Freefall (27 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

T
HE
NEXT
TWO
weeks were the best of his life.

Sam spent as much time with Hope as possible while she was on leave. He drove to her psychologist appointments, and she attended his. Owen recovered well enough to return to park housing, but Hope stayed with Sam.

The drug smuggling scandal made national news. Phillip Meeks claimed to have been acting on Bill Kruger’s instructions. He was trying to plead guilty to a lesser crime. Law enforcement hadn’t caught up with Nick Kruger or Javier Del Norte, who’d been named as “persons of interest” in the investigation. Doug Dixon had been cleared of wrongdoing but demoted from his leadership position.

Hope seemed to be taking the upheaval in stride. There was some scrambling within NPS for a new manager. A district ranger from Yosemite had stepped in as Dixon’s replacement. Hope would be transferred to Giant Forest, the most popular area of the park. Cordova had taken over Kruger’s position at Kaweah.

As always, Hope’s main concern was Faith. During another short visit to L.A., Hope told Sam she was worried about her sister’s flighty behavior. Faith had been going out to clubs and seeing an ex-boyfriend.

Sam tried to offer Hope comfort and support without judging Faith. He knew how difficult it was to make safe, healthy decisions when you were hurting.

“Give her time,” he’d said.

Hope needed time, too. She’d let him in physically, holding nothing back in bed. He was always hungry for her, so he had no complaints on that front. They’d also grown closer emotionally, talking and laughing together. He cherished the playful moments with her as much as the quiet ones. But he wanted more.

He wanted her love.

The most difficult conversation they’d had was about Melissa. Sam still wanted to distribute her ashes at Mount Whitney, but he balked at the idea of Hope coming with him. It was a hard climb, and reaching the summit had been Melissa’s dream. He didn’t think Hope should feel obligated to fulfill it.

“I don’t feel obligated,” she’d said. “I have some goodbyes of my own to say.”

They finally agreed to make the trip on the last weekend of her administrative leave. Melissa had planned to hike the High Sierra Trail, a strenuous seventy-mile trek that approached the mountain from the west side. Sam and Hope would drive around to the east face instead, which offered easier access. From that route, known as Whitney Portal, they could ascend the highest point in hours.

On the morning of the climb, they rose well before dawn. When they reached Iceberg Lake, the sun had risen, bathing the east-facing wall in brilliant white light. The upper section of the mountain was much like Angel Wings, Valhalla and the other sharp peaks in the area. It reached an altitude known as alpine climate, treeless and bare.

The east slope was in the rain shadow, as well. Most of the precipitation fell on the lush green blanket of the Sequoia National Forest. On the opposite side of the High Sierras, the landscape was barren. The desolate flat stretched out for hundreds of miles, into the sunbaked crags of Death Valley.

Sam’s unease didn’t dissipate until they reached the summit. He needed time to adjust, like everyone else. He might never completely overcome his fear that she would be killed or injured in an accident. With time and practice, he could be a more relaxed partner, better equipped to handle the emotional stress.

At the zenith, they stood side by side, awed by the view. Iceberg Lake resembled a pupilless blue eye in the valley below. It was humbling to know that the granite peaks surrounding them had been here, unchanged, for thousands of years.

After lunch, he took the ashes out of his pack and moved to the cliff’s edge. It still hurt to think of Melissa’s death, but he could face the memory of the accident without breaking down. He could also move beyond it, and focus on the good times. He could acknowledge her many strengths and flaws.

Tears burned in his eyes as he released the ashes. “Goodbye,” he murmured, picturing her pretty face.

He said goodbye to her boundless ambition and unswerving confidence. Her kind heart and easy athleticism. Her passion and impatience, her quick mind and sharp tongue. To the wedding they’d never have; to their life together.

Although he was ready to let go, he’d loved her deeply, and no amount of time or healing would take all of the pain away.

When his emotions were under control again, he glanced at Hope. She grasped his hand, smiling at his sentimentalism. He wished he wasn’t embarrassed about the tears, but he was, and probably always would be.

She had her own set of ashes to distribute. Last night, she’d made a list of the things she wanted to say goodbye to. When she was finished, she crumpled the paper into a ball and set it on fire inside a glass jar.

