Crash Into You (12 page)

             
She no longer had any idea what career she wanted, what food she enjoyed, what she wanted from life.  The hardest part was realizing she in charge of it.  She could have stopped it.  She didn’t have to bend and become a pushover with no will of her own.  But she did to keep the peace.

             
He should have gotten a goddamn maid, she thought with sudden anger.   It was unfamiliar to actually feel anger – or anything else – and it invigorated her.  Made her feel strangely powerful.

             
Something about being here with Mark at Spanner Ranch was liberating.   She could feel anger or joy or pain, and there were no dire repercussions for her emotions.  She felt free here, the way she expected to feel when she finally got to Portland.  Like anything was possible. 

             
Downstairs, streamers of bright clear sunlight filled the living room.    Beyond the aspens in the front of the house, she could see Mark grooming one of the horses while May sniffed in the grass outside the confines of the paddock.    Mark’s tall, big physique momentarily entranced her.   His easy grace and strength was a pleasure to behold.

             
Opening the door, cool, flower-scented mountain air greeted her.   Crisp and fresh, unlike DC’s tropical humidity.   She sighed with pleasure.    

After a moment, he looked up and waved at her.

May ran at full speed over to her and Aimee bent down to pet her, then together they wandered over to Mark.

             
“Good morning,” he said with a smile.  “You look like you’re feeling better today.”

             
“I am.  Must be all this fresh mountain air.  And the fact that you’re a great doctor.”  She smiled up at him, taken by his masculine good looks.  He hadn’t shaved this morning and his cheeks were shadowed with fine stubble.  His hair was mussed by the Montana breeze, glinting gold in the bright sunlight.  He looked positively delectable.

             
To divert herself from that line of thinking, she turned her attention to the tawny, golden horse, squared against the endless sky.   Her mane and long tail were nearly white with a beautiful flaxen lustre.  Her proud, even regal bearing, was absolutely appropriate for such a grand horse.

“She is breathtaking,” Aimee said, and gently pet her finely arched neck.  Her coat was silky soft and warm from the sun.

              “This is Bess.  She’s a palomino.  Do you ride?”

             
“I never have.  But it was one of those things I always promised myself I would learn to do.”

             
“When you’re completely healed, I’ll teach you.”

             
She smiled, genuinely happy at the thought.    “That would be nice.”  

“How is your rib?”

“Getting better.   No breathing problems.”

“Excellent.  Your laparoscopy sites are healing up?”

“Yes.  No infection, nothing.  I’m officially on the mend.”

             
“That’s great news.  So besides riding, what else is on your bucket list?” He asked as he picked up some sugar cubes for Bess.

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“Your bucket list?  Things you want to do before you kick the bucket.”

             
She laughed, though she did feel like she’d come perilously close to doing just that and it had not been a laughing matter.

             
“Um… I want to learn to ski.”

             
“You didn’t ski in Boise?  Home of Bogus Mountain, practically right there downtown?”

             
“Oh… I … I was too scared, you see.   I’ve been scared to do most things I want to do.  But I’m trying to change that.   So skiing is on the list.”

             
“Okay what else?”

“I’d like to travel.”

              “That’s always a good thing to do.”

             
“I’d like to…”  She tried to think.   It was difficult to remember back to a time when she had an ambition to be a well-rounded person.  “I’d like to teach yoga and pilates.”

             
“That should be a pretty easy one to accomplish.  Have you taught before?”

             
“I worked my way through college teaching yoga and pilates.  I loved it.  Then I just … gave it up, I guess.”

             
He looked at her with a little frown, like he was trying to detect something about her from that statement.  It made her nervous.  She picked up a sugar cube.  “Can I feed it to her?”

             
“Sure.”

             
She held out her hand and the horse nuzzled into her hand, then rather primly took the sugar cube.

             
The younger filly cautiously approached, apparently attracted by the free sugar cubes.  Aimee sighed.  “I’m in love.”

             
Mark laughed.  “She was born this spring.   All of these beauties belong to a friend who is out of town visiting family.  I’ve actually taken a shine to her too.”

             
“What’s her name?”

             
“I haven’t named her.  I didn’t think it would be right.”

             
“Hm.  Well maybe I’ll call her Miss America. Just between us so she doesn’t get confused.”

             
“Do I dare ask why you want to call her Miss America?”

             
“Doesn’t she look like one of those impossibly spoiled pageant babies?  Sort of like Jonbenet Ramsey?  All blonde and prancy?”

             
Mark chuckled, low and sexy.  “I suppose when you put it that way…”

             
Aimee fed Miss America a sugar cube.

“
I need to go into town today.  Do you need anything?”

             
“Maybe I can come with you?”

             
He looked surprised.   “Really?”

             
“If you don’t want me to…”

             
“That would be great.  If you’re up for it, I can show you around.”

             
Doubt squeezed her. It was foolish to show her face around town, but that wasn’t the only reason for her hesitation. She was becoming a little too happy around Mark.  A little too happy to allow herself to be cared for, which made her feel weak.   She could not get in the same situation she had been with Seth.  She could never allow a man to determine her destiny again.  Independence was still out of her grasp, but very soon she would have it and then she would never let it go.

