Chapter Three

Steve had barely poured another cup of coffee after the phone call from Chris when the phone rang again. Annoyed, he nearly tore the receiver off the cord when he picked it up.

"What now?" he snarled, sure it was Williams again.

"Good morning, Pal," Oscar said cautiously. "Nice to hear you so chipper."

"Oh – huh?" Steve stammered. "I'm sorry; I thought you were -"

"Chris Williams?" Oscar interrupted.

"How'd you know that?"

"I'm in Intelligence, remember?" Steve didn't laugh at what would normally have passed as a joke between them, and Oscar didn't either. "Have you heard from Jaime lately?" he asked his operative.

Steve chuckled at the irony. "Seems to be the topic of the day."

"What? Never mind. Steve, Chris just called me, looking for Jaime and sounding like it was life or death."

"It might be, if he doesn't knock it off," Steve muttered under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"What's going on out there?" Oscar demanded. "And if you say 'nothing' again, I'll be on a plane faster than -"

"Jaime left Chris," Steve blurted out. "Three days ago. She's pretty upset, and I know she doesn't wanna see him right now."

"Where is she?"

"I told Williams she wasn't here – that I hadn't heard from her – but...she's staying in my guest room."

"Oh."

"Oscar, no; it isn't like that. Jaime needed a friend..."

"I didn't think that for a second, Pal. I know you'd never hurt Jaime, or take advantage of the situation. But I have a feeling Chris might be headed your way," Oscar warned.

"Did he say that?"

"No, but he asked if Jaime was with you – asked it several times, in fact -"

"How'd he sound?"

Oscar knew what his friend was asking. "He didn't sound like he was raging or homicidal, but he did seem determined to talk to her."

"He'll have to talk to me first," Steve said firmly, "and I am as far as he's gonna get."

- - - - - -

Her swim had done exactly what Jaime had hoped: calmed her nerves by draining some of the extreme stress. She stretched out at the river's edge, able to think much more clearly now. The breeze was picking up, but the air was warm and while Jaime watched the ripples in the water turn to small waves, her thoughts and memories took another turn, as well. To her own surprise, she began thinking about her sex life with Chris. It wasn't that it had been terrible – far from it – but there, too, something vital was missing. Jaime thought about Steve and how the earth itself seemed to truly move when they'd been together, and suddenly she realized the vast difference between having sex and making love. Smiling now, her tears forgotten, Jaime called for her horse and started down the trail, back to the house.

- - - - - -

Steve took his third cup of coffee onto the front porch, where he anxiously waited for Jaime. He had to tell her about Chris's call – he couldn't lie to her, never could – but what, exactly should he say? He'd have to wing it; Jaime was jogging briskly down the trail beside the horse. Steve could see, even from a distance, that for the first time in three days she actually looked happy. He wished with all his heart that her smile could last just a little while longer.

Jaime returned the horse to its corral and sat down on the porch steps next to Steve. "Morning, Sleepyhead," she said brightly. She noticed right away that his mood didn't match her own. "Steve – what's wrong?"

"There was a phone call while you were gone."

Jaime's eyes grew wide. She could only think of one reason for someone to call before the day had even begun. "Something happened to Dad?" she guessed. "Or...Mom?"

"No, nothing like that." Steve took her hand. "Jaime, Chris called – looking for you."

"Oh, no...he...knows I'm here?"

Steve, trying to assess the situation from her reaction, didn't see fear in Jaime's eyes – only sadness and pain. "I told him I hadn't heard from you." When Jaime gave an audible sigh of relief, he shook his head. "I don't think he believed me. He called Oscar, too, and Oscar got the impression..." Steve's voice trailed off when he saw the happy glow had completely disappeared from Jaime's face.

"What?" Jaime asked softly.

Steve took a deep breath. "Oscar thinks Chris might be on his way down here, to try and see you."

"I should call him." Jaime rose reluctantly to her feet.

Steve followed her into the house. "It's your decision, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't want him coming here, to your house. This isn't your problem, Steve."

"I'm your friend; that makes this our problem." He longed to hold her tightly – protectively - in his arms, to stop her from making her phone call, but she wasn't his. This was Jaime's move to make, but Steve would be right behind her, watching her back, no matter what.

"Answer your damn phone," Jaime was muttering. Steve placed a gentle hand on her arm for support and found she was shaking. A few seconds later, she hung up the receiver. "He...didn't answer," she whispered, her back to Steve.

From the tone of her voice, Steve had to ask, one more time: "Jaime...Did Chris hurt you?"

"You mean physically? No; Chris would never do that."

"You seem...afraid," he said gently, as he led her to the couch.

"I don't want him coming here." Jaime took several deep breaths. "When I left Chris, he asked me if there was someone else, and he also asked me if it was you. If he's on his way here, it means he still thinks that way."

"So? Let him think what he wants. You don't have to talk to him - you owe him nothing. I'll get rid of him for you, and you won't even have to see -"

"No."

"If you want to see him, or -" Steve sighed inwardly, not letting her hear it, "if you've decided to go back with him, I won't stand in the way."

"No. That isn't it. Steve, I said he'd never hurt me, and he wouldn't. I'm just afraid that if he's upset enough, he could try to hurt you."

- - - - - -