“Goodbye, Paul,” she said, naming her high school sweetheart. “Goodbye to my feelings of resentment. Goodbye to my teenage dreams.” Her voice trembled, but she soldiered on. “Goodbye to martyrdom. Goodbye to my jealousy of Grace’s parents. Goodbye to guilt, and secrecy, and shame.”

She let the ashes spill from the container, her eyes shining.

They lingered at the summit for another hour, exploring the area with other climbers. He enjoyed the air of exaltation among them, the grinning camaraderie and triumphant faces. This was why he climbed. Not for fame and glory and adrenaline, but for the simple satisfaction of setting a goal and achieving it.

Their plan for the afternoon was to hike down the east slope. Of the three trails available, they chose the one less traveled. It was more of a scramble than the others, with steeper drops and sharper switchbacks, but it was scenic and secluded.

A few miles down the path, a sturdy rope bridge stretched across a deep gorge. After they reached the other side, Hope paused to take in the majestic view. Glacier water rushed over boulders and fallen logs in a cool white cascade, feeding into a stream more than two hundred feet below.

“Beautiful,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

She rested her back against his chest, sighing with contentment. At least, he hoped it was. That’s what he felt. Pure peace.

Her fingertips wandered a lazy path from his elbow to his hand. She touched the square bandage on the inside of his wrist. “What’s this?”

Sam’s pulse kicked up at the question. Since recovering his memory, he’d considered getting his tattoo removed. He didn’t bother to cover it anymore, and he didn’t need the visual reminder. But the tattoo was part of him and he wanted to keep it. Instead of discarding one memento, he’d added another on the opposite wrist.

He hesitated to reveal his new tattoo. Although his skin was healed well enough, he didn’t know if she’d like the message. They hadn’t exchanged any promises or made plans for the future. He hadn’t even told her he loved her again. She seemed uncomfortable with romantic declarations, and he didn’t want her to feel pressured.

He’d learned from his mistakes, however. He couldn’t hide anything from her. So he peeled away the bandage, baring all.

Her mouth went slack as she read the script:
Hope Forever.
“When did you get that?”

“When you were in L.A. I thought about covering up the other one with a set of wings.” He wasn’t sure how she felt about him having another woman’s name on his body. “I could still do that, I guess.”

“No,” she said, brushing her thumb over the new tattoo.

“You don’t mind?”

“I know how much you loved her,” she said, lifting her gaze to his face. “I’d never try to...replace her.”

His chest tightened with emotion. He couldn’t say he loved Hope more than he’d loved Melissa, but he was a different man with her. A better man, in many ways. For years, he’d chased thrill after thrill, always looking for a new adventure. After Melissa’s accident, he’d actively courted death. Now he appreciated life. He cherished every moment.

“I don’t want a replacement,” he said. “I love
you.
”

She stared up at him, her lips trembling. He thought about kissing her to save her from having to respond.

Then she took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

His heart lodged in his throat. For several seconds, he couldn’t form any response. When he’d recovered enough to speak, he said, “Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated, sputtering. “That’s it?”

He took her by the hand, smiling at her incredulous expression. “When I thought you’d drowned in the river with Owen, I wanted to die. I’d never felt so low. Then I saw you alive, and I was overwhelmed with relief. That moment would have sustained me for the rest of my life. This one tops it. Hearing you say you love me back is beyond the limit. It’s like...climbing above the sky.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Really?”

“Yes.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Who are you, and what have you done with Sam Rutherford?”

He laughed, hugging her back with pleasure. She’d given him new hope, a new chance, a new life. Their bond felt strong and real and unbreakable. Together, they’d face the inevitable ups and downs, incredible highs and lows. Sam planned to live each moment to the fullest, embracing challenges and enjoying the climb.

He looked forward to every step.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Six months later

F
AITH
USUALLY
LOOKED
forward to the holidays.

She liked the music, the parties, the shopping sprees. December’s cooler weather finally gave way to a short season of winter fashions. L.A.’s sun-drenched darlings brought out their high-heeled boots, designer jeans and fuzzy sweaters. The salon bustled with last-minute hair and nail appointments. Tips were good. There was an air of gaiety.

Not this year.

