WHEN I SEE YOUR FACE

by Laurie Paige

  What kind of man took advantage of a woman in her situation?

  He didn't like the answer.

  * * *

  "You're quiet," Megan said at dinner.

  Shannon laid her fork on the plate of beef stew Mrs. Roddey had sent over for their dinner. "I'm rather tired. All that fresh air, I suppose."

  "Or the excitement of being with Rory," Megan teased.

  "Oh, well, there is that," Shannon returned without disclosing any emotion.

  She swallowed hard as a ball of confusion formed in her throat. She'd tried all afternoon to explain that episode between her and Rory down by the lake. Heat, like a tiny pulsating sun, had lingered deep inside her since their passionate kisses, sending uneasy waves of hunger through her each time she thought about them.

  Odder still had been his desire.

  This from the man every single female, and maybe some attached ones, in the county would have sold her soul for. This from the man who could have anyone.

  Had he felt sorry for her?

  Had she reacted out of gratitude to the man who had rescued her from the burning pain of her wounds and saved her life?

  "How did the mare do?" Megan continued after a minute.

  "Fine. Rory should be able to give you a more detailed report."

  "I wanted to check with him, but he unsaddled your mounts, put them in the pasture and left before I got a chance. He must have been late getting back for his afternoon office hours."

  "Probably." Shannon spoke to her grandfather. "Shall we listen to the CD from the Phantom of the Opera tonight? If I remember correctly, it's one of your favorites."

  "And yours," Megan said. "You two go to the parlor. I'll put on the music, then clean up the dishes."

  "I can help with them—"

  "Don't be silly. The doctor said you were to take it easy for a few more days."

  Eight more days, Shannon thought, her hand going to the bandages on her eyes. A shiver ran over her, reminding her of the fear that seemed to lurk close by, ready to grab at her when she let her guard down.

  Taking hold of the back of her grandfather's wheelchair for guidance, Shannon followed him into the other room. Megan had already built a fire. Shannon felt its warmth as soon as she entered.

  "Megan is thoughtful," she remarked, settling in the rocker. "So is Kate."

  "You, too," Grandfather assured her in the guttural tones so different from the powerful masculine voice she recalled from childhood.

  Back then, she'd thought her granddad spoke with the voice of God, or at least very close to how God would have sounded had He ever had occasion to speak directly to her.

  She smiled at the childish fantasy. So much had changed since those days when she'd thought life was perfect. Except for the third grade. Her teacher had been a witch until her father had gone and talked to the woman, then she'd been nice the rest of the year. Then had come fourth grade. That was the year her father had left. The bitterness of past disappointments revived. She would be wise to watch her heart when Rory was around.

  "Tell me about your childhood," she requested of her grandfather. "Did you ride like the wind? Mother said you were the best man on the ranch at riding and roping, that you could gentle a horse with just a touch."

  "It was a long time ago," he said, his words slow and hesitant, as if he had to think about each one before he said it.

  Maybe he didn't want to remember those days when he had been young and carefree, when he could still stride across the land he loved. Her heart went out to him. Life could be so cruel.

  Later, when the older man had gone to bed and she and Megan were alone, she said, "I wonder why Grandfather never married again after Grandmother died. He was only in his forties at the time, what, forty-five or six?"

  "Forty-six. Maybe it was because he was still in love with Sunny Herriot's wife."

  Shannon heard Megan add wood to the fire and use the poker on it. "I never believed that old tale," she said. "Grandmother was a wonderful person. Why would he want anyone else?"

  Megan resumed her seat in the leather chair before answering. "I heard someone gossiping about it after my father's funeral. Losing his first love to a Herriot – they were engaged, you know – that's why he's hated them all these years, according to the story."

  "How sad," Shannon said, thinking of the pain her grandfather must have felt. It hurt her to think of it. Since her injury, she seemed to be much more sensitive to other people's feelings.

  "So. Tell me about your trip with Rory. You two were gone an awfully long time. Where did you go?"

