Best Laid Plans jh-2

by Nora Roberts

  The light in the hallway was still burning, so she could see him, the lean lines, the firm muscles. And his eyes. She could see his eyes as she brought her lips back to his. They were so dark, so completely focused on her.

  She could sense something different but was unable to understand it. One moment he was impatient, almost brutal, in his loving. The next he held her, kissed her, as if she were precious and fragile. However his hands took, however his lips demanded, she belonged to him. Passions layered so tightly with emotions that she couldn't separate desire from love. There was no need to.

  When he filled her, she found both.

  It was later, much later, when she woke, disturbed by some sound or some dream. Murmuring, she shifted, reaching out-and found him gone.

  "Cody?"

  "I'm right here."

  She saw him then, standing by the window. The end of his cigarette glowed red in the dark. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. Can't sleep."

  Sitting up, she pushed her hair away from her face. The sheet slid down to pool at her waist. "You can come back to bed. We don't have to sleep."

  He laughed and tapped out his cigarette. "I never thought I'd meet a woman who could wear me out."

  She threw a pillow at him. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

  "Just an observation." He came over to sit on the side of the bed. "You're the best, Red." He wasn't talking about sex. Because she understood that, she smiled and fumbled for something to say.

  "I'm glad you think so." As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she frowned. "You're dressed."

  "I was going to go for a drive. I didn't know whether or not to wake you."

  "Of course you should have. Where were you going?"

  He took her hand, carefully, as though weighing it. "I have to see it, Abra. I might be able to get it out of my head for a few hours once I do."

  Her fingers curled into his. "I'll go with you."

  "You don't have to. It's late-early, I guess."

  "I want to. Will you wait for me?"

  "Sure." He brought her hand to his lips. "Thanks."

  The air was cool and breathlessly clear. Overhead, the sky was a dark, calm sea pierced by stars. There was no traffic to dodge, only a long ribbon of road, banked first by houses and shops, then by nothing but acres of empty desert. With the windows down and the engine no more than a purr, Abra heard the lonesome call of a coyote.

  "I've never driven through here at this time of night." Abra turned to look out the window at the distant buttes, which were no more than dark shadows rising and spreading. "It's so quiet. It makes you wonder."

  "Wonder what?"

  "That it's been this quiet, just this quiet, for centuries. I guess if we do it right it'll be just this quiet for centuries more."

  "People in our business are supposed to see undeveloped land and think immediately of how it can be put to use."

  She frowned a little and searched in her purse for a band or a string to tie back her hair. "Do you?"

  He was silent for a moment, enjoying the drive, the quiet, the company. "There are places along the In-tracoastal where the brush is so dense you can't see beyond the first foot. It's not quiet, because it's as thick with life as it is with leaves. The waterway cuts through-that's man's contribution-but some things are meant to stay as they are."

  She was smiling again as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. "I like you, Johnson."

  "Thanks, Wilson. I like you, too." He rested his arm on the back of the seat so that he could toy with the ends of her hair. "You said something before about the Barlow project being your last one with Thornway."

  "Yeah. I've been thinking about it for a long time. After Tim took over I decided it was time to do more than think. I wish…" But it was no use wishing she had already cut her ties with the firm.

  Because he understood, he massaged the tension at the back of her neck. "You got another offer?"

  "No. I haven't exactly announced my resignation, but I'm not looking for another offer." She was afraid he would think her foolish, so she began to fiddle with the dial of the radio. Music poured out, as clear as the air. "I'm going to free-lance, maybe start up my own business. A small one." She shut off the radio and shot him a look. "I've been putting money aside for a while now, to see me through the rough spots."

  "Do you want out on your own or do you just want a change of scene?''

