He turned his head and met her lips with his own. She was doing her best, he knew. But the forgiveness he sought would have to come from a higher power.
“Come on,” he said, giving her a light smack on her rear. “Let’s go home. I’m starving.”
The skies had cleared, but Gail could feel the rear wheels of the compact car slipping every now and then on the packed snow as they drove home. Blake was unusually quiet, his face set as he stared at the road ahead, his hands gripping the wheel as if he were afraid to ease up on it.
She stole a glance now and again at his forbidding profile, wishing she hadn’t been so curious about his past. She’d sensed there was something else there, something he hadn’t wanted to talk about, but she hadn’t dreamed it would be so devastating, or how much impact the tragedy had wrought on his life.
She longed to heal that part of him, to give him the reassurance he needed. If only she could find the right words to say what was in her heart. If only she could reach that part of him that he guarded so tenaciously.
She was relieved when they reached town. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and her stomach ached with hunger. Maybe they would both feel better, she thought wistfully, once they had some warm food inside them.
She called Darcie as soon as she was in the house.
“What happened?” Darcie demanded, the moment she heard Gail’s voice. “The cops wouldn’t tell me anything except that you were all right. What’s this all about?”
“I had some trouble with my ex-brother-in-law,” Gail said, skimming over the truth. “I’m sorry you got involved. Is Annie all right?”
“She’s fine,” Darcie assured her, although she still sounded anxious. “She wanted to stay up and talk to you, but she fell asleep so I put her to bed.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Darcie,” Gail said, swallowing her disappointment at missing the chance to speak with her daughter.
“You can thank me by telling me what’s going on.”
“I can’t explain it all now, but I promise I’ll tell you everything just as soon as I can.”
“Does this have anything to do with Blake? He’s not your brother-in-law, is he?”
Gail smiled. “No, he’s not. I swear, Darcie, I’ll tell you everything...soon. Can you just keep Annie for tonight?”
“As long as you want. Just make sure you fill me in on the all the mystery.”
“I promise.” Gail hung up and looked at Blake, who sat slumped in an armchair, his chin resting on his hands. “You do think Heather will be all right there, don’t you? I mean, Mike knows where she is now and—”
Blake looked up at her, his eyes bleak and full of a sadness she didn’t understand. “She’ll be fine. Even if by some miracle Stevens got out of the lake, he could walk all night and not reach Mellow Springs until late tomorrow. By then the sheriff will have picked him up.”
“He could get a ride into town.”
“He couldn’t take the chance. Not with his hands cuffed.” He frowned. “Gail, the chances of him coming out of that water are very slim.”
“I know. I just won’t feel safe until I know he’s been found, one way or another.” She glanced at the clock. “Shower first or food?”
“Definitely food.”
“I was hoping that’s what you’d say.” She went into the kitchen and started opening cupboard doors.
After a moment or two, he followed her in and sat down at the table. “I could take you out to dinner.”
She shook her head. “I’d rather eat at home. I look a mess.”
“You look pretty good to me.”
She pulled a face at him. She knew what she looked like. Hair matted and tangled, probably full of twigs. She’d rinsed off her face and hands before calling Darcie, but she hadn’t had time to tackle any more than that.
“How about sloppy joes?” she suggested, taking a quick survey of her cupboard. “Or I could defrost some chicken in the microwave.”
“The way my stomach is hollering for food, dry toast would taste good right now.”
“Sloppy joes, then. It’ll be faster.”
She could feel his depression all the way across the room. She crumbled hamburger into a pan and wondered if he was blaming himself again for what had happened at the lake. If so, they needed to talk about it.
She waited until she had set the steaming burgers in front of him and joined him at the table before bringing up the subject. “You didn’t tell me how you knew where to find me this afternoon,” she said, watching him take a huge bite of his sandwich. “Were you there when I drove in?”
He shook his head. “I went to the bookstore. Polly told me you’d left without saying where you were going, but that you’d sent someone to Darcie’s house. The officer called back and told Polly that you hadn’t been to the house. I guessed Stevens was involved somewhere. I’d already found the cabin and figured he’d been there. I banked everything on the hope that he’d taken you back there with him.”
“Thank God you did.” She shuddered. “I’d hate to think what would have happened if you hadn’t turned up when you did. You saved my life, Blake. How do I thank someone for saving my life?”
“I got you into this mess in the first place. If I’d taken better care of you he wouldn’t have grabbed you.”
So he had taken the blame. She let out a sigh of exasperation. “When are you going to stop blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong? What if you hadn’t found out he was coming to Mellow Springs? He would still have found me, and I would be dead by now. Maybe Heather, too. We both have you to thank for our lives.”
He looked at her, and the warm gleam in his eyes made her forget how hungry she was. “You’re one heck of a woman, Gail Stevens,” he said softly. “I’m real glad I met you.”
She smiled. “I’m glad I met you, too. Now eat your supper.”
“I will if you’ll eat yours. Then we’ll take that shower you talked about earlier.”
