Authors: Sharon Sala
She watched in
wide-eyed silence while he seemed to struggle with some overwhelming emotion,
and wondered as she watched, why he had so suddenly stopped. Finally she could
no longer wait, and gently ventured a touch on his leg and hand.
"King?"
she began, but was never allowed to finish.
Jesse's voice
startled King. It brought him back to reality with a painful jolt.
"Hellfire,"
he muttered. "I completely forgot why I was looking for you."
He rolled off the
bed with one motion, and stood silently, holding out his hand for her to join
him.
Jesse blinked in
confusion, and then reached upward. King gently pulled her from his bed.
"What?"
she asked, trying to make sense of the mixed signals she was receiving from King.
Then she couldn't mask the shudder as he spoke.
"The sheriff
is here with the tape, Jesse. He needs for you to take a look at the suspect.
Come on, honey. They're waiting for us in the den."
"Just give
me a minute," she mumbled, and started toward her room. "Oh,"
she added, trying to blink away the tears in her eyes. "You didn't have to
break the news to me so gently, King." Jesse had deciphered his actions as
nothing more than gentle consideration. "I'm not going to fall apart
again. I promise."
King stood in
stunned silence and let Jesse walk away. He felt unable to move or speak. He
didn't know whether to be glad or sorry that she'd misinterpreted what had just
happened on his bed. Finally, all he could do was curse himself roundly and
hurry to the waiting group in the den.
SIX
Night sounds kept
teasing at Jesse's concentration as she fought the sheet twisted around her
legs. She'd spent every moment since her head touched the pillow trying
uselessly to block out the image of the man on the videotape. Her mental state
upon entering the den had not been the best, thanks to what had—or had
not—transpired between her and King. She watched the first few frames of the
video without actually seeing anything.
Suddenly the man
in question had turned and the camera caught him full face. Jesse gasped loudly
and took a few steps backward in shocked recognition.
"It's
him," she cried, and turned around wildly in the partially darkened room,
half expecting him to materialize.
King had been
carefully watching her face for signs of recognition. He knew the moment Jesse
connected with the image before her. He saw her panic and caught her backward
progress before hysteria had time to set in.
Jesse was
frantic. Her frightened blue eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she grabbed King
by the forearms, trying to shake him into believing her.
"King! It's
him. I know it! That's the man who tried to kill me!"
"Are you
certain, Jesse?" the sheriff asked. "You couldn't possibly be
mistaken?"
"No!"
she shouted, and shrugged out of King's protective grasp. "I saw that man
as 'up close and personal' as I’ve ever seen anyone in my life." Then her
voice lost it's sarcasm and the adrenaline in her system began to subside.
"You don't quickly forget the man who tries to kill you, Sheriff. You've
got to tell Captain Shockey. They've got to find him! Find him quick! Then I'll
be safe. Then he won't hurt me
...
or
anyone else again."
She sank limply
onto the arm of an easy chair and buried her face in her hands. "Turn off
the tape. I can't look anymore."
"I'll make
the call from here," the sheriff said, gesturing toward the phone on
King's desk.
In a matter of
minutes, after passing on Jesse's confirmation to the St. Louis police department,
the sheriff also discovered they already had a name and address for the man in
the video. They had simply been waiting for Jesse's verification before getting
a search and arrest warrant. The phone call was short, the news something of a
relief. Finally a name and a face had been added to the case.
"Wiley
Lynch," Jesse muttered. "A man named Wiley Lynch tried to kill
me." She turned away from her stance by the window and asked poignantly of
no one in particular, "Why?"
Maggie looked
away, unable to find words to help Jesse.
King started
toward her but was stopped by a look from Jesse as she quickly turned away,
unwilling to see the pity on their faces. She stumbled from the den.
Jesse heard the
sheriff leave and heard Maggie and King's hushed voices. She knew they were
talking about her, and quietly slipped out the back door. She'd had enough
turmoil for one day. She had let herself believe that King actually felt
something for her. Then, after discovering he was only trying to break the news
of the sheriff's arrival as gently as possible, her world had fallen the rest
of the way in on top of her. The sight of the man who'd tried to kill her was
the final touch to an otherwise horrendous day.
She sought solace
in Turner's company and actually found herself enjoying the evening chores that
she helped him finish. He didn't know what had just transpired, and treated
her as if everything in her life was back to normal. It was just what she
needed. King and Maggie hovered too much, although she knew it was done out of
love. There was only so much sheltering possible. Part of this nightmare was
for Jesse alone.
Getting through
the awkward silences during dinner wore her out. Jesse quickly excused herself
and left King and Maggie to themselves. She didn't want any help and she didn't
want to talk to King. Finally she'd given up trying to outwait the sunrise and
gone to bed. But sleep wouldn't come.
Jesse kicked the
sheet from her legs in frustration and sat straight up in bed. She leaned over,
turned on the table lamp, and ran her fingers roughly through her hair. She
couldn't sleep and she wasn't seeking solace in King's arms, or in his bed,
again. There was only so much she could endure, and the limit was imminent.
In a matter of
seconds, she'd slipped out of her night shirt, into a pair of old gym shorts,
and a tattered midriff-length T-shirt. She had to get some air. Maybe then her
mind would slow down and let her get some rest. Jesse started toward the door
and then stopped. She walked back to her closet and pulled out a pair of canvas
deck shoes.
