Chapter Eleven

I mean, my God! We couldn’t believe it! Our Rusty in a plane crash!”

“It must have been dreadful.”

Rusty looked up from the pillows of her hospital bed at the two well-dressed women and wished they would vanish in a puff of smoke. As soon as her breakfast tray had been carried out by an efficient and ebullient nurse, her two friends had breezed into her room.

Reeking of exotic perfume and avid curiosity, they said they wanted to be the first to commiserate. Rusty suspected that what they really wanted was to be the first to hear the delicious details of her “Canadian caper,” as one had called it.

“No, I couldn’t say it was much fun,” Rusty said tiredly. She had awakened long before breakfast was served. She was accustomed to waking up with the sun now. Thanks to the tranquilizing pill she’d been given the night before, she had slept soundly. Her lack of animation stemmed from dejection more than fatigue. Her spirits were at an extremely low ebb, and her friends’ efforts to raise them were having the opposite effect.

“As soon as you get out of here, we’re treating you to a day of self-indulgence at the salon. Hair, skin, massage. Just look at your poor nails.” One lifted her listless hand, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “They’re ravaged.”

Rusty smiled wanly, remembering how upset she’d been when Cooper had pared off her fingernails with his hunting knife. “I didn’t get around to having a manicure.” It was meant to be facetious, but her friends were nodding sympathetically. “I was too busy trying to stay alive.”

One shook her intentionally tousled blond head and shuddered delicately, causing the Hermes scarf around her neck to slip. The dozen or so silver bangle bracelets on her wrist jingled like the harness on a Christmas reindeer. “You were so brave, Rusty. I think I would rather have died than go through all that you did.”

Rusty was about to refute that remark, when she remembered that not too long ago she could have said something that shallow. “I always thought I would, too. You’d be amazed how strong the human animal’s survival instincts are. In a situation like the one I was in, they take over.”

But her friends weren’t interested in philosophy. They wanted to hear the nitty-gritty. The get-down-and-get-dirty good stuff. One was sitting on the foot of Rusty’s bed; the other was leaning forward from the chair beside it. They looked like scavenger birds perched and ready to pick her bones clean the second she succumbed.

The story of the crash and the events following it had appeared on the front page of that morning’s newspaper. The writer had, with only a few minor errors, meticulously chronicled Rusty’s and Cooper’s ordeal. The piece had been serious in tone and journalistically sound. But the public had a penchant for reading between the lines; it wanted to hear what had been omitted. Her friends included, the public wanted the facts fleshed out.

“Was it just awful? When the sun went down wasn’t it terrifyingly dark?”

“We had several lanterns in the cabin.”

“No, I mean outside.”

“Before you got to the cabin. When you had to sleep outdoors in the woods.”

Rusty sighed wearily. “Yes, it was dark. But we had a fire.”

“What did you eat?”

“Rabbits, mostly.”

“Rabbits! I’d die.”

“I didn’t,” Rusty snapped. “And neither would you.” Now, why had she gone and done that? Why hadn’t she just left it alone? They were looking wounded and confused, having no idea why she had jumped down their throats. Why hadn’t she said something cute, something glib, such as telling them that rabbit meat is served in some of the finest restaurants?

Following on the heels of that thought, of course, came one of Cooper. A pang of longing for him seized her. “I’m awfully tired,” she said, feeling the need to cry and not wanting to have to explain why.

But subtlety didn’t work with this duo. They didn’t pick up on the hint to leave. “And your poor leg.” The one with the bracelets clapped her hand to her cheek in horror. “Is the doctor sure he can fix it?”

Rusty closed her eyes as she answered, “Reasonably sure.”

“How many operations will it take to get rid of that hideous scar?” Rusty felt the air stir against her face as the other friend waved frantically to the untactful speaker. “Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s not that hideous. I mean—”

“I know what you mean,” Rusty said, opening her eyes. “It is hideous, but it’s better than a stump, and for a while I was afraid that’s what I’d end up with. If Cooper—”

She broke off, having inadvertently spoken his name. Now that it was out, the carrion birds flocked to it, grasping it in their avidly curious talons.