             
But he was drilling her with those gray eyes, making her feel like she was the only woman in the world.   And it was only a quick trip to a small town, not some grand gesture of possession.

             
“You really want to be seen with me?”  She asked, pointing to her eye, which still wore a slight cast of mauve.

             
He looked closely at it.  “It’s looking better.”

             
“But I still look like hell.”

             
“No you don’t,” he said softly.  He looked directly at her.  “You look really pretty.” He said it so honestly, without attempt to flatter her, that Aimee felt a wave of sweetness sweep over her.  Color warmed her cheeks.

             
A gentle breeze sent strands of hair across her face.  Grateful for the distraction, she reached up and tried to tuck them back into place, forcing herself to look him in the eye.  “Thanks,” she stammered.   “Okay, yes, I guess we could do that.”

             
“Great, just give me a few minutes to finish up with Bess.”

“
Would be okay if I used your computer in the meantime?   I’d like to send an email.”

             
“Sure.  I’ll be in a few minutes.”

Mark’s office was richly masculine, even more so than the rest of the house.  The only thing that looked personal was a photograph on the credenza.  Aimee picked it up.   Four people were in a bar, squeezed together in a band of congeniality.   Two men who looked like his brothers were on his left.   To Mark’s right was a stop-your-heart pretty strawberry blonde woman wearing a red sweater.  Former girlfriend? 
Current
girlfriend? 

             
Aimee shook the thought out of her head.  That was
so none of her business
.

             
Aimee set the photo down and settled at the massive cherrywood desk where Mark’s laptop was already on.  She navigated to Gmail and nervously tapped the desk while it loaded.   A wave of panic threatened to make her scream when she saw a message from Seth.  With trembling fingers, she clicked it open.

             
Wherever you are, I will find you.  You have my money, bitch.  I will get it back.

             
Oh God.  He didn’t think she was dead.   Had he not put two and two together yet and realized she was on Flight 134?

             
She glanced back out the window, seeing Mark carry some equipment back to the barn.  How she would have loved to confess everything to him at that moment.  Instead, she turned back to the computer and deleted the hateful email.

             
In a new email, she typed in her neighbor Bryan’s address.

             
Dear Bryan,

             
I must continue to ask for your complete discretion.  I can’t call my sister because I do not want her to know where I am.  It is safer for both her and me like this.   If Seth tries to get it out of her, she’ll not have anything to tell him.   I’m afraid to call her because he has always told me he can tap any phone in the world and I do not want him to find me.  But I wonder if you might call her for me, and tell her that I am okay and I will call her as soon as I can.  Her number is 503.343.0988. I am safe. I am just desperately afraid of Seth.    Thank you for all you have done.

Love to you and Jake.

- Aimee

Kimberly would still worry, of course.  But at least she wouldn’t have to think her sister died in a plane crash.   It was the only comfort and reassurance she could offer Kimberly right now.

             
“Hey.”

             
She looked up, catching her breath at the vision of Mark slouching against the doorframe of his office.  His strong, muscled body was backlit by the sun, and for a second she could imagine him as a cowboy in a Stetson.   The masculine energy wafted from him like heat off a stove.

             
“What’s funny?”  He asked when he saw her smile.  One side of his mouth lifted into that knee-weakening half grin.

             
“Nothing,” she said quickly, trying to cover her reaction to him.  She stood up. 

             
He slit his eyes playfully at her.  “You okay?”

             
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”  She was aware her voice sounded a little higher than normal.   Her nerves were jangled from Seth’s email, and her heart was still pounding with fear.  

             
“All right.  Give me fifteen minutes and we’ll head to town.”

             
She followed him out of the office and watched his butt as his long strides took him upstairs.  She waited a few seconds, enough time for him to get to the shower, then crept as quickly as she could to the front door.   May followed.  Aimee slowly creaked it open.  “You wait here, May,” she whispered.

             
May tilted her head like the RCA record label dog.   

             
“Sorry, sweetheart.  I have to do this alone.”

             
She slipped out of the house and quietly shut the door behind her.   She hurried across the grass and into the enclave of the barn. It smelled of leather and hay and animals.  In the light of day, it also looked much nicer than it had when she sneaked in the middle of the night, wounded and terrified. 

In a dark corner where
hay bales were stacked, she reached down into a crevice and grabbed a canvas strap.  It was a blue gym bag full of cash.  It had been tangled around her feet when she awoke after the crash.  She had picked it up and carried it with her.

The bills were loose.  With quick fingers, she counted out
a thousand dollars and stuck it in the pocket of he new North Face windbreaker that Mark bought for her.   Shoving the bag back into its hiding nook, she covered it with hay.  It was safe.  There was no reason for Mark to come looking for anything over here. 

             
When she returned to the house, May was waiting at the door.  “Such a good dog,” she said and gave her a little scratch behind the ears.  “Let’s see if Mark has some treats for you.  Maybe a biscuit?”