Home to Whiskey Creek
“I...don’t think so,” she admitted.
“Don’t cry,” he said. “I won’t leave you again. I’ll stay here all night if necessary, okay, Addy?”
She hadn’t realized her emotions were that apparent. She wished she could maintain a stiff upper lip, at least until she got home and could fall apart in private. But she had no more reserves of any kind.
Fortunately, the gentleness in his voice and the commitment behind those words made her feel as if he’d wrapped a warm blanket around her shoulders. “I—I appreciate that,” she stammered, and meant it.
“I’m going to make a loop. All you have to do is slip it over your head and down under your butt. Can you do that?”
She was still conscious. She had to be capable of doing that much. “I’ll try.”
It was now completely dark. She couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, let alone the end of a rope coming toward her, but he had a flashlight that illuminated the area above her head. “Do you see it?”
“Yes,” she responded when it nearly hit her in the face.
“Great. That’s the first step. Put it on. I’ll wrap this end around a tree so I can keep from falling in with you if I lose my footing. Then I’ll start bringing you up.”
He hadn’t asked how much she weighed, how her size compared to his. He was a guy; he expected to be bigger. But not all guys were. At six feet, she was taller than most women and a good number of men, too. Although she’d always been thin, she wasn’t convinced he’d have the strength to raise her.
Should she tell him the job might be more difficult than he expected and risk having him decide to go for help instead?
No. She couldn’t wait another second. Maybe he’d drop her on the ascent, but if this was her only hope of getting out now, she was taking that chance.
After wiping her tears, she did as he instructed. “Ready.”
“That’s what I want to hear. See? Everything will be fine. All I need you to do is keep the rope under your bottom. Can you do that?”
She didn’t have any choice, not if she wanted out. “Yes.”
“Perfect. Here we go.”
The rope drew so taut it cut into her thighs, but nothing happened.
Terror ripped through her. The task was too much for him, just as she’d feared! She stifled a whimper, preparing for the moment when he’d admit defeat. But then he began to reel her toward him, inch by painstaking inch.
Dangling in midair, completely dependent on a stranger she couldn’t even see, was frightening. But he was trying to help, and that was better than being alone in the mine. Anything was better than being alone.
When at last she reached the opening, she couldn’t see a lot more than she could in the shaft, but the fresh air sweeping over her confirmed that she was no longer inside the mine.
I’m free. She choked on a sob. She didn’t have the strength to crawl over the lip, but he grabbed her arms and hauled her out before sinking down next to her.
“There...you...go,” he said, as if her problems were over. But, in some ways, the mine still held her captive, and she was afraid that would always be true.
Heedless of the gravel and dirt, she rolled onto her back so she could stare up at the starry sky. “Thank you.”
He propped himself up beside her. She could hear his movements but couldn’t make out more than a dark figure. “I’m glad I heard you. How badly are you hurt?” he asked.
It was cold, colder than inside the mine, thanks to the wind, but she didn’t care. “I’m n-not sure.”
“Anything broken?”
Relieved that he was giving her a chance to recover before waving that flashlight in her face, she put her arm over her eyes in case he angled it at her before she was ready. “I don’t think so. I’m just...rattled and b-banged up.”
“What happened?” He seemed to have caught his breath. “How’d you wind up in the mine?”
You tell anyone about graduation and I’ll kill you. I’ll stab the old lady, too. Do you understand? No one wants to hear it. It’s old news. And in case you’ve been gone so long you haven’t heard, Cody’s dad is mayor now. Going to the police won’t get you anywhere. Consider this a little...FYI.
How much did she dare tell before she was asking for more trouble? She couldn’t say she’d fallen into the mine and expect to be believed. Once he could see her clearly, he’d notice that she was in her underwear and her eye was swollen almost shut. The marks from the rope would be another giveaway.
But she couldn’t be honest, or the man who’d done this might think she was blabbing, exactly as he feared.
“I, uh, s-sleepwalk sometimes.” It was an obvious lie, one that would most likely be interpreted as a refusal to answer, but that seemed her only option.
