BEYOND ALL REASON

by Judith Duncan

  It seemed like an eternity before she cried herself out, her harsh sobs dwindling to the occasional ragged one. Pressing the heels of her hands against her throbbing, swollen eyes, she forced herself to dredge up some control, then she reached for her purse and located a packet of tissues. She blew her nose, then closed her eyes and tipped her head back, waiting for her emotions to settle. God, she didn't know she could feel so inadequate, so exhausted, so emotionally depleted.

  Releasing a heavy sigh, she wearily lifted her head, knowing that although a damned good cry might take the edge off, it didn't fix anything. Especially the washout blocking her.

  She went still when she spotted the truck parked on the other side of the gully, a truck that hadn't been there moments before. A movement at the side of the road caught her attention and she shifted her gaze, her heart lurching when she recognized the figure in the dark canvas drover's coat and black Stetson coming up the hill toward her, his shoulders hunched against the driving rain. She stared at him, her mind numb; then her throat cramped up again and her vision blurred. Tanner. He was home – and he was here. Afraid she would break down again if she didn't do something, she quickly wiped her eyes and reached for the door handle, the wind and rain buffeting her as she stepped out.

  Slamming the door, she hunched against the driving rain and started toward him, slipping haphazardly in the mud, praying he wouldn't notice the mess she was in. If he showed any concern at all, she wasn't sure if she could keep it together or not.

  Feeling as if she were hanging on by a mere thread, she stopped and tried to fortify her reserve, waiting for him.

  Reaching her, his head tipped against the slanting rain, he turned so that she was sheltered by his large frame. He glared at her from beneath the brim of his hat, his face fixed in harsh lines. "Damn it, Kate. You should have called me to get the prescription. Buddy was damned worried about you."

  She looked up at him, her hair plastered to her head, the Water running down her face and dripping off her eyelashes and nose, the feeling of fear and helplessness surging back. She knew that if she opened her mouth to answer, she was going to cry. Dragging Burt's canvas slicker tighter around her, she tried to swallow, the growing pressure making it impossible.

  His gaze narrowed, and the angle of his jaw hardened. "What's wrong? What happened?"

  Her panic, her fear, her relief at having him there, came dangerously close to the surface, and Kate clutched her coat tighter and answered, her voice breaking badly, "I thought I saw the boys' father in Pincher. I thought–" Closing her eyes against the sudden welling of tears, she clenched her jaw, feeling as if she were about to shatter.

  She heard him swear; then he gripped her chin and brought her head up, forcing her to look at him. Rain angled in under the brim of his hat and sluiced down his face, but he didn't seem to notice. "Kate, listen to me," he commanded gruffly. "We can't talk about it now. That culvert could go at any time, and if it does, there's no other way around. If we don't get across now, we won't be getting across at all."

  Startled into stillness, transfixed by his touch, Kate stared up at him, the urgency of his words registering. She closed her eyes, and a violent shiver coursed through her, then she forced herself to pull it together.

  Concentrating on what he'd told her, she met his gaze, indicating with a small movement of her head that she understood. Tanner stared at her, his eyes dark, then he gave her head a gentle little shake. "Okay?" he asked, his voice soft and husky.

  She managed a weak smile and nodded again. "Okay."

  He wiped away the water caught in her eyelashes, with his thumbs, then let her go, his voice gruff and tinged with humor when he said, "Do you think you can make it across without losing both your shoes?"

  She tried to smile. "I think so."

  Fighting against the new wave of feelings jamming up in he chest, Kate looked away, fresh tears filling her eyes. His slicker rustled, and he caught her under the chin, forcing her face up. His expression was intent, his gaze meeting hers with unwavering steadiness. "He won't get to you here, Kate," he said, his tone firm. "But if he does, he's going to have one hell of a battle on his hands."

  Comforted by his assurance and warmed to the soul by the feel of his hand on her face, she gazed up at him, wanting with all her heart to curl up in his arms. Unsure if she could answer him, she held his gaze, her mouth trembling as she nodded again.

