Love's Own Reward Page 6

  She’d never awakened beside a man before. Asleep, Jess McMasters was beautiful. Relaxation erased all the sharper angles from his face, and the curve of lashes resting softly upon his cheeks lent a heart-clutching sweetness to contrast with his rough morning stubble. She’d headed for the kitchen in a mad dash, seeking its frustrations to distract her from a more subtle agitation. Then he’d kissed her again, just a brief brush of his lips that branded her brow like a hot iron. Didn’t he know what damage he could do with such casual intimacies? Suddenly she was glad for the pain in her hands so that she had something on which to concentrate other than the way Jess’s gray sweatpants clung in sculpting swells whenever he moved. For heaven’s sake, she was a scientist. It wasn’t as though human anatomy held any mysteries for her. Still . . .

  “Here you go.”

  Charley glowered enviously at the puffy omelet that oozed diced potatoes, peppers, onions, and grated cheese. He puzzled over her reaction.

  “Not hungry?”

  “It would be like destroying a work of art,” she observed with a wry twist to both words and smile. “How did you learn your way around the kitchen?”

  “Self-preservation. I enjoy a good meal, so I had to make do. I think of it as therapeutic, you know, all that mashing and chopping. Great way to relieve stress. In warmer weather, I grow my own vegetables and parsley.” He paused with a hesitant pride of accomplishment. “I like digging around in the dirt. Bet you think that’s a silly thing for a grown man to admit to.”

  Somebody had. That was all too apparent as he awaited her response. He was coiled defensively for her opinion. Guarded shadows clouded his stare. Who had hurt him with their scorn? Charley vowed right then she wouldn’t follow suit.

  “No,” she said softly, warmly. “I don’t think it’s silly at all. Spoken by a woman who watches bacteria multiply for a living.”

  “Ah, so that explains the inside of your refrigerator.”

  “Very amusing.” She was more than willing to let him tease her if it would bring back the animation of a moment before. She took a bite of his creation and savored it. “This is great. A man who can cook and cultivate. Your wife was one lucky woman.”

  The light went out of him. Her thoughtless words pulled the plug. So that was it. Now Charley knew who had torn the heart and soul from Jess McMasters. And she felt an overwhelming dislike for the woman she’d never met.

  “No. Sue liked to eat out. She didn’t have time to watch water boil.” His voice was chillingly quiet. With his stare focused on his plate, Jess ate in silence for several minutes while Charley struggled for something to say. How she wished she was clever at conversation. Never had she felt so inadequate as at this moment when she wanted desperately to reach out to him.

  “I’m sorry, Jess,” she murmured in an uneasy attempt at compassion. He looked up at her with a tight-lipped smile. The raw sorrow of that look broke her heart.

  “Hey, it’s no big thing.”

  Of course it was.

  “Any children?” Charley blundered onward, then cursed her clumsiness.

  He shook his head. “No. She didn’t have time for that, either. I like kids. I think of them as smart little adults who haven’t formed any bad habits yet.”

  Charley felt an urge to cry. What kind of woman could turn away from this treasure of a man? If he was hers . . . She severed the thought she had no business thinking. He wasn’t hers. He wouldn’t be hers. There was no point in continuing the hypothesis.

  “It’s Friday,” he announced suddenly. “Got plans for the weekend?”

  “Other than changing my name and identity to escape the press?”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “Yeah.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m tired of hiding out. I have to pull myself together and face them with some answers. Only problem is, I seem fresh out of them. I have to be at a civic award presentation the Monday after next, and just thinking about it gives me hives. I’m not good at public speaking. I’m basically a social washout when it comes to people.”

  Jess started to scoff. Then he saw the very real distress in her averted gaze. So he shifted gears.

  “Isn’t there someplace you can go for the weekend? Sort of a mini-vacation to let things cool down around here? By the time you get back, you’ll be old news, and they’ll have moved on to something else. Then you’ll have a nice quiet week to work on your speech.”

