Northern Magic

by Janet Dailey

  “What?” Shannon didn't understand that remark.

  “One of the legends of the light is that it will come closer if you talk to it or whistle.” He eyed her with a challenging blue gleam. “Why don't you try it?"

  Pursing her lips, she whistled softly. There was an almost immediate reaction from the dazzling blue green curtain. It hovered, then seemed to dip earthward.

  An eerie thrill ran down Shannon's spine and she tried whistling again. The aurora writhed, seeming to come nearer, then darted away.

  “Wrong note, maybe,” Cody suggested with an indulgent glance.

  “It seemed to respond, though, didn't it?” she said, a little awed.

  “But we'll never know if it would have done the same thing if you hadn't whistled,” he pointed out.

  The iridescent haze began to fade, the brilliant glow becoming dimmer. Shannon held her breath, hoping it would come back, but it was melting and dissolving into the blackness of the night. Tipping her head, she looked at Cody.

  “Will it come back?” she whispered.

  “I'm afraid the show is over,” he replied gently.

  The smile on his mouth began to fade as he looked at her. Shannon felt the pulse start to beat loudly in her throat at the disturbing intensity of his gaze. “Another superstition attached to the lights that I failed to mention—” his voice was a husky murmur, spilling over her with caressive force “—is what happens to the people who witness this magical display."

  “What happens?” Her own voice had a breathy sound.

  “Supposedly ... they do things they wouldn't normally do.” His darkly blue gaze was touching each feature of her face. His arms were slowly turning her toward him. “It must be more than legend, because I told myself I wouldn't do this again, not until that ring was off your finger."

  “Yes.” It was a choked little sound, because she felt the inevitability of this moment, too.

  When his mouth came down upon hers, she was moving to meet it. Their chemistries mingled with volatile results, producing sensations as fiery and brilliant as any she had witnessed in the sky. His hands tunneled their way inside her bulky jacket, encircling her waist and spreading themselves over her spine and hips to press her to his hard male length.

  Desire seared its white heat through her limbs, melting her into the glorious oblivion of his embrace. Her lips parted to discover the fulfillment of his devouring kiss. Nothing else existed in this moment. It belonged only to the two of them.

  There was a terrible aching to get closer to him. Shannon strained to satisfy that need. Cody dragged his mouth across her cheek to her neck, roughly nuzzling the vein that pulsed there. His roaming hands were becoming tangled in the loose folds of her flannel nightgown as it defied his attempts to cup the fullness of her breasts in his palms.

  “My God, what are you wearing?” he muttered thickly.

  A breathless laugh broke from her throat, brief and disturbed. “My nightgown. It's the granny kind,” she murmured.

  Cody drank in a deep shuddering breath and rested his forehead against hers. At some point her hands had slipped inside his coat to spread themselves across his chest. She could feel the thundering of his heart.

  “Tell me that you still want me to find your fiancé.” His voice was heavy and rough in its demand. “Tell me you can still care about him after this. You want me as badly as I want you. Admit it."

  The diamond ring on her finger suddenly weighed a ton. She had forgotten and she didn't thank Cody for reminding her. There had been such beauty in the moment—and now it was destroyed by guilt. She breathed in a choked sob of protest.

  His grip tightened, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist as if he wanted to shake her. “Admit it,” he demanded again. “It's me you want, not him. Your body has already told me. Now I want you to say it."

  “Yes.” It was a thin sound, an admission even as she pushed away from the temptation of his embrace. She kept her chin lowered, not wanting him to see the anguish and torment in her face.

  “You aren't going to marry him,” he stated.

  “Yes, I am.” That's why she had come all this way to Alaska. She loved Rick. There wasn't any way she could be sure she had stopped loving him.

  The stillness of Cody was expressive. “You can't mean it!” he flared.

  Shannon lifted her head, the aftershocks of his kisses still trembling through her. She was surprised she could act so calm.

  “I do mean it,” she insisted. “You don't marry a man because of the way he makes your body feel. You marry him because of what's in your heart."

