Battle of Wills

by Victoria Gordon

  There was just enough mocking contempt in his voice to snap Seana out of her confusion. 'Well, of course I can,' she cried angrily—and would have said more, but he was already thrusting the sodden fabric into her hands and kneeling to give her a leg up.

  'Well then, get up there and do it,' he roared, literally flinging her up on to the shingled roof. He used so much sheer strength in the manoeuvre that she hardly had to scramble at all; simply by letting the momentum carry her, she reached the crest and was able to balance easily with one foot on either side of the ridge-line as she carefully jammed the wet blanket into place.

  'There! Is that good enough for you?' she demanded when no single tendril of smoke could be seen to escape. It was right; she knew that. Already the stovepipe had lost some of its glow, although she wouldn't have wanted to touch it.

  'I suppose it'll have to do,' Ryan conceded, standing with hands on hips as he stared up at her.

  'Well, if you want me to change it you only have to say so,' she snapped. 'But I'd suggest you do so while I'm still up here.'

  'Okay, I'll think about it,' he replied, turning away to re-enter the cabin, emerging a moment later with both buckets swinging from his fingertips. From her high vantage point, Seana was astounded to see him strolling deliberately towards the spring, paying no attention to her plight at all.

  She didn't believe it at first, then believed it only too well as he disappeared out of sight in the edge of the jackpines.

  'Hey!' she cried angrily. 'Damn you, Ryan Stranger, you stop right there!'

  For an instant she thought he was going to just ignore her; then an indistinct shape reappeared in the trail.

  'You want something?' he called back.

  'Well, of course I want something. I want to come down from here!' she yelled.

  'Oh, is that all?' And to her amazement he turned away again, dismissing her entirely.

  'You come back!' she screamed. 'Damn you—I said come back here! You can't just walk off and leave me up here… you just can't!'

  Only he did. Not for very long, but at least until he had filled the water buckets, which were brimming when he finally stepped into view once more. By this time Seana was almost speechless with rage, but she managed to croak out yet another demand to be helped down from the roof.

  This time he merely laughed, showing her even white teeth as he looked up to where she was sitting uncomfortably astraddle the ridge.

  'You sure do get cranky,' he commented, and then walked out of sight beneath the eaves. She heard—and indeed felt—the cabin door shut behind him, but he either didn't hear her cries of anger, or more likely ignored them.

  It was at least five minutes before he returned to stand in the yard, looking up at her this time with quite undisguised amusement.

  'Yeah, I suppose we'd better get you down from there before you fall down,' he said. 'Although personally I think that's a damned good place for you; at least you can't cause any more hassles up there. Has anybody ever told you you're something of a walking disaster area, ladybug?'

  'They haven't—and I'm not,' Seana declared emphatically. 'And stop calling me that stupid name!'

  'Why? It certainly fits—especially after this little performance,' he jibed. And to her amazement, he then proceeded to quote the nursery rhyme at her:

  Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home,

  Your house is on fire and your children will burn.

  'What are you—crazy or something?' Seana raged. 'Here I am stuck on the roof and you want to quote nursery rhymes! Will you please just get me down from here?'

  'Ah, the magic word,' he cried with apparent delight. 'Now see how easy it is to say. Please! Very simple word, but it's magic.'

  'I'll give you magic!' Seana snarled—then clamped her mouth shut. Time enough to get even with this arrogant, hateful man once she had both feet safely on the ground.

  'I'll just bet you will,' he replied, walking over to stand just below the eaves at their lowest point. 'Okay, come on down.'

  Seana edged her way down along the steep, shingled surface, but when she reached the edge there was no ladder, no obvious means of further descent. Only Ryan Stranger standing with outstretched arms.

  'But…'

  'What's the matter? Afraid I won't catch you?' His jeering tones were a challenge that was really quite unnecessary. From this point, she realised with dismay, she could have jumped down by herself without his help in the first place. If she'd only known!

