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  “He’s fine,” came the reply, softer than Jennifer would have expected. “That boy is stronger than an ox, body and spirit. He’ll get you out of there.”

  She thought she heard John gasp for breath. “It’s okay. I’m ready. Hold on, Jennifer.”

  She flew higher, this time in two rapid, strong jerks of the rope. Her heart leapt with excitement when she reached up and touched the edge of the ground. A gray-haired, wrinkly-faced woman wearing a frown stuck her head over the edge.

  “Give me one of your hands,” Lila ordered.

  Jennifer put one of her hands in Lila’s. Her skin was dry and leathery, but the old woman had a wiry grip.

  “One, two, three,” Lila shouted.

  Lila yanked. Jennifer heard a mighty grunt of effort and then a sustained growl from John, and suddenly she was sprawled on the surface, her forehead pressed against a patch of weeds. Lila’s hands were on her, swinging her hips and legs onto the ground. Jennifer came up on her elbows, panting. The brilliant sun shining in her eyes made the forest look unreal, like a flickering, golden and green fairyland. For the first time, she realized Lila was also lying on the ground.

  “Stay spread out on the ground, keep your weight disbursed. Less likely for a cave-in that way,” Lila instructed. “Now crawl toward John.”

  Jennifer did as she was told, keeping John in her sights the whole time. He stood with his feet braced against the gnarly roots of an oak tree, the rope wrapped around his forearms and hands several times. Even though he wasn’t pulling on the rope anywhere near as hard as he must have been moments ago, his muscles still kept the rope taut. She couldn’t begin to imagine the strength it must have taken him to pull her out of that hole, drawing on the rope in an almost vertical motion from where it was suspended from the tree branch.

  “I hope you know a good chiropractor. You’re going to need it after pulling me out of that hole,” she said regretfully as she neared him, doing an army crawl.

  His mouth twitched. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Her attention was diverted when she heard a whining sound.

  “Hi, Enzo. Thanks for supper last night,” she greeted. The tawny- and black-haired German shepherd sitting near John wagged his tail.

  She’d almost reached John when a woman shouted from the path.

  John’s head jerked around. “Pierce . . . Mulligan?”

  Jennifer stuck her face up over the weeds and saw that John was correct. Several people stood on the distant path. She made out Katie Pierce’s golden hair and her anxious expression and tall, broad-shouldered Rill standing next to her. A brown-haired man wearing a police jacket stepped off the path.

  “Keep back,” John shouted. “This ground is dicey. It’s liable to give with any more weight. We’re coming toward you.” He reached for Jennifer when she crawled up next to him. He released the tension on the rope and helped her to remove it from her hips.

  He touched her shoulder and she looked into his face. His eyes weren’t just blue, like she’d thought in the cave. They were a startling azure color in sunlight. “Go ahead toward Katie and Rill. I’ll follow Lila.”

  “Do I have to keep crawling?”

  “Yeah, just to be on the safe side. You can stand up when you get to the Pierces.”

  A few seconds later, Katie was pulling her up from the ground and hugging her.

  “Oh my God, are you all right? We were so scared.”

  “I’m fine,” Jennifer assured. “Where’s the baby?”

  “Olive Fanatoon took her,” Katie explained.

  Rill Pierce stepped up to her, looking dark, handsome and intense. She’d starred in one of Rill’s films four years ago, and was excited to be doing another with him this upcoming autumn. Of course, there wasn’t an actor in Hollywood who wouldn’t be thrilled to take part in one of Rill’s movies. He’d flown her out to his house in the Shawnee National Forest four days ago to talk over some things about the screenplay and her character. She was already friends with his vibrant, tell-it-like-is, beautiful wife because Katie was the little sister of Everett, her former lover.

  “I thought I told you not to go off the forest preserve path,” Rill scolded before he hugged her just as hard as Katie had. Jennifer glanced at Katie next to his shoulder and they shared a little smile. Katie had told her that Rill’s accent came out the most when he was angry or worried, and his Irishness was fully evident at the present moment.

