Wedding Survivor (36 page)

"Marnie. Stop the psychobabble crap. You don't know anything about me. You have no idea what's in here," he said, tapping his chest. "A couple of rolls in the hay does not mean you
know
me."

That remark took the wind out of her sails. "And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked tightly.

"Just that."

"I know you're not that cold, Eli. I think you have been stung and now you are pushing—"

"Will you
stop
?" he suddenly snapped. "That's the problem with you, Marnie, you just keep talking without ever listening. You don't
know
me. You will never know me, any more than I will know you. We've had some good times, but don't make it into something it's not!"

He might as well have slapped her—his words hurt just as bad. She'd never said she expected anything… but she didn't have to say it, did she? Her deeds had said it for her, and he'd seen it. He'd damn sure seen into
her
heart, and had just punted it right out of the ballpark. She dropped her gaze to the bag. "Fine," she muttered.

"Oh for God's sake, please don't be hurt," Eli groaned.

That infuriated her and she jerked her gaze to him. "I'm not
hurt
, Eli. How could I be hurt if I don't give a damn? Newsflash! You don't know me, either! But I guess you think every woman you sleep with is looking for happily ever after with you, right? Yeah, you're such a stud."

"Marnie," he said, but she flopped down on her side and pulled the quilt up around her face where she couldn't see him.

"Is it okay if I sleep here? I really don't have anywhere else to go."

"Yes, of course you can!" he said irritably.

"Great. Good night." And she closed her eyes. Squeezed them shut.

Eli sighed. Twice. But he said nothing.

"You're not the only one who has ever been hurt in this life, Eli," she muttered angrily. "You don't get a Purple

Heart for having suffered a bad relationship. You pick up and move on."

Eli said nothing. Marnie was too angry to think and hoped tomorrow she could think of something clever and witty to say that would put him in his place. That's what he needed, he needed to be put firmly in his place, the sorry bastard. And just how she'd put him in his place was the subject of the many thoughts that banged around her brain as me rain lulled her to sleep.

Sleep did finally come, because at some point, something—a sound, a movement—woke her. She opened her eyes, wondering what time it was. The rain had stopped, and the moon had come out, judging by the thin ray of light seeping in from the flap of the tent. It was open, because Eli was sitting there, staring out into the meadow.

She came up on her elbows and stared at him. What the hell was he doing? It was then that she noticed she was covered with the sleeping bag, He had covered her in his sleeping bag so she wouldn't be cold.

Oh no, he didn't care one bit, did he?

Stupid man.

Marnie lay down and snuggled deeper into the bag, and drifted back to sleep, the image of a lonely, stupid, stub-bom cowboy in her mind's eye.

THE next morning, Eli walked down the ravine so he could get some air—he'd been surrounded by Marnie's scent all night and it was driving him crazy, because he loved the way she smelled. But then he'd been such an idiot and had a knee-jerk reaction that cost him a chance of getting close to her.

God, he wished he weren't such a jerk. Especially and particularly since he really liked Marnie, liked her so much he'd hardly thought of anything else in the last couple of weeks. And since their little foray into storm sex the other night, he'd been aching to hold her again.

But then she'd shaken him up with talk of love and weddings, and a lot of old feelings had come rushing back up, and he felt something old and clumsy rising up in him. He was definitely feeling for Marnie what he'd once felt for Trish, only it was different somehow. Stronger. Deeper. A feeling that was, oddly, way more alive than it had ever been for Trish.

All right, already, Marnie wasn't Trish. No, Marnie was far better than Trish, which made his feelings even more disturbing—he had, potentially, much further to fall. He'd never really figured out what went wrong the last time—with Trish, he thought he'd done everything right, but in the end, it was wrong, all wrong. He had no idea why or how, but something obviously didn't work right, or Trish wouldn't have done what she did.

None of this would be an issue if he hadn't let his guard down with Marnie. But now that he had—
shit, he'd even told her about Trish
—he didn't like how vulnerable he felt, as if he were flaying himself open so that she could poke around inside him with her finger.

No, he didn't like that at all.

Okay, so he had his baggage… but he didn't have to be such an ass. He wanted to apologize for being so short with her last night. He just needed to find the right moment.

She was still sleeping when he'd left the tent, and he glanced at his watch now. A quarter past nine. He took his radio from his pocket and called Cooper. A few minutes later, he wished he hadn't beeped him, because Cooper told him Jack was having trouble getting a rotor blade up here, and that it would probably be the next day before someone could get them off this side of the ravine and put them on the side of civilization.

