The scent of him was clean and manly. The stubble of his beard scratchy against her face. She heard him mutter something about too many clothes as he shrugged out of his robe and the bottom of his pajamas. She did likewise, her gaze never leaving his face.
Birch felt his hands tremble as he touched the satiny skin of her shoulders and breasts. In the whole of his life he’d never experienced such intense feelings. He could feel himself feeding on the sight of her. The urge to paw the ground, to bellow like a bull was so strong he grabbed her to him, crushing her against him.
Libby felt her breath quicken as her pulses began to pound. She gently withdrew and rolled to the side, lifting herself into his arms, fitting each curve against his body, pressing him close to her. She drew in her breath when she felt his hardness. Her hands were as feverish as his as she once again rolled over, her grasp on his waist secure. “Love me,” she whispered.
Caught up in her passion, Birch found himself matching his own responses with hers as he sought to fill her needs, which were echoed in him. He wanted all of her, all at once. He caressed her hips, her leg, her flat belly knowing she was opening herself to him.
Libby rotated her hips against him with urgent, searching motions. She felt the hardness of him jolt against her thigh, and then her world exploded as he entered her. She threw back her head, lost in the tide and ebb of sensations she knew she would remember for all her days. Suddenly she cried out his name as she climaxed beneath his touch.
Drenched with each other’s sweat, they rolled over together, their slick bodies glued to one another, wonderment registering in both their eyes.
“I want to fall asleep like this and know when I wake you’ll be in my arms,” Birch whispered against her damp cheek. She nodded, her eyes already closed, but not in sleep. She held her tears in check until she was certain he was sleeping.
Libby moved slightly, her head against the pillow as she stared at the man who had just made her come alive. How was she going to walk away from him? How could something that felt so wonderful be wrong? How vulnerable he looked in sleep. She wanted to move closer, to smother his face with kisses, but was afraid he’d wake.
In spite of herself, she leaned over and kissed him until his eyes opened. “Now,” she whispered, “I want to make love to you.”
“I’m waiting,” he whispered.
When the room grew light and the fire was almost out, they looked at one another, their faces alight with love. “I’ll wash your back if you wash mine,” Birch grinned.
“Just my back?” Libby teased.
Birch pretended horror. “That’s where I’m going to start. Where I finish, will be anyone’s guess. One bar of soap or two?”
“I want my own. I’m going to lather you from top to bottom and save the middle for last. Is that okay with you?”
“Absolutely.”
A long time later, Libby said, “It’s quarter to eight. Should we head for the dining room or should we knock on Sunny’s door?”
“I say we let them sleep. We can’t go out. There isn’t much to do in the lodge except eat, look at the fire, or watch an old movie.”
“I rather thought they’d be up by now. Harry was so excited about the snow, I kind of thought he’d be up staring out at the white stuff. One knock. If they don’t respond, we’ll go downstairs. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Precisely at eight o’clock, Birch and Libby closed the door of Birch’s room. They walked the short distance down the hall to Sunny and Harry’s room.
“The door’s open, Birch. They must have gotten up early and are in the dining room waiting for us. The bed’s made and the fire is out. They both need to be warm. I wonder if they slept in their clothes. They even made the bed. They do that, you know. Harry does one side, and Sunny does the other. Usually, though, it’s not this neat. It looks to me like the fire’s been out for a long time. There aren’t any red embers.”
“Here’s a note,” Birch said as he snapped on the light.
“What’s it say?” Libby asked, craning her neck to read the note over Birch’s shoulder.
“Jesus Christ! They went snowmobiling at two o’clock this morning. They never went to bed, and they weren’t here to keep the fire up. Six hours!”
“Don’t panic. They might be in the dining room or the great room, where it’s warm.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do,” Birch shouted as he raced down the hall. He was aware immediately of the silence, the emptiness, of the smell of perking coffee and cinnamon.
Sunny and Harry were nowhere in sight.
