Jed's Sweet Revenge (22 page)

“Why?” was all he said, but the clipped, anxious word contained a saga of anger and hurt.

“Jedidiah, I decided it was best if I left without telling you—at least this time. You would never have let me come back by myself … and I have to
learn to travel alone, don’t I? And … it hurt less, this way.”

“You don’t know what it did to me, to get back tonight and find out you’d headed across the damn country by yourself.” His voice was hard. “It scared the hell out of me.”

“I have to learn, my love. You know that.”

“Is this how it’s going to be when we’re married? Will you run for the damn island every time I turn my back?”

“No!”

“I’ll be on the first plane to Atlanta in the morning. Dammit, Thena, what you did wasn’t fair.”

“We agreed that this is the only way we can share a life, Jedidiah. This is how … how it’s going to be the rest of our lives. We have to get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it! I want you … here.” He stopped to compose his voice, which sounded ragged and gruff. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No.” Her tears weren’t silent anymore. They invaded her voice and made it waver. “This is the way our life is going to be, Jedidiah. We’ll make it wonderful, I promise. But we have to … learn to … be apart. You can’t … come. You have to buy your … ranch.”

“How can I care about a ranch when I’m worried about you on the other side of the country?”

“My spirits look after me, Jedidiah. Don’t worry.”

“Dammit, Thena, don’t talk to me about your spirits. You believe what you want to about spooks, but if you need help, it won’t be them who’ll know it—it’ll be me. That’s because there’s a bond between two people who love each other as much as we do, and it hasn’t got anything to do with any spirits but our own.”

“My stubborn Jedidiah.” She pressed a hand to her throat, trying to keep her voice from dissolving completely. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I told you. I’m getting on a plane—”

“To do what? Come here to stay? To live permanently?”

His long silence ended finally in a long stream of low, tormented curses directed at the madness of the situation. “No, Jedidiah, you’re going to live in Wyoming and visit Sancia. I’m going to live on Sancia and visit Wyoming. That’s how it will be. I think you should … I think you should come back here … in a month.”

“A month?” His voice was tragic.

“I’ll call you lots.” She heard the incessant buzzing that signaled that another ham radio operator wanted to use the phone connection. “Jedidiah. I have to go now. Promise you won’t come here tomorrow. Swear it.”

She thought for several seconds that he wouldn’t answer. Then his low, weary voice rumbled across the distance. “I swear.”

“I love you, Jedidiah.”

“Take care of yourself, take good care.”

“You too, my love.”

They hung on the line, dreading the good-bye. Another buzz interrupted them. Thena sobbed raggedly. “Good night, cowboy.”

“Thena, dear God, Thena.”

“Good night, my heart.” Then she quickly put her phone on its cradle by the radio. Thena stumbled to the bedroom window and sank to the floor by it. She stared out at the night sky. West.

   “Is he hurt bad?” Through a haze of pain, Jed heard Mac’s booming voice and heavy footsteps coming toward him across the training ring. “Damn crazy man, gettin’ on that colt a second time!” Jed felt Mac’s head trainer, Tony Redman, pressing cautious hands over his rib cage. He winced as a dull ache throbbed through his chest, but forced himself to sit up.

“No, he’s not hurt bad,” Jed answered for himself. He ignored Tony’s protests to the contrary and squinted up at Mac’s broad, anxious face. “He’s fixin’ to get back on that feisty colt.” Across the ring, a huge gray quarter horse colt snorted derisively and shook his bridled head.

“The hell you are,” Mac informed him. “If you want to stay here any longer as my guest, you’re gonna calm down and quit takin’ risks.”

With Mac’s and Tony’s help, Jed stood up. He slapped a hand against his dusty leg. “I’ve been stomped by tougher colts than this one,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, when you were a few years younger and a helluva lot smarter,” Mac retorted. “When you weren’t eaten up with loneliness and worry. These last two weeks since Thena left, you been worthless. Workin’ twenty hours a day, drinkin’ at night, bein’ careless—it’s not like you, friend. You gotta cut it out.”

Jed shrugged Mac’s hand away from his shoulder. “You want me off the place, I’ll go,” he offered curtly.

“Oh, yeah? Where? Back to Thena’s island? That’s the only place you’re gonna be happy. Stop foolin’ yourself, you hardheaded bull.”

Jed grasped the older man’s hand and looked at him with a grimace of pain. “I apologize for bein’ a jerk.”