  “And you're saying that you still love him?” He was angry; a raging frown creased his expression.

  “Yes,” Shannon whispered. “As soon as I find him we'll be married.” It seemed that she had to say the words to convince herself. Looking at Cody, it was all she could do not to yield to the love she knew she would find in his arms.

  He released her with a half-angry, shove. “I'll find him for you. I'll find him. But don't invite me to the wedding,” he snapped.

  Chapter Eight

  THE NEXT MORNING Cody barely addressed five words to her. When he looked at her, which was seldom, his eyes were blank of expression. There was no warmth, no laughing glint, no disturbing light to enthrall her. Shannon had never felt so forsaken. The loss of even his friendship left her crushed. She hadn't realized how important she had allowed him to become in her life.

  There wasn't any way to hide the strain between them. Noah noticed it immediately. All through breakfast and while they were loading the plane to take off, his glance kept darting from one to the other in an effort to catch some word or phrase that would tell him what had gone wrong.

  Dispirited and confused, Shannon chose to sit in the rear seat of the aircraft, letting Noah sit up front in the copilot's seat next to Cody. As he taxied onto the lake for takeoff, she stared out the window, blind to the incredible scenery her eyes beheld.

  Once they were airborne, she leaned her head against the back of her seat and closed her eyes, covering them with her hand. The steady drone of the engine filled her hearing. She was only half-conscious of Cody communicating with someone on the plane's radio.

  Noah's sudden whoop of glee startled her into alertness. Her hand came down as her eyes snapped open. She stared at the older man, who had turned to look at her with a wide grin splitting his face.

  “Did you hear that, Shannon?” he asked in unabashed excitement. “Glory be! I thought it was a waste of time!"

  “Hear what?” She leaned forward, a bewildered frown on her forehead as she tried to figure out what he was talking about.

  “They made it!” he declared.

  At that moment Cody put the plane into a steep banking turn, veering onto a new course at a forty-five-degree angle to the one they'd been flying. Shannon's stomach rolled with the pressure of the gravity force before the plane leveled off.

  “Who made it? What are you talking about?” she finally responded to Noah's statement.

  It was Cody who leaned back to answer, partially turning his head without actually looking at her. “They're alive,” he clarified the statement in a bitingly cynical tone. “Rick is alive. They walked out of the mountains. We just got word that they stumbled into a fishing camp this morning."

  For a full second the news didn't register. It seemed so impossible to believe, even though she had never doubted for a minute that Rick was alive. It was a case of hearing someone else say the words instead of her.

  Relief flooded through her, leaving her suddenly weak. “He's alive,” she repeated, although too softly for the men in the front to hear her. She waited for the uplifting tide of joy, but it didn't come. There was just an emptiness—a loss of purpose. She didn't have to look for Rick anymore. He'd been found.

  “We're heading for the fishing camp now,” Cody stated, raising his hard voice to ensure it was heard above the engine.

  “Are they—is he all right?” She final
ly managed to ask a question.

  “The transmission was a little garbled,” he told her. “But none of them could be too badly hurt if they were able to walk out of the mountains."

  Yes, that was true, Shannon realized, and leaned back in her seat. Any injuries would have had to be minor ones. She caught herself twisting the diamond ring on her finger, trying to ease its constricting band as if it had become too tight. She glanced down at her hand.

  “Isn't that wonderful news?” Noah's voice prompted her to look up. “You said all along that he was alive."

  “Yes.” She forced a smile, then suddenly found it wasn't so difficult after all. “It's great!"

  There was a measure of gladness spilling through her veins. She had expected it to be stronger, but now Shannon was simply relieved to discover it was there at all. She turned her gaze out the window with new interest. Somewhere up ahead Rick was waiting for her. Once she saw him again, everything would be the way it was before. That's what she kept telling herself.

  If her glance strayed too often to the man with the pitch-black hair flying the plane—if her heartstrings were tugged by a silent longing—Shannon ignored it. It was a mixture of physical attraction, gratitude for his help and a keen sense of friendship she felt for Cody. It was Rick she loved. It was Rick she was going to marry. Hadn't she said so repeatedly?