“Together?” She grinned. “Hmm, I like that idea.” She tilted her head to one side. “You are going to stay, aren’t you? Tonight, I mean?”
He nodded without looking at her. “I’m not leaving your side again until I know Stevens is either dead or behind bars. I’m not taking any more chances.”
It wasn’t the answer she wanted, she thought ruefully, but it would have to do for now.
He helped her with the dishes, and then led her to the shower. She climbed out of her clothes for the second time that day, and stepped with him into the wonderful, healing torrent of hot water. He shampooed her hair for her, and she did the same for him.
When he took the soap in his hands and worked up a lather, she waited in breathless anticipation, then shivered with delight as he gently and thoroughly smoothed the foam over her entire body. Then it was her turn, and she took her time, savoring the feel of his hard, smooth muscles beneath her fingers, and the sound of his harsh breathing.
“I would have taken an even bet,” he muttered when she was finished, “that I was too wiped out for you to do this to me again tonight.”
Smiling in triumph, she slid her wet body slowly back and forth across his stomach. “That just goes to prove, Marshal, that you don’t know your own strength.”
His hands slid down her back to her bottom. “Maybe not,” he muttered thickly, “but I get the distinct feeling that I’m about to find out.”
She slept in his arms that night, exhaustion and a strange feeling of contentment blocking out the hours until daylight awakened her.
She opened her eyes, knowing at once that she was alone. She lay quiet for a moment, and listened for the sounds of him moving around. She could hear nothing but the scratch of frozen shrubs against the bedroom window.
She slipped out of bed, and snatched a white terry-cloth robe from the closet. She didn’t wait to put on slippers, but padded out barefoot to the kitchen.
Relief washed over her when she saw him sitting at the kitchen table. She’d thought for a
moment that he’d left without waking her. He was fully dressed, in jeans and a dark multicolored sweater. He sat with the morning paper in front of him, although she could see he hadn’t turned the pages.
Disappointed that he hadn’t waited for her to wake up, she fastened the belt of her robe and headed for the coffeepot. “How long have you been up?” she asked casually.
“A couple of hours. I put in a call to the sheriff’s office but there’s no news yet.”
She nodded. His job. Always his job. She pushed back the resentment. After all, her life was in possible danger until they knew what had happened to Mike. She was his responsibility.
She tried to feel happy about that, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to be a responsibility. She didn’t want him there because he had a job to do. She wanted him there because she loved him, and above all, she wanted him there because he wanted to be with her.
She filled the coffee machine with water and switched it on. “How long do you think it will be before we know?”
“Any time now, I guess. They’re out there dragging the lake.”
“What if they don’t find him?”
“Then we start tracking him down again. He’s not going to get far wearing cuffs.”
She reached in the cupboard for a couple of coffee mugs and set them on the counter. Her stomach felt as if it had a cold, hard knot in it. He’d withdrawn from her again.
Gone was the warm gleam in his eyes, and the sensuous smile. His voice was no longer soft and husky with emotion. His words were clipped, and so far he’d avoided meeting her gaze.
Was he simply immersing himself in his job, she wondered, to the extent of shutting her out? Or was there something else, something that he still hadn’t told her? Something that kept intruding into their private little world and destroying the beautiful, fragile bond between them—a bond that was much too new to be tested yet.
If only she knew what was really going on in his mind. Just when she thought she’d reached him, just when she thought she was beginning to understand him, he would disappear again into that remote, obscure region where she was forbidden to follow.
She was afraid. Not of Mike anymore; she was reasonably sure that Mike had died under the black ice of Deep Frost Lake. She was afraid for herself. Afraid of what would happen to her if Blake had simply been amusing himself while he did his job.
The coffee began to drip into the pot, filling the kitchen with its enticing fragrance. “I have bacon and eggs if you’re hungry,” she said, tossing the words over her shoulder.
“That sounds great. Thanks.” The newspaper rustled as he turned the pages.
Again she had to fight back the resentment. Men reacted differently than women in these situations. She was just put out because he wasn’t filled with the same romantic glow that enveloped her. Maybe she was being unreasonable to expect him to feel the same heady excitement she felt whenever she set eyes on him. But then, she’d never been in love before.
She poured him a cup of coffee and set it in front of him. He smiled up at her, but she couldn’t see it reflected in his eyes. The knot in her stomach tightened. “Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”
“Thanks. Can I help?”
“No, you finish reading the paper.” She summoned a smile of her own and went back to the stove to cook his breakfast. In spite of the tantalizing aroma of the sizzling bacon, she didn’t feel in the least bit hungry. She cooked some for herself anyway. She remembered him saying how much he hated eating alone.
She could see the stress in his face as he ate, although he made a valiant attempt to cover up his tension. “It looks as if the snow has gone for a while,” she said, determined not to eat in silence.
“I hope so. It will make things easier out at the lake.”
She thought she knew what was bothering him. “Would you rather have been out there? I’ll be fine here if you want to go out and see what’s happening.”
He shook his head. “No, they’ll call me if there’s any news.” His gaze wandered around the kitchen, almost as if he was looking for something to comment on. He finally found it.
