Run, River, Run

by C. F. Francis

  She closed her eyes, embarrassed by her unexpected confession and fear she’d see rejection on his face. As much as she wished it, he didn’t move. He stayed firmly planted in front of her—her hand still clasped in his.

  He nudged her head up again with the tip of his finger. She sucked it up, meeting his gaze head-on. There was no disdain in his expression. Warmth, bordering on heat, flared in his dark eyes.

  “It would seem we’re both new to this.”

  The statement caught her off guard. “New to what?”

  “These feelings. The insecurity of not knowing what the other is thinking. Maybe we could talk about it?”

  How many men would admit that? How many would offer discussion instead of something carnal? Feelings rushed through her mind and her heart. He was a good man. She didn’t deserve his understanding or compassion. One of their hearts would break. She’d been training for fourteen years to defend her heart. Instinctively, she would continue to protect it, but this man had managed to break through her outer barriers and touch it. How much more could she expose and survive? Right or wrong, though, she wanted him. His pull was too strong.

  “Maybe.” She hooked her arms around his neck. “But could we talk later?”

  No explaining was necessary. His lips met hers as his fingers slid to the buttons of her blouse. When her breasts were free and he cupped them in his hands, she demanded more. Tugging at the hem of his shirt, she struggled to pull it free. He took her hands in his, ending her battle to strip him.

  “I think we can find a better place to continue this.” Holding her hand, he led her to the bedroom. She began to shrug out of her blouse, when he stopped her with a light touch to her shoulder.

  “Give me a second then let me have the honor,” he said.

  He pulled several packets from his pocket and tossed them onto the nightstand. She grinned at the number of condoms before turning back to watch him shuck out of his jeans and his shirt. The simple act of removing his clothing was enough to get her juices flowing—literally.

  Poised on the edge of the bed, she stared at his erection, which was now pointed directly at her like a divining rod. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the soft, firm flesh. His head lolled back as she tentatively began to stroke it. Her tongue flicked out to taste him.

  “Not yet,” he warned her, stepping back. She hardly recognized the gruff, strained voice. “As much as I’d enjoy that, this will be over before we get started if you keep it up.”

  “That was my plan…To keep it up,” she grinned.

  He was chuckling as he slipped her blouse from her shoulders. Her jeans disappeared just as swiftly. She heard the material crumple as her clothing landed in the corner.

  “Now, let’s get serious,” he told her, laying her back against the mattress.

  The air surrounding them heated like a sizzling summer afternoon, forecasting an intense electrical storm. Instead of the flash and bang of the night before, Kevin surprised her with a touch that was measured and gentle. He feathered his fingertips over her skin. From her forehead to her toes, not an inch was left unattended. She was a canvas, lovingly being stroked by an artist. When his fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot, he lingered there for a while.

  When he found his way back to her breasts, she was squirming beneath him. Her breasts weren’t the only areas that were demanding attention. She urged him upward, tugging at his shoulders. She wanted his mouth on hers. She wanted him inside her.

  With one last pass over her tender nipple, he rested on his elbows, hovering above her. Peering down, he smiled—a smile of contentment and anticipation. River reeled him in for a kiss—one that was hot, hungry and urgent. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, inching them up, lifting her hips as she did.

  “Let’s slow the pace a bit,” he said, edging back. “We’ve got all night.”

  “What if I don’t want to wait all night?”

  “You won’t have to, but for this minute, let’s take this slow and easy. Enjoy.”

  She could do that. As much as she wished for the fireworks and ecstasy she’d experienced the prior evening, this tenderness was almost as exhilarating. The dusting of his fingertips. The teasing with his tongue. Every movement, every touch, raked shivers through her body.

  Then he stretched out beside her. She was on fire and he was…what? Taking a break?

  The glint in his eye should have told her otherwise. His hands began to stroke, pet and tease. How many damn hands did he have? Her hips rose and her thigh muscles tightened to the point of snapping as he returned his attention to the ache between her legs. The sensation was too much. She let those surgical fingers take her over the edge.

  Collapsing against the mattress, her breathing came in fits and starts. Kevin was once again propped on one elbow gazing at her as if she were a unique piece of art. A satisfactory grin graced his face as he brushed the damp hair away from her forehead.

  “What about you?”

  Kevin smiled. “I said, we have all night.”

  River slipped from the bed before the sun was up. Kevin heard the bathroom door close, the toilet flush, followed by the sound of running water. He was tempted to join her in the shower. Just the thought had him rising for the occasion. But the water shut off quickly, so he waited. When she didn’t return to the warmth of their bed he tossed back the covers. Pulling on his jeans, he stepped into the hall. While the bathroom door was open, the door to her studio was closed. He should have joined her in the shower.

  The aroma of coffee caught his attention. He poured a cup, noting the shells she’d cleaned and left to dry were no longer on the counter. It confirmed his assumption she was already at work.

  He tapped on the workroom door then let himself in. River glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “’Morning,” she said.

  “’Morning. You’re up and at it early.” Tiny shells were spread out over a black cloth on top of her workspace. The mask in front of her had a penciled designed etched on it.

