“The nurses will flood back in here at feeding time. They were just so busy before, particularly this morning, and then this one-I didn’t think he should be left alone.”
“It’s all ri- Kay. It’s-” Mitch’s face became peculiarly contorted.
“Silly.” Kay snatched the baby from him. “Did you wet on poor old Mitch?” she cooed at him. “You just scared him out of his mind, darling.”
***
“I was not scared out of my mind,” Mitch growled as he pushed open the front door of her house and patted her rear end with unerring aim until Kay was safely out of the driving wind.
“Of course you weren’t,” Kay said placatingly, and started giggling again as she tugged off her coat. “You’re so good with the kids. Who would have guessed that a massive lug like you would be terrified of a ten-pound baby?”
“If I make you a cup of coffee, will you lay off?”
“Nope. No coffee. Just give me four and a half seconds to change and another three full minutes to call my family, and then we’ll be on our way.”
“You don’t need to change.”
“I do, too. I’m not going to your mother’s house smelling like baby powder.”
She was in such a rush, plugging in the tree lights, dropping the Santa suits, taking off her coat, slipping off her shoes in the middle of the floor. He had plenty of time to block her path back toward the bedroom, and in one fell swoop he wrapped her up and hugged her. Just…hugged her.
“Oh, Mitch.” She returned his hug, and then for an instant her head tilted back, and her eyes seared his with an intensely searching expression that he couldn’t fathom. Before he could question her, she wriggled free. “Let me go, you oaf, or I’ll tell your mother you held us up by seducing me.”
“Are you kidding? My mother wouldn’t believe you, and my father would serve you champagne.”
“Your father knows I’m a good woman. Unlike what you think.”
“Come back here and I’ll show you what I think.”
“Don’t you come near this bedroom. We’re late enough,” Kay called as she disappeared down the hall.
“What about zippers and stuff?”
“No excuses.”
Mitch, smiling, stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered aimlessly while she changed her dress. The huge Christmas tree was set up with winking lights, a dozen strands. She liked lights. She also liked to decorate the tree with every handmade ornament any kid had ever given her. The whole place smelled like holly and pine.
And he was going to have Kay and the holly and the pine to himself for a couple of days over the holidays. He’d talked her into a mini-vacation at the hunting lodge up north…and it had taken some talking. She too damn clearly hadn’t wanted to go.
He’d put on a casual air every time he’d been around her. A man didn’t wear hurt or anxiety on his sleeve…and he’d been afraid of pushing her too far. He couldn’t risk losing her altogether. But he was well aware that Kay had not shown any reticence in their relationship until they’d made love.
He couldn’t imagine any more explosiveness than they’d experienced making love together. Kay was totally responsive, so completely uninhibited and free in her loving that he knew she was satisfied. Or did he just want to believe that? How the hell was he supposed to measure it?
“Done. Okay?” Kay whirled in the doorway, showing off an emerald-green dress with that strange extra material under the sleeves, like the garments he saw in magazines.
His lips twitched in a smile. “Beautiful.”
She made a face. “It’s a shame I can’t believe you. You’re so darned biased… Mitch, I have time to phone my parents, don’t I? I know we’re late, but if I don’t get through now…well, you know how the lines are around the holidays.”
“Of course you have time.”
She flashed him a smile, one he could see in a glance didn’t reach her eyes. He trailed her as she crossed into the kitchen and started dialing.
“She’ll be all right, you know,” he said quietly.
Her soft eyes lifted to his. “Jana?”
“She was fine two days ago when you called,” he reminded her gently, understanding perfectly why her mood had suddenly shifted.
“I know that, but…” Kay spoke to the operator, then leaned against the counter as she waited. “You know, you’d love Jana, Mitch. She’s pretty and she’s funny and she’s got your kind of courage… Mom? Merry Christmas!”
Mitch watched her a moment longer, long enough to ensure everything was all right at her parents’ home. He could tell from her expression, not needing to hear any of the conversation, just as he understood her mood change whenever her sister’s name was brought up.
She’d told him a great deal about Jana’s illness. About the latest remission of two years, about the years when the family was afraid Jana wouldn’t make it, of Jana’s trial by pain. He felt he knew Kay’s sister, from having shared the similar lengthy trial of a lonely illness.
More than that, he felt protective of Kay because of it. She felt guilty about not being physically closer to her family; she worried about her sister constantly and felt helpless to do anything for her. Mitch’s family had been in those shoes-those of the helpless bystanders. There was a kind of life’s trial that had to be faced alone; it hurt those closest because there really wasn’t anything they could do. He understood so much of what Kay was feeling…
And felt intense relief for her, as he watched the sparkle return to her eyes, a giggle echo in her throat as she chattered into the phone. Everything really was fine with her family, and her mood picked up again.
“Mitch?”
He shook his head, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was bullied into picking up the phone, coaxed into meeting three people talking all at once on the other end. Jana’s voice was soft, like Kay’s; her mother told him to not allow her daughter to let strangers into the house; her father asked him about the football season, and they made a bet on the Super Bowl. Mitch didn’t have the chance to say much in return, which was probably just as well. By the time Kay snatched the phone back, the only thing in his head was how to break it to them that he had every intention of claiming one member of their family permanently.
