Daredevil’s Run

Chapter 3

Alex spent a restless night in the company of dreams that weren’t quite awful enough to be called nightmares, but close.

First, she was back on the Mojave Desert where she’d spent her childhood. She, the grown-up Alex, was climbing the tree that stood beside their mobile home. It was an old tree shaped by decades of desert wind so that it seemed to hover with its limbs spread protectively over the trailer, sheltering it from the relentless desert sun. Down below, her mother was yelling at her to come down from there before she fell and broke her neck. Alex smiled and kept climbing. And then she fell.

Except, instead of the tree, it was a rocky cliff she was falling from, and as she was falling she looked up and saw a face peering down at her from a ledge up above. Matt’s face. He was yelling at her, something she couldn’t hear because of the wind rushing past her ears, and he was holding out his hand for her to grab hold of. But she wouldn’t. She scowled at him and kept falling, and just before she hit the ground, she woke up.

She was drenched in sweat, so she threw aside all her covers and pulled off the oversized T-shirt she’d worn to bed, flipped the pillow to a dry side and went back to sleep.

And she was right back on that cliff, still falling. Only now she was naked, and Matt was still peering down at her, holding out his hand for her to grab on to, and instead of yelling at her, he was smiling. Smiling that beautiful Matt Callahan smile that could melt her heart like vanilla ice cream in the Mojave sun. She watched the smile get smaller and farther away as she fell, and fell, and fell, and again, just before she hit the ground, she woke up.

The ringing telephone woke Matt in the darkness. He groped for the handset, squinted at the time in the lighted window. Jeez, was that…4:00 a.m.? He thumbed it on, swearing under his breath. “Who the hell is this?”

“Are you insane?”

“Alex?” He jerked himself half upright, got himself propped on one elbow and his throat cleared, stalling for time, waiting for his heart rate to get back to normal. When it didn’t appear it was going to anytime soon, he tried instead for the lazy Clint Eastwood drawl he sometimes adopted with the kids when he wanted to appear cool. “Nice of you to call. Haven’t heard from you in a while. What’s it been, five years?”

“You’re the one who broke up with me, remember?” He heard some heavy nasal breathing, and then, “The Forks, Callahan? Have you lost your mind?”

His scalp prickled in a familiar way, and instead of confessing to her that the whole river trip had been his brother’s idea and he’d only insisted on the Forks of the Kern run and its Class V rapids to scare Cory off the notion, he dropped the temperature of his tone a couple more degrees and said, “No, don’t think I have.”

“Okay, then, you can’t be serious.”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, for-” There was a long pause, filled with some more of that breathing. “You’re going to make me say it? Okay, I’ll say it. You can’t do a Class V run. Not the Forks.”

Another shower of prickles enveloped him, and it was like getting hit by a gust of wind-driven sleet. Five years he’d dreamed of hearing her voice again, talking to her, and he should have known it would be like this, picking up right where they’d left off. Shouting at each other. Just proved he’d been right to end it when he did.

He closed his eyes and fought to hang on to his temper. “I’ve made that run a dozen times. You’ve been with me on most of ’em. What’s the problem?”

“Jeez, Matt. That was more than five years ago. Before-”

“Before I got hurt? Before I was paralyzed? Last time I checked, you didn’t need legs to row a boat. Somebody change that when I wasn’t looking?” He felt a childish urge to brag, to tell her how he played basketball and tennis and won medals in wheelchair races all over the country and had a good chance of making the U.S. Paralympic Team, if he put his mind to it. But he managed to keep his mouth shut, and after listening to the silence on the other end of the line, said in his coolest drawl, “Alex? What’s the matter? Scared I won’t be able to do it, or scared I will?”

“Okay, but I’m sending two Class V guides.” She’d cleared her throat, but her voice sounded raspy anyway.

He’d always loved that little froggy voice of hers. Never failed to stoke his fires, not then. And evidently not now, either.

“Why? You already got me. You only need one more.” You, Alex? You’re a Class V guide, too.

