Beholden (21 page)

She also kept busy separately, cooking time-consuming
recipes to eat up the hours, drawing enough sketches to fill two art pads and reading every paperback she could pick up on
their rare visits to nearby towns for supplies. They talked, of course, and the tone was friendly even. But it was as two
barely acquainted coworkers in the same building might.

Yet there was a tension between them as real as their independent efforts to deny it.

“Timber!” Luke sang out as the fir hit the ground. Up the hill confined behind the fence, Prince’s sharp ears picked up the
sound and he barked in response. He’d decided not to let the dog run loose on their occasional walks along the trails for
the big Doberman had a tendency to wander.

“Now what?” Terry wanted to know. “Surely you aren’t planning on carrying that big tree back yourself?”

Luke hefted the trunk up with one gloved hand and hoisted the ax over his other shoulder. “Now, we drag it back.”

“Aha! I guess I never would have made it in the wilderness.” She fell in step with him as they headed back to the cabin, thinking
that he looked every inch the outdoor woodsman. Since their arrival at this cabin, he hadn’t shaved and he hadn’t had a haircut
since joining her nearly two months ago. She rather liked his new look, though the change made his lean face appear even more
dangerous.

“Does your family open gifts on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?” Luke asked.

“Christmas Eve after dinner. Then we all go to midnight Mass.” She felt uncomfortable discussing the holiday, not just because
she was away from her family, but because she couldn’t help but wonder what Luke and Bob Jones had had in the way of Christmas
celebrations spending years at a boys’ ranch. Not much, she imagined.

She had a face that expressed her every emotion, Luke thought, studying her as they strolled together. “We used to open ours
on Christmas morning,” he said softly, giving in to an odd need to reassure her that those years hadn’t been all bad. He caught
her surprised glance and shifted his gaze
to the clouds in a darkening sky. “Different churches would collect things and distribute them to us. Gloves, slippers, scarves,
hand-knit sweaters. Cookies and homemade fudge. Footballs and secondhand bikes. We did all right.”

Sure they did. Her heart went out to the boy he’d been, the one who’d known neither a father’s love nor a mother’s. She searched
her mind for a change of subject. “I don’t suppose if you were back in Sedona that you’d be bothering with a tree. Thanks
for going to the trouble for me.”

“It’s an experiment, really. I want to see what you can come up with in the bordello bungalow to decorate this thing.”

Terry smiled up at him. “Just you wait and see.”

She surprised him with her inventiveness. She’d strung together popcorn on one line, cranberries on another. She’d clipped
pictures with unusual shapes from magazines and fastened them to the branches with bits of thread from a sewing kit she’d
found. She’d cut strips of red satin cloth found in the same kit and made them into streamers for the tree. She’d found a
holly bush and added sprigs from that. And she’d fashioned a big silver star from aluminum foil for the top. In lieu of lights,
she’d propped his high-beam flashlight so that it shined on the tree.

“There, what do you think?” she asked, standing back.

Hands crossed over his chest, he surveyed all sides of the tree, his brow furrowed. “Best damn tree in all of Big Sur. Maybe
in all of California.”

Terry gathered up the remnants of her decorations. “You’re making fun of me.”

“No, actually, I’m not.” He stopped in front of her. “I like it far better than those professionally done trees. Your tree
has meaning. It has…” He paused, searching for the right word.

“Heart,” she offered, because that’s what homemade trees meant to her. “My mother’s tree has all these ornaments
all four of us made in school when we were little. Rice Krispies dyed and glued together in the shape of stars and wreaths.
Reindeer made from pipe cleaners. Cotton pasted on as a beard for Santas cut out of red cardboard. She saved them all.”

His eyes warmed as he looked into hers. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.” He took the trash from her and went outside to dump it.

Terry stood looking after him, wishing she could have gotten him a Christmas gift, something small but meaningful. She had
a feeling Luke hadn’t had many meaningful gifts in his lifetime. He was a paradox, this hard man who would deny having any
soft feelings. Yet he had them and he craved them in return, she was sure of it.

But would he ever acknowledge what he thought of as a weakness?

