Phantom Waltz

by Catherine Anderson

  Bethany huddled as best she could on the floorboard, shivering so hard her teeth clacked. It seemed to her that hours went by before she heard the distant sound of an engine. Her heart leaped with gladness. She craned her neck, trying to see out the window above her, but the snowfall was so thick, visibility was no more than a few feet.

  Finally she heard what could only be Ryan’s snowmobile approaching the highway to the north of her. The rumble grew faint, telling her the driver had turned the opposite way. Soon the sounds drifted into silence.

  What if he failed to find her? She could no longer see out the windshield. What if her van was no longer visible to someone on the road?

  Minutes later she heard the snowmobile returning. “Ryan!” she cried. “Ryan, I’m down here!”

  When the vehicle finally rumbled to a stop somewhere near the van, she nearly wept with relief. The engine sputtered and went quiet. Then she heard boots crunching on the snow.

  “Bethany?”

  His voice sounded so wonderful. Before she could reply, the passenger door opened and she nearly slid out of the van onto her head.

  “Whoa, girl. I’ve got you.”

  “Ryan!”

  Never had anyone felt so good. Just as she had imagined, his strong arms gathered her close. Bethany clung to his warmth, shuddering uncontrollably.

  “Oh, Ryan.”

  She felt him run a hand over her hip. “I’m sorry, honey, but I’ve got to check you myself to be sure you’re not hurt.”

  She blinked and peered over her shoulder, the oddest feeling of separateness coming over her as she watched him hike up her skirt and run big, brown hands the length of her twisted legs. His long fingers prodded the flesh-colored nylon of her support tights, and she realized he was searching for bone fractures. Normally she would have been humiliated beyond bearing. Her legs lay in an immodest sprawl at awkward angles to her body. Only this was Ryan. Not just any man. Watching the careful way he touched her, she couldn’t quite muster a feeling of embarrassment.

  He sighed, the sound conveying his vast relief. “You seem okay.” He drew her skirt back down, then gently rearranged her legs, keeping one hand cupped over her knees as he lowered them to the floor. “Thank God for that. Huh?” He hunched his shoulders around her and tightened his embrace, pressing his face against her hair. Melting snow dripped off the brim of his Stetson and plopped on her sleeve. She felt the tension ease from his body. “Damn, honey. Talk about scaring the hell out of a fellow. I was so afraid you might be hurt.”

  Through chattering teeth, Bethany said, “I t-told you I wa-wasn’t.”

  He abandoned his grip on her knees, and she felt him twisting at the waist. The next instant, his heavy jacket settled around her shoulders, the lining still warm from his body. The heat felt sublime.

  He reached around her to get the phone and dialed the state police. An instant later he was speaking to a dispatcher. He quickly explained that it was unnecessary now for an officer to be sent out. After ending the call, he tucked the phone into a pocket of the jacket he’d wrapped around her. Then he smiled and gathered her close again. He looked strong and capable, the collar of his shirt flapping in the wind. The ever-present black Stetson was caked with snow.

  “I can wear my own coat, Ryan,” she protested. “You’ll freeze.”

  “I’m inured to the cold. Remember? And my jacket’s already warm. Maybe it’ll help to chase the chill off you. We’ll use your coat to cover your legs.”

  As he spoke, he lifted both the coat and her into his arms. Bethany hugged his neck, so glad he was there that for once it didn’t alarm her to be picked up.

  “One question. What in the hell are you doing out on these roads today?”

  Against his wet collar, she said, “The weather report didn’t predict snow. I went to Bend to pick up an order.”

  “This is Oregon, remember? And high in the mountains, no less. Never, and I do mean never, take a weather report as gospel in this country. The storm front was supposed to pass over north of us, but it changed direction. I’ve been smelling snow in the air for the past two days.”

  “You have?”

  He struck off up the bank. When he reached the snowmobile, he set her on the saddle seat, then covered her legs with her coat. Bethany grabbed hold of the handlebars to maintain her perch while he dug through a plastic storage compartment behind her. He dragged out two heavy lap robes and a silver insulated blanket, all three of which he wrapped around her, the silver sheet going on last to block the wind.