  “I wanted to get a start on the mask before we left,” she explained. “If I get these set early enough, then it should be okay to take with me. I may have to finish it up there.”

  “You’re not planning on coming back?” Kevin put his coffee aside and laid his hands on her shoulders. She’d been relaxed and fluid in his arms. Now her neck was corded tight.

  Dropping her pencil, she picked up her cup of coffee. “I don’t know. To be honest with you, it’s one of the reasons I came in here instead of returning to bed. I needed to think.”

  “Why don’t we find something to go with this coffee and talk.”

  He was rewarded with a smile for the suggestion.

  “We did use up a lot of energy last night.”

  River gathered eggs, bread, and some sausage she’d rediscovered in the back of the freezer. She scrambled cheese into the eggs as he popped the pre-cooked sausage in the microwave.

  Settling in at the dining room table, they each scarfed up a few forkfuls before Kevin stop eating.

  “Do you want to come back here?” he asked, holding her gaze.

  “My plan was to rent this place to vacationers after I lived here for one year. HOA by-laws,” she added. “I should know better by now than to think things turn out the way you plan them.”

  “So, you were going to move back to North Carolina, all along?” The idea of her alone in the cabin saddened him. His home, when he was stateside, was also North Carolina, but he had friends at Fort Bragg in addition to his friends here. Based on their conversations, she didn’t have many, if any, friends at home.

  “That was the original plan. After a year, if they hadn’t caught the person behind the harassment, I figured he—or she— had probably moved on.”

  “But no one has been arrested, and now with Dan being killed at the same location…”

  It was River’s turn to drop her fork. “I know. The cabin is my home. It’s not just a place to hang my hat—it’s a part of me. But ho
w do I live there, constantly looking over my shoulder? And why was Dan killed there? Did it have something to do with me or my family? I don’t know if I can stay there with that on my conscience.”

  “From what you told me I don’t think Dan would want you to feel that way.” Kevin reached across the table and placed his hand over her small fist.

  “He wouldn’t,” she said, a small smile gracing her face. “Unlike my aunt, Dan understood my determination to stay put. He wasn’t easily intimidated. A little of his stubbornness rubbed off on me.”

  “I can tell,” Kevin grinned. “Your aunt wanted you to leave?”

  “She never wanted me to live there—that goes way back.” River’s head dropped back against her shoulders. “Oh, the battles we fought. She considers the cabin a place of evil. She’s never stepped foot on the property since the murders. Dan kept it up until I moved in.”

  “That must have made for a tense situation,” Kevin said, bringing her eyes back down to his.

  “I was fourteen when I moved in with her. A teenager, grieving, but with all the answers and a chip bigger than Mount Everest on my shoulder. I know I wouldn’t have had the patience she’d possessed during those first couple of years.”

  “She must care a great deal about you,” Kevin stated.

  “I know she does, but I’m not moving back in with her, which she may suggest. We’re both grown women with ideas and beliefs that clash. For the first time, though, I don’t know if I should live at the cabin. There’s been so many deaths.”

  “What made you decide to move there after college?” Kevin asked as he collected their dishes and set them in the sink. He returned to the table with the carafe of coffee.

  “It was always a special place with wonderful memories when my family was alive. I didn’t want anyone to steal those from me. Walking away would have given the Engleharts the power to do that. Besides, the cabin gave me solitude.” She smiled as he topped off her cup. “If you haven’t noticed, my social skills aren’t the best.”

  “You’d do fine if you gave yourself half a chance,” he countered. “I think it’s more of a preference than a trait.”

  “You could be right, but I haven’t had the need to develop that skill.”

  She sipped her coffee and stared out the window behind him.

  “Back to your return to North Carolina,” he said. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m definitely going back to the cabin. I don’t want to kick your friends out, but I need to see if I can do it. It’s been my home. It shouldn’t scare me.”

  Kevin stopped fighting the urge to hold her. He abandoned the cup he’d just filled and in a few short minutes, they were on the couch with her in his lap. He held her tight. She was scared—and grieving. Losing her family and her friend were bad enough, but now she was contemplating losing her remaining physical connection to them.

  “And the terrorizing? What if it returns once you’re there?” It scared the hell out of him.

  “You know? Until the knife attack, I was mildly upset by the events—but not terrified. I figured somebody would either catch the bastard or he’d get bored and leave if he didn’t get a rise out of me. I retreated to Sanibel not because of the attacks, but because Aunt Amy and Don were frightened for me. Staying there, was adding to their burden. I’ve caused them so much trouble.”

  She scooted off his lap but didn’t go far. She leaned into him, resting her head on his broad shoulder. “I’d considered selling the cabin, but just thinking about it is like selling a piece of my soul. It’s a place of horrific memories, but beautiful memories, too. I walk the same trails I walked with my family. I cook in the same kitchen where my mom fried trout that dad and Billy caught. Well, it was mostly my dad who caught the fish, but everyone praised my brother on his fishing skills. I want the fucking bastard that’s trying to steal that from me.”

