A Lover's Secret (13 page)

“You have so many great lines, Jake. But you can be real,
you can be honest with me. I am your friend. I want to share your burden with
you. I want to know you, all of you. The real you.”

Tears shimmered in his eyes then. “Look at me, straight in
the face, Jess, and tell me you think I’m feeding you a line.” He leaned
forward. “You are all I’ve ever wanted. For years, I imagined that you were a
fantasy, that I had created something out of you and out of your memory that so
eclipsed anything a person could truly be. And then I met you, and I can’t get
enough of you. I need you….like a drug. I need your arms around me. I try to hold
myself back but I can’t.”

She looked at the table again. Why did she get the feeling
there was more he wasn’t telling her?

“So about that two hundred and seventy thousand, I’ll have
Margot wire it to your bank account. You can do whatever you please with it
from there.” He took another bite of pancake, and the syrup trailed down, from
his fork to the plate. “So as of right now, Jess, you are free. And…” He
pointed his fork toward her. “You know all of my secrets.”

Jess nodded, reached her hand toward his and realized that
she doubted this very much.

***

“So how about that skydiving, huh?” Jake asked as they left
the restaurant.

“No way.”

“C’mon.”

“Nope. There are just some things I have no desire to do.”

“Well, we have to do
something.
I promised you this
grand adventure. Something so earth shattering it would change the way you see
yourself. You’ve just shot down my best idea. And we have to leave tomorrow.”

“About that,” Jess said, “what’s the rush?”

“I just… I need to meet with some people.”

“You need to get back for Elizabeth. She told me I had to
get you back.”

“Did she?”

“Yep.”

“What else did she tell you?”

“Let’s see… First she asked me if you had ‘told me
anything.’”

“Well, now I have. I’ve told you my secrets.”

She surveyed his face, his eyes. Then she continued. “And,
let’s see… what else? Oh, yeah, she told me that you not supposed to drink. I’m
not real sure how that ties in to the story you just told me. So, see, I’m not
sure you’ve spilled
all
of your secrets.”

Jake rubbed at the back of his neck and squinted toward her.
“How about if I’m your international man of mystery?”

“I find that I don’t really need one of those.”

“Well, for one…” Jake sighed. “I need to get back to L.A. to
do some business things. To make sure your wire transfer goes through, so you
can pay off your student loans.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re using the
prospect of the loan payment as a way to change the subject.”

She tried not to change her expression, but she couldn’t
stop thinking about it. Was he really going to pay off her loans? A warmth
flooded her face. What if he did? What if she were free now, to start over? To
do whatever she wanted…

But she was sure there was more to Jake’s story than he was
telling her. Was the story he had just fed her simply designed to throw her off
the scent of something else? Like whatever he was up to with Elizabeth?

“I know!” Jake said with a start. “How about horseback
riding?”

“You know, I’ve never done that either.” Jess said thoughtfully.

“You have never been on the back of a horse?” He laughed and
grabbed for her hand. “And you call yourself an American?”

“I know. Pathetic.”

“It’s either that or skydiving. You have to try at least one
new thing today. That’s Lassiter’s Law.”

“Horseback riding it is.”

He winked at her and pulled her close to him. He smelled
warm—peppery and piney. Her chest opened and she breathed his scent. She could
worry about Jake’s secrets another day. For now, she would open up, enjoy
herself, and allow the notion that she might have a benefactor. A super sexy
one.

“There’s a stable just outside the gates, where we can take
the horses out by the hour,” Jake said, pointing. “But the guy who owns the
place is a little grouchy, so just be cool.”

He took her by the hand then and they raced forward
together, down the gravel path where they had entered only the day before.
Jess’s hair beat against the top of her head as they ran, and she recalled the
animalistic way Jake had chased her along the path the evening before. Then the
way he had caught her and kissed her. Her breath snagged in her throat, and
they slowed to a walk.

Just beyond the gate, a barn stood, weathered and sun
beaten. Jess could hear impatient rustles and whinnies just inside.