"What about repairing the bridge?" Eli suggested as he peered down the ravine at the remnants of the old bridge.

"We've got a crew from Pagosa Springs lined up," Cooper said.

"Really?" Eli asked, a little surprised. He'd learned a long time ago that this part of the world moved a whole lot slower than L.A.

"Really. They ought to be able to get to it next week. A month at most."

"Ah hell," Eli groaned over Cooper's laugh. "What about food?"

"Ah, now Jack's come up with a solution for that. He's bringing it up to you now."

"Thanks," Eli said. "If you could send up a gun and shovel, too, I'd appreciate it."

Cooper laughed again. "Look, dude, we'll get you out of there," he assured him. "Just sit tight."

"I don't think I can sit any tighter, Coop. And I'd just like to remind you and the other party animals down there that I was the one who was dead set against this deal."

"Hey, trust me, you got the sweet end of the deal, pal," Cooper said amicably. "We're fighting chaos down here. Do you know how much wine and champagne was shipped up here? Do you know how much two hundred people can drink? The lodge sent a truck to Durango this morning to buy out every liquor store they can find. We've been in the middle of party central for twenty-four hours now, and there are no signs of it ending anytime soon—you ever seen one hundred pounds of feathers spread out?"

"You're kidding."

"I am not kidding. They rolled the guy who directed
Love Bites
in those feathers last night, and he's still picking them out of his hair."

Now it was Eli's turn to laugh. "Serves you assholes right for leaving me up here with these egomaniacs," he said, and grinned at Cooper's spicy retort. They talked a little more, then Eli hung up.

He was starting the climb back to the meadow when he heard the sound of four-wheelers, followed by the even clearer sound of maniacal laughter. The party was coming back.

By the time the guests had driven up to the ravine, the stranded bridal party had half rolled, half fallen down the trail in their haste to see what was going on, beckoned by the call of motors and laughter.

Vince, who arrived far ahead of Olivia, asked what was happening. Marnie stood on the other side of Rhys and re-fused to look at Eli. Her hair, he noticed as she tripped over a rock, was even wilder today than yesterday. In his T-shirt, her fleece jacket, and the boots she refused to lace, she looked like a wild mountain woman.

Olivia stood in front of them all, her hands on her bony little hips, her mouth set in an implacable line.

"They're bringing up some food," Eli said.

"Thank God!" Olivia snapped, just as the four-wheelers came into view.

There were at least six of them, and a dozen people fell off the things when they came to a halt, laughing and carrying their morning mugs of whatever, visibly steaming in the crisp morning temperatures.

A very stoic Jack arrived behind them, pulling a small trailer behind his four-wheeler that carried one of Marnie's industrial-sized snowblowers. He stepped off his four-wheeler and walked purposefully to the edge of the ravine, took out his radio, and flipped it open as the party guests gathered around behind him.

Eli flipped open his radio, too. "Yo."

"We're going to shoot some sandwiches and apples at you. Tried soft drinks, but that didn't work out."

Eli glanced at the snowblower—as did the rest of the bridal party, seeing as how they had heard what Jack said—and stared at it, trying to process how, exactly, this would work. But Jack didn't give them a chance to ask questions, for he had turned away and was marching through the guests back to the trailer with the snow-blower.

"Hi, Livi!" Olivia's mother called as they waited for Jack. She was hanging off the cinematographer, waving with her free arm.

"Oh
Jesus
," Olivia muttered.

"Hey," Vince said, peering across the ravine, his arms folded tightly across his chest. "Is that Ari?"

Olivia gasped and looked to where he pointed. "Ari!" she shrieked.

From across the ravine, Ari let his hand drop from the shoulders of a young woman. "Ah, little raindrop! You must have a care, for I detect bad karma!" he called out to her.

"No shit," Eli snorted.

Olivia moved as close to the edge of the ravine as she could get, her hands clasped to her chest. "Oh Ari, I wish you were on this side to help me through this! It's a horrible ordeal! You cannot imagine the conditions under which we are surviving!"

"For chrissakes," Vince moaned.

Ari shrugged and looked down at the pretty blonde he'd been handling just a moment before. "You must have strength, little raindrop, for is it not adversity that makes us wiser?"

"Wiser?" Marnie asked Rhys. "Or stronger?"

"Perhaps both," Rhys opined.

"And I shall be here to guide you when you are ready to cross the chasm!" Ari continued.