In the Running Page 3

  “Bronwyn called. You all right, Matt?” The stocky man mopped his freckled forehead and peered anxiously at him.

  “I’m fine, Jeff,” Matt said. “Ms Kelly, here, is the one who’s injured.” He gave the other man an extremely brief account of the accident. “Is Bronwyn at the house yet?”

  At that moment, a dark blue van wheeled into the lot. A tall, striking woman opened the driver’s door far enough to lean out. Maura tensed. She couldn’t remember where but she was pretty sure she’d seen that black hair with its dramatic white streaks before. She stared back at the probing black eyes that were swiftly cataloguing her face. Maura recognized those eyes.

  Then, she realized they were the same jet black as Matt’s. The wave of relief that came over her was overwhelming. She had enough real trouble. She didn’t need to see danger where there was none.

  “Bring her to the house,” Bronwyn ordered, getting back inside her car and putting it in gear.

  “Bronwyn would have made a drill sergeant,” Matt said, with a reassuring smile. “But she has a good heart.”

  The smile was fleeting, but it transformed his stone face into a dangerously attractive one. She hoped he didn’t smile often. His impassive face was easier to deal with.

  “Now that you’re here,” Jeff told him, “I’ll go pick up Leigh’s boat.”

  Giving Jeff a grateful two-fingered salute, Matt followed his sister’s van past several smaller buildings to a low, rambling, log-faced house at the water’s edge. Compared to the stockade atmosphere of the rest of the complex, it looked reassuringly homey.

  “Jeff must have turned the lights on for us,” Matt said. “I hope he turned up the thermostat.”

  “You must be frozen,” Maura suddenly realized.

  She’d been vaguely aware that Matt’s jacket was wringing wet and smeared with her blood but she’d been too self-absorbed to think beyond her own discomfort. The man had to be exhausted and chilled to the bone.

  She was still fumbling with the car door when Matt opened it and reached for her. It would be nice to let him pick her up in his strong arms and hold her snugly against his chest again, but this was no time to start allowing herself to lean on people.

  Every self-protective instinct warned her that Matt could be dangerous. He was too vital, too male, too managing. He exuded the kind of animal magnetism that she had always steered clear of. “I can walk,” she made herself protest. “There’s nothing wrong with my legs.”

  Her attempt at independence fizzled. When she took her first step, a wave of dizziness hit her.

  “Yeah, sure,” Matt muttered as he swung her up into his arms.

  Bronwyn held the door open for them. The look she gave her brother was an anxious one.

  “Bring her into Dad’s room,” she said, heading towards a door at the far end of the large living room, just beyond a massive stone fireplace.

  Maura caught glimpses of comfortable-looking, chintz-covered furniture and glowing coals in the fireplace as Matt carried her through to the bedroom and deposited her gently on the bed.

  “My sister, Bronwyn Cooper,” he said, gesturing at the woman standing beside him. “And this is Maureen Kelly.”

  “Reenie,” Maura corrected.

  Bronwyn gave Maura a perfunctory smile.

  “You look frozen, Matt. Quick, have a warm shower and put on some dry clothes. Start the water lukewarm. Don’t let it get hot too quickly.”

  “Yes, Mom,” Matt growled.

  “Sorry.” Bronwyn sounded more impatient than apologetic. “You go ahead. I’ll see what I can do for Reenie.”

  Bronwyn’s words were directed at Matt, but her dark eyes were focused on Maura’s face. When Matt hesitated, his sister insisted, “You won’t do her any good by standing around here with your teeth chattering. Scoot!”

  He left.

  “You have to be firm with them,” she told Maura. One corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

  Maura knew she’d remember if she’d ever met a woman as forceful as Bronwyn. That fleeting moment of recognition outside had probably been the product of overwrought nerves.

  Bronwyn took a small flashlight out of her bag. “Look over my shoulder.”

  Looking into the bright light hurt. So did the gentle removal of the wad of gauze Matt had placed on the gash on her hairline. Bronwyn grimaced in sympathy and handed her a small mirror.

