by Peggy Webb
“Why, Rachel?”
He pulled back and watched her closely. He needed to see her face. When she said the words he hoped to hear, he needed to see the truth in her eyes. Long ago, love was something he’d accepted automatically, almost as his due. He was older now and far, far wiser. Six years without hope tended to make a man cynical.
When she hesitated, he caught her gently at the nape, massaging his fingers into her soft skin.
“I want to hear the words, Rachel. Why did you follow me to Greenville?”
“Because I love you.” She saw the joy flicker across his face, watched the flame leap in his eyes. And she was filled with hope. “I never stopped loving you, Jacob. Not even in all the years we were apart.”
He couldn’t trust himself to say anything yet, so he held onto her, almost afraid to let go for fear she’d vanish.
“If that seems disloyal to Bob, perhaps it is. But it’s the truth, and I can no longer avoid the truth.” She reached for him, touching his face in a gesture that begged his understanding. “My marriage was one of comfort and convenience. It was a rescue mission by a dear man for a confused young woman.”
Jacob waited, listening.
“I married Bob knowing I loved you, and for that I can only beg your forgiveness.”
“And Bob?”
“He understood. I’m asking you to do the same thing.”
“Say the words again.”
“I love you, Jacob Donovan.”
His hand trembled on her neck. She saw the desire in his eyes and the effort it cost him not to give in to that desire. She hadn’t expected more. Jacob’s easygoing, fun-loving ways might fool some people, but they didn’t fool her. She knew him too well. He was a man who had pitted his courage and steely determination against blazing holocausts time and time again, and had walked away the winner.
Besides all that, Rachel was too practical to think that six years of alienation and pain could be wiped away by three simple words. Right now Jacob’s hand, massaging the back of her neck, was the only reassurance she had.
The silence stretched between them until she felt as if her nerve endings were screaming. At last, Jacob spoke.
“I do my best thinking in the sky. Come.”
Taking her hand, he led her into a vast, dark hangar. Jacob flipped a switch, and light flooded the area. His twin-engine Baron was there parked beside a smaller, single-engine Cessna. In one corner was a huge multicolored balloon, deflated beside its woven basket. The Jet he used to transport his equipment to oil field fires was also there.
“Where’s your P-Fifty-one Mustang?”
“You know about that plane?”
“Yes. I kept up.”
Gladness filled his heart, but it was too early to let it show. Once burned, twice shy, he decided.
“Rick has it.” He saw no need to tell her why. After tonight, he hoped it wouldn’t matter anymore. He would call Rick and tell him the investigation was off. He loved Rachel, and that’s all that mattered. Her reasons for marrying another man were no longer important.
“We’ll take the Cessna tonight.” He lifted her into the plane. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
“Not anymore.”
He smiled down at her. “You’re sure?”
“I confess to a few butterflies in my stomach, but that could be love.”
His laughter filled the hangar as Jacob climbed into his plane.
He taxied the Cessna along the runway, the engine roaring and the tires singing. Fingers of fear clutched at Rachel’s stomach, and then the plane was lifting proudly, higher and higher into the vastness above them.
She turned to watch Jacob. His profile was beautiful, chiseled against the backdrop of stars and sky. All the love he felt for flying was clearly evident on his face.
Rachel leaned back in her seat, content. If Jacob could only love her half that much, that’s all she’d ever need to make her the happiest woman on earth.
She reached to touch him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Cessna cut through the night sky, climbing toward a towering bank of clouds.
“There’s something I want to show you, Rachel.” Jacob fell silent as he piloted the plane into the fuzzy gray clouds.
Instead of watching the clouds, Rachel watched Jacob. He was totally at ease and supremely in command
“You love it, don’t you?”
He smiled at her. “I love it so much that I pity earthbound mortals.”
The plane lifted through the cloud cover and into starlight. After the foggy darkness, the stars were almost blinding.
“Look above us, Rachel.”
She glanced out the window, craning her neck to look up. Above them was another layer of clouds, so thick and heavy, they looked as if they might fall down and engulf the small plane.
“Cloud banks above and below. We’re going to travel down this avenue of stars. And if we’re lucky—” Jacob broke off, staring intently out the window. “There.” He pointed straight ahead. “See it, Rachel?”
A great shining silver orb floated up out of the clouds below them, drifting slowly among the stars.
“It looks like a UFO, Jacob.”
He laughed. “Many flyers mistake it for that when they first see it.”
“It’s awesomely beautiful.”
“Only those of us who dare to challenge the skies ever get to see the moon rising between two cloud banks. It’s a sight of such power and mystery that it makes our small strivings seem insignificant.”
“I envy the moon.”
“Why?”
“I’ve always known you were a poetic man. I used to see that side of you when we made love. But it’s this—” she paused, her hand sweeping the heavens, “that brings out the poetry in you. The sky is your first love.”
Her eyes were bright as she turned to him. The moon was forgotten as they gazed at each other. Quietly, Jacob put his plane on automatic pilot. Leaning over, he unbuckled Rachel’s seat belt. Words weren’t necessary. He circled her waist and lifted her onto his lap.
