Snowfire

by French, Colleen

  "Get the rifle and kill him!" Gabrielle shouted, reaching for another dog. One by one she was hauling them over the steep bank and out of the rampaging bull's line of vision.

  Alex moved slowly behind the moose, putting the turned-over sled between them. The creature lowered his head to charge again and bellowed mournfully.

  Just a few more feet, Alex told himself. He prayed the rifle was loaded. Just as he raised the Winchester to his shoulder, the moose charged toward the remaining dogs on the bank. Alex took aim and pulled the trigger. He squeezed it again and again, watching the crazed creature fall to its knees. The shots rang sharp in the early evening air, and the ground shook as the beast went down.

  As Alex lowered the rifle, he heard a creak and a splash and then Gabrielle's shrill voice. "Alex! Help me!"

  Throwing down the rifle, he ran through the snow to the bank of the river. The dogs huddled on the ice-shelf, whining to reach their master who clung to an ice flow.

  "Gabrielle!" Alex shouted, standing on the snow-covered bank. He spotted her on the edge of the ice-shelf struggling to keep her head above water. The heavy parka and leather boots she wore were water logged and threatened to pull her under. "Hang on!" he commanded sharply.

  The water was so cold that Gabrielle was finding it difficult to breathe. Clinging to the chunk of ice that held her afloat, she cursed herself for being so foolish. Though the edges of the river were frozen, she should have known better than to take those extra steps to catch Anthony's collar. She'd have been better to have lost a dog than to have risked her own life.

  "Hurry, Alex! Please!" she cried. She could feel herself slipping, and she kicked her leaden feet, clawing desperately at the ice floe.

  "I'm coming, Gabrielle! Hang on!" Alex slid down the bank on the seat of his pants with a rope in one hand and a tree branch in the other.

  "I can't hang on!" she moaned as her fingers slipped and she went under.

  "Gabrielle!" he screamed.

  Kicking with her feet, Gabrielle willed herself upward until her head surfaced. She gasped for breath, forcing her arm out of the water to grab the branch Alex held out to her.

  "Take it, Gabrielle. Take it!" Alex insisted. "I can't come to you, love. The ice won't hold me so near to the edge."

  Her mittened hand touched the tip of the branch, and she grasped it, struggling to get the other arm out of the water. When she finally held the branch with both hands, she gave a nod, too numb with cold to speak.

  "Just hold on." Alex tugged at the branch, praying it would hold. Another moment and she'll go under for good, he thought. He knew from experience how long a man could live in water of this temperature . . . not more than a few minutes.

  Ignoring the pain in his legs, arm and chest, Alex heaved with all of his might. The dogs yipped and leaped back onto the bank as he pushed them aside, making room to pull Gabrielle onto the solid ice. Slowly, her body rose out of the water as he slid her to safety.

  Dropping the branch, Alex got down on his knees. "Gabrielle!" He ran his hand over her blue-tinged cheek. "Can you hear me? Open your eyes. Let me see those beautiful brown eyes."

  "So cold," she chattered, forcing her weary lids open.

  Stripping her of her coat and parka right there on the ice, he swung her into his arms.

  "Put me down; I can walk," she objected weakly. "Your arm."

  "My arms are just dandy, now hush. We've got to get you warm." He climbed the bank with ease. Reaching the campfire, he slid her to her feet, holding her up as he began to strip off her clothes.

  Gabrielle was dimly aware that Alex was undressing her. She wanted to protest, but she was so sleepy that she just didn't have the energy to speak.

  "Gabrielle, open your eyes. You can't go to sleep; you know that. Not until we bring your body temperature up." He shook her. "Gabrielle!"

  "What?" she asked curtly, opening her eyes.

  "That's better." He stripped off her sweater, her wool breeches and flannel shirt. Then came the union suit.

  "Alex!"

  "I promise I won't look." He eased her onto the hide blanket near the fire and ran to the turned-over sled to get the wool blanket. He ignored the body of the monstrous moose that lay still in the snow. Finding the blanket in the snow, he shook it, then wrapped it tightly around Gabrielle's shivering body.

