Wind Shadow (3 page)

“Do you?” He raised a sardonic brow.

She hedged. “Well… if you weren’t—uh, doing that, then
you
explain why you were lurking in the trees.”

Gazing down at her with the most infuriating amusement, he said, “I was writing.”

She lifted her chin regally. “I don’t believe you.”

“Fine,” he said, lifting his arms as though under arrest. “Search me.”

“Writing? Guarding? Maybe you’d better get your story straight, Lieutenant,” Silky snapped.

Wade pulled a small notebook from the pocket in the back of his shirt. “I was making an entry in the trip log. I like to find a quiet spot to gather my thoughts.” He flipped it open to a page marked “June 16, Day one.” The page was filled with a strong, masculine scrawl. Silky’s chin lost some of its imperial angle as he continued, “I didn’t realize you were even out here until I heard you and Rex … talking.”

The pause in his explanation let her know that he was well aware of what had gone on between them, and she felt herself go crimson with renewed anger and embarrassment. “Well—why didn’t you make yourself known? Apparently you’re no gentleman!”

“You’re probably right,” he said straightforwardly as he put the notebook back into his
shirt. A wry smile lifted one corner of his mouth when his dark eyes settled on hers again. “But it’s always been my policy never to interfere with a happily divorced couple. Besides, you looked like you were handling the situation pretty well all by yourself.”

“
Looked!
” She jammed her hands on her hips, totally disregarding the fact that frilly things scattered all around their path. “Then you did look, admit it!”

He prudently kept his face straight, but Silky’s insides churned to see the unrepentant laughter in his eyes. “Yes, for a minute. But as soon as I realized you were only half-dressed, I closed one eye.” His wide shoulders dropped as he bent once again to get her clothes. This time he didn’t hand them back but held the bundle clutched in one big fist. He took her elbow. “Maybe we’d better get back—bears, remember?”

She jerked out of his grip. “I think I’d rather take my chances with them, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, but I do. It’d be a real blot on my record if I lost somebody the first night out.” He took her elbow again, this time firmly enough to draw her to an abrupt halt.

She turned, planning to toss a cutting remark, but instead of meeting his eyes, she found her lips disconcertingly near his ear. He’d leaned down so close that his warm breath tickled the base of her throat.

Silky had no idea how to react. There wasn’t anything threatening in his action, nor was
there anything sexually aggressive about it. He was merely leaning … and sniffing? “What do you think you’re doing?”

She could feel the soft exhale of his laugh against her skin. The feathery touch of his lips on her throat was tantalizing as he murmured, “You smell like a field of lilies of the valley.” She felt bereft of his warmth when he lifted his head. “You’re going to have to get rid of that perfumed soap. Bears are attracted to it.”

Bears are attracted to it!
A crazy sense of disappointment seized her as he began to walk, pulling her along. Gritting her teeth, she frowned, thinking peevishly,
Bears, maybe, but certainly not police lieutenants.
Lifting a hand, she pushed a branch out of her way. What did it matter to her what his taste in fragrance was, anyway? A bit more irritably than she had intended, she muttered, “I think I’d notice a bear before it got
that
close.”

He laughed delightedly. “Their ability to catch scents is much keener than ours. Trust me. I’ll lend you a bar of my soap. It’s unscented.”

He helped her pick her way across a fallen log as she quipped, “I’m forever in your debt.”

His grin was easy. “There’s good news.” Releasing her arm, he walked silently beside her as Silky’s pique simmered just below a boil. This path hadn’t seemed nearly so long on her walk in.

Wade broke the tense silence after a moment. “Are you going to take him back?”

Involuntarily she caught her breath, shocked at the outlandishly personal question. “
What!
”

“I asked—”

“I heard what you
asked.
I just can’t believe you asked it!” She heaved a sigh that could have been an obscenity, it was so full of overtones.

He touched her back to prod her forward again. She hadn’t realized she’d stumbled to a halt. He went on conversationally. “Whatever it was that made you throw him out—”

She blurted out, “I didn’t throw him out, he left me—” She snapped her mouth shut in horror. How could she have allowed herself to say that, and to a virtual stranger, too! She writhed inside.

He immediately pulled her to face him. His own features were open and incredulous, and Silky was surprised to see that his dark eyes were black with anger. “You? The man left
you?
” His hands were squeezing her shoulders, and she winced. Mortified, she turned her face away. His voice was low and subdued. “Silky. Why?”

