by Janet Dailey
Later, during the drive to the taconite plant, her father commented, "Rolt is really making a success out of this operation. You can be very proud of him, Alanna,"
"I am," she smiled briefly.
"Before your wedding, he hinted that there might be an increase in my stock earnings. It turned out to be quite a substantial one," he informed her. "He's quite a businessman, Rolt is."
"Yes, he's very clever." Silently Alanna realized that he had kept his word about helping her father.
She also noted that the lines of strain and tension had disappeared from around her father's mouth and eyes. The burden must have been heavy for its removal to make such a difference.
When they stopped at the entrance gate, the security guard smiled broadly in recognition. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Matthews, Mr. Powell." And they were waved on through.
Her father dropped her off at the door near where the black Mark V was parked, insisted that he couldn't come in with her if he wanted time for a leisurely meal before his meeting, and left.
Many of the office staff recognized Alanna when she entered the building. She hadn't been to Rolt's office since that night he had coerced her into marrying him. The curious glances and occasional smiles of greeting from the staff made her wonder if they were remembering the numerous times she had dated Kurt before suddenly marrying Rolt. She felt uncomfortable and defensive.
Rolt was in the outer office talking to a man in a dark suit when she walked in. The disturbing warmth of his gaze melted away the chill of apprehension that had hurried her through the halls. She moved eagerly toward him, ignoring the upturned face of his secretary.
"You wouldn't believe what's happened," Alanna smiled.
She would have stopped in front of him, but his arm encircled her waist and drew her against him to receive his kiss. Her lips automatically responded, bringing, a dark glow to his eyes that she found difficult to sustain when he raised his head.
Turning to the bemused man watching their greeting, Rolt said, "My wife, Alanna. Tom Brooks, with the shipping firm out of Duluth."
There was a self-conscious flood of color to her cheeks, brought on more by her unrestrained response than by the fact that it had been witnessed.
The man smiled briefly at Rolt. "I had heard you had left the folds of bachelorhood. I was hoping this was your new bride you were kissing." He turned to Alanna. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Matthews."
"Thank you." She shook his hand, Rolt's arm slackening its hold around her waist only slightly.
"Now what brought you, here?" Rolt prompted. "You said something had happened." For a blank instant, Alanna met his gaze. "Have you forgotten?" he chided mockingly.
"No," she breathed a shaky laugh. "My car broke down—something to do with a switch of some sort. It won't be fixed until the morning so I'm here to catch a lift home."
"I think that can be arranged." Then he frowned, a brow arching. "How did you get here?"
"Daddy brought me. I stopped by to see them today and the car wouldn't start when I went out to go home," she explained.
"I have a to go over a few things with Tom first." He glanced at his secretary over the top of Alanna's head. "There is nothing else after that, is there, Mrs. Blake?"
"No, sir."
"As soon as Tom and I are finished, we can leave," Rolt said.
"I promise I won't keep him long, Mrs. Matthews," the man smiled.
Alanna glanced around the room, the vague feelings of discomfort returning at the thought of waiting in the office until Rolt was free to leave. She didn't want to be the recipient of any more speculating looks from the staff. Sitting in the office would be like being on display.
"I think I'll wait in the car, if that's all right," she told Rolt.
"Of course." He removed his arm from around her waist and reached into his pocket. "It's locked. You'll need the keys."
Taking them, Alanna smiled politely at the other man. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Brooks." With a quick, faintly uncertain smile at Rolt, she walked from the room into the hall.
As she moved down the corridor, a familiar figure approached from the opposite direction. It was Kurt, but the ready smile was in absence and the easy charm wasn't sparkling in his eyes. He seemed so much different from the man she had once loved that he seemed a stranger.
Alanna's steps faltered as she realized she had referred to her love in the past tense. She hadn't seen Kurt since that night he had found her with Rolt. Suddenly he seemed the answer to her problem. If she could talk to him and explain what had happened, maybe she would be able to rekindle her feelings for him and thus provide herself with an immunity to the emotions Rolt was arousing in her.
