by Janet Dailey
There was a knock at the door and Wade quietly announced, “Room service is here with the coffee."
Cody moved away to answer the door. Shannon watched his wide-shouldered frame with blurring eyes. A little late, she realized he had kept the suspicions from her in an effort to spare her additional anguish. Maggie knelt beside her chair and covered Shannon's clasped hands with her own.
“Cody was only thinking of you, Shannon,” she murmured.
“I know.” She bit at her lips, curving them in a rueful line. “I wasn't thinking."
“That's supposed to be my excuse,” Maggie insisted, copying her rueful smile. “I'm always saying the first thing that comes to mind. Wade calls it being irritatingly frank.” Her expression grew serious. “Will you be all right, Shannon? We have an extra bedroom. You are more than welcome to stay with us tonight."
“Thank you, but—” She was interrupted by Cody as he stopped beside her chair and offered her a cup of hot sweet coffee.
“Drink it.” The determined set of his chin and the unyielding insistence of his gaze advised Shannon that he would physically help her if she refused.
“I know. It's supposed to be good for someone in shock,” she murmured, and obediently sipped it. Even that small taste had a reviving effect, steeling her against the hopelessness that pressed on the edges of her mind. After the initial shock of Wade's news had eased, Shannon had already begun to fight back. The coffee just added strength.
“It there someone we could call?” Wade asked. “Anyone we should notify?"
“No.” Shannon paused between sips of coffee. “I have to call my parents. They were going to fly here for the wedding on Saturday. They can contact Rick's uncle in Houston, the only relative he has."
“Come home with us,” Maggie repeated her invitation. “I don't like the idea of your being here alone."
“Honestly, I'll be all right,” she assured them. “There's no need for you to stay."
“Are you sure?” Wade persisted, eyeing her pallid complexion skeptically.
“Yes.” She lowered her chin for a fraction of a second, then lifted it determinedly. “I know how busy you must be—how many other demands you have on your time. Thank you for coming over to tell me personally about ... Rick."
Shannon refused to use any of their words like “lost” or “missing.” She accepted the fact that the plane Rick had been flying hadn't reached its destination; she even accepted the possibility that it had crashed. But that didn't mean Rick was dead. People had survived air crashes before.
“If there is any way we can help, please call us.” The sincerity in Maggie's green eyes left Shannon in no doubt that it was not an idle offer.
“Thank you.” A wan smile touched her mouth.
“I'll look after her,” Cody stated, a proprietorial hand on her shoulder as he stood beside her chair.
“Let us know if there's anything we can do.” Wade directed his statement to Cody while he and Maggie went through the motions of taking their leave. “There's some information the company will need, but we can get that later."
While Cody walked them to the door, Shannon remained in the armchair. Both hands were around the coffee cup. She lifted it to her mouth, draining the heavily sugared liquid. The three paused in the doorway, talking among themselves, but she wasn't interested in listening to their conversation. Pushing to her feet, she set the empty cup on a table and walked to the hotel window.
A mountain range thrust its ridge against the horizon. Her gaze scanned its rugged contours. Somewhere, far beyond those mountains, the plane had gone down—Rick's plane. She'd had a glimpse of the vastness of Alaska this morning—the Great Land, the brochures called it. Finding Rick in all that hugeness was going to be a monumental task, but she refused to consider that it was impossible. She hadn't come all this way just to catch the next plane home.
A pair of hands closed over her shoulders. She knew they belonged to Cody even though she hadn't heard Wade and Maggie leave or the door close. She had felt the firm pressure of his touch often enough in the past few days to recognize it. The gentle kneading of her shoulders eased the raw tension in her nerves. She relaxed against the solid support of his tall frame, letting her head rest on the hard wall of his chest.
“What's out there, Cody?” There was a poignant softness to her question. “Beyond those mountains?"
“A valley, another range of mountains, a valley, mountains, and so on, and so on,” he answered with a trace of grim acceptance.
