Wind Shadow (11 page)

“Is that all? You want me to ask your forgiveness for my sins? You want me to know purgatory before paradise?” He raised a sardonic brow, taking a step forward. With one finger, he lightly teased the skin at the edge of her bodice where it stretched across the swell of one breast. “Okay, Sil. I’ll play. I guess you deserve that much.” The one finger became four, and they
slid unbidden up to the base of her throat where his thumb, resting at the hollow there, began a delicate stroking.

Without Silky’s conscious realization, Rex had moved very close again. His breath warmed her cheek as he whispered huskily, “I apologize, Silvia.” His other hand circled her back. “I was wrong.” The hand at her throat moved up, tipping her chin. Pressing his mouth to hers, he whispered against her lips, “I’ve learned my lesson. Love me, Sil. Prove to me that I’m forgiven.” With a dogged persistence, he tugged at her bathing suit tie again as his lips took hers in a torrid expression of his desire.

Her heart thudded hard against his chest, but it wasn’t the trip-hammer palpitation of happy expectancy. It was panic, sheer, desperate panic. Rex was holding her. He’d apologized. He wanted nothing more than to love her. Still she was uneasy. What had he said?
Prove to me that I am forgiven?
Prove to
him?
There was something very wrong, very twisted, in his reasoning. Why must she do the proving? He needed to prove his loyalty and devotion to her! So far, all he had proven was his desire—his physical need, and that was such a cheap, easy thing to prove. Where was the substance, the lasting value in animal need? There was none. He’d found that out with Paula. And she’d seen it even more recently in Wade and, reluctantly, she had to admit, in herself.

Squeezing her eyes shut at the image of Wade, his arms and legs wrapped about her, she reacted
more forcefully than she had meant to, surprising herself. “
No!
Rex!” One hand pushing furiously against his chest, she clutched at her bathing suit with the other. “Rex—don’t!” Her voice was breathless and tremulous.

He moaned, “Oh, baby,” and reached for her again, obviously not believing she was earnest.

Determined to be taken seriously, she slid out from under his arms, backing away from him. Fumbling with her bathing suit, she said hoarsely, “I’m not ready for this. It—it’s too soon. You left me for someone else and now you say you want me back. But you aren’t willing to do any
work
to get me.”

“Work?” He frowned. “What the hell kind of work, Silky?”

Distractedly, she shook her head. Jerking a hand through the wet strands of her hair, she heaved a long sigh. “Work, Rex—
you
prove you want me back.
You
prove you love me!”

“Hell, woman, I was damn well prepared to do just that a minute ago!”

She choked out a half-hysterical laugh. “That’s not proof of love, Rex, that’s just sex!”

He lifted his square jaw, eyeing her narrowly from beneath long, silvery lashes. “Sex? Why, Silvia Kay Overbridge, I’ve never heard you talk that way before.” Placing his hands on his hips, he shook his head. “I assure you, I’m not just after sex. I love you.”

“And Paula? Do you love her, too?”

He ground his teeth. “Can we leave her out of this? That’s over. I told you I was sorry.”

She turned away, mumbling wearily, “This isn’t a school prank, Rex. It’s our lives. Just saying you’re sorry isn’t going to fix everything!”

“Apparently, if you have your way, our lives will be pretty platonic.”

She whirled back. “Rex, don’t you see? If you want my physical love, you have to earn it. You’ve got to want me back badly enough to work at it. I—I don’t trust you anymore. I want to, but I don’t. You’ll have to convince me to trust you again.”

He gave her a level glance. “What do you want me to do, spit on every woman I meet? Would that do it?”

Her gaze dropped to the ground. His face had become too blurry to see. Desperately she blinked back a shimmer of tears. “All I want is to be—be loved enough to be a man’s
only
woman.” She spoke so softly that her plea was no more than a thread of sound. “I want to be very, very sure that I am, Rex. I’m willing to work at our relationship—”

He snorted sarcastically. “You couldn’t prove that by me! From here, it looks like I do all the work for very little pay.”

Hurt-filled eyes snagged his. “Well,
you
did all the cheating!” She’d never allowed herself to use that word before when referring to, or even thinking about, what Rex had done. Often she’d called his affair a “mistake,” or referred to his philandering with the catchy little phrase, “big men have big egos,” or “boys will be boys.” Never before had she used that one, totally
descriptive, totally correct, horribly ugly word. Now tears formed in her eyes and slid down her cheeks, feeling cold against her fiery face.