  The entire time he was tucking the blankets around her legs, he lectured her. “The next time you take off on a long trip, you call me, and I’ll go with you. There are maniacs out on these roads. What if you get a flat?”

  “I can always call for road service.”

  “Like hell. I’ve got a friend who’s a cop. He lectures women’s groups on highway safety. Even if you call for road service, it’s dangerous to remain with your vehicle. Psychos look for easy targets, and a lone woman who has car trouble along a deserted highway is one of the easiest targets on earth. You’ve heard people say to just put a flag on the antenna and lock the doors?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s the worst thing you can do. You’re virtually sending out signals to anyone who drives by that you’re all alone, broken down, and helpless. Some creep grabs a tire iron, bashes in the glass, and you’re next.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “Yeah, ‘oh, my,’ is right.” Snowflakes gathered on their faces as his steel-blue eyes met hers. In their depths, Bethany saw more fear than anger. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. No long trips by yourself anymore. Agreed?”

  “Sometimes I need to go places,” she said weakly.

  “From now on, you just holler, and I’ll go with you. I can always juggle my work to take a few hours off.” He sighed, closed his eyes for a second, and then hooked a hand over the back of her head and pressed his forehead against hers.

  “Damn. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell. Driving here, I kept thinking of all the things that could happen and praying no one else stopped.”

  Before she could reply, he was gone. She watched as he collected her keys and purse, then wrested her wheelchair from the van, locked the doors, and climbed back up the bank.

  “Is there anything else you’ll need tonight?” he asked.

  “Surely the road will be cleared before dark.”

  He put the chair in a carry rack at the rear of the snowmobile and secured it with bungee cords. “Take a gander at that snow coming down. The highway will be closed until they can get it plowed, and even after they do, it’ll be slick. Where’s the point in taking you home when you’re welcome at my place?”

  “All I’ve got with me that’s important is in my purse. I didn’t plan to be away overnight.”

  “You have enough medication to last you?”

  “No. I didn’t think I’d be gone overnight and haven’t got it with me.”

  “What all do you take?”

  “Just Coumadin, a blood thinner, and a muscle relaxant at bedtime to prevent leg spasms.”

  He thought a moment. “A couple of glasses of wine will keep your blood thin, and it should work as a muscle relaxant as well. I’ll double-check with my mom, just to be sure.”

  After stowing her things in the storage compartment, he mounted the snowmobile behind her. Sitting sideways as she was, her shoulder butted his chest as he drew her close. After telling her to hug his waist, he started the engine.

  “You steady on?” he asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Hold tight, honey. I’ll take it easy.”

  Bethany burrowed her face against his shirt comforted by the solid warmth of him radiating through the wet cloth. After he got the snowmobile shifted into gear, he locked a strong arm around her. The vehicle surged powerfully beneath them, and they were off.

  Oddly, she felt perfectly safe even when the snowmobile leaned sharply and
she slipped on the seat. Ryan had a firm hold on her. The noise of the engine made talking difficult, so she simply hugged him tightly and relaxed. It was heavenly to feel at least marginally warm again.

  Traveling cross-country instead of by road, Ryan was able to cut off several miles, and it didn’t take long to reach his ranch. For that, he was thankful. However, he could feel Bethany shivering violently. He needed to get her warmed up—and fast.

  His dog Tripper came bounding through the falling snow to greet them when Ryan pulled up near the house. He spoke softly to the mutt, but didn’t give him the expected ear scratch and pat, choosing instead to gather Bethany up in his arms and hurry inside. He carried her directly to the great room where he’d been about to light a fire when she called. After depositing her on the sofa, he grabbed the portable phone and dialed his parents’ place.

  His mom answered on the third ring. Ryan quickly related the situation to her. “I need to get her into a hot bath,” he concluded. “Can you come over?”

  Ann sighed theatrically, the sound drifting faintly to Ryan over the phone line. “Dear heart, have you looked outside? Those are blizzard conditions.”

  “I realize that, Mom. Just hop on the snowmobile.”

