by Unknown
"Yeah." Cameron knew he was on delicate territory, but he felt compelled to say something more. "Well, just be up front with her, okay? She's got a lot on her plate with that kid, and she doesn't need her heart broken into the bargain."
Dave slammed his beer down. "Jeez, Cam, I'm a big boy now. I don't need a lecture on my love life from you of all people. Lay off."
Cameron was all too familiar with David's hair-trigger temper. "I happen to know your track record in that department. Remember Kim?" Several years before, Kim had been one of the numerous women Dave was involved with briefly and disastrously. Kim had become obsessive when Dave tried to break off with her, following him, calling, writing notes doused with her perfume, threatening suicide and finally actually slashing her wrists before she agreed to psychiatric help.
Cameron didn't blame Dave entirely—the woman was unbalanced to begin with—but there was no doubt Dave seemed to have a devastating effect on women.
"I don't want to see a nice lady wrecked because you get bored with the situation, that's all."
Dave got to his feet, his face livid. "For your information, I don't intend to do anything, ever, that will hurt Becky. And I don't figure you're in any position to lecture me, big brother. Looks to me as if you could use some counseling yourself. You're not exactly Mr. Congeniality with Alex these days, are you? Maybe you oughta take a look at your own marriage before you start giving me advice." He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Furious, Cam leaped to his feet to go after him and then slumped back on the sofa, his head in his hands. Damn it all, he didn't want to fight with David. He didn't want to fight with anyone.
He wanted peace and quiet, without soul-searching or angry confrontations. He'd had enough of that to last him a lifetime back on the drug squad.
Why couldn't his wife and his brother get the hell off his case?
He reached for the remote and turned up the sound, willing the noise and the action on the screen to dull the emotions that tore at his guts, but the attempt was futile. Much as he hated to admit it, Dave's accusation was right on the money.
He was being unfair to Alex; he knew that. He'd make more of an effort, he promised himself.
Starting tomorrow.
THE FOLLOWING DAY, Cameron spent almost the entire morning out at the mine. There'd been a staggering number of thefts lately—electrical equipment, small motors and tools—and the mine officials had a good idea which employees were responsible. This morning Cam had set up a scheme to catch the perpetrators in the act, with search warrants prepared for their homes, as well, and he was feeling good about the operation.
He drove down the winding road that led back to town, going over his careful preparations and trying to second-guess the way the scene would play. His fingers were tight on the steering wheel, and when he glanced in the rear-view mirror, he caught a glimpse of his own expression, intense and concentrated. Excited.
All of a sudden he realized how ridiculous it was, getting himself all hyped up over a matter of some petty thievery. He was making a mountain out of a molehill, his mother would say.
It's not a major drug bust, Ross, he reminded himself bitterly, and the feeling of excitement slowly disappeared. He had to get used to the idea that from here on in, the odd high-speed chase would be as exciting as it was liable to get.
His work so far in Korbin Lake had consisted mostly of traffic enforcement, petty thievery, minor assault, some shoplifting and a few complaints about cruelty to animals on outlying farms. He figured his job was about as different from the drug squad as night from day, and it was still too soon to say whether or not he'd want to stay at it for an extended period.
For now, he did his best to convince himself that it was fine. It might even give him a chance to drive out whatever perverse demons were haunting him.
He thought again about the things his brother had accused him of the night before, of screwing up his marriage and being unfair to his wife. Part of him knew all too well that he was being a proper jerk, but he couldn't seem to stop.
Just thinking of Alex brought a surge of heat to his groin. No matter how bad things were between them, he still couldn't think of her without wanting her. It hurt that she'd turned away from him last night. How long had it been since they'd made love? He wasn't sure of the exact number of days, but for sure it was longer than it had ever been.
He was on the edge of town when he suddenly decided to drop in on her, take her out to lunch, try his best to smooth the atmosphere between them. He wheeled the car around and picked up the radio.
"Korbin Lake, 85, I'll be 0-7 at the Med Center for lunch."