“Two. Besides you. And that’s not negotiable.”

He sat for a minute, smiling to himself, savoring the moment. Making sure to keep the smile out of his voice, making it sound grudging, he said, “Who’ve you got?”

There was an exhaled breath. “Tahoe, for sure.”

“Tahoe-he’s that big dude with the beard, the one that does trips in the Andes in the off-season, right? Surprised he’s still around.”

“He isn’t, always. But he’s here right now. He’s the most experienced Class V guide we’ve got. Him, definitely.”

“Okay. Who else?” Come with us, Alex. Come on-I dare you.

Another whoosh of breath. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. I’ll find somebody, okay? I just need to-Jeez, it’s four in the morning, Callahan, you really expect me to think?”

“Hey, you called me, Alex.” He tightened his fingers on the handset, half expecting her to hang up. When she didn’t, he eased himself back onto the pillows and said softly, “So. How are you? Doin’ okay?”

“I am. I’m good.” A caught breath…a pause. “How are you?”

“I’m doing just fine. I guess you heard…my brother-”

“Yeah, he stopped by here. That’s so amazing. How’s it been? The two of you…”

“Oh, it’s been-” he gave a short laugh “-a little unreal, actually. I find out I not only have a brother, but a couple of little sisters, too. I’m still trying to get my head around it. But, yeah, it’s amazing.” Lots to tell you, Alex. I’d like to tell you all about it, the way we used to tell each other everything. We used to be friends-best friends, remember? When we weren’t being lovers…or mad at each other and yelling-or not speaking.

God, I miss you, Alex.

Had he said that out loud? He didn’t think he had. But he could have. The nearness of that disaster made his scalp crawl.

“So…I guess I’ll see you in a couple of days, then.” Was it his imagination, or did her voice still sound strange? Sort of muffled.

The handset had grown slippery in his grasp. He put his free hand over his eyes and pressed on his closed lids, and was surprised to discover there was moisture there, too. “Okay-yeah. Guess you will.”

“Well…bye, then.”

“Yeah. Take care now.”

“You, too.”

The phone went dead in his hand, and for a while he sat with his eyes closed and held it. His chest had a hard lump of emotion in it he didn’t know what to do with, a little like that moment right after he’d met Cory for the first time, in the hallway outside the locker room. Like he’d done then, he tried laughing and swearing and whooshing out a breath, but none of those things helped. Not this time.

It hurt too much. And he was too damn big and strong to cry.

“Dieter’s gone? He’s the only other Class V guide we’ve got, besides Tahoe. What do you mean, he’s gone? Since when? Ah, jeez, Booker T-”

“Hey, don’t kill the messenger.” Booker T held up his hands and tried-unsuccessfully-to look innocent. “You know how these guides are-come and go as they please, especially those Class V guys. Bunch of adrenaline junkies. I guess the season’s about getting started up there in Idaho, on the Salmon, and Dieter told me he wanted to get there for the spring runoff-said that’s the best water. Who am I to tell him he can’t?”

“You told him he could go? You told him? You knew I needed two fives for this Forks run. I don’t have anybody else available.”

“Sure you do. Tahoe and you. That makes your two.”

“Yeah, but I’m not going. How can I? Somebody’s got to stay here and run this place.”

Booker T was in the process of shouldering a pair of oars. He paused to snort. “You know good and well if you don’t go you’re not gonna be worth a nickel around here anyway. All you’re gonna do is sit here and worry the whole time they’re gone.”

“Dammit, Booker T, who’s the boss of this outfit, anyhow?”

“Well, you are, sweet pea.” He got the oars balanced and started for the bus, but not before he threw her a wink.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know very many employees get to call their boss ‘sweet pea,’” she yelled after him. “Tell me why I don’t fire your ass!”

Booker T’s cackle drifted back to her. “Because if you fire my ass, the rest of me’d have to go along with it. Then you wouldn’t have anybody to tell you when you’re full of-”

“Booker T-”

A shadow blotted out her sun. She whirled to face the man-mountain who had cast it-her one remaining Class V river guide, whom she knew only by the unlikely name he’d given her when she’d first hired him five years before: Tahoe Jones. His wild auburn hair, backlit by the sun, formed a fiery halo around his deeply tanned face, and his full, dark brown beard failed to hide his grin.

