Reilly's Woman (4 page)

Her gaze tried to penetrate the black curtain of night for a glimpse of the man who had led her here. There was only the ghostly shimmer of white from the painted metal of the aircraft.

Thunder boomed. A flash of lightning followed before the rolling thunder stopped. Leah had promised to wait, but if Reilly Smith didn't return soon, she wasn't going to keep that promise.

An eerie pool of light was coming from the direction of the plane, floating along the ground through the desert scrub. It was several spine-chilling seconds before Leah realized it was coming from a flashlight. A sighing laugh slipped from her throat.

She could distinguish enough of the tall figure to see that he was carrying something over his shoulder. Grady? She waited, breathlessly, for the man to reach her.
 

Blinded by the light when it picked her out in the darkness, she shielded her eyes from the glare. The light moved away as the figure knelt beside her, swinging the burden from his shoulder. Leah stared at the bundle—a coat with its sleeves tied together to carry the loose objects inside.

"Where's Grady?" Her hazel eyes bored into the expressionless male face as she mentally braced herself for his answer.

"He's dead." Long fingers deftly untying the coat sleeves.

"No!" she whispered even as she accepted the truth of his statement. It wasn't something to lie about. She tried to swallow back the tremor in her voice. "You didn't leave him in the plane?"

"Yes." The rain bronzed his tanned features into a mask. The green eyes held no hint of grief in their jade depths when they swung toward her. "Let me see what I can do for your arm."

Absently Leah touched her wound, its throbbing vaguely uncomfortable. It seemed wrong to have left Grady in that gnarled mess of twisted metal. It was harder to adjust to the fact that he was dead, that warm, vital man.

"You'll have to hold the flashlight." When his words brought no response from Leah, Reilly frowned. Sooty lashes thickened by the rain narrowed his gaze. "Snap out of it!"

"W-What?" she blinked.

"I said you'll have to hold the flashlight so I can look at your arm," he repeated curtly.
 

Her hazel eyes had started to mist with tears. She hurriedly blinked them away as her fingers closed over the cold wet metal of the flashlight. She directed the beam at her injury. Beyond the radiating circle, she saw Reilly Smith remove his pocket knife and open the blades.

"I'm going to rip the sleeve the rest of the way." With the explanation given, the blade sliced through the material's seam. A quick rip and the sleeve was in his hand.

Using the remnants, he carefully wiped away the blood to see the extent of the cut. The jagged rip in her flesh wasn't a pleasant sight and Leah turned her gaze away. She could feel him probing the wound for any splinters of glass or metal. It throbbed with burning fire now.

He turned away, opening the metal lid of a large first aid kit he had placed at his side. He took out a bottle of antiseptic and closed the lid before the rain could damage any of the contents. Water droplets glistened like diamonds in his jet black hair.

"This is going to hurt," he warned.

Although prepared, Leah couldn't stop herself from emitting a choked gasp of pain as her arm jerked to avoid the fiery liquid.

"Hold still!"

"It hurts!" she snapped back, stating the obvious.

Reilly Smith ignored that. "And hold the light still so I can see what I'm doing."

Insensitive pig! Leah thought angrily. At least he could have said he was sorry but that he couldn't help hurting her.

Gritting her teeth, she focused the light again on her arm. This time she didn't cry out as he poured the antiseptic on the open wound, although the flashlight beam did waver slightly. Next came the bandage, which was expertly and efficiently accomplished.

"Thank you," Leah offered as some of the pain began to recede.

"You're welcome." A distant smile touched his mouth.

He took the flashlight and laid it on the ground, bathing their clearing with light. Unfolding the coat on the ground, he slipped a pistol into the waistband of his brown slacks and pulled his jacket over it to keep out the rain. A canteen and another small box were set aside along with a folded square of red material. He stood up, shaking out the coat.

"This will keep the rain off of you," he said, holding it out to Leah.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm already soaked." She hugged her arms tighter around her waist, feeling the biting chill of her damp clothes.

"I don't want the bandage getting wet." He draped a man's raincoat over her shoulders, drawing the collar around her neck. "At night, it's cold in the mountain desert—in the spring or any other time of year. It will give you some protection against the cold if not the rain."

What she wanted was some dry clothes, but logically Leah realized that they would soon get wet, too. Gingerly she slid her injured arm in a sleeve and carefully eased her other arm into the second sleeve and buttoned the coat.

"Whose is this?" she asked unthinkingly as the coat drowned her in its looseness.

"Grady's."

Leah paled. Suddenly the coat didn't feel the same. She started to unbutton it.

"You can wear it," she murmured tightly.

"No." His voice was firm as
his watchful eyes studied her face. "He isn't going to object, Miss Talbot."

Her temper flared at his apparently flippant remark. "How can you be so callous?"

"It's the truth—however hard it may sound," Reilly Smith replied calmly. Her anger flowed over him without denting his aloof composure. "There isn't anything more we can do for Grady. Our main concern now has to be ourselves. We'll have to use what's on hand to survive the night."

His cold logic defeated her anger. She began rebuttoning the coat. "You could build a fire to warm us up and dry us out," she declared, a seed of rebellion remaining.

"It's raining," he reminded her dryly.

"Well," impatiently she pushed the wet brown hair away from her forehead, "you are part Indian. Surely it shouldn't be too difficult for you."

An eyebrow lifted in a measuring look. Her teeth nibbled self-consciously on her lower lip. That had sounded very prejudiced and she hadn't meant it at all that way. His composure had got under her skin and made her thoughtless in her reply.

