Chapter 13 - The Beach
Harm stood at the bow, an unrolled dinghy stretched across the deck that he was inflating with a foot pump. It was a tedious method and he chastised himself for not bringing an electric pump to quickly fill the boat. Normally, he'd take his time but today he was anxious to explore the area with Mac.
There was a spot he'd found with a clear water spring and a trail that led up to castle ruins which stood at the top of a cliff. Another trail wound down to a swimming hole that was sparsely populated and offered several spots for a campfire or picnic and Harm prepared for both.
In a backpack he placed spare clothes, towels, a blanket, first aid kit and also a soft sided cooler filled with cured meats, soft cheeses and fruits. He wanted a special day with her. He needed it in order to feel some sense of normalcy because this life they were thrust into had already taken too much.
Harm wiped the sweat from his brow and straightened to look out into the horizon. The rising sun reflected over the water like shimmering diamonds and as he took a deep breath he closed his eyes and enjoyed the clean air. Even when the tourists flooded the town in droves the air was always clear and crisp unlike Washington which felt stifling from the mass of smog and people.
Somehow the rain made everything cleaner again. He could smell the atmosphere, the pines in the distance and even the scent of the water that reminded him of the times he spent on a carrier, staring out into the waves. Harm was built for the sea and if an ocean wasn't available, a lake would do. He only hoped Mac enjoyed herself as much as he did.
At one point of their partnership she admitted to finally understanding his love of the sea. The months Mac spent on an LHA to heal the wounds of Mic's sudden departure, gave her an appreciation for sealife. It sealed their bond a little tighter and it was with great affinity that he recalled a night on Vultures Row where they stood side by side and watched his beloved F-14s take flight.
Harm straightened for a moment, wincing when a dull ache in his low back made itself present. He'd been hurting for weeks and though the pain was significantly better, moving the dinghy alone made his body protest.
When he stood, he took note of the cove he'd anchored them to. It was with purpose that he stopped the houseboat in that sheltered area of the lake. There was little water traffic, no docks and it was easier to keep an eye on his security measures. No one could sneak up from the docks and prying eyes couldn't catch him with a woman.
Harm didn't want the questions that would arise. The town had already dubbed him a recluse that came and went. It was a distinction full of rumors, one of which explored the option of him being a felon on the run from the law.
It was partially true. He was running, escaping and trying to survive until his checks and balances fell into place. He'd done a fine job of not being noticed, or so he thought.
A low humming of a boat motor coming closer and closer cut through his thoughts and when he glanced up through the sunlight he saw a white boat headed his way.
Harm's breath caught for a moment and the zillion and one horrid scenarios quickly flew through his mind. What if Mac's stalker had found them? As impossible as it was, he still worried.
As it drew near the markings of Missouri State Highway Patrol's water division were evident as was man with a dark ball cap at the helm holding his hand up as a friendly salutation. Harm waved back, expected the law enforcement official to continue on but when the boat swung around and headed back, his stomach tightened.
He'd spent months visiting the Ozarks, had learned from Blaisdale all the ins and outs of the waterways including coves where a vessel could almost disappear. Almost, he thought ruefully.
The trooper sounded the siren and brought the boat as close as possible so that Harm got a good look at the driver. The man had a full arm tattooed sleeve and sported a mustache that gave him a 1970s porn star appeal.
Both men stared each other down, the Trooper named Winters loosely holding his hand over the pistol at his hip. He relaxed his posture when he got a good look at the man on the houseboat. "Well hell, look who's back in town - Jacob Kaine. Should have known it was you out here."
"Mornin' Sergeant Winters, what brings you out here so early? Sun's not even over the yardarm."
Winters was playing with the wheel to keep the boat steady as he put the engines in neutral and then cut them off completely. "Louise from the Marina said a houseboat took off two days ago and never returned. Storms weren't too bad but I figured you ran aground."
"Nah. Just enjoying how quiet it is out here." He pointed towards the interior with his head and pursed his lips slightly. "Sometimes privacy is needed."
"Gotcha. I'll keep it short."
Mac stood in the bedroom sorting through the clothes in the backpack she'd brought. Every article of clothing had been meticulously rolled, a trick she'd learned from Uncle Matt and perfected in boot. It allowed her to pack more in a smaller bag but she still lamented not bringing something prettier.
A dress maybe? Even sexy lingerie that she could show off for Harm. In the few months they'd dated, she learned the outfits he prefered her in although it appeared he liked her in just about anything or nothing at all.
