Susan Mallery - Surrender in Silk

The morning of her tenth day at the cabin dawned crisp and clear. Jamie pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders as she sat on the porch swing and watched the sky lighten from light gray to pale blue.

It had been another sleepless night. One more occupational hazard. Assignments usually required her to be up and moving after midnight. While the rest of the world slowed down, those in the shadows came to life. Unfortunately years of living on a different schedule had played havoc with her body clock.

She tried to get to sleep at a reasonable hour, only to wake up sometime after midnight to face the ghosts of the past. She would spend the lonely hours before dawn pacing or thinking or trying not to think, then she catnapped in the late morning or early afternoon.

But this morning she didn’t feel like returning to bed. The skin on the back of her neck prickled. As Zach had instructed after that first assignment in the Central American jungle, she’d learned to pay attention to her premonitions. She knew something was going to happen today. What she didn’t know was if that something was going to be good or bad.

She rose to her feet and walked inside. After picking up the few items she’d left scattered around the living room, she made her bed, showered and put on clean jeans and a sweatshirt. For the first time since she’d arrived ten days before, she used the coffee maker instead of settling for instant. Then she checked supplies. With two people eating, they had enough to last about four weeks. They would be fine, even if the man at the car-rental agency had been wrong and there was a late-season snowstorm.

When everything was prepared, Jamie took a mug of freshly brewed coffee onto the porch. She curled up in a corner of the swing, facing the two-mile-long driveway that led to the main highway and settled in to wait.

She knew how to slow her breathing and still the pounding of her heart. She knew how to flex and stretch her muscles so they wouldn’t cramp. She could hide in brush for ten hours, then be up and running without even a twitch to slow her down. She knew how to stay alert for days.

She sat in the morning sunshine for nearly two hours. Her coffee was long gone, but she didn’t bother with a second cup. Instead, she watched and listened. Then she heard it. The slow whine of a truck climbing the steep driveway. The engine strained against the incline, the vehicle bounced through potholes and over rocks and still it moved closer. Despite her calming breaths and relaxation techniques, her body tensed.

Zach had come home.

Jamie uncurled herself from her position and walked to the edge of the porch. Even as she told herself everything was going to be fine, her heart pounded in her chest. She could feel her palms sweating. She would rather face an army of enemy soldiers than explain to Zach why she was here, but it was already too late for retreat. The truck slowly came into view.

She stared straight ahead. The sunlight reflected off the windshield, so she couldn’t see who was inside. Then the truck moved into shadow. The driver was unfamiliar-Zach must have hired him in town. She turned her attention to the passenger, who had already seen her. Their gazes locked. Nothing registered on his face, not surprise, not anger, certainly not a welcoming smile.

She hid her apprehension behind a mask of her own. As the driver stopped the truck, Jamie stepped off the porch. The older man, maybe in his midfifties, got out and retrieved two duffel bags from the truck bed, then tossed them on the ground.

“Morning,” he said, and gave her a quick nod.

“Good morning.” Jamie smiled.

Her smile faded as Zach stepped out of the cab. He moved slowly, like an old man. The thick down jacket couldn’t conceal his thinness or the way he had to hang on to the truck door to keep his balance. He reached back inside, fumbled with something, then seemed to steady. Jamie’s breath caught in her throat when she realized he was using a cane.

It made sense. His bruises went down to the bone. He was still recovering. But seeing such a proud man broken in body, if not in spirit, tore her heart out. She wanted to go to him and hold him close. She wanted to comfort him and promise she would make it all right. But she did none of those things. Zach was like a wounded wild animal. He would lash out at anyone who tried to get too close. Especially her.

“You all right?” the driver asked.

Zach took a lurching step and nodded. “Thanks, Charlie.”

“No problem.”

The older man got back into his truck and started the engine. Seconds later he’d turned around and headed for the highway. When the sound of the engine had faded, she and Zach were alone.

He took another step, then cursed when his left leg buckled. Before she could move toward him, he found his balance and straightened. Then he glared at her. “Why aren’t you on assignment?”

