She gasped a breath and found he’d become a part of it. Her fingers curled in the shoulders of his life vest as she opened her mouth and drank him in. She forgot her anger and humiliation as completely as the river forgets its rapids once past them. His mouth meshed with hers, his body solid beneath her hands—they felt so familiar to her, had been so achingly missed for so long. She felt like an exile finally allowed to come home.
And it was over too quickly. He released her mouth so suddenly her eyes smarted with tears and her lips felt bruised, cold and bereft.
“We’re here, babe—we made it.” His voice was a hoarse and ragged whisper. He gave her head an intense little shake, then let go of her hair and picked up his paddle.
She heard it then: yelling and cheering coming from far off. She lifted her head and through a haze of tears saw the bridge up above, and a line of fire crew vehicles parked all along the road, and the Penny Tours bus was there, too. And up ahead, at the take-out spot, Booker T and half a dozen of her guides and crew—even Tahoe, sporting an arm sling—were waving and cheering, waiting to bring them in.
Sam had her paddle in the air and kept yelling, “My God, we made it, Pearse. I can’t believe we made it.” And Cory was grinning, too, not seeming to mind, now, being injured and in pain.
Aware that Matt was watching her, Alex encompassed them all with the best congratulatory smile she could muster, and concentrated on breathing through the dull ache that had crept in to fill her throat, her chest, her stomach, her whole inside. “Hey, guys, you did it—you ran the Forks of the Kern! Great job!”
And inside her mind was wailing, It’s over. It’s over. It’s over.
The bus was winding cautiously down the mountain road—slower going than usual because of the stream of firefighting vehicles clogging up the road in both directions—when Alex left her customary seat up in front and made her way to the back of the bus, where Matt sat in his chair, locked in place on the lift.
He grinned when he saw her. “Hey—I was wondering when somebody was gonna come back and keep me company.” And his tone was the husky, low-in-the-throat one he used for seduction, the one that once had made pulses start up in all the feminine response outposts in her body.
She gave him a look that warned him she was onto him and in no mood to be wooed. She took the seat nearest the chairlift and said bluntly, “Matthew, we need to talk.”
His eyes darkened and his smile slipped sideways. “Yeah, we do.”
She made an impatient motion with her hand. “Not…that. Not about us.” Then she closed her eyes. “Okay, we do, but not now. That’s not what I meant.” She opened her eyes and let out a breath. “Doesn’t it strike you as strange that so many bad things happened on this run? I mean, we’ve had accidents before, but jeez—it seems like everything that could happen did. So, I’m wondering…why right now?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking.” But he was looking at her intently, not smiling at all now. “What are you thinking? Thought we agreed the notion that somebody sabotaged—that’s just crazy, Alex.”
She looked away, waited a moment, then brought her eyes back to him. “I didn’t tell you before, but Dave told me the fire was set.”
“What—you mean, on purpose?”
“They’re pretty sure. Think about it—why on earth would anybody set a fire up here? In just the right place for it to spread up the river canyon, where we just happen to be?” She shook her head and looked away again. “I don’t know what to think. But what can I think?” She paused and lowered her voice to a murmur. “How much do you know about your brother? Or Sam? Maybe somebody has something—”
Matt was making frantic gestures to shut up, so she wasn’t all that surprised when Sam spoke from close behind her.
“It’s okay, Matt,” she said as she took the seat across from Alex. “Cory and I have been talking about it, too, actually. Too many things going wrong, it stops being coincidence and becomes…”
“Enemy action,” Cory finished in a croaking voice as he eased carefully into the next seat down. He grinned wryly. “That’s James Bond—from a book, not a movie. So,” he said after a pause, “the question is, which one of us has an enemy who might have taken action?”
They all looked at each other, then shrugged, one by one, and shook their heads. Matt rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, “Hell, I’m just a schoolteacher, man.”
Sam looked at Cory and said softly, “I told you, Pearse. It’s not me, I swear.”
He let out a breath that sounded oddly relieved. “Right.”
“Alex?” Matt was looking at her—they all were.
She reared back, holding up her hands. “Come on, guys.”
“If it was sabotage,” he said quietly, “it would almost have to be somebody with access to the equipment. Wouldn’t it?”
“One of my—” She broke off to stare at him, cold in the pit of her stomach. Then shook her head. “No. No way. We’re like a family. Nobody would do such a thing. Not to me, not to the company.”
Matt shrugged.
Cory nodded.
“So,” Sam said in her down-to-earth way, “coincidence it must be.”
Matt was sitting in his van in the Penny Tours equipment yard. He had the motor running and the air-conditioning on, and he was waiting for Alex to finish up inside so he could catch her on the way to her car. His brother and Sam were in Booker T’s king cab pickup truck on their way to the hospital on the other side of the lake. Matt was supposed to go back to the motel and wait for them, but he had no intention of doing so, not without talking to Alex first.
