Last Bridge Home by Iris Johansen
He released her, hoisted himself up on the bank, and then pulled her up alongside him.
Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably as she tried to wring some of the water from the bottom of her sweater. Her gaze flew to the cottage. It was so close. Too close. They were barely halfway across the meadow. She shrugged out from under Jon’s arm and jumped to her feet. “We’ve got to get to the woods. I know a place. We’re too close here. They’ll be breaking into the cottage any minute.”
“Beth, you can’t go on. The cold—” His tone was thick with self-disgust. “Lord, I’m stupid. I thought I saw a way to clear my path and forgot you weren’t…”
She wasn’t listening. She was running across the snow-covered meadow toward the woods.
Twigs and stones lying under the blanket of snow tore at her sodden socks, but at least she could feel the blood pumping through her veins again. If only the wind would stop plastering her damp clothes to her body, she might even feel warm. Where was Jon? she wondered. They mustn’t catch him. It would be worse for him to be captured than for her. “Jon.” She looked over her shoulder. He was right behind her, she realized with relief. “Are you okay?”
“Am I—” He drew a deep breath. “I’m fine. Where the hell is the haven you’re taking me to? I hope it’s warm.”
“Are you very cold? You said you were from a desert country.” Desert country, she repeated to herself. It sounded wonderful. The sun’s hot rays baking the cold from her bones. “I don’t think it will be very warm, but they won’t be able to find us. At least, not until morning. There’s a cave in the wall of the bluff where I used to play when I was a child. I fixed it all up. I’m looking forward to showing it to Andrew. It’s right here.” She leaned against the lichen-covered stone of the bluff, trying to catch her breath. “Will you roll the boulder away from the entrance? I can’t seem to stop shivering.” It was more than shivering, she was shuddering violently. “I don’t know why I’m reacting this way. I’m much warmer now.”
“Are you?” Jon’s expression was grim as he rolled aside the heavy boulder. “Stay here for just a minute while I check your hideaway for foreign invaders.”
“According to Bardot, you should feel right at home with them.”
“Is there a flashlight inside?”
She shook her head. “No, but there’s an oil lantern and a box of matches to the left of the entrance.”
He was gone only a few minutes, and when he came back he was carrying the lantern. “Gome inside. Your provisions don’t seem to include anything to make a fire.”
“I only came here during the summer. In the winter it was too cold. I think there are two patchwork quilts.” She glanced around. “Yes, there they are. My mother helped me make the one that has the little girls wearing sunbonnets on it. I was only eight years old, and she said she was very proud of me.”
“It’s a beautiful quilt. Any mother would be proud,” Jon said gently. “Now stay here while I roll the stone back into place. Okay?”
“Okay.”
She watched him as he grappled with the enormous stone. The muscles of his back and shoulders rippled beneath the wet clinging material of his red plaid shirt. When the boulder was in place, he turned to face her.
“You’re very wet. I’m sorry there’s no fire wood.” She reached up to brush a wet lock of hair away from her cheek. “We could try to find some outside, but it would probably be useless. The snow … I hate winter. Did I tell you that?”
“Yes.” He spread one of the quilts on the ground. “Gome here, Beth.”
“Are we going to try to sleep?” She came toward him as obediently as a small child.
“Yes.” He pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it on the ground. “But first we’re going to get you warm.”
“I’m warm now. I don’t know why I’m shaking like this.”
“I do. A deadly little malady called hypo thermia.” His voice was suddenly savage. “And it’s my fault, dammit. I should never have let you jump into that water. I could have …” The breath he drew sounded like a harsh rasp. “Look Beth, I have to get you warm. If I don’t, you could go into shock and die. I know you said you couldn’t trust me, but you don’t have any choice.” He unbuttoned her blouse and unfastened her bra.
“You’ve done this before. You’re always un dressing me.”
“It appears that way, doesn’t it? I’m glad it amuses you. I hope you still think it’s funny when you’re back to normal.” He took off her wet jeans, panties, and socks.
“It doesn’t seem logical to strip a person naked to get them warm.”
Jon undressed, too, and joined her on the quilt. “It’s very logical. We’ll share body heat.” He pulled the second quilt over both of them. “But that’s not going to be enough. It’s very cold here and you’re already suffering from exposure. You’ll have to let me help you. You mustn’t fight me, Beth.”
“Of course, it wouldn’t be sensible to object when someone is trying to save you from freezing to death.”
“Stop laughing.” Jon’s tone was serious. “This is important for you to understand. I can help your body make the adjustments it needs. The human anatomy is a wonderful defensive organism, but sometimes it needs to be told what to do.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands and held her gaze with his own.
What wonderful eyes he had, she thought dreamily. Dark and brilliant and glowing with kinetic force.
“I will never trespass, nor invade your privacy but I must do this.” His naked flesh was warm against her own and the heat he was emitting surrounded her. “Now I’m going to talk to you, and I want you to listen very carefully. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He smiled. “Because soon you’re going to be warm, as warm as I am, and your body is going to work very hard to keep you warm all through the night.” His lips touched her forehead in a gossamer-light caress, as he spun a web of golden tenderness around her. “Close your eyes and relax.” He drew her closer so that her cheek nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll see that you don’t go to sleep until it’s safe for you. Just listen to me.”