“Cooper?” one asked innocently. “The man who survived the crash with you?”

“Yes.”

The two women exchanged a glance, as though mentally tossing a coin to see who was going to pose the first of numerous questions about him.

“I saw him on the TV news last night. My God, Rusty, he’s gorgeous!”

“‘Gorgeous’?”

“Well not gorgeous in the perfect sense. Not model gorgeous. I mean rugged, manly, sweaty, hairy, sexy kind of gorgeous.”

“He saved my life,” Rusty said softly.

“I know, my dear. But if one’s life must be saved, better it be by someone who looks like your Cooper Landry. That mustache!” She grinned wickedly and licked her chops. “Is what they say of mustaches true? Remember the joke?”

Rusty did remember the joke. Her cheeks went pink while her lips went pale. What they said about mustaches was true.

“Are his shoulders really this broad?” The friend held her hands a yard apart.

“He’s rather brawny, yes,” Rusty admitted helplessly. “But he—”

“Are his hips really this narrow?” The hands closed to less than a foot apart. The ladies giggled.

Rusty wanted to scream. “He knew things to do that I would never have thought about. He built a travois, using my fur coat, and dragged me away from the crash site—for miles. I didn’t even realize how far until I saw the distance from the helicopter.”

“There’s something deliciously dangerous about him.” One friend gave a delicate shiver. She hadn’t heard a single word Rusty had said. “Something threatening in his eyes. I’ve always found that primitive streak wildly sexy.”

The one sitting in the chair closed her eyes in a near swoon. “Stop. You’re making me hot.”

“This morning’s paper said he killed two men in a fight over you.”

Rusty nearly got out of her bed. “That’s not what the paper said at all!”

“I put two and two together.”

“It was self-defense!”

“Honey, calm down.” She patted Rusty’s hand. “If you say it was self-defense, then it was self-defense.” She winked down at Rusty. “Listen, my hubby knows Bill Friedkin. He thinks your story would make a terrific movie. He and Friedkin are having lunch next week and—”

“A movie!” Rusty was aghast over the thought. “Oh, no. Please tell him not to say anything. I don’t want anything to come of this. I just want to forget about it and get on with my life.”

“We didn’t mean to upset you, Rusty.” The one who had been sitting in the chair rose to stand beside the bed. She laid a comforting hand on Rusty’s shoulder. “It’s just that we’re your two best friends. If there was something dreadful that you wanted to discuss, some—you know— personal aspect of the disaster that you couldn’t tell your father, we wanted to make ourselves available.”

“Like what?” Rusty shrugged off her friend’s hand and glared up at them. They exchanged another telling glance.

“Well, you were alone with that man for almost two weeks.”

“And?” Rusty asked tetchily.

“And,” she said, drawing a deep breath, “the paper said it was a one-room cabin.”

“So?”

“Come on, Rusty.” The friend’s patience gave out. “The situation lends itself to all kinds of speculation. You’re a very attractive young woman, and he’s positively yummy and certainly virile. You’re both single. You were hurt. He nursed you. You were almost totally dependent on him. You thought you might be stranded up there for the duration of the winter.”

The other took up the slack and said excitedly, “Living together like that, in such close proximity, in the wilderness—well, it’s positively the most romantic thing I ever heard of. You know what we’re getting at.”

“Yes, I know what you’re getting at.” Rusty’s voice was cold, but her brown eyes were smoldering. “You want to know if I slept with Cooper.”

Just then the door swung open and the topic of their discussion came striding in. Rusty’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Her friends spun around, reacting to the radiant smile that broke across her face. He barely took notice of them. His gray eyes found and locked upon Rusty. The sizzling look they exchanged should have answered any questions regarding their level of intimacy.

Rusty finally composed herself enough to speak. “Uh, Cooper, these are two of my closest friends.” She introduced them by name. He gave each of the women a disinterested, terse nod to acknowledge the introductions.

“Oh, Mr. Landry, I’m so honored to meet you,” one of them gushed, round-eyed and breathless. “The Times said that you are an escaped POW. That just blows my mind. I mean, all that you’ve been through already. Then to survive a plane crash.”

“Rusty claims that you saved her life.”

