Читать книгу Untouched - Sandra Field - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

MARYLOU chattered on about the plot twists in the daily soap operas, keeping herself between Jenessa and the mirror. The blow-drier wafted warm air around Jenessa’s ears. Then Marylou brushed her hair in place, snipping a few loose ends with her scissors. She swivelled Jenessa round to face the mirror, saying with immense satisfaction, ‘Ever since I took that last seminar I’ve been wanting to get my hands on your hair, love—not bad, eh?’

Stunned, Jenessa looked at the stranger in the glass. Her hair was now tapered over her ears, emphasizing the slender length of her neck and the shape of her eyes with their brilliant green irises, and bringing her cheekbones into new prominence; wisps of hair, polished like the cherrywood to which Ruth had compared it, softened her forehead and clung to her nape. ‘It doesn’t even look like me,’ she said stupidly.

The door creaked open. Then another reflection joined hers in the mirror: the man who was the cause of this. He was staring straight at her, dark blue eyes meeting green. He looked, she thought in utter panic, like a hunter who had caught sight of his prey.

‘Looks nice, doesn’t it?’ Marylou said complacently. ‘I won’t charge you full price, dear, because it gave me the chance to try something new. Did you say you wanted a cut, Mr Marston?’

With a palpable effort Finn dragged his gaze from Jenessa’s. ‘Just a trim,’ he said.

Jenessa got up, threw a couple of bills on the counter and croaked, ‘I’ll be at Ruth’s.’ She ran outside and across the lawn, feeling the breeze on her bare neck, and had she been asked she couldn’t have said what—or whom—she was fleeing.

In Ruth’s kitchen she skidded to a halt. Ruth, Stephen and Ruth’s mother Alice were all in the kitchen; Alice was the last person Jenessa wanted to see. If her brain had been working, she thought frantically, she would have realized Alice would have rushed straight over to Ruth’s on a fact-finding mission. Ruth said, ‘Jenessa—your hair is gorgeous!’

‘My, my,’ Alice said coyly, ‘never knew you to change your looks for a man, Jenessa. He must be someone pretty special.’

Jenessa could not begin to answer this. She reached out for Stephen, cuddling him and playing with his pudgy little fingers. ‘How’s the new tooth, sweetie?’ she babbled. ‘I’d love a cup of tea, Ruth. Stevie’s getting home tonight, isn’t that what you told me?’

‘No,’ said Ruth, ‘I never told you that. He’s not back until next week.’ Taking pity on her friend, she said firmly, ‘Mum, why don’t you run home and fetch us a few doughnuts to go with our tea? You make the best doughnuts in town.’

When Alice came back a few minutes later, Jenessa was ladling cereal into Stephen’s mouth and Ruth was determinedly discussing the local by-election. But Alice was not so easily discouraged. Into the first pause in the conversation she said, ‘Looked to me like you and that handsome Finn Marston were having a tiff on the front lawn, Jenessa—I hear you’re going into the woods with him, though.’

She managed to make this latter phrase sound thoroughly clandestine. ‘I’m guiding him, yes,’ Jenessa replied. ‘Oops, Stephen, we missed that one.’

‘After all this time—when I’d just about given up on you, dearie, I might as well tell you the truth—I do believe you’re finally falling in love,’ Alice crowed.

The spoon dropped with a clatter on to the high tray, cereal spattered Jenessa’s shirt and she said with more force than wisdom, ‘I’m not in love with him; don’t be silly, Alice! He’s a rude, chauvinistic, controlling——’

She broke off, for Finn Marston had just opened the screen door and must have heard every word she’d said. Feeling a strong urge to burst into tears, she wailed, ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me—I’m never rude to my clients—it’s one of my unbreakable rules ... and I’ve got cereal all down my clean shirt! Wallpapering would be better than this.’

Finn beat Ruth to the sink, took the cloth from the dishrack and wet it under the tap. Then he advanced on Jenessa. ‘Hold still,’ he said.

‘Oh, no,’ she said warmly, ‘I’m quite capable of wiping my own shirt, thank you.’

‘You’re like a hedgehog,’ he said. ‘All prickles.’

‘There aren’t any hedgehogs in Newfoundland.’

‘There’s one right here in the kitchen.’

She yanked the cloth from his hand and scrubbed at her shirt. ‘I’m never rude to clients and I never go to beauty parlors,’ she muttered. ‘I wish I knew what was going on here.’

‘Do you really not know?’ Finn said with sudden intentness.

