Reilly's Woman (18 page)

His fingers closed over her elbow to help her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily for a moment, then found her balance. But Reilly didn't release his grip on her arm, his touch impersonal and cool, as he guided her toward the door.

"Thank you, Mrs. Edwards," Leah smiled when they paused near the screen door, "for everything."

There was a brief exchange of goodbyes before they went out to the car. Leah sat alone in the back seat, so she could stretch out and rest, Reilly had said. She was still tired and she did rest, but her thoughts kept straying to the man seated in front of her. Although she tried, she couldn't concentrate on the welcome she would receive when they arrived.

Several miles from the house, the ranch road joined a secondary road that led them to the highway. Mike Edwards' foot was heavy on the accelerator and the utility poles whizzed by the car window in a blur. Yet it was more than an hour before they reached the outskirts of Tonopah, Nevada.

They stopped in front of the building housing the sheriff's office. Leah straightened stiffly in her seat, wincing at the soreness of her muscles. Her fingers closed over the door handle, but Reilly was already out of the car, opening the door for her. His hand firmly gripped her elbow to help her out and steady her once she was standing on the sidewalk. She resisted when he tried to lead her toward the building.

When his cool jade eyes glanced questioningly at her, Leah spoke in a low voice so Mike Edwards couldn't overhear. "Reilly, please, we have to talk."

"About what?" His dark head was tipped to the side, his expression deliberately devoid of understanding.

She swallowed nervously. "About us."

"Leah, I don't see—" Reilly began, with an arrogant kind of patience.

"Leah!" A familiar voice interrupted him with the strident call of her name. "Leah!"

She turned slightly in the direction of the voice, and a smile of growing joy curved her mouth as she recognized the tall and lanky, sandy-haired man half walking and half running toward her.

"Lonnie!" The bubble of happiness made her brother's name a choked sound, so Leah said it again. "Lonnie!"

She took one step toward him. Beyond him she could see the blue Air Force uniform of her father emerging from a car along with vivacious figure of her mother. Then Lonnie's hands were on her waist, lifting her into the air and hugging her tightly as he swung her around.

"You're all right. You're all right!" her brother kept repeating as if to convince himself while he buried his head in her sunstreaked hair.

"Yes," Leah whispered with sobbing happiness. "Yes, I'm all right."

He finally let her feet touch the ground, and drew his head back to look at her, unmanly tears shimmering in his brown eyes. "You crazy little nut!" Every word reinforced the closeness of the bond between them. "What did you think you were doing?"

Tears flowed down her cheeks. "I was coming to see you—to surprise you for your birthday."

"Leah, my baby!" At the tearfully happy voice of her mother, Lonnie released her from his embrace, letting her turn to meet both their parents.

Leah was immediately engulfed in another tight embrace, her arms winding themselves around their mother and feeling the shudders of relief and happiness that coursed through her.

"My baby, my darling," her mother whispered over and over. "We've been so worried. They'd given you up for dead. We—"

"I'm all right, Momma." she slid one arm around her father's waist as he stood erectly beside them, unable to express his relief and joy. She hugged them both lightly. Her father's hand tentatively stroked her hair as she buried her face against the buttons of his uniform.

"You gave us quite a scare, child," he said tightly.
 

"I know, Daddy," Leah whispered. She tossed back her head and gazed into his face, seeing the love shining in his eyes that he couldn't express in words.

"Heavens, just look at you!" Her mother brushed the tears from her face, then shakily tried to do the same for Leah. "You're a sight, Leah Talbot! Your clothes are a mess. You must have lost ten pounds and you look as brown as an Indian."

Leah stiffened away from her parents, glancing frantically over her shoulder. Reilly wasn't standing beside the car where she had left him. Her heart leapt in fear. Then she saw him nearly at the building's entrance.

"Reilly!" She pulled the rest of the way free of her parents' arms, ignoring their confused frowns. Taking a quick step to follow him, she called again. "Reilly!"

She could see the tensing of his wide shoulders as he hesitated, then stopped. He pivoted back abruptly, impatience underlining his reluctance. She knew he had hoped to slip away unnoticed during the reunion with her parents.

"Reilly, don't leave—" Her voice lilted upward as she nearly tacked on 'me.' She tried to cover her lack of pride with, "I want you to meet my family."

His long strides covered the distance that separated them with an eagerness that said he wanted to get this over and be on his way. His implacable features could have been carved out of hard granite, an emotionless statue with impassive jewelled eyes of jade. He looked noble and proud, without feeling.

Leah was almost afraid that if she touched him, she too would turn to stone. Quickly she introduced him to her parents, her heart freezing at the distantly polite smile he gave them.

"This is Reilly Smith. We shared the charter of the plane," she explained tautly, feeling nervous and awkward. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him." Her voice sounded brittle with its forced cheerfulness.

There was a brief exchange of courteous responses to the introductions. Then Reilly took a withdrawing step backwards. "It was a pleasure meeting all of you," he said politely. "If you'll excuse me now, I have some things to attend to, and I know you'd like to be with your daughter.
"

As he started to turn away, Leah caught at his arm. "Where are you going?"

Reilly glanced at her hand on his arm, then blandly into her upturned face. "To the sheriff's office to give him an account of the plane crash."

"I should go with you." She didn't want to let him out of her sight. If she did, she was afraid she would never see him again.

"I'm certain I can answer any questions myself," he refused firmly. "If the sheriff needs to corroborate my story, he can talk to you after you've had some time to rest. Right now you're exhausted, too tired to think straight and know what you're saying."