She caught his face between her hands. “Kiss me, Jacob. Love me.”
He pressed his hands against hers. “I thought I would never say this to you again, Rachel . . . I never thought a second chance was possible for us. . . .” Now that she was there in the sky with him, now that he was holding her in his arms, words came slowly for him. “It’s been so long. . . .”
“I’m here. I’m listening.”
“I love you, Rachel. Lord knows, I tried not to. I fought against loving you again as hard as I’ve ever battled against an oil field fire. But this is one battle I couldn’t win—didn’t want to win.” His hand circled her nape, his fingers tangling into her silky hair as he pulled her closer. “You are my first love. The heavens are nothing compared to you. It’s you I love, Rachel... Only you,” he murmured. His mouth closed over hers.
Rachel thought fleetingly of the secret she was still hiding, then her thoughts went winging away toward the heavens, borne upward by the beauty of Jacob’s kiss.
He parted her lips, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She received him joyously. All the barriers were down, the shields were lowered, the battlements breached. This time no one was the conqueror and no one the conquered. They both surrendered to love.
Jacob moaned in his agony of need. His hands slid over her body, tormenting, seducing, until Rachel lost all control.
“Jacob . . . oh, yes, Jacob.”
In the small confines of the pilot’s seat, they were clumsy. Their hands fumbled on zippers, tangled in the silky folds of her dress. And when Rachel was wearing only high heels and pearls, she enfolded Jacob in her welcoming warmth.
“Ahhhh, Rachel. To have you here is a dream beyond imagining.” His hands caressed her satiny back, moved upward to tangle in her perfumed hair. “Are you cold, love?”
“I’m hot . . . You . . . make . . . me . . . burn.” Her words were short breathy explosions.
Together
they soared. Imprisoning her lips with his, Jacob loved with wild and carefree abandon. Her nails dug into his back as her stormy passion matched his own.
Even the pearls around her neck grew hot.
“You . . . make . . . me . . . wild . . . my Rachel. . . .”
She felt the damp sheen on the bunched up muscles of his back. Lowering her head, she licked at the moisture with her tongue.
His rhythm increased. The small Cessna bucked under them.
“Did we do that?” she murmured against his burning skin.
“Air pockets. . . .” His voice was husky with passion, and when they finally found release he cried out her name. “Rachel, my Rachel.”
She put her hand on his damp brow and tenderly pushed back his hair. “I’m here, Jacob. I’ll always be here for you.”
“Is that a promise?”
“A sacred vow.”
He bent over her and kissed the hot pearls at her throat.
“I’ve always loved you in pearls, my sweet.” Holding her against him, Jacob took control of his plane. He banked to the left and set a course back to Greenville. Rachel leaned her head on his chest, content to be in the sky with the man she loved.
The earth came up to meet them as they descended. Still holding Rachel, Jacob touched down and taxied down the runway. Only when they had come to a complete stop did Rachel leave his lap and put on her clothes.
Sitting in the dark cockpit, he smiled at her. “I’m only going to take them off again.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
They locked the plane in the hangar, got into Jacob’s Corvette and drove to his house. It was made of natural stone and glass, nestled among the giant oak trees that bent their branches over the river. Jacob’s house was like everything else about him, spare and clean and intensely masculine.
Standing in the hallway with the stars shining through the skylight, Rachel looked at Jacob. “I like your house. It suits you.”
He touched her hair. “It’s been lonesome. Only you can make it a home.”
He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom. The room was spacious and airy, with moonlight spilling across the thick carpet. His bed was on a dais facing a large bank of windows that overlooked the river. Cascades of moonlight poured through skylights.
Jacob placed her on his bed, watching her glorious hair spread over his pillows.
“You belong here, my love.”
“I want to belong here.”
He undressed her almost reverently, peeling away the silken layers until she lay naked upon his bed. The pearls gleamed softly at her throat. Leaning down, he kissed them one by one.
Each touch of his lips branded her. Time went spiraling away as Jacob and his Rachel loved. Each time she sought to reveal her secret, he hushed her with another kiss.
Together they watched the sun rise over the river, and then Jacob drove her to her father’s house.
She trailed her fingers across his cheek, reluctant to bid him goodbye. He softly kissed her mouth.
“We’ll talk, Rachel. I’ll call you later in the day.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He got out of the car and escorted her to her front door. Cupping her face, he gave her one last fierce kiss. “I love you. Remember that. I love you.”
“Jacob . . . there are things I must tell you.”
He put his finger on her lips. “Shhhh. The past doesn’t matter anymore. My quest for the truth has ended with you. Nothing matters except you.” His hands tightened on her face. “Say it. I want to hear you say it one more time.”
“I love you, Jacob. I’ll always love you.”
She turned from him, and then she was gone.
He thought there were tears in her eyes when she went inside. The skin at the back of his neck prickled. Premonition? Martin would give her a hard time.
He put his hand on the door and almost followed her, then he chided himself for being foolish. Martin had been unusually brusque at the country club, but then he had always been a hard man. And he’d never liked Jacob’s profession any more than Rachel had. He was probably just being an overprotective parent.
