The next night, he set up a Trivial Pursuit board. The night after that, they watched a movie on television. She would have gone to sleep immediately afterward if Rafe hadn’t heated up two mugs of mulled cider and brought them into the living room. And Thursday night she was so tired; the boys had been pistols all day. Rafe insisted that she go for a walk with him. The night was pirate-black and crisp and special; starlight sparkled on snow. He never touched her.
He just talked and made her talk. Not about kids. Once a day, he affirmed that there was no possible way he could handle the children without her, but after that, the subject of kids was banned. They discussed more important issues. Like how many whimsical hats she owned. Whether Bogart or Tracy was the best actor of the forties. How serious her allergy to clams was. How many stars filled the night sky. How many feet there were in a fathom.
Gradually, against her will, she could feel her pulse leaping as soon as the kids were in bed. Knowing she’d be with Rafe was like the promise of an ice-cream sundae after a sweltering day. Even during the most harrowing hours with the fractious twins, she knew relief was coming. He’d seen reason…she was so glad. She needed him as a friend, and he was such a good friend; any deeper emotional relationship would have cluttered up everything, and she was relieved that he finally saw that.
Today, though, she was having a small problem.
She tried again to free her hand from Rafe’s. He wasn’t exactly holding her hand like a handcuff or a vise or a chain, but every time she tried to ease her fingers free from his, his grip tightened.
This morning he’d suggested bringing the boys to see his lab. It had seemed like a terrific idea. It still seemed that way. The boys were talking ten for a dozen; Sarah and another of Rafe’s coworkers were in the room; and his lab was frankly as conducive to romantic feelings as a bucketful of dead fish.
“And this particular instrument is the only one in the country, Zoe…”
Dutifully, she inspected his laser-ranging equipment, then his magnetometer, tiltmeter, scintillation counter and the dozen other technical tools of his trade. A sane woman did not respond to such an environment like a nymphomaniac to a free bed. A sane woman did not come apart at the seams simply because a man was holding her hand.
“We don’t face much danger of major quakes here, but the potential for disaster from a small earthquake in snow country is incredible. The smallest tremor can set off an avalanche of dangerous proportions. And in the past twenty years, populations have increased around ski resorts to such an extent that…”
Yes. She heard him, but she couldn’t seem to seriously listen. A lock of hair drooped boyishly over his forehead. He talked about his work with his hands, with his smile, with a vitality and fascination that spilled over into his voice. His jeans fit just right this morning; he was wearing a yellow-and-gray plaid shirt that revealed the shape of his shoulders and chest.
“…so the information we’re gathering here can be used in the Alps, in Aspen, at the California ski areas. Wherever fault lines…”
“Yes,” she murmured obediently. But she already knew about fault lines. The major source of her personal earth tremors had misled her all week into believing she was safe. How could she be less than safe here in his lab, where he was showing the boys his work? And she was so sure she’d drilled personal feelings right out of her head and substituted concern about childcare instead.
The boys finally detached themselves from Sarah in the far corner and bounded toward them. “Uncle Rafe, we’re hungry,” Parker announced.
Her heart warmed at the way they looked at Rafe. On every occasion when she’d tried to discuss the kids, he’d expressed increasing doubts about his ability ever to handle them, and then he’d cut her off. He needed more time, she kept thinking…but the urchins didn’t realize that. Parker already knew he could count on Rafe even if the whole rest of the world fell apart. Aaron sidled up to Rafe for the hug or casual squeeze he knew was coming-Aaron craved those touches. Whether Rafe realized it or not, he knew instinctively what each child needed.
Really, it wasn’t strictly her fault she couldn’t stop falling in love with the man.
Once the children claimed his attention, though, she had the sense to remove her hand from his. “I’ll take them home for lunch,” she said swiftly. “We never meant to take up this much of your morning. I know you’re busy-”
“Not too busy for a picnic lunch with you and the boys. Sarah?” Rafe motioned to let her know they were leaving, and then gave Zoe a pensive frown. “You’re not exactly going to fit into my spare snowmobile suit.”
She raised both eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a major worry in my life?”
“Of course it is. You need to dress warmly if we’re going sledding.”
“What? And I don’t know what you meant about a picnic, but someone should have mentioned to you that it’s snowing outside.”
“Yes.”
“And this is a workday for you.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m taking the boys home for lunch.”
Poor Zoe, she still didn’t understand. Rafe zipped her into the huge old snowsuit she didn’t want to be zipped into, and had the boys in giggling fits when he had to fold and refold the cuffs to make it even marginally fit. He jammed a hat on her head and tucked in her hair possessively. She didn’t like that either.
“There is a lot of snow outside,” Zoe remarked.
“Hmm?”
“Picnics are for hot summer days. You need ants and lemonade for picnics. You need watermelon. You need sunshine.” It was like trying to explain to a brick wall. “I have lunch all ready for them at home…”
“Boys?” Rafe turned to the children. “Do you want to go home to plain old peanut butter, or do you want to cook hot dogs in the snow?”
On cue, the unanimous verdict was “Hot dogs in the snow! Come on, Snookums!”
She gave in-only because of the boys, of course. Rafe felt a moment’s guilt for using the urchins to win an argument, but it didn’t last long. Over the past week, he’d discovered that she was seriously prepared to play this silly “we can be friends” routine forever. He’d hoped that by defusing a little sexual tension, he could help her build trust and confidence in him, make her see that they had something special between them. But Zoe could apparently hide behind her best perky smiles and keep her distance from him forever if he let her. Which he wouldn’t.
It was a sun-dazzled day. Rafe parked the Jeep just off the road in a stand of snow-laden trees. Just beyond the heavy firs lay a long sloping hill, crusty with the sun’s diamonds and ideal for sledding. He’d found the private retreat months before. Ever since he’d come here, he’d wanted to share it with Zoe.
“Does it strike you even the least little bit that this is slightly nuts?” she asked politely.
It struck him very strongly that Zoe was the most giving woman he’d ever met. As far as he could see, she never took from anyone. Once she realized the kids wanted the picnic, she’d never seriously hesitated. If they wanted the Nile, he figured she’d probably have the river shipped from Egypt. She fussed with things, like putting a spoonful of sugar in his coffee for him when he could obviously do it himself. Bickering kids were herded out of his sight-she thought she was making sure he saw only the best side of the boys. What he saw was that she had the gift of caring for people, smoothing over all the rough spots a person could encounter in a day.
He’d never once caught her thinking of herself. And an example of that was now. From the back of the Jeep, she was loading her arms with the tarp, hot dogs, buns, two thermoses…
“Zoe?” he asked patiently.
She turned back.
“I really think I could carry a little something.”