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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

Editor's Note: Jenny Walker has graciously allowed me to represent her original story No Half Measures on BigCloset. Originally published on BigCloset Classic, this story segment was not migrated over to BigCloset TopShelf. This story segment first appeared on BigCloset Classic on Sunday, November 02, 2003 - 02:48 pm. Due to the original story presentation format being unsuitable and unwieldy for most portable devices (each part being over 1 meg in length), the story is now being broken up into single chapters for easier reading. The original Movements will be indicated on their respective chapters. The first chapter of each Movement will retain the original comments and read hits so as to preserve them for the author.

Sephrena Lynn Miller

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Chapter 34
 
 
The next morning, I was trying to pack my bag for the trip, but was having difficulty deciding exactly which clothes I would need. What occasions would present themselves to me? What different outfits might I require? I stood back and scowled as I thought.

Jools chuckled from where she was squatting on my bed. "Now you know why we girls can't travel light."

"Yeah, I mean I bet Jon has no bother at all. A pair of jeans or two, some shorts, one or two shirts or T-shirts and bingo — all sorted."

"Yes, but do you wish you could be back to having it that simple?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Heavens, no. My choices may be difficult, but at least they aren't boring."

With Jools' help, I eventually got my rather large bag packed and was all set to head downstairs. Jon had been arranging to have a hire car delivered to the hotel for us.

"You're really excited about this, aren't you?" Jools said with a little grin on her face.

I laughed. "Is it that obvious?"

She chuckled. "You're practically glowing."

I sighed. "I don't know why I'm getting myself all worked up. It's not as if anything is going to happen."

Jools shrugged. "Look, just have a good time, enjoy each other's company and who knows what might happen?"

I smiled and hugged her. "Do I look OK?"

I was wearing a simple, sleeveless, pink sun top and my denim miniskirt. I had my hair pulled back into a ponytail and had the bare minimum on in the way of make up.

"Go knock him dead!" she said.
 

*          *          *
 
"You hired a convertible?" I asked.

Jon ran his hand along the sleek curves of the red Chrysler. "It's the Californian way," he explained. "There was no other choice I could have made. Don't you like it?"

"Oh, I love it," I said in a voice that almost sounded like a purr.

"Here, let me put your bag in the boot…" He rolled his eyes, "or the trunk as they would have us call it here." He picked up my bag and frowned. "What on earth do you have in here? It weighs a ton!"

I shrugged and said defensively, "Hey, a girl has to be prepared for any eventuality."

He rolled his eyes again and shut the boot. "Ready to go?" he said with a boyish grin.

"You bet! Can I drive?" I asked enthusiastically.

"No."

"Please?"

"I'm afraid not. It's just the way things are." He put on his sunglasses. "My job is to drive and look cool. Yours is to sit in the passenger seat and look pretty."

I pouted, but he just laughed at me as he held my door open for me.
 

*          *          *
 
With the top down, the music playing and the wind rushing through our hair as the sun glared down from a brilliant blue sky, I was thinking that there was a lot to be said for the California way of life. I was aware that I was idealising things, but I was in a pretty good mood and was quite happy to romanticise the situation.

"So what's the plan?" I asked.

"I could tell you zat, but zen I'd haff to keel you," Jon replied in an awful accent.

I laughed. "Very funny, now spill the beans."

He grinned. "OK, I was thinking we'll take our time today. There's no way we'd make it to Yosemite in time to do anything much, so we're heading for Fresno where we'll stay tonight. Then tomorrow, we'll head into the park early and do some hiking. I've booked us in for two nights at 'The Ahwahnee' in Yosemite Village, and I think you will find it very much to your liking."

"Sounds good," I said as I curled one of my legs underneath me and lifted my face to enjoy the oncoming rush of air.

A thought struck me. Had he booked two rooms or one? I mentally shook myself — of course it would be two rooms. Would it not? I realised that I couldn’t exactly ask him as it would be too awkward, so I resigned myself to having to wait and see. We turned north onto Route 99 and headed towards the San Joaquin Valley. The scenery began to change from the coastal landscapes and surrounding hills to flat, lush valleys. I saw rows and rows of vines on either side of the road as far as the eye could see.

"Is this where the famous Californian wines come from?" I asked Jon.

He thought for a moment before replying. "You're thinking of the Napa Valley, aren't you? That's further north. I'm not sure what wines from here are like. I'm not exactly an expert."

I grinned. "Me neither."
 

*          *          *
 
"Hungry?" Jon asked.

"Yes, and thirsty."