  She considered for a moment, then shook her head. "Both, I guess. I owe a lot to Thornway. Thornway senior," she explained. "He gave me a chance, let me prove myself. Over the past year or so, things have changed. I didn't know…never had any idea Tim was into something like this, but I was never comfortable with the way he did business." Her eyes were drawn to the east, where the sky was just beginning to lighten. "He always looked at the ledger sheets instead of the overall project, the payroll instead of the men who were earning the wage. Nobody goes into business without the idea of making money, but when it's the only thing…"

  "When it's the only thing you end up in a situation like the one we're in now."

  "I still can't believe it," she murmured. "I thought I knew him, but this- Cody, how can a man risk everything, everything he's been given, to please a woman?"

  "I'd say he loves her, obviously more than he should."

  "Maybe she loves him. Maybe all the jewelry, the cars and the cruises didn't matter."

  He ran a finger down the back of her neck. "They mattered, Red. With a woman like that, they always matter. It's a safe bet that when all this hits Marci Thornway takes the high road."

  "That's cruel. She's still his wife."

  "Remember the night of the party? She was his wife then, too, but she invited me to… let's say she invited me to spend an afternoon with her."

  "Oh." Whatever sympathy she had felt for Marci Thornway vanished. "You turned her down?"

  "It wasn't a hardship. Besides, I had other things on my mind. In any case, I don't think we can dump the whole mess in Marci's lap. Tim wanted too much too soon. Maybe he'd been given too much all along. Apparently he's been going after success in all the wrong ways."

  "He mentioned owing money to the wrong kind of people," Abra said.

  "He wouldn't be the first businessman to make a connection with organized crime. He won't be the first to lose because of it. What's this?" As they approached the turnoff for the site, he spotted another car. It hesitated at the crossroads, then swept to the right and sped away.

  "I don't know." Abra frowned at the receding tail-lights. "Probably kids. A lot of times construction sites end up as lovers' lanes."

  "Maybe, but it's late for teenagers to be out necking." He slowed to negotiate the turn.

  "Well, we're here to look around, anyway. If they were vandals we'll find out soon enough."

  He parked the car by the trailer. In silence they stepped out of opposite sides and stood. The main building, with its dome and spirals, was shadowed in the predawn light. Like a sculpture, it rose up out of rock, a product of imagination. The interior was rough, and the landscaping had yet to be started, but Abra saw it now as Cody had.

  In this very fragile light it looked more fanciful, yet somehow more solid, than ever before. It didn't meld with the rock and sand, nor did it harmonize. Rather, it stood with and against and for-a celebration of man's ingenuity.

  Standing apart, not yet connected by the flower-bordered paths, was the health center. Castlelike, it grew out of the thin, greedy soil, its arches and curves adding a richness, even a defiance, to the stark strength of the landscape. The early light struggled over the eastern rise and sprinkled on the walls.

  They stood, hands lightly linked, and scanned what they had had a part in creating.

  "It's going to have to come down," Cody murmured. "All or most of it."

  "That doesn't mean it can't be built again. We can build it again."

  "Maybe." He slipped an arm around her shoulders. The sun had yet to rise, and the air held the clean-edged chill o
f the desert night. "It's not going to be easy, and it's not going to be quick."

  "It doesn't have to be." She understood now, as she never had, just how much of himself he had put into this. These weren't just walls, weren't just beams and supports. This was his imagination, his contribution and, though only one who built could feel it, his heart. She turned to put her arms around him. "I guess it's time I told you the truth."

  He kissed her hair, and the scent was warm, sundrenched, though the air was cool with dawn. "About what?"

  "About this place." She tilted her head up but didn't smile. He saw that her eyes were gray, like the light in the east. "I was wrong and you were right."

  He kissed her, taking his time about it. "That's nothing new, Red."

  "Keep it up and I won't tell you what I really think."

  "Fat chance. You always tell me what you think whether I want to hear it or not."

  "This time you will. You may even be entitled to gloat."

  "I can't wait."

  She drew away to dip her hands into her pockets and turn a slow circle. "It's wonderful."