Their eyes battled silently for a moment before he relented slightly, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. “You can really hit a guy where it hurts, kid.” He dropped his head in a single, heavy nod. “Well, now that I know the rules, I guess it’s my serve, right?” He pursed his lips, waiting.

She wiped at her cheek, smiling weakly. “I guess.” The almost completely doused hope she had carefully carried around in her heart for the past year leaped into flame with his answering smile. He lifted a fist to her chin, clipping it lightly as he taunted, “Where’s that agreeable little girl who married me?”

With her smile gone awry, she lifted her chin. “She grew into the woman who divorced you.”

The sound of angry voices silenced them and they turned simultaneously toward the mineral spring. Silky recognized the first voice to be Ice’s. He was clearly quite exasperated, and she felt a pang of guilt. With all that had happened since yesterday afternoon, she’d completely forgotten about his request for her to get closer to Randy.

“Mega-stupidity, kid! Where’d you get those?”

“Aaaah, Ice. Don’t get hyper. It ain’t no sin.”

The cracking and crunching of underbrush being trampled grew louder as they lumbered over bushes and through low branches. Preoccupied
with their argument, they were doing a decidedly poor job of trailblazing.

“It
ain’t
, huh!” Ice mocked. “And just who says so? Didn’t I tell you smoking’ll kill you before your time?”

Just then, Ice saw Silky and Rex for the first time. Circling his hand about the back of Randy’s neck, he halted them both. “Oooops, sorry for the intrusion, people. We were just brainstorming for the antismoking spots I’ll be running this fall on WROK. Weren’t we, kid?”

His expression pinched, Randy raised his eyes toward the couple as he answered, “I guess so….”

Silky’s heart went out to the boy for his embarrassment, not only for being lectured for having cigarettes, but for having his punishment witnessed. It didn’t take much insight to see that it was a tough combination for the boy to take. At least, to Ice’s credit, he had tried to make light of the situation for the boy’s sake.

“Well,” Rex said with a meaningful glance at Ice and Randy, “I guess this party’s over. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m on the fire detail. I’ll go on back to camp and get my trusty little axe.”

“Hey, man,” Ice said. “I’d better get on back too. I’ve got a tent that needs pitching.”

With hardly a pause, Ice looked at Silky, remarking with apparent unconcern, “Silky? Could you show Randy here some of the basics in swimming? He swims like a steel guitar, and I do mean
steel!
” His world-worn eyes were
asking much more than his lips. They were pleading for her to go through with her end of the bargain, but he didn’t have to beg. Silky knew that there was no escape for her. If Randy was going to get lousy news on this trip, she would do her damnedest to be sure that he didn’t get it like a punch between the eyes!

Winking down at his bleak little face, she smiled. “Sure. I used to teach swimming for the Red Cross back in Kansas, Randy. What do you say we hit the water?”

“Guess so.” His slouched shoulders lifted and fell as he skeptically scanned her face. “I seen how good you float.”

“Thanks. Floating’s a snap. It’s all a matter of filling your lungs with air.”

“Yeah?” With eyes narrowed in doubt, he muttered, “I’ll sink. You got better lungs ’n me.”

Rex choked back a laugh while Ice loudly cleared his throat. “Your lungs are fine, kid, so long as you keep that damned smoke out of them. Now you go on with Silky.”

Silky tugged at Randy’s wrist as the two men walked away. While they picked their way back toward the mineral spring, Randy said nothing, and she couldn’t tell from his deadpan expression if he was happy or irritated about being thrust into her care.

“Randy, let’s go over to the shallow end to start.”

As they neared the edge of the hot spring, her eyes skimmed over the others still present. They were no longer playing ball. Riva was quietly
sunning beside George. Wade, Annie and Leonard were sitting on the ledge above the water. Annie was swirling her feet in the water and speaking with animated gestures. As usual, she was entertaining her audience. Silky just hoped the subject of her dialogue was not Silvia Kay Overbridge.

Wade’s eyes caught hers as she jumped into the waist-high water. His ebony eyes were no longer laughing. They were deadly serious. Turning abruptly away from the haunting stare, Silky felt a pang of guilt. He knew that she had been in Rex’s arms.

A tap on her shoulder startled her. “What—?”

“I said, we gonna float or not?” From that frowning little face, it sounded more like a dare than a question. Did the poor child expect her to desert him too?