He watched people come and go through the yard, some with finished tours coming in and unloading, others prepping and loading up for future runs. Sometimes they waved at him, and he’d smile and wave back, but his mind was chewing over the problem of how he was going to convince Alex to come away with him for a while. He couldn’t very well invite her to lunch or dinner, since it was the middle of the afternoon and they were both still stuffed to the gills with the burgers they’d stopped for on the way through town. He didn’t know if she’d be willing to come with him, just to talk, but he felt in his gut that if he could just get her to someplace where they could talk in private…maybe do more than talk…everything would be all right.
He didn’t know how, but…since the alternative wasn’t acceptable, it had to be all right.
He’d waited long enough. He was beginning to consider getting back in his chair and going into the building to look for her, when he saw her coming through the open warehouse door. The blond guide was with her—Eve, that was her name—and watching the two women walk out into the sunshine, Matt had the weirdest feeling. It was a jolt of gut-level animosity that, if it had been a guy walking beside Alex, he’d have had to say it was jealousy.
He dismissed it with a wry snort and a shake of his head, reminding himself he and Eve never had gotten along, even back before his accident. He’d pretty much tolerated the woman because she was a friend of Alex’s, but he never had understood what Alex saw in her. As far as he was concerned, the woman was a real pain in the ass, always getting her feelings hurt about something or other—usually nothing important. Matter of fact, he was kind of surprised to see she was still around. In his experience, people like her were always moving on, figuring all their problems would be solved if they were somewhere else.
But who gave a damn, anyway? All he cared about was Alex. Watching her emerge from the warehouse into the bright sunlight, he felt hungry juices pool at the back of his throat. She may have been a full head shorter than the lanky blond “California girl” beside her, but she’d command any man’s eye first. She was…The word that came to his mind wasn’t beautiful, although to his mind she was. What she was, was…vivid. She’d changed into jeans and a yellow tank top that lit fires in her golden-tan, dark-freckled skin, and with the sun striking red highlights into her dark hair, freshly braided and snaking over one shoulder as she turned to call to someon
e across the yard, she put him in mind of a painting by that Frenchman whose name he couldn’t recall, the one that painted scenes from the South Pacific. She was warmth and light and life. And so damn hot she sizzled.
He rolled down his window and called to her, and she changed course and headed toward the van. After a little hesitation, Eve did, too, throwing a look his way that told him she wasn’t pleased.
And in that moment, Matt caught a glimpse of something in her face…A flash of something came and went in his memory, like a lightbulb’s little mini-explosion before burning out. Something…about Eve. Something…That look. I’ve seen it before. Something…
But it was gone.
And anyway, who cared? The only woman he gave a damn about was Alex.
“Hey,” he said when she came to his window. She had a wary look, a half smile, as if she hadn’t decided whether she really wanted to be there and might leave in a heartbeat if he said the wrong thing. So he kept it light, and the dimmer half-down on his own smile. “Where are you off to? Were you gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye?”
She gave a defensive half shrug. “I thought you’d already left. Gone back to the motel.”
“Figured I’d wait, see if you wanted to grab a cup of coffee…or something.” He waited, watched her eyes slide away from his, then drop, a flush wash over her cheeks. And he took a chance…let some of what was inside him leak into his voice when he softly added, “It’s been five years, Alex.” You owe me this much. The last part silently, of course, and what he’d really meant was, Us—you owe us, Alex.
He could hear his own heart hammering as he waited, not breathing, for her reply.
She looked at Eve, who promptly looked away into the distance. Pouting, probably. Well, screw her, he thought.
Alex?
“Okay,” she said, “I guess we could do that.” And he started to breathe again. “Eve, I’ll catch you later, okay?”
Eve shrugged and said sullenly, “Yeah. Sure. No problem.”
Alex gave the woman a distracted glance as she made her way back across the yard with arms folded, like someone in a sulk, and when she looked back at Matt he saw doubt in her eyes, and all sorts of other things he wished he hadn’t.
“I have my car,” she said. “I’ll see you at the motel, okay?”
“Sure,” he said, and she nodded and walked away.
He told himself, as he drove out of the yard and onto the highway, that it was okay, because at least she’d agreed to come to him. It would all be okay, he told himself, if they could just…talk. In private.
Yeah, and what will you say to her, dumb-ass? That you were a stupid fool to let her go out of your life? That you love her? Can’t live without her? Want to stay here and make a life with her? Marry her and raise a bunch of little river rats with her?
Yeah, right—you know how she is. You’d scare her so bad you wouldn’t see her for the dust.
What, then? Remind her how good you were the past couple of days, together again on the river? Ask her to take you back, maybe pick up where you left off before the accident? Partners…battling lovers?
Except, even if she was willing, you know that’s not what you want. It wouldn’t be enough for you. Not anymore.
And if that’s all she’s got to give you? What then?
He knew the answer to that, even though it made his belly sore thinking about it.
Pray, man. Pray you’ve got the strength to walk away.
Chapter 9
Alex parked her SUV next to Matt’s van, turned off the motor, then sat still, staring at the motel room door in front of her and listening to her heart hammer.
Why am I doing this? What do we have to talk about?
We were great today, on the river. Admit it, Alex. It seemed almost like before the accident.
But it’s not like it was. It won’t ever be again.
Yet a voice whispered…and it was the voice of a temptress, It could be. It could even be…better.
