Authors: Jo Goodman
Rennie raised her chin a notch and looked past Jolene's shoulder to Jarret. "Twenty thousand dollars couldn't budge you," she said quietly. "What makes you think I can command a hundred men?"
"Perhaps you don't know the right word," said Jarret. When she merely stared at him blankly he shook his head. "Never mind. What about Banks? Can't he do anything?"
"He insisted on the first search party," she said. "The one Ethan headed. When there was no evidence that Jay Mac had survived he called it off. He refuses to begin another."
"He's in charge of Northeast Rail, then?"
Rennie nodded. "He's in charge."
Jarret's mouth curled to one side derisively. "And he didn't even have to marry you."
Watching Rennie's face pale and the bruise become more livid, Jolene snapped at Jarret. "That's enough. It's not like you don't know how to treat a woman decent." She leaned forward and laid her hand over Rennie's knee. "He's been this way since he came back from New York," she said. "Ever since the—"
"Shut up, Jolene."
Jolene blinked at Jarret's tone. She closed her mouth.
The long and uncomfortable silence was finally broken by Jarret. Folding his arms across his chest, he spoke tersely to Rennie. "Did you ask Ethan for help?"
"He gave me help. He told me to find you."
"Why didn't he bring you here himself?"
"Besides the fact that his leg's in a splint, you mean?"
Jarret let her know with a single raised eyebrow that he was displeased she had withheld that information. "What happened?"
"He says he slid down half a mountain during the search. Michael says it was more like a hundred feet, but she's not letting him out of her sight."
"Michael is the smarter twin," he told Jolene dryly. Then to Rennie, "Why didn't you say this before?"
"I didn't want you put off by the danger."
It was Jolene who gave a husky bark of laughter. "Honey, danger's just a tease to that man. Leastways it used to be." She looked over her shoulder at Jarret and caught his sour look. She merely smiled sweetly. "Quit your glowerin' and go fetch some more firewood. It's getting cold in here."
Jarret knew better than to believe Jolene was cold. He left her alone with Rennie, hoping she could talk some sense into her.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Jolene's smile vanished. She looked at Rennie, searching her features. "How bad did those bastards hurt you?" she asked with quiet fierceness.
"A few bruises." She touched her jaw. "Here." She touched her breast. "Here." There were the other marks, the ones made by Jarret, but she did not mention the brand of his lips on her neck or at the base of her throat. Jarret had not touched her with savage intent. Only at the end, only then, when he had left her bewildered and hurting, had the outcome savaged her. Something of that pain showed in her dark green eyes. "They didn't rape me," she said. "Jarret stopped them."
"I wish I had been there to stop the whole thing."
"None of it's your fault."
Jolene's smile was weak. "I didn't come here to be comforted by you," she said. "Well, then again, maybe I did. I feel so damn guilty. Jarret, too. He was absolutely wild when I told him you left. Couldn't get out of here fast enough." She studied Rennie's pale face again, her unhappy, heavy-lidded eyes, and folded hands. Jolene recognized Rennie was holding herself together by sheer force of her will. "So what happened after," she asked, "between you and Jarret?"
Rennie's startled, cornered-fawn look gave her away. Still she bluffed. "What do you mean?"
"You're not that good a poker player," Jolene said. "Not with those eyes. Sad to say, but I've got enough experience to read the signs. Did you turn to Jarret for comfort and things get out of hand?"
She hesitated, turning away to stare out the window. The snow reflected the blue-gray colors of twilight. Beyond the clearing of the cabin the barren trees were spindly silhouettes. "Something like that," she said finally. "Whatever happened was my fault. I thought... I don't know... that it would be healing. Those men... Jarret's not like them... he didn't touch me like that. In the beginning he made me feel..."
"Desired?" Jolene asked gently.
Rennie nodded. Her lower lip trembled and she sucked it in to still it. She smoothed away tears under each eye with the ball of her thumb. "Yes," she said, "desired. And then..."
"You weren't ready."
"No, I was. At least I think I was. I know I wanted him." It struck her that she was baring herself to a near perfect stranger, and yet Jolene seemed exactly the right person to tell. "My sister, my mother, they told me what I might expect, how I might feel, and it was like that, only better."
Sweet Jesus, Jolene thought, had she ever been so naive? She couldn't remember. But it felt good to smile at Rennie's sweet, artless disclosure and admit a certain sadness for an innocence lost. "But," she said, prompting, "I hear a 'but.' "
Rennie's eyes dried abruptly and her voice was hollow. "But then it changed. He became so angry. No, not just angry—furious. I don't know what I did. I think he must hate me."
"I don't think I understand," she said. "What caused the change? You were making love and then..."
Rennie couldn't answer. She heard the back door handle turn, and a moment later cold air blasted the cabin. She forced a bright smile. "It doesn't matter. It won't happen again. I know that."
Jolene wasn't as convinced. The cabin was small. The loft was smaller. She touched Rennie's hand lightly. "You'll let me know if you need anything, if there's anything I can do?"
Rennie glanced toward the door as Jarret walked in. She nodded quickly at Jolene, eager to end the conversation.
Jolene came out of the rocker and relieved Jarret of some of the firewood. She teased him, practicing spritely conversation while she helped him build the fire. When he started to take off his coat, she stopped him. "I have to be leaving. Walk outside with me and give me a leg up."
Rennie watched them from the window, their shadowed figures blurring into one as they walked arm in arm. She couldn't tell if they were talking but suspected that with Jolene it couldn't be otherwise. Rennie wondered about the confidences she had shared. Were they safe? She thought they probably were. At least when Jarret returned to the cabin he didn't confront her with anything she'd told Jolene.
