Not Even for Love (15 page)

Jordan would never remember how long they trudged through the blinding snow, battling the wind and the icy pel-lets that beat against their unprotected faces. This wasn’t a gentle snowfall. It was a full-fledged blizzard, carrying as much icy sleet as snow in its frigid winds.

She was exhausted. Each breath became more labored and ragged. Her lungs were burning from the abuse. Her legs throbbed painfully and her muscles were cramped from the cold.

When she was sure she was about to drop, Reeves reached for her hand and virtually dragged her along behind him. She was about to object to their rigorous pace when she realized that he had altered their direction. They were now moving laterally. She raised her head and peered out from beneath the blanket. A dark shadow against the gray-white world took form. It was a shed.

She hastened her leaden footsteps. In a matter of moments they collapsed together against the weathered exterior wall of the small building. They gasped for air, waiting long minutes until their heartbeats had slowed considerably and their respiration was closer to normal.

Without moving his body as he leaned against the wall, Reeves turned his head and looked at her. “How are you doing?” He smiled, and that in itself warmed Jordan.

She rested her head on his shoulder and murmured, “I’m fine.”

“Let’s see if we can get into this… whatever it is.”

“It’s a tool shed. They dot the sides of the mountains,” she explained. “If a farmer has a pasture in the higher elevations, he uses these tool sheds to store equipment and supplies. That way he doesn’t have to haul it up and down the mountain.”

“Very ingenious. I could kiss our farmer.”

She laughed in spite of their grim circumstances.

Reeves tried the door and found that it hadn’t even been locked. “Trusting soul,” he commented as he went in first to check out the shelter. He swung wide the door and said, “Hey, this is great. Jordan come on in.”

She stepped through the low door and her eyes scanned the single room. Its walls were as rough as the exterior, but they were sturdy and snug. There were several hand tools stashed in one corner, a dismantled plow in another. A wooden bucket was hanging by a peg on one wall. On the wall opposite the door stood an ancient Franklin stove.

“I think they were expecting us,” Reeves laughed as he crossed the room, rubbing his hands together. He knelt down to inspect the stove. “There’s even some wood here,” he said excitedly.

Jordan laughed, happy to be safe inside the shelter and not still roaming aimlessly through the storm. She took the blanket off her head and shook her hair free. She spread the blanket over the tools, hoping it would dry out. The wet smell of wool mingled with the close, musty smell of the tool shed, but to her, at that moment, the enclosure seemed like paradise.

Reeves stood up and brushed his hands clean of the soot he had picked up from the stove. For long moments they stood there, staring at each other over the expanse of rough plank flooring. They had come through a harrowing experience and survived it. And as tragedy does to those who have shared it—even to strangers—it cemented their relationship.

She took one shaky step toward him and then he was there, clasping her in his arms as if he’d never let her go. He buried his face in her hair, murmuring incoherent words that were clear enough to her, for it was the emotion they conveyed that was important. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed herself as close to him as she could. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she blotted them with the soft knit of his sweater.

“What is this?” he asked gently as he tilted her head up. “Tears? Don’t you like the idea of being marooned with me? Hm?” He smiled tenderly.

“I was scared, Reeves.”

“Didn’t I tell you I’d take care of you? Don’t you trust me?”

“Yes, but I —”

“It’s all right,” he comforted as he smoothed her hair back from her pale, troubled face. “I was scared too for a while. But I was confident that something would turn up and it did. Now I’ve repaid you for saving me during the thunderstorm.”

She nestled close to him again, savoring his strength, which flowed into her, warming her. “You were no trouble.” Then a mischievous sparkle came into her blue-ringed gray eyes as she looked up at him. “I’d have done the same for anyone.”

He pushed her away from him, though he kept his hands tight on her arms. “Do you want me to kick your little fanny out in the snow again?” he asked, scowling at her menacingly.

“Would you?” she asked, swaying toward him slightly and reaching for him provocatively.

He broke into another wide grin and crushed her against him. “Hell, no. You know I wouldn’t.” Demanding lips came down on hers like a scorching brand. His hands were bold as they moved over her body, touching her, claiming her. Jordan was breathless, but his mouth was ruthless and didn’t settle for less than total abdication. When at last he pulled away, she sagged against him.