  This much Shannon could talk about without hesitation. "Down by the lake. We ate lunch at the table in the gazebo. Remember it?"

  Megan laughed softly. "Yes. We used to put on the most awful shows."

  "Well, we thought we were great."

  "Kate used to suffer through them and applaud after every song and dance routine."

  "She sometimes joined in," Shannon reminded her cousin, laughing at their antics. She sighed. "It was idyllic, wasn't it?"

  "Yes—" Megan stopped abruptly. "Shannon," she said in a disbelieving voice. "Shannon, I remember…"

  "What?" Shannon asked quietly, hardly daring to move. Megan didn't remember anything of her first eleven years. At the time of her mother's death in a boating accident, she had totally lost all memory of the past up to that point.

  Megan let out a shaky breath. "Only that we danced and made up silly songs. I wish it would all come back, even if it is terrible. It's better to know…"

  Shannon touched the patch over her left eye. "Yes, it's better to know."

  "Oh, Shannon, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of your … of…"

  "My injuries," Shannon finished for her cousin. "It's okay. We have to face life on its terms. That's just the way it is."

  "You've been really brave about it all. I often wonder if the reason I don't remember anything before my mother's funeral is because I'm a coward, that I saw something too awful to remember."

  "Your father didn't hurt Aunt Bunny," Shannon assured her. "He was a kind, gentle man."

  Shannon knew some people thought Uncle Sean had found his wife with another man and killed them both, then made it look like a boating accident.

  "He and Grandfather had some rather violent shouting matches during the years after that. I recall those. He was neither kind nor gentle then."

  "Fathers and sons," Shannon said, as if that explained the quarrels. "They often have different ideas."

  And men and women, she thought later when she was in bed and listening to the wind moan around the eaves. What had Rory been thinking when he'd kissed her as if he'd never let her go?

  And what had she been thinking to kiss him back? The idea of an affair between them was ridiculous at the best of times, and now, in this dark time…

  She shook her head, feeling hopelessly entangled in the web of her particular destiny.

  Eight more days.

  Would fate be kind?

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  « ^ »

  "How's Mandy liking pre-school?" Shannon asked.

  "Loves it," Kate answered. "She somehow has the idea her class exists just to entertain her. She's good at arts and crafts. And Jess and Jeremy taught her the alphabet and to count to a hundred, so she thinks she's ahead of her classmates and tries to instruct them."

  Shannon laughed over her newly adopted cousin's escapades. It helped ease the state of her nerves a little. She didn't want to think about the next hour. Kate was driving her to the doctor's office. Soon the bandages would come off. Then…

  Breathing deeply, she sought an inner peace to accept the outcome, whatever it might be. Even if she couldn't see straight off, she still might regain her sight later on.

  If she didn't, so what? She could still work and support herself. She wasn't helpless. In fact, she'd done quite well at taking care of herself during the nine days she'd spent at the big house. She'd made sandwiches
one day for lunch when Megan was late coming in. And she'd only cut herself once, she added wryly.

  "Here we are," Kate said.

  Shannon opened the car door as soon as Kate shut off the engine. She walked around the front of the car and waited until Kate took her arm before proceeding. They went inside the clinic.

  "Hi, Shannon," the receptionist said. She was one of Shannon's oldest friends from school days and the mother of the eight-year-old who had been in the parade. "I think the nurse is ready for you. Yes, here she is now. Go on back."

  Shannon felt like a package being delivered as Kate turned her over to the nurse, then followed along behind them while Shannon was weighed and her blood pressure and temperature taken. Kate took charge of her purse and coat.

  "Very good," the nurse announced when she finished. She led them to one of the examining rooms along the hall. "The doctor will be with you in a sec."

  "They're clouds over the mountains today," Kate noted. "It's supposed to snow tonight or tomorrow. We're getting a lot more this year than last."

  "Yes. The ski resorts must be ecstatic after several winters of little snow."

  "I suppose so—"

  The door opened, interrupting the idle conversation. Shannon's heart thudded in anticipation and dread.

