Night Heat

by Anne Mather

  Her muscles contracted only a few yards farther on, and this time the pain attacked her ankle as well. Already weakened as she was by the cold, which seemed to be spreading to every extremity of her body, the injured ankle was a natural casualty. Her foot felt frozen, the toes locked in agony, and she threshed about frantically, striving for stability.

  Jeff was shouting again—at least, she thought he was. Or maybe the voices she could hear were in her head. She wasn’t absolutely sure of anything at that moment. It was taking every ounce of strength she possessed to keep herself afloat. If only it wasn’t so cold, she thought despairingly. The numbing chill that was gripping her was taking her will to save herself away …

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AN HOUR and a half later, Sara faced Doctor Haswell’s reproving gaze from the comfort of her bed. Her teeth had only just stopped chattering, and in spite of the warmth of the night, the bed was packed with blankets and hot water bottles.

  ‘Well, that was a silly think to do, Sara,’ he said, folding his stethoscope away, but although his expression was reproachful, nothing could hide the twinkle in his eyes. ‘You could have drowned! If Jeff hadn’t been there, watching you …’

  ‘But he was there, wasn’t he?’ mumbled Sara, shivering as she remembered those awful moments in the water. ‘I’ll never be able to thank him enough. I thought I was going to die!’

  ‘It was a distinct possibility,’ said Doctor Haswell sharply. ‘You were practically unconscious when they pulled you out of the water. Still, I suppose we ought to be thankful. You certainly achieved something tonight!’

  She trembled. ‘Is—is he all right?’

  ‘Jeff?’ Doctor Haswell grimaced. ‘Well, he’s lucky to be alive too.’

  ‘I know. But is he all right? Will this make any difference to him?’

  ‘All the difference in the world, I should think,’ remarked Doctor Haswell drily. ‘Jeff used his legs tonight, Sara. He actually managed to use them to keep you both afloat. He’s proved that with time—and effort—he may eventually walk again.’

  Sara caught her breath. ‘I can’t believe it!’

  ‘I think we all feel that way.’ Doctor Haswell gave her a rueful smile. ‘After all these months without hope, none of us can take it in.’

  ‘But—how did he get into the water?’

  ‘He overturned his chair on to the sand, and dragged himself down the beach.’ Doctor Haswell shook his head. ‘He was desperate. He could see you were in difficulties, but he couldn’t make anyone in the house hear. Thank God Link arrived as he did, or we might have had two tragedies on our hands!’

  She blinked. ‘Link—Link’s here!’

  ‘How do you think they got you out of the water?’

  She put up a trembling hand to her temple. ‘But—I thought—Jeff——’

  ‘Jeff managed to reach you and keep your head above water, but he didn’t have the strength to get you back to shore. The tide was too strong. It was carrying you out. I guess that was how you got into difficulties in the first place.’

  Sara stared at him. ‘I had no idea …’

  ‘No. Well, as I said a few moments ago, you were virtually unconscious when Link reached you. I doubt if you have the ability to distinguish between Jeff and his father.’

  She absorbed this new development with some apprehension. ‘And is he—is Link, I mean—is he very angry?’

  ‘Angry?’ Doctor Haswell looked surprised. ‘No, I wouldn’t say he was angry. Impatient, perhaps. Concerned, definitely. But not angry.’

  ‘But doesn’t he blame me?’ Sara shifted a little anxiously. ‘I mean if I hadn’t gone swimming——’

  ‘Which I understand you do every evening.’

  ‘—Jeff would never have risked his life.’

  ‘Or discovered his own abilities,’ he reminded her gently. ‘Sometimes it takes something like this to make the breakthrough. Jeff knows that. And so does Link.’

  Sara quivered. ‘I don’t remember much beyond the point when Jeff reached me. I remember him talking to me, telling me it was going to be all right. But I was so cold …’

  ‘The first stages of hypothermia,’ said Doctor Haswell grimly. ‘You’re lucky to be alive, and that’s what matters. Believe me, Link’s pretty pleased about that.’

  Sara’s tongue circled her upper lip. ‘Will—will you thank him for me? Will you thank both of them?’