  'I… I can manage by myself, thank you,' she cried angrily. 'If you'd just get out of the way…'

  'No chance. Try jumping from there and you'd probably break one of those lovely legs,' he retorted. 'So for once in your life you're going to try obeying orders. Ready? One, two, three—jump!'

  And she did, squarely into arms that cushioned the shock of her landing, then locked around her waist and held her firmly imprisoned as he stared down at her.

  'See how easy it is. And it'll be even easier next time.'

  'Next time? What are you talking about?'

  He shrugged, but didn't release her. 'Just that there's bound to be a next time of some description,' he grinned. 'You're hardly safe to be left on your own.'

  'That's ridiculous,' she snapped, writhing in a vain attempt to free herself as her body began to respond to the warmth of him against her. 'Will you please let me go!'

  'No, I don't think so,' he replied. 'I'd just as soon hang on to you; this way I know exactly what kind of trouble you're likely to get into, if any.'

  Seana raised both fists and began to pound them against the rippling muscles of his shoulders, but he only laughed and pulled her tighter against him, his eyes fixed on hers with an intensity that seemed almost mesmerising.

  'I think it's about time I started collecting on some of these rainchecks,' he murmured. 'Wouldn't want to see you in debt for the rest of your life.'

  'No!' The cry escaped her lips only an instant before he claimed them with his mouth. Seana struggled against him, but she might have saved her breath; he was far too strong.

  She made herself rigid, determined to give him no response whatsoever, despite the quickening of her pulse and the sudden fire that spread from her middle to burn uncontrolled throughout her entire body.

  Ryan ignored her lack of response for a minute… or was it an hour?… kissing her lips, then running his own lips across her cheek, down the column of her neck, back to nibble teasingly at her ear.

  'You're just bound and determined to make things difficult for yourself, aren't you?' he whispered in her ear, then shifted his lips to trace lines of temptation along the line of her jaw, en route to recapture her lips.

  His fingers were no longer locked behind her back; one hand held her easily while the other caressed her, stroking up and down the ridges of her spine, tracing the contours of her shoulder-blades, rubbing liquid torment into the hollow at the small of her back.

  Then his lips became more demanding, teasing against her mouth, forcing a response without force, but instead with an expertise that defied Seana's experience. Despite her wish to remain unmoved, untouched, she felt her body coming alive, her breasts hard against his chest, her stomach fluttering and her legs losing their ability to hold her upright.

  'My God, but you're lovely,' he whispered, his breath sifting between her lips like a warm breeze of some exotic perfume.

  Her lips parted further in response to his kiss, and her arms seemed to take on a life of their own as they circled about his neck, pulling him closer to her. His beard and moustache tickled against her skin, but she felt no urge to giggle, but only to drown herself in the scent of him, the touch of his hands and body, the essence of him that was so strongly, so irresistibly male.

  All Seana's willpower, all her good intentions, disappeared like the puffs of smoke from the cooling heater. All she wanted now was to get closer to him, to feel his body against hers, within her. Her fingers slid back to pluck at the buttons of his shirt, fluttering like tiny butterf
lies across the furry, muscled chest.

  And she felt the effect it had on him, revelled in it. As his own hand slid around to open her shirt, to free her breasts to the touch of his lips, she writhed with delight, whispering his name aloud as his hands and mouth roused her to new heights, new peaks of pleasure, new and total surrender.

  And then he stopped. Not gently, easily, with any consideration for the soaring lethargy of both their passions, but abruptly, cutting off their lovemaking as if with a knife.

  'Sorry, ladybug, but this isn't getting your new home fit to live in,' he said cruelly, his eyes still smoky with passion as he held her away from him and deliberately caressed one breast in a gesture that cooled her own passions as if she'd been dunked in ice-water.

  'We'll save this for later; right now there's work to do,' he continued, and Seana recoiled from his touch, her own eyes dark now with an anger that sprang full-grown from the coals of her surrender—her total, rejected surrender.

  'You… bastard!' she hissed. 'You utter, contemptible bastard! Get out! Just get out of here and… and never come back. Never!'

