by Laurie Paige
There was no way he was going to let her leave town without a long, frank talk between them about the facts of life. He’d give her until the weekend to confess….
Friday arrived in the same sweltering fashion as the previous days. Pierce took the afternoon off. Chelsea loved it when he eased a canoe close to the deck and yelled an invitation for her to join him. They paddled about, exploring the lake, then later floated around in the swimming area on big rubber tubes.
“Let’s see if Kelly and Jim feel like coming over tonight,” he said when they left the tubes at the recreation room next to the lodge. “We’ll grill some hamburgers at my place.”
“Okay. I need to shower, then I’ll come over and help.” She looked at him in question.
“Grab some clothes. We’ll shower at my place.” He took her hand as they strolled along the path. “I’ll show you my humble home. You haven’t seen the inside yet.”
After gathering slacks, blouse and underclothes, she went with Pierce to his cabin, which was at least twice as large as hers. She had to admit she was curious about it.
The deck extended beyond the roofed area, providing a natural extension to the living room. They’d eaten their Fourth of July picnic there, but she hadn’t gone inside.
The front door opened into a foyer with natural stone floors that extended into a spacious kitchen and a powder room beyond it. The other floors were honey oak.
The living room was to the left and took up the entire western wall of the house, its windows opening to panoramic views of the hills and peaks beyond the resort. The dining area was separated from the kitchen by a counter and breakfast bar. Its windows looked to the north. Stairs along one wall lead to a loft and bedrooms up there.
“Here’s the master bedroom,” he said, leading the way to a room on the east side of the cabin.
His bed was king-size and covered with a blanket of Native American design in black, gray and burnt sienna. The frame was made of logs, and there were two matching chairs, plus a bench at the foot of the bed.
“The bath is through here.”
Stone had been used for the floor, there, too. Double sinks had been installed in a granite countertop. A whirlpool tub occupied one wall. She could imagine relaxing in it and gazing out the windows into a meadow of wild flowers and the pine woods beyond that. In winter, it would be beautiful with snow—
“Shower or bath?” he asked.
She glanced at the shower tucked into a corner, then at the tub. Her answer must have shown in her face.
With a sexy smile he started the tub to filling, then added some aromatic herbs. “An old Indian remedy to restore vitality and peace of the soul.”
Inhaling deeply, she detected mint and maybe wood violets in the mixture. When Pierce started to undress, she did, too, no longer self-conscious after a week of living with him.
“Get in,” he invited.
When she did, he turned on the jets so the water bubbled and swirled around her, then climbed in with her. She found there were many delightful things an inventive couple could do in a relaxing bath.
Later, washed and dressed, they barely had time to start the evening meal before Kelly and Jim arrived with a fresh strawberry pie from the diner for dessert.
“I’m starved,” Kelly announced, giving them each a hug. “Ah, good, you have the hamburgers on.” She helped herself to sliced vegetables, assorted chips and dips.
Finally, noticing the others watching her, she peered at the carrot she was devouring, then back at them. “What?”
Chelsea and the two men laughed while Kelly tried to look indignant. Giving up, she laughed, too, and helped herself to three kinds of pickles, which she proceeded to eat with a generous serving of onion dip.
Pierce couldn’t help wondering what Chelsea would be like during pregnancy. Would she eat every thing in sight? Or would food make her nauseated?
He noticed how easily she worked in the kitchen and how naturally she took to the role of hostess in his home as she refilled the chip bowl and teased his sister about leaving something for the rest of them.
Contentment spread through him, coming not only from the passionate hour they’d spent in the bath, but also from this moment of sharing with his family. Chelsea fitted very nicely into the scene.
What would it take to convince her of that?
“Deep, dark thoughts, brother?” Kelly demanded.
“Not really. Just wondering what I ever did to deserve such an obnoxious younger sister.”
“Honey, would you sock my brother?” she asked sweetly.
Jim held up both hands. “I’m not involved.”
Kelly gave Chelsea a sly grin. “Chelsea, would you see if you can put him in his place?”
“Chelsea can wrap me around her little finger,” Pierce announced grandly. “But sisters are a pain.”
Kelly’s eyes went wide. “Wow,” she said softly, with loads of meaning.
He checked the meat, declared it done to perfection and piled the hamburgers on a platter Chelsea handed him. Their eyes met briefly. He noticed her smile, the graceful way she moved and the quietness that indicated she’d emotionally withdrawn from something that bothered her.
He leaned close and whispered, “Was it something I said?”
Startled, she stared at him, then surprised him by blushing. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’ll tell you later,” he promised.
“Hey, whispering in public isn’t polite,” Kelly complained, setting the plates and silverware on the patio table. “Oh, listen, music.”
From over the water came the romantic sounds of a love song. “There’s a dance at the lodge tonight,” he told them. “The guests were getting restless in this heat, so the manager planned a dessert party with dancing under the stars tonight.”
“Oh, let’s go over,” Kelly requested. “I love to dance, and we haven’t been in ages.”
Pierce felt Chelsea’s reluctance in the remote way she smiled and kept silent. “Would you like that?” he asked.