Suddenly he couldn't wait to see his wife.
FOR ALEX, the morning had seemed endless, even though she'd had four patients. Two were new mothers, friends of Nancy Townsend. Their visits were routine checkups for themselves and their babies, and both related Nancy's glowing recommendations of Alex as a family doctor.
She maintained a professional cheerfulness for her patients, but inside, Alex was miserable. Cameron's actions and words the previous night had hurt her deeply, and in what seemed to be a pattern here in Korbin Lake, he'd left for work by the time she awoke that morning.
Shortly before noon, the intercom buzzed.
"Mr. Brandt is on line three, Doctor Ross."
"Thanks, Ruthie." Alex made the connection, and the warm male voice that responded to her greeting made her smile.
"So, what color did you decide on for the office?"
"I think eggshell, with accents in primary colors," she said, looking around at the dismal surroundings and imagining it colorful and cheery. "I'm buying an unfinished bookshelf and lacquering it bright red," she decided on the spur of the moment. "And I'll put toys on the lower shelves for the kids."
Becky had brought over several trailing plants that morning, gifts from Sadie to say thank-you for the Sunday party, and Alex had set them in front of the window. "I'm going to spray-paint some hanging baskets yellow and blue and green and hang plants all across the window, and I'll bet even a color-blind person is going to like it here when I'm done," she teased with a grin.
"That's a low blow. Fm deeply hurt. But you could apologize by joining me for lunch. I'm over in the hospital cafeteria."
She hesitated, all too aware of hospital gossip. But eating lunch with an ambulance attendant in a crowded cafeteria surely couldn't be misconstrued, could it? She had no more appointments until two, and talking to Daniel might take her mind off her problems. "I'll see you over there in five minutes."
She quickly ran a brush through her hair, applied lip gloss, and made her way across the lawn to the hospital.
Daniel was already seated by the window, and she waved at him and joined the lineup at the food counter, choosing a chicken salad sandwich and a coffee. A few moments later, she slid into a chair across from him. He greeted her cheerfully, and they ate and chatted easily about the weather, the ambulance service and the hospital food. Alex was almost finished her sandwich when Cameron suddenly appeared at her elbow, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Cameron?" Alex stared up at him, amazed to see him. In the time she'd been at the clinic, Cam had never once come to have lunch with her. She felt flustered, thrown off balance, by having him appear this way with no warning.
"Hi, Alex." He shifted his gaze from her to Daniel and nodded. "Brandt," he said. The look he gave Daniel was hard and somehow frightening.
"Hello, Sergeant Ross." Daniel's greeting was accompanied by a friendly smile, but Cam didn't respond, and his grimness irritated Alex all of a sudden.
"Sit down, Cam." She was aware that her voice was sharper than normal. "Have you eaten? Do you want to get a tray and join us for lunch?"
He looked positively formidable in his uniform, and the level look he gave her added to the effect. "I'm not really hungry, thanks." He dragged a chair out, however, and lowered himself into it.
Sudden alarm gripped Alex. "Nothing's wrong,
is it, Cam? It's not Wade or—" Her thoughts went to David, her family, Cam's mother...
He gave her an apologetic smile and shook his head in reassurance. "No, no, of course nothing's wrong. I was just in the area and I thought I'd drop by for a few minutes, that's all."
She slumped with relief. "Oh, thank God. You scared me there for a minute."
"It's a hell of a note when the sight of your own husband scares you." His tone was dry, and his attempt at humor fell flat.
Daniel, obviously aware of the tension between them, cleared his throat and said, "I think I'll get a refill on this coffee. Can I bring you some, Sergeant? Alex?"
Cameron shook his head and Alex nodded and handed Daniel her paper cup. "Please."
"One cream, no sugar, right?"
"Right." She smiled at him, although her mouth felt stiff and dry. "You've got a good memory."
There was a charged silence as Alex watched Daniel maneuver his way through the lunchtime crowd to the counter.
