Текст книги "Native Affairs"
Автор книги: Doreen Malek Owens
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 37 страниц)
He looked at her then, his light eyes measuring, wondering whether she would make a scene.
“I’m going,” she announced. “But before I do I want to say something to you, and I want you to listen.”
He didn’t move, and his expression didn’t change.
“I’m sure you’ve convinced yourself that you have the noblest of motives in sending me away. You can tell yourself that you’re protecting me, and you may actually believe that. You can tell yourself that it’s because of your parents and believe that’s valid too. But the truth is you’re scared.”
He straightened slightly, and his lips parted.
“I’ve gotten to you, haven’t I, and that frightens you. Everybody told me how you acted when you thought I was really hurt, and that behavior doesn’t lie. You care about me, and you were wild when you thought something bad had happened to me. Now that you know I’m okay you’re pulling back from that and running in the other direction.”
He lifted one shoulder slightly. “You can think that if it makes you feel better,” he said evenly.
She shook her head. “Such a tough guy. You forget who you’re talking to, Drew. I know you, remember?”
“You don’t know anything about me,” he replied.
“Don’t I? You dashed back here to your childhood hangout to play with your little gun because it was easier than facing the feelings you have for me. Physically, you’re ready to take on anything and anybody, but emotional intimacy terrifies you.”
He didn’t answer, his jaw clenched so tightly that the little muscles along its edge were jumping wildly.
Cindy sighed with resignation. “I’ve tried, Drew. I can’t try any more. I love you, but I have had enough. Goodbye.”
She turned her back and walked toward the trees.
He made no attempt to follow her.
Chapter 9
Five days later Cindy was in the guest room packing to go home when Paula knocked on her door.
“Come in,” Cindy called.
Paula entered, still in uniform, unpinning her hair from its severe workday style. “I saw your foxy friend this afternoon,” she announced without preliminary.
Cindy looked up from folding a sweater into the suitcase set out on the bed.
“He stopped by the outpatient clinic for a checkup on his arm,” Paula said. “I ran into him in the hall.”
“Is he all right?” Cindy asked.
“He’s fine, Cindy. Stop worrying. It’ll take a silver bullet to finish him.”
“You’re not amusing me, Paula,” Cindy said. She tucked a set of underwear into the liner pocket. “I hope you behaved yourself.” She shot Paula a measuring glance.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Paula said. “I was civil to him.” She folded her arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “He asked me when you were going back to Pennsylvania.”
“Did you tell him?”
“You bet I did. I wanted to make it clear that you would be on your way very soon.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” Cindy asked, with a faint smile.
Paula snorted. “If only that were your problem. Are you going to get over this, or what?”
“I have to, don’t I? There’s little choice involved.”
“That louse,” Paula said bitterly. “I could kill him.”
Cindy shook her head wearily. “It’s not his fault, Paula. I knew what he was like when I started with him; he never misled me. And despite everything, it was worth it.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes, I do. When it was good, it was wonderful, and I wouldn’t have missed that for anything. I just took a gamble and lost. That happens, doesn’t it?”
“It happens all the time to me,” Paula answered sadly.
“It will be easier for me once I’m back at work,” Cindy said with assurance. “I have nothing to do here now that the research is finished. Once I’m teaching those undergraduates, listening to their problems and trying to untangle their schedules, I’ll be able to forget.”
“Do you really think so?” Paula asked doubtfully.
Cindy sighed. “No, Paula, but I’m trying to be brave and you’re not helping me,” she said, irritated.
Paula bit her lip and they both laughed.
“Well, at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” Paula observed.
“The last refuge of the brokenhearted,” Cindy said.
“You love him very much, don’t you?”
“I think I always will. But I can’t change what’s happened; I have to live with it.” She pointed to a pair of slacks hanging on the back of the door. “Hand me those, will you?”
Paula gave them to her and said, “What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“Three-thirty in the afternoon. You’ll be on duty, right? I’ll have to call a cab.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, to go that far it will cost a fortune. I have several people who owe me favors; I’ll switch with one of them. Let me make a few calls.”
“Thanks, Paula. I’m sorry about the timing, but it was the only flight I could get.”
“No problem,” Paula called, walking into the hall where Cindy heard her dialing the phone. Low tones of conversation followed while Cindy finished her packing and snapped the suitcase shut.
