Snowbound Heart (13 page)

“You are right,” Clare said. “The only trouble is, I’m greedy. I want it all.”

Beverly gave her an obliging smile, and they moved on to other things, though Clare, looting around her from time to time, knew her friend was right. She did miss having a home and someone to care for, missed that sense of belonging, missed having someone to share triumphs and disappointments and fears, and the comedy of small everyday events. The latter was one of the few things that she had found enjoyable about the past few days with Logan. More than once their glances had caught in a silent appreciation of the comical aspects of their situation.

It was as Clare was leaving that Beverly, a reluctant and troubled look on her face, asked a final question.

“Clare? Has it occurred to you that Logan might actually be attracted to you?”

“Bev! How can you suggest such a thing after all your warnings against it?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that if he isn’t, he is an extremely good actor.”

“That’s exactly what he is,” Clare replied, smiling wryly to cover the sudden ache in the region of her heart.

It was midaftemoon when Clare arrived back at the lodge. The place was quiet, nearly deserted except for a lone swimmer, a woman in a black satin-jersey maillot with her short hair lying like pointed petals on her forehead as she swam with slow grace up and down the length of the pool. The other guests were on the slopes, no doubt, taking advantage of the fine weather.

Clare, skirting the pool on her way to the elevator, smiled and spoke a word of greeting as Janine lifted her hand in a brief wave. She thought Janine made a gesture, inviting her to join her in the water, but she pretended she did not see. After the night before, she was not anxious for a tete-a-tete with the other woman.

At the fourth-floor landing, while she hunted for her room key in her bag, she glanced over the balcony railing. Janine had left the pool. Standing slim and straight beside it, she patted herself dry with a scarlet bath sheet, then reached to pick up a black jersey wrap splashed with scarlet flowers. With quick movements she shrugged into it and tied the belt tightly at the waist. Stepping into a pair of sandals, she shook back her hair and turned toward the elevator, Clare, with the tightness of nerves in her chest, turned away, letting herself into her room.

She put down her tote bag and began to take off her coat. She was just putting it away in the closet when a knock came on the door. Clare went still; then, squaring her shoulders, she moved to answer it

“Hello, Clare,” Janine said. “May I come in? I would like to talk to you.”

Clare stepped back, then indicated a chair with a wave of her hand as she closed the door. In an effort to postpone the inevitable moment, she said, “I didn’t expect to see you inside on a day like this.”

“I stayed out several hours this morning. I let Marvin and Logan go without me after lunch because I have an appointment to have my hair done, and because I wanted a few words with you.”

“Oh?” The woman was not going to be distracted. Assuming an expression she hoped contained no more than polite interest, Clare sat down on the end of the bed and prepared to listen.

Janine Hobbs leaned back, a cool smile on her red lips as she surveyed Clare. “I heard you and Logan last night, you know. A most interesting and enlightening conversation.”

“Last night?” Clare asked, knitting her brows in a troubled frown. “I don’t think I understand?”

“I believe you do. You spoke of a masquerade, of playing a role. I think, my dear Clare, that you are no more Logan’s fiance than I am.”

A cold feeling moved over Clare. For a fierce instant she wished Logan was there. He would know how to handle this situation. But then, so did she. If she was not going to admit to this woman that she was right, she must convince her that she was wrong.

Summoning a laugh, Clare said, “You must be joking.”

“I assure you I am not. Up until last night, I was at a loss to explain you. Oh, I know Logan said there was someone else, but I had the feeling that he was clutching at straws, trying to find some pretext to keep from becoming too seriously involved with me. Logan has a strong sense of honor; it’s amazing, really, after all his years on the Coast. He never put it into so many words, but I believe he was actually reluctant to break up my marriage, to take the wife of a man who had been such a close associate, his producer. The pain of telling me so blatant a lie about there being another woman, of forcing himself to give me up, was what brought him here to the mountains. He should have known I would follow him.”

“I haven’t the most remote idea what you are talking about,” Clare said, distaste for the woman’s twisted version of the story Logan had told her making her voice hard.