  “As you can see, I’ll have to cut some hair away to clean that. But because of the bang you took on the head, we’ll have to do it without pain killer,” she warned.

  She worked quickly with sure hands. However, it took all Maura’s will power not to whimper while Bronwyn trimmed the hair from around the cut and cleaned up the abrasions on her face, neck and left shoulder. By the time she finished, Maura was exhausted.

  Matt appeared in the doorway, his dark hair still damp from his shower. He’d obviously just finger-combed it and the stray locks curling over his forehead somehow softened the harsh lines of his face. Maura relaxed a little at the sight of him. Like it or not, he’d become her anchor in this turbulent sea that was tossing her around.

  “I’m a fair bit bigger than Reenie. Maybe something of Pete’s would fit better.”

  “No question,” she agreed. “Look in Dad’s bottom drawer. Then leave us a minute while I help Reenie change.”

  He took a folded, grey sweat suit from the drawer and handed it to Bronwyn.

  The panicky feelings that had never completely submerged resurfaced when Matt left the room, but they subsided a little when she heard his footsteps stop just outside the door. He hadn’t gone far.

  Bronwyn efficiently stripped Maura of her bloody shirt and jeans and helped her pull on the soft grey sweats. She had to roll the cuffs but they fit better than Matt’s would have.

  “That should do it.” Bronwyn briskly returned her equipment to her bag, motioned for Reenie to lie down on top of the bed and pulled a brown satin comforter up over her feet.

  The moment she opened the bedroom door, Matt appeared in the doorway. “Well?” he said.

  “She should see Dr. Walmer, Matt,” Bronwyn pronounced. “She seems to be slightly concussed. And I’ve done my best with her wounds but they probably need a few stitches. Doc could give us a better idea if she should go into hospital for observation.”

  “I don’t think so,” Maura interrupted, sitting up quickly. The room took a few seconds to settle down. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But if you wouldn’t mind taking me to the nearest motel,” she said with a satisfactory amount of assurance in her voice, “I’d get out of your hair right away.”

  “She can stay in Pete’s room, Wyn,” Matt stated as if Maura hadn’t spoken. “You said it will be a couple of weeks before he’s well enough to move home. And I know what signs to look out for. I took a shift watching Tommy after he took that tumble off the shed roof last summer. You could come back to check on her in the morning, couldn’t you?”

  “I’m not a stray puppy!” Maura broke in. It was past time she took control here. She kicked back the comforter and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “It’s my decision. And I’ve decided to leave. Thanks anyway!”

  “Sorry.” Matt looked taken aback at her explosion.

  She was a little surprised herself. She never lost her temper. She’d put up with too many flamboyant chefs who never bothered to restrain theirs. This was the second time in a few hours that she’d blown up at this generous bulldozer of a man.

  “You said you had no one to call to look after you. We still have to do something about replacing your car. And I can’t let an injured woman wander off on her own. Especially with a suspected concussion.” Matt’s tone said clearly that he was a reasonable man dealing patiently with an irrational woman.

  He was an overbearing, sexist dinosaur.

  “Reenie,” he said quietly. “Would you like to stay here for a few days until you’re well enough to be on your way?”

  She met Matt’s
eyes. She was startled by the look of concern in his eyes. He actually looked as if he cared what she did. That was when, to her dismay, she lost control.

  When Matt saw the tears beginning to well up in Reenie’s blue eyes, he wanted to run. He didn’t deal well with tears. But the moment she gave in to the first racking sob, Matt found himself by her side with one arm around her quaking shoulders. He admired the way she’d dealt with the shock and the pain of the accident without a whimper. But she had a right to cry. And she needed comforting. When she didn’t pull away from him, he wrapped both arms around her. She looked so small and battered and she felt so soft. Holding her nestled against him while she cried noisily and soaked the front of his sweatshirt felt ominously right.

  He looked at his sister and raised his eyebrows in a helpless kind of a grimace. What else could a man do?

