Shadows of Yesterday
Page 49
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Her shoulders slumped in anxiety. Where was her ride to the hospital? Stewart had assured her—
“Looking for me?”
Her heart slammed into her ribs. She spun around, whirling the fur coat around her like a matador’s cape. He was leaning against the building in the shadows. Had she not known him, not loved him, she would have been terrified of him.
His clothes were filthy. One leg of his jeans had been split to his thigh to allow for the plaster cast on his foot and calf. The other foot was shod in a cowboy boot caked with mud and splattered with oil. His denim jacket hung open to reveal a shirt unbuttoned indecently low. A bandanna had been rakishly tied around his forehead. Propped against the wall beside him was a crutch.
She dropped her bag onto the wet sidewalk, took two stumbling steps, then hurled herself into his waiting arms. “Oh, my God, Chad, darling, are you… Sweetheart… Are you all right? You’re hurt… are you hurt?”
“Slow down, slow down. Yes, I’m all right and no, I’m not hurt except for a busted tibia.”
“Thank God,” she breathed. “I thought—” She touched him, skimming her hands over every inch of him as though to convince herself that he was alive and well except for a broken leg. When she was satisfied that he wasn’t injured any more than the obvious, she lifted her eyes to his. They stared at each other for a long moment, each asking forgiveness and obtaining it.
He covered her hands where they lay against his chest. “God, I’m glad you’re here.”
She stood on tiptoes and placed her mouth over his. His arms closed around her hard and strong and drew her against him in a crushing embrace.
“My darling, my love,” he spoke into her mouth before his lips meshed with hers. It was a searing, hungry kiss, in which she felt an aching, throbbing need that matched her own. It was a kiss that pledged anew their vows to love each other for better or for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health.
“Chad,” she said on a gasping breath when at last he let her pull her mouth free, “we were so worried. We saw a news report and it was terrifying. Then we got a call from a government official in Venezuela that you’d been hurt, but that’s all we knew. He could barely speak English.” She paused to suck in air. “I’ve been staying with your parents since you—Anyway, they didn’t want me to come, but I had to see you. I had to know how you were, to be with you. Snow was everywhere and I had to”
“I know all about it.”
His simple statement arrested her verbal acrobatics. Until now, she hadn’t stopped to consider how he had known to meet her. “You kno”
“I called home about two hours ago. Dad told me how you took them all on, fighting hell and high water—or snow as it were—to come to me.”
She flushed in embarrassment. “You may have lost a very good pilot. I’m sure he’ll resign after the scene I caused at his house. He didn’t want to bring me, and I—”
“Dad recited your monologue word for word. Gil will never live it down that he let a five foot five blue-eyed brunette intimidate him.” He chuckled and she gloried in the sound of his deep laugh. How she’d missed it!
She touched the locks of his hair that straggled over the bandanna. “What happened?”
He settled his arms around her waist. “Nothing dramatic. This is a damn thick coat,” he digressed on a grumble. “I was a good way off when that tank blew. Instinctively, like everyone else, I dived for cover. I landed in a ditch the wrong way and snapped my leg.”
“The others who were injured?”
“Are still in the hospital.”
“Chad, of course,” she cried, pushing away from him. For the first time, now that the initial impact of finding him alive had been absorbed, she realized that he had been injured. “What’s the matter with me? You shouldn’t be here. You should have stayed in the hospital, too.”
“That’s what the chief nurse kept telling me. She tried to give me pills, which I refused, a sponge bath, which I refused, and I certainly refused to undress. I’ve never seen a woman so bent on getting a man out of his pants.”
“Just what type was this nurse?” Leigh asked, her eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “The cute, crisp, and vivacious type?”
“No, the ugly, crisp, and militant type,” he said, hobbling on his one good foot until he had secured the crutch under his opposite arm. “Come on,” he said, easily maneuvering himself toward the parked El Dorado despite his injury. “Sorry, but you’ll have to carry your own bag and you’ll have to give me a rain check on carrying you over the threshold.”
Rapid questions were interspersed with her labored breathing as she trotted along behind him, her bag hoisted over her shoulder by its strap. “Where are we going? Did you drive here by yourself? Can you drive? Whom does this belong to? What are we going to do?”
“In order: to the nearest hotel, yes, yes, a Flameco employee who happens to owe me a favor, and that’s a stupid question.”
“But your leg,” she objected, sliding into the front seat. “It probably needs treatment.”
“You’re the best medicine I can think of for whatever ails me.” He stashed his crutch on the back seat, started the motor, and then leaned across the seat to kiss her soundly. His eyes beamed into hers. “I’m entitled to one wedding night, and even if this isn’t Cancun, prepare yourself for a honeymoon.”
* * *
“I was so frightened,” Leigh confessed.
They were lying on the plush bed in the bridal suite of the Warwick Hotel. Leigh would gladly have settled for more modest accommodations, but Chad had insisted that they honeymoon in style. The staff at the check-in desk would have something to talk about for years, Leigh supposed. Expecting a couple fresh from their wedding, their surprise had known no bounds when the Dillons had arrived with suspiciously little luggage. The groom looked like the survivor of a motorcycle gang war, the bride was dressed in jeans, turtleneck sweater, and lynx coat. But Leigh was confident the austere staff had never seen a happier wedding couple than Mr. and Mrs. Chad Dillon.
“But you dropped everything, didn’t let anything or anyone keep you from coming to me,” Chad said now. “When I talked to Dad and he told me you were flying in tonight, I couldn’t believe it. And yet I could. I’ve told you from the first that you were the bravest woman I’d ever met.”
