Читать книгу Daddy On The Doorstep - Judy Christenberry, Judy Christenberry - Страница 9

Andrea Bainbridge peered through the sheets of rain deluging her windshield and prayed she’d make it to Aunt Bess’s house before her car was swept off the road. She could barely see the pavement. Only the center white line kept her on track.

Afraid to go above a snail’s pace, Andrea thought she’d never reach the long drive that led to Aunt Bess’s farmhouse. When she finally saw the outline of the familiar mailbox through the pouring rain, she turned her car into the drive with relief and then panicked as the wheels skidded beneath her.

Mud wasn’t the right description for what was under her car now. Maybe quicksand would be better. Or shifting sands. Or—

Stop it, Andy! You’re getting hysterical!

With good reason, she argued with herself. Aunt Bess had called her three hours ago, complaining of chest pains. Andrea hadn’t been able to convince the stubborn old lady to go to the hospital without her. Bess had assured her she could wait until Andrea arrived.

Normally she could make the drive in a little less than two hours. But these conditions weren’t normal. It had been raining day and night for almost a month. Andrea knew how Noah had felt. All the rivers and streams had flooded days ago. There was only one road to Bess’s farm which was still above water.

And she wasn’t sure how much longer it would be open. She’d been petrified when she’d crossed that one-lane wooden bridge.

The car slid out of control and she fought the steering wheel. When she finally came to a halt, she was almost sideways in the small lane.

“Hold on, Bess. I’m coming,” she muttered, more for herself than Bess. But the old lady was the one person in this world Andrea loved without reservation. She’d do anything for Aunt Bess.

Carefully backing up, she braked and then put the car in Drive. The tires spun and she swallowed her fear. Easing off the gas pedal, she allowed the forward motion of the gear to move the car. Once the tires had gripped whatever solid ground there was, she pressed slightly on the pedal and breathed a sigh of relief as the car moved forward.

When the dim form of the old farmhouse became visible, Andrea killed the motor and leaped from the car. She wasn’t worried about the rain or the mud, only about Bess. She had to get her to a hospital.

“Bess? Bess?” she called as she swung open the front door.

Silence greeted her. Fearing what she might find, Andrea raced to the kitchen, the true center of Aunt Bess’s home, but it was empty.

From there, she ran to the bedroom. More silence.

“Bess? Where are you?” Panic rising, she raced back through to the living room and the front door. That’s when she saw the message taped to the panel of glass.

Andy,

I persuaded Bess to let me take her to the hospital before you got here. I didn’t think she should wait. Hope I did the right thing.

Roy Evans

Andrea slumped against the door, relieved beyond words that Bess was in good hands. Roy Evans was a nearby neighbor who checked on Bess almost every day. Then, concern about Roy’s statement about not waiting filled Andrea and she ran back to the kitchen and the phone on the wall.

Bess kept her telephone directory on a shelf below the phone and Andrea thumbed through it impatiently, searching for the number to the small hospital in the closest town. As she was dialing the number, concentrating on Bess’s safety with all her heart, she vaguely heard more noise, though it was hard to detect a difference over the roar of the storm.

“Hubbard Hospital,” a clipped voice answered and then spoke to someone else before Andrea could ask about Bess. “No, sir, you can’t go back there. You’re getting in the doctor’s way!”

“Please,” Andrea interrupted, “I need to find out about—”

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone here?”

Andrea stared at the phone receiver briefly before she realized this new voice wasn’t coming over the wire. It was coming from the front door.

And she recogized the voice. It belonged to her soon-to-be ex-husband, Nicholas Avery.

She hung up the phone and hurried to the front of the house, unable to believe her ears. Nick, the last she’d heard, had been missing after he’d gone to Africa on a business trip.

“Aunt Bess?” he called.

“Nick?” she questioned even as her eyes confirmed her earlier guess. “What are you doing here?”

Okay, she hadn’t sounded welcoming, but what did he expect? There was no need for him to frown at her like that.

“I think that’s my line, isn’t it, Andy? After all, Bess is my aunt.”

