Dancing on the Wind (32 page)

“Any other instructions, Mom?” he grumbled as he lifted the bag and slung it over

his shoulder.

“Be nice to her.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be as nice as I know how to be.”

“I mean it, Robbie. She’s afraid of you so don’t get all hard-assed on her. Okay?”

“Afraid of me?” he said with a blink. “Why the hell would she be afraid of me?”

Bolivar’s left eyebrow shot up. “I believe she said something like, ‘I ain’t got nothin’

agin him but Mr. Robbie, he don’t look right to me.’”

He snorted. “Yeah, well, that could mean she thinks I’m crazy,” he scoffed, “and

apparently I am to be driving her up to Coon Balls, Kentucky.”

“She meant she’s afraid of you. Nate says I don’t see you looking at her but I do.

You’re always scowling at her. Why do you do that?”

“I don’t. You’re seeing things,” he said, and walked past her out of the bedroom.

“Just be nice to her, Robbie. Please? For me?”

He ignored her as he went out the door and into the hot, humid night. Spying one

of the young male workers, he told him to fetch Ollie. “Tell him to bring Mother

Bolivar’s car keys with him. I’ll be needing it tonight.”

The young man’s eyes widened. “You’re gonna drive it?” he questioned.

“Just do what I told you, Spivey. Now!” Fallon snapped. He was anxious to get on

the road, to be alone at last with Keenan. His palms were sweating he was so excited

and striving hard to conceal it. The moment he saw Keenan coming toward him, his

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heart slammed hard against his chest but he managed to turn his back on her and keep

walking toward the bunkhouse motor home where the car was being hauled.

Ollie came jogging up, glancing at Bolivar to make sure it was all right to drive her

car off the hauler.

“There isn’t much gas in the tank, is there, Oll?” Bolivar asked.

“No, ma’am,” Ollie replied as he began to unfasten the rear ramp door. “Don’t like

to transport it with its tank full. Ain’t safe.”

“I’ll fill up before we leave,” Fallon said, and turned to look at Keenan. “You’ve had

supper haven’t you?”

“Yes sir,” she said as she came to stand a few feet away.

Breslin was standing beside her, his face tight, eyes narrowed. The look he shot

Fallon was filled with venom. “You’d best be respectful of my sister, Marks,” he said in

a harsh tone.

“Or what?” Fallon asked. “You gonna spread some more shit about me?”

“Cool it. Both of you,” Bolivar reprimanded them.

“Thank you for allowing me to go to the funeral, ma’am,” Keenan said, deliberately

putting herself between the two men who were glaring daggers at one another. “I really

appreciate it.”

Bolivar smiled and reached out to hug Keenan. “You just take care and hurry back.”

She shook a finger at Keenan. “And don’t come back to us speaking mountain twang,

okay?”

Keenan laughed. “No, ma’am. I won’t.”

They all moved back as Ollie turned the car on and the brake lights pulsed. When

the ex-carney drove the sports car out of the hauler, Fallon rapped on the trunk, Ollie

hit the interior trunk release and the lid popped up. He tossed in his overnight bag then

turned to take Keenan’s from her.

“You watch yourself, girl,” Breslin growled.

“Don’t worry none, bubba,” Fallon sneered. “She’s safer with me than she’ll ever be

with you.”

“Prick,” Breslin spat.

“Asswipe,” Fallon returned as he traded places with Ollie behind the wheel.

Keenan hurried around to the passenger side and smiled at Fallon as he leaned over

the console to push the door open for her.

“Put your seat belt on,” Fallon said.

She started to reach for the seat-belt strap behind her but stopped, realizing Tandy

wouldn’t know about such things since the old car in which she’d arrived had only a

lap belt. She slid her hand behind her as though searching for the lap belt.

“On the door,” Fallon said. “Just pull it across you.”

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Keenan gave him a bewildered look though her eyes were twinkling. “Sir?” she

questioned.

