Paradise Falls (26 page)

The words had no sooner escaped his lips than he spied something through the haze of snow. Something bright yellow, fluttering from a branch. He was out of the wagon and racing through the snow. As he snatched it up, he gave a muttered oath before tucking it inside his coat. There was no denying that it was Fiona’s.

He’d never been much of a believer, but the words of a childhood prayer played through his mind as he headed into the storm.

Be with me in the hour of my need.

* * *

“Oh, Da.” Fiona’s teeth were chattering so hard she could barely get the words out, but it seemed important that she address her last words to her beloved father. She was certain the end was near. She’d walked as far as she could manage. The weight of her frozen clothes, and the fact that she could no longer feel any part of her body, made her realize that she’d done all she could. For the past half hour she’d been thinking about Broderick Haydn’s sister, Gerda, who had frozen in her own barn, just steps away from the comfort of her own home. What had he once said to her? He’d compared the weather to a woman.

A word of warning, Miss Downey. When she seems the most beautiful, when you think she could never be lovelier, that’s when you must be wary. For she can turn on you and take everything, even your life.

“Oh, Da. I’m so cold. And so tired. I didn’t expect to join you and Mum so soon. But if it’s to be, then I’m ready. Just don’t leave me all alone out here.” She huddled in a snowdrift and tucked her face low, to avoid another gust of icy, stinging wind. “Stay with me, Da. Especially now. I won’t be nearly so afraid as long as know you’re here beside me. I’m so weary.” She braced against another shuddering wind and burrowed deeper into the snow. “So very, very weary.”

Somewhere nearby she heard, above the wind, a sound that froze her blood and had her heart pounding. Had that been the howl of a wolf? She’d heard the stories of wolf packs that roamed these forests. Though they never ventured close to man, they’d been known to snatch the occasional newborn calf and drag it off to the woods to feast.

She lifted her hem and strained to hear, but everything was drowned out by the never-ending shriek of the wind. Just as she started to relax she heard it again. Closer now.

She couldn’t stay here. She had to move—to flee. If wolves should think her helpless, they would attack.

It was one thing to close her eyes and go to sleep, knowing she would never wake. It was another to sit idly by while wild creatures stalked.

Clamping down on the pain and weariness, she got to her feet and took several plodding steps through the drifts that were nearly waist-high. From close behind her she heard the howl. Turning to face her attacker, she saw the darkened outline of the animal as it lunged. She fell backward into the snow, with the creature on top of her. She flung her hands up to protect her face, but it was too late. A warm, wet tongue lapped at her cheek.

Tongue?

“Chester. Oh, Chester.” Laughing and crying, she wrapped her arms around the big dog’s neck and held on as her face was licked again and again.

“Fiona. Thank God.”

Hearing Gray’s voice, she looked up to see him looming over her like some ghostly specter. His dark hair was frosted with snow, as were his clothes.

“Gray. I thought...” Her mouth was too frozen to get the words out.

“I know. I know.” He reached down and lifted her in his arms, while the hound leaped and danced around them.

In quick strides he waded through the snow and carried her to his wagon. Wrapping her in a thick blanket, he kept hold of her as he flicked the reins.

Chester leapt up beside them and burrowed close.

While the team strained against the drifts, Gray kept his arms firmly around her, as much for himself as for her. He needed, desperately, to assure himself that she was indeed safe.

He’d been so afraid. It was, he realized, the first time in his life that he’d ever experienced such a knot of gut-wrenching fear. A fear so deep, so primal, he’d been driven into the storm like some sort of madman.

“How did you know I was out here?”

He looked down at her face, so pale and frozen. So beautiful. “Your scarf. It was caught on the branch of a tree. I realized that you must have got caught in the thick of the storm and turned in the wrong direction. From the location I found it, I could see that you were headed not toward home, but toward the forest. So I told Chester to find you.”

She leaned over to hug the dog. “My hero.”

He rewarded her with another swipe of his big tongue. She snuggled against Gray’s chest. “If it hadn’t been for you—”

“Shhh. You’re safe now.”