Waiting for her, he leaned against the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, enjoying the sound of her animated laughter as she told her sister about their hospital visit that morning.
Only by chance did his eyes flicker to the kitchen table. A letter lay there; he didn’t really mean to look. He didn’t look; it was more a question of catching the “Hi Hot Stuff” in the greeting and a string of x’s and o’s scrawled near the distinctly masculine “Drew” at the end.
A fist clenched in his pocket. It seemed to be his.
“Finally.” Kay hung up the phone and raced into the living room for her coat. “Darn it, I’m sorry, Mitch. I figured on a three-minute call and should have known that would turn into at least twenty. Are we going to be late? That’s a terrible thing to do to your mother on Christmas.”
“We won’t be late,” Mitch soothed, trailing after her with a smile. “I told you, I called Mom from the hospital-”
“The pie. You would actually have let me walk off without the pie!” She scurried back toward the kitchen and shouted, “It’s gone! It’s been stolen!” She rushed back in alarm, only to see the dish sitting peacefully in Mitch’s hands. She chuckled. “I have to admit you’re smarter than some,” she mentioned as she buttoned her coat before taking the pie.
“Was that a compliment or an insult?”
“I love you, you fool. Take it any way you like.” She grinned at him, holding open the door.
“Who’s Drew?” he asked idly as he reached for his car keys.
“Drew? You mean Andrew?” Kay slid into the seat, breathless, and immediately shivered violently. “Instant heat would be welcomed.”
“Coming up. And yes, I meant…Andrew.”
“A very old and very g
ood friend. He thought he wanted to be a minister when I first met him in high school. We palled around for years. We even kept in touch after he moved out of state. To live with a girl who could have rivaled Mae West, no less. Some future in the ministry.” Kay hugged her hands under her chest, grateful for the heat flooding into the car. Her eyebrows lifted in sudden surprise, as if just aware of the question. “I must have told you about him before?”
“You’re shivering like a scared rabbit. There’s a blanket in back if you can’t wait for the heat to do its thing.”
“I’ll survive.” Kay smiled.
Mitch did, too. Sort of.
Andrew. Another one of her men from the past. Just friends. Or lovers?
Experienced lovers. Unlike himself.
Chapter Fourteen
Kay killed the snowmobile engine with a push on the button. Flipping up the mask on her helmet, she sighed, relaxed, and leaned back on her elbows.
Mitch’s snowmobile continued to zoom ahead, then did an abrupt circle, roared back in her direction and stopped abruptly. His machine was as snow-covered as hers was, and with his suit and helmet totally encrusted, he looked something like the abominable snowman. Particularly when he swung one long leg over the side and started stalking toward her.
“We’re never going to get there if you keep doing this,” he scolded, not for the first time.
“I couldn’t help it.” She motioned all around her.
Moscow always received its share of snow in winter, but often enough it was the kind of snow that pelted down…and then melted. This high lake country around the Kootenai River was something else. Kay knew it was a lumbering region in summer, but Mitch’s cottage was accessible only by snowmobile at this time of the year.
She’d never been this far north before. Steep slopes had given the three-hour ride a roller-coaster quality. Over each rise there seemed to be a lake or stream hidden in the mountain folds. The sun had to fight to soar through the growth of old cedars and giant firs, so snow-laden they were drooping. In places, the wind-driven snow completely buried the trees, and they looked like mammoth ghosts, whimsical giant figures about to take off and walk.
Kay motioned again, entranced by the curve of silver stream they’d just passed. A foot-high shelf of snow curled over its banks; the sun had put a glaze of rhinestones on it. The air was so pure and fresh it hurt her lungs, and the sky had that incredibly clear blue of aquamarine. “It looks as if no one’s ever been here before-ever,” she said helplessly.
A lazy slash of a smile lit Mitch’s wind-reddened features as he bent over her and matched extremely cold lips to hers. “I knew you’d like it.” His warm eyes settled on hers for a long moment before he moved behind her and made sure for the dozenth time that her pack was secure on the back of the snowmobile. “This used to be mail-order-bride country, you know.”
“For the lumberjacks?”
“For lumbermen. Miners. Outlaws. Whoever was foolish enough to try to carve a living out of the wild. Old-timers say that anyone living alone here for long ‘got as goofy as a wooden watch.’ No matter what the season, they were cooped up. Eight feet of snow in the winter, and in summer the undergrowth could get so thick in the woods that you couldn’t travel through them.”
“How did they travel, then? Your family started around here way back, didn’t they? How’d they get the timber out, if there weren’t any roads?”
“They used the rivers. And as for simple visits between folk, the Kootenai and Kalispell Indians built some strange-looking sturgeon-nosed crafts. Kootenai canoes, they were called, ideal for traveling the rivers. And you’re not going to get me talking again until I have you nice and warm in front of a fire with a mug of hot coffee in your hands.” He tucked one snowmobile glove under his arm, and felt her cheek with his bare fingers. “You’re freezing,” he informed her.
“Am not.”
“You’re also hungry.”
“Am not.” She grinned.
