Nightingale Way: An Eternity Springs Novel (5 page)

Maybe that was the answer. Maybe her ennui resulted from having done it for eight years. Maybe she was tired of fighting the good fight. Perhaps her efforts to balance the ugliness that her professional life invariably brought into her life by filling her personal life with positive influences simply wasn’t working anymore. Maybe she needed a break.

Money wasn’t a problem for her. Jack had been ridiculously generous in the divorce. She’d worked because she enjoyed it and because except for her volunteer activities, work was all she’d had.

That hadn’t changed.

“Well, maybe that needs to change,” she murmured, idly scratching Peanut behind the ears. Maybe this was her chance. She could sunbathe beside that awesome pool she’d noticed and never go near a computer.

Her mother liked to theorize that Cat had never put
her marriage behind her completely. Cat had denied the charge, and she’d tried to believe it. Hadn’t she dated other men since the split? Hadn’t she had two serious relationships? Deep down inside, though, she’d suspected that her mother might be right.

Not that she’d ever admit that to anyone.

But if she entertained the notion that her mother’s claim did have a basis in fact, then this … abduction … might be just what she needed to finally cut the cord where Jack was concerned. The man’s high-handedness might turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

Feeling better about her world than she had in weeks, Cat relaxed. She dozed for a bit, then awoke slowly, soaking in the sun and drinking in the sound of water crashing over stones, and the comfort of the small dog resting beside her. This was a little piece of paradise, wasn’t it?

When a yellow butterfly danced across the air above her, she watched it until something higher in the sky caught her notice.

The bird was huge, with a wingspan of at least six feet as it soared and circled above the valley. Cat sat up and shielded her eyes with her hand, watching the bird’s majestic presence. Was that an eagle? She wasn’t sure. She’d never seen an eagle in the wild, but since Jack had told her that his estate was named Eagle’s Way, she wouldn’t be surprised.

As she watched, the bird suddenly turned and dived toward the ground. As he came closer, she saw the familiar bald head and decided that yes, he had to be an eagle. How cool was this?

He swooped down upon the meadow and she heard a cry, then he rose with his prey—a rabbit—wiggling in his talons. Cat gave a little shudder, and murmured to Peanut, “I’d better keep a close eye on you whenever we’re outside.”

She turned her attention back to the water, and that’s when she saw him. Jack stood downstream some fifty yards or so with a fly rod in his hands. She watched him work the line with a fluid, artistic grace, and an old, familiar yearning washed through her.

Those hands. Those talented hands. They’d made her body sing like none before and none since.

Suddenly he yanked back on the rod. Color flashed on the surface of the stream as he reeled the rainbow trout in. Once he had the wriggling fish gripped securely in his hand, he looked her way. The predatory triumph in his eyes brought the eagle to mind.

A frisson of apprehension skittered up Cat’s spine. This might be her opportunity, but she was in his territory. She’d best keep watch on more than the sky while she was here at Eagle’s Way.

Jack didn’t make mistakes very often, but when he entered the kitchen to make coffee on the morning of their third day at Eagle’s Way, he feared he’d made a huge one when he decided to bring Cat to Colorado. Being around her stirred up not only his libido, but also regrets. He could deal with the former, but the latter was giving him trouble.

Regrets were a waste of energy. He couldn’t go back and change what had happened, but being around Cat made him entertain thoughts he had denied himself for years. Being around her made him want things he hadn’t wanted since the day he moved out of their house. Knowing that once again she slept beneath his roof had Jack tossing and turning in his bed all night.

He wanted her. He despised her. Dammit, a part of him still loved her. How sad was that?

Still half asleep, he poured coffee beans into the grinder. As the motor whirred, he tried to shake off his grouchy mood.

When Cat stumbled into the kitchen a few moments later looking half asleep herself, they fell into the breakfast-making routine they’d established long ago, then revived on their first morning at Eagle’s Way. Cat set out fruit and yogurt, and while the coffee brewed, Jack made toast. Neither spoke until after they’d tasted
their first sip of coffee—the need for caffeine being something they still shared.

Cat spoke first. “Good morning.”

“G’morning.”

“Any news from Washington?”

He thought of the middle-of-the-night alert he’d received and the subsequent conference call.

In recent years, as kidnapping had become a regular method of commerce in some parts of the world, Jack’s job description had evolved and narrowed. He and his team had become extraction specialists. They mounted rescue missions into places where no one in their right mind wanted to be. They worked under the auspices of the CIA, but Jack didn’t know how much longer that would be the case. Life in the clandestine services wasn’t much fun anymore. Politicians seemed to think they knew more about just about everything than did the people working in the trenches. Every time Jack turned around, they had set up another hoop he had to jump through.

He was about ready to tell the pols just where they could jump.

But this wasn’t the sort of Washington news Cat had asked about. “No,” he told her. “Nothing about your situation yet.”

Not definitively, anyway. Melinda’s concerns about the attack on Cat being a warning to her had just about been eliminated, and the private investigators he’d hired had turned up a couple of promising leads. Nothing was settled, however, so he’d keep those details to himself.

“Peanut needs to be home tonight,” she said as she stabbed a strawberry with her fork.

“She will be.” He slathered orange marmalade onto a piece of toast. “Someone will arrive here by ten to escort her back to her owner.”

“Someone you trust?”

“Yes.” The little girl had nothing to worry about.

They finished breakfast and cleaned up without exchanging another word. Cat took the dog outside to play with a tennis ball. Jack donned sneakers and went for a run. A long run. Physical exhaustion was the best way he’d found to manage the constant tension that resulted from daily interaction with his ex-wife.