After the briefest hesitation, she nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “After we eat.”
“Good idea,” Kelly said. “I’m starved.”
That brought a laugh from the other three, and Chelsea seemed happy and attentive the rest of the meal. He didn’t question why that made him happy, too.
Shortly after nine they walked the short distance to the patio that was serving as the dance pavilion. When he ordered iced tea for Kelly and a pitcher of margueritas for the rest of them, Chelsea shook her head.
“I’d prefer iced tea,” she said, quiet again.
“Lots of lemon,” he added to the waiter.
The significance of the request wasn’t lost on him. Had Chelsea used the kit and did she know she was pregnant? The need to know was driving him crazy. Had it been just the two of them, he’d have demanded an answer right then and there.
“If we’re going to have fun, let’s get at it,” Jim quipped, standing and holding out a hand to his wife.
“Why don’t men like dancing?” Chelsea asked, watching as the other couple joined the dancers.
Pierce took her to the floor and enfolded her in his arms, liking the way she felt when she was nestled against him. “It makes them self-conscious in front of other people,” he said. “Sometimes it creates problems for our libidos that we can’t control easily.”
He grinned when she peered up at him. Her smile was automatic, but he could tell her thoughts were elsewhere.
On the coming child?
With an effort, he held the words in, biding his time until they were alone and could speak freely. For the next hour they talked and laughed and danced.
“Oh, I hate to leave, but I’ll be dead on my feet tomorrow if I don’t get to bed soon,” Kelly complained in her good-natured way, pressing her hands to the small of her back. “Would you believe I have four possible deliveries this weekend?”
“The population is multiplying by lea
ps and bounds,” Jim murmured, shaking his head as if at some unexplained phenomenon.
“It’s the spring water,” Kelly told them as they headed back to the house. She poked Chelsea in the ribs. “Are you drinking a lot more than usual?”
“Nope,” Chelsea declared.
Pierce chuckled at the quickness of her answer, but he also saw her smile falter for an instant. The little clues and nuances he kept picking up, not to mention the test kit, intrigued him more and more. A discussion was definitely called for.
“Lightning up on the mountain,” Kelly said. “Are we due for another storm, do you think? It brought a nice drop in the temperature the last time.”
Jim agreed and added, “But not enough rain. That’s what we really need. The forest is still as dry as tinder.”
They stopped on the path and watched another zigzag of light streak across the peaks to the west. They heard the faint rumble from the first strike.
“Three miles away,” Pierce said, having counted the seconds since the flash and the arrival of the thunder. “The sky is clear overhead. I doubt if we’ll see any action out of those clouds.”
At the house, after saying their farewells to his sister and brother-in-law, he caught Chelsea’s hand. “My place or yours?”
“Wh-what?”
He wondered at the little catch in the word. “Shall we stay at my house or yours tonight?”
She stiffened for a second, then relaxed. “Mine. I’m used to it. And the ice cream is there.”
“Do you have a sudden craving for pickles, too, like Kelly?” he asked in carefully casual tones.
The silence that followed arced between them like a fireball of electricity, static but crackling with untold danger and menace.
“Hardly,” she said.
Her deprecating laughter didn’t quite ring true. Tonight, he decided. Tonight she would tell him what was going on, or else they were in for a long session of truth seeking.
For a minute he wondered if she would lie to him. In spite of the sexual attraction, did she want him out of her real life?
“I’d like to talk,” he said once they were inside the smaller cabin.
She turned on the television. “Let’s see if we can catch any news about the storm.”
He stifled his impatience. He had something he needed to check on before the confrontation. Leaving her pretending to be engrossed in the news, he went to the kitchen and looked for the test kit.
It had disappeared from the drawer. Every nerve in his body tightened, then relaxed. They were definitely going to have that talk. Tonight.
Quietly closing the drawer, he returned to the living room and settled on the sofa beside her. He liked the warmth of her body next to his. He liked the faint scent of her cologne and the way the hair grew at her temples, tempting him to kiss her there. He refrained.
Talk first, he reminded himself. He focused his attention on the news. A storm was headed their way. Not much rain was expected, nor much relief from the unusual heat, but the lightning was almost sure to spark more forest fires in the area.
Picking up the remote control, he hit the off button and the set went dark. “Now,” he said, turning toward her.
She cast him an uneasy perusal. “Yes?”
“Have you used the pregnancy kit yet?” he asked.
A ripple of pure shock chased over her face. For a second, she looked as if she might faint or scream. Being Chelsea, she did neither.
“Tell me the truth,” he requested in as quiet a voice as he could muster. He didn’t want to frighten her or have her think he was angry. “Are we expecting a baby?”
Chapter Twelve
Chelsea opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She was, for the first time, truly speechless.
“Yes or no?” Pierce said. “It’s a simple question.”
“Really, Pierce—”
“Yes or no?”
She rose, then paced to the dark window and stood looking out as if admiring the scenery. Lightning danced along the clouds, which now stretched long cumulus fingers toward the town.
“Yes or no?” he said in a harder tone.
