by Janet Dailey
She would never forget the horrible pain that gripped her when she had seen Sheila step into Logan's arms and plant a kiss on his lips before he lovingly walked her to the door, an arm firmly wrapped around her shoulders hugging her to his side. Jennifer had run swiftly into her bedroom feigning sleep when Sheila had later glanced in. And this morning, Sheila had practically come right out and said that she and Logan were getting married.
Jennifer sighed deeply as she stepped off the curb into the street. Simultaneously a horn blared loudly in her ear and a hand jerked her quickly backwards as a car drove past just inches from her.
'You'd better watch where you're going,' a middle-aged man reprimanded her. 'You very nearly got yourself killed!'
'Th-thank you,' Jennifer stammered. 'I'm afraid I was daydreaming.'
'Daydreaming and walking in traffic don't mix.'
'They certainly don't,' she agreed shakily. 'Thank you again.'
The man tipped his Stetson cowboy hat and walked on. This time Jennifer looked carefully before crossing the street. For a brief moment she wondered how much easier it would have been if the car had hit her, before shaking the morbid thought off. That was wishing an accident on herself, she thought with a shudder, a coward's form of suicide.
Reaching the shopping centre, Jennifer idly glanced in the shop windows as she strolled by. The only reason she had come to town was to get away. Oh, she could stop to see if her watch was repaired, maybe splurge on some perfume or cosmetics, but it was mostly a form of escape. Too bad she couldn't escape this afternoon's skiing outing, she grimaced. She increased her pace as she recognized the jeweller's sign just ahead of her.
As she drew even with the display window, Jennifer glanced inside. With a tightening throat she saw Logan standing inside, a clerk hovering beside him with a small black velvet ring box in his hand. Logan was smiling in approval, taking the box out of the clerk's hands and placing it in his pocket. When he turned towards the door, Jennifer ducked quickly into an adjoining store, the pain constricting her chest until she could hardly breathe.
'An engagement ring!' her heart cried. 'For Sheila!'
Blindly she watched him stride by, lithe and handsome. She hurried out of the store and into the jeweller's, hesitating, like a deer about to flee from danger, just inside the door. The clerk that had been with Logan was talking to another younger clerk.
'Diamonds always seemed so much more acceptable as engagement rings to me,' the younger one was saying.
'You certainly can't accuse Logan of settling for something cheaper. That stone must have cost him a fortune and with that circlet of diamonds around it—well! He told me it was a tradition in the Taylor family that all prospective brides receive an engagement ring of—'
Jennifer involuntarily emitted a cry at his words, causing the older clerk to cut off his sentence and turn to her solicitously.
'Can I help you, miss?' he inquired.
'No, no, thank you.' And she dashed out of the door.
As Jennifer approached the chair lift, she didn't need a second glance to recognize the figure striding towards her in a bright blue and black jacket and black ski pants. His yellow snow goggles were pushed back from his face, offering her no protection from his angry eyes.
'Do you realize it's half past one?' Logan questioned sharply.
'My watch is being repaired, I didn't realize it was so late.' Her own dark-tinted goggles were in place, hiding her pained expression from his penetrating eyes.
'There are a lot of things you haven't realized lately.' He gripped her arm firmly, pushing her ahead of him, two pair of skis firmly clamped under his other arm. 'I told Sheila not to let you out of her sight today, to lead you here if necessary.'
'I promised her I would come. She knew I'd keep my word.'
'The way you've been dodging things this past week, I wouldn't have been at all surprised if you hadn't shown up today.' He glared at her as they stopped, and dropped the skis on the ground in front of her. 'I was just getting ready to look for you, to drag you here by force if I had to.'
'And now you're angry because I came and you didn't get that thrill of knowing you were solely responsible for having everything just the way you wanted it,' she lashed out bitterly, wishing her sharp words would cut as deep as his.
'I don't know what's eating you.' Anger was etched in the line of his jaw and the grim set of his mouth. 'But yes, today is important to me, and I would like everything to be just right, I once thought Sheila's happiness was important to you, too, but I guess that's changed, hasn't it?'
