Conard County Witness Page 5

  “Itching and pain?” She suspected he didn’t mean what was left of his leg.

  “You might not believe it, but a metal leg can itch like the devil or hurt like hell. It’s called phantom pain, but it’s real to me.” He tilted his head. “The itching drives me crazier.”

  “Can they do anything to help? Will it get better?”

  “They can’t help, although sometimes I take aspirin for the placebo effect on the pain. The itching? Forget it. I could scratch a hole in my pants and never get to it. They offered opioids, but I don’t want to be doped up, not in my job. Nerve stimulation didn’t help.”

  “I’m sorry, Jess,” she said, her chest squeezing with sympathy for him. “That’s awful.”

  He shook his head again. “There are far worse things and I know it. Mostly I get around just fine. I’m lucky to be mobile, lucky to be able to work. But yeah, occasionally I just leave it in the corner. Sometimes I feel freer and can move faster without it.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Probably my mood on a given day, more than anything.”

  She looked down at her hands, twisted her fingers together and murmured, “I bet that’s only half of it.”

  “Meaning?”

  She shrugged and summoned a smile. “You’ve been unfailingly Pollyanna about this since you started taking my phone calls again. You still are. It could be worse, of course. Most things could. But promise me something?”

  “If I can.”

  “If there’s anything I can do, let me know. After all, you’re taking care of me, sheltering me from my fears. Seems only fair that if I can help you in some way, you tell me.”

  “I guess that’s fair.”

  When she looked up, he was smiling again. “What?” she asked.

  “I was just thinking that we’re both very independent people. Life seems to have made us that way, for different reasons. Anyway...” Whatever he had been about to say was cut off when she heard the window behind the curtain rattle loudly.

  “Here we go,” he said. “Full force Arctic gale. Prepare to hunker down. I’m going to make coffee. Want another latte?”

  “That sounds wonderful, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not.”

  This time she noticed that he used his arms and then only one leg to lever himself out of the chair. As he crossed the room, she could see that swinging his artificial leg forward wasn’t exactly the same as the way he moved with his natural leg. He might be trying to walk as if he had two real legs and doing a good job of it, but apparently there was no real substitute for nature.

  The thought of the phantom pain and itching bothered her, too. She’d had an occasional itch she couldn’t locate and knew how that had maddened her. What if you knew you’d never find it or never know how long it would go on? And how bad was the pain? He’d mentioned it, so it had to be more than an occasional twinge.

  She resisted the urge to go help make the lattes. Maybe she was wrong, but she sensed in him a need to prove he was as capable as ever, despite the loss of his leg. A mother hen was probably the last thing he wanted.

  The wind rattled the windows again, and then she heard it keen around the corner of the house. She was tempted to peek out, then decided against it. The heat from the woodstove had begun to fill the room and she was feeling supremely comfortable on the sofa. She had seen the effects of wind before, and a glance out the window would hardly let her know more about what subzero temperatures felt like. Whatever temperature she had tasted earlier had told her she was a Southern girl. Remembering how the cold had made her eyes tear up and the way it had whipped through her coat as if she wasn’t even wearing one was probably all the lesson she needed.

  Then she noticed a photo album on the table beneath the flat-screen TV. She wondered if she could look at it.

  It might be a mistake, since she suspected it would be full of pictures of Jess and Sara, and she didn’t want to open that can of worms unless he brought it up.

  They had both grieved Sara’s passing, although in different ways, she supposed. She’d lost her best friend since childhood, but he had lost his wife, his lover, his friend and the whole future they had planned together. If there were scales to weigh grief, his might well be heavier than hers. Not that it was something she wanted to compare as if it were a contest. She just didn’t want to cause him pain by bringing it up, unless he wanted to discuss it.

  It was easy to remember Sara, though. Easy to recall childhood days when the Florida summers had seemed full of endless freedom, and how they had occupied one another with games, or just by walking and talking together about anything and everything. When each of them had started dating in high school, they’d sometimes gone their separate ways, only to come back together again when the relationships broke up. Then had come college, where they’d headed in different directions. That’s where Sara had met Jess. He was at her university’s medical center taking trauma training for the Navy. Instant, total love.

  Lacy figured it had taken her six months to stop being jealous and start being happy for Sara. Childish maybe, but real. Then the wedding, and longer separations were filled in with visits. When Jess had been at home, Lacy had come to like him bunches and stopped seeing him as competition. Somehow the three of them had knitted a friendship.

  And then, in one horrible instant, Sara was gone. She’d been dead for several hours before she was found. Her aorta had ruptured silently during the early morning hours, killing her before her carpool had arrived to pick her up for work and had become concerned enough to call the police.

  Just like that, as if a hand had reached out and squeezed the life from her.

  All that laughter and life, lost. Lacy closed her eyes tightly, letting the grief wash over her again, then popped them open as she heard Jess’s approach. His gait had evened out a bit, so she guessed he was working on it.

  She smiled as he entered the room with two tall thermal mugs. “Thank you,” she said as she took hers.

