Rose Quartz (20 page)

The moon shone through the tree limbs and illumed a red fox that came loping through the underbrush. Seeing Bella, he backed up and melted into the night. She pushed herself away and headed for the lane, cutting a wide swath around the house. She could hear car doors slam and car motors start up. After a moment, the sounds of the engines grew fainter and all she heard was the wind rustling the tree leaves and the occasional crackle of underbrush from other nocturnal creatures.

Bella trudged on. She needed to call Jack and Maureen but her cell was in the truck. Dammit. She still clutched Victoria’s cell phone but it didn’t do her a whole lot of good since she couldn’t remember Maureen’s number.

She’d just have to walk to the road and hitch a ride. She stopped. There was someone she could call. She got a rush just thinking about it. Flipping open the phone, she looked at the directory. Under the Ds she found Daddy and pressed the send button. The prison answering machine came on. “This is Bella Tremaine. Please give Victor Price a message for me. Tell him…he lost.” She clicked the phone shut. If he got the message it wouldn’t be until morning. And even then there was no guarantee it would be delivered. She shrugged. Regardless, it made her feel better.

As Bella walked parallel to the lane, she heard the sound of an approaching car. She stopped, standing deep in the shadows. The SUV came sweeping around the curve. But how? The last time she’d seen it was alongside the road out of gas. Her heart pounding, joy engulfed her. How indeed? She ran toward the lane, waving her arms. She leaped on the dirt road in the SUV’s path, waving her arms madly. The lights swept over her. The driver threw on the brakes. Gravel and dirt spurted as the tires screamed, grabbing the road for traction.

Throwing open the door, Hank leaped out and pulled her into his arms. She held on for dear life, pressing her body against the warm, hard length of him, burying her face into his neck, drawing in his musky scent. He turned his head and his lips found hers.

At last
,
I
’
m home
.

* * * * *

He should have heard from Victoria by now. If something had gone wrong… He swallowed down the thick lump of fear in his throat then straightened his spine. He had no reason to be frightened. Gods couldn’t die. But lately very mortal thoughts had been creeping in about pain and mortality. Glancing to his right, he saw Striker approaching. For the first time he noticed that the other prisoners in the activity room had melted away and no guards were in sight. He saw the knife in Striker’s hand. It looked like he was going to find out once and for all if he was mortal or a god.

Chapter Thirteen

A noisy blue jay screaming outside Bella’s window woke her. She reached out her hand and felt nothing but an indentation in the pillow. Hank had left but the male scent of him lingered in her bedding. The memories of the night before washed over her and left her limp. She stretched and felt like purring. Who would have thought such a tough, taciturn man would be such a consummate lover? He might be fifty but it certainly didn’t affect his stamina. She felt her lips tipping upward in a wide grin.

Rolling over, she looked at the red letters that glowed on the digital clock. One o’clock. Good lord, she’d slept the morning away. Sabina, Maureen and Jack should all be on their respective planes by now, Sabina back to Italy and Maureen and Jack winging to Hawaii for their honeymoon.

Better get up and get moving. She swung her legs over the side of the mattress, pushed off the bed and headed for the shower, naked as the jaybird squawking outside her bedroom window.

The warm sluicing heat felt wonderful on her various aches and pains, not all of which could be attributed to her mad run through the woods last night. Bella stuck her head back and let the hot water pelt against her skin and hair. She felt the upward tug of her lips again. Gods, she felt great. Now if Hank would just join her, this lovely sensual feel of water sliding over her skin like warm silk would be even better.

She splashed around for a while longer, indulging her fantasy. When it became clear Hank wasn’t receiving her telepathic message she sighed and turned off the faucet. She pushed her dripping hair out of her face and reached for the large fluffy yellow towel hanging on the hook beside the shower.

Toweling off, she pulled on a pair of designer jeans and a blue silk shirt then paused at the window to look out at the rolling meadow. The view never failed to enchant her, to call to her with a sweet siren song of the land. Good thing she was heading back to Atlanta, otherwise she’d find herself in cowboy boots listening to country tunes on the radio.

Bella touched her amulet—she and Sabina had exchanged them back last night—gave herself a light glamour sweep then ran down the steps, feeling at peace with the world. She could visit Hank once or twice a month and he could come to Atlanta once or twice a month. She was certain they could work something out that would be mutually satisfying. She grinned wickedly at her play on words.

Reaching the kitchen she stopped and sniffed the air much like the white cat sitting on the kitchen chair, batting at the dog. She blinked. He must have followed Hank down. Puss–Puss usually stayed with her until she got up.

