Authors: Janet Dailey
'Nothing. Listen, if I'm keeping you from something, I'm sure I can still catch the airline's transport.' Jennifer sipped at her coffee, before pushing a strand of her copper-gold hair behind her ear.
Strong fingers captured her chin and turned it towards him. Quickly she jerked herself away, her heart hammering in her throat.
'I thought for a minute your eyes were green,' he mocked, picking up his coffee and raising the cup to his mouth. His eyes twinkled over at her. 'They're still brown.'
Jennifer rose angrily from the table. 'If you're ready to go, I'd like to leave now and get this trip over with.'
'For someone who's not a redhead, you certainly have a short temper!' Logan laughed.
Chapter Two
SNOWFLAKES fell with a blurring density around the four-wheel drive vehicle obscuring Jennifer's vision until she seemed adrift in a grey-white cloud. The only other occupant in her snow-surrounded world was the last person she would have chosen, the man behind the wheel, Logan Taylor. She glanced over at his profile, his attention concentrated on the few feet visible in front of them. The needle hovered at the thirty mark on the speedometer.
'Well, Jenny Glenn, are you going to maintain this silence for another two hours?' His hand flexed tensely on the steering wheel as he scowled out at the heavy snow mist.
'My name is Jennifer,' she corrected, her mouth setting itself in a firm little line as she spoke.
'I like Jenny Glenn better. It rolls so easily out of your mouth and forces you to smile. Jenny Glenn.' The dimple appeared once again as he repeated her name, glancing over at her with a disturbing twinkle in his eyes.
'I hate the name, Jenny,' Jennifer protested, even though the way he said it, it sounded rather nice. 'It sounds like a donkey or a mule!'
He glanced at her again. This time his smile was wide and unmistakably teasing. There was so much fun and warmth in his gaze that Jennifer had to look away or be drawn by his magnetic charm. She shivered slightly as she wondered if she was going to be the kind of woman who was always susceptible to the Casanovas of this world.
'Are you cold? There's a blanket in the back if you want to cover your legs,' Logan offered, his swift gaze taking in the nylon-covered legs beneath her olive skirt.
'No, I'm fine. Just a ghost walking over my grave, I guess,' Jennifer shrugged. She stared out at the smoky gauze of snowflakes. 'Do we have much farther to go?'
'Twenty—thirty miles, I imagine.'
'I hope Sheila isn't worried about me,' Jennifer mused.
'She won't be. You're with me,' Logan asserted. The devilish gleam in his eye mocked her.
'And that makes everything all right, doesn't it?' she retorted sarcastically.
Logan Taylor didn't reply as he slowed to negotiate a curve in the road. The snow had begun to drift, covering the highway until it was difficult to see it. But the reflector poles on the side of the road formed an imaginary corridor of safety. The jingling of chains added another touch of reassurance.
'You don't like me very much, do you?' Logan commented, his eyes never leaving the road as a crosswind tugged at the jeep.
'Don't be ridiculous. I hardly even know you,' Jennifer lied.
'Who's being ridiculous? I think you've already got me all judged and sentenced. Don't I fit the picture that Sheila described?'
Jennifer glanced at him coolly, taking in the brown of his hair, the bronze highlights hidden in the dimness, and the strong, chiselled jawline. Only masculine adjectives sprang to her mind, powerful, virile, arrogant, and no doubt, very experienced in the art of love.
'No, my impression was of someone older, more settled, a family person,' she replied honestly with a hint of rebuke in her voice. 'How long has my sister known you?'
He laughed lightly.
'Quite a while. Eric was my best friend. As a matter of fact, we both met Sheila at the same time. Your sister is a very beautiful woman. We both tried to date her, but Eric won. I couldn't make it to the wedding, or I probably would have met you. When Sheila moved out here, I naturally made a point of seeing her and the children. Little Eric is quite a man despite his seven years and Cindy tries very hard to emulate him.'
'You must see them quite often,' Jennifer commented, wondering if his interest was in the children of his best friend or her sister who had once spurned him in favour of another.
'I do. Your sister has a very admirable sense of independence, but once in a while she finds it convenient to have a man around to lean on. Paul and Katie, Eric's parents, have a tendency to spoil the children, which is only natural for grandparents, so I step in occasionally as a father figure to them. I serve as a steadying influence on them and keep them from demanding too much from Sheila.'
'You're a regular "big brother",' Jennifer commented sarcastically.
'What's that supposed to mean?' he asked with ominous quietness.
'That's what you are, aren't you? With your—er—anxious regard for my sister and her family,' she retorted, her eyes widening in false innocence.
'How long has it been since you visited her?' His eyes narrowed as he glanced at her.
'I saw her when she was home this past spring, but if you're referring to coming out here, this is the first time.'
Jennifer tossed her red-gold hair out of her eyes with a defiant movement of her head.
'You haven't seen her spend an afternoon with the children, and then work till all hours of the night on the things that she should have done during that time. Or the way she looks wistfully at her sketchbook and dreams of the ideas in her head being put on canvas. You haven't seen Eric and Cindy vying for her undivided attention during the precious moments they're together. Or the way they act so adult so they won't be a burden to her. It wouldn't matter if I'd never known her husband, I would still be interested in doing everything I could to help her. Now, you can turn up your nose and call me "big brother", but it isn't going to stop me.'
Jennifer flinched under the piercing censure of his glance. She had meant to provoke him to show her dislike and disdain for his interest in her sister. But she had disturbed the still waters of his easy-going outwardness and revealed the hidden and possibly treacherous depths of his indomitable character.
'I should have known it was impossible for there to be a second person as selfless and sincere as Sheila,' Logan muttered.
Jennifer realized she had asked for that put-down. At least now she knew just how much of a help she could be to Sheila, and not just an extra piece of baggage on an already heavy load.