  Common sense told him that what drew him to this little firebrand was sex, pure and simple. Parts of his anatomy that hadn’t seen much activity for more than a year were reacting predictably to the softness of her breasts against his chest. As for his unexpected compulsion to look after her… Well, why shouldn’t he feel protective? He’d been in the protecting business one way or another since he was eighteen.

  He didn’t know what he’d said that had set her off. What he’d seen of Reenie told him she didn’t cry easily. Clearly, right now, her troubles looked insurmountable to her. Even though he hadn’t done it intentionally, he had caused some of the major ones; therefore, it was his duty to help her. It was as simple as that. He was obliged to get her on her feet again and protect her from whatever danger had made her run. He’d sure sound like a pompous ass if he came out and said that. He probably was.

  For the moment, he simply held her and stroked her shaking shoulders while she cried. A little voice inside him asked if he knew how ridiculous his rationalizing was.

  “You don’t have to see the doctor if you don’t want to.” Bronwyn’s abrupt reversal didn’t surprise him. Wyn was basically kind. She was also perceptive. Right now, she was giving him a long, knowing look.

  “Matt’s right,” she went on. “There’s no reason you can’t stay right in this room for the next few days. Dad’s staying at my house while he recovers from hip surgery,” she added.

  His arms felt strangely empty when Maura disengaged herself from his embrace. She swiped the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  Obviously embarrassed, she didn’t look directly at Matt but spoke to his sister. “I’m sorry I broke down like that.”

  “It’s the shock. Most people shed a few tears after an accident,” Bronwyn assured her.

  “I will take you up on the offer of a bed for the night,” Reenie said. “Thank you.”

  “Good! You’d better get some rest now. Oh, you probably could use this,” she said, taking Reenie’s elbow and leading her towards the tiny washroom off the bedroom. “We had a shower installed in here when Dad began to have problems with the stairs but you’ll have to keep the dressings dry for a day or two.”

  A few minutes later, she tucked Reenie into bed under the down-filled comforter.

  As she left, Bronwyn said to Matt who was hovering quietly just outside the doorway, “I’ll be back in the morning, Matt. You remember the routine from last summer? Only light fluids. And wake her every hour or two.”

  Then he was alone with his unsettling guest.

  “Well, then.” His voice sounded louder than he intended when he broke the awkward silence. “I seem to have my marching orders. I’ll wake you in an hour or so.”

  Reenie’s vivid blue eyes were already drifting closed. “Thank you, Matt,” she murmured.

  The mound of comforter hid her slight frame completely. All Matt could see was her cap of dark hair and one swollen, bruised cheek against the white pillowcase. He paused a moment, shaking his head in helpless denial. The impact of that determined little woman was potent. Maybe this was his emotional reaction to the shock of the accident. He liked that explanation. It wasn’t all that believable, but he liked it.

  He left the bedroom door open and the bedside lamp on, then put a couple of seasoned maple logs on the live coals in the living room fireplace. By the time the logs burst into flames, he was on the sofa, holding the fragrant mug of hot buttered rum that he’d been promising himself since early afternoon. As he luxuriated in the radiating heat of the flames, he wondered about Reenie Kelly.

  She was definitely on the run but Matt didn’t believe it was from the law. However, she’d almost fainted when he mentioned Gus. Matt had dealt with enough criminals to know how deceptive appearances could be, but he’d give odds that Reenie wasn’t used to subterfuge. She wasn’t any good at it.

  She wasn’t wearing a ring but rings were easy to remove. He scowled. Nevertheless, she was too attractive not to have some man hovering about.

  What kind of trouble was she in? She had been frantic not to leave her purse behind. Even now, it was beside her on the bed. She hadn’t let that big tapestry bag out of her reach for a minute. What was in it? Was Reenie Kelly a thief? He was back to that again.

  He damned the whole situation to Hell and stamped out to the kitchen to throw a couple of frozen meat pies into the oven. He’d better eat something before it was time to wake the lady in question to make sure she hadn’t slipped into a coma. He’d better take out a can of chicken broth in case she wanted something when she awoke.

