Wind Shadow (2 page)

“Right,” Silky agreed reluctantly.

“Second, your new job doesn’t open up at Midtown for another five weeks, and with me
gone, you’d go crackers all alone in that apartment. Check?”

“Well, actually, Annie—”

“Oh, just say ‘check’ and
hush!
”

“Check,” Silky repeated obediently as Annie hurried on.

“Okay. If you’ll remember, you resisted those logical reasons. I knew you would.” She lifted her sharp little chin with pretended smugness. “We exceptionally fine salesmen of the world have to be part psychologist, so that we’ll know how to appeal to the soft touches of the world—make ’em putty in our hands.”

Silky nodded, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “I’m putty for you, I suppose.”

“Silly putty, my dear.” Annie’s expression became not too pleasantly knowing, and Silky felt uneasy about having started this conversation.

“So, I slugged you in your emotional underbelly with the news that Rex the wonder-louse was coming along on this trip, and—POW!—what an about-face you did! Silky Overbridge was ready to hit the road with the rubber. Remember now?”

Silky cleared her throat self-consciously. “It’s coming back to me. What do you say we just drop it—”

“If you want my opinion,” Annie interrupted, holding up a hand to halt Silky’s attempted protest, “and you should whether you know it or not, just because that pickle-brain broke up with his floozy doesn’t mean you have to take him back. You’d do yourself a big favor if you’d just
stomp him like you would any other crawling pest. But”—Annie lifted her thin shoulders in exaggerated helplessness and sighed heavily—“it’s your life to ruin if you must.”

They stopped to let a pair of bikers pedal across their path. Silky shot Annie a perturbed glance. She didn’t want to go into this again, especially in public. Trying to keep the conversation from taking an argumentative turn, Silky asked with hard-won control, “Considering how you feel about Rex, I can’t understand why you wanted me to come along on this trip.”

Annie’s high-pitched chuckle sounded a little like a cackle. “Two reasons. First, if absence makes the heart grow fonder, I’m wondering what four weeks of dust and bugs are going to do for you two.”

“And second?” Silky demanded tonelessly.

Annie smirked, shaking her head. “Can’t tell you. Not yet.”

They started walking again and now Silky was definitely in no mood to talk. Annie’s cryptic remark made her frown thoughtfully. Just what did this hard-crusted marshmallow have in mind? Whatever it was, it boded no good for Rex—and probably nothing but trouble for her. Even so, this was her chance to get Rex back. No matter what was flitting around in some dark cranny of her friend’s mind, Silky wasn’t about to turn back now.

Rex had hurt her, yes. But when Silky had married him, she’d promised that it would be for “better or worse.” People go through phases and
that’s what had happened to Rex. He was over it now, she was sure. Divorce or no, Silky was not ready to call her marriage a failure. She was no quitter.
Failure
was just not a word that she intended to have linked with any area of her life.

She and Rex could—
would
—get back together. After all, she’d changed, too. She’d gone back to get the degree she’d had to abandon when she came to Anchorage as Rex’s bride. She’d gotten a good job offer and she looked better, too. At least that’s what people had told her since she’d spent so much time biking with freewheeling addict Annie. Surely, Rex would see and appreciate the differences in her. She wasn’t just a “little housewife” anymore. All the time they’d been married she’d thought that was what he’d wanted her to be but it hadn’t been.

Annie startled her out of her somber reverie with a nudge. “Silk! There’s Sag Pack. See? Over there.”

Silky looked up in the direction of Annie’s excited waving. The shopping mall parking lot was Sunday-morning empty except for fifty-odd bikers organizing for the Anchorage Cyclists’ Club’s first Annual ‘Biked-Alaska,’ a trip through the forty-ninth state’s vast summer wilderness.

“Where, Annie?” Silky squinted, but couldn’t make out anything that looked like
pack.

“See, over there under the mall sign.”

Silky nodded, finally seeing the small fluttering sign that read
Sag.
They increased their pace.