Even though masked by her dark glasses, Jennifer couldn't meet his gaze. She did want Sheila to be happy, but she couldn't help wishing that her sister's happiness was not found in the arms of the man she loved. Ever since leaving the jewellers', she had been telling herself that she was fortunate to find out for sure that Logan and Sheila were going to be married, that now she had an opportunity to adjust to it privately and manage to put on a convincing show when it was actually presented to her as an accomplished fact. But it wasn't as easy as that. Just seeing Logan brought the aching torment to the surface.
Logan was bending near her feet, shoving her boots into the skis as if they were inanimate objects not attached to her body. His roughness forced her to grab his shoulder to keep from being thrown off balance into the snow. His muscles tightened at her touch. Quickly she released her hold as if she had touched a high-voltage wire and was recoiling from the shock.
'Where's Sheila?' Jennifer asked hurriedly as Logan bent to buckle his own skis.
'I sent them on up to the top,' pausing sarcastically, 'when I thought I'd have to go looking for you.'
So the foursome was complete once more, Jennifer thought bitterly. And poor Dirk was to be included as a witness to Logan's victory, too.
She avoided Logan's guiding hand as they joined the line waiting for the chair-lift. Minutes later they were aboard the lift and swinging towards the top. She glanced bleakly at Logan out of the comer of her eye, the dark gold stocking cap that had been in his pocket completely covered his chestnut brown hair and the yellow-tinted goggles made his brown eyes look amber. But there was no relief in the arrogant flare of his nose, or the grim line of his mouth. Nor was there any relief for the dull ache throbbing in Jennifer's heart.
Then they were at the top, swinging off the chairs on to their skis, gliding silently across the snow, the chattering, laughing voices of other skiers mocking their sober, quiet faces. They stopped at the edge of the first slope. Jennifer planted her poles in the snow while she adjusted her hat and mittens. She could hardly bear the gnawing tension that grew with each progressive minute of silence.
'Sheila told me you've decided to go back to Minneapolis.' Harshness seeped through his calm statement.
'That's right.' Jennifer's chin lifted mutinously.
'You're going to accept that man's—what should I call it?—proposition.' His degrading words cut through her like a sword.
The wind whistled out of the grey leaden clouds above them, picking up the snow at their feet and sending it dancing down the slope.
'Would it do any good to ask you to stay longer?' Logan sighed in exasperated anger. 'For Sheila's sake, if nothing else?'
Jennifer's mouth twisted bitterly. How typically presumptuous of him to think that all he had to do was ask.
'Jenny—" he began. His voice possessed a commandingly tender tone that wrenched at her self-control.
'Don't call me that!' she cried huskily, with tears brimming her eyes.
Grabbing her ski poles, she flipped herself expertly around so that she was facing down the slope. Before Logan's outstretched hand could stop her, she was pushing off to race down the ski run.
In seconds she was careering down the hill, the trees blurring into a solid wall on either side and the other skiers were faceless objects to be zigzagged around 'Too fast! You're going too fast!' The alarm bell rang in her head. The sound of another pair of skis slushing after
her urged her to strain for every ounce of speed she could muster.
'Slow down!' Logan ordered as he drew alongside.
For one brief instant, she toyed with the idea of maintaining her breakneck speed. A broken leg, a broken neck, weren't they better than a broken heart? Then she straightened, making her sweeps wider down the run until she turned her skis at right angles and braked to a halt.
'What were you trying to do, kill yourself?' Logan's rage unleashed itself as he stopped in front of her, blocking her way down the mountain.
Her face was drained of all colour while her knees trembled weakly beneath her. The cold air burned her lungs as she gasped for breath.
'You're not going to answer me, as usual,' he muttered angrily as Jennifer continued to avoid his face. 'If you're not lashing out at me with that damned barbed tongue of yours, then you're running away. When are you going to stop fighting me and—'
'Oh, look, there's Sheila and Dirk!' Jennifer exclaimed breathlessly, recognizing the bright blue ski suit with the moulding white stripe down the side that belonged to Sheila.
