Now and Forever (63 page)

"Yes, life is good," she murmured, drifting toward sleep. And, as long as they were together, it would only get better.

 
#

"Straight to the matter," Andrew said, plunging deeper into the woods.

"I thought you were gonna show us how to find our way around," Charlie said.

"That is what we're about."

"I don't see us doin' nothing special," said Angela. "We're just walking."

"We're doing more than walking," Dakota said. "Right, Andrew?"

"In truth there was much to be learned if you had looked with open eyes."

"A bunch of trees and plants," said Derek. "Big deal."

"Aye," Andrew said, "'tis a big deal indeed. Skunk, raccoon, and deer are nearby."

"No way," said Charlie. "I didn't see anything."

Andrew squatted near a fallen tree and pushed aside a handful of dead leaves. He gestured toward a series of depressions in the soft earth. "See the shape of the hooves clearly rendered, the way they overlap? The sign of a deer walking at a normal pace." He then gestured toward scrapes on the bark of the fallen tree. "'Twas a fine supper for a doe or buck."

They crowded around him, disbelief turning slowly to wonder, as he showed them the five-toed mark of a skunk and the distinctive impression of rabbit. "A young rabbit can be taken by hand," he said in a most ordinary tone, "but many a man has starved on a diet of rabbit alone. 'Tis not enough fat to--"

With that little Angela burst into loud sobs. "Mommy! He says we have to eat bunnies."

Angela's mother stepped forward to hug her daughter while the other mothers gathered round.

 
"I have no wish to make the child unhappy," he said, patting the girl on the head, "but 'tis a fact of life that to survive we must ofttimes perform unpleasant tasks."

A look passed between the women and then Angela's mother met his eyes.

"Go ahead, Mr. McVie," she said. "I think it's time we all learned how to survive."

 
#

Jules, the shelter's driver, called a little after five o'clock.

"I didn't wake you, did I, Ms. Whitney?"

"No, of course not," Shannon lied, stifling a yawn. "New arrivals?"

"Looks like," said Jules. "We're taking this one to the house you rented in Morristown but I don't have the key."

"I don't think I--" Shannon thought for a second. "Karen has it." Now that the papers had been signed, sealed, and delivered, Karen and the foundation would be handling the day-to-day running of the shelters. "Wait a minute," she said. "I forgot to give her the key. It's right here."

Jules was silent for a moment. "I gotta be at the police station in Flemington in twenty minutes to pick 'em up but I could swing by and get the key after."

"Whenever you can, Jules. I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't want to be a bother, Ms. Whitney. Just leave the key in your mailbox and I won't have to disturb you."

 
#

"You're good at this," Dakota said to Andrew as he struck a spark from a rock with the blade of his knife. "You don't meet too many lawyers who can start a fire without a match."

"You were to gather tinder," he said, meeting her eyes. "I see no contribution from you."

"I gave at the office," she said, then stopped. Of course he wouldn't understand the reference.

"You are a good friend to Shannon," he said, watching her.

"I like to think I am."

"You are," he said. "I know that for a fact but what I do not understand is why you dislike me as you do."

"I don't dislike you," Dakota said carefully.

"Aye," he said. "You do."

Dakota took a deep breath. "I'm worried, that's all."

"I will not hurt Shannon. You have my oath."

"I know you won't hurt her intentionally." She touched his forearm. "But--"

She felt as if she was falling end over end through space, tumbling toward the earth, faster and faster and--

Her eyes opened and she found Andrew kneeling over her, extending his cupped hands.

"Drink this," he said.

She looked at the brackish water.

"Where did you get that?" she asked.

"From the stream."

She shuddered. "Not on your life. I'm not a fan of toxic waste."

"Each time we meet, mistress, you swoon." He crouched closer to her. "What would be the reason?"

"It's--I...." Her words faded.

"You know." Andrew's voice was low so that the others could not hear. "You have known from the start."

She looked away. "I promised Shannon."

"You have second sight. My mother did as well."

Her eyes widened. "You believe in such things?"

"I believe there are things beyond understanding."

He smiled and she started to laugh. "All things considered, I suppose you would." After all, the man got there from an 18th century hot air balloon.

"But there is something else you see, isn't there?"

"Look, Andrew, I really can't talk about this. Shannon's my friend and I told her I wouldn't."

"God's oath, mistress, there are two things I swear: I will not hurt Shannon and I will never leave her."

Dakota's eyes welled with tears. "You will leave," she said. "That's one thing
I'm
sure of."

 
#

Shannon awoke with a start. She'd dozed back to sleep after Jules called. The key, she thought, stretching lazily. The key to the Morristown house was still in her purse instead of in the mailbox where she'd promised Jules it would be.

Stifling a yawn, she stood up, tightened the belt on her silk robe, then padded barefoot to the sun room. She switched off the alarm to the French doors, stepped outside, then hurried around the side of the house and down the driveway to the mailbox.

Clouds slid across the moon, obscuring it, while she walked back up the driveway.
 
