Born in Ice
Page 73
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
When she continued to walk toward the bedroom, he shoved away from the table. He snatched her arm, whirled her back. A flicker of panic crossed her face before she closed up. “I said don’t walk away from me.”
“I come and go as I please, just as you do. And I’m going to dress now and get ready for the trip you’ve so thoughtfully arranged.”
“You want to take a bite out of me, go ahead. But we’re going to settle this.”
“I was under the impression you already had. You’re hurting my arm, Grayson.”
“I’m sorry.” He released her, jammed his hands in his pockets. “Look, I figured you might be a little annoyed, but I didn’t expect someone as reasonable as you to blow it all out of proportion.”
“You’ve arranged things behind my back, made decisions for me, decided I wouldn’t be able to cope on my own, and I’m blowing it all out of proportion? Well, that’s fine, then. I’m sure I should be ashamed of myself.”
“I’m trying to help you.” His voice rose again, and he fought to bring it and his temper under control. “It has nothing to do with your being inadequate; it has to do with you having no experience. Someone broke into your house. Can’t you put it together?”
She stared, paled. “No, why don’t you put it together for me?”
“You wrote about the stock, then somebody searches your house. Fast, sloppy. Maybe desperate. Not long after that, there’s somebody outside your window. How long have you lived in that house, Brianna?”
“All my life.”
“Has anything like that happened before?”
“No, but . . . No.”
“So it makes sense to connect the dots. I want to see what the whole picture looks like.”
“You should have told me all this before.” Shaken, she lowered to the arm of a chair. “You shouldn’t have kept it from me.”
“It’s just a theory. Christ, Brie, you’ve had enough on your mind. Your mother, Maggie and the baby, me. The whole business about finding that woman your father was involved with. I didn’t want to add to it.”
“You were trying to shield me. I’m trying to understand that.”
“Of course I was trying to shield you. I don’t like seeing you worried.
I—” He broke off, stunned. What had he almost said? He took a long step back, mentally from those tricky three words, physically from her. “You matter to me,” he said carefully.
“All right.” Suddenly tired, she pushed at her hair. “I’m sorry I made a scene about it. But don’t keep things from me, Gray.”
“I won’t.” He touched her cheek and his stomach trembled.
“Brianna.”
“Yes?”
“Nothing,” he said and dropped his hand again. “Nothing. We’d better pull it together if we’re going to get to Worldwide.”
It was raining in Wales and too late to do more than check into the drab little hotel where Gray had booked a room. Brianna had only a fleeting impression of the city of Rhondda, of the bleak row houses in the tight groups, the sorry skies that pelted the road with rain. They shared a meal she didn’t taste, then tumbled exhausted into bed.
He expected her to complain. The accommodations weren’t the best and the traveling had been brutal, even for him. But she said nothing the next morning, only dressed and asked him what they would do next.
“I figured we’d check the post office, see where that gets us.” He watched her pin up her hair, her movements neat, precise, though there were shadows under her eyes. “You’re tired.”
“A bit. All the time changing, I imagine.” She glanced out the window where watery sunlight struggled through the glass. “I always thought of Wales as a wild and beautiful place.”
“A lot of it is. The mountains are spectacular, and the coast. The Lleyn Peninsula—it’s a little touristy, full of Brits on holiday—but really gorgeous. Or the uplands, very pastoral and traditionally Welsh. If you saw the moorlands in the afternoon sun, you’d see just how wild and beautiful the country is.”
“You’ve been so many places. I’m surprised you can remember one from another.”
“There’s always something that sticks in your mind.” He looked around the gloomy hotel room. “I’m sorry about this, Brie. It was the most convenient. If you want to take an extra day or two, I’ll show you the scenery.”
She smiled over it, the thought of her tossing responsibility aside and traveling with Gray over foreign hills and shores. “I need to get home, once we’ve finished what we’ve come for. I can’t impose on Mrs. O’Malley much longer.” She turned from the mirror. “And you’re wanting to get back to work. It shows.”
“Got me.” He took her hands. “When I finish the book, I’ll have a little time before I tour for the one that’s coming up. We could go somewhere. Anywhere you like. Greece, or the South Pacific. The West Indies. Would you like that? Some place with palm trees and a beach, blue water, white sun.”
“It sounds lovely.” He, she thought, he who never made plans was making them. She felt it wiser not to point it out. “It might be difficult to get away again so soon.” She gave his hands a squeeze before releasing them to pick up her purse. “I’m ready if you are.”
They found the post office easily enough, but the woman in charge of the counter appeared immune to Gray’s charm.
It wasn’t her place to give out the names of people who rented post office boxes, she told them crisply. They could have one themselves if they wanted, and she wouldn’t be discussing them with strangers, either.
When Gray asked about Triquarter, he received a shrug and a frown. The name meant nothing to her.
Gray considered a bribe, took another look at the prim set of the woman’s mouth, and decided against it.
“Strike one,” he said as they stepped outside again.
“I don’t believe you ever thought it would be so easy.”
“No, but sometimes you get a hit when you least expect it. We’ll try some mining companies.”
“Shouldn’t we just report everything we know to the local authorities?”