Emily removed John Ryan’s shoes and heard him grunt a response as she maneuvered his legs up onto the bed. Gently she pulled
the blanket up to cover him, then stood looking down at her husband of over thirty years.

Ten-thirty on Christmas Eve and he was passed out drunk. This hadn’t happened on a holiday since the year Kathleen had died.
Emily knew why John drank these days. But she could do little to lighten his sorrow. She had her own fair share to deal with.

John let out a deep snore and shifted in his sleep. Would he ever be the same, either way? Emily wondered. This stress wasn’t
good for his heart. Would another attack take him before long? He hadn’t been drinking, at least, not until tonight. He also
hadn’t been eating well and he’d lost weight.

With a heavy sigh, Emily switched off the bedside light and left their bedroom. She’d sent the kids on to mass, telling them
she’d be along. Wearily, feeling older than her fifty-four years, she went to the closet for her coat.

Only in prayer, it seemed, did she place any hope or find even temporary peace.

It would come over her at the oddest moments, Luke noticed. Terry would get that faraway look in her eyes and he knew she
was remembering. Her family, her friends, the life she’d had to give up. Sometimes she’d go to the bedroom and listen to her
Walkman until the mood passed. Other times she’d curl up on the couch, unaware he was watching her, and the trembling would
take over. She’d hug her knees tightly while she stared into the fire, seeing other scenes, he was certain.

All were symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He’d been taught how to help someone through those episodes, by talking
soothingly to them until the spell passed, or holding them until they could fight their way back, and even walking with them
with an arm around a shoulder, letting them know someone understood. But, except for that evening she’d let him hold her,
Terry didn’t appear to want his help.

That was his fault, more than likely. The one time he’d reached out to comfort, he’d soon been touching her in a way that
had nothing to do with comfort. Probably she was afraid of allowing him too close for fear she’d find herself in a situation
she was too bruised to be able to handle. He couldn’t blame her.

She’d managed to make it through the holidays, but two days after Christmas, he noticed she was pacing in that restless way
that preceded a bout with her disturbing memories. He’d spoken with Bob Jones earlier, hoping he’d have some good news that
he could pass on to Terry. But, although a judge had been assigned, the trial date was yet to be decided. That news had depressed
her. But maybe he could come up with a diversion and get her mind off her troubles.

He walked over to where she was standing looking out the window. “What do you say we pack a picnic lunch and
go for a hike up one of the mountain trails? I think we’re both getting cabin fever from being cooped up so long.”

Terry shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. “I don’t know.” She frowned at the distant hill dotted with shrubs and manzanita.
What if someone was out there waiting for her with a high-powered rifle?

“It’s a beautiful day. Come on. The exercise will do us both good.”

She watched a blue heron land in the top of a pine tree, its wingspan awesome. She’d always enjoyed nature, enjoyed hiking
the trails in Phoenix, though the California mountains were much higher and more rugged. Back then, she hadn’t been afraid
of anything. Now she jumped at shadows, cringed at sudden noises, cried out in her sleep. “I’d like to, but… ”

Luke turned her to face him. “Terry, I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”

She did, as far as that went. But no one man could think of everything, be everywhere. And did she trust herself not to fall
apart up there if the fear took over? “Yes, I trust you. And I am tired of being inside, but I can’t help being afraid. You
told me any stranger might be a hired gunman.”

He had told her that to keep her from being careless, to get her to follow orders. But what good would staying alive be if
her mind cracked from the strain? “We’re not apt to run into anyone up this almost-deserted mountain. I’ll be armed as always.
We won’t go far, just up around the other side, where we can see the ocean. All right?”

In the end, she agreed, and later, as they sat on a plaid blanket from the van and drank coffee from the thermos and nibbled
on cold chicken, Terry was glad she’d allowed Luke to talk her into going. Her hands curled around the warm mug, she drew
in a deep breath of clean, salty air and watched the distant waves bounce against the rocky shoreline. “It is beautiful up
here. The sea’s more hypnotic than staring into a fire.”

Stretched out and braced on his elbows, Luke watched several pelicans prance along the frothy water. “I can’t blame you for
wishing you lived up here.” His glance took in the area surrounding them. “I wonder where all the homes are.” They hadn’t
passed but one on the way up, and that one was near their own cabin. Through his binoculars, he’d seen an older man wearing
overalls outside that sprawling house. He’d been carrying what looked like a BB gun that he used to take pot shots at a flock
of noisy crows.