  “You think so?”

  She sounded so hopeful that he almost caved in with guilt. Almost. His smile was smooth and convincing. “Sure. That’s the way these things work. Where can I take you?”

  She had an idea but quickly dismissed it. “No, I can’t ask you. You’ve done too much already. I’m sure you have better things . . .”

  “Not a thing. Honest.”

  What about the sultry-voiced Joanne and your other panting girlfriends? She didn’t say it. Suddenly she was arrogantly pleased to have surpassed them in his attention. That should have been warning enough for her to back away from his offer. She shouldn’t have cared where she stood in Jess’s rankings.

  “A weekend away.” How good that sounded. And she did know just the place where she could regroup and return to take a stand before the press. She remembered the barrage at the hospital and tried to hold to that confidence. If only she wouldn’t freeze up. Like hounds, they could scent fear and would be merciless. She could feel her stomach tensing, readying for a blow. Then Charley forced a redeeming breath. She wouldn’t think about it now. That was three days away. Three days for her to heal and grow stronger. A real hero. She was smirking when Jess called her on her thoughts.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I was just thinking how cowardly I am. Those reporters are going to be very disappointed when I get lockjaw.”

  “Hire a press secretary to handle it for you,” he suggested noncommittally as he began to clear the table.

  “But that would cost—”

  “What do you care? You can afford it.” That sounded almost angry, and Charley looked to him for an explanation, but he’d already turned toward the kitchen.

  “I have other plans for the money.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’ll show you. Pack a bag.”

  THEY WERE STILL there. Jess counted one, two, no, three of them lingering outside the apartment complex. He cut the engine, glad he’d insisted Charley stay at his place while he went to fetch her things. She was going to attempt a shower. Better he not be there. He’d be too tempted to offer his assistance. After she’d gone to putty in his arms over that kiss, he knew it was wiser to keep his distance.

  “Hey, Jonesy. Kind of far from home, aren’t you?” he called to the cameraman who was cooling his heels at the complex’s security door.

  “Hi, J.T. Same goes for you. What are you doing here?”

  He dangled a set of keys. “Visiting a friend.” He let go a wolfish grin and the other man laughed.

  “Lucky you.”

  “What’s going on?” Jess gestured to the others with a lift of his brows.

  “Oh, some celebrity story. We’re beginning to call her the Invisible Woman.” His gaze sharpened as Jess unlocked the door. “Hey, how about letting us slip in with you.”

  Jess smiled. “That wouldn’t be ethical.”

  “Ethical? Since when do you give a hang about ethics, you son of a—”

  Jess pulled the door shut until, he heard the firm sound of its lock.

  The phone in Charley’s apartment was ringing when he opened the door. In two long strides he reached it. “Hello?”

  There was a pause, then a clipped voice. “I’d like to speak to Charlene.”

  “She can’t come to the phone right now. She’s . . . busy.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Who is th
is?” Jess could imagine Alan Peters seething with fury, and it pleased him to no end. The line went dead. Grinning, he replaced the receiver and went to pack Charley a bag.

  “WHERE ARE WE going?”

  Jess thought it a logical question since he was behind the wheel and she was dozing contentedly in the seat beside him. It helped to concentrate on the road. It distracted him from the memory of how she’d looked coming out of his bathroom with her hair wet and sleek and her soft curves concealed by the generous folds of his Lions jersey. That had knocked him for a loop, and he’d yet to stop spinning. He was very particular about the ladies he allowed in his shower in the a.m. hours, and Charley looked so at home that it would be easy to slip into the routine of thinking she belonged. That he had to avoid. By the end of the weekend he would have all his answers. He would say goodbye and write his story, then go on to something else. Because that’s what he did for a living. And Charley couldn’t be more to him than just another interview.

  Except she already was.

  From the moment she’d run back to that burning car, she was already more to him than he could comfortably admit.