She worked hard at collecting herself enough to speak. She whispered raggedly, “Let go of me. My personal life is none of your business.” She reached up with trembling fingers and jerked his hands away.

Pivoting, she started to run, but he was ready for her flight, catching her hand in his. “Mind if I try something?” he asked quietly.

It was a rhetorical question. Before she could
voice any objections his mouth molded itself gently to hers. A large hand moved possessively around her. His fingers opened, spreading over her lower back as he pulled her against him. His hand moved slowly, deliberately, caressing and relaxing the stiffened spine until she was arched deeply into his broad, muscular frame.

His lips were pliant, instructive, teaching her things about this unpredictable man that she’d never intended to know. His tongue spoke eloquently as it teased and tempted her lips. The intimacy of the touch was a primer, a first lesson, inspiring a warming desire in Silky to know what was yet to come. She found herself opening her lips wider, against her will and better judgment.

Her breathing became erratic, and her heartbeat was soon affected in the same absurd way as his tongue slid deeper into the inviting recesses of her mouth. She sighed weakly, like a baby bird suddenly needing the life-giving nourishment his kiss was offering. Wade was affecting her in a physical way that went far beyond her most uncontrolled moments with Rex.

Her arms slid slowly up the front of his body-hugging shirt to capture his neck. She moved one hand up to tangle shaking fingers in the springy black curls, and to press his kiss even more deeply into hers.

Silky moaned deep in her throat, enjoying the melting sensations he was setting free within her, enjoying too the sweet, damp earthiness of the pungent pines as the natural scents of the
forest mingled with Wade’s musky maleness. With thoughtless abandon, she pressed her thinly covered breasts even more intimately against his hard chest. As she did, she could feel the bass-drum pounding of his heart increase its tempo against her stimulated nipples.

With the sensual movement of her body, he groaned against her lips, finally, with great reluctance, lifting his mouth from hers. He murmured unevenly, “You kiss—like you do it for a living, Silky.” Light, nibbling lips teased her cheek and made her quiver within his arms as he went on, “Did he leave you because you were seeing other men?”

The whispered question hit her like an avalanche. “That’s insulting!” she cried hoarsely.

Wade’s dark eyes drew her into a tangled web of confusing emotions. His expression was serious as he murmured, “I’d hoped it would be.”

Though she struggled to be free of his imprisoning arms, he wouldn’t release her. If he had, she knew she probably would have fallen to the ground. There was no strength left in her rubbery legs.

With the tenacity of a bloodhound, he went relentlessly on, his voice low and slightly strained. “Rex was seeing someone on the side, then.” Black brows lifted. “You have to give the guy credit for his brass, following you out there like that after what he did to you.” Wade shook his head at the thought. “You were nicer than most women in your position would have been.”

Silky bristled. “My position?” So! He thought
he knew so much about everything! She decided to throw a monkey wrench in the works and dent that “Wade Banning, most-clever detective” suit of armor he wore so proudly! She snapped, “You’re wrong about my position, Lieutenant Banning. Did it ever occur to you that people change? People
can
make mistakes and learn from them, you know.” Exasperated, she yelled, “Just so there won’t be any doubt in your mind, I am planning that Rex and I …” Her words dwindled away as she watched his lips curl into a crooked grimace. She was surprised to see a muscle begin to flex tensely in his jaw.

“You’re planning that Rex and you what? Learn to tolerate each other? Come to some agreement on who gets Aunt Martha’s antique lamp? What?” The questions were bitten out between his clenched teeth.

Struggling to control herself, Silky knitted shaky fingers together, eyeing him unflinchingly. “Isn’t there some rule that you have to read me my rights
before
you start grilling, Lieutenant?” She grabbed her bundle of clothes from his hand and attempted to turn away, but he caught her arm.

“Hell, woman! You don’t mean
you
want him back?”

She jerked out of his hold and turned back to face him. Her lips trembled, and her voice was distressingly unsteady. “That’s none of your business!”

“My God, Silky!” he breathed. “The man’s not worth—” The slap that stung his face was fueled
by months of smoldering frustration and defeat—months of listening to Annie’s heated diatribes—months of defending her position, her feelings. Now all those pent-up emotions were kindled into an explosive rage by Wade’s unfair judgment. He didn’t know Rex. He didn’t know her. He had no right to criticize her decisions one way or the other. No one did! She could make it with Rex, and it was no one’s affair if she wanted him back.

