Everything but the marriage (2 page)

He took a step back, thinking to leave her alone with her thoughts. But she was still too close to the edge of the river. Maybe she wasn't aware of it,

couldn't see how unstable the bank was from where she stood.

"Hey!" She responded sluggishly to his call, her head lifting slowly, as if it were too heavy for her neck to support. Her face was a pale oval in the growing darkness, her eyes smudgy shadows.

Her despair seemed to reach across the yards that separated them, grabbing him by the throat, choking off the words of warning he*d intended to offer. She looked like a ghost, her pale face and hair taking on an otherworldly gleam in the rainy darkness.

For the space of several heartbeats, they stared at each other. Devlin blinked, forcing aside the fanciful idea that she was a figment of his imagination. She was just another lost soul. And she was standing too close to the edge of the river.

He started to call out to her again, to tell her to move back from the water. But before he could say anything, she moved, lifting one hand—toward him?

Afterward Devlin could never be sure what happened next. Did the bank crumble under her feet? Did she start to move back and lose her footing? Or did she quite deliberately step off the bank? The only thing he was sure of was that she didn't cry out. She tumbled into the rushing water as silently as if she were indeed nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

Even as the water closed over her, Devlin was wrenching his shoes off, letting them fall to the wet grass. Taking two running steps forward, he jumped off the bank after her.

He hit the water feet first, feeling the icy shock of it penetrate his jeans instantly. The current promptly tumbled him headfirst into the river. He surfaced, gasping for air, his arms flailing to keep his head above water.

He let the current sweep him along, squinting ahead for some sign of the woman. There. Only a few yards away, he caught a glimpse of something pale. He swam toward her, using the force of the current to help him.

She went under an instant before he reached her. Devlin launched himself forward, plunging his hands under the water where he'd seen her disappear. His left hand tangled in something soft and flowing, whether it was her hair or her dress, he couldn't tell. As he locked his fingers around it, the water took him under with a malicious gurgle.

He surfaced, gulping in air. One-handed, he floundered toward the edge of the river. The water was probably no more than chest deep, but the river narrowed here and the current was swift, making it impossible for him to get his feet under him for more than an instant at a time.

He grabbed hold of a tree root that protruded from the bank, pulling himself and his burden to the water's edge. So far, he'd felt no movement from the woman. She'd neither struggled against him nor aided his efforts. He wondered briefly if he was dragging a body out of the water, but there was no time to worry about it. Alive or dead, he wasn't leaving her in the river.

By the time he'd manhandled her limp form up onto the riverbank, he wasn't sure he had the energy to accomplish the same for himself. The river tugged at him, trying to drag him back under as he pulled himself out of its deceptively soft embrace.

Devlin collapsed onto the wet grass next to the woman, feeling the rain beating down on his back. It was coming in torrents now, making him wonder if they weren't just as likely to be drowned here as they had been in the river.

If she wasn't drowned already. The thought sent a spurt of energy through his tired muscles. Getting to his knees, he bent over her, pressing his fingers to her throat, seeking a pulse. He couldn't feel anything but her chilled skin.

His face grim, he ripped open her blouse and laid his ear against her chest. For a moment, he thought all his struggles had been in vain—that he'd accomplished nothing more than pulling a corpse from the rushing water. Then, so faint he almost dismissed it as his imagination, he heard a heartbeat.

Lifting his head, he watched her chest rise as she drew in a breath. She coughed weakly and he turned her onto her side, rubbing her back as she coughed up the river water she'd swallowed. What were you supposed to do for someone who'd almost drowned?

Her skin felt like ice beneath his hands. The first thing to do was to get her warm. Devlin lifted his head, peering through the rainy darkness, trying to orient himself. There were no Ughts to be seen. The storm clouds were so thick that no moonlight shone through.

He didn't know how far downstream the river had swept them. He shivered as a gust of wind blew the rain almost horizontally. The one thing he did know was that they needed to get some shelter and warmth.