We had stopped for coffee an hour previously, and eventually had to put the top back up on our car. The midday sun was too much for us to bear and, with the roof on, we could immerse ourselves in the icy jets from the car's air conditioning. However, it was definitely approaching lunchtime.

"I want to get somewhere nice to stop," Jon murmured.

I groaned. "Don't tell me you are going to be like my father."

"What do you mean?"

I smiled. "I remember family holidays when I was younger. We would be driving along heading to our next destination and we all wanted to stop for lunch. Dad was determined to get the right spot to stop at. He was paranoid that if we stopped at the locations we pointed out, when we drove on we would find that a far better place had been just around the next corner." I chuckled as I remembered. "Some days it was nearer tea-time before we got our lunch!"

Jon laughed. "I promise not to be like that. I was thinking we'd stop in Bakersfield, but it's bigger than I thought. I don't fancy having to find somewhere in a city. Let's drive on and stop in the next small town."

The next small town was just off Route 99 and had the intriguing name of 'Shafter'. This provoked a few laughs between us. I was not quite sure if the slang of 'shafter' or 'shafted' meant quite the same this side of the Atlantic as it did back home, but we found it amusing anyway. It was a small pretty town with a grassy square at its heart.

"This is it," Jon said with satisfaction as he parked the car and turned off the engine.

"Sure?" I asked. "I mean, what if the next town is even prettier?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Come on, let's get something to eat."

We enjoyed a simple, but tasty lunch in a little restaurant that had a first floor balcony overlooking the square. More importantly, the balcony was shaded and afforded welcome respite from the sun. After lunch, we enjoyed a leisurely coffee and were content to sit for a while and watch the world go slowly by.

"We had better get going," Jon said as he stood up.

I smiled. "What's the rush?"

He shrugged and grinned. "I'm missing my car. I want to spend as much time in it as possible. Got to get my money's worth."

I laughed. "Well you can sleep in it if you want. In which case, we could have got away with only booking one room."

Yes, I know I was being devious, but it was an opportunity to reassure myself. I was not quite sure whether I was reassured or disappointed.

He laughed. "You're right. Now why didn't I think of that?"

I tossed my head and smiled primly. "Because I'm the brains of this operation; you're the brawn, remember?"
 

*          *          *
 
It was just before five p.m. when we entered the outskirts of Fresno. We had not been rushing ourselves as we were under no pressure of time. We had even stopped briefly at one of the vineyards along the road to see what it was like. Having been offered a free sample glass of wine, we sniffed it and swirled it in the glass, as if we were connoisseurs, before tasting it. Jon had made a few seemingly knowledgeable comments that had taken me by surprise. When we had got back to the car, I had asked him what he had been talking about. He had shrugged, laughed and admitted he had been bluffing.

As the car stopped at a busy intersection, Jon turned to me. "Err… Cara? You know how I said we are staying in a luxurious hotel when we are in Yosemite?"

"Yes?" I replied slowly wondering what was coming next.

"Well… it was hard to get those reservations given that it is the middle of summer and all." He hesitated and smiled apologetically. "I wasn't quite so lucky for Fresno…"

I looked at him. "Uh-oh, so where are we staying?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure it will be fine. It's just maybe not what you're used to, after the last week or so."

He was right: it was not the Waldorf or the Malibu Beach Inn. The San Joaquin Country Inn was a two storey small motel on the edge of Fresno. To say it was mature would be a nice way of phrasing it. I was somewhat apprehensive about the standard of the accommodation as we entered the lobby.

"Howdy 'n' welcome to the San Joaquin Country Inn," boomed a cheery red-faced woman from behind the desk. She looked to be in her fifties and was wearing a gingham dress.

Jon smiled and approached the counter. "My name is Jon Peters. We've a reservation for tonight."

"Yes, Mr. Peters. We've been expecting you. I'm Sheila Egerton. Me and my man, Bob, we own this li'l place here. And this must be Mrs. Peters?"

I nearly swallowed my sunglasses and tried to choke the giggle that I could feel rising from my throat. Jon shifted his feet and shook his head. He was reddening a little.

"Err… no. This is my… friend, Cara Malone."

Sheila did not look too fazed. I imagined she had seen all sorts of pairings and arrangements. She nodded. "Let me check - it was two rooms you wanted?"

We got our keys and filled in the required registration forms.

"Now will you be planning to join us for dinner? We've got some good specials on tonight."

Jon looked taken aback and hesitated. "Well… yes, I suppose we could…"

"That's great," Sheila gushed. She smiled and continued, "And you folks are in luck. Tonight, in the bar, is line dancing night. You'll be most welcome."

