by Jane Toombs
He sat in the rocker to give Heidi the bottle and marveled at how trustingly she nestled against him. She no longer complained when, instead of Victoria, he changed or fed her—she knew him. It warmed his heart.
Apparently he did have one, despite the many times he’d been accused of being heartless. That went with his job. Which reminded him of Malengo. He and Victoria and Heidi would be hiking down to Hanksville tomorrow with Joker—he’d call the agency to see if anything was new.
How long they stayed up here at the cabin depended on how fast the agency could come up with something on Malengo. If only he’d been able to get to Kim before she died. Not only for a final farewell but because he was sure she fled from that slimy bastard after discovering something she couldn’t accept. He believed she’d have told him what it was if he’d been there.
Kim had apparently trusted Victoria, though. Why hadn’t she told Victoria whatever it was she wanted to pass on to him? Actually she had said something odd. Unfair day. Cold. Which didn’t make sense.
Holding the baby up to burp her, Steve let Kim’s last words echo in his mind, then closed his eyes and repeated them aloud, running them together to see if they sounded any different. Intent on what he was doing, he didn’t realize Victoria had come out of her bedroom and was standing beside him until she spoke.
“That’s what Kim said!” she cried. “Only, you make it sound different. It sounds like one fair day instead of unfair day.”
His eyes popped open. “My God!” he exclaimed. “Oni Farraday! ”
Victoria stared at him. “What’s that mean?”
“It’s a person. Kim gave you a person’s name.”
Her blank look told him she still didn’t understand. Just as well she’d never heard the name before. The agency certainly knew Oni.
“Cold,” he muttered. “Gold? Code?”
“You want words that sound like cold? How about coat? Colt?”
“Colt might do it. She raises horses—Arabians. But it still doesn’t quite fit.” He rose and handed Victoria the baby. “I’ve got to work this out.”
By the time Willa arrived for lunch, Steve still hadn’t found a solution that satisfied him. Preoccupied, he sat down at the table, letting Victoria and Willa do the talking until Willa addressed him directly.
“I hear you got a sister in Nevada,” she said. “Whereabouts?”
“Near Reno.”
“How’s the climate there? These mountain winters are getting to me and I figure maybe the West’d suit me.”
“It’s a high desert climate,” he said. “Fairly dry, some snow in the winter, not much. Lots of sun.”
Willa nodded. “Figure there must be rattlers, then.”
“Yes, though I’ve never seen one.”
“Sounds good for these old bones. Lots of empty space around, I’ll bet, so a body wouldn’t have to live cheek by jowl with others.”
“Plenty of space,” he assured her. “Real estate’s not cheap, though.”
Willa grinned. “Don’t you worry none about me. Got a bit socked away, earning interest. Could swing it if I decide to. I can always go find me a few Nevada snakes if I run short.”
“What would you do with the ones you have in cages here?” Victoria asked. “Turn them loose?”
“Yup. They’ve done well by me, earned their freedom a hundred times over. Reckon my old mama cat’ll welcome more sun as much as me.”
Steve decided Willa would take to Nevada just fine—she’d fit right in. “I’ll ask my sister to send you some information about the area,” he said.
“Got me a post office box in Hanksville, just down the mountain, number’s seventy, like me.”
Watching Steve scribble the number on what looked like a business card triggered a sudden realization in Victoria. She’d forgotten about her own mail. She didn’t get all that much since she used direct bank deposit plus withdrawal for bills, but by now her apartment mailbox was probably stuffed.
A good thing they were hiking down to Hanksville tomorrow, she’d pop the mailbox key in an envelope with a note to her neighbor Alice across the hall, asking her to collect the mail for the time being.
“Thank you kindly,” Willa told Steve. “That’s right neighborly of you.”
“That’s my specialty,” he said, “finding other people to do the work.”
“Don’t hardly think so,” Willa said. “You strike me as a man who doesn’t trust others to do for you.”
