Midnight Exposure (17 page)

“I wish I had brothers or sisters,” Scott said. “Mom couldn’t have any more kids.”

Unpleasant memories turned the French toast in Reed’s mouth to paste. The truth was, Madeline had had enough trouble dealing with one child and a cop husband. She hadn’t wanted any more kids. Something Scott did not need to know.

He cleared his throat. Time to put an end to this morning’s show-and-tell session. “So, the plan is for me and Scott to clear the drive today. The weather’s improving. I should be able to get you to town tomorrow. Either the phone or Internet should be up by then, too.”

Jayne looked down. She pushed her plate away mostly full. “You guys go ahead. I’ll take care of the kitchen. Then I’ll use the shower if it’s OK.”

“Of course it’s OK. There a Jacuzzi if you want to use it.” Reed stood. His arms ached with the need to comfort her. The desire to pull her close was as disconcerting as her turmoil. But after tomorrow, it would be Hugh’s job to ensure her safety. Reed would be off the hook. Better to keep his distance. Jayne’s presence threatened the invisible life he’d worked so hard to attain.

Reed backed away. “Scott, please restock the wood on the porch and load the stove before you come out.”

His son patted Jayne on the arm on his way to the mudroom. Jayne gave him a sad smile.

“Don’t worry, Jayne. Dad’ll make sure you’re OK.”

Scott’s promise hit Reed like an uppercut to the belly.

Keeping Jayne safe was Hugh’s job. Reed hadn’t asked for the responsibility. If he turned her over to Hugh, Reed’s duty would
be done. He could restore his life to its former order. No more complications. No more risk.

Jayne would take her bright smile back to Philadelphia, and Reed would crawl back into the shadows.

Jayne glanced out the window as she set the last plate in the dishwasher. Nothing was coming out of the sky. Tomorrow Reed would take her into town.

Then what?

She’d report the crime, collect her Jeep, and head back to Philadelphia as soon as the roads were clear? Now that her courage had petered out, the thought of driving eight hundred miles alone made her knees weak and her eyes swell with tears. She couldn’t do it. She’d call Pat. One of her brothers would fly up and drive her home.

The only problem was that home didn’t feel safe either. Getting away from Philly hadn’t made a difference. Once she left Reed’s isolated house in the woods, she might never feel secure again. Of course, given what had happened, she wasn’t safe here either.

Would she ever feel safe again?

She reached under the sink for steel wool, tripping over the dog sleeping at her feet. After patting Sheba’s fluffy head, Jayne straightened and plunged her hand into the soapy water in search of the cast-iron pan.

When it was clean and dried, she stared out the window, watching Scott cross the yard. He was headed for the tarp-covered woodpile next to the shed. He’d need someone to hold the porch door open for him. She stopped in the mudroom to
borrow boots and a jacket, but a movement through the panes in the door pulled her to the threshold before she had a chance to don them. Sheba butted her knees. The dog’s hackles lifted.

A feeling of unease passed over her as she pushed the storm door open and sidled through the opening, pushing Sheba firmly back into the house. “Stay.”

Scott grabbed another piece of wood and added to the pile in his arms. Jayne scanned the area. The hair on her neck tickled. Something was out there. On the other side of the door, Sheba let out a furious bark. Jayne’s gaze swept the trees.

And she saw it.

A small wolf stood about thirty feet away from Scott, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Thin, scraggly gray fur stood up on the back of its neck. It stepped forward. A low growl emanated from its throat.

Scott.

Ice crawled down Jayne’s spine and liquefied in her belly. Driven by instinct, she stepped out into the yard. She barely felt the moisture soak through her socks. Her heart protested, banging furiously on the inside of her breastbone.

Scott eased back. He dropped all but one of the logs, holding the remaining piece in front of him as a weapon.

Jayne ran on numb feet, passing a fat tree stump, yanking free the ax buried in its scarred surface without stopping. It was heavier than she’d imagined. She tested the weight of the metal head. If the animal attacked, there’d be little time for a big, slow swing. Her best option was a straightforward thrust of the honed edge. She choked up on the handle and prayed it was sharp.

Jayne drew even with Scott. “Get in the house!”

Scott shook his head. He didn’t take his eyes off the wolf.

“Now.” Jayne planted herself between Scott and the wolf. She waved the ax. Her legs shook from cold and terror. “Shoo.”

The wolf snapped its jaws. Saliva dripped from its muzzle as it focused yellow eyes on Jayne.

The snowblower hitched in Reed’s hands as he rounded the house. He shut off the engine and bent to examine the blades for stick or rocks. He wasn’t even close to the fallen tree yet.

“Scram. Get out of here!”

The panic in Jayne’s voice cut through the brittle air. Reed whirled and sprinted toward the house. Her yell had come from around back. He raced around the corner and came to an awkward, sliding stop.

Jayne stood in the center of the yard, brandishing an ax at a damned big coyote. Coyotes didn’t generally attack adults, but this one looked hungry. The coat was a dull, dirty gray; its ribs visible through the sparse fur.

Scott reached out to touch Jayne’s shoulder. “It’s OK. It’s just a coyote.”

Jayne held her position. She waved the ax at the coyote like a mother bear defending her cub.

Reed ran forward. Inside the house, Sheba hurled her body at the closed door. Scratching and angry barking accompanied the rattling of the frame. With a nervous glance at Reed’s approach, the coyote turned and slunk into the woods.

