Lover's Knot (20 page)

Anger carried her forward anyway. “Hey, get out of there! Leave those deer alone. I’ve called the sheriff’s department, and they’re sending somebody.”

She limped toward the edge of the woods. She thought she saw a figure farther ahead. She moved beyond the perimeter, hobbling slowly from tree to tree.

“I’m serious. Get out of here! It’s not deer season, and this is private property. This is my land and you’re trespassing!”

She was breathing hard now. Suddenly she realized the man she’d seen might be Randy, exacting revenge for the way he’d been treated in front of his coworkers. Maybe her attempt to make amends hadn’t helped. Maybe he had more on his mind than hunting deer.

She stopped, aware that she had clearly lost her mind. Someone was out here, and she was shouting like a maniac. Logic threaded through rage. She wondered if she wanted to die, if in the wake of a difficult and painful recovery she had become so discouraged that she was begging someone to finish her off.

Logic, having made inroads, was now a flood.

“Lord…” She put her hand on her forehead and leaned forward, trying tocatch her breath.

Nothing she’d done was rational. She was identifying with deer. She had transferred her feelings to them.
For the second time that day she was challenging the man who had shot her in a dark parking lot, even though he was safely in prison
.

She listened. Somewhere in front of her, a twig cracked. She wondered how she could have been so foolish, made herself so vulnerable.

She had moved farther into the woods than she’d realized. The clearing was well behind her. She knew the way out, but could she get out, without attracting more attention? By now the deer were long gone. The hunter had no good reason to stay. Night was falling fast, and unless he was equipped with night-vision goggles, he’d missed his chance for fresh venison steak.

She waited and listened. She heard another twig snap, but she thought the sound was farther away. The man was either continuing his hunt or heading through the woods, back to a truck, perhaps, or over the hills.

She could hardly catch her breath. She felt sick and shaky, and her leg was throbbing as badly as it had that morning after she’d jumped off the porch. The thunder rumbled, and she knew the storm was moving closer. She began to wonder how she would make it back to the house without collapsing.

She heard more noise beyond her. In the past few minutes, crickets had begun their nightly serenade, and somewhere in the distance, crows cawed good-night. But over the sounds of a Virginia spring evening, she heard brush rustling, as if someone was passing through it just ahead of her.

She had to start back before the forest grew so dark that she lost her bearings and the storm arrived.

She moved slowly, feeling her way. The ground at her feet was shrouded by brush and vines. With sunlight filtering through the trees, it was easy enough to pick her way through it, but now she had to test each step before she gave it her full weight. Brambles snagged her jeans and she stopped to untangle herself. She thought about Black Beauty and wondered if he was nearby. A black snake would be the least of her worries, but she didn’t want to encounter him in the darkness. She doubted his mood was any better than hers.

She inched along, wincing every time she put her weight on the injured ankle. She was silently berating herself for setting back her recovery, when she stepped into the hole. One moment the ground was firm as she tentatively shifted her weight, the next it fell away. Pain shot through the injured ankle, and she fell forward. She managed to catch herself as she hit the ground, but her right hand slammed against a rock. The pain in her wrist rivaled the pain in her leg. She was stunned by it.

The forest went suddenly silent. She realized she had cried out, temporarily interrupting the twilight symphony. She bit her lip, trying not to moan, but the pain was fierce. Tears filled her eyes, and despite all efforts, she began to sob.

Moments passed while she gave in to her misery. Then, choking back tears and using her good hand, she managed to sit up. When she inched her injured foot from the hole and pressed it against level ground, agony shot through her.

She couldn’t imagine how she was going to get back to the house. Clearly she couldn’t put weight on the ankle now. Whatever damage she’d done to it that morning had just been made a hundred times worse. And who would guess she was here? Tomorrow was Sunday and no one would arrive to work on the house. When she didn’t show up at church, no one would give her absence a second thought, assuming she just wasn’t up to it.

She had no choice but to drag herself back to the cabin, sparing the ankle and wrist as much as she could. But she knew better than to think that could be accomplished quickly. Dragging herself with one hand and leg, resting, starting over, would take half the night. And a storm was on its way.

She was such a fool. Isaac was right. She had no business being out in the middle of nowhere. Her friends and neighbors had been kind, but it wasn’t their job to keep watch over her. Jamie had tried, and Kendra had chased her sister away.

“Ma’am?”

She gasped. The voice came from the darkness. “Who’s there?”

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“Who are you?” She wiped her nose on the back of a hand grimy with forest soil and peered into the darkness.

A figure materialized. The boy—and he was just a boy—appeared almost like a ghost in the shadows. But as he stepped closer, he formed into flesh and bone.

“Name’s Caleb.”

“What are you doing out here?” She looked for his gun. “You’re hunting, aren’t you? You’re the one I saw.”

