Dreamkeepers

by Dorothy Garlock

  “Yeah? On what?” He looked intrigued.

  “On whether or not you behave yourself.” Her eyes glinted mischievously. He wasn’t the enemy, just a harmless man who liked to flirt. He looked like a nice guy.

  “May I ask you a crazy question?” He grinned broadly.

  “Sure. What’s the crazy question?”

  “What’s a classy looking dame like you doing out here in the boonies?”

  Kelly laughed. “That line went out with hula-hoops and mini-skirts.” She pushed the register toward him. “Sign your name and next of kin in case I decide to feed you to the bears.”

  Doctor Andrew T. Mullins, Seattle, Washington. Without allowing a flicker of surprise to show on her face, she moved the book toward the other guests.

  “We have three private rooms and a dormitory,” Kelly explained, looking at the tall doctor.

  “We’ll take the three privates,” he said and threw a credit card down on the counter.

  “You don’t need to pay now.” Kelly handed the card back to him and he squeezed her fingers.

  “Going to run up the bill on me?” he teased.

  “Hope so,” she retorted, and glanced at Jonathan.

  He stood behind the other couples, his eyes riveted to her, his face a frowning mask. There was no doubt he was angry. He watched her with barely controlled impatience, his body shifting restlessly.

  “Dinner’s at seven, but the coffee pot is always on. The swinging doors lead to the dining area, which is also the kitchen. This is a very informal lodge so make yourselves at home.”

  Kelly almost broke into a grin when she saw Jonathan carrying the luggage down the hall. If only Katherine were here to see it! As the tall doctor turned to go, he winked at her and, feeling Jonathan’s eyes on her, she winked back.

  In moments Jonathan returned from the bedrooms. “Pull another stunt like that,” he warned her, “and I’ll break your neck!”

  “What are you talking about?” Kelly demanded, goading him.

  He slammed his hand down on the desk. “You know very well what I’m talking about. That was a come-on if I ever saw one.” His hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist.

  Her face turned pale and their eyes locked in silent battle. Damn him! He was going to push, push, push, until he drove her out of her mind!

  “Give up, Jonathan. Go back to your tinfoil world, your elegant papier-mâché friends and their lifeless parties, where they cut each other’s throats so politely. I don’t need you here.” She was surprised she could speak so calmly. Suddenly pale and haggard, he stared back as if he wasn’t seeing her at all. She jerked her hand free and headed for the kitchen.

  “We have an extra guest, Bonnie,” she announced, taking a mug from the rack and pouring coffee as Jonathan followed through the swinging doors.

  “Ain’t that great? I peeked when I heard ’em come in. Tonight we’re goin’ to have chicken fricassee and dumplins. Don’t that sound fancy? Kelly, get Jack a cup of coffee. That boy worked like a mule this mornin’.”

  “Keep your seat, I’ll get it.” He laid his hand on her shoulder as he passed and Kelly steeled herself to keep from flinching.

  “If you’re hungry, Jack, get yourself a piece of that carrot cake,” Bonnie ordered. “We’re goin’ to have baked custard tonight along with the French rolls, peas and onions in cream, and tossed salad.”

  “Sounds good, Bonnie. Do you ever make Boston baked beans?” Jack glanced at Kelly and grinned. “My wife never learned to like them.”

  “I make Oklahoma beans and they’d put them Boston beans to shame, Jack. I don’t blame Kelly none for not likin’ ’em.” Bonnie waddled between the stove and the counter, never glancing at the two seated at the trestle table. “One of these days I’ll cook up a batch of pinto beans, tomatoes, and jalapeño peppers. Top that off with a pan of good, old yellow cornbread and you never had anything so good in all your life.” Bonnie went into the pantry.

  “We know what’s on the menu. What’s on the program for tonight?” Jonathan asked.

  Kelly let out a deep sigh. It was so exhausting to be always sparring with him. As he turned to see if Bonnie was coming back into the room, she regarded him openly. His sharply etched profile seemed to be carved from granite. He was handsome, strong, and ruthless. Here, in the Alaskan wilderness, he seemed to take on a ruggedly masculine appearance totally different from the suave, socially prominent man of Boston. There was no doubt he stirred her physically. But did she feel love or hate?