Sharing breakfast this morning had been an unhappy reminder of those meals they’d shared—and the ones they had not shared—in the last few months before their split. Those memories rode his shoulders as he ran.

The alarm buzzed and Jack flung an arm out to shut it off. Rolling over, he reached instinctively for his wife … and found nothing but cold sheets
.

Reality returned. He opened his eyes to an empty bed, a lonely marriage, and a hurting heart
.

He sat up and listened to the patter of rain against the roof as he debated whether to reach out to her again or just go about his day. He was almost too weary to try, but this particular morning, loneliness drove him more
.

He knew where he’d find her, so after he pulled on his jeans, he took the short walk from the master bedroom to the room that was a half-completed nursery
.

He stopped just beyond the threshold. Cat sat in the bentwood rocker he’d given her for her birthday. Staring out the window into the gloom of a rainy day, she stroked a receiving blanket decorated with yellow ducks as if it were a pet. Her eyes were hollow and haunted, and he doubted she’d strung together eight hours of sleep in the last week
.

“Hey, honey.”

She didn’t respond, but continued to stare out into the wet, gray morning
.

Frustration rose inside him. He knew she was grieving. He recognized that she was depressed. The doctors had assured him that such a reaction was normal and to
be expected. They’d advised him to give her time and he’d done that. But this … malaise … had gone on for months now and it was beginning to feel like forever
.

Jack was lonely. He was sad. He was more than a little bit angry. He’d lost his child, too. Who had been there for him? Who had comforted him? Certainly not his wife
.

He never claimed to have been as attached to his unborn child as Cat had been, but he didn’t think he was any different from most men in that respect. The fertility treatments had been brutal on them both, and when she finally conceived, he’d been more relieved than excited. But as the weeks and months passed, that had changed. He’d looked forward to having the baby. Losing her had hurt him, too, but he’d never been able to share his pain with Cat because he’d had to be strong for her. Unfortunately, his strength or lack thereof hadn’t seemed to make any difference
.

He closed his eyes, drew in a breath, then tried again. “Cat, I’m going to make omelets for breakfast. Do you want vegetables in yours or just cheese?”

Finally, she turned to look at him. “How can you eat today of all days?”

Today of all days?

“You don’t even know what today is, do you?” she accused, life finally sparking in her eyes as she rose from the rocker and took a step toward him
.

Today? He quickly took stock. Not her birthday. Not their anniversary. Today wasn’t even the date the baby had been due. That date didn’t roll around until next week and he’d been trying to decide how to handle it. At a loss, he said, “I’m sorry, Cat. I don’t know what today is.”

“Today was supposed to be my last day of work at the newspaper. They were going to give me a baby shower today.”

Jack’s lips flattened into a grim line. What was he supposed to say to that? He didn’t have a clue. “Why don’t you come to the kitchen with me. We’ll have a nice breakfast and then maybe we can go to the gym. I’ll bet a yoga class would make you feel better.”

You’d have thought he’d drop-kicked a puppy from the look she gave him. “Go away, Jack. Just … go away.”

Angry now, he did just that. When his work line rang as he finished up his omelet, he didn’t hesitate to volunteer for the trip. Rather than tell her good-bye, he left a note. When he returned seventeen days later, he saw no sign that she’d read it. Or, frankly, even noticed that he’d been gone
.

Running beside the creek that split the heart of the valley that sheltered Eagle’s Way, Jack put on a burst of speed, hoping to outrun the memories. He ran all out, harder and farther than normal, draining away his energy and the tension that hummed through his blood as a result of sharing space with Cat, until he stopped, exhausted and spent. For a moment he leaned over, resting his hands on his knees until his breathing slowed, then he turned and went back to the house at a slow, easy jog.

The run had done him good. He felt more relaxed now than at any time since he’d heard the news about the fire at Cat’s house.

He arrived back at the house just in time to see his ex-wife exit the pool house in a one-piece bathing suit.

Jack’s tension came roaring back.

After her swim and her shower, Cat settled down to work in the sunroom at Eagle’s Way. A box of her belongings had arrived yesterday, gathered and shipped to her by her father. As she booted up her laptop, she also tried to stir up some enthusiasm to begin research on a new investigation to follow up the dogfight ring story.

The day after the Molotov cocktail exploded in her dining room, she’d written a post explaining what had happened and announcing a temporary hiatus from her blog. She spent almost an hour answering email—carefully, so as not to give away any details about her location—then turned her attention to her next project—whatever that would be.

She always kept a running file of ideas and possibilities so she had somewhere to start. She pulled up the file and scrolled through it. Nothing called to her, so she moved on to surfing an Internet shoe store when Jack knocked on the sunroom’s open door. “Sorry to interrupt, but I want to let you know that we’re having guests for lunch. Some friends of mine are bringing their twin daughters for a swim.”

“Oh.” She looked up from her computer. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll grab a sandwich and stay in my room.”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d join us. I think you’ll like the Callahans.” He paused, and when she didn’t immediately reply, added, “Please join us, Cat. If nothing else, spending time with them will give the two of us something to talk about once they’re gone. Maybe it will help us avoid so many awkward silences.”

The man had a point. “All right. Do you need help with lunch?”

“No, thanks. Nic is bringing it with her.” Jack hesitated, then watched her closely as he added, “I know Gabe through work. He stayed here at Eagle’s Way a few years ago when he was going through some tough personal times. His first wife was killed in an auto accident, and their son died of his injuries months later. Gabe stayed up here at Eagle’s Way for a while afterward.”