They entered the barn, and it took a few moments for Jess’s
eyes to adjust to the darkness. Before long, a man came into focus. He stood
with his arms folded. His face was thick-skinned and tobacco brown, and his
mouth was lined with deep wrinkles. He had a toothpick thrust between his teeth
and he shifted it from one side of his mouth to the other as Jake began to
speak. “We’d like to take a couple of your finest horses for the afternoon.”

The man flicked the toothpick once again. “Can’t do it
today. Storm’s coming.”

“We’re seasoned riders,” Jake countered. “We’ll be back
before the storm.”

Jess watched, her eyes volleying between the two men, noting
how easy lying came to one of them.

Jake took a fold of hundred dollar bills from his pocket
then. It filled his entire palm. The man looked at the cash, then back to Jake.

“Storm’s coming,” the man said again.

“No worries.” Jake flashed a smile. “Like I said, we’ll only
be gone a couple of hours.”

Jake peeled off the top few bills, watching the man with his
eyebrows raised. He peeled off another bill, slowly.

“These mares will do,” the man said as Jake shoved the bills
into his open hand. The man nudged toward a corner and Jess squinted to see.
Then the man looked at Jess and tilted his head. Her stomach dropped. Could he
tell she was no expert rider? Of course he could, she thought. She was a
terrible liar. She hated lying.

“But you have to beware,” the man said, his tone sharp.
“Spring runoff is high. Very high. The arroyos can fill up and the rivers can run
over their banks.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

“Sure,” Jake said, bobbing his head.

“Come back well before the storm. And get boots.” The man
gestured toward a shelf of battered footwear along the wall. Jess busied
herself with trying on a pair.

Within moments, they were out in the bright sunshine again.
“Do you really think it’s going to rain?” she asked. “There’s not a cloud in
the sky.”

Jake shrugged. “Nah. I told you. He’s a grouch.” He stood,
poised to help her into the saddle, but she mounted the horse the way she had
seen in countless John Wayne movies, which she had watched, over the years,
with Grandma.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“You’re a natural then.” Jake mounted his own horse and
struck with his heels. The horse whinnied and burst ahead.

“Loping is more my speed, actually,” she called after him,
and Jake slowed then, until they were riding side by side. Every now and then,
Jess’s horse turned its head back toward the barn, as though silently timing
them. Two hours.

From the saddle, she could see everything. The chalky
cliffs. The depressions in the soil, which, Jake explained, marked the sites of
long-forgotten pueblos. Here and there, pottery shards, still vibrant with dark
striped patterns. “They say some of these pieces are more than eight hundred
years old,” Jake explained.

Jess listened to his voice and allowed her body to rise and
fall with the cadence of her horse. A cool wind swept past her and she imagined
it to be the voices and laughter of these ancient people, still echoing through
the valley.

Another gust took her breath away and she surveyed the sky
once again. Still clear but for a gathering of clouds deep on the horizon. A
hawk circled overhead and Jake pointed upward, not saying a word.

“
Where are we going exactly?” Jess asked, finally.
“How much time do we have left?”

“Oh, don’t worry too much about the two hour thing. Every
time I’ve taken his horses out, that guy has been grumpy. And,” he laughed,
“each time, he warns me about the weather.”

Had he taken another woman? She imagined him, then, leading
a beautiful figure—Elizabeth, maybe, or this Margot person—the same way he was
leading her. Off into the distance, around the bleached cliffsides. She
wondered if, then, as now, the red earth had turned to beaten clay under their
horse’s feet.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Jake said to her then, turning
slightly in his saddle. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Good. I just… the insides of my legs are kind of
sore.”

“You need to relax your body. Really. Stop clenching your
thighs together.” He laughed and turned to her. Then he said, “I just got an
image of your thighs, clenched around my chest, your feet around my back, as I
enter you.”

She took in a sharp breath. Wow.

“I’ll bet your thighs are so strong,” he continued, “The way
you run…”

Another gust of wind buffeted her and she noticed the storm
clouds were beginning to move closer. She shifted in her saddle.

“You know, Jake, I don’t know if I’m dressed for a storm.
Maybe we should turn back now. Go back to the room?”

