Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set

by Sandra Marton

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Chad lifted an ancient cast iron skillet from the fireplace and set it on the table with a flourish.

  ‘Just wait until you taste this, Jessie. I think you’ll agree the chefs outdone himself.’

  ‘The chef wouldn’t be a bit prejudiced, would he?’ Jessica sank into the chair opposite him and sniffed the steam rising from the skillet. ‘No matter what you say, it looks like beans to me.’

  ‘Come on, woman,’ he said, holding out a spoonful of the stuff to her, ‘where’s your sense of adventure? Try some.’

  Dutifully, she did as he asked and then she sighed. ‘So much for the answer to the age-old riddle—what looks like beans, smells like beans, and tastes like beans?’

  'You’re hurting the chef’s feelings, Jess.’

  She smiled as she dug her spoon into the skillet. ‘Forgive me. These are lunch beans as opposed to dinner beans or breakfast beans.’

  ‘These are Beans du Jour. The ones last night were Beans de la Maison and that batch this morning were an old O’Bryan specialty—Beans Ranchero.’

  Jessica swallowed a mouthful of the brownish concoc­tion and nodded wisely. ‘I see. And what, pray tell, was the difference between them?’

  Chad shrugged modestly. ‘A dollop of ketchup, some molasses from that jug we found in the general store, and a lot of imagination.’

  She smiled as she broke off a piece of cold bannock. ‘Three cheers for the general store,’ she said, dipping the bannock into the skillet. ‘And three more for whoever taught you to cook. Don’t let it go to your head, doctor, but this trail bread’s not bad.’

  ‘Just wait until tonight when you finally taste what I can do with rainbow trout.’ He spooned up a mouthful of beans and chewed them carefully. ‘Not bad, if I say so myself. My dad would be proud of me.’

  ‘Was he the one who taught you to cook? Remind me to drop him a note of thanks when we get out of here.'

  ‘It was self-preservation on his part. Ranch cooks used to come and go; I guess he got tired of being the back-up cook for us and the ranch hands. He taught me to lasso a calf and make stew at about the same time. By the time I was ten, I could find my way around a kitchen as easily as around a corral.’

  ‘It must be awful to lose your mother when you’re little.’

  Chad shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t remember any other kind of life,’ he said truthfully. ‘The only time it made things rough was when I decided I wanted to specialize in wildlife biology. It meant spending a lot of time in the natural habitat of whatever species you’re studying—and I felt kind of guilty about leaving my dad on his own.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘But it worked out. He met my stepmother about then. Not that he’d have said anything to me. I guess it’s rough for parents when a kid leaves home.’

  . ‘When I said I was moving to New York, you’d have thought the end of the world had arrived.’

  ‘Well, it had,’ Chad laughed. ‘I agree there. Why on earth would anyone want to live in a city?’

  ‘That’s exactly what my folks said. But New York’s the hub of everything. Well, I guess Chicago was closer, but all my life I dreamed about Manhattan—you know, having a loft in Soho and having a show of my photos at a Greenwich Village gallery.’

  “’If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere,”’ he said. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?’

  Chad shrugged. ‘Maybe. I guess it depends on what you want out of life. I just can’t picture you spending the rest of yours photographing under­nourished models wearing stuff that looks like Hallow­een costumes.’

  For an instant, Jessica’s eyes narrowed and then she let out a sighing breath.

  ‘You know something? I can’t picture it either.’

  Chad grinned as he mopped up the last of the beans with a piece of bannock. ‘For a minute there, I thought I was going to get another lecture about the fashion business.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not knocking it. After all, this job’s been interesting. I’ve flown to some great places.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ he said wryly, ‘you must love that!’

  She grinned at him and then licked her spoon clean. ‘Well, the flying part isn’t, but I manage. And I’ve gotten to watch some pretty good photographers at work. I’ve learned more in the past couple of years than I could have in any photography course.’ She tilted her head to one side and gave him an appraising look. ‘You know what would be great?’

  ‘‘Something other than beans for lunch?’