"Hello, Kurt," she greeted him quietly when he was nearly level with her.
He nodded briskly without speaking, his expression masked, his shoulders stiff. He would have walked on by, but Alanna stopped, partially blocking his path.
"Please don't walk away," she begged.
He halted, his abrupt manner indicating he was anxious to be on his way and didn't welcome her interruption.
"I can't think of anything we have to say to each other," Kurt responded coldly.
"There's a great deal to say if you would only listen," Alanna argued pleadingly, keeping her voice low. "You never gave me a chance to explain my side of what happened."
"I don't see what there is to explain. It's all fairly obvious." His gaze was as bleak as an arctic sky.
"Things aren't the way they appear on the surface."
"Aren't they?" he mocked. "You did marry my brother."
"Do you know why?" Alanna gazed at him, silently pleading for him to give her the benefit of doubt. "The real reason?"
"Alanna," he sighed in irritation, "what would be the point? What would it change?"
"I hope it would change the way you think of me," she answered honestly. "It hurts to have you thinking I'm some kind of tramp."
Kurt turned his head away, staring at the blank corridor wall "Okay, so you want to talk, explain whatever it is. Go ahead, I'm listening."
"Not here." Alanna glanced around, conscious of the people in the offices along the hall. "It's too public. Besides, Rolt will be coming shortly."
"You want to meet me somewhere, is that it?" he inquired with a faintly mocking smile.
"To talk, yes," Alanna qualified. "I'll meet you for lunch tomorrow at twelve-thirty."
Alanna didn't want to be seen with Kurt at a public restaurant. The word of her meeting would spread too quickly back to Rolt.
"Could we meet at the Iron Range Interpretative Center?" she asked.
"You don't want Rolt finding out, is that it?"
"Yes," she admitted.
He shook his head as if questioning the wisdom of what he was agreeing to. "I'll meet you there tomorrow." Without another word, he walked past her.
THE SKY WAS OVERCAST, a gloomy pearl gray with darker, threatening clouds on the horizon. The whispering wind carried the warning of an approaching storm, chilling the temperature.
Alanna buried her hands deeper in the pockets of her yellow windbreaker and watched Kurt's car drive into the Center's parking lot. Behind her was the striking concrete and glass building of the Iron Range Interpretative Center.
The site, atop the crest of the old Glenn Iron Mine, held a commanding view of the inactive, open-pit mine with its man-made gorges and canyons. Nature trails wound around the base of the modern building.
When Kurt got out of his car and walked to meet her, Alanna turned to stare at the impressive structure.
It didn't seem to matter that her marriage to Rolt was not one born out of love. The sting of guilt was still there to make her feel uncomfortable about meeting Kurt.
She chided herself for being so rigidly moralistic. She was nervous, though, when Kurt stopped beside her,
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Her angle of view provided a glimpse of the bridge jutting out over the mine. "Have you been inside?"
"
No."
"Neither have I recently. Not all the exhibits were there when I went through it. It's complete now, though, I understand. But what I saw was fascinating." Remembering the flag exhibit in a mirrored room, Alanna thought about the people who had immigrated to Minnesota from all over the world. "It doesn't deal with just the discovery of iron and its mining and development. It tells you about the people, too, their life, working the mines, in the summer and in the logging camps in the winter." She was talking rapidly, avoiding the issue that had brought them here.
"The people were mainly immigrants from Rumania, Yugoslavia, Germany, Norway, Sweden, England, Ireland, and many other countries. It was a melting pot of cultures, religions and languages. There's a film that tells some of the reasons why they came to America and their first impressions. Most of them couldn't speak English and were unaccustomed to the extremes of the Minnesota climate. Homesick—"
"Alanna," Kurt broke in impatiently, "it's all very interesting, I'm sure, but that isn't why I'm here."
"I know." She sighed reluctantly, turning to face him, then lowering her chin to stare at the ground. "I don't know where to begin."