“I don’t hunt.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Watching.”

“Watching me?”

“The deer.”

She tried to take this in, but the pain was more immediate than his words. “You’ve been here before?”

He stooped beside her. She saw that his hair was light, and his face still had the rounded cheeks of childhood. She guessed he might be as old as fourteen or as young as ten.

He didn’t look her in the eyes. “Never meant any harm. Can you stand?”

“No chance of that.”

“You got to go back inside before the rain comes.”

“You’re the one I shouted at?”

He was silent for a long time. Then said softly, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well, you did.”

He nodded, as if accepting that. “I’ll help you up.”

“You can’t manage my weight.”

“I can.” He got to his feet and held out his hand.

“I injured my ankle.”

“Got another one, right?”

Despite everything, she found that funny. The laugh was closer to hysteria than pleasure, and she hiccuped. “For the record, I injured my wrist, too. And yes, I have two of those, as well.”

He didn’t smile. He was a somber boy and he’d yet to meet her eyes. He dropped his arm and drew closer, stooping again.

“Put your arm ’round my shoulder.”

She was taller than he was, and he was slender. “I’ll pull you over.” She weighed her choices. “Considering you got me into this, you deserve to be pulled over.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She gathered what was left of her strength and put her arm over his shoulders. Then, using her good hand and leg, she pushed hard as he stood. She realized she was now upright, but dizzy from the pain.

“Wait a minute,” she gasped.

He stood perfectly still while she took deep breaths, willing herself not to faint. Even with his help, she wasn’t sure how she was going to manage this.

“You lean hard,” he said. “I can take it.”

They did manage somehow. She almost blacked out once. The boy was stronger than he looked and he kept her upright, although there were several close calls. What seemed like hours later, he helped her lower herself to the porch steps. She gritted her teeth and used the railing to jack herself up until she was sitting on the porch itself. From there, Caleb helped her stand again, just long enough to get inside and into a chair near the telephone.

“I’ll be going now,” he said, heading for the door.

“Wait, you haven’t…told me anything about yourself.” But by then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.

“W
hat a mess.” Elisa knelt at Kendra’s feet, gently feeling her friend’s ankle. Outside, lightning still shattered the darkness, but at longer intervals.

When her friend moved the ankle to the right, Kendra gasped. Elisa continued to probe. “I’m guessing it’s a really nasty sprain. But you have to get an X-ray in the morning. No arguments. Ice tonight. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. I brought a couple of packs. And four ibuprofen for pain and swelling. Now, let’s see the wrist.”

Kendra held out her arm. Elisa made tsking noises under her breath, then went for a washcloth and basin to clean it.

“Not as bad as the foot,” she said, peering at her handiwork when she’d finished. “But you will have a nasty bruise on the heel of your palm. You’ll probably need a simple splint to keep the wrist from bending while it heals.”

Kendra was bleary-eyed with misery and exhaustion. The moment Caleb left, she’d called Elisa. Now Elisa emptied the basin and returned with an ice pack, carefully wrapping it around the injured ankle and fastening it in place with what looked like strips of an old towel. Then she handed Kendra the pills and a glass of water.

Kendra swallowed them gratefully. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me.”

Elisa patted her shoulder. “So, you’ve met Caleb.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s been in my woods before.”

“He’s Cissy’s brother. He lives with her in-laws, the Claibornes.”

That much sounded familiar. “She did mention him.”

“He hasn’t been here long. It’s complicated.” Elisa pulled the coffee table closer to Kendra’s chair and gently propped her leg on a sofa pillow.

Kendra closed her eyes. “How fast do you think the Advil will work?”

“Not fast enough, but it’s the best I can do until I’m licensed to practice medicine again.”

She wanted to concentrate on something other than her ankle. “Tell me about Caleb.”

“Well, Cissy hadn’t seen him in years. In fact, she thought she would never see him again. When she was a girl, her mother was declared unfit, and Cissy went to live with her grandmother. But the grandmother didn’t have the strength to take them both, so Caleb was put up for adoption.”

“What happened?”

“Once Caleb was in state custody, the authorities discovered he had a heart defect. He had several surgeries, spent a lot of time in hospitals and special group homes. By the time he was well enough to live a normal life, he was too old to be easily adoptable. An enterprising social worker looked up his records and discovered he had a sister who by then was old enough to take him in. She tracked down Cissy, who was thrilled.”

“But he doesn’t live with her?”

“Cissy’s awfully young, and she has Reese and Helen to worry about. So the Claibornes stepped up to the plate. They’d already raised three boys, but I think their house was feeling too empty. So they volunteered. Cissy spends every minute she can with Caleb, and the Claibornes take up the slack.”

“Is it working out?”