“I surrender,” she sighed.

He chuckled. “Now we’re even. Just remember that if we’re ever shipwrecked on a desert island, it’s your turn again to rescue me.” He kissed her quickly. “Now we’d better scout around here and see what we can see. You bring in the things from outside and I’ll try to start a fire in this stove. I hope nothing has clogged the chimney,” he mused aloud as he inspected the joints of the metal chimney.

She brought in her backpack, the picnic basket, and his camera from where they had left them under the narrow overhang of the roof. While he crouched in front of the stove, arranging the wood and striking the matches someone had obligingly left on a shelf, she cautiously explored among the tools. Behind them she found two tarps that were moldy and dusty, but would help insulate the floor. She spread them out near the stove, where Reeves had been successful in starting a fire.

“We have enough wood for a while, if we don’t splurge on it. I’ll see if some is stored outside. If my guess is right, this shed has served this purpose before. That bucket looks like the kind one would use to haul water. I’ll bet there’s a stream close by. I’m going to try to find it.”

“No,” Jordan cried in a high, tense voice. “Reeves, please don’t go out again.”

“I’ll be all right. I’ll keep the shed in sight. I need to try to find us some water before dark.”

“What time is it?” she asked. It was already gloomy outside.

“After seven o’clock. How did I manage to sleep so long out there?” he asked.

“You were relaxed.”

His brows hooded his eyes as he looked at her devilishly. “Well, some parts of me were relaxed, while other parts—”

“Reeves!” she rebuked him softly.

He was laughing as he took the bucket from the peg on the wall. “I’ll be right back. You stay inside no matter how long I’m gone.”

“Be careful.”

He cradled her cheek with his free hand. “I promise. Kiss me good-bye.” She went up on her toes and kissed him sweetly on the mouth.

He didn’t speak again before he went out into the storm and slammed the door behind him. Left alone, Jordan paced the shed restlessly, listening for the sound of his return. She went to the stove, picked up a log from the stack, remembered that they must be conservative, and returned it.

She checked the blanket. It was still damp, so she moved it nearer to the fire. She was nervous and her nerves only increased a problem that had been plaguing her for an hour or more. Why had she drunk so much wine with lunch?

“I won’t think about it,” she said aloud. But the harder she tried not to think about it, the more aware of her discomfort she became. Finally, she decided there was only one solution. She would have to go outside and relieve the problem.

At the door she listened to the howling wind and almost changed her mind, but she flung open the door before she could think about it any longer. She pulled the door firmly closed behind her. Huddling against the wind, she scuttled around one side of the building. The land sloped away from it and the immediate area had been cleared of trees. She decided it was too wide open. Dashing around to the back of the shed, she saw a crib where firewood and heavier farm implements had been stored. She stepped over the rail of the crib and hid herself between the stacks of wood.

When she was done, she refastened her jeans, sighing in tremendous relief. She wasted no time in climbing out of the crib and running back to the front of the shed.

With her head lowered in protection from the stinging wind, she didn’t see Reeves before she ran headlong into him. She jerked her head up. His eyes were wild, his mouth anguished. He held her in a death grip. Stumbling over their own feet, he dragged her back into the shed and shut the door, still clasping her to him.

“God, Jordan, don’t ever do that to me again.” His voice was quivering. “You scared the hell out of me.” He dropped to the tarps on the floor and took several heaving breaths.

She wasn’t sure what she had done, but she stammered an apology. “I’m …I’m sorry…I didn’t …”

“I came back in and you weren’t here. I thought you had gone out to find me. I died a thousand deaths.” He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulled her down beside him, and held her close. “Where
were
you?”

“I had to go to the bathroom.”

He laughed then in relief. “I didn’t think of that.”

She leaned against him. “Did you get some water?”

“Yeah.” He indicated the full bucket standing next to the stove. “But in light of what you just did to me, you can’t drink any.”

“Tyrant.”

“That’s right. I’m a jealous despot.” He kissed her with hard, unyielding lips. “This is my castle and don’t you forget it.”

