MM02 - Until Morning Comes (15 page)

She settled into her seat and her back brushed against his legs. A strand of her glorious hair fanned out and rested on his blue jeans. He stared at it as if he had never seen hair.

“Wasn't that great, buddy?” Jim pounded him on the shoulder.

“Yes.” Candlestick Park could have been on fire, and he would never have known. He sat, mesmerized by a single strand of golden hair.

“What's the matter, Colter? You look like you're having a heart attack.”

“Indigestion.” Colter wiped the mustard off his jeans and pressed the half-eaten hot dog into the napkins. His hunger was no longer for hot dogs.

“Take an antacid tablet,” Jim laughed as he turned back to the game.

Colter stood up. The action was reflexive. He had to move, to go somewhere, to do something, to do
anything
except sit and stare at Jo Beth's hair.

Jim glanced up at him, still grinning. “Going somewhere?”

“I have to... throw away this hot dog.” He didn't exit; he retreated. Geronimo would have disowned him.

Jo Beth heard him leave. She gave him time to be out of sight, then turned around and grinned.

“My little plan seems to be working,” she said. Then she sobered. “Do you think I'm being too hard on him?”

Jim Roman laughed heartily. “My dear Jo Beth, a man like Colter needs to suffer before he gets his woman. Believe me, I know. You should have seen what Hannah Donovan put me through.”

“I can't thank the two of you enough for helping me.

“We would have been disappointed not to be in on this scheme. Anyhow, we're glad to have somebody using the houseboat, and it's good that Hannah has her mind on something else these last few days before the baby comes.”

“Tell me, Jim. How is he... really? When I called his mother and found out he'd come back here, I didn't know what to think.”

“He's stoic, as always, but... shhh, here he comes.”

Jo Beth quickly faced the field and became absorbed in the game. She was only pretending, though. She heard the rustlings as Colter took his seat directly behind her. The hairs stood up on her arms.

He had to have recognized her by now. When would he acknowledge her? What would he say? Would he be polite? Distant? Cordial? Cold?

And what would she say? She hadn't thought that far ahead. She'd never played hard to get. She'd never played any lover's game. Rick, who was an old hand at games, had given her some pointers, and Andrew, who thought he knew something about everything, had tried to tell her exactly what to do, but she'd finally given up trying to learn from them. She told them she'd wing it.

A trickle of sweat inched down her back as she tried to act nonchalant. She was dying to get another look at Colter. The batter gave her a chance. He hit a high pop foul outside left field, and she turned halfway around to watch the ball. One more slight turn, and she was face-to-face with Colter.

“Colter!”

“Jo Beth!”

They both pretended surprise. She held out her hand, and he gave it a polite shake.

“What an unexpected pleasure,” she said.

“What brings you to San Francisco, Jo Beth?”

You,
she wanted to say. But that wouldn't do.

“Business.” She gave him a wicked smile of satisfaction. “You can let go of my hand now.”

He circled his forefinger on the underside of her wrist before he released her. She almost abandoned her game and threw herself into his arms, right there in Candlestick Park. Instead she put her hand primly in her lap.

“Another assignment?” he asked.

“Yes.” She didn't elaborate. “You've cut your hair.”

“Yes. The braids didn't make me Indian.”

“No, they made you sexy.”

The minute the words were out she could have bitten off her tongue. If Colter had laughed, she probably would have. Fortunately for her, he didn't.

“You thought so, did you?”

I still do,
she wanted to say. But she didn't. Instead she looked out over the baseball field, feigning a great interest.

“We're missing the game,” she said.

“On the contrary. I think this is the best game in town.” He smiled, then, for the first time since she'd come into the ballpark.

He was on to her, she thought. Why had she ever thought she could fool Colter Gray Wolf? There was nothing to do but go on pretending. She'd come all the way from Mississippi to chase this man until he caught her, and she wasn't about to back down now.

She stared boldly at him, trying to think of a suitably flip reply. That's when she saw the stain on his pants.

