by Peggy Webb
She lifted her eyes toward the loft bed. “We could . . .”
“Hannah, you siren. If you keep tempting me, I’ll never get around to another marriage proposal.”
“That’s the general idea.” She turned her face away from his and gazed at the antique tub. She’d been gloriously happy until he mentioned marriage. Why couldn’t things go on forever just the way they were? No commitment, no relinquishing of control, no possibility of failure.
“I love you, Hannah. I want us to be married, to have a life together, to have a family together.”
She pulled her hand away. “Please don’t touch me while you’re saying those things. I can’t think straight when you touch me.”
“All right. Nothing physical.” He settled back in his chair and pulled out his pipe. “You know, Colter was the first to discover that you were the woman I’d been searching for all my life. I had this impossible vision—a dream woman, someone old-fashioned and sweet and very dependent. All the time I was searching, my dream woman was right in front of my nose. You, Hannah.”
Hannah sat very still, concentrating on his every word. She’d promised him a hearing, and she owed it to both of them to make it a fair one.
“Did that dream include a cozy house and lots of children?”
“Yes. It still does—maybe. At least, it includes the children.” He swung his gaze around her cabin. “I’ve grown accustomed to this place. I can picture lace curtains at the windows and the two of us sitting beside the fire, sipping wine and making babies. Everything will work, Hannah, as long as I have you—my dream woman.”
A homemaker, she thought. He probably isn’t even aware of it, but he wants to turn me into a homemaker. She felt stifled. But she stilled her panic long enough to raise a sensible issue.
“But you’ve always done big-city work—crime fighting.”
“While I was here doing those stories on your work, I felt a certain creative freedom that I hadn’t felt in years. I’ve always known that someday I would do other kinds of writing. Now is the time to explore all the possibilities. We can work out a compromise, Hannah. We could work out a way to divide our time and our work between San Francisco and Glacier Bay.”
“Who would give up the most time? Which one of us would leave his work behind? How much of your work in San Francisco would you give up for me?” His hesitation before he answered was slight, but she saw it.
“As long as I’m writing, I’ll be happy.”
She jumped up and began to pace the room. “No! I won’t let you. You’d be miserable.”
“I wouldn’t. I told you—”
“And then you’d grow to hate me.” She whirled on him, interrupting him. “I won’t give up my work for any man, and I won’t ask that of you.”
“Hannah,” he said, reaching for her, but she sidestepped him. “I’m not asking you to give up your work.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“You called me your dream woman. You’ve assigned all your dreams to me. You say you’ve given up that image of a sweet, old-fashioned girl, and yet you envision the hearth fire and the lace curtains and the children.” She stopped her pacing and faced him, hands on her hips. “Jim, you haven’t given up that dream woman. You’re merely trying to make me fit the mold.”
“No. I love you the way you are.”
“Independent, stubborn, opinionated . . .”
“Dedicated, generous, and very, very feminine.”
“I won’t do the lace-curtain bit,”
“Forget the damned lace curtains.” He jumped up from the table. Taking her by the shoulders, he forced her to look at him. “I love you, Hannah. And I mean to have you. It’s as simple as that.”
Hallie’s first marriage played through Hannah’s mind—Robert, domineering and demanding, and Hallie, losing her freedom. She wouldn’t fall into the same trap as her twin sister.
“No,” she shouted. “No man can have me.”
Jim’s lips crushed down on hers. He hadn’t meant to do it this way, but what in the hell could a man do against the stubbornness of Dr. Hannah Donovan? He felt the swift yielding of her body, and his own rose to meet the challenge. As he slipped her robe from her shoulders, his last thought was that Hannah had been raising some legitimate questions, and he should be addressing them. But who could blame a man for being distracted by the wild, wanton pleasure of this fire-and-smoke woman?
Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the hearth rug. Thoughts of marriage were pushed aside as they lost themselves in the age-old rhythms of love.
o0o
Jim’s time in Glacier Bay seemed to be over before it had begun.
That’s what Hannah was thinking as she stood in the small airport at Gustavus, waiting for Jim’s flight to be called.
“I’ll be back, Hannah.” Jim slid his hand under her lightweight sweater and caressed her back. “Don’t think I’m discouraged by your continued refusals. And don’t ever think that I’ll give up. I won’t.”
“It will be a losing battle, Jim. I’ve made up my mind and I won’t change.”
He smiled. “It seems to me you’ve said never before.”
Her cheeks pinked. “That was different. Going to bed with a man one finds” —she paused, searching his face— “attractive is quite a different thing from marriage.”
“Attractive? You find me attractive?”
She had only to look at the devilish twinkle in his eye to know she was being teased.
“You know what I mean.”
“Why, Dr, Hannah Donovan. Is that a blush I see?”
Behind them the loudspeaker blared.
“Your fight’s being called.”
He cupped her face and leaned down for one last desperate kiss. “I love you, Hannah. I chased you out of habit, followed you out of intrigue, and fell in love with you out of the blue. And I won’t let you go.” He released her face and started for the gate. Turning, he called. “Remember that, Dr. Donovan. I love you.”