Business was great, and she enjoyed wearing her warmer clothes, but that was about it. The festive mood hadn’t grabbed her, and it was ten days to Christmas. Charlie must have felt sorry for her, because he took her on a lunch date. They walked from the salon to an Italian restaurant, where Faith declined a glass of wine.

“You’ve really got it bad,” Charlie said.

She sighed, shaking her head. After the skirmish at her apartment, she’d told Charlie about the sexual assault and kidnapping. He’d understood better than she’d anticipated, and she appreciated his support.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said dully. “My sister is bringing her boyfriend.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. He’s hot and rich and my parents love him.”

“He sounds like an asshole.”

She laughed. “He’s actually not. I’m the asshole.”

“Why?”

“Because I should be happy for her. Instead, I’m wallowing.”

“Wallowing is underrated,” he said, lifting his wine glass in a toast. He’d broken up with his boyfriend a few weeks ago. “You can come to Aspen with me, if you’d like. Plenty of rich, hot assholes there.”

Her mouth twisted into a rueful smile. She’d tried using other men to forget Javier. It hadn’t worked so far. “Thanks for the invite, but I can’t.” Her mother would be upset if Faith blew off the holidays. She’d been a little extra attentive since the...incident, calling more often to check up on her. “You should come to Ojai.”

“Do you have any brothers?”

“You know I don’t.”

They finished the meal and visited a nearby fountain, wallowing together. Charlie did a double take over Faith’s shoulder. “Maybe we don’t have to go all the way to Aspen,” he said. “A hot guy is checking you out.”

She didn’t care.

“Faith...he’s coming this way.”

With reluctance, she glanced across the courtyard. The man walking toward them was Javier Del Norte. Her lips parted with surprise and she took a step back, almost stumbling into the fountain. “Oh my God.”

“That’s him, isn’t it?”

She couldn’t answer. Javier didn’t look like himself. Or he didn’t look exactly the way she remembered him. His hair was pitch-black, and cropped short. His clothes might be vintage, but they weren’t quirky or ironic. The worn Levi’s jeans and the basic button-down shirt, not tucked in, were nondescript, at best.

Javier closed the distance between them, his expression cautious. “Hello,” he said, nodding to Faith and Charlie.

Faith was at a loss. Was she supposed to introduce him? “Charlie, this is...”

“Jay,” he supplied, shaking Charlie’s hand.

Charlie returned the handshake warily.

“Do you have a minute?” Javier asked Faith.

“Sure,” she said. Aware that he wanted to speak to her alone, she gestured to an empty bench on the other side of the courtyard.

“I’ll wait right here,” Charlie said.

Javier gave him a courteous nod. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

Although his words sounded sincere, Charlie narrowed his eyes with suspicion. He considered Javier a dangerous criminal, and a threat to Faith’s safety. His body language was protective, his muscles tense.

Faith stepped in and hugged her friend. “I’ll be fine,” she murmured in his ear. “You don’t have to stay.”

But he did, lingering at the fountain as they walked away.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Javier asked.

“What do you think?”

He shrugged. It was fairly obvious that Charlie was gay. “Stranger things have happened.”

“Yes.” Like their hookup.

She sat down on the bench next to him. It overlooked a tree-lined sidewalk that was popular with joggers and strollers. In the middle of downtown, the touch of greenery was refreshing. Not that she missed the woods.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“I’ve been better.”

His eyes wandered over her face. “You look beautiful.”

She still took pains with her appearance, but derived little satisfaction from it. This was partly his fault. A strange mix of joy and resentment warred within her. She was glad to see him. Glad to see him alive.

He’d seemed encouraged by her willingness to speak with him. At her apartment all those months ago, she’d called out drunkenly to him in Spanish: I hope we meet again. The time had dragged on since then with no word from him, and her feelings had changed. She’d begun to hope they wouldn’t meet again.

Now she just wanted to forget him. If he thought she’d welcome him back into her life with open arms, he was wrong.

He lowered his voice. “The FBI caught up with me at a storage locker where I’d stashed some money. They gave me a new identity, and a green card, in exchange for consulting with them about the cartel.”

“You’re a legal citizen?”

He took a card out of his wallet to show her. It was white, not green.

“José Duran,” she read.

