Chapter 33
Spence handed Hetty the glass he’d poured for her before he sat down beside her on the back deck. Then he held up his own glass full of the sparkling champagne for a toast.
“Here’s to progress,” he said.
She grinned at him as she clinked her glass against his, and he had the thought that he’d never seen so many smiles from Hetty Amos as he had since she’d essentially moved in here.
He took a certain pride in that, even as he was aware that sometimes his face ached from all the unaccustomed smiling he himself was doing all the time.
But her glee today was because she was off not only the loathed crutches, but all pain medications, which would allow her to fly again. Hence the champagne celebration.
The sun was dropping, setting as much as it ever did here this time of year. But soon it would be below the tops of the old, tall trees and they would have at least the appearance of deep twilight, especially with no moon present. He liked the look of it, from this spot.
They sat in silence for a while, soaking up the quiet as they sipped at the bubbly he’d picked up while she’d been in her rehab session.
It had been a little embarrassing when the clerk, the rather nosy wife of one of the local town council members, had teased him about having something romantic to celebrate, but he’d just smiled and let her think whatever she’d wanted.
Because it’s true.
And the fact that he was drinking this with Hetty still made his pulse rate kick up a notch.
He’d been so convinced it would never happen, and if it had taken a near tragedy to do it, then so be it.
She’d survived, there’d been no further attacks, and the circumstances had forced them to face what they’d hidden all these years.
What was now a living, growing thing between them.
Spence could practically feel the energy radiating from her as she sipped her champagne. She was recovering rapidly now, and he knew she was chomping at the bit to get back in the air. So he made sure he was watching her face when he gave her the last bit of news.
“The replacement glass came in.”
She lit up, just as he’d expected. “Finally!”
He shrugged. “Alaska. Nothing gets here fast.” Especially not commonly needed airplane parts.
“How long will it take Chuck to—”
“He promised he’d have it installed by this afternoon,” he interrupted with a grin.
Hetty let out a whoop. “Then all I need is the doctor’s okay.”
He clinked his glass against hers again. “Then we’ll take it for a ride, just to do it.”
“Yes,” she said, lingering on the word in a way that warmed him. And he liked even more that she didn’t question the “we” part of his statement. Like she assumed, of course they would do it together.
“I’ll check with Lakin to get a time that won’t interfere with anything.”
Her joy seemed to ebb a little. “I know this must have really messed up the scheduling—”
“Everybody at RTA is so glad you’re okay, nobody cares about a little juggling,” he said firmly. “Dad and Uncle Will jumped in, and got almost everything covered. Oh, and when we had to change the Freemont trip, the only thing they wanted to know was if you were going to be all right.”
She smiled, and blinked a couple of times, as if tearing up a little. “They’re sweet.” She swallowed visibly. “You’re sweet, too.”
“Took you long enough,” he said with a wide grin.
“Look who’s talking,” she shot back, and then they were both laughing.
They sat enjoying the quiet. He loved that about her, too, that she had no problem just sitting and soaking it in. The sight of the various creatures, the scents of summer, the lack of human-generated noise, created the essence of this very special place that was in their blood, their bones.
It was a while before she spoke. “Do you have any close neighbors up the hill through the trees?” She was gesturing toward the thick forest just past the small clearing behind the house.
“Nope. Nearest one’s nearly a mile away, and he’s at about the same level, just further west.”
“But you get hikers and climbers going through?”
His brow furrowed. “Not usually. Nothing up here to draw them, not when there are so many other destination-type trails.”
She went silent then, and as he looked at her, she bit the luscious lower lip of hers, making him want to kiss away whatever had her thinking…
whatever she was thinking. Then, belatedly, a possible reason for her questions hit him and his mood shifted like an iceberg breaking off a glacier.
But he kept his question simple, not wanting to unnecessarily plant an idea that might destroy this mood.
“Why do you ask?”
“I…saw someone up there—” she nodded toward the trees “—when I first came out here. But he—or she, I couldn’t tell—vanished behind that big tree the eagles like to use as a lookout.”
Spence felt a chill as cold as an Alaska winter sweep through him. It took everything he had in him not to snap at her to get inside, out of sight. Instead, he asked casually, “So you didn’t get a look at whoever it was? Maybe it was the guy from what passes for ‘next door’ up here.”
“No,” she said. “It was just a flicker of movement. I could only tell that it was a person, not an animal.”
He tried to rein in his gut reaction. “So it wasn’t Sasquatch, huh?”
She laughed and suddenly sounded relaxed. “No. Not nearly tall enough.”
He held out a hand to her. “Come on. I need to do something.”
She looked puzzled, but took his hand. She didn’t really need it anymore, her leg was cooperating, but he wanted to be sure he got her inside.
Once they were in, he closed and locked the door to the deck.
When he turned around, Hetty was staring at him and he knew what he’d done had registered.
And he saw the moment in her alert green eyes when she understood.
“You think it’s him,” she said.
“I don’t know. But I’m not taking the chance it is.” He walked over to the rack on the wall and took down his Kimber rifle.
“Spence, no!”
He checked the load and grabbed a box of extra rounds from the lower cabinet—for the first time really wishing he’d gone with the .
300 Winchester Magnum instead of the standard .
308—before he turned around to face her.
This was Hetty. He loved her, and he would not lie to her.
She wouldn’t tolerate it anyway, and he wasn’t about to risk this new precious thing in his life.
“I need you to stay inside, Hetty. I’m just going to go look around.”
“You can’t go out there alone, what if it is him?” She nearly yelped it.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Like I was?” The difference was that he was on guard now, and armed, but before he could say anything, she was reaching for her jacket. “I’m not some helpless female who can’t—”
“I know you’re not,” he said. “And you’re doing great, better every day, but you’re not to the point where you can deal with creeping around out there without giving yourself away.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue with him.
But then she stopped, and he saw the reality, the truth, of what he’d said register.
She let out a disgusted sigh. And Spence had the feeling this would not be the last time he’d be glad that reality beat out emotion in her mind. She was special, his Hetty was.
“I hate it that you’re right,” she muttered. “But I’d only be a hindrance out there.”
“Call my folks,” he said, more to give her something to do than because he thought this might really be something. “Just tell them you saw something and I’m checking on it, so Dad will be on standby.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “If I know your father, he’ll be on his way here by the time I get the second sentence out.”
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted as he laughed at the pure truth in her words. “You obviously do know him.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek before saying, “Which is a good thing. It’ll make our life easier.”
He saw in her eyes that she’d registered what he’d meant. Definitely our life, together.
She walked, still noticeably favoring her left leg, which reinforced his certainty that he was right to make her stay here, over to the counter and grabbed up the two RTA walkie-talkies that sat there.
“Every five minutes,” she said in a flat, no-compromising tone.
“Make it ten,” he bartered back. “And no voice, if possible. I might need the silence. Two clicks is ‘all’s okay.’ Three is ‘tell Dad to hurry.’”
He said the last words jokingly, but Hetty didn’t take them that way. He’d never seen a more solemn gaze from her, even when she’d been so hurt. He registered the magnitude of that, wanted to kiss her for it, but there was no time.
“Be careful,” she said, and it sounded as if she’d had to force the words out past a lump like the one he felt in his own throat.
“More now than ever,” he promised. And meant it. But the bigger promise, made only to himself, but the one he had to keep right now, was that he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
Still, as he went quietly out the door, he found himself hoping to run into Sasquatch instead of a hitman.