The jeep fishtailed slightly as she started to apologize. One look at Logan's face was enough to tell her that now wasn't the time for talking. The few feet of road visible in front of them was a glaze of ice. Then ahead of them, the road began to curve.
'Hold on, Jenny. I don't think I'm going to make this turn.'
Silently, intently, she could almost feel him will the jeep around the corner. For an instant it looked as if he was going to make it, then a spray of snow flew on to the windshield as they careered off the road. They bumped and bounced to a halt, the snow on the windshield being slashed away by the pulsating beat of the wipers until again the smoky white world outside could be seen.
'Jenny? Jenny, are you all right?' Logan's hand was brushing the hair away from her face while his eyes examined her intently.
'I'm f-f-fine,' she managed in a shaky voice. With a nervous laugh, she added, 'I was scared out of my wits, though.'
'So was I,' he smiled. 'Nothing's broken? You didn't hit anything?'
'No,' she reassured him with a smile. His anxious and rather solicitous regard made her feel warm and safe inside, and she was sorry when he moved away.
'Well then, I'd better see what we've got ourselves into.'
He opened the door to a storm of snow and biting cold winds. His form was strangely dark in the obscure white void as he moved first to the front, then disappeared to the rear of the jeep. Seconds later he was back inside with snowflakes covering his head and coat, and his breath made smoky puffs in the cold.
The audacious twinkle was back in his eyes as he met her serious gaze. 'I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like first?'
'Give me the good news first,' Jennifer smiled.
'We're stuck.'
'Good heavens, what's the bad news?' she asked in a note of alarm.
'There's a building a few hundred feet back up the road with smoke coming out of the chimney,' Logan grinned.
For a brief moment, anger rose inside her before her innate sense of humour took over, and she burst into laughter.
'At last I know you have a sense of humour.' His laughter finished into a satisfied smile. 'It would have been rough throwing ourselves into a strange house if we were still at each other's throats.' His gloved hand patted the steering wheel thoughtfully. 'Well, you'd better bundle up. It's going to seem like a long hike in this weather.'
Jennifer nodded and pulled the hood of her suede coat over her head, fastening it securely around her neck. Taking her fleece-lined gloves out of her pocket, she swiftly slipped them on to her hands, glancing over at Logan as she finished.
'Get out my side. The snow's tramped down a bit more.'
She slid behind the wheel as he got out of the jeep. Logan was standing calf-deep in snow beside the door as she swung her legs around to get out.
'Those boots are going to do you about as much good as a dustpan when you're trying to shovel through a ten-foot snowdrift,' he laughed as he looked at her petite, fur-trimmed snowboots.
'I think they're only good
for cleared walks and ploughed streets,' Jennifer agreed ruefully, too fully aware of how much bare leg was going to be in the snow just standing where Logan was now.
He slid an arm under her knees. 'Put your arm around my neck. I'll carry you to the road,' he instructed, as his other arm encircled her back and waist.
For a second, Jennifer wanted to protest. She didn't want to be in such close contact with this man, but the foolishness of such a protest prevented her. After all, it was the most practical thing to do. So she relented, her arms encircling his neck.
They were only twenty feet from the road, but the wind was blowing directly into them. Jennifer was glad that she could hide her face in the brown suede of his coat, not just to protect her face from the icy blasts of the wind, but also to keep Logan from seeing the rising colour in her cheeks. Then he was placing her on her feet, retaining a hold on one hand while huddling down towards her in the flurry of snowflakes and wind.
'We'll walk now,' he nearly shouted, as the wind tried to whip his voice away. 'Keep a hold of my hand so I don't lose you in a snowdrift.'
They struggled against the upsurging cold blasts while the falling and blowing flakes danced maliciously around them. The fallen snow tugged at their feet, pulling and dragging to slow their pace. Then Logan stopped.
'We'll cut across here.' He pointed across the snow to the shadowy grey outline of a building. 'The snow may be deep. I can carry you.'
'No, no,' Jennifer protested. 'It's too far. If you go ahead of me and break the path, I'll be okay.'
His dimples were two dark clefts in his checks as he grinned at her, but didn't argue. He stepped into the untouched snow, his legs moving in close, scissor-like motions to leave behind a white furrow for her to walk in. The wind pushed at her as she tried to concentrate on staying in the narrow lane, steeling her numbing legs against the flurry of cold snow kicked up by Logan's feet. She felt like a tightrope walker balancing on the high wire.
It felt as if they had covered miles as Jennifer glanced around Logan's shoulder to see the house still some distance ahead of them. She was out of breath and the numbing cold grabbed at her legs, making her steps awkward and clumsy. Then she stumbled, falling on her knees into the snow.
'I'm so cold,' she panted as Logan pulled her out of the snow and brushed away at the snow clinging to her skirt and legs. 'I can hardly catch my breath.'
'It's the altitude,' he muttered with an expression of self-disgust. 'We're probably around seven thousand feet.'
Without asking permission, he swept her up into his arms. Jennifer had no strength to refuse. She was just grateful to hold exhaustedly on to his shoulder, as he carried her to the house.
She was disappointed when they were finally close enough for the snow to cease obscuring their vision. It was just a log cabin, not a house, a forlorn little building sitting isolated amidst the trees that poked their white-covered heads over the roof. She glanced at Logan's face to see his reaction, but there was none. They had barely reached the doorstep when the door swung open.
Standing in the opening was a lean, gaunt old man, his face covered by a growth of greyish-white hair with matching strands sticking out from the cap on his head. His shoulders were stooped and bent beneath the red flannel shirt he wore. As Logan stepped closer, Jennifer saw that the youthful flames in the old man's dark eyes denied that the fires of life were even thinking of dying. There was anything but welcome in his expression as he glared out at them.