In her opinion, lingerie was one of the most useless and expensive pieces of undergarments but Mac still had several sets. She liked the way the satin and silky material made her feel and she loved how Harm looked at her when she wore it. His eyes would darken. His mouth would open and he'd involuntarily lick his lips.
She missed that simplicity they shared for a time, the normalcy of being a fledgling couple. She simply missed him and had yet to find a way to break through their silly separation sooner than later.
With a huff, she unfurled a pair of jeans, shaking them free and laying them out on the bed next to an old Fleetwood Mac shirt. She finished in the bathroom, hopped into the form fitting denim and as she reached for the shirt, the sound of an engine made her stop.
For a moment she thought the houseboat was moving but a quick peek out the window and through the sunlight, Mac caught an approaching vessel that circled around their houseboat once and then slowed to align itself next to the bow. She thought it would leave, that Harm would signal the driver and the boat would be on its way but when the driver shut off the engines, her heart began to race.
Annoying, her first thought was Clayton Webb.
Had he found her? As unlikely as it was, she could never be sure. Another glance at the boat and Mac noticed the bold, black letters which spelled 'Police' across the hull that denoted it was piloted by a State Trooper. Nevertheless, the CIA had tricks, plenty of them and having an officer pretend to be something else was the norm.
Her heart still raced when Mac plucked her pistol out of her suitcase and racked it. She tucked the set across the houseboat at a brisk pace, tucking the weapon into the waistband at the small of her back as she slid the glass doors open.
The sound of Harm speaking amplified the closer she came to the bow and once she stepped through the doors, Mac could feel the other man's eyes on her. The conversation between both men instantly stopped and she saw Harm staring at her incredulously as if she were meant to be anywhere but there.
In the months that Winters had seen Jacob Kaine, the man was rumored to be a recluse. Always alone he kept to himself, spending several days and then disappearing only to return again just as alone. There was never another person with him and certainly not a woman.
And this wasn't just any woman. Even clad in jeans and a t-shirt, the lady was damned attractive and he stared between the pair with an amused grin. "Morning, ma'am."
"Officer."
"Sergeant Eric Winters ma'am, Missouri State Troopers." He emphasized his rank and pinched the edge of the ball cap in salutation. "Pleasure is all mine." With a dramatic gesture he waved his hand at the houseboat. "And here I thought Jake was all alone."
"I was. Not anymore." Harm straightened and let the pump fall from his hand when Mac came to his side. His arm circled her waist where he felt the hard metal of her pistol hidden beneath her shirt. "This is…my wife."
It took a beat for her heart to begin working again and even as it did, the sudden, wild beating couldn't stop. Wife. Oh, how she wished that were true. Mac only hoped the mask of her face remained in place and didn't show her obvious shock.
"Wife?" Winters grinned as he gave Mac another once over. "Didn't peg you as the married type. How long? Recent change in bachelor status?"
"Actually-"
"Nine years, almost ten." Mac interjected suddenly. She dropped a hand to Harm's midsection and gently ran zig zags around his abs that she felt tense from her touch. "We had a bump in the road - a big one, huge really - we only just got back together. I guess were a little complicated ans Jake has a habit of pushing my buttons."
Winters raised a brow and shook his head slowly, he wasn't sure what to make of the pair and his usual, inquisitive mind kept fishing for more information. "Hah. Us men like pushing buttons, we're dumb that way….So, what's yout name?"
"Eliza…Eli."
"Nice to meet you Eliza, Eli. Keep Jake here outta trouble will ya? You seem like a no bullshit type."
"I can't keep that promise, trouble finds Jake."
Winters laughed as if he and Mac were sharing a private joke while Harm rolled his eyes and pretended to be offended. He attempted to turn on the ignition but the engines groaned and sputtered four times until he turned the key to the 'choke' position then tried again. "Well, I best be on my way. There's a pretty big storm coming tonight, I suggest wherever you go, you get back early."
"Thank you Sergeant."
"I'll see you around Jake, Eli." He winked at Mac, slid his glasses on and then was gone.
Once the boat was out of sight, Harm reached under Mac's shirt to pull out the pistol, not surprised to find it with one in the chamber. "You didn't have to bring the gun."
"Well, I was worried. I had one of my feelings you normally trust." She took the pistol away from him and tucked it back into her jeans.
He sighed. "I still trust your intuition, Mac. But Jake doesn't work for Webb."
"You sure of that?" Mac watched him pumping air into the boat, ensuring that the shell was rigid enough to be lake worthy. "Because Webb-"
"Yeah, I am. I trust you. You need to trust me."
"Okay." But she would still carry a weapon wherever they went.