“And it’s going to be dark in two hours. Did I tell you this area has its share of grizzlies?”
“Don’t give me that. Bears sleep during the winter.”
“Black bears sleep during the winter. But grizzlies…”
Kay righted herself promptly, not that she seriously believed him. Casting one lingering glance at the idyllic scene, she started the snowmobile engine. The vibrating roar filled her ears, and she adjusted her visor.
Leaning forward to keep the snow from rushing onto her mask, straddling the seat, she felt something like a jockey in the Kentucky Derby. A couple of hours before she’d been wary of the snowmobile; by now she was into the spirit of it. The thing liked to race; she’d just let it have its way-and had elicited Mitch’s roaring laughter when she pitched headfirst into a snowbank some time before.
Her fingers and toes were long past freezing and had gone completely numb. As she followed Mitch’s spray of snow in the distance, she thought dismally that she was doing a terrible job at keeping a handle on caution. She’d balked at the idea of spending three days alone with him, for the very reason that she knew darn well they would turn out as terrific as these first few hours.
Her heart couldn’t afford to get in deeper; she was in hock to Mitch, and heavily, already. When he’d tried to give her the star garnet for Christmas, panic had set in. She couldn’t accept a gift like that unless they were…committed. She was committed, but she just couldn’t be that sure of Mitch. She knew what he thought he wanted, but she couldn’t get it out of her head that the special feeling for a first lover would fade, that he’d suddenly be looking for other women and other sexual experiences.
She’d hurt him badly when she refused to take the garnet pendant. They’d been stiff with each other for the first time on the drive up here. Kay didn’t know how to broach the subject of his inexperience, which had clearly been a tender one for Mitch for so long…but then, as civilization had sped behind them, as the landscape changed to wild white mountains and bubbling streams, laughter had so naturally broken through. How do you keep your distance from a man you love more than life?
At his cabin, they’d be alone, and she’d have the chance to talk to him-she’d make the chance.
***
Wielding an armload of logs, Mitch pushed open the cabin door with his boot. Dropping the wood on the ketch beside the wood stove, he unzipped his snowmobile suit halfway and glanced around in search of Kay.
The log cabin was one big room with a raised potbellied stove in its center. The snow outside was knee-deep, and it curled on the windowsills like whipped cream. Inside, the stove was really popping, and the cedar logs let off their woodsy fragrance, which permeated the cabin.
The cabin was already toasty. Mitch pushed off his boots at the door and started stripping off the snowsuit, his eyes roaming the room restlessly. A twelve-point buck elk’s head hung over the couch; its eyes always stared back if you looked long enough. A double bed took up one corner; Kay had already removed the cover from the feather bed and fluffed it out.
She’d also set a kettle of water on the stove. And checked out the books in the ceiling-high bookcase. He smiled. Every cupboard in the kitchen area was open, obviously recently explored.
He might have thought she’d disappeared altogether if the trapdoor in the far corner hadn’t been open. Rubbing his hands together, he wandered to the opening and crouched down on his haunches.
“I would think you’d have the sense to warm up by the fire,” he called down.
“You’re back,” Kay announced unnecessarily. “Mitch, there’s enough food down here for an entire winter!”
“Of course there is. Anyone crazy enough to come up here in the dead of winter could get stranded.”
“When I saw there was no food upstairs, I got a little concerned,” she admitted. “But I never dreamed-”
“If we kept it upstairs, it would freeze-or spoil, during the long periods no one’s around. The generator obviously isn’t kept on when no one’s her
e, and you can’t count on it anyway through a long snowstorm.”
“The bathroom’s adorable,” Kay mentioned.
He grinned. “You like that?” The tiny cubicle just off the main room was big enough for a chemical john and that was it. A big claw-foot tub stood next to the pump sink in the kitchen area and could have contained two grown men. A propane heater promised enough hot water to fill the tub, but privacy was another story.
Privacy was not exactly what he had in mind for Kay these few days anyway. The holiday had not prompted much intimacy so far. Actually, none, although there were occasions he could have taken advantage of if the lady had shown the least inclination. Furthermore, Kay had reminded him twice on the way up that she wanted them to get back for a New Year’s Eve party at Stix’s.
An insensitive fool could tell Kay was turning cool. Mitch was not insensitive. Kay was her usual bubbly self, but it was obvious she suddenly wanted to play it light…and it was obvious to him that in some way he’d disappointed her as a lover. Nothing else could be wrong; in every other way they blended like two peas in a pod. And the worst of it was he couldn’t imagine any lover more satisfying than Kay-for him.
He’d felt as touchy as a wounded bear on the drive up. That edginess had only gradually eased on the snowmobile ride; his mood had lifted as Kay’s natural exuberance had broken through her odd quietness of the past few days. Her smiles had made him smile; her daredevil antics on the snowmobile ride had alternately made him roar with laughter and want to turn her over his knee.
“I love it,” Kay announced as her head popped up through the trap door. “Help!”
She handed him foodstuffs, one by one. Coffee, tea, a bottle of wine. Flour. Canned stew, sugar… “We’re having stew for dinner. With homemade biscuits, and I’ll be darned if this doesn’t look like homemade jam. And here are the pickles-”
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