Silky looked around for her ex-husband. Her heart fluttered with nervous anticipation. She didn’t see him and hoped that nothing had happened to change his plans. She couldn’t imagine going on this extended trip without Rex.

Annie was waving again. “Hi, Beth—Dan. Silky, come on.” She called back over her shoulder. “I want you to meet everybody.”

Silky pushed to catch up with her animated friend. The bulging panniers over the back wheel of her bike made it much harder to maneuver, something she realized she’d have to quickly get used to. She pulled up into a ragged semicircle of equally burdened bikers—seven of them. No, eight—six males and two females, ranging in ages, Silky guessed, from about fifteen to nearly fifty.

“Silky.” Annie touched her arm to get her attention. “I want you to meet our pack leader first. He’s fairly new to the club—came from Detroit, I think, but he loves biking.” She motioned toward a tall, broad-shouldered man who was busily passing out papers to other members of their group. He was talking quietly. In profile, Silky could see that he was quite attractive. His curly hair shone blue-black in the morning sun, and his features were angular and strong. His lashes were long, dark and curled back, but—turned as he was—she couldn’t see the color of his eyes.

He wore a powder blue biker’s shirt that had a zippered pocket on the back. His navy shorts were the type made for serious bikers. Especially
constructed for comfort and minimum wind resistance, they were skin tight. Silky was fascinated by the play of muscles clearly outlined beneath the stretchy fabric. As he shifted his weight, the firm hips and broad, corded thighs flexed, changing the masculine sculpture in small but extremely intriguing ways. She found it impossible to look away for fear of missing the next intimate undulation.

But Annie was insistent. “Silky,” she whispered rather sharply for the third time out of the corner of her mouth. “Here he comes. Try to stand up straight.”

Silky started. “Try to what?”

Annie’s face pinkened, and she didn’t meet Silky’s eyes. “Uh, nothing.” Smiling broadly at the man coming toward them, she called out, “Hi, O great leader.”

Silky turned back to look at the man. His walk was graceful—as graceful as any large man with a slight limp could be expected to be. His left calf, she could now see, was badly scarred, no doubt the reason for the slight…
limp? Scarred!

Her eyes rocketed up to meet his. They were black—as black as an Alaskan winter’s night. Right now, much to Silky’s distress, they sparkled with the same seductive devilment she had seen over two weeks ago in the hospital. “Oh no …” she moaned, cringing inwardly as he reached them.

Unaware of Silky’s anxiety, Annie held out a welcoming hand. “Wade, remember I told you
I’d be bringing along a piece of excess baggage? Well”—she extended a sweeping hand toward Silky—“here she is. I want you to meet my roomie, Silky Overbridge.”

Silky barely caught Annie’s flippant introduction. She was hoping wildly that he wouldn’t remember her.

He extended his hand. “We’ve met.” He was smiling at her. “Silky. Short for Silvia Kay. I like it.” Taking her hand, he squeezed gently.

Her insides twisted into a tight knot. He hadn’t forgotten. Nodding vaguely, she found herself thinking that maybe she should at least be grateful he hadn’t said, “Ah, yes, Silvia Kay Overbridge, the hospital nit-wit.” “Hello,” she said, her voice raspy. She tried swallowing. “How—how’s Officer Taylor?”

Wade released her hand slowly. “A little older, a little wiser, but otherwise fine.” He handed her a piece of paper from his dwindling stack. “Here’s a map of the route and some wilderness safety tips. Glad to have you aboard, Silky.” He turned to Annie, who was standing mute. When he handed her a page, she seemed to come awake.

“You—you two have met?” she stammered, not an easy thing to get Annie to do.

Wade slid a quiet glance toward Silky and his grin became teasing and charmingly crooked. She stiffened, waiting. He must have seen her unease, because he answered only, “Yes, briefly, late one night.”

Annie’s freckles crowded worriedly together
over the bridge of her nose in a confused frown. Before she could pose another question, she was interrupted by a tenor shout.