Cameron, too, watched him go and then slowly turned his attention to Alex. "Sorry I interrupted your lunch. I guess I should have phoned first. I wanted to see you, to tell you I'm sorry about last night."
She waited, but he didn't elaborate, and her heart sank. "I'm sorry, too, Cam, but I don't think just saying we're sorry is enough. There's still so much we haven't discussed—"
"Damn it!" He shook his head and slumped back in bis chair. "I don't know what you want from me anymore, Alex. I say I'm sorry and you say it's not enough." His tone was angry, and the accusatory look he directed at her stunned her for a moment and then made her furious.
"I keep telling you what I want, but you don't listen, Cam. I'm not spelling it out for you again." She was so angry her voice was trembling.
His eyes seemed to burn a hole in her skin, and after an endless, silent moment, he got slowly to his feet. In a deceptively soft tone, he said, "I'll see you at home."
Shaken, she watched him go. She regained a semblance of control and forced a smile to her lips when Daniel came back. He set her brimming coffee container in front of her and gave her a quick, assessing look.
"He had to leave so soon?"
She nodded and swallowed hard, not daring to trust herself to speak. Tears were dangerously close.
"I was married for four years once," he said abruptly. "It's one hell of a hard thing to do, marriage."
"I'll say it is," she managed to say. She cleared her throat. "What—what happened to yours?" She realized instantly that the question was much too personal. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that—" "I'd like to tell you." His gentle gray eyes met hers, and the pain in them made her shiver. "I was a workaholic lawyer, typical Type A personality, never a moment to waste. She tried hard with me, but eventually she found somebody else, a laid-back musician with more sense than I had at the time. The marriage breakup was my fault. It nearly killed me when I lost her, but I still didn't smarten up. I took on even more files and gave up sleeping for cigarettes and alcohol, and then I had a heart attack." He laughed mirthlessly, "A minor one, fortunately, but it scared the hell out of me. I was only thirty-seven. The day I got out of the hospital, my grandfather called—first time I'd spoken to him in months.'' He shook his head and said with grim sarcasm, "I was a real busy guy in those days, no time to make idle phone calls. Anyhow, he'd heard I was sick, and he was worried. Ironic as hell because it turned out he was the one dying with cancer. I got in my car that afternoon and drove up here, and I've been here ever since. Sold my share in the law firm and never looked back.'' His smile didn't quite make it to his eyes. "I guess you could say I ran away from my problems, and for the most part, running away worked for me."
Is that what Cameron was trying to do, too, run away from his problems on Drug Squad? Alex wondered. If so, it didn't seem to be working at all, for him—or for her. "And you've never tried marriage again?" He shook his head. "Nope. Like I said, it's a hard thing to do, and I've gotten lazy in my old age. I like the easy life."
He grinned at her, and she managed to smile back, but she felt that for all his joking manner, Daniel was telling her something important. Marriages fell apart when two people stopped communicating.
"I'd better get back to the office." She got to her feet and so did he. "It's been good talking with you, Daniel."
"Seems I did most of the talking. Anytime you want to turn that around, I promise I'll shut up and listen. That's what friends are for."
"It's a deal." But she didn't want to confide in Daniel Brandt. It was her husband she wanted to talk to. Cameron was still her best friend, wasn't he?
For the first time since they'd met, she wasn't absolutely sure of that, and it terrified her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FOR ONCE, Cameron's Jeep was in the driveway and David's car was gone when she got home that evening.
The brothers had bought a wreck of an old car from a farmer the week before and had begun spending all their spare time out in the garage repairing it, but tonight the garage, too, was dark and deserted.
Alex thought of the appalling scene with Cameron at lunchtime, and her stomach tensed as she walked into the house. She bent down to stroke Pavarotti, delaying the moment when she'd have to face her husband and bear the brunt of his anger.
"Cameron? Cam, where are you?"
"I'm in the kitchen."
She squared her shoulders and walked in, chin high, feeling like a boxer entering the ring.
He was chopping onions at the counter, and to her amazement he looked up and smiled.