  His brown eyes held a question when he swung around to her, and she gave an involuntary shiver. What did he want from her? He had no need for a woman’s enduring love. With that arrogant face, imperious head, and cultured background, he could get any woman he wanted. She put her hand to her breast as if to press her heart into obedience. She didn’t want to love him. She wanted to be her own woman, not chained to him by the strength of her feelings.

  Now his fingers locked about her wrist, making a double shackle. “Kelly, what’s wrong?”

  She flinched as if his words were razor sharp. “What could possibly be wrong?” she asked flippantly. “I’ve got the world by the tail going downhill backwards!” She felt as brittle as breaking glass. She wanted to cry for all those lovely nights so long ago when she’d been young and in love.

  “Break . . . break. . . . Mobile one calling Mountain View base station.” Mike’s voice came in on the radio and Jonathan gave a muffled curse.

  Kelly pressed the button on the microphone. “Mountain View, go ahead.”

  “Is that you, Ramblin’ Rose?”

  “Ten-four. You got the Ramblin’ Rose.”

  “You got the Barefoot Renegade on this end.”

  “No kidding! I thought I had the president of Mobile Oil. What’s your ten-twenty, Barefoot?”

  “I’m out here on this ice-covered drag-strip heading for Hurricane. I’ve got a call to make there and may not make it back to the lodge tonight. I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

  Kelly darted a glance at Jonathan, whose sharp eyes watched every move she made. She knew Mike wanted to spite Jonathan. She felt like a bone between two dogs.

  “Ten-four, good buddy. Keep the rubber side down and I’ll catch you on the flip-flop. This Ramblin’ Rose will be clear.”

  “Bye, Rose. This Barefoot Renegade is . . . ga—on!”

  Kelly looked up to see Jonathan raise his eyes to the ceiling in disgust. Her own eyes lit up and a giggle escaped her lips.

  “What’s the matter, Jonathan? Too much corn? We’ll have to find a C.B. handle for you. Let’s see, you could be the Boston Bean!” She felt deliciously wicked. Her blue eyes danced and her delicate mouth smiled mischievously. “Break . . . break for the Boston Bean. Are you on the channel, Bean?”

  She didn’t know what to expect from her teasing but didn’t care. Under her gaze his hard features softened and his lips turned up. Finally he broke into a wide grin. They sat looking into each other’s eyes and Kelly’s thoughts were blown from her like leaves before a wind.

  “Ten-four, Ramblin’ Rose, you got the Bean.” Had he really said that?

  Kelly burst out laughing. Jack watched her in silence, a gentle smile flitting across his lips.

  “Can you imagine Katherine’s reaction to that?” She leaned forward, her eyes glinting between dark lashes. “She’d insist on Boston Bean, Esquire!” She propped her elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her hand, trying to suppress her giggles.

  “Jack!” Bonnie’s voice came from deep within the pantry. “Would ya help me get this box off the shelf? When God passed out arms, he gave me the leftovers!”

  Reluctantly, Jonathan got to his feet, his eyes still on Kelly. There was nothing arrogant or frightening about him now.

  “Jack!”

  Jonathan muttered an oath. Then, “Kelly?”

  “What do you want?”

  He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  “What for?�
��

  “For letting me have a glimpse of the Kelly I fell in love with two years ago.”

  Her face paled. Fear closed like a cold hand around her heart. She was furious with herself for letting down the barrier. All he needed was one little crack in the armor she had built around herself and he would work his way into her heart again.

  “No! That Kelly is dead. I’m no longer the stupid, naive person you met in Anchorage.”

  “Jack!”

  “Damn!” he muttered and turned toward the pantry.

  “Watch it . . . Jack.” Her taunting words dripped with sarcasm. “Your image is slipping.”

  His face was unreadable, and she wondered if her jeeringly spoken words had upset him. She felt uneasy beneath his stare and hurriedly looked away when she saw his face harden and a muscle jerk beside his mouth.

  Dinner that evening was lively and amusing. Bonnie had covered the long trestle table with a blue denim cloth and served the food on heavy, white plates. An oil lamp, its glass chimney sparkling, stood in the middle of the table surrounded by bowls of deliciously cooked food. The guests, enjoying the homey atmosphere, kept up a lively conversation while Bonnie, dressed all in red with her bleached hair piled haphazardly on top of her head, kept the table supplied with hot rolls straight from the oven.