Leah knew what he was implying—that she only imagined she was in love with him. Her teeth bit tightly into her lower lip to hide its tremor.

"I do know," she insisted in a choked murmur. Before he could stop her, she slid her arms around his waist and clung to him, burying her head against his chest to hear the beat of his heart and make certain he wasn't made of stone. In a voice so low that only he could hear, she cast aside her pride. "When will I see you again?"

His hands hesitated on her shoulders for a tantalizing moment, then slid firmly down to grasp her arms and push her away from him. Her eyes were tear-bright as she met the unrelenting indifference of his.

"Go with your parents, Leah. Get some food and some sleep." His hard mouth moved upward at the corners in what was supposed to be a smile, but it left her chilled. "We'll have dinner some time and laugh about our misadventure."

His cool gaze flicked briefly to her parents, then he released her and left. She watched him striding so easily away from her and felt a pain so intense that she wanted to die. Self-consciously she turned back to her family, glancing first at Lonnie.

Her brother's brown eyes had narrowed on the man's shirt she wore, resting briefly on the thrust of her breasts against the material. The absence of a brassiere was obvious. Quiet speculation was in his eyes when they raised to meet her glance before swinging to look at their father. His calculating gaze was directed at Reilly disappearing into the building.

Leah knew what was going through their minds. They had just realized she had spent eleven days alone with a man. Now they were wondering how she had spent the eleven nights.

Lonnie's arm curved around her shoulders and he hugged her against his side. "Let's take her back to the motel where she can clean up," he smiled at his parents. There was a challenging glint in his eyes when he met his father's gaze. "Then we'll eat, since Leah owes me a belated birthday dinner."

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

A HAND BRUSHED the hair away from her cheek, tucking it behind her ears, then running to rest gently along her cheek.

"Wake up, Leah," a male voice coaxed softly.

Her lashes fluttered but didn't open. "Mmmm." Contentedly she rubbed her cheek against the masculine hand. "Have I told you I love you?" she whispered with a blissful smile.

"Not lately," was the mocking reply.

"I love you, Reilly Smith." Her voice vibrated huskily with the depth of her emotion.

The hand was instantly withdrawn. "Wake up, Leah! You're dreaming," the voice ordered tightly.

With a start her eyes flashed open. Bewilderedly, Leah realized that she wasn't sleeping in Reilly's arms. She was in a bed, with a pillow instead of his shoulder beneath her head. And her brother Lonnie was standing beside the bed, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his trousers, a troubled frown drawing his eyebrows together.

Hot color flamed through her face as she realized she had mistaken her brother for Reilly and guessed the conclusion he must have jumped to at her words. She rolled on to her back, turning her head toward the window and the heavy drapes that had been drawn to shut out the sunlight.

"Is it time for dinner already?" Leah blinked, as if unaware of what she had revealed.

"Dinner?" His laugh, instead of being lightly teasing, had overtones of bitterness. "You've been asleep for nearly thirty-six hours."

"I have?" Her head jerked toward him in disbelief.

Leah started to sit up, then remembered she wasn't wearing anything and quickly drew the covers up under her arms before shifting into a half-sitting position. It seemed only a few hours ago that her mother had suggested she take a nap after her bath.

"Mom was going out to buy some clothes to wear." She nervously ran her fingers through her hair.

"They're over on the chair." He nodded his head abruptly toward the chair. "I'll go next door to the folks' room while you get dressed." Lonnie paused at the door, his hand on the knob. "Leah—" He seemed to hesitate.

"Yes?" She held her breath.

"Never mind," he sighed with an impatient shake of his head. "I'll meet you over there."

Afterward, Leah wished Lonnie had asked the question that had been uppermost in his mind. It would have eased the strange tension that suddenly sprang between them. She tried to be bright and cheerful, the way her parents expected her to be, when they breakfasted together later, but she kept lapsing into moody silences, her thoughts wandering to Reilly—where he was—what he was doing—when or if she would see him.

Partly the cause was due to the subject of their conversation which continued when they returned to her parents' room. Her parents were naturally interested in receiving a first-hand account of what had happened when the plane crashed and what she had done during the eleven days she was missing.

Naturally Leah couldn't relate the story without explaining the large part Reilly had played in her survival. The more often she repeated his name, the more often she thought about him. She had only to close her eyes to see him in her mind and remember what it was like to be in his arms.

"Maybe we should take you to see a doctor this afternoon," her father suggested.

"What for?" Leah flashed defensively, then flushed guiltily at the grim look from her brother.

Her father frowned, his eyes narrowing. "To verify that the gash on your arm is healing properly and make certain there are no signs of infection."

Too late Leah remembered only moments before telling them of the time she had been ill with fever. Absently she touched the small bandage on her left arm.

"It's fine. There's no need to see a doctor," she murmured self-consciously. She moved away from the motel room window.

"Really, dear," her mother laughed, unaware of the tension that had enveloped her daughter. "I can't help marvelling at the way you avoided catching pneumonia, considering how cold it gets in this part of the country at night."

Leah flinched. Her mother had not meant it as a subtle probe into the relationship between Leah and Reilly. But Leah knew she had been carefully sidestepping any comment that might reveal what she felt. She had basically never kept anything from her family before, and her lack of openness was making her feel guilty when there was no reason.

"Actually, Mom, it was quite simple." She lifted her chin in an unconsciously defiant pose. "Reilly and I slept together to keep warm." A pregnant silence followed her statement. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded," she inserted, nervously reaching for the pack of cigarettes sitting on the dresser. "Reilly didn't actually make love to me, if that's what you're wondering."