“A girl’s got to take every advantage she can,” Kelly said haughtily, rubbing her wrist.
“Are you man-handling the pretty women, Mike?” Andy asked, coming through the door. “You want me to knock him on his can, Kelly?” he teased.
“Not this time, Andy. I’m afraid he might fight back and I want you to come down to the cabin. I’ve got a bottle of wine just begging to be opened.”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day. Hold on till I get my coat and I’ll be right with you.” He went back through the swinging door and Mike went to speak with Clyde.
“Kelly!” Marty hissed. “Are you out of your mind? Jonathan saw you wrestling with Mike and heard what you said to Andy. He looked as if he could have killed you! He won’t like it one bit if you take Andy down to your house.”
“Marty, understand this. I don’t care what Jonathan thinks. From now on I intend to please myself!”
Kelly and Andy stepped out into the cold night and walked down the path to the cabin. Kelly switched on a light and Andy whistled appreciatively.
“Mmmmm . . . nice! Cozy!”
“Cold, though. Hang your coat beside the door and I’ll stoke up the fire.”
“Let me do it,” he offered and set the firescreen aside. He knelt down in front of the fire to prod the glowing embers with a fire tool. “I can think of better ways to keep warm,” he grumbled.
“I just bet you can,” Kelly laughed. “How about a hot buttered rum? That should warm you up.”
“If that’s the best offer I’m going to get, I’ll take it.”
“You’re not nearly the wolf you pretend to be, Andy Mullins. If I said, come on, Andy, let’s go to bed, it would shock you to death.”
“Maybe, but I’d die happy.”
Kelly felt laughter bubble up in her. “Poor, deprived Andy. I bet you have all the Indian maidens on the reservation coming to your clinic with every excuse from hangnail to heartburn.” She set out mugs and put the kettle on to boil. “I’m sure I have a bottle of rum around here somewhere. There it is on the top shelf. Will you get it down, Andy?”
Andy came up behind her and reached for the bottle, his other hand resting on her shoulder. Kelly didn’t hear the door open, but she felt the cold draft. Looking under Andy’s arm, she saw Jonathan standing in the doorway. He stared at her in silence, then shut the door and took off his coat.
Andy’s hand squeezed Kelly’s shoulder in conspiratorial understanding. She knew she would have to say something.
“We’re having a hot rum, Jonathan. Would you like one?”
He strolled toward them, a tall, taut figure, maddeningly in control of himself. “I’ll have mine straight,” he said, getting out a glass.
“There’s whiskey, if you’d rather have it,” Kelly murmured.
“This will do fine.” He poured himself a drink, gulped it down, and poured another.
Kelly’s heart sank as she saw how much he was drinking. He swallowed it rapidly, his fingers tight around the water glass. She mixed the hot drink for herself and Andy, handed the glass to him with a forced smile, then went to stand beside the fire. Andy followed.
“I’d like to be here when you take that glider up,” Andy said. “Mike mentioned your plan to try her out next week.”
“It’ll depend on the weather,” Jonathan replied and the look he flashed at Kelly was as brief as lightning and just as searing. He stood beside the kitchen table, the rum bottle in one hand and the water glass in the other.
Andy made several more attempts to keep the conversation going which Jonathan answered as briefly as possible. Finally Andy set down his mug and went to get his coat.
“Thanks for the drink, Kelly. I’d better get back up to the lodge or Maggie and Bob will think I’ve deserted them.”
“I’m glad you came down, Andy. We’ll do it again, soon.” The smile stayed on her face, although her muscles were aching from the strain.
As soon as the door closed behind Andy, Jonathan set his glass down on the table with a crash. “So, were you going to take him to bed?”
“And if I was? What business is it of yours?”
“I’ll tell you what business it is of mine,” he shouted. His hands closed roughly on her shoulders and his dark eyes burned into hers. His fingers moved to her long bare throat. “You’re my wife, damn you! No man touches my wife, but me!”
He dragged her to him, his mouth bruising her lips, his arms hurting her. He seized her dark hair in his hand and pulled her head back, then kissed her hard and long, his lips forcing her own to part so his tongue could plunge and probe.
She fought him with all her strength. She would never respond to him in this mood. If only his lips would soften, if only he would show some tenderness. He flung her onto the couch and stood over her with clenched fists, his face contorted with fury.