  Jessica laughed and pushed her plate away. ‘I was thinking that maybe you could give me some pointers about animal photography. I got some great shots at the Bronx Zoo but I know I missed some things.’

  'That's one place we'd never have met,' Chad said decisively. 'I don't believe in zoos.'

  'Zoos help save species that are dying out.'

  He gave a grudging nod.

  'Okay. But in general, I'm not in favor of animals kept in cages no matter the size of the cage.’

  'No, I'm not, either.' A faint smile touched her lips. 'But how else would I have ever seen the most gorgeous wolf cubs a few months back… What?'

  ‘Wolves are my specialty. I'm working on a theory of pack structure ...’

  ‘Wolves? You study them? Where?'

  Are you telling me you study wolves at the Bronx Zoo?’

  ‘Wherever they live. In Alaska and Yosemite and Isle Royale…'

  'That's wonderful! I have some photos I'd love you to see, pictures of the pups playing…'

  'I'd love to see them—once we get out of here.'

  Reality, again.

  Jessica nodded.

  'Chad?’ She put down her spoon and looked across the table at him. ‘Are we trapped here?’ she asked quietly. ‘We haven’t talked about it, but you know my ankle’s fine now and you still haven’t said anything about moving on.’

  ‘I keep hoping for a break in the weather. But each time it stops snowing, the clouds build up over the mountain and a new front moves in. There’s no way of telling how much snow’s going to fall, Jessie, and if we were on the mountain when a heavy storm hit...’ He reached for her hand and covered it with his. ‘At least here we have shelter and food and firewood.’

  ‘Yes, but... well, no matter how we joke, the beans won’t last forever. And that fireplace consumes more dead branches than any human being could collect once the weather gets colder. And it will get colder, won’t it?’

  ‘Yeah, a little,’ he said, thinking of the sub-zero winters in these mountains, and the endless snow. ‘But if hermits can manage, so can we. The creek’s full of fish and I can set snares for rabbits and squirrels, and tell you they’re sirloin steaks and chicken...’ She gave him a hesitant smile and his hand tightened on hers. ‘We’ll be fine, Jess. I promise.’

  She sighed and touched her finger to a piece of bannock. ‘I’ve never felt so... so cut off from the world. I’m just grateful my folks are on vacation. Imagine how awful it would be if they were worrying about me.’ A furrow appeared between her eyes as she looked at Chad. ‘You really don’t think they could have heard about the crash?’

  ‘When a light plane goes down with two people on board, it doesn’t make much more than the local papers.’

  ‘But there’ll still be search parties looking for us, won’t there?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said with more enthusiasm than he felt. His eyes searched hers. ‘Hey,’ he said lightly, ‘is this what an all-bean diet leads to?’ A smile flitted across her face and quickly vanished. ‘Or is it M&M withdrawal that caused this serious case of the blahs?’

  To his relief, her smile broadened. ‘I’ve been meaning to bring that up,’ she said. ‘If you’re so great at survival techniques, how come you haven’t snared me a handful of them?’

  ‘I'm holding out for Reese's Pieces.'

  She laughed and the tension flowed out of her face. ‘You know, cowboy, if I had to find my
self stranded like this, I’m glad it’s with you.’

  ‘I was just thinking the same thing, Jessie. There’s nobody I’d rather be here with.’

  The laughter was gone in an instant, chased away by the caressing sound in Chad’s voice. Jessica’s eyes lifted to his; the message she saw in their hazel depths made the breath catch in her throat.

  ‘Jessie ...’

  She pulled her hand free of his and got to her feet, almost stumbling as she pushed her chair back from the table. The air between them was suddenly thick with tension as it had been all too often in the past couple of days.

  She told herself she knew the reason for it.

  After all, they were trapped in an enforced intimacy that had intensified normal feelings and reactions. That was all it was. That was all it could be…

  Be honest with yourself, Jessica!

  The truth went deeper than that.

  If she gave in to what she wanted, what they both wanted, she would miss him forever once this was over… And it had to be that way, didn't it? Their worlds would never, ever cross, and to hell with all that nonsense about the Staten Island ferry.

  She heard him push away from the table and she moved quickly towards the fireplace.