  Uprighting the pan for hot water that had been turned over in the commotion, Alex filled it with snow and put it over some coals to heat. Going back to the sled, he found Gabrielle's canvas knapsack and rifled through it, looking for her tin of tea leaves. In an instant he was back at the fire, leaning over her. "Sit up. Get closer to the fire." He took her wrist, pulling her up.

  "My dogs," she murmured. "Check my dogs."

  "Gabrielle!"

  "Please." She took a deep breath. "I'll be all right. I'll sit here. Check my dogs. Leo's hurt."

  With a sigh of surrender, Alex went back to the bank to call the three dogs still on the ice. "One, two, three," he counted aloud, watching them scurry up the slight hill. Two more near the sled, two sniffing the dead moose—where was Leo? "Leo!" he called. "Leopold, here boy."

  A low whine came from just beyond the trees. Passing Gabrielle, he gave her a pat on the back. "I'll be right back. Stay awake." In the woods, he found the injured husky and brought him back to the campfire. Washing the blood away with handfuls of snow, he examined the wounds. "Got a needle and thread, Gabrielle?"

  "I think so," she managed, her teeth chattering so hard that he could hear them.

  Dumping some tea leaves into the tin cup left near the fire, Alex added water and pushed it into Gabrielle's hands. "Drink. Old Leo needs a few stitches."

  "I can do it," she told him. Her voice was barely audible.

  "Not hardly. I'l be fine. Aboard ship we had no doctor. I've sewn up more than my share of busted heads and sliced hands."

  Gabrielle shivered uncontrollably as she watched Alex care for her sled dog. Wrapping him in a piece of cured hide from the floor of the sled, he covered the dog's head to keep him from biting. Then quickly, but meticulously, Alex sewed up Leo's two gashes with the sewing needle and thread and released the dog to join the others.

  "There, you happy now?" He dropped the needle and thread back into the knapsack and sat down beside her.

  "I'm so cold, Alex."

  He immediately began to shrug off his parka. "I'm sorry, here. Why didn't I think of it?"

  "No," she shook her head. "You keep it. It won't be enough. I haven't any body heat to hold in." She was huddled beneath the wool blanket, a corner pulled up over her head to cover her wet hair.

  "I'll stake up your clothes to dry."

  "I can't wait. I'm so cold." She lay down on the mat again, and he rolled it up over her.

  "I'll be right back." A few minutes later Alex was laying her clothes near the fire on brush he'd brought from the woods. He retrieved her parka and boots and laid them out as well. It was pitch dark now, with only the firelight to see by.

  Getting down on his hands and knees, he brushed his hand across Gabrielle's pale face. "What are we going to do, sweet?"

  She forced her teeth together to speak. "You're going to have to get under here with me."

  Alex slipped beneath the wool and hide blankets, taking Gabrielle in his arms. She's so cold, he thought as he brought her against his chest. Even with the fire roaring, out here in the open, he just couldn't produce enough heat to warm her. "I could build a bigger fire," he murmured against her dark, wet hair.

  "No. Body heat is the fastest way. You're going to have to take off your clothes, Alex," she heard herself say.

  Holding her in his good arm, he lifted his hand to brush the clump of wet hair off her forehead. Her face was ashen white; her dark eyes had lost their sparkle. "You sure?"

  She managed a smile. "I figured this would be the chance you were waiting for."

  He laughed, kissing her lightly on the lips before he slipped out from beneath the blanket.

&
nbsp; Gabrielle watched by the light of the fire as Alex dropped his parka to the ground and began to unbutton his old flannel shirt. She couldn't tear her gaze from his as he shrugged it off and reached for the buttons of his wool pants. Her pulse quickened. . . .

  Alex's hands hesitated at the band of blue wool. He'd never stripped off his clothes for a woman, and it excited him. With his wife Amber, their lovemaking had been discreet . . . lamps out, fully dressed in layers of bedclothes. "I don't want to shock you, Gabrielle." He could hear his own breath coming faster against his will.

  "I've seen men before . . ." her voice trembled, but not from the cold. "But it's different with you. . . ."

  Never lifting his gaze from her pallid face, Alex slipped off the coarse pants. The firelight played off the rippling muscles of his chest and arms, bathing him in a glorious glow of yellows and golds. "But maybe not in this state," he whispered gently.