“I could kill you, Kelly! I don’t want to hurt you!”
She looked up at him, white and trembling. “Please go.”
He nodded wearily, his eyes flashing with shame and self-contempt. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
In a few quick strides he had plucked his coat from the rack and disappeared into the cold, dark night.
T
HE MEN CARRIED
the glider out of the shed, unfolded the brightly colored wings, and snapped them in place. Kelly had looked forward to, yet dreaded, this day. It was midmorning. There were several hours of sunlight left in the clear, cloudless day. Clyde started and restarted the motor, while Tram buckled Jonathan into the folded canvas chair suspended from the aluminum frame.
Kelly stood beside Marty, silently watching Jonathan. An almost breathless feeling came over her, an urgency to beg him not to go up in the flimsy contraption. He didn’t look at her and when he put a crash helmet on over the ski mask he was wearing, he looked like an astronaut preparing for blastoff. The men gathered around him, as excited as small boys, giving advice, wishing him luck, telling him not to damage their toy.
“Are you going to wish him luck?” Marty asked. When Kelly shook her head, she added, “Well, I am!” She ducked under the wing and placed her hand on Jonathan’s arm to get his attention. “Good luck, Jonathan. Be careful. Don’t get to thinking you’re a bird up there and land in the trees.”
He lifted a mittened hand and waved. The sight sent new dread shooting through Kelly.
Then the roar of the snowmobile drowned out any other words. The chain link between the aircraft and the snowmobile tightened and the glider began to move. Mike would tow it out to the clearing, then pull it into the wind. When the plane was airborne, Jonathan would release the tow rope. He planned to circle the area several times, keeping the resort in sight.
In a matter of minutes the gilder and the snowmobile were out of sight. Kelly heard the roar of the engine as the machine picked up speed, then the orange, green, and yellow wings of the glider appeared like a giant butterfly above the trees. Jonathan was up there! The thought struck Kelly like a physical blow. She closed her eyes, not daring to look. When finally she opened them again, Jonathan and the giant wings looked like a large bird in the sky. He circled and passed over them and headed toward the mountains. Suddenly the small purr of the motor died and there was silence.
Everyone strained to hear the engine start again. “Start it, boy . . . start it,” Clyde mumbled aloud.
The silence was deafening. “What’s happening?” Kelly’s voice was so loud it shocked her. “What’s wrong?”
“The motor cut out on him, but he can ride on the current until he can get it started again,” Tram said calmly.
“But if he can’t get it started again . . . he’ll crash!” Her plaintive voice and anguished eyes begged Tram to tell her it wasn’t true.
“What do you care?” Marty said cruelly. “You wouldn’t even wish him luck.”
“Hush up!” Tram said sharply. Marty burst into tears and ran for the lodge.
Kelly scarcely knew when Marty left them. Her eyes were glued to the speck in the sky that was getting smaller and smaller. Mike roared away on the snowmobile, and as Kelly stood numbly, Clyde backed out the truck, paused long enough to pick up Tram, and drove away.
“What good is the truck?” Kelly shouted. “You can’t go cross-country!” She ran toward the cabin. “Don’t let him crash! Please don’t let him crash!”
Minutes later she was loading the sled with blankets, a first aid kit, whiskey, a battery light, and survival supplies. She had often seen her father aid stranded motorists or hunt for a lost tourist and she knew what to take. She was wearing her down-filled snowmobile suit. “Always take more warm clothing than you think you’ll need,” she remembered him saying. She grabbed her fur parka and two sleeping bags, and called to Charlie.
“Come on, boy. It’s up to you and me . . . or Mike. Those two greenhorns in the truck will never find him.” She talked softly to the dog, who stood patiently while she fitted his harness. “We’ll take your new frisbee along, Charlie. See, I’ll put it here on the sled where you can turn and see it. Let’s go, Charlie. Jonathan is somewhere out there and he could be hurt! Mush . . . mush!”
Charlie was delighted to be pulling the sled. He took off across the snow, past the kennel of yipping huskies, without giving them a glance. Kelly ran along behind, holding the handles. Once she’d been able to run several miles before hopping onto the sled runners, but after they passed the grove and were halfway across the clearing, she had to rest and let Charlie do the work. Keeping her eye on the spot on the horizon where she had last seen the glider, she kept Charlie moving, although she knew he was tiring. She strained for the sound of Mike’s snowmobile, but there was only silence.