Safe.

Fiona’s eyes closed and the word played through her mind.
Safe.
She’d been prepared to die, but because of this man, she was now safe.

She leaned into his warmth and allowed herself to drift on a cloud of utter, complete relief.

* * *

With every obstacle, every snowdrift, Gray cursed the delay that was keeping them on the trail. All he wanted was to get Fiona out of this storm and somewhere warm and safe. When at last they reached his barn he lifted Fiona into his arms. With Chester at his heels, he strode through the drifts and shoved open the backdoor of his house.

He didn’t stop until he reached the parlor, where coals still gleamed on the grate. Setting her gently down on the sofa he said, “You have to get out of those wet clothes.” He tossed a log and stirred the coals until flames leaped and danced. When he turned back to her she was still bundled in the blanket, her teeth chattering, her body trembling.

“I’ll help.” He unwrapped the blanket and caught the hem of her gown, none-too-gently peeling it up and over her arms and head. That done he tugged aside her petticoats and reached for the ribbons of her chemise.

“I can do this.” Though she was still shaking violently, she managed to remove her most intimate garments before folding the edges of the blanket around her for modesty.

He picked up the pile of sodden clothing and turned away.

“Where are you going?”

Hearing the note of alarm in her voice, he paused. “I’ll just hang these to dry and put the kettle on. You need something hot.”

“Yes. Of course.” She closed her eyes and lay, absorbing the warmth of the blanket and the heat from the fireplace. She’d thought she would never again be warm. And now here she was, snug and safe and warm.

Because of Gray.

If he hadn’t come looking for her, she would have surely frozen to death. Most men would have returned to the warmth and comfort of their home, without giving her another thought, but not Gray. He had gone the extra distance, to make certain she was safe.

He returned and noted idly that she hadn’t stirred. He sat on the edge of the sofa and held a glass of amber liquid to her lips.

Her eyes fluttered open. “What’s this?”

“Whiskey. It’ll warm you.”

She took a sip and felt the warmth of it burn a path through her veins. “Thank you, Gray.”

“More. Drink.”

She took another long swallow before pushing aside his hand. The trickle of warmth was now a fire low in her belly. She waited a moment, until she was able to catch her breath. “Do you know what I was thinking, when I was out in the storm?”

He shook his head, watching her eyes.

“I was thinking about your Aunt Gerda, and the fact that she froze in her own barn. And I thought...” She shuddered. “I was resigned to the fact that I would never see another day.”

“Don’t even think such a thing.” He set aside the glass and caught her hands in his, wanting to share his warmth, his strength, with her. “You’re too good, too fine, to leave this world yet.” His voice lowered with feeling. “I couldn’t bear it if you did.”

Her eyes went wide, staring at him as though seeing him for the first time.

When she could find her voice she whispered, “Do you mean that, Gray?”

He nodded and scrambled to his feet before turning away.

“Where are you going now?”

“To the barn,” he called over his shoulder. “I have to unhitch the team and turn them into their stalls.”

She listened to the sound of his footsteps as he crossed to the kitchen. Minutes later she heard the backdoor slam.

In the silence that followed, she drifted on a warm cloud of contentment.

* * *

Coward.
While he worked unhitching the team, the word played through Gray’s mind. He’d used this as a way to avoid doing what he really wanted.

What he wanted, he thought as he led the horses to their stalls, was to just gather Fiona close and hold her. The way he’d held her on the long, cold journey home. It had been the sweetest of tortures to hold her close to his heart, warming her body with his, and knowing that he would soon have to let her go.

It ought to be enough to know that he’d saved her, but knowing that she was still grieving the loss of Flem ate at his mind, causing him more pain than he would have thought possible.

It wasn’t her fault. Flem had always been able to charm women. And he... he wiped his hands down his pants and hung the harness before turning away. He was a plain man. Ma had been right about that. Plain and dull and too cowardly to ever risk telling someone as fine and beautiful as Fiona Downey what he really felt. He couldn’t bear the thought that she might find his feelings for her laughable. Oh, she was too good to say so. She would be kind, and considerate of him, but her rejection would be no less unbearable. He would die before he would open himself up to that kind of humiliation.