The storm outside was still raging when Birch ran to the heavy front doors. He pulled them open, gale-force winds driving him backward. He was covered in snow in a matter of seconds.
“They must be here somewhere. They wouldn’t go out in this storm,” Libby said, her face ashen. “Sunny would never do something so foolhardy. Harry wouldn’t either.”
“Trust me. They’re out there. They probably figured the barn where the snowmobiles are kept is just around the corner, and they could make it there in their chairs. Their wheelchairs are gone. They’re out there, Libby. Get dressed. We have to look for them. Better yet, you bring my stuff while I talk to that night manager and have her call the rangers.”
The manager’s face drained of all color when Birch told her what he suspected. “You have to raise the rangers. We’re going out, but I’d like to know someone is looking out for us. You know, backup.”
“Mr. Thornton, I don’t think your sister would be foolish enough to go out in this storm in a wheelchair. I don’t think you should attempt anything until I speak with the ranger station.”
“If you were the one out there in a wheelchair, would you want me to wait for a ranger?”
“Well, no, but . . .”
“There are no buts. They left at two o’clock. It’s eight now. That’s six hours. Anything could have happened to them in six hours.”
The manager’s face got whiter at the thought of the liability involved. She tried the ranger station again, with no results. The look on her face went from helpless to hopeless.
“How long does a tank of gas last in a snowmobile?”
“About an hour and a half if it’s full. Speed has something to do with it. Clarence didn’t fill the tanks yesterday because he wanted to catch the shuttle down the mountain. He has a family, and he wanted to be with them. I told him it was all right to leave. Some of the tanks were nearly empty. Clarence gave me the work sheets before he left. Only six of the machines had a full tank.”
“Is there any place they could take shelter if they ran out of gas?”
“There are what we call two line shacks, where we keep emergency supplies for the ski patrol. I can show you on the map. It’s unlikely they made it that far. There wasn’t enough gas in their tanks. There is a possibility your sister and her friend are still in the barn. If they had the presence of mind to check the gas tank. Clarence always puts a yellow magnet on the tank when he fills it up. I have no way of knowing if your sister realized the meaning of the magnet. Their wheelchairs were kept in the barn when they took out the machines yesterday. Clarence might have explained the way it works, but I can’t be sure. Start there, Mr. Thornton. I’ll keep trying the rangers. Stay close to the building, and you’ll be able to see the barn. I’m sure that’s the way they went. The walkway was cleared by the snowblower around dinnertime last night. Good luck.”
Libby was muttering to herself as she pulled on her fur-lined boots.
“This is not our fault. Making love has nothing to do with this, Libby, so don’t start blaming yourself. Even if you had stayed in your room and I stayed in mine, we would just now be meeting up down here. Neither one of us would have checked on Sunny during the night. Don’t go packing any bags for a guilt trip. Okay, are you ready?”
“I’m ready. What do you feel, Birch? Tell me the truth?”
“I don’t feel anything,” Birch said grimly. “
Stay right behind me.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Libby said. She adjusted her snow goggles.
The wind howled and shrieked as the snow battered them. For every three steps they took forward, the wind drove them back two steps.
Heads bent, they trudged forward. What would normally have been a five-minute walk to the barn took them forty minutes just to the place where Birch fell over Harry’s wheelchair. Libby fell against him, sliding forward to land against Sunny’s chair. She started to paw through the snow, shrieking and crying that Sunny and Harry were buried in the snow.
“No, they’re not here. Look, Libby, neither Harry nor Sunny is stupid. The barn is right there. They would have seen it outlined in the snow. We need to think like them right now. Going back to the lodge would have taken them too long. I think they opted for the barn and either crawled or belly-whopped. Maybe they used their rear ends to bounce along. They’re not here. I know they’re not,” Birch shouted to be heard above the wind.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the barn. “The door’s open. I was right. They made it this far. Can you make it, Libby?”