  ‘I think you’re going to be able to thank him yourself,’ said the doctor drily. ‘He’s waiting for me to finish my examination, and then he wants to see you. But don’t be alarmed, he’s not looking for a fight.’

  Sara wondered. She also remembered that he had not planned to get here until tomorrow. Thank God he had, she thought fervently. For all their sakes!’

  The tap at the door a moment later took Doctor Haswell across the floor to answer it. ‘Oh come in, Link,’ Sara heard him say warmly, and she hunched the covers beneath her chin as he walked towards the bed.

  She could imagine how she must look to him, she thought unhappily. With her hair roughly dried and caught back with an elastic band, and her face still white and exhausted. Why was she destined to face him at a disadvantage? she fretted. If only once in her life she could have the upper hand.

  ‘Hello, Sara.’

  She looked up when he spoke to her, and she was surprised to see he looked a little less assured than usual. Maybe his strenuous swim had taken something out of him, too. Or was it something else? Michelle’s proposed marriage, for example?

  In any event, his black shirt and matching pants had taken every ounce of colour out of his face, and if he was excited about his son’s unexpected bravery, it wasn’t evident. He looked exhausted, drained; and his hand was not quite steady as he pushed back his still-damp hair.

  ‘Hello,’ Sara answered, as Doctor Haswell paused in the open doorway.

  ‘I’ll see you two later,’ he said, as if aware that his presence was superfluous, and Lincoln lifted his head and nodded his thanks as he halted beside the bed.

  ‘So,’ he said, as the door closed behind the physician, ‘how do you feel?’

  ‘Um—warm,’ said Sara awkwardly, indicating the layer of blankets on the bed. ‘I—er—I don’t know how to thank you. Between you—you and Jeff—you saved my life!’

  ‘Thank God!’ said Lincoln heavily, and much to her surprise, he sank down on to the side of the bed. ‘God, you don’t know what I went through when I saw you two out there. I’ve had some bad moments in my time, but that must have been the worst!’

  ‘I’m sorry——’

  ‘You’re sorry?’ He stared at her unsmilingly. ‘What did I tell you about swimming at that time of night?’

  ‘I know.’ She avoided his eyes. ‘I was stupid! Don’t worry, I won’t do it again.’

  ‘You won’t.’ Lincoln drew a steadying breath. ‘After this little escapade, I’ll see to that. Even if I have to leave orders to that effect.’

  ‘All right.’

  Sara was beginning to feel that Doctor Haswell had been a little optimistic in his assessment of Lincoln’s reaction. He had said Lincoln wasn’t angry, but he was. She could feel it. And what was more, he resented the danger she had represented to his son.

  ‘Do you realise what could have happened if I hadn’t turned up as I did?’

  ‘Of course I realise it.’

  ‘You were frozen!’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘Whatever possessed you to go out so far?’

  ‘I didn’t go that far.’ Sara sniffed. ‘The tide must have carried me out.’

  ‘Thank God Jeff was there.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He was a bloody marvel!’

  She trembled. ‘I know.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Lincoln seemed to gather himself, ‘you’re alive, and that’s what matters. Anything else doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  ‘No.’

  He took a breath. ‘So—you’ll know what’s happened,
not just today, but during the past couple of weeks, puts a different light on Jeff’s situation.’

  Sara stiffened. ‘It does?’

  ‘Of course. Jeff’s whole attitude has changed. In January, Haswell’s hoping he’ll agree to go to a rehabilitation centre in California. They’ve had some pretty good results in recent years, and now that Jeff’s willing to co-operate …’

  ‘I see.’ She knew the words were inadequate, but the pain she felt inside her made anything more impossible.

  ‘You approve, don’t you?’ he asked, and realising he must not suspect her real feelings, she nodded.

  ‘Of course.’ She cleared her throat in an effort to dispel the quavery note from her voice. ‘That’s wonderful news.’

  ‘Is it?’ He frowned. ‘So why do I get the impression you’re not too happy about it?’ And when she persisted in evading the penetration of his gaze, he captured her chin between his fingers and turned her face towards him. ‘Come on! What’s wrong? You look like you’re going to cry. Aren’t you happy for him?’

  ‘Don’t be silly!’ With an effort, she escaped his hands and turned her head away. ‘If I seem—wishy-washy, it’s because I’m tired. It has been an—exhausting day.’

