Wind Shadow (10 page)

He knelt to examine the foot she had lifted, but before he could touch it, she put it down, discouraging his examination.

“Let me look at it, Silky.”

“No, thanks. It’s okay.” Straightening, she nodded for them to continue. “Let’s get this over with.”

He looked down at her, his exhale clearly audible over the crunching of his shod feet. “If somebody sees us, they couldn’t think we’re going to do anything worse than we’ve already done.”

She pulled out of his grasp, whispering urgently, “Must you mention last night? Couldn’t you be a gentleman and talk about the weather—or something?

When they reached the bikes, he pointed to the far side. “There. Can you see it?”

Her throat went dry. She was afraid to look, fearing what she might see. But, as they carefully picked their way beneath the branches and around the bicycles, she allowed herself to focus on what Wade was talking about. “Why, it’s Rex’s bike, and it’s …” The sentence trailed off as her eyes grew wide. “Wade, it’s been—”

“Disassembled.” He finished for her. “Beautiful job.”

Silky shot a pointed look up at him as he reached up to pick a pine needle from a branch and lay the blunt end between his lips. As she watched, she noticed that his mouth was twitching with barely concealed humor.

“Wade.” She gasped. “You didn’t.”

He shook his head. “No, but I figured you’d think I did.” The pine needle shifted from one corner of his mouth to the other. “Do you really think I would be so petty as to take your rejection last night—however belated—out on him?” His hand tightened on her wrist briefly. Releasing her hand, he asked again with some effort, “Do you really believe I would do this?”

Dropping her eyes to Rex’s bike as it lay there, so neatly, all parts arranged generally where they would go if the bike were just resting on its side, she bit her lower lip. It didn’t seem like
something Wade would do. More like—“Annie?” She breathed the word before she was even conscious of her own turn of mind.

“Annie?” Wade repeated doubtfully.

She turned toward him. “Oh, Wade, you don’t think it really was Annie, do you? Rex’ll have her hide if she did this.”

A slow smile kindled in his ebony eyes. “Well.” His quick nod denoted satisfaction. “Does that question mean I’m off the list of suspects?”

She smiled in spite of herself. “Yes, you’re off. I can’t really picture you sneaking around taking apart a man’s bicycle just because a woman”—she swallowed nervously at her unintended reminder of what had happened last night—“chooses him over you.”

He lifted a sardonic brow. “This is where I’m supposed to bring up the weather, isn’t it?” Then with a grin that was very nearly genuine, he went on, “You’re right. I wouldn’t take a rival’s bike apart, but I might write the person who did it into my will.” His speculative gaze tangled with hers. She could feel his vital presence in the shadowed shelter beneath the pine boughs as he asked more seriously, “We’re still friends, then?”

There was something in the intensity of his tone that surprised her. They both fell silent. Wade was waiting for her answer, and strangely enough, so was she. Friends? Could she be Wade’s friend? Not long ago they had been strangers, then acquaintances—however antagonistic—then, heaven knew how, lovers.
Friends? Was that possible? After last night it was very possible that the only route open to them was either to be friends or enemies, and Silky couldn’t see Wade as her enemy. She dipped her eyes and forced a mantle of nonchalance. “Maybe—maybe we could be friends, Wade. I’ll think about it.”

She felt his warm hand squeeze hers. “Good.” By the tone of his voice she could tell he was smiling. “Okay, potential friend, let’s go tell Rex.”

She jerked her eyes up to stare into his. “Tell Rex what?” All sorts of firelit acrobatics scurried through her mind.

The horror in her face must have been easy to read, because Wade was shaking his head. “About the bike. I would never talk to Rex about… the weather.”

Feeling guilty and silly, she murmured, “The bike—of course. I—I really wish he didn’t have to know, though.”

“There, you see? We agree on something. Think what a team we’d make if we became friends.” Taking the pine needle from the corner of his mouth, he tossed it away. “I’d have put Rex’s bike back together myself, but it’s an expensive piece of equipment and I figure he’d want to be in on it.”