  “You’ll be glad when you see how the walking off the beaten path strengthened my acting skills,” she teased.

  Rill released her, giving her a stern look that was ruined by the small grin tugging at his mouth. John approached with Lila. Sheriff Mulligan, a middle-aged man with skinny legs, a large belly and what appeared to be a perpetual expression of discontent on his face, started peppering John with questions. Jennifer accepted a bottle of water from Katie. She sipped it while she listened to John explain their ordeal.

  “And neither of you are injured?” Sheriff Mulligan demanded.

  “I’m fine. Jennifer? Are you all right?” John asked.

  “I’m fine. I can’t really speak for the state of my hips and thighs where the rope bit, and I’ve got a rope burn on my jaw, and bruises from the fall yesterday, but all in all I’d say I’m in excellent condition.”

  John walked toward the sound of Jennifer’s voice, stumbling slightly against a man who had been standing rather uselessly in the midst of everyone. Jennifer supposed he was Hilbert Hanks, the volunteer fireman Lila had mentioned. He had a length of coiled rope hanging off one thin shoulder. He’d been gawking at Jennifer ever since she’d reached the path. Katie had noticed Jennifer’s growing discomfort at the man’s nonstop staring and came to stand at an angle that blocked his vision. Hilbert mumbled under his breath when John ran into him, but John just ignored him and kept coming toward her. She took his outstretched hands when he neared her.

  “You should go to the hospital and get checked out,” he said.

  “I agree,” Katie seconded.

  Jennifer squeezed John’s hands. His hair really was as black as midnight. It hadn’t just been the shadows in the cave making it seem so. Distantly, she was aware of Katie watching their interaction with interest, but most of her attention was exclusively on the man who stood before her.

  “You should probably come to the hospital too, John,” Rill said. “We’ll drive you both there.”

  “I don’t need to go, I’m fine,” John said, his face still turned toward Jennifer. “But you’ll see Jennifer does?”

  “No, John . . .” Jennifer paused in her protest when she glanced down at his hand. It was red with thick, swelling rope welts. She gasped.

  “Oh my God. Look at your hands,” she muttered, horrified. She grabbed his other hand. It was worse. The skin had been completely torn back in a couple spots. Blood was smeared on the palm.

  “You have to go to the hospital. That rope tore up your hands.”

  “No.” She blinked at his calm, matter-of-fact reply. “I’ve had worse. Besides, you know I’ve got a first-aid kit.” She smiled shakily, recalling how he’d transformed the plastic kit into a cooking utensil.

  “Everything is going to be fine. You go ahead,” he murmured. She stepped a little closer to him. It struck her she’d never see the cave again—never see the place where John had taught her to see so vividly in complete darkness.

  “Thank you for going down that hole with me,” she said quietly. “Thank you for pulling me it out of it. Thanks for everything.”

  He smiled. “I would do it again in an instant.”

  The moment stretched. He gave her hand one final squeeze and turned away.

  “We should let Rill and Katie get Jennifer to the hospital. If you have any more questions for me, why don’t you follow me to my cabin, Sheriff.” He reached with his hand, palm down, and Enzo raced to his side. Enzo walked next to him along the path. The dog was such an ideal guide, John didn’t even use his black cane.

&
nbsp; Jennifer stood there, feeling like the earth had again swallowed her whole as she watched John Corcoran walk away.

  Epilogue

  Twelve days later

  Jennifer hurried to the front door, her heart knocking against her breastbone. She’d sent her assistant, Cassie, home the moment after she’d received the phone call. She only had a little over an hour to get ready. At first, she’d been paralyzed with excitement and anxiety, wondering what she should do first. After chastising herself for being ridiculous, she’d showered and dressed in a knit dress and casual boots.