  Gabrielle laughed, feeling a flush of warmth across her cheeks. He was right. She'd never seen a man aroused, but it didn't shock her; it made her feel warm and tingly, as she welcomed that warmth. "Alex, I think you're blushing. . . ." She smiled, lifting the blanket for him.

  Alex crawled in beside her, pulling the wool and his hide blankets over them. "You certainly are chatty for a woman near frozen to death." He pulled her into his arms, flinching as skin met skin. "Damn! You are cold!"

  Gabrielle snuggled against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. Hesitantly, she ran her hand over the mat of fine curly hair. "How are your ribs?"

  "Sore, but I don't think I rebroke anything." He smiled in the darkness. No woman had ever dared to explore his body like this. Gabrielle's fingers were light and thorough as they caressed the flat, hard muscles of his chest, not leaving an inch of flesh untouched. She was finally beginning to warm up. When her fingertips brushed over the taut muscles of his stomach, he inhaled sharply.

  "Does that hurt?" Her hand was instantly still.

  Alex laughed. "Not hardly." He laid his hand on hers. "It feels wonderful. You feel warmer already." He was touching her too, now, running a hand over the curve of her hip.

  "I was already getting warmer before you got back under the blanket." She lifted her chin to study the blue eyes she knew were gazing upon her.

  "Ah, Gabrielle." His eyes drifted shut as she brushed her lips against his. "I'm falling in love with you."

  "Shhh," she hushed. "Don't say that. You can't." Her slim body was molded against his muscular one, absorbing the heat of his rising ardor.

  "What do you mean I can't?" Alex's breath was ragged. She was kissing his eyelids, his cheeks, the ridge of his nose. Her kisses were soft and fleeting, innocent, yet all-knowing.

  "I mean you can't. I don't want you to. I don't want anyone to."

  "That's silly, Gabrielle." He rolled over, pressing her onto the animal-hide blanket that protected them from the snowy ground. "Everyone needs to be loved."

  She shook her head, slipping her hands up over his shoulders. "It's too complicated, Alex. You wouldn't understand." The firelight was filtering through his dark auburn hair setting it aflame with bright red and gold flecks of magic. Never in her life had she thought any man was beautiful . . . not until this man.

  "I would understand, if you'd let me, Gabrielle," he implored.

  "In love there's a future, Alex. There's no future here, not with you and me. There's just now." Her voice was a raspy whisper, soft and haunting.

  Alex sighed heavily. "I wish you'd tell me what happened to your father. I want to know why you're afraid."

  "It's not just that." She stroked his bare back beneath the blanket, exploring the hardened muscles of his sculptured form.

  "What? Your mother? It doesn't matter. She's not the first woman to be forced into that kind of position."

  "No, you don't Understand, Alex. There was no forcing to it. She likes what she does." Gabrielle's body stiffened. "She likes being a whore. She's made a career of it."

  "It doesn't matter."

  "It does."

  "Gabrielle—"

  "Alex," she interrupted. "I don't want to talk about it."

  Alex could feel her withdrawing as she spoke. Her hands had fallen to her sides; her voice seemed to come from a distance. He exhaled slowly. "All right. You win for now. But this isn't the end of this conversation." He pulled her tightly against him, and slowly she raised her arms to his shoulders again. After a long silence, he spoke again. "I want to make love to you."

  "I know." She could feel his manhood pressed against her thighs, hot and swollen with desire.

  "Do you want to make love with me?"

  She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. "I don't know."

  "Then it's not right. We won't."

  There was another stretch of silence as Gabrielle held tightly to Alex. She liked the feel of his hard body against her soft curves, and she yearned to calm the heat of her churning insides; but she was frightened. If she gave herself to him—if she made love with him—would she ever be able to recover and go on with her life? Would the pain of his leaving ever subside?

  For a long time Gabrielle lay in Alex's arms listening to the pop and crackle of the fire, to the sound of the rushing river, to the sound of his steady, even breathing. Finally she lifted her head. "Are you angry with me?"

  He opened his eyes, and by the light of the fire, she could see the depths of his soul. "I'm not angry."