He reached down and picked up the folded red square. "A fire could be built," there was a hint of cynical amusement in his voice, "after I'd found some dry wood and started the kindling in the rain. Maybe after a couple of hours, I would have a fire blazing—if the two of us hadn't succumbed to exposure and shock, we might enjoy it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think." Leah lowered her gaze to the ground. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We can't sit out here in the rain. Wouldn't we be better off in the plane?"

"The metal of the plane would act like a lightning rod. It's too dangerous." The square of red was shaken out, rustling stiffly in protest. The opposite side of the material resembled aluminium. Its silvery finish glistened in the flashlight beam. "Besides, higher up the mountain there are some loose tailings from an abandoned mine. The rain might bring it down and block the door by morning. Out here, we might get wet and cold—it wouldn't be any warmer in the plane—but we wouldn't be trapped inside the mangled wreckage."

Again, Leah had to submit to the wisdom of his reasoning. But she was wet and cold, and getting colder. Her teeth had started to chatter and her arm was beginning to stiffen and feel sore.

"What are we going to do?" Her gaze wearily moved to him. Since all her thoughts seemed to have been wrong, it was time he suggested something.
 

"Stand up."

His hand was at her elbow, lifting her upright. Leah stood, waiting uncertainly for his next move. The thin, blanket-size sheet was partially wrapped around her, rising above her head in a stiff half-hood.

"Hold the side," Reilly instructed, pushing an edge of the material into her fingers. He hesitated, drawing her curious gaze. "What we're going to do is wrap ourselves together in this blanket, using our body heat to keep us warm and the blanket to keep out as much of the rain as possible."

"You're saying we should sleep together." Leah repeated the essence of his words. She was shivering and trying to keep her teeth from chattering too loudly. "It's the logical and practical thing to do, isn't it?" she added wryly.

"Yes," he nodded with a faint smile on his wet face.

She was too cold and wet and miserable to care that her straitlaced parents would be horrified to learn their daughter was sleeping under the same blanket with a virtual stranger.

"By all means, let's do it," she agreed, weakly returning his smile.

An arm slid around the bulky folds of the raincoat at her waist as he drew the stiff blanket behind and around him. At his signal, they eased themselves to the ground in unison.

Reilly lay on his back, drawing Leah's head and shoulders on his chest and curving the rest of her against his length. Pellets of rain struck at the blanket, hammering to get in, but the waterproof material kept them dry.

At first she was conscious only of the cold wetness of his hard form, then gradually she felt his body warmth steaming through his soaked clothes and she snuggled closer, shivering uncontrollably. His hands began rubbing her back, shoulders and waist, stimulating her circulation while taking care to avoid her injured arm that throbbed dully now.

"Is that better?" Warm breath stirred the air near her forehead.

"Much better." She inhaled deeply in contentment. The musky scent of his maleness was heightened by the rain.

His hands maintained their slow, steady rhythm. A small fire was glowing inside her. She was beginning to feel human again. Her mind stopped dwelling on her physical discomfort and started to wander on to other subjects.

"A search party will start looking for us tomorrow, won't they?" she said quietly.

"Yes."

"How long do you think it will take them to find us?"

"It's hard to say," For a minute Leah thought that was the only reply Reilly was going to make, then he enlarged upon his answer. "There wasn't time for a mayday call to give our location. Grady had his hands full trying to keep from nosing into the side of the
 

mountain. If he filed a flight plan, he flew off-course trying to avoid the center of the storm. A search would initially cover the planned route, then widen its area if the plane wasn't found."

"Then it could be late tomorrow before they find us?"

A moment of slight hesitation followed her question.

"There's a lot of rugged terrain a party would have to cover. It could be Sunday—or Monday."

Leah shuddered, this time not from the cold. "I'm glad I didn't let Lonnie know I was coming. He won't be worrying about me for a while anyway, wondering if I'm dead or alive."

The authorities would first notify her parents. They, in turn, would contact her brother. With luck, by then she would be rescued.

"You were planning to surprise him?"

Leah nodded, her cheek moving against the damp denim of his jacket. "For his birthday. It's tomorrow," she sighed, then pulled her mind away from its depressing path. "You were expected, weren't you?"

"Yes, by some business friends."

"Who do you work for?" She tipped her head back against his shoulder, peering through the darkness of their cocoon for a glimpse of his face. The suggestion of intimacy at being in his arms seemed to banish the need for diplomatically worded questions. Her curiosity surfaced without disguise. "An arch rival of the mining firm that employs my brother?"

"I work for myself," he replied.

"You own a mining company?"

"No." There was amused patience in his low voice. "I design jewelry."

As Leah digested the information, she remembered the nugget of turquoise he wore around his neck. "Turquoise jewelry?"

"Or Indian jewelry, whichever you prefer to call it." The mockery was unmistakable in his tone.

Leah stiffened defensively. "I didn't mean my comment to sound derogatory earlier. I was cold and wet and thought a fire would be the logical remedy. I simply didn't know how to build one—not from scratch." She hesitated, irritated that he had even indirectly referred to her thoughtlessly cutting remark earlier. "Grady had mentioned that you were part Indian. I only referred to it because I thought you would have the experience at building fires which I didn't have."

"You didn't need to explain. I'd already guessed that," Reilly Smith returned complacently.

Sputtering inwardly, Leah longed to demand why he had let her make the apology if, as he said, he had already guessed. It was pointless to begin an argument about it, though, since initially the fault had been hers.

"Then why were you flying to Austin?" Leah swallowed her irritation and switched to a less personal topic.

"There are turquoise mines in the vicinity that I periodically visit," he said with a thread of indulgence. "I deal directly with them, purchasing the stones I want to use for mounting."