“Looks like it’s you and me, boss.” Tahoe jerked his head toward the blue SUV with handicapped plates that was just then pulling through the open gate. “Can’t very well cancel now.”

Alex opened her mouth to offer a retort, but found it had gone dust dry. Keep it together, Alex. Don’t give him the satisfaction. Don’t you dare. She stood stock-still and watched the SUV roll across the yard and into a parking place beside the half-loaded bus. Like it belonged there.

The hell it does! Anger blew through her. Blessed anger. Cold fury.

She started across the yard toward the SUV, all set to inform the person driving the damn thing that he was going to have to park down at the Rafting Center, like any other client. But Booker T and Tahoe were already converging on the driver’s side of the vehicle with grins and gestures of joyous welcome. The tinted window rolled slowly down, but from where she stood, Alex couldn’t see who was inside. A wave of dizziness washed over her, a reminder that it had been some time since she’d taken a breath. She hissed one in, whooshed it out, put her hands on her hips and elected-wisely-to stay where she was.

As she watched, the world around her seemed to shrink; her focus narrowed down until it was like watching the scene through a telescope turned the wrong way around. From far, far away Alex saw the SUV’s side door slide back, saw the wheelchair lift emerge, then slowly descend.

Oh God, this hurts.

A hard, painful knot formed beneath her breastbone. Once again she reminded herself to breathe as her mind flashed back to those awful days and weeks and months of visiting Matt at the rehab hospital.

Oh God, he looks just the same.

Same brown hair, maybe a little longer, maybe a little more wavy. Same finely honed features that were in no way effeminate, and he’d shaved off the beard he’d worn the last time she’d seen him. Same poet’s mouth curved in a Huck Finn grin. Mattie’s grin. Mattie’s smile.

How dare he look just the same!

From a vast unbridgeable distance she watched the wheelchair disengage from the lift, and Booker T move in for some macho hand-gripping, backslapping, and yeah, some male-bonding-type hugging. Then Tahoe and Matt did the cool hand thing all guys seem to understand and know how to do. Nobody appeared the slightest bit constrained by the fact that one of them was in a wheelchair. To them, obviously, he was just…Matt.

Why can’t I feel like that?

I wish I could, but I can’t!

Because he’s not the same, dammit. Matt-my Matt-is strong and graceful and full of life and mischief and laughter. His body is beautiful. He moves like a thoroughbred racehorse. It’s a pleasure just to watch him. And his hands…he has the hands of a sculptor. And when he touches me-

“Alex?”

She jerked around to face Cory, letting go of another forgotten breath that told her one thing: plainly, the pain in her chest had nothing to do with breathing. Thrusting the pain ruthlessly aside, she pasted on a brilliant smile and said, “Well, I see you guys made it.”

“Alex, this is my wife, Samantha.”

The woman standing beside Cory was tall, athletic-looking and blond, her hair cut short and worn casually tousled, styled by natural influences rather than expensive hairdressers. She wore light tan cargo pants, a khaki T-shirt, aviator shades, and judging from the part of her face Alex could see, a pleasant though neutral expression. Which didn’t change as she thrust out her hand and said, “Hi, Alex. And it’s Sam.”

Her grip was strong, Alex noted. Firm, no-nonsense. She’d do okay with the paddles. “Sam,” she repeated, still automatically smiling. “Nice to meet you. And welcome to Penny Tours.”

She tried not to, but from the corner of her eye she could see Matt wheeling himself across the yard flanked by Tahoe and Booker T. The three were making their way toward the warehouse, making slow progress as other members of the crew, loaded down with supplies for the trip, paused to extend greetings or be introduced, depending on how long they’d been with the company.

The pain under her ribs twisted sharply. What, he’s not even going to say hello? He can’t even face me? What the hell is that?