“She’s got you pegged,” Victoria said, laughing.
Steve shrugged. “Any idea why they named the village Hanksville?” he asked Willa.
“I figure they must’ve run out of Algonquin and Dutch names. I got both kinds in my background. Some of my ancestors were already here to begin with and the others got here early on. This mountain I live on—you, too, for now—was where a bunch of one set of ancestors massacred another set. Bloody times, back then.”
“Long ago,” Victoria said.
Willa nodded. “’Cept I got an uneasy feeling something’s brewing.” She eyed Steve assessingly. “You know anything about that?”
He shook his head. “Safe as being in your mother’s arms up here nowadays.”
“Could be we’re just in for some bad weather,” Willa conceded. “One trouble with hunches—you never can pin ’em down for sure.”
Victoria, who’d never had a hunch, smiled at her and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so safe in my entire life.”
After Willa left, Steve helped Victoria clean up, surprising her. He’d done the same last night. Maybe he’d just gotten into the habit because he’d had to give her a hand after she’d hurt her shoulder. Whatever the reason, she appreciated it.
“Good lunch,” he said. “Willa’s a sharp old bird. Talk about pegging—I had her all wrong. I can see why you like her. Don’t often make a mistake about people, but I did with her.”
“Maybe it’s ’cause you got into the habit of keeping to yourself since you and Kim separated.”
“Most hermits are born, not made, my clever little analyst. I’ve never been Mr. Gregarious.”
She tried to picture Steve working a party like Jordan used to, slapping men on the shoulder, telling jokes, hugging women and flirting with them. Impossible ! She began to giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
She tried to tell him, but couldn’t stop laughing. “Thank heaven you’re not like Jordan the Jerk,” she finally managed to say.
“Who’s he?”
“A doctor I used to know.”
“He move away? Get sick and die?”
Victoria hit him on the arm. “You know what I mean.”
“Not really.” He took her hand and led her past Heidi, sleeping in the cradle, and out the front door to where the two Adirondack chairs angled toward one another. “Sit down and tell me why I’m not like Jordan the Jerk and why you don’t know him anymore.”
From the spruce behind her chair, a chickadee warbled its distinctive notes. A cool breeze sifted through the branches of the pines alongside the cabin, diluting the sun’s warmth to just right. No one could ask for a more perfect afternoon. Joker came around from the back, trailing his rope again, and put his head on Steve’s knee.
“Escape artist,” Steve muttered, scratching him behind the ears before fixing his attention on Victoria again. “Well?”
She’d come to a decision. “I won’t say a word unless we swap confidences. If I tell you about Jordan, you have to tell me something in return. About Kim, maybe.” She knew she was taking a chance on upsetting him by mentioning Kim, but he should talk more about her.
“A bargain, is it?”
“Or nada.”
“If I can choose my time, I agree.”
He hadn’t let her choose her time but she nodded, figuring she’d already won a concession. “Keep in mind you’re the only one I’ve ever told this to,” she cautioned.
Steve raised his eyebrows. “I thought women confessed everything
to their best woman friend.”
“Stereotype!” she accused. “Besides, some things you just don’t care to admit. Like how stupid you were to be taken in by a pretty face.”
“Pretty?”
“Well, he was. Charmingly persuasive, too. He worked hard to make everyone like him. Most did, Till they got to know him better. Then his incredible shallowness and continual manipulating began to show through. I didn’t see any of his faults in the beginning.”
“Any virtues?”
She glanced at him, suspecting he might be laughing at her, but his expression verged on grim.
“He was—is—a passable doctor,” she admitted.
“So he’s still around and about, being charming, I take it.”
She nodded. “Why is it impossible to warn some misguided soul about what she’s letting herself in for without her believing you’re lying because you’re jealous?”
“You got warned ahead of time?”
“Obliquely. Naturally I paid no attention.”
“You were in love with this jerk?”
Was she imagining the edge to his voice?