  'Don't be hard to get along with,' he replied easily, obviously quite unaffected by her rage. 'If you're going to make it through the summer here, ladybug, you're going to have to learn to get your priorities straight.'

  'I have,' she snapped. 'And the first of them is to get rid of you!'

  'Ah, you don't really mean that,' he said with a grin. 'We've already established what you really want. But first things first, and first is to get this stove problem sorted out. You'll likely need it for heat, if nothing else. There'll be some damned cold nights up here before summer arrives.'

  'Are you deaf? I told you to get out,' she retorted hotly. 'Out. O.U.T.! I don't want you here; I don't need you here. I can fix the stove on my own, and anything else that needs fixing too!'

  Ryan laughed out loud, and this time his eyes held a mockery that could only be deliberate. 'There's one thing you damned well can't fix by yourself, but we'll let that go for now,' he chuckled. 'And stop being cranky, for God's sake. I didn't want to stop any more than you did.'

  Then, without warning, he grabbed her arm and dragged her over to his truck before she could think to object. 'Look at yourself,' he chided. 'Do you really want to make love looking like that? Not that I look much better, but this isn't supposed to be a chimneysweeps' convention, you know.'

  Seana peered into the truck mirror, then recoiled involuntarily at the face which stared back at her. She was covered in soot and her hair was all askew. Only her eyes seemed normal, peering from beneath grimy lids at a face that might almost have been made up for some dreadful comedy.

  She giggled. It was impossible not to, especially with Ryan's face grinning over her shoulder. And he wasn't much less filthy than Seana herself, only in his case the soot was splashed across his forehead and cheeks in bands, as if he were an Indian preparing for war.

  'See what I mean?' He laughed aloud now, and she couldn't help but laugh with him. Suddenly the thought of either of them making mad, passionate love in such a state seemed utterly ludicrous.

  'I think maybe we'd best have some coffee, then we can see about making the place liveable in,' he said, and when he reached out to guide her towards the camper door, Seana followed meekly and silently. A few minutes later she was perched beside the table inside the camper, a steaming and welcome cup of coffee in her hand.

  Sitting across from her, Ryan sat nursing his own coffee, staring down into the cup with a silent intensity that did nothing to provoke conversation. Seana sipped at the brew, feeling herself relax slightly as the liquid slid down to create a warm pleasantness inside her. She closed her eyes, reflecting on the good fortune that had brought Ryan to her mountain in time to keep her from disaster.

  Then her eyes snapped open as reality struck. 'Just what are you doing here, anyway?' she asked. 'It has to be more than coincidence that you arrived so soon after I did.'

  'Obviously,' he replied. 'I just thought I'd drop by and make sure they'd left you a cabin to stay in. I know these forestry jokers; it would never occur to any of them, bar Dick Fisher, of course, to make sure the shack hadn't burned to the ground or been struck by lightning or something.' Then he laughed. 'Although I suppose it wouldn't have occurred to them that you might burn it down yourself.'

  Again that savage, sarcastic grin, and Seana felt her nerves tauten at the blatant chauvinism.

  'Well, I hardly think it's my fault,' she replied hotly. 'How was I supposed to know the stupid chimney would catch fire? I don't even know how it caught fire.'

  'Tamarack! That naked nitwit who was here last year obviously burned off all the tamarack that they cleared when they built the helicopter pad, and of course it would never have occurred to him to clean the chimney once in a while.'

  'Tamarack? Up here?' Seana's confusion was well founded; it wasn't the type of country one would expect to find tamarack, a member of the larch family that usually grew in boggy, swampy areas.

  'Yup. There was a bit of a muskeg there where the chopper pad is now, and just enough tamarack to screw up that chimney right and proper.' Ryan snorted angrily. 'Damned stuff burns beautifully, but it makes the worst soot imaginable—builds up in the chimney and then burns again if the fire gets too hot. You're damned lucky the whole roof didn't go; I hope you realise that.'

  His tone was serious, and yet somehow lightly bantering as well, as if he were laughing at her from deep behind those pale eyes.