“You’d better treat me nice. I know where the extra firewood is hidden,” she said cockily.

He tweaked her nose. “So do I. I saw it on my way out.”

“Oh.” She gnawed her bottom lip in make-believe helplessness. “Then pray tell, Exalted One, what I can do to stay in your good graces.” Her eyelashes fluttered so comically that Reeves bit his lip to keep from bursting out with laughter.

He stretched out on the tarp and propped himself on his elbows. “I don’t know. I’ll be thinking on it while you serve me dinner.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She bowed her head and then, when she raised it, stuck out her tongue at him.

“Thirty lashes,” he roared, pointing a condemning finger at her.

She faked a swoon that brought her along his side in a most delicious proximity. “Oh, kind sir, I beg you to have mercy.” She shifted her weight until she was leaning over him.

“Very well. Thirty lashes or thirty kisses.”

She considered her alternatives for a moment, her eyes squinted and her brow furrowed. “Thirty lashes,” she said impudently. Immediately she was rolled to her back and pinned beneath him.

“I’ve changed my mind. No mercy,” he growled before he kissed her. What had started out playfully soon became serious, and her arms folded across his neck. A sea of passion engulfed them and it was long moments before they broke the surface.

He dropped light kisses on each feature of her face. “Jordan?”

“Hm?”

“I’m starving.”

“How romantic.”

“I’ve got to keep up my strength,” he said defensively.

“So you can blaze a trail down the mountain?”

His eyes lit up with a wicked gleam. “Oh, what I could do with that leading line,” he said. “But you’d probably slap my face, so I’ll just say that blazing a trail down the mountain is only one course I plan to chart.”

She blushed to the roots of her hair and hastily jumped to her feet. “I’ll get the food ready. At least we’ll eat well as long as we’re stranded.”

The blanket was drying, but Jordan decided to leave it where it was. They could spread out their supper on the tarp. Reeves pulled his sweater over his head. He had taken off the windbreaker when he came in from the stream. “If you’ll excuse my bad manners, I’m going to take this thing off. Hauling the water was exerting. Not to mention…other stimulation.”

She tried to keep her eyes away from his chest, but couldn’t. She watched as he poured water from the bucket over a handkerchief and bathed his face, neck, and chest with the damp cloth. It reminded her of the time he had dried himself with her towel after she had let him in out of the rain.

Had that only been four days ago? Four days. Yet they were so familiar. She recognized his facial expressions and was able to interpret them. His tones of voice, his gestures were as familiar to her as her own—probably more so. Some lovers, she felt sure, didn’t know each other near this well even after being together for years.

She and Reeves wouldn’t have years. Days? Hours? The thought shattered her. She loved him, but he would walk out of her life as unexpectedly as he had walked into it. When the next disaster struck, he and his camera would be on their way to witness it. And she would be left behind with nothing but bittersweet memories.

Her face must have revealed some of her thoughts, for when he turned around Reeves looked at her closely. “Jordan? Is something wrong?”

Embarrassed at being caught, she stuttered, “Nnnno. I … I…You’re all cleaned up and I must look terrible.” She scrambled across the tarp and picked up her backpack, putting her back to him. “Can you give me a minute?”

“Take your time. I’ll pour the wine.”

“You’ll let me drink wine again?” she asked over her shoulder as she peeled off her sweater.

“Only in moderation,” he said with mock seriousness.

Jordan took a mirror out of her backpack, thankful that she had brought along a few grooming items. Her cheeks didn’t need artificial color. They were rosy from the wind and cold. To prevent chapping, she smoothed a moisturizing lotion on them. Her eyes were sparkling in the firelight so she didn’t bother to add more eye makeup. She whisked on a dollop of lip gloss and brushed her hair vigorously.

Luckily she had brought a purse atomizer of Norell, and she misted it around her neck and chest. Eyeing herself critically, she thought she didn’t look bad for being stranded on a mountain. Hesitantly, she unbuttoned the first three buttons of the oxford cloth blouse to relieve its severity.

When she turned around, Reeves whistled long and low. She laughed. “Thank you. I know I don’t deserve such a lavish compliment, but I appreciate it anyway.”