Wind Shadow (6 page)

Silky heard a low, disbelieving sound and
realized with a start that it had come from deep in her own throat. She bit her lip as Ice hurried on.

“Even though Randy doesn’t know this woman, he’s not dumb. He’ll see it’s better this way.”

Remembering those big sad eyes, Silky wondered how it must have hurt him, at his age, to have been tossed out like yesterday’s garbage by his mother. Her question was low and unsteady. “You’re leaving Randy with someone he doesn’t even know? You’re running out on him, too?”

Ice’s face drained of color, his mouth hardening in a line of unshakable resolve. “It’s all I can do; don’t you see that? Besides, he’ll be with blood kin.”

She turned away, blinking out into the distance, trying not to think of Randy’s unsmiling little face. A marsh hawk dipped into her line of vision and she followed its flight skyward. Though the bird soared with lofty, spirited freedom, its solitary celebration in the sky did nothing to lift Silky’s forlorn spirit. She now understood what Ice wanted her to tell Randy. Shaking her head, she whispered, “You want
me
to tell Randy you’re deserting him.” It came out in a resigned sigh.

“Lord!” He groaned miserably. “Don’t say it like that.”

Silky spun to face him, her narrowed eyes sparking, critical. “I’ve never heard of anything so cowardly in my life! How could you ask this of
me? The
least
you owe him is to tell him yourself!”

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, sure. But, what you
should
do, and what you
can
do—it ain’t always the same thing!” He lifted his glasses and rubbed roughly at his eyes, the act of a man trying not to cry. He croaked raggedly, “Look … lady. You can’t call me anything I haven’t already called myself.” She watched his lips tremble as he stammered. “Ju—just be his friend, will you? Then, maybe—maybe later? It doesn’t have to be this week, or even next week. Just tell him sometime before we get to Whitehorse.”

Silky slumped back, closing her eyes. She felt wretched. The tree trunk was hard and unyielding, but no more so than she intended to be. “Now at least I know why he’s been so unhappy. Poor kid… being abandoned by his mother.” She felt a stab of dislike for this man, this quitter! It wasn’t bad enough that he was a quitter, but he didn’t even have the fortitude to
tell
Randy he was quitting. She gritted her teeth. A firm
no
was poised on her lips. When she lifted her eyes toward his again, Ice’s glasses were back in place, hiding his desolate eyes. But to her extreme distress, she saw a lone tear trailing down his grimy cheek, leaving its damp track in the dust. The firm
no
wavered without sound on her parted lips.
The man was crying!
She had never been able to bear seeing a man weep. A feeling of defeat washed over her. With an unsteady
tremor in her voice, she whispered, “I … I’ll get to know Randy, Mr. Douglas. Besides,” she added with a touch of rancor, “—maybe he would be better off with this second cousin, anyway.”

For a long, oppressively quiet moment, he stared at her, unmoving. She stared back, but all she saw was her own reflection in his glasses. She saw in doubled miniature what he saw; a flushed face closed in a contemptuous frown. Her expression spoke very clearly of her disapproval.

With a moist hand, he gripped her shoulder, muttering self-consciously, “Thanks, Mrs. O. You’re good people.” Nodding to further affirm his statement, he seemed too affected for any more words. Abruptly, he stood.

Avoiding his gaze, Silky stood too. There was nothing at all that she could think of worth saying, so she remained silent. With a quick swoop, Ice pulled his towel up from the ground and, slapping it nervously against his leg, he ducked under a low branch and walked away toward the creek. As he left her, Silky noticed that he was standing a little taller, while she suddenly felt very bent. But the pain in her back could not totally be attributed to the added weight of responsibility he had dumped on her.

Putting her hand to her lower back, she kneaded the sore muscles. All the crouching against the wind today had left her cringing at the idea of getting on that bike again to go into Fairbanks for the Midnight Sun baseball game.
All she wanted right now was to rest—to
sleep!
But, even that possibility seemed remote after her haunting conversation with Ice. Thinking about Randy, she doubted that she would get any sleep, either! Mumbling to no one in particular, she observed dryly, “It’s been a great day.”

Silky had always heard that a dip in a cold creek was supposed to revive a body, not aid in killing it off. Though she’d managed to survive the frigid dip, the very thought of the impending trip into Fairbanks made her feel faint.