They were standing beside a bike that Silky recognized to be Wade’s. He was unconsciously running a hand along its handlebars, gently, almost lovingly. She became mesmerized by his movements, remembering how those same, long
fingers had stroked her skin not so many hours before, bringing her body to a trembling pitch she preferred to forget.

“Silky?”

She blinked, unaware that she had lost the thread of his conversation. “What?”

“Where did you go?” He was watching her curiously.

Shifting her weight, she mumbled apologetically, “I’m sorry, Wade. What were you saying?”

He shrugged. “Just that it’s too bad we have to wake Rex, since they didn’t get in until nearly four.”

“Four? How do you know that?”

“I didn’t sleep very well.” He shifted his gaze to some distant point over her shoulder, and she could see a slight tightening at the corners of his mouth. “Guess I finally fell asleep or I’d have probably heard the culprit.” He checked his watch. “It’s nine-thirty. We won’t get off today until around noon, so that should give us time to get the bike together.” He put a coaxing hand to the small of her back. “That is,
if
our bike-razer left all the parts.” He chuckled, drawing her attention sharply. “If Annie did this, she’s got more grit than even I gave her credit for.”

Silky groaned. “And less brains. Please promise me you won’t mention her name to Rex.”

His light touch at her back mildly guided her through the bikes. “I wouldn’t do that to Annie. I think I’m in love with the woman.”

Silky sniffed a small, reluctant laugh, feeling
a strange mixture of relief and concern. “So much for the pain of rejection.”

She couldn’t judge his reaction, being slightly ahead of him, but she could feel his eyes on her as they picked their way through the low pine branches.

She could still feel his gaze on her profile as they headed toward Rex’s tent. He said nothing, so she remained silent too, trying to shift her thoughts to Rex and how they would be able to quietly stanch his anger when he was told that his costly bicycle was in pieces. She pressed her lips together to keep them from twitching into a smile. No matter how resourceful a prank it had been, Rex’s poor scattered bike was no laughing matter!

A short distance from Rex’s tent, Wade whispered, “I’ll tell him. You go get the first aid kit. This could get messy.”

She shot an apprehensive glance over her shoulder and was relieved to see his smile. Immediately, she lost her battle to keep a straight face and grinned up at him. “Thanks, Wade. But I think I’d better tell him.” Running a slightly shaky hand through her hair, she added with forced confidence, “He probably won’t throttle me.”

“Probably?” He touched her forehead and smoothed back a strand of hair that she had missed. “You’re mighty cute when you’re fearless. You sure you want to handle this alone? I could stay around.”

She shook her head. “I’m sure.”

His wink was encouraging. “Okay, but take a piece of advice from an old cop, and tie his hands behind his back before you tell him. When he hears that he has a jigsaw puzzle for transportation he’s liable to pounce first and send flowers later.”

She screwed up her face in exaggerated pain. “Thanks, I needed that!”

He flashed her a beautiful, teasing grin. “What are potential friends for? I’ll get my tools and meet you two at the bike.”

Silky shook her head and chuckled in spite of herself as she watched him saunter away, his uneven gait as self-assured as it was disturbingly virile.

Rex took the news pretty well if you consider national disasters and world wars ho-hum trivia.

“
Damnhertohell!
” he snarled, opening his bleary eyes fully for the first time as Silky’s news finally penetrated.

She ducked her head out of the tent as he sat up. There didn’t appear to be room in the tent for both Rex’s anger and her head, too.

“Who
her
, Rex?” she squeaked. “You can’t know the person was a ‘her.’ And please,” she pleaded in an urgent whisper, “keep your voice down. Do you want everybody awake? Wade’s gone for his tools. We can get this taken care of without any fuss.”

“
Fuss!
” On his hands and knees, Rex poked
his scowling face out of the tent, further distorting his expression when he squinted at the brightness of the sun. “Dammit! I want a fuss! I
want
everybody up! I want everybody to witness
Loonie
Toone’s execution! I will personally wring her scrawny neck.”