“I’m off again,” Paula announced from the doorway. “Have to pull the night shift to clear the day tomorrow.”
“Are you sure that’s all right? Won’t you be tired?”
“I’ll have two days off to rest,” Paula replied. “I’ll take a quick shower and change.” She paused in mid stride. “I hate to leave you here alone.”
Cindy smiled with a wry awareness of her situation. “You’re not my babysitter, Paula. I’ll be fine.”
Paula went into the bathroom, and Cindy sat on the edge of the bed, looking around at the room that had been her home for several weeks. It was barren now, empty of her personal items, like a hotel room when the guests have left.
At that moment, it seemed the perfect complement to her desolate soul.
* * * *
After Paula left Cindy tried to read some of the glossy magazines that Paula bought in stacks of five. The articles on miracle diets and the latest makeup techniques failed to hold her interest, and she switched on the television set. The schedule offered nothing but situation comedies full of unfunny situations and canned laughter, and she shut it off again in frustration. Finally she put on a local FM radio station, turning the volume up on the rock music that filled the apartment. She felt warm in the enclosed rooms and opened the outer door to the screen. It was a cool night, and Paula hadn’t turned on the air conditioning. Drinking in the fresh air that flooded in from the hall like a tide, Cindy began to hum along with the singer whose voice canceled the silence and lifted her spirits.
“I can’t hold back; I’m on the edge,” she sang as she started to dance, which she often did when alone. Too reserved to perform in public, she liked to fling herself about when no one was looking. She indulged her need for self-expression and got the benefit of the exercise at the same time. She soon became overheated trying to keep pace with the driving rock beat and paused between songs to strip to her chemise, tossing her clothes on the sofa.
A new number began, and she joined in with it. She shimmied and spun around, carried away by the music, lost in the throbbing drums and wailing guitars. It was bliss just to move, not to think, to feel her heart beating and blood pumping, the air filling her lungs. She was alive, and that, at least, was something to celebrate.
Cindy was so absorbed in what she was doing that when she whirled past the door and caught sight of a figure there, she stopped cold, gasping with shock. Her eyes widened and the back of her hand went to her mouth. It was Fox.
She had no idea how long he’d been there, but from his expression, it was a while. He was breathing hard, his broad shoulders rising and falling, his face filmed with a fine sheen of perspiration. The fever pitch of his excitement flowed from him to her in potent wordless communication.
Cindy stared at him, mesmerized.
He pushed the screen door open and stepped through it, never taking his eyes from hers. He kicked the storm door shut with his foot and locked it without looking at it. As he passed the stereo he shut it off with a snap.
He was wearing a blue cotton shirt, open at the throat, with a turquoise amulet on a silver circlet around his neck. It was the first Indian thing she had ever seen on him, and it glowed like a sapphire against the honey bronze background of his skin. His jeans, as always, fit him like a sheath, clinging to his slim hips and powerful legs with flattering precision. His feet inside the battered brown moccasins were bare.
Cindy took a step toward him, forgetting that she wore nothing but a silken teddy, forgetting everything but the miracle of his presence. When he saw that she wasn’t going to send him away, he covered the remaining distance between them in a second. He caught her to him in an embrace so powerful that it lifted her bodily into his arms.
He just held her for a few moments, savoring the sensation, and then knelt, lowering her to the floor. He looked at her for a long, breathless beat, then ran his hands over her body from shoulders to knees, molding the damp silk to her slender form. Cindy’s lashes fluttered, and then her eyes closed.
Fox slipped the straps of the sleek ivory chemise down her arms, and then pulled it from her body, tossing it aside. He bent and encircled her waist with his hands, laving the tip of each breast with his tongue. Cindy sank her fingers into the wealth of hair at the back of his neck, holding his head against her. When he finally sat up she clutched at his shirt, desperate to maintain contact.
He put her hands aside gently and took off his shirt as she watched through heavy lidded eyes. When his torso was bare she reached up and caressed him, moving her palm from pectoral to bicep, admiring his beauty. His large fingers covered her smaller ones, and he pushed her hand down his muscular midsection to his thigh. When she touched him he closed his eyes and sighed so deeply that it echoed in the stillness of the room.
He was motionless for a time, absorbing the feel of her hands on him. Growing impatient, she put her arms around him and tugged him toward her. Then he stood and removed his pants while she shifted restlessly, anxious for his return.