“Silky!” The voice was as familiar as six years of marriage could make it.

Silky swung her head around to see her ex-husband pedal to a squealing halt inches from her side. Her heart thudded with excited anticipation at their first meeting in so many months.

He looked down at her in that self-assured way he had. His blond hair, straight and closely trimmed, was the same as she remembered, though his forehead seemed a bit higher, the result of a gradually receding hairline. His eyes, the bright blue of an Alaskan summer’s sky, were fringed by long, light lashes that were tipped with silver in the sunlight.

Silky inhaled deeply. He was a perfectly beautiful man. Well built, he was more slender than Wade but nearly as tall. As her gaze swept over him, Silky thought how very much like a model he looked now, dressed in striking red biker’s shirt and shorts, the shirt sporting a vivid yellow stripe racing diagonally across it. In the stripe, in bold black lettering, were the words
Alaskan Sport.
Looking down the length of his legs, she saw that even his biker’s shoes were red and yellow.

“Hi, Sil.” One corner of his mouth curved up in a grin that revealed a single slashing dimple. She wordlessly nodded, unable to find her voice as Rex scanned the faces of her two companions. “Oh.” His smile faded measurably. “Hello,
Annie. I thought you were riding with Silver Pack.”

Annie lifted thin shoulders nonchalantly. “Was, but Silky balked at riding seventy-five miles a day so I decided to ride Sag with her. Sixty miles per is still a pretty good pace.”

Rex reached out to shake Wade’s hand. He introduced himself. “Rex Overbridge. I manage the ‘Alaskan Sport.’ We just started carrying biking sports equipment.”

Wade withdrew his hand as his dark gaze took inventory of Rex’s colorful garb. “Clothes, too, I gather.”

Rex nodded. “Definitely. They
do
make the cyclist, don’t they?”

Wade’s lack of comment spurred Rex on. “I’m taking this little jaunt to advertise the new line—was going to ride with Century Pack, the hundred-milers, but when I found out little Silk was in Sag”—he smiled down at her—“I figured I’d just ride along with you all and help her out.”

“Oh? Well, I’m sure Century’s loss will be our gain. I’m Wade Banning, Sag Pack leader.” He handed Rex a route map. “We’ll be getting underway shortly. If you folks will excuse me, I’d better check the others in.” He turned toward Silky and Annie, nodding. “Ladies?”

Annie touched his sleeve and said in an overly loud whisper, “You’ll learn to love Rex. The man’s a prince.” Wade’s lips quirked with wry humor as he turned away.

Silky shifted a nervous glance to Rex, hoping he hadn’t heard. Apparently not. He was busy
adjusting the tiny rearview mirror on his safety helmet. She then turned snapping green eyes back toward Annie. The redhead was smiling blandly. Her expression was excruciatingly innocent but her eyes danced as she remarked cheerily, “This trip is going to be fun. I can tell.”

Chapter Two

H
i. Mind if I join you?” Wade asked as he took a seat beside Silky in the shade of a diamond-leaf willow she had chosen, some distance away from the others in the pack.

She looked up, surprised, her half-eaten apple poised at her lips. Lowering it, she smiled tentatively. “Why—uh, no.” It wasn’t totally the truth. She would have preferred to be eating with either Rex or Annie, but neither one of them seemed to be around just now.

He leaned back against the rough bark. Breaking his Granola bar in half, he offered her a section. “Here. Have some quick energy.”

She hesitated. “Oh no. I couldn’t take your lunch.”

“Sure you could.” He laid it in her hand. “I’ve
already had three.” He grinned. “The apple is good, but don’t neglect your carbohydrates.”

“You sound like my mother.”

He laughed out loud. “I like her already.” Drawing his knees up, he leaned forward, draping his arms casually about them. “I want you to know I’m glad to have a medically trained person in our pack. I don’t anticipate problems, but you never know.”