Silky shushed him with a finger to her lips. “Rex—” She moved her hand to his arm. “Come on. Think. Annie wouldn’t do that!” She hoped she sounded more convinced than she felt. “Besides, whoever did do it won’t get any satisfaction out of it if you can laugh it off. Don’t you see that?”

Rex was thoughtful for a moment. Crawling the rest of the way out of his tent, he stood up. Silky sat tense, watching. Clad only in a pair of red, terry knit shorts, she was again struck by Rex’s fine, lean frame and by how snugly the shorts fit over his slender hips.

He was frowning. “You say Wade told you about it?”

She slid her eyes to his. They were narrowed speculatively as though he were trying to get inside her mind. She felt a guilty lump block her throat and she could only nod.

“Why you and not me?”

She was going to have to lie. There was no help for it. “Uh—he hated to wake you with such bad news since you got in so late. He planned to fix it himself, but because it was an expensive bike, he decided to ask my opinion. I thought you should be told.”

Rex nodded, his expression solemn. He apparently
accepted her explanation. Relaxing a bit, Silky allowed herself a long, inaudible exhale.

“It all sounds legitimate, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Wade wasn’t in on this with Annie. They’re pretty chummy—though why anybody would want to be chummy with Annie is a mystery to me.”

Silky stood up, brushing grass and dirt from shaky knees. “I’m sure Wade didn’t do it, Rex.”

“What makes you so sure?” he snapped.

“I—I” She couldn’t tell him
why
she was sure. She certainly couldn’t say that Wade had made love to her; that she’d rejected him and that he’d done his best to assure her that he hadn’t taken Rex’s bicycle apart out of spite and she believed him. With so much that she couldn’t tell Rex staring her in the face she grasped for a straw. “I just don’t think a police officer would resort to such a thing, that’s all.”

Rex’s expression softened. “You’re probably right.” Lifting an arm, he draped it across her shoulders. “Always sweet, always forgiving Silky.” He sighed, squeezing her to him. Somehow the intimacy of the move made her feel terrible, having just lied to him to save herself.

“Silky—” he said, patting her arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking my anger out on you. Forgive me?” He granted her a dimpled smile.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Rex.” She reached up and covered the hand on her shoulder with her own. “Let’s go. Wade’s waiting.”

He nodded. “Okay, lady, we’ll do it your
way—I won’t give Annie the satisfaction of seeing me miffed.”

She raised her brows at his mild choice of words.
Miffed
would not have been hers. He was still talking. “Keep your ears and eyes open and let me know if you hear anything. Somebody—be it a he or a she—is going to pay the piper for that little trick. Mark my words.”

Chapter Seven

S
ilky pulled off the gravel road onto a grassy alpine meadow sixty miles east of Fairbanks. An emerald pond dotted with blossoming water lilies lay twenty feet from the road beneath the shade of a semicircle of diamondleaf willows. A few feet beyond the pond, the trees thickened and became as varied as the Alaskan wilderness would allow, with Sitka spruce, pine and several more species of willow drawing a curtain before the countryside beyond.

Some of the more industrious members of the pack were erecting tents. Two orange, a yellow and a fire-engine red one were sprawled across the colorful flora, in varying stages of construction.

Other, less-driven, members of Sag had their shoes and socks off, and were dangling their feet
in the pond. That looked like a good idea to Silky, and she rolled her bike toward the water. Thigh-high fireweed, the fuchsia heads dipping and bowing in the breeze, was thick beside the road, making her trek toward the pond no easy matter, but the vision of cool water lapping at tired feet drove her forward.

“Hey, everybody!” Silky turned toward the tenor voice as Leonard Huff hurried out of the dense wall of trees. He pointed back into the woods that hugged the banks of the Chena River. “Wade’s found a hot spring back here. Who’s in favor of a warm dip?”

