“Separated?” He searched her eyes, and she nodded.
“I’m sorry you’re so unhappy.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “There’s nothing I can say, except that the hurt will go away after a while.”
“Promise?” Her lips quivered and she blinked to hold back tears.
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Andy hung his parka on the rack beside the door. “You know something? I like it here. I really do.”
“You sound surprised. I think it’s Bonnie’s cooking you like. Come see her. She’s reigning supreme in the kitchen once again.”
Kelly held the swinging door open. Andy posed in the doorway, his smiling eyes sweeping the kitchen. “Where’s my queen of the cookstove?”
“Andy!”
Bonnie’s chair rolled out of the storage room. Jonathan followed behind carrying several canisters. Kelly stood by the door, a fixed smile on her face. Jonathan glanced from her to Andy with a rigid expression and a tiny muscle jumped in his cheek.
“Beautiful as ever,” Andy said, taking Bonnie’s hands. “And I see you’ve still got the fellows trailing after you. How are you, Templeton?” He held a hand out to Jonathan. For a second Kelly thought Jonathan wasn’t going to take it and the smile slipped from her face. Then, looking as if he detested both of them, he shook it.
“Doctor.”
The sound of the deep voice touched something in Kelly’s memory, making her heart jump.
“I never got to thank you for sending me that candy, Andy. Or for what you done that day.” Bonnie held onto Andy’s hand, patting the back of it.
“I’ll tell you what,” Andy said with a leering grin. “Since I missed out on wrapping up that sexy leg of yours, I’ll take a blueberry pie and call it even.”
“It’s a deal! Push me over to the table, Jack, and I’ll get started. Clyde fixed me this here table, Andy. I can get my leg under it and work just fine.”
“Is that ugly old Clyde still hanging around?” Andy teased. “I might have to ship him yet to get you away from him.”
“You’re a flirt, Andy Mullins. A plain old flirt.”
“Shhh . . . Don’t tell Kelly. She’s suspicious of me as it is.”
Jonathan watched Kelly, his eyes shuttered. “I thought you were due back at the reservation,” he commented without looking at Andy.
“I got an extension to attend another seminar and come back here to see my girls,” he answered lightly. “How’s Charlie doing?” he asked Kelly. “Suppose we can hitch him to the sled and go for a ride? I ride . . . you mush.”
Kelly laughed. “Oh, no! This is a democracy! We take turns.”
“I hate taking turns!”
“Tough! The policy at Mountain View Lodge is share and share alike.”
“Not everything,” Jonathan said stiffly, bitingly.
Andy seemed not to notice his tone. “I thought there was a catch somewhere,” he said gloomily. “Oh, well, if I’ve got to mush, I’ll mush.”
Kelly was kept so busy fetching and carrying for Bonnie while she prepared the meal that she didn’t have time to think of the conversation until later. When she did and remembered Jonathan’s tense words, “Not everything,” she saw in her mind’s eye a hollow-cheeked figure. Jonathan had lost weight. She hadn’t looked at him, really looked at him, for a while. She hadn’t noticed before that the work he was doing in that cold shed was taking a toll on him physically. Soon the glider would be ready to fly and he would be leaving. Then she could finally begin to rebuild her life.
“I think that doctor has a crush on you.” The meal was over and Marty and Kelly were cleaning up after having sent Bonnie off to her room to rest.
Kelly looked up from scraping food into Charlie’s bowl. “Andy is like that with all the women. He just likes to flirt.”
“Jonathan didn’t like it,” Marty said with a warning tone that pricked at Kelly’s patience. “I think it bugs him to have men pay attention to you.”
“That’s too bad! He can shove off anytime he wants. No one’s holding him here,” Kelly retorted bitterly.
Marty stopped working to look at Kelly with puzzled eyes. “Why do you get so angry? You used to be the most happy-go-lucky person I knew, but lately you’re like a bear with a sore foot.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“Oh, Kelly. Everything would be so wonderful if you and Jonathan could iron out your differences.”
“Don’t count on it, Marty, because it isn’t going to happen.”
“Are you interested in Andy?” Marty asked hesitantly.