Wade’s disbelieving face blurred as her stormy eyes filled with tears. “You know where you can go with your opinions!” she suggested in a desperately controlled voice.

A wan smile twisted his lips, and he rubbed his reddened cheek. “Nice going, Banning,” he mumbled disgustedly to no one in particular. Silky had spun away, fleeing his unwelcome, unsettling presence.

Chapter Three

U
h—what?” Silky blinked moss green eyes, realizing with a small jolt that she had been watching Wade’s romanesque profile and had completely missed what Rex had just said. He repeated, with a tolerant chuckle, “I asked if you’re ready. Where were you just then?”

She smiled a bit weakly and fibbed, “I was just looking at the dew sparkling on the grass and leaves.” It didn’t matter that she’d really been looking at Wade. It was a small, unimportant lie. She continued, “You know, Rex, I never imagined how crisp and beautiful mornings out here could be.”

“They’re nice. But you’re the most beautiful thing out here, in my opinion.” He grinned down at her; the bright morning sun was doing exciting, golden things to his hair.

Silky inhaled happily at the compliment.
That
was more like it. Rex was beginning to act like the man she’d fallen in love with. The smile that lifted her lips was now genuine, and she felt positive that today was going to be a magnificent one!

Rex dropped a casual arm about her shoulders. “Grab your bike, Sil. It looks like everybody is about packed up and ready to go.” He lightly propelled her toward the group that was gathering on the gravel drive that circled in front of the log youth hostel—and toward Wade.

It wasn’t a direction she preferred, but she was with Rex, so she relaxed a little. For the past five days, since her unexpectedly disturbing encounter with Wade, she had single-mindedly avoided him. And, as for venturing out alone in the woods again, she hadn’t needed to. So far. They’d camped outside youth hostels that had provided bath houses.

As a matter of fact, the only contact she’d had with Wade since that first day had been when he’d surprised her outside of the women’s bathhouse, and handed her a bar of soap. She recalled vividly how one corner of his mouth had lifted in what seemed like an apologetic smile as he’d said, “It’s unscented.” Then he’d turned away, leaving her no time to respond, or to give the soap back, which had been her immediate inclination. So, she’d taken the soap and used it. If it had been anything else, she wouldn’t have kept it; but pride was one thing, and stupidity another entirely! After all, who needs bears?

Besides, she reasoned, didn’t Wade
owe
her an apology for his uncalled-for remarks? Maybe this bar of soap was the apology. Next, Wade might even offer to wash his own mouth out with it!

Silky’s eyes flicked back up. There he was again! Lately, he always seemed to be directly blocking her line of vision. He was talking quietly with Annie and a small man named Leonard, an Anchorage librarian. Yesterday, Leonard had sat down with them at lunch, talking more to Annie than to anyone, as he explained that he was new to the bicycling club, and was taking this trip to get to know people. It was obvious that he wanted to get to know Annie, especially.

Silky’s expression held a touch of sadness as she looked at him. With his slight build, vulnerable gray eyes and incongruous but endearing walrus moustache, he looked a little fragile for the job he was taking on.

Good luck, Leonard, Silky thought, doubting that he had much of a chance. Annie turned men into enemies with almost more devotion than she turned walk-in browsers at her dealership into Jeep owners! Well, she sighed inwardly, maybe Annie would go a little easier on this one.

Her eyes shifted from Leonard to Wade, who was over a head taller and nearly twice as broad. His black eyes were on her—again, as they had been for more times than she cared to remember these past five days. His look was steady and direct as always, and she almost felt as though
he were watching her for some sign of forgiveness.

He smiled as they walked by. It was friendly, almost hopeful. “Morning, folks.”

She nodded curtly and looked away without returning the smile. Rex answered for them. “Looks like it’ll be another nice day.”

Wade sounded a little doubtful. “Seems chilly, to me.”

Silky knew that his remark was directed at her, but she didn’t care. She’d had enough of his opinions the first day out.

“What the—” Rex’s arm dropped from Silky’s shoulder and he hurried ahead. She watched him sprint toward his bike, where a boy was crouched beside the back wheel, his back toward them. Silky recognized the youngster as the pack’s youngest member, thirteen-year-old Randy Douglas. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but apparently Rex felt he was up to no good. He was shouting, “Hey, kid, what do you think you’re doing there!”

