Authors: Renee Roszel
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Annie was contrite.
Rex didn’t relinquish his hold. Pulling her off in the direction of their camp, he said sardonically, “Truer words were never spoken.” Flashing a wicked grin over Silky’s head toward Annie, he offered gayly, “Say good night, Gracie.”
“Rex Overbridge,” Annie shouted toward their backs, “I’ve met a lot of people in my life, but you’re not one of them!”
Silky dropped her head; she just didn’t feel like refereeing anymore. Rex ignored Annie, much to Silky’s relief. He held her tightly with one arm about her shoulders. “How you doing, Sil?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe if I lie down a while, it’ll pass.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “I hope so. You’d hate to miss the fireworks.”
Silky searched the foliage for the first sign of their camp. She felt clammy and weak, and she was afraid that every step would be the last one her legs would successfully execute.
“Just over there.” Rex cocked his silver blond head, and Silky’s listless gaze slid to the right.
She sighed heavily. “Thank goodness.”
Crawling inside her tent with nothing on her mind but curling up and trying not to be sick, Silky was surprised to find that Rex joined her in her cramped quarters. Raising up on one elbow, she asked weakly, “What are you doing?”
He smiled knowingly. “Joining you.” One hand slid down her bare arm to rest on her nylon-clad hip. “Getting to see you alone is one hell of a chore, honey. You’re always with that watchdog Annie or that bothersome kid.”
Silky looked down at the hand on her hip. His fingers were tickling the fabric. Taking his wrist, she moved his hand away. “Rex, I don’t feel very well.”
He shook his head. “You’ll be fine in a minute. I’ll see to that.” Lowering his face to hers, Silky was appalled to realize that he was about to kiss her. His hand moved to her stomach this time. She felt like she’d been jabbed with a hot poker.
“Rex!” she moaned, backing into the nylon. “Do you want me to be sick all over you?”
His brows beetled. “Don’t be silly, Sil. You aren’t going to be sick. Come on, now.” He slid a
hand up to cup a breast and his brashness made her inhale sharply.
“Rex. My God!” She pushed his hand to the bedroll. “You can’t be serious.”
“Never more serious, darling.” He slid closer to her, lifting his relentless hand up to slide over her waist to her back. “I’m dying for you,” he whispered, kissing her jaw and murmuring, “Soon as we get back to Anchorage, let’s get married again.” His hand had slipped beneath her blouse and toyed with the waistband of her shorts.
Her stomach lurched violently as he pressed his aroused male hardness against her, and she compressed her lips to hold back the rising feeling of nausea in her throat. Beyond the sensation of physical illness, she also became aware of another kind of unease. Something wasn’t quite right. What was it? Hadn’t Rex just proposed? Of course, he’d picked a terrible time, but he’d asked her to marry him.
His hand at her back became more aggressive, as his fingers moved slowly down over her hip. Only the gauzy lace of her panties separated him from her bare skin.
“No.” She pressed her fisted hands against his chest. “Rex, I’m sick. Please leave me alone.” Pushing herself up, she slid around him toward the tent entrance.
He grabbed her shoulder. “Hey.” His fingers tightened, and she grimaced, craning around to look at him. His features were a mask of anger,
and his eyes glittered harshly. “I’ve put up with a lot from you on this trip. And I’ve been a good little scout because that’s what you wanted.” Without relinquishing his grip, he crawled to face her. “But, it’s my turn. What’s wrong now? I said I’d marry you. What more do you want?”
What more? She stared, her eyes wide. Rex was as devastatingly handsome as ever, with the white blond hair of an angel, and the silver-tipped lashes of a movie idol. He was tall, intelligent, a stylish dresser; he knew the best wines and the best places to eat. But, suddenly, she didn’t know what he looked like, what he really was. It was as though she had never laid eyes on him before. Where was the real person in this neat, well-built male shell? Didn’t he see that she was ill? Didn’t that matter to him at all? Would he never learn to think about another person’s feelings? Was he so self-centered that he saw only what he wanted to see?
She was confused. Shaking her head, she whispered with an unsteady rasping in her voice, “What more do I want, Rex? I—I don’t know. Something.” Looking up unswervingly into his eyes, she ordered quietly, “For now, just take your hand off of me and go.”
He challenged, “Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?”
She pulled her knees up, hugging herself. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“That’s the damned truth!”
Her eyes were riveted on her knees. Without looking up, she knew he had left her alone.
