by Janet Dailey
Outside, the darkness of night settled in. A light snow continued to fall while the wind howled around the tiny, one-room log cabin. The fire crackled. In the shadowy corners, rodents scurried furtively, but Jordanna was too tired to hear them.
Brig stirred and tried to shift into a more comfortable position in the hard bed. Pain splintered through his left leg jabbing him awake. His eyes opened slowly to take in his surroundings. In the flickering light, he saw ghostly walls of cloth around him and felt the hard, bare floor beneath him. His hand moved to grip his injured thigh and stop its throbbing His fingers closed on soft leg hairs and he realized he was naked. Turning his head, he looked in the direction of the light and the warmth.
He breathed in sharply at the sight of the nude form leaning against the stone fireplace. Firelight bathed the porcelain figure in pale gold. Perfection was in every line, from the shapely length of her legs to the rounded bottom and slim waist that tapered wide to a pair of creamy white shoulders. Dark copper hair gilded with scarlet cascaded in curls between her shoulder blades. His gaze traveled lazily down again, lingering on the soft, rounded curves of her bottom.
Then the figure moved, coming slowly to life, and turned toward him in languid motion. High, firm breasts had rosy peaks that thrusted upward. Slender hips invited a man to fit himself to them. Nothing sculpted could achieve the natural sensuality of this living form, Brig realized.
"Venus with arms, " he murmured, and the figure moved toward him, kneeling at his side so the firelight would illuminate her face. There were hollow shadows of weariness beneath the hazel eyes, but he recognized her and his mouth twisted into a faint smile. "Jordanna. "
"Yes, " was the soft reply. His fingertips lightly stroked his forehead. "How do you feel?"
"Tired. " Not quite of this world. She was close enough to touch. Brig placed his right hand on her ribcage and let it slide up to the underside of her breast, where his thumb could rub the erect nipple. He heard her indrawn breath. "Why are you here?"
"That's a ridiculous question. " Her voice was softly disturbed. "Where else would I be?"
"You could have left me to die. Chances are I would have in this storm. " With his left hand, he caught her wrist and pulled her down toward him. It didn't require much exertion.
"I would have, too, if you hadn't known about this place, " she reminded him as the soft mountains of her breasts laid themselves on his chest. Releasing her wrist, he slid his hand to the small of her back and caressed one of the rounded cheeks of her bottom that he had so admired. "Do you have a fever? You're talking crazy. "
"If I have a fever, you are the one who is affecting my temperature. " For the time being, Brig didn't care why Jordanna had stayed or bandaged his wound, when it would have been so much easier for her to abandon him to the killing elements and let nature finish the job her father had started. He curved a hand around her neck to force her head down so he could chew at her lower lip.
"Brig, don't, " she protested weakly. "You're hurt. "
"So? Don't fight me. "
The soft moan that came from her throat told him she wouldn't fight him very hard, if at all. "Please. I'm very, very tired and I have to keep the fire going, "
Jordanna murmured between his nibbles of her mouth but she didn't make any effort to elude them. Brig felt the lethargy of her limbs and knew she spoke the truth about her exhaustion. At the moment, he only recognized the swelling hardness of his own need.
He did acquiesce to her second argument "Put a bunch of logs on the fire. Then it will last until morning. " Unwillingly, he let Jordanna leave his arms.
Her movements were fluid and unconsciously alluring. Brig propped himself up on an elbow, testing his strength and how much interference his injury might give him. As long as Jordanna cooperated, he could manage. He felt a little shaky, but it was nothing he couldn't overcome.
When the fire was stoked with extra logs, Jordanna turned hesitantly toward him and tucked a handful of hair behind her ear. His eyes darkened as he took in the sheer loveliness of her naked body.
"Come lie with me, Jordanna. "
Her fingers entwined with those he extended to her. Slowly and uncertainly, she stretched out along his right side. Brig started to shift onto his side, but she pressed her hands against his shoulders to push him back.