"Try at the beginning," he suggested dryly. "Why did you marry Rolt if it wasn't for love or money?"
"Because I hated him." Again the usage of past tense gave her a momentary qualm. Before Kurt could make a remark, she hurried on. "I know Rolt gave you the impression that I'd been seeing him while I was going with you, but it wasn't true. He came over to the house once on a Sunday afternoon and that was the only time I saw him except when I was with you. There was disbelief in his gaze and it made Alanna impatient. "I was with you practically every night. I didn't have time to meet Rolt—unless you think I slipped out to meet him after you'd brought me home."
"All right." Kurt conceded the possibility she was telling the truth. "If you hadn't been seeing him, why did you go to his office that night?"
"Because he said he knew something about my parents."
"Your parents?" Her answer startled him.
Alanna breathed in deeply and began to explain about the financial problems her father had incurred, concluding with, "Rolt said he would help dad without him ever learning about it if I would marry him."
A spatter of raindrops fell. Kurt took hold of her arm. "We're going to get wet standing out here. Let's go to my car." With shoulders hunched against the scatter of fat drops Alanna hurried toward Kurt's car. Neither spoke as Kurt opened the passenger door for her and walked around to the driver's side. Rain pattered on the roof, the only sound for several seconds once they were inside.
"How do you explain that love scene I walked in on?" Kurt asked finally, sliding her a challenging look. "You weren't by any stretch of the imagination resisting him."
"No, I wasn't." Alanna stared at the twisting hands in her lap. "I haven't any excuse for that, except that your brother is very experienced at physically arousing a woman. It was an exercise to prove I wouldn't find his lovemaking unpleasant."
"Obviously you don't," Kurt muttered thickly, gazing straight ahead.
"I—I don't know." She shook her head, feeling the piercing swiftness of his gaze turning to her.
"Come on, now, Alanna," he growled beneath his breath. "You've surely had enough time to make up your mind by now."
She hesitated, pressing her lips together.
"There was a wedding, Kurt, but it isn't really a marriage."
"What are you trying to say?" He looked at her skeptically.
"We have separate rooms," Alanna murmured, lifting her chin with a trace of defiance as she flushed self-consciously.
"Rolt? My brother? He agreed to this?" Kurt frowned incredulously.
"He's waiting for me to come to him." She hooked a curl behind her ear.
"So far you haven't," he said, yet managing to put a question mark at the end.
"How could I—" The rest of the sentence remained in her throat. It should have finished with "—when I love you," but Alanna couldn't get the words out.
Her gaze desperately sought Kurt's face, trying to find the attraction she had once felt. Now it was the faint resemblance to Rolt that stirred her senses. She looked quickly away, blinking at the tears burning her eyes.
Kurt's hand touched her shoulder, gripping it gently to turn her toward him. He leaned forward, his mouth descending on hers. The burning ardor of his kiss ignited only a gentle flame of emotion, not the powerful passion that Rolt's kisses sparked. Her lashes remained lowered when Kurt set her away, hiding her disappointment and wishing she hadn't kept this meeting with Kurt. It wasn't fair of her to hurt him more.
"It isn't there, is it?" he said quietly. "What we once had," he added.
Alanna shook her head, keeping her chin lowered, as she acknowledged that he was right. She heard the regret in his voice and shared it.
"To be honest, Alanna," Kurt continued quietly, "that last week I thought something was missing. I had the feeling you were withdrawing from me each time I held you in my arms. That's why I was so ready to believe that you had been seeing Rolt on the side. It was easier somehow to think of losing you to him than just losing you because you didn't love me. It doesn't make sense, I know, but—that's the way I felt."
"I'm sorry, Kurt," she murmured. "I wanted to love you. I really thought I did."
And it would have made it so much easier to protect herself from falling in love with Rolt. Seeing Kurt had opened her eyes to the truth. She already was in love with Rolt.
"We've both had quite a few things cleared up today. We understand ourselves and each other better." He sighed as if he wasn't certain that was good.