"Thank you," Jon said with some difficulty and we high-tailed it around the corner out of earshot before we could release the laughter that had been building up.

"So we're dining here tonight?" I asked.

He shrugged. "What can I say? She intimidated me into agreeing."

I grinned. "Well, if we're dining here tonight, then I say we give the line dancing a go."

He looked at me as if I was mad. "You're not serious, are you?"

I merely smiled and pointed to my bag at our feet. "Am I going to have to carry my bag to my room or will you be a gentleman? Come on, I need to freshen up for tonight's festivities."
 

*          *          *
 
The food was plain, but well cooked. The restaurant, similarly, was nothing fancy, but the service was friendly and prompt. I realised that a hotel did not have to be the last word in luxury or finery to have something to commend itself to you. Charm and individuality went a long way too. I got the impression that this place, although a motel, catered for a lot of locals as the waitresses seemed to be on first name terms with many of the diners. There was a friendly relaxed buzz of conversation and I found myself enjoying it more than I had expected.

My room had not been a total disappointment either. It was very clean and, whilst not overdone on the comfort side, was certainly more than adequate. I had enjoyed a refreshing shower and had tried to dress as appropriately as I could for this establishment: a white blouse and a long denim skirt seemed to fit the bill.

"See, I knew this place would be good," Jon said with a wink.

I laughed. "You got away with it this time, mister. Next time, you may not be so lucky. Let's see how good you are at the line dancing though."

He grimaced. "Really? Do we have to?"

I nodded. "Oh, come on. Let's sample a bit of local culture."

"But I haven't a clue what to do," he protested.

I shrugged. "Me neither. It'll be fun."

He did not look convinced.
 

*          *          *
 
The bar was quite crowded, but it was not claustrophobic as it had a large central wooden dance floor and numerous tables and booths scattered around the periphery. Bob, Sheila's husband, was the master of ceremonies and when we arrived, the line dancing was in full flow. Jon immediately glued himself to a chair at a nearby table and made a pretence of wanting something to drink.

"You're stalling," I said.

He nodded. "Absolutely right."

I sighed. "I guess I'll have to dance alone."

"Oh you won't be alone. There's dozens of people up dancing. Since you don't need a partner for this anyway, there's no need for me to embarrass myself."

I pouted and gave him my best doe-eyed look. "Jon, please," I said softly.

He laughed. "OK, OK. Just stop looking at me like that. You're making me feel bad."

I grinned and stood up. "Shall we?"

We joined the end of one line and tried to follow what was going on. It was patently evident to anyone watching, including the blind man in the corner, that neither of us had a clue as to what we were doing. Nobody seemed to mind though and, as time went on, we sort of started to pick it up. I was surprised at how energetic line dancing actually was. It looks quite pedestrian, but after some time, you realise that it takes a fair bit of stamina. Although he was reluctant to admit it, Jon appeared to be enjoying himself too.

Later in the evening, Bob brought the latest routine to a halt and said, "All right folks, you've been dancing solo all night. Now's the time to grab yourselves a partner for the last dance."

I looked at Jon and he looked back at me. He held his hand out to me and gallantly said, "If I may have the pleasure, milady?"

I gave a mock-curtsey and said, "The pleasure's all mine, kind sir."

Bob spoke again, "Now that you're all ready: ladies, never forget the truth of this great song…"

He started the old turntable and I could not believe what I was hearing. The infamous chords of 'Stand by Your Man' blared from the speakers.

I turned to Jon, "Is this for real?"

He laughed and shrugged. "Hey, you said you liked the down to earth feel of this place. This is what you get."

I smiled and placed my arms around his neck. He tentatively put his arms around my waist and we tried our best to dance. I think both of us felt like bursting out laughing with each chorus, but we managed to contain ourselves.

Afterwards, we walked upstairs to our rooms and we stopped outside mine. Jon paused and leant on the door frame.

"Umm… I had a really nice time tonight," he said hesitantly.

"Me too," I said, almost breathless.

For a moment, I thought he was going to lean forward and kiss me, but he just squeezed my shoulder and smiled. "Get a good night's rest. Early start tomorrow and we've a lot of walking to do. Night, Cara."

"Night, Jon," I murmured as I went into my room.

I closed the door behind me, leant back against it and exhaled slowly. 'Get a grip, girl,' I told myself. I could not help but smile to myself, however, as I got ready for bed. I lay down and told myself that tomorrow was another day.
 

