White Mountain

by Dinah McCall

  She took the packet as he circled the desk and picked up the long bulky box.

  “After you,” he said, and let Isabella lead the way.

  “We’ll take the elevator,” she said. “No use carrying that all the way up three flights of stairs.”

  Jack waited for her to get in the elevator and then angled the box slightly as he entered after her. At once the tiny car started to climb, creaking and groaning as it lifted off the first floor, then passed the second. When it stopped, Jack was none too reluctant to get out.

  “Are you sure that thing’s safe?” he asked, as Isabella started down the hallway.

  :Certainly, or we wouldn’t be using it.”

  “It makes a lot of noise.”

  “Right now, so are you,” she said.

  Jack grinned, but Isabella didn’t see it. She had stopped at the second door on their left and was knocking. No one answered.

  “Uncle Rufus, it’s me, Isabella. Are you in there?”

  Still no one answered. Satisfied that she would not be intruding upon his privacy, she began digging in her pocket for the passkey. Just as she was about to put the key in the lock, the door at the end of the hallway opened and David Schultz looked out.

  “I thought I heard people out here,” he said. “Were you looking for Rufus?”

  “yes. A package came for him. It’s marked Fragile, and Delia was afraid something might happen to it, so Mr. Dolan volunteered to carry it up here for me.”

  The curiosity on her uncle’s face was impossible to miss.

  “A big box at that, isn’t it?” he said, as he ambled out of his room.

  “Yes. I was just going to put this inside the door. I don’t think he’d mind, do you?”

  “Certainly not,” David said. “Here, you unlock it and I’ll hold it aside.” Then he smile at Jack as the door swung inward. “Quite a cumbersome thing. Careful you don’t scrape your knuckles as you come through the door.”

  “Right,” Jack said, and carried the box inside. “Where do you want me to put it?”

  Isabella hesitated. “I’m not—“

  “Pout it here,” David said, indicating the floor near a small dining table. “Otherwise it might scratch the furniture.”

  “You’re right,” Isabella said. “Here, Jack. Let me help you.”

  Together, they lowered it carefully to the floor. At the moment when they let go, the both happened to look up and found themselves almost nose to nose.

  Jack’s belly tightened. One inch farther and he would be kissing her.

  Isabella saw her own reflection in Jack Dolan’s eyes and for a moment felt as if he’d stolen her soul.

  “Well now,” David said. “I wonder what Rufus has gone and gotten for himself this time.”

  His question broke the tension between Jack and Isabella. They stood abruptly. Again Jack was disconcerted by the emotions he kept feeling when he was around this woman, while Isabella was struggling with confusion of her own. She didn’t know whether these things she was feeling for him were just remnants of gratitude for his coming to her rescue, or if it was something more.

  Before Jack could think of what to say, Rufus Toombs entered, a jovial smile on his face.

  “Have I missed my own party?”

  Isabella laughed and wondered if it sounded as fake to everyone else as it did to her.

  “Almost,” she said. “You had a special delivery, Uncle Rufus. I asked Jack to carry it up for me.”

  Rufus looked past them then, for the first time seeing the long wooden box lying on the floor.

  Jack thought he saw an odd expression come and go on his face, and then the old man clapped his hands together as if he’d just been given a gift.

  “Wonderful! Wonderful! I’m thinking this might be the find a colleague of mine was going to send.”

  “What kind of find, Uncle Rufus?”

  “Now, Isabella, how on earth could you ask such a question? You know me. It’s bound to be a parcel of old relics.” He put his hand on Isabella’s back and gently urged her toward the door, chuckling as he went.

  Jack had no option but to follow, and before they both knew it, they were outside in the hallway, while the two old men were still inside together.

  Isabella raised an eyebrow and then grinned wryly. “Why do I feel like we’ve just been given the brush-off?”

  Jack was of the same opinion, but more suspicious of the reason why.

  “does stuff like this happen often?” he asked, as they got back on the elevator.

  “Stuff like what?” Isabella asked.

  “You know…packages of old relics and the like?”

  “It used to a lot when I was a child. Actually, it’s been ages since it’s happened. Of course, he’s much older now. It only makes sense that he would cut back on the work.”

  “Exactly what does he do with them…the contents, I mean?”

  Isabella gave him a look that was almost accusatory, making Jack afraid that he had asked too much. Then she seemed to discard whatever she’d been thinking and answered.

  “They have a lab or a workshop or whatever you want to call it down in the basement. Uncle Frank used to catalogue and sketch his botany finds. Uncle Rufus’s specialty was in Egyptology. He used to get all sorts of things that other people either couldn’t identify or else needed confirmation that their suppositions were correct. Uncle John was a geologist. Even though they’ve all retired, he usually keeps a rock tumbler going, polishing some of his latest finds.”

  “Interesting,” Jack said. “But what about the other?”

  “They used Daddy’s lab at the clinic for their infertility work. This is just a place for the other to putter. Most of their real work was done on-site.”

  The elevator stopped. The door opened. Jack stood back for Isabella to get off first. When she didn’t immediately move, Jack looked over to see what was wrong. She was standing without moving watching his face. His heart sank. Damn it. I asked too many questions.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  She stared for another moment longer, then finally shook her head.