When he joined her again, she put her arms around his neck and received him eagerly. He kissed her for the first time since he had arrived, his mouth full and warm on hers, and entered her at almost the same moment. Tears gathered in the corners of Cindy’s eyes, and she turned her head, squeezing her lids shut to hide them. She knew that this was his farewell. She would never have this with him again.
It was over quickly; they were both too hungry to go slow. At the end, exhausted, they fell asleep immediately. Cindy’s final impression was of Fox surrounding her, of being pinned to the earth by his sweet weight.
* * * *
When she woke up, Fox was gone. Her head rested on a throw pillow from the sofa, and he had brought the quilt from the guest room, covering her with it. Her chemise was folded in a neat square on the chair by the door.
Cindy got up and, dragging the quilt after her, looked for a note. There was none to be found, but she hadn’t really expected one. Dissatisfied with their brittle goodbye at the lake, he had come at the last moment to do it properly, to say with his body what he would never put into words.
Cindy glanced at the clock. Paula would be home soon. She pushed her hair back from her face, and, trailing the quilt like a child dragging a teddy bear, went into the bathroom to take a shower.
* * * *
When Paula returned from work she found Cindy sitting cross legged on the sofa, wearing a bathrobe and staring into space.
“Oh, oh,” Paula said. “I know that look. He was here, wasn’t he?”
Cindy nodded. “Paula, I’m such a fool. I had made up my mind to forget him, and then when he showed up here tonight it all went right out of my head. He didn’t even have to say a word.” She covered her face with her hands. “I feel like an idiot.”
Paula sat next to her and patted her arm. “You’re not a fool, Cindy. You’re in love.”
“I used to think I was so strong,” Cindy went on. “But it was just because I didn’t know. I didn’t realize what it was like to feel this way.” She shook her head slowly. “Fox is the strong one.”
“I don’t know about that,” Paula replied. “He seems to be having a lot of trouble letting you go.”
“He may be having trouble, but he’ll do it,” Cindy said.
“You’re very certain.”
“You’ll see,” Cindy said sadly.
In the morning Paula seemed to be waiting for the phone or the doorbell to ring. But as the hour of their departure for the airport approached and there was no word from Fox, she gradually realized that Cindy had been correct.
“I can’t believe he’s not going to stop you,” Paula said to Cindy as they loaded her bags into her car.
“It’s all right,” Cindy said to her friend, who seemed more upset about it than she was. “I’ve accepted it. Now let’s get going before I miss the flight.”
They didn’t hit much traffic on the way and Cindy was early for the plane. Paula hung around morosely, staring up at the flight board and then at Cindy, her expression uncomfortable.
“Why don’t you go?” Cindy finally said to her. “There’s nothing you can do here and you must be tired. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Paula asked, obviously relieved.
“Positive.”
Paula embraced her. “I’m really sorry it didn’t work out with Fox,” she said. “I know I’ve said some bad things about him, but if he’s what you want, you know I’d like you to have him.”
“It’s okay; I understand.”
Paula smiled at her with misty eyes. “At least you got your work done. It’s hard to remember that was the real reason you came here.”
“Sometimes it is for me, too,” Cindy replied, her tone wistful.
“I’m going to miss you. It was like being back in school again,” Paula said, sniffing.
“Without the dormitory food,” Cindy answered, and Paula laughed.
“And the hissing radiator,” she added.
“And the guy who called at three a.m. every Friday night and breathed into the hall phone. Remember him?”
Paula groaned. “How could I forget? After we stopped answering the phone he started sending letters to the mail proctor, who just happened to be me.”
They looked at each other, delaying the separation with small talk. They could never recapture a happy past that had fled down the corridors of time.
Paula hugged Cindy quickly again, and said, “Write or I’ll kill you.” Then she stalked off in the direction of the main doors, not looking back.
Cindy watched her leave, and then filed through the security check, dutifully producing her wristwatch when it set off the alarm. Then she sat in the lounge clutching her boarding pass, wondering how she was going to get through the rest of the day, the week, the month.
She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. She didn’t open them again until the public address system announced the boarding of her plane.
Chapter 10
Two weeks crawled by. Cindy submitted her paper and assumed her teaching duties, which failed to fill up her time in the way that she had hoped. She had enough free hours in which to miss Fox and rethink every moment she had spent with him. She kept telling herself that her state of mind would improve, but she didn’t actually believe it. Like the human quarry that Fox chased, her heart had been stalked and captured.