Trying to shake off the strange feeling of misconduct that Wade’s look had caused, she distractedly patted a damp cowlick into place at the crown of Randy’s head. “Sure—sure we are, Randy.” Hoping her smile didn’t look as fraudulent as it felt, she bent her knees, dropping down until the water lapped at her chin. “First, we relax.”

Inwardly, she had an insane urge to laugh out loud. What a luxury it would be to relax. In her present state of mental turmoil it was an impossible task. Last night with Wade had been the undoing of her sexual integrity. Just now, she had been through a messy scene with the man she loved. Finally, Ice had burdened her with
the bitter responsibility of breaking Randy’s heart.

“Okay, I’m relaxed.” Randy broke into her thoughts as he matched her position in the water.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, honey.” She smiled sadly. “You’re doing just fine.”

Chapter Eight

D
inner long over, Sag Pack was quiet, and the long Alaskan day had surrendered to darkness. Yet, even in the peaceful quiet, Silky couldn’t sleep. Restless, she crawled soundlessly out of her tent, not sure what she expected to do, only knowing that it would do her no good to toss and turn, trying to sleep.

She stood and looked up at the sky, gasping in surprise. It was pulsating with the gossamer light patterns of the aurora borealis, glowing green and blue, then orange and red, in lively disregard for what should have been the brief north-country night.

She smiled up at the celebrating heavens, glad now that she hadn’t been able to sleep. Though she’d seen the northern lights before, the spectacle
seemed to take on a singular importance out here in this vast wilderness. If she missed a single, lovely undulation, would the beauty of the lights be lost forever because it had gone unseen by any man’s eyes? For the first time, Silky was consciously glad that she had made this lunatic-fringe trip with her crazy friend. Maybe there was something to be said for madness after all!

Strangely buoyed by that thought, she struck off toward the hot spring. She had always had a secret urge to swim in the nude. This secluded place in the Alaskan interior, under the majesty of the aurora borealis, seemed like a perfect place to make a memory, to create a mental souvenir of her trip.

Standing on the jutting rock above the warm pool, she pulled off her robe and slipped off her T-shirt and underwear. A splash accompanied her as she slipped into the pool. The water caressed and lightly massaged her skin as she skimmed along with graceful, silent strokes. Executing a perfect surface dive, she circled beneath the surface and came up to retrace her path toward the shallow end. Reaching the rock shelf that formed the shallow, she stood, clearing the water from her face as she walked toward the rock ledge where her clothes were neatly folded.

Looking up, she froze, but the water continued to move and sparkle about her, teasing and patting at her belly and hips. A masculine shape loomed above her on the shore. The broad silhouette
was backlit by the undulating fire in the sky, and she could see ebony curls flutter in the night breeze. Only when Silky felt the rush of air cool her naked torso did she remember her state of undress and belatedly cover her glistening breasts, lowering herself into the water. “What are you doing here?” There was no real shock in her whisper, only a kind of dismayed surprise.

“I—” he began rather haltingly. “Annie woke me. She saw you wander off and was worried about you. I thought I’d better check.”

Silky’s jaw worked in embarrassed agitation. “Where is Annie?”

He gazed thoughtfully at her for a moment. “Back in bed, I guess.”

She sniffed. “She must have been worried sick. Well, you may go back and report that I’m just fine.”

“Just fine?” He shook his head slowly, but with certainty. “From what I’ve seen, you’re damn perfect.” Uninvited, he sat down, patting the rock as though it were a sofa cushion. “Since neither of us can sleep, what do you say we sit and talk?”

She opened her lips in amazement at his casual suggestion. “I’m not getting out. Surely you noticed I—I’m not—”

“I noticed.” He favored her with an unexpectedly sensuous smile. “With a little coaxing on your part, you might be able to convince me to join you.”

At the strangled sound of a moan in her throat, his smile faded slightly, but in spite of that, he
chuckled dryly. “That’s good enough. I’d love to.”

“
Wade!
” She choked as he started to shrug off his shorts.

He stopped, his thumbs hooked at the waistband. Glancing down at her with a completely believable look of innocence on his face, he asked mildly, “Yes?”

She held out her hand. “I—I’ll come out. Toss me my robe.”

He seemed to consider her offer for a moment before his mouth softened at one corner. “You sure? I wouldn’t mind a swim.”

