Oregon Outback (5 page)

“Who says it has to be a door to the past? Maybe it’s a door to your future with Jonas, a man you once loved enough to marry. A man you might still—”

“Why is this so important to you, Emily?” Darcy swung her legs over the side of the chair and sat up. “I almost think you care more than I do.”

“Because.” Emily pressed her hand over her heart. “You’re two people who were kept apart—sort of like Romeo and Juliet. Like Rose and Jack in
Titanic
…” She paused at Darcy’s look. “What? Too dramatic?”

“You could say that.” Darcy hung her head. Exhaustion from the busy week, from her loss the week before, slammed her all at once. “In the end, only death kept them apart.”

The words unsettled her.

“What are you thinking?” Emily asked. She’d started pacing the backyard, kicking around a few sticks like a little kid.

“That I need my phone so I can let Jonas know that you’re coming with us.” If she didn’t explore this, she’d always wonder.

Time with Jonas would do one of two things—open up the possibility that he would fill the hole he’d left in her heart, or leave her cut and bleeding again.

This thing she had for Jonas was like a deep, flood-ravaged gorge that carried her forward in the rushing water. Depending on where you stood, the river was either beneficial to the environment or it was destructive.

Beneficial or destructive.

Darcy wasn’t sure where she stood.

“Okay. Close your eyes now,” Jonas said.

Darcy sat on the tailgate of Lucas’s truck. Swinging her legs, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Emily was busy folding the blanket they’d used to eat their picnic lunch. Jonas and Lucas had made Darcy’s favorite—fried chicken. It had been a risk. The women appeared to enjoy having someone else cook for them for a change.

Sunday had turned out to be a beautiful day. Perfect for a picnic—the kind where a guy could romance a girl, even if he was rusty like Jonas.

The sun behind Darcy created a halo around her hair. Ten years had been good to her—she’d grown into a beautiful, sophisticated woman, from the girl he’d been in love with. Jonas could hardly believe his luck that she wasn’t married, or in love with someone else.

Though he wasn’t sure his efforts would have been deterred by news that she had a boyfriend, now he realized he definitely wanted back in the game. Truth was, he wasn’t sure when he’d gotten out. It hadn’t been a conscious effort on his part, just time flying by while he became an FBI agent, then while he threw himself into his work.

Jonas wanted to imagine that they hadn’t lost any time. That they had been together, instead of apart. Or better. He wanted to fast-forward to when they were together again.

But progress took time. Today, he would continue building the bridge that connected him to Darcy.

“When can I open my eyes?” she asked.

“Not yet. I’ll be right back.” He tugged the gift he’d purchased from underneath the front seat then rushed back around the truck.

Darcy waited with her eyes closed. Holding the gift wrapped in brown paper, Jonas felt silly. He wasn’t any good at this.

He handed it to her. “Okay, you can look now.” He was going about this all wrong.

“What’s this?” She smiled as she took it from him.

“It’s for you.”

She stared at him, leaving the gift unopened. “Jonas …”

“Just open it already.” He grinned, covering his panic.

As if weighing what accepting a gift from him would mean, she hesitated. But when she ripped the paper off, he couldn’t help his broad smile.

Holding the box filled with art pencils and an expensive sketch pad, she glanced up and looked long and deep inside him, searching for something. “You shouldn’t have,” she whispered.

Had she found what she was looking for? He hoped so. “It was my pleasure. I know how much you love to sketch.”

“Thank you. This means a lot to me.” Her eyes glistened.

“It’s not like you needed any art supplies, I know. I just—”

She touched his hand, stopping him. “You don’t have to explain. I understand. It’s a very thoughtful gift.”

Jonas cherished the look of hope in her eyes. He desperately wanted to ask her the question that kept him awake every night.

Can we recapture what we once had?
“I thought you might like to draw while we’re here.” He sounded like he was eighteen again.

“Um, I don’t know.” She gave a nervous laugh.

“I used to enjoy watching you sketch.” He’d brought up their past. What an idiot.

“I guess I could.” She nodded. “Sure.”

Relief swept over him. If he could only keep the light banter going forever, well, not forever, but grow it from here. He had to give her time. But with everything in him he wanted to rush things.

“I didn’t get you anything. I’m sorry.” Color rose in her cheeks and she glanced away. Cute.

“You accepted my invitation. That’s enough.”
That means everything to me
.

With every second he spent with her, the love he once had burned more brightly. Lucas was right. Darcy was the
one,
and she always had been. But in going away to make something of himself for her, he’d lost her.

“What should I sketch?” She’d tugged the ponytail out of her hair and shook it free, then looked at him.

Gorgeous, thick cords of her luscious hair hung over her shoulders. Though it was tough, Jonas resisted lifting his hand to her hair. “Let’s walk, then if something you see inspires you, we’ll stop.”

He started on the trail near where they’d picnicked, Darcy beside him. Emily and Lucas had gone ahead, leaving Jonas time alone to give her his present.

Spotting them in the distance, he trudged forward. Darcy kept up with him easily. He shared a little about his career in the FBI. At some point, he’d planned to explain how her father’s words impacted him, sending him along a much narrower path than he was headed, despite his intentions toward Darcy. For that, he was grateful to the man. But now wasn’t the time.

Lucas and Emily dropped out of sight.

Jonas stopped. Where had they gone?

“Guys, remember when we used to explore in here?” Lucas’s voice echoed, sounding like he was in a cavern.

Jonas smiled. Of course, he hadn’t explored the Crack-in-the-Ground since he was a kid living here. The result of volcanic activity in Oregon’s past, the fissure was two miles long and seventy feet deep in places. A local tourist attraction, along with the four craters to the north.