Her breath caught in her throat at his answer, an affirmation of the huge expanse of land. The pressure of his hands turned her around, away from the window and into his arms. Their strength enfolded her in silent comfort. Shannon wound her arms around his middle, her cheek pressed against his chest. The solid beat of his heart was reassuring. She felt his mouth moving over her chestnut hair, the stirring warmth of his breath.
“This isn't the way I wanted it to turn out, Shannon.” His voice was a low, gentle rumble. “Winning by default is not my idea of fair competition. I know it hurts, but it will fade in time. It always hurts to lose somebody you care about."
He was talking as if Rick were dead. Lifting her head from his chest, she tipped it back to frown at him. “Just because the plane went down doesn't mean Rick was killed."
His hand lightly stroked her cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. It stayed to cup the side of her face while he bent his head to lower his mouth onto hers, warm and alive. Her lips clung to his a fraction of a second after the brief kiss ended, responding to the life force it conveyed.
“You have to be realistic, Shannon,” Cody insisted quietly.
“I am. You don't know for certain that Rick is dead—that any of them are dead,” she reasoned.
Patience stumped the expression on his strongly male features as he firmly reasoned with her. “The plane has been missing for more than two weeks. They haven't found a trace of the wreckage. There were no signal fires, nothing. If anyone survived the crash, it's doubtful he'd be alive now."
“Doubtful.” She used his word to argue her case. “It's doubtful, but it's possible."
His mouth thinned in irritation. “You're twisting things to make them say what you want to hear. Don't do it. It's only going to make it harder.” The hand around her waist continued to mold the lower half of her body against him, the muscled columns of his legs providing support.
“You can believe what you like, but he isn't dead. I would know it if he were.” Shannon refused to be swayed from her belief by any of his arguments, no matter how valid they appeared on the surface. “He's out there somewhere, alive. I'll find him myself if I have to."
The anger of exasperation hardened his features as Cody grew impatient with her. “Don't be a stupid little fool. There are thousands of acres of wilderness out there."
“Dr. Livingstone was found in the African jungle,” she reasoned.
“I supose you think you are the Texas equivalent of Stanley,” he taunted acidly. “You're crazy."
“I don't care,” she flashed. “I won't give up."
With an effort Cody gathered control of his temper and tried once again to reason with her. “I don't think you understand the number of man-hours that have already been put in looking for that plane, how many aircrafts took part in the search. Jackson Hale wasn't an ordinary fisherman. He was an important executive for a very large firm. Cost was no object—not in money, time, equipment, men, nothing!"
The glacial blue of his gaze was chilling. Shannon recoiled from it, her hands pushing at his waist. His grip shifted to her shoulders, his fingers digging into the bones as Cody let her step back but kept her in his reach.
“I don't care how hard anyone else has looked,” she declared.
“I suppose you plan to go out there by yourself and find him.” His jaw was tightly clenched, ridging the muscles. “Would you mind telling me just how you propose to accomplish that?"
She faltered at his chal
lenge, realizing she had been unconsciously counting on his support. “I wasn't exactly planning to do it alone....” Her hazel eyes made a silent appeal for his assistance.
His gaze narrowed on that look. “You don't expect me to go on this wild-goose chase with you? I have a business to run!"
“I wasn't going to ask you to do it for nothing.” She was stung by his failure to offer his help. “I have some money saved.” She didn't bother to explain that it was money set aside to buy things for the new home she'd planned to share with Rick. “I'll pay to charter your airplane."
“It isn't the money.” He ground out the words angrily. “I don't want it."
“Then what is it?” Shannon demanded impatiently.
A low groan came from deep inside his throat. “Surely you've guessed by now, Texas.” He hauled her roughly to him, bringing her within inches of his mouth. “Why should I help you find him when I want you for myself?"