"She brought some newspapers," Jarret said, indicating the small stack on the table. "You don't have to read the shelf liner anymore."
"I didn't mind. It was interesting."
Jarret's expression was patently skeptical. He carried the stack over to the window seat and dropped it beside Rennie. Taking the top paper, he sat in the rocker and began to read. A half hour later when Jarret looked up, Rennie was sleeping. He went to the loft, retrieved a pillow and blanket, and slipped the former under her head and the latter around her shoulders. She didn't stir.
* * *
When Rennie woke the cabin was perfectly dark. The fire had gone out, and the sliver of moonlight wasn't nearly enough to light her way. The window seat was uncomfortable, too short and too drafty. She shifted her position several times before giving up and deciding to go to the loft. She made her way across the cabin with sleepy caution, hoping she didn't trip over Jarret, but too weary to care. The ladder creaked under her weight. Halfway up she realized she had neither her pillow nor the blanket. Her unhappy sigh was loud in the still cabin. She went back.
The sloping loft roof left little room for standing movement. Rennie kept her head low, tossed the pillow and blanket down, and sank to her knees on the feather tick. She removed her shoes and then fumbled with the hooks and eyes on her gown, unfastening enough of them so that she could pull it off over her head. Pitching it to one side, Rennie lay back in her chemise and petticoats, covered herself with blankets and a down comforter, and closed her eyes.
That's when she realized she had been ignoring her body's more basic needs.
She felt like crying. She was so spent, so infinitely weary that the walk to the privy had the appeal of a cross-country journey. "Damn, damn, damn," she swore softly, sitting up. Throwing off the covers, she scrambled across the tick and down the ladder. It was when her stocking feet touched the cold floor that she remembered her shoes.
Completely undone, Rennie leaned against the ladder and wept.
She had no clear idea how long she stood there or how quietly or loudly she sobbed; she only knew that it ended when Jarret slipped one arm behind her back and the other under her knees and lifted her.
"The privy?" he asked.
She nodded, realized he couldn't see her, then said in a small voice, "Yes."
He started walking to the back door. "When you return to New York, never wander off Manhattan Island again."
Rennie felt she didn't deserve to take offense. She was totally inadequate in her own eyes as well as his.
Jarret waited outside the privy and carried her back to the cabin when she was through. He followed her up the ladder, took off his boots, and stretched out on the far side of the feather tick. The spot he had vacated when he went to assist Rennie was still warm.
"You were here all along?" she asked, lying down again.
"Mm-hmm. Until you started wailing. The window seat was a stupid idea."
She had
known
that. She punched her pillow and folded it under her head. "What am I going to do about Jay Mac?" she asked forlornly.
His response was as practical as it was unwelcome. "Nothing tonight, Rennie. Go to sleep."
Exhaustion claimed her again. It was Jarret who lay awake for the better part of the next hour, wondering what he was going to do about Mary Renee Dennehy.
* * *
The conversation at breakfast could have been about how they tangled in the night and woke in each other's arms. It wasn't. Neither was prepared to discuss it. What they did talk about was mostly inconsequential until Jarret said, "Tell me what's really going on at Northeast Rail."
There was almost an imperceptible tightening of Rennie's fingers around her mug. "I'm not certain what you mean."
His sapphire eyes darkened and did not waver from Rennie's face. "If I'm going to help you, then you have to start telling me the truth—all of it."
Rennie stood. "Would you like some more tea?"
He gave her his mug, watching her carefully as she tried to shake off her agitation. He stretched out his legs under the table. The shift in weight tipped his uneven chair slightly. "What's happened between you and Hollis?" he asked.
She nearly burned her fingers. "Happened? What makes you think something's happened?" She finished pouring her tea and returned to the table. "Hollis and I are still... together."
"Really? Is that because he wants it or because you want it?"
"What did you mean about helping me?" she asked. "Is that your intention? Have you changed your mind?"
"You haven't answered my question."
She was silent for a long time, staring at her reflection in her tea. Without looking at Jarret she said, "Hollis is the one who considers us... partners. I broke off with him some time ago."
"Before the accident at Juggler's Jump?"
"Yes," she said carefully. "Before that."
"Why does he still think you're interested in him? You told him straight out that you didn't want him, didn't you?"
Rennie nodded, worrying her lower lip for a moment. "I told him." She sipped her tea; then instead of lowering the mug, she stared at Jarret over the rim. "I told him lots of times. I told his parents. I told my parents. I was tempted to pay for a page in the
Chronicle
to announce the end."
"Why didn't you?"
She shrugged. "It would have been a waste of money. Hollis seemed to have convinced himself and most everyone else that I didn't know my own mind, that I was merely attempting to make him more public with his affections. My mother and sisters knew how serious I was, of course, but even Jay Mac had doubts about my convictions."
"Jay Mac never wanted you to marry Hollis."
"No, he didn't. But he didn't know any longer if I knew what I wanted."
"Did you?"
Rennie lowered the mug. She met Jarret's eyes directly and never wavered. "Yes," she said. "I knew."
Jarret believed her. He sat up, leaning forward, and placed his folded arms on the table. "So you don't want anything to do with Hollis Banks, but he's not ready to let you go. What about since Jay Mac's death—"
"Disappearance."
"All right," he said. "Since Jay Mac's disappearance has Hollis shown any sign of changing his mind?"
"None. Working at the office became increasingly uncomfortable, in the end, impossible."
"You quit?"
She shook her head. "No. I couldn't do that. I took things home at first, and then I made the decision to come here."
"To get away from Hollis Banks?"
"To find my father."
Jarret had little doubt that Rennie was holding something back. He let it pass for now. "So Hollis is in charge of Northeast Rail now."