The professor paused a second then added, “But don’t you go around asking questions about Gus Hartmann, Joe. I hear things from time to time. Hartmann is not someone with whom you want to get at cross-purposes. And reconsider this FBI business. You belong in a courtroom, son.”
Chapter Thirty-three
THEY ATE AT THE table next to the window with the draperies still tightly closed. They could hear the footsteps and voices of people walking by the window and packing up their cars.
Joe told her about the phone call to his professor then added, “I think we should be moving on-before someone discovers that I own a motorcycle.”
“Any ideas as to where?” Jamie asked.
Joe nodded. “As a matter of fact, yes.”
They packed up their few possessions and loaded them in the Harley saddlebags. Jamie had no choice but to climb onboard, with her baby slung out of sight across her stomach. Carrying an infant on a motorcycle was not only unsafe, it was surely against the law. She wanted to tell Joe to drive carefully, but he must realize how disastrous even a minor accident could be to her unprotected baby.
He stopped at a Target on the way out of town and waited while she replaced her tattered shoes.
Staying on country roads and driving at a very sedate speed, he wove his way south. By midmorning they had crossed under Interstate 10. When Billy started to fuss, Joe headed down a country lane, and Jamie leaned against a tree trunk while she fed her hungry baby. Joe had stopped looking away, but he didn’t stare either. When she was finished, she handed Billy to Joe and found a sheltered place to relieve herself.
They ate chicken sandwiches in the town of Wharton and rested for a time on a shady patch of grass at a small park with Billy lying between them and entertaining himself by kicking furiously and waving his arms. “We’re heading for the gulf, aren’t we?” Jamie asked.
Joe nodded. “Yeah, there’re some cabins near a place called Neptune Beach. At least I hope the cabins are still there. My grandparents and I stayed there for several days back when I was in grade school. As I recall, it’s on the primitive side but very out of the way.”
“What about money?”
“I got some before I left Houston. Don’t worry, I won’t be using any ATMs or credit cards along the way.”
“I’m afraid that I’ve ruined your life.”
Joe propped himself up on an elbow. “I walked into this with my eyes wide open,” he said.
“Not really. You didn’t bargain for a baby or for the scope of the mess I’ve gotten myself into.”
He didn’t say anything for a time then he stretched out again, his hands behind his head. “There’s a way out of this, Jamie. We just have to figure out what it is.”
“I hope so. I wouldn’t have gotten you involved if it weren’t for Billy,” she confessed. And felt better for saying the words.
“You really love him a lot, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I do.”
She closed her eyes and dozed for a time. She woke when he put his hand on her shoulder. “Time to go,” he said, handing her a bottle of water.
She touched his cheek. He moved his face so that his lips were touching her fingers. It was a sweet moment, one that filled her heart with hope.
By midafternoon, she could smell the ocean.
The cabin was one of a dozen or so scattered along a low bluff and overlooking a series of dunes and the cobalt-blue gulf beyond. They both stood for a minute to take in the view before Joe put the key in the lock.
Jamie noted the rough siding on the walls, faded linoleum on the floor, and iron bedstead covered with a lumpy comforter. The kitchen had an ancient refrigerator, a galvanized-steel sink, and was equipped with mismatched dishes and dented cooking utensils. The back porch overlooked the ocean. “It’s perfect,” she said.
“Will you be okay here by yourself while I go buy some groceries?”
She nodded.
She wasn’t really okay, though. As nice as it would be to sit on the back porch while she fed Billy, she locked herself inside and got a butcher knife from the kitchen before curling up in the bed with him. Then she closed her eyes and prayed. “Please, let this turn out all right. Please.”
When Billy drifted off to sleep, she closed her eyes and slept for a time, awaking when she heard the motorcycle approach. Joe parked behind the cabin, where the bike would be hidden from the road. Judging by the sun, it was already late afternoon. He must have had a hard time finding a grocery store.
Billy was still sleeping soundly. She left him on the bed and hurried out back to help carry in the groceries.
The saddlebags were overflowing, and a cardboard box was tied to the back of the motorcycle. Apparently their stay here was to be more than a one-night stand. Jamie was glad.
Together they put the groceries away. He had done a good job. In addition to several days’ worth of food, he had bought her two scooped-neck T-shirts, one a rosy pink and the other a black-and-white stripe, a couple of pairs of knit shorts, and a set of navy sweats. When she pulled a package of women’s underpants and a nursing bra out of the sack, Joe blushed. “The saleswoman had me watch the women walking by and point out one who was about your size.”
And there was more-baby shirts, pajamas, and receiving blankets, and a baby rattle. Another sack held a big bottle of sunscreen and some toilet articles for Jamie. “I asked for the essentials,” Joe explained. “I told the saleswoman that my girlfriend’s luggage had gotten lost.”
Girlfriend. He had called her his girlfriend. “You’ve done a wonderful job,” Jamie said. “Thank you.”
They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. Then she busied herself putting away her new possessions. Together they put away the groceries and filled the cardboard box with the things they would need for a picnic on the beach.
As darkness fell, with Jamie carrying Billy and Joe carrying the cardboard box, they headed down to the beach. They gathered driftwood and built a fire in a secluded place among the dunes and, with Joe wearing Billy in the sling, walked along the beach. The waves washed over their bare feet as the sun sank closer and closer to the horizon until it became a huge orange ball and gradually slid from view, leaving streaks of vivid color in its wake. When they turned and made their way back up the beach, Joe reached for Jamie’s hand.
He added more driftwood to the fire, and she spread out a blanket, put Billy on it, and watched delightedly as he became mesmerized by the flames. She took a few small sips of Joe’s beer, taking enormous pleasure in the intimacy of passing the can back and forth. It was a thrill to put her lips where his had been and wondered if he felt the same.
She fed Billy while Joe downed a second beer on his own. By unspoken agreement, they did not talk about the circumstances that had brought them to this place. She told him about her hope to attend medical school and maybe to specialize in the care of very ill children if she had the courage. Joe told her about Oxford and how exhilarating it was to study at such a venerable place. And how he had spent every weekend prowling about London-the ethnic neighborhoods, street markets, used book stalls, pubs, museums, Westminster Abbey, Trafalgar Square, dining on the Indian tacos he bought from street vendors. “I’d like to take you there someday,” he said.
“I’d like that,” she said. His words empowered her. She reached over and touched his hand. Then, after years of dreaming about such a moment, she was in his arms.
He kissed her neck first. Then her eyes. Her hair. And finally her mouth. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth. Or his tongue. And the feel of his strong body against hers. She had always wondered if she would know what to do should she ever find herself in his arms. But there was no thought. No plan. Just craving. Lust. Need. Her body was on fire. She strained against him, wanting more. Wanting all.