  ‘Don’t I know it?’ Lincoln spoke vehemently. ‘Sara, you were unconscious when I took you from the water. For heaven’s sake, I thought you were dead!’

  She swallowed. ‘Well, I’m not. And—and I do realise what it means so far as Jeff is concerned——’

  ‘I’m not talking about Jeff now,’ said Lincoln grimly. ‘I’m talking about you! And God help me, if you don’t look at me soon, you may wish you had drowned out there!’

  Sara’s breath caught in her throat at his words, and almost involuntarily she turned her head on the pillow. In the light from the lamp burning on the bureau, she caught a strange glimpse of some naked torment in his eyes, but then, without another word, he got abruptly to his feet.

  ‘I’d better go,’ he said, and now he avoided her eyes as he walked towards the door. ‘Sleep well!’ he added, his voice terse and strained. ‘No doubt we’ll talk again in the morning.’

  ‘Wait!’ Now it was Sara’s turn to prolong his visit. ‘I—er—I thought you said you weren’t coming until tomorrow,’ she offered pointlessly. ‘Isn’t that what you told me?’

  ‘I changed my mind—thank God!’ His voice was flat now. ‘Okay?’

  ‘Because of the weather?’ she persisted, and as she turned, the covers exposed the narrow straps of her nightgown.

  ‘The weather had nothing to do with it,’ retorted Lincoln shortly, propping his shoulder against the door. ‘I came because I wanted to be here. For the first time in years, Orchid Key is not somewhere to avoid.’

  ‘Oh!’ Sara felt the faint surge of excitement she had experienced when he said the weather had had nothing to do with his early arrival subside. ‘Does that mean you and Jeff are friends again?’

  He sighed. ‘Is that all that matters to you?’ he demanded. ‘That Jeff and I should become friends?’

  She hesitated. ‘It is important.’

  ‘Oh, I agree. Goddammit, do you think I don’t want to be friends with my own flesh and blood?’

  ‘I don’t know, do I?’ she muttered, burrowing back beneath the covers. If she wasn’t careful, this conversation was going to deteriorate into another argument, and right now she didn’t think she could take it.

  There was silence for so long, she became half convinced he must have left without her notice. But when she eventually permitted herself a glance over her shoulder she saw he was still there, propped against the panels.

  ‘All right,’ he said at last, straightening to walk back to the bed, ‘I guess I’ll have to tell you, won’t I? Okay.’ He lifted his shoulders. ‘The reason I—I threw Jeff out, all those years ago, was that Michelle—Michelle told me I wasn’t his father.’

  Sara was stunned. ‘But you are!’

  ‘I know that now,’ said Lincoln wearily. ‘I didn’t then.’

  ‘But how could you doubt——?’

  ‘Quite easily,’ he said bitterly. ‘Jeff was six weeks premature. I didn’t think anything about it at the time, but later on, Michelle used that to convince me that Jeff wasn’t my son.’

  ‘Oh, Link!’ Sara was appalled, and she was hardly aware that she had used his name in her anguish. ‘But—how——?’

  ‘There were men,’ said Lincoln flatly. ‘It was a reasonable assumption that one of them had been Jeff’s father. Michelle wanted to hurt me, and she knew of no better way.’

  Sara caught her lower lip between her teeth. She wanted to ask if he had loved his wife. She wanted to ask about their marriage, but of course she couldn’t. He was not telling her these things because he cared for her; he was simply satisfying her curiosity about his relationship with his son. But that was something she could ask him.

  ‘The accident,’ she said. ‘I suppose when Jeff had the accident, Michelle had to tell you——’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t quite like that,’ said Lincoln heavily, pushing his hands into his trousers pockets. ‘Jeff needed a blood transfusion, and they didn’t have a donor. It turned out he and I share a fairly rare blood group, so Michelle was forced to contact me.’

  Sara moved her head against the pillow. ‘And that was when——’

  ‘Yes.’ Lincoln’s jaw compressed. ‘That was when I learned I’d wasted twelve years of my son’s life.’

  ‘You hadn’t wasted them. Michelle had!’