She took a bite of the bar and looked out across the alpine grass. They were by lovely Mirror Lake, twenty-six miles north of Anchorage. She was tired after the morning’s ride, but the crisp freshness of the summer breeze ruffling her hair revitalized her and she took a deep breath.

Turning back to him, she was surprised to see how dark and direct his eyes had become. Lowering her lashes, she answered, “I’ll be glad to help if I can.” She felt a flash of uncomfortable color warm her cheeks at his reminder of their meeting in the hospital. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. With grim determination, she decided that rather than avoid this man for a month, she might as well clear the air once and for all. Swallowing several times before trying her voice again, she finally spoke. “Since you brought it up”—she lifted a shoulder in an apologetic shrug—“I’m really sorry about thinking you were … a …” She stuttered to a halt as his expression opened in a friendly grin.

“A felon?” he helped. “A crook?”

Her lips quirked into a small smile. She
couldn’t help it in the face of his guileless expression. “Yes.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize, Silky. I was working undercover. It was my job to look like a thug.” He ate the last of his Granola bar before running a fist across his clean-shaven jaw. “Worked on that scruffy disguise for two days.”

Silky’s eyes widened as he went on. “You aren’t supposed to tell a cop by his cover, you know. By assuming I was the bad guy, you complimented me.”

She was looking down at her hands, now full of apple and Granola bar. A long finger lightly touched her chin, lifting her face to meet dark, soft eyes. “Thanks.” His expression was encouraging as he lowered his hand to his bent knee, adding, “Now, you say, ‘You’re welcome,’ and finish that lunch.”

His offhand dismissal of something that had been so disconcerting to her put her at ease, and for the first time, she smiled a legitimate smile. “You’re welcome.” Following orders, she took a bite of her apple and began to relax. She watched the languid sweep of a willow ptarmigan, the Alaskan state bird, as it skimmed the lake for food.

“Say,” Wade began conversationally, “how come two people who seem to like each other as much as you and Rex do got divorced?”

The Granola she’d just swallowed became a cloying obstruction in her throat and Silky doubled over in a fit of coughing.

Wade helped with a couple of sharp raps between her shoulderblades. “You okay?”

She waved away his concern. “Ye—yes.” She cleared her throat. “How—how did you know about Rex and me?”

He leaned slightly toward her. “Rex Overbridge?
Mrs.
Silvia Kay Overbridge? What kind of a detective would I be if I couldn’t figure that out?” After a brief pause, he added with a wide grin, “Besides, Annie told me.”

Silky grimaced, her green eyes narrowing. “Figures.”

Undaunted, he asked again, “So if you like the guy so much, why the divorce?”

Silky could see that Wade didn’t mean to be hurtful. Still, his directness was unsettling. Abruptly, she changed the subject. “I’m glad to see how much your leg has improved since I last saw you. How is this trip going to affect it?”

He chuckled. “You’re right. Your divorce is none of my business. Forget it.” He straightened the leg in question in front of him. The movement caught Silky’s eyes and she watched as he flexed it several times.

“I started riding a stationary bike for therapy after my … accident in Detroit. Got hooked on the real thing later. Leading the ‘Sag’ is therapeutic.”

She stretched her legs out too, crossing them at the ankles. With a tired sigh, she said, “Therapy for you, assault and battery for me. My seat must be made of concrete.”

She looked up in time to catch his gaze sliding to her hips, clad in white nylon shorts, as he took a slow, careful survey of her softly curving anatomy. A half-smile played across his lips as he remarked, “That wouldn’t have been my guess.”

Silky’s face flushed scarlet at the unexpectedly sensual quality of his deep voice. She swallowed uneasily, but before she could speak, Rex walked swiftly up to them, pushing his bike and sputtering angrily under his breath.

Coming to a stop at their feet, he exploded, “Who the hell is the wise guy?”

Wade frowned, crossing his arms casually over his chest. “Beg pardon?”

Rex gritted through clenched teeth, “Some creep let the air out of my tires when I was—uh, indisposed.”