  “I hope not,” she said quietly, and walked out of the elevator, pausing only long enough to thank him one more time.

  “You’re welcome,” Jack said, mentally cursing himself up one side and down the other. “Oh…Isabella!”

  She stopped. “Yes?”

  “I’m going to do some research on the geography of this place today. Is there anything you would recommend that I see?”

  The niggle of worry in Isabella’s belly began to relax as she reminded herself that curiosity was probably part of a writer’s mentality, but before she could answer him, he added another question that made her heart skip a beat.

  “I don’t suppose you’d want to go with me?” he asked. “We could take a picnic, and you could show me the sights as we drove.”

  She started to refuse, then remembered how gently he’d held her last night, and how his mouth had felt beneath her lips when she’d kissed him.

  “I’ll be on my best behavior,” he added.

  Even as she was thinking of a way to say no, she was wondering what it would be like if his best behavior ever slipped? She’d seen a glimpse of his passion when he’d put Bobby Joe Cage in the dirt, and again just now when he’d stood between her and Lawton Cage. After a lifetime of perfect behavior, Isabella knew she was changing. Maybe it had been coming all along, but she’d been more aware of it than ever since her father’s death. She wanted to love—and be loved. And how was that ever going to happen unless she took the occasional risk?

  “Now?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I need to change my clothes.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “And I need to tell the kitchen to fix us some sandwiches.”

  “I can do that while you change.”

  Isabella’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Do you always get your way?”

  Jack shove his hands i
n his pockets.

  “Are you coming?”

  She hesitate, then nodded.

  He smiled. It was a slow, gut-burning look that went all the way to Isabella’s toes and back, and in that moment she knew this man was someone who could matter to her—matter a great deal.

  She’d been in love once, or thought she had, when she was in her teens. About four months into the relationship, they had made love. It had been her first and last attempt at misplaced passion. The boy had dropped her within weeks, and she’d been ashamed and in a panic until her period had come and gone. After that she’d sworn never to put herself in that position again unless it was with someone who matted.

  And now there was Jack Dolan.

  She wasn’t a child any longer, but the risks were still the same.

  “Wait for me in the lobby. I won’t be long.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  The quiet certainty in his voice was her undoing. She shuddered as she walked away, wondering if he would wait long enough for her mind to wrap itself around the fact that one day she would lie naked in his arms.

  9

  They had been driving for almost two hours before Isabella felt relaxed. Jack’s manner had ranged from cordial and interested in what they were seeing to playful and teasing. Slowly the tension she’d been feeling had begun to disappear. She had almost convinced herself that she’d imagined the sexual tension between them.

  Almost.

  But not quite.

  Jack stood on the rim of a canyon, looking down into the narrow valley below. What had once been lush, high country grass was already turning brown, evidence of early killing frosts. The ponderosa pines under which they had parked were straight and tall, pointing persistently heavenward against the constantly prevailing winds. The mountain peaks across the valley were already white-capped, with some of the higher crevasses filled with drifted snow. Areas of spruce, fir and pine grew as far as halfway up the mountains, but after that there was nothing but intermittent outcroppings of unyielding rock, fit for nothing but an eagle’s eyrie.

  The grandeur of the place was overwhelming to a man like Jack, who’d grown up in the thick humidity of the Louisiana bottoms. Here, it was like standing at the top of the world. He took a deep breath and turned to the wind, relishing the sharp, cleansing feeling.

  Beside him, Isabella stood silently, grappling with her own emotions. Initially, their trip had started out strained, but the farther they’d driven, the more relaxed she’d become. Now Jack sensed the scenery was settling to her, as well.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Glad you came?”

  She looked at him then, but he couldn’t read her expression.

  “Yes, I’m Glad.”

  “How high do you suppose we are?” Jack asked.

  Isabella turned to look out across the valley to the peaks beyond.

  “I don’t know, probably between eight and nine thousand feet above sea leverl. Why?”

  “Because my ears are ringing.”

  She grinned. “I don’t hear anything.”

  Surprised by her teasing, he pulled her hair and grinned.

  “Oh. That’s very funny, Tinkerbell.”

  The look on Isabella’s face was priceless. It was somewhere between shock and indignation.

  “What did you call me?”

  Now he was the one who was grinning. “What? You never had a nickname?”

  “Never.”

  He shook his head. “I’m thinking you’ve led a very sheltered life.”

  Isabella turned abruptly and strode to the car, then began digging through the trunk for the food that they’d brought. Jack knew almost instantly that he’d said the wrong thing. He followed her, gently sliding his hand across her back.

  “Isabella…I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about…I shouldn’t have said…”

  She straightened, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

  “Don’t apologize,” she said. “It’s just something I’m going too have to get used to. My life was sheltered. Until a few weeks ago, I never realized how much.” She tried to smile through the tears. “Besides, I always like Tinkerbell. She was a woman…er, fairy…who knew her own mind. Not a bad role model after all.”

  “Isabella…”

  “Yes?”

