Informed Risk: A Hero For Sophie Jones

by Robyn Carr

  “Sophie. I have plenty of money. I can hire a general contractor—or do the job myself. All that’s required is that I make a decision—to do it or not.”

  She couldn’t think of a thing to say to that except, “Oh.”

  “Sophie.”

  “Yes?”

  “What is going on here?”

  She backed up a step.

  “I know this is probably a shock, coming from me, but I think it’s time we got honest with each other.”

  “Honest?” She repeated the word as if unsure of its meaning.

  He raised a sardonic brow. “Yes. Honest. As in you tell me your truth and I’ll tell you mine.”

  She thought suddenly of little Anthea Jones, bobbing down the river in her orange life jacket—out of her depth and out of control. “I don’t…what truth?”

  He ran a hand back through his hair. “Look. I think you’re going to have to decide just what the hell you want from me.”

  She retreated another step. “I…we…I mean…”

  “Do you even know what you want from me?”

  Her hands felt all sweaty and her throat felt so tight. “I…”

  He didn’t relent. “I asked you a question. Do you know what you want from me?”

  She almost moved back a third step—and then somehow managed to hold her ground. “Yes. I do. I know.”

  “What?”

  “I…”

  “Say it.”

  And somehow she did. “I want you to come back to me. I want us to be together. The way we were before.”

  Oh, dear Lord, she had done it! She had gotten the words out at last….

  Unfortunately Sin didn’t seem very impressed. “This isn’t before.”

  How could a man be so obtuse? “Well, I know that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well. Certainly. Yes. Of course, I’m sure.”

  “Listen to you.” His voice was gentle, forgiving. Kind. She hated that. She was the gentle one, the kind one. Not him. “You don’t sound sure. And you don’t behave as if you’re sure. Not by a long shot.”

  “I…” How could she tell him? Why did he refuse to understand? “I…came to L.A. To find you. I was hoping…”

  “Hoping what?”

  “That we could work things out.”

  “You offered me a partnership, Sophie. A business agreement.”

  She experienced an utterly childish urge to hurl the plastic bottle at him. “Because I didn’t know how…to reach out to you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “So, you never really wanted a partnership at all?”

  “I…” Not another word came into her mind.

  He kept pushing. “I, what?”

  She could have cried. Just sat down on the plank floor and sobbed her heart out. “Oh, Sin, I…”

  “What?”

  She confessed in a small voice, “I guess I just want you.”

  “You guess?”

  Oh, this was not going the way she’d imagined at all. She’d told him that she wanted him. Didn’t that count for anything at all?

  Apparently not. “All right,” he said grimly. “You want me. You guess you want me.”

  Anger, frustration, longing—they were all tangled up inside her. “I do.” She forced some conviction into her voice. “I do want you.”

  “You want me. The way it was before.”

  “Yes.” She clutched the empty bottle hard again. “And I have to know. Do you want me?”

  He was shaking his head.

  She wanted to scream, stomp her foot, tear her hair. “What does that mean, shaking your head like that? Does it mean you don’t want me, after all?”

  He made a low noise in his throat. “I don’t think that’s the question.”

  “It is too the question!” She only realized she was shouting when the pigeon up in the rafters took flight in distress. Sophie let out a startled cry as the bird came at them, swooping past Sin and down on Sophie. She ducked. It flew on by, through the pulled-back curtains, and out the wide-open doors. Sophie stared after it, thinking of all the times she’d tried to chase it away. And now, just like that, the bird was gone.

  “Sophie.”

  She had no choice but to face him.

  “Come here.”

  She froze, riddled with suspicion. Torn in two with yearning. So confused. Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing at all. “Why?”

  “Just come here.”

  She didn’t want to go to him—and at the same time, she wanted nothing else.

  She took one awful step forward. And then another. And then the one that brought her right up close to him.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked quietly. “Why the hell would I come here if I didn’t want you?”