*          *          *
 
I woke early the next morning and jumped out of bed, feeling full of anticipation for the day ahead. I showered, washed my hair and suffered through the recurring chore of deciding what to wear. Practicality was the order of the day. After all, we were going to spend most of it hiking. I settled on a loose white tie-off blouse and a pair of cut-off denim shorts. My walking socks and hiking boots would never win any awards for fashion, but necessity won over form. After adding a hint of make up, I scraped my hair back into a ponytail and popped on a baseball cap. I grinned at myself in the mirror and then almost laughed.

"Settle your head," I murmured to myself, "It's as if you're a little girl again."

That thought stopped me in my tracks. I reminded myself that I had never actually been a little girl. I took a deep breath. Was I starting to lose it or something?

Thankfully I was spared from having to answer my own question by a knock on the door. It was Jon. He was wearing a T-shirt and shorts and was raring to go.

"Sleep well?" he enquired as we sat down for breakfast.

"Yes, great," I lied. It had taken me some time to get to sleep and I had woken several times during the night. I was pretending to myself that I didn't know why this was the case. "And you?"

He grinned, "Like the proverbial log."

He tucked into a hearty breakfast. Although I knew that we had a hard day's activity ahead, I did not have much of an appetite.

"What's up with you?" Jon asked as he speared a pancake from my plate.

I smiled. "Maybe I'm a little excited at the thought of the scenery we're going to see today."

He nodded and smiled. "Me too," he said with his mouth half-full of my pancake.
 

*          *          *
 
We entered Yosemite National Park, driving in silence as we both appreciated the scenery. The road was ascending gently with each mile we covered. Majestic trees reared high above us and, every so often, we caught a glimpse of the mountains behind the leafy walls that guarded the road.

"Beautiful," murmured Jon.

"Why thank you. You're looking pretty good yourself today." I said with a grin.

He looked at me with an expression approaching shock. "I err… that is… well I was sort of talking about the view."

I giggled and patted him on the arm. "I know, I'm teasing."

He blew out his cheeks, shook his head and then smiled as he murmured, "Why do I have to put up with you?"

I tossed my head. "You just can't do without my sparkling company."

He sighed. "You're right, I can't live without you."

I snapped my head round to look at him and he gave me a large wink. "Gotcha."

We both laughed.
 
 
Eventually we arrived at Yosemite Village. It seemed almost wrong that a place as naturally beautiful as Yosemite Valley should have this mini slice of urbanity imposed upon it, but I suppose it did provide some valuable functions. We stocked up with water and some food for our trek and then drove on to the trailhead. I was glad to escape the thronging crowds that seemed to carpet the valley floor. I hoped that they were all intending to get out and experience the rugged beauty of this beautiful little corner of creation, but I guessed that, for some, the closest they would get to nature would be the photos of the various sights in the Visitors' Centre.

Little corner of creation? Jon, who let me say is a veritable mine of trivia, had informed me that Yosemite National Park covers an area larger than the state of Rhode Island. I was reminded again of the grand scale of this country. It was also emphasised by the fact that we had to drive another thirteen miles just to get to our trailhead.
 

*          *          *
 
We parked the car and Jon put all the provisions in his backpack. I protested that I could carry some, but he insisted that it was not too heavy. We descended a path for a short distance, before turning onto a path that inclined slightly upwards.

"So, tell me again where we are going?" I asked.

He grinned. "To Sentinel Dome."

I batted my eyelids as I smiled sweetly. "And that is?"

He chuckled. "OK, it is the second highest viewpoint over Yosemite Valley and one of the most popular trails in the park."

"So why aren't we doing the highest viewpoint?"

"Ah, that's for tomorrow. It's about a ten hour hike to Half Dome and back so we need a full day for it."

It was wonderful to be out in the fresh air and in the relative seclusion of the forest. There were a few other hikers on the trail, but it was in no way crowded. It was as if the vast expanse of nature was helping us to free our minds. We talked about the events of the last few months. The good and the bad. We laughed as we recalled highlights from recording in the studio. I talked about my Mum's death and the trouble with my father. It was not without its pain, but it felt cathartic to talk about it, especially in such beautiful surroundings. Jon talked about Tanya and how things just did not work out. As Jon had always had a bit of a reputation with the ladies, I was actually quite surprised when he let it slip that they had never slept together. Apparently, they had been heading in that direction on the fateful night in the Kent hotel after the big party, but we all knew what had put paid to that. I think he realised that he had said too much and he quieted down after that.
 
 
After walking along one of the park roads for a short time, we veered off onto another forest trail. Under the trees, the air was cooler, but it seemed thicker. It was aromatic and quite sweet smelling. Before too long, we came to what Jon informed me was the north base of the dome. There was a steep path over a rocky surface which led up to the summit of the dome.