  Her lips trembled. "I want you, you know."

  "I know," he breathed.

  "It's just that—"

  Alex pressed his fingers to her lips, silencing her. "Go to sleep, Gabrielle. I'm going to be here all winter. I'd never force you to do anything you didn't want to."

  She sighed, snuggling down beside him. "Goodnight, Alex."

  "Goodnight, love."

  Chapter Nine

  Alex gave the cabin door a vicious kick, and it swung open, slamming into the wall. "God damn it, where are you, Gabrielle?"

  Gabrielle leaped off the floor, dropping the brush she'd been currying one of her dogs with. The look on Alex's face made her tremble. She knew he would be angry when he woke up in the morning to find her gone, but she hadn't suspected this fury.

  "What the hell is wrong with you packing up and taking off like that?" His windburned face was taut, his lips tightly compressed.

  She clasped her hands. "I was going to come back for you. . . ." she offered quietly.

  That's not the issue and you know it!" It took only four long strides for him to reach her. "I'm not your boy that I need to have you leading me around by my nose. I can fend for myself."

  Gabrielle dropped her hands to her hips. "Then what are you so mad about? You found your way back."

  He took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Last night you were lying in my arms. I told you I loved you. The next thing I know you're bounding off like a rabbit."

  Gabrielle winced as his fingers sank into her soft flesh. "You're hurting me."

  "I'm going to hurt you if you don't start giving me some answers!"

  Gabrielle bit down hard on her lower lip, averting her eyes as tears threatened to spill over. "Alex, I don't know what you want from me."

  "I want you to start acting like a mature woman instead of a foolish child. I don't have the time or the energy for these games."

  "Who's playing games?" Please don't let me cry, she begged silently.

  "You are. Last night—"

  "Last night was a mistake," she interrupted.

  "Oh, no. I'm not going to listen to that again." He clasped her chin with his good hand, forcing her to look at him. The tears in her dark eyes made his throat tighten.

  Gabrielle's entire body was trembling now. "Alex . . . I'm afraid." One tear trickled down her cheek.

  He gave a sigh of surrender, pulling her hard against him. "Oh, God, Gabrielle." He brushed his lips against the cap of soft, chestnut curls that covered her head. "What are you afraid of?"

&nbs
p; Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. "You name it. Of you . . . of you and me. Of being alone, of not being alone." A sob managed to escape her lips. "And then there's Taylor. . . ."

  Alex held her against his chest, stroking her back. He didn't know what to say. Everything was so complicated. He had his daughter at home, Gabrielle had her life here . . . and then there was the man. He wished to hell she'd tell him the entire story. He couldn't imagine anything she could have done that would make someone want to kill her!

  "Gabrielle," Alex murmured. "Let me take off my coat. You're getting soaked."

  She looked up through tear-reddened eyes. The snow on his parka had melted and was puddling on the wooden floor. Her flannel shirt was damp and cold. She backed off, murmuring an apology.

  "Let the dogs out and throw another log on the fire," Alex told her gently. "There's a storm moving this way."

  She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "What about the rest of the moose?" She'd cut up a good-sized section of the moose Alex had killed and brought it home on her sled this morning, but the remainder of the great beast was still lying on the river bank. That much meat would keep her dogs in food for months.

  "I strung the carcass in a tree with rope. It was already freezing." He shrugged off his parka and hung it on a peg. "It'll be safe from the wolves until we can go back for it. I left the blankets, too."

  Gabrielle opened the cabin door and ushered out the two dogs she'd been grooming. "I'm sorry I left you. It was a stupid thing to do. You're right, I was running from you."

  Alex sat down on the bed and removed his boots, fingering the worn leather. They had been Rouge's. "Apology accepted." Going to the fireplace, he spread out the bearskin rug Gabrielle slept on and knelt. "Now come here, Gabrielle."

  She slipped the bolt on the cabin door and walked slowly toward him. When he put out his arms for her, she had no power to resist. "You know I can make you no promises," he told her.

  "I know," she whispered. His lips met hers, and she accepted them hungrily.

  "I cannot stay."

  "And I cannot go," she replied, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.