Rogue's Revenge (18 page)

“Snow.” Heath’s voice in the darkness answered her unvoiced question.

“What?!”

“Snow. A squall, not all that uncommon at this time of year. You’d know that if you’d ever visited the Chance in early May.”

“Can’t you ever give the guilt thing a rest? Lord, it’s freezing!”

She heard him move. A moment later he was beside her.

“Come here.” A zipper slithered.

“What?”

“Get inside with me.” He drew her, sleeping bag and all, into his.

“Just a minute, mister…”

“What do you think I’m capable of doing with you swathed inside two layers of Thinsulate?”

“I…nothing…I don’t know.” The chuckle deep in his chest made her realize the foolishness of her protest.

“Warmer?”

“I suppose.” She tried to sound indignant, but the sensations his warm, amazing body were producing tempered her attempt.

“Sleep.” His lips brushed her temple, the word erotic in her ear. “And feel safe.” He adjusted her vest pillow into a more comfortable position, pulled part of her sleeping bag into a hood about her head, then, with a sigh, settled once more for the night. As his regular breathing told Allison he slept, she suppressed the urge to reach out and run her fingers up that strong, clean-shaven jaw and into his soft golden-brown hair.

She’d never have been able to spend a platonic night with Paul. She remembered the unpleasant drive to the country club dance in the rain and Paul’s unwelcome attempt at lovemaking that had caused the accident.

Lying in Heath Oakes’ arms, she felt safe and secure. As she drifted off to sleep, a small, soft melody began to drift into her heart…

****

She awoke to a shock of chill air as Heath pulled away from her and arose. Sunlight peeked into their canvas shelter.

“Six o’clock.” He pulled clean woolen socks from his packsack and sat down to replace the ones he’d slept in. “Rise and shine. I want you to see this morning before the sun melts the snow. It’ll knock your socks off.”

“I hope you’re speaking figuratively.” She climbed out of her sleeping bag and stretched. “Otherwise it could make for icy toes.”

“Come on, come on!” He was lacing up his boots. “The snow won’t last long in the sun.”

He waited as she changed socks and laced on hiking boots. As she was pulling on her jacket, he caught her by the hand and drew her out into the dazzling day.

For a few seconds its brilliance blinded her, but as she became able to focus, a sigh of pure wonder escaped her lips. Virgin white covered grass, trees, and river shore, a pristine icing that sparkled with thousands of snow diamonds over layers of greenery glinting in the first golden rays of the sun. The panorama reminded Allison of a lady in a jade frock overlaid with jeweled lace. Except for the river thundering past, the wilderness seemed locked in a moment of absolute peace.

“It’s fantastic!” she breathed.

“Wait. There’s more.” He took her hand and, pulling her along as eagerly as a child headed downstairs on Christmas morning, he led her up a slight incline to a place beneath a large birch tree several feet from their campsite. He knelt and brushed snow from some leaves disfigured with large brown spots. Moving them aside, he revealed a small clump of the most exquisite little blossoms Allison had ever seen.

“Mayflowers.” She dropped to her knees. “I remember…”

“Smell them,” he said, but when she leaned forward to pick one, he stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

“Just smell.”

“Sorry. Forgot Gramps’ no-picking rule.” She bent and inhaled.

The scent from the tiny blossoms stirred wonderful memories. Light and yet intoxicatingly potent, she recalled it as the most exquisite fragrance she’d ever experienced.

“Heaven,” she sighed, closing her eyes and inhaling from the bottom of her lungs. “The scent of mayflowers has to be a small piece of heaven.”

“There’s nothing quite like it,” he said. “If someone could bottle it, they’d be a millionaire overnight. But no one ever has. Hopefully no one ever will. I want them to remain exactly what they are this moment—a unique, unspoiled bit of the wilderness.”

“They will,” she said dropping back on her knees. “I won’t be selling out to National Realty.”

She faced him as they knelt beside the bluish-tinged white blossoms. His expression of utter relief hit her straight in the heart.

“You mean it?” He got to his feet and squinted down at her in the sunlight.

“This place is your life, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He turned to look out over the river sparkling dark and wild in the sun. “Jack Adams gave me a chance, and I plan to repay him by being the best steward I can to what he held important.”