"We've to go up there?" I asked.

Jon nodded. "It's not too far, really."

It was fairly strenuous, however, and before long, we were walking in silence. It was not that we had nothing to say to each other, but more that neither of us had the breath with which to speak. The combination of the effort of climbing and the increasing heat from the sun overhead conspired to make me aware of the rivulets of perspiration beginning to form on my brow.

"Are we nearly there?" I gasped.

Jon paused and chuckled. "How would I know? I've never been here before."

I sighed. "Damn it! Just tell me we are nearly there so I can urge my body to keep going."

Jon nodded seriously and said, "Yes, then, we are nearly there."

"This better be worth it," I muttered.

It was.
 

*          *          *
 
As we walked out onto the bald dome, I was almost overcome with the incredible vista that stretched out in every direction as far as the eye could see. Looking down, one could see the valley floor far below with the miniature cars beetling about. The stark face of El Capitan rose majestically from the valley, like an old man presiding over his dominion. Turning round some more I could see Yosemite Falls cascading down one side of the valley.

"It's awesome," I murmured with hushed reverence.

"Isn't it?" Jon agreed.

He directed my gaze to another rocky outcrop. "Look up there."

"What's that?" I asked.

He grinned. "Half Dome. That's where we're going tomorrow."

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Why do I get the impression that today is only the warm up?"

He laughed and did not respond. I do not know how long I spent just standing there drinking in the sheer splendour of the magnificent panorama that threatened to overwhelm my senses. Eventually a few protests from tired leg muscles reminded me that I was still standing, so I plopped myself down on the rocky surface and looked out over the world. Jon sat down beside me and I leaned over against him before I realised what I was doing. I almost expected him to move away or get up, but what he did surprised me even more. He put his arm around my shoulders. I looked up at him with surprise. He smiled down at me.

"Shush," he whispered, "Just enjoy the moment."

I did.
 

*          *          *
 
After a while, we awkwardly disentangled ourselves from each other and found a shady spot for lunch.

"Sure you don't want us to do a quick hike over to Half Dome in case that is a better spot to eat?" I quipped.

He laughed and shook his head. "I'm not rising to it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Then I guess I'll have to try harder."

It was amazing how mass-produced sandwiches could taste so good simply by eating them in a wonderful setting. It was as if the brilliance of the scenery enhanced their taste. I could not explain it, I simply enjoyed it. The hunger from our exertions might also have had something to do with it.
 
 
Eventually we decided that we had to tear ourselves away from the glorious view and we began to descend from the dome back to the path. At the bottom of the dome, I was really starting to feel uncomfortable. I scratched and wriggled.

"What's wrong with you?" Jon asked.

"Nothing," I replied, but within a minute, I was scratching again.

"What is it?" he asked again.

I stopped and sighed. "If you must know, my bra is cutting into me."

"Oh," he said. Then with a cheeky grin he said, "Why don't you take it off then?"

I was about to chide him for his impudence, but then I thought about it and shrugged. "Good idea."

The look on his face was priceless. "Err… do you want me to turn away."

"No need," I said matter-of-factly.

I proceeded to reach up inside my blouse and unsnap my bra. Then I quickly pulled one arm inside my blouse and out of the bra strap. I did the same for the other arm and whipped out my bra.

"Ahh," I sighed. "Much better."

I walked over to Jon who was dumbstruck and I opened his backpack and dropped my bra into it.

"How on earth did you do that?" he asked.

I laughed and winked. "Secrets of the sisterhood."

I turned back to him and casually said, "Oh remind me to get that from your backpack at the end of the day… that is unless you want it as a souvenir."

He gasped, "Cara Malone, you are the limit - I'm going to grab you and tickle you…"

I squealed and turned to run from him, but I slipped on a rock and felt a sickening pain as I went over on my right ankle. "Ow," I moaned as I fell to the ground.

"What's wrong?" Jon asked, having suddenly switched from jocularity to concern.

"It's my ankle. I went over on it." I grimaced with the pain.

"Here, let me see." He bent down and carefully began to take my boot off.

"Be gentle," I warned as I gritted my teeth.

He slipped the boot off and gingerly felt around my ankle. "Can you move it?"

I nodded and moved it up and down while wincing. He gently squeezed over the ligaments and I gasped, "Ow, ow!"

"Sorry," he apologised. "I think it's just sprained, but we'd better get your boot back on before it swells up too much."

Getting the boot off had been a cinch compared to the pain of getting it back on. At last, it was in place and loosely laced up.

"Here, take my hand," Jon said as he helped me up.

I tested my weight on it and winced again. "Damn, damn!" I said with frustration.