The simple question sparked an idea in Kelly’s mind and she thought a moment before saying, “He’s very nice.” She allowed her eyes to go dreamy for an instant. “He’s nice, he’s kind, and he’s fun. I haven’t had any fun in a long time and I admit I like to be with him.”
“I hope that’s me you’re talking about.” Kelly spun around, her eyes wide. “Mike! Stop sneaking up on me!” She moved to hit his arm but he grabbed her hand and twisted it behind her.
“Now, me proud beauty. I’ve got you in my power,” he said in a villainous voice.
“Let go or I’ll tell Marty about the girl you talk to on the radio, the one with the melodious voice.”
“What girl?” Marty was quick to pick up.
“All right,” Mike said, and let go of Kelly’s arm. “But you’re a killjoy.”
“A girl’s got to take every advantage she can,” Kelly said haughtily, rubbing her wrist.
“Are you man-handling the pretty women, Mike?” Andy asked, coming through the door. “You want me to knock him on his can, Kelly?” he teased.
“Not this time, Andy. I’m afraid he might fight back and I want you to come down to the cabin. I’ve got a bottle of wine just begging to be opened.”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day. Hold on till I get my coat and I’ll be right with you.” He went back through the swinging door and Mike went to speak with Clyde.
“Kelly!” Marty hissed. “Are you out of your mind? Jonathan saw you wrestling with Mike and heard what you said to Andy. He looked as if he could have killed you! He won’t like it one bit if you take Andy down to your house.”
“Marty, understand this. I don’t care what Jonathan thinks. From now on I intend to please myself!”
Kelly and Andy stepped out into the cold night and walked down the path to the cabin. Kelly switched on a light and Andy whistled appreciatively.
“Mmmmm . . . nice! Cozy!”
“Cold, though. Hang your coat beside the door and I’ll stoke up the fire.”
“Let me do it,” he offered and set the firescreen aside. He knelt down in front of the fire to prod the glowing embers with a fire tool. “I can think of better ways to keep warm,” he grumbled.
“I just bet you can,” Kelly laughed. “How about a hot buttered rum? That should warm you up.”
“If that’s the best offer I’m going to get, I’ll take it.”
“You’re not nearly the wolf you pretend to be, Andy Mullins. If I said, come on, Andy, let’s go to bed, it would shock you to death.”
“Maybe, but I’d die happy.”
Kelly felt laughter bubble up in her. “Poor, deprived Andy. I bet you have all the Indian maidens on the reservation coming to your clinic with every excuse from hangnail to heartburn.” She set out mugs and put the kettle on to boil. “I’m sure I have a bottle of rum around here somewhere. There it is on the top shelf. Will you get it down, Andy?”
Andy came up behind her and reached for the bottle, his other hand resting on her shoulder. Kelly didn’t hear the door open, but she felt the cold draft. Looking under Andy’s arm, she saw Jonathan standing in the doorway. He stared at her in silence, then shut the door and took off his coat.
Andy’s hand squeezed Kelly’s shoulder in conspiratorial understanding. She knew she would have to say something.
“We’re having a hot rum, Jonathan. Would you like one?�
��
He strolled toward them, a tall, taut figure, maddeningly in control of himself. “I’ll have mine straight,” he said, getting out a glass.
“There’s whiskey, if you’d rather have it,” Kelly murmured.
“This will do fine.” He poured himself a drink, gulped it down, and poured another.
Kelly’s heart sank as she saw how much he was drinking. He swallowed it rapidly, his fingers tight around the water glass. She mixed the hot drink for herself and Andy, handed the glass to him with a forced smile, then went to stand beside the fire. Andy followed.
“I’d like to be here when you take that glider up,” Andy said. “Mike mentioned your plan to try her out next week.”
“It’ll depend on the weather,” Jonathan replied and the look he flashed at Kelly was as brief as lightning and just as searing. He stood beside the kitchen table, the rum bottle in one hand and the water glass in the other.
Andy made several more attempts to keep the conversation going which Jonathan answered as briefly as possible. Finally Andy set down his mug and went to get his coat.
