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Not Even for Love(39)

By:Sandra Brown


“Danke schön,” they chorused before starting off again.

Helmut opened the envelope and read the brief message. He cursed under his breath. “Forgive me, both of you, but I must return to town. One of our company airplanes is missing somewhere over Canada. I must be on hand when word comes in.”

“Of course,” Jordan said, and hastily began placing the food back into the basket.

Helmut grabbed both her hands and stayed them. “No, Jordan. I feel badly enough as it is. I won’t spoil your day, too. You and Reeves stay and enjoy the picnic.”

“But, Helmut—” She started to object.

“There’s nothing either of you can do, darling. Nor can I, really. But I must be there in case the worst conjecture proves to be correct.”

“But—”

“I insist. Reeves, enjoy the day. I wish I didn’t have to desert you this way. Damn.”

“Don’t apologize, Helmut. I only hope that your airplane and its crew are found to be safe.”

“As do I,” Jordan murmured.

Helmut kissed her softly on the mouth and said, “I’ll try to call you later this evening, darling, if I can.”

“I’ll see that the basket is returned to the Europa and that Jordan gets home,” Reeves said.

“Thank you, my friend.” Helmut, thinking of business now, turned and jogged down the hill, then disappeared behind some towering pines.

Jordan stared after the retreating figure, aware that she was once again alone with Reeves on what should be an idyllic outing. Reeves was aware of their isolation, too. The tension between them was palpable. She was afraid to meet his eyes, not able to guess what his mood might be. He ended the suspense.

“Well, get busy, woman. I’m starving,” he said, and flipped back the cover of the basket again.

“Haven’t you heard of women’s liberation?” she snapped.

“Yeah. Whose rotten idea was that?” he scowled.

In the long run he helped her unload the basket. To their delight, Helmut’s idea of a picnic was ludicrous. Silver lids capped glass jars of pâté, caviar, smoked salmon, and smoked oysters. A cold baked chicken had been rid of bones and trimmed of fat. There was a selection of relishes, including pickles, olives, deviled eggs, and preserved fruit. Several loaves of bread, the crusts hard and golden, the centers soft and white, were wrapped in linen towels. Whole cheeses and a crock of butter were still cool. A box of chocolates and a selection of pastries were included for dessert. A bottle of white German wine, a bottle of cognac, and a thermos of coffee had been secured to the side of the basket so they would stand upright. China plates, linen napkins, and silver cutlery were packed into the bottom of the hamper.

“My God,” Reeves exclaimed. “Who did he expect to feed?”

“What I can’t figure out is how he carried it all up here. I had no idea how heavy that basket was. Did you?”

“No. I’m only glad he didn’t ask me to help him!”

They ate until they couldn’t hold any more. They drank most of the wine, but Jordan suggested that Reeves replace the cork rather than try to drink it all or they might have to stagger down the hill. She demolished the box of Swiss chocolates. He ate two of the pastries, licking the rich fillings off his fingers.

They had barely made a dent in all the food, so they conscientiously repacked the remains in the hamper. When that task was done, Jordan stood up and stretched. “I’ve got to walk some of this off.”

“Good idea,” he said. “I wanted to go a little higher anyway.”

“Who’s going to carry the basket?” she asked.

He frowned down at it, knowing that their lunch hadn’t appreciably lightened the basket. “I’ll make a deal with you,” he offered. “If you can get the camera case, I’ll take the basket.”

“All right,” she said.

“Are you sure? It’s pretty heavy.”

“Well, the backpack isn’t. I don’t think I’ll have any problem.”

When they were loaded and their gear was adjusted comfortably, they began walking higher up the mountain. The grass gave way to rockier ground, though they were still in the timberline and the incline wasn’t steep. Other hikers were still in evidence, though most had stayed on the plateaus below.

“Have you ever done any serious mountain climbing, Reeves?” she asked breathlessly as she clambered along beside him.

“Are you kidding?” He shot her a dark look.

She laughed. “Oh, yes. I forgot about your acrophobia.”

“Anyone who hangs off the side of a mountain for no good reason is crazy.”