She waved frantically at them, glad of anything that would offer her a respite of Logan's presence. At last Sheila spotted them and waved back gaily. Jennifer could sense that Logan gave in with fuming reluctance. His only comment was a biting order to keep their pace down. As Logan and Jennifer neared the other couple, Sheila and Dirk set out down the hill, with Sheila darting back and forth in front of the more staid and cautious Dirk.
In the blink of an eye, the scene changed. There was a spray of snow, a sharp ringing cry, and a cartwheeling blue and white figure erupting in front of Jennifer. Then, almost in slow motion, she saw Dirk's red jacket rushing to the prone woman in blue at the same time that Logan left her side and hurled himself towards both of them.
'Sheila!' A sobbing sound was involuntarily drawn from Jennifer's lips.
By the time she reached the group, a member of the ski patrol had already joined with Logan in examining her sister for any broken bones while Dirk painstakingly brushed the snow from her face. Jennifer stood silently to one side, watching Logan carefully removing Sheila's skis. Her sister's eyes fluttered open and she moaned softly.
'It looks as if it's just the right foot,' Logan told the man from the ski patrol.
'Right. I'll go and get the basket sled and alert them below to contact an ambulance,' he replied before skiing away.
Jennifer felt so apart from the scene, as if she was looking into someone else's nightmare. Her anxious eyes were fixed on Logan's tight-lipped face as he spoke with Dirk. She didn't hear what was said, only felt the cold chilling shock at her sister's inert body. Time became an immeasurable thing. It seemed so long before the ski patrol returned, wrapped her sister in blankets, and tied her into the basket sled, but it probably had only been a matter of minutes. Although they were halfway down the mountainside already, their skis made such slow progress to the bottom. She was half-conscious of Logan by her side, but her attention was focused on Sheila.
At the hospital Jennifer had still not shaken off that peculiar dazed feeling. There was Dirk pacing the waiting room floor. Logan was somewhere in one of the admitting offices filling out those long, interminable forms. And she was sitting on the green tweed couch, the cup of coffee still clutched tightly in her hands. Logan had given it to her shortly after they had wheeled Sheila in, ordered her to take a drink, waited long enough to see that she did, and then he had left. The rest of the coffee had long been cold. A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped.
'You never drank the coffee,' Logan said softly, removing the cup from her hands and placing it on the table. 'Are you all right?'
Jennifer shook her head numbly.
'Sheila?' she asked.
'They've taken her up to X-ray. She should be down shortly,' Logan told her, his eyes following Dirk's nervous pacing. 'She put a ski pole through her foot. The doctor thinks she's probably broken a bone as well.'
A man of medium height dressed in the pale green hospital uniform walked into the room. A woman in white appeared at his side, glancing at the group in the waiting room before she spoke. Jennifer caught the muffled words 'sister' and 'fiancé' as the man nodded his head and turned to walk towards them.
'It's good to see you, Logan.' The man reached out and shook Logan's hand affably. 'I would prefer it under different circumstances, as I'm sure you would. You must be Miss Glenn.' He turned to Jennifer, then to the impatient Dirk. 'Mr. Hamilton. I'm Doctor March.'
Jennifer tried to concentrate on his words when he began to explain Sheila's condition. But the only words that penetrated were 'puncture' and 'a fracture of the tarsal bone in her foot'.
'I have her under mild sedation now. If you'd like to see her for a few minutes, you may,' he finished calmly.
Jennifer clutched Logan's hand tightly as he helped her from the couch and led her down a hallway to Sheila. She stared down at her sister silently, hardly recognizing the pale face surrounded by a cloud of black hair. Then her eyelids fluttered open, revealing the brilliant blue eyes that were her sister's trademark. Jennifer smiled down at this fragile china doll who had always before seemed so indestructible.
'Hello,' Sheila said thickly. 'I really did it good this time, huh?'
'You certainly did,' Logan smiled, filling in the silence when Jennifer had only been able to nod. 'We can't stay. Dirk's outside waiting to see you.'