She glanced up. His hair, newly trimmed and entirely civilized, made his features look all the more rough-hewn; she had no idea what he was thinking. ‘No,’ she said.

He said quietly, speaking to her alone, ‘Then I’ll tell you ... I was in Tunisia once and I found an old ceramic pot buried by a dried-up pond. The pot was stained and dirty and filled with mud. So I took it back to the camp and washed it very carefully and polished it with a soft cloth—and then I saw that it had an exquisite design of tiny green birds and marsh reeds etched all around the lip. It was very beautiful.’ He looked at her, his dark blue eyes fathomless. ‘That was why I wanted your hair cut.’

A tide of hot color swept across Jenessa’s cheeks. For several seconds she was literally speechless. Then she whispered, ‘Beautiful? Me?’

‘Jenessa, where have you been all your life? Yes, beautiful.’

Alice gave a sigh of repletion. ‘My, oh, my, I wish I’d had my video camera for that,’ she said soulfully. ‘Better than Another World.’

Jenessa scarcely heard her. Like a woman in a dream she walked over to the little mirror that hung over the sink and stared at herself. She had no need of make-up, she thought. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining; she looked as fully alive as a brightly colored butterfly dancing from flower to flower in the sunlight.

Behind her Finn said abruptly, ‘We’d better go. We’ve got to figure out our route, and I need some kind of time frame so I can phone my company. Thanks for the boots, Ruth—coming, Jenessa?’

Trying to gather her wits, Jenessa dropped a kiss on Stephen’s fluffy hair, hugged Ruth and Alice, whose eyes were almost popping out of her head, and walked outside to the van. Driving gave her something to focus on, and Finn said not a word as they crossed town to the motel. She parked in front of his unit and followed him into the room. The door clicked shut behind them.

His luggage was neatly stashed against the wall, the blue shirt he had been wearing last night was hanging over the back of one of the chairs and a bundle of papers and maps had been thrown on the bed. The maps seemed to steady her; she knew about maps, knew how to read them and transpose the thin lines on the paper to the actual contours of the land. She took a deep breath and said with commendable matter-of-factness, ‘Show me where you want to go.’

He sat down on the edge of the bed, unfolding a map of the whole province as well as two detailed topographical maps. ‘We’ll fly by helicopter into this lodge,’ he said, ‘I have connections with the oil companies, and I can get a ’copter any time I want one.’

Casually Jenessa sat down beside him, one leg tucked under her, following the line of his finger to a lake well south of the highway. Her eyes widened in dismay. Caribou Lake. Of all the thousands of lakes in Newfoundland, Finn Marston wanted to go to Caribou Lake.

‘The lodge is called Caribou Outfitters. Run by a guy called Lloyd MacDonald—calls himself Mac; I’ve already talked to him. Do you know the area at all?’

‘I know it very well,’ she said raggedly.

He shot a quick look at her. ‘You’ve been there before?’

‘Many times.’ With at least partial truth she said, ‘I used to work for Mac. A couple of years ago. I don’t see why you need me if you’re going to his lodge; he has his own guides.’

‘I’m only using the lodge as a base. This is where I really want to go.’

With true incredulity Jenessa watched his finger move still further south into a network of lakes and still waters that she could have traced on the map with her eyes shut. In a cracked voice she said, ‘That’s Hilchey land—what do you want to go there for?’

‘You’re familiar with it?’

‘He’s dead—old Mr Hilchey. He died six months ago. Why do you want to see his property?’

‘I asked you a question, Jenessa—are you familiar with that land?’

She gave a short, unamused laugh. ‘I’ve walked every ridge and barren, and canoed every waterway from Caribou River to Indian Brook.’ And if she had ever hated anyone in her life, it had been George Hilchey.

Finn spread out one of the topographical maps. ‘It’s a huge area; how could you know it so well?’

The names on the map jumped out at her. Osprey Falls, Beothuck Pond, Juniper Lake. Names and places that she had discovered as a child and loved with all the passionate intensity of a child. To the east lay Spruce Pond, where she had lived with her father for thirteen years on a tiny cove in sight of two tree-clad islands; her eyes shied away from it, for she had never once gone back there and now doubted that she ever would. She said, hard-voiced, ‘Why do you want to go there, Finn?’

His mouth tightened. ‘Curiosity,’ he said.

‘That’s no kind of an answer!’

‘It’s all the answer you’re going to get. George Hilchey used to have a summer place here on this lake—I want to visit it, and check out the area while I’m there.’