She was oblivious to the smiling faces that turned in her direction. All she could think of was Jim Roman, the West Coast Warrior. He’d taken her by storm once more, and she wasn’t sure she’d survived this invasion.
She walked to the window and watched until his plane became a mere speck in the sky, then she left the airport, climbed into her gray van, and headed back to her cabin.
o0o
For the next two days she wrestled with the loneliness and the feeling that she’d turned loose something precious. In spite of her turmoil, her work didn’t suffer. Instead, she noticed the same sharp edge of awareness she’d had since Jim Roman came into her life. Strike another Rai episode, she thought. That part of her past became a closed chapter.
But it seemed to her that there were still insurmountable problems in her relationship with Jim. She couldn’t be that simple dream woman he wanted. All she could do was bide her time.
o0o
It was the letters from Hallie and from San Francisco that set her into action.
Going through her mail at the institute on the Tuesday night after Jim had left, she came across Hallie’s letter.
Hannah, it said, I know I promised that I would never lecture again, but you’ve been on my mind. A part of me feels your unease, and I don’t know what’s going on. You’re never near the phone when I call. Is it love, Hannah? If so, please know this: Love is worth any risk and there is no problem that is too big to solve.
She laid aside Hallie’s letter and went through the rest of her mail. There were the usual requests for her to give lectures, a few applications from marine biology graduates looking for work, and a letter from San Francisco. Hannah opened if first. It was a job offer.
For years there had been a difference of opinion in the scientific community about the benefits of keeping whales in captivity for study and later releasing them to the wild. Hannah always had been of
the school that preferred studying them in the wild. Dr. Paley Overstreet, renowned cetologist from San Francisco, wanted her to do some work with whales in captivity. He hoped to create a crossover of scientists and perhaps a meeting of the minds on the question of captivity versus in-the-wild studies.
Hannah pondered Dr. Overstreet’s offer for a long time. Like a counterpoint to a melody, the phrase love is worth any risk kept running through her mind. At last she flung the letters aside and started back toward her cabin.
Pete was waiting for her on the trail. Summer will be over soon, Hannah thought as they made their way through the misty evening light. When her cabin came into view, she pictured herself spending another winter there. For the first time since she’d come to Glacier Bay, the thought brought no thrill. She’d have the Yukon Quest, of course, and her work was always exciting but something would be missing.
Suddenly Hannah knew what that something was: love. She’d accepted Jim as a challenge, seduced him out of curiosity, and fallen in love with him out of need. Yes, she finally admitted to herself, need. She needed Jim Roman, and there was only one thing to do about it—take the risk.
Her steps quickened as she neared her front porch. She had problems to solve and plans to make. She’d always been very good at those two things. And now, she decided she was going to excel.
o0o
Hannah was up far into the night thinking through her problems with Jim, and she stayed home Wednesday to carry out her plans. She’d just completed her call to San Francisco when she heard a knock at her door. Sleddog was standing on the front porch, his tufted white hair pomaded and looking like shiny Ping-Pong balls on his head. He was wearing his Sunday best shirt and his new coveralls. And he was looking as uncomfortable as a sinner in a church full of saints.
“Sleddog!” Hannah greeted him with genuine pleasure. “Come in.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to bother you.” Sleddog stood just inside the door and cast his eyes in the direction of the tub. “It’s just that . . . well, I thought . . . you see . . .” He finally gave up. Closing his mouth, he rocked back on his worn boot heels and looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but where he was.
Sleddog was usually taciturn, but he’d never been so obviously ill at ease. Hannah almost panicked. Was he bringing bad news about Jim? Surely somebody would have called her. She reached out and clutched his arm.
“Is it Jim? Has something bad happened to him?”
“Lordy, no.” In the face of her panic, Sleddog relaxed. “It’s just that . . .” He gave the tub one last look, then rushed forward like a snowball down a mountain, gaining momentum as he talked. “Well, you know, you said something about me using that newfangled tub whenever I wanted to, and well, it’s like this, I’m gittin’ a mite old for the crick. Them cold waters chill my bones. And well, I was wonderin’ . . .”
“Of course.” Hannah’s relief was so great, she practically dragged him across the floor toward the tub. “I’ll turn on the water and you can take all the time you like. I need to take the dogs on a run anyhow.” She turned the hot water on full force. “Do you want bubbles?”
Sleddog’s face colored. “Since I’m being an old fool anyhow, I might as well go all the way.”
Hannah dumped in a generous amount of lavender. Sleddog sniffed deeply.
“Ain’t that a pretty smell? Reminds me of my grandmother.”
“You just take your time, Sleddog. I’ll give a yell when I come back.”
Hannah turned off the water, reached for her sweater, and left him with his bubble bath. By the time she’d reached the front porch, Sleddog had stripped and was up to his neck in lavender bubbles. He was having the time of his life.
Hannah could hear him singing all the way out to the kennels. She smiled. Life was full of unexpected joy. Had it always been, or had she just never taken the time to notice until she fell in love with Jim?
She raced her dogs down the trail, singing.
o0o
Thursday hadn’t been a day off after all.