Stifling another groan, she stiffened her arm, lifting it higher. “Please, Wade. Give me my robe.” He grinned briefly before bending to scoop up her wrap. With carefree enthusiasm, he tossed the terry projectile the few feet over the water. She caught it easily, but not without raising a bare inch too high out of the water. Wrapping the robe hurriedly about herself, she eyed Wade as though he were a grizzly bear and she, the only morsel of food left in the forest. It was not comforting to note that his eyes glittered with laughter.

The robe was soaked from her waist down, and the absorbent fabric was heavy, clinging to her hips as she pulled herself from the water. Stepping a bit away, she turned her back on Wade and wadded the tail of the robe, squeezing out as much excess water as she could.

As she worked, Wade remarked casually, “The
northern lights are unbelievable, aren’t they? I’ve never been this far north before. They’re even more spectacular up here than in Anchorage.” His voice, now at waist level, told her that he had settled back down on the rock.

When she turned to face him, he smiled up at her, nodding an invitation for her to sit. “I hear they’re really something at the North Pole,” she said, tugging her robe securely.

“Me, too,” he agreed as she joined him on the rock. “That’s a sight we’ll have to see.”

The word
we
startled her. “I don’t think Sag Pack’s route goes quite that far north.”

Dismissing the idea with a laugh, he observed, “I think your friendship with Annie is rubbing off on you. You’re starting to sound more like her.”

Silky shrugged. “I’ll take that as a compliment if you don’t mind. Annie’s got a lot of spunk. I admire that about her.”

He grunted derisively. “Don’t worry about that, you’re getting there.” There was a trace of false heartiness in his smile. “At least I’ve run across a pretty wide streak recently.” He paused, looking directly at her.

Unable to bear the directness of his look, she lowered her gaze to her lap. She didn’t want to be reminded of last night. Quietly she sidestepped. “Nice weather we’ve been having.”

The noise he made wasn’t quite a chuckle, at least it didn’t hold the humor of one. “Okay … back to Annie. I guess, with two ex-husbands,
she’s had to form a little crust, but basically she’s a caring person.” Absently, he picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water. Silky watched as it skipped across the surface in a series of slight plunks before sliding silently beneath the surface.

“You like her a lot?” Silky asked carefully.

“Sure. You’re lucky to have such a loyal friend.”

She shrugged. Mirroring his earlier move, she picked up a pebble and tossed it the same way he had. But it thunked heavily and dropped beneath the surface a foot from where they sat. “Annie’s loyalty can be a double-edged sword,” she gritted, gesturing toward him. “You for instance. I don’t need her smothering me with armed bodyguards.”

His mouth crooked. “I’m not armed.”

She felt a quiver rush up her spine that had little to do with the night breeze. He had said absolutely nothing to warrant the flush that warmed her skin and set an odd, pulsating heat deep within her. But she couldn’t hold back the errant thought that the man
was
definitely armed; his weapon, a devastating, all-consuming one.

Shifting uncomfortably, she dropped her eyes. “Uh—I meant that figuratively. “You know—you’re a cop, and all.” Finally, highly irritated with herself, she set an edge to her words. “I’m surprised that you figured Annie out so quickly. It took me a year to find out she had a heart.”
Trying for a cool, blasé façade, she said casually, “I thought cops were more physical—”

“More physical?” he interrupted, appearing vaguely amused.

She lifted her chin. “If I’d been allowed to finish, I would have said, ‘more physical than mental.’ You know, assume guilt and leave the proof of innocence to the courts.”

“Oh.” He gazed at her steadily through half lowered lids, but the amused glitter in his eyes was gone. “Look, Silky. I don’t plan to fit into your file drawer of stereotypes. Try, just once, to find the real person”—he laid his hand, fingers spread, on his bare chest—“the one
inside.
You might be surprised at what you find.” He started to stand, but Silky took his hand, halting him before she was even aware that she didn’t want him to leave.

She lifted apologetic eyes to his set face. “I’m sorry, Wade. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Wanting to make amends for her unintentional affront, she coaxed, “If you want me to see the person … inside you, then stay and tell me about him. Have you been married?” She blanched at her question. Where in heaven’s name had it come from? A question she’d never considered asking, a question that was none of her business, had slipped out unbidden!

He slid a curious glance toward her as he settled back down, extending his legs and leaning back on his hands. “Married? No.” His expression turned thoughtful, and his glance
wandered out over the dark water. Silky had the feeling that he wasn’t seeing the water, but another woman’s face. “I had a fiancée.”

“Fiancée?” she repeated, breathily. A tenseness stole over her muscles. Attempting not to show it, she drew her knees up and rested her chin on them.