“As you can see,” she went on, with an arm sweep that took in all the activity around them, “we’re in the process of packing for your trip.” She glanced at Cory and dryly added, “Most of our clients don’t get to see this part. Guess Matt’s having some trouble remembering he’s the customer on this run.”

Cory gave her a smile and one of his piercing looks but didn’t comment.

As the three of them began walking toward the open warehouse, Sam moved closer to Alex’s side. “I know it’s not easy,” she said in a low voice, and with a Southern accent that was unmistakable but not strong enough to be annoying. “Believe me, you’re talkin’ to one who’s been there.” She paused, then took off her sunglasses and gave Alex her eyes-unexpectedly dark, and even more unexpectedly, filled with compassion. “Pearse tells me it’s been about five years since you two saw each other. That’s about what it was for us, too-maybe not quite as long, but close. It was hard. And trust me on this, too. Him bein’ in a wheelchair’s got nothin’ to do with it.”

Since she couldn’t think of a thing to say to that, Alex replied with a short huff of breath-what Matt would have called a snort. She saw Sam and Cory trade smiles and long looks before Sam once again tucked hers behind her aviator shades.

He could at least have come over to say hello to me. He started this. He’s the one that wanted this craziness. I’ll be damned if I’m going to him.

She set her lips-Matt would have said stubbornly-as she separated herself from her clients and veered toward the office’s back entrance. “Since you’re here, you might want to watch the guys pack up the gear. It’s kind of interesting to see what goes into a run. The big scary-looking guy with the beard is one of your guides. He can explain everything, answer any questions. I’m going to…uh, I’ve got some things…some paperwork to take care of, so if you’ll-”

“One of our guides?” Cory had paused with one hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Matt tells me we’re required to have two for this run. May I ask-who’s the other one?”

Alex flashed him a desperately brilliant smile. “Looks like that would be me.” Before he could respond, she brushed past Eve, who was leaning against the wall near the office door, pushed it open and escaped into the air-conditioned office.

Since what she wanted at that moment more than anything was to be left alone, she wasn’t thrilled when Eve followed her in.

“So, they made it.” Alex didn’t comment, so Eve went on. “He looks pretty good-considering.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, studiously avoiding looking at her, instead picking up a handful of mail and giving it her focused attention. She glanced up briefly to add, “Why don’t you go say hello? You knew him, right?”

“Sure.” Eve gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I will.”

But she stayed there, fidgeting, getting on Alex’s already frayed nerves. Being in no mood to deal with one of Eve’s sulks, Alex smacked the stack of envelopes down on her desktop. “What, Eve?”

“Jeez, don’t get mad.”

“I’m not-”

“I just don’t see why you have to be the one to go on the run. Okay? There’s only three of them, it’s not like Tahoe can’t deal with it.”

“Yeah, well…I’m going. Okay?” Alex paused, took a breath and made an effort to soften her tone when she saw Eve’s lips compress in that hurt way she had. Was that what they called passive-aggressive? “Look. They’re my responsibility, and I’m not handing them off to someone else. You can handle things around here while I’m gone, right?”

“Yeah.” Eve exhaled grudgingly. “Sure.” Still she made no move to go.

“It’s three days, Eve. Then he’s gone.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Hell, yeah.”

Eve lifted one shoulder and turned to go.

Alex did a double take. “Wait. What would make you think-Wait, dammit. Eve-”

The door closed quietly. Alex clamped a hand to the top of her head, then closed her eyes and swore.

What the hell are you doing, Alex, hiding in here? Making such a big deal about this? Get out there and face the man, you know you have to sooner or later. Did your mama raise you to be a coward?

She made a growling sound and strode with grim determination to the door. Her heart was pounding and her hands were cold as she pasted her smile back on her face and opened the door.

But the blue SUV and its passengers had already gone.

Matt paced the open space in his brother’s motel room, as someone wheelchair-bound paces, rocking forward and back, angled first this way, then that way. Going nowhere, while his mind raced in circles.