“My husband and I would like to give the two of you an intimate little dinner party when Rusty gets up and around. Please say you’ll let us.”

“When did you decide that?” the other asked with pique. “I wanted to give them a dinner party.”

“I spoke first.”

The silly chatter was irritating and embarrassing. Their squabbling made them sound like the two stepsisters in Cinderella. “I’m sure Cooper can’t stay long,” Rusty interrupted, noticing that he was growing increasingly impatient. As was she. Now that he was here, she wanted to get rid of her so-called friends so she could be alone with him.

“We’ve stayed long enough,” one of them said as she gathered up her handbag and coat. She bent over Rusty and kissed the air just above her cheek, whispering, “You sly thing, you. You won’t get away with this. I want to know everything.”

The other one leaned down and said, “I’m sure he was well worth the plane crash. He’s divine. So raw. So...Well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you.”

They stopped on their way to the door to say goodbye to Cooper. One even tapped his chest with a flirtatious hand as she reminded him about the dinner party she was planning in his honor. They glided out, smiling smugly at Rusty over their shoulders before the door closed on them.

Cooper watched them go, then approached the bed. “I’m not going to any damned dinner party.”

“I didn’t expect you to. Once the novelty has worn off, I’ll advise her to drop that idea.”

Looking at him proved to be hazardous. She was dismayed to feel tears stinging her eyes. Self-consciously she brushed them off her cheeks.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I’m...” She hesitated to tell him, but decided to take the plunge. The time for secrets between them was long past. Bravely she lifted her eyes back to his. “I’m just very glad to see you.”

He didn’t touch her, although he might just as well have. His gaze was as possessive as a caress. It passed down her form lying beneath the thin blanket, then moved back up again. It lingered on her breasts, which were seductively outlined by the clinging silk nightgown.

She nervously raised her hand and fiddled with the lace neckline. “The, uh, the gown was waiting here for me when I checked in.”

“It’s nice.”

“Anything is better than long johns.”

“You look all right in long johns.”

Her smile wavered. He was here. She could see him, smell his soapy clean smell, hear his voice. He was wearing new clothes—slacks and a casual shirt and jacket. But they weren’t responsible for his distant attitude. She didn’t want to acknowledge it, but it was undeniably there—as obvious to her as an unbreachable wall.

“Thank you for coming to see me,” she said for lack of anything better. “I asked my father to locate you and tell you where I was.”

“Your father didn’t tell me anything. I found you on my own.”

She took heart. He’d been looking for her. Maybe all night. Maybe while she’d lain sleeping a drug-induced sleep, he’d been combing the city streets in a frantic search.

But then he shot down her soaring hopes by adding, “It was in the morning paper that you were here. I understand that a plastic surgeon is going to correct the stitches I made.”

“I defended your stitching.”

He shrugged indifferently. “It worked, that’s all I care about.”

“That’s all I care about, too.”

“Sure.”

“It is!” She sat up straighter, angry over his righteous condescension. “It wasn’t my idea to come straight here from the airport. It was my father’s. I would rather have gone home, checked my mail, watered my plants, slept in my own bed.”

“You’re a big girl. Why didn’t you?”

“I just told you. Father had made these arrangements. I couldn’t demand that he change them.”

“How come?”

“Don’t be obtuse. And why shouldn’t I want this scar removed?” she cried angrily.

He glanced away, gnawing on the corner of his mustache. “You should. Of course you should.”

Slumping with misery, Rusty settled back on her pillows and blotted her eyes with the corner of the sheet. “What’s wrong with us? Why are we behaving like this?”

His head came back around. He wore a sad expression, as though her naivete was to be pitied. “You shouldn’t have to go through the rest of your life with that scar on your leg. I didn’t mean to suggest that you should.”

“I’m not talking about the scar, Cooper. I’m talking about everything. Why did you disappear at the airport last night?”

“I was there, in plain sight.”

“But you weren’t with me. I called out. Didn’t you hear me?”

He didn’t answer directly. “You didn’t seem to be lacking attention.”

“I wanted your attention. I had it until we stepped off the airplane.”