‘I wish you’d told me this last night,’ she said tautly. ‘It would have saved both of us a lot of trouble. For reasons that are nothing to do with you, I can’t possibly go there.’

His eyes narrowed, the force of his will-power like a blast of cold wind. ‘You’ll go,’ he said.

‘One of Mac’s guides will take you in—you’d have to go by canoe.’

‘Canoe?’

‘It’s the only way to get there.’

‘I’ve never been in a canoe in my life!’

‘A new experience for you,’ she said ironically.

‘Jenessa, in case you haven’t heard of them, there’s a marvellous twentieth-century invention called a float plane. It lands on lakes. This place is riddled with lakes.’

‘You see these crosses on the lake? Those are rocks. Big rocks. They don’t bother marking all the little ones. Plus there are deadheads in those waters—submerged logs—from the days of the log jams on the rivers. No pilot in his right mind is going to risk a float plane on those waters.’

‘We’ll take the helicopter in.’

‘No clearings. Hilchey’s summer place hasn’t been used in twenty years—the alders will have taken over.’

‘For God’s sake!’ Finn exploded. ‘It’ll take days to get in there by canoe.’

‘A week, I’d say.’

‘Then another week to get out—I haven’t got that kind of time to waste.’

She shrugged, tamping down a mixture of emotions too complicated to analyze. ‘Have the helicopter fly low over the land; that should satisfy your curiosity. It’ll cost you a small fortune, mind you. Although,’ she added with a touch of malice, ‘you’ll be saving seven hundred a week.’

‘But you’re saying the ’copter can’t land at the summer house.’ He got up from the bed, prowling round the room like a caged bear. ‘Couldn’t you get there in less than a week?’

She shook her head. ‘That’s back country ... a strong wind can easily hold you up for a couple of days. Besides, if your guide has any sense, he’ll keep you two or three days at the lodge learning the essentials of canoeing before you set out. There’s whitewater on some of those rivers, and you’re miles from anywhere.’

He glared at her. ‘So now it’s three weeks!’

‘Finn,’ she said curiously, ‘how long is it since you’ve taken a holiday?’

‘I forget.’

‘The wilderness has its own time scheme. Dawn and dusk, winds and rain ... you can’t force it or control it.’

‘I don’t think you understand—I run a multi-million-dollar business,’ he snapped. ‘Big-league stuff.’

‘Then go back to it and forget about George Hilchey’s summer house,’ she said indifferently.

He thrust his hands in the pockets of his jeans. ‘It’s a wonder to me that none of your clients has ever shot you rather than the moose.’

Jenessa laughed, abandoning their argument, because after all it was nothing to do with her how Finn got to the old summer house. ‘One or two of them have contemplated it, I’m sure.’

Her eyes were dancing, her pose on the big bed unselfconsciously graceful. Finn took a step toward her, halted and said levelly, ‘Excuse me a minute.’

He went to the phone, punched a great many numbers, eventually said a few phrases in a language unknown to Jenessa, and finally rapped, ‘Jonah? Finn here. What’s up?’

Jenessa smoothed the map flat, fighting back a wave of nostalgia for the woods and waters of her childhood, and heard Finn say, ‘You did? On the second attempt? It fit the flange? Then it was worthwhile doing the trial run... When do you think you’ll pull out? You’ll join them in Venezuela by Thursday? Yeah ... I’m thinking of taking two or three weeks, Jonah. By the sound of it you’re coping just fine without me. If you need anything while I’m away you’ll have to go via Moswell’s helicopter and a place called Caribou Lodge; the ’copter pilot will know where that is. You did a fine job. Get Brian to keep on top of all the finances, won’t you? Okay, all the best.’

He put down the receiver and turned back to Jenessa. ‘What time can we be ready to leave?’

‘I’m not going!’

‘You agreed to guide for me. You can’t go back on that.’

‘You mean you can fire me but I can’t quit?’

Without emphasis Finn said, ‘You wouldn’t want me putting the word round that you broke a contract, would you? Even if it was only a verbal one.’

Jenessa got a lot of her work by word of mouth. In a surge of pure rage she said, ‘Is this the way you act in the business world? No wonder you made it to the top.’

‘I do what it takes. You’re going to guide me to the Hilchey place, Jenessa—I won’t take no for an answer.’ He gave her the faintest of smiles. ‘Anyway, I’ve just agreed to take my first vacation in over five years—you can’t let me down now.’