Jayne didn’t move. Reed kept jogging until he stood in front of her. Her eyes were wide open, her features frozen with shock. He pried the ax out of her trembling hands.

“Thank you.”

Scott stepped up. “It was just a coyote. He probably wouldn’t have hurt me, but thanks anyway.”

But Jayne hadn’t known that
. Reed would never forget the image of her wielding an ax to protect his son.

Jayne didn’t respond for a few seconds, just stood staring out into the woods, shivering. “That was a coyote?” Her voice quivered.

Reed’s eyes traveled the length of her. No hat. No coat. No boots. Pants wet to midthigh. Snowflakes in her hair. No thought to her own comfort or safety.

“You’re going to get pneumonia.” He scooped her off her feet. “We’d better get you dried and thawed—again.”

“I thought coyotes were small.” Her body shrank and curled into his. “I could’ve sworn that was a wolf.”

Reed tried not to like the way she felt in his arms—and failed. This was not the distance he’d sworn to keep. “No wolves in Maine, but the coyotes can be pretty darned big.”

On the porch, Scott opened the door for them. Reed carried Jayne right through to the master bathroom. He set her on the tiled lip of the tub.

“Shower or bath?”

“Uhm. Bath.”

Reed turned the water on in the Jacuzzi.

“Can you manage?”

She nodded but just sat there, trembling and staring at the tile. Lost. Overwhelmed by the surge and ebb of adrenaline no doubt. Reed stacked clean towels and prepared to make his escape.

Eighteen hours. That’s how long he had to keep his distance. Deep in his soul he knew if he let Jayne into his heart, he’d never get her out again.

At the door, Reed glanced back. Jayne hadn’t moved. Her face was as white as his fiberglass tub.

Shit.

He returned to the tub and adjusted the water temperature before approaching Jayne. Kneeling at her feet, he grasped her ankle and peeled off her sopping socks. A clump of slush fell to the tile floor. Jayne started as he wrapped both his palms around one slender foot and gently rubbed the ice-cold skin.

He lifted his eyes to hers, an infinite turquoise, clear as the Caribbean. Drowning in their depths would be heaven. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her tongue slid out to moisten lips. Reed’s body leaned forward until he could feel her breath on his face, light as a whisper.

Jayne blinked up at him. Her head tilted slightly. Her pupils widened, her eyes darkening from tropical sea to stormy ocean.

“Dad?” Scott’s voice came from the hall.

Reed jolted and sat back.

Jayne didn’t move.

“Tub’s almost ready.” He scrambled to his feet before bolting from the room. A glance back showed her face was flushed—with surprise and something else.

Reed sincerely hoped he’d imagined the return desire in her eyes. Attraction not returned was far easier to resist than mutual passion.

Jayne stared at the closed door. Several seconds passed before she realized the water in the tub was inches from overflow. She lunged over and turned off the tap. Steam rose in a thick cloud over the tub.

What on earth had just happened? Had Reed been about to kiss her? She didn’t even know what she thought of that, except that she’d been wrong about him. He wasn’t emotionally stunted. He was a pressure cooker. There’d been enough heat in his eyes to ignite them both.

A lank tendril of hair fell over her shoulder. She’d contemplate Reed and his emotional roller coaster later, after she was clean. On the bright side, she wasn’t cold any longer. The warmth of Reed’s gaze had flushed her with heat.

But would she have kissed him back?

Her gaze dropped to the bandages on her wrists, and a chill streaked through her belly. Had she finally met a man who could pierce through the wall of fear she’d erected after the first attack? Or was she suffering from some sort of white knight syndrome? Only time would tell, along with a fresh round of therapy.

Anger flared at the memory of Reed’s hot stare. Damn! It wasn’t fair. Even if he was the right man, she was not in the right frame of mind to take that step.

With a resigned sigh, she searched the bathroom for amenities. Reed had dashed out before she could even ask him for shampoo. Calling him back to request soap reeked of desperation. She couldn’t stand to be helpless again. For the entire year following Ty Jennings’s attack she’d been totally dependent on her brothers.

The hell with manners. The man obviously needed some alone time. At this point, she’d help herself.

Under the vanity sat a basket of hotel-size soaps and shampoos. Jayne sniffed out two bottles that smelled like spring. She dipped a hand in the water before stripping off her clothes, then unwinding the bandages on her hands. The shallow cut across her palm and thin scabs around her wrists stiffened her spine.

Was her captor looking for her right now? She didn’t think it had been Jennings again. This man had seemed thicker, more mature. Of course she hadn’t seen Jennings since his stint in prison. He could’ve bulked up. But her instincts said it wasn’t him. Someone else had attacked her.

A shiver coursed through her and she slid into the hot water to scrub away the filth of the last two days. Her lathered fingers lingered over the scar on her cheek. One thing was clear. Reed definitely found her attractive, even in her unkempt state. When his eyes had blazed into hers, she’d felt beautiful for the first time in years. She’d felt like a normal, desirable woman.

Tomorrow she would return to the harsh reality of police reports, phone calls to her brothers, and the possibility that her kidnapper from Maine would follow her home. As if having one madman on parole, waiting for her in Philadelphia, wasn’t bad enough.

Now she’d have a second, faceless shadow to fear.