Sweet Talk Read online

  Sighing heavily, she dropped the drape and returned to her bed. Almost constantly thinking about Reed, in one context or another, was terribly disturbing, but she didn’t seem able to break the pattern. It was, in fact, becoming a troubling habit.

  But she had only herself to blame. True, he should not have rushed to her rescue every time he’d imagined her needing rescue, but something told her that a sensible reason for shooting off her mouth at the cabin and then compounding that self-degradation by sleeping with him would forever elude her.

  Then, of course, she’d tried to turn back the clock by being mean and nasty to him, and it hadn’t worked. Despising herself hadn’t worked, either. She had attempted to despise Reed, but whenever she concentrated on that effort, her foolish brain dredged up memories of the other night—his tender but passionate lovemaking, his eyes looking at her with exquisite adoration, his scent, the distinctive quality of his voice.

  In a sudden burst of anger, Val pounded her pillow. She had not been longing for a man! She hadn’t even thought about sex—not in a good way, not in a yearning way—in years, so why now? Why had she been so damn easy?

  It was a long time before she fell asleep again.

  Val was outside when the phone rang. She left the snow shovel leaning against the house and hurried inside to answer.

  “Hello, this is Dr. Fairchild.”

  “Val, it’s Jim. Are you snowed in, honey?”

  “I was…sort of. But I’ve been outside shoveling the walks.”

  “Now you should have known I’d be happy to drive to town and clear those walks.”

  “I did know it, Jim, but I wanted to get my blood pumping this morning, and I couldn’t resist doing it myself. I’m almost finished, and you are not to worry about me. And please don’t get Estelle all upset because I actually got off my butt for an hour or so to get a little exercise.”

  Jim laughed. “You’re mighty hard on yourself, Doc.”

  “I should be, and so should you and Estelle. I’ve leaned on you two far too much. Before I got sick I did everything around here, Jim, and it didn’t hurt me in the least.”

  “I know, but you’ve gone through quite an ordeal and—”

  “And I had you and Estelle and Jinni to help me through it. Jim, dear friend, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine and you and Estelle are to stay home and enjoy your Sunday, all right?”

  “Well…if you’re sure. Oh, the forecast is for more snow, in case you haven’t heard.”

  “I hadn’t, but when I’m done outside I’m going in for some breakfast and the morning newspaper. I’m sure the Rumor Mill has the weather forecast for the coming week.”

  “Yes, it does. Well, if you’re sure you don’t need us today, Estelle and I will see you tomorrow.”

  “’Bye, Jim.”

  Val went back outside and finished clearing her sidewalks. It was a bright and shining morning. Cold, yes, but she was warmly dressed and not at all uncomfortable. The sun was out, making the snow gleam, and the sky was so blue it hurt her eyes to look at it. Montana was rarely gloomy, even during winter months.

  After putting away the snow shovel, Val went inside, got out of her heavy clothes, washed up and then made some coffee, scrambled eggs and toast. She sat at the kitchen table with her breakfast and the Sunday paper. For the first time since her misadventures at the cabin, she wasn’t thinking about Reed or suffering over her wanton and bordering-on-asinine behavior.

  Spreading the paper out to read the front page while eating, she saw a headline: Identification Unknown!

  Val read the article below it:

  An elderly man was brought to the Family Clinic by a deputy early Saturday morning during the worst of Rumor’s first blizzard of the season. The man carried no identification and, according to doctors at the clinic, is unable to identify himself. His age is estimated at seventy to eighty years, he has long gray hair and a beard, and his height is approximately six feet.

  The sheriff’s department is eagerly seeking anyone who might have knowledge about this man. It has been suggested that he could be Robert Jackson, the man who lived on Logan’s Hill prior to the fire. If his description is familiar, please contact either the sheriff’s department or the Family Clinic.

  Val’s phone rang just as she got to the end of the article. It was Jinni.

  “Did you read the paper yet?” her sister asked.