Later, she wouldn’t be able to remember the words he’d spoken. The sound of his voice flowed over her, around her, lighting torches of warmth and understanding where none had been lit before. Painting pictures of sunlit meadows overflowing with flowers of exquisite beauty, beauty veiled in warm mists and the songs of summer. Everywhere she passed, the torches flamed with indescribable splendor and reached into every part of her, Ailing her with a rapture so intense she didn’t think she could bear it. She wasn’t aware when the shivering stopped or when the numbness was re placed by genuine warmth.
His voice vibrated beneath her ear and the sensation was soothing. No, he’d stopped speaking, she realized, but she could still hear him. How very curious. Oh, there was nothing to worry about, she told herself. Jon said she shouldn’t worry. He was taking care of every thing. She would just lie here and let his voice ignite the torches within her.
“Beth.” She felt a strong vibration beneath her ear. “You can go to sleep now.”
The golden webbing that had enveloped her was gone, and so was the disorientation she’d experienced earlier. She felt a pang of wild regret. Loneliness. She had never known such loneliness. “Jon …”
His lips were on her temple. “I know.”
He did know. She could still feel his empathy and understanding. “The torches.” Her voice was slurred as drowsiness claimed her. So beautiful. “Gome back.”
“I can’t, love.”
“Please.” The word was spoken as a mere breath of a sound.
“Someday.”
It was a promise, and Jon always kept his promises. She had discovered that fact about him, as well as many other wonderful things, during the past hour.
“Someday,” she echoed as she nestled her cheek against his hard shoulder. But there was something nagging at her, some
“What?”
She didn’t open her eyes. “The night An drew was born. What was in the milk?”
He gently stroked her hair back from one temple. “Nothing.”
She had guessed what his answer was going to be. “Then you shouldn’t have made me drink it. I hate warm milk.”
“I didn’t think you were ready to accept my help without a placebo.”
“I don’t know, maybe you were right.” She was far too drowsy to talk any longer. She just wanted to drift away on the wings of sleep, now that there were no more lovely, radiant torches to be lit….
She still felt warm when she opened her eyes the next morning. The cave was almost in total darkness, and the only sign of dawn was a thin wavering line of gray around the boulder hiding the entrance. Her naked breasts were pressed against Jon’s warm, solid chest, and with every breath he drew she could feel the thatch of springy hair which covered his upper torso rub against her. Was it pain, or the fiery tingle of desire that caused her nipples to distend as if in yearning invitation? She edged away in confusion. The tempo of his breathing altered and she realized he was awake.
“Beth?”
“Do you think we should leave? It must be dawn.” Her voice was breathless.
“Yes.”
She laughed shakily. “Yes, it must be dawn, or yes, we should try to leave?”
“Did I sound confused? I’m afraid my reasoning processes aren’t working too well at the moment.”
Elizabeth’s mental capabilities weren’t in any better shape than Jon’s. She couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but the heat flowing from his naked body to hers. She felt if she reached out and touched him, she would burn her hand. The rhythm of his breathing changed, harshened. She was having trouble breathing at all. “Do you think they’re still out there?”
“I have no idea, and at the moment I could care less. Beth …” He reached out and suddenly the blanket was around her waist. “Beth, I’m hurting. I think you are too. Let me love you.” His fingers touched her breasts, and she inhaled sharply. “Poor love, so full, so beautiful. I wish I could see you.” His palms gently held her breasts. “Let me help you, taste you. Let me come into you. Let me take what you need to give. I’ll show you pleasures you never dreamed existed. There are ways I—”
“Torches.” She didn’t even know she had uttered the word until she felt him stiffen against her.
His hands fell away from her breasts. His breathing was heavy and labored. “No!” He rolled away from her and curled up into a fetal position. She could feel his pain and desire and frustration as a living force in the dark ness. “No torches, dammit. Get your clothes on.”
“What?” She was jarred from her sensual haze as if she’d once again been plunged into the icy waters of the stream.
He spoke rapidly, not looking at her. “I hung our clothes on the boulder by the opening. I figured the wind might dry them. They’re probably a little damp but—”
“Why, Jon?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. “Because it’s not fair. Because what you’re feeling now could be a hangover from what I did to you last night.”
“You did nothing to me, only for me. It was telepathy, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, combined with deep hypnosis.” He stood up and walked toward the entrance. She wished the light wasn’t dim so that she could see more of him than just a shadow. Her mind had been so hazy when he’d stripped during the night, that she hadn’t even noticed his body. She had only a vague memory of tight buttocks and powerful thighs. “And you told me the group you belong to is just like the rest of us,” she said lightly. “Just ordinary small town folks.”
“Naturally increased psychic abilities are a result of mind expansion.” His tone was threaded with irony. “Needless to say, the institute was delighted, and we were immediately taught to use all our abilities. The bastards didn’t realize they’d given us the key to the cage they’d put us in.”
“All?”