She was the first person in the department on Thursday morning. After pausing in the lounge to make coffee, she unlocked Richard’s door with one hand, balancing a stack of books with the other. Her briefcase was clutched under the arm that pushed in the door. She took one look inside the office and screamed. All her burdens crashed to the floor.
There was a man sprawled on the carpet behind the desk.
Cindy thought briefly of security, and then realized that the guard was at the other end of the building and there was nobody else around. She was backing out when the man sat up and regarded her sleepily, awakened by the noise.
It was Fox. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and yawned.
“Hi, princess,” he said, as if she had just encountered him in the checkout line at the grocery store.
“Hi!” Cindy exclaimed. “That’s all you have to say? What on earth are you doing here? And how did you get in?”
“I broke in last night,” he said casually, unfolding the jacket he had used for a pillow. “You should have that lock changed. I jimmied it in about three seconds, and then reset it once I got inside. Not very safe for all of your research, right?”
“Look,” Cindy said, trying not to lose her temper, “suppose you tell me why you broke in at all. I presume you still know how to use the telephone?”
“Your number is unlisted,” he answered, rising to his full height and stretching. “What a hard floor in here. Got to watch that. It could give you flat feet.”
Cindy could feel herself mentally counting to ten. “You have my address,” she said.
He shook his head, looking a little sheepish. “No, I don’t. Paula wouldn’t give it to me.”
Cindy stared at him.
“I asked her for it, twice, and she said that I’d get the keys to the pearly gates before I got your address from her.”
Cindy grinned. That sounded like Paula. “Now why do you imagine she said that?” Cindy asked him.
“She seems to think I treated you badly,” he answered, his green eyes seeking hers.
“And what do you think?”
“I think I treated you badly,” he said quietly.
That gave Cindy a moment’s pause. She cleared her throat and asked, “How is Paula?”
“The same as ever. Mad at me.”
“Good for her,” Cindy said crisply.
He fidgeted with the blotter on Richard’s desk. “Does that mean you’re not going to listen to me?”
“That depends upon what you have to say,” she replied, forcing herself to remain on the other side of the room. She wanted to run to him and fling her arms around his neck, but that would never do.
“Do you know why I came to see you the night before you left?” he asked abruptly.
‘‘Why don’t you tell me?”
“I knew that you were going, and I couldn’t stay away. I had to be with you that one last time.”
“And you were.”
His expression softened and his voice changed. “I can still see the way you looked, dancing all by yourself. You would never let go like that if you knew someone were watching.”
“I let go,” Cindy replied. “I let go with you.”
Fox lowered his eyes. “Does that mean I bring out the worst in you?”
“The best, I would have said.”
He drew a breath, then exhaled slowly. “That’s why I’m here,” he said. “Because we bring out the best in each other.”
Cindy watched him, hardly daring to hope. He had disappointed her so painfully already.
Richard chose that inopportune moment to arrive at his office. He looked from Cindy to Fox and his mouth fell open comically.
“Hi, Richard,” Cindy said quickly. “This is Andrew Fox; I met him when I was down in Florida. Drew, my thesis advisor, Richard Caldwell.”
The two men shook hands, and Richard tried not to stare at Fox’s wrinkled clothing or the backpack dangling by its strap from his arm.
“Drew, why don’t we go down to the lounge and talk,” Cindy said pointedly, taking his hand and practically dragging him into the corridor. “Richard, I left those notes you wanted on your desk.”
Fox followed her down the hall, oblivious to the stares of the arriving employees. He was like an exotic bird in a covey of sparrows.
“Just go inside,” Cindy said to him. “I’ll be right with you.”
She hurried down to the secretary and told her to greet her class and give them a reading assignment. Then she dashed back to the lounge, where Fox was drinking coffee and reading the notices posted on the bulletin board.
“Somebody’s selling three dozen used tennis rackets for seventy-five dollars,” he announced to her. “You ought to take advantage of that one.”
“I have to make this fast,” she said. “My class will be coming in soon.”
He turned to look at her, and his face was expressionless. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your schedule,” he said stiffly.
“Come on, Drew, be fair. I have work to do here and I didn’t know you were coming.”