"Cara, I'm really sorry…"

"It's not your fault, Jon. It's just one of those things."

"Can you walk on it?"

I paused and looked at him. "I'm going to have to, aren't I? There are a few miles between us and the car."

"Come here, let me help you."

"I'm OK," I protested.

"No you're not," he said gently and walked over to me. "Come on, put your right arm around my neck and I'll help you."

I nodded with resignation and did as he instructed. I felt his arm slide around my waist.

He looked down at me and grinned. "Ready, quick march!"

I grinned despite myself. However, the marching was anything but quick. My ankle was really throbbing and it was like getting an electric shock each time I put it to the ground. I found myself leaning more and more on Jon. Inwardly I mused that Jools would have a good laugh at this. She would think I had done it on purpose just to get close to Jon. She would actually be disappointed that she had not thought to suggest such an idea.

"You OK?" Jon asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry, I hope I'm not putting a strain on you?"

"Not at all. Do you want to stop for a quick break?"

Our progress was slow and stilted with frequent stops for a rest. Several hikers were overtaking us and each group stopped to check if we were alright. It became a bit tedious to have to thank each of them for their concern and assure them that we would manage. To pass the time, Jon and I invented crazy responses we dared each other to give to the next group that asked.

Jon winked. "I'm sorry, but my girlfriend was giving me cheek, so I wrestled her to the ground and wrenched her ankle to teach her a lesson."

I gasped and hit him gently on the arm. However, the feeling I got inside me when he called me his girlfriend made me feel like a silly teenager. I mean, I knew he was only jesting.

I sighed. "Yes, I twisted my ankle when I landed a roundhouse kick to my boyfriend's stomach when he suggested I take off my bra."

Jon guffawed. "I dare you to say that to the next one that asks."

"You're on," I said gamely.

He looked at me uncertainly. "Err… you won't, will you?"

I laughed and winked.

He sighed. "Darn, you get me every time."
 

*          *          *
 
We made pitifully slow progress and the light was beginning to fade. We had not seen another hiker during the last hour and we were both getting more tired. We took another break.

"I can't go on," I sighed. "I'm bushed."

"Come on," he said gently, "We're nearly there. In about a hundred yards, we come to the bottom of the path that leads up to the road and then we are basically there."

I got to my feet and put my foot to the ground and, this time, it gave way. I fell to the ground and cried with frustration.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," he said, instantly at my side.

"I can't do it, Jon."

"C'mere," he said tenderly and scooped me up into his arms.

"Jon, you can't carry me," I protested.

"Course, I can. You're as light as a feather."

"Liar," I accused.

"It's not far, I'll manage," he assured me.

I was too tired to argue, so I slipped my arms around his neck and laid my head on his shoulder. Despite my tiredness and discomfort, the closeness and the physical contact gave me butterflies in my stomach. I glanced up at Jon and suddenly noticed that he was looking down the inside of my blouse. I cast my eyes down and realised that, with my bra off, and with the position I was in, he had a front row view of my breasts. I was about to shift position or distract him, when I inwardly shrugged and settled my head down again onto his shoulder. Let him look.
 
 
At last, we saw our car appear out of the twilight gloom. Jon gingerly stood me on my feet and opened my door. Without warning, he lifted me up again and set me down onto the seat. He got in and, looking weary, started the car for the drive down to the valley.

"I'm sorry, Jon."

"What for?"

"For spoiling our day."

"Rubbish," he said softly as he smiled over at me, "I can't remember when I last had such fun."

I looked at him and, seeing the twinkle in his eye, began to laugh. He joined in before long.
 

*          *          *
 
When we pulled up outside The Ahwahnee, I murmured with approval. It was a large granite building with wooden balconies jutting out from the large windows arrayed around its circumference. Jon jumped out and said he would be back for me in a moment. He took our bags in and then came back out to help me. He lifted me out of my seat and I tried to complain that I could walk, but he would not hear of it. He carried me into the lobby and set me down on a seat.

"Thanks," I murmured gratefully. My ankle was really throbbing with a vengeance now.

He went over to the reception desk. After a while, I realised that there must be something wrong. Jon was having an involved discussion with the clerk and did not look too happy. His shoulders fell and he turned round and walked over.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He sighed. "Apparently, they have this rule about late check in. If you don't arrive before eight p.m., they will give your room away."

"They gave our rooms away?" I asked with a mixture of incredulity and despair.

He shook his head. "Not quite. They gave one of our rooms away just before we arrived. The clerk says there are no rooms in the lodge across the valley either. He checked for me." He rubbed his eyes, "Look, let's get you into your room, I'll sleep in the car or something."