  She flung open the front door of her Hollywood Hills home, her erratic breathing ceasing completely when she saw him standing there. She gazed at him like she would an unexpected treasure. It struck her as surreal to see him here in this setting. It struck her as wonderful.

  “John. This is an amazing surprise.”

  “I’m sorry for the short notice,” he said, entering. “We kind of came on an impulse.”

  Jennifer glanced down and looked at Enzo, who was on a short leash. “I’m so glad you did. Come on in. I’ve made us a little supper.”

  “I hope you didn’t go to any trouble,” John said as they took a few steps into the upper portion of her bi-level living room. Her gaze swept over her meticulously decorated bungalow—the luxurious home of a movie star. John couldn’t see it, and that pleased Jennifer. She was glad appearances meant absolutely nothing to him.

  That didn’t mean she was immune to his appearance, though. She glanced over him appreciatively. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants that fit his lean hips exceptionally well and a blue button-down shirt. He’d shaved and trimmed back his beard into a sleek, dark goatee that highlighted his well-shaped mouth. Even though all the obvious traces of the rough, outdoorsy man she’d first met were absent, he was still the very picture of a competent, virile male supremely confident in his own skin.

  “It was no trouble at all,” she said, pausing. “Besides, I owe both of you a dinner, remember?”

  Her smile faded when he didn’t immediately reply. An awkward silence ensued. Had she misread his intentions in coming to Hollywood? When she’d received the phone call from him an hour and a half ago, she’d almost passed out in disbelief and excitement. After he’d pulled her out of the sinkhole almost two weeks ago, John had disappeared from her life.

  She’d taken directions from Katie to his cabin after she’d returned from the hospital, where she’d received treatment for minor scrapes and bruises. She’d found his cabin sitting silent and empty amongst the tall, silent trees. Had John returned home and discovered he had sustained some serious injury? Had the sheriff taken him to the hospital?

  She’d decided to return to his cabin to check on him after going to Vulture’s Canyon for a late lunch. While eating at the local café, she’d met Sherona Legion, the buxom, attractive owner of the Legion Diner that John had mentioned knowing. While Jennifer ate her delicious lunch, Sherona had revealed that her little brother Derek had picked up John an hour earlier to take him to the Carbondale airport. John’s vacation in the woods was over.

  Jennifer had been stunned, hurt and bewildered by the news.

  Yes, John and she had shared an electrical sexual experience down in that dark cave. She’d done things with John she’d never felt entirely comfortable doing with other men—fantasies aside—and she’d loved every minute of it.

  But it had been more than sex. It had been a unique human experience . . . a connection unlike anything Jennifer had ever felt before. When John had departed from the forest so quickly, Jennifer found herself questioning the validity of her experience, however. If it had been so special, John would have felt it too.

  He had felt it though. Her intuition said that he had. But perhaps she was deluding herself, influenced by the emotional edge of fear and anxiety she’d experienced? Had the singular bond she’d felt with him ever really existed?

  She cleared her throat loudly, trying to diminish the weight of her anxious thoughts. “Here, let me take your bag,” she said, referring to the black duffel bag John had flung over one shoulder.

  “Thanks. I took a cab straight from the airport. Haven’t had a chance to check in at the hotel yet.”

  “You’re not staying at a hotel. You’re staying here,” she said, taking his bag.

  She saw his expression flatten and again felt cast out to sea without a life preserver.

  “We can talk about it during supper,” she said, hoping to diminish the tension in the air.

  “Fair enough,” he replied.

  She set down his bag and led Enzo and him to her kitchen.

  “Would you like a glass of wine while I toss the salad?” When she saw his frown, she added quickly, “I also have beer and soft drinks.”

  “No, it’s not that,” he mumbled. “I didn’t come here to have dinner with you, Jennifer.”

  “Oh,” she said weakly.

  He winced. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—I want to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay,” she said warily, leaning her hip against the counter.

