Now and Forever by Barbara Bretton Page B

clear. Not that he was going to let that stop him, but it was something to consider.
    The rasp of the doorknob being turned brought him up short. Maybe she'd reconsidered Tahiti....

    #

    "He might be sleeping," Emilie said to Andrew McVie as the door to the lighthouse swung open. "We should--"
    No such luck.
    "What took you so long?" Zane demanded as they entered the room. "If we're going to make that plane, we'd better--"
    Poor Andrew stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Zane as if he'd encountered a hungry bear in his den. A hungry bear with a brightly-colored quilt knotted at his waist. Nervous laughter tugged at her but she swallowed hard in an attempt to control it.
    "This is Andrew McVie," said Emilie, forcing a pleasant smile and praying Zane would see the plea in her eyes. "I am afraid this is his home in which we have sought refuge."
    Andrew stepped forward. He seemed unconcerned at the difference in their heights and Emilie had the feeling that, appearances notwithstanding, the two men were more evenly matched than either might care to admit. "I have yet to learn your name, sir."
    Emilie sensed rather than saw Zane's hesitation as he extended his left hand. Did he remember her stories about Andrew McVie's heroic exploits? Please, God, let him forget....
    "Zane Grey Rutledge."
    "What manner of name is Zane Grey?" asked Andrew, obviously puzzled. "Are you German?"
    Zane met Emilie's eyes. "Is this guy kidding?"
    She could only shake her head miserably.
    Zane turned back to McVie. "I'm named after Zane Grey."
    Andrew looked at him blankly.
    "The writer," Zane persisted, apparently enjoying the other man's confusion. "He wrote westerns. Cowboys...Indians...the last frontier."
    McVie had yet to take Zane's outstretched hand. "Cowboys?"
    "Okay, I give up." Zane backed away, shaking his head. He looked again toward Emilie. "What's going on here?"
    McVie glared at the taller man. "I must ask you to refrain from such language in front of Mistress Emilie."
      Zane's lips twitched as if he was about to laugh but apparently he thought better of it. "Isn't this carrying the whole Revolutionary War thing too far, McVie?"
    Both men turned to Emilie who wished quite fervently that she had disappeared along with the crimson balloon and the basket.
    "I do not know what you mean, Zane," she said demurely, then turned toward Andrew. "I am afraid Mr. Rutledge hit his head upon the rocks when we ran aground. He is still discombobulated."
    Andrew visibly relaxed.
    Zane, however, was beyond understanding. Discombobulated? What the hell kind of word was discombobulated ? "I don't know what in hell's going on around here, but if somebody doesn't give me some answers soon, I--"
    "Leave the room, Mistress Emilie," said Andrew, not taking his eyes from Zane. "Mr. Rutledge and I have a most pressing matter to discuss."
    "The only thing I want to talk about is getting to the airport on time to make my plane."
    "Air-port?" He looked toward Emilie. "His injury may be more grave than you feared. He speaks nonsense." Zane approached the smaller man, bristling with righteous male indignation. "Why don't you try saying that to my face?"
    Emilie stepped between the two men. "Please! We forget why we're here, gentlemen. Zane's arm needs tending and the hour grows late even as we stand here."
    Zane looked down at her, his handsome features creased in puzzlement. "You sound weird."
    "It must be your imagination."
    "The hell it is."
    McVie stepped forward. "Rutledge, I fear your manner is insulting to Mistress Emilie."
    Zane's mood slid from bad to worse. "If 'Mistress Emilie' has a problem with my manner, she'll tell me."
    "Your arm," said Emilie. "Please...."
    "Lie down on the bed," McVie ordered Zane. "Mistress Emilie, bring me a thick branch from the stack of kindling near the cellar door."
    "That guy's not laying a hand on me," Zane snapped, barring Emilie's departure. "Don't you have an emergency room in this town?"
    "We will have," said