by Leona Karr
Jill locked the door, adjusted the flow of water from the bathtub shower, and ignored the tingling of her skin as she quickly stripped. She breathed heartfelt thanks for the stream of hot water, which filled the room with steam as she showered.
After briskly rubbing herself with one of the large, sweet-smelling towels, she dressed in a pink turtleneck sweater and blue jeans. Never one to spend a lot of time on toiletries, she brushed damp bangs onto her forehead and French braided the rest of her dark brown hair in a long plait over one shoulder. This simple hairstyle was flattering, and she was glad that she had decided several years ago to give up beauty-shop haircuts and perms. After a quick touch of pale gloss lipstick and a dusting of face powder to dull the shine on her slightly pug nose, she was ready to face the day.
The Millers’ door was still closed when she was ready to go downstairs. She heard men’s voices as she went down the hall to the kitchen and found Larry, Scotty and the cook sitting at the table talking, eating, laughing and drinking coffee. The conversation broke off abruptly when she came in, and from the expressions on their faces, she suspected someone had been telling an off-color joke.
“Good morning.” She sent a smile around the table, determined not to let them make her feel like an intruder. All of them hastened to return her greeting.
“Morning.”
“Sleep well?”
“Ready for breakfast?”
As her gaze passed around the table, they all seemed perfectly at ease with her, but had one of them been in her room going through her things. Which one?
“Have a chair,” Kirby invited, getting up.
“Thanks, but I want to use the telephone first and check up on my son.”
The cook shook his head. “Phone’s out”
Jill’s voice was slightly unsteady as her stomach muscles tightened. “Are you sure?”
“Deader than a doornail.” Kirby thoughtfully massaged his narrow chin. “Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s out for quite a spell.”
“You worried about your boy?” Scotty asked. “Isn’t someone looking after him?”
“Yes. He’s in good hands. But I don’t like the idea of being completely cut off from him,” she said as the reality of being snowbound hit her with unexpected force. Even though she knew that Zeb could be trusted with Randy’s safety, she needed reassurance that all was well with her son. Until that moment, she had not felt completely trapped. She chafed at the sudden helplessness that poured over her. Being totally isolated in this ranch house with strange men and with no way to contact her son or anyone else suddenly brought home the reality of the storm’s total isolation.
“Might as well sit down and have some breakfast,” Kirby said briskly, holding out a chair for her next to Larry. “Won’t be much grub left once these fellows get through loading up their plates.”
Jill wasn’t hungry, but she sat down at the table. Her appetite had been curbed by tight stomach muscles. She knew without looking outside that the house and everything else was still being buried in the blizzard.
“Guess we’re all damn lucky we made it here,” Larry said as he leaned back in his chair.
Jill’s nod was forced.
“I’m surprised the electricity hasn’t gone out,” Scotty said. “Wind must have been heavier down at my place.”
“Radio says the whole area is socked in,” Kirby offered. “Not a chance of getting the roads cleared for at least another twenty-four hours.”
“I was hoping I could ski out later today,” Larry said. “But I guess I’ll have to stick around till the storm lifts.” He grinned at Jill. “Might as well enjoy ourselves. Don’t you agree, Jill?”
His suggestive tone irked her. Larry’s tanned face was a sharp contrast to the weather outside, and Jill wondered if the skier spent time on a tanning machine. With his blond hair and blue eyes, all the man needed was a heavy Scandinavian accent to pass for a Nordic athlete. There was an air of conceit about him that she didn’t like.
“I thought you skiers were crazy enough to get out in any kind of weather.” Scotty’s tone was one of slight distaste as he goaded Larry.
Larry didn’t seem to notice or chose to ignore it. “Takes a blizzard like this to keep us indoors, that’s for sure. Of course, there are benefits to getting snowbound.” Once more he leveled his blue eyes on Jill. “You know something? I didn’t realize it until this morning but I’ve seen you around the heliport office. You work for Slade’s Adventures, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“I thought so,” he said with satisfaction.