“I quit the agency.”

She studied his dark eyes and grim mouth. He didn’t even flicker a lash. She might as well have told him it was clear and sunny today.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his tone surly.

They were standing maybe fifteen feet apart. Birds chirped in the trees. The sun beat down. Yet nothing about this moment was real to her. Why was she here? Hadn’t she been asking herself the same question for the past ten days? She still didn’t have a great answer.

She was here because she wanted to find balance. She wanted to know if the past was real. Why had Zach been the only man to make her feel those things? She wanted to know if he’d been right when he’d told her there was no going back. There was a way in; there had to be a way out. Zach had taught her everything else; surely he could teach her that.

But he wouldn’t understand any of those statements, so in the end she settled for another kind of truth. An easy truth. “I wanted to make sure you were going to be all right. I didn’t risk my life in the desert to save your sorry butt just to have you collapse and die up here.”

He stared at her. “You expect me to believe that?” he asked.

“I can’t help what you believe. I’m surprised they let you out of the hospital so soon.”

“They didn’t have a choice.”

She could imagine that scene. No doubt the doctor had thrown her hands in the air and told Zach if he wanted to kill himself, she couldn’t stop him.

“You always had more guts than sense when it came to taking care of yourself,” she said, and walked toward him. As she reached for his duffel bags, his neutral expression turned to a glare.

“I don’t need your help. I don’t know what you’re doing here, Jamie, but whatever it is, I don’t want any part of it.”

His words stung. She looked from him to his bags, nodded once, then returned to the porch. If he wanted to do it himself, let him. He took one tentative step, then another. After a minute or so, he was moving at a speed close to a slow walk. It was painful to watch him. As she turned away to go inside, she heard a thunk, followed by a low curse. She spun back.

He’d slipped on a patch of wet ground. Zach sprawled on his belly in the dirt. She moved toward him. He pushed up into a sitting position.

“I told you to get the hell out of my life,” he growled. “You were supposed to be a quick study, but you’re having trouble understanding me. I don’t want you here.”

Dark hair hung nearly to his eyes. Lines of pain bracketed his mouth. Yet he would rather die of exposure than let her help him. All the old feelings of inadequacy returned.

She glanced at her rented four-wheel-drive vehicle. It would be easy enough to grab her stuff and leave. Her apartment was waiting in San Francisco.

“I don’t need this,” she muttered, and walked inside.

She headed for her bedroom, then paused halfway across the living room. No. She’d come here for a purpose. Zach was trying to scare her off because…well, she wasn’t sure why. Seven years ago, he’d been the one to dump her. If anyone had a right to be angry, she did. What was he so furious about?

Now it was her turn to swear. He needed her. Physically he couldn’t take care of himself. And like it or not, she needed him.

Jamie paced inside for nearly thirty minutes. She glanced out the window, but Zach hadn’t moved. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. She went out and walked toward him.

“Dammit, woman, can’t you understand what I’m saying? I don’t want you here. I don’t want your help.”

“Uh-huh.” She picked up the duffel bags and carried them inside.

When she returned for him, he really started in on her. An assortment of curses in an assortment of languages. She ignored them all and reached for his arms. Before she could get hold of him, he switched to Turkish and accused her of being the result of a union between a goatherder and his favorite charge.

Jamie stared at him for a second, then started to laugh. “A goatherder?” she asked. “Is that as original as you can get?”

He stared up at her. Something flickered in his dark eyes. A glint of humor and maybe something close to respect. She didn’t analyze it. Instead, she took courage where she could find it and figured she would wing it the rest of the time.

“I don’t know a lot of Turkish,” he said. “So it was either the goatherder or a snake charmer.”

She shuddered. “I still hate snakes.”

“I know.”

They both smiled, and the tension between them lessened. With a flash of insight, she realized this was what had been missing in her life. Pleasant human contact. Zach hadn’t had enough, either, she knew. The job might have its humorous moments, but for the most part it was intense and grim. Even their week together hadn’t allowed them to laugh. There had been too much passion.