  “So, returning to the cabin will serve two purposes? Test how much the death of your friend affects your being there and to see if the guilty party starts another round of harassment?”

  “I can deal with the second more easily than the first, but I won’t know if I can deal with either until I try. It may take me some time to figure those things out.

  “What about Sanibel? Do you like it here?”

  “I haven’t regretted the move, except for the incidents with the jewel. This place is so different from my mountain, but it is beautiful in a different way and…” she paused. “Medicinal, I guess would be a fitting word. I can’t think of another way to describe it. I feel at peace when I’m alone on the beach listening to the waves roll in to kiss the shore while delivering the beautiful little treasures they offer me.”

  “I’m glad you chose Sanibel,” Kevin said, hugging her closer. “Have you considered staying?”

  “Why do you want to know? You’re leaving shortly, aren’t you?”

  Kevin grinned. At the forefront of her mind was how he might figure into the picture if she stayed or moved.

  “I have, at the very least, one more deployment,” he told her. “I’m at a crossroads myself. I love the military. I’m good at what I do, but I’ve watched my friends grow and make new lives for themselves. It’s tempting. I came here to try it on, so to speak.”

  “Have you made up your mind?”

  “No,” he said, kissing her lightly. “A few other issues came up that redirected my attention.”

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

  “I’m not. I’ll figure it out, just as you will. Do what’s in your heart, River. If I, or anyone of us can help, reach out. You’ve got friends here, if you’ll accept them.”

  “Friends with benefits?” she smiled, touching his face.

  He kissed her, hard and deep. “Only if those benefits apply to me.”

  27

  After cleaning up the breakfast dishes, Kevin convinced her he was an expert on packing since he’d done it so many times, so he volunteered to tackle her clothing. Initially, she was hesitant to let him pack her things, but he’d seen more than her underwear last night. She did draw the line when it came to her personal hygiene products.

  Kevin had the easier job in River’s opinion. She had no idea whether she was returning. All her tools, supplies and designs would have to go. She was fortunate Gib had a friend willing to fly them to North Carolina, otherwise she’d have had to ship everything. For some reason the task of packing was getting her down. Had this place become home? Deja vu all over again. It was the same feeling that had enveloped her when she’d loaded her possessions into her Subaru the day she’d left her cabin. This was supposed to be a temporary stop on a road she’d expected to travel alone. Lonely, but safe from heartache.

  The drawers of her dresser opened and closed as Kevin moved about her room, gathering her things. It seemed natural to have him nearby. What was going on with her?

  Shaking off the odd sensation, she gathered her tools, glues, sketch pads and materials, then packed them carefully in boxes. She’d saved the boxes and packing materials, knowing this day would eventually come. But going home wasn’t the celebration she’d expected.

  This place had grown on her—or was it because of the company of late? Then there was the ominous meeting awaiting her. She’d be facing at least one of the family members who had killed her loved ones. She expected she’d be attending Dan’s memorial—seeing him off on his final journey home to be with his wife. Linda Thompson had died years before River had met Dan. He spoke of her often and it was obvious how much he’d missed her. That loss may be why she and Dan had related with each other so easily. They’d each had a hole that needed filling.

  The melancholy continued to settle over her as she took in the space surrounding her. This room had become a virtual cage since she’d moved in. She tried to fit in a morning run and an occasional meal out—she’d refused to be a hermit. Work kept her busy, thank God, but her work kept her within the four walls of this room. So much for winning the battle against darkness. />
  With her emotions sagging, she’d made it a point to avoid the photographs of her family scattered around the room. Normally, they would fill her with warmth. Today, she was afraid they would make her weep.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, tossing tubes of epoxy into a box. She was stronger than that. She’d let the recent crap she’d been going through get to her. Her parents would be disappointed, and it would make Billy anxious. She could picture his rounded face scrunched up in concern. Pulling back her shoulders, she raised her head, and focused on the picture which was the centerpiece of the room.

  While it wasn’t a photograph of her family, it embodied their essence—love, kindness, teamwork, and strength. God, she missed them.

  River didn’t think any artist could capture what she’d been trying to relate in her sketch, yet the wood sculptor had done an amazing job of doing just that. The femininity and strength of her mother. The enthusiasm and eagerness of her little brother as he reached up to help. The tender, yet strong, hands of her father as he supported, not just the basin, but his family.

  She could still feel Kevin’s hands as he’d gently tended to her wounds and, later, intimately traced the lines of her body. She’d seen the strength, when he rescued her from the snake, then protected her from the gunman.

  How would her dad feel about Kevin? She smiled, knowing he’d trust her judgment. “Your mom and I have tried to give you the tools to make the right decisions,” he’d told her on her fourteenth birthday. “I expect you to use them.” He never had the chance to see if she made use of those tools. She’d tried to make him proud. She’d started by standing up in court and facing the family that had taken hers.

  She had never expected to—never wanted to—see the Engleharts again, but she needed to know if they were behind this systematic terrorism. They had reveled in the killings. It had been written on their faces during the trial. Occasionally, one of them would glance her way, a depraved grin on their face. An attorney would quickly elbow them, forcing them to turn around.