Shaking her head wearily, she fluffed her still-damp hair as she walked to Annie’s tent. Bending, and grimacing at the way her back muscles protested yet another forced folding of her torso, she called softly, “Annie? You in there?”

“Yeah, kid. Just glossing the old lips.”

Silky straightened. “Makeup? You?”

A curly red head popped out of the end of the tent as Annie grinned at her friend. “Don’t panic, hon. It’s just medicated gloss. I’ve got chapped lips.” She crawled out and zipped up the opening. As she stood, she looked at Silky’s attire for the first time. “Hey, you can’t go to the game in your shorty robe. Better hurry and get dressed.” She looked down at her wristwatch. “We’re supposed to shove off in a minute.”

Silky shrugged tiredly and sighed, rubbing a hand against the damp nape of her neck. “Annie, I couldn’t get back on that bike today if you paid me. Honestly, I just can’t understand why I’m having so much more trouble than
anybody else on this trip—even Randy is doing better than I am.” She shook her head and sighed disheartenedly at her admission of failure.

Annie lifted her brows sheepishly and shrugged. “Well, kid, to be honest, you shouldn’t feel
that
distressed about it, really. Sag’s not quite the group of beginners I told you it was.”

Silky cocked a quizzical brow. “Not quite? How ‘not quite,’ Annie?”

The redhead made an uncomfortable grimace, avoiding Silky’s narrowed eyes by scouting the higher branches of a pine tree. “Uh … well, pretty darned ‘not quite.’ ”

When Annie’s gaze fluttered down for an appraising look, Silky glared at her. “I hope you’re not going to tell me anything I’ll be forced to break your freckled neck for!”

Annie held up a halting hand, waving it in the negative. “Don’t overexert yourself on my account. The ugly truth is that everybody in Sag—but you, that is—belongs to our bikers’ club.”

“I knew that.”

“Yes—well, what you may not know is that we’re all pretty salty bikers, if I do say so myself—even Randy. Or should I say
especially
Randy. Kids! They’re all muscle. No fat. No sense. They never quit.” She tried for lightness with a chuckle.

Jaws locked in irritation, Silky urged stonily, “Go on.”

“Well—uh.” Annie’s smile waned and she
tugged at her ear as she went on, “Actually, Silk, this isn’t really the sort of trip beginning bikers usually take. Even though I didn’t know everyone in the group, I did know they’re all seasoned bikers who decided to ride Sag to get a little more sightseeing in. Even so, our pace has been pretty darn brisk for most beginners.”

Silky’s stare was sharp and unswerving, like the steadily held blade of a knife. “Pretty
damn
brisk, you mean! Why didn’t you tell me this before!”

Picking a piece of pine needle from Silky’s robe, Annie ignored her friend’s anger, answering in a motherly tone, “You know, kiddo, when you get tired, you get a little cranky. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” She patted Silky’s shoulder in an impudent attempt at camaraderie. “Just look at it this way. You ought to feel pretty good about keeping up as well as you have. You’re a real trooper!”

“Well, if I’m a trooper, then you’ll have to admit that Rex is absolutely fantastic. He’s keeping up, and he just joined the club for this trip.”

Annie let out a cracking laugh. “Oh, he’s fantastic all right, if
he’s
any judge. Besides, I hear skirt chasers have to keep in pretty good shape.”

Silky groaned, throwing up her hands in total frustration. “Annie, you know I love you like a sister, but sometimes you can be a royal pain in the neck!”

“You have a much higher opinion of her than I do, Sil,” Rex broke in, a definite sarcastic edge to his voice.

Both women turned to see him walking toward them. When he got near enough, he reached out and lightly traced Silky’s nose with a finger. “Trouble in paradise?”

Annie purred near his right elbow, “Well now, if that wasn’t straight from the horse’s mouth.” The corners of her lips lifted maliciously. “For once, Rex, you’re the
front
end!”

Hastily, Silky moved between them, taking each by an arm. “Look you two, do you mind if we call this one a draw? I’m awfully tired.”

Annie took pity. “You let go so that I can get the circulation back in the old fingers, and it’s a deal.”

Silky dropped her hands as Annie continued, “Now, back to your dragging little tail. If you’re too pooped to go, then don’t. No problem.”