There was an instant, almost reverent silence, as all activity stopped. Then Beth slowly stood up, dropping a stake and allowing her tent to billow out and then settle in a red heap at her feet. “Warm?” she breathed. “A
warm
bath?” It came out in a comical mixture of a sigh and squeal as everybody came to life and began scrambling in their panniers for swimsuits and soap.

Today’s ride had been easy-paced purposely, since most of the pack had spent the night at the Midnight Sun Celebration baseball game, which, they had been happy to report, the Gold Panners had won handily. Now everyone, even Silky—she realized with some relief—had energy to spare. A warm swim would be a luxurious treat after more than a week of cold dips in streams or outdoor showers. Hurriedly Silky rolled her bike to where the others were chained, and dug out her suit.

“Come on, Silk.” She didn’t have to turn around to know Annie’s high-pitched command.

“Coming, Mother,” she joked, taking off her safety helmet and circling the strap over her handlebars. “Where do we change?”

Annie cracked out a short laugh. “Bushes, kiddo. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Silky turned to face her friend. “You’re asking a woman who has spent seven days and six nights in the Alaskan wilderness where her sense of adventure is?” Brows raised with mock arrogance, she quipped, “In your hat, Ms. Toone. Lead me to those bushes.”

Annie chuckled dryly. “Put a few miles under her belt and she turns into Wonder Woman. Last night’s rest sure must have done you a lot of good.” With a wave that looked as though it could lead a cavalry charge, Annie motioned them forward. “There’s some thick scrub by the hot spring to change in. I’ll be darned if that Wade Banning didn’t pull this little miracle out of
his
hat. He’s really some kind of guy, isn’t he?”

Silky didn’t answer; an odd lump blocked her throat. She only nodded. It looked as though Wade and Annie were beginning a mutual admiration society of two.

“What’s wrong, kid?”

Silky blinked toward her friend, coming to a halt before a low branch that led into the thicket. “Nothing. I’m fine. Why?”

“Hmmm.” Annie scratched her freckled nose.
“You’d better tell your face, then. You look like you’ve just mislaid your last friend.”

Mislaid
, yet! Annie sure could pick her words! But Wade wasn’t the subject Silky intended to broach. Not now, not ever! “Don’t be silly,” Silky countered, injecting a heartiness into her voice that she didn’t feel.

“Come to think of it, you’ve been acting—goosey all day.” Annie was not to be deterred, it seemed.

“Me?” Silky stalled. She’d avoided saying anything about the bike incident this morning, hoping that someone would say or do something that would prove the culprit wasn’t Annie. That hadn’t happened, and visions of Annie studiously dissecting Rex’s bicycle kept cropping up in Silky’s mind all day … almost as much as the vivid, unwanted memories of her unfortunate—she swallowed—allegiance with Wade.

She stepped over the branch into the thicket with a sigh. “Annie?” Casting a furtive glance around, she whispered, “After you got back from the game last night, did you do anything … incautious?”

“Incautious? Jeez! Now there’s a great word.” She screwed up her freckles in apparent confusion. “Like what?”

“Anything?” Silky coaxed weakly, not knowing quite how to bring the bicycle subject up.

“Hey, love, I never kiss and tell, not even to you.”

Silky shook her head grimly. “Don’t kid, Annie. I’m serious.”

Annie shrugged off her T-shirt. “Seriously? Okay, I was bushed, beat and too tired to pucker. Exactly one and a half minutes after we got back, I was unconscious. Why?”

Not wanting Annie to see the doubt in her eyes, Silky pulled her T-shirt over her head, mumbling, “Oh, no reason.” Struggling out of her shorts she asked with feigned nonchalance, “How did you and Rex get along at the game?”

Annie’s lips went up at the corners. “Oh, you know. The usual. He glared at me. I glared at him. During the seventh-inning stretch, he sat in my cola.”

Silky slid a narrow glance toward her friend’s smirking profile as Annie concluded, “That was the highlight of the game, if you ask me.”

Pulling on her suit, Silky asked, “Oh Annie, can’t you ever leave him be?”

