White Heat

If Wycliff had wanted a remote spot, and if Paradise was anything like Portal, he’d certainly chosen well.

“You coming?” The door of the trailer hung open as Nate waited on the landing.

“I’m coming,” she called back, and got out.

Nate hadn’t told Rachel that only one bedroom was furnished. There weren’t many rental options in Portal; he’d had to take what he could find. He’d figured he could always sleep on the couch. But as he studied the short, lumpy sofa in what passed for a living room, he decided he’d rather lie awake night after night suffering from sexual frustration at Rachel’s side.

She stood in the hallway, gazing into one bedroom and then the second, which was empty. Eventually, she turned to glare at him.

“What?” He spread his hands in mock innocence.

“You know what.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you bunk with me, at least until we can get a mattress for the other room.”

“You’re going to let me sleep with you.”

He wondered if she was remembering the last time she’d been in his bed. “Just until we can get you a mattress. That won’t be any problem, will it?”

“What do you think?”

“I know you’re on a sexual hiatus and all, but you said yourself that I’m no temptation. And even if we get a little hot and bothered, what’s one more hurrah after entertaining all those beach bums?” He chuckled at her stricken expression as he went out to collect the rest of their supplies. But he’d underestimated her resistance. When he returned, he met her going in the opposite direction, carrying the cheap secondhand suitcase they’d bought for her in Phoenix.

“I’m finding my own place to stay,” she announced. “Consider us estranged and on the brink of divorce.”

He put down the groceries in his arms and moved to cut her off. She had the keys. “There’s no need to over-react,” he said, sobering in an effort to calm her. “We can’t be estranged when we approach the Covenanters. And there’s nothing else around here. Do you think I would’ve picked this place if I’d had any other choice?”

“I think you feel it’s a big joke that I’m going to be without any personal space—but I’m not laughing.”

“It’s not a joke. I—I’ll sleep on the floor, okay? It’s a job, Rachel, like any other. You can’t tell me you haven’t been in compromising situations before. What makes this one any different?”

That wasn’t hard to answer. He knew working with him was what made it different. But he also knew she’d never admit it.

“I just don’t understand why I couldn’t have handled this alone,” she said. “I work better that way.”

“So you’ve said. But sometimes you have to adjust.”

“That doesn’t include sleeping with my manager!”

He could’ve mentioned that it was a little late to worry about that. After all, she was the one who’d let herself into his condo, removed her clothing and offered him everything she had, including her heart. But he knew the reminder wouldn’t help. It was the fact that they’d been together before that was causing all the trouble now. “Hey, this isn’t about us,” he said. “Our work never is. It’s about doing what we have to. Period. You know that.”

She remained stiff, resistant, so he tried another tack. “Look, I didn’t set you up, okay? You’ve seen what’s available in Portal. This place was all I could get, unless you’d rather camp out under the stars. I figured we’d make improvements when we could—and we will. Until then, I’ll sleep in a bag in the spare room. Nothing’s changed. There’s no problem.”

Her forehead rumpled as she kicked at the dirt, but it wasn’t long before she let him take her suitcase and the keys.

“Lightweight,” he muttered.

“I’m not a lightweight,” she snapped. “It’s the damn heat. It’s insufferable.”

Although it was no longer the hottest part of the day, they were still sweating. “Whatever you say. Sit down while I get the generator going.”

“I don’t need to sit down. I can carry stuff, too,” she said. Then she helped him unload and, using water from two metal barrels provided by the landlord, they began to clean.

By midnight, the temperature hadn’t dropped more than a few degrees. Rachel felt as if she couldn’t breathe in the sweltering heat. L.A. could get warm in the summertime, but the breeze coming in off the ocean generally made for comfortable nights.

The generator whined out back. Supposedly, it was large enough to run the swamp cooler in the hallway, but she’d needed to put some space between her and Nate so she lay in bed with her door shut, praying for the slightest breeze to carry through her open window.