No reply was permitted as he took possession of her lips, his arms encircling her to crush any resistance. The driving force of his kiss over-powered her senses, sweeping them under his domination. Boneless, weightless, she was a rag doll, compelled to submit to him.
Sheer possession didn't satisfy him. A subtle change began and spread. The hard anger of his mouth eased and attained a mobility. It began to urge, coax and demand more from her than limp acceptance. A response trembled inside her, hesitant and unsure. The supple caress of his hands nourished it along and it gained strength.
Dormant desires were aroused and made to burn through her flesh, awakening it to the delights of a man's touch, a man experienced in the ways to please a woman. She realized that as his nibbling mouth drew a moan from her throat.
“I can make you forget him.” His huskily disturbed voice vibrated against the sensitive skin of her neck.
In a cold breath of sanity, Shannon discovered that he could. She was appalled by this weakness in herself. She twisted her head away from him.
“But I don't want to forget Rick,” she insisted tightly, and strained to break the hold of his encircling arms. “If you won't help me find him, I'll hire someone else."
Cody had tasted her response. “Convince me that I should help you."
Earlier he had given her the reason. Shannon repeated it to him now. “Do you really want to win by default?"
His stillness was a visible thing, complete immobility for the space of a heartbeat. Then he was releasing her and pivoting away. Long, impatient strides carried him across the room to the door.
His name trembled on the tip of Shannon's tongue. She longed to call him back, to have the naked strength of his arms around her again and to feel the excitement of his kiss. She remained silent because she wasn't certain how much of her need was dictated by a dread of being alone.
Chapter Six
THE TELEPHONE CALL to her parents was perhaps the most difficult one Shannon had ever made. Minus Cody's support, she nearly accepted her father's offer to fly to Anchorage to be with her. In the end she refused. Her mother attempted to persuade her to come home, but Shannon had already resolved to stay until she had exhausted every possibility of finding Rick.
Yet it was hard to know where to begin. She paced the hotel room, trying to decide on a plan of action and still hoping that Cody would relent and come to her aid. As the afternoon turned to dusk, then night, she began to accept that Cody felt under no obligation to help her.
A sudden knock on her door brought a rush of hope. She hurried to answer it, certain it would be Cody. But when she opened the door it was his father who was standing in the hallway. He craned his neck to peer beyond her into the room.
“Isn't Cody here?” he asked.
“No.” She wasn't able to conceal her disappointment. “I haven't seen him since this afternoon. He left without saying where he was going or ... if he'd be back."
A frown of concern added to the lines on his forehead as Noah Steele chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. “I haven't heard a word from him since this morning. That isn't like him. I talked to Wade.” He paused, then glanced apologetically at Shannon. “I was sorry to hear about your fiancé. It's a terrible thing to find out after coming all this way."
“Rick isn't dead,” she stated with absolute determination.
His eyes widened in surprise. “He isn't? But I thought Wade said—"
“It doesn't matter what Wade said,” she interrupted, dismissing the conclusions reached by others. “Rick isn't dead. I would know if he were."
He studied her closely before answering. When he did, it was with a smile. “My mother always knew when there was something wrong and I was sick or in trouble. It was just some sixth sense she had that defied logic."
This was the first positive response she'd had. “Then you understand why I have to try to find him. I seem to be the only one who believes they're still alive."
“Sure, I understand,” he nodded.
“Mr. Steele ... Noah,” she corrected, “will you help me?” She saw his hesitation and guessed the reason for it. “I've already asked Cody. I even offered to pay him, but he refused me."
“He refused? I would have been ashamed of him if he'd taken money for helping you.” He looked indignant and puzzled. “But why did he refuse to help?"
“He thought it was a wild-goose chase.” Which was partly the truth.
“Maybe it is, but he should have kept his opinion to himself and helped you anyway. Believe me, I'll give him a piece of my mind the next time I see him,” he promised in a threatening manner.
“Will you help me, Noah? I don't know where to start,” Shannon admitted.