Jim wasn’t sorry. Actually he’d been glad for the work. It had kept his mind off Hannah. Four days away from her had felt like an eternity.
Thank heaven his work left him no time for useless soul searching. The business with the drug ring had suddenly come to a head. Jim’s reappearance at the newspaper had drawn the dealers out of hiding. Using some of his tips and the leads they’d been building for months, the police finally had rounded up the kingpin. He’d turned out to be a low-profile businessman whose company was a front for the ring. No mob connections, nothing international, merely a local gangster with plans to expand all along the West Coast.
He stepped aboard his houseboat, peeling off his shirt as he went. It had been a hectic day, and he could use a beer. Tossing his shirt across the railing, he headed below deck. He heard the sound the minute his foot was on the ladder. It was a strange, soft, eerie noise that made the back of his neck prickle. Jim froze. An extra burst of adrenaline flowed through him, and all his muscles tensed for action. Getting into a half crouch, he leaned cautiously down and peered into his living quarters.
Hannah was perched on the side of his bed.
“Great merciful heaven!” His mouth dropped open, and he could do nothing but stare.
She was wearing a diaphanous gown that made him think of angels. Except there was nothing angelic about Dr. Hannah Donovan. In that dress she was pure bombshell, one hundred percent vamp, and all woman.
“Hello, Jim.” She rose from the bed and stood, facing him and smiling. Backlit by the afternoon sun coming through the open portholes, she was stunningly, gloriously naked under the gauzy gown. All his dreams paled in comparison to the reality of Hannah.
“What took you so long?” When she spoke in that blues-music voice of hers, he felt as if he’d been stripped and caressed with velvet.
He clung foolishly to the top of the ladder, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing and hearing. “A little cleanup job at the newspaper.”
“How is it going now that you’re back?”
“My return to the paper set things in motion. The police rounded up the drug ring.”
Hannah drew a long breath. “It’s over, then?”
“Until something else comes along.”
Neither of them moved. Hannah still hung back beside the bed and Jim still hovered on the ladder. Both of them seemed reluctant to disturb the currents that were flowing between them.
Finally, when the silence had stretched so thin the air seemed to vibrate, Hannah spoke. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“Thank you.”
The shock of seeing her in his houseboat was beginning to wear off. But not the excitement. Never the excitement.
For the first time since he’d come below, Jim became aware of his surroundings. The weird sounds he’d heard were coming from his tape deck. He recognized them as Hannah’s whale songs.
Strung across his portholes were lace curtains. Actual, honest-to-goodness lace curtains. He felt lightheaded with joy. Slowly he descended the ladder, never taking his eyes off Hannah.
“You brought your own music, I see,”
“Yes. The song of the humpback whale. Recognize it?”
“Is that the same song that drove me from my sleeping bag?”
“No. This one is their mating song.”
“Mating song?” he leaned against the ladder, careful not to let his exultation show on his face. Hannah had come to him. He thought he knew why, but he had to be very sure. Marriage was a lifetime commitment. This time he couldn’t afford to let passion get in the way of understanding.
“Yes. Traditionally, when the whale seeks his mate, he courts her with his haunting love song.”
“Are you courting me, Hannah?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m seeking you as a mate.”
“A playmate?”
“No. A lifetime mate.”
His heart thumped so loudly,
he thought she surely could hear it, but he kept his careful distance. “Marriage?”
“Yes. If you still want me.”
He had to ram his fists into his pants pockets to keep from rushing across the room and sweeping her into his arms. There were many issues between them that had to be settled. And he realized that his first mistake had been in doing all the talking. No wonder Hannah had thought he wanted her to be his dream woman. He’d never given her a chance to say what was on her mind. He’d restrain his impatience to possess her even if the effort cost him an ulcer.
“I still want you. Hannah. Now and always.”
She heaved a great sigh. Whether it was relief or contentment or merely nervousness, he didn’t know.
“I’ve come to you. I even bought lace curtains.” She gave him a rueful grin. “I never knew those things came in so many different sizes. Do they teach courses somewhere in dealing with lace curtains?”
“Are you planning to take a few, Hannah?”
“No, Jim. These curtains are merely symbolic. I don’t plan to embrace the domestic scene.” She lifted her chin in an unconscious gesture of defiance. “If you want me, you’ll have to take me just the way I am.”
“Hannah . . .” Jim started to reach for her, then stopped himself. Ramming his hands into his pockets, he continued. “The woman I thought I wanted would probably bore me to death in two weeks time. You’re brilliant and untamed and unpredictable and exciting. And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
He came across his pipe in the depths of his pocket and drew it out. He never took his eyes off Hannah as he tamped in tobacco and lit the pipe.
“I want to marry you, Hannah, but not on my terms alone. We’ll work that out together.”
“I want it all, Jim. A career, a cottage, a cozy fire, even the lace curtains if somebody else will iron them.”
“I wield a pretty fair iron.
She started to take a step toward him, then moved back. Never taking her eyes off his, she said, “I want children.”
“Children?” Jim didn’t know this was one of the things he’d been waiting to hear her say until she said it. He hadn’t been sure she’d want a family. He’d even been prepared to give it up for her.
