All Night Long

alone.

----
    Luke gradually drifted back to full awareness. He took his time about it, savoring the feel of Irene’ ody curled alongside his own. Her head was cradled on his arm. She had one palm resting on his chest and one foot wedged tantalizingly intimately between his legs. He felt her flex her toes a few times as though she liked touching him that way.
    A warm, heavy, very bright sensation drifted through him. He could not remember the last time he had felt like this.
    Maybe never. He shoved a pillow under his head and smiled into the shadows.
    “‘Ooh rah,” he mumbled.
    “I was just thinking the same thing.” She folded her arms on his chest and rested her chin on her hands. “I’ve never actually had that happen with a man.”
    He went blank for a few seconds. “A woman?”
    She smiled and slowly shook her head. “When I’m in the mood, I sometimes get lucky with Big Guy.”
    “Maybe I shouldn’t ask, but just who is Big Guy?”
    “My vibrator. But I have to say that the experience has never been anywhere near as intense as wha ust happened. What I get with Big Guy is more like a good sneeze.”
    “So, what you’re saying is that I’m better than a vibrator and a good sneeze?”
    “You are, indeed. Don’t let it go to your head.”
    He grinned. “Be hard not to.”
    “One of my therapists told me that the reason I couldn’t climax with a man was because I had intimacy issues. Something to do with a fear of letting myself get too close emotionally.”
    “Ever been married?” he asked.
    “Right after college, for about a year and a half. My aunt had just died, and I wanted so desperatel ot to be alone.”
    He traced the outline of her ear with his finger. “I understand.”

    “It didn’t work out. My fault. My little obsession problems were starting to kick in big time back then. Rick tried to be sympathetic, but given my issues with sex, occasional nightmares and my erratic sleep habits, he just sort of burned out. I was on my third therapist. She suggested meds. When I refused to take them, Rick threw up his hands and left. I didn’t blame him. It was a relief for both of us when it ended.”
    “You were in that other zone.” He twisted his fingers gently in her hair. “He couldn’t reach you.”
    “And I couldn’t reach him. Like I said, it wasn’t his fault. I knew I had some work to do before I coul e with anyone. I had to get past the past. And I did try. I really did. I’ve seen three more therapist ince the divorce. I finally tried the meds for a while. They helped a little. But I kept coming back t he fact that I wanted answers about what had happened in the past.”
    “Sometimes we don’t get the answers,” he said.
    “I know.” She hesitated. “I suppose that’s why I went into journalism. I couldn’t get answers in my own life, so I got into a line of work that gives me the ideal excuse to look for answers in other places and other lives.”
    “I’m not sure it was a good idea for you to come back here to Dunsley, but speaking from a purel elfish point of view, I’m damn glad you did.”
    She tilted her head a little. “I hated the thought of coming back here, but I think in a way it’s been cathartic.”
    “Even if you don’t end up with all the answers?”
    “I’m wrestling demons here in Dunsley. I may not subdue them, but—”
    “But you’re no longer trying to pretend they don’t exist.”
    “Believe it or not, that feels like progress.”

----
    When he awoke he was amazed to see the glow of early morning illuminating the world outside the
p.
    cabin. Irene still slumbered beside him. He knew she had not stirred or felt compelled to leave the bed during the night. He would have sensed such movement.
    What amazed and astounded him was that he had slept just as soundly.

Twenty-Seven
    Hoyt checked his watch in the same nervous, habitual way he did a thousand times a day. The small action never failed to irritate Ryland.
    “I’ve arranged for you to give a short statement to some selected media immediately following th ervice, sir.” Hoyt handed him a folder. “I also canceled the business club luncheon this afternoon and tonight’s fund-raiser, but we’ll be back on the regular schedule tomorrow.”
    Ryland opened the folder and read the statement. The request for privacy for a grieving father and the promise to introduce the bill to fund more mental health research was precisely what he had expected.
    He closed the folder and