Whirlwind. Nancy Martin

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Whirlwind - Nancy  Martin


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people you cared about.”

      Alyssa said more, but Cliff had stopped listening. She didn’t know everything. Not the worst, anyway. She knew why he’d gone into the hills and befriended the people of that mountain village. She knew how he’d found himself trapped with them when the enemy struck. He’d learned from the Hmongs and taught them his own skills, and they’d fought together. They’d managed to find escape routes for women and children.

      But after that...well, he’d been unable to tell Alyssa the rest of his story. Perhaps she could guess the kinds of atrocities he’d seen. Maybe she imagined what he’d done to survive and to shepherd the innocents to safety. But Cliff couldn’t bring himself to tell gentle Alyssa Baron about the nightmare he’d lived in Cambodia.

      Nor could he tell her how terrified he was that it might happen all over again—that the bonds of reason might snap inside him and trigger something horrible.

      Alyssa’s hand was on his arm again, and she shook him. “Cliff,” she said severely, “stop thinking like that! Stop it! You’re only making it worse for yourself!”

      Maybe she was right. With an effort, Cliff pulled his mind back from the quagmire of his past.

      “I’ll be okay,” he said.

      She smiled up at him, kindhearted and beautiful. “I know you will.”

      Cliff left her on the hillside picking flowers. He didn’t tell her about Liza.

      He returned to the lodge a couple of hours later. He didn’t keep track of time, but his stomach started growling, so he headed back through the woods, not sure what lay ahead.

      He found Liza on the wide front porch. She’d dragged one of the old wicker chairs outside and sat in it with her bare feet propped up on the railing, long bare legs stretched out and a sketchbook propped in her lap. A huge pair of sunglasses obscured her eyes and reinforced her spoiled-starlet look.

      Cliff stopped at the bottom of the steps, half afraid to get any closer. She looked beautiful and unstoppable—a predatory female looking for trouble. He hesitated in the trees, not ready for another volatile confrontation.

      “Good news,” Liza called, catching sight of him and smiling broadly as he warily approached. “My car can be fixed.”

      “Good news indeed,” Cliff replied sourly, mounting the porch steps. “You can leave.”

      “Not yet. Carl had to take it to his garage to make the repairs.”

      “That means you’re stranded here.”

      “You got it. We’re all alone together, Forrester.”

      She laughed and peeled off her sunglasses, to pin him with an observant gaze. Her dangly earrings caught the sunlight, and the black devil winked at him. “You ran off,” she said. “Just when things were heating up.”

      “I tend to stay away from heat.”

      “That’s a mistake,” Liza pronounced with a catlike smile. “A little fire’s good for the soul.”

      “My soul’s just fine,” he retorted.

      She eyed him again, but didn’t go so far as to accuse him of lying. Instead, she pulled her feet off the railing, crossed her legs, tapped her sketchbook and said airily, “I’ve made a few decisions while you were out.”

      “Oh?”

      “I’m going to stay here awhile.”

      Cliff nearly choked. He wanted to explain, to warn her. There was danger here, didn’t she see that? He struggled to put the right words together. “Miss Baron—”

      “And I’m going to fix up the lodge. I’m going to make it into a resort.”

       “What?”

      She grinned at his reaction, twirling her colorful sunglasses. “It’s a good idea, don’t you think? This place could be fabulous. It was really special years ago, and it could be great again. All it needs is a little TLC, and fortunately, I find myself with a little free time on my hands.”

      “Hold it—”

      “So I’ve been making lists and drawing some ideas. I thought I’d start with the common areas first—the dining room, then the bar and lounge.”

      “Wait just a—”

      Liza didn’t listen, but began to outline her plans with blithe enthusiasm. “The kitchen’s a real wreck and will need a major overhaul if it’s going to serve many guests, but I like the rustic flavor of everything else, don’t you? If you ask me, rustic is making a comeback.”

      “Will you please—”

      “I’ll need some fabric books, of course. The place really cries out for chintz, right? And wall coverings will have to be chosen with caution, since—”

       “Will you shut up for one minute?”

      She blinked. “Sure. Something on your mind, Forrester?”

      He was filled with dread and anger. Throttling both emotions, Cliff managed to grind out, “Just what the hell are you doing?”

      “Aren’t I making myself clear? I’m going to refurbish—”

      “Why?”

      “Why? Why not, for heaven’s sake? It’s beautiful up here!”

      “The only way it’s going to stay beautiful is if people leave it alone! You can’t fix this place up. People will start coming here and tramping through the woods, running powerboats on the lake—”

      “Of course they will! It’ll be lovely!”

      “It’ll be horrible!”

      She laughed at him. “You can’t keep the lodge a secret, Forrester. It’s been your private playground long enough. We’re going to make it look wonderful, and people from all over will come and—”

      “We?” he snapped. “Who’s we?”

      “You and me, of course. You could use some real work to do, I think, to snap you out of this hermit phase. With my creative ideas and your strong back—”

      “Go to hell, Miss Baron!”

      “What’s the matter?”

      He threw himself into pacing up and down the porch, trying not to think about breaking her neck on the spot. “For one thing, I have not been placed on this earth to do your bidding, Miss High and Mighty! And secondly, I hate the whole idea and refuse to have any part of it! I have a deal with your grandfather, which says I can stay here alone in exchange for the job of taking care of—”

      “We can discuss the quality of your fishy work some other time,” Liza said dryly. “Meanwhile, I think we should concentrate on the future and—”

      “My future has nothing to do with your future,” Cliff snapped, standing over her. “So you can forget about me fixing up the lodge for any reason whatsoever.”

      She began to tap her pencil, calmly and deliberately. “I’m sorry to hear you say that, Forrester,” she said. “It’s a good thing that blood is thicker than water, I guess.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “That my granddad has the final say. And I know he’s going to tell me I can do whatever I like.”

      Cliff balled up his fists and choked down a shout of complete fury.

      Liza smiled demurely up at him from her chair. “Let me be honest, okay? I need a project, Forrester. I’ve arrived at a crossroads in my life, and this is the perfect thing for me. I’m going to do it.”

      Seeing the gleam in her eye, Cliff had no doubt she was going to get exactly what she wanted.


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