Swept Away (13 page)

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Probably, but I think after tonight, this is the sort of thing we should talk about.”

“Hmm,” she said, rubbing her hands up his arms. “I suppose you did earn some explanations.”

He kissed her forehead. “I worked hard. I may have pulled my quadriceps.”

Josie laughed as she moved to his side and wrapped her arm around his. Leaning into him, she agreed, “That you did, and I am very grateful.” She brushed her cheek against his arm.  “Come on, let’s go back. I’ll make us some cocoa and we’ll talk.”

Once they were back in the cottage and settled on the couch with their mugs of hot chocolate, Josie slowly sipped hers. Tucker chugged his and set his mug on the table. Josie took one last sip, then set hers on the table next to his. She leaned against the arm of the couch with her feet propped in front of her, facing him. Taking her legs and pulling them across his lap, he asked, “What’s in the graveyard?”

“It’s a cemetery. Graveyards are by churches.”

“Tomato, tomahto. What’s the attraction?”

“It’s peaceful.”

“Why go at night?”

“Again, it’s peaceful.”

Tucker shook his head as he rubbed the smooth flesh of her knee with his thumb. “Come on, Josie. Enough of the peaceful crap. It’s weird. You can’t tell me going to a grave—cemetery in the middle of the night isn’t strange.”

  “Fine. I’ll tell you, but I warn you, it’s going to sound like I’m off my rocker.”

“It can’t be much crazier, unless you’re sacrificing little animals. You’re not—“

“Of course not.” Josie slapped his arm and laughed at him. “Okay, so there may be crazier things than the truth.”

“Which is….”

“I…I have a guardian, and I hear her best in the cemetery. And I went tonight because I wanted to pray for your protection and for Holly—that her soul has found peace. I believe, for you to have peace, she must move on and find her place in the afterlife.”

Tucker closed his eyes. That was the sweetest, most bizarre explanation for insane behavior she could have given.   He supposed he shouldn’t be shocked. Murray and Hetty warned him. And really, was it that odd?  He had a buddy in Iraq who had a St. Christopher’s medallion he swore channeled his prayers to Heaven. And Ash kissed his cross before every mission. So what if his girlfriend had a guardian angel? That was normal-ish, right? But it talks? Tucker looked at her. “Talks? It speaks to you?”

“Not in words to my ears. In understanding…to my heart.”

“What does she tell you?”

“It’s not like a conversation. I go with what is troubling me, and it’s like understanding flows through me.  Sort of like an epiphany, only I know it’s my guardian who helps me understand. I know she’s watching out for me.”

“So, she’s a she. Does she have a name?”

“It’s Maggie.”

“Don’t tell me you’re seeing Mad Mags?

“You’ve heard of her? Though, to call her mad is a little rude.”

“It’s not rude, she’s not—“ He stopped himself before he denied she was real. He’d pushed Josie to be honest with him. What kind of ass would he be if he didn’t at least pretend to be taking her seriously? She was obviously a believer. What he thought didn’t matter, though the irony of him following Mags’s ghost to the island and finding a girl who seemed to be obsessed with her spirit didn’t escape him.

“You think I’m nuts,” Josie said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, I don’t.”

“Do you believe Mags talks to me?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You do not.” Josie gave him a stern look. “You think I’m a flake.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I said I believe you.”

“You’re lying.”

Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her against him, holding her tight. “Just because I’m a skeptical asshole doesn’t mean I don’t believe you believe. And I certainly don’t think you’re crazy, or flaky.”

Josie chewed her lip as she studied him. “I suppose you’re right. You don’t believe in anything, much less have faith in things you can’t control.”

“Touché.”

“I’m not trying to spar with you.”

Running his hands into her hair, he snuggled her close to him. “It was just a figure of speech. But listen,” he said as his hands combed through her silky strands, relaxing her body against his. “I don’t like you out wandering in the dark, no matter how good the cause. Stay here or wake me up to go with you.”

“I’ve been doing it—“

“Shh. Please?”

“You think you’re jinxed.”

“I never said—“

“You’re not going to lose me, Tucker. We were meant to be together. You may not have faith, but I do.”