The sight of that familiar, crooked half smile made her heart ache with nostalgia.
"Rough day at the office, Doc?"
She listened closely for undercurrents of sarcasm but there didn't appear to be any. She blew out the breath she'd been holding. "Yeah. Sort of." She longed to blurt out all of her concerns about King. A few short months ago, she'd have had no reservations about doing so, knowing he'd offer her the best of advice. But things were different now. He no longer confided in her, and she found it impossible to share her own worries with him.
"How about you, Copper?" She forced a lightness into her tone that she was far from feeling, wondering when he was going to bring up the subject of their disastrous lunch. "Any shootouts on Main Street this afternoon?"
He shook his head and grinned, and the hard angles and deep shadows of his face softened for an instant. His thick black hair had grown out a little, and it hung down over his forehead. Alex impulsively reached out and brushed it back, tears burning behind her eyes. He was such a complicated, beautiful man, this husband of hers.
Touching him, a rush of physical longing suddenly overwhelmed her. More than anything in the world just now, she wanted the blind comfort of his arms, the reassurance of his loving, but she didn't know how to break through the barriers they'd somehow erected between themselves.
Cameron looked up and their eyes locked. Alex's breath caught, because instead of the anger she'd braced herself to expect, she could see the same desire that burned in her begin to kindle in the depths of his brown gaze, and relief spilled through her. The powerful physical attraction that had drawn them to each other the very first time they met was still there between them. Maybe it could heal.
Slowly, he laid down his paring knife and reached for her, his strong hands drawing her gently into his embrace.
"C'mere, beautiful stranger," he whispered, and with a half sob she raised her arms and slipped them around his neck. It felt wonderful, being held by the man she loved, familiar and safe and exciting all at the same time.
"Alex, I was way out of line today. The plain truth is I was black bloody jealous. I came hoping to have lunch with you and found Brandt there. It dawned on me that he's a good-looking guy, and you're so beautiful..."
The forthright explanation was all she needed to forgive him. She buried her nose in his neck, smelling the beer he'd been sipping, his shaving lotion, the musky, familiar personal scent of his body, and her hea
rt missed a beat and then hammered against her cotton shirt in a crazy, erratic rhythm.
This was her husband. She wanted him, needed him. Maybe the intimacy of lovemaking would reopen the pathways to the closeness she longed to recapture. She forced the hurt of the past weeks out of her mind, concentrating instead on the purely physical reactions he aroused in her.
He kissed her, his tongue plunging deep and urgent, and she responded, pressing her breasts and thighs against him.
"I need you, Alex. I need you," he growled and cupped her bottom, pulling her into intimate alignment with his pelvis, rocking against her in a way that left no doubt about the intensity of his desire.
"It's been so long." His lips found her ear, her neck, the tender spot under her chin. Feverish, impatient heat pooled in her abdomen, and she refused to allow herself any second thoughts.
"Our bedroom?" Cameron's voice was thick.
She shook her head, and gasped, "Here. Now." It was too dangerous, that interval between kitchen and bedroom. It would leave time to think, time for all the old baggage to once again throw icy caution on what was happening inside her body.
He stripped off her slacks and her underpants in one efficient motion, undoing the snap and zipper on his shorts, shoving them down and kicking them off. She locked her arms tighter around his neck as he lifted her, resting her bottom on the edge of the table, cupping her buttocks and supporting her with his hands, both of them trembling and wild with need.
Then, simultaneously, the telephone on the kitchen counter rang and they heard the unmistakable sound of David's car pulling into the driveway at the front of the house, followed in quick succession by the slam of the car door, his cheerful whistle, and the sound of his size-thirteen boots taking the outside stairs two at a time.
Alex snatched up her clothing and dashed for the stairs. Behind her she could hear Cameron swearing in a steady, vicious stream. The telephone was still ringing when she slammed the bedroom door and leaned against it, panting and trembling, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. Pavarotti was curled snugly in the middle of the bed, and he raised his head and gave her an affronted look.