“I can make it. My question is, how in the name of God did they do it? We have legs and feet and right now I can’t feel mine at all.”
“I don’t know.”
“Sunny! Harry! Are you in here?” Birch and Libby shouted over and over, their voices echoing in the cavernous barn.
“Look. They managed to light one of the lamps. That took some doing on their part. It shows they were thinking and had their wits about them. Shine your light around, Libby, so I can find the oil to replenish the lantern. Ah, here it is.”
“Two of the snowmobiles are gone from the track!” Libby cried, her voice full of anguish.
Birch could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He had to do something. “I say we gas up these machines and begin our search. There’s a lot of emergency gear in here. Let’s hope they had enough sense to take some of it with them. My gut says they did because things are less than tidy on the shelves. The messiness tells me they were grappling for things that were higher up because everything else is incredibly neat and precision-aligned.”
“God, I hope you’re right, Birch.”
“I know I’m right,” Birch said with more confidence than he felt. He put his arm around Libby’s shoulder and pulled her to him. “One more time, Libby, this is not your fault, and it isn’t my fault. I’m going to light the rest of the lamps. Hopefully, if they aren’t too far away and the snow lets up from time to time, they might see a flicker of light. We don’t have anything to lose by lighting them.”
“I agree. The snowmobiles don’t need gas. The magnets are on the tanks. Harry and Sunny were the only ones using the machines. These six are gassed and ready to go.”
“Shit!” The single word exploded from Birch’s mouth. “You’d think a place as modern and sophisticated as this would have a horseshoe track that would bring the used machine to the rear instead of back to the starting point.”
“We need to think like Sunny and Harry. I’ll be Sunny and you take Harry’s part. Which way would they go? Which one would take the lead? Sunny was talking about the Molly Stark Trail yesterday. She was reading one of the brochures. I remember her commenting on the landing strip and the fact that the trail was only a mile and a half from the lodge. She said if a skier got lost, they just had to find the trail and they could make it back here. She wasn’t speaking to me directly but to Harry. She probably said more but I didn’t hear it.”
“We’ll strike out in the direction of the trail. This map they have on the wall is clearly marked. With only one lantern it’s doubtful either Sunny or Harry saw it. I almost missed it myself. I’ll take the lead. Stay close behind me.”
“Birch, they could have gone in a hundred different directions.”
“I know, Libby. We’ll do our best. My gut tells me they didn’t get too far with the small amount of gas they had in the machines.”
“Several miles at least, Birch. If their machines died on them, it’s anybody’s guess what they did.”
“No negative thoughts, Libby. Are you ready?”
Libby adjusted her goggles. She nodded.
Not bothering to look for the mechanism that operated the tract, Birch pushed his machine off the track out into the snow. He started the engine before he went back to the barn to push Libby’s machine outside. The last thing he did was to close and latch the monster double doors.
His heart thumped and thudded in his chest the way it had when he was little and watching a horror movie on television. Back then he had Sage to cling to. He wondered at that moment what his brother was doing. Probably riding down the mountain in the late-fall sunshine. Iris would have cooked what she called a he-man breakfast for him. She would have kissed him good-bye at the door and waved until his car was out of sight. Sage would be clean-shaven, dressed in his white shirt, tie, and business suit, listening to a Bob Marley tape on the ride down the mountain. Sage always was a lucky son of a bitch. He wished his brother was riding the snowmobile behind him instead of Libby. Right now Libby was too emotional. What he needed now was Sage’s cool, level head.
Some things were just not meant to be.
15
Fanny sat in her parked car in the underground casino parking lot, smoking. Time this morning seemed ominous somehow. She felt disoriented, unsure of what she should do next. Being with Billie and listening to her problems had drained her, leaving her feeling listless and somehow angry. She wished for coffee, for a comforting friend, someone to tell her it was okay to break and enter and steal her dead husband’s aviator wings. She should be home listening for the phone to ring. What if something happened to Sage while she was doing Ash’s nefarious bidding? If she were at the hospital, she could turn the television in the waiting room to the weather channel. “And what good will that do me if the phone rings in my house?” she muttered. She fired up another cigarette. One of these days she had to quit smoking and cut down on her coffee intake.