"No hard feelings, Kurt?" She tipped her head to one side, her gaze sad and wistful.
"No." He smiled grimly. "I'm still sorry I lost you, but I'm not bitter any more. Eventually the hurt will leave, too."
There wasn't much left to say, and both of them knew it. Alanna reached for the door handle and released the latch. She smiled weakly over her shoulder at Kurt.
"Take care," she said in goodbye.
"You, too." But there was a tightness in his expression that said he still loved her, regardless of her change of feelings.
By the time Alanna had driven back to the house by the lake, the intermittent rain had stopped, but the sky remained threatening. The meeting with Kurt had left her feeling dispirited and restless, confused by a problem she didn't know how to solve. Loving Rolt should have made things simpler; instead they seemed complicated.
She wandered through the house, listening to the thunder rolling closer. Lightning flashed in crackling arcs and tongues. Dinner was in the oven when the wind came, whipping and bending the conical tops of the pines. The rain came with a rush, blinding sheets hammering at the windows. The fury of the storm grew steadily.
The table was set and dinner was warming in the oven, but Rolt wasn't home. At first Alanna didn't let herself become concerned. The storm had probably held him up. The roads would be slick and the visibility poor.
When one hour stretched into two hours late, panic set in. Alanna dialed the number of his private line at the office, but there was no answer. She called the entrance gate, only to have the security guard on duty tell her that Rolt had left the plant almost two hours ago. She began imagining problems as trivial as a flat tire and soon progressed into accidents with Rolt lying injured in some ditch along the way.
When she picked up the telephone the third time to call the police, the line was dead, knocked out by the storm. Raking her fingers through her tawny hair, Alanna glanced at the rain-coated windows. A jab of lightning exploded somewhere close by and thunder shook the glass.
The front door burst open, and Alanna pivoted. Her first thought was that the howling wind had blown it open. A rush of moist, turbulent air swept into the living room, cooling her cheeks. A molten-silver flash of lightning illuminated the night, lingering for several seconds.
Outlined in the doorway was the dark silhouette of a man. Dar
k hair was wind-tossed in rumpled waves. His stance, feet slightly apart, was intimidating. Rain glistened on the wooden planks outside the threshold. In that charged and lightning brilliant instant, the man didn't seem real—a mythical being, a giant.
The giant moved, and the breath that had been caught in Alanna's throat was released in a joyous sigh. She raced to the doorway as Rolt stepped in, dripping rain, his expensive suit plastered against his muscular frame. His sun-bronzed features gleamed wetly, lashes dark and spiky from the water.
"Rolt! Where have you been?" She ran into his arms.
Her relief at seeing him safe and apparently unharmed was too great to be held in. She buried her face in the wet lapel of his jacket as he pushed the door closed, shutting out the wind-whipped rain. She could hear the solid, steady beat of his heart.
"What took you so long?" she breathed.
"There was a tree across the road, and I had to walk," Rolt answered, his breath warm against her hair although his voice was oddly aloof.
Alanna became aware of the way she was clinging him. The wetness of his clothes was beginning to be absorbed by hers. Her hands slid from his shoulders to the hardness of his chest as she levered herself away. Thunder rumbled threateningly and she shivered at the violence of the storm he had walked through.
"Afraid of storms?" Indigo eyes watched her.
"Not usually," she laughed nervously. "But I was worried about you. I called the plant and the guard said you'd left two hours ago."
"Yes, I did. I'm sorry you were worried."
"Yes, well, it couldn't be helped." His hands were resting lightly on her hips. Alanna edged a few more inches from his chest, nerves jumping, "Dinner is ruined, I'm afraid, but it's probably just as well. As soaked as you are, the best thing would be some hot soup. And a dry change of clothes."
When she would have moved away, his hands tightened on her hips. "Were you really worried, Alanna?" The hard brilliance of his eyes searched her face.
"Of course I was." A finely strung tension gripped her. She felt suddenly defensive. "I'm not some unfeeling monster, Rolt."
"But you think I am," he said in a quiet accusation.
