Mystic Memories (20 page)

Read Mystic Memories Online

Authors: Gillian Doyle,Susan Leslie Liepitz

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Time Travel, #Psychics

BOOK: Mystic Memories
6.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Arriving at the cave, he first checked with Cara about Bud’s condition, then collected the wood shavings to start the fire at the base of the embankment. Once it was burning nicely, he hunkered down on the slope, his back to the cave. Using his knife, he shaved a long stick into a pointed skewer.

In the distance a coyote yipped. Another answered. Closer still, an owl hooted. The nocturnal sounds seemed to signal the start of a very long night.

Cara looked up when Blake entered the cave, blocking the minimal amount of firelight from below. It looked as if he had something in his hand, possibly a stick. But she couldn’t be sure. Then a delicious smell reached her.

“I brought something for you to eat. And for Bud, if he can manage it.”

“We can try to feed him. I don’t know if he’ll keep it down.”

“Here,” he offered, thrusting a warm piece of meat into her mouth. Her muffled protest prompted his quick apology. “My eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness.”

“You’re lucky it tastes good.”

“And if it hadn’t?”

“You’d be wearing it”

“I guess I am lucky, at that. Have another.” This time he was more careful, giving it to her gingerly. Her lips closed around the meat, brushing the tips of his fingers, distracting her terribly.

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded too breathless, too husky.

Bud stirred beside her. His panting started again.

“Should we give him some of this?” asked Blake.

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea yet.” She reached for her shoe. Realizing the last of the water had seeped out, she asked Blake if he would fetch more. He took the shoe and started to leave. “And more of that—What kind of meat is it?”

Just before he slipped out, he answered, “Rattlesnake.”


What?

Her raised voice brought Bud’s wobbly head up. When she touched him reassuringly, he lay back down. She swore under her breath, ready to strangle Blake as soon as he crawled back inside the cave. Of all the dirty, rotten, low-down tricks to play on somebody! If she hadn’t been so distracted by his finger feeding, she might have realized exactly what he’d been serving her. And she certainly wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as she had.

She recalled a wilderness adventure in the Mojave Desert when Mark had tried to coax her into trying snake meat. He’d warned her there might come a day when she would be forced to rely on whatever the land could provide, be it insects or worms or, if she was lucky enough, rattlesnakes. A shudder of disgust rippled through her. Lucky! Ha!

Tastes like chicken
, he’d told her.
Everything
tasted like chicken to him, including the fried frog’s legs he’d ordered in a restaurant. As far as she was concerned, amphibians and reptiles simply were not in the food chain for human consumption. Not like chickens, anyway.

But then again . . . If she had to admit it—which she would never do—the roasted meat wasn’t half bad. And since she’d lost her lunch over that damn rattlesnake, it almost seemed like poetic justice to have it served up for dinner. Almost.

In the dim flicker of indirect light, she stroked Bud’s black coat. A moment later, Blake came back into the cave with the water. Putting aside her remaining pique over his mean trick, she helped him urge the dog to drink.

“He should be moved farther inside for the night,” Blake suggested. “That way I will be near the opening in the event we should have any unwelcome visitors.”

Cara agreed and helped Blake lift the weakened Lab, placing him on his side with his legs toward the back wall. By the time Bud went back to sleep, the small fire had died down considerably, leaving them in darkness.

“I hope he makes it,” he said with tender sadness. His hand accidentally bumped hers as they both petted the panting dog. Through his touch, she felt the depth of his emotions.

“I know how hard it is to watch someone in pain, whether it’s a person or an animal.” Her remark was met with his silence. “He’ll pull through, Blake. I believe it.”

“But do you
know
it?”

“Right now, I can’t say for sure, one way or the other. Which is why I have to rely on faith that Bud will live.

Sometimes believing is the only thing you have.”

“For you, perhaps. Not for me,” he said bitterly. “I do not assume that everything will work out well if only I believe it will. That’s rubbish.”

“You have every right to feel the way you do. Especially after what happened to you—”

“Don’t bring up my forgotten past again, Cara. At least not tonight.”

“I understand.”

The awkwardness between them was palpable. She needed an excuse to put some distance between them. Groping in the dark for her soggy shoes, she found one and put it on.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to get my shoes so I can go outside one last time before calling it a night.”

“But they’re wet.”

“No kidding,” she deadpanned, feeling around for her second shoe. Her hand ran into his leg.

“That’s not your shoe.”

“Two for two. I’m impressed,” she groused, the heat of her body climbing ten degrees. “How about helping me find the other one?”

“Here it is.”

“Where? I can’t see a thing. It’s pitch-black in here now.”