  "Hey," the doctor said. Mitch Burleson was Kate's age and the grandson of Tom, one of the elders of the town who felt it was his place to keep an eye on everyone and tell them what they were doing wrong in their lives.

  "Hi, Mitch," Shannon greeted him, her heart under control once more. Sort of. Breathe, she reminded herself.

  "Let's get on with it," he suggested. "Did you bring some sunglasses? I don't want you to go without them for the next few days, not even in the house."

  "Yes, we have them," Kate said.

  Shannon detected impatience in her cousin. A sign of tension, unusual for Kate.

  "Ready?" Mitch asked her.

  Shannon nodded, her mouth as dry as cracker crumbs. She felt scissors slide under the tape that held the gauze in place. Mitch put a hand over the patches to hold them in place until he finished. She felt the gauze fall loose at her temples.

  "I thought eye patches had strings that tied behind your head," she said, forcing a lightness in her voice.

  "I suppose if you wear one all the time that would be better," Mitch murmured, sounding preoccupied with his task. "Cara, close the blinds and turn off the light. I don't want a shock to her eyes when I take these off."

  Shannon hadn't realized the nurse had returned with the doctor. She heard soft footsteps move about the room.

  Mitch leaned close. "Don't be alarmed if you see shooting stars or bursts of light. Your eyes have had a shock. Sometimes they react in odd ways when the light hits them again."

  "Okay."

  He lifted the patches.

  Shannon stared, blinked and stared again. Into darkness. Total. Complete. Darkness.

  "There aren't any flashes of light," she reported. Her voice didn't quiver, but inside she felt shaky, confused and frightened, the way she'd been after the shooting. She'd been so sure … so sure…

  "Okay, I'm going to check your eyes with a light," Mitch warned.

  He held her eyelid open on the right eye, then the left. She didn't detect the light.

  "Your reactions are normal," he said in satisfaction. "Actually, everything looks good. Where are the sunglasses?"

  Kate handed them over. Shannon put them on.

  "You can turn on the light and open the blinds," he told the nurse, then spoke to her once more. "You be sure to wear the sunglasses in the house as well as outdoors. Vision can return slowly or suddenly, in one eye or both. There may be sudden pain, as when you step into the sun after being in a dark room. Call if you have any changes in vision, or headaches, that kind of thing."

  "I will," she promised.

  Blind. The word beat at her, so dark, so final.

  No one would want her.

  No husband to share pleasures and sorrows, no sweet babies to cuddle, no grandchildren to delight her later years. None of the things that mattered would be hers. A blind person would be too much of a burden … unless someone loved that person very much.

  She couldn't think about it now. There were people around. She had to get home, to her room, then … then she could think.

  Holding all emotion in, she thanked Mitch for taking care of her while he wrote a prescription for eye-drops to keep her eyes well lubricated. When she and Kate were in the station wagon again, a heavy sigh escaped her before she could suppress it.

  "Well," she said, forcing a smile, "I guess I won't need my new glasses for the foreseeable future."

  "Don't give up," Kate said quietly.

  Shannon put a hand to her temple. The scar was tender to the touch but no longer painful. The physical wounds were healing. Time was supposed to heal all things.

  "I'm not," she said, far more certain than she felt. "I realize now that I really had been expecting everything to be normal as soon as the patches came off. Patience, Prudence," she admonished herself, using a childhood term their grandmother had often quoted to the girls.

  "Right."

  Shannon's heart swelled with love. Kate had waited a long time for the miracle of children and a happy marriage in her own life. Now she had a loving husband, a wonderful stepson and a sweet daughter. It would all come right for her, too, Shannon told her doubting heart. It would.

  "Lunch?" Kate asked. "Jess is picking up Mandy today."

  Shannon swallowed the fear that clogged her throat. She had to face the town sooner or later. "Sure."

  Kate parked, came around the vehicle and tucked her arm into Shannon's. "Courage, love," she murmured. "Brad is just going into the café. He's with the manager of the new Wind River Resort. A woman," Kate added gently.