“Not fatally, no,” she said. “But the realization I wasn’t the one and only light of his life hit hard when I read about his engagement to a gal from old Maryland money. I’m ashamed to admit I moped around for weeks until I finally understood how much better off I was without him. It was a painful lesson to learn, not to trust anything a man says. I don’t intend to ever make that mistake again.”
“What happens when you run across an honest man?”
“Are there any?”
He laid his hand over his heart. “You wound me.”
“I’m sure.” Since Steve had loosened up, he was fun to be with, something she’d never have suspected when she first knew him. But then she couldn’t have imagined their moonlit night at the beginning. Not in a million years.
How easy it had been to tell him about Jordan the Jerk. Maybe because memories of Jordan were fading more rapidly than she’d ever believed possible.
“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” he said. “Mistaking another person’s motives is all too easy.”
“It’s hard to forgive myself for being too blind to see what he was like and too stubborn to listen to anybody that did know.”
“Pretty faces tend to confuse us.”
Was he thinking about Kim and himself? Victoria wondered what Kim had really been like. And Steve—had he always had this tendency to withdraw, to conceal?
He hunched forward, focusing on Joker, now curled up sleeping at their feet. “I”m not sure what to do about us,” he said slowly. ”When we part I don’t want you to go off thinking of me as Steve the Deceiver.” He offered her a wry smile, then looked away.
“You haven’t promised me anything,” she said.
“Promises aren’t always in words. You must know I want you one hell of a lot.”
“That’s not a promise.”
He took a deep breath and looked directly at her. “More like a bond. Bonds can be harder to break than promises.”
Victoria swallowed, her pulse pounding, his words both thrilling and frightening her as she recognized the truth he spoke. “I—I want you, too,” she whis pered. “It’s scary how much.”
He reached for her, pulling her up, over and onto his lap, disturbing Joker. The dog sat up and stared at them for a long moment before turning around and settling back down.
“He thinks we’re crazy,” she murmured into Steve’s ear.
“He may be right,” Steve told her before his lips covered hers in a hungry kiss.
The day had gone so well, she hadn’t thought it could be more perfect. Had she been wrong!
She could stay right here in his lap for the rest of time sharing this kiss with Steve. He tasted of blueberries from the muffins she’d made, and of himself, delicious beyond compare. His lips were warm and compelling as he deepened the kiss, and she felt herself dissolving like sugar in hot coffee.
The trouble with wishing the moment would last forever was, wonderful as the kiss was, she wanted—she needed—more. There might be no moonlight but that didn’t matter. What she needed came from Steve, not the moon or the night.
“Damn,” he muttered, shifting her slightly, “whoever conceived these miserable Adirondack chairs sure didn’t have in mind what I want to do.”
Chapter Eight
Joker evidently decided that two people squirming around in one chair needed his attention because Victoria found one of his front feet digging into her thigh. The other was obviously planted somewhere it shouldn’t be on Steve.
“Damn!” he cried. “Get down, you mutt!”
When Joker obeyed, Victoria untangled herself from Steve and slid off his lap onto her feet. Steve got up slower, with more effort
“The time was fine but not the place,” he said. “Poor choice. Some chairs are possible but not these wooden monstrosities.”
He put an arm around her and led her back inside, with Joker trailing after them. Bevins was complaining loudly about being shut in the shed at what he felt was the wrong time and the dog padded over to sniff at the crack underneath the door.
“Tell me again why you wanted that kitten,” Steve said as he let the cat out.
“For the mice, naturally.”
“He hasn’t caught one yet.”
“Caught you, though,” she told him.
Steve stopped by the cradle and they both looked down at Heidi, who was awake, making baby sounds.
“If they had goldfish for sale in Hanksville, I might be tempted,” he said. “At least fish are quiet and never leave their bowl.” He touched Victoria’s nose with his forefinger. “We’ll have to make it later, in the loft, far away from the vocal and nosy crowd.”