Jill didn’t remember him, but then she stayed pretty much in her office, avoiding the traffic of vacationers coming and going on flights into the high mountain country.
“Sometimes I drive the resort shuttle to pick up skiers when they arrive. I guess you never noticed me,” Larry said tipping his chair back and smiling at her.
“No, but the place gets pretty busy and crowded with skiers arriving and leaving all the time.”
“Yeah, I know. Who would have thought we’d be thrown together like this? I’m glad I’m here.” He winked at her. “You might need someone to protect you from all these good old boys.”
Kirby snorted as he brought Jill some coffee. “Look who’s talking? A ski bum with an earring.” The tattoo on the cook’s arm moved with a flexed muscle. “You couldn’t protect a baby chick in a henhouse, sonny boy.”
Larry let his tipped chair slam to the floor and jerked to his feet. “Wanna bet?”
“Hey, hold it, fellows.” Scotty glared at both of them. “If Jill needs any protection, I’ll take care of it.” The freckles on his ruddy face stood out like pox.
Jill wanted to laugh. Was this some kind of mountain he-man acting out? She wasn’t even flattered to be the center of this ridiculous display of machismo. If there hadn’t been a charged undercurrent in the room, she would have made fun of the whole exchange, but she sensed that the men were dead serious. She decided the best way to handle this clash of aggressive male hormones was to dismiss it. “It’s too early in the morning for heroics,” she said with a wave of her hand. “What’s for breakfast, Kirby?” she asked the cook with false lightness. “Are those fresh biscuits?”
Kirby nodded, but he didn’t take his eyes from Larry until the skier sat back down. Then the cook turned back to the stove and lifted some biscuits from a pan onto a plate.
“Hal will have all our necks in a sling if we start any rough stuff,” Scotty cautioned.
“Where is Hal?” Jill asked, wishing that their host would make his presence known before muscle-flexing houseguests and hired men started shoving each other around.
“Out at the barn. He and Zack are looking after the horses. Not much else they can do in this weather. The rest of the livestock will have to survive on their own. He lost all his spring calves a while back. Just got sick and died.” Scotty shook his head. “Tough break.”
“Hard enough to make a place like this pay when things are going good,” Kirby agreed, setting a plate of sausage and biscuits in front of Jill. “Keeps the three of us hustling, taking care of the stock and the house.”
She started to protest that she didn’t eat sausage or bacon, but she didn’t want to antagonize Kirby, so she buttered a biscuit and nibbled on a link sausage.
Scotty leaned back in his chair. “Plenty of speculators offering good money for land round here.”
“I wonder how long Hal will hold out.” Kirby frowned. “I’ve been here nearly six years. Kinda gotten used to the place.”
“You could probably get a job at one of the resorts,” Larry said. “They’re always advertising for a greasy fry cook.”
Before Kirby could react to the deliberate insult, Scotty cut in. “I been thinking about selling out myself, but there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than fishing and shooting the breeze with the folks who rent my cabins.” The Scotsman chuckled deeply. “I tried working and decided loafing was better.”
“Sounds good to me,” Larry agreed wistfully.
“What do you do for a living, Larry?” Scotty asked bluntly.
“A little of this and that,” the blond skier answered. “Keeping my eyes open for a bonanza. All of this valley is going to be condos one day, just like Aspen and Vail,” he said with conviction. “Greatest ski country in the world. Do you ski, Jill?”
“No, I haven’t tried it yet.”
“That will never do. How about a private lesson or two?” Larry leaned toward her. “I bet I could have you on the slopes in record time. What about it? Is it a date? They tell me I’m a great teacher.” His eyes narrowed suggestively.
“Well, my son has been talking about learning to ski,” Jill answered evenly, ignoring the obvious come-on. “Maybe we could arrange a lesson or two for Randy.”
Kirby laughed openly. “Way to go, Jill. Guess she got you on that one, big boy.”