  “I’m in the process, but I saw the front page article.”

  “Well, we’re all hoping someone knows Mr. Jackson well enough to identify him. Plus, Max has been in contact with several specialists in the field of geriatrics. He’s trying to arrange for one or more of them to come to Rumor and examine our mystery man, so now everyone has stopped talking about moving him from the clinic to Whitehorn, or somewhere else.” Jinni paused, then asked, “Are you eating?”

  Val had been nibbling on a bite of scrambled egg. “It’s okay. I can eat and talk at the same time.”

  “I just wanted to keep you updated.”

  “I’m glad you called.”

  “You sound a little more upbeat today. Are you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I shoveled the sidewalks this morning.”

  “You did? Isn’t that too strenuous for you?”

  “Not according to my doctors. They released me without any activity restrictions. Besides, I can tell for myself that I’m doing well.”

  “Val, I get all weepy when you say something as wonderful as that.”

  “That’s ’cause you’re a softy with a heart the size of Chicago. Jinni, sometimes I’m so thoughtless and rude I hate myself afterward. I apologize for being such a shrew to you and everyone else.”

  “You’ve got good reason, sweetie. A whole list of good reasons, actually. So, what’re you going to do today?”

  “Putter around. Nothing earthshaking. Why? What are you doing today?”

  “A lot of praying, I think. The Cantrells are so certain of Guy’s innocence that I’ve started believing in it, too. Max is tied up with the lawyers again, and Michael is hanging around the fringes of their conversations, so I’ve been thinking of attending church this morning. Why don’t you come with me? I could pick you up and we could ride together.”

  “What time is it?” Val twisted around to see the digital clock on the microwave. “I haven’t showered, but I think I could make it. Yes, I’d love to attend church service with you.”

  “I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  Val gulped down the rest of her eggs, set the dishes in the dishwasher and then hurried down the hall to her bathroom. She showered while looking forward to a pleasant hour in the community church with her sister.

  She could putter later.

  Reed had morning coffee with his folks, answered their questions on how his SUV had gotten smashed, and then listened to them discussing the article in the newspaper about the mystery man at the clinic.

  “Someone must know Mr. Jackson well enough to identify him,” Carolyn mused. “Stratton, did you ever meet him?”

  “Not that I can recall,” he replied.

  “He’s no youngster,” Carolyn said thoughtfully, “so some of our older citizens might know him. I wonder how long he lived on Logan’s Hill before the fire. Reed, do you know how long he lived out there all by himself?”

  “Afraid not,” Reed answered.

  “And where on earth did he live after his house was burned to the ground?” his mother continued. “This is very strange.”

  Reed finished off his second cup of coffee and got to his feet. “I have to leave. Thanks for the coffee and the company, as usual.”

  “Goodness, you’re running off so soon?” Carolyn said, showing her surprise.

  “I have things to do, Mom. Talk to you later, Dad.” He smiled at his parents and left the breakfast room. Before he reached the front door his smile had vanished. He felt sympathy for the Cantrell family and understood how importan
t learning the identity of the mystery man could be to them, but he had a mystery of his own to deal with and its name was Valerie Fairchild.

  He’d put in a lousy night, tossing and turning, and battling nightmares when he did manage to fall asleep, and then staring at the shadowy ceiling when he woke up again. Debates and arguments and piles of advice had whirled in his brain for hours. Now, as he drove home, the same arguments played out in his beleaguered brain.

  Get over it! Get over her!

  No, wait, she’s afraid of something. She came out of hiding, revealed her true self at the cabin, then resented it in the morning.

  Well, she sure can’t still be afraid of the insane jerk that held her hostage for sixteen hours, can she?

  Maybe not him, exactly, but what about men in general, because of him?