“Looking for me?”
Her heart slammed into her ribs. She spun around, whirling the fur coat around her like a matador’s cape. He was leaning against the building in the shadows. Had she not known him, not loved him, she would have been terrified of him.
His clothes were filthy. One leg of his jeans had been split to his thigh to allow for the plaster cast on his foot and calf. The other foot was shod in a cowboy boot caked with mud and splattered with oil. His denim jacket hung open to reveal a shirt unbuttoned indecently low. A bandanna had been rakishly tied around his forehead. Propped against the wall beside him was a crutch.
She dropped her bag onto the wet sidewalk, took two stumbling steps, then hurled herself into his waiting arms. “Oh, my God, Chad, darling, are you… Sweetheart… Are you all right? You’re hurt… are you hurt?”
“Slow down, slow down. Yes, I’m all right and no, I’m not hurt except for a busted tibia.”
“Thank God,” she breathed. “I thought—” She touched him, skimming her hands over every inch of him as though to convince herself that he was alive and well except for a broken leg. When she was satisfied that he wasn’t injured any more than the obvious, she lifted her eyes to his. They stared at each other for a long moment, each asking forgiveness and obtaining it.
He covered her hands where they lay against his chest. “God, I’m glad you’re here.”
She stood on tiptoes and placed her mouth over his. His arms closed around her hard and strong and drew her against him in a crushing embrace.
“My darling, my love,” he spoke into her mouth before his lips meshed with hers. It was a searing, hungry kiss, in which she felt an aching, throbbing need that matched her own. It was a kiss that pledged anew their vows to love each other for better or for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health.
“Chad,” she said on a gasping breath when at last he let her pull her mouth free, “we were so worried. We saw a news report and it was terrifying. Then we got a call from a government official in Venezuela that you’d been hurt, but that’s all we knew. He could barely speak English.” She paused to suck in air. “I’ve been staying with your parents since you—Anyway, they didn’t want me to come, but I had to see you. I had to know how you were, to be with you. Snow was everywhere and I had to”
“I know all about it.”
His simple statement arrested her verbal acrobatics. Until now, she hadn’t stopped to consider how he had known to meet her. “You kno”
“I called home about two hours ago. Dad told me how you took them all on, fighting hell and high water—or snow as it were—to come to me.”
She flushed in embarrassment. “You may have lost a very good pilot. I’m sure he’ll resign after the scene I caused at his house. He didn’t want to bring me, and I—”
“Dad recited your monologue word for word. Gil will never live it down that he let a five foot five blue-eyed brunette intimidate him.” He chuckled and she gloried in the sound of his deep laugh. How she’d missed it!
She touched the locks of his hair that straggled over the bandanna. “What happened?”
He settled his arms around her waist. “Nothing dramatic. This is a damn thick coat,” he digressed on a grumble. “I was a good way off when that tank blew. Instinctively, like everyone else, I dived for cover. I landed in a ditch the wrong way and snapped my leg.”
“The others who were injured?”
“Are still in the hospital.”
“Chad, of course,” she cried, pushing away from him. For the first time, now that the initial impact of finding him alive had been absorbed, she realized that he had been injured. “What’s the matter with me? You shouldn’t be here. You should have stayed in the hospital, too.”
“That’s what the chief nurse kept telling me. She tried to give me pills, which I refused, a sponge bath, which I refused, and I certainly refused to undress. I’ve never seen a woman so bent on getting a man out of his pants.”
“Just what type was this nurse?” Leigh asked, her eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “The cute, crisp, and vivacious type?”
“No, the ugly, crisp, and militant type,” he said, hobbling on his one good foot until he had secured the crutch under his opposite arm. “Come on,” he said, easily maneuvering himself toward the parked El Dorado despite his injury. “Sorry, but you’ll have to carry your own bag and you’ll have to give me a rain check on carrying you over the threshold.”
Rapid questions were interspersed with her labored breathing as she trotted along behind him, her bag hoisted over her shoulder by its strap. “Where are we going? Did you drive here by yourself? Can you drive? Whom does this belong to? What are we going to do?”
“In order: to the nearest hotel, yes, yes, a Flameco employee who happens to owe me a favor, and that’s a stupid question.”
“But your leg,” she objected, sliding into the front seat. “It probably needs treatment.”
“You’re the best medicine I can think of for whatever ails me.” He stashed his crutch on the back seat, started the motor, and then leaned across the seat to kiss her soundly. His eyes beamed into hers. “I’m entitled to one wedding night, and even if this isn’t Cancun, prepare yourself for a honeymoon.”
* * *
“I was so frightened,” Leigh confessed.
They were lying on the plush bed in the bridal suite of the Warwick Hotel. Leigh would gladly have settled for more modest accommodations, but Chad had insisted that they honeymoon in style. The staff at the check-in desk would have something to talk about for years, Leigh supposed. Expecting a couple fresh from their wedding, their surprise had known no bounds when the Dillons had arrived with suspiciously little luggage. The groom looked like the survivor of a motorcycle gang war, the bride was dressed in jeans, turtleneck sweater, and lynx coat. But Leigh was confident the austere staff had never seen a happier wedding couple than Mr. and Mrs. Chad Dillon.
“But you dropped everything, didn’t let anything or anyone keep you from coming to me,” Chad said now. “When I talked to Dad and he told me you were flying in tonight, I couldn’t believe it. And yet I could. I’ve told you from the first that you were the bravest woman I’d ever met.”