Tying her two-piece at the back, Annie asked blankly, “And take the sun from my sky? Never! You ready to hit the beach?”

Hiking the navy polka dot one-piece over her breasts and tying it behind her neck, Silky nodded. “I guess. Let’s go.” She knew nothing more about the bike incident, but she knew that Annie was definitely the number-one suspect. What was worse, Annie would be tickled pink to know it!

The mineral spring, Silky discovered, was a nice size, nearly as large as an average high-school pool. Some ancient volcanic thrust had left a jutting of rock at one end, making a
natural shelf for sunning. Beneath the surface, another slab of rock formed a shallow area about waist deep, extending fifteen feet out into the pool. Beyond the shelf the water was much deeper.

An avid swimmer, Silky took advantage of the warmth and freedom of the deepest part of the pool. Floating on her back, she watched as an impromptu game of water baseball took shape. A beach ball had magically appeared. Silky smiled, wondering who had come prepared for the absurd eventuality that they might need a beach ball in the wild Alaskan interior!

A whoop went up from the team at bat, if you could call clubbing a beach ball with both fists a bat. Silky glanced toward the game as the oldest man on the trip, fifty-three-year-old George Martin, lumbered awkwardly toward his attractive brunette niece, Riva Healy, who was playing first base. The base itself had been improvised from a plastic garbage bag, filled with air and knotted at its opened end. Then it had been tied loosely with string about the baseman’s waist.

George collided playfully with Riva as Wade tossed the ball from second. Silky reflected on Annie’s rather colorfully put opinion concerning George and Riva’s true relationship. She’d suggested in no uncertain terms that, “Riva is George’s niece like I’m Lady Gaga's voice coach! Who do they think they’re fooling, anyway—out here making hay while the midnight sun shines!”

Several minutes later, a plunk near her face and a sprinkle of water in her eyes announced that someone had hit a home run.

“Silky, throw it back, will you?” Rex called.

“
No!
No you don’t,” Annie shouted. “Wade gets to score on that one.”

“I know that!” Rex snapped back. “I just want the ball. Do you mind?”

Wade had rounded third and swam past Ice, who was playing catcher. He pushed himself onto the rock ledge as Annie plopped down. “Where’s Dan, Wade?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she cupped her hands about her mouth, calling, “Danny-boy, you’re up!”

Wade’s laugh, rich and deep, echoed out across the choppy water. “I think it might be better if we don’t look for him, Annie. Beth is missing, too.”

“There goes half our team!” Annie thrust her arms wide in a gesture of helplessness, exaggerating the loss.

“Two-fifths,” Wade corrected. “Randy, you go next.”

Silky found herself intrigued by the glinting ripple of Wade’s muscles as he brushed his dark hair away from his face. She hadn’t spent any time with him today, that is not since she, Rex and Wade had put Rex’s bicycle together. It hadn’t been a hard chore but, for Silky at least, it had been an extremely uncomfortable hour.

With Rex’s arm flung across her shoulders, he and Silky had strolled to where Wade waited beside the disassembled bike. A flash of something
Silky couldn’t quite read had exploded in Wade’s eyes when he had looked up to see them walking toward him so casually connected. That look—like a meteor burning out in the earth’s atmosphere—had bothered her all day, and she’d fretted about what it might have meant. But then his eyes had narrowed immediately, resolve hardening his lips. At least it had seemed so in that all-too-brief glimpse. A blink of an eye later, the odd, stony expression had been replaced with bland pleasantness.

Bland pleasantness.
That had been Wade’s attitude toward her the remainder of the day. Any time he had come within a few feet of her, he’d presented a good-mannered smile and a few polite, but reserved, words before going on his way. It was true that he was behaving exactly as she’d wanted, as she’d asked, but it wasn’t making her happy. This new Wade just wasn’t the real Wade, not the exasperatingly inquisitive but charismatic person she’d grown to know. Somehow, the necessity of having their relationship move in this direction saddened her.