  'Why'd you want to use the old heater anyway?' he asked. 'Couldn't you figure out how to get the propane stove going?'

  'Of course I could. Do you think I'm completely ignorant? The reason, obviously enough, was that there isn't any propane. All the bottles are empty.'

  'Oh?' He raised one eyebrow with the question. 'And I don't suppose you looked in the generator shack?'

  Seana felt colour rising to her face as she remembered Dick Fisher's reminder that she'd likely find only empty propane cylinders outside the cabin, but that there should be at least two stored inside the tiny cubicle that held the generator that provided electricity for both the cabin and the tower.

  She wanted to answer Ryan, but couldn't think of any reply that wouldn't make her look even sillier than she did already. He was already sliding out from behind the table, casually laying his empty coffee cup in the sink as he passed.

  'I'm afraid I may have done entirely the wrong thing in Hutton's office,' he said grimly. 'You're not safe to be left alone up here, ladybug.'

  And before she could reply he was out the door and holding up his hands to help her down. 'Well, let's get at it. The sooner I get things running smoothly, the sooner I can get out of your hair.'

  She meekly handed over the keys to the generator shack at his request, and stood silent as he wrestled out a heavy propane bottle and connected it properly to the regulator. 'This should see you through a couple of weeks, anyway,' he said. 'Now let's go see if we can do something about that stovepipe, or it'll be cold on the mountain tonight.'

  With hardly another word to Seana, he gathered up a length of heavy fencing wire that was lying about, then twisted it firmly around a small bundle of old chicken mesh from beside the woodpile. He even found the rickety old ladder and used it to climb up on the roof so he could dismantle the rain cap and then thread the wire down and into the stove below.

  'Let me know when it hits bottom,' he said, and at Seana's shout he dropped easily from the roof and wrapped the free end of the wire around a short stick.

  'Now comes the fun part,' he grunted. 'I'd get out of the way if I were you, ladybug. It wouldn't surprise me to have the whole shootin' match come down in a heap.'

  Seana wouldn't have believed the mess he created. Tons, it seemed, of filthy soot and tar spewed down into the heater and out on to the cabin floor as he hauled the wire bundle down the length of the chimney.

  And when he repeated the process, as much again came tumbling like black snow from the
mouth of the heater, blackening Ryan's already dirty arms and piling up around his feet. He endured the entire performance in a silence broken only by the occasional muttered curse at the stupidity of it all, but seemed cheerful enough when he was done.

  'Right, now your work can begin,' he told her. 'And I don't envy you one little bit, despite the fact that I think you deserve some consideration.'

  The consideration, she discovered, was for Ryan to haul water while she scrubbed. Buckets and more buckets, until finally he announced that she would have to finish quickly because the spring was about to run out.

  Then he disappeared to spend the rest of the afternoon outside, tinkering with the generator, putting away the heavy plywood shutters from the windows, even scampering like some great black squirrel up the steel skeleton of the tower to ensure that everything was in order at the top.

  Seana hardly noticed his absence, she was so busy with mop and cleaning rag inside the small cabin. The filth that came from the chimney was the worst part, but mice, packrats and the former occupant had all left their indelible mark on the place.

  And so, she realised, had Ryan Stranger. It was easy enough to ignore, or pretend to ignore, his presence at the tower site, but much less easy to ignore her memory of the touch of his hands on her breasts, the taste of his lips against hers.

  But most disconcerting of all was the knowledge that had he not so brutally ended their lovemaking, it would have continued to the obvious result with no objection from Seana herself. Her body still tingled, her senses inflamed and aroused despite the physical effort of scrubbing at the filthy floor and walls and windows.

  And what of Ryan? she wondered. Was he equally sensitive to how well they had seemed to mesh, match? Or was he immune to the aftermath of such fiery passion, able because of his obvious experience to shrug aside the feelings that must accompany such a beautiful, horrible, deliberate lovemaking?

  Then suddenly he was there in the room with her. The door, flung open in a careless yet hurried gesture, crashed against the wall, sending echoes throughout the cabin.