  Kelly noted that the silence between her and Jonathan seemed to pass more or less unnoticed. She watched the pretty blonde with large breasts flirt openly with him, her heavily coated lashes brushing against her cheeks. The girl was blatantly eager but her companion merely transferred his attention to the other woman of the party. The two remaining males concentrated on Kelly, giving her little time to analyze her feelings when the blonde looped her arm through Jonathan’s. They all passed through the swinging doors into the main room, where Clyde had built up a cheerful fire and Lawrence Welk music was coming from the stereo.

  “My favorite music!” The tall doctor slipped his arm around Kelly and began to dance.

  “Liar. You don’t look like the Lawrence Welk type to me.” Kelly followed his lead around the room, her hand on his broad shoulder.

  “No? What type am I? Willie Nelson?” He held her away and smiled.

  “I’d say you’re more the Beach Boys type.”

  “How did you know?” He began to sing and whirled her around the room.

  She laughed. “Stop it, you’re making me dizzy!” Out of the corner of her eye she noticed two other couples dancing. Jonathan was standing with his back to the fireplace watching them.

  “Your husband is watching us. Do you mind?”

  “How did you know he’s my husband?”

  “He told me when he brought in the luggage.” He held her away again to look down into her face. “Something tells me your marriage is on the rocks.”

  She looked up at him in surprise, then stiffened. “Something tells me it’s none of your business!” Pain made her voice harsh.

  “Oops! I put my foot in, didn’t I? You’re not quite over him, yet. Breaking up is hard to do, but you’ll survive. Take it from me. It’ll be easier if you send him packing, or else split from this place.”

  “I don’t recall asking your advice,” Kelly said coolly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see about setting up a game table for my other guests.”

  “Games? Great idea. How about spin the bottle, or button, button who’s got the button, or . . . strip poker?” He grinned and she had to laugh. It was impossible to be angry at him for long.

  “Come help me set up the table. Do you play Scrabble?”

  “If you let me use dirty words.”

  “Are you ever serious? What kind of a doctor are you?”

  “I specialize in female sexual problems.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Yes. I’m a foot doctor.”

  Later, Kelly learned Andy was a general practitioner and had given up a lucrative practice in Seattle to become resident doctor on an Indian reservation in Washington. This was his first vacation in two years, and he had come to Anchorage to attend a seminar and to visit his sister.

  As the evening wore on, Kelly found herself becoming tense at the realization that she would have to go back to the cabin with Jonathan. Even as she was trying to think of a reason not to leave, Jonathan was explaining that Bonnie and Clyde were in the room off the kitchen. If they wanted anything, they need only ring the bell on the desk.

  “Breakfast will be served anytime before noon,” he concluded, holding Kelly’s jacket for her to slip into.

  “We’ll see you in the morning.” He ushered her out the door before she could say goodnight.

  The night seemed bitterly cold after the warmth of the lodge. Kelly eased down the icy steps, shrugging off the hand Jonathan offered. She refused to admire the beauty of the moonlight on the fresh snow or the dark, drooping evergreens that stood like proud sentinels around the resort buildings. She walked ahead of him toward her home, lost in disturbing thoughts. They reached the cabin and Jonathan opened the door and switched on the light before moving aside for Kelly to enter.

  “I won’t be so optimistic as to expect a few quiet moments with my wife before our own hearth.” He helped her with her coat and removed his own.

  She prickled with annoyance at his tone. “I’m having a cup of hot chocolate.”

  “Sounds good. I haven’t had a cup of chocolate in years.”

  “Why not? Too busy drinking tea?” Even as she said it, she wanted to take it back. She glanced at him. He had settled down on the couch and extended his stocking feet toward the blaze.

  “The boarding school where I lived didn’t offer chocolate, so I never acquired a taste for it.”

  “How long did you live at the boarding school?” Kelly asked, pouring milk into a pan on the stove.

  “Until I went to college.”