Colter Gray Wolf had invented neat. Even after he'd raced cross-country and rescued Clyde from the canyon, he'd still somehow managed to look unmussed. She grinned.

“You have mustard on your pants, Colter.”

“They don't make hot dogs like they used to. One bite and they fall apart.”

“You'll have to be more careful.”

He gave her a long look then, one that sizzled every hair on her head.

“So I will.”

She turned back to watch the game so fast, she made jackrabbits look slow.
Derned his hide, as Dad would say.
She never should have let him out of the privy. Then none of this would have happened.

Chapter Nine

Colter stared at the back of Jo Beth's head for five minutes, trying to figure out what was going on. While he mused, Jim gave a running commentary of the game.

“What a play! Did you see the way that ball curved?”

“Umm-hmm.” All Colter saw was the way the lights made Jo's hair shine.

“What's he doing, using a relief pitcher?”

What was she doing in San Francisco?

“There goes the manager to the mound.”

There she goes, turning her head so I can see her profile. Does she know I'm looking?

“I believe he's up to something.”

I believe she's up to something.

Jo Beth shifted in her seat, and Colter had to adjust his own seating in order to keep his view of her profile. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Her skin was silkier. He had to clench his hands at his sides to keep from reaching out to touch her.

He'd forfeited that right on the mountaintop. At least for a while. He couldn't change his mind now. He couldn't lean over and say, “Jo Beth, since you're here, why don't you come back to the houseboat with me?” He couldn't use her to satisfy his own selfish needs, then tell her that he still couldn't make any commitments because his own future was in limbo. The best thing for both of them would be for him to keep his distance.

Jo Beth must have felt him staring at her, because she turned and winked. Keeping his distance was forgotten. He leaned toward her.

“Jo Beth, are you flirting with me?”

“Would I flirt with you, Colter Gray Wolf?”

“I don't know. Would you?”

She pretended to think about his question for a while. It gave her a golden opportunity to feast her eyes on him. He made her throat go dry. He made her mouth water. And he set off so many sparks, she thought her sweater might catch on fire.

If she had ever had doubts about what she was doing, they all vanished. Colter had said he had to make his journey of the soul alone, but he'd been wrong. Instinctively she knew that. It was right for people in love to share. Not just joy, but pain as well. And while she would never try to influence his decision, there was no reason she had to stay in Mississippi while he made it.

“It all depends on what I would gain.” She smiled at him. “What would I gain if I flirted with you, Colter?”

“Perhaps more than you bargained for.”

He reached out and touched her cheek. The brief contact startled them both. He had meant to remain staunch, and she had meant to remain cool. Neither of them succeeded. When he pulled back, her face was warm and his pulse was running away.

“Careful what claims you make, Colter. I might challenge you.”

He chuckled. “I'm glad you warned me, Jo Beth. I'll be on my guard.”

“You do that.” She winked again. “Enjoy the game,” she said. Then she turned back around.

He stared at her back.
I wonder if I should ask where she's staying?

She stared straight ahead.
I wonder if I should ask him to dinner
?

He watched the stadium lights play in her hair.
What would she do if I kissed her?

She watched the peanut vendor selling his roasted nuts.
What would he do if I kissed him?

He leaned to the left so he could see the side of her face.
Does she remember the sound of the turtledove?

She slowly turned to see if she could catch a glimpse of him when he wasn't looking.
Does he remember the night he first covered me with his blanket?

Suddenly she found herself staring into Colter's face.

“Jo Beth, I...”

“Colter, I...”

Both of them spoke at once.

“You first,” he said.

“I thought I'd tell you good-bye, Colter.”

“You're leaving?”

“Just the ballpark.”

“Then you'll be here, in San Francisco?”

“For a while.”

They gazed at each other. He wished that Fate hadn't decreed such a lonesome journey for him, and she wished she hadn't decided to play hard to get.

“Well...” She held out her hand. “Good-bye... again.”

He squeezed her hand. Instead of letting it go, he lifted it to his lips. His breath warmed her palm and his mouth sent goose bumps skittering over her arms.

“Good-bye, Jo Beth. Take care.”