“Thanks for the drink, Kelly. I’d better get back up to the lodge or Maggie and Bob will think I’ve deserted them.”
“I’m glad you came down, Andy. We’ll do it again, soon.” The smile stayed on her face, although her muscles were aching from the strain.
As soon as the door closed behind Andy, Jonathan set his glass down on the table with a crash. “So, were you going to take him to bed?”
“And if I was? What business is it of yours?”
“I’ll tell you what business it is of mine,” he shouted. His hands closed roughly on her shoulders and his dark eyes burned into hers. His fingers moved to her long bare throat. “You’re my wife, damn you! No man touches my wife, but me!”
He dragged her to him, his mouth bruising her lips, his arms hurting her. He seized her dark hair in his hand and pulled her head back, then kissed her hard and long, his lips forcing her own to part so his tongue could plunge and probe.
She fought him with all her strength. She would never respond to him in this mood. If only his lips would soften, if only he would show some tenderness. He flung her onto the couch and stood over her with clenched fists, his face contorted with fury.
“I could kill you, Kelly! I don’t want to hurt you!”
She looked up at him, white and trembling. “Please go.”
He nodded wearily, his eyes flashing with shame and self-contempt. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
In a few quick strides he had plucked his coat from the rack and disappeared into the cold, dark night.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE MEN CARRIED the glider out of the shed, unfolded the brightly colored wings, and snapped them in place. Kelly had looked forward to, yet dreaded, this day. It was midmorning. There were several hours of sunlight left in the clear, cloudless day. Clyde started and restarted the motor, while Tram buckled Jonathan into the folded canvas chair suspended from the aluminum frame.
Kelly stood beside Marty, silently watching Jonathan. An almost breathless feeling came over her, an urgency to beg him not to go up in the flimsy contraption. He didn’t look at her and when he put a crash helmet on over the ski mask he was wearing, he looked like an astronaut preparing for blastoff. The men gathered around him, as excited as small boys, giving advice, wishing him luck, telling him not to damage their toy.
“Are you going to wish him luck?” Marty asked. When Kelly shook her head, she added, “Well, I am!” She ducked under the wing and placed her hand on Jonathan’s arm to get his attention. “Good luck, Jonathan. Be careful. Don’t get to thinking you’re a bird up there and land in the trees.”
He lifted a mittened hand and waved. The sight sent new dread shooting through Kelly.
Then the roar of the snowmobile drowned out any other words. The chain link between the aircraft and the snowmobile tightened and the glider began to move. Mike would tow it out to the clearing, then pull it into the wind. When the plane was airborne, Jonathan would release the tow rope. He planned to circle the area several times, keeping the resort in sight.
In a matter of minutes the gilder and the snowmobile were out of sight. Kelly heard the roar of the engine as the machine picked up speed, then the orange, green, and yellow wings of the glider appeared like a giant butterfly above the trees. Jonathan was up there! The thought struck Kelly like a physical blow. She closed her eyes, not daring to look. When finally she opened them again, Jonathan and the giant wings looked like a large bird in the sky. He circled and passed over them and headed toward the mountains. Suddenly the small purr of the motor died and there was silence.
Everyone strained to hear the engine start again. “Start it, boy . . . start it,” Clyde mumbled aloud.
The silence was deafening. “What’s happening?” Kelly’s voice was so loud it shocked her. “What’s wrong?”
“The motor cut out on him, but he can ride on the current until he can get it started again,” Tram said calmly.
“But if he can’t get it started again . . . he’ll crash!” Her plaintive voice and anguished eyes begged Tram to tell her it wasn’t true.
“What do you care?” Marty said cruelly. “You wouldn’t even wish him luck.”
“Hush up!” Tram said sharply. Marty burst into tears and ran for the lodge.
Kelly scarcely knew when Marty left them. Her eyes were glued to the speck in the sky that was getting smaller and smaller. Mike roared away on the snowmobile, and as Kelly stood numbly, Clyde backed out the truck, paused long enough to pick up Tram, and drove away.
“What good is the truck?” Kelly shouted. “You can’t go cross-country!” She ran toward the cabin. “Don’t let him crash! Please don’t let him crash!”