"Not at
night, Jesse girl," she said to herself, unwilling to chance stepping on a
scorpion or a snake, both common
She walked
quickly and quietly through the house, sure of her direction and destination
because of years and years of past residence, and because Maggie never
re-arranged furniture.
The screen door
squeaked just a bit as Jesse slipped outside the back door. She stood on the
porch, inspecting the moonlit yard and shadows for things that didn't belong
there. Satisfied that all was as it should be, she stepped off the porch and
sighed in satisfaction as a faint, but steady breeze lifted the hair from her
neck.
King awoke,
sudden and swift, and lay silently for several seconds, trying to determine
what, if anything, had called him from his tangled dreams. He listened, half
expecting to hear sounds coming from Jesse's room. And then, when another faint
but familiar sound filtered into his room, he hit the floor running, grabbing
pants and boots in succession.
Jesse's room was
empty. He pulled on his jeans and boots, stopping only long enough to stomp
first one boot and then the other on sockless feet. He recognized the sound
he'd heard. It was the squeaky hinge on the back door. Where in hell was she
going?
Jesse had been so
withdrawn since the sheriff's arrival it was beginning to worry him. He feared
that the stress she kept suffering would cause another flashback, or some
other kind of set-back. He didn't know how to help her. She wouldn't talk and
she wouldn't let him touch her.
But he feared it
wasn't all due to the arrival of the tape. King also feared that his waking her
and then actually crawling into bed with her had either frightened or repulsed
her. He didn't know whether to say anything, or just let it pass. If he made
too much of the incident, it might embarrass Jesse further. The trouble was,
King didn't quite know what to make of his actions either. He'd been more
surprised than Jesse when he'd found himself on top of her. No wonder she
wouldn't look him in the eye. He didn't know what she was thinking or feeling,
but in some vague way he felt he'd let her down.
He hurried out
the door and just caught a glimpse of her shirt before she disappeared around
the curve in the driveway leading to the barns. He sighed with relief as he saw
the direction she'd taken and knew where she was going.
Now,
he thought as he
followed closely behind,
what in hell am I going to say to her
when I get there?
The barn was dark,
light coming only from the doorways and the huge open window in the loft where
hay was loaded and stored. The smells were comforting and familiar to Jesse.
She leaned her head back against the wall and let old memories assail her. The
faint but unmistakable scent of dry manure was nearly undetectable because of
the fresher, aromatic bales of prairie hay, sacks of sweet feed for the horses,
and the tang of well-oiled leather. Jesse knew exactly where she was, even with
her eyes closed. She'd spent the better portion of her life on the Double M
with Andrew, then with King and the horses. A horse nickered softly, and Jesse
smiled, knowing it probably sensed her presence. But it wasn't the stalls she
was concerned with tonight. Tonight she wanted back a better, happier time in
her life, and she knew where to find it. Up, above the earthen floor of the
barn was a place—her place—and she needed desperately to find it—for the peace
of mind it might still offer.
Jesse walked
slowly but surely in the dim shadows toward the steps fastened firmly up the
back wall of the barn leading to the loft. She knew that if there was a good
breeze, it would come through that big opening above the ground floor where the
bales of hay lay stacked like a grass castle. She grasped the steps firmly,
wincing slightly as her hands closed over the rough, wooden planks. Hand over
hand she climbed, carefully placing her feet in firm positions as she advanced
upward until her head poked through the opening in the loft floor. She paused, looked
around in satisfaction, and pulled herself the rest of the way through the
opening.
It was just as
she remembered, a private world of hay, moonlight, and dreams that danced
across the hand-hewn planks on the floor. Jesse took several tentative steps
forward and then turned in delight in the center of a moonbeam as if it was a
spotlight and she a soloist on a stage. She'd done it as a child and become
lost in the fantasy, but tonight the fantasy wouldn't come. Jesse sighed and
felt a deepening sadness as she watched the motes of dust she'd disturbed with
her little dance settle back in place on the loft floor. Maybe it didn't work
after you grew up. Maybe didn't was because you had to believe in dreams. It
hurt too much when dreams die, and today Jesse had felt the last of her dreams
of a life with King helplessly disappear. The pain was more than she could
bear. She sank limply to the floor.
"What am I
going to do?" Jesse whispered aloud, and then let the pain engulf her.
King heard her moving
around on the floor above and stepped aside just as a tiny shower of dust and
bits of hay filtered down through the cracks of the floor. He knew what a
special place the old hayloft had been to Jesse in the past, and suspected she
had run to it now as a place of refuge. He debated about the wiseness of
disturbing her and started to leave, allowing her the much needed time for
solace. It was the muffled sobs spilling into the silence of the night that
stopped his exit. He couldn't make himself leave her like this. Quietly he
climbed up the steps and was standing in the shadows of the loft before Jesse
knew he was present.
Sobs shook her
fragile shoulders as she sat curled in upon herself. A cloud passed over the
face of the moon, then cleared, bathing Jesse in a translucent glow so bright
she seemed to be carved from marble. King watched, worried and confused. This
sadness was not fear. It was despair.
A sudden thought
struck him dumb and kept his feet stationary as he admitted to himself that he
was the only other thing that could have possibly upset her today. At last, he
knew he was going to have to face Jesse and make her talk to him as they should
have talked long ago. He spoke her name.
The sound of his
voice above and behind her made Jesse jump to her feet in shock.
"What are
you doing here?" she asked angrily.