Allison got up and stood beside him. “
We’ll
be the best stewards we can.”

“What?”

“I’m staying. I’ll handle the business aspect, and you’ll take care of the outdoors component. What do you say?”

“What about Toronto, your CFO job?”

“I did a lot of thinking last night. I decided I don’t want to spend my life working for someone else, helping make someone’s big business even bigger. The important stuff is all here.”

Before she could protest, he had her in his arms and was kissing her, kissing her until she swirled away into some wonderful place where her body melted into his, where reality was only his hard body and the sound of the river and his heart thudding against hers. But when she wrapped her arms about his neck and started to come full-length against him, he stopped her, drew her out from him, and looked deep into her expectant green eyes.

“No.”

“What…no? Heath, why…”

“Believe me, I’m not pulling back because I want to.” He cupped her face in his hands. “But I made a promise to your mother that I’d ‘be a gentleman,’ to use her euphemism, for the whole of any time I spent alone on the Chance with you.”

“Heath…”

“Allie, this isn’t easy for me. God knows, I’d like nothing better than to make love to you right now, this minute. But you could end up regretting it, and I don’t want that to happen…again.”

“I won’t, I wouldn’t…”

“But I would. Let’s get portaging…while I’m still able to.”

He released her and headed back toward their campfire.

“Heath!” She caught up to him and grabbed his arm.

“Hey, look, I promised your mother I’d keep things platonic, and that’s the way they’ll stay!” He swung on her. “I got carried away when you told me you weren’t going to sell the Chance, that you’d be staying. I’m sorry. But I’m not made of steel. Believe me, beneath the surface still beats the heart of the same guy you had to fight off when you were a romantic teenager. But we have to take it slow and see where it goes. We’re not kids anymore. This could get serious. Come on. Let’s get packing…Allie.”

****

“I hear you calling when we part, this river flows through both our hearts…”

“What’s that you’re singing?” He stopped beside her as she packed supplies into a cooler.

“Something I heard Gramps sing to Gram.” She straightened and faced him squarely. “Could be something that happened recently reminded me of it.”

“The man must have been in love with her.” He turned away and began to gather their tent and rolled-up sleeping bags.

“Must have been.” She cast him a sidewise glance.

“Look, if you’re expecting some kind of commitment from me…”

“Of course not. One hot kiss does not a commitment make. Or a business arrangement.”

She returned to packing, something like heartburn nagging her chest.

He threw the bundles onto his shoulder and headed for the canoe.

An hour later they’d loaded the canoe on a small set of wheels and packed all their gear in it except for one well-filled large packsack.

“Let me help you with this.” Heath picked it up and turned to Allison.

“Do I look like a pack mule?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“I can’t pull all our gear and the canoe over the rough terrain up ahead. So unless you want to wait alone at the other end of the portage while I make two trips, you’ll have to carry your own stuff. Or aren’t you up to it?” His eyes challenged her.

“Strap it on, buddy.” She turned her back to him and waited. “I’m Jack Adams’ granddaughter, remember?”

He slipped the straps over her shoulders, but as she fastened the chest support, he leaned around the side of the pack to place a kiss on her temple.

“Remind me never again to promise Myra Armstrong I’ll remain celibate around her daughter,” he muttered. He took up the straps to pull the canoe. “Right now I’d rather live up to my uninhibited wild man persona.”

“That image gets foggier by the minute. A genuine lord of the jungle—er, woods—would heft this little bitty canoe over his head, packsack on his back, and stride off into the bush, resting it on his manly shoulders, the woman walking proud and unburdened by his side.”

“You left out the fact that his woman probably would be scantily clad.” He started off with the canoe in tow. “That might inspire a man to give it his best shot.”

They were battling their way up a rocky promontory above the river twenty minutes later when an explosion rent the quiet of the forest. Heath dropped the canoe straps and dove at Allison. Together they crashed to the ground. The freed canoe bounced down the slope, splashed into the river, and bounded away in the current.

“Ah, hell!”

“Ouch…Heath, you’re crushing me. What…”

“Lie still!” Heath hissed. “That was a rifle shot!”

“What? Someone is shooting at us?”

“Yeah,
someone
. No bear, no sasquatch. A real person. Start edging behind those rocks. Whoever he is, he’s back in the trees. If we can get over the lip of the cliff and down under it, we have a chance.”