Jacob went down the front steps and drove off into the new morning.
o0o
The jangle of the telephone woke him. Struggling out of a deep sleep, he peered at the clock. One P.M. He’d eaten a logger’s breakfast and then tumbled into bed after he’d driven Rachel home. He was still groggy and pleasantly exhausted. It was going to take him a long time to make up for six years of being deprived of Rachel. He’d tried to do it all in one night.
Smiling, he picked up the receiver.
“Jacob Donovan,” he said.
He listened to the caller. His body began to tense, his adrenaline to flow. It was a distress call—an oil field fire in Venezuela, raging out of control. Jacob and his special fire fighting team were being asked to come in and contain the blaze.
He reacted immediately. There was no time to lose. First he called his office, instructing his team to start loading the jet. Next he placed a call to Seattle. Rick McGill, his right-hand man, had last called him from there.
“Rick, there’s been a well blowout in Venezuela.”
“How bad?”
“Bad. It’s been going for three days. Two men killed and six severely burned.”
“Damn! What ignited it, Jacob?”
“Some fool smoking around the rig. He had a cigarette in his hand when the blowout started. The foreman said they thought the preventer would stop the blowout. When they saw it wasn’t working, they started running. By then the gas was coming up from the well. One spark from the cigarette, and you know the rest.”
“Yeah. The well is now a blowtorch, burning everything in its path.” Rick sounded depressed.
“We’ll handle it, Rick. We always have.”
“Sure. I’m on my way now.”
“You might as well meet us in Venezuela. No point in us waiting for you to get here first.” Jacob gave him precise directions.
“See you there, Jacob.”
Jacob made his last call to Rachel.
“I have to be brief, sweet,” he told her. “There’s a fire in Venezuela, just south of Maracaibo.”
“How soon are you leaving?”
“As soon as we can get the equipment loaded.”
“May the wind be beneath your wings, Jacob.” She automatically used his favorite parting phrase. “I love you.”
As soon as she hung up, Rachel covered her face with her hands. Terror ripped through her. The man she loved was going straight into a fiery holocaust. Each day he was in Venezuela, his life would be in danger. She groaned in agony.
“Rachel? Rachel, honey. What’s the matter?”
She turned to see Vashti hurrying toward her.
“It’s Jacob. He’s been called to Venezuela.”
“Fighting a fire?”
“Yes.”
Vashti folded Rachel to her bosom. Crooning the way a mother does to a small child, she smoothed Rachel’s hair.
“It will be all right. You just wait and see.”
“I love him, Vashti.” Rachel’s voice was muffled against her shoulders.
“I know you do. I know you do.”
“But I never got a chance to—” Realizing what she’d been about to say Rachel stopped herself.
Vashti held her at arm’s length. “To tell him he’s Benjy’s father?”
Rachel gasped. “How did you know?”
“Honey, I knew you were pregnant before you did. Don’t you think I could see what was happening to my child? That morning sickness, those buttons you loosened on your skirt band. I kept quiet all these years, hoping and hoping.”
When Rachel’s tears started, Vashti pulled her close again. “Hush now, hush, baby. You’ll get that chance to tell him. Everything’s gonna be all right now. It’s gonna be all right.”
o0o
Jacob and his team had been battling the blaze for five days. Th
ey were soot blackened and exhausted. Most of the outlying fires had been contained with chemical foam, but the gas pocket deep in the earth’s strata continued to spew forth from the well.
The team worked around the clock in shifts, but Jacob took off only a few hours at a time, covering his exhaustion with crisp commands and a brisk, positive attitude. His men counted on him for leadership, and he gave it to them.
“Jacob, you’ve been out here for the fourteen hours. Why don’t you take a break?” Jacob peered through the asbestos shield that covered his face. He’d never seen Rick so worried and uptight.
“Are you reminding me that I’m only human, Rick?”
“Somebody has to do it.”
Jacob rubbed the back of his tired neck. “You’re right. I need a break.”
He placed his second-in-command, Charlie Macanaw, in charge and left the site with Rick. They drove to the group of tiny shacks that served as housing for them and the men who crewed the drilling rigs. In the distance, the glow of the blazing fire lit up the night.
They pulled off their outer gear and sank onto the narrow bunks. The two of them were sharing the primitive accommodations.
“You’ve been lower than a toad these last few days. Chin up,” Jacob said. “We’ve handled worse.”
“It’s not the fire that’s bothering me.”
“What then?” Jacob shoved a pillow behind his back and looked over at his friend.
“It’s that investigation. I’ve been waiting for a chance to tell you what I’ve found out, and now that I have it, I’ll be damned if I know how.”
Jacob tensed. Prickles of alarm crawled through his belly. His throat got tight.
“Rick, every time we’ve taken a break during these last five days, I meant to tell you . . . it doesn’t matter anymore. Rachel’s reasons for marrying Bob aren’t important. I love her. I never stopped.”
“Damn!” Rick jumped up from his bunk and began to pace the floor, striking his fist into his palm.
Jacob squelched the fear that threatened to suffocate him.
“That’s not the reaction I expected.” He tried for a smile that didn’t quite work. “Congratulations are usually in order.”