Kelly was reasonably sure Jonathan would try to come down before he reached the mountains. She remembered hearing him say, “Lean forward and the glider goes down, lean back and it goes up. It’s the shifting of your weight that controls it.”
The wind picked up, stinging her face, and she pulled the ski mask down over her cheeks and nose. Gray clouds came rolling in from the north and the sky that had been clear a few hours ago was suddenly dull. Kelly pulled Charlie to a stop to allow him to rest and decided to put on the cross-country skis attached to the back of the sled. After that, the going was easier, but she looked at the sky with worried eyes and tried not to think about Jonathan lying in the wreckage of the glider. Doggedly she kept going, every step taking her farther and farther from the resort. Several times she blundered into a snowdrift. Often she was tempted to stop and rest. But soon the first intermittent snowflakes began to fall, and within fifteen minutes huge, fluffy flakes were falling fast. Worried that she wouldn’t be able to see the wreckage of the glider, Kelly began calling out a “Ha . . . looo,” a long high shrill sound that she knew carried on the brisk wind.
She looked at her watch and was surprised that she and Charlie had been traveling for almost two hours. It would be dark soon. She was frightened, so frightened she thought she would be sick, but she kept moving and calling. Once her voice cracked and she thought she couldn’t continue. Charlie howled.
A stabbing pain in her side forced her to stop for a moment. She thought she heard a faint sound, and lifted her cap from her ear to listen. Nothing. She let go with a long shrill “ha . . . looo,” and waited anxiously. The sound that floated back to her was indistinguishable, but definitely human!
“Mush, Charlie. Mush . . .” she shouted, directing him to the right. “Ha . . . looo, ha . . . looo,” she called into the near darkness. The answer became clearer, and she followed the sound, her heart beating a rapid tattoo of relief.
“Here . . . here . . .”
Charlie saw him first and barked his pleasure. Then Jonathan materialized out of the snowstorm, standing beside the glider, his helmet in his hand and his ski mask off. Snowflakes stuck to his dark beard. He grinned broadly at her and she threw herself into his arms, crying hysterically. The force of her weight knocked them both to the snow. Jonathan gave a surprised gasp:
“Kelly! For heaven’s sake. Kelly!”
It hadn’t occured to her that he wouldn’t know the person calling was her. Now he lifted her ski mask and held her close against him.
“You fool girl! Whatever possessed Mike to let you come out in this storm?”
“Mike had nothing to do with it, you idiot! Whatever possessed you to go up in that awful thing? You scared the hell out of me! I wish you’d broken your neck!”
Jonathan’s laugh rang out, and he nuzzled her warm face with his cold one. “No, you don’t! Shhh . . . Stop crying. . . . You were worried about me? You cared? You love me . . . that much?”
“I don’t even like you!” she shouted against his neck, but she was hoarse from calling out to him and the words came out in a croak.
Jonathan sat up and pulled her up with him “Are you all right?”
“I’m hoarse, you . . . flying turkey!”
“Do you think if I kiss it, it will make it well?” he asked huskily.
As they sat in the snow, the heavy flakes threatening to cover them both, Jonathan pulled her onto his lap and cuddled her close. Warm, firm lips found hers and he kissed her softly, tenderly, lovingly. She didn’t want to cry again, but she was so tired. They sat there for a long time, his arms tight around her, not speaking, merely needing the closeness and security of each other’s bodies.
“What do we do now, my little Sherpa of the mountains?” he whispered. “If we sit here much longer, we’ll be buried under the snow.”
Kelly moved out of his arms and looked about. She could barely make out the shape of the glider.
“How did you get down?”
“I found a smooth spot and came down. Worked great!”
“Great, my fanny! If it worked so great, why didn’t you bring it back home?” she said crossly.
“I tried, sweetheart. I really did, but the wind was all wrong.”
“Come on, Charlie. We could set a match to the silly thing, but Mike wouldn’t be able to see a house afire in this storm,” she grumbled.
“Kelly!”
“Just hush up, Jonathan! I’m so mad, I might just hit you! Fold up the wings on that thing and we’ll use it for shelter. It’s not good for anything else.”
She unpacked the sled and unharnessed Charlie. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring you anything to eat,” she told the dog.