“You...sleepwalk?” When he raised the flashlight, she tried to cover herself. Her pink Victoria’s Secret tee fit tight and short, and her panties were barely a scrap of fabric, but there wasn’t much she could do about her nightwear at this point.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem to focus on her state of undress. He was too surprised by the condition of her face. She knew it was her injuries that had caught his attention when he turned her chin toward him so he could have a better look. “Sleepwalking, my ass.”
“I, uh, hit my face when I fell.”
“Right.” The sarcasm that dripped from that word screamed bullshit. “Why are you lying, Addy? Do you know the person who did this to you? Is that it?”
Not quite the way he thought....
“Was it your husband or boyfriend or...lover?”
“No. I’m not m-married.” Thank God! She had been once, but for such a brief period it wasn’t even worth counting. Saying “I do” to Clyde Kingsdale had been a bad fit from the beginning. Fortunately, she’d realized her mistake almost immediately.
“You have to be protecting someone,” he said. “You don’t need to tell me. But I hope you’ll tell the police.”
Unable to tolerate the brightness of his flashlight, she jerked her chin away. “There’s no reason to include the police. I— It was my own stupid mistake.”
He didn’t shine the light in her face again. He set it aside so he could help her pull on his sweatshirt. The soft fleece warmed her but not enough to stop the shivering. “Where do you live?”
“Whiskey Creek. At the moment,” she added because she hadn’t yet come to terms with the fact that, depending on what she convinced Gran to do, she might need to stay longer than the few months she was planning.
“Hey! I’m from Whiskey Creek, too,” he said with obvious surprise. “What’s your last name?”
“Davies.”
“Have we met?”
How could she tell? What she’d seen of him so far had been dark and indistinct. He was tall and muscular; she’d gathered that much from his general shape. He was strong, too, or he couldn’t have lifted her out. But that was all she knew. She couldn’t even see the color of his hair.
“Maybe,” she said. “Who are you?” Chances were good she’d recognize the name. Gran owned Just Like Mom’s, one of the more popular restaurants in the area, and she used to help out there.
She’d anticipated some degree of familiarity, but the name came as a shock.
“Noah Rackham.”
She said nothing, could say nothing. It felt as if he’d just punched her in the stomach.
“My father used to own the tractor sales and rental place a few miles out of town,” he explained to provide her with a frame of reference.
Fresh adrenaline made it possible for her to scramble to her feet, despite the pain the movement caused her scraped and bruised body. “Cody’s brother?” She had the urge to rip off the sweatshirt he’d given her.
Noah stood, too. “That’s right. You knew him?”
He sounded pleased, excited. She might have laughed, except she was afraid that if she ever got started she’d end up in a padded cell. Of all the people who could’ve come by and offered her aid, it had to be Cody’s fraternal twin. There wasn’t a greater irony than that.
“You and Cody were friends?” he prompted, trying to interpret her reaction.
She was glad she couldn’t see his face. That would be like meeting a ghost, especially here, at the mine. “Not really,” she said. “I was behind the t-two of you in sch-school, but...I remember him.”
She’d never be able to forget him, but it wasn’t because they’d been friends. Not only had Cody raped her, he’d talked some of his baseball buddies into joining the fun. And, when he came back after the others were gone, she’d done what she had to in order to get away.
3
Noah didn’t know what to make of Addy. Although she claimed they’d gone to the same high school, he didn’t remember her. He didn’t recognize her from around town, either. Of course, that could be due to the condition of her face. Someone had done quite a number on it.
While he drove to the accompaniment of a classic rock station, she curled up, as much as a tall woman could curl up while wearing a seat belt, against the passenger door. He’d told her three times she could lie in the seat, knew she’d be more comfortable if she would. But she acted as if she didn’t want to get too close to him. She went stiff whenever he touched her, which hadn’t made it any easier to wheel her out to the road or help her into the truck. The whole process had taken a couple of hours.
“Which hospital?” he asked.
She lifted her head. “Excuse me?”
He pulled his gaze away from the headlights flowing toward them on the other side of the road. “Which hospital should I take you to? I have a first-aid kit, but that won’t be enough.”