  Almost two hours later the plane began to descend, aiming for a lake winking in the morning sunlight. An eagerness began to build within Shannon. She made sure her seat belt was fastened tightly long before it was necessary. Automatically she braced herself when the seaplane bumped onto the lake's glistening surface.

  Her gaze searched the painted log cabins clustered close to the near shoreline. Other seaplanes were moored near the camp, as well as fishing boats. She scanned the figures of the people but didn't recognize Rick's lanky frame among those walking about the cabin area.

  Cody taxied the plane toward the shore. Just before the metal pontoon scraped the graveled bottom of the lake, he cut the engine, which had already been reduced to a slow speed. In a matter of a few minutes Cody was offering her a hand to help her out of the rear seat.

  The cool impartiality of his touch chilled her. Her glance briefly met his hard gaze and bounced away. His heady male vigor hadn't dimmed. Its powerful force was simply no longer directed at her. But she continued to be affected by it.

  With solid ground beneath her feet, Shannon waited uncertainly for Cody and his father to join her before starting toward the cabins. Noah lagged, fussing with the securing ropes. Shannon sensed the impatience rippling through Cody.

  “Come on, dad,” he finally summoned the man.

  When Noah started forward, Cody turned. His glance fell on Shannon. There was a twist of ironic amusement to his mouth as he silently studied her.

  “Why are you looking so hesitant and worried?” he taunted. “This is the big moment, Texas. You should be eager and radiant."

  Her chin lifted a notch higher. “I will be,” she insisted, “when I see Rick."

  “Then let's go,” he challenged, and motioned her to lead the way with a mocking gesture of his hand. “We'll probably find him at the office. That seems to be the hub of activity around here."

  Her scanning glance located the cabin with the shingle hanging outside, the word “office” printed on it. She hurried toward the cabin, aware that she was driven more by Cody's urging than by her own.

  When she opened the door, there was a hum of voices. The small room was crowded with people, most of them standing and all talking at the same time. Someone made way to let her enter the room.

  Shannon wasn't sure whether she saw Rick first or he saw her. All of a sudden he was in front of her—as tall and lanky as she remembered, and with the shock of sandy hair. That was about all the impression she had time to absorb.

  “Shannon!” he cried in surprised disbelief.

  “Oh, Rick,” she gasped his name.

  His arms lifted to reach out for her. Some inexorable forte impelled her into them. The minute she felt the familiar comfort of his arms, she seemed to relax. Rick was all right. It was suddenly all right to cry.

  He must have felt the dampness of her cheek against his skin, because he cupped a hand under her chin and lifted it. “What is this?” Rick chided, and wiped away a tear with a forefinger. “Tears?"

  “Yes,” she admitted, smiling at him.

  Now she could see the cuts and abrasions on one side of his face, the weariness in his red-rimmed eyes. He seemed to lack that old sparkle of enthusiasm and lust for adventure that she remembered so well. Rick had gone through quite an ordeal and it had left its mark on him. He had matured, Shannon realized. There was a subtle difference to him that she hadn't expected.

  “You must have been through hell,” he murmured sympathetically. “I kept thinking about you flying in here. I wasn't sure if you'd come—if you had used the ticket I sent you."

  “I did. I sent a telegram to let you know when I would arrive, but you never got it. No one seemed to know where you were or where you were working.” The whole thing seemed to have happened a long time ago—to some other person.

  “I knew you'd be worried half out of your mind,” Rick said with a grimace.

  “But what about you?” Shannon drew back to look at him. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?"

  “I'm fine,” Rick assured her. “Some cuts and bruises, a pulled muscle or two, but I'm okay.” He didn't seem to want to talk about the crash or its subsequent events. “How did you get here?"

  She wasn't able to hold his look, her glance falling away. “Cody brought me."

  Shannon half turned to locate him. He and Noah were standing only a few feet away. His light blue eyes seemed to pierce her before they flicked beyond her to Rick.