“A chance? Wasn’t that an accident? A hunting mistake?”

“In May? Hunting season starts in October. Now crawl…fast…like a crab.” She obeyed, scuttling over rocks and moss until she dropped over the edge of the cliff above the river. A split second later Heath landed beside her with a grunt.

“Keep your head down and follow me.” He started off over the shedding shale of the high river ledge, stooped like a handsome Quasimodo.

Allison glanced down at the river roaring below them and shuddered. One wrong step and she’d be following their canoe over rocks and rapids.

Praying and crossing her fingers, she scrambled after Heath, the packsack threatening to destroy her equilibrium. At one point she slipped, the loose rock crumbling under her boots. Only Heath’s hand grabbing her shoulder strap saved her from tumbling down into the rapids. With a gasp she righted herself and scrambled after him.

“In here.” He caught her hand to pull her into a dark hole under a ledge.

“Phew! What’s that awful stench?”

The smell engulfed her as they came to a crouching stop in the blackness.

“Quiet,” he muttered. “This is a bear den.”

“Are you crazy?” She leaped upright, hit her head, and fell back rubbing it. “What if he comes home? What if he…?”

“He won’t. He’s too busy looking for food. Anyway, hiding here beats the hell out of dodging bullets.”

“Frying pan or fire.” She hunkered down with a pounding heart and a sore spot on her head. “How long do you reckon we’ll have to stay here?”

“Until dusk. Then we’ll sneak back up over the ledge and find a safe place for the night. Your sleeping bag is in your pack, as well as a frying pan and a pot. We’ll manage.”

“An empty frying pan and an empty pot,” she breathed, the full extent of their predicament washing over her. “Miles from civilization with our canoe, food, and ninety percent of our camping gear gone.”

“Not to panic. Remember you’re with the Lord of the Woods. He and his woman always survive. They have to. Otherwise there’d be no more movies.” In the darkness he slipped an arm about her sagging shoulders and planted a kiss on her taut lips. “Relax and enjoy the ambience. Quite a different aroma from those mayflowers but still just as natural.”

“Very amusing. You said someone was deliberately shooting at us, but who? Why?”

“I’m not sure who, but I do know why. To coerce us into selling the Chance to National Realty.”

“National Realty? I find that hard to believe. They’re legitimate realtors with branches right across Canada.”

“Are you saying big business isn’t capable of using underhanded methods? I know you’re a member of their rank and file, but still you can’t believe that crock.”

“No, but I…”

“And exactly what do we know about this James Wilcox who’s supposedly their agent?”

“Well, about the man, nothing, actually. What makes you say ‘supposedly’?”

“The fact that he’s yet to produce any ID that identifies him as one of their full-time employees. And the fact that these so-called sasquatch sightings became much more frequent once he began trying to buy the Chance. My opinion is that he’s a freelancer working on a commission basis.”

For a few minutes they sat in silence. Then Allison spoke.

“Heath, Candace Breckenridge alluded to a scare she got when she was up here last fall. Did she see the sasquatch?”

“Is that what she said?” A sneer colored his words.

“Well, she gave some story about almost being caught with you by her husband, but since you’ve told me there was never anything between you…”

“There never was.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “But it looked as if there was, when her husband found her with me in my bedroom.”

“In your bedroom? And you’re telling me your relationship with her was purely platonic? Ouch!” She’d tried to jump to her feet and banged her head…again.

“Take it easy. Let me explain. Jack and the other guides took the guests downriver on a picnic. Mom went along to serve lunch. I thought I was alone in the Lodge area. I didn’t know the Breckenridges had had a fight and stayed behind. I hadn’t had a day off in weeks, so I decided to take a shower, go into town, and convince Jesse to have lunch with me.”

“Ah, ha! So you and Dr. Henderson are…were…”

“Friends. Don’t jump up again. I had just gone into my bedroom to dress when Candace burst into the cottage screaming something about seeing a big hairy ape down near the boathouse. Claimed it was a sasquatch. Before I could stop her, she threw herself at me, and toppled me backwards onto the bed. She knocked the towel from my hips and when her husband, drawn by her screams, arrived, you can guess what he thought he was seeing.”