He kissed her forehead, allowing his lips to linger against the warmth of her skin. “Look, you mean more to me than I can understand, much less explain. I don’t care if you have a whole flock of guardian angels, I don’t want you out there alone.”

“She’s not an angel. Angels are a different species than humans. Humans can’t be angels and angels can’t be guardians.”

“Okay, so what exactly is a guardian?”

“It’s a human who has crossed over, but while they were still on this plane, they not only faced evil, but beat it.”

“What evil did Maggie beat?” Tucker asked, genuine curiosity grabbing him. He hoped she stabbed her pedophile husband through his black heart.

“She saved countless women from suffering a fate like her own. She was kidnapped as a little girl, you know?”

“I heard that. He kept her as his wife until she went crazy?”

“She only played crazy. If he thought she was touched in the head, he feared her. She cooked his cat, but she didn’t kill it. The poor thing must have gotten into some poison. But Mags saw her chance to make him seriously fear her. I mean branding her own forehead and chopping off her toe didn’t stop him from putting his disgusting hands on her. But that cat on a platter? That freaked him out good. He built her the little house in the woods after that. He couldn’t sleep with her in the house anymore.”

“You mean the woods you showed me, where we…” His grin was ornery and full of suggestion.

“Yes, that one. That was Maggie’s secret home. Maggie would hang shells on the trees, and women in trouble would just know to follow them. She’d help them hide until a friendly captain would help shuttle them to safety.”

“Good lord, how many troubled women were on this island?”

“It was a pirate haven. Kidnapping women was no different than stealing cargo. It was common.”

“And Mags saved them?”

Josie nodded. “She did. She could have saved herself, but instead, she saved others.”

“Thus making her a guardian.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m glad she’s looking out for you.”

“She’s looking out for us. She led you to me that night by the pond. We are meant for each other. That night bound us together.”

Tucker nodded. If she believed, he’d not argue.

She snuggled against him, her breath warm against his neck. “You’re a sweet man to humor me.”

“I’m not. I’m just listening.”

“You’re a horrible liar. A sweet, horrible liar.”

Tucker chuckled. “Okay, so I have a hard time believing a guardian angel was in on the premarital sex plan.”

Josie looked up at him, one brow lifted high, a smirk on her face. “Man invented marriage. You’re stuck with me, Tucker Boone. For better or worse.”

Tucker and Josie’s life took on a comfortable rhythm. Days and weeks passed with the same comfortable pattern. Work, play, and love. Tucker couldn’t remember a time when his life was so uneventful, yet so perfect. For once in his life, he felt content. Happy.

They were hanging out on her couch, watching a
Die Hard
movie Josie bought him—for his toleration of all her old movies. Dressed in yoga pants and a cotton t-shirt so soft it felt like silk, Josie snuggled into the crook of Tucker’s arm holding a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “Can you believe I’ve never seen this movie? Mother abhorred violence. Hah.”

“That’s funny, why?”

Josie bit the side of her jaw; her hands pressed into the sides of the popcorn bowl. She shrugged.

Tucker’s hands moved over her shoulders, down her back. “Maybe you shouldn’t watch it then. I mean it’s a good movie, but I can think of better ways to reward me for all the black and white movies.”

Josie’s eyebrow popped up. “There is?”

“Besides,” he said as he took the popcorn from her and set it on the floor. “You know what this outfit does to me.”

“You said that about the sundress, and the jeans….oh, and the paint splattered cut-offs.”

Nibbling on the hollow of her neck, he gently pushed her back onto the couch. “So, you’re starting to see the pattern.”

Josie laughed, exposing more of her throat as she tilted her head against the couch. “What pattern?” she asked.

“If it’s on your body, it’s teasing me.”

Framing his face with her hands, she forced him to look at her. “You’re something else, you know?”

Looking down at her, he tried to think of the right words. The kind of words poets would use to describe perfection, but all he could come up with was how damned lucky he was.

Outside, a sudden gust of wind made the little house sway on its raised foundation.

Lightning flashed and rain beat against the tin roof and echoed off the glass panes. Josie glanced over her shoulder out the window. Her jaw clenched and her body went rigid.

“It’s just a storm. It’ll pass.”

