Heaven Beside You

by Christa Maurice

  “I could have remembered the condom, too. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” She put her hands over her face.

  Jason petted her hair. Crap like this was why the band had exiled him here in the first place. Not that the other guys would have cried, but Bear punched him in Denver and Tyler poured a large Coke over his head in Oklahoma City on the last tour. He’d have rather had it the other way around because being punched by a drummer wasn’t preferable, but he’d have gladly endured both again instead of seeing Cassie cry. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the only thing he was good at. He’d made her cry twice in less than a week. Maybe more, because she had taken a couple of marathon baths. He leaned his cheek against her head. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I’m a bastard and I’m taking it out on everyone around me. Maybe I should go.”

  “Go?” She looked up, a feverish fear in her eyes. “Go where?”

  “Just away. The longer I stay with you, the more I hurt you.”

  “No,” she protested, gripping his shoulders. “Please, no. I mean, I don’t want you to go. You won’t be here that much longer. Please, Jason, stay with me a little while longer.”

  “Cassie, I don’t want to keep hurting you.” Jason tried to pull away from her, but her fingers dug into his shoulders.

  “Please, stay. You won’t hurt me. I promise.”

  “Cass.” As if he were prying a cat’s claws from his skin, he removed her hands. “How can you promise I won’t hurt you anymore?”

  She drew a deep breath like she meant to get herself together, but her hands didn’t relax. “Easy. I won’t let it bother me when you get moody and quiet. I won’t push you for anything.” As he moved away from the bed, she climbed to her knees. “And even if I am pregnant, I won’t ask you for anything. That first day you said you just wanted this. It’ll just be this.” She gestured at the bed, letting the sheet fall away from her. “You can leave here next week and never look back. I won’t contact you for anything and I won’t tell anyone what happened between us. I promise.”

  One eyebrow raised at her, he hid his turmoil behind a cool mask. Was this some grand master level of the con? “I think if you’re pregnant, people will figure out what’s going on up here.”

  * * * *

  Cass wanted to crumble into a heap. When he woke her passionately this morning she’d been so happy. She’d thought he had heard her and didn’t hold it against her. She’d even been outrageous enough to think maybe he shared the feeling. Obviously, she’d been wrong. How could the man who had touched her so lovingly stand at the end of her bed negotiating with her heart? “I can hide the pregnancy. I’ll give the baby away.”

  A flicker of something dangerous crossed Jason’s face then his mask slammed back into place. “If that’s what you want,” he said with a shrug, picked up his clothes and walked out of the room.

  When the bathroom door closed she slumped sideways, too stunned to breathe. She couldn’t ever give his baby away. What had possessed her to say such a thing? How would she have hidden a pregnancy anyway? She’d be due at the end of September when she still had campers. But she could keep the promise to not ask for anything. Let the whole town look at her with pity as she raised her dark-haired, dark-eyed child. Even if all she had left of him was his child, at least that she could keep forever.

  The bathroom door opened, and he entered the bedroom, clothed and smelling oh so good. “I’m going to build more snow sculptures,” he announced.

  Cass had succeeded in getting out of bed and dressing in some clean clothes. If she’d been alone this morning, she might not have bothered with clothes. Or getting up. “Do you want some breakfast?”

  “No. I’ll come in when I get hungry.” He picked up his coat and walked out of the bedroom.

  Cass opened her mouth to say something, but before anything came out, the door closed behind him. She didn’t understand. Last night he’d been happy. He’d enjoyed the dance and the jam session, even seemed amused by Kady and Cori’s antics. The dress had wowed him speechless. Then, this morning he’d gone from loving to angry to guilty and back to angry so fast, she hadn’t had time to register the change.