Turning, she faced her relentless lover and, her voice barely audible above the frantic thump of her heart, said, “I appear to be.”
He sprang up as if hit by a lightning bolt. Ramming his hands into his pockets, he stopped in front of her. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
“Yes. I would have. When I was sure,” she added at his doubting stare.
“Did you use the pregnancy kit?”
She gasped. The blood rushed to her head, making her dizzy and unsure. “How did you know about that? Were you snooping through my things?”
“No. I saw it in the kitchen drawer last night when I was looking for a bottle opener. It isn’t there tonight. So the test was positive?”
“Yes.”
“Is it accurate?”
“You can get a negative reading if you use it too soon, but if it shows positive, it’s pretty much conclusive.”
He clasped her upper arms and peered into her face, looking very solemn. “It isn’t the end of the world,” he said quite gently. “I’ll help, you know. We’ll share the cost and the responsibility.”
“It isn’t necessary.”
His hands tightened, then relaxed. “It may surprise you women, but some men are interested in their offspring and want to take part in their lives.” His smile was more than a little sardonic and a bit edgy.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply differently.”
“Come,” he urged, still gentle with her as he led the way to the sofa. Once they were seated, he said, “Marriage would be best in my book, but you seem violently opposed to the idea, so I guess that’s out. Are you planning to nurse?”
She pressed a hand to her temple. He moved so fast, her mind couldn’t keep up. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.” She considered. “Yes, I probably will.”
“Then I’ll come to your place on weekends, or you can come here. Later, when the baby is weaned, you won’t have to bother. I can hire a baby-sitter to help during the summer.”
She blinked, too stunned to respond as he calmly planned the future. It hurt that she didn’t seem to have much of a role in those plans. Had she wanted him to insist on marriage?
A clap of thunder startled her to the point that she jumped. Wind swept through the windows like a demon on the prowl. Something in the bedroom fell with a noticeable thud.
Pierce frowned and released her. He closed all the windows and, in the bedroom, restored the clock on the bedside table. After making sure the house was secure, he came back to her.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly, smoothing the frown on her brow with one finger, “I won’t interfere in your life any more than necessary and only where it concerns the child.”
She stared at him helplessly, overcome by a sense of loss and sadness she couldn’t fathom. Tears burned her eyes.
“Chelsea?”
“Thank you,” she managed to whisper.
His expression changed to concern. “What bothers you?”
Pivoting, she walked a few steps away. “Everything seems terribly complicated right now. It’s difficult to think what’s best.”
Silence throbbed between them, then she heard his footsteps behind her. He laid a hand on her shoulder.
“You accept me in your bed. Why is it so hard to give me a little space in your life?”
Again his tone was gentle, as if he dealt with an invalid. She gazed at him in despair. “A child takes up more than a little space. It will be lifetime commitment, one you didn’t ask for.”
“Neither did you.”
“But I want it.”
His eyebrows lifted. “So do I,” he murmured, his eyes on her mouth. He bent his head. “So do I.”
He kissed her then, and she clung to him as if, in his arms, all the troubles of the world could be solved. Knowing they couldn’t, she hugged him harder and returned his kisses
with a desperation that came from the heart. She wished this night would never end.
It would. All good things did. One more day, then Sunday she would go home.
Pierce lifted her into his arms. The phone rang. Bending, he let her pick it up and answer. “Hello?”
“Chelsea? This is Holt.”
“Holt,” she murmured for Pierce’s benefit. He put his head next to hers and listened.
“You won’t believe this, but guess who’s arrived in town?” Holt demanded in disbelieving tones.
Chills dashed up her neck. “Who?”
“Warren Parrish.”
The name didn’t ring any bells. “Who’s Warren Parrish?”
“Harriet Martel’s estranged husband.”
Chelsea woke with a start. Something was wrong. “Pierce,” she said, giving him a shake. She threw the covers off. “Pierce, there’s smoke in the house.”
He was out of bed in a single bound. He slipped into his jeans and followed her through the house. “It’s outside,” he said when they reached the kitchen without finding a source of the fire.
Going onto the screened porch, they saw flames etched against the dark sky, licking skyward as they danced along the treetops. As they watched, a tree exploded with a boom. Embers burst from it like a gigantic shower of fireworks.
“Forest fire,” he said. “The wind is driving it toward the town. Damnation.” He spun and raced inside.
She did, too. The phone rang a few minutes later. Chelsea, sitting on the bed to put on her shoes, answered.
“Chelsea, this is Kelly. Several firefighters have been trapped behind the fire line. A rescue team has gone in to bring them out. I’m setting up a field hospital at the park. Can you help?”
“Of course.”
“I need to talk to Pierce.”
Chelsea turned the phone over to him. “Where’s the fire line?” he asked.
“About three miles northwest of here,” Kelly told him. “The wind is driving it toward the Stewart ranch. Jim’s over at the fire station. The chief asked for you. I told him I’d give you the alert.”
“Thanks. We’ll be there in five minutes.” He hung up and glanced at Chelsea. “Ready?”