  Charley opened her eyes and glanced around for landmarks. “Almost there. Take the next exit.” Then she closed her eyes again. Jess had talked her into taking one of her pills, and it gave her a nice numbing aura of serenity. She let her mind drift until she heard Jess downshift and the sound of a different paving material grinding beneath the wheels. “Take a left. It’s just up ahead. Turn at the arch.”

  Jess followed her directions and was soon pulling into a neat compound of log buildings set back into the pines. “Looks like Boy Scout camp.”

  “You were a Boy Scout?”

  “Where do you think I learned to be such a—”

  “Resourceful kind of guy.” She grinned and straightened in the seat. “I don’t think it was from the Boy Scouts.”

  As the car rolled to a stop, they were approached by a slightly-built man. His features split in a broad smile as he recognized Jess’s passenger.

  “Charley! How’s my girl?”

  She stepped out of the car and right into the man’s arms. Jess got out a bit slower and observed the two as they hugged enthusiastically. Something gnawing and unpleasant twisted in his belly and knotted up around his throat. His eyes narrowed into glittery slits. Who was this guy? Another boyfriend? Someone whom she trusted enough to come to for refuge. Jess had grown used to being the one she depended upon, and he wasn’t sure he liked the invasion of territory.

  Then the young man looked over at him curiously and Jess’s hostility melted. He didn’t need to be introduced. The similarity was striking between brother and sister.

  “Robert, this is Jess McMasters. Think you can put us up for the weekend?”

  Robert advanced around the front of the car with his hand extended. His clasp was firm. “Hi, Jess. Yeah, sure, Charley. It’s not the Ritz, but then our rates are better. Grab your gear and follow me.”

  Jess got their bags and walked behind the two Carters. So this was the brother. He didn’t look like someone suffering from an incurable disease. There was too much spontaneous life to Robert Carter. He was small and wiry, nearly sizzling with energy. And Jess liked him immediately, just as Charley had predicted. There was a direct, “don’t hand me any crap” attitude about him that Jess admired in a man, and if he wondered over this stranger’s relationship with his sister, he passed no judgment. At least, not yet.

  Jess stepped into Robert’s cabin and said the first thing that came to him. “Wow!” From the outside the structure seemed small, but inside, the spaces soared to an awe-inspiring peak of rounded logs, glass, and fieldstone. One whole wall was windows, interrupted by a huge stone fireplace. Before its hearth lay a sheepskin rug, and Jess was taken by the wildly erotic image of Charley stretched out naked on that fleecy nap with the firelight bronzing her skin. He hauled his stare away from that site of wicked fantasy to study the rest of the cabin.

  The ground floor was one big room with a loft over the kitchen and eating area. The decor was rugged Adirondack rough-cut logs and boldly-woven geometries. It was a place where a man could lose himself to leisure and long, quiet nights, and Jess fell in love at first sight. He could picture himself busy at the computer keyboard in the overhead loft and Charley down here waiting for him in front of a roaring fire with a meal of cheese, bread, and wine—something she didn’t have to cook. It was a wonderfully vivid illusion, and it did funny, cramping things inside his chest.

  “That all right with you, Jess?”

  “What?” He turned to Robert and was dismayed to feel heat crawl up his neck and cheeks. It wasn’t as though the man knew what he was thinking about his sister. Or was it too obvious to everyone but Charley?

  Robert smiled tolerantly. “I said you can bunk down here on the couch, and Charley can take my room upstairs. I’ll find other accommodations.” He gave a bawdy wink, and Jess grinned in response. Yeah, he liked Robert Carter just fine.

  As Jess gave his bag a toss toward the end of the couch, a loud bell gonged.

  “Just in time for lunch,” Robert announced. “Come on. We can’t keep the tribe waiting.” At Jess’s puzzled look, he asked, “What has Charley told you about this place?”

  “Nothing.”

  Robert gave his sister a severe glower. “Well, I hope you weren’t expecting a luxury resort. Welcome to Camp Carter. I like to think of it as juvenile diabetes boot camp. C’mon. I’ll introduce you to the troops.”