Shortly after her evening bottle, Heidi began to fuss and then cry. She wouldn’t stop no matter what Victoria did. Finally she decided to try something she’d heard recommended to new mothers. Taking the baby into the bedroom, she kicked off her shoes, then lay on the bed and put Heidi face down on her abdomen with the baby’s ear over her heart.
“Don’t let me fall asleep,” she told Steve, who’d followed her in. “I might roll over.”
“Is she all right?” he asked over Heidi’s wails. “What’re you doing?”
“In the uterus, the baby hears the mother’s heart beat continually. I’m hoping my heartbeat will soothe Heidi enough to relax her so she can get rid of what I suspect is gas.”
“Colic?”
She nodded.
He left the room and Victoria closed her eyes, rubbing the baby’s back gently as she murmured to her. The wails gradually diminished, finally ceasing, but Victoria didn’t want to risk moving Heidi just yet. The warm weight on her abdomen was as soothing to her as her heartbeat had been to the baby....
Hearing no sound from the bedroom, Steve ventured in. Heidi looked to be solidly asleep—and so did Victoria. As carefully as he could, he lifted the baby into his arms and eased from the room. Her eyelids fluttered when he laid her in the cradle, so he rocked it gently back and forth, back and forth until he figured she was sleeping soundly again.
He retreated to his chair and picked up the book he’d nearly finished, to pass the time until Victoria roused. Getting involved in the rock ‘em, sock ’em, boot ‘em, shoot ’em final chapter, he didn’t surface until it was all over, with what was left of the good guys as the winners.
Not a sound from the bedroom. He laid the book down and eased over to look at Victoria. She’d turned on her side, away from him, still asleep. He hesitated, then entered the room, lifted the afghan from the footboard rail and spread it over her.
For a long moment he stood there looking down at her, feeling a strange warmth inside that had nothing to do with sex. Shrugging it off, he left the room and, after checking Heidi to make certain she was all right, plucked Bevins off the hearth cushion and shut him in the shed.
That exciting last chapter had reminded him of
the exceedingly messy business he and Mikel Starzov had taken care of in Puerto Rico. He liked the guy. New to the agency, Mikel had proved to be one of the best men he’d ever worked with. Seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to ferreting out the rats.
Too keyed up to sleep, Steve decided to go for a walk. “I think Mikel’s another loner like me,” he told the dog as they headed down the path.
Joker woofed.
“Okay, so I don’t qualify as a loner when you’re with me,” Steve muttered.
Come to that, Victoria and the baby were back at the cabin, along with the cat. He very definitely wasn’t alone.
An owl hooted four times off to the left, bringing Joker to a halt. “Stay,” Steve ordered, when the dog seemed inclined to investigate.
Joker obeyed, making Steve more positive someone had trained him. He’d have to determine how many basic commands the dog had learned—you never knew when one of them might come in handy.
Not that they weren’t safe enough up here on the mountain. He’d never felt so relaxed, except for the times he’d spent in Nevada on the ranch with Karen and her family.
When he finally returned to the cabin, Victoria and Heidi didn’t stir when he came in. Apparently he’d be sleeping alone in the loft He’d planned otherwise but the only way Victoria was going to join him tonight was in his dreams.
Victoria woke with a start, certain someone had called her name. No, not someone—her sister, Renee. In the dark, she was disoriented for the few moments it took her to realize where she was, and it took her still longer to remember why she was fully dressed except for her shoes.
She didn’t recall dreaming about Renee and she hoped thinking her sister had called her wasn’t some kind of portent. She’d never been in any way, shape or form psychic, so she decided it must have happened because Renee had been on her mind since she’d told Steve about the disappearance.
Victoria got up, turned on the flashlight and left the bedroom to check on Heidi who was sleeping like an angel. The clock told her it was after midnight—Steve must have given up and gone to bed. She returned to her room and undressed, ready to slip into her sleep-T and go back to bed. Instead, she held, struck by a more exciting idea.