“The evidence is overwhelming against you, Clare. I don’t know why I was taken in for a moment, except that I was hurt that Logan could leave me like that, with such an appearance of carelessness. I didn’t know to what desperate lengths he was willing to go to protect himself from his feelings for me.”

“I dislike to cause you any more pain and embarrassment,” Clare said, “but I think it would be best if you could bring yourself to accept the truth of my engagement to Logan.”

“Without a shred of proof? What kind of a fool do you mink I am? No, I will tell you why you are lying. First of all, you have no ring. Logan would never have left such an important detail until some vague future date.”

“I told you the reason for that. The proposal was not something he planned; it just happened. You could hardly expect him to go dashing out into a blizzard for such a thing. I would not have let him.”

As if she had not heard, Janine went on. “No one has ever heard of you, ever seen you with Logan before.”

“Logan’s preference for privacy, even secrecy, concerning his private life is well-known.”

“You appeared in your role only after Marvin had surprised you alone with Logan at his retreat.”

“Are you suggesting Logan claimed me as his fiancee merely to save my reputation? Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone I know is miles away; why should I care? Besides, the notion is so old-fashioned as to be laughable.”

“I don’t think you would have cared at all. I would probably have been quite a feather in your cap, even if news of your presence in such a love nest had been splashed over every newsstand in the country. No, I don’t think your reputation was involved. Logan may be conventional, but he isn’t stupid. Nor do I think he would have done it to improve Marvin’s opinion of him. Marvin has some outdated ideas of his own about fidelity and morality, but he is a realist, especially when it comes to people involved with the movie business.”

“I suppose you do have some kind of a theory?” Clare inquired with a show of weariness.

“Yes, I do. It was for my sake, to protect me, of course. You were there. Marvin already thought you were Logan’s — shall we say special friend? — for the week. Logan decided to use the situation to convince Marvin he had absolutely no grounds for his suspicions of me.”

Janine’s incredible self-confidence was beginning to wear on Clare. Wasn’t it just possible her version of the story was the correct one? Logan had used violence to protect the producer’s wife once; why wouldn’t he do this for her also? The reasons for the slight changes he had made in the story could be easily explained. He might have thought Clare would be more sympathetic, more easily persuaded to do as he wanted, if she thought he was unattached. The gentleman actor being pursued by a woman he did not want to hurt and could not afford to anger. At the same time, the tale would have served to mask his true feelings. It was plausible, and yet Clare was not ready to accept it completely.

In her best imitation of Logan’s mocking style, Clare said, “It was lucky that I happened to be around when I was needed, then, wasn’t it?”

“That did confuse me at first,” Janine admitted. “I had the best of reasons for knowing Logan had no interest in the company of other women. Forgetting in another woman’s arms is not his style; he is stronger than that. How did you come to be there, then? I asked myself, and I remembered the small clue Logan had supplied. You are a freelance writer. The instant I remembered, I knew. You were there for a story.”

“Logan doesn’t give out interviews,” Clare pointed out.

“You are not from the Coast, not too familiar with interviewing big stars, I think. You wouldn’t know Logan’s habits until it was too late. I don’t know how you came to discover where he was, but I expect the blizzard caught you at Logan’s place. You must be thanking your lucky stars for it. Not only did it give you time enough with him to come up with some kind of story, regardless of his lack of cooperation, it landed you a temporary post as his fiancee — not to mention a chance to be closer to him than most women ever dreamed. Was that last prospect all it took to induce you to agree to this — what did you call it? — masquerade, or did he offer you something else? Say, an exclusive?”

“You have it all worked out, don’t you?” Clare asked. “I don’t see why you didn’t want to speak of it in front of Logan, then. Could it be because you are afraid he will deny it?”

She was troubled by more than that. Janine had come so close to the truth Clare felt a sickness in the pit of her stomach. It was odd, but the closer she came, the less inclined Clare felt to admit to Janine she was right. The fact that both Janine and Logan had hit upon the same reason for her presence at Logan’s place was distressing. It might stem from no more than their cynical disbelief in coincidence, bred in the movie capital, but it could also mean that Janine had spoken to Logan already, that he had told her exactly what had taken place between Clare and himself.