  "What?" With a hint of a smile, he gripped her shoulder. "Must be the lack of sleep, Wilson. You're light-headed."

  "I'm not joking." She pulled away to face him again. "And I'm not saying this to make you feel better-or worse, for that matter. I'm saying it because it's time I did. For the past few weeks I've been able to see what you envisioned here, what you wanted to say, how you wanted to say it. It's beautiful, Cody, and maybe it sounds overdone, but it's majestic. When it's finished-and it will be finished one day- it's going to be a work of art, the way only the best buildings can be."

  He stared at her as the sun peeked over the ridges of rock and brought the first hints of daylight. "I know I'm supposed to gloat, but I can't seem to manage it."

  "You can be proud of this." She rested her hands on his shoulders. "I'm proud of this, and of you."

  "Abra…" He skimmed his knuckles over her cheek. "You leave me speechless."

  "I'd like you to know that when it comes time to rebuild I want to be a part of it." Tilting her head, she smiled. "Not that there shouldn't be a few adjustments."

  He laughed and yanked her close. He'd needed this. "There had to be that."

  "Minor ones," she continued, holding on to him. "Reasonable ones."

  "Naturally."

  "We'll discuss them." She bit his ear. "Professionally."

  "Sure we will. But I'm not changing anything."

  "Cody…"

  "I haven't told you that you're one of the best." Now it was her turn to look astonished. "As engineers go."

  "Thanks a lot." She pulled back. "I feel better. How about you?"

  "Yeah, I feel better." He ran a finger down her cheek. "Thanks."

  "Let's take a look around, then. It's what we came for."

  Arm in arm, they walked toward the main building. "The investigation's going to be rough," Cody began. It was easier to talk about it now. "It could mess up your plans to start your own business. At least for a while."

  "I know. I guess I've been trying not to think about that. Not yet."

  "You'll have Barlow behind you. And Powell and Johnson."

  She smiled as he pulled open the door. "I appreciate that. I never asked you what Nathan said."

  "He said he'd be on the first available plane." He paused just inside the door and looked.

  The walls were up, the drywall smeared with compound and sanded smooth. Empty buckets were turned over, some of them bridged with boards to make casual seats. The elevators that had given Abra such grief were resting at ground level. The forms for the curving stairs were in place, the windows secured. Instead of the buzz and whine of tools, there was a silence, an echoing one that reached from the scarred subflooring to the brilliantly colored dome.

  As they stood there she knew how he felt, even how he thought, because her own frustration at the futility of it all rose.

  "It hurts, doesn't it?"

  "Yeah." But he'd had to come and work his way through it. Minute by minute, it was becoming easier. "It'll pass, but I've got to say I don't want to watch when they start tearing it out." "No, neither do I." She walked in a little farther and set her purse on a sawhorse. It did hurt. Maybe it would help for them to look beyond the immediate future to a more distant one. "You know, I've always wanted to come into a place like this as a patron." She turned with a smile because she felt they both needed it. "I'll make you a deal, Johnson. When it's done and your damn waterfalls are running, I'll treat you to a weekend."

  "There's a resort I designed in Tampa that's already open."

  She lifted a brow. "Does it have waterfalls?" "A lagoon, in the center of the lobby." "Figures. It's too dark to see much in here." "I've got a flashlight in the car." He rocked back on his heels. "I'd like to take a closer look, make sure whoever was down here wasn't poking around where they shouldn't have been."

  "Okay." She yawned once, hugely. "I can sleep tomorrow."

  "I'll be right back."

  She turned back into the room when he had gone. It was a waste, a terrible one, she thought, but it all hadn't been for nothing. Without this project, these buildings, she might never have met him. They said you didn't miss what you'd never had, but when she thought of Cody Abra was certain that was wrong. There would have been a hole in her life, always. She might not have known why, but she would have felt it.

  Building had brought them together, and it would bring them together again. Maybe it was time she stopped sitting at the drawing board and planning out her personal life. With Cody, it might be possible to simply take, to simply act. With Cody, it might be possible to admit her feelings.