  She had no answer for that. She had no answer for anything.

  He raised a hand. She flinched.

  He made a soothing sound. And then he traced the line of her hair where it fell along her cheek, a caress that sent heated shivers singing all through her. His hand moved down, over the curve of her jaw to her neck. It paused at the place where her pulse beat so fast—and then continued on to the little hollow at the base of her throat. He stroked that hollow lightly, gently. The tangle of emotions inside her shifted, resolving themselves into one dominant sensation: desire.

  “I can’t seem to forget the feel of you.” Low and caressing, his voice curled around her. “It’s kept me awake a lot of nights.…”

  All she could whisper was, “Yes…”

  “You remember, too.”

  Again she murmured, “Yes.”

  He turned his hand over, brushed the side of her throat with the back of his index finger. “Those five nights we had together, do you want them again?”

  She licked her lips and nodded.

  He raised his other hand, cupped her face. And brought his mouth down on hers.

  Chapter 15

  Sophie dropped the plastic bottle. She heard it roll quietly away.

  And then she forgot all about it.

  Sin’s mouth moved on hers, at first coaxing—then demanding her response.

  She opened for him, sighing. His tongue mated with hers as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against him.

  He was hard. She moaned at the feel of him.

  And then he put his hands on her shoulders. His fingers dug in, hurting her a little. He put her away from him.

  “I’d say that answers your question.” He dropped his arms, backed away another step.

  All she wanted was his lips on hers. She swayed toward him. “Sin—”

  He took her shoulders once more, steadying her. “Let’s just get this whole thing clear.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You want me. I want you. I don’t see wanting as the issue at all. Do you, honestly?”

  Her body thrummed with yearning. Why wouldn’t he simply sweep her into his arms again?

  “Sophie. Answer me.”

  She shrugged off his hands, ordered her traitorous body to stop making a fool of her. “Yes. I mean, no. All right. We…want each other.”

  “Exactly. And we can be lovers, the way we were before. At least, for a while.” His fine mouth twisted in a wry grin. “However, in my experience, that kind of thing never lasts all that long.”

  “But I—”

  “You did say that you wanted it to be the way it was before.”

  Oh, why did he refuse to understand? “I meant that we were so close. We never argued. We were…intimate, in the best kind of way.”

  “Sophie. It was all based on lies. Is that what you want?”

  “Of course not. You’re twisting what I’ve said.”

  “No, I’m making a point.”

  “What point?”

  “That partnership you offered, that was a good idea.”

  What in heaven’s name was he getting at now? “It was?”

  He nodded. “If we’re going to be together, we’re going to have to shar
e. And I think that’s our problem.”

  He was making no sense at all. “Sharing? Sharing is our problem?”

  “Yes. Neither of us has a clue how to do it.”

  She could not get her mind around the utter unfairness of that statement. She shared all she had. She helped others daily. And he knew it. Wasn’t he always complaining about her campground? And what about the Mountain Star itself, forever on the verge of going under because she was such a sucker for someone in need?

  She told him quite proudly, “I know how to share.”

  He was shaking his head again. “Uh-uh. You know how to give. The two are not the same.” He smiled then. A real, rueful, tender sort of smile. “I think you like what you have here, and you’re not sure you want to share. And I do understand that. I felt the same way. Once upon a time.”

  A thousand arguments scrolled through her head at once, but not one of them found its way out her mouth.

  He had more to say. “Do you want a lover, Sophie? Is that all you want from me? I would be that for you. For a while. As a matter of fact, I’m kind of at loose ends now. Considering a career change, considering a lot of changes. I wouldn’t mind a little…diversion. Something to pass the time while I figure out what to do with the rest of my life.”

  “A…diversion?”

  He lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “Why not? I find you extremely…diverting.” His gaze traveled over her, searing where it touched. “Is that what you’re really after here? Just a little diversion?”

  “I…no, of course not.”