The boy turned, screwing his face up in a sunburned squint. “Huh?”

Silky walked up beside Rex as he demanded again, “I said,
what
are you doing? That equipment is very expensive!”

“Yeah? How much did it cost?”

Rex snorted. “That’s none of your business.”

Randy shrugged disinterestedly and stood. “Okay, mister. You brought it up, not me.” Silky pursed her lips to keep from smiling at the youth’s deadpan wit.

Rex scowled down at him. “Don’t you be smart with me, son.”

“I ain’t your son, man!” Randy shot back, his brown eyes flashing angrily.

Silky felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for the boy. “Rex, I—I’m sure Randy didn’t mean any harm.” She turned encouraging eyes to the youth. “Did you?”

“Naw. I was just lookin’.”

“Well—” Rex expelled the word in an exasperated sigh. Silky could tell he was trying to soften his manner, and she admired him for the attempt. He’d never been fond of children, but he was trying. “I guess looking is all right, but you ask me first, next time. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Randy answered without enthusiasm as he swatted a mosquito on his arm.

Silky didn’t know much about kids, but Randy had seemed sullen and solitary the whole trip so far. She could see that he was very unhappy about something. So was his father, if a gloomy expression and slumped shoulders could tell anything. There was trouble between them, though she didn’t know what. Whatever it might be, it was a sad thing to see reflected in those guarded, young eyes.

She held out a hand, trying for friendship. “Randy, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Silky Overbridge.”

He shrugged again, shoving his fists into the pockets of his ragged cut-off jeans and dropping his gaze to his scuffed tennis shoes. “Big deal.”

Feeling embarrassed and a little irritated by his unexpected rejection, she let her hand drop to her side, unsure of what to do next.

“Look, boy!” Rex’s voice had taken on an edge. “You watch how you talk to the lady or I won’t show you the bike.”

Randy curled his thin upper lip in distaste. “Who cares. Those Italian bikes are for fairies, anyway.”

“
Fairies!
” The muscles in Rex’s neck tensed. “Listen, kid. Just don’t let me catch you messing around with my bike ever again.”

Randy lifted his blunt chin defiantly, his expression an unpleasant mixture of disgust and disinterest. “Don’t worry, mister. You won’t.” His sullen eyes shifted to Silky and held on her face for a moment before he turned away and trudged off.

“Juvenile delinquent!” There was scorn in Rex’s terse accusation. “You try being nice to the kid and see what it gets you? Insults!”

Silky looked up at him. “I don’t know, Rex. He looks like he’s got troubles.”

“He
is
trouble, if you ask me! Kids like that belong in a detention home.”

“Have you ever been inside one?” Wade’s quiet question came from behind her, and Silky cocked her head around to look at him. He was very near, resting his hand lightly on her racing saddle.

Rex frowned at the unexpected challenge. “Of course not, but—”

Wade lifted a sardonic brow. “If you had, Overbridge, you wouldn’t say that.” He moved up to face them. “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just wanted to tell you that since it’s pretty windy, we’ll be riding in a tight pack.”

In keeping with her policy to avoid Wade, Silky turned toward Rex, asking, “What’s a tight pack? Do I dare hope it’s an air-conditioned bus?”

Rex smiled indulgently, his irritation melting away. “No, sweetheart. It’s when bikers get as close together as possible. Actually, it’s called
drafting.
The lead rider bucks the wind resistance so that everybody following has it easier. The closer you can get to the bike in front of you, the better it works.”

Silky was worried. “Just how close do you have to get? Six, seven feet I hope?”

Rex laughed and pulled her safety helmet from the handlebars of her bike, fitting it carefully on her head. “No, you little goose,” he teased. “It’s more like an inch.”

Horrified at the thought of speeding along a highway in the middle of an easily unbalanced bicycle sandwich, Silky squeaked, “
An inch!
” She shook her head firmly. “No thanks! An inch is how you measure slacks’ hems and low-heeled shoes, not the distance between two-wheeled instruments of destruction. I’ll just lag my usual half-mile behind and do my own bucking! I’d rather have wind in my teeth than spokes!”

Wade crossed his arms loosely over his chest, smiling at her vigorous rejection. She thought she could detect a touch of sympathy in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Silky. Since we’re not competitive racers, six or eight inches will be fine. It won’t be as bad as you think.”

Her expression was skeptical. “The last time I heard
that
, I was about to have four wisdom teeth pulled.”

