  The top of the truck was almost completely under water and disappearing quickly. River glanced back and forth between the sinking truck and Grace.

  “What are you doing? River, no.”

  She heard Grace call to her right before she dropped under the water’s surface. She swam back to the truck. He was unconscious and his head lolled just above the rising water. River couldn’t save herself and watch Bo drown, even if he was an asshole. Sure, he’d fired the gun at her, but she was pretty sure it was accidental.

  River swam to the other side of the cab and tugged at the door. It wouldn’t open. She climbed onto the sunken hood of the truck and reached through the missing windshield for the collar of his shirt. The truck was sinking fast now. With both feet braced on the frame around where the windshield had been, she heaved with all her might. As his upper body cleared the frame, she grabbed him under his arms and tugged. The rising water eased his body weight, and with a bit more effort, she pulled him free. She dragged him by the collar like an empty canoe up onto shore, leaving his legs to sink under the water’s edge. Then she scrambled up the bank for fear he’d come to and she’d be right back where she started.

  “Are you all right?” Grace asked.

  “I’m okay…” Her breath came in gasps. “But I need…to get away…from him. He’s all yours.” River swept her hands through her wet hair and started walking barefoot back the way they’d come.

  At the edge of the road, she turned to see the cab of Clay’s truck sink farther, now barely visible beneath the water’s surface.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Clay leaned forward in an attempt to see past the dust. Grace must be just ahead of them. She saw something, someone, in the road.

  “Stop! Stop the truck!” Clay opened the door while the vehicle was still in motion.

  “Clay, wait.” Trip called after her, but she was out the door as soon as Trip hit the brakes.

  And then Clay saw her, a hazy figure through the dust. River was walking barefoot down the road. Clay ran toward her. She swept River up in her arms, lifting her feet off the ground.

  “River, thank God you’re okay.” Clay set her down, held her face between her hands, and checked for injury. “I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry about everything.”

  River leaned into her and Clay cradled her head against her chest. Her wet hair soaked into Clay’s shirt.

  “Are you hurt?”

  River shook her head. Tears were welling up in her eyes.

  “Where is Bo?” She wanted badly to take a few swings at him with a tire iron.

  “He’s up there, just past that clump of trees.” River pointed, and her voice broke. “We went off the road, and I left him on the embankment near your truck. Grace is with him.”

  Trip was there now. She draped a blanket from her truck around River’s shoulders. It wasn’t cold, but she was shivering, either from fear, or shock, or something else. Clay tugged the blanket tightly around her and drew her close, kissing her forehead and stroking her back.

  “I was such a jerk on the phone today. Please forgive me.”

  “Yeah, what was that about?” River’s voice was muffled against her chest.

  “Just my stupid insecure ego. It wasn’t anything you did; it was all me.”

  They were quiet for a minute, and Clay relished the feel of River in her arms.

  “I’m sorry about your truck.” River tipped her head up a little to look at Clay.

  “Who cares about an old truck?”

  “You probably did.”

  Clay laughed. She tightened her embrace, snuggling River closer.

  “You had to crash to find me, and then you had to crash again so I could find you.” Clay kissed her hair lightly. “You’re driving is terrible, but your aim is true.”

  River’s hand was at the back of Clay’s head now. Her eyes lured Clay in until their lips touched, lightly at first and then with intensity. Clay angled her head, taking River in, possessively deepening the kiss.

&n
bsp; When they came up for breath, Clay tightened her arms around River. “I was so scared.”

  River looked up. “Me too.”

  “You’re safe now.” Clay rubbed River’s back through the blanket.

  River tucked her head under Clay’s chin.

  When Clay looked down, she realized River was barefoot. And despite the terrible circumstances that led to this moment, she couldn’t help smiling.

  “Where are your shoes?”

  “Oh.” She looked down too as if she’d forgotten until just now that she had them. “Halfway to Savannah by now, I guess.”

  Clay squeezed her shoulders. “What’d I tell you? A country girl in a city girl’s body.”

  River’s eyes glistened. “Well, this city girl has two requests.”

  “Name them.”