“No kidding,” mimicked Blake, his hand making contact with her upper arm, then sliding down to her hand and putting her shoe in it

“The blind leading the blind.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No, that’s okay. I prefer the privacy.”

“And you shall have it when you need it. Until then, you will have me with you.”

“Fine. Play Sir Galahad, if it suits you.”

Several minutes later, when they came back to the cave, Blake insisted on adding more branches to the glowing embers so he could have a makeshift torch to check inside the cave for extra guests, such as a relative to their dinner.

Realizing that another snake might be spending the night with her, Cara was more than glad to wait until the coast was clear.

After Blake came out and gave a nod of all-clear, Cara climbed the four-foot slope and crawled in behind the dog, near the back. Slipping off her shoes, she handed them over one last time for the night so Blake could fill them for Bud.

When they finished the routine, he bid Cara good night, saying he wanted to sit by the fire a little longer. In a way she was relieved by his decision. The tiny cave was going to make sleeping arrangements more than cozy. At least if he stayed outside for a while, she might be able to doze off before he stretched out next to her. If she was lucky, maybe she wouldn’t even notice his return.

Fat chance
.

Cara didn’t know how long she might have slept or if in fact she’d fallen asleep at all. But she knew the moment Blake came to bed down for the night. Her entire body went on alert at the sound of him making his way up the embankment. He squeezed into the narrow space between her and the two boulders at the entrance of the cave. She had stretched out alongside the dog, her arm slung over him, using herself as a human heater to keep him warm in the cool coastal air.

With muffled grunts, Blake attempted to settle onto his back. When his elbow dug into her waist, she bit down on her lower lip to keep from making any noise that would let him know she was awake. He ended up shifting to his side, spooning his body with hers. The warmth of his breath caressed her neck. Her entire back, bottom, and legs tingled, sending messages to her brain that she tried to ignore.

As his arm slid over her, she kept her breathing steady, wondering where his hand was leading. But then he reached over and petted his dog. At first she wanted to laugh at herself for the mistaken assumption that Blake had been making a move on her when he’d actually been trying to get to his dog. But the humor quickly dissipated as she realized the poignancy of his need to connect with the critically ill animal.

Unable to hold her silence any longer, she quietly offered, “We can switch places so you can sleep next to him.”

“No, I prefer to stay here. That is, if you don’t mind my reaching over you every so often to check on Bud.”

“I don’t mind at all.” She wanted her body to stop reacting to this man. This was not the time to be thinking about sex. Blake was in a miserable place right now, grieving for his beloved pet. In her mind, she felt his emotional pain. Yet her body was feeling entirely different things that were not at all appropriate, given the circumstances. Refusing to act on her impulses, she closed her eyes and inwardly sighed. “Good night, Blake.”

“Good night, Cara.”

Blake had not slept at all during the entire night. Several times, he’d gotten up to tend the fire while the coyotes barked and howled from a good distance. Each time he’d returned to the cave, he had managed to fit into the tight space next to Cara, though with great difficulty. Once he woke her to ask if they should give Bud more water, which they did, then settled back down for the rest of the night.

Now as he lay on his side, with Cara fitted against the front of him, he noticed the soft light of dawn beginning to dispel the darkness of the cave. He wanted to get up and stretch his sore muscles, which had been cramped into the same position most of the night. But he was reluctant to leave the warmth of Cara’s body. He liked having her tucked under his protective arm. His hand was no longer resting on Bud. Instead, it was precariously close to her breast.

Cara stirred, murmuring something incomprehensible as if she were having a dream. Her back arched slightly, enough to bring her small breast against the knuckles of his curled fingers. She responded in her sleep with a soft sound of pleasure. Her bottom pressed into his groin. A slow heat began to stiffen him.

Damn
. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up right now. He attempted to pull back so she couldn’t feel his full arousal, but there was no room behind him.

“Blake?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

There was no point in pretending he wasn’t. Sooner or later he needed to do something about his predicament, which was not going to solve itself by feigning sleep.

“Yes,” he said in a raspy voice, managing to sound somewhat groggy.

“It’s morning.”

He smiled at her astute observation. “No kidding.” After his teasing remark, he waited for a jab of her elbow in his ribs to chastise him for mocking her. It never came. Instead, she reached out and placed her hand on Bud’s ribs.

Other books

Galahad at Blandings by P.G. Wodehouse
First Dawn by Judith Miller
Where the Rain Gets In by Adrian White
Peter and Veronica by Marilyn Sachs
A Fountain Filled With Blood by Julia Spencer-Fleming
Delivered with Love by Sherry Kyle
Silver Wedding by Maeve Binchy
Complicated Shadows by Graham Thomson