Riva squealed as Wade struggled through hip-deep water toward first base. They’d gone through the batting order as she’d daydreamed. Holding out her arms, Riva encircled his waist, giggling. “Oh no you don’t, Wade. I’ve got you!” Her musical titter was gay and a bit coquettish, Silky mused darkly as she watched Wade disengage himself from the young woman with a chuckle.

Annie flung herself off the rock ledge. “Oh for
pity sake, Riva. You can’t attack a runner like that without the ball! Try to remember what game we’re playing!”

“Shut up, Toone! I wouldn’t talk
games
if I were you.”

Annie, chin jutted for a fight, pivoted toward Rex. Hazel eyes flashing dangerously, she charged. “What do you mean by that, Overbridge?”

Silky tensed for the inevitable confrontation, but apparently Rex changed his mind and waved her off. Pulling the string that secured third base to him over his head, he muttered to no one in particular, “Listen, I’m through. You all do what you want.” Turning away, he pushed off the bottom and began swimming out toward Silky with smooth, powerful strokes. She watched as he approached, admiring his graceful form. Rex had always been a fine athlete.

“Hey, Sil.” He came up beside her, his voice lowered in a confidential whisper. “I want to talk to you privately. Come with me.” He cocked his silver-tipped head, glistening with droplets of water, toward a thicket on the far side of the pool. Silky’s throat tightened with anticipation. At last! Rex was going to tell her he was sorry, that he’d made a mistake by leaving her for another woman.

She smiled tentatively, feeling unexpectedly shy. “Why … of course, Rex.”

He took the lead, climbing out ahead of her and extending his hand. “I think we can have a little privacy while the children are playing.”
Smiling coolly, he helped her from the warm water. Her skin was instantly chilled by the cooler air, and she hugged herself, shivering.

Rex noticed her move and laid an arm across her shoulders as he led her into the dense foliage. “It is a little cold when you first get out, but it’s still nearly eighty degrees out here. You’ll be okay in a few minutes.”

They walked a few yards into the trees, where a large outcropping of granite jutted vertically twelve feet into the air, giving them a natural barrier from prying eyes. Leading her into the deep shadow, he pulled her against him with an urgency that almost collapsed her lungs.

Dazed, she could only listen as he muttered intently against her ear, “I’ve been trying to get you alone for days. If you only knew how I’ve wanted to hold you like this.” He pulled her closer, moving his hands over the damp back of her suit. “You’ve been incredible Sil, not holding a grudge about Paula. I appreciate that.”

Silky rested her hands at his rib cage. Lifting her head, she gazed at his face, waiting for him to go on.

Brushing his lips across her forehead, he murmured, “You look fabulous, honey.” A hand slid up her back to the tie at her neck, and to Silky’s astonishment, he tugged the strings loose.

Her intake of breath was lost in the sound of his groan. “Ohhh, honey. Let’s just say the seven-year itch came a little early for me….” His hand was sliding down and forward, beneath her arm. She knew his objective was her
breast, and she felt a disconcerting surge of dismay, even alarm. Pushing away, she clamped her hands protectively over the bodice of her suit, fumbling for the ties. Lips opened, she stared at him, but could not grasp a coherent thought in the ricocheting jumble of emotions colliding in her mind. Feeling lightheaded, she clamped her lips tightly and merely stared.

He was staring too, but his expression was not one of shock, as hers was. Paradoxically, his face held a guileless look of total innocence, a complete lack of understanding for her rejection of his advances. He put out a hand, touching her bare shoulder. “Silky? What is it?” The other hand went out, but she pulled farther away, stepping back into the cold, rough surface of the stone barrier.

“Rex! You can’t—we can’t—” She swallowed spasmodically. Were things no different at all? Didn’t he realize her pride was badly bruised and needed salving, that he had an apology to make? She braced herself mentally. “Rex, aren’t you s—sorry?” With her heart in her throat, she watched as his brows beetled. Then a wry grin split his face.