"No. You might start bleeding again, " she warned anxiously.
"In that case... " Brig pulled her on top of him. "... we'll do it this way. "
"You are mad. " But she shuddered as his large hands erotically kneaded her breasts.
"Yes, it's insanity, " he agreed. It was the only explanation for this plaguing doubt that she had actually plotted to kill him. If she had, why was she here? It didn't matter. His only thought now was a powerful desire to make love to her. She had implanted this demon seed of desire within him. Now it was his turn to sow his own seeds.
As his hands glided downward to her hips, Jordanna distributed her weight over his torso. She brushed her moist lips near the corner of his mouth, her breath warm and stimulating as it mingled with his.
"Be careful, " she asked him. "I don't want you to do any more damage to yourself. "
"Then help me, " he taunted, and groaned when she did.
A chill on her backside wakened Jordanna. She was draped over Brig's sleeping form, but even while she had slept, she had avoided coming in contact with his injury. Despite the radiating heat from his body, she was conscious of a coolness. It was a second before she realized the fire must have gone out. She turned her head to see a faint red glow in the darkened ashes of the fireplace.
Quietly, she slipped out of Brig's encircling arm to rekindle the fire. With the last of the wood shavings, she started a tiny flame and shivered as she added the first small log to it Glancing at the wall of hanging clothes, she realized they were dry. She reached for her long underwear and began hurriedly pulling them on. She didn't stop until she was fully clothed and warmed by the many layers. By then, the fire was blazing cheerfully.
The woodpile had been reduced to two logs. The log frame of the cot would yield a half a dozen more. They would need more firewood. And she was thirsty, and the gnawing emptiness of her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten since yesterday noon. Taking down Brig's jacket from the makeshift clothesline, Jordanna covered him with it, then put on her hat and gloves, and picked up the iron kettle and her knife.
It had stopped snowing, but there was six inches on the ground, drifted deeper in places by the wind. The sun glared on the white expanse of winter snow and Jordanna had to shield her eyes from it after the darkness of the windowless cabin. In the light of day, she discovered it wasn't totally windowless. The windows had been boarded shut
After packing the iron kettle with snow, she left it by the door to do a little exploring and seek a private place to relieve herself. On the other side of the cabin, she found a wood box half-full of firewood. There was a deadfall of timber about twenty yards from the cabin if there was a need for more.
With that problem solved, Jordanna turned her attention to the growing hunger in her stomach. Several years ago, her father had taught her that the inner bark of pine trees, as well as other trees, was edible either raw or cooked. This emergency supply of food would provide them with some sustenance. There were probably some edible supplies of greens under the snow, but the bark was easier to obtain. With water from the melted snow, she could make a nourishing soup. Using her knife, Jordanna cut away strips from the tree and peeled off the bitter outer bark for the tender, inner fiber.
When she had her pockets stuffed full, she returned to the front of the cabin and picked up the kettle of snow. After the brilliance of the sunlight, she had difficulty adjusting to the gloomy interior of the cabin. A large form was blocking out the firelight. It took her a second to remember it was Brig
"Good morning. " She walked toward him, a warm smile accompanying her greeting.
He was half-dressed, most of his weight shifted to bear o
n his right leg. Instead of returning her smile, Brig glared at her, his features drawn in a forbidding expression. Her spirits sagged. Last night, he'd been such an ardent and demanding lover, filling her tired body with wild excitement This morning, there was hatred and contempt in his eyes. What had she done wrong, except love him?
"Where have you been?" His tone was harsh and accusing.
"Exploring. " She set the kettle of snow on the hearth near the fire. "There is a woodbox outside with more firewood and... " She took the pine strips from her pockets. "... I gathered some pine bark to make us some soup. " All the while, she tried to appear calm and controlled, showing neither hurt nor anger at his demand.
"How very resourceful of you. " An eyebrow quirked in cynical mockery.
"I thought so. " Jordanna tried to sound flippant.