  Sharp, stabbing pains originated from everywhere in her head, ricocheted around her skull. Her heart felt like someone was juicing it like an orange. She summoned the energy to put one foot forward. Once that was accomplished, moving the second foot came easier and she was able to totter to her living room. Her dress still lay in a puddle on the floor. The velvet coat hung over the back of the couch. She picked them up and carried them to the bedroom, draping both over the corner chair. Right now, she didn’t have the energy to manipulate hangers. Instead she walked to the window and looked out.

  Jason was busy digging in the snow. He hadn’t left. When he got cold he would come in to warm up and eat something. She had to remember to take what he gave her and cherish it, because everything was a rental.

  And the contract was nearly up.

  Cass turned away from the window. She’d promised she wouldn’t ask him for anything or let his moods bother her. They would her, but she’d have to learn to hide it. Which meant not wandering around the house like a lost soul. It was only a few days more. Not a lifetime.

  She squared her shoulders. Her painting. It was something to do. Something very, very normal.

  Cass strode into the living room. Paint. She could paint while the world ended and not notice except to wonder why her landscape wasn’t sitting still.

  Her bare foot came down on something hard, snapping it. Cursing, she hopped away.

  The comb she’d used in her hair last night lay on the floor in two jagged pieces. She scooped up the pieces, stalked to the trash and tossed them in. Combs could be replaced at any drugstore in the country for less than a dollar. Just because that was the last of the combs that had secured her hair on her wedding day all those years ago, meant nothing. Should have thrown it away a long before now because it was damn bad luck. She slammed the lid on the trashcan.

  * * * *

  Jason surveyed his third Easter Island head. The first one had fallen over and split in half moments after he finished it. The second looked more like Olmec than Easter Island. This one’s nose wouldn’t stay on. He blamed the sculptor. His hands hadn’t stopped shaking since this morning.

  How could she consider giving his child away? How dare she?

  That they’d only been unprotected once didn’t matter and he didn’t plan to repeat it. Somehow, in his mind, they had a child.

  He wanted that.

  Or he thought he did.

  Didn’t he?

  He glanced back at the house as the nose plopped off again. Cass was what he longed for in a mate, except for the scheming. Imagining the rest of his life with her was easier than imagining the rest of his life without her. And she might be pregnant now.

  He thought he wanted her to be carrying his child.

  At the same time, the concept made him want to run screaming into the woods.

  He glared at the last head. What made him think he could be a husband and father when he couldn’t even raise a half decent snow sculpture? He stamped snow off his shoes, but the cold leaked up his legs. Was it possible to freeze to the ground? He’d have to stay then. “Sorry guys, can’t make the Grammys. Frozen to the ground.”

  She’d said she loved him, but that had been in the throes of passion. Women said stuff like that during sex. They were biologically programmed to, so she might not mean it.

  At some point he must have wandered into The Twilight Zone. Wasn’t there an episode where a train stopped in a perfect little town? What was the twist at the end? Potterville had an eerie perfection about it. The cute diner and the weekly church dances. Just the kind of place to settle down and raise a little family. A little family he might have started this morning.

  Almost five, his watch read. Yesterday she’d called him in at least once an hour to warm up, but other than when she called him in for lunch h
e’d been out here all day. She hadn’t looked peachy at lunch. Could be, she was inside struggling with the same questions, looking for the door to her personal Twilight Zone. Did she regret what happened this morning? She might regret telling him she would give their baby up. Or was she rubbing her hands together, thinking she’d caught him permanently like Bonnie had snared Brian? Was that a bad thing? Most of the time he was jealous of what Brian had.

  Cass appeared at the open garage door.

  “Jason?” she called. “Why don’t you come inside and warm up. Dinner’s about ready anyway.”

  “All right.” He turned away from the heads. They didn’t have any helpful advice tonight. In the morning he’d try them again.

  Cass made chicken sandwiches and some kind of bean salad for dinner. They ate in strained silence the way they had eaten lunch. Afterward, he helped clear the table. His shoes were drying on the hearth. Next time he needed to bring more than one pair. In fact, he needed to invest in some real boots, not for fashion, but the kind built for winter hiking.