  The troops were a group of adolescents and preadolescents who, if lunch was any indication, were as rowdy as any other kids their age. The teenage boys shook his hand with grown-up sobriety, and the girls were outrageous flirts. He’d catch them staring at him and grin to send them into gales of nervous giggles. The place had a charming atmosphere that was a mixture of Scouting and the marines; strict regiment wrapped up in relaxed good humor. Robert was the driving force. That was plain to see. The kids were drawn to him as if he were some kind of smiling messiah. He treated them with a gruff affection and controlled his small staff with a velvet fist. He would have done any general proud.

  Over the midday meal the troops were lectured on the proper quantity and content of the food on their plates in jovial but nonetheless serious fashion by a pretty brunette. From the looks she cast at Robert, Jess figured out where Charley’s brother meant to find lodgings and said so to Charley while they were walking alone in the vast wooded acres stretching out behind the cluster of cabins. She looked properly shocked at first, then had to agree.

  “Rob’s always liked the ladies. I think he feels pressured to enjoy them as much as possible in case later on he can’t.”

  Jess wanted to ask what she meant by that, but her expression had gone so sad and introspective that he opted for silence instead. They walked for a time on the soggy bed of pine needles until they came abruptly to a clearing. There in its center was a small, crystal-clear pond, and on the other side Jess could see the cabins of the camp. They must have gone halfway around. It was a beautiful spot. He could picture the kids squealing and splashing in the water during the warm summer months. He drew in a deep lungful of cool spring air, tasting the tang of pine and loamy earth.

  “This is paradise,” he declared quietly. When Charley shot him a wondering glance, he grinned self-consciously. “I was born and raised in inner-city Chicago. I was sixteen before I found out that grass was nature’s ground covering instead of concrete. So humor me if I go all gushy on you.”

  Charley smiled warmly up at him, and his heart staggered. It was more than he could take, this pristine place, this enigmatic woman. He dragged his stare away from hers to look out over the small lake, trying to dredge up some degree of control. Just when he thought he was successful, she delivered a one-two punch to put him out for the count.

  “Remember when you
asked what I was going to do with the money?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled cautiously.

  “It’s going here, in this land, in those kids, in my brother’s dream.”

  Six

  “FOR AS LONG AS I can remember, Robert’s been talking about a place where kids could go to come to terms with their illness. I don’t know how different things might have been for our family if we’d had one when Robert was diagnosed.”

  They had come to a weatherworn gazebo situated to give the best view of the lake. Jess imagined the sunsets would be gorgeous from this angle. Charley leaned her elbows on one of the rails and stared wistfully across the water toward the cabins.

  “Our family fell apart,” she said sadly. “You can’t imagine how awful it was.” Jess came to stand beside her, not touching but close enough to lend support. “It hit him when he was twelve. He and Dad had been inseparable. Dad saw him as having a career in the family business. Dad’s chance for immortality. They spent all their time together doing man-things, you know. Then one day Robert went from a healthy, athletic boy ready to carry on my father’s dreams to the critical list at the hospital. His pancreas had shut down, and his blood sugar shot through the roof. No warning or explanation. That was the hardest on Dad. No one could tell him why. Type I isn’t inherited. It’s nongenetic and spontaneous. There’s no known cause and no cure. There’s been speculation that it’s caused by a virus with a link to chicken pox or mumps, but the virus can’t be isolated. Dad blamed himself, then Mom, then the whole world. He finally just took off after Robert had been home for a couple of months. He couldn’t handle it. Dammit, Jess, none of us could.”

  He put his hand on the back of her neck, gently massaging the wads of tension knotting there, coaxing her by his silence to continue.

  “Mom overreacted, too, in the other direction. She smothered Robert, fussed over him every minute of the day. The entire focus of her life was on how much he ate and when and what his sugar level was and did he get his insulin. She was a complete wreck. No one could convince her that Robert wasn’t going to die at any second. Everything we did revolved around him.”