He was dressing swiftly. “All. What I did for you last night was fairly simple. The monks of Tibet have been able to control their body temperatures and organic functions for centuries. Our psychic abilities were the principal reason we decided we had to escape from Said Ababa as soon as possible. We had no desire to turn into a colony of madmen.”
“Madmen?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
He crossed back to her. “Later.” He dropped her clothes on the quilt. “I’m in no mood to discuss the topic at the moment. It’s beginning to get light in here. I can see you, and I’m hurting already.”
“Can’t you stop it? The way you helped me last night?”
“It doesn’t work. I’ve tried it.” She could barely discern his bittersweet smile in the half-dark interior of the cave. “It seems you’re the cross I have to bear.”
“I don’t want you to hurt.” Elizabeth’s voice was troubled as she slowly began to dress. The material of her clothing was damp and cold against her skin. “You didn’t have to stop, you know.”
“I know, but when I make love to you, I’m going to make sure it’s me you want. I know how seductive mental joining can be. I was in side your mind sharing your emotions.” His tone was halting. “I tried to make it beautiful for you.”
“You did.”
“I can make it more beautiful. When we’re together, I can make you feel my desire, my satisfaction, as well as your own. I can let you physically feel what I feel—” He stopped and laughed harshly. “Just listen to me. With one hand I’m letting you go, and with the other I’m pulling you back. I’m no Mark Ramsey, am I?”
“No.” Jon would never be the lovable idealist Mark had been, but she knew now she didn’t want him to be. Last night when they had joined, she had discovered a beauty within him that shone as brightly as any she had found in Mark. He possessed integrity, strength, and a rigid set of values. He was also aggressive, passionate, possessive, and stub born to the point of bullheadedness. No, he wasn’t like Mark any more than the dawn resembled the sunset, but both had their own inner beauty and their own place in the scheme of things. And she knew now that Jon’s place was in her life, for as long as she lived. “No, you’re not Mark.”
He flinched as if she’d struck him.
“No, I didn’t mean—”
“You don’t have to qualify your statement. I know I have a long way to go.” He turned around and began to roll the stone away from the entrance. “But I do think we jumped a few hurdles last night. Finish getting dressed. I’ll do some reconnoitering and be right back.”
They’d jumped more than a few hurdles, Elizabeth thought as she pulled on her damp socks. They’d made a quantum leap toward a closeness she never imagined was possible. Love. She loved Jon Sandell. Freely, proudly, and with her whole heart.
She couldn’t deny that she had had apprehensions, and constantly had made comparisons between Jon and Mark. She supposed it was natural for Jon to jump to conclusions. Well, she had time to show him there would be no qualifications in her love for him, and no future comparisons to Mark.
However, she would prefer to wait until they were in a trifle more glamorous setting to stage her demonstration. She seemed destined al ways to appear at her worst when she was with Jon. First, she had been pregnant and was bulky and unwieldy with Andrew, and now she looked straggly and as stringy-haired as a veritable scarecrow.
“There’s no sign of Bardot’s men in the woods,” Jon said from the entrance of the cave. “They’re probably watching the road and the cottage, but if we skirt around the bluff and through the woods, we should make it.”
“Make it to where?” Elizabeth rose to her feet and quickly began to fold the quilts. “You have a destination in mind, I hope?”
“Serena Spaulding’s cottage. She’s your good friend, and the one time I met he
“Oh, you know Serena, all right. She’d punch the devil in the nose and then sue him for damages to her bruised knuckles.” Elizabeth frowned as she came to stand beside him outside the cave. “But I don’t want her bruising those knuckles on my behalf. Bardot can be a very nasty customer.”
“The only chance I’ll ask her to take is to lend us her car and give you some dry clothes,” Jon said soothingly.
“Won’t Bardot’s men be watching her cottage? His investigations must have turned up the fact that she’s my best friend.”
“We’ll find a way to get into her place un seen. I don’t like involving her in this mess any more than you do, but we need transportation. We have to rendezvous with Gunner tomorrow morning in Rochester.”
“That’s over two hundred miles.”
“Hence the need for wheels. I know you don’t want your friend in danger, and I promise she’ll be safe. Trust me.”
The frown vanished and a smile lit her face. “I do.”
He took half a step forward and then stopped. “Thank God.” His words were as fervent as a prayer. “It’s been one hell of a rocky road.”
“The most interesting ones usually are,” she said lightly. “And you have to admit I’ve had some Herculean obstacles to overcome. I just want to know one thing. You don’t plan to pull any other surprises out of your hat, do you?”
He frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t think so.”
“Good.” She grinned up at him. “You don’t know how relieved I am. So far I’ve been able to assimilate information on foreign intrigue, hypnosis, and telepathy. Just don’t throw any thing else at me. Deal?”
Something flickered in his face. “Beth, I…” He stopped and then smiled back at her. “Deal.”
“Why do I suspect that you have reservations?” she asked warily.
“Now who’s practicing telepathy?” He took her arm and began propelling her along the rough trail that bordered the bluff. “Let’s hurry. I want you to get some shoes. I hope Serena wears the same size.”