  He couldn’t avoid the most important question. Why was he doing any of this?

  The meat pies and the rum improved his mood slightly. He wrapped himself in a loosely woven woolen throw, put an alarm clock on the coffee table, and lay down to doze in front of the fire. He didn’t expect to get much sleep a few feet away from the disturbing woman who’d been dropped into his life. He wished he could blame someone else for this predicament, but it was his own damned stupid idea.

  Eventually, lulled by the warmth of the hardwood coals, he did drowse off. His internal alarm woke him an hour and a half later and he checked that Reenie was sleeping normally. That set the pattern for most of the night. Every time he woke her, she reacted exactly the same way.

  Her blue eyes snapped open.

  “Oh,” she gasped, rigid with terror. Then she sighed and gave him a sleepy smile. “Matt.”

  Every single time, that fleeting smile charmed him. Any man would react the same way to that kind of intimate, trusting smile from a lovely, rumpled female. He had to remind himself that the intimacy and the trust were all in his imagination. The woman was still in a state of shock. But each time, apparently satisfied that she was safe with him, she’d drop off to sleep again. Perhaps her terror was something else he’d imagined.

  Around five o’clock, Matt was awakened by a low, anguished cry. He rushed into Pete’s room to find Reenie huddled in a tight little ball in the middle of the bed. She was fast asleep and sobbing. He couldn’t make out what she was mumbling but he thought he heard the word “blood.” Then she gave that unearthly lament again and sat up holding her head.

  “Oh, no-o-o,” she whimpered. “He is dead.”

  My God! What had the woman done?

  “Who? Who is dead?” he said, bending over to touch her shoulder.

  The staring blue eyes that met his held no recognition.

  “Don’t touch me!” she cried, recoiling from him. Her legs were tangled in the bedding. When Matt grabbed her arms to keep her from landing on the floor, she twisted away from him and tried to stagger to her feet.

  “Have to get out of here. Have to…” she whispered frantically.

  Matt backed away. “Reenie. Listen,” he said quietly, wondering what he was going to do next if she didn’t snap out of this. “It’s Matt. You’re at the marina. Remember?”

  She blinked and sense slowly came back into her eyes. The wariness, however, remained.

  “You were having a bad dream.”

  Gradually, Maura realized where she was and who was speaking to her. But Matt’s voice
had lost all its warmth and he was looking at her with more than a trace of suspicion.

  The illusion of safety she had felt in the night was gone. She wished she could bolt away from the questions in Matt’s eyes but her stomach was queasy and her knees were threatening to collapse under her. She sat cautiously on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m sorry I disturbed you,” she said. “I must have been reliving the accident.”

  “No one died in the accident, Reenie.”

  Oh, God! What had she said?

  “Died?”

  “You were upset. Shocked. Because someone was dead.”

  “My dog.” She looked up quickly to see if he was buying that explanation. But who could read that poker face?

  “He was hit by a car,” she added. “Last week.”

  Matt gazed at her for a minute. She sensed something that could have been disappointment in the set of his shoulders.

  “Why don’t you try to get a couple of hours more sleep?” His voice was cold. “I’ll check on you before I head out to the boathouse.”

  Maura watched him leave the room. Was he on his way to call his friend, the sheriff, about the frightened woman he’d taken into his home? Maybe Matt would give her story about a dead dog the benefit of the doubt long enough for her to get over her dizziness.

  And go where? Jon would know the minute the local sheriff inquired about a woman of her description. Nowhere in the Houghton Lake area would be safe. Jon could find out about the cabin. Gran had never been interested enough in her rebellious son’s fishing camp to learn exactly where it was but she knew it existed.

  Maura lay back down on the bed, too dizzy and exhausted to do anything else.

  Chapter Three

  “What do you think, Jon?” Glad asked as the housekeeper who had served her for over thirty years deposited a ceramic pot of coffee on the table. Angry as he was at Glad, Jon Casen couldn’t help but admire the way she dismissed the woman with a wave of her delicate, veined hand.

  “How long will it take the police to locate her?” she continued when they were alone.