“No!” gasped Silky.

Wade lifted a questioning brow. “Are you sure? Maybe you just had a slow leak.”

Rex’s light blue eyes flashed angrily. “Am I sure! Of course I’m sure. Just what kind of a fool do you take me for?”

Wade shrugged, rubbing a fist across his mouth and mumbling something that sounded like, “Not sure yet.” Or did he? Silky couldn’t be absolutely certain.

Rex blurted, “Well! What are you going to do about this?”

Wade shrugged wide shoulders and slowly stood up, dusting off his shorts as he straightened.
Nodding at Rex, he turned toward the main gathering. “Say!” he called loudly, “Did anyone let the air out of this man’s tires?”

The bikers, lounging in small groups or standing idly beside their bikes, all stared blankly back or shook their heads in the negative.

Silky saw Annie now, seated cross-legged beside a young married couple, Beth and Dan. Annie’s expression was every bit as bewildered as the others’.

Wade nodded, apparently satisfied. “Okay, thanks.” Turning back to Rex, he said, “Well, Overbridge, it looks like you just ran into some prankster passing by. Next time, you might take your bike into the woods with you.”

Rex’s look was one of complete astonishment. “What? You mean to tell me that’s all you’re going to do about this?”

Wade pursed his lips in thought. “Can’t really do much, Rex. I didn’t have room on the bike for my lie detector, so I guess we’ll just have to take these folks’ word for it this time.”

“And that’s it! That’s all? I had to walk this thing six miles, you realize.”

“Six miles,” Wade repeated, shaking his head and looking concerned, but not overly so. “You don’t have a pump, I take it.”

Rex snarled back, “If I did, I wouldn’t have had to walk!”

“Too bad.” Wade took hold of the handle bars. “Well, I do. Have your lunch and get some rest while I pump this up. We’ll be leaving in about
ten minutes.” With a friendly nod toward Silky, Wade led the bike away.

Silky stood and stretched, brushing the crumbs of her dehydrated dinner from her lap. It was after ten o’clock, but still dusky light on this long, Alaskan summer evening. Dinner over, most of the pack were either quietly talking around the dwindling embers of the camp’s fire, or pitching their one-man tents.

Silky was bone weary but, after spending most of the last year working nights, she found it hard to imagine going to bed this early. Besides, she felt grimy. She wondered if she really could hear the faint gurgle of a stream from the nearby woods.

She decided it wouldn’t hurt to check. Pulling a robe, soap and a towel from her pannier, she walked off into the Alaskan twilight along a woodland path.

Yes. The gurgling grew louder. Silky smiled when she finally saw the water sparkling beyond the trees. Reaching the grassy shore, she looked around. Deciding that she was safely alone, she stripped off her white tank top and shorts, shoes and socks, leaving on only her brief bra and panties.

Just as she moved to unfasten the catch between her breasts, a hand slid boldly around to her bare stomach. “You’ve lost a little weight,” a familiar voice whispered near her ear. “I might add, you’re looking great.” His fingers pulled her back, kneading the skin lightly.

She sucked in a surprised breath. “Rex! W—what are you doing here?”

He turned her to him. His smile was dashing, making her knees quiver. He laughed brightly, pulling her close. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m getting off alone in the woods with my favorite lady.” One hand slid down her back to cup a rounded hip, and he moaned into her throat, “Oh, Sil, you feel so good.” He pulled her against the long, lean frame she remembered so well. She was made very aware of his aroused state and she found herself stiffening at the realization. Rather than being pleased that Rex wanted her, she felt an odd, angry knot form in her throat and a queer surge of hurt sting her eyes. How dare he come here and take her into his arms again like this as though nothing had changed between them, as though the past year of pain and loneliness had never existed!