"Did you signal your father, too?"
"Actually I didn't think of it or I would have. " Her answer was cool, not understanding his tone and not liking it either.
"You had the perfect opportunity and you didn't have the guts to do it, did you? Why?" His head was drawn back to an arrogant angle that both challenged and taunted. "What's the difference between a bullet and leaving me to freeze to death?"
Jordanna looked at him with a bewildered frown and shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about. " It was warm beside the fire. She took off her hat and unbuttoned her coat.
"Don't play dumb any more. I'm sick of that game, " Brig jeered.
"You were talking crazy last night, too. You must have a touch of fever. " She moved toward to feel his forehead and check his temperature.
But her hand never got within reach before it was seized in a bone-crushing grip that twisted Jordanna sideways in an attempt to ease the pressure. His face was darkened with rage.
"No more lies, Jordanna!"
"I'm not lying to you!" She flared indignantly. "Have you lost your mind?"
"Yes. I must have when I met you. " His lip curled in self-contempt. "I know what a lying bitch you were. I even knew you were plotting with your father to kill me, but I still let myself get maneuvered into position for the kill. It's sheer luck that I managed to get away with a flesh wound in my leg. "
"What?" It was a breathless word of total confusion. "How can you say such things? You must be insane, " she whispered, a little frightened of him. "I don't know who shot at us, but... "
"You lying bitch!!" With a savage, wolflike snarl, he pushed her away from him with a violence that sent her staggering backwards. "You and I both know it was your father!"
"No!"
"Who else was there? Who else had a rifle? Who else had reason to kill me?" He hurled the questions at her with vicious accusation.
"I don't know who else it could have been, but it wasn't my father!" There was angry frustration in her repeated denial. "How could you be so crazy to think he'd want to kill you? Brig what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing is wrong with me. Fletcher wants me dead because I told him I knew Max had been killed. Surely he mentioned it to you. " His expression was jeering in its mockery of her ignorance.
"Killed? That was an accident, " Jordanna protested.
"Some accident!" he scoffed and grabbed for his jacket. Out of its pocket, he took a briar. "How many horses wouldn't buck off an inexperienced rider with this under the saddle? Don't tell me you haven't seen it before?"
She stared at it, round-eyed. "I have. You said it was your good luck charm. " She lifted her gaze to his face. "Are you saying that is what caused Max's accident?"
"It wasn't an accident. It was murder. But I'm sure that, as your father's accomplice, you'll never admit it"
"No, that's not true. I don't know how those thorns got under Max's saddle, but I had nothing to do with it. And neither did my father. "
"Stop pretending, Jordanna, " he said contemptuously. "While you so thoughtfully brought my coffee to me that morning, you made sure I never made it to the horses and gave your father ample opportunity to slip this under the saddle. Which he did. "
"No. "
"I should have gotten wise when your father failed to warn Max about the snake. I didn't even suspect anything when he tricked Max into crossing that ledge without warning him about the undermined area. But my mind and my senses were all twisted up with you. That was the plan all along, wasn't it? To have me so besotted with you that I wouldn't notice what was going on? It damned near worked, too. You were such an enchanting little seductress that when we weren't in bed, I was thinking about it. Even when I overheard Fletcher give you orders to be 'nice' to me, I didn't question why. I was still fool enough to believe his story about wanting a ram. And I didn't care why you were doing it as long as I could have you any time I wanted you. "
"No! You've got it all wrong! I didn't go to bed with you because he told me to!" Bitter tears were in her eyes. "I did it because I wanted to—because I loved you! Dad had nothing to do with it! And he had nothing to do with Max's death and you can't prove that he did!"
"That's what he said. " Brig was unmoved.
"Wh-What he said?" she repeated in shock. "Do you mean... he knows you think he killed Max?"