'The children?' Sheila raised her head weakly from her pillow.
'We'll take care of them, don't worry,' Logan assured her. 'We'll come back to see you later when you're not so groggy.'
Logan had already guided her to the doorway when Jennifer finally found her voice and managed a tremulous good-bye to her sister. He led her back into the waiting room, set her on the couch and told her to wait for him.
While Logan had gone, Jennifer fought to get a grip on herself. She knew the strain of this last month had weakened her, but now Sheila needed her more than ever, especially the children. She had to get control of her nerves before she saw Eric and Cindy. They were so dependent on their mother, their only parent left, that she just had to make sure that they didn't become over-emotional as she had done.
If only she could appear as calm as Logan, she thought, watching him come confidently towards her. She managed a brief but composed smile as she met his questioning glance.
'Ready to go?' he asked.
Jennifer nodded. Once outside the hospital, Logan reached over and removed the russet brown cap from her head. The sudden coolness of the brisk afternoon air was a refreshing balm to her tense nerves.
'What did you do that for?' Jennifer asked, automatically shaking her head, enjoying the feel of the cool wind playing through her red-gold hair.
'So you could shake away some of that fear and tension that's built up inside you,' Logan smiled. Instantly Jennifer was captured by the comforting warmth of his gaze.
Sheila. She must remember Sheila and not let her personal feelings interfere. Not now, later when she was alone, but not now, she ordered herself.
Although the ride to Sheila's house was made in silence, it wasn't the same as the cocoon of silence that had surrounded Jennifer after the accident. This was companionable, and she drew strength from it. When Logan slowed the car to a stop, Jennifer turned and began to offer her thanks.
'Would you like me to come with you while you tell the children?' Logan interrupted before she could finish.
'Would you?' Her smile was shaky with relief at his offer. For all her hard-won composure, Jennifer didn't really want to face Eric and Cindy alone.
'Of course. I planned to all along.' His teasing smile did flip-flops to her heart as he opened the car door and stepped outside. She followed suit.
They had barely entered the front door when they were accosted by two accusing children.
'Where have you been?' Cindy asked in false anger.
'Where's Mom?' Eric's voice expressed the alarm that Cindy had tried to hid
e.
As calmly and as patiently as she could, Jennifer explained what had happened. She understood the panic-stricken looks. Mothers were supposed to be invulnerable to those kind of things. But somehow, with Logan's steadying presence, they managed to accept it and—Jennifer said a silent prayer of gratitude—even to see a bit of humour in it, thanks to Logan. He had stepped in and made it an adventure to them. Before Jennifer knew what was happening, they had talked Logan into staying for supper, instinctively seizing on his idea and using it to ensure his acceptance of their invitation.
A smile of pleasure played on Jennifer's lips as she realized that it hadn't taken much coaxing on their part to get him to agree. Of course, it was for the children's sake, she reminded herself. But still, it didn't hurt too much to indulge in a little wishful thinking. When she glanced at the clock, Jennifer was surprised to see how late it was. The question of supper was not premature. She excused herself quickly and hurried into the kitchen, knowing this was going to be a special meal and not just to boost the children's spirits either.
When Jennifer called them in to supper, it was with a certain pride, knowing that the meal of pork chops, steamed rice with tomato gravy, crisp celery stalks stuffed with cheese, and pineapple upside-down cake for dessert, though it was a simple meal, was attractive to the eye as well as deliciously edible.
There was so much laughter and chatter at the table that evening, Jennifer found it difficult to remember that Sheila was lying in a hospital bed. Only when her sister's eyes laughed at her from Eric's face was the realization brought back with a slightly sobering effect. But she didn't let it tarnish her evening. To Jennifer, seated across the table from Logan, watching his smiling face as he listened interestedly to a long dissertation by Eric on the things that were wrong with school, this was a stolen hour, one she could cherish and dream about, she and Logan seated at a table, a brown-eyed pair of children on either side with winking dimples on each cheek.