Oddly, her nausea was completely gone. But, in a trade that seemed only fair, considering everything, her head was pounding unmercifully.
For a long time, Silky didn’t move, preferring to sit and count the throbs in her head—anything was better than thinking.
W
earing slickers as protection from the constant drizzle, they passed into Canada. The days of dismal rain that followed helped disguise the real reason for Silky’s black mood from everyone. Everything, from clothes to bedrolls, was damp and dreary, and there had been little talk while packers conserved their energies to battle the mud and rain and cold. Tomorrow they would reach Whitehorse and, so far, Silky hadn’t had the strength or the heart to say anything to Randy about being left with his mother’s second cousin.
Late that afternoon, the sun had finally come out, and their camp was teaming with activity as, at long last, a hot dinner was being anticipated. Tonight Silky was on cleanup duty, so she
was free until later. Maybe now would be the time to talk to Randy—
“Damn you, boy!” Rex bellowed, jerking Randy by the neck of his T-shirt. “Where did you think you were going with my biking shoes?”
Silky’s jaw dropped, and she jumped up from the stone where she had been sitting. “Rex, let go of him. For heaven’s sake, he’s just a child!”
“Hell, Silvia. This child, as you so generously call him, was stealing all three pairs of my biking shoes. What was I supposed to do without them, borrow your sneakers?” He yanked Randy forward and the boy settled in a slouched, but not cowering, stance, looking dourly toward Silky. A crowd had begun to gather.
“What’s wrong?” Wade asked quietly.
“Nothing that a good thrashing wouldn’t cure.” Rex released the boy, and put his fists on his hips. “This kid was stealing my biking shoes.” He jerked his head to the small litter of shoes behind them. “I knew all along that he was no good. Now he’s proved it.”
“Maybe he was just living up to your expectations, Rex,” Wade offered mildly. “I don’t mean to make excuses for the boy, but this constant rain has made us all a little buggy.” With a small nod, he motioned for Randy to come with him. “We’ll have a little talk, okay? After all, I do represent the law here.” He looked around at the others. “Is that okay?”
There was a vague, disjointed nodding among the numbers. Silky looked around, wondering
where Ice was. Almost immediately she had her answer.
“Hey, fellow rockers, what’s the gig?” Ice ambled out of the woods with an armful of dead willow branches. “The kid been being a kid again?”
Wade hung a loose arm about the skinny boy’s shoulders. “It seems that Randy was making off with Rex’s biking shoes. I was just about to ask him why. Would you care to come along?”
Ice nodded reluctantly, dropping the willow branches by the cleared area where the fire was to be built. “Guess I’d better. What’s with you, kid? You got a thing for shoes?”
The two men and the boy disappeared into the trees. Silky stood stiff and nervous, watching them go. Still, somehow, she felt that Randy would get a fair hearing, and that relieved her.
“I wonder if Annie didn’t pull those pranks, after all? Maybe I’d better apologize to her.” Rex had walked up to join Silky, but he was talking to himself.
“Clever boy. I guess you can’t always tell brains by appearance.” Annie appeared out of nowhere, nodding her red curls obligingly.
“You’re mighty quick with the answers, aren’t you, Toone,” Rex grumbled.
“Not really, big fella. It just seems that way to you.” Silky struggled to hide a smile as Annie went on without pausing, “Why don’t you get a pair of those irresistible shoes on, barefoot boy, and we can go finish gathering that firewood. It won’t be so easy with all this rain we’ve been
having.” She took his elbow in a strong grip and turned him away from Silky. Squinting back over her shoulder, she called in a mock whisper, “If we aren’t back in an hour, assume we’ve done each other in and eat cold cuts.”
Ten minutes later, Wade, Ice and Randy came back to the camp. Ice went back to getting the fire going, Randy crawled into his tent and Wade resumed setting up his own tent. Silky couldn’t stand not knowing what had happened. Laying aside the paperback she’d been pretending to read, she brushed the seat of her shorts and walked over to Wade, whispering conspiratorially, “Well?”
He was on one knee, pushing a metal stake into the soaked ground. Lifting his head, he looked up at her, his expression purposely blank. “Well—what?”
Silky sat down beside him on the grass and leaned forward. They were behind his tent. No one could see them from where they were. Scowling at him, she coaxed urgently, “What happened out there with Randy? Did he tell you why he stole the shoes?”
“He wouldn’t come out and say why, but it isn’t hard to figure. The kid’s jealous of Rex, Silky. He’s in love with you.”