  Wait. Next time?

  Jason put the last plate in the sink and walked out to the living room. The painting she’d been working on looked finished and he admired it while she wiped off the table. She could have put it in the window and told people the scene was real and they would have believed her. A car drove down Main Street, like any day of the week. That was what he wanted to step into.

  “Where’s that pasture?”

  “Pasture?”

  “The one you were talking about buying. You said I could go with you and take a look at it.”

  Cass knotted her fingers. “Did you really want to go see it? It’s getting dark soon.”

  He put his arms around her. She was beautiful, clever, sweet, thoughtful, kind. And had said she loved him. “How long will it take to get there?”

  “Half an hour or so, depending on the road.” She bit her lip. “It’s only a little way on the other side of the mountain, but when you drive, it takes longer. Do you want to go?” She looked up at him, and he heard echoes of questions she wasn’t asking.

  “Sure. Why not?” He kissed her forehead and didn’t move away immediately. This felt good. He could step off The Twilight Zone train at this stop and it wouldn’t be so bad. “Can we go now?”

  Chapter 15

  She tried to relax. He might be acting a little more like himself, but she wasn’t sure she could judge. She felt deranged from a day of painting and peering out the window wondering what was going on in his mind and worrying he was going to walk through the door and announce he had to go. Now. Immediately. Yesterday, if possible.

  But he wanted to go to the pasture instead. “Okay, if you really want to. It’ll be dark, but I think there’s a full moon tonight.” Her eyes lingered on his for a few minutes before she turned away. “Let me get my coat.”

  Cass started the truck and let it warm up for the long drive down the mountain and up the holler to Bill Wernick’s. As she reached the last turn to his place, she stopped.

  “Fence posts,” she told Jason, and pointed.

  Squinting through the glare of the headlights, he said, “Yeah, what about them?”

  “They’re new and too tall. He’s putting up a sign for the riding stable.”

  “Why?”

  Cass smirked at him. “Because he thinks it’s going to be an entrance for my campground. That’s why he offered right of way so fast.”

  “Well, if this is going to be an entrance, you’re going to have to do something about the road.”

  Cass followed Jason’s gaze up the single lane that wound between the trees and cursed under her breath. She had forgotten about the goat track Bill called a road leading to the pasture. It made the road so far look like an interstate. The wind normally blew harder on this side of the mountain, so she wasn’t worried about deep snow, but she wasn’t sure how deep some of the ruts might be. Getting stuck would be awkward, but she had her phone and she could come up with some reason for Jason being with her. She might even be able to tell the truth.

  “Hold on,” she said.

  Starting up the lane, she watched for the first switchback, which at this time of year would only be visible by the presence of trees seeming to grow in the middle of the road. Jason ignored her advice and sat with one arm across the back of the seat, his long legs crossed at the ankles. By the third switchback, he’d shifted to a more cautious position, gripping the door with one hand, feet braced against the floor. She straightened the wheel as they turned out of the woods, and the truck slid sideways. The rear wheel dropped into a rut, halting the truck. Jason gasped as they jerked to a stop, but she couldn’t be sure if it was because of the slide or the view.

  The pasture opened in an oblong bowl shape between the sheltering arms of two ridges. It spanned the length of a football field at its widest and half again as long. In the center the wind had uncovered a long shallow pond reflecting the black sky and the stars overhead. By his expression, he’d been gasping at the view. His eyes were fixed on the waterfall.

  The high ridge on the west side of the valley rose at a steep angle. The frozen waterfall spilled down the wall in lace ruffles of ice. A rocky pool caught the fall before allowing it to trail across the valley floor to the pond and then through a gap in the ridge.

  “My God,” Jason breathed. He fumbled with his door, popped it open and tumbled out of the truck. “It’s beautiful.”