  “Not when it’s snowing this hard. I could drive off into the lake.”

  His mother could drive the lakeshore with her eyes closed. “Take it slow. I really need you, Mom. Another woman, you know?”

  Ann sighed again. “Ryan, dear. This is Bethany, the girl who’s had your tail tied in a knot for the last week?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I see. The same Bethany you’ve been searching for all your life who has eyes like pansies?”

  “What’s your point?”

  Ann chuckled. “I think a wise man would handle this emergency himself.”

  Ryan thought she was teasing and laughed himself. “I appreciate the thought, Mom, but there’s a time and place for everything. This ain’t it.”

  “Use your head for something besides a hat rack,” Ann said with a smile in her voice. “Opportunity knocks. You said you were going with a friendship tack.”

  “Right.”

  “So … get friendly.”

  “Mom, I rea—”

  “Oops. My timer is going off. I have to run before the cookies burn.”

  “Mom! Don’t hang—”

  The line went dead. Ryan stared down at the phone, resisting the urge to cuss a blue streak.

  “What’s wrong?” Bethany asked, chattering with cold.

  Ryan put the portable back in its base. His mother had lost her mind, but somehow he didn’t think he should tell Bethany that. Smiling with his teeth clenched was a shade difficult. “Nothing, honey. Just the snow. With the visibility so poor, Mom’s afraid to ride over.”

  “Oh.” She huddled inside the blankets, gazing up at him with big, worried eyes. “I see.” She waited a beat, shivered, and then said, “I really don’t need a hot bath, anyway, though it was nice of you to think of it.”

  “You’re freezing. With such poor circulation in your legs, it’ll take hours for you to warm up without one.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “Manage?” Ryan scooped her up off the sofa. “We’ll manage, all right.”

  “I can’t take a bath, not with only you here to help me.”

  “Sure you can. I can be a very inventive fellow when I set my mind to it.”

  Sitting in his upholstered rocker by the fire, Keefe Kendrick studied his wife with narrowed eyes. She was grinning like Lewis Carroll’s Cheshire cat as she hung up the telephone. “Annie, are you up to mischief?”

  She flashed him a startled look, her gray eyes shimmering. “Mischief?”

  He bit back a smile as she walked toward him. “You’re not afraid you’ll drive off in the lake, and if you’ve got cookies in the oven, I want some.”

  She lifted a slender shoulder in a shrug, her rounded hips displayed to mouthwatering advantage by her snug jeans. Even at sixty, his Annie was a looker, with gorgeous legs and perfectly shaped breasts that filled out her red sweater just the way he liked. “Sometimes Ryan needs a push to get moving.”

  She plopped her plump fanny on his lap and looped her arms around his neck. Keefe knew when his wife was trying to sidetrack him. He cocked an eyebrow. “What’re you up to?”

  “Hmm.” She nibbled his lip. “It’s snowing outside. I think snow is so romantic. Don’t you?” She wiggled her bottom, making a certain part of his anatomy turn hard. “Let’s open some wine and make love by the fire.”

  Keefe seized her bottom lip between his teeth and put just enough force into his bite to let her know he wasn’t as dimwitted as she might think. “Annie girl, are you interfering in your son’s love life?”

  She kissed him, using her tongue with such expertise he nearly forgot his question. “Never. I’m just being a good mother and completely resisting the temptation to interfere. That’s Bethany over at Rye’s place. The Bethany.”

  Keefe trailed questing fingers up her rib cage. His Annie was one sweet armful. “The girl with the incredibly blue eyes?” he asked huskily.

  “That’s the one. She got stranded in the storm, and Rye went to fetch her. She’s frozen half to death and needs a hot bath. He wanted me to go over and help. Silly boy. Like I’d dream of it. Though a hot bath has interesting possibilities.”

  Keefe pushed suddenly to his feet. She bleated in surprise as he headed for the bathroom. Keefe’s mind was brimming with images of her, rosy from hot water and slick with scented soap. “A bath definitely has interesting possibilities,” he agreed with a low growl. “Sometimes, Annie girl, mischief can backfire.”