  “Take my hand…and take me home.”

  Clay entwined their fingers. Her heart felt light as she and River walked hand in hand toward Trip’s truck.

  * * *

  The plan was to drop River off on the way to Trip’s to borrow a vehicle, but River was feeling a bit shaken and didn’t want to be alone. Clay reached across the console of Trip’s fire engine red Jeep Wrangler and clasped River’s hand. She’d insisted they stop by the diner and pick up takeout because she suspected River still didn’t have much more than cheese and crackers at her aunt’s place.

  She parked in the driveway and walked around to open the door for River, who still seemed a bit dazed. Clay took the bag of food off her lap and held her hand again as River hopped down.

  “The first thing I want to do is take a shower.”

  “Go ahead, this fried chicken will keep.” Clay followed River inside and put the food on the counter.

  River walked slowly down the hallway toward the bathroom as if she were sleepwalking. River left the door ajar so that Clay could hear the water running. She paced around the kitchen for a couple of minutes until she could stand it no longer. She ripped off her T-shirt as she walked down the hall, leaving her jeans and shoes at the door.

  River swept her hands over her hair as the hot water pelted her face. Her hands were shaking, and she placed them flat on the tile in front of her to steady them. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing like that when she felt Clay’s arms encircle her waist. Clay kissed her shoulder and pressed against her back. She sighed and allowed Clay to hold her.

  “You’re okay, you’re safe,” Clay whispered.

  She rotated in Clay’s arms. “I am now.”

  She tilted her head up until their lips met. They kissed languidly, unhurriedly, as if time was theirs to use as they pleased.

  Clay lathered River’s skin with soap. Then shampooed her hair. River allowed Clay to attend to her. Clay’s strong, sure hands moving across her slick skin soothed her, grounded her.

  In the midst of the harrowing ride with Bo, she’d at first been scared, then angry, and then scared again when the gun discharged. Seeing Clay running toward her after losing the truck in the river made her realize how much she wanted Clay. Not just today, but tomorrow, and possibly forever. She leaned into Clay now as Clay wrapped a towel around her shoulders and used a second towel to dry her hair.

  “Clay, I need to talk to you.” Her voice broke.

  Clay held River’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead.

  “Let’s get you some clothes first.”

  “No.”

  Clay arched her eyebrows.

  “For what I have to say, I don’t want any barriers between us.” She tugged Clay, still naked, toward the bedroom.

  Under the light covering, River snuggled into Clay’s shoulder, her still-damp hair fanned out across the pillow. She lay on her side, facing Clay. She traced the outline of Clay’s jaw with her fingertip.

  “River, I—”

  “Me first.” She covered Clay’s lips with her fingers. “I know that you’ve been really hurt and that trust for you is difficult. Trust is a fragile thing. Once truly broken it’s almost impossible to repair. I know that. And I do not take the responsibility of someone’s trust lightly.” She paused. “I want you to know you can trust me.”

  “I know.”

  “Clay, I’m…I’m in love with you.” River cut her off when Clay opened her mouth to reply. “I think I knew that the first time I saw you climb off that motorcycle and walk toward the door.” She stroked Clay’s face tenderly with her hand. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but sometimes…sometimes I think you just know.”

  Clay smiled. “Fools rush in.”

  “What?”

  “The night we danced in the moonlight and you asked me if I thought it was true, that fools rush in.” Clay rolled on top of River, with her thigh between River’s legs. “I don’t feel foolish, but I’ve definitely fallen hard for you. Holding you in my arms that night, even before we kissed…I think that’s when I knew.”

  “So you feel it too?” Relief surged through River’s system.

  Clay brushed loose strands of hair away from her face. “I feel it.” Clay moved her hand down and began to caress River’s breast. Her lips lightly brushed River’s. “Is this okay?” Clay whispered.

  “Yes.” River draped her arms around Clay’s neck and arched into Clay. “Yes, most definitely yes.”