“What’s this?” Rex asked. “You’re not feeling well?” He held her shoulders, his eyes narrowing with concern. She smiled at his interest, noticing how attractive he looked in his emerald green biking shirt and shorts. The words
Alaskan Sport
were spelled out in navy between two diagonal silver stripes across his chest. His shoes, too, were emerald with silver accent stripes. The only part of his wardrobe that remained the same from day to day was his tan safety helmet.

He was so tall, so athletically slender, and his cleanshaven face was so dashingly angular, that
the sight of him standing there nearly took her breath away. “Oh, I’m okay, Rex, just beat.”

Cocking his blond head in that jaunty way he had, he squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll stay here with you. I certainly couldn’t enjoy the game, thinking about you being out here all alone.”

“She won’t be, Rex. But, thanks anyway.”

Both Silky and Rex raised their heads simultaneously at the sound of Wade’s baritone. Annie turned too, speaking first. “Hi, Wade. How’s the leg?”

“Mediocre, thanks.” He walked forward the few remaining feet to join them and Silky noticed that his limp was much more pronounced than it had been that morning. It looked as though his day of leading the tight pack in the high winds had done his leg some real harm. “Wade,” she said, “you need to get some heat on that.”

His smile was easy. “I plan to. So, you see, Rex”—he shifted his eyes almost reluctantly away from Silky. “You don’t need to stay. You go on and have a good time.”

“Now just slow down a minute.”

Annie waved, interrupting. “Wade, let me take it,” she offered pleasantly, almost too pleasantly. “Okay, Rex, read my lips. Wade said, ‘Go … on … and …’”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Rex shot at her before turning to Wade. “I’m staying! End of discussion!”

Annie shook her curly head. “Look, Rex.
There’s nothing I’d like better than to have you here at camp and out of my hair. But, somebody needs to remind you about just why you’re on this little jaunt—publicity for the store, remember? Bread’n’butter time? Well, this game is going to have all kinds of press, both for the game and for the Biked-Alaska-thoners.”

As Silky watched, Rex’s scowl softened at Annie’s words. “Besides, they’ve got special bleachers set up for us, probably even be some interviews.” She paused. Rex’s face was now clearly registering the business implications of making an appearance at the game. Annie added with a trace of forced enthusiasm, “That outfit of yours would sure show up well on color TV, don’t you think?”

Standing stiff and tense, Silky was feeling worse for some odd reason. Her back throbbed. Part of her added distress, she was sure, was the discovery that Wade would be there in camp,
alone
, with her for most of the night. Tension raised her voice an octave as she asked, “Who’s going to lead if Wade doesn’t go?” Knowing how his leg must be hurting him, Silky didn’t begrudge him his right to stay in camp and nurse those overworked muscles; but still there was a tiny hope—way down in her toes—that somebody would suggest that since the leader couldn’t go, maybe it would be better if nobody went.

“I’d asked Annie to think about leading for me.” Wade patted the redhead’s shoulder. “Besides,
somebody needs to stay here to watch the camp. Since I can’t ride, it might as well be me.”

“I can stay and watch it,” Silky offered a little too enthusiastically.

Annie dusted her hands together, a look of satisfaction on her expressive face. “Good, you’ll both stay. Maybe between the two of you we can come up with one healthy person. “C’mon Rex. Let’s round up the stragglers. We’ve got a ball game to bilk for all the hype it’s worth.”

Giving a resigned shrug, Rex turned to follow Annie with a final helpless glance at Silky. He was going.

Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, Silky exhaled heavily and ventured, “Well, what do I do? Patrol the perimeter?”

“You could.” There was a brief moment when he just stood there smiling down at her. “Is that what you want to do?”

She dropped her eyes to her slippered feet. “Actually, I really just want to go to bed.” Her long lashes fluttered back up to meet his gaze straight on. “But if I’m needed to do something, I’ll do it. I feel badly enough about not having the wherewithal to make the game.”

Smiling, he shook his head. Somehow, it seemed like a reassuring gesture. “You’re doing great, Silky. By next week, you’ll be keeping up just fine.” Reaching out, he touched her jaw with a finger, sliding it down to her chin. “If you want to go to bed, go on. The camp will be fine.”

She moved slightly, lifting her chin from his
soft touch. Her eyes slid away from his face, and the unbidden thought that he was strikingly handsome in blue skitted through her consciousness as she realized he was wearing the same light blue shirt and hip-caressing navy pants he had worn the first day of the trip—the day he had kissed her. She felt her cheeks go fiery hot with the memory.