  His expression altering, he tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear, then slid his hand across her shoulders and turned up the collar of her coat. "You're starting to shiver," he said, his voice rough. "And that water's rising, Kate. We've got to get you home."

  But Kate knew her shivering had nothing to do with being cold.

  The rain beating down around them, they returned to the idling vehicle, the raindrops sounding like hail against the metal. Tanner opened the door and reached in to turn off the lights and the ignition, then removed the keys. He reached under his slicker and stuffed them in the back pocket of his jeans, then handed her her purse. He indicated the parcel she had retrieved from the floor behind the driver's seat. "Does that have to go?"

  Shivering in earnest, Kate avoided his gaze, knowing he would never understand why, after experiencing the kind of terror she had, it was so important that she keep her promise to her sons. Unable to look at him, she answered, her voice unsteady, "It's for the boys."

  The wind cut between them, making her shiver more. He took the plastic bag from her. "I'll carry it," he said, his tone quiet. Blinking rapidly, she swallowed hard, trying to collect herself as he pressed the automatic door lock and slammed the door. Shifting the bag to the other hand, he touched her arm. "Come on," he said. "You look like you're just about done in."

  Unable to answer, Kate stumbled alongside him, something nearly unbearable unfolding in her chest as he steadied her, then took her hand, his warm, strong grip anchoring her.

  By the time they got to the bottom of the hill, Kate was soaked and cold, but feeling a whole lot better than she had twenty minutes earlier. Tanner stopped a few feet back from the washout, and Kate looked at the muddy water, then glanced up at him. For the first time in hours, she experienced a flicker of humor. She gave him a wry smile. "It isn't heated, is it?"

  The creases around his eyes crinkled, and a glint appeared. "Think of it as a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

  She gave the swirling water a dubious look, then heaved a sigh. "I guess standing here isn't going to get it done, is it?"

  "No," he said, his tone oddly husky. "It isn't." He let go of her hand, then took her purse from her and looped the strap over her head. Adjusting the strap so it fell diagonally across her body, he tucked it under her arm, then pushed the purse on to her back. He stopped her when he saw her about to kick off one shoe. "Leave your shoes on. It's pretty roughgoing in there." Satisfied with the security of her handbag, he looked at her, rain trickling off the brim of his hat, his expression intent. "It's probably going to be past your knees in the middle, and the current is swift, so be careful." He caught her hand and drew it under his slicker, positioning it at the small of his back. "Get a good hold on my belt, and watch your step, okay?" Pushing aside her coat, he grasped the back of her jeans, and she felt his fingers tighten around her waistband. He gave her a crooked smile. "Do me a favor and hang on. I'd rather not have to go fishing for you in this."

  Kate wasn't too keen on the idea herself. Slipping her fingers under his belt, she took a deep, fortifying breath. "Lead on, Macduff."

  It was cold, painfully cold. The footing was rocky and perilous, the current swift and treacherous. Kate was certain she would never have been able to stay on her feet if Tanner hadn't acted as a breakwater, and if he hadn't been there holding her up. And she would have been in very big trouble when, three quarters of the way across, she took a step and there was nothing there. Before she even realized what had happened, he had hauled her up hard against him and half carried, half dragged her onto solid ground.


  It wasn't until she was standing at the driver's door of the truck that she realized she was wet to the waist and had lost one shoe. Opening the door, Tanner tossed the plastic bag onto the floor by the passenger seat, then dragged the purse strap over her head and tossed the purse on top of the bag. His face cast in grim lines, he rapidly peeled the slicker off her and threw it in the box of the truck, then pushed her inside. He waited until she'd slid past the steering wheel, then pointed to the compartment behind the seat. "There's a jacket back there," he said, his tone brusque. "You'd better get it on."