“Maureen and I were to have been married a week after the accident. Of course it had to be postponed. By the time I was well enough, I told her that I wanted to leave Detroit and move out here.”

She couldn’t help herself; suddenly very interested, she sat erect.

“She—” He paused, clearing his throat as he looked back toward her. “To make a long, dull story short, she made it clear that she loved Detroit more than she loved me. She wouldn’t leave her friends and family to—’be shut up in an igloo eating blubber.’ That’s a cleaned-up version of her opinion of Alaska.” He sat forward, dusting off his hands. “Maybe I should have said ex-fiancée.”

“I—I’m sorry,” she fumbled. “You must have been unhappy.”

“I was for a while. But I realized our love had never been strong enough to last. If it had, I’d have stayed in Detroit to be with her, or she’d have come to Alaska. Both of us are better off.”

Silky pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, but she didn’t speak. She could only stare at his handsome face. Somehow it came as a shock to her that any woman worth her hormones would
be so stupid as not to follow this man to the very ends of the earth—which of course Alaska was! Or at least it had seemed that way when Rex had mentioned the prospect of moving here shortly before they were married. She felt her tensed features soften, understanding something of Maureen’s dilemma. Still, that didn’t excuse her! Through thinned lips she exhaled. “Yes, I think
you
are definitely better off.”

Wade appeared vaguely amused by the play of expressions that had crossed her face. “Thanks. I don’t regret what happened. The experience has just made me careful about women.” The perceptive glance he leveled on her had a baiting quality about it. He said nothing for a long moment before remarking quietly, “Right now, I’m just working on making friends. You for instance—I’d like to be your friend, and I’m willing to work for it.” He tilted his head, watching her closely. “Maybe even as hard as you’re working to get Rex back. I wonder who has the tougher job.”

Silky tugged at the lapel of her robe, suddenly oddly self-conscious. “Making a friend isn’t so tough, Wade.”

He shook his head. “You’re thinking of an acquaintance. I want to be your friend—someone you can talk to—someone who can talk to you.”

“We’re talking, aren’t we?”

He rubbed his fist across his mouth. “No. We’re conversing.”

“Well, what’s
talking
, then?” She wasn’t sure
she should have asked that question. But now that it was asked, she steeled herself for whatever was to come.

He eyed her evenly. Wade was a man prepared for the challenge. He nodded. “All right. Why do you want Rex back after what he did to you?”

She winced as the unexpected question hit her, like the slap of a storm-tossed pine bough, right between the eyes. “What?” She shot back the defensive question fiercely. “And just what is wrong with wanting to make a success of my marriage?”

“What marriage?” He said it so quietly that she wasn’t positive he had actually said anything. She blinked wide, hurt eyes at him as he went on, “Look, if it’s just a matter of feeling like you’ve failed in some way, that’s ridicu—”

“You want to make me your friend and I want to get Rex back,” she sputtered tremulously. “No question, Lieutenant, you have the tougher job!” She jumped up, gathering her T-shirt and underwear as she pivoted to escape.

He grabbed her arm with a strength which only hinted at the physical part of his job that she had seen him exhibit at the hospital. “Just be sure,” he whispered through gritted teeth, “be very sure, Silky, that getting Rex back isn’t just a matter of pride with you. Don’t get caught up with images of what is right. They don’t always reflect what is real.” She jerked at his hold but couldn’t pull free. Nostrils flaring, he growled under his breath, “Not all marriages are good ones, Silky. And not all divorces are
mistakes.” He let her go so abruptly that she almost fell before regaining solid footing and rushing off into the trees.

How appropriate for clouds to have set in over the pack. For days they had doggedly followed Sag, and now they looked threatening. Thunder, off in the distance, helped make their decision to pitch camp early.

It was just after four o’clock, somewhere between Woodchopper and Eagle. Trees as dense as fur on a husky’s back hugged the mighty Yukon River as it flowed majestically some distance north of their camp.

“Silky.” Rex ambled over and put a gloved hand on her handlebars. “Since you’re on dinner detail, why not let me put your tent up for you?” He ran a finger across her knuckles. “I’ll put it next to mine, by the fire. Okay?” His wink was conspiratorial. “Is this more like what you want?”

She squinted up at his confident grin and tried to appear stern. But his dashing boldness was too much for her to resist. With a reluctant smile, she unfastened her safety helmet. “It’s a start. And, thanks—I’d appreciate it.”