  Reed sat up straighter. Was that it? Was she afraid of men, leery of him, because of that one long-ago incident? Yes, it must have been sheer terror for her, a horrifying experience no woman would ever forget. But she was letting it ruin any real chance of happiness she might have with a man who truly loved her. Happiness with him! Reed knew in his soul that he could make her happy, if she would just let him try.

  He was suddenly alive and humming again. He’d figured out Val, he was positive of it. She had kept to herself and shut out men for years and years because of that one awful experience.

  But he knew she had feelings for him, in spite of her determination to keep him at arm’s length. She had sent the flowers, along with that very special card. She had invited him to her home—possibly in a moment of weakness that she regretted afterward, which could be the reason she had gone off to the mountains. But for a few minutes, at least, she had cared enough about him to let him know it.

  He sucked in a breath and felt emotion stinging the backs of his eyes. He would not desert her. He had to help her get over the past. If ever a woman needed rescuing, possibly from life itself, it was Val, and he loved her and would do just about anything to put a genuinely warm smile on her beautiful face.

  When he walked into his house he went directly to the telephone and called his friend Derek Moore in New York City. Knowing Derek as he did, Reed was counting on receiving some good advice from his attorney pal. Fortunately, Derek was at home and answered on the third ring.

  He sounded surprised—and pleased—to hear from Reed. “So, how are you?” Derek asked.

  “Fine…to a point. Derek, I need some information. I have a friend. I believe I mentioned her when you were in Billings a few weeks back. About ten years ago she was held at gunpoint by some bonehead for sixteen hours, I think it was. It happened in a pet store in New York City. Her name is Valerie Fairchild, but that’s about the only inarguable fact I have on the incident. I desperately need to know more. In particular, I need to find out if that jerk is still in prison.”

  “Then there was a trial and a sentence,” Derek said. “That makes researching the case a little easier. Reed, I’ll do what I can and let you know what I find out.”

  “I know you have friends in the police department, Derek.”

  “Some very good friends. Don’t worry, I’ll dig out any available information on the case. Give me a day or two, though, all right?”

  “Absolutely all right, and send me a bill for your time.”

  Derek laughed. “Hey, I can do an old friend a favor without billing him, okay?”

  “Well, I’d be happy to pay the price, Derek, and you know I can afford it.”

  “That’s not the point, old sod. Now, tell me, what else is going on in Montana?”

  During an especially moving prayer, delivered by Pastor Rayburn, Val reached for her sister’s hand and held it. It was an emotional moment and Val thanked God for the closeness she and Jinni now enjoyed. In all her life—before the past few months—Val had never felt close to a living soul—not her parents, not Jinni, not any so-called friends. How wonderful that Jinni had found Max. This magical sensation of truly loving and knowing and trusting a person through and through must be similar to what Jinni felt for her husband, Val thought.

  She wasn’t positive of that conclusion, however, and during the drive from church after the service was over, she brought it up. “Jinni, tell me if I’m being too nosy, but what’s it like to fall in love…and actually know it’s love?”

  “Could you possibly be feeling some unusual symptoms and wondering if the disease might be love?” Jinni teased.

  “Absolutely not!” Val said quickly, flushing to the roots of her hair.

  Her sister laughed. “You know what they say about people who protest too adamantly.”

  “Jinni, I am not falling in love! I only had a special feeling of closeness to you during that final prayer, and it started me thinking about what you must feel for Max.”

  “All right, sorry I teased you. When I first started feeling giddy around Max, I wondered if it was more than chemistry and would last. Sexual attraction seems to be the first symptom of love, and we certainly had that. I recognized it right off, but I’m not sure Max did. Anyhow, we laughed together, too. Not at first. Actually, at first I laughed a lot and I think Max thought I was sort of nutty. Which I am, poor guy. He’d never met anyone like me before, and he didn’t immediately succumb to my charms. But gradually—or maybe not so gradually, now that I think about it—we both realized what it meant.”

  “Gradually but not so gradually. That’s a pretty confusing description, Jinni.”