Elisa was silent.

Kendra opened her eyes. “No?”

“Caleb has led a troubled life. He’s a loner. He refuses to make friends or spend time with kids from school. He rarely smiles or says much. He does what he’s told without complaint, but he’s just going through the motions. He has had therapy, of course, but that doesn’t help much if your life is unstable.”

Kendra had seen a different side of Caleb. “Apparently he loves animals. He was following a group of deer. And he came to my rescue, even though I’d yelled at him to go away. That’s not going through the motions. A lot of well-adjusted teenagers would have run for cover.”

“It is a good sign.”

Kendra shifted her foot, and pain shot through it. She winced. “He reminds me of Isaac. Isaac was also at the mercy of people who didn’t love him. It’s like this ankle. Everything’s just fine until I make the slightest change. Caleb and Isaac are careful not to change a thing, because they’re afraid that however bad things are, they
really
won’t like what comes next.”

“I called Isaac, Kendra.”

Kendra sat forward, and regretted it immediately. “When?”

“I called before I came. Because you can’t stay here alone. You have to have somebody helping you for the next few days, and I have interviews in D.C. and Charlottesville tomorrow and the next day. We can find somebody from the church to stay with you, but Isaac deserved the right of first refusal.”

“You should have asked me first. I can manage—” Elisa cut her off. “No, you can’t. There are some things you can’t do alone.”

Kendra started to argue, then fell silent as she remembered her talk with Sam. There was a common theme here. “What did he say?” she asked at last.

“He’s on his way. He should be here before too long.”

“I’ll bet he wasn’t happy.”

“He didn’t tell me his feelings. He just said he would come. Without hesitation.”

“You know I’ll never be able to trust what he does. Is he coming because he feels guilty he let me down the night I was shot? Or is he coming…?”

“Because he loves you?”

Kendra shrugged.

“Why don’t you just dispense with the tests and ask him?”

Kendra heard the gentle censure. “Because I’m afraid to hear what he’ll say.”

“But once you know for sure, you can move forward.”

“Right now I can’t move at all.”

Elisa rested her hand on Kendra’s shoulder in comfort. “Good. That means you can’t run away. And if he is the decent person I think he is, neither can he.”

The last time Isaac had driven this fast, he’d been following Kendra’s ambulance to George Washington Hospital. That night would haunt him forever. There had been a moment that night when he had considered driving past the hospital, out of Foggy Bottom, abandoning the District forever. He had imagined himself driving through Maryland and Pennsylvania into the flat prairies of the Midwest. He’d wondered how far he could drive before exhaustion claimed him. And what would he do when he reached the West Coast and there was only the Pacific Ocean crashing in front of him?

He had told Kendra not to move into the cabin. He’d warned her that she might encounter problems living alone. The woman he married could have survived alone in a Bedouin tent or a thatched hut on the Amazon. But this new Kendra, this fragile creature who had come so close to death, had too few resources and too many needs. He had told her, and she had refused to listen.

He was angry. He could feel it boiling up inside him. Kendra had placed herself in danger, almost as if she were thumbing her nose at him.
You won’t take care of me, so I’ll take care of myself
.

Now he wondered how badly she was injured. What would he find when he got there? A false alarm and a wife on the porch to greet him? An empty cabin with a note telling him where another ambulance had taken her? He had planned to visit her again, but he’d found one excuse after another to delay.

But if he’d come, if he’d just come…

He banged his palm against the steering wheel.

No matter what he found, it was time for Kendra to come home. He’d had enough of worrying, of wondering, of his hand poised over the telephone as he debated whether to call, just to hear her voice. She had insisted she wanted solitude, but now he was going to insist she abandon it.

He arrived in the final whimper of the thunderstorm and saw Kendra’s and Elisa’s cars. He pulled in and sprinted toward the porch. Something too much like a river ran along the side of the cabin, washing away soil as it flowed. He didn’t bother to knock when he entered. He pushed the bedroom door open, but no one was there. He crossed the dogtrot and opened the living room door. Kendra was sitting in the armchair, her foot propped on a pillow. Elisa was walking toward her with an ice pack.

“How are you?” he asked his wife without preliminaries. He fixed his gaze on Elisa’s hands as he spoke.

“Better than I have a right to be.”

Kendra managed to sound nonchalant, but he could tell she was in pain.

“I don’t think anything is broken.” Elisa pressed the pack against Kendra’s ankle and tied it in place. “But she has a nasty sprain. She will need X-rays tomorrow, wrist and ankle, just to be sure.”

“Thanks for calling me.”

“She needs to stay as quiet as possible. That means she will need help.”

“That’s why I came.”

“I’m actually sitting right here,” Kendra said. “In case anyone’s forgotten.”