“Who—” She swallowed. “Rex or—”
“Randy.” Wade watched her face for a moment before adding, “I can’t say about Rex. Sorry.” Silky ran a nervous hand through the fine, blond hair at her temple as Wade went on, “He admitted that he took Rex’s bike apart, too.”
He pursed his lips. “He didn’t mention letting the air out of Rex’s tires that first day. If he did that, he must have fallen in love with you when he first laid eyes on you. Poor little guy.” He shook his head. “A few more like that, and you’ll have your own basketball team.”
“What?” She wasn’t quite sure she’d heard him right.
He smiled at her, but the pleasant expression didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Nothing.” Flipping the stake in the air, he caught it. “I had a feeling about Randy, but—”
She interrupted. “Did you two punish him? I saw him crawl into his tent.”
“Ice told him to apologize to Rex.”
“Did he say he would?”
Wade laid the spike down, chuckling wryly. “Not only did he say he would, he already has. Rex and Annie make a loud pair of wood gatherers. They weren’t hard to find.”
Silky sighed, putting a hand to her cheek. “Good.” Then, looking back up into Wade’s face, she asked, “Then why did he go to his tent?”
“He’s humiliated, Silky. The kid needs time alone.” He brushed the dirt from his hands, reaching out to touch her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry about Randy. He’ll get over his crush. Kids do it every day.”
Silky chewed on her lower lip. “I’m not worried about that, Wade. I know I’m no femme fatale. It’s not that.” She exhaled heavily, leaning back dejectedly on her hands. “It’s just that this has come at the very worst time.”
Wade quirked a brow, leaning closer to her and resting a palm near her thigh. “What do you mean?”
She could feel the radiant heat of his arm near her leg. Feeling awkward at his nearness, she shifted her weight away. Allowing her eyes to drift along his shoulder, she couldn’t help but notice how nicely the aqua color of his biking shirt and shorts contrasted with the deep tan of his face. “I—what I mean, Wade, is that Ice plans to leave—” She swallowed with difficulty, as her fingernails dug into the damp earth. “Ice doesn’t want Randy—doesn’t feel that he can take care of a child Randy’s age. He’s going to leave Randy with some distant relative in Whitehorse tomorrow.” The story was falling out in a distasteful rush of words. She needed someone else to know, and it seemed that that someone was going to be Wade. “And Wade—he’s asked me to be the one to tell Randy he’s going to be abandoned again!
Me
, Wade! Don’t you see how much worse it’s going to be on Randy—on both of us—now that you’ve told me how Randy feels about me?” Distractedly, she brushed away an errant tear.
Wade’s expression softened, and compassion glistened in his dark eyes. A sad smile curved the well-shaped corners of his mouth as he reached up to touch her cheek. “Well”—he brushed at the streak of dirt that her thoughtless swipe at the tear had left—“it looks like I had Ice figured all wrong. I thought there was more to him than that.”
A giggle born of hysteria gurgled up in Silky’s throat. “You may not be wrong much, but when you are wrong, you’re exceptionally wrong!”
His exhale was audible. “Especially lately.” Shaking his head wearily, he offered, “Listen, Silky. Let’s tell him together. Maybe if he knows that he has two friends in Anchorage who’ll write, and who are interested, he’ll take it better.” He took her arm in a gentle grasp of reassurance. “What do you say?”
A great relief rushed through her body, making her feel as limp as a rag doll. She hadn’t realized until this moment how much the pressure had been building up, knowing that she had the sole responsibility of breaking Randy’s heart. Somehow, Wade made it seem less hopeless. With the beginnings of a smile that seconds ago she would never have considered possible, Silky nodded. “Yes. Thanks. I would really appreciate that.”
He squeezed her arm and smiled. “Well, like they say—there’s no time like the present. Why don’t you, Randy and I take a little walk?” He stood, pulling her to her feet with him. “Randy has friends. We just need to make sure he believes that.”
Wade still held her arm. With a grateful smile, she touched the hand there. “I wish I’d confided to you some time ago, Wade. I—” Her eyes had moved to Randy’s tent. A flickering behind the nylon caught her immediate attention and her face closed in a confused grimace. Cocking her
head, she asked, “Wade, does Randy have a lantern? It looks as though he has a fire—”
“
God in heaven! Randy!
” The high-pitched shriek of panic split the quiet evening as Ice rushed virtually through the fledgling fire he had been tending toward Randy’s tent. Silky stood transfixed. She saw a small, black circle form on the nylon and grow like a cancer, as smoke began to stream upward from its center.