  Scary, she thought, and with a nervous laugh she began to wander. She'd have to give the idea a lot of thought.

  He cared for her. He might care enough to be glad if she told him she would relocate in Florida. They could go on there the way they had here. Until… She couldn't get beyond the until.

  It didn't matter. She would deal with until when she got there. The one thing she was certain of was that she wasn't going to let him walk away.

  With a shrug, she glanced up at the dome. The light was trickling through, thin but beautifully tinted by the glass. Pleased, she circled around. It was lovely the way it fell on the flooring, seeped into the corners. She could almost imagine the tinkling of the waterfall, the thick, cozy chairs circled around the clear pool.

  They'd come back here one day, when the lobby was filled with people and light. When they did, they would remember how it had all started. His vision, and hers.

  Daydreaming, she wandered toward the pipes that ran down the walls. Fanciful, yes, but certainly not foolish. In fact, she could- Her thoughts broke off as she stared down.

  At first she wondered how the drywall finishers could have been so careless as to waste a trowelful of compound. And then not to clean it up, she thought as she crouched down to inspect it. A finger of light fell over it, making her look again, then look more closely and reach out to touch.

  The moment she did, her heart froze. Scrambling up, she raced for the door, screaming for Cody.

  He found the flashlight in the glove compartment, then tested it as a matter of course. It was probably useless to look around. It was probably just as useless to want to rip off a few panels of drywall and see for himself.

  What did it matter if the place had been vandalized at this point? Correcting the wiring would have been difficult and time-consuming enough, but if the concrete and the steel were substandard, it all had to come down.

  The anger bubbled up again, enough that he nearly tossed the flashlight back into the car. He'd come this far, he reminded himself. And Abra with him. They would look, and then they would leave. After the next day, what had once been his would be completely out of his hands.

  His thoughts were running along the same lines as Abra's when he started back. Without the building- whatever Tim had done to sabotage it-he would never
have met her. Whatever happened here, the moment the mess was turned over to the proper authorities he was going to tell her exactly what he wanted. Needed.

  The hell with that, he decided, quickening his pace. He was going to tell her now, right now, on the spot where it had all started. Maybe it was fitting, somehow, to ask her to marry him inside the half-finished building that had brought them together. The idea made him grin. What could be more fitting?

  When he heard her scream the first time, his head whipped up. His heart stopped, but he was already running when she screamed again. He was close enough, when the explosion ripped, that the wall of hot air punched him like a fist and sent him flying in a rain of glass and rock and sheared metal.

  The fall left him dazed-five seconds, ten. Then he was up and racing forward. He didn't feel the gash on his temple where something sharp and jagged had spun by close enough to tear his flesh. He didn't realize that the fall and those few seconds of numbness had saved his life.

  All he saw were the flames licking greedily out of the windows the explosion had blown apart. Even as he reached what had been the doorway there were other explosions, one after another until the dawn echoed like a battlefield.

  He was screaming for her, so strangled by fear that he couldn't hear his own voice, couldn't feel his own heart pumping out the panic. Something else blew, and a chunk of two-by-four shot out like a bullet, missing him by inches. The wall of heat drove him back once, searing his skin. Coughing, choking, he dropped to his knees and crawled inside.

  There was more than fire here. Through the thick screen of smoke he could see where walls had crumbled, where huge chunks of ceiling had fallen in. As he fought his way in he could hear the sickening sound of steel breaking free and crashing down.

  Blindly he heaved rubble aside, slicing his hand diagonally from one side of the palm to the other. Blood trickled into his eyes, which were already wet from the sting of smoke and fear.

  Then he saw her hand, just her hand, almost covered by a pile of rubble. With a strength born of desperation, he began to heave and toss while the fire raged around him, roaring and belching and consuming. Over and over he called out her name, no longer aware of where he was, only that he had to get to her.