“All right,” he said. “I’ll be quick. I’m here because I can’t live without you. I’ve tried, and I can’t do it.”
“You sound annoyed about it,” she observed, almost whispering. She wanted to ask him to repeat it. Had he really said it?
The outer door opened and Rachel Clarkson came in, carrying a stack of papers. When she looked up and saw the two of them her eyes darted back and forth, seeking an explanation.
“Do you mind?” Fox asked, displaying his most charming smile. “I am trying to talk to this young lady.” He ushered a stunned Rachel back out the door. Rachel was the worst gossip in the department; Cindy knew that the story would be legend by five o’clock that day.
“Drew, you can’t keep throwing people out of here,” she said, when he returned. “This is the department lounge, for heaven’s sake.”
“Really? I thought it was Grand Central Station.” He sighed with exaggerated patience. “All right. Where can we go?”
Cindy thought about it with a mind too dazzled by his latest admission to have a clear grasp of anything. “The catalog room should be empty.”
“I’m not even going to ask what a catalog room is. Lead on.”
She took him through the office maze and out into the classroom corridor.
As they passed her class, which was filling up, Cindy told him to wait for her.
She went inside and confronted her students, who were groaning when they saw the reading assignment written on the blackboard by the secretary. They quieted when they saw her take her place in front of the podium.
“We thought you wouldn’t be here,” Brian Talbott said. “What’s with the busy work?”
Cindy looked at them for a few moments and then said, “Class dismissed.”
No freshman class ever argues with that. Whooping their delight, they were gone in seconds, brushing past a grinning Fox who greeted her with, “You can handle my classes anytime.”
“That was very irresponsible of me,” she said faintly. “I’ll have to make it up later.”
“Worry about it tomorrow,” he instructed. “Right now we have more important things to consider. Where’s the catalog room?”
Cindy took him there and unlocked the door. Once they were inside he pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she was breathless.
“Wait a minute,” she said, holding him at arm’s length when she finally managed to break away. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?” he asked, seeking her mouth with his.
“Making love to avoid facing our problems.”
“I’m here. We have no problems.”
“Yes, we do. Why did you let me come back here, Drew? Why didn’t you do anything about us when I was leaving Florida? Is this just going to be more of the same, seesawing back and forth? We’ll have a great time until you get scared and run off again?”
He released her, his face set. “Boy, did you get tough all of a sudden.”
“That’s what happens when you cry yourself to sleep every night over a man who can’t make up his mind. You get tough.”
He touched her cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, princess. And I have made up my mind. That’s why I’m here.”
“And do you think I’m just going to forget what you put me through as if it never happened?”
He glared at her, his back to the wall. “You love me. You said it in Florida, and you still do. You wouldn’t have slept with me if you didn’t. And I think you always will.”
She shook her head. “Your humility is touching.”
“Are you trying to tell me you don’t?”
“Of course not. You know better. But I’ve been thinking lately that love isn’t everything, Drew. I loved you enough for three people and that still didn’t make it work.”
“That was the problem,” he said, so softly that she almost didn’t hear it.
“What?”
‘‘You loved me too much.”
Cindy put her hands to her temples. “Drew, you’re not making sense.”
“Yes, I am. Listen to me.” He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You were right when you said I was scared. I could see that in such a short time I’d become everything to you. I didn’t know if I could live up to that. You were giving me so much, all you had, and that made me want to run.”
Her eyes filmed with tears. “I don’t understand you, Drew. Most people are afraid they’ll never be loved like that. I’m afraid I’ll never be loved like that.”
He embraced her tightly, rocking her back and forth. “You are,” he murmured. “You are.”
‘‘I wish I could believe that,” she sobbed.
Fox led her to an empty chair and pulled a wad of tissues from his pocket. “I came prepared,” he said, and she had to smile.
He sat on his haunches before her and took her hands. “Princess, I know I’ve given you a very bad time, not because I wanted to but because I couldn’t help it.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been alone all my life. I never trusted anyone except my family, and my job didn’t exactly encourage me to believe the best about people.” He brushed a loose strand of hair back from her forehead. “And then you arrived, with your satchel full of books, your gentleness, and your honor.” He shrugged one shoulder slightly. “I couldn’t resist you. You seemed to be everything fine and noble that was missing from my life.”