"Don't be stupid. Look, knowing American hotels, I bet there are two large beds in the room, no?"

He nodded. "Apparently there are."

I shrugged. "Well, we're both adults. We'll just have to share the room. Unless that thought repulses you."

He gave me a tired grin. "You sure?"

"Definitely!"

He chuckled. "Fair enough. By the way, you should have seen the look the guy gave me when I said we needed two rooms. He looked over at you and then back to me as if I was crazy."

He went back over to the clerk and filled out the forms. A bellboy appeared to take our bags up and Jon told him to go on ahead as we would be taking our time. He came back over to me and helped me limp to the lift. We got out on the second floor and my ankle almost gave way on me again.

Jon grinned. "Right, no more messing about." He picked me up again and carried me to our door.

"Bet you can't get the door open without dropping me," I said in a teasing tone.

He looked at me and inclined his head. "Watch me."

He jiggled me onto one of his knees and reached out with the key card. He slotted it in, took hold of me again and tried to open the door with his knee, but the light flashed red again. I sniggered. He tried again and this time he was fast enough. He kicked the door wide open and was carrying me in, when an elderly couple came out of the room opposite and noticed our precarious position.

They chuckled and I could hear them whisper, "Newlyweds."

Jon kicked the door closed behind us and landed me unceremoniously on one of the beds. I lay back and laughed out loud.

"Did you hear what that old couple said?" I gasped.

He laughed and nodded. "Gah, I feel so embarrassed."

"My hero," I said in a syrupy voice.

He shook his head and grinned. "Now, to business."

"Getting cleaned up?" I asked.

He stopped and looked at me. "Err… no. I was thinking more of getting some room service up here. I'm famished."

"But we're all sticky and dirty," I whined.

He laughed. "Didn't seem to be a problem when you were clinging to me earlier. Can't be that much of a turn off. You're pretty grimy yourself, you know."

I inclined my head. "Is that so? Well it can't be that much of a turn off since you were happy enough to look down the front of my blouse."

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He reddened and then laughed. He murmured, "Sorry. I didn't think you'd noticed." He shrugged. "Old habits die hard."

I smiled. "OK, go on with you. Let's get some food then. I'm pretty hungry too."
 

*          *          *
 
We both felt better after tucking into flame-grilled burgers and fries. Jon had fetched a bucket of ice from the ice-maker down the hall and had applied some to my swollen ankle. Getting the boot off had been agonising. The ice was helping to dull the pain.

"You can have the bathroom first," Jon said magnanimously.

I shook my head. "You go first."

"No seriously, Cara, you go."

I sighed. "Think about it. I presume you're going to have a quick shower, maybe a shave and be out in less than ten minutes, no?" The look on his face confirmed my thinking. "Whereas, I am planning a long soak in the bath and then I'm going to wash my hair and so on. It's going to take me a heck of a lot longer than ten minutes. Do you really want to wait for me to do all that?"

He grinned and needed no more encouragement. He headed for the bathroom, "Thanks, Cara. I'll be out before you know it."

True enough, it was no more than ten minutes before he exited in a clean T-shirt and boxer shorts.

"Want me to help you?" he offered.

I took his hand and he helped me walk to the bathroom. "Mmm," I commented, "someone smells nice."

He chuckled. "Well, let me tell you, it isn't you."

"Jon!" I gasped.

He led me into the bathroom and then stood at the door. "Do you need any more help?" he asked with a sly wink.

I threw the facecloth at him, but it hit the back of the door as he pulled it closed behind him making a hasty exit.

I smirked to myself. It had been quite a day. Although spraining my ankle had not been part of the plan, it had certainly made things more interesting. I luxuriated in a steamy bath and felt my aches begin to settle. It was joyous to feel clean again. I washed my hair and dried it before taking care to brush it out so that it shone. Having spritzed myself with perfume, I pulled on my nightie. It was a short satin chemise with thin spaghetti straps. I looked at myself in the mirror and suddenly felt embarrassed that I was going to have to walk out into the bedroom like that. I shrugged and smiled at myself before turning to leave the bathroom.

I hobbled out into the bedroom where Jon was watching TV. On seeing me, he snapped the TV off and jumped to his feet. He walked to my side and took my arm.

"Need some help?" he asked.

I nodded. "Jon, sorry, this is all I had to wear."

He looked down at me and gave me a little smile. "Don't apologise, you look… great." He grinned, "You smell pretty awesome too."