“Go back to her, you dumb cowpoke. Go live on the island.”

His chest heaving, Jed straightened wearily. “Can’t do it. The place is no good for me. It’s like”—he held out both hands as if searching for words—“I’m not wanted there—except by Thena.”

Mac’s brow furrowed in consternation. “Just who doesn’t want you there? Who else lives there?”

Jed shook his head and ended the discussion with a tired wave of one hand. If he told Mac that the island spirits didn’t want him there, Mac would give him a stiff drink and call the doctor. “I’m goin’ back
in two weeks,” he said. “In the meantime, I’m gonna ride that colt.”

He walked toward the arrogant gray, his ribs aching. Jed heard an ominous rattling sound and stopped, his boots frozen to the dusty earth as he scanned the immediate area.

“There’s a rattler here,” he called over his shoulder. “I can hear it.”

The unmistakable warning sound stopped abruptly, but he, Mac, and Tony carefully checked around the outskirts of the ring as well as the benches and water troughs beyond.

“Sun’s gettin’ to you, man,” Mac told him jovially. “There isn’t a snake within a mile of this ranch. I didn’t hear a thing.” He looked at Tony, a short, grizzled man with graying blond hair. “Did you?”

“Me neither, boss.” They both looked at Jed curiously.

A little shaken, frowning, Jed passed a hand over his forehead. He’d heard the damn rattlesnake. There was no doubt in his mind. “I think I’ll go lie down awhile,” Jed said slowly. “I must be punchy.”

He turned and walked toward the gate, his eyes dark with bewilderment. The rattling sound started again. This time Jed shivered. “There! Do you hear it now?” he demanded, pivoting around to gaze at the other two men. After a moment of embarrassment, they shook their heads. Jed felt nausea sweep over him. The rattling sound faded, then disappeared entirely. What the hell was going on?

“Call the doc,” he told Mac with outward calm. “I must have landed harder than I thought.” He swung about and walked toward the gate, fighting an odd feeling of panic that came from nowhere. That wasn’t true, he decided after a stricken moment. It came from the horizon. The eastern one.

Jed grabbed the gate with shaking hands. “I’m goin’ to the airport,” he informed Mac and Tony. “Something’s wrong with Thena.”

Mac latched a strong grip on his shoulder. “Pardner, you’re hurt. Stop it now. Calm down. You’re just confused. I think we’ll take you on down to doc’s, right now.”

Jed leaned his head on the gatepost and took several deep breaths. The bad, strange feelings began to fade. This was damn stupid of him, he decided. Mac was right. He was hurt, addled, worn out from lack of sleep and a series of hangovers.

“I’m okay,” he promised Mac. “I’ll just go lie down. Whew.” He shook his head weakly as he raised it. “I must be gettin’ old.”

“Aren’t we all?” Chuckling tensely, Mac guided him toward the main house.

   Cold perspiration misted Thena’s face and neck. She breathed in shallow, strained gulps as she leaned against the mossy base of a huge oak, studying her swollen right foot. It seemed oddly distant, separate from her body. Whining, Godiva and Rasputin sniffed at the ugly twin puncture marks just above the ankle. They had just finished making certain that the snake that was responsible for those wounds would never again surprise another traveler along this quiet path.

Thena had performed the only immediate first aid possible. She’d torn a thick strip off the skirt of her cotton sundress and tied it tightly above the bite. She knew it was a pitiful excuse for a tourniquet, but perhaps it would keep the venom from weakening her before she could get back to the house and radio for help.

Her head swam, and she touched it fearfully. Thena crawled to her feet, using the oak for support, but dizziness overwhelmed her and she slid down the rough tree trunk with a moan. Her house was on the other side of the island. She’d been taking a
shortcut to the northern beach, the beach near SalHaven.

Thena shivered violently. She closed her eyes, struggling to remain clearheaded. She might survive the rattler’s venom without medical help, but it was unlikely. She had to get to the house, the radio. She staggered to her feet again, swaying wildly. To her groggy mind, the trees seemed to be full of ethereal whispers. Suddenly Cendrillon trotted up, her eyes wide at the snake smell that still lingered on the balmy air.

“Thank … you … spirits,” Thena murmured. She tried to climb onto Cendrillon, but a sickening blackness accompanied the effort. Thena managed to drape herself over the mare’s trembling back, but coherent thought deserted her and she lay immobile there, unable to direct Cendrillon’s actions. Unbidden, the mare started to walk, her movements careful and slow.