  “My pleasure. I think I need to turn down that stove some.” He set his cup on the table beside the rocker and went to fiddle with what she assumed must be a damper.

  “I think it’s cool that I can see the fire,” she said. “Very cool.”

  “Best of both worlds,” he answered. “A fireplace that doesn’t waste heat.”

  He returned to the rocker. “Leave your bedroom door open, and that heat will climb the stairs and keep you warm all night. That’s why I haven’t done anything to close the foyer off.”

  “Do you burn it all the time?”

  “When it gets really cold, yes.”

  She looked over her mug. “Today seems to be the day. Did you know this weather was coming?”

  “Honestly, no. It seemed too early in the year to be worrying about extremes, and I think I told you I don’t follow the weather that closely.”

  “But winter’s coming and it must be more important up here than it is for me.”

  He laughed. “I usually get informed by my patients if something’s coming up, but I took the last two days off.”

  She nodded, sipping the latte and settling more comfortably on the couch. With her boots off, she didn’t hesitate to curl her legs under her. “When do you go back to work?”

  “I’m on vacation. For which my boss is extremely grateful.”

  Surprised, she nearly gaped at him. “Why would he be grateful?”

  “Because I have four weeks of vacation built up. He’s of the opinion that I’m setting a bad example, and at some point some bean counter is going to be knocking on his door asking why I never use any of my time.”

  “Do you like your job that much?”

  “I love it. But there’s no place I want to go, so I reserve vacation for when I want to spend some extra time on projects around the house. I’ll probably work some more on the kitchen
in the next few weeks.”

  She looked around the room again, realization slamming her. He was building a memorial to Sara. The house in the country she’d wanted, and probably all the remodeling to make it a place she would have liked.

  All of a sudden feeling like an interloper, Lacy looked down, staring at her mug as if it fascinated her. She was in Sara’s house with Sara’s husband. All that was missing was Sara.

  God. She had the worst urge to get up and leave. Why had he asked her here? Friendship, yes, but something more? She couldn’t imagine what. All she knew was that she suddenly felt as if she were in a mausoleum.

  She tried to shake the feeling. Five years had passed. Surely Jess wasn’t still devoting himself to fulfilling Sara’s dreams. He didn’t seem like that kind of a man, but then how well did she know him? Even if he were, what difference did it make? It was up to him how he spent his life.

  For some reason, she shivered a bit and once again had that creeping sensation that some threat stalked her. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said aloud.

  Jess looked startled. “What?”

  “Here I am, sitting perfectly safe in the middle of nowhere in your house with you right here, and I just had that feeling again.”

  “That you’re somehow threatened?”

  “Yes.” Annoyed with herself, she uncurled her legs, put her mug down and started pacing the warm room. “This is nuts! Nothing with any brains is going to be moving in the cold out there, and even so, how would anyone know where I am? It’s not as if I left notes for my friends or a trail of some kind. I mentioned a few times that I was thinking of going to Portland to visit some old college friends, but that’s it. I think I told only two people. Not even the FBI cared where I was going. Free as a bird. Maybe I need some therapy.”

  “At the very least, no one would have known you were getting off that bus out here.”

  “Exactly. But every so often it washes over me, this icy foreboding, as if something bad is about to happen. It’s crazy.”

  He put his own cup aside and levered himself out of the chair. He crossed to her and touched her shoulder. The calm that touch induced surprised her, but then she felt a trickle of desire. Oh, heck, not that, too. Wrong guy, wrong time, wrong place. What was the matter with her?

  “I don’t think you’re crazy,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come here if I thought all you needed was a therapist. Maybe it’s conditioning, like you said. That’s hard to break. But maybe something you’re not even aware of put you on high alert. Speaking as someone who has been in combat, I never dismiss those feelings. So run with it. Pay attention to it. Maybe it’s not real, but what if it is?”

  After a moment, she nodded. His touch comforted her with surprising ease, but she still couldn’t quite escape the feeling.

  He astonished her by unexpectedly drawing her into the circle of his arms, wrapping her in strength as he pressed her against his hard chest. “The thing is, you’re not alone, Lacy. I may be crippled, but I can still protect you if you need it. Only time will tell if your feelings bear out.”

  She rested her cheek against his sweatshirt, soaking up his heat, his masculinity, and suddenly feeling very feminine and very safe. “Jess?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Please don’t call yourself a cripple. I’ve met people far more crippled than you, and their bodies were normal.” She felt him stiffen and feared she might have offended him. Then he surprised her with a laugh.

  “You’re right. Okay, no more of that.” He let go of her, stepping back one pace, looking down into her face. “You going to be all right?”

  She nodded, even though she regretted losing his embrace. Never before had a man’s hug made her feel quite like that, all quivering expectation, and so meltingly safe. She wanted it back, and had absolutely no right to it. And not just because he was Sara’s husband, but because at some point she’d need to rebuild a normal life, fears notwithstanding. To do that, she’d need to leave this small town. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them. Jess had lost enough already.