Josie nodded, her face flush, her hands turning cool against his skin. She nodded and licked dry lips.

Kissing her, he tried his best to distract her from the whistling wind and sudden pounding rain. Her body was taut under him as she wriggled away from his kisses. Brushing his lips across the soft skin under her ear, he whispered, “Relax, Josie. It’s just a storm...”

“Please don’t,” she said as large tears rolled down her cheek.

He wiped the tear away. “It’s all right. It’s just rain.” Before he could say another word, lightning clapped outside. The tiny cottage shook with the force of the strike and the wind whistled through every crack and window. Josie’s body trembled beneath him, so he held her closer. Tucking her body into his, he tried to kiss her, but she screamed. Pushing against his chest, she cried, “Don’t touch me. Please, don’t touch me.”

Confused, he let her go and she rolled off the couch, running for the door. When he caught her by the arm, she turned on him with wild strikes, beating on him with her free hand. He didn’t want to hurt her, but couldn’t let her leave. He’d seen this sort of panic before plenty of times. He once knew a Vietnam vet who went bat-shit crazy when there were fireworks.

As he moved to hold the door closed, she struck him in the face, her nails digging into his cheek and leaving a trail of blood. Shoving at him, she grabbed for the door handle again, screaming for him to let her go.

Fear coursed through every vein. Grabbing her in a bear hug that trapped her arms against her sides, he held her. Her head whipped, and she kicked at him, but he was far too powerful for her to fight for long. He held her until her wails turned to a calmer sob. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to the couch, cradling her like one would a child.  As he smoothed the hair that came loose during the struggle, his hands shook. Someone, or something hurt her. More than a broken heart or hurt feelings. Tears stung his eyes as he asked quietly, “Who hurt you, Josie?”

She shook her head. As her tears gave way to exhausted sleep, he lifted her, carried her to bed and tucked her in. He kissed her forehead and switched off the light.

Kneeling by the bed, he asked, “What is it, Josie?”

Sniffling and burying her head into her pillow, she said quietly, “Toby.”

His heart stopped. “Who’s Toby?”

Josie sighed in her sleep. He shook her gently. “Josie? Why did you say Toby?”

“Mmm,” she said as she curled under the blanket. “I couldn’t save Toby.”

“Save Toby from what? Who’s Toby?”

She never answered, and as much as he wanted to know exactly what she was talking about, he couldn’t risk waking her now and causing another breakdown.

Sitting beside her bed, he ran a hand through his hair and thought of a dog. His sister’s dog. “Oh Jesus, please don’t let her be Maddy.” He sat there a long time, listening to her breathe.

He loved her. More than anything he’d ever loved in his life. If she was Maddy, could he walk away? Give up loving her to be her brother? The thought made him sick to his stomach.

But she couldn’t be. It was ridiculous. Josie was right—he had no faith in anything. She was Josie, just like she said…just like Murray said. Paranoia was getting the best of him. There were plenty of people named Toby. Just because Maddy had a dog named Toby didn’t mean there was a connection. It was the dream that was freaking him out. Night after night, Maddy haunted him, prodding him to help her. He’d tried. He’d done all he could. All but check out the obvious lead. His stomach felt queasy as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. The picture of him and Josie on the beach. They were perfect together. Before he lost his nerve, he hit send forwarding the picture to his mother asking her to take the picture to Gloria to see if this woman was Maddy.

His phone buzzed immediately. Walking to the kitchen, he answered.

His mother pounced. “You seem awfully cozy in that picture. Please, God, don’t tell me you’re having sex with this girl.”

He didn’t answer. Images of Josie under him filled his head.

“Oh, Tucker. What have you done?”

“She can’t be Maddy. I’m just ruling out the possibility.”

“And what if she is?”

Tucker closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “She’s not. I’m just ruling it out.”

His mom let out a long sigh. “Let me check with Gloria. Until then? Keep your damned pants on.”

Tucker hung up the phone and tossed it on the table. Walking softly to her room, he leaned against the doorframe. With the clouds moving west, the moon shined through the window, casting a shadowy glow across her face. As he stood there, certain she was the most perfect, wonderful thing he’d ever find in his life, he suddenly wished he’d never mentioned her to his mother.