Devlin got to his feet, pulling the woman up with him. She was limp in his hold, apparently unconscious. He bent, putting his shoulder against her midriff. Grunting with effort, he stood upright with her slung over his shoulder.

Unless the current had swept them a great deal farther than he thought likely, the house was the nearest shelter to be found.

He put his head down and started walking.

One thing eight years in prison had taught him was endurance. And determination. He didn't think about how tired he was or how far he might have to walk. He didn't think about the stones that bruised his bare feet. And he never considered the possibility that his strength might give out.

He simply walked steadily forward, using the sound of the river as a guide to make sure he didn't wander too far off his path. He'd left a light on in the kitchen. Another hundred steps and he'd be able to see it. And if not, then he'd take a hundred more and a hundred beyond that, if necessary.

The woman was a dead weight on his shoulder. He could feel her arms swing limply against his back with each step he took. He could only assume that she was still breathing.

His legs were beginning to tremble with exhaustion. Devlin lifted his head, peering through the rain.

Was that a light, or was it his imagination that put it there? He took a few more steps but the light remained steady. The sight of it poured new strength into him.

Veering away from the river, he kept his eyes on the light, half afraid it might vanish as he drew closer. But it didn't vanish, and he could make out the sturdy outline of the house.

Pushing open the back door, Devlin stumbled inside. He leaned against the wall for a moment, savoring the feeling of being in and out of the rain and darkness. If he'd been alone, he would have let himself slide down the wall and collapse in a heap on the floor.

But he wasn't alone. Besides, now that he was inside, he could feel a bone-deep chill. They both needed to get warm.

Forcing his aching legs to move again, he carried his burden into the bathroom, the one room in the house that was completely finished. He bent, letting her shde off his shoulder, his hands guiding her to the floor. Stepping over her limp body, he turned the water on in the shower stall, testing it cautiously until he was sure he wasn't going to scald both of them.

Once the temperature was adjusted to his satisfaction, he turned his attention to his unknown guest. Kneeling beside her on the tile floor, he began stripping her clothes off. She was breathing but still unconscious. He didn't know if that was a bad sign or not, but he did know that she needed to get warm.

She was too thin, he noted absently. Her ribs were plainly visible along her side, and her hipbones were much too prominent. Her hair was long, pulled back by a rubber band that had survived her tumble into the river. Devlin snapped it, feeling the heavy wet strands spill over his hands.

Once he had her naked, he stood and stripped off his jeans and shirt. He hesitated over his briefs, wondering how she'd react if she regained consciousness to find herself locked in a shower stall with a naked man. On the other hand, the briefs were cold and wet and hardly enough to reassure a frightened woman. Shrugging, he stepped out of them, dropping them onto the floor with the rest of their clothing.

Bending, he picked the woman up. Elbowing open the shower door, he stepped beneath the warm spray with her in his arms. The water sluiced over them. Devlin lowered her feet to the floor, sliding one arm around her waist to support her against his body.

Under other circumstances, it could have been a highly erotic moment. A man and a woman naked in the shower together could hardly be anything else. Unless of course, both of them were chilled to the bone and one of them was unconscious.

Devlin kept them both under the water until he felt warm again. The woman had stirred once or twice, her features puckering as if she felt the pain of returning warmth. But she didn't wake up. Devlin had the odd feeling that she didn't particularly want to wake up.

He turned the water off and lifted her out of the shower stall, holding her braced against his hip while

he reached for a towel to wrap around her. Grabbing another towel for himself, he lifted her against his chest and carried her into the bedroom.

Since furniture hadn't been a major priority up until now, his bed was the only place he could put her. He set her on the mattress, easing the towel away before pulling the sheet and blanket up over her. Clumsily he wrapped the towel around her hair, thinking it would be better than letting it soak the pillow.

He toweled himself dry and pulled on fresh jeans and a sweatshirt before returning to stare down at his guest. Who was she? Had she fallen into the river or jumped? Remembering those seconds before she'd disappeared into the water, Devlin couldn't be sure which it had been. Was she going to thank him for saving her life or curse him?