  God, she had never imagined how awkward this might become, or how quickly. But how could she have? Never before had she felt the least sexual response to Jess, and now, for the very first time, she seemed to be swamped by it. Had she changed that much? Had he? She’d always been aware that he was an attractive man, but these feelings for him had never plagued her before. Where were they coming from?

  “Want to check the weather again?”

  She took her courage in her hands, considering that the last tendrils of fear still clung to her, nibbling around the edges of her wakening desire. Anything was better than standing here wondering if she’d lost her entire mind, not just parts of it. Maybe a good dose of open space and frigid air would be a tonic to all her emotions. “Can we step outside? I want to see what it feels like.”

  Turning, he took two steps and pulled the curtain back a bit. “The wind seems to have quieted. Okay, get your parka and gloves. You can have a couple of minutes to feel like a snowman.”

  Despite the internal ice she couldn’t quite shake, and maybe because of the growing heat in her own center, she smiled and hurried into the hall, where she jammed her feet into her boots and pulled on the parka. She zipped it only to her neck, leaving the snorkel open, but pulled up the hood.

  Jess grinned at her eagerness. “I’ve never before seen anyone so eager to freeze.”

  “It’s a whole new experience for me. Of course I want to try it.”

  “Portland has a milder climate, too, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t remember any clippers.”

  Soon he was wearing his outer gear and gloves, ready to go. It was then that she hesitated.

  “Jess? I could step out alone. Your leg...”

  “It’s impermeable, despite what my mind insists. A few minutes won’t be a problem, but no longer than that. And if the wind kicks up, we come straight back in, got it?”

  She promised, and they stepped through the door. Despite the warmth of her clothing, her face instantly felt as if it were hardening. Jess reached out and with deft fingers sealed her snorkel, then his own.

  “No foolishness,” he said, his voice muffled.

  Even as bundled up as she was, it wasn’t long before she could feel that even thermal underwear wasn’t enough protection against this cold. The skin of her thighs began to grow numb, and she realized it would be foolish to ignore it.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “I had my taste.”

  He was just opening the front door for her when she saw it. “Jess?”

  He looked as she pointed one gloved hand to an envelope under a small rock. Gravel was scattered all over the porch, maybe from the wind, but an envelope? “Weird,” he said. “I do have a mailbox at the road. Maybe one of the neighbors left me something.”

  Bending, he scooped it up and hurried her inside. The envelope landed on a side table, forgotten as Lacy began to shiver.

  “Okay,” she said, fumbling as she pulled off her gloves and tried to manipulate the zipper, “that was too cold. It goes right to the bone in no time at all.”

  He brushed her hands aside and dealt with the zipper until she could shrug off her parka. “Isn’t it warm enough?”

  “The parka is. My legs weren’t. Wow.”

  He shook his head smiling. “Now you know. Let’s go look at the weather so you can later brag how cold it was. Then I’m getting another hot drink into you.”

  He headed for the kitchen while she waited for the local weather. Thirty below? She turned and followed Jess hurriedly. “It’s thirty below. Really. I should be a polar bear.”

  “Are you thawing yet? Go stand beside the stove.”

  “I’ll survive,” she answered. “That’s the first time I felt my skin go numb that fast, though.
Amazing.”

  “For this weather, you need more than long johns. When it’s like this, people who can should stay inside.”

  “Was that why the guys were hurrying at the diner?”

  “You don’t want to have your car break down on some isolated road during this. Cell phones can be sketchy out there, and while your car makes a good windbreak, you can’t run it for long at one time, so you wind up bundled in blankets, using candles to heat something to drink, and hoping like mad that someone will report you didn’t get home in time for help to come. I don’t recommend it. I’ve seen a few patients in the emergency room after incidents like that.”

  She nodded understanding. “But the whole winter isn’t like this?”

  “Not usually. Although, who can say anymore?”

  * * *

  Jess was amused by her reaction to the cold. She’d wanted to test it, and then was frank in her assessment. But she’d enjoyed it. It was nice to see that pinched look gone from her face as she settled again in the living room, this time with a mug of hot chocolate, and plenty of heat from the stove to warm her up.

  She chattered for a while about ice storms in Portland, explaining that while she had thought they were bad, they didn’t hold a candle to this. He nodded and listened, enjoying the animation of her face, the most he had seen yet. Her entire body got into the act as she described coming down one hill outside Portland and her car spinning complete circles again and again until she reached the bottom. “Thank goodness nobody else was on the road.”

  “What did you do when you reached bottom?”

  “Inched my way to the nearest motel and spent the night. Fortunately, there was one right up the street. But I’ve never forgotten that awful loss of control. Being out of control is terrifying.”

  “I know.” He answered pleasantly enough, but maybe something had come through in his tone.

  Her animation faded, and her brow creased faintly. “I guess you do,” she said quietly. “I can’t imagine.”

  He gentled his voice. “Don’t try, Lacy. Please don’t try.”