“But you were missing—”

“And now I’m found. Where’s Aunt Bess?” he snapped.

“At…at the hospital, I think.” His question had made her remember the important person in their little drama. “She left a note. Her neighbor took her to the hospital.”

“She’s hurt?” he asked, urgency in his voice.

“She called me earlier. Told me she was having chest pains and wouldn’t go to the doctor until I came.”

“A heart attack?” Nick asked with even more urgency. She’d never seen her husband lose his cool. Ex-husband, she corrected herself. Or soon to be. But he seemed close to the edge now. That was one thing they’d always had in common. They both loved Bess.

“I was calling the hospital when I heard you. I’ll call again.” This time she asked her question as soon as the operator answered.

“I’ll ring her room, but make your call brief. We’ve got a lot of emergencies and we need to keep the lines open.”

“Aunt Bess,” Andrea said in relief when a quavery voice answered.

“Is that you, Andy? Thank God. I was so worried. Where are you?”

Andrea didn’t get a chance to answer. Nick took the phone from her hand.

“Aunt Bess? It’s Nick. I’m home. Are you okay?”

Bess was his aunt, his mother’s sister, so she guessed Nick technically had the right to be the one to talk to her. And she knew Bess would be relieved. She’d called Andrea almost a week ago to tell her Nick had flown to Africa on business and then disappeared. The State Department had been unable to offer any information about his safety.

She’d talked to Bess each evening, the two of them sharing their fears. That’s why Nick’s appearance had been even more of a surprise than normal.

“Is she all right?” Andrea asked impatiently, watching his face.

Ignoring her question, he continued to talk to his aunt. “Yes, I will. Take care of yourself.”

He replaced the receiver without offering it to Andrea.

“I wanted to talk to her!” she exclaimed, frustration rising.

“The operator cut in and asked us to hang up. Aunt Bess is okay. The doctor thinks it was indigestion.”

“Indigestion?” she questioned faintly. Indigestion. She’d worried herself sick, driven through a major storm, and unexpectedly had to face Nick. All for indigestion.

And she’d do the same thing again. She wouldn’t take any chances with Bess’s health. “I’m glad,” she whispered.

Nick made no response, only stared at her. Chilled by the coldness in his eyes, she stepped around him and headed for the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“To the hospital.” She didn’t expect him to ask her to stay. He probably didn’t want to talk to her any more than she wanted to talk to him. However, he surprised her by catching her arm.

“No, you’re not.”

“What are you talking about?” she protested. “Of course I am. Let me go!”

“Andy! Listen to me. The bridge is out.”

“Nice try. I just crossed over that bridge.” And she dreaded the thought of doing so again.

“I flew in on the police helicoptor. We watched it wash away.”

The sincerity in his voice almost convinced her. But she couldn’t face the prospect of staying here alone with him. “I don’t believe you,” she insisted, and turned back toward the door.

He wouldn’t let her go. “Andy. Use your head for once. You can’t go!”

She wrenched her coat from his hold. “Use my head for once?” she repeated, glaring at him. Then she snapped her mouth shut and ran to the front door.

He called her name above the storm and she was sure he pursued her. Nick never gave in or admitted he’d been bested. But this time she would do things her way. Tumbling down the steps into the rain, she had to slow down or she’d lose her footing. Too bad she left the car so far from the porch. But she’d been in as big a hurry when she’d arrived, as she was now.

He caught her just as she rounded the front of the car. She turned to scream at him over the thunder and rain. Before she could say anything, however, he yanked her toward him and they both fell into the mud. Even as she raised up to ask him if he was crazy, a louder noise stunned her.

She looked up at a roof of sodden greenness. And a deep crease in the roof of her car. A nearby tree, its roots exposed by the washing away of the soil the past month, had been blown across her car.

Another foot and that crease would have been in her head. She’d have been dead. If Nick hadn’t stopped her, that tree would have fallen on her.

Stunned by that cataclysmic thought, Andrea turned to stare at him. He was rising to his feet, without letting go of her, his clothing covered in mud, rain streaming down him. For the first time, she realized she was in much the same condition.