“I’ve been going by Jay.”

She handed it back, frowning. This wasn’t what she’d expected.

“The agents don’t think anyone from my old crew is looking for me, but they said it would be safer to change my name. I wasn’t allowed to contact you before now. They just gave me clearance to meet you in a neutral location.”

“Where do you live?”

“East L.A. I have an apartment. It’s tiny, and the furniture is awful, but it’s mine.”

“And you get paid to do consulting?”

“No,” he said, glancing back at the fountain. Charlie was watching. “They don’t pay me. They confiscated the cash from my locker, too. I put in real hours at a real job.”

“Doing what?”

“Trash collecting.”

She tried not to grimace. “How do you like it?”

“Compared to jail or deportation, it’s great,” he said with a rueful smile. “The FBI placed me there, so I’m required to stay for two years.”

“What will you do after that?”

“I don’t know. I might go back to Venezuela.”

“You want to go back?”

“No. I want to live here, with you.”

She wasn’t ready to hear that. For the past few months, she’d been trying to harden her heart against him. In some ways, she’d succeeded.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked.

“Have you been spying on me?”

“Not since...that night.”

She remembered drinking too much and flirting with strangers before Charlie dragged her home from the bar. It wasn’t the only time she’d sought out male attention. She’d looked for comfort in all the wrong places. “I’ve been with other men.”

His jaw tightened with displeasure. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Then tell me.”

She gazed at the tall buildings in the distance, catching sight of a billboard advertisement for dental veneers. “During the first few weeks, I kept having nightmares about Nick. I was afraid of strange men, jumping out of my own skin. I thought sleeping with someone else would...cure my phobia.”

“Did it?”

“Not really. I went back with Tom, my ex-boyfriend. He was safe. After the kidnapping, he finally saw me as a person, instead of a plaything he’d grown bored with. But my feelings for him weren’t there anymore.”

He said nothing. Feelings or no feelings, it was clear that he didn’t want other men touching her.

This next part would probably enrage him.

“I liked myself the way I was,” she said. “I liked...owning my sexuality. When Nick held me down against my will, he took that from me, and I wanted it back. So I went out with someone not quite as safe.”

“Who?”

“Caleb.”

He stared at her in dismay, stricken by the confession. “You did this to hurt me, not to heal yourself.”

“Maybe.”

“Was it good?”

“Yes.”

Too agitated to sit there, he rose to his feet and stepped forward, putting some space between them.

Faith felt a twinge of regret. The sex with Caleb hadn’t been special. His leg was in a brace, and he’d been “horny as hell” after getting the cast off. It was safe, because he had limited mobility, and not safe, because she didn’t know him very well.

She stood to defend herself. “It wasn’t
that
good.”

“Did you see him more than once?”

“No. He’s a jerk. I have no interest in seeing him again.”

He let out a harsh laugh. Though humorless, it made her feel just a little bit like her former self. She moved closer, curling her hand around his upper arm. Lifting trash cans hadn’t weakened his muscles any. Her tummy fluttered in awareness. The thrill of female admiration was pure Old Faith.

“It meant nothing,” she continued, encouraged when he didn’t pull away. “I didn’t know where you were, or even if you were alive.”

“You thought I was dead?”

She swallowed hard. “I considered it a distinct possibility. Hope told me that the FBI was no longer pursuing you.”

“They already had me.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t know that. I couldn’t stop worrying about you. I was...traumatized. I’m still not the same.”

He looked down at her, weighing those words. He seemed reassured by the fact that her encounter with Caleb hadn’t fixed any problems. “You need someone who cares about you
and
makes you feel sexy.”

Tears pressed behind her eyes, because he was right. “Are you applying for the position?”

“You know I am.”

She smiled and squeezed his arm, blinking the moisture from her eyes. She’d been wondering how to get her mojo back for six months. He’d thought of a reasonable solution in six minutes.

“What are you doing tomorrow night? I’ll take you out on a date.”

“Okay,” she said, playing it cool. On the inside, she was squealing with glee. “I should get back to Charlie.”

They said goodbye and made arrangements to meet at the fountain again. She rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, very close to his lips, before she walked away. In true Faith style, she left him staring after her, wanting more.