Shouldn’t have gone over to the yard, man. You don’t have the right…and anyway, what were you thinking? Maybe she’d fall on her knees and beg you to come back? Yeah…right-after the way you brushed her off? When snowball fights break out in hell.

So you went over there. Then you don’t even go and say hello to her? What’s that say? That you care too damn much, or you’re a gutless coward. A wuss, as my kids would say. Either way, you’re screwed.

Either way, it hadn’t been his finest hour.

And instead of having gotten it out of the way, he still had it to look forward to-his first face-to-face with Alex since that day at the rehab hospital. Awful day. He closed his eyes, pressed his fist against the pain in his chest and whooshed out air, but the memories came anyway.

Alex fidgeting, arms folded across her waist, looking anywhere but at him…looking like she’d rather be anywhere but there, with him.

“They tell me I’m going to be ready to leave here in a couple weeks.”

She nods, says, “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.”

“I’m getting a place…” He waits, she nods. “Physical therapy…you know. I guess that goes on for a while yet. So…I guess I’m gonna need to be close to this place for now.”

She nods again. He sees her swallow. His chest is full of knots, and his mind is screaming, What the hell’s wrong with you, Alex? This is me-Matt. Don’t stand there like you’re a million miles away-say something, dammit!

Then she does, and it’s, “Okay, so I guess that’s what’s best, then. I understand. That’s cool.” She sounds like a stranger.

And he wants to yell at her, No, it’s not cool. It sucks. It’s my body that’s all busted up-inside I’m the same guy. The one who runs the big rapids with you, makes you laugh. The one who loves you…makes love to you. My God, Alex, can’t you see that?

He knows it’s not true, even while he thinks it. He’ll never be the same man he was. And he can see she knows it, too.

Smart woman, Alex.

Hey-I made it easy for her, that’s all. Clean break-that’s always best. Right?

A knock at the door kept the rest of it at bay, for now. He knew from long experience the memories would be back. The memories from before…and after. He had a feeling they always would.

It was the during memories, the ones of the accident, he didn’t have.

Sam came from the bathroom, having changed her khaki T-shirt and cargo pants for walking shorts and a sleeveless top that left a lot of smooth golden skin showing. Matt saw his brother give her an appreciative look as he went to open the door, and couldn’t help feeling a sharp stab of envy. Woulda been nice, he thought.

Then the room was filling up with people and noise, and he put all thoughts and feelings aside for the moment. Put on his happy face. Or, if not happy, at least cool.

Alex came in first, naturally. Then Booker T and Linda, then a tall, good-looking blond girl Matt didn’t know. Last came Tahoe, the Class V guide, which pretty much filled up the room. There was a lot of noise and friendly handshaking, since mostly everybody had met everybody else that afternoon at the yard. Matt hung back out of the way through most of it, rocking forward to extend a hand as he was introduced to Cheryl, the blonde, who turned out to be the guide assigned to food duty for their trip.

“A newbie, huh?” He noted, smiling at her in his most charming way, that her hand was warm and firm, and seemed to want to linger in his a little longer than was really necessary.

“Yeah…How’d you guess?” Her voice was breathless, husky and a little shy.

“Tradition. Newbie’s get the food detail.”

“Oh, that’s right, you used to be-”

“Yeah. Guess some things don’t change.”

“You got that right.” Now, that voice he knew. Edgy as a squeaking door, and it still made his skin shiver in predictable ways. “Better watch him, Cheryl. Still thinks he can charm the britches off a girl with that grin.”

“Hey, Alex.” He made it nice and cool…easygoing. Clint Eastwood would have been proud.

“Hey, Matthew.”

Matthew. He couldn’t remember the last time anybody’d called him that. Only two people in the world did, and one was his mother. He let his gaze find her eyes, and Cheryl the good-looking blonde and everybody else in the room disappeared.

Still has those lashes. Like soot rings around live coals.

She had some sun wrinkles he didn’t remember, a couple around her mouth and at the corners of her eyes. Maybe a few more freckles, too. She never had been good at remembering sunscreen.