Too dark for me,
she thought, wrapping her arms about her chest. Strange how eerie your own driveway could look at night when the house was empty...when you'd gotten used to it being not empty.

She would have laughed if anyone had told her it was possible to miss someone as much as she missed Andrew. The man was gone only a few hours and it felt like days.
He's in the woods, not Wyoming. He'll be back tomorrow morning.
She was almost tempted to venture into the woods herself, flashlight and compass in hand, and look for him.

Almost but not quite.

She heard a rustling sound from across the yard and shivered. It gave the old phrase
the night has a thousand eyes
a brand new twist.

She reached for the handle on the French doors, then paused. Too many strange noises. This time it was a snapping twig to the left. Some enterprising bureaucrat should outlaw strange noises on dark nights when a woman was home alone.

The wind rustled the trees and she caught the scent of something unfamiliar mingled with the smell of pine and hot summer air. A fragment of memory danced just beyond reach but she couldn't bring it forward into the light.

She swung the door open and was about to step back inside when something hit her hard from behind and sent her sprawling, face first, to the floor of the sunroom. Her right knee struck the tiles first. She waited for the pain to start but it didn't.

Maybe you had to breathe to feel pain...but she couldn't breathe...or think...or feel anything. There was only terror and the deep certainty that her worst fears were about to come true.
Andrew.
His dear face flashed through her mind. Would she ever see him again?

She closed her eyes, face pressed to the cool tile floor. She tried to make herself tiny, insignificant, invisible, but the world was narrowing down, growing smaller and smaller, until she was the center and there was no place left to hide.

 
#

"This is scary," Derek said. "Are we lost?"

Andrew smiled. "Far from it." He pointed up toward the sky. "See that band of stars arcing upward?"

Derek nodded. "You mean the Milky Way?"

"Aye," he said, although the term was unfamiliar to him. "Follow a straight line with your eye from the handle of the Plough to the brightly shining star. The Pole Star will always guide you."

"I don't get it," said Derek. "It's just a dumb star. Why don't we use a map?"

"Rambo's got Night-Vision goggles," said Charlie. "That's what I'd use."

"Sometimes you have naught save your God-given wits to guide you," said Andrew. "What would you do if--" He stopped abruptly. "Did you hear someone call my name?"

Derek shook his head. "Un-unh."

"Not me," said Charlie.

Inexplicably the hairs on the back of Andrew's neck began to rise and he stood up.

"Something is wrong," he said, turning to Dakota. "Do you feel it too?"

Dakota tilted her head. "What do you mean? A storm or something?"

"'Tis Shannon," he said, the dread inside his chest growing. "You do not sense a darkness settling over her?"

Dakota shook her head. "But that doesn't mean anything. Trust your gut. We'll be fine."

He gestured toward the others. "I do not wish to add to the women's distress."

"I was a Girl Scout," Dakota said, "not that you know what a Girl Scout is. This is survival training. We'll manage."

His brow furrowed. "I will not leave you unprotected." He handed her his knife. "Use this well."

"I hope I don't use it at all." A small smile tilted Dakota's mouth as she accepted the weapon. "Go to Shannon. I promise everything else will fall into place."

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Good to see you again, Katharine," her ex-husband said, yanking Shannon to her feet by her hair. It was the voice she'd heard every day of her marriage and in every nightmare since the divorce. "So where've you been hiding yourself?"

Bright waves of pain blurred her vision. She caught the image of a tall, handsome man in a hand-tailored suit. The kind of man you'd see in a corporate boardroom or a five-star restaurant. She tried to get into position to knock him off balance but her knee gave way and she staggered against him. His fingers were still threaded through her hair and he pulled again. She wondered how it was her scalp didn't separate from the rest of her.

Think, Shannon! You know how to deal with this. Just don't be afraid...think!
His height gave him an advantage but she knew she could best him if she could just regain her footing.

"Surprised to see me?"

She wouldn't answer him. He could go to hell before she'd answer him.

He reared back and swung at her, holding her head still so she absorbed all of the blow and more. The iron taste of blood filled her mouth and she tried not to gag.

 
"Not talking, Katharine?" His fingers dug into her scalp. "You never used to be this quiet."

With his other hand he grabbed her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. Once, a long time ago, she'd thought those grey eyes were beautiful. How wrong she'd been...how pathetically, tragically wrong.

She thought of Andrew. His infinite tenderness, the strength that was as much a part of him as his hazel eyes. A rough man, from a rougher time, and yet he knew more about love - in all of its aspects - than Bryant could ever understand.

"You had a lot to say to the police, didn't you? And you didn't shut up when you talked to the lawyers and the judge. What's wrong, Katharine?" His laugh made her tremble. "Will you talk to me if I call you Shannon? That's your new name, isn't it? Shannon." He looked at her, long and slow, his gaze traveling up her legs, over her belly, lingering on her breasts. "You don't look much like a Shannon." His fingers pressed harder against her temples until she felt like her head would explode. "Shannon puts out, doesn't she? The way I remember it, Katharine didn't much like it."