Fanny leaned her head back against the headrest of the driver’s seat. Billie a gambler. How was she ever going to come to terms with that?
“I kept telling you you were losing your edge. Now, do you believe me?”
“I can’t believe you’re here again, Ash. Is your afterlife’s work following me? Why can’t you leave me in peace? I’m not in the mood for your snide comments today.”
“Get out of this garage. Do you have any idea how many weird people hang out in places like this? Why do I have to do all your thinking, Fanny? Let’s get with the program here.”
“I’m here to get your wings back, Ash. I’m going to break and enter and steal them just the way you want. I should be at the hospital. I should be with Billie. Instead I’m sitting here in a parked car trying to figure out a way to break into my own apartment and all because I’m listening to a dead man give me orders. Go away, Ash.”
“I’m tired, Fanny. Those kids of ours have given me a run for my money. How the hell did you do it all those years when I wasn’t there to help you?”
“It was hard, Ash. Some days I didn’t think I’d make it. It all worked out but it did take its toll. I don’t regret one minute of my life. That’s not quite true. Some days I do. Do you know about Billie?”
“Of course I know about Billie. She learned a hard lesson, Fanny. I preached till I was blue in the face. Where was she while I was doing that?”
“Probably hiding while she tried to figure out why you could never remember her name. How could you forget your own daughter’s name? That was unforgivable.”
“Yes, it was. I can’t change the past.”
“You were a shit, Ash,” Fanny said vehemently.
“Yes, I was.”
“I like it better when you argue with me. It’s easier to hate your guts that way.”
“Where you’re concerned, Fanny, hate is just a word. It isn’t in you to hate anyone. That’s a commendable trait. Bi
llie’s going to be fine. Trust me on that one.”
“That one? Does that mean the others are in trouble? Earlier you said you had to help the kids. Ash, don’t do this to me. Are they okay? Should I go home to listen for the phone? I don’t think I could bear it if something happened to them. Are you watching over them? Ah, what can you do, you’re dead!”
“I didn’t say I could do anything. I said they needed me. Like you need me. When the day comes, and it will come, Fanny, when you no longer need me, I’ll be gone forever.”
“I don’t want that, Ash. I feel closer to you now than I did when you were alive. I wonder if I’m losing my mind. Maybe I’m having a nervous breakdown. All I want to do is cry. That’s a sign of depression. Maybe I already lost my mind and I’m too stupid to know it. You used to call me stupid a lot, Ash.”
“That’s because I was jealous of you. The kids are in trouble. If they remember the things I tried to teach them, they’ll be okay. They have more of you than me in them. Right now I don’t know if that’s good or bad. They aren’t kids anymore.”
“If they need you why are you here? I can do what I have to do by myself. I don’t need you here pep-talking me.”
“All you have to do is cut me loose, Fanny.”
“I can’t do that. Why can’t I do that, Ash?”
“We’ll talk about that later. Get those wings back, Fanny.”
Fanny’s voice was honey-sweet when she said, “Ash?”
“Yeah.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Ah, if I could, I would. Move!”
“I hate your guts!”
“You keep saying that. Is it okay to leave?”
“Go and don’t come back,” Fanny shouted.
“Okay.”
“Will you look after the kids, Ash?”
“Fanny, Fanny, Fanny. What do you think?”
“I love you, Ash.”
“I know. I love you, too, Fanny.”
“Do you really, Ash? Truly?”
Fanny looked around as she waited for Ash’s response. She sighed deeply. “Life goes on, Ash. A person can’t live on memories. Thanks for . . . whatever.” She waited a moment to see if there would be a response. There wasn’t. She sighed again as she climbed out of the car.
Vegas Sunrise Page 31