“Good morning.” Leaned back, his elbows propped against the counter, Hank watched her, a quiet smile on his face.

Bella studied him, an answering smile on her own. The beauty amulet may have smoothed out the lines around his mouth and eyes and faded any age spots on his high cheekbones but it was the inner peace she could see in his eyes that made him so damn attractive.

He pushed away from the counter, poured her a cup of coffee and brought it to her.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Good morning, sugar.”

His arm went around her waist. “Now that’s the best good morning I can remember getting in years, maybe in all my life,” he murmured.

She snuggled into his arms. He leaned back far enough to hand her the white stoneware coffee mug. Burying her nose in the steam rising from it, she sniffed. “Mmm, smells heavenly.” Her stomach growled loudly. She grinned up at him. “Got anything to go with it? I’m starving.”

He pointed to the counter. “We’re going on a picnic.”

For the first time, Bella noticed the wicker picnic basket. A red-and-white-checked table cloth peeked out from under the lid. “Oh, what a lovely idea.” She looked ‘round the kitchen.

“Did you misplace something?”

She shook her head. “No, I was looking for Adam.”

“He went back to Atlanta. He left about an hour ago.”

“So it’s just us.” She gave him a sultry look from under her lashes.

His arms tightened around her but he said mildly, “Just us and the horses.”

“I should have known you planned to put me to work in the stables.”

“Everyone’s got to pull their weight but you are safe for today. I’ve already done the chores. Are you ready?”

She looked longingly at her coffee. “I suppose so.”

He caught her glance. “Take it with you. You can drink it while I saddle the horses. You do ride, don’t you?”

“I can stick in a saddle.”

“Let’s go then.” He snapped his fingers and Wolf came bounding forward. His tail wagging, he followed them out the door.

Hank walked to the corral and saddled a big bay and a buckskin. The buckskin stood swishing its black tail against a fly that buzzed around him. Hank checked the horse’s girth then glanced at her feet. She was wearing a pair of brand-new tennis shoes. “Marnie’s got an extra pair of boots in the tack room if you’d prefer boots.”

“Too big. These will be okay.”

“They just might not be as pretty and white when we get back. You ready?”

She nodded. With a flick of her wrist she threw the remains of her coffee on the ground and sat the mug near the barn where it wouldn’t get broken.

He motioned her forward. “This is Buck. He’s a real ladies’ man, aren’t you, boy?” The horse snorted and threw his head up and down, making Bella grin.

His hands on the buckskin’s shoulders, Hank held the reins ‘til Bella settled into the saddle then handed them to her. He picked up the wicker basket and showed it to the bay so as not to startle him then mounted in one smooth motion. “Let’s go.” He put the wicker basket in front of him, tapped his heels against the horse’s flank and the horse broke into a canter.

“Come on, sugar.” Bella clucked to Buck and the horse broke into a trot, his hooves thudding against the packed dirt. She lifted him into a canter.

Dust spurted beneath the horses’ heels as they rode out of the yard. Hank kept his eye on Bella, watching the way she sat her horse and held her reins. “You’ll do.” He relaxed into the saddle.

“Where are we going?” A light wind blew her hair back from her face.

“You once commented about the view from your bedroom window. We’re going to picnic there.”

“Oh, that’s right. You said the owner wouldn’t mind.” She held the reins in one hand, the other rested on her thigh as she swayed with the buckskin’s rhythm, his hooves rustling the grass.

“I said the owner wouldn’t mind having a beautiful woman picnicking on his property,” he corrected.

She laughed. “So you did.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

She threw back her head and shaded her eyes with her hand as she watched a hawk keen overhead.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Hank’s hands rested on his saddle pommel, the reins laced through his fingers.

As the hawk disappeared on the horizon, she glanced at him. “Yes, it is.”

She looked around, seeing everything through the eyes of an artist. The deep emerald of the grass rustling beneath the horses’ hooves, the robin’s-egg blue of the sky and the deep brown of the bark on the trees.

Hank reined in his horse as they crested a low, rolling hill. A crystal clear creek meandered at its base. The sun shone on the water covering it with sparkling prisms of color. Bella blinked, nearly blinded by the sun’s reflection. “Oh, this is beautiful,” she breathed.

The answer seemed to please him. “I’m glad you like it.”

They rode down the slope and dismounted. Bella wandered over to a small purple patch of wildflowers just budding out, an idea for a painting forming in her mind while Hank spread out the tablecloth.