I looked up at him with a half-smile on my face and self-consciously pushed a few strands of hair back from my face. His face took on a strange serious look and he reached up to brush the hair back from my face. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, Cara?" he murmured softly.

My mouth opened, but I had no idea what to say. I just smiled and blinked repeatedly. I was going to say something, but he leant forward and his lips brushed gently against mine. I felt as if I had received an electric shock and it was as if his touch had suddenly heightened all my senses to maximum awareness. I looked up at him and had no idea what to do or say. I could feel my heart pounding within me and I was glad he was holding me or I feared I might fall to the floor.

He stroked my cheek gently. "May I kiss you?" he asked.

I smiled nervously. "I thought you just did."

"That wasn't a real kiss…"

"Then you'd better show me what a real kiss is," I said, my voice suddenly sounding husky.

He looked at me briefly for a moment and then pulled me to himself. He cupped my face in his hands and lowered his lips to mine again. He pressed them gently against mine, but this time he did not remove them. My eyes closed automatically and I slid my shaking hands around his waist. His lips pressed against mine with more force now as he lowered his hands to pull my body closer to his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and our kissing became more urgent. We broke for a moment and both of us were breathing hard and fast. He lifted my chin again and with a burning intensity in his eyes, kissed me passionately. I allowed my lips to open, and had he not been holding me tightly, I knew I would have fallen when I felt the sensation of his tongue probing my mouth. I had kissed a man before, but when Paul had kissed me, I now realised that I really had not felt anything compared to what I was experiencing at that moment. I felt as if my whole body was on fire and my skin felt exquisitely sensitive.
 
 
We broke for air again and this time, Jon sat down on the bed and pulled me down onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lowered my face to his. He kissed me hungrily and I began to lose track of time. When I felt his hand gently brush against my breast through the flimsy material of my chemise, I thought that I was going to stop breathing. He kissed my face and then planted gentle kisses along my neck.

"Oh, Jon," I moaned.

He paused and looked at me. I suddenly became aware of a pressure beneath me. I realised that Jon was aroused and that was what I was feeling. I was quite shocked and raised an eyebrow.

"Wow," I said as a smile formed on my lips. "Somebody's excited."

He looked at me and his expression suddenly clouded. He swallowed and shook his head.

"Cara… I…" he shook his head again and closed his eyes.

He gently lifted me to my feet and stood up beside me. "Cara, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me…"

"Don't be sorry," I said with a feeling of dread within me.

He shook his head more firmly. "No, I'm sorry. This isn't right. I shouldn't have…"

"What's not right about it?" I asked, my voice rising in intensity.

"We shouldn't… you and I… you know that. I lost control… I'm sorry," he said looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Why shouldn't we?" I demanded.

"You know why not," he said, his voice also getting louder.

"Well why don't you tell me," I said. I put my hands on my hips, "Because a minute ago, you didn't seem to have a problem."

"You and I… we can't do this," he said intensely.

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Because what, Jon?"

"Because, you're not… a woman."

My eyes widened and I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach. "Well if I'm not a woman, what the hell am I?" I shouted.

"I don't know," he said forcefully.

"What do you mean you don't know? What do you think I am, Jon? What do you think?"

"I don't know," he shouted back, "I don't know…

"How can you not know?" I shouted.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head and said in a hoarse whisper, "I just don't know. What are you? What do you want me to say? Some kind of freak…"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he stopped and he raised his hand to his mouth. All anger left his face and he bit his lip. If he had slapped me across the face, I would not have been as shocked as I was then.

"What did you say?" I hissed.

"Cara, I'm sorry," he said in a low voice as he slowly advanced towards me, "I didn't mean to…"

"Get away from me," I said raising my hands in front of myself.

"Cara, I didn't mean…"

"Get away!" I shouted as I felt the moisture begin to trickle down my cheeks. "Get away, get away," I repeated in between sobs.

He was pale and looked almost fearful. "OK, OK," he said in a placating voice as he slowly backed away.

I turned and hobbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I sat on the toilet and buried my face in my hands. I could not hold myself back any longer and I sobbed aloud. I knew he could probably hear me, but I did not care. I could no longer feel any pain from my ankle, so great was the pain I was feeling inside. I had been thrown from the heights of intense pleasure to utter rejection. With all the pent up emotion of the day added to this, I felt as if I was going to break down completely. I have no idea how long I spent in the bathroom, but when I eventually made my way back into the bedroom, it was in darkness.

I climbed into my bed and, turning my back to the rest of the room, pulled the bedclothes up around my neck. I could hear Jon's breathing and rustling from his bed. I knew he was still awake, but I could not stop myself from crying into the pillow as I lay there.

---