“’Bout time you got around to saying hello.”

“Got things to do. Hey, you think you’re the only customer I’ve got?”

Her tone was light, teasing. Her smile was in place, just like his was. Twin smiles. No getting around it, people were going to be watching this. They’d put on a good show.

He felt as if the paralysis he’d grown accustomed to in his lower half had crept up his body all the way to his chin.

“So-” she turned away from him and raised her head and her voice to encompass Sam and Cory “-in case you didn’t read your information packet yet, this is your ‘pre-trip meeting.’ We’re supposed to go over the details of the trip with you all, but since you probably got that already this afternoon, or from Matt here, I think we can probably skip that. Unless you have any questions?”

She paused, waited, then gestured to Tahoe, who stepped forward to dump some waterproof gear bags on the nearest bed. “Okay, these are for your stuff. Matt can tell you what you need to take and what you should leave behind.” She paused to dust her hands off and grin. “And that, boys and girls, concludes the business portion of our evening. Shall we all adjourn to The Corral for burgers and…whatever?”

There were general cries of approval and seconds to that motion, which got even more enthusiastic when Cory announced he was buying.

Everyone shuffled and jostled their way out of the room and into the soft summer twilight. Nobody was inclined to drive, since The Corral was just across the park and the main road through town. As the group strolled along the roadway, taking the long way around instead of cutting through the park for Matt’s sake, Alex moved in alongside his chair. Making it seem a casual thing, as if it were only the natural ebb and flow of the crowd that had brought her there.

They strolled along in silence for a while. Then Alex said in a low voice, “You do know this is insane.”

He gave a short dry laugh. “Wouldn’t be the first time you and I did something wild and crazy.”

“Yeah, and look where that got us.”

Something in her voice-a slight catch, maybe-made him look up at her, wanting to see what was in her face…her eyes. But she was already moving away from him, into the dusk.

The crowd at The Corral was rowdy; at least some things hadn’t changed-much. The place had gone smoke-free, along with the rest of California, but there was enough of the familiar smells of sweat, booze and charred meat to make up for it, still make it the place he remembered. That, and the noise-laughter and conversation and loud foot-stompin’ country music playing on the jukebox. Matt wondered whether they still had live music on weekends. And whether Alex went there to hear it, and who she danced with these days.

There was a lot of calling out and waving back and forth as their group moved through the crowd to a table near the dance floor. Obviously, the river guides were still regulars here. Several people Matt knew came over to say hello, with varying degrees of awkwardness and constraint. Which he was used to, and had long ago stopped being bothered by. He figured he’d probably be the same way, if the situations had been reversed.

They put in their orders for beer and The Corral’s famous black angus hamburgers, then settled back to watch the raggedy line dance in progress. It ended, to hoots and cheers and some sporadic applause, and a Garth Brooks classic-“The River”-came on. Linda and Sam started to sing along, and then Booker T got up and with old-fashioned courtesy, asked his wife to dance. A respectful silence fell over the table as they all watched Booker T guide his wife around the small dance floor, kind of bent over at the hips like the rump-spring cowboy he’d been in his youth. Then Sam jumped up and grabbed Cory’s arm and hauled him onto the dance floor.

Among the four remaining at the table-Cheryl and Tahoe, Alex and Matt-an awkward silence fell. Tahoe sat sprawled in his chair, nursing his longneck beer and watching the dancers with his usual unreadable gaze. Cheryl tapped her fingers on the table and rocked her body in time to the music. Alex picked up her beer and took a sip.

Matt said, “How ’bout you, Alex-you used to like to dance.” He spoke in an easy drawl, but he could feel his heart thumping, out of sync with the music.

Above the rim of the beer bottle her eyes widened briefly, flared and then faded the way banked coals do when you blow on them. He could see she didn’t know what to say, that he’d surprised her, probably. Hell, for sure, he had. What had he expected her to say? He hadn’t even asked it out loud. Dance with me, Alex. Won’t be the way it used to be, but I’ll make sure you enjoy it. Maybe not quite, but almost as much.