He’d noticed that she’d lost weight. Yes, she certainly had. For the first two months after he’d walked out, she hadn’t been able to eat or sleep. If it hadn’t been for Annie’s constantly shoveling food into her and insisting that she get out into the fresh air on all those maniacal bicycle rides—if it hadn’t been for Annie’s constant nagging that finally convinced Silky to enroll at the university—well, she just didn’t know where she’d be now. Now. She sucked her lips nervously between her teeth.

What was she going to do? This wasn’t how she’d pictured their reconciliation at all. She’d expected an apology, a little wooing, not to be
fondled as though he’d only been away on an extended business trip.

“Rex.” She pressed her hands against his red-and-yellow-clad chest. “Please.” She pushed hard, and he lifted his head.

“Please what, darling?” His voice was heavy with desire.

She watched him tentatively through her lashes. Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought that she’d be put in the position of fending off the very man she wanted back! But this way was no good, somehow. It wasn’t right.

She reached behind her back and pulled his hand away from its intimate hold on her. “I—I.” She paused, unsure of what to say. She didn’t want to anger him but she needed more time. They both needed more time. Lowering her gaze, she decided to take the easy route. “Somebody might see us.”

His face clouded. “But, honey, it’s been such a long time.” He would have taken her into his arms again but she stepped out of his reach.

“Yes, yes it has.” Her jaw worked with the devastating memory of how long and miserable a time it had been. “Please go back to camp, Rex.”

He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled heavily. “Well, maybe you’re right.” He nodded gravely. “I’ll go on back.”

She felt an odd combination of relief and sadness wash over her. “Yes, I think that would be best.”

He reached out and tugged at one of her
pigtails. His half-smile was vaguely teasing. “Later, then, pretty lady.”

He turned away and walked back along the path, his every step deflating Silky in a way she couldn’t fathom. Her eyes filled with ridiculous tears as she finished undressing. Why? Why was she sad? She sniffed, wiping at her damp cheek as she dropped her underthings on the grass and listlessly waded into the water. It was frigid, but she hardly felt it. She was numb.

Her dreams and fantasies of her first intimate reunion with Rex had been so—so different from this scene in the woods. It was true, he’d come to her, and he obviously wanted her. But he hadn’t apologized or fallen to his knees begging her forgiveness, agonizing about how he’d been very, very wrong and that he knew now that she was the only woman in the world for him. That’s what she’d thought—hoped—he’d do.

As she soaped herself, she tried to shake off her depression. After all, hadn’t he proved he did want her back? That was a start.

A few minutes later she toweled herself, feeling clean, refreshed and bolstered by a new hope in her heart. Rex would come around. She just knew he would. He had to!

Slipping on her short, mauve terry robe, she scooped up her discarded clothing. Tomorrow would be another day. There was plenty of time.

“Ready?”

Silky was so startled by the disembodied voice that had apparently been posed by one of the
more inquisitive trees that she dropped her bundle of clothes, gasping, “
What?
”

Before she could recover, Wade Banning stepped out from behind a spruce. He ignored her question as he gathered up her spilled underthings and wrapped them in the towel with her other clothes. Handing the bundle back to her, he said, “I asked if you were ready to go back?”

He must have been out there watching her for some time, Silky realized with horrible certainty. Her face began to burn with indignant rage. “Just—just how long have you been spying on me?”

He smiled crookedly. “Not spying. Guarding.”

“Guarding?” she rasped, clutching her clothes like a shield. “Guarding what?”

“You, of course.” He cocked his dark head to indicate the path. “These north woods trails aren’t made by people, you know. They’re made by moose and bear.”

Her anger had grown so intense that her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before she could find her voice. “Oh, sure! You expect me to believe that you were worried that I’d be attacked by a wandering moose! No, Mr. Banning. I’m not swallowing that. You were sneaking around in the trees watching me take a bath!” Her voice was quivery and high-pitched.

He took a step forward and faced her squarely. There was mild curiosity in his expression. “Do you really believe I get my kicks sneaking peeks at women through the bushes?” When he said it
that way, a man as attractive and agressive as he clearly was, the suggestion did seem rather ludicrous.