“I’m not going to the hospital.”
He felt his eyebrows notch up. “But...you’re hurt, and you’re still shaking even though it has to be a hundred degrees in here.” He’d been slightly chilled when he got in, too, but thanks to the heat blasting through his vents, he was sweltering now. “I really think you should be checked out.”
“Great idea. And what will I tell them?”
Her tone indicated it was a rhetorical question, but he answered, anyway. “How about the truth?”
Her head bumped against the door. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not doing yourself any favors, you know. If you go back to the bastard who did this, he could do it again. And maybe next time there won’t be anyone around to help you.” She was lucky he’d heard her. What if he hadn’t gone riding today? Or chosen a different location? It was only when he was feeling particularly nostalgic or really missing Cody that he took their favorite trail.
“A repeat performance is precisely what I’m hoping to avoid.”
He turned down the volume on “We Will Rock You” by Queen. “Meaning what? You think he’ll come after you if you go to the authorities?”
She raised one hand. “Look, I’m grateful for your help but...will you let it go?”
Shouldn’t he insist she seek medical assistance? “You need to document your injuries. Then, if you change your mind, you can file a report later and have proof to go with it.”
“I’ll pass, but thanks,” she muttered.
“If you decide to press charges, you’ll need pictures.”
“I won’t be pressing charges.”
Obviously, she was covering for someone. No woman wound up stranded at the bottom of a mine shaft in her underwear, in the middle of the night without a little help getting there. “I wish you’d see a doctor.”
“I’ll do it later if I have to.”
“Why not now, when you need it?”
“If you drive me to a hospital I’ll walk out. Please, take me home. Or if that’s too much trouble, drop me at a pay phone so I can call someone else.”
“I’m happy to drive you. It’s just...” Did he have any right to keep pushing? No. He didn’t even know this woman. “Never mind. We’ll do whatever you want.” She wasn’t his problem. But telling himself that didn’t make it any easier. He hated to see whoever had attacked her get away with it.
“Thank you.”
She’d spoken so low he could barely hear her response, but she’d softened, or seemed to have softened, and that tempted him to dive back into the same argument. “So...where’s home?” he asked, fighting the impulse.
Her eyes had drifted shut. He could see her profile in the light of his instrument panel, thought she might be pretty without the swelling and abrasions. Lord knew she had nice legs....
“Mildred’s place on Mulberry Street.”
“You’re staying with Milly?”
The widow who owned Just Like Mom’s was one of his favorite people; he’d had no idea this woman might be associated with her. She’d said her name was Davies, but that was a common enough name, and Milly had lived alone for so long he hadn’t connected them.
“For the time being.”
He gave the truck enough gas to pass the car ahead. “Are you related to Milly, or—”
“I’m her granddaughter.”
The vision of a tall, gangly, flat-chested blonde with more hair on her head than any two people popped into his mind. She’d come to all the varsity baseball games. She’d even walked up to him once, after he’d hit a home run, and stammered her congratulations.
Could this woman be that shy girl?
She wasn’t flat-chested anymore. That was for sure. But she still had thick hair. Although matted and snarled at the moment, it was one of her best assets because it was such a rich blond color and so full of body.
He steered back into the right lane before glancing over at her again. “How long have you been in town?”
Her eyelids rested against her cheeks. If he had his guess, her head was pounding like a jackhammer, but she didn’t complain. “Since Saturday.”
“I mean...before that.”
“I was born in Whiskey Creek.”
“Then we’d be more familiar with each other, wouldn’t we?”
“Not necessarily.”
“I know most people in town pretty well, especially those close to my age.”
“You were caught up in your own life.”
There was a slight undercurrent as she spoke, but it was subtle enough that he couldn’t call her on it. In any case, he wasn’t convinced he’d been any more self-absorbed than other teenagers. “In what way?”
“Never mind.”
“Are we talking about when I was ten or fifteen or...twenty? ‘Caught up’ at twenty being the least flattering, of course,” he added with a chuckle.