  Chapter Ten

  Bethany sat in the bathroom, her gaze fixed on the vanity mirror, lighted by an oak bar of globes that cast glaring brightness over her and everything else. Studying herself in the glass, she decided she resembled a shuddering stick baby with huge eyes and a mop of straggly hair. No wonder Ryan was worried. She couldn’t flex her leg muscles like most people to get her blood moving, which meant that half her body had an inefficient temperature-control system.

  She rubbed her arms but continued to shiver. Lifting the hem of her wool skirt, she touched her knee and found it was ice cold, even through the nylon mesh of her tights. Oh, how she wished she were at home in her familiar bathroom with all her trusty bathing equipment.

  A light tap came on the door. The sound startled her so that she jumped. “Come in,” she managed to say in a halfway normal voice.

  Her bath attendant entered—all six feet plus of him. Snow-drenched denim skimmed his long, well-muscled legs. With each step he took, his boots rapped the earth-brown tile, the sounds sharp and decisive as he advanced. He’d thrown on a dry shirt, which he hadn’t buttoned. The gaping front plackets revealed an expanse of rippling bronze chest, lightly furred with black hair that narrowed to a triangular swath as it descended to his flat, striated stomach.

  Her mouth went as dry as dirt, and all she could think to say was, “Hi.”

  “Hi,” he replied, his voice deep and vibrant. The sound made her skin feel as if it were humming. “All ready?”

  She’d never be ready. Her mother had helped her dress and undress enough times for her to know he couldn’t do this without getting an eyeful.

  His gaze as sharp as honed steel, he gave her a thoughtful once-over. From the waist down, she was still fully clothed. From there up, though, all she had on was an oversize T-shirt he’d lent her. Her blouse and bra lay in a neatly folded stack on the vanity, the bra at the bottom so he wouldn’t see it.

  The only bright spot in this entire, miserable mess was that he’d lent her a blue T-shirt instead of a white one. She knew from experience that white T-shirts became transparent the instant they got wet.

  “Is it still snowing?” she asked.

  “Yeah, it is. Sorry. No let up at all so far. I called Jake, by the way. I didn’t want your family to be worried about you. He sa
id he’ll go over to feed and water your kitty.” He startled her by suddenly hunkering down in front of her. His firm mouth tipped slowly into a grin as he reached up to push a damp tendril of hair from her face. “Honey, I hope all that shivering is from cold and not nerves. You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

  “Heavens, no.” She laughed shakily and then clamped her teeth together to keep them from chattering.

  “You sure?” He trailed his fingertip along her cheekbone, coming to a halt at her chin, where he spent a moment tracing the slight cleft with the back of a knuckle. “I’ve been trying to put myself in your shoes. It’s a little difficult. I know this has to be tough, though.”

  “I’m fine, Ryan. Honestly. I just wish a bath wasn’t necessary.”

  “I have it all figured out.”

  Uh-huh. He obviously hadn’t taken into account that without support bars or a dressing sling, she couldn’t even get her panties and tights off without help. At home, she managed by herself with her equipment, and even then, it was no easy task.

  “Trust me,” he said softly. “Good friends don’t embarrass each other.”

  “I just wish I were h-home, is all. I have everything I need there.”

  “I’m sorry I don’t have everything you need here. I will have soon.”

  “Oh, no. You mustn’t start buying stuff for me.”

  “Why not?”

  She knew there were a dozen good reasons, but she couldn’t readily think of one. “Because?”

  He chuckled. “One of the advantages of having so damned much money is being able to buy things for my friends whenever the mood strikes. Have you any idea how much fifty million earns annually in interest? My tax obligation looks like the national debt.”

  Bethany couldn’t conceive of having that much money. “You poor thing.”

  He narrowed an eye. “I’m running a business out here, and anything I buy to accommodate the handicapped, namely you, will be a much-needed write-off.”

  “I see.”

  “We do have handicapped buyers come out to look at our horses. If I want to buy stuff to make you more comfortable at my ranch, I’ll do it, no arguments. All right?”