  Clay watched the last rays of evening light fall across River’s face, dancing in her eyes. Things felt different between them now. Clay realized she wasn’t afraid any more. She did trust River. Kissing, caressing, exploring, possessively laying claim to River’s body. Whenever she shifted, River filled the spaces, creating something whole. River had been what was missing.

  She raised up so that she could see River’s face as she climaxed. Head back, eyes closed, her mouth forming soundless words. When at last River relaxed in her arms, River’s head fell back to the pillow, and Clay feathered soft kisses across her cheek, down her neck, returning to her lips.

  “River…”

  “Yes?” River’s voice was soft, breathless.

  The simplest words sometimes had the most power.

  “I love you.”

  Clay had taken a tremendous running leap, to rush in, to risk everything for a boundless love. River’s lashes fluttered and then she met Clay’s waiting gaze. She smiled.

  “I love you, too.”

  “Stay with me.”

  “For how long?” River caressed Clay’s face.

  “Forever.”

  “Forever might not be long enough.” River drew Clay down until their lips met.

  Clay sank into River. Nothing separated them now, and together they were creating something new. The dark places, the what-ifs, no longer haunted Clay. With River in her arms, Clay was only thinking of what was possible. And at the moment, the possibilities seemed limitless. Boundless.

  Epilogue

  Clay watched River scrunch her cute nose from across the small table. A bud vase with two daisies separated them. The light from the window bounced like little starbursts off her water glass.

  “Not good?”

  River chewed slowly.

  “They’re okay. I’m ruined now. I will settle for no less than the real thing.” River had suggested they eat lunch at the Whistle Stop Café near her apartment in Chelsea. “I’m thinking fried green tomatoes taste much better in Georgia. It must be the humidity.”

  “Or our Southern affinity for salt and cornmeal.”

  River laughed. “Maybe.”

  “Trying to make something healthy and fried at the same time just never works. You’ve gotta go all in, throw caloric caution to the wind.” Clay reached across with her fork to sample from River’s plate. She chewed slowly as if she were some sort of culinary connoisseur. “Nope, not enough batter and definitely not enough salt.”

  “Also, out of season.”

  “Yes, not the same at all as vine-ripe tomatoes.”

  It had been six months since River had driven Clay’s old Ford into the Altamaha. Bodean Mathis had been convicte
d of kidnapping, carrying an unlicensed firearm, and possession of a controlled substance with the intent to sell. He was currently cooling his heels at a maximum-security facility for men in west Texas. Bo’s mother had taken the whole scandalous affair pretty hard, but Clay’s grandpa was doing his best to distract her with evening strolls and long talks on her porch swing. Mrs. Mathis was a nice woman. Clay didn’t fault her for Bo’s shortcomings. Drugs could do things to people. Turn them into someone you never thought they’d be. Bo was never the sort of upstanding young man his mother had dreamed he’d be, and the drugs just made all of it worse.

  “Are we having dessert?” River’s voice called Clay back to the moment. “I was thinking you might like to sample the key lime pie.”

  “Clay?”

  Veronica, resplendent in a deep blue silk Bottega Veneta dress, had materialized out of nowhere. Or maybe every other woman simply ceased to exist for Clay when River was around.

  “Hello, Veronica.” Clay dabbed at her lips with her napkin.

  “I didn’t know you were back in New York.” Veronica glanced from Clay to River.

  “Veronica, this is River Hemsworth. River, this is Veronica.” River knew who Veronica was, but she wanted to be sure Veronica acknowledged River.

  “Hello.” River extended her hand and Veronica took it.

  “You own the Hemsworth Gallery, right?”

  “I used to.”

  “You sold it?” Veronica seemed surprised.

  “To my partner, Amelia Glass.”

  Clay could tell Veronica was dying to ask more, but didn’t. Instead she switched her attention back to Clay. She even rotated her stance, dismissing River’s presence.

  “Maybe we could get together some night this week. It’s been too long, and it would be great to catch up.” Veronica lightly touched Clay’s shoulder for emphasis.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m busy.”

  “All week?”

  “Pretty much forever.”

  Veronica’s lips parted as if she was about to say something, but then she didn’t. She glanced back at River and then turned to Clay, who simply smiled.