  He heaved a sigh. ‘I should have had more sense than to believe her. My God, for months I was tormented by the look on Jeff’s face when I told him he was leaving. I ruined everything. Who knows, if it wasn’t for me, Jeff might have never had the accident.’

  ‘That’s not true!’ Compelled by a force stronger than herself, Sara pushed herself upright in the bed, uncaring that the cool night air was chilling her flesh, and bringing a wave of goose bumps to cover her skin. ‘Link, Michelle took Jeff away. It’s she who is to blame.’

  ‘I think you’d better lie down,’ said Link, avoiding a direct answer. Coming closer to the bed, he bent to draw the covers up to her shoulders. ‘You don’t want to risk pneumonia,’ he added, waiting for her to settle back against the pillows. ‘Now you know the truth, you can’t stop speculating—hmm?’

  Sara sighed. ‘I’m all right.’ She touched his hand as it rested against the quilt. ‘Um—thank you for telling me.’

  ‘Sara!’

  There was an element of impatience in his voice now, and although she was far from satisfied with the situation, she obediently subsided against the pillows. Link tucked the covers about her, avoiding her eyes as he did so, but as he was about to straighten up, she found her voice again.

  ‘Did you—did you love her?’ she asked huskily, unable to prevent the words, and with a muffled groan he sank down on to the bed again.

  ‘Sara, Sara,’ he muttered, ‘This is neither the time nor the place for us to have this conversation.’

  She swallowed. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’m still suffering the after-effects of what almost happened this evening,’ he retorted thickly. His hand brushed the curve of her cheek and then withdrew. ‘You almost died tonight, Sara. I need to come to terms with that before I can offer you an unemotional explanation.’

  ‘So you did love her,’ she said unevenly. ‘I thought you must have. You’re not the sort of person——’

  ‘Will you be quiet?’ His hand moved to cover her mouth, and then, as if unable to withstand the need to touch her, he cupped her face between his palms. ‘I married Michelle because I thought I loved her,’ he told her emotively. ‘Within six months I’d realised my mistake. I don’t think she ever loved me. What I had mistakenly assumed was affection was nothing more than a desperate attempt to save her father from prison. The old man was a lawyer, and he’d been defrauding his clients for years. Michael Steinbeck warned me that she—and her mother—would do any
thing to get the charges dropped. I didn’t believe him. Not immediately, anyway. By the time I did, Jeff was on the way, and I was foolish enough to hope that a child might make all the difference.’

  ‘Oh, Link!’

  Sara’s lips trembled, and as if unable to resist the temptation, he lowered his head and stilled their tremor with his mouth.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered after a moment, when his uneven breath was moistening the curves and hollows of her ears. ‘I did warn you not to press me tonight. Nerves have a habit of manifesting themselves in so many different ways, and right now I’m not exactly in control.’

  ‘Link——’

  ‘No, listen to me,’ he insisted, drawing back so that he could look into her face. ‘There’s something else I want to say to you. Something I want to ask you. I was going to wait until you were up and about again, but what the hell! Tonight must be my night for confession.’

  ‘To ask me?’ Sara quivered.

  ‘Yes.’ Link sighed. ‘I have a—proposition to put to you. I don’t want you to answer me tonight. I want you to think about it very carefully before you give me your reply.’

  ‘A proposition?’ Her heart was pounding. Was it possible? Oh, God, she hoped so!

  ‘As you know,’ Link began, ‘we’re all hoping that Jeff will go to California in January, which means—well, your job here will be finished, right?’

  ‘Right.’ Sara could scarcely voice the word.

  ‘So,’ Link was smoothing her cheeks with his thumbs, but she thought he was scarcely aware of doing so, ‘when that time comes, when Jeff doesn’t need you any more, I want you to come to New York.’ He hesitated. ‘To work for me.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE PHONE was ringing as Sara came into the flat, and she kicked off her shoes as she went to answer it. Her feet were aching with the effort of walking from one job interview to another, and the weakness in her ankle had never felt more pronounced.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, picking up the receiver, and she could hear the lacklustre quality of her voice. It was probably the reason why she had failed half a dozen interviews already this week, she reflected wryly. Nobody wanted a secretary who showed so little enthusiasm for the job.