  “Cody Steele.” Rick's voice held recognition and vague confusion. It carried to Cody and he stepped forward. Rick turned Shannon to his side and reached out to shake hands with Cody. “Thanks for bringing her here."

  “Your fiancée is a very persuasive woman, as well as beautiful,” Cody said. “Did she tell you that she's had me out searching for you—or the wreckage of your plane?"

  “No, she didn't.” Rick glanced at her in surprise. “I wrote you about him, didn't I?"

  “Yes,” she nodded.

  “He's the best damned bush pilot there is,” Rick declared, not at all hesitant about voicing his admiration.

  “That's for sure.” Noah was quick to agree with Rick's assessment.

  A serious look stole across Rick's face. “I wish you had been along—although I don't know if it would have changed anything.”

  “You were lucky,” Cody stated.

  “Yeah.” Rick nodded with smiling emphasis, then attempted to joke. “As the old saying goes, it's a good landing if you can walk away from it.” He shrugged a shoulder. “In this case we crawled, but I guess it still qualifies under the heading of a good landing."

  “What happened?” Cody asked.

  “There was a storm.” Rick shook his head as if he weren't too clear about the events. “Before we knew it we were lost. Then we lost power. There was a leak in the oil line, we discovered afterward. I don't see how Henderson kept it in the air as long as he did."

  “He's a regular Houdini,” Noah declared.

  “Let's go over there, Shannon, so I can introduce you to him,” Rick suggested, directing her toward another circle of people. “I want you to meet Mr. Hale ... and his daughter, too,” he added, faltering a little.

  The pilot was a burly man with silver hair. Rick made the introductions, but Shannon wasn't allowed to do more than acknowledge them. Henderson was being attended by a physician who had been flown in to examine the survivors of the plane crash and supply whatever medical aid they needed. Henderson had suffered a dislocated shoulder in the crash and had some nasty cuts on the forehead that needed stitches.

  Then Rick guided her to the father-daughter pair. Jackson Hale did not remind Shann
on of an oil company executive. He looked like an outdoorsman, a beard growth covering his cheeks and jaw.

  He observed the notice Shannon gave it and rubbed the grizzled whiskers on his chin. “It's new,” he explained. “I don't want to forget what a narrow escape I had, so I've decided not to shave it off.” Then he glanced at Rick. “Is she the fiancée you were always talking about?"

  “Yes,” Rick admitted, and Shannon realized that he had simply introduced her by name without explaining her relationship to him.

  “That's quite a young man you have there, young lady,” Jackson Hale started. “I hope you know that."

  “I do.” She smiled and happened to look up—straight into Cody's eyes. The blue of his eyes was polar; their lightness had crystals of ice in them.

  Jackson Hale was talking again, and Shannon tore her gaze from Cody. “Rick kept me going when I was ready to quit. He was determined we were going to get out of those mountains. Looking at you, I can see why,” he smiled.

  “Thank you,” she murmured in response to his compliment.

  Noah inserted himself into the conversation. “I guess they're two of a kind. Shannon kept insisting her fiancé was alive even when everybody else had given you all up for dead. She twisted Cody's arm until he agreed to come looking for you."

  “I'm going to be upset if I don't get an invitation to your wedding,” Jackson Hale warned Rick. “She was flying up here to marry you wasn't she?”

  “Yes.” Rick nodded stiffly, an uneven smile on his mouth. “Of course, there have been a few delays along the way."

  “And a few more to come, I imagine,” Shannon said, since it was obvious that after all Rick had been through, they wouldn't rush right out and get married.

  “Where are you staying?” the oil company chairman inquired.

  “At the Westward,” she replied.

  “Why didn't you stay at my apartment?” Rick frowned. “It would have been perfectly all right. I mean, your folks couldn't have objected, since I wasn't there at the time."

  “I hate to tell you this, but your apartment has been rented to new tenants,” she informed him with a gentle smile. “It seems your rent was due, and when you didn't show up, the manager packed your things and let it out to someone else."