With a heavy, put-upon sigh, Fallon unsnapped his own and leaned over—his

shoulder brushing her breast as he retrieved the belt and tugged it across her body,

pushed the tongue down into the cable buckle then straightened.

“Like that,” he informed her.

“Oh all right,” she said sweetly. “Thank you, Mr. Robbie.”

“You be welcome and such, Miss Tandy,” he said in a twangy voice, and heard her

trying to stifle a giggle.

As he backed away from the small group of people gathered behind the bunkhouse

motor home, he saw Roland among them, watching every move he made. It occurred to

him the car might be bugged with some kind of listening device—not to mention a GPS

tracker—and he frowned. Reaching over, he switched on the radio, turning it as loud as

was humanly possible to endure. He was aware of Keenan staring at him and he shook

his head slightly. When he found a convenience store far enough away from the

caravan, he pulled in and switched off the radio.

“Did you say you had to pee?” he asked.

Keenan pursed her lips. “No sir. I said I had to wee.”

“Then get ’er done while I’m pumping the gas,” he said, motioning for her to go

inside the convenience store.

“Yes sir,” she replied, and opened her door.

“And don’t wander off!” he called out to her, sending her a mental image of

standing by the drink coolers.

After he’d filled up the car, he pulled over in front of the store and went in, passing

Keenan who was meandering along the candy aisle. He went into the restroom and

when he came out, she was standing at the coolers as though trying to decide which soft

drink she wanted.

“We’re going to have to change cars,” he said in a low voice as he opened the cooler

door and took out a root beer. “There’s a GPS on this one and it damned sure needs to

go to Kentucky.”

“How are we going to do that?” she asked, pointing to a bottle of raspberry tea.

“I need to call the Exchange and have them meet us where I-55 meets up with I-40.

Someone else is going to have to drive this baby up to Regis Cove. I’ll have them fly us

down to Albany or we won’t get there in time. That is where the funeral is going to be,

isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I need to stop somewhere and call my mother to let her know I’m coming

or she’ll be hounding them at HQ.”

“We’ll do that once we’re on the road,” he said, and motioned her toward the

checkout counter as though impatient with her.

“I don’t think anyone’s watching us, lineman,” she mumbled.

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“I hope not,” he said, “but once we get back in the car, we can transmit without

having to worry about it being intercepted.”

She nodded.

Once more on the road, he seemed to relax. They were far enough along I-55 that

there were no overhead lights to illuminate the interior of the car and no vehicles

following them. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.

“
I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe
,” he told her.

“
Oh yes, I would
,” she admitted. “
I’ve felt the same way
.”

He glanced over at her. “
You wait until we’re in bed again and I’ll show you how much I

missed you,
myneeast caillagh.”

Keenan tightened her fingers around his as he kissed her hand again, lowering it to

rest on his thigh. He was quiet for a moment, but when he sent her his next thought, she

could hear the anguish in it.

“Never again, Keenan,”
he said
. “Never with another woman. It hurt too much.”

“I know.”

“Then what’s worrying you? I can feel your anxiety.”

“It’s not you, lineman. It’s me. As much as I loved Aunt Marjie, I dread seeing my mother

even if it’s only for the funeral. She’s going to make the whole thing about her. She always does.”

“I’ll be right there with you,”
he said then hissed.

“What?”

“I’ll need a suit. Remind me to tell Jonas to go to my quarters and pick up a suit. He can

have whoever is going to fly us down to Albany bring it with him.”
He took his left hand off

the steering wheel and mimicked talking.

Keenan understood. “I really appreciate you doing this, Mr. Robbie,” she said

aloud.

Fallon smiled. “Yeah, well, why don’t you try to get some sleep? It’s gonna be a

long night.”

“And you don’t want me disturbing you,” she said in a forlorn voice.

“I don’t like jabbering when I’m on the road,” he said. “That’s why I drive a bike.”