"Why else do you think he shot at me? He doesn't want me to start talking about what I know. He nearly shut me up for good, too. Another couple of seconds and... " He left the obvious unsaid. "You almost distracted me long enough, Jordanna. "
"Liar. None of this is true! You're making this all up. Why?" she demanded, choking on a frightened sob. "Why are you doing this?"
"You know it's true. Fletcher is out there now, looking for me. He has to kill me. He can't let me get away, not after missing me once. "
"Liar! Jordanna raged. She hurled herself at him, swinging and kicking wildly, sobbing and screaming over and over, "Liar! Liar! Liar!"
The hot tears were streaming down her face, blinding her vision. Few of her hysterical blows actually hit him, but it was several minutes before Brig could capture her flailing arms and twist them behind her back. The sheer uselessness of fighting someone so much stronger than herself reduced Jordanna to a trembling mass of broken sobs.
Chapter 22
Brig held her close, absorbing her violent shudders with his body. No actress, no matter how excellent, could have worked herself into this emotional state. A frown gathered on his forehead, the lines deepening as the quaking sobs became less severe. He released her arms and stroked the tangled silk of her auburn hair. His chest was wet with her tears.
"It isn't true, " he heard her murmur brokenly.
His hand trembled as it cupped her jaw and lifted her face for his inspection. Tormented anguish was in the troubled green flecks of her hazel eyes. The doubts of her guilt that had been nagging him were suddenly confirmed and relief trembled through him, relief and a swelling gentleness.
"You didn't know, did you?"
She covered her ears with her hands to block out his voice and shut her eyes tightly, squeezing out the last tears. "I don't want to hear any more of your lies about my father. "
Brig gathered her stiff body into his arms and rubbed his chin against her hair. He felt her pain and confusion, the wrenching tear of loyalty. He realized how brutal he had been to a victim as innocent as himself, but he'd had to be sure.
"It's true, Jordanna. I'm sorry. " His voice was husky with regret. "Fletcher did not choose me by accident to guide this hunting party. He had me thoroughly investigated. He knew all about my association with Max and the Sanger Corporation, all the ill feelings that were between us. He killed Max and set me up as the fall guy if there was any evidence uncovered to prove it wasn't an accident. Unfortunately for him, I found the evidence and put two and two together, "
"But why?" she protested, lifting her puzzled face to him and impatiently wiping away the tears trickling down her cheek. "Why would he want to kill Max?"
"I don't know. That's the one thing I haven't been able to figure out. " A nerve jerked in his jaw. "Do you? What was Max to him?"
"He was... just a business acquaintance. " Jordanna lifted her shoulders in an unknowing shrug. "He'd been bugging Dad to buy some stock in the company. Dad said he'd had the company investigated and... " She stopped, her widened gaze flying in comprehension to Brig. "He had you investigated, too. Dad was the one who told me you were once a mercenary, not Max. He did know all about you. "
"Did he have any intentions of buying Max's stock?" Brig saw the fear and alarm that leapt into her eyes.
He watched her struggle to remember. "He said he might. The company was almost bankrupt, but he thought with financial backing and the right man in charge, it would be all right. Do you inherit it all, Brig?"
"Yes. Did he tell you that, too?"
"Yes. " Jordanna lowered her head, looking away from him. "Dad wouldn't kill Max. He had no reason. "
"Why did he invite Max along?"
"He didn't. You did. " She paused, doubt flashing in her eyes. "Didn't you? He told us you did. "
"I didn't invite Max. "
"But how could that be?" Her head moved in bewildered denial. "Dad said you invited Max, and there wasn't anything he could do about it You two were cousins and it was a long time since you'd been together. Besides which, Max wanted to sell him that stock. "
"I was there when your father initially made the suggestion that Max should come on a hunting trip with him. Later, he specifically suggested this trip. Max jumped at the chance, but certainly not because of me, " Brig insisted dryly. "In fact, I'm sure he wished I was on the other side of the world. "
"But it doesn't make sense, " she argued, stiffening in his arms. "Why would Dad lie about the invitation? Why would he say you invited him if you didn't?"
