Jenny Cussler's Last Stand (12 page)

Giving free rein to a heavy sigh of exhaustion, Jenny peered around in the darkness. Was she at the wrong van? There had been more than one.

Suddenly, a bouncing light along the ground emerged from around the back of the van. Jenny saw the tall shadow before he saw her at the side of the vehicle. The flashlight lit her tennis shoes and traveled up to her face, where she shielded her eyes from the blinding light.

“Clint! For pity’s sake, put that thing down. You’re blinding me! Are you following me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jenny. Are you all right?” The beam dropped to the ground, and Jenny froze at the sound of Brad’s voice. Her impulsive heart, which had jumped for joy only a second ago, suddenly plummeted.

“Brad!” She gave a nervous laugh, hoping he hadn’t heard her call Clint’s name. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was leaving the shower room, and I saw you heading this way. At least, I thought it was you. It’s dark out here. You’re at the wrong van, you know.” He chuckled, a comfortingly light sound in the darkness.

“Am I? I was afraid of that. Where the heck did it go? I thought I could find it in the dark.”

“It’s the next one over. I think this is the van from Portland.” Brad raised the flashlight toward the large shape on the other side of a large dark vehicle to their right.

“Oh, there it is.” Thankful that Brad could not see her red face in the dark, she chuckled ruefully. “I can’t believe I ended up at the wrong van. I could have been out here for a while trying to feel my way in the dark.”

“Here, come this way.” Brad lit a path for her, and Jenny followed him toward the van. He shone the light on the sliding passenger door, and she inserted the key and wiggled it. The door slid open. She turned gratefully to face him. The beam of the flashlight cast his face in a friendly glow.

“Thanks, Brad. I appreciate the help.” She turned and climbed into the van. “I’m going to need to get a flashlight,” she said. “It’s really dark up here at night away from the lights of the cities.”

“Yeah, it is. Take mine. I still don’t like the idea of you out here alone like this. I’m not sure it’s safe.”

“No, Brad, you keep it. You need it to get back. I’ll figure something out tomorrow. I’ll be fine out here. I’ll lock the doors. I haven’t heard of any wild animals around here, have you?” Jenny busied herself lowering seats to form a long bed. She spread her pillow and sleeping bag out.

“It’s not wild animals I’m worried about, Jenny. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t want the flashlight?”

“I’m okay, Brad. Go get some sleep. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Don’t unlock that door for any reason...not until the sun comes up.”

Brad backed away from the van.

“Go away, Brad. You’re scaring me. Not till the sun comes up! Good gravy, now I’m going to be worried about vampires.”

Brad laughed and moved away. Jenny pulled the door shut and locked it. She kicked off her tennis shoes and climbed into the sleeping bag. The temperature had dropped considerably, even from the time she and Kate had gone for their showers. She wondered if she would be warm enough tonight.

She crunched up into the fetal position, hoping she wouldn’t have nightmares. When the sun comes up, indeed! She screwed her eyes shut and hoped for the best.

It seemed only moments passed before she heard a movement near the van. Her eyes flew open, and she held her breath. Unexpected terror gripped her. If it were Brad, he would call out, wouldn’t he? A nearby door slammed. It sounded like a car door. Just someone getting into their car. Jenny tried to relax. She was tempted to locate the source of the noise but decided it was better to keep a low profile...literally. No one would know she was in the van unless they specifically looked through the windows.

“Jenny?” A whispered voice called her name.

Chapter Nine

Jenny shot up and peered out the now partially fogged windows of the van toward the left, toward the sound of the noise. A beam of light danced and crossed around the back of the van. Jenny’s heart slammed against her chest. Oh, surely vampires didn’t carry flashlights, did they? Was it Brad?

A tap on the passenger door and Jenny wanted to crawl into a ball. She squinted in the darkness and made out the face barely illuminated by the castoff glow of the flashlight. She recognized the high cheekbones.

“Clint,” she whispered. She unlocked the door and slid it open. “You scared me to death,” she babbled. “Brad was just here. I didn’t have a flashlight, and I couldn’t find the van, and then he saw me, and he came and we found the van, and then he mentioned not getting up till the sun comes up, and I thought of vampires.”