A muscle jumped in her cheek. Then she sighed and opened her eyes, as if she was about to give him all the facts about her background at once so he’d leave her alone. “I spent my summers with Milly until eighth grade,” she recited in clipped syllables. “Then, when my mother left for Germany to be with her—what was it then, third?—husband I stayed with Gran.”
He skipped over the number of marriages, figured it wouldn’t be wise to comment on that, not when he was trying to put her at ease. “She married a German? How’d that happen? I’m guessing this was before online dating.”
At this, she actually smiled. “It was. They met via a dating service. He’s American. After dating here, they married. Then he accepted a contract with the military for some consulting work and that required him to live in Frankfurt. She wanted to tour Europe.”
“What about your father?”
“He died in a motorcycle accident before I was born.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He was racing when he died. He and my mother weren’t married. I don’t get the impression he would’ve been a big part of my life if he’d lived.”
He veered away from that subject, too. “So we were teenagers during the period you were referring to?” He grinned at her. “At least that’s younger than twenty.”
She didn’t hurry to reassure him that she hadn’t meant anything negative by her earlier statement. And he noticed the slight, couldn’t help wondering if it was intentional.
“Yes,” she said. “I lived with her until I graduated from high school.”
He found it odd that a mother would give up her child to tour Europe, but he didn’t want to probe what could be a sensitive subject. He was more interested in figuring out why he didn’t remember her, and why she was so...prickly. He’d never encountered anyone determined to dislike him right from the get-go. He might’ve thought he’d slept with her and never called, but he hadn’t done anything like that until college. In trying to cope with the pain of losing Cody, he’d done what he could to distract himself, and sex had been a more effective distraction than any of his other options. “Which would mean we went to Eureka High together for what...two years?”
“You were a junior when I first noticed you.”
She seemed to remember him distinctly, which made him slightly uncomfortable. Was it possible that she’d had a crush on him? Was that what she held against him—some unrequited love thing? Unlike his brother, he hadn’t been interested in girls until he’d started at San Diego State. “Was it on the baseball diamond?”
“It was in the halls, but I saw you on the diamond, too. I watched you play every game.”
So that was her who’d congratulated him so awkwardly. And...she’d watched him play? Specifically? Maybe he’d guessed correctly about the crush, too. The girl who’d approached him after that home run had turned beet-red the moment he’d looked at her, had seemed to regret being impetuous enough to draw his attention.
“Then you’re a baseball fan.” He was about to explain that he could now recall having seen her, but she cut him off.
“Not anymore.”
Why did it feel as if there was a personal element in that response, as well? As if she was saying she was no longer his fan? “What’s wrong with baseball?” Or me, for that matter?
“It’s become a bit of a symbol to me.”
“That’s cryptic.”
She’d gone cold again, remote. “I’m a cryptic person.”
“So you won’t tell me.”
“There’s no point.”
But he was curious. He’d always loved baseball, still played slow-pitch softball in a co-ed league. For him, sports didn’t symbolize anything except a challenge. “Listen, if I said or did something that hurt your feelings back in the day, I’m sorry. I honestly don’t remember it.”
She attempted another smile, but this one fell short of the more sincere grin she’d flashed him after his online dating comment. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “Don’t mind me. I’m not at my best.”
He could understand why. She had to feel like shit. So he cut her some slack. “No problem.”
He drove farther before breaking the silence again. “Where’d you go after high school?”
She stared straight ahead, through the windshield, instead of turning like most people would during a conversation. Her resistance gave him the impression that she didn’t like looking at him. He almost checked the mirror to see what the sweat and mud from his ride had done to his face.
“The California Culinary Academy in San Francisco,” she said.
“You’re a chef?”
Her eyes still wouldn’t meet his. “I was. I quit my job a week ago.”
“In the Bay Area?”
“No, Davis.”
“Why’d you quit? Were you planning to move back to Whiskey Creek? Or are you in town for a visit?”
Sliding lower in her seat, she pulled her legs up under his sweatshirt. “I’m not sure exactly how long I’ll stay. I quit because Gran needs my help. She’s getting old and can’t move around like she used to. She shouldn’t be driving, for one thing, yet she visits me once a month.”
