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Page 24


  Her brutal self-analysis vanished when Reed reappeared. He had the blanket-wrapped child in his arms, and Val walked toward the Stowes, watching closely to see if the little girl was all right. Reed handed her to her sobbing mother.

  “She’s fine, Mrs. Stowe,” he said. “She’s just scared. I found her under the table in the laundry room.”

  “Oh, my baby!” Shannon peeked from under the blanket, looked at everyone staring at her, and then smiled. The relief of the crowd was almost tangible, and Val saw tears on more than one face.

  Reed glanced in Val’s direction, and he couldn’t seem to stop looking. Nor could he prevent his legs from taking him toward her. She, too, began walking…toward him! He could barely swallow the massive lump in his throat. What was she doing here? Why was she looking at him with…dare he call her soft and womanly expression affection?

  “Reed,” she said after hiccuping away a sob.

  “Val,” he breathed huskily. “Do you know this family?”

  “I…think so. But I’m here because of you. You’re the most courageous person, the most wonderful man I’ve ever known and…and I’m in love with you.”

  He couldn’t speak. His heart was pounding so loudly he could barely hear. He wanted to take her by the arm and lead her away from the fire, away from the crowd, but instead he said quietly, “I can’t do this now. Go home. I’ll come by.”

  The ache in Val’s chest hung on, but something told her there was relief in sight. “Don’t worry about the time,” she said a bit raggedly, looking directly into his glorious green eyes. “I’ll be waiting.” She watched him hurry off. He had a fire to extinguish, a job to do, and she loved him for being the kind of man who cared so much for other people that he was forever rescuing someone from something.

  Even from themselves, she thought as she returned to her car. If anyone had ever needed assistance in figuring out who she was, it was Dr. Valerie Fairchild. Without Reed, would it have ever happened?

  She drove by the Cantrell mansion, congratulated Guy and the rest of the family, said hello to the punch-drunk lawyers—more like champagne-drunk lawyers, she thought drolly—then pulled Jinni into another room and explained why she wasn’t staying.

  “Reed’s at the fire. Did you hear the sirens? Anyhow, he’s coming by my place when it’s out. I…I told him I’m in love with him,” she said softly.

  Jinni looked at her sister for a moment, got tears in her eyes and threw her arms around Val. “I’m so happy…so happy.”

  Val wasn’t sure what she was. Scared, yes. Nervous, definitely. After all, just because she had finally faced her feelings for Reed didn’t guarantee he still wanted her. She’d been terribly mean to him, and not all men could forgive the kind of treatment he’d received. The waiting was going to be terrible, but maybe she deserved to suffer for a few more hours.

  It was close to midnight when Reed rang Val’s doorbell. He was on an adrenaline high; she was in love with him. She had said it right to his face, and he believed her.

  The door opened, he stepped inside, pulled her into his arms almost before she could say hi, and kicked the door shut with his foot. A second before his lips covered hers, he whispered, “I love you, too. How did this miracle happen?”

  She didn’t get to answer. One kiss followed another and then, as if by magic, they were in her bedroom. Earlier she had put on one of her luscious new nightgowns—one of the things she’d bought and then decided that she would probably never wear—a dark red satin gown with skinny straps. It was sexier than anything she’d worn for more years than she cared to admit.

  Reed pushed the straps from her shoulders and watched the red satin slither down her body to the carpet. “You’re so beautiful you take my breath away,” he told her.

  This time she believed his compliment was heartfelt and she brought him to her bed. “You set me free,” she whispered between kisses.

  He raised his head to look into her eyes. Recalling what Derek had told him, he made a decision. He would never talk about what he knew of that terrible day unless Val did first. He’d fallen hard for her the first time he’d set eyes on her, and maybe it was because he’d known instinctively that she had needed him…or someone like him.

  No, definitely not someone like him. Only him, just him. She had needed Reed Kingsley and now she had him, just as he had needed her and now he had her.

  He would ask her to marry him before morning. And if she dared to wriggle around a straightforward “Yes” by talking about the possibility of her becoming ill again, he would kiss her until she gave in. Marriage was for better or worse, in sickness and in health, and it was time she understood that he took those vows seriously.

  Of course, there were a few questions for which he’d like answers, such as the reason she’d invited him over on that fateful Friday night and then taken off for her mountain cabin.

  Whatever answers he unearthed, there was no question in his mind about his life taking a major upswing tonight.

  As for Val, if she had been any more ebullient she might have sailed away to never-never land. She giggled at the thought, then snuggled closer to her beloved. They would talk; she had so many things to say to him, but that could wait until later.

  After all, they had the rest of their lives to talk.

  Within days, Rumor, Montana, was in the news—big time. The media—representatives of major newspapers and television networks—descended upon the small town, and everywhere one looked there were TV trucks and vehicles with out-of-state license plates. Journalists, photographers and technical people crowded the town’s few restaurants, and the reporters interviewed anyone who would talk to them.

  Guy Cantrell couldn’t stick his nose out of his own house without being accosted. “Mr. Cantrell, did you really invent an invisibility formula?”

  “What are you going to do with it?”

  “Have you been offered enormous sums of money?”

  The questions were endless, and finally Guy asked Max to arrange a press conference so he could say his piece. He hoped that would be the end of it.

  It was held in the high school gymnasium, and what space wasn’t taken up by news people was used by the locals.

  Guy walked to the podium. The flashbulbs and lights nearly blinded him. He put one hand on each side of the stand and blinked at the crowd. When the noise subsided, he cleared his throat and spoke.

  “I’m a science teacher and amateur inventor. I was working on a formula for the quick healing of burns when I accidentally discovered the side effect of…of invisibility.” Dozens of shouted questions suddenly echoed in the gym. Guy held up his hand. “Please, let me finish. While I believe my invention could be of great benefit in the healing process of severe burns, it is also very dangerous, and I will not release the formula to the world until I have figured out what part of it causes the invisibility. That’s all I have to say on the subject. Good day.” He left the podium and began leaving the stage.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” someone yelled. “We heard you were offered millions from a bunch of pharmaceutical companies for that formula. Did you turn all of them down?”

  Guy stopped and faced the audience again. “Yes, and I will continue to do so. Please inform the public that this formula is not safe, nor is it for sale. I am not sure how it works, and until I am it will not be passed on to anybody.”

  “That could be dangerous in itself, Mr. Cantrell,” a female voice called. “Don’t you understand that unscrupulous people might stop at nothing to get their hands on a magic potion that causes invisibility?”

  Guy frowned, giving everyone the impression that no, he had not even thought of such a thing. “I pray that doesn’t happen,” he finally said, and disappeared behind the curtain.

  “Is that man living in the dark ages?” one reporter asked another.

  “Nope. He’s living in Rumor, Montana,” the second man quipped.

  They walked out laughing.

  Special thanks and acknowledgment
to Jackie Merritt

  for her contribution to the Montana Mavericks series.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-1291-6

  SWEET TALK

  Copyright © 2003 by Harlequin Books S.A.

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