Trusting Darcy to follow, he picked up his pace until he stood at the edge of the fissure. He saw now how Lucas had climbed down since they were beyond the main entry point. Part of the wall had caved. Sand, dirt, and rock filled in the rest, giving him easy access to the bottom.

He turned to assist Darcy in descending, but she hadn’t kept up with him. She still stood a good fifty yards back. “Come on. Don’t you want to explore?”

She shook her head. What was the matter with her?

“You guys go ahead,” he called down to his brother and Emily, “but don’t be too long.”

Lucas didn’t answer, but Jonas wouldn’t worry.

He trotted back to Darcy. “What’s wrong?”

She gave him a look like he should know. “You don’t remember?” she asked.

Remember what? In her eyes he saw pain and raw fear. A familiar memory trickled into his thoughts—her trembling voice when she told him about falling into the fissure as a child. Being stuck in the dark, feeling like the walls were closing in on her. How terrified she’d been.

“I can’t believe I forgot. I’m sorry.” He blew out a breath and studied her. All his efforts to be the most thoughtful guy on the planet and he’d forgotten this. Had it cost him? Had it just erased the gift, the picnic with fried chicken, destroyed the bridge?

He frowned, feeling the regret of everything he’d lost. Wanting to take her in his arms. Bury his face in her swanlike neck and gorgeous hair.

“I shouldn’t have expected you to remember,” she said, offering a soft smile. “I just can’t go down there. It makes me feel trapped.”

“No, you prefer hanging from a nylon cloth, thousands of feet above the ground.”

“And that scares you.” She laughed and finger-combed her hair then made a ponytail again. One of those familiar habits he loved—she’d release her hair from a ponytail and a few minutes later, put it up. Then the process repeated all over.

“It does.” He nodded, drawing closer. “Are we going to hike while we wait on them?”

“No. I found my inspiration.” Darcy scrambled onto a boulder, grabbed a pencil from her pack, and positioned her sketch pad. She stared at him as she sketched.

“What … me?”

“You’re an FBI agent who faces death almost every day in his job, and yet there’s something that terrifies you. You’re an enigma, Jonas Love.”

Losing you again scares me more …

T
hursday morning, the sun rose an hour earlier than usual, or it seemed to Darcy. She wanted to sleep in and since this was her day off, she was at liberty to roll over and smash a pillow over her head. But her to-do list wouldn’t let go.

Tonight, she was supposed to meet with a potential buyer for the store and, if she sold it, that was one more step to her freedom. She loved her father, mourned his absence, but her life had never been her own. At last she could exercise some control over it.

She could make a fresh start somewhere else.

Stretching her arms, she remained in bed and stared at the ceiling. What would it feel like to sleep in a different room, to call a different place home, to have an apartment or a new house all her own?

When she rolled to her side to glance at the clock, the sketch of Jonas she’d drawn while on their picnic Sunday caught her attention. She slid it across the nightstand and held it up.

You are a gorgeous man, but …

“But what are you doing back in my life?” What were his intentions? This had to be leading nowhere. Just like before.

After the picnic, he’d called several times during the week, even stopping by the store to see her. Jonas had invited her to spend today with him, but she’d refused because of everything she needed to get done.

Just being with him did crazy things to her heart. She was supposed to be protecting her most precious possession, wasn’t she? She couldn’t afford to offer it to him with so many uncertainties in her future. Emily’s talk of their love story was something best left to a romance novel. Darcy had already played a main character opposite Jonas in a love story that ended badly.

She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Jonas had been kind to her, thoughtful at every turn, but Darcy sensed that he was acting out of guilt, attempting to make up for what happened between them. That wasn’t something she wanted to build a relationship on. With her heart on the line, too much was at risk, especially since she didn’t know what he wanted from her.

Was it friendship?

Forgiveness?

Love?

He clearly loved his job with the FBI. She recalled his anguish as he told her about how someone on his team was killed, and that he was in Oregon to regroup. That told Darcy she wasn’t part of his plans for the future. Then why was she torturing herself with thoughts of him, or even giving him the time of day? Why couldn’t she shove the remnants of her love for him from her heart?

Ignoring the clashing thoughts, she closed her eyes and tried to remember how it felt to be in his arms. To kiss Jonas, the man she loved. The man she would have married.

If not for her father. She released a pent-up groan, threw the covers off, and got out of bed. Allowing her thoughts to go there wasn’t helping anything.

The here and now was all there was. All she had left. That … and a future of her own making.

Dressed in her comfy sweats, Darcy stood in the living room and stared at the mountain of knickknacks, collectibles, and paperwork to organize and put in an estate sale once probate was complete. She expected that news to come through any day now and had already contacted a woman who lived in Ridgeview and specialized in estate sales.

Darcy exhaled.

The aroma of coffee, set to brew the night before, wafted into the living room. She poured a big mug of the dark brew, adding fat-free milk. After drinking half the cup, she opened the front door and made her way down the driveway to retrieve the rolled-up newspaper. A quick read through the morning paper, and she could start her day off right.

A red minivan pulled next to the curb in front of the house, startling her. A woman hopped out of the driver’s side and rushed around to the passenger side, tossing Darcy a little wave. What in the world?

Once the passenger door was hanging open, Mrs. Olson stepped from the car and smiled. “There you are.”

Darcy didn’t know what to make of the woman stopping by, but moved closer to the van so the elderly woman wouldn’t have to walk to her. “Hello Mrs. Olson. What can I do for you?”

“Please forgive me for coming uninvited.” She looked at the younger woman standing next to her—a woman Darcy had never met. “This is my granddaughter, Candice. She drove over yesterday from Idaho to pick me up. I’m going to visit my great-granddaughter for her birthday. Remember, I told you about that.”