  “Well, then, I’ll get my estimates together. By tomorrow evening, how’s that?”

  She swallowed and somehow managed a reply. “All right.”

  Without another word, he brushed past her. She turned and watched him vanish the same way the bird had gone—through the curtains and out the doors.

  That night, Sin didn’t appear for dinner at six-thirty with the rest of the guests. Instead, he showed up in the kitchen an hour later, just as Myra and Sophie were about to sit down.

  “I wonder, Myra—have you got an extra plate for me?”

  Myra folded her freckled arms and gave him a slow once-over. “I imagine I could dig one up.”

  “I would appreciate it.”

  Myra got down another plate, a set of flatware and a fresh napkin. She set him a place.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  The cook cast a fretful glance toward Caleb’s empty chair. “Now, where is Caleb?”

  “He’ll be in,” said Sophie, picking up her napkin, trying not to let her gaze collide with Sin’s. Since he’d left her in the barn that afternoon, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the hungry way he’d kissed her—not to mention the hard things he’d said. The more she dwelled on his words, the more disturbing truth she found in them.

  She didn’t want to share the Mountain Star. It was hers, she had created it to be just what it was. And she feared that Sin wanted to make it into something else altogether.

  She shuddered every time she thought of what it might become, with phones in every room and busy, impatient executive types running in and out. Everything new and shining and…antiseptic. A place where neither her campground nor her theater would really fit in. She didn’t want that. Not on her life.

  But, oh, she did want Sin. And she knew that to have him more than temporarily, some kind of compromise would have to be reached.

  Tomorrow night.

  Too soon.

  Much too soon.

  “Sophie B.,” Myra said.

  “Um, yes?”

  “Mr. Riker just asked you to pass the rice.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course.” She picked up the bowl and tried not to look directly at him as she handed it to him.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Sophie heard the back door open. That would be Caleb. She steeled herself for the surly attitude he’d assume as soon as he saw who had joined them for dinner.

  But Caleb hardly glanced at Sin. He came and stood by his chair, where he shifted from foot to foot the way he always did when something upset him.

  “Sit down,” commanded Myra. “Eat.”

  Caleb spoke to Sophie. “That Randall woman never did come back today. And I’m gettin’ real worried. It’ll be dark soon.”

  Sophie set down her fork. “Do you know which way she went?”

  Caleb nodded. “That trail that heads northeast, up into the mountains.”

  Sophie tucked her napkin beside her plate and stood. “Come on, then. We’d better go and find her.”

  Sin’s chair scraped the floor. “I’m going, too.”

  Caleb grunted and cast Sin a dismissing look. “We can handle this ourselves.”

  Sin swore. “Look. That woman has gone and gotten herself lost on my land. There’s no way I’m staying behind.”

  By ten of eight, with perhaps a half an hour of daylight left, Sin, Sophie and Caleb were mounted, armed with electric lanterns and on their way.

  The wind had come up. It blew at their backs as they headed out. Caleb led them on the path he’d seen the woman take, around east of the cottage, and then to the north across the meadow of wild roses.

  Once beyond the meadow, they started climbing up into the mountains. The face of the full moon grew brighter above them as the sun sank behind the western hills. The wind blew harder, making the trees rustle and sway.

  It was full dark when they found Black Angel, peacefully nibbling grass in a clear spot between two huge, old cedar trees, her ebony mane swirling. Caleb dismounted and approached her. She looked up, whinnied in recognition and came right to him.

  He patted her neck and murmured in her ear. Then he turned to Sin and Sophie. “The rein’s broken, leather sawed clean through.” He shook his head. “I warned that damn woman.…”

  A really strong gust of wind blew by them, stirring the horses, making them dance. Sin looked up at the moon. “We can’t search much longer. It’s getting too late. We should bring the sheriff in on this.”

  Caleb suggested, “It’ll be another hour before they can get their people mobilized. Let’s go on a little ways.”