  Cass stepped out, enjoying his open-mouthed wonder. It was a nice valley. Sheltered and cool. Utterly peaceful. The full moon reflected off the snow, gleaming across the black ice in the center. “I’ll have to take out the fence.” She motioned toward the low fence Bill had installed to keep his sheep under control. “And I think I’ll cut a road through from my end instead of using his right of way. Too many of my campers have trouble with my entrance. No trailers back here though. Even if they got them in, they’d be impossible to get out again.”

  “Would you build cabins here?” Jason tore his wide-eyed gaze from the scene before him and glanced at her.

  “Sure. I could fit fifteen cabins here. The cabins up front are too close together. I’d like to spread these out a little more. And there’s another little plateau below the eastern ridge where I could offer tent camping.”

  He sat on the front bumper with his hands between his knees, looking around the valley. “I’d love to build a house here.”

  Cass blinked. “A house?”

  He turned to her with sparkling eyes. “Yeah. A nice two-story place right over there, facing the pool, but angled toward the waterfall. And the master bedroom, too. That would be right upstairs over the living room. You’d have to be able to see the waterfall from the master bedroom. The driveway would angle around that way so it wouldn’t interrupt the view. I’d put your painting studio on the second story over the garage so you could still see into the valley, and my music room would be across the hall.”

  Cass’s chest tightened. “So you’re building this house for us?” she asked as evenly as she could manage.

  Jason stood up and gathered her into his arms. “Do you want me to build a house for you?”

  She tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. He was playing with her. There was no way he would ever stay in Potterville, West Virginia. This was not the kind of place people like him lived. He was building castles in the air. Maybe he was the kind of person who talked about these kinds of things without ever doing them. “Yes. I do. Maybe you could start construction tomorrow. There’s plenty of snow to work with.”

  Laughing, he released her. He’d turned away, so he didn’t see her stumble and catch herself on the hood of the truck. “I can see it now. Just like your bungalow, but bigger. A big living room with a fieldstone fireplace and floor to ceiling windows and a big warm kitchen with hardwood floors the color of honey.”

  And huge heating bills. Jason didn’t think about things like heating bills. People who built
castles in the air never worried about practicalities. She closed her eyes, holding in tears. She didn’t need a house, she needed him. “So you approve then?”

  “Approve? This is fantastic. I can’t believe you’d waste it on cabins.” He turned to her, grinning. “I’d keep it for myself.”

  A chill that had nothing to do with the weather had settled on her, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s getting cold. Let’s head back.” She climbed in the truck without waiting for him. As she turned the truck around to leave, he was plastered to the window, soaking in the view. He’d be overjoyed in the summer when honeysuckle and mountain thyme hung on the air like a balm and wild flowers grew everywhere. It would be a popular campsite, she thought, jerking the wheel too hard and making the rear end slide. She hit the gas to pull the vehicle out of the slide, but the wheels spun. Cursing, she slammed the truck into reverse and stomped on the gas. Nothing but noise.

  “We’re stuck?” Jason asked.

  Dropping it back in first, she stomped on the gas again. The tires whined in protest, but the truck didn’t move. She opened the door and looked back. In her haste to leave, she’d swung wider than she thought and sunk the truck into a trough up to its axle. She pulled the door closed and rubbed her face with her gloved hands. “We’re stuck.”

  “Should I get out and push?” Jason offered.

  “Only if you’re about to turn into the Hulk.” Cass patted her pockets, searching for the phone. Donny would come up and get her. She’d tell him Jason had been curious about the property because he’d heard them talking about it over lunch and he’d been a little cabin-fevered after the storm.

  She patted her pockets again. If she could find her phone.

  Damn. Before they’d left, she’d seen the phone charging on the sideboard and reminded herself to grab it, but apparently hadn’t done so. She’d been too dazed by the idea that Jason wanted to do something with her. He’d been outside all day, and she’d had plenty of time to worry that he’d changed his mind. Not that her distraction was an excuse for forgetting. “You didn’t happen to bring a cellphone with you, did you?”