  ‘Jessie,’ he said again.

  ‘I mean, if I had to pick a man to be lost in the wilderness with,’ she said in a brightly pitched voice, ‘I’d certainly pick someone who knew all about survival…'

  ‘Damn it, Jessie,’ he said, ‘that’s not what I meant.’

  ‘I’ll always be grateful to you,’ she said, fighting against the desire to turn and wrap her arms around him. ‘Always.’

  Her words brought him to a dead stop, just as she'd wanted.

  That was what she wanted, wasn't it?

  The stool clattered as he pushed it aside. ‘I’m going down to the creek,’ he said. ‘It may take a while to catch our dinner.’

  Jessica spun around. His words were simple, but there was a rawness to them that almost broke her heart.

  ‘Chad?' He swung toward her. 'Chad…' She cleared her throat. ‘I... I’m really looking forward to those trout,’ she said finally.

  ‘Great,’ he mumbled, pulling on his jacket. 'Yes,’ she said, eager to dissipate the sudden tension in the cabin, ‘in fact, if you catch some, I’ll do the cooking tonight. I can make a mean trout amandine.'

  She waited. And waited. Finally, he smiled.

  'Well, I can provide the trout. You're on your own for the almonds.' He paused. 'So, you like to cook?'

  'Truth is, I don’t do much cooking.'

  'Yeah.' His expression changed. 'There must be guys lined up ten deep outside your door, fighting for the chance to take you to dinner.’

  ‘No,’ she said, so quickly that she startled both of them. ‘I mean, I usually order in. Chinese. Thai. Indian…'

  Chad’s eyes met hers. ‘Really? What’s the matter with those New York guys, anyway?’

  She smiled slowly. ‘Nothing, I guess. I—I just haven’t found anybody who...’ Her words trailed off and she cleared her throat. ‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘Is there—is there somebody special who treats you to home-cooked meals when you get back from the snowy wastes of Alaska?’

  ‘No,’ he said simply, ‘there’s nobody.’ They looked at each other and then he smiled. ‘And you’d better not let an Alaskan hear you say that. It’s not the end of the world, you know.’

  ‘It is, to me. Endless snow…’

  ‘But it’s not all like that,’ he said quickly. ‘Parts of it are primitive, yes, but the mountains are beautiful, and the tundra is…' He shook his head. 'Besides, there are towns and cities.’

  ‘New York is a city,’ she answered. ‘Anything else is an impostor.’

  He scowled. ‘Have you ever tried living any place else?’

  ‘Why would I want to? No other place has New York’s facilities or its opportunities.’

  ‘Or its pollution or its crime rate or its crowds.’

  ‘There’s not a city in the world that doesn’t have those things.’

  ‘Exactly!’

  Just listen to him, she thought. So all-knowing. So arrogant. So—so pompously self-assured.

  It made her angry. Hell, it made her furious. Couldn’t he even imagine some other kind of life?

  ‘So much for all the cities of the world,’ she said. 'They're nice places to visit but you wouldn’t want to live in one. ‘Is that pretty much it?’

  ‘If you understood my work, Jessie, you’d realize that I have to be in the field. I’m not a lab man. That’s not my thing...’

  ‘Am I right?’ she demanded because suddenly, his answer mattered.

  'Yes,' he said sharply, 'I guess you are.'

  Anger and something else, something she didn't want to identify, filled her.

  She swung away from him, poured some hot water into the skillet, and started scrubbing it clean.

  ‘I thought you were going to catch some trout,’ she said. ‘Isn't it getting kind of late?'

  There was a silence. Then Chad spoke.

  'Yes,' he said, his voice taut with anger, ‘it sure as hell is. Remember to keep that fire built up.’

  ‘Don’t worry about a thing,’ she said coolly. ‘Take your time.’

  The door slammed shut and she dropped the cleaning cloth and sat down at the table.

  What a senseless argument!

  Had she expected him to say, ‘I’m going to change my whole life, now that I’ve met you, Jessie? If you’re in New York, I will be, too.’

  ‘Damn!’ she said, getting to her feet and pacing the cabin.

