Death in High Places - By Jo Bannister Page 0,49

but mostly I was planning the next day’s climb or sorting out my ropes or whatever. I liked the guy, I had a lot of time for him as a climber and he was good company in a bivouac, but I can’t honestly say I was riveted by his love life. I listened with half an ear, to be polite.”

He managed a little smile. “Looking back, I think maybe I was a bit dim. I’m not good at social chitchat, mainly because if it doesn’t involve ropes and pitons I can’t work up much interest. But I should have paid more attention. Maybe then I’d have put it together. Maybe what he said that last night in the tent wouldn’t have come as such a goddamned shock.”

His eyes still hadn’t shifted from her face, and Beth felt somehow helpless to break their hold. She didn’t know what was coming. She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like it. There seemed no possible way now to avoid it.

“You want me to tell you his famous last words? What he said as he cut the rope? You’re sure—you really want to know? We can keep the genie in the bottle: we can’t put it back once it’s out. Do you want me to tell you what Patrick said before he fell?”

She whispered, “Yes.”

Between the bruises Horn’s weather-darkened face was the gray of old leather, but his eyes blazed like a hawk’s. There was no longer any kind of victory there, though, only grief and excoriating remembrance. The words came thick in his throat. “He said he loved me.”

CHAPTER 10

“YOU’RE LYING.”

Beth couldn’t imagine who’d spoken. It didn