Jodi Thomas - Sunrise Crossing

Her stormy-day blue eyes were full of compassion.

“It’s been seven years and I still feel the pressure to do everything right. Like I have to watch myself every minute. If I do one thing wrong I’ll somehow wake up back in prison with all the bad smells and the sound of men crying and cussing. If I say the wrong thing. If I don’t tell people the truth about where I’ve been, then I’m hiding. If I do, I’m afraid of how they’ll react.”

Lacing his fingers in her small hand, he added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you disappeared, Little Rabbit. If you do, I should tell you that tonight was just about the best of my life. Even if I never see you again, I don’t think I’ll ever forget working beside you. It was nice, real nice.”

He’d had this routine before with women he’d met. They acted like it didn’t matter that he’d served time, but if he called for a second date, they were always busy. He expected it. He hadn’t blamed them. He wouldn’t blame her. She’d probably just disappear as if she’d never been there and he’d have no idea how to even look for her.

She pulled her hand away and he let her go without protest. “Help me down, Yancy. It’s late.”

He nodded and jumped off the bar. Carefully, he circled her waist and lifted her down. She didn’t meet his eyes as she looked around the room.

“What are you building next?” she asked, changing the subject.

“The banister.” He answered in a dull voice, knowing this must be her way of saying goodbye. “I thought I’d make the rails out of the same oak that I used on the hearth, then have the top done in wrought iron to make it more modern.”

She moved into the shadows where the stairs climbed the north wall. He heard her feet take the first few steps. “I can see it. It’ll add warmth to the room and last forever.”

“I’m thinking my lifetime will be enough. I don’t have any relatives to pass this place along to.” He walked to her and glanced up into the darkness, where no lights warmed the second floor.

She came down one step so that they were at eye level. “I have to go,” she whispered—as if there were anyone to hear but him. “Start the rails. I’ll be back to help shape and stain them.”

Studying her, he wondered if she were lying. “Fine,” he managed, wishing he had the nerve to ask her just one question before she disappeared.

He waited for her to come down the last step.

She didn’t move. The house was pure, snowflake silent.

“I didn’t mind you touching me.” She moved one step closer. “Would you mind if I got a little closer to say good-night?”

Before he could answer, her lips touched his. When he didn’t move, she leaned against him and put her hands on each side of his face. “Kiss me back, Yancy,” she whispered against his mouth. “Please, kiss me back.”

Something deep inside Yancy broke. Maybe it was reason. Maybe it was the door to his own private prison.

He pulled her against him and kissed her full on, like he’d always wanted to kiss a girl.

After a few moments, he felt her fingers gently brushing against the sides of his face, as if she were calming him down. When he let her go, he realized he’d been holding her so tightly she probably couldn’t breathe.

He’d kissed her too hard. Too long for a first kiss.

His hands dropped to his sides, but she didn’t pull away. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she ran. She had to think he was some kind of wild animal. It would probably be no surprise to her that he’d had very few girlfriends.

But she stayed so near he could feel her breath as she whispered, “Easy now, Yancy. Let’s do it again. I’m not going away. You don’t have to hold on so tight. I’m right here in front of you, wanting very much to kiss you. Do you think we can try again?”

He moved his hands gently up her body and held her as tenderly as he knew how as she kissed him a second time.

This woman with all her secrets and closed doors kissed him with an openness unlike anyone had ever kissed him. She wasn’t just going through the motions, waiting for what happened next, but there was tenderness, caring, as if she’d held all her passion in check for so long that she had to explode.

This time he was the one who couldn’t breathe.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MADISON O’GRADY WAS one of the best pilots Fifth Weathers had ever seen. It took him a minute to get used to the cramped space and the vibration of the chopper, but the view was beautiful, both the land outside and the woman so close she was almost touching him.

They flew low across Kirkland land, following the canyon and riverbeds as if running with the wild horses. The landscape took his breath away, and when he glanced at her, Madison smiled as if she understood how he felt.

Finally, he calmed enough to explain how a cowhand had reported seeing a car far down in a gully where not even a truck could go. The canyon was too steep for the cowhand to get his horse close to the car, so he’d called in to the sheriff’s office.

“We might not have checked out an old car,” Fifth added, “but for the last week we’ve been getting info that a woman is missing. We don’t have details, but if she was passing through this area and was kidnapped, whoever took her might have wanted to make the vehicle disappear.”

Madison looked down at the treeless, rolling land. “That wouldn’t be easy to do in this country. An abandoned car would be easy to spot.”

“Right,” he said. “Short of digging a hole and burying it, the best way is to sink it in water. Only, if a flash rain comes, it’ll swell the gullies and drag the car along in a sudden flood. A few hours later, it could be miles from where it was dumped and above water or damming up a creek.”

Much as he hated to brag, Fifth did feel like an expert on the subject. “The one animal, besides man, that does the most to change the lay of the land is a beaver. One den, built on a stream, can end up changing water flow for miles. So, even if it’s simply an abandoned old car, someone has to deal with it.”

“So we’re looking for beavers?” She made a face.

“No.” He laughed. “We’re looking for a car that might have done the beaver’s job. Someone reported seeing our missing person driving a red Chev. If we find it and there is a body in it, that’s where the law comes in. Of course, there have been other apparent sightings of this missing lady. One report said she might have taken a bus from Oklahoma City. Another claimed to have seen a hitchhiker near Dallas who fit her description. Right now we have no idea which ones are true. All I know is she’s missing and someone is in a real hurry to find her.”

They flew for almost an hour, with Fifth marking off their route as they went. Now was a good time to note the flow of streams for future reference. The sheriff liked to walk the land, but Fifth preferred using a computer when he could. Madison was saving him several days of work. Some of the terrain could be reached only on horseback, and that would have taken a week.

No old car appeared. Maybe it went back underwater. Maybe the guy who spotted it was wrong on his location. But, thanks to his mapping, the flight hadn’t been a waste of time.

When they finally landed and she cut the engine, he leaned back and said, “Thanks. I can’t wait to get all this data into the computer. We might not have found the SUV, but I have a much better sense of the flow of the streams around these parts.”

She grinned. “You are welcome, Deputy Weathers.”

He collected his notes. She picked up her satchel. They walked back to the headquarters in matching strides.

“I’d like to offer to buy you lunch, but I’m afraid you’d think I meant it as a date.” Fifth fought the urge to step out of range as he asked.