Shrugging, he found a heavy sweatshirt and sat down next to her on the bed. Whether she liked it or not, she was aUve. And he had no intention of damn near getting himself killed fishing her out of the river only to see her catch pneumonia.

Easing her into a sitting position, he pulled the sweatshirt over her head, stuffing her arms into the sleeves, lifting her to pull the hem down over her hips. It was miles too big for her, in length as well as width, covering her past her thighs.

He noticed again how thin she was and wondered if she was making a fashion statement or simply hadn't been able to eat. No money?

He took the damp towel from her hair and wrapped the heavy length in a dry one. From the length of it, he

guessed it would fall past her waist, and he found himself wondering what color it would be when it dried.

When he stood up, he noticed the bloodstains he'd left on the floor everywhere he walked. He hadn't realized his feet were bleeding until he saw the smears of red. He remembered feeling stones biting into his feet on the walk home, although after the first ten yards, he'd stopped noticing the pain, concentrating all his thoughts on moving forward.

Now that he had a chance to think about it, his feet hurt like hell. Devlin went into the bathroom and examined the bottoms of his feet. For the most part the cuts were small, but there were quite a few of than. He put bandages on one or two larger cuts and thai pulled on a pair of heavy white socks.

Leaving the woman sleeping in his bed, he went out to the kitchen and put water on for coffee. While it heated, he used a towel to mop up the water he'd tracked through the house earlier. His feet had bled everywhere he walked, leaving stains on the floor. But since it was nothing but a plywood subfloor, Devlin wasn't concerned. Carpet and oak flooring would cover the marks eventually.

His guest still hadn't stirred by the time the coffee was ready. Devlin checked her pulse. It was steady, but did it seem a little too fast? Too shallow, maybe? She should probably see a doctor. For all he knew, there was something wrong with her besides being too thin and, what, judging by the smudgy shadows under her

eyes, he'd guessed was a pretty bad case of exhaustion.

He could put her in the car and take her into town, drop her off at the emergency room and wash his hands of her. But wouldn't she be terrified to wake up in a hospital, surrounded by strangers?

"Yeah, right, Russell. Like she knows you so well," he muttered aloud. Still, something in him resisted the idea of taking her to the hospital.

Before he could make a decision, the soft chimes of the doorbell broke into his thoughts. Giving his visitor a last glance, he left the bedroom. He was too far off the beaten track to get many unexpected visitors. His sister Kelly was the only person who might drop in on him, and she wasn't likely to have driven so far out in the middle of a storm.

Devlin pulled the door open, staring blankly at the man on the doorstep. His thoughts had been so caught up in the woman in his bedroom, it took him a second to shift his focus and realize who he was looking at.

*Ben.'

Ben's smile took on a quizzical edge. "Have I got the wrong night? I thought you asked me to come out tonight."

"Tonight." Devlin shook his head, his mouth twisting in a smile. "No, you don't have the wrong night. I'd forgotten. Come in."

"I could come back another time," Ben offered.

"No. This is fine. In fact, your timing is great."

Devlin took Ben's wet coat and hung it up on one of the nails that served as a coat hook until he could get around to putting a real coat closet in.

"Everyone tells me that," Ben commented, following Devlin into the kitchen. He nodded in answer to Devlin's offer of coffee. "Why is my timing particularly great this time?"

"I have a problem." Devlin handed him a cup of coffee. He'd forgotten all about asking Ben Masters to come see him. Dr. Ben Masters. He'd planned on discussing a donation to the clinic that was Ben's pet project, but the other man's arrival was too fortuitous to ignore.

"Problems are my medical specialty," Ben said.

"There's a woman in my bedroom."

Ben's brows rose. "We should all have such problems."

"Yeah, well this one really is a problem. I fished her out of the river earHer tonight. She scans okay, but she hasn't regained consciousness."

"Any sign of a head injury?" Ben asked, all traces of flippancy gone. He was suddenly the complete professional.