He leaned against the barn door until he managed to get it closed. Then, with his hand on the guide rope he’d strung from house to barn, he began inching his way back toward the porch of his farmhouse.

His, he thought with fierce pride. Even if Fiona Downey couldn’t be, at least this was his.

F
iona awoke to the sound of a crackling fire and lay very still, wondering where she was. Then it all came rushing back. The horror of the blizzard. The belief that she was about to die. Her miraculous rescue.

She was safe in Gray’s house. Warm and snug and rested.

She shifted and saw Gray asleep in a big, overstuffed chair. He was shirtless; his head back, eyes closed. His bare feet stretched out toward the warmth of the fire.

When she stirred, Chester, asleep in front of the fire, lifted his head for a moment and looked at her, before laying his head on his paws and closing his eyes.

She sat up, keeping the blanket around her. That simple movement had Gray alert and on his feet. “What do you need? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Gray. I don’t need anything. I just feel so grateful to be alive.” She shook her head, at a loss for words. “I can’t believe I’m really safe. And all because of you.”

His voice was gruff. “I didn’t do anything special.”

“Only saved my life.” She walked over to lay a hand on his arm before brushing a kiss over his cheek. “I’ll never forget that”

He stood, obviously ill at ease, staring at her in that strange, intense way he had. “I made supper while you slept. I’ll get you some.”

“No.” She kept her hand on his arm. “I don’t want anything just now.” She glanced toward the stairs. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

The heat from her touch seemed to rush straight to his loins. A pulse was already throbbing in his temple. “I didn’t want to leave you alone down here. I figured you might wake through the night and be afraid.” It was honest, as far as it went. He didn’t bother to add that it had been such a pleasure to watch her while she slept. Before giving in to the need to sleep, he’d allowed himself to indulge in some grand fantasies.

She heard the howling of the wind outside and shivered. “Is it still snowing?”

“Last I looked, it was over the windows.” It could pile higher than the roof, for all he cared, as long as he knew she was safe. And as long as she would continue standing this close, touching him just so. It was the most purely sensual pleasure he could ever recall.

“Have you ever seen a storm like this?”

“Not in my lifetime. But I’ve heard of them.” His tone deepened. “It’ll be days before we can dig out.”

“Days.” She spoke the word softly, as though mulling the implications.

He looked down at her hand, then away, struggling to engage his brain, which seemed to have deserted him. “I should... go out to the barn.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“I need to...”
Kiss you
, he thought wildly.
Take you in my arms and kiss you breathless.
It was the fact that his mind was still muddled from sleep. He needed air to clear his head. “I should... check on the livestock.”

“I see.” She lowered her head and felt him turn away.

In the doorway he paused without looking at her. “I’m sorry about Flem. I know how much you still miss him.”

“Flem?” For a moment she seemed puzzled. He wasn’t making any sense at all, but he had already walked into the kitchen.

Gathering the blanket close, she started to turn toward the fire. Then, without giving herself time to think things through, she started after him.

He was standing by the backdoor, slipping his arms into the sleeves of a warm shirt. He looked up when she crossed to him.

“Why would I miss Flem?”

“Because he... and you...” He stopped, one sleeve dangling, unable to say the words.

She sucked in a breath as truth dawned. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s what he said.”

“When?”

His tone hardened. “When I saw him coming out of your room the night before he left.”

“Oh, Gray. If only you’d asked me.” She huffed out a little breath and took a moment to choose her words carefully. “I’ve tried so hard not to think about that horrible scene.”

Gray’s eyes narrowed.

“Flem came to my room unbidden, and he left only because I threatened to go to your father if he ever did so again.”

“Did he manage to... hurt you?” Gray felt a moment of hot, blinding fury.

“No.” She was quick to reassure him. “I made Flem understand that he was repugnant to me, and that I would never again permit him to come near me.”