Rapture

She seemed subdued, in a dreamy, wistful kind of way, as she leaned back against the door frame and looked at him. He was no longer a successful businessman, he wasn't even an old acquaintance enjoying a nostalgic reunion. He was a trembling schoolboy saying good night to the girl he had never really stopped wanting in his life. And she looked better than ever, a picture he would keep, if only he could.... He brought his hand up into her hair and kissed her. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but gentle, lingering, open-mouthed. It was a moment he wanted never to end, the past made perfect in a simple act of innocent but deeply felt affection. No, not just affection-love.

"Jeff ..."

Instinctively, he kissed her on the cheek to lighten the moment. But secretly he was thrilled. He had finally done it. He had kissed her, not like a brother or a harmless friend, but the way a man kisses a woman. And it had done no apparent damage.

"See you at breakfast," Georgianne whispered. Then she pulled back slightly, a small but clear step.

On the drive to his hotel, and until sleep overtook him, Jeff wondered about that last look on her face in the doorway. It was impossible to decipher, but endlessly fascinating. Had he seen sorrow in her expression? Perhaps, but happiness, too-he was sure of that. And there was more-a fire, an undefined longing for something ... or someone. Had he awakened that in her? He wanted to believe that more than anything, but he knew it was too early to tell. Still, it was all beginning to drift in the right direction as far as he was concerned; that much was undeniable.

Jeff sprawled across the bed and started laughing quietly. The laughter grew, a rhythm that took hold of his entire body. You're delirious, he told himself, enraptured, enthralled, on your way off the deep end. You know that, don't you?

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes ..."

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CHAPTER TEN

"I didn't think you'd make it," Sean said.

"Neither did I."

"How do you feel?"

"Fine, more or less."

"Think you can do some jogging?"

"Sure, but not very far."

"Well, I'll be easy on you," Sean promised unconvincingly, "seeing as how you're a smoker and all."

"Thanks."

Sleepy but not too hung over, Jeff had made it to the Corcoran house on time. Sean was already in the driveway, going through a routine of stretching exercises. He wore a proper running suit and shoes, whereas Jeff had on slacks and a T-shirt and an ordinary pair of sneakers. He resented having to go through with this nonsense, but he kept thinking ahead to breakfast with Georgianne.

Sean parked the wagon on a side street near the en trance to the Gorge. There was a plaque mounted on a boulder just inside, where several paths diverged.

"It's a beautiful place," Sean said, leading the way. "Every September we hove a real invasion of out-oftowners, who come to see the leaves turning color."

Within a few minutes, the trail they had taken brought them to the edge of the Gorge itself. An old rail fence had been put up in places to keep people from wandering off the edge. It was a steep drop to the Bullet River, a narrow band of violent water rushing through a rocky cut. Jeff was impressed by the wild, raw look of it.

"Two or three people fall in every year," Sean said.

'Really? It does look dangerous."

"Outsiders who don't know their way around, or kids who've had too much to drink. Some of them survive, and some don't." Sean pointed ahead. "You can see places where there's no fencing, just undergrowth. Foxrock's a small town, so there's not a lot of money, and this isn't a managed park. It's just ground that's too wild and rocky and hilly to be developed. The river runs through town, bringing this finger of land with it. Nobody's figured out what to do with it, and I hope they never do. I like it just the way it is."

They had walked perhaps a quarter of a mile, with the rocky Gorge always nearby on their left. The ground was heavily wooded and thick with tall grass and brush, but the path was well worn. It never ran straight for more than a few yards before dipping to the right or left, then rising again, swinging up, looping around stone outcrops, threading past clumps of birches. In spite of himself, Jeff liked the place, liked the idea that it was so close to town yet so wild and secluded.

"Ready for a little run?"

"Uh ... yeah, I guess so."

"Keep me in sight, because we'll be crossing other paths, and give a holler if you want to stop and catch your breath."

Sean took off at a slow trot, and Jeff stayed close behind. At first it wasn't as bad as he had expected. He had no trouble keeping up with Sean, as he quickly found an easy rhythm for his breathing. The only awkward part was the ground itself, which was so rough and irregular that he had to keep his eyes on it all the time to avoid a misstep. They were moving gradually away from the Gorge, he reckoned, since he could no longer hear the roaring river. But they hadn't gone too far when Sean surprised him by stopping.