Carla Neggers - Night’s Landing

Nicholas Janssen had intercepted her, courted her, stalked her. He had his own agenda, his own plan for obtaining a pardon-for wooing the girl he’d known in college.

Her mother had been horrified, shaken, when she learned that the army captain who’d told her Nicholas was facing prosecution in the United States for tax evasion had turned up murdered. That the man fishing on the dock that day in early April was Charlene Brooker’s husband.

She simply hadn’t known, she said.

Wes Poe had arranged transportation to the Nashville airport. Sarah’s father had walked her to the car. “The worst part about being held captive was thinking not just that we’d never see you and Rob again, but that you’d have to live with the knowledge of what happened to us.” He’d paused, his eyes shining. “I didn’t want you to have that burden.”

Sarah thought she understood what it was to want to spare someone else a burden, to want to ease a burden from someone else’s shoulders-and that it couldn’t always be done, not just because it was impossible, but because that experience was a part of who that person had become.

Which she didn’t have to explain to her father. He knew.

She’d spent the night at an airport hotel, rented a car early that morning and arrived at Gus & Smitty’s in time to spend a fortune.

She experienced a wobble of vertigo as she looked off one side of her boulder, down into the valley, much greener than it was up high. The wind whistled in the cracks and crevices of her granite surroundings.

She hoped Nate would get on with tracking her down.

But his uncle had outfitted her for the conditions, and she could scoot down the trail, back amongst tall trees, if the wind picked up and she really started to feel the cold.

She took another bite of her power bar and washed it down with water, but she’d noticed a pleasant-looking diner when she was in the village of Cold Ridge. She’d rather get off the ridge and eat there.

When she climbed down off her boulder and turned to resume her ascent, Nate was there above her, sitting on a ledge as if she’d conjured him out of the thin mountain air.

He leaned back against another boulder and didn’t say a word as she made her way up to him. He had on scuffed boots, hiking pants, a black fleece-no hat, no gloves. And no gun, she thought. The horrors of the sniper attack and Conroy’s manipulations were slowly receding.

“How did you get ahead of me?” she asked. “Did you drop out of a helicopter?”

“With an ex-pilot and a pararescueman in the family, I suppose I could have. But you’d have heard a helicopter.”

“I don’t know. With this wind, I might not have.”

But he’d found a spot sheltered from the wind, still and quiet as she sat next to him.

“There’s more than one way up here,” he said.

“Then you weren’t already here. You saw your uncle-”

“He said he did what he could to make sure you wouldn’t be fined for recklessness when he had to come pluck you off the ridge. I told him not to underestimate you.” He moved in closer, and she had the feeling if she scooted away from him even an inch, she’d fall off into oblivion. “It’s easier to track a woman who wants to be found than a fugitive who doesn’t.”

“Well, I did narrow your options.”

He smiled and touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “I’ve missed you.”

“Good, because I wasn’t sure if I was crazy-” She caught his wrist in her hand and slipped her fingers into his. “Sometimes it’s hard to know what of that week was real and what wasn’t.”

He kissed her fingers. “I was real.”

“My family-it’s wonderful to have Rob home. He’s doing well. And my parents are fine. They’re resilient, already planning their return trip to Amsterdam so that Dad can finish his project there.”

“You Dunnemores and your projects.”

She laughed. “Yes, it’s true.”

“And the president?”

“He was in Night’s Landing yesterday.”

“I saw on the news.”

“He’s holding a press conference today in Washington. He’s setting the record straight on the snake story and letting reporters exhaust every possible question they have about our relationship. Honestly, when the snake thing happened, I just wanted him to be okay. None of the rest mattered. I don’t think it really did to him, either. People will think it did, but he had so much else on his mind besides who’d saved who from a water moccasin.”

Nate withdrew his hand from hers and skimmed his fingertips along her jaw, down the right side of her neck. “How’s your snakebite?”

His touch had her feeling warm again. “All healed.”

“Wes Poe’s surrogate daughter. I’ll probably be guillotined for making love to you, almost getting you killed.”

“You knew we were close when you threatened to arrest me that day in New York.”

“That’s different.” He threaded his fingers into her hair and kissed her softly. “We can’t make love up here. We’d kill ourselves on the rocks.”

She smiled. “Always so impatient.”

“Something we have in common when it comes to lovemaking, as I recall.”

She stayed put, gazing out at the surrounding mountains. “I have something I want to tell you. Wes mentioned your promotion.”

“He is the boss.”

“He said you’re taking it. I’m thrilled for you.”

“Thank you.”

“There’s this historic house in northern Virginia. Arlington, actually. It’s not far from the Marshals Service headquarters.”

He said nothing, just watched her with those incisive eyes, even bluer now, she thought, against the northern New England sky.

“It’s like the Poe house,” she went on, “a combination of private, state and federal interests. Pristine. Lots of history.”

“They need an historical archaeologist?”

She nodded. “It’s an exciting project. People say the house is haunted.”

“Not by a president, I hope.”

“Abraham Lincoln and Robert E. Lee, as it happens.”

“Ah. Of course.”

“I thought if I took on this project, then I’d be in the area and we could go on dates.”

“We could have candlelight dinners,” he said.

“That’s right. And go to movies and concerts.”

“How long do we have to date?”

Her heart jumped. “I do see why people say you’re impatient.”

“I’m patient. I’m being patient now. I’m not throwing you over my shoulder and marching down to the nearest shelter, am I?”

It was a delicious thought, but she forced herself to stick to what she’d come to Cold Ridge to say. “I have other offers. I don’t want to crowd you in your new job. But I want to find a way for us to be together that’s good for both of us.”

“It’s what I want.” He got to his feet, no indication that he was concerned he could take one wrong step and end up in a heap on the rocks. He offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet, kissing her softly. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I left you.”

“Everyone was convinced I’d fall for a charming intellectual.”

“I’m charming.”

She laughed. “That’s the other thing people say about you. ‘That Nate Winter, he’s a charmer.’-”

“Do I detect a note of sarcasm?”

“Damn it, Nate, you know what I’m saying.”

“You’re saying that you thought you’d fall for some weak-kneed type. No one else did. They all thought you’d fall for-”

“A hard-driving, hard-ass marshal?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “That about covers it. Can we make love after our dates? Or am I to deliver you to your door with a chaste kiss?”

“I like a little mystery and drama. Surprise me.”