“We could hardly do in that crowd what we were doing on the airplane.” His eyes raked down her insultingly. “Besides, you were otherwise occupied.” His mouth was set in a cynical smirk again. It looked unfamiliar now because Rusty hadn’t seen that expression since they’d made love.

She was bewildered. Where and when had things between them gone wrong? “What did you expect to happen when we arrived in L.A.? We were and are news, Cooper. It wasn’t my fault that the reporters were there. And my father. He was worried sick about me. He helped fund our rescue. Did you think he’d treat my return casually?”

“No.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “But did it have to be such a goddamn sideshow? Why the big production? That coat, for instance.”

“That was a very thoughtful thing for him to do.”

It embarrassed her even now to recall her father’s flamboyant gesture, but she sprang to defend him. The coat had been an expression of his love and joy at having her safely returned to him. That it had been a tasteless display of affluence wasn’t the point. It was aggravating that Cooper couldn’t see that and simply overlook her father’s idiosyncrasies.

Cooper was moving around the room restlessly, as though he found it confining. His motions were abrupt and self-conscious, like those of a man ill at ease because his clothes didn’t fit him well. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

“Go? Now? Why? Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“To Rogers Gap?”

“Yeah. Back to where I belong. I’ve got a ranch to look after. No telling what shape I’ll find it in when I get there.” Almost as an afterthought he glanced down at her right leg. “What about your leg? Is it going to be all right?”

“Eventually,” she replied dully. He’s leaving. He’s going. Away from me. Possibly forever. “It’s going to take a series of operations. The first of them is being done tomorrow.”

“I hope I didn’t do you more harm than good.”

Her throat was tight with emotion. “You didn’t.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” He edged toward the door, trying not to make it look like an escape.

“Maybe sometime I can drive up to Rogers Gap and say hello. You never can tell when I might get up that way.”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.” His forced smile told her otherwise.

“How...how often do you come to L.A.?”

“Not very often,” he was honest enough to say. “Well, so long, Rusty.” Turning on the heels of his new shoes, he reached for the door handle.

“Cooper, wait!” He turned back. She was sitting up in bed, poised to chase after him if necessary. “Is this how it’s going to end?”

He nodded curtly.

“It can’t. Not after what we’ve been through together.”

“It has to.”

She shook her head so adamantly that her hair flew in every direction. “You don’t fool me anymore. You’re being insensitive to protect yourself. You’re fighting it. I know you are. You want to hold me just as much as I want to hold you.”

His jaw knotted as he ground his teeth together. At his sides, his hands formed fists. He warred with himself for several seconds before losing the battle.

He lunged across the room and pulled her roughly into his arms. Lowering himself onto the side of the bed, he hugged her against him tightly. With their arms wrapped around each other, they rocked together. His face was buried in the cinnamon-colored hair. Hers was nestled against his throat.

“Rusty, Rusty.”

Thrilling to the anguish in his voice, she told him, “I couldn’t go to sleep last night without a sedative. I kept listening for your breathing. I missed being held in your arms.”

“I missed feeling your bottom against my lap.”

He bent his head at the same moment she lifted hers and their mouths sought each other. Their kiss was desperate with desire. He plowed all ten fingers through her hair and held her head still while he made love to her open mouth with his tongue.

“I wanted you so bad last night, I thought I’d die,” he groaned when they moved apart.

“You didn’t want to be separated from me?”

“Not that way.”

“Then why didn’t you answer me when I called out to you at the airport? You heard me, didn’t you?”

He looked chagrined, but nodded his head yes. “I couldn’t be a performer in that circus, Rusty. I couldn’t get away from there fast enough. When I came home from Nam, I was treated like a hero.” He rubbed a strand of her hair between his fingers while he reflected on the painful past. “I didn’t feel like a hero. I’d been living in hell. In the bowels of hell. Some of the things I’d had to do... Well, they weren’t very heroic. They didn’t deserve a spotlight and accolades. I didn’t deserve them. I just wanted to be left alone so I could forget it.”

He tilted her head back and pierced her with a silvery-gray stare. “I don’t deserve or want a spotlight now, either. I did what was necessary to save our lives. Any man would have.”

She touched his mustache lovingly. “Not any man, Cooper.”