“Oh, Drew,” Cindy said, sniffling. “You make me sound like the Statue of Liberty or something.”
“Are you going to listen?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I’m listening.”
“I kept telling myself,” he went on, “that I would see you just one more time and then stop, like you were a drug. But you weren’t. You were something I needed in order to live, something I’d been lacking and then found.”
She didn’t move, her eyes fastened on his face.
“Then when you got hurt and wound up in the hospital it looked like it was my responsibility.”
“Only to you, Drew. I never thought that.”
He shook his head. “Come on, Cindy, that wouldn’t have happened to you if I were an accountant.”
She was silent, unable to dispute him.
“I felt so guilty, like I had...defiled you. All I could think about was the way you looked when I brought you in to the hospital, all white and cold, as limp as a rag doll.” His face changed at the memory and she could see the impact it still had on him. “And Paula screaming at me in the emergency room, ‘This is your fault! You did this to her!’”
“She was upset, Drew. She didn’t know what she was saying.”
“She knew,” he countered quietly. “And she was right.”
“I didn’t blame you.”
“Of course not, you wouldn’t. But I blamed myself. There didn’t seem to be anything to do but to let you go.”
“And I had no say in the matter? That was a decision you had to make all by yourself?”
He turned her hand over in her lap and studied it. “I knew what you would say. You would have stayed with me even if you thought it would happen again. So I handled it.”
“You handled it by returning my love to me like a gift you didn’t wish to open.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his head bent, and she believed that he was.
She touched his hair, so soft and silky, so unlike the rest of him. “Then why did you come after me, Drew? Has anything changed?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, then said, “Once your thesis is accepted and you get your degree, you’ll be free to go anywhere and look for a job, right?”
“Right.”
He raised his eyes to hers. “What about coming to Florida?”
“To do what?”
“To be my wife,” he answered, clearly afraid that she would refuse him, but determined, as always, to complete his mission.
Cindy bent forward to rest her head on his shoulder. She put her arms around his waist and closed her eyes.
“Is that a yes?” he asked huskily, stroking her back and arms as if to assure himself of her reality.
“I want to marry you, more than anything in the world. But what you just said about your life is still true, and I don’t think I could stand worrying about you every time you went out on a case,” Cindy said.
“I know. That’s why I got a new job.”
Cindy raised her head.
He nodded. “I’ll be running a security agency in Tampa. With the connections I had from working with the police it wasn’t hard to arrange.”
Cindy stared at him, hardly daring to believe it.
“I want you, princess,” he said. “And I’ll do anything I have to do in order to get you.”
“But will you be happy? Tracking has always been your life.”
“I’ll be happy with you. You’ll be my new life.”
She hugged him again, closing her eyes. “What about the differences between us?” she asked. “They seemed to bother you so much.”
“We’ll work them out,” he said in her ear. “It’s not fair to blame you and deny both of us happiness for something my mother did over thirty years ago.”
“Now why didn’t I think of that?” she said, and he chuckled.
“Are you saying I should have listened to you in the first place and avoided all this conflict?” he asked her.
“Certainly not,” she whispered.
“I didn’t think so.” He pulled back from her and stood up, looking around the room.
“Does this door lock?” he asked.
“Drew, you’re not suggesting...”
“I certainly am. I’ve waited long enough.” He picked her up and carried her to the vinyl love seat in the reading area. “This will have to do.” He went to the door and locked it, then blocked it with a filing cabinet.
When he joined her she asked, “What would you have done if Richard showed up first at the office instead of me?”
“I’d have found you,” he said grimly, unbuttoning her blouse. “I would have gotten the information out of him.”
She opened her mouth to say something else and he covered it with a large, tanned hand.
“I love you,” he said, “but if you say one more word I am going to gag you.”
He kissed her, and she discovered that she had nothing left to say.
– THE END –
BLACKFOOT
AFFAIR
Doreen Owens Malek
–
Published by
Gypsy Autumn Publications
PO Box 383 • Yardley, PA 19067
–
Copyright 1992 and 2012
by Doreen Owens Malek
www.doreenowensmalek.com
Originally published as
Arrow in the Snow (1992)
The Author asserts the moral right to be
identified as author of this work
All rights reserved. No part of this book, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, scanning or any information storage retrieval system, without explicit permission in writing from the Author or Publisher.
First USA printing: 1992
All of the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
