Like a Fox on the Run, стр. 130
It appeared to be daylight. There was muted sunlight coming through a drawn curtain. He was in some kind of room, lying in a bed. He could hear the faint beeping of some kind of equipment. A hospital. He began to realize his whole body had a dull ache to it, his joints and muscles were sore as he tested them. It was as if someone had taken a baseball bat and worked him over from head to toe. Even his hair hurt. At the same time, he deduced he probably would be hurting a lot worse if it weren’t for the painkillers that had dulled his senses and mental processes.
Mentally, he steadily kicked his way toward the surface of clarity. He didn’t like being under the influence of anything that clouded his judgement or took the edge off his instincts. Drugs, alcohol, emotions, women … any or all could get you dead in his line of work. Very quickly.
As the fog lifted, he became cognizant of the fact he was not alone. Somebody was in the room with him. Turning his head ever … so … slowly … as the slightest movement was an exercise in pain, he blinked the drowsiness out of his eyes and tried to focus on the individual who he now realized was sitting quietly in a chair beside his bed.
There was a familiarity about the man; he knew he should know him. He probably would’ve known him right off, if not in such an addled state. He was an older gentleman, in faded overalls, sort of scruffy, and in need of a shave. As the details became clearer, he began to make out something else, something on the side of his head. Something white, thick. It covered that entire side of his face, from his lower jaw all the way to the crown of his head. The old man smiled as their eyes met.
“Well now, Mr. Frost,” Gideon Tuttle’s wild eyes twinkled with delight. “You left so fast yesterday, I never got your name … I reckon it was prob’ly ‘cause you never counted on seeing me again, now did ya?” He gave a conspiratorial wink. “C’mon, be honest now. Why, I gotta be honest myself ... since we’re confessin’ here … I really didn’t figger on seein’ you again quite this soon either.” He leaned forward in the chair, and as he continued, his chin wagged up and down in enthusiastic emphasis, his head slanted at a forty-five-degree angle, the smile on it just as askew. “But don’t get me wrong! I assure you, my dear, dear Mr. Frost … I am pleased as punch to be sittin’ here with ya! Me and you … we got us some catchin’ up to do!”
***
Amber was awakening around the same time Tiger was falling asleep in Lulah’s arms. She had slept soundly in the guest room. Sitting up, she stretched lazily and yawned. Reaching for the denim shorts and tank top, she dressed quickly, then quietly made her way down the hall and into Britt’s room.
The little girl was still sound asleep, a polka-dotted comforter pulled up to her chin. She slept on her side, one arm under her pillow, the other clutching her stuffed pony tightly to her chest. A few strands of her hair had fallen across her face. Amber bent down beside the bed and wiped them back.
Such a beautiful child. She couldn’t explain why she was so drawn to the girl, but the attraction was undeniable. The feeling was mutual. The child felt it too. The very moment she’d first laid eyes on Amber, something unspoken had passed between the two.
The woman Tiger called Lulah was lucky to have such a wonderful, beautiful daughter. Something about her stirred feelings inside the vixen. Feelings she found strange and alien, while at the same time so comforting and fleetingly familiar.
Brittain stirred, as if sensing she was being watched. Drowsy eyes opened halfway, eyelids still heavy. “Good morning, Amber.” She smiled a sleepy smile. “Did you sleep well?”
Amber grinned sheepishly and signed to her. Brittain giggled at the remark and Amber leaned in and kissed her affectionately on the forehead.
It was then that it happened. An image flashing through her mind like lightning. Like the spark that occurs when an electrical connection is made. It was there and then it was gone in an instant. But it was just long enough for her to realize what it was.
Déjà vu!
It was a memory … somebody’s memory. No! It was hers! It had to be. It was just a millisecond. But it had been vivid enough. It froze her, staring down at Brittain, eyes wide now. I’ve done this before! She saw herself leaning down and kissing a child … another child … another place and another time … Suddenly she was dying to know more. When did this happen? Who was the child? Why couldn’t she remember more about it?
She sat back on her haunches and ran a finger lightly down the little girl’s nose, stroking it until she fell back asleep. Again, she had no idea why she knew to do this, only that it would work. It was only dawn, too early for a child to be up. Once she was back in dreamland, Amber stood up and gave her a last, longing look before turning for the door.
Closing her eyes, she let out a contented sigh and felt her tummy just below the navel. A smile of deep satisfaction turned the corners of her sensual mouth up as she allowed the moment to wash over her like the first golden rays of the morning sun through