With utter clarity Jenessa thought, I have a choice here. I can stay home and wallpaper the kitchen. Safe and ordinary and boring, and if Finn blackens my name I’ll survive. Or I can risk going back to the place where I grew up. Seeing it from the perspective of an adult. I’m twice as old as I was when I left... I’m not thirteen any more, raw with pain and filled with fear. Maybe the old magic will have gone. Maybe it’ll be just another place, nothing special.

Maybe it’s time I laid that particular ghost to rest.

‘Why are you so interested in the Hilchey land?’ she demanded. ‘Are you some kind of high-powered lawyer settling the estate? Although you don’t act like any lawyer I ever knew.’

‘Not once in my life have I ever contemplated joining the legal profession,’ Finn said pithily. ‘I only wish I understood why that land’s so important to you—why you won’t tell me what your connection is with it.’

She couldn’t possibly explain it to him. As she shook her head, her green eyes wary, he said, ‘I’ll ask Ryan.’

‘Not if you value living, you won’t.’

‘I’ve stepped into something, haven’t I?’ he said slowly. ‘Something pretty major as far as you’re concerned. Maybe Mac will tell me when we get to the lodge.’

‘Mac will tell you exactly what he thinks you want to hear—he’s a master at that.’

‘And to think,’ Finn remarked, ‘that I almost didn’t come here because I figured I’d be bored.’ In one of the swift shifts of topic that she had almost come to expect of him, he added, ‘Are you afraid to spend two or three weeks alone with me?’

She raised her chin. ‘I’ve never been afraid of a man in my life.’

‘There are some you should be frightened of.’

‘You’re not one of them,’ Jenessa said, and wondered if she was speaking the truth. If her behaviour of the last eighteen hours was anything to go by, perhaps she should be afraid.

‘So what time are we leaving?’ Finn repeated softly.

One last chance to see the land she had roamed as a girl. To choose risk over safety. Biting her lip, she muttered, ‘Ryan will organize the gear but I’ll have to look after the food... I’d say by four. I’ll talk to Mac and tell him we’ll be there in time for supper.’

She was staring down at the map and missed the triumph that raced across Finn’s face. He made another phone call, arranging for the helicopter to take them to the lodge. Then he sat down on the bed again. ‘So, Jenessa Reed,’ he said, ‘we’re on. We’re spending the next two weeks together.’

The choice, she had known all along, hadn’t only been a matter of the land. Her mouth dry, she said, ‘As employer and employee.’

‘We’re already more than that, and you know it.’

Certainly she had never been so outspoken to any of her other clients. ‘That’s all we are,’ she said stubbornly.

With unexpected violence Finn said, ‘I don’t have a clue what’s going on here! But I’ll tell you one thing—you’re totally unlike any other woman I’ve ever been with. Nor, for some reason, can I believe that I only met you last night.’

Inwardly terrified, outwardly composed, Jenessa quipped, ‘You feel as if we’ve been arguing forever?’

Some of the tension eased in his face. ‘You’re certainly the most contentious woman I’ve ever met.’

‘But you said yourself the sample was small,’ she answered gently, and stood up. ‘I’d better go; I’ve got a lot to do. I’ll be back here at quarter to four.’

Finn stood up too, his body moving with a lazy grace. Very deliberately he held out his hand. ‘I’m glad we’re going to be together,’ he said.

She could not, without adding bad manners to contentiousness, refuse to shake hands with him. Reluctantly she stretched out her own. His grip was firm, his palm warm against hers. She looked down, in one glance seeing the lean length of his fingers with their well-kept nails and the dusting of dark hair on the back of his hand, where the bones and sinews moved under the tanned skin. His wristwatch with its new leather strap looked expensive. His forearm was tanned as well, corded with muscle. Then the faint tang of his aftershave drifted to her nostrils, and underlying it she caught something far more elemental and more powerful: the scent of the man himself.

She glanced up, her nerves as alert as if she had just sighted a fresh bear track on the trail, her senses acutely aware of the sound of his breathing and the warmth of his body across the space that separated them. She had touched a man before, of course she had. But never had she felt such an instinctive vigilance, so total and instant an involvement; with a lurch of her heart she found herself comparing it with the strange bond that united the hunter and the hunted. Pulling her hand free, her green eyes bewildered, she muttered, ‘Two weeks could be a very long time.’

‘It’ll be as long as we need,’ Finn said cryptically. ‘I’ll see you later.’

She hurried outdoors into the sunshine, wondering what she had gotten herself into. She had told the truth when she’d said she’d never been afraid of a man; even Mac had never really frightened her.

But Finn Marston was different. Dauntingly different.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer. And he thought she was beautiful.