Minutes, hours, perhaps years later, Thena dimly heard the crisp, hollow sound of Cendrillon’s hooves hitting rock. She opened her eyes and squinted down at the ground—no, not ground, marble—the smooth and dingy marble of SalHaven’s main hallway. Dull surprise mingled with Thena’s lethargic thoughts.

“Why here?” she asked aloud. Her hands swung limply by Cendrillon’s front legs as the little mare walked on through the old mansion. A moment later Thena realized that the marble was now dappled with sunlight and the air no longer carried the cool, musty smell of indoors. The majestic, curving pavilion with its broken skylights and ornate ceiling—that’s where they were now.

Thena cried out gratefully—coming here was for the best. She’d never have stayed on Cendrillon’s back all the way to the house, and she wouldn’t have had the strength or reason to use the radio once she arrived there. Thena shoved herself off Cendrillon’s back and collapsed sideways on the cool, smooth
floor of the pavilion. She barely knew when she turned to lay on her back, her arms limp by her sides.

The whispers began again. Thena shook her head wearily. No such thing. Jedidiah was right. There were no spirits—why would they have let this awful thing happen if they truly existed outside her imagination? The caring, protective presence around her was part of her imagination, too, but it gave her comfort.

If death is coming, she thought peacefully, this is a good place to meet it. But her face contracted with grief—she didn’t want to die, she wanted to hold Jedidiah again, desperately. She wanted to raise the children he would give her and grow old with him.

“Jedidiah, I need you,” she begged aloud. Her voice echoed throughout the silent mansion, and she lost consciousness before the echo faded.

   It was the merest wisp, more like a memory than a sensation, but he smiled as the clean, flowered scent of Sancia’s forest air reached him. Lying on the Bullocks’ guest room bed—the same bed he’d shared with Thena two weeks ago—Jed woke quickly when he realized that he wasn’t dreaming the island fragrance.

He jacknifed up in bed, wide awake, his eyes searching the room. Late morning sunlight angled through a window to his left, which told him that he’d been napping for at least an hour since the strange incident in the training ring. He inhaled raggedly, his heart thundering in a way that sent needles of fear down his spine. He wasn’t dreaming the scent of Sancia’s ancient forest. Horror spread through him like a dark cloud. Something was wrong with Thena, and nothing anyone could say would convince him otherwise.

He leapt out of bed, ignoring the soreness in his ribs, grabbing his wallet and boots as he ran toward
the door. Downstairs he raced past an archway that led to the home’s big den. He caught a glimpse of Barbara doing paperwork at a desk there.

“Goin’ to the island!” he yelled, and kept running.

“My lord, Jed, don’t. Wait!”

But by the time she ran outside, he was already jerking his black Ferrari into gear. He swung it down the Circle Ten’s graveled driveway and had already exceeded the local speed limit by the time the car reached the main road.

   Thena was damp and cold with fever already, and she shivered even more as long evening shadows crept off the marshes into the pavilion. In a brief interlude of consciousness, she heard Cendrillon’s soft, close nicker. Godiva and Rasputin had pressed their big bodies on either side of Thena’s, and she vaguely felt their muzzles resting on her arms.

She was alone, dying alone except for these dear old friends. Jedidiah … poor Jedidiah. She loved him so, and it hurt to think of the loneliness he’d suffer without her. She recreated his dear face deep in the last coherent recesses of her mind … and he was with her, she knew suddenly. There were no spirits. There was Jedidiah, and all the love between them. Even in the last minutes, she would cherish him. She turned her face toward the magenta shadows and was still.

Jed didn’t wait for Farlo’s boat to reach Sancia’s dock. He jumped across the last four feet.

“I’ll wait, just like you said to!” the old fisherman called after him. “But hurry, ’cause the sun’s about to set! I don’t like this place after dark!”

Jed crossed the beach at a run and headed up the woods path toward Thena’s house, his stomach wrenching with fear. It was so damn far. No matter how fast he ran, it was so far.…

Godiva and Rasputin’s deep barking reached him
only seconds before the two giant dogs leapt across the trail. Jed slid to a halt, his chest heaving as he studied them. They whirled in circles, the barking growing louder and more forceful, then darted down a branch of the trail, stopped, and looked at him expectantly.