  Her unique laugh rang out again. “It is, isn’t it? I’m sorry, Val, it’s just hard to put feelings into words.”

  “Yes, it is,” she murmured.

  Jinni turned into Val’s driveway and left the engine idling while she turned in the seat to look at her sister. “Something happened between you and Reed at the cabin, didn’t it? Something more than sex?”

  “A lot happened,” Val said, almost sadly. “None of which I understand.”

  “He likes you, Val. Why else would he risk his own neck to make sure you survived a blizzard?”

  “Possibly because that’s what he does? Just for the hell of it? You said you were sort of nutty. Well, so is he. Everyone is in their own way, I suppose, but he’s a little weirder than most.” Val frowned, bit down on her lower lip and looked out the side window of the car, then said in a husky, uneasy voice, “I don’t know what to make of him.”

  Jinni reached out and laid her hand on her sister’s arm. “Sweetie, I think it would be more accurate to say that you don’t know what to make of feelings that you haven’t allowed to see the light of day for far too many years. Dare I say something like that? You know I want only the best for you.”

  “I do know that,” Val whispered. She forced a smile and looked at her sister. “Don’t worry, I’ll work it all out.”

  “Of course you will. It’s not easy for anyone, you know. Falling in love can be darn scary.”

  “Jinni, I am not falling in love!” Val opened the door and got out. “Thanks for inviting me along. I enjoyed the service. And please call me if anything breaks on the mystery man at the clinic.”

  “Will do. See you later.”

  Sunday dragged for Val. By the middle of the afternoon she had done all the puttering around the house that she could stand. Pulling on a jacket, she walked over to the Animal Hospital to check on the dogs and cats in the kennels.

  The dogs barked joyously when they heard her footsteps, and she spent some time with each one, petting and talking to them. Some were recovering from treatment, some were boarded while their master or mistress was away from the area, but all of them were lonely, and if there was one thing Val understood, it was loneliness.

  After the dogs, she went to the Cat House and played with the cats. Cats and dogs were so different from each other, she thought. Every single one of the dogs had begged for attention, but only a couple of the cats welcomed her touch. A lot like people. Certainly men and women are vastly different. Reed is like a big, friendly dog and I’m the cat, squeezing int
o myself, trying not to show interest in anything around me. Feeling rather silly about comparing people to pets, Val thought of the role animals had played in her life.

  She loved all animals, and one of the saddest events of her teen years had been a trip to the circus. She had been so excited about it, so brimming with anticipation, so looking forward to seeing the elephants doing their tricks. But she had sat and cried because those beautiful elephants had the saddest eyes she had ever seen. They were miserably unhappy in captivity, forced to do ridiculous tricks for ridiculous people, and Val had wanted to stand up and scream at the crowd, “Doesn’t anyone else see the pain and anguish of these animals?”

  She had never gone to another circus, and during high school and college she had become very active in animal rights groups.

  About an hour later Val walked back to the house. The sun was gone and a light sprinkling of snow had begun to fall. She felt as lonely as the pets in her kennels, and blamed Reed for that, as well. Oh, she’d been lonely many times during her years in Rumor, but she had never dwelled on the feeling. She had, in fact, believed that she was as content as she would ever be—could ever be—and now she feared that contentment was just another word. Reed, with his passionate eyes and kisses, had caused that. She had let him know from the very beginning that she wasn’t interested and never would be, and he had refused to leave her alone. Now she was paying for his stubbornness, when he was the one who should be doing the paying.

  Suddenly, a frighteningly familiar wave of weakness struck her. She lost all the strength in her legs and sank to the sidewalk, on her knees. Tears sprang to her eyes. She’d thought she was over these spells; the last one had been that day in MonMart, sometime ago. Obviously she couldn’t count on good health, and she recalled—with a painful wince—boasting to Jinni about feeling so well that morning. Bragging a bit to Jim on the phone, as well. Surely exerting herself a bit by shoveling snow hadn’t brought this on?