He squinted toward her. “Just a little farther and we will.
There’s a place just up here I want to show you.”

The horses mounted a plateau. The clay was softer here and
Jake’s horse lost his footing once, then twice.

“It’s pretty steep,” she said.

“Stop worrying, Jess. Really. I’ve done this before, plenty
of times.”

The wind roared in her ears, and she felt a splash of rain
on her back. Then a deep rumble of thunder.

“I don’t think we should climb any mesas, Jake.” She tried
to keep the edge out of her voice. She tried not to hear Monica’s voice in her
head, chiding her for being afraid of everything. “Let’s wait out the storm
down here, and then we can continue once the storm passes.”

Still Jake continued on, as though he hadn’t heard her. They
crested another hill. “It’s just up here,” he called. “I can see it. We just
need to cross the river.”

That’s when the sky opened up and rain lashed the earth. Icy
drops blasted down, as though trying to shear her from her horse. Hailstones
popped onto her scalp, her spine.

 “I’m going back,” she shouted toward him, willing him with
her mind to turn around. To follow her.

“No,” came his reply. “We’ll never make it. Just up here,
there’s a place for the horses to get a little shelter. We’ll wait out the
storm. You’ll see. Just don’t worry. We’ll be perfectly safe. We’re almost
there.”

More hail, larger now, pelted off her back and pinged from
her head. The rain fell from the sky in sheets so thick she could hardly see.
As she drew near, she could make out Jake, astride his horse at the river. She
squinted as she approached. The water was roiling, churning; crashing frothy,
over boulders and stones.

Jake yelled toward her. “It’s running high. Too high to
cross. We’ll have to find shelter on this side…”

A sudden flash and a splintering clap of sound. Jess’s horse
reared back, then snapped forward. Her head did the same, violently, and she
lost hold of the reins. She tumbled forward, her arms and legs lashing through
the air. A sudden emptiness all around her. Then the river. Bitter cold.
Glacial. A flash of pain. She flailed her arms. For a moment, daylight, Jake’s
voice. Then a deep sucking pull. The current. A pull that surpassed her imagination,
groping at all sides of her. Taking her.

An arm now, a shadow, reaching, in the air above her. She
thrashed for it. Felt it. His grip tightened around hers. Then nothing. Her
head struck something that forced it backward. Daylight. She sputtered into the
air, then was pulled downward once more. A noise, muffled, muted. Another burst
of light. A single branch, looming above.

This was it. This was how she would end. At the mercy of
this pulling. This pulling that couldn’t be seen. Just a force, deep, deep
underground, taking her. Claiming her.

Something surged through her then. A final burst of
strength. She snatched at the shadow above, and it held, though it was a single
spindly branch. Then his arms around her waist, pulling. The earth beneath her
body. Hard and red. She heaved to her side and she choked and brayed and then
the feel of his head, heavy, on her belly. The movement of his lips, tight
against her skin, as he murmured her name, again and again.

She lifted her head. Slowly, slowly. Small hailstones popped
all around her, striking the ground, ricocheting in a hundred different
directions. Her eyes rolled heavenward. She expelled a huge breath; took in
another. Never had she felt so alive. She longed to stand, to yell, to stomp
her feet, to throw her river-soaked boots in the air. Her heart raced, nearly
exploding in her chest.

To nearly die, and then to live.

Her senses ripped open. The earth shimmered with vibrant
light; with color. She noticed everything: the way her tongue felt in her mouth;
the way her legs responded to her every command. She wiggled her toes and her
fingers. She drank in the scent of the plants and the herbs and the freshness
of the rain.

His face loomed above hers. She traced his jaw with her
finger, as though she were seeing his face for the first time. Her hands
trembled as she outlined his nose, his cheekbones. She pressed her finger to
the fleshy part of his lower lip. She searched his eyes, and she saw something
there; something she always longed to see in another.

He was weeping now. A single teardrop fell to her chest, and
she placed her hand where it had fallen. Each moment passed slowly, as though
she were moving through glass, etching each movement and detail in time: the
red dirt, the freshly laundered landscape, the scent of sage and of sweat and
of life.