  Kelly was about to ask, what college, but she knew it would be Harvard, Princeton, or Yale, so she didn’t bother. She lapsed into silence, thinking how little she knew about this man she had married. She stirred cocoa and sugar into the hot milk and poured the steaming liquid into mugs, then carried one to Jonathan and seated herself in the rocker, nursing her own mug in both hands.

  “Isn’t it time we started to get to know each other? It seems absurd that we’ve been married for two years without knowing the first thing about what makes each other tick,” he said softly. “Of course we’ve been together only a third of that time.”

  “I think you know everything there is to know about me.” She wished he wouldn’t keep looking at her.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I saw a completely different side of you today.”

  “So?” She shrugged and lapsed into silence.

  “Talk to me, Kelly.” The force of his voice betrayed his irritation.

  “What about? You never told me much about yourself, either.” She tried to make her voice casual, uncaring.

  “It didn’t seem relevant. I think you can sum up my life in two words . . . work and work. I’ve spent far too many hours working, or flying around the world working. When I wasn’t working, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

  “Oh, I’m sure Katherine and Nancy could have thought of something.”

  He threw her a piercing look. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Don’t be stupid. I’m sure you know Nancy would have loved to help you relax.” She got to her feet.

  “A remark like that almost makes me think you’re jealous.”

  She stared in blank bewilderment, then jerked the empty mug from his hand. “Fun—ny!” She set the mugs on the table and opened the glass door of the mantel clock and began to wind the spring.

  “Getting late, is it?” Jonathan asked in a sardonic tone.

  “Yes, and I want to get to bed,” she snapped.

  “So do I,” he said softly, and her face burned.

  To cover her confusion, she tried to lift a large chunk of wood and put it on the fireplace grate. It slipped in her hands, t
he rough wood tearing at her palms and ripping a fingernail. She could have bitten her tongue for allowing the small cry to escape her lips. Jonathan was by her side instantly, taking the heavy log from her hands. He threw it on the grate and shoved it in place with the firetongs. By the time he turned, Kelly was halfway to the bedroom door.

  “Kelly, wait. Let me see your hand.”

  “It’s only a scratch,” she said over her shoulder.

  “I want to see for myself. I think it’s more than a mere scratch.”

  She turned on him like a spitting cat. “Bug off, Jonathan. I’ve about had all of you I can take. Leave me alone!” In her anguish she felt herself losing control.

  He searched her features intently. “All right, Kelly. I won’t bother you if you’d rather be alone. I was concerned for you and wanted to help if I could.”

  Tears filled Kelly’s eyes. She’d been prepared for bitterness but not kindness. She fled to her room before the tears could fall.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  KELLY COULDN’T HELP SHIVERING. The look in Jonathan’s eyes as she turned away from him made her afraid—not of him, but of herself. She hated him, hated her own weakness for him. Her head started whirling dizzily. Her breathing quickened and a longing almost like a pain washed over her—a longing for that time long ago when she and Mike and Marty had been young and silly. When the only problems they’d had were getting the latest Beatles record or enough gas in the truck to go to Talkeetna.

  She walked slowly into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She paused. It was like seeing someone else. Her body looked the same, but her face was empty. She felt as if she didn’t belong to herself. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry. Tears won.

  “You’re dumb, Kelly!” she muttered. “You’re dumb and stupid. You’ve not only screwed up your own life, you’ve ruined things for Mike and Marty as well.”

  The palm of her hand had begun to sting so she went to the bathroom in search of medication. She felt so lonely, so lost, so frantic.

  She heard Jonathan moving about in the other bedroom and her heart gave a sudden sickening leap. She dabbed unnecessarily hard at the scratches on her palm where the red blood beaded. She knew and understood the bond that existed between her and Jonathan, just as she knew that the almost unbearable longing that swept her at times was more than a mere physical longing, but a yearning to belong, to have someone of her very own. She shook her head, trying to force herself to remember her true motive for leaving him, to steel herself against the dangerous knowledge that he was scarcely twenty feet away and his lips, his arms, his masculinity, could engulf her and carry her away to forgetfulness. To give way to the treachery of such thoughts could only lead to more heartbreak. A shudder ran through her. With trembling fingers she replaced the bottle in the medicine cabinet. Jonathan was a taker. He would take all she had to give and her own need, her pride, would be wiped away like so many snowflakes on a hot stove.