When she continued to walk toward the bedroom, he shoved away from the table. He snatched her arm, whirled her back. A flicker of panic crossed her face before she closed up. “I said don’t walk away from me.”
“I come and go as I please, just as you do. And I’m going to dress now and get ready for the trip you’ve so thoughtfully arranged.”
“You want to take a bite out of me, go ahead. But we’re going to settle this.”
“I was under the impression you already had. You’re hurting my arm, Grayson.”
“I’m sorry.” He released her, jammed his hands in his pockets. “Look, I figured you might be a little annoyed, but I didn’t expect someone as reasonable as you to blow it all out of proportion.”
“You’ve arranged things behind my back, made decisions for me, decided I wouldn’t be able to cope on my own, and I’m blowing it all out of proportion? Well, that’s fine, then. I’m sure I should be ashamed of myself.”
“I’m trying to help you.” His voice rose again, and he fought to bring it and his temper under control. “It has nothing to do with your being inadequate; it has to do with you having no experience. Someone broke into your house. Can’t you put it together?”
She stared, paled. “No, why don’t you put it together for me?”
“You wrote about the stock, then somebody searches your house. Fast, sloppy. Maybe desperate. Not long after that, there’s somebody outside your window. How long have you lived in that house, Brianna?”
“All my life.”
“Has anything like that happened before?”
“No, but . . . No.”
“So it makes sense to connect the dots. I want to see what the whole picture looks like.”
“You should have told me all this before.” Shaken, she lowered to the arm of a chair. “You shouldn’t have kept it from me.”
“It’s just a theory. Christ, Brie, you’ve had enough on your mind. Your mother, Maggie and the baby, me. The whole business about finding that woman your father was involved with. I didn’t want to add to it.”
“You were trying to shield me. I’m trying to understand that.”
“Of course I was trying to shield you. I don’t like seeing you worried.
I—” He broke off, stunned. What had he almost said? He took a long step back, mentally from those tricky three words, physically from her. “You matter to me,” he said carefully.
“All right.” Suddenly tired, she pushed at her hair. “I’m sorry I made a scene about it. But don’t keep things from me, Gray.”
“I won’t.” He touched her cheek and his stomach trembled.
“Brianna.”
“Yes?”
“Nothing,” he said and dropped his hand again. “Nothing. We’d better pull it together if we’re going to get to Worldwide.”
It was raining in Wales and too late to do more than check into the drab little hotel where Gray had booked a room. Brianna had only a fleeting impression of the city of Rhondda, of the bleak row houses in the tight groups, the sorry skies that pelted the road with rain. They shared a meal she didn’t taste, then tumbled exhausted into bed.
He expected her to complain. The accommodations weren’t the best and the traveling had been brutal, even for him. But she said nothing the next morning, only dressed and asked him what they would do next.
“I figured we’d check the post office, see where that gets us.” He watched her pin up her hair, her movements neat, precise, though there were shadows under her eyes. “You’re tired.”
“A bit. All the time changing, I imagine.” She glanced out the window where watery sunlight struggled through the glass. “I always thought of Wales as a wild and beautiful place.”
“A lot of it is. The mountains are spectacular, and the coast. The Lleyn Peninsula—it’s a little touristy, full of Brits on holiday—but really gorgeous. Or the uplands, very pastoral and traditionally Welsh. If you saw the moorlands in the afternoon sun, you’d see just how wild and beautiful the country is.”
“You’ve been so many places. I’m surprised you can remember one from another.”
“There’s always something that sticks in your mind.” He looked around the gloomy hotel room. “I’m sorry about this, Brie. It was the most convenient. If you want to take an extra day or two, I’ll show you the scenery.”
She smiled over it, the thought of her tossing responsibility aside and traveling with Gray over foreign hills and shores. “I need to get home, once we’ve finished what we’ve come for. I can’t impose on Mrs. O’Malley much longer.” She turned from the mirror. “And you’re wanting to get back to work. It shows.”
“Got me.” He took her hands. “When I finish the book, I’ll have a little time before I tour for the one that’s coming up. We could go somewhere. Anywhere you like. Greece, or the South Pacific. The West Indies. Would you like that? Some place with palm trees and a beach, blue water, white sun.”
“It sounds lovely.” He, she thought, he who never made plans was making them. She felt it wiser not to point it out. “It might be difficult to get away again so soon.” She gave his hands a squeeze before releasing them to pick up her purse. “I’m ready if you are.”
They found the post office easily enough, but the woman in charge of the counter appeared immune to Gray’s charm.
It wasn’t her place to give out the names of people who rented post office boxes, she told them crisply. They could have one themselves if they wanted, and she wouldn’t be discussing them with strangers, either.
When Gray asked about Triquarter, he received a shrug and a frown. The name meant nothing to her.
Gray considered a bribe, took another look at the prim set of the woman’s mouth, and decided against it.
“Strike one,” he said as they stepped outside again.
“I don’t believe you ever thought it would be so easy.”
“No, but sometimes you get a hit when you least expect it. We’ll try some mining companies.”
“Shouldn’t we just report everything we know to the local authorities?”