Elisa straightened. “You may have four more Advil in three hours. You will call your doctor first thing in the morning?”

“Good thing I found one in Woodstock.”

To Isaac, the fact that Kendra now had a local doctor was one more sign she intended to stay in Toms Brook. He felt anger slice through him again, even as he told himself that having a doctor nearby only made sense.

“I can take over from here.” Even to his ears, his voice was too gruff.

Elisa took her purse off a chair. “She’s had a hard evening.”

He heard the warning.
Don’t make it any harder
. He gave a curt nod. “I’ll take good care of her.”

“I like to leave my patients in good hands.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.” He glanced at his wife, something he had tried not to do. Her complexion was drained of color, and her freckles stood out in sharp relief. Her expression was haunted. “You’ll be okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

That was debatable.

He opened the door for Elisa. Outside, the storm was now a drizzle. She stopped at the edge of the porch and drew a deep breath. “It’s cooler. I was afraid it might just be more humid.”

The temperature had dropped, although he hadn’t cared enough to notice. “Watch where you step. There’s a stream flowing past the house.”

They descended together. Now the drizzle actually felt good, balm against his heated skin. He slowed his pace to match hers.

“Kendra would like us to think she’s recovering on schedule,” Elisa said. “But she won’t recover fully until she faces the damage she has suffered.”

“What in the hell was she doing out in the woods with a storm coming? And with the threat of poachers? It’s a terrible idea for her to stay here. I hope she’ll see reason now.”

Elisa was silent until they reached her car. Then she faced him. “I have to disagree.”

“With which part?”

“It’s a
good
idea for her to stay here. Too many people use work, exercise, useless activity to keep from asking themselves questions about their lives. She has made a commitment to ask. What she hasn’t yet done is listen to the answers.”

“You’re talking in riddles.”

“You will have to find the answers together.”

“That’s pretty hard to do when she’s so far away.”

“You’re here now. She’s here.”

He watched her get in the little Honda and drive away; then he took a deep breath. Things were better than he’d feared. Kendra was in pain but otherwise all right. There was no emergency.

Minutes passed before he went inside. Kendra’s eyes were closed, so he examined her in the lamplight. Her breathing was too fast and her lips were drawn down in pain. Her expression and bravado reminded him of the alley cat he’d rescued. Somehow, despite all predictions, the cat had survived surgery and had been released from the animal hospital to recover at the apartment of ACRE’s vice president of marketing. Kendra would recover, as well.

Kendra opened her eyes. “Make yourself at home. There’s a container of chicken soup in the fridge. Did you eat dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I think there’s beer. I know there’s half a bottle of wine on the counter.”

“Would you like something?”

“A new start to the day. I’d do it a little differently.”

“I imagine.” He went into the kitchen to rummage through the refrigerator. He found four bottles of beer squeezed behind cartons of milk and orange juice, and took one. He recognized it as a leftover from their barbecue.

He found an opener; then he poured Kendra a glass of wine. She took it gratefully.

“If I pass out right here, just leave me. I’ll never know the difference.”

“How long do I leave the ice pack in place?”

“Twenty on, twenty off.”

He took the seat across from her. “How does it feel?”

“Like I stepped in a hole and nearly separated the foot from the ankle.”

He didn’t know where to go from there. He sipped his beer as if that took great energy and concentration.

“You’re dying to ask me what happened, aren’t you,” she said at last.

“I got the basics from Elisa.”

“I didn’t ask her to call you.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

“What does that mean?”

Anger flared again, despite all his earlier attempts to dampen it. He set the bottle on the table with inordinate care. “It means I know you’d rather drag yourself through the forest like a wounded animal than ask me for anything.”

Her eyes widened. “Well, that’s true enough.”

“You sound surprised. Maybe you think I haven’t noticed?”

Something sparked in her eyes, either pain or anger that was rising to match his. “Well, now that you mention it, I wasn’t sure. There’s not a lot you notice about me. I’ve become a piece of furniture in your well-ordered life.”

“A piece of furniture conveniently removed to the country house?”

“More like a piece of furniture being refinished.”

“Why don’t we stop talking about furniture and talk about us?”

“We
are
talking about us.”

He carefully spaced his words. “I have never stopped noticing you.”

“And what does that mean, exactly? That you recognize my existence? Well, thanks a lot.”

A familiar whisper in his head told him to call this quits right now.
Isaac, don’t push him. Don’t get him mad. You know what he’ll do. Just let it go. Let it go…
.

“This is no time to argue,” he said after a moment. “You’ve already had one hell of a day.”

“I don’t need a good ankle to get this out in the open.”

“Get
what
out in the open?”

“Isaac, can you really be that clueless? Do I need to spell out everything? Okay, here I go.” She leaned forward, although judging by her wince, the move cost her.