“Andy, are you hurt?” he gently demanded as he slid his hands beneath her arms to lift her.

“No—no, I don’t think so.” Trembling seized her, but whether it was from the cold or the shock, she didn’t know.

“Come on, we’ve got to get inside and get warm and dry. Can you walk?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. As efficient as always, he led her to the porch. “Take off your clothes.”

Had he lost his mind? She stared at him, wondering if she was having a nightmare.

“Andy,” he explained, his voice laden with exasperation, “you’re wet and muddy. There’s no point in dragging these clothes through the house. Take them off and go get in the shower.”

The thought of a hot shower was heavenly; stripping in front of Nick was not. Even if what he said made sense, she wasn’t prepared to make herself so vulnerable to him. “Turn around.”

“Andy, you’re being ridiculous!” he exploded.

She raised her chin and stared at him, but her rebellion was undermined by the shivering that seized her.

“Damn, you’re a stubborn woman!”

Before she could decide her next step, he abruptly spun around, turning his back to her.

It took her a second to realize he was complying with her request. Then she hurriedly started removing the wet, muddy clothes. As she reached her underwear, her shivering became almost uncontrollable.

“Haven’t you finished yet?” Nick demanded.

“Yes. I’m going in now.”

“Don’t use all the hot water,” he shouted after her.

She raced to the only bathroom, next to Bess’s bedroom, and slammed the door behind her. Quickly removing her underwear, she stepped beneath the hot spray of the shower. It took several minutes for her skin to respond, but gradually the chill disappeared.

A loud banging on the door almost caused her to lose her footing. “Andy? Here’s your bag. And hurry. I’m half frozen.” The bathroom door opened and closed.

She turned off the water and pulled back the curtain. Her suitcase sat on the bathroom mat. Quickly she dried off and dug into the bag. In only minutes she opened the bathroom door to discover Nick leaning against the bedroom wall, his bareness minimally covered by a bath towel. She couldn’t hold back a gasp as her gaze encountered his broad chest.

Her mouth dry, she moved away from the bathroom door and gestured for him to enter. Words were beyond her.

“Thanks. By the way, I didn’t bring any clothes with me. Unless you want me to wear a towel until we can get out of here, see what you can find for me to put on.” He ignored her gaping mouth and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Andrea gulped. Did she want him to wear a bath towel until they were rescued? The man was insane. As she would be if she were constantly exposed to that much of Nick’s well-muscled, tempting skin.

The sound of the shower awoke her from her stupor, and she headed for the basement door. The last time she’d spent a weekend with Bess, she’d been sorting old clothes. If she hadn’t yet given them to charity, surely there would be something for Nick to wear. There had to be.

She returned to the bedroom just as the shower shut off.

“Nick?” she called through the closed door.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve found a few things from the basement. I’ll toss them in.” She hurriedly did what she’d said and pulled the door closed again, as if afraid the steam might escape. As she did so, she heard Nick shove back the shower curtain.

Visions of him stepping from the shower, his dark hair curling from the steam, his body glistening with droplets of water, made her stomach turn over.

She wasn’t going to think about it. Her marriage to Nick was over. Those days were behind her. And she was glad. She swallowed the pain she’d been trying to ignore for the past month. Right, she was glad.

Anxious to occupy her mind with something other than Nick, she hurried to the kitchen and put on a kettle of water. She and Bess loved to share their secrets over a cup of hot tea. She didn’t want to share any secrets with Nick, but at least making tea gave her something to do.

“Do you think Gentleman’s Quarterly will want photos?” Nick asked, his voice husky.

Andrea whirled around, one hand going to her throat. He’d sounded just like that when they’d made love, exhorting her to greater heights. Her memories, those forbidden memories, were driven from her head when she got a good look at the tall, virile man striking a ridiculous pose in the doorway.

Though lean and fit, Nick was a big man. At six foot three, he towered over her. He’d also towered over his uncle, now long dead, because the overalls he was wearing ended a good four inches above his feet, enclosed in striped socks. On the other hand, his uncle must have required more room at his waist because the denim material flapped around Nick’s middle.