Those prayers went unanswered. The desert stretched beyond the trailer on all sides, quiet and still. But with her drapes open, she could see the night sky. The stars had never looked quite so close or so bright. She supposed this place could get in a person’s blood. Although it was a far cry from her glass-and-chrome house on the ocean—she doubted she’d ever be able to give up her proximity to the sea—the desert had a stark beauty she found appealing, if lonesome.

What would tomorrow bring? She and Nate had to start talking to people in town, make their presence known and build their cover. Maybe they’d take some pictures around Paradise. They couldn’t wait for Ethan and the Covenanters to notice them. They had to draw the attention of someone in the group, get an invitation to one of the Introduction Meetings. She hated the thought that Ethan might be stoning people while they settled in, completely unaware, in this trailer.

Would gaining admission to the group be difficult?

Rachel couldn’t even guess. Like every job she did, this one was filled with unknowns….

The creak of Nate’s footsteps in the hall told her he was up. She tensed, waiting to see what he’d do, but she wasn’t worried that he’d try to come into her room. He hadn’t really wanted to be with her the first time they’d made love. Why would he feel any different now?

She heard the front door open. He was going out.

Leaving her bed, she went to the window to see what he was doing. He appeared to be heading to his truck, but it didn’t look as if he planned on going far. He wasn’t wearing anything except a pair of basketball shorts.

The cab light went on when he opened the passenger door. He got something out of the jockey box, then started back.

Because she didn’t want him to catch her watching him, she climbed back into bed. Forget Nate! Obsessing about him was what had gotten her into trouble before.

She cringed as she remembered all the signals she must’ve misinterpreted to wind up in his bed, naked. The way he’d sometimes looked at her at the office, she’d assumed…well, she’d assumed too much, obviously. Without the experience most women had in dealing with men, she hadn’t known how to take their relationship from colleagues to lovers and had gone too far, too fast.

Getting into his bed had been her first mistake. Not getting out of it when he reacted with such surprise had been her second. And not leaving his house right after they’d made love had been her third. But by then she’d known deep inside that she’d have only the one night with him. So she’d stayed, secretly treasuring every moment.

The crushing disappointment that’d come in the morning—with his polite explanation of why he’d lost control and how sorry he was for not sending her home—still made her cringe.

God, what a fool! Why couldn’t she have salvaged her pride?

Because she’d been lonely too long. And because she’d let him mean too much to her. When she realized that feeling wasn’t mutual, she simply didn’t have the skills to shrug it off or act indifferent.

He’d taught her a good lesson, though. One most people learned in their teens, but better late than never…

At least she’d never make that mistake again. She’d demand more from any lover she took in the future.

But there were times she was tempted to lower her standards. Times like now, when she lay in bed, remembering Nate’s hands on her body and craving them there again.

6

Every Wednesday, Ethan called his entire church together for morning prayer. Then Bart and his guards took over for two hours with armory drills. In the summer, they met in the courtyard outside the Enlightenment Hall as the sun came up, like they were doing now. It wasn’t Wednesday, but the sudden disappearance of Courtney Sinclair had to be addressed. At Bartholomew’s urging, Ethan had called for a special prayer so he could handle the issue via public announcement. This would enable everyone to hear what he had to say on the matter. But he hated that this was the second time he’d been forced to convene a meeting for the sake of damage control within the past two months.

He could feel Bartholomew behind him, keeping silent watch, as always. Bart took his job as head of security very seriously. The way he’d supported Ethan after that fight with Courtney, how he’d hidden the body and then buried it, proved he could be trusted with anything.

Ethan had been lucky the day Bart had attended one of his first Introduction Meetings. Claiming she couldn’t live with his sexual dysfunction—which probably had more to do with his orientation than his impotence—Bart’s wife had recently left him. Days later, he’d closed his failing chiropractic practice. He’d been in the middle of a full-blown midlife crisis, had been searching for an anchor of some sort, a devotion that felt worthwhile, and Ethan had been there to offer him that. Bart was so grateful to have a purpose, to be valued that he’d become one of Ethan’s most loyal followers.