Scotty joined in the ribbing. “I’m sure teaching your son was exactly what Larry had in mind.”
To his credit, the skier tried to act amused but didn’t quite make it. Obviously, Larry resented being rebuffed, thought Jill. Thank heavens, there was little likelihood of their paths crossing again. A conceited ski bum was not on her list of people she cared to have in her life.
“Are you as good at playing pool as you are at skiing?” Scotty challenged Larry. “Or would you like a few lessons from the master?”
“I can hold my own with a master,” Larry answered crisply. “If the master has a few bucks to make the game interesting.”
“A Scotsman is always ready to accept honest winnings,” Scotty replied, easing to his feet. “Come along, let’s give Hal’s pool table a warm-up. How about you, Jill? Want to play or watch?”
“Neither, thanks,” she answered quickly. “I’ll be busy with the Millers this morning, as soon as they’re up and about.”
The two men left the room. She had just finished her second biscuit, and Kirby was refilling her coffee cup when Gary came into the kitchen.
“How are you and Sue this morning?” Jill asked him. She thought the young man looked less tired than the evening before, but there were still worry lines in his forehead.
“The storm kept us awake till after midnight.” He searched her face. “Do you think it’s ever going to let up? We’re not going to get out of here today, are we?”
“Doesn’t look that way.”
He groaned. “Sue’s going to have a fit. She’s already up and about, getting our things together. She’s planning on getting dressed and coming downstairs shortly.”
“That’s good news. After breakfast we’ll try to find something to pass away the time,” Jill said. Time was going to be heavy on all their hands. Maybe they could take a tour of the house and enjoy some of its rustic charm. Of course, Hal might regard such interest as snooping. Jill wondered if she should tell him that someone had gone through her backpack. No, she decided. Maybe Hal had checked her out himself. Because she was from California, he might have been worried that she was a city girl who couldn’t go anywhere without a stash of drugs. Or he could have told Kirby to check out her belongings. Somehow she didn’t think the cook would do it of his own volition, but someone had.
A few minutes later Kirby left the kitchen to join the pool players in the den and Gary took breakfast trays upstairs, leaving Jill sitting alone in the kitchen. She was still thinking about her backpack, and the possibility that Hal had been the one who searched it, when Hal himself came in from outdoors. Her suspicious thoughts made her quickly give her attention to her coffee.
AS HAL DISCARDED his coat and hat, he felt a sudden joy at seeing her sitting there in a pink sweater that hugged her breasts and slender waist. The whole kitchen seemed to take on a glow with her presence. Her brown hair glistened with a clean freshness that made him want to bury his nose in its softness. She’d been in his thoughts since dinner last night, and he’d found himself wanting to hurry his chores so he could get back to the house. When she deliberately turned her eyes away from him and stared at her coffee cup, he felt like someone had doused him with cold water.
He hardly knew what to say, so he settled on a brief, “Good morning.”
“Morning,” she replied, keeping her eyes lowered as she sipped her coffee.
He slid into a chair opposite her. Beating around the bush wasn’t his style. “What’s wrong, Jill? If there’s something not to your liking, come out with it. Is it your room? Your bed?”
Her head came up. “My bedroom is lovely. The bed was wonderful. It’s not that.”
“Then what? There was less of a chill in the barn,” he said with a wry smile. “Did I do or say something?” He watched uncertainty flicker across her face, and then her eyes steadily met his as if she had decided to be upfront about whatever was bothering her.
“All right.” She drew a deep breath. “Someone went through my backpack. I don’t know why, but someone was snooping through my things. They didn’t take anything. My wallet was in a zippered compartment, and none of my money was gone. Nor anything else that I can tell.”
“Then how do you know?”
As she told him about the bookmark, an uneasy trembling was evident in her voice. “The marker must have fallen to the floor when the book was taken out. I wouldn’t have known about the search if the bookmark hadn’t been beside the bed. I don’t know who or why. I’m just telling you that I know someone went through my things.”