While Alex was hesitating, swallowing her mouthful of beer and evidently trying to think of a reply, Cheryl hopped up and stuck out her hand and said, “Hey, I’ll dance with you.”

So, what could he do? He reached out and took the hand she offered, looked up at her and smiled. “Well, let’s go, then.”

After that, he just concentrated on the music, Cheryl’s warm hand in his, and her pretty baby-blue eyes.

Tried to, anyway. Trouble was, a different pair of eyes kept getting in the way. Hazel-gold eyes filled with fire and fringed with black, and a smart-alecky mouth that never lacked for something bossy to say. He kept remembering how that mouth felt, laughing up against his, how incredibly inventive it could be, exploring his body’s most sensitive places-back when his body had had senses. Kept remembering how her body felt-small, but round where it needed to be, and as she liked to say, “freakishly strong.” One little bitty package made up of muscle and fire-that was Alex. My Alex.

He rotated his chair in time to the music, one hand guiding Cheryl as she sashayed in a circle around him. She looked down at him, eyes lit up and smiling, and he looked back at her and winked. And his mind followed its own steps…its own dance:

Not your Alex anymore, you fool. What the hell do you think you’re doing here? She’s right-it’s insane, going on this run. What is it you hope to accomplish? What are you trying to prove?

It came to him, finally, sometime out there on that dance floor as he was rocking and swaying to Garth Brooks’s anthem comparing life to the flow of a river. In a way, he’d staked everything on this run down the monster rapids known as the Forks of the Kern. This was it-his one chance to make it all right again. As far as his future happiness was concerned-and that meant his future with Alex Penny-to borrow a poker term (and he’d played a lot of poker during his months in rehab), he was All In.

Alex watched the dancers from a great unbridgeable distance, while thoughts and feelings rocketed through her mind like an oarless boat on a river full of rapids.

My God, he can dance. And who would have thought a man in a wheelchair could look so graceful? So sexy.

So…beautiful.

So virile? I wonder if he…

No. I don’t want to wonder.

Damn, but this hurts. I don’t want to watch him, but I can’t help it.

How can he dance with someone else? To this song? Not that we were sentimental, either one of us, to have had “our song”-but if we had one this would have been it. We used to dance to it, me with my hands around his neck, and he’d have his hands on my butt, and we’d sing along while we danced. Sing about the river we both loved.

How could you, Mattie? How could you have messed everything up so badly?

“Hey, boss, leaving so soon?”

She realized only then that she was standing, looking down at Tahoe, who was looking back at her with heavy-lidded eyes. And she was proud of the brisk and businesslike way she replied. “Hey, I’m runnin’ the Forks tomorrow. I don’t know about you, but I’m planning on getting a good night’s rest.”

She walked out of the room without a backward glance, fully aware of the fact that she’d left before the hamburger she’d ordered had arrived. And that everyone there would know that. And probably guess why.

In the foyer she almost bumped into Eve, who’d been lurking in the doorway, evidently watching the dancers, too.

Oh, damn. Of all the people in the world she did not want to have to deal with just then, Eve topped the list. Not that Eve wasn’t a good friend, but she was just so darn needy. And at the moment…Dammit, right now I might be “needy” myself. Okay? When do I get to have somebody comfort me?

The thought was so foreign to her nature, it shook her. Terrified it might show, she compensated by being overly jovial.

“Eve-hey, where you been, girl?”

Eve shrugged and looked away. Looked at the dancers, the empty coat rack, the beer signs on the wall. She mumbled something about having stuff to take care of. Paperwork to catch up on.

Okay, so she was still miffed about Alex taking the Forks run? Tough. Covering her own inner turmoil, Alex gave a shoo-fly wave. “Forget that-it’s the weekend, right? You don’t have a run scheduled. Why don’t you go on in? Join the gang. They’ve got a regular party goin’ on.”

She’d started out, bent on making her escape, when it occurred to her. She said to Eve without turning back, “Oh, hey-you can have my burger, too, if you want it.”