She felt a hard yank on her arm as Wade leapt up. “The kid’s bedroll is on fire—” he growled, pulling her with him.
Before they could get there, Ice had literally torn the nylon apart with a strength she would never have imagined possible for someone of his slight build. Smoke billowed out of the torn tent, and Silky prayed, “Good Lord. Don’t let him have suffocated in all that smoke.”
Ice was dragging the unconscious child from his burning bedroll while Wade, Leonard and Dan were dousing the fire with damp earth. Silky ran to Ice, trying to keep panic from rising in her throat. She must keep calm. Randy’s life could depend on the next few minutes.
“Ice—” she choked, “let me look at him. He may need CPR.”
Ice lifted his head toward her, but he didn’t seem to see or hear. He just sat there, rocking Randy’s head in the crook of his arm. Silky bit her lip to see his hands, burnt and blackened. But Ice didn’t seem to notice as he held Randy, smoothing back his singed hair with the underside
of his free wrist. His silver glasses had been knocked away in his attempt to rescue the boy, and unheeded tears flowed freely down his sooty cheeks. He was pleading in broken sentences, “Gimme a break, will ya kid? Dammit—can’t ever do anything the easy way? Ya gotta do it all wrong first—like me, like your dumb old man.” He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his arm. “Ya gotta try to kill yourself just to prove to me what a dumb jerk I’ve been—”
“Ice!” Silky touched his arm carefully. He was so blackened by the soot that she couldn’t be sure how serious his burns were, but she had to get his attention. “Ice. You have to let me—”
His distracted, glazed expression told her that trying to reason with him would do no good. Without waiting any longer, she bent to check Randy’s pulse. It was strong, and she breathed a sigh of relief. A sharp cough from the boy riveted her attention back to his smoke-darkened, pinched and dirty face. He was breathing!
Reaching up, she loosened his shirt, checking his face with slow, professional care. He was surprisingly free of burns. His eyebrows were singed, as was the hair on the left side of his head. There was a possibility of a few first- and second-degree burns that would have to be treated and watched. But all in all, he looked pretty good.
He coughed again, stirring in Ice’s arms. When he opened his eyes, they were swimming. “Da—daddy?” His raspy voice was unsure, questioning.
“I’m sorry. Guess I fell asleep while I was—”
Ice nodded, quieting the boy. “I know, kid. You were smoking.” With fingers that had to be in terrible pain, Ice smoothed the boy’s cheek. “Tell ya what, muscle-head. You promise me you’ll give up smoking and I promise I’ll get us that two-bedroom apartment, so you can have that room of your own. What do you say? Deal?”
“Deal…” Randy squinted up at his father. “Hey, Ice. You crying?”
Ice pressed his lips together and swallowed hard, shaking his head. “Well, kid, sometimes a good cry is an important part of growing up. I suspect you’ll just have to get used to it, cause I figure you and me are gonna be doing some pretty heavy growing up together.”
Now Silky wasn’t breathing. She stared, unblinking, at Ice as he smiled down at the boy in his arms. What had he just said? They’d be doing their growing up together?
Together!
Randy coughed again and closed his eyes, snuggling into the smoky shirtfront that cradled him. “Looks like you need me more than I figured.…” Tired, but contented, he let the sentence trail away.
She felt a light tap on her shoulder, lifting her from her dreamlike trance. “Silky?” It was Leonard. “Just wanted you to know Wade called 911 and they are sending an ambulance. Luckily, Whitehorse is only about twenty miles down the main highway.”
She nodded. “Thanks. While we wait, I’ll get these fellows bandaged up.” She looked past Leonard’s concerned face to see Wade standing quietly beside the charred remains of Randy’s tent. His expression was solemn, waiting. Pushing herself up from the ground, she hurried to him and, without a second thought, put her arms about him, sighing happily. “Oh, Wade. They’re all right.” With a crack in her voice, she looked up at him. “And Ice is going to keep Randy. Can you believe it? He’s going to keep him after all.” With a relief she hadn’t felt in weeks, she buried her face in Wade’s chest, and let the relieved tears flow.
At first, Wade just stood, his expression somewhat surprised, but after a few seconds, he lifted his arms very gently to her back, holding her as a friend might hold another friend, murmuring, “I’m glad, Silky. I’m very glad.”
“When did you say they’d be released from the hospital?” Annie asked, pedaling up beside Silky the next morning.