  He stripped off his own slicker and threw it in the back, as well. Taking off his hat, he slid behind the wheel and closed the door, dropping his hat behind the seat. Kate closed her eyes and clamped her hands between her thighs, shivering and too cold to move. Tanner started the engine, and as a blast of warm air filled the cab, she felt him turn. Something warm and fleecy settled around her shoulders, and Kate opened her eyes, numbly watching his face as he tucked the fleece-lined jacket snugly around her. He was so close, and he smelled so warm, and suddenly Kate felt very fragile and very shaky inside, and she closed her eyes, clenching her jaw against her own emotions.

  It had been a long time – a very long time – since someone had taken care of her. It nearly put her in sensory overload when he dragged her wet hair free of the jacket and pulled the collar up around her neck, his touch sending a trail of shivers down her back. Tension blossomed in her, and she pressed her thighs more tightly together, holding her hands immobile. She wanted to touch him so much, so very much.

  "Slide over," he commanded roughly.

  Avoiding looking at him, she numbly did as she was told, then sat huddled in the warmth of his coat, wet and cold and so bereft she could hardly bear it.

  Tanner leaned across her and opened the glove compartment, taking out a pair of dry socks. "Here. Put these on."

  Unable to respond, Kate gripped the flaps of the coat and pulled it tighter around her, and Tanner glanced at her, his face only inches from hers. He stared at her for a moment, the muscles in his jaw hardening, then he sat up and swore, hitting the steering wheel with the side of his hand.

  Confused and shaken, Kate stared at him, her stomach dropping away to nothing. Not sure what was going on, she softly whispered his name. "Tanner?"

  He turned and looked at her, his expression bitter, his voice harsh with self-contempt. "I came within an inch of losing you out there, Kate. An inch."

  Something gave way around her heart, and she shivered. Feeling almost too raw to speak, she reached out and wiped the moisture off his face. "No you didn't," she countered unevenly. "If you hadn't been here, I would have tried to come across by myself. Then you would have lost me." She felt his jaw harden beneath her touch, and without any warning, her eyes filled up. A feeling of desolation washed through her, and she dropped her hand and laced her fingers tightly together in her lap, fighting to contain the tears. She shouldn't have touched him. She never should have done that.

  Tanner shifted, then he cupped her jaw, lifting her face. "Don't, Katie," he whispered gruffly. "Please, don't."

  She looked up at him, her eyes awash with tears, and Tanner brushed his knuckles across her cheek, then brushed her dripping hair behind her ear. His expression etched with strain, he let a wet strand curl around his finger, then swallowed hard and looked at her, his eyes dark and tormented. Then, releasing along, shaky sigh, he shifted and pulled her across his legs, gathering her up in a tight, enveloping embrace.

  Kate sagged against him, unable to hold in all the raw and turbulent feelings that surged through her. She'd thought she was all cried out. But the miracle of being held by him, of having someone to share her fear with, of finally experiencing the feel of his arms around her, was just too much to handle, and she huddled in his arms, pressing her wet face into the curve of his neck. On a day when her ongoing fear had once again resurrected itself, it was just too much.

  Arranging the coat around her and drawing her deeper into his warmth, he cradled her head even closer, his breath warm against the side of her face. He didn't say anything; he didn't have to. He was holding her, and that was all that mattered.

  Neither of them spoke; neither of them made any move to draw away. It was almost as though each was drawing warmth and comfort from the other.

  But that private, comforting cocoon was invaded moments later when the cellular phone buzzed. Holding her head against, him, he retrieved it, pressed a button and held it to his ear. "Tanner."

  He listened for a moment, then turned and looked out the window, his voice gruff. "No. I've got her. We'll be home in five minutes."

  Sensing his instant withdrawal, Kate disentangled herself and moved over onto the seat, desolation once again sweeping through her. The walls were back up, and she was outside them. She started to shiver, a different kind of cold settling in.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  «^»

  The water gurgled out of the old tub as Kate folded the towels and hung them up on the antiquated brass bar, the late-night silence of the house weighing down upon her. She straightened the items on the vanity and put the cap on her body lotion, then dropped her hairbrush in the drawer. She felt as if every nerve in her body were stretched to the limit, the knot in her stomach sitting like a rock. She had gone to bed hours ago, shortly after she had settled Burt for the night, and she had even managed to fall asleep.