  Sin frowned. “But not far.”

  “All right.”

  They hobbled Black Angel so she wouldn’t wander off and rode on through the trees that seemed to close in around them, blocking out the pale glow of the moon. Soon enough, they had to switch on the big lantern flashlights to see the trail ahead.

  Caleb spotted the little riding hat, blown against a tree trunk, about a half mile from where they’d come upon Black Angel. The groom swung down from the spotted gelding he rode and grabbed it up. “It’s hers.” The three shared a look.

  Sin made the decision. “Let’s go on.”

  Caleb remounted. The wind shoved at them, blowing hard, strong now even in the shelter of the trees. At last they reached a rocky stretch. The trees thinned out to nothing—and Jennifer Randall came limping at them, falling, picking herself up, staggering forward, and sobbing as she tried to run.

  “Oh, thank God! Help. You have to help.…” She stumbled down on them, her hands out, her face smudged and her hair wild in the whipping wind. The horses grew nervous, they pranced and tried to shy away from her, dislodging rocks that tumbled down the mountain behind them.

  Sin passed his lantern to Sophie and swung out of the saddle. The Randall woman fell into his arms—and then immediately started struggling to get free. “Oh, God. Oh, we have to hurry.…”

  Sin tried to calm her. “Hold on. Slow down…”

  “No. Listen. I…had to start a fire. I was hoping someone would see and come rescue me. But then the wind…oh, we have to hurry! We have to hurry now!”

  They all understood then what the woman meant.

  “Douse the lanterns,” Sin commanded.

  Sophie and Caleb obeyed. The world went dark. They looked higher up the mountain. There, rising above the thick crown of trees, ribbons of smoke
spiraled in an eerie, curling dance toward the silvery moon.

  “Come on.” Sin put an arm around the Randall woman. “We’ve got to move.” He helped her over to the others, stopping beside Caleb’s horse.

  The woman’s handsome face turned ugly beneath its layer of grime. “No. I will not ride with that—”

  Sin spun her to face him. “We don’t have time for any of your games now.”

  The woman looked into those hard, dark eyes, bit her lip—and nodded.

  Caleb put a hand down and Sin hoisted her up in front of the groom. Then he went to his own horse, lifted the flap on the saddlebag and brought out his cell phone. The wind whistled hard around them as Sin punched up 911.

  They had some degree of luck. The wind didn’t turn. They found Black Angel where they’d left her and led her back with them.

  They were crossing the meadow where the wild roses grew when the first helicopter sailed by overhead, laden with fire retardant to drop on the blaze.

  “Most beautiful sight I ever saw,” Caleb declared, watching as the copter swung away toward the mountains behind them.

  “Let’s just pray they’re in time to contain the damn thing,” Sin added bleakly.

  Jennifer Randall whined, “Can we please get moving? I need a doctor. My ankle is killing me.”

  At the Mountain Star, the firefighters in their cross-country vehicles were already arriving. The head of the team took a few precious minutes to question the Randall woman, then suggested someone drive her to Sierra Nevada Memorial to have her ankle x-rayed. Myra volunteered for that job. Sophie cast the cook a grateful glance.

  As the owner of the property, Sin was allowed to head back out with the firefighters. He suggested they also take Caleb along, to show them the smoothest way overland.

  Sophie stepped up. “I’d like to go, too.”

  Sin focused those eyes on her. “Stay here. You have guests to worry about.”

  His imperious tone rankled. And she feared she might go crazy, sitting there, doing nothing, just waiting for news. But she knew he was right.

  In the cottage, the guests gravitated toward the kitchen, where Sophie kept Myra’s radio tuned to a local station, which provided periodic reports on the fire. They all clustered around the big table, sharing pot after pot of Myra’s coffee, telling old stories of other forest fires they’d heard about or seen, falling silent whenever the radio announcer came on with more news. Overhead, through the hours, they heard the helicopters rattling by.