  Despite the fact that he said he wanted to talk to her, he looked like he was having an awfully hard time finding the right words.

  “I . . . I knew twenty minutes after I’d packed up and left the forest I was being a fool. It just took me this long to work up the courage to talk to you again.”

  “Why?” she whispered. “I wanted to see you again so much.”

  He had begun to answer her question but started at what she’d said next.

  “You did?” he asked, his expression tense.

  “I was up at your cabin within three hours of leaving you in the woods.”

  His mouth fell open but no words came out.

  “Why’d you leave, John?”

  He shook his head. “I left because I wanted to see you again so much, it hurt to be there.”

  “That makes absolutely no sense,” she said with compassion, stepping closer to him.

  “I know it,” he mumbled, his expression tight with frustration. “I have no idea what it meant to you, being down that hole with me. I know you were scared. I know having sex with me helped you to fight your fear. I convinced myself that once your use for me was over, you’d move on. You’re a rich, beautiful, accomplished woman. You’re a famous movie star,” he said gruffly. “I’m a blind, divorced chiropractor whose closest friend is his dog and who would rather chop wood or work alone in a sculpting studio than go to a high-profile movie premiere or fancy restaurant.”

  “Don’t stereotype me, John,” she said in a low, vibrating voice. “I don’t stereotype you. You taught me while we were down in that cave how foolish it would be to try to fit you into some easy category. I may be an actress, but that just means I’m an artist, just like you. I have insecurities. I have feelings. I have a heart.” She halted and inhaled when her voice broke with emotion. “You want to know what being down that hole meant to me? It meant a hell of a lot. It wasn’t just the sex that made me get through that dark night. It was you. Your strength and your compassion. I’ve never felt as close to another human being in my whole life as I did to you on that night . . . like I’d become mixed with you . . . bound to you. I know it may have seemed like impulsive, kinky sex to some people, but it didn’t to me. I gave some of myself to you that night. You gave some of yourself back. I felt it,” she whispered. “How do you think it made me feel when you just walked away after that?”

  He made a low, rough sound in his throat and stepped toward her, arms outstretched. She went into his embrace, clamping her eyelids closed when emotion flooded her. He felt so hard and solid. He smelled like musk and the clean outdoors, with just a hint of citrus soap. He smelled like the woods where she grew up . . . like home.

  He smelled like John.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, bending down so that he could press his mouth near her ear. He hugged her closer to him, as if he, like her, couldn’t quite get used to the mirac
le of holding each other. “I got to thinking about what you’d said in the cave that night, about me feeling responsible for my divorce because of my perceived shortcoming as a man . . . a protector. I got to wondering if maybe I’d given up too quickly on you . . . took the coward’s way out because I didn’t want to risk the possibility of coming up short for a woman again.”

  “You go so many miles down I can’t even fathom you,” she muttered. “As long as you show up, John, you’ll never, ever come up short. Not for me, you won’t.”

  He pressed his mouth to her temple. “The thing of it is, honey, I want you so much, if I can’t match up to what you need, it’s going to hurt all that much more.”

  She shook her head, inadvertently drying her tears on his shirt, unable to speak, her throat was so full of emotion.

  “But the other thing I learned in the past week and a half,” he continued near her ear, his hoarse voice causing shivers to course through her flesh, “is that I gave up too soon. I want you so much, I’m willing to risk anything, including facing my own self-doubts, to give this a try. I came here to fight for you, Jennifer.”

  She sobbed quietly into his chest, her tears those of pure happiness. “You’re not going to find much of a fight for that.”

  He pressed his face against her neck and kissed her, inhaling her scent. She clamped her eyes shut, seeing him vividly in the darkness, just as he’d taught her to do. “God, you smell like a miracle,” he said, his mouth finding her ear and then tracing her jaw with firm lips.

  She sent her fingers through his hair and pushed his head closer to her own. “God, you are one,” she whispered before their mouths brushed, met and clung.

  • • •

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