He shrugged away the compliment. “I’ve had more experience at surviving than most, that’s all.”

“You just won’t take the credit you deserve, will you?”

“Is that what you want, Rusty? Credit for surviving?”

She thought of her father. She would have enjoyed hearing a few words of praise for her bravery. Instead he had talked about Jeff’s Boy Scout escapade and told her how well her brother had reacted to a potentially fatal situation. Comparing her to Jeff hadn’t been malicious on her father’s part. He hadn’t meant to point out how she fell short of Jeff’s example. But that’s what it had amounted to. What would it take, she wondered, to win her father’s approval?

But for some reason, winning his approval didn’t seem as important as it once had been. In fact, it didn’t seem important at all. She was far more interested in what Cooper thought of her.

“I don’t want credit, Cooper. I want...” She stopped short of saying “you.” Instead, she laid her cheek against his chest. “Why didn’t you come after me? Don’t you want me anymore?”

He laid his hand over her breast and stroked it with his fingertips. “Yes, I want you.” The need that made his voice sound like tearing cloth wasn’t strictly physical.

Rusty perceived the depth of his need because she felt it too. It came out of an emptiness that gnawed at her when he wasn’t there. It caused her own imploring inflection. “Then why?”

“I didn’t follow you last night because I wanted to speed up the inevitable.”

“The inevitable?”

“Rusty,” he whispered, “this sexual dependency we feel for each other is textbook normal. It’s common among people who have survived a crisis together. Even hostages and kidnap victims sometimes begin to feel an unnatural affection for their captors.”

“I know all that. The Stockholm syndrome. But this is different.”

“Is it?” His brows lowered skeptically. “A child loves whoever feeds him. Even a wild animal becomes friendly with someone who leaves food out for it. I took care of you. It was only human nature that you attach more significance—”

Suddenly and angrily, she pushed him away. Her hair was a vibrant halo of indignation, her eyes bright with challenge. “Don’t you dare reduce what happened between us with psychological patter. It’s crap. What I feel for you is real.”

“I never said it wasn’t real.” Her feistiness excited him. He liked her best when she was defiant. He yanked her against him. “We’ve always had this going for us.” He cupped her breast again and impertinently swept his thumb across the tip.

She wilted, murmuring a weak “Don’t,” which he disregarded. He continued to fondle her. Her eyes slid shut.

“We get close. I get hard. You get creamy. Every damned time. It happened the first time we laid eyes on each other in the airplane. Am I right?”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“I wanted you then, before we ever left the ground.”

“But you didn’t even smile, or speak to me, or encourage me to speak to you.”

“That’s right.”

“Why?” She couldn’t take any more of his caresses and stay sensible. She moved his hand aside. “Tell me why.”

“Because I guessed then what I know for fact now: we live worlds apart. And I’m not referring to geography.”

“I know what you’re talking about. You think I’m silly and superficial, like those friends of mine you just met. I’m not!”

She laid her hands on his forearms and appealed to him earnestly. “They irritated me, too. Do you know why? Because I saw myself—the way I used to be. I was judging them just as you did me when we first met.

“But please be tolerant toward them. Toward me. This is Beverly Hills. Nothing is real. There are areas of this city I couldn’t relate to. The Gawrylows’ cabin was beyond my realm of comprehension. But I’m changed. I really am. I’m not like them anymore.”

“You never were, Rusty. I thought so. I know better now.” He framed her face between his hands. “But that’s the life you know. It’s the crowd you run with. I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Wouldn’t even want to try. And you wouldn’t belong in my life.”

Hurt by the painful truth of what he was saying, she reacted with anger and threw off his hands. “Your life! What life? Shut away from the rest of the world? Alone and lonely? Using bitterness like an armor? You call that a life? You’re right, Cooper. I couldn’t live like that. The chip on my shoulder would be too heavy to bear.”

His lower lip narrowed to a thin, harsh line beneath his mustache. She knew she’d hit home, but there was no victory in it.

“So there you have it,” he said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. In bed we’re great, but we’d never make a life together.”

“Because you’re too damned stubborn to try! Have you even considered a compromise?”