“All right, sir. I’ll leave you alone.”

“
I hope not
.”

“
Wait until I get
you
in bed
,” Keenan purred.

* * * * *

They were at a large, busy truck stop just south of the Tennessee border. It was well

past midnight but Keenan had insisted on calling her mother and getting it out of the

way. Fallon was standing outside one of the phone booths, leaning against the

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doorjamb with his arms crossed. He knew the exact moment the phone call was

answered on the other end for Keenan’s jaw clenched.

“Hello, Mama,” she said then sat there with her features tight, lips pursed as her

mother apparently berated her. When she spoke again, he noticed her voice was softer

than he’d ever heard it.

“I am on an assignment, Mama. Didn’t Zack tell you?”

A long pause.

“Well, then you know I can’t just drop what I’m doing and call you right back.

That’s not the kind of job I have.”

Another long pause and Fallon watched the knuckles of her right hand turn white

from the force with which she was gripping the phone.

“I
am
on my way home to Albany, Mama. I should be there after lunchtime

tomorrow. When is the rosary going to be…?”

The longest pause, and when Keenan’s head lowered, he put a hand on her

shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“Yes, Mama, I know she loved me. I loved her too.”

He saw Keenan’s head come up and there were two bright spots of color in her

cheeks.

“
No
, he’s not with me! Why the heck would you think he would be?”

A very short pause then Keenan shot to her feet.

“Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow at the rosary.”

Just a second before she slammed the receiver on the hook, Fallon distinctly heard

the voice at the other end yelling for her not to hang up.

“Rosary is at 6 p.m. Let’s go,” Keenan said, shoving past him, her shoulders

hunched.

He had to run to catch up with her.

“That bad?”

“Yeah,” she snapped. “That bad.”

* * * * *

Fallon handed over the keys of the BMW to the young woman who would be

driving it to Regis Cove. He received instructions from her on which number to call so a

phone call from Georgia would be routed through the Cove and then down to

Louisiana. Since there was only one phone at the Cove, the Exchange was in control of

the landline. After driving them to the airfield where a Lear jet was awaiting them, the

driver bid them a safe trip and said she’d meet them back there on Tuesday.

Once the jet was airborne and the seat belt sign was off, Fallon took Keenan’s hand

and led her through the plane, ignoring the attendant, and to the restroom. Closing and

locking the door behind him.

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“I couldn’t wait,” he said, grabbing the skirt of her dress and jerking it upward.

“And you said I was impatient,” she said, fumbling with her bra as he unbuttoned

his jeans, shot the zipper down then shoved her panties down her legs.

“You are impatient,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her to lift her. Those

sweet long legs of hers going around him to clamp tightly about his waist. He wedged

his hand between their bodies and guided himself into her velvety warmth, backing her

against the lavatory, thrusting upward with a long, hard arch of his pelvis.

“Ah, Fallon,” she moaned, her arms draped around his neck, pulling his mouth to

hers.

Their tongues collided just as their lower bodies were doing. He growled low in his

throat with every push into her hot body. She was like a velvet glove clenching his cock,

sliding down it, pulsing around it, and he was a man possessed as he drove into her.

His legs were like steel pistons and he bounced her on his shaft, grinding against her,

thrusting into her so powerfully she grunted with each push.

He tore his mouth from hers to press his lips to her throat. He wasn’t even aware he

was sinking his fangs into the soft muscle at the side of her neck until he tasted her

blood. By then it was too late to stop and the climax that spiraled out of control shot

through his body like lava from an erupting volcano. As soon as her sheath began to

undulate, vibrate around him, he bucked against her violently, drawing her essence

deep into his mouth, swallowing convulsively.

Keenan was aware of what he was doing. She had felt the sting as the sharpness

pierced her flesh, but it seemed right. It seemed natural that he feed from her. Though

her head swam and she felt weak, she knew he would not take more than he should