  But something had brought her sharply awake, her heart pounding, the tentacles of fear leaving her cold and shaking. But it wasn't that unknown fear that had driven her from her bed; it was the anxiety of not knowing how to handle the situation with Tanner. He had been gruffly considerate ever since he'd brought her back, giving her time to collect herself before she had to deal with either Burt or the boys. He had, she realized with a pang, made sure she had her feet under her before he withdrew.

  But that wasn't what made her chest tighten and her throat ache. It was recalling how, once they'd gotten back to the house, he had pulled back into himself, and although he had been very careful with her, he had avoided any eye contact, not even so much as a casual glance. It was as though he wanted to disassociate himself from everything that had happened in the truck. But then she had caught him watching her when she was getting Burt ready for bed, and the bleak look in his eyes had done terrible things to her already raw emotions. She'd sensed that she had somehow been responsible for that look, and that had upset her. It still upset her now.

  She zipped up the front of her lightweight housecoat, then picked up her watch and sweat suit and left the bathroom, switching off the light after her. Attuned to the stillness in the house, she crossed to her room, starkly aware of the dark doorway at the end of the hall. Panic might have wakened her, but it was Tanner's absence and her own sense of guilt that were keeping her awake.

  Pushing open her door, she entered the darkened room and put her things on the chair, then went to the window, her mood bleak. His truck was there, but there were no lights on in either the cook house or the barn. Realizing that her window vigil was only making things worse, and knowing that there was no way she could stay in bed until he came in, she rubbed her arms and turned. She needed something to do, something to take her mind off the sickening feeling that kept churning inside her. Something to take her mind off the dark, haunting eyes of Tanner McCall.

  Avoiding the creak at the top of the stairs, she started down, her insides dropping away to nothing when she heard the sound of castors on hardwood – a sound coming from directly below her. Pausing on the third step, she gripped the banister, her heart suddenly clamoring. He was here. He must have come in when she was running the tub. Feeling shaky with relief, she took a deep, painful breath, trying to will away the frantic flutter that had climbed into her throat. Now what? What did she do now? Did she confront him? Did she leave it be?

  She remembered how he had hung on to her when the torrent had swept her feet out from under her – how he had dra
wn her into his lap and wrapped her up in the dry warmth of his coat. And that moment in the truck when everything was on the surface – the comfort, the warmth, the loneliness.

  But she had wanted that comfort, that warmth; she wanted everything with him. God, but it was frightening how much she wanted that, and it was even more frightening knowing that if she wanted it, she was going to have to reach out for it. She didn't know what she would do if he didn't reach back.

  Trying to quell the uncertain flutter in her heart, she took a deep, steadying breath, her heart climbing higher and higher; then, marshaling every ounce of courage she possessed, she started down the stairs.

  Tanner was sitting at the desk, his profile hard and unyielding in the circle of illumination from the banker's lamp, a computer printout spread before him. Uncertainty gripping her, she paused on the second from the last step, her insides balling up into a hard lump. There was no acknowledgment from him, and her doubts swarmed in on her. God, she was so scared.

  Gripping the newel post, she spoke, her voice strained. "I was afraid you'd gone back to the cattle camp."

  He swiveled his gaze to look at her, his surprise registering on his face. Realizing that he hadn't heard her and oddly bolstered by that, she came down the last two steps and clasped her hands in front of her, her legs suddenly unsteady.

  Tanner stared at her for a moment, then looked down and began making lines in the margin of the printout, his expression unreadable. "I had some things to do in the barn."

  She wished he would put the pencil down. She wished he would look at her. She wished she didn't feel so damned uncertain. He seemed so aloof, so detached. So unapproachable.

  She rubbed her fingers across the corner of the desk, then collected her courage. "I wanted you to know how glad I was to see you today," she said, her voice unsteady. "And it had nothing to do with the scare I had in Pincher Creek."