“You can’t come here?”
“I haven’t been back since I graduated.”
“Because...”
“I don’t enjoy returning. But I don’t want to put her in assisted living. That’s never been what I envisioned for her. And some decisions have to be made about the restaurant.”
“Darlene Bigelow basically runs it for her, and she seems to do a good job. Won’t she continue?”
“I plan to keep Darlene on as long as possible, but I’m hoping Gran will agree to sell the restaurant and come back to Davis with me.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “I’d hate to see the restaurant go to anyone else,” he said. “Just Like Mom’s is an institution in Whiskey Creek.”
She cleared her throat. “As much as I wish otherwise, Gran won’t live forever.”
“But you have restaurant experience. And you need a job.” He grinned, hoping to tempt her into taking his suggestion seriously, but she shook her head.
“I’m a good chef. I’ll find something elsewhere.”
“Then, considering how you feel about coming home, it’s nice of you to give up your job.”
“Actually, quitting wasn’t completely altruistic,” she admitted. “My ex-husband was coming on as manager, so both things sort of cropped up at once.”
Noah had to adjust the heat. He could hardly breathe. “Your ex, huh? That’s bad luck.”
She shrugged. “Luck didn’t have much to do with it. His family owns the restaurant. That’s how we met. But after our divorce, he lost his business—a pest control company—and hasn’t been able to get anything else going. They feel obligated to help, of course. And if I’d forced them to choose between us...well, you know who’d they’d pick.”
“Blood’s thicker than water and all that.”
“Exactly.”
“So...you’re divorced?”
“The marriage was so short it doesn’t really feel that way.”
She was quite an enigma. He leaned forward, hoping to get her to look at him, but...nothing doing. It was almost as if he repelled her. Maybe he stank. After such a difficult ride, that was possible. “Any chance you said ‘I do’ following a hard night of drinking in Vegas?”
He was teasing and he could tell she understood that. “Sadly, we were both sober, just...misguided.”
“How?”
“I thought he’d be true. And he thought I’d put up with him seeing other women.”
Noah knew better than to ask, but he couldn’t resist. “He’s not the one who did this to you....”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand why you won’t let me take you to the—”
“Who’d you end up marrying?”
She’d interrupted because she didn’t want to deal with the pressure he was putting on her. This was the first personal question she’d asked; he knew it was merely an attempt to distract him.
“No one.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a professional biker. Mostly I race in Europe—during the spring and summer. This is the off-season, so I get to stay home and run my bike store, which is a nice change. Traveling so much can get old.”
“You own Crank It Up?”
“You’ve been there?”
“No, I saw it when I drove through town on Saturday. You took over the building where the old thrift shop used to be.”
“That’s right.”
“So...business is good?”
“Fortunately, mountain biking has become a popular sport. For the most part business is good.”
“Do you ever see Kevin Colbert?”
There was an odd, husky quality to her voice with this question that hadn’t been there before, but he didn’t know what to attribute it to. “Occasionally.”
“Who’d he marry?”
“Audrey Calhoun. They were an item back in school, remember? Got together junior year.”
“I remember. So they’re still in Whiskey Creek?”
“Yeah. They live in that new development not too far from the Pullman Mansion—the place where they have weddings and stuff? He’s a P.E. teacher at Eureka High these days. He’s also the football coach.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“He was always a decent player.”
“Any kids?”
“Three.”
“What about Tom Gibby?”
She seemed to know all his old teammates. “He’s around. He’s a postal clerk. Figures that the nicest guy in school turns out to be the steadiest, most devoted family man. You’re never going to believe this, though. He married Selena.”
“Parley Mechem’s little sister?”
He couldn’t tell if she was surprised. He couldn’t even tell if she liked the people they were talking about. She gave no indication one way or the other. “Yeah. She was about twelve when we were in high school.”
She rested her chin on her knees. “Are Cheyenne Christensen and Eve Harmon still friends?”
“Definitely.”
A faint smile curved her lips. “I’d be shocked if they weren’t. They were always close.”