“Did Heather draw that picture on the fridge?”
She nodded. “In kindergarten. She’s drawn several of them, but that one’s my favorite.”
He gazed for some time at the crude drawing of children sliding down the mountain on brightly colored disks. Then he said quietly, “She does a good job.”
She remembered it then. “Just a minute,” she said, “I have something to give you. Heather drew a picture for you the day we went to the mountain. She was going to give it to you that night, after you told her the story, but she fell asleep. She made me promise to give it to you, but with everything that’s been going on I forgot.”
His expression remained impassive, but she could swear she saw grief in his eyes. “That’s sweet,” he said, his voice catching just a little.
“I’ll get it.” She turned to go, but just then the phone rang—a shrill sound that brought her to a full stop. She felt sick as she watched Blake get up and reach for the wall phone.
“Foster.” He listened for a moment, his head slowly nodding, his expression unreadable. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that,” he said at last, and replaced the receiver.
She felt cold, then hot, then light-headed. “What happened?”
He walked back to the chair he’d just vacated and stood behind it, resting his hands on the back of it. “They found Stevens,” he said, his gaze intent on her face. “He’s dead.”
Her relief was almost overwhelming. It was over. It was finally over. She held out her arms to him, and after a moment’s hesitation he strode toward her and gathered her against his broad chest.
She didn’t even realize she was crying until he stroked her hair, murmuring, “It’s all right, it’s over now.”
She buried her nose in the warmth of his sweater and blinked back the tears. He felt so good. He smelled so good. She had forgotten how much she liked the spicy cologne he wore.
“We got the bastard,” Blake muttered, above her head. “He can’t hurt you anymore. I’m just glad we got him to clear your name before he died.”
Her pulse quickened as she absorbed the full implication of his words. Her name had been cleared. She could go anywhere with her head held high. She had nothing to hide anymore. She could even go back to Portland if she wanted to.
Now that it was possible, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to go back. There were too many unhappy memories there, and both Heather and she had been happy in Mellow Springs. They had built a new life, a good life, far from the evil and misery of the past.
The air was clean and smelled so pure, and life was simple in Mellow Springs. It was such a friendly town, and now that she no longer had a reason to hide her past, she would be free to make more friends.
No, she decided, with a quickening of her pulse, she didn’t really want to leave Mellow Springs and go back to Portland. There was only one reason she would go back. And that was if Blake asked her to go, to be with him. She would go anywhere in the world with him.
She raised her head to look up at him. “I never thanked you for clearing my name,” she said shakily. “I hope you know how much that means to me.”
He smiled down at her, but made no attempt to kiss her. She would have given anything for his kiss right then. “It was the least I could do. You deserve to have the truth known. I’ll make sure it’s put on public record.”
“Thank you.” She pulled back from him, and hunted in her pocket for a tissue.
Immediately he dropped his arms and moved away. The room seemed to turn suddenly cold. She watched him reach for the empty plates, trying desperately to read his expression.
“The sheriffs office is going to handle the body,” he said, as he stacked the dishes one on top of the other. “They will probably want a report from you, and they might ask you to sign the release of the body since you are a relative.”
Still avoiding her
gaze, he carried the dishes to the sink and laid them on the counter.
“All right.” She glanced over at the clock. “I’m going to take a shower. I want to go over to Darcie’s and collect my daughter. I feel as if I haven’t seen her in weeks, instead of a couple of days.”
She hesitated. Then, when he didn’t answer her she added, “Would you like to come with me? I know she’d love to see you.”
“Gail—” He looked up, and now she could see his expression.
She had seen that look of hopelessness once before, on someone else’s face. A long time ago. The day she’d been torn from the arms of Elaine Matthews.
Now Blake had that same look on his face, and she could guess what it meant. She lifted her chin, waiting for the blow to fall, determined that no matter what he told her, he wouldn’t see her cry.
Chapter 12
“I have to go back to Portland, Gail.”
“Of course.” She gave him a bright smile. “When are you leaving?”
“Right away. I need you to take me to the sheriffs office to pick up my car. I’ll stop by the hotel on my way out of town.”
She nodded, afraid to trust her voice.
Moments ticked by while he seemed to be searching for the right words. Then he added quietly, “I’m sorry, Gail. I did tell you I couldn’t make any promises.”
Her throat ached with the effort to keep her voice steady. “I understand, Blake.”
“I don’t think you do.”
Her cold fury came from nowhere, swift and uncontrollable. “I’m not totally naive. I was one of the perks that go with the job, right?”
Pain slashed across his face as if she’d slapped him. “Damn it, Gail, don’t make this any harder for me than it already is.”
“Of course not,” she said, her voice brittle. “I’ll make it easy for you. Goodbye, Mr. Foster. Thanks for a great time. It was fun while it lasted. Have a good life.”
She turned to leave, but he grabbed her from behind, his fingers gripping her arm. She tried to twist out of his grasp, but he held on, turning her so that she faced him.
Every Waking Moment Page 21