Underneath the straps of the overalls he wore a gray sweatshirt that stopped at his waist and fit his broad chest like a second skin. The sleeves ended above his wrists.

In spite of the trauma of the past few hours, Andrea burst out laughing. “Très chic!”

She was reminded of the danger Nick represented when his sexy grin appeared, and he took a step toward her. She quickly backed away.

“Where are you going?”

“Um, I’m fixing some tea. Do you want some?” Turning her back to him, she opened the box of tea bags just as the kettle began to sing.

“Yeah.”

In that one word he let her know that he was no happier about their situation than she was. To avoid looking at him, she busied herself with the mugs and spoons, the cream and sugar, moving it all to the table, then finding a saucer for the oatmeal-raisin cookies Bess always had on hand.

By the time she brought the kettle to the table to pour boiling water into the mugs, Nick had sat down and was waiting. Though it was a cowardly thought, she wished she could come up with a reason to take her tea to another room. But he’d only follow her.

Or would he? He certainly hadn’t followed her when she’d left their home, their marriage. He’d apparently accepted her exit with equanimity. And that was what she wanted, she quickly reminded herself. Exactly what she wanted.

“Thanks.”

She nodded in return, agreeable to talking in monosyllables. At least that limited their topics of discussion.

“Has it been raining the whole time I was gone?”

He’d left for Africa three weeks ago. The rain had begun almost a week later, but no one had expected it to last so long.

“Just about.”

“Things looked pretty bad from the air. Has Aunt Bess had any trouble? She could have contacted my office. My staff was instructed to help with anything she needed.”

Andrea sipped her tea and then nibbled on a cookie, studiously counting the raisins as if she were a quality control inspector.

“You’ve stayed in touch?” he asked.

She stared at him before returning to her contemplation of the cookie. Was he upset that she hadn’t turned her back on Aunt Bess? Well, tough.

“Yes.”

He heaved a sigh that would’ve launched a kite. “Andy, could you give me more than one-word sentences?”

Her gaze returned to his and she raised her chin in defiance. Before he could say anything else, however, she gained control of her temper. She would not act like a child. “I beg your pardon. So much has happened, I’m afraid I’m not myself. Yes, of course, I stayed in touch with Aunt Bess. We’re friends.”

“You also don’t have to treat me like a stranger you’ve just met. We were married, damn it. Still are, for that matter.” Though he kept his voice even, his blue eyes were chilly.

She addressed the only thing of importance in his remarks. “I’ve been intending to apply for a divorce, but—but it’s expensive.” That was the truth, but it wasn’t the only reason. Otherwise she would have taken out a loan. “If you’re in a hurry—”

“No.”

Risking a brief glance at him through her lashes, she then picked up her spoon and needlessly stirred her tea. Was he angry that she hadn’t started proceedings? What was wrong with him? He could divorce her, if he was in a hurry.

Her eyes widened at the thought, and she looked at him again. “Have you applied for a divorce?”

“No.”

She straightened her back. “What was it you said to me? ‘Couldn’t I talk in more than one word sentences?’ The same to you, Nick.”

“All right,” he drawled, giving her a level stare. “I have no intention of applying for a divorce. If you decide to do so, that is your business.”

As if it didn’t affect him in any way, she thought resentfully. But then, that had been the problem with their marriage, too. He seemed totally unaffected by it. Except in the bedroom.

She immediately shut down those thoughts. “More tea?” she offered, since she didn’t know what else to say.

“No, I don’t want any more damn tea!”

“Then perhaps we’d better talk about how we’re going to get out of here. It’s almost three o’clock. Can you get the helicopter to come back for us?”

“I can try,” he said, and rose from the table.

Try? The great Nicholas Avery never failed. He was the wonder of the financial world, a touchstone of success that had everyone crowding around him. If he wanted the helicopter to come back, it would come back. Even if he had to buy it.

“We’re out of luck,” he said seconds later, turning back to the table.

“What are you talking about? Are they too busy? Will they come later?”

“I have no idea. The phone is dead.”