She hiked downstream looking for new colors and textures, still visualizing her painting. When she returned everything was set out. Hank leaned against an old oak, one leg bent behind him, his boot resting against the tree.

“This is perfect, sugar.” On the checked tablecloth sat a red and white bucket of KFC, a stack of round containers, paper plates and two plastic champagne glasses. “Where’d you get the chicken?”

“I drove into town before you got up.” Pushing himself away from the tree, he walked to the creek and pulled out a bottle of champagne. “Put it in there to cool,” he explained.

He popped the top. Foam flowed over the neck of the bottle and over his hand. Bella bent down, picked up the glasses and held them out. He filled the plastic flutes and she sipped the effervescent liquid, the bubbles running down the back of her throat. “What a lovely idea.”

Lifting his glass, he toasted, “To you.”

She touched his glass with hers. “To you.”

“To us,” he responded, looking deep in her eyes.

Unease tapped down the burgeoning happiness in her heart. She lifted her glass. “To lunch. I’m starved, let’s eat.”

He motioned her to sit down then dropped down beside her and began to open the waxy pressed-cardboard cartons. The scent of biscuits, mashed potatoes, gravy and fried chicken filled the air. He filled a heaping plate, added some creamy coleslaw and handed it to her then filled one for himself.

He
’
s such a thoughtful man
.
“Thank you, Hank.”

“You’re welcome. You’ve never told me much about your family, Bella.” He bit into a crunchy chicken leg.

She shrugged and made a swirl in her mashed potatoes with her plastic fork. “There’s not much to tell. My daddy left when I was two years old. It took the heart right out of my mamma. She never seemed to have much spirit after that.”

He reached over and gave her shoulder a light squeeze of comfort. “She never remarried?”

“No, she stopped trusting men.”

“That’s too bad. It’s a long time to live alone.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “You ever been married?” She spooned up a bite of coleslaw.

“No.”

“That’s a long time to live alone.” She bit into her chicken.

He shrugged. “The timing was never right.” He started to say something, changed his mind and poured them each some more champagne.

“You?” He handed Bella a brimming glass.

“No.” She shook her head and sipped the champagne.

“Why?”

“Never had the desire to.”

“Never?” He tipped his head, studying her.

“Never.”

“Did your mamma leave you the amulet?” he asked, changing the subject.

“My grandmamma did. She never thought my mamma was up to the challenge.” Bella looked around. “Mamma would have loved it here. She never was much for the big city.”

Hank stretched his jean-clad legs out in front of him and motioned with his fork. “I always thought this would make a beautiful spot to build a house on.”

She looked around. “Yes, it would.”

“What kind of house would you build here, Bella?”

She squinted, studying the land. “I think I’d build a fancy log cabin with all the amenities. Logs would blend with this beautiful landscape. Dark pine on the outside, warm pine on the inside, plenty of windows to let in the light, a huge studio with a glass wall.” Caught up in the fantasy, she continued, “A bath off the bedroom. A huge walk-in closet, maybe a reading room, a guestroom and of course the standard living room and kitchen even though I’m not much for cooking.”

Smiling, she glanced over at Hank and found him watching her intently.

He set down his plate down and leaned toward her, his breath warm on her face.

Her heart began to thud in erratic thumps against her chest.

“This is my land, Bella. I know I’m not the kind of man you’re used to. I’m not rich but I’ve saved over the years and done a little investing. I’m comfortable. I’d like to build that house for you, Bella. I want you to marry me.”

She could feel her pupils dilate. Her breath caught in her throat. For a heart-pulsing second she wanted to throw herself in his arms then she remembered her mother’s words spoken like a mantra over and over again through the years until she had come to believe them. “Don’t give your heart, Bella darling, ‘cause if you do, a man will just use you and toss you away.”

She couldn’t breathe. For one mad moment, she thought she would faint from lack of oxygen. With a whoosh, she managed to pull the air into her lungs and they started to function again. She jumped to her feet, her plate turning over in a messy heap on the blanket.

Hank shot to his feet like a coiled spring.

“I can’t.” The words were no more than a whisper. She ran to the buckskin grazing on the new spring grass, grabbed the reins and jumped into the saddle.

“Bella, wait.”

Through tears gathering in her eyes she saw him take a step toward her.

She shook her head, turned the big buckskin and thumped her heels against his ribs. The horse shot forward.

When Bella reached the rise, she looked back. He stood where she’d left him. A lonely figure silhouetted against the pale blue sky.

* * * * *

Striker walked up to him. Moving in close, he whispered, “Your time’s run out.”