  "I'm fine," Shannon assured her relative, her tone cool and calm. She had no expectations from that quarter.

  "He's spotted us," Kate murmured. "Such a gentleman. He's holding the door."

  "See if you can't close it in his face," Shannon suggested, "preferably on his nose."

  Kate choked on laughter.

  Shannon knew when they approached the other couple. She recognized Brad's cologne immediately, and an expensive perfume mingled with it.

  "Brad, hello," she said affably. "How are you?"

  "Uh, fine. Fine," he repeated as if at a loss for words.

  Shannon turned in the direction of the perfume. "Hi. I'm Shannon Bannock, one of the local cops. You're with the new resort up on the river, right?"

  "Yes. I'm the manager."

  The woman sounded hesitant. She'd probably heard all about her and Brad from the local grapevine.

  "Glad to meet you," Shannon said brightly. "I hope you enjoy living in Wind River. It's a wonderful town, friendly and quiet … with only an occasional shoot-out. Right, Brad?"

  "Uh, yeah. Well, I see our table is ready. Nice talking to you. I take it that your eyes, that is, that you're not…

  Shannon almost enjoyed his stumbling about, looking for words. He was usually very smooth talking. "It's too soon to tell," she said airily, as if she weren't the least bit concerned. "The bandages just came off today."

  "Hi, darlin', our table is over this way," a familiar masculine baritone informed her.

  Before she knew what was happening, Rory had taken her hand, dropped an arm around her shoulders and planted a kiss square on her open, surprised mouth.

  "Excuse us," he said and led her off, his arm protectively guiding her among the other diners she could hear in the crowded little restaurant. "Here we are. Kate, you sit on that side. Shannon will sit next to me."

  He was graciousness itself, helping her with her down jacket and gloves, making sure she was comfortable in the booth, then putting a napkin into her hand and keeping up a steady stream of chatter so that she couldn't think. She frowned, not sure if she was annoyed or grateful.

  "I'm glad you could make it. I'd hoped yo
u two would stop in. So, how did it go at the doctor's office?"

  There was a moment of silence, then Kate spoke up. "We don't know anything yet."

  A warm hand clasped Shannon's. "No sense of light in either eye?" he asked close to her ear.

  Shannon drew away a little, confused by his nearness and his lover-like actions. "Not yet."

  "Atta girl," he murmured. His lips grazed her temple.

  "What are you doing?" she demanded. Didn't she have enough to contend with without him acting the moonstruck lover in front of the whole town?

  "Showing that damn lawyer what an ass he is," Rory said, practically nuzzling her ear. "He is, you know. You wouldn't have been happy with him. You have too much fire and spirit for a dull sort like that."

  She was astounded at this assertion. "What do you know about what I want in a relationship with a man?" she inquired in an amused tone designed to put him in his place.

  "I know you," he announced even more intimately, clearly having no idea of his place.

  He laughed, an intimate, sexy sound that sent chills cascading along her spine and warmth spiraling through her body. Heat hit her face. She managed a laugh. "Maybe you just think you do," she suggested loftily.

  His laughter rolled over her like a caress. "Even a blind person should be able to see how it is between us," he murmured, "especially after those passionate kisses."

  She actually gasped. The effrontery of the man, to bring up the passion, which had been mutual—

  "Uh, I'll have a cheeseburger with everything," Kate said hurriedly. There was barely hidden laughter in her voice. "A house salad. And coffee, please."

  "The Chinese chicken salad looks good," Rory said to Shannon, again close to her ear. He laid an arm over the back of the banquette, his chest against her shoulder.

  "That's what I'll have," she decided. Anything to get him to move away! "Hot tea with nonfat milk."

  His chuckle touched her temple in little puffs of warm breath. "I'm having the steak and fries special. I'll share with you. You like fries with ketchup."

  "How do you know that?" she asked in annoyance at his presumed knowledge of her and her tastes. Honestly, he could be so maddening!