Rex let out a laugh, smoothing her hair as it danced freely in a gust of wind. “I’ll never forget that. There were complications.” He turned toward Wade, explaining, “After four days, Silky’s mouth was still packed. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t talk. She was miserable. Every time she saw her oral surgeon, she’d mumble curses at him.”

Silky slid a glance toward Wade. His expression was bland as he listened.

“Finally,” Rex was continuing, “just before she left the hospital—almost a week later than planned—her doctor told her that he’d understood every unladylike thing she’d said!”

Silky blushed behind already sun-pinkened cheeks. “I gather they take a course in mumbling. That’s how they can carry on perfectly normal two-sided conversations with people when they’ve got three fingers, cotton, a mirror and a drill in their patient’s mouth.”

Wade made a noncommittal grunt. His expression was still pleasant, but there was less warmth in it now. Apparently he hadn’t been
completely taken with their trek down memory lane. Indicating the others in their group with a nod, he said, “I think we’d better be going.”

He’d taken a couple of uneven steps away when Silky noticed that he was limping a little more than he had the day before. Despite her vow to ignore him, she couldn’t help but call out, “Wade—” She stammered to a stop as he turned toward her, lifting a questioning brow.

He was surprised that she’d spoken directly to him. “Yes?”

Swallowing, she suggested quietly, “Uh … try not to overwork that leg.”

He flashed her a grateful smile. “Thanks.” As he turned away, he called out with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, “Okay, folks. Let’s saddle up. Today we make Fairbanks!”

As she swung her leg across her bike, Silky wondered at herself. Why had she said that, when she’d promised herself to flatly ignore the man? She grimaced, recalling the sparkle in his dark eyes as he’d thanked her for her concern. He had known at that moment that he’d been forgiven—almost before she had realized it. Damn him for his infuriating intuitiveness, anyway. But, then, there was just something about him that wouldn’t allow her to stay angry with him for long—not really angry. Bothered, yes. Troubled, a little. But not angry. He was so doggedly insistent on being friendly and helpful it was impossible to dislike him.

Oh well. She sighed. Maybe she just wasn’t
cut out to carry a grudge. Besides, they were going to be together for several weeks yet. It would be best this way.

“You go on ahead of me, Sil. I’ll bring up the rear,” Rex directed as they began to form up in the tight pack with Wade in the lead position.

Silky nodded as she moved in behind Annie. She called up to her friend. “Look, Evel Knievel Toone, I know you love to live on the razor’s edge of disaster, but try not to make any sudden detours. I don’t want to have your handlebars for lunch.”

Annie’s laugh was derisive. “Listen, kid. I’ve got a crazy librarian in front of me who just admitted he has a depth-perception problem, so don’t pester me with your little troubles.”

Silky groaned miserably. “You’re a big help.”

They’d been riding for a little less than two hours, crouched against heavy head winds, when the news was passed back that they could finally see the mighty Mount McKinley, also known as Denali, standing sentinel over its vast, six-million-acre national park.

Silky had grown relatively comfortable with the moderate pace and, surprisingly, she also felt fairly good about her six-inch distance from Annie’s back wheel. At least she was secure enough in her ability by now to look up at the distant mountain.

The billowy clouds that had masked its face from view for three days had finally parted,
revealing the huge block of granite in all its craggy beauty.

“It’s the tallest mountain on earth,” shouted Annie, passing along Leonard’s information. “And Denali is a wildlife preserve. Leonard says we might see a grizzly—maybe even wolves along the road.”

“Shut up, Annie!” Silky shot back sharply as an eighteen-wheeler thundered by. She leaned hard away from the sucking action that pulled her bike toward the highway. The grade was a long uphill grind, and Silky was panting heavily. Her nerves were frayed by the combined effects of crouching against the wind and the heavy currents created by the big semis that traveled the busy George Parks Highway. She felt so pushed and pulled by all the natural—and unnatural—buffeting, she thought she’d collapse if she didn’t rest soon.

She could see Wade point emphatically down to the left. Pressing her lips together, she renewed her concentration. That was the signal for a hazard ahead. What was it this time? A hole? Broken glass? She steeled herself, once again, for disaster. Pedaling hard, she dodged the hazard in her turn. It was a broken beer bottle. She shook her head at the thoughtlessness of some people. To clutter this beautiful, virgin country was, to Silky, an unforgivable crime.