Tears threatened, and she fought them off with anger. He broke my heart when he told me he didn’t want to be with me and wasn’t coming back. Didn’t want to come back.
I was stupid enough to let myself depend on him. Let myself need him.
I won’t ever do that again. Ever.
With her resolve thus recharged, she got out of the car and knocked on Matt’s motel room door. He opened it almost immediately, and her heart slammed up against her throat. She wondered if he’d been sitting by the window, watching her, wondering when she was going to get up the courage to get out of the car and face him.
“Hey,” he said, in a voice that was warm and rich and deep…the voice of seduction. “You want to come in?”
She tucked her fingertips into the hip pockets of her jeans and tried not to look at him. Did anyway, and couldn’t help but notice he’d changed into a clean T-shirt and that under it his pecs and biceps and shoulder muscles stood out in smooth, rounded mounds. And that his hair was mussed and his jaws were shadowed with a weekend’s growth of beard, and that his eyes burned bright as embers in his dark tanned face, giving him the fiercely jubilant look of a victorious warrior fresh from the battlefield.
She said, “Why don’t we walk, instead?”
“Sure—okay.” He rolled one-handed across the threshold, tucking his room key in a hip pocket with the other. “Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. Like…maybe the park?”
“Fine with me.”
So, they walked without talking, across the street to the riverfront park and onto one of the paved pathways that followed the riverbank. They paused to watch children playing with inner tubes in the quiet water near the bank, and kayakers training farther out in the shallow rapids. The sky was clear; there was no smell of smoke—the fire was north of town and heading away from it. Alex tried not to think about it, probably into the high-country timber by now, destroying God only knew how many acres of forest. Tried not to think about the fact that it had been deliberately set. Except for cold-blooded murder, she couldn’t think of a more despicable act than arson.
Softly, and without taking his eyes off of the kayakers, Matt said, “That was one helluva run.”
Alex gave a little whimper of a laugh. “Yeah, it was.”
“Thanks,” he said, and she looked at him in surprise.
“What for?”
He glanced at her and gave his wheels a turn, moving on. “You didn’t want to do this.”
“No,” she said, with another short laugh. “I sure didn’t.”
He paused to give her a long look. “You want to tell me why?”
“Are you kidding? You know why. I thought it was nuts. I still do. And I was right, wasn’t I? Two people injured, and your brother and Sam, they both could have been killed.”
“But they weren’t.”
Because you saved them. But she didn’t say that, not out loud. She walked slowly, watching cottonwood fluff drift by on a warm breeze, smelling the river smell, and feeling an ache deep inside.
After a moment, Matt said in a gravelly voice, “We were good together up there, Alex. Admit it. We were.”
But of course, even though the same thought had been in her mind, she wasn’t about to admit it, and since she couldn’t deny it, either, she turned her face away so he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes.
“Alex—”
She threw up a hand to stop him. “Don’t. Don’t. Just…don’t.” So they walked on in silence.
Some children ran by, heading for the sandy beach farther down, yelling to each other, flip-flops flapping, beach towels draped across their shoulders flying back in the breeze. Alex watched them through a blur, then blinked her vision clear and halted. She turned to him, furious but controlled. “What do you want from me, Mattie?”
He said nothing for a moment, then slowly turned his face to her. “Nothing more than I’ve ever wanted, Alex.” His voice was low and even, almost without expression.
Frustrated, she
threw up her hands and let them drop. “Which is something I can’t give you—I thought you understood that.”
Anguished, she could only look at him while her mind wailed the rest. Isn’t that why you left me? Because what I did have to give you wasn’t enough?
He might have seen what was in her eyes, the pain she couldn’t tell him about, if he’d been looking at her. But he’d pivoted slightly and was gazing at the river now, and she wanted to scream at him, pound his shoulders with her fists. Cry. All those emotional woman things Alex Penny would never do. Couldn’t do.
She stood there, clenching and unclenching her fists, breathing through her nose and fighting for control for what seemed like forever, and just when she thought she would have to walk away and leave him there, he began to speak. Slowly, at first, in a low and rough voice that sounded nothing like his earlier seductive murmur.
“You told me once…about when you were a little kid. You’d climbed up in a tree that was growing beside the trailer you and your mother were living in then.” He looked up at her and she nodded, surprised because she didn’t remember telling him about her dream.
But then he went on, and she realized it wasn’t her dream, but a memory she’d half forgotten.
“Anyway, you were up in the tree, hollering for help because you couldn’t get down. And your mother came out, and told you you’d gotten yourself up there, you could get yourself down. So, you told me…you managed to climb down as far as the roof of the trailer, but then there was no way down except to jump.” He stopped there and looked at her.
She wrapped her arms across her waist and lifted her chin as she gazed defiantly back at him. “Yeah, so I jumped. Sprained my ankle, but I made it down. All by myself, too.”
“You told me,” he said, still speaking slowly…painfully. “You said your mother wrapped your ankle in Ace bandages, and you wore that bandage like a badge of honor. Like battle ribbons.”
Daredevil's Run (The Taken Book 2) Page 13