  Maybe this was cabin fever, for real. If only they could get out of here. If only they hadn’t been trapped by a snowstorm.

  Of course, Chad didn’t call it that. In fact, he’d laughed at her when she made the pronounce­ment the day before.

  ‘This isn’t a snowstorm, Jess,’ he’d said, coming to stand beside her in the open doorway. ‘That’s only about six inches of snow out there.’

  ‘You’re right,’ she’d agreed solemnly, staring at the blowing snow. ‘It’s not a storm, it’s a blizzard.’

  He’d smiled and slipped his arm lightly around her shoulders. ‘Maybe in New York. Here, it’s nothing but a dusting. Beautiful, isn’t it?’

  She'd had to admit he was right.

  ‘That ridge looks as if someone sprinkled it with sugar. I can hardly wait to get outside with my camera. I want to walk up to the top.’

  ‘You won’t have time.’

  ‘Sure I will. It’s early—we have lots of daylight left.’

  He'd shaken his head. ‘You can’t be out more than ten minutes.’'

  ‘Come on, Chad, what are you talking about? It’ll take me that long just to get to the ridge.’

  ‘Ten minutes,’ he'd repeated. ‘If you don’t agree to that, you can’t go out at all.’

  She'd stepped back and stared at him.

  'Is this a joke?'

  ‘You can’t go out for long wearing sneakers. And you haven’t got enough warm clothing.’

  ‘Of course I have. I look like a—like a dumpling in all these layers but I’m warm enough.’

  ‘I don’t want you to get cold and wet, Jess.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, you sound like my mother!'

  ‘Ten minutes,’ he'd said gruffly. ‘That’s it.’

  ‘You’re letting your title go to your head, doctor. You’re not a medical man, you know.’

  ‘I know about the cold. You don't.'

  Jessica had pulled on all her layers of clothing by then.

  'Excuse me,’ she'd said politely. ‘Would you just step aside?’

  Chad's answer had been to shut the door and lean back against it, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  ‘I didn’t hear your answer. Ten minutes. Yes or no?'

  ‘I'm going outside,' she'd said. 'Understand?'

  ‘Sure,’ he'd said, with a little smile. ‘You can do whateve
r you like—once you get past me.’

  She'd stared at him, knowing the argument was ridiculous, knowing, too, that everything he’d said made sense.

  The snow was deep and it would be stupid to get wet and chilled to the bone, especially since they had nothing more therapeutic than a handful of aspirin.

  Her eyes had met his and she'd drawn in her breath. There was something about his narrowed gaze and lazy smile that made her pulse beat quicken, something that made her want to defy him, to push him past the bonds of propriety.

  She'd reached for the doorknob. His hand had shot out and curled around her wrist.

  A thrill of excitement had raced through her.

  ‘I can take care of myself.’

  ‘You’re not behaving as if you can.’

  ‘What gives you the right...?’

  ‘I care about you,’ he'd said, his voice rough with anger. ‘That gives me the right. Damn it, Jessie, will you listen?’

  ‘No,’ she'd said, ‘no, I won’t.’

  ‘You will, even if I have to make you!’

  The thrill had coursed through her again. ‘That’s right,’ she'd said, trying to twist free of him. ‘Prove how big and tough you are. I forgot you were an expert in western macho. I forgot...’

  He had cursed, pulled her forward, and her body had pressed against his.

  Suddenly they were both still, shocked into immobility by the unexpected, electric contact, and then his arms had closed around her and his mouth captured hers.

  Her hands had lifted between them, pushing ineffec­tually against his chest; then, with a speed that took her breath away, Jessica had sunk into his embrace, just as she had the other times he’d taken her in his arms, only this time she wanted the feeling to go on forever.

  It was only when she felt his arms tightening around her like bands of steel, only when her lips parted in urgent response to the increasing demand of his, that she suddenly knew she had to pull free of his embrace if she were to keep from falling into a velvet abyss from which there might be no return.

  It had taken all her strength to pull her mouth from his. The sound of their ragged breathing had filled the small room.

  ‘That wasn’t fair,’ she'd whispered.