“No. I don’t want any part of this scene.” He spread his hands wide to encompass the luxurious room and all that lay beyond the wide window.

Rusty aimed an accusing finger at him. “You’re a snob.”

“A snob?”

“Yes, a snob. You snub society because you feel superior to the masses. Superior and righteous because of the war and your imprisonment. Scornful because you see all that’s wrong with the world. Locked up there on your solitary mountain, you play God by looking down on all of us who have the guts to tolerate each other despite our human failings.”

“It’s not like that,” he ground out.

“Isn’t it? Aren’t you just a trifle self-righteous and judgmental? If there’s so much wrong with our world, if you ridicule it that much, why don’t you do something to change it? What are you accomplishing by withdrawing from it? Society didn’t shun you. You shunned it.”

“I didn’t leave her until she—”

“Her?”

Cooper’s face cleared of all emotion and became as wooden and smooth as a mask. The light in his eyes flickered out. They became hard and implacable.

Shocked, Rusty laid a hand against her pounding heart. A woman was at the source of Cooper’s cynicism. Who? When? A hundred questions raced through her mind. She wanted to ask all of them, but for the time being she was occupied only with enduring his icy, hostile stare. He was furious with himself and with her. She had goaded him into resurrecting something he had wanted to keep dead and buried.

Her overactive heart pumped jealousy through her system as rich and red as her blood. Some woman had wielded enough influence over Cooper to alter the course of his life. He might have been a happy-go-lucky chap before this unnamed she-wolf got her claws into him. For his bitterness to be this lasting, she must have been some woman. He was still feeling her influence. Had he loved her that much? Rusty asked herself dismally.

A man like Cooper Landry wouldn’t go long without having a woman. But Rusty had imagined his affairs to be fleeting, physical gratification and little else. It had never occurred to her that he’d been seriously involved with someone. But he had been, and her departure from his life had been wrenching and painful.

“Who was she?”

“Forget it.”

“Did you meet her before you went to Vietnam?”

“Drop it, Rusty.”

“Did she marry someone else while you were a prisoner?”

“I said to forget it.”

“Did you love her?”

“Look, she was good in the sack, but not as hot as you, okay? Is that what you’re itching to know—how the two of you compare? Well, let’s see. She wasn’t a redhead, so she lacked your fiery spirit. She had a great body, but it didn’t come close to yours.”

“Stop it!”

“Her breasts were fuller, but no more responsive. Nipples? Larger and darker. Thighs? Hers were just as smooth, but not nearly as strong as yours.” He stared at the spot where hers came together. “Yours can squeeze the life out of a man.”

She covered her mouth to trap a sob of anguish and outrage. Her breath was coming as hard and fast as his. They glared at each other with an animosity as fierce as the passion they’d shared while making love.

It was into that seething atmosphere that Bill Carlson made his inopportune entrance. “Rusty?”

She jumped at her father’s voice. “Father!” His name came out as a gusty exhalation. “Come...good morning. This...” She discovered that her mouth was dry and the hand she raised to gesture toward Cooper was trembling. “This is Cooper Landry.”

“Ah, Mr. Landry.” Carlson extended his hand. Cooper shook it. He did so firmly, but with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm and a great deal of dislike. “I’ve had several people trying to track you down.” Cooper offered no explanations as to his whereabouts overnight, so Carlson blustered on. “I wanted to thank you for saving my daughter’s life.”

“No thanks is necessary.”

“Of course it is. She means the world to me. The way she tells it, you meant the difference between her life and death. In fact she’s the one who urged me to locate you last night.”

Cooper glanced down at Rusty, then back at Carlson, who was reaching into the breast pocket of his suit coat. He withdrew a white envelope. “Rusty wanted to say thank you in a special way.”

He handed the envelope to Cooper. Cooper opened it and glanced inside. He stared at the contents for a long moment before lifting his eyes to Rusty. They were frigid with contempt. One corner of his mustache curled into a nasty smile. Then, in one vicious motion, he ripped the envelope and the cashier’s check inside in half. He tossed the two halves into the valley of her thighs.

“Thanks all the same, Miss Carlson, but on our last night together I was paid in full for my services.”