“Of course I will,” he assured her.
“Good.” She sighed in relief. “Come in so we can decide what to do first."
Pushing the door open wider to admit him, she pivoted to return to the center of the hotel room. After a second's hesitation he followed her inside, but left the door standing ajar, as dictated by the sense of propriety that frowned on a man's being in a single woman's room with the door closed.
“The first thing we need to do is check with the flight service and get a copy of the flight plan they filed,” Noah began.
“Never mind, dad.” Cody's voice inserted itself in the conversation. Shannon whirled around to see him framed in the open doorway. There was a hard-bitten set to his features and a wintry-blue frost to his gaze. “I've already done that."
“Cody?” His father recovered first. “What are you doing here? We weren't expecting you."
Brisk strides carded him into the room—very emotionless, very professional. “I also have copies of the search grids, weather reports from both the pilots in the vicinity and the bureau on the day the plane disappeared, and any other data that might he helpful."
He stopped short of Shannon, his feet slightly spread apart in a challenging stance. “Have you ... changed your mind?” The answer seemed fairly obvious, yet she had to ask.
“Shannon told me that you weren't going to help her,” Noah explained in some confusion.
“I'm going to help her.” A crack appeared in the emotionless mask that had hardened on his features. Shannon caught a glimmer of that warm sparkle she usually saw in his eyes. His mouth quirked along a familiar line. “I've never been second best in my life. You might as well know that I'm used to coming in first."
Her smile was slow in forming. “I guessed that.” His message was loud and clear. He still wanted her for himself. He would help her find Rick, but he was equally determined that after he did, he was going to win out over Rick.
Once she would have said that was impossible. She had believed the six months’ separation from Rick would ultimately strengthen their marriage. After knowing Cody these few short days, she had doubts—small ones, little questions, vague uncertainties. Her faith in the emotion she felt for Rick was just a little shaken.
But none of those doubts stopped her from being glad that Cody had come back. As long as he was there, she had the feeling e
verything was going to be all right. She couldn't explain it—any more than she could explain why she was so certain Rick was alive.
“When do we start?” she asked.
“Tomorrow. I'll be by to pick you up at seven in the morning,” Cody answered. “Bring along what clothes you'll need for two or three days, but pack light. The hotel will store your excess luggage. Do you have a winter coat, a heavy parka, something warm?"
“Yes, I have a parka, long underwear, the works.” Her smile broadened to show the dimples in her cheeks. “My mother insisted I bring it all along. I think she was under the impression that Alaska never thawed out."
“Bring the parka; you might need that. But the long underwear can stay in mothballs for a couple more weeks.” The amused edges of his mouth deepened with shared humor.
“Where are you going?” his father wanted to know.
“We're going to refly the route listed on their flight plan, and improvise after that."
“In that case, I'm going with you,” Noah stated.
“Dad.” Cody's voice was heavy with patient reasoning as he turned his head to eye his father. “One of us has to stay here to keep the business going. We can't both be gone."
“You said yourself that it would be only a couple of days. Sy Turner can look after things. It can't be much of a business if it falls apart when the two of us are gone for a few days,” he challenged. “Besides, Shannon asked if I'd help her look for her fiancé, and I said I would. I can't go back on my word."
“I did ask him,” she admitted when Cody's glance slid to her. “You walked out and I...” She shrugged vaguely. “I didn't think you were coming back."
His gaze moved to linger on her mouth and vividly remind her of the driving possession of his kiss, so sensually demanding yet persuasive. That odd tremor started again, reminding her that he was capable of disturbing her much more deeply than she had imagined.
“You should have known better,” was all the comment he made.
His astute father was conscious of the subtle undercurrents that charged their innocent exchange, eyeing them both. “Even if Shannon hadn't specifically asked me, I'd be going along anyway,” he stated. “A young single woman shouldn't go gallivanting off into the wilds with a bachelor for two or three days unless she has an older person along."