“Whoa,” Clint soothed as he climbed into the van with something large in his hands. He shut the door behind him and sat down beside her. “Are you okay? What was that all about? Did you say vampires?” Clint shut off the flashlight, and Jenny instinctively moved nearer him in the darkness. He put an arm around her.

“I wondered if this was going to work out...sleeping in the van. You really shouldn’t be out here by yourself. I think it’s safe, but I don’t know everyone at this camp. And look at you. You’re terrified.” He pulled her closer, and Jenny, nearly immobile in her sleeping bag, nestled closer. “Why don’t you go back to the cabin? I brought you an extra sleeping bag. I think it’s going to be cold tonight.”

Jenny shook her head against his chest. He smelled wonderful—soapy clean, trustworthy, safe—like a vampire hunter should. Jenny ignored her bizarre turn of mind and blamed it on Brad. She sighed. She was not returning to that stuffy cabin with five or six other women. She straightened and reluctantly pulled out of the circle of his arm.

“No, I’m staying here. I can’t stand being in the cabin. Too many people.”

Clint sighed. “I didn’t think you’d change your mind, but I thought I’d try. I feel awful with you out here, though, so I’ll tell you what. I’m going to fold down the seats of my SUV, and I’ll be right next door.”

Jenny craned her neck and looked out the window at the dark shape to the left.

“Is that your SUV? I didn’t recognize it in the darkness.” She bit her lip for a moment. She couldn’t put him through that. Why didn’t she just act normal and return to the cabin?

“I can’t have you do that on my account, Clint. You should be nice and snug and tucked up in your cabin. I’ll be fine out here. This is where I want to be.” Jenny held her arms out in an encompassing gesture.

Clint got to his knees and opened the van door. He climbed down.

“Well, you may be fine, but I’m not sure I will. I’ll worry about you all night. So I’m staying next door. It won’t be the first time I’ve slept in my car, believe me!”

“Oh, Clint. I feel so guilty. If I could act normal and go to bed like a normal woman, I would.” Jenny heard her words and gasped. “Wait, that’s not what I meant!”

Clint clicked on his flashlight and laughed. The brightness of his smile grabbed her heart.

“Why be normal and take all the fun out of it, Jenny? I think you’re interesting just the way you are.” With a continued chuckle, he reached to close the door. “Lock it. I’ll be right next door.” As he pulled the door, he paused. “Oh, and Jenny?”

“Yes?” she answered in a small voice.
Right next door.
Would she get any sleep that night, knowing he was so close?

“We don’t have any vampires here.” With another low-throated laugh, he closed the van door softly. Jenny watched through the steamed windows as he crossed over to his SUV and climbed in. He shut off the flashlight, and she slid down into her sleeping bag, pulling his extra bag on top of hers. She fingered the synthetic material of his bag and wondered how many times she was going to have to wash her hair in the next six days.

****

Jenny awakened to the sound of a rapping noise. Burrowed deep inside the sleeping bag, she peeped out over the edge and tried to remember where she was. A soft gray light filled the interior of the van.

“Jenny, wake up.” Another light tap accompanied the deep masculine voice outside the van.

Jenny’s eyes came into focus, and she saw Clint just outside the van. She reached to unlock the van door, her breath fogging as she exhaled, and she quickly retreated into her warm bag. Clint pulled back the door, setting Jenny’s heart fluttering. His tightly bound hair hardly seemed tousled. Jenny put a tentative hand to her own auburn mop and wondered if she looked as bad as she suspected.

“It’s time to get up if you don’t want anyone to know you’ve been sleeping out here. And trust me...you don’t want the elders to know. They won’t like it. They’ll think you’re nuts.” His teeth chattered as he grinned, and he shuffled back and forth in the crisp morning air with his hands shoved inside his jacket pockets.

“I don’t want to get up,” she mumbled over a broad yawn. “I’m cold.” She burrowed farther into her cocoon.

Clint quirked an eyebrow and eyed her. “I thought you would be. How did you sleep?”

“Great,” she said, somewhat defiantly. “I sleep better in the cold anyway.”

“I see,” he said with an upward twist of his lips. “City girl.”

“A cold weather city girl,” she retorted.

Clint held out a hand, and Jenny eyed it with a mixture of longing and sudden shyness.