“I see.” Now he understood her cold reception. “And you think it could have been me.”
“It could have been anyone in the house,” she said evenly. “But I admit I was thinking that you might be checking me out.”
He leaned back in his chair, not knowing whether to be insulted or amused. “And why would I search your backpack?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know why anyone would.”
“Neither do I. I’m sorry it happened. I don’t have any idea who did it, but I’ll try to find out.” Who in the devil was fooling around in her room? He had no way of knowing. Kirby and Zack had slept in the den. Scotty and the young skier had shared an upstairs bedroom next to his, and the Millers were in the room across from Jill. Counting himself, there were six men in the house and two women. How in the hell could he know who was snooping around?
“If nothing was taken, I guess there’s no harm done,” he said reassuringly. She nodded, but something in her manner told him the incident had disturbed her deeply, even scared her. He was surprised. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman to be easily frightened. “Keep your door locked when you’re in your room,” he told her. “I’ll be around to keep an eye on you.”
“You may have to stand in line,” she said with a grateful smile. “I’ve already had several offers this morning.”
“It figures,” he answered, returning her smile as he got up and poured himself coffee. A pretty gal in the house with four single men. He’d bet there were compliments flying all over the place. Leaning back against one of the counters, he sipped his drink in companionable silence.
Jill was uncomfortably aware of his forceful presence as she glanced up at him. His clean-shaven face had a healthy glow from his time outside and, once again, his light-colored hair was slightly curly from dampness. He wore a faded pair of Wrangler jeans and a bright plaid shirt. Avoiding his candid blue eyes, she asked about the storm.
“The temperature’s still dropping. If this deep freeze lasts much longer, I’ll be lucky to save half the stock.” He frowned. “Don’t know how I’ll make up for the loss. Not much of a profit margin as it is.”
“I’m sorry. It doesn’t seem fair. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to sell the ranch.”
“Sell it?” His eyes darkened. “Who’s been talking to you?”
“Someone just mentioned that land investors were interested in buying the property.” She didn’t know what else to say and felt like an idiot for having mentioned something that she knew absolutely nothing about. As
he remained silent, lost in thought, she was aware of an underlying sadness about him that she had missed before. Tiny lines etched around his eyes deepened and made her wonder what personal battles he’d fought.
He turned around to the coffeepot and filled his cup again. “This storm is still kicking up. No telling how long we’re going to be cooped up like this. What about the Millers? Have you seen them this morning?”
She nodded. “Gary says Sue is feeling fine. I think getting out of her room would be good for her. You have a lot of interesting things in the house. Would you mind if we looked around?”
“I don’t mind. Even if the weather breaks, I don’t think they should be in a hurry to leave. Nor should any of the rest of you. Better stay put. Traveling when the roads are ice-packed is pure stupidity.”
She was surprised by his generosity. Obviously he was a man who valued his privacy. She would have bet that he was ready to send them all on their way at the earliest opportunity. “It’s a blessing you were able to rescue the Millers when you did.”
“Darn lucky. The storm hadn’t even settled in and they were slipping all over the road. If they’d been driving decent wheels, they might have beaten the storm to the Kansas border. Those tiny foreign cars—” He broke off as a loud shout vibrated through the house and they heard someone yell, “Yahoo!”
Hal’s head jerked up. “What’s going on?”
Jill laughed. “Scotty and Larry are in the den playing pool. Sounds as if somebody made a good shot.”
Hal’s eyebrows lifted. “I hope they’re not betting. Scotty’s the worst kind of a hustler.”
“Uh-oh,” Jill said, remembering the way the Scotsman had challenged the skier. “I think it’s too late.”
“I’d better see if I can keep the lid on.”
Scotty waved his pool cue in greeting as they came in. Larry was staring at the table as if trying to decide on the best shot, while Kirby leaned up against the bar, grinning.