The Village of Gerard's Cliff by Carol Anne Vick

attracted to
her. There was just something about her that was eons apart from
any other woman he had known. But how could he foul it up so badly?
He rubbed his brows again, more than frustrated with his own
stupidity.
    He was starting to get a headache. He suspected that she
was going to ask him to leave at some point, probably in the not
too distant future. Why would she want him here, alone with her, now? He
imagined how strained his staying here would be....for both of
them.
    Getting up from the bed, Connor went to the closet, and
pulled out his suitcase . Might as well be prepared , he reasoned grimly. He laid it on the foot of the
bed, and started pulling items of clothing from the dresser. He
cursed under his breath, as he remembered that he was supposed to
go back to Max's Bar that night. It would have to be tomorrow,
then, he thought, cursing himself again. He threw a couple of pairs
of socks and some underwear into the suitcase.
    Feeling exhausted from the
drive into town, the unrelenting cold, the miserable rain, and
especially, the unfortunate events with Allie, made him pause and
rethink his actions. The splitting headache on top of it all sealed
his decision. Connor laid back down on the bed, and, despite his
headache, promptly fell into a deep sleep.
    "Connor..." He faintly
heard his name and a light tapping on his door. "Connor...!" There
it was again. He rolled over on his side, and propped up on an
elbow, drowsily opening his eyes and peering at his door, still
aware of a massive headache. Hell, What time was it? He rubbed his
forehead. He heard a different whispered plea this time "Please,
Connor, open the door, it's urgent." He rushed to the door, opened
it, and saw Allie standing there, her hair loose, and flowing down
her shoulders and back. She was wearing rose colored pajamas, and
was slightly huddled at his door, her hands clasped in front of her
chest, her feet bare, looking chilled.
    "What happened?" Connor
noticed the worried look on her face.
    "There's someone trying to
break in, right outside my bedroom window." She whispered. "I
stopped at the desk to call the police, but I don't know how long
it will take them to get here, we're so remote. I didn't want to
stay downstairs." She looked down the hall toward the stairs, then
fixed her eyes back on him. "Can we stay together until the police
arrive?" Still whispering, "We've never had this happen here
before."
    By way of answer, he put
his hand on her back and steered her into his room, staying at the
door to peer down the hall. As he quietly closed the door, he
noticed her eyeing his suitcase, still lying open at the foot of
his bed. They both knew, he was sure, that this was the least of
their problems, at this point. He was still fully dressed from the
night before, too exhausted to even remove his tennis shoes before
he fell asleep.
    "See if you can spot
anything from my window," he suggested.
    She walked to the
shuttered window, and peered out between the slats into the inn's
backyard. While her head was turned, he took the opportunity to
pull his Beretta from the side table drawer. He checked the
magazine, shoved it into the grip, then slid the gun down into the
waist of his jeans. He walked over to the closet and pulled out a
short brown jacket, and put it on, hoping she hadn't noticed
anything unusual.
    "I don't see anyone."
Allie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she continued to
peer out the window. "What I heard was muffled...kind of a thunking
sound. I've never heard it before."
    "Okay... well....I would
think the police should be here soon." He tried to sound
reassuring. "I'm going to check outside again." he turned before
leaving, "The inn has a basement, right?"
    "Yes, with half
windows."
    "Where are the entrances?"
he asked her quickly.
    "....inside there's a
narrow door in the hallway at the back of the kitchen, and outside
there's a walk-down a little ways from the porch door."
    He opened the bedroom door
carefully, and went