“Come on,” he urged. “Get out of bed.”

Jenny obeyed and placed her hand in his warm one. He tugged on her gently, and she maneuvered out of her bag. She slipped into her shoes and climbed down from the van. The early morning mountain air was indeed cold, and she hoped it would warm up when the sun rose. Self-consciously she avoided Clint’s eyes and quickly turned around to fold the sleeping bags up, making short order of the task, as she had every intention of sleeping in the van again that night. She ignored the faint hope that Clint might join her as he had last night, albeit in the next vehicle.

“Are you ready?” he asked. “I’ll walk you over to the restroom. I’ve got to get up to the sweat lodges.”

“Sure.” Jenny turned to survey him. “What’s the matter, Clint? Can’t take the cold?”

“Not partial to it. Plus, I’ve got a crick in my neck from sleeping at an awkward angle.” He stepped away and rubbed the back of his neck. Jenny followed with a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have slept in your car last night, especially since you probably have a nice warm bed in the cabin.”

The crunch of the pine needles underfoot was the only sound other than their hushed voices as they walked through the sleeping campground. A subdued blue-gray light provided a backdrop for the dark evergreen trees and buildings.

Clint tossed her a quick grin, the deep dimple in his cheek startlingly charismatic.

“Don’t worry about it. That was my choice, and I’m sleeping in the SUV again tonight if you insist on sleeping in the van. Makes me feel better, knowing you’re safe.”

Jenny colored. His words brought a rush of warmth to a place deep in her chest, and she wondered if it was her heart. Was it possible for one’s heart to really “warm up”? She put a hand to her chest. It certainly felt like it.

They arrived at the shower building and parted ways.

“If I don’t see you at breakfast, I’ll see you in group.”

Jenny watched Clint walk away with a relaxed masculine long-legged stride, his dark ponytail swinging behind him. She tapped her nose and shook her head to drag herself back to a semblance of reality.

Ten minutes and a visit to the bathroom later, she arrived at the silent cabin. She crept in the door and over to her bunk above Kate to search for some clothing for the day. Slipping into a pair of jeans and a dark-blue cotton shirt, she eyed the sleeping Kate and wondered if she should wake her. A check of her watch indicated it was still only just 6:30 a.m. Jenny grabbed her jacket and made her way back outside. She stood on the porch and wondered what to do with herself at such an early hour. She could see that sleeping in the van would have its drawbacks, one of which was lack of sleep, especially if she had to sneak around in the dark.

Her attention was caught by a rosy glow from the fire pit at the community area. A lone dark figure prodded the fire with a long stick. With the thought that a nice hot fire would be just the thing to start the day, Jenny stepped off the porch and walked down to the community area.

A craggy-faced, gray-haired Native American sat on a rock by the now blazing fire. He leaned back, crossed his arms over the braids hanging down his chest, and stared at the fire. Jenny remembered him as Sam Two Dogs, the Lakota from South Dakota.

She stepped up to the warmth of the fire and stuck out her hands to warm them, as people often did, eyeing the man out of the corner of her eye.

The older man didn’t look at her, and she wondered if she was interrupting some sort of spiritual ritual or something. Unable to catch his eye for a greeting, she opted to take a seat on a log near the fire and say nothing. She stared into the fire for a period of time, wondering whether she should leave or stay. She had the awful feeling she was committing another egregious cultural error.

“Up early,” the older man said in a deep voice. Jenny jumped at the unexpected sound.

“Morning,” she breathed, unaccountably pleased he’d spoken to her. “You’re up early, too.” She turned her attention to him, but he continued to watch the fire, never looking in her direction.

“Mmm,” he grunted.

Jenny fell silent. She averted her eyes and joined him in contemplation of the merry blaze. Minutes passed.

“Where ya from?”

Jenny started again and looked at Sam. No eye contact ensued.

“Boise, Idaho. How ’bout you?” For some reason, Jenny had slipped into a staccato form of speech.

“Rosebud reservation...South Dakota.”

He broke his crossed-arm lock and jerked a thumb toward his chest.

“I’m Lakota. No one else here is Lakota. Just me. Sioux,” he clarified.

Jenny watched him from the corner of her eye but no longer tried to make eye contact.