Minutes later she was loading the sled with blankets, a first aid kit, whiskey, a battery light, and survival supplies. She had often seen her father aid stranded motorists or hunt for a lost tourist and she knew what to take. She was wearing her down-filled snowmobile suit. “Always take more warm clothing than you think you’ll need,” she remembered him saying. She grabbed her fur parka and two sleeping bags, and called to Charlie.
“Come on, boy. It’s up to you and me . . . or Mike. Those two greenhorns in the truck will never find him.” She talked softly to the dog, who stood patiently while she fitted his harness. “We’ll take your new frisbee along, Charlie. See, I’ll put it here on the sled where you can turn and see it. Let’s go, Charlie. Jonathan is somewhere out there and he could be hurt! Mush . . . mush!”
Charlie was delighted to be pulling the sled. He took off across the snow, past the kennel of yipping huskies, without giving them a glance. Kelly ran along behind, holding the handles. Once she’d been able to run several miles before hopping onto the sled runners, but after they passed the grove and were halfway across the clearing, she had to rest and let Charlie do the work. Keeping her eye on the spot on the horizon where she had last seen the glider, she kept Charlie moving, although she knew he was tiring. She strained for the sound of Mike’s snowmobile, but there was only silence.
Kelly was reasonably sure Jonathan would try to come down before he reached the mountains. She remembered hearing him say, “Lean forward and the glider goes down, lean back and it goes up. It’s the shifting of your weight that controls it.”
The wind picked up, stinging her face, and she pulled the ski mask down over her cheeks and nose. Gray clouds came rolling in from the north and the sky that had been clear a few hours ago was suddenly dull. Kelly pulled Charlie to a stop to allow him to rest and decided to put on the cross-country skis attached to the back of the sled. After that, the going was easier, but she looked at the sky with worried eyes and tried not to think about Jonathan lying in the wreckage of the glider. Doggedly she kept going, every step taking her farther and farther from the resort. Several times she blundered into a snowdrift. Often she was tempted to stop and rest. But soon the first intermittent snowflakes began to fal
l, and within fifteen minutes huge, fluffy flakes were falling fast. Worried that she wouldn’t be able to see the wreckage of the glider, Kelly began calling out a “Ha . . . looo,” a long high shrill sound that she knew carried on the brisk wind.
She looked at her watch and was surprised that she and Charlie had been traveling for almost two hours. It would be dark soon. She was frightened, so frightened she thought she would be sick, but she kept moving and calling. Once her voice cracked and she thought she couldn’t continue. Charlie howled.
A stabbing pain in her side forced her to stop for a moment. She thought she heard a faint sound, and lifted her cap from her ear to listen. Nothing. She let go with a long shrill “ha . . . looo,” and waited anxiously. The sound that floated back to her was indistinguishable, but definitely human!
“Mush, Charlie. Mush . . .” she shouted, directing him to the right. “Ha . . . looo, ha . . . looo,” she called into the near darkness. The answer became clearer, and she followed the sound, her heart beating a rapid tattoo of relief.
“Here . . . here . . .”
Charlie saw him first and barked his pleasure. Then Jonathan materialized out of the snowstorm, standing beside the glider, his helmet in his hand and his ski mask off. Snowflakes stuck to his dark beard. He grinned broadly at her and she threw herself into his arms, crying hysterically. The force of her weight knocked them both to the snow. Jonathan gave a surprised gasp:
“Kelly! For heaven’s sake. Kelly!”
It hadn’t occured to her that he wouldn’t know the person calling was her. Now he lifted her ski mask and held her close against him.
“You fool girl! Whatever possessed Mike to let you come out in this storm?”
“Mike had nothing to do with it, you idiot! Whatever possessed you to go up in that awful thing? You scared the hell out of me! I wish you’d broken your neck!”
Jonathan’s laugh rang out, and he nuzzled her warm face with his cold one. “No, you don’t! Shhh . . . Stop crying. . . . You were worried about me? You cared? You love me . . . that much?”
“I don’t even like you!” she shouted against his neck, but she was hoarse from calling out to him and the words came out in a croak.
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