“My reasons for not speaking to Logan are no concern of yours,” Janine informed her. “Nor is my relationship with him any of your business. It must be obvious that we have been, are now, more than friends.”

“That isn’t the way I heard it,” Clare said stubbornly.

“No? You would be a fool to believe any tale Logan might have spun for you to enlist your aid. I tell you what I say is true. Since that is clear, I believe we can dispense with the supposition and the pretense.” Janine got to her feet, moving toward the door.

Clare rose also. “Really, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“My purpose in coming here this afternoon,” the former actress went on, her trained voice overriding Clare’s with little effort, “was to let you know that I am in possession of the facts. I will condone your part in it because of the stupid screenplay Logan is so determined to have Marvin produce. I care that much for him. My patience is not infinite, however. I have no liking for seeing you pushing yourself into Logan’s arms. If you cannot remember that you are a substitute for me, that this masquerade is not reality, then I refuse to be responsible for what I might do. You see, I care more for the man that for his script, and I am growing tired of having to pacify my husband. If you can’t be sensible, if you can’t be circumspect in your behavior, I will go to Marvin and tell him everything. You keep that in mind the next time Logan makes love to you in public!”

The door slammed behind the woman, Clare stood still, paralyzed with anger and fear and a deeper dread that she approached cautiously in her mind. Could Janine be right? Was it really possible? Had Logan lied to her? Beyond this question was one other haunting doubt, one other possibility. Logan could have lied to them both. It would have been to his advantage, if he had been somewhat less than particular as to ethics, for him to play up to Janine in order to win her influence with her husband; then, when she became too intense, threatening to leave her husband regardless of the loss to Logan of Hobbs’s support, he might have decided to skip town, hoping she would do nothing so long as he was not there to support her. When Marvin Hobbs had confronted Logan, obviously expecting to find his wife, Logan had grasped at Clare to protect himself, later offering her a plausible tale and a likely bribe to gain her cooperation. Meanwhile, he had persuaded Janine to remain docile, at least until the contracts for the film had been signed.

The explanation made sense. It did not fit her conception of Logan’s character, but he was an actor, wasn’t he? He could be convincing in any role he chose to play.

For long moments Clare stood in the center of the room, her gray eyes wide and dark with pain, her arms clasped across her body. Though the room was warm, so warm the windows were fogged over, she was suddenly cold, shaken by a chill that came from the drafty emptiness within her.

In spite of the fullness of the next few days, they seemed to creep past. They began early. Clare and Logan breakfasted alone most of the time. Afterward they would drive out into the countryside, sometimes to where the Roaring Fork River lay frozen in its bed, trickling quietly, as if murmuring to itself, beneath the thick layers of greenish-white ice. Other times they would-turn east on the narrow, winding road that led to Independence Pass over the Continental Divide, enjoying the majestic snow-covered vistas for as far as the road would take them. Once started, Clare always wanted to go higher and higher, but the mountain pass with its steep grades and unguarded curves was closed for the winter. Once they parked their car at the farthest point the road would take them, and on rented snowshoes, carrying a knapsack loaded with snacks and a flask of hot coffee, tracked through the silent white forests. Once their mode of transportation was cross-country skis, and Clare, sliding along with energy in Logan’s wake, was not certain she did not prefer this almost solitary sport to the crowds and competitive daring of the ski slopes.

The slopes were not ignored, however. Clare and Logan drove out once or twice to the resorts at Aspen and Aspen Highlands, where Logan gave Clare pointers on style as they watched the skiers make their runs. One day, following the crowd to Buttermilk, they caught a portion of the national skiing championships, a fine display of technique in the cold winter sunshine.

Clare’s own ability on skis improved with each day’s lesson. By the time her first week in the mountains was drawing to a close, she had progressed from the grounds of the Snowmass Country Club to the beginners’ slope, and from there to intermediate skiing.