“You couldn’t wish for a more private area.” She watched a sandpiper land in the golden grass near a scrub California black
oak and begin scavenging for food. “It’s so peaceful up here. You can almost forget that that highway leads to all manner
of rotten people just waiting to hurt others.”

Luke shifted to study her face and saw the unmistakable signs of stress. He saw also the two areas of scar tissue that would
need more plastic surgery. He’d tried to bring that up again recently, but Terry had refused to consider anything to do with
doctors right now. He’d wanted to press, had been told by her last doctor that there would be less corrective work necessary
if she didn’t wait too long. But he also understood her reluctance to face more pain after all she’d been through. It would
be easier once all this was over.

He searched for words that might make her feel better. “Terry, I know you don’t think so now, but one day, all this will be
in the past, a terrible nightmare but one you got through. You’re a survivor. You’ll be all right. I know because I’ve been
through this with a lot of other people.”

She turned to look at him. “And they all came through with flying colors, all walked back into their former lives and picked
up the threads as if nothing had happened?”

“I didn’t say it would be easy, but in time, it will be over.”

“Did anyone you had in the program ever just decide to drop out, to take their chances?” She’d been wondering about this for
some time.

Luke sat up, the image of Jill Hastings appearing in his mind’s eye. “Only one that was under my protection, a woman.”

“Had she been on the run with you like me, moving from place to place at a moment’s notice?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

He poured more coffee into his mug. “About four months.”

Terry angled her body around so she could see him better. “Did she just decide to walk away one morning?”

“Not exactly. It’s a long story.” One he didn’t want to tell nor even remember.

She touched his arm, something she rarely did. “Please tell me. I need to know.”

Under the circumstances, she was a hard woman to refuse. He took a sip of his coffee, wondering where to begin. “Jill Hastings
was her name and she was a registered nurse on private duty at the home of this wealthy California politician, Charles Greenway.
She was in her late twenties, blond, attractive. He was considerably older, had had a mild heart attack, and she’d been hired
to nurse him back to health.

“Everything was fine until the day she overheard Greenway congratulating a couple of his men on killing a zoning inspector,
who’d refused to cooperate, at his orders. Jill ran out and got away, calling us from a phone booth. Like with you, we took
down her statement and put her in protective custody because Greenway had a lot of powerful people in his pocket. We’d been
watching his activities for a long time, but couldn’t pin anything on him. But suddenly, we had him.”

“And you were assigned to protect Jill?”

“Right. I was green, on my second assignment. I was young and stupid, despite all my training. We were on the run and it was
exciting, adrenaline pumping, living on the edge, you know?”

“You fell in love with her,” Terry guessed. He was quiet so long, staring out to sea, that she wondered if he was going to
continue.

“I thought I did, I suppose. Since then I’ve decided it was probably hormonal.”

“Are you just saying that because she hurt you?”

He looked at her, a little surprised at her astuteness. “Maybe. At any rate, it never would have worked out.” He saw no point
in detailing the actual involvement. “Jill hated being confined, became restless quickly, threatened to walk away countless
times. Finally, she made good and left one night after dark when I thought she was asleep. We were staying in a cabin in a
remote area of Colorado. It wasn’t snowing, but it was damn cold. I called HQ for backup and went looking for her.”

This was hard for him, she could see, so she waited and let him tell it in his own way.

“It was early morning, scarcely dawn, when I finally spotted her on one of the trails some distance from me. But what I didn’t
know was that one of Greenway’s men had located us, too. I also didn’t realize that the backup the home office had sent, Bob
Jones and another agent, had caught up with us. The area was thick with fog and visibility wasn’t good. I called out to Jill,
telling her to stop, that we’d go down the mountain together. She turned and I know she saw me, but she kept on going. I ran
after her. I’d just rounded a bend when I spotted this guy with a gun behind a tree, taking aim at Jill. I yelled to her and
lunged forward. But Jones was closer to her, his reaction faster. He threw himself in front of Jill and took the bullet meant
for me.”