  “I very much need to kiss you.”

  Oh God. This soon?

  She looked at his mouth, wondering how it would feel against her own. When he came closer, she tensed, thinking there was something she should say, like no, or please do. But then his hands cupped her face. When he traced the edges of her lower lip with his thumbs, her eyelids fluttered shut. She felt his breath on her face, and then he was there, his mouth against hers, searching gently at first, then harder.

  Shock ricocheted through her defenses, making her weak with a longing she’d never known. Before she was forced to make another decision, he let her go, then enfolded her within his embrace.

  “Easy,” he said softly. “This is what we call a hug.”

  Isabella hid a smile against the front of his jacket.

  “Really? It’s what I would call making a move.”

  He ruffled her hair and then kissed the top of her head before making himself let her go.

  “Yeah, I suppose that’s another way to look at it. Now, what do we have to ear?”

  She arched an eyebrow and smile. “Just like a man.”

  And that quickly, the tension between them disappeared. Isabella was still smiling as she took an old blanket from the trunk and spread it beneath a sheltered stand of pines. Jack followed with the picnic basket, and soon they were sitting cross-legged on the blanket, talking amiably as they dug through the food the cook had prepared.

  “Looks like we have bacon and tomato sandwiches, or ham and cheese.”

  “How many do we have?” Jack asked.

  Isabella looked up to see if he was serious. He was. She smiled.

  “Plenty.”

  “Then I’ll have one of each,” Jack said, and held out a paper plate.

  She loaded it up, adding pickles and a big spoonful of potato salad.

  “How does that look?” she asked.

  “Like it might hold me for a couple of hours.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “No.”

  Her laughter pierced him as he took the first bite of potato salad, and he knew that for the rest of his life he would remember this moment and the sound of her joy echoing across the canyon.

  As they ate, they talked about everything from favorite Christmases to school bullies, and somewhere between the last bite of sandwich and her first bite of cookie, Isabella knew something was happening between them. After that kiss, he hadn’t touched her again, but she saw the wanting in his eyes and felt his gaze on her face when thought she wasn’t looking. She felt guilty for being happy when her father and Uncle Frank were dead, but she had not been brought up toe play the martyr. Being raised by seven very pedantic and logical men had ironed out any feminine wrinkles she might have developed in that respect. She didn’t have it in her to play games with emotions, especially her own. She was falling for Jack Dolan. Plain and simple.

  “Want another cookie?” she asked, as she began to pack up their leftover food.

  “No room,” Jack said, and rubbed his stomach.

  “That’s something I didn’t expect to hear you say.”

  Jack grinned and tossed a wadded up napkin at her before stretching out on the blanket.

  “If you need any help with the dishes, just let me know,” he mumbled, as he folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

  Isabella snorted lightly. “That would mean you’d have to be upright and awake.”

  He crossed his legs at the ankles and shifted to one side without opening his eyes.

  “You’re a good cook, Tinkerbell, but don’t ruin it by trying to make me feel guilty. Better people than you have tried—with no succe
ss.”

  She was smiling to herself as she tossed the last of the picnic stuff into the basket and put it in the trunk; then she glanced at her watch, taking note of the time. It was a little after 2:00 p.m. Plenty of time to get down from the mountains before dark. She glanced behind her. Jack looked awfully still.

  “Jack?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She shut the trunk lid and then walked to the blanket. He was already asleep. She stood for a moment, staring down into his face, studying the strength in his jawline and the length of his body. He was a very big man whom she had known for less than a week. The only things she knew were what he’d told her, and every bit of it could have been a lie. Good sense told her to go slow where this man was concerned, but her heart was telling her differently. The past few weeks had brought home to her how brief life could be and how swiftly it could end. She was twenty-eight years old and had never been truly in love. If this man stuck around long enough, she might find that was no longer the case.

  Hesitating only briefly, she knelt down on the blanket. No big deal. They’d been sitting on it together during their meal. Jest because the food and plates were gone, it didn’t change all that much. And all that food and mountain air were making her sleepy, as well. She would lie back for just a few minutes to rest her eyes. Then she would wake Jack and start for home.

  She stretched out on the blanket, then rolled to her side with her back to where Jack was lying. Overhead, she could hear the high-pitched screech of a foraging eagle, as well as the wind whistling through the pines above. She took a deep breath and then closed her eyes.

  Jack woke abruptly, his mind searching for answers to a series of confusing question, including where in hell was he? How had he gotten here? And why was his left leg almost numb? Then the wind blew a strand of Isabella’s hair across his lips and he remembered it all—standing on the rim of the canyon with her breath on his face and then holding her close in his arms, sharing food and laughter and the promise of so much more. He shifted slightly and looked down. She was fast asleep in his arms, with her leg across the lower half of his body and her cheek pillowed against his chest.

  He looked at his watch. It was almost four. They’d been asleep for the better part of two hours. The sky was no longer clear and sunny; it looked to be threatening rain. Rising on one elbow, he scooted Isabella off his chest and then watched her wake up. The shock he saw on her face was as inevitable as the kiss she was about to receive.