The waters were calm that day and the light breeze with the strong scent of atmosphere ushered in the changing of the seasons. Whatever tourists were left had begun to dissipate and as Harm guided the small boat to a sandy beach, he was graced with only a few groups of families dotting the shore.
He helped her out, carried a squealing Mac onto the sand so that her hiking boots wouldn't get wet. The dinghy was tightly secured to a fallen tree and as he donned his backpack and she took hers, the pair set off hiking towards the ruins.
The 'castle' was built in 1905 and completely destroyed by fire in the 1940s. It's story was s businessman's fairytale that was destroyed by financial ruins and yet, the shell that was left behind was majestic.
Harm imagined it would have been a sight to behold, waking each day and looking over the rocky cliff that overlooked the water. He found such delight in following Mac's lead as she walked around the stoney ruins, stopping here and there to take in the ancient looking architecture.
He lamented not having a camera when she stopped at an archway and was framed between the stones. The sun from above shone directly atop her. Even wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a boonie hat, Mac was still the most beautiful woman he knew. She was simple, sweet and the very balm that hoped to erase the hell they'd been put through.
Wistfully, he came to her side when she called him over and at once his lips pressed against hers. She tasted sweet and a little salty from sweat and, to Harm, it was like tasting Heaven. "Could you imagine waking up to this everyday? I wouldn't need a castle either, just a shack will do."
She smiled that beaming, wide smile that was so infectious Harm couldn't help but put the darker thoughts away. "Hmm, alone or am I joining you in the shack?"
"You're coming with, obviously. Wouldn't leave you behind for anything in the World."
They hiked down and found a semi-secluded spot by a shaded, grassy knoll which led to the beach. Some families played in the gentle surf and others dove from atop of one of the four houseboats anchored in the cove. Mac helped set up their spot, smoothing a blanket over the grass as Harm pulled out the items he brought for food. Sandwiches, fruits, effervescent water and even a medium canteen with hot coffee.
For a moment, just a breath, Webb's words echoed in her mind: 'Rabb's being investigated for treason.' She eyed him as they ate, noting the content expression with a little bit of veiled male arrogance that they'd pulled off their little picnic.
He'd taken care of making what she liked, how she liked it and even packed away a ziplock half full of the chocolate mints she adored, packaged so they wouldn't melt in the heat. A man who did this, all of this, wasn't a traitor and yet a little voice nagged her to check his computer. Mac wouldn't. She couldn't and so she made a pact to herself to ignore her misgivings.
"We're swimming, right?" Even as she aksed, Mac was sliding her jeans down one toned leg and then another until she stood in a modest, black one piece.
"Right behind ya."
The water was a little cold for swimming but they still wadded out into the lake and played like overgrown children. Harm hadn't laughed this hard in such a long time and found it was an element that was direly missing from his life.
She splashed him and he splashed back, dove under and grabbed Mac's waist beneath the water. More laughter and after they both started to shiver, the pair laid out in the sun in order to dry off.
A cool breeze swept across the beach and the farther the sun dipped, the colder the temperature which was perfect for his last surprise. They took turns changing behind a tree, Harm holding a towel up for her and Mac for him.
The limbs of the overturned tree made perfect kindling for a small fire that once was burning to Harm's liking, he used to make s'mores. A small kit was hidden in the bottom of his pack and if his previous smiles were infectious, this one could stop the sun in its axis when he pulled out the chocolate and marshmallows.
"S'mores?"
"Yep!"
"I've never-"
"You're kidding? Ms. Chocoholic herself has never had a s'more?"
She shook her head and shrugged. It was yet another piece of her childhood missed and one that Harm would rectify. "Nope. Show me how it's done."
The kind of concentration the man used to roast a marshmallow amused Mac to no end. He acted like a five star chef creating a meal for some dignitary as he showed her how long to roast and why a certain consistency was needed so that the marshmallow could melt the chocolate.
The result was a crispy, sweet and salty confection that Mac knew would find its way into her diet in some capacity. She made him one, wiped the chocolate from his lips with her finger and then kissed him. "Thank you."
"Is this enough, Mac?" He asked a while later when she sat between his thighs quietly watching the fire dance. "This day? Date? Whatever you want to call it. Is it enough?"
Am I enough? He wondered.
Mac leaned against him and threaded her fingers with his. "I'm an outdoor girl, Harm. You can wine and dine me all you like but this, this is enough. It's more than enough. You are enough."
Thunder rumbled in the distance when Harm tipped her face so that they could kiss. Even as the first few drops from an impending storm fell, Harm held Mac in a lover's embrace.