She left the ballpark quickly. Never mind that the game wasn't over. Two things were of utmost importance: getting away from Colter before she ruined her carefully laid plans, and getting back to the houseboat before he did. He couldn't know that she was staying next door to him. At least, he couldn't know until the next day.

Colter watched her leave. Even after she had disappeared into the crowd, he still stared after her.

“Great game, isn't it, buddy?” Jim punched his shoulder.

“Yes. Great.” Colter didn't even turn around. He continued staring into the distance, musing.

“Something interesting happening over there?” Jim suppressed his grin.

“No. Just watching the crowd.”

“I see.” This time, Jim couldn't keep from chuckling.

Colter shifted his attention back to the ball field. “Did I miss something funny?”

“No. I was just wondering what kind of excuse you'd think up if I called in your promise tomorrow.”

“What promise?”

“To polish the brass on my boat. Remember? Back in Arizona.”

“Yes. I remember. And certainly I'll do it. I'm off duty this weekend.”

“Great. By the way, who was that gorgeous woman sitting in front of us?”

“Which woman?”

Jim had to squelch his laughter again. Colter might be an inscrutable Apache, but he was a terrible actor. “That blonde.”

“That was Jo Beth McGill.”

“The one you told me about? Well, hell, buddy, why didn't you introduce us?”

“She's no longer in my life.”

Jim didn't say anything. He turned back to watch the game, grinning.

o0o

It was late by the time Colter got back to his houseboat. He should have been exhausted, but he wasn't. And he knew why. Jo Beth McGill.

He stood on his deck, leaning on the railing and looking out over the water. He had the eerie sensation that she was still close to him, so close he could reach out and touch her. He lifted his face to the stars to rid himself of the sensation. But it didn't help. Jo Beth was still with him, in his heart, in his mind, in his soul.

He hadn't counted on seeing her—at least, not so soon. But seeing her had made him question his judgment in sending her away. It was too late now, of course. He couldn't change the past.

He left the railing and went below deck to sleep.

o0o

Colter was accustomed to working long hours and sleeping very little. Even on the weekends when he was not on call, he kept his same habits.

On Sunday morning he got up with the sun, dressed in a pair of his oldest jeans, and made himself breakfast. Then he gathered his brass-polishing supplies and headed toward Jim Roman's boat.

It rocked and swayed when he climbed aboard. He stood a moment on the deck, re-familiarizing himself with the boat. He hadn't been on it in a long time. Since Jim and Hannah didn't live there anymore, it was seldom used. The last occasion had been a party on the bay for one of their children. And that had been back in May.

He stood a while longer, taking his bearing, then put down his supplies and began to polish the brass railing. He loved working with his hands. As the brass began to respond to his care, he started to whistle.

Below deck, Jo Beth sat straight up in her bed. Good grief, she thought. What time was it? She looked at her clock through sleep-squinty eyes. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She never woke up at that goshawful time of day.

She'd started to lay her head back on the pillow when she heard the noise. Clutching the sheets around her neck, she listened. It wasn't a noise, it was whistling. Colter! It had to be Colter. Or else a happy burglar. Good grief.

She'd known he was coming; that was part of the plan. But she'd had no idea he would come this early. She'd planned to be up and dressed in full battle gear. She was going to be so polished and poised and desirable, he'd have to jump ship to cool himself off after looking at her.

Now she figured he'd jump ship anyway—in fright. She lay back against the pillows and groaned. In all her careful planning, she'd forgotten to tell Jim what time to send Colter over.

But all was not lost. He was on deck and she below. Maybe she could still get ruinously gorgeous before he saw her.

She eased one foot over the side of her bed, clutching the sheet around her. The whistling was louder now. He'd never whistled in the desert. She didn't even know he could.

She took a step and the boards under her feet creaked loudly enough to wake the dead.

“Damnation,” she muttered.

“Going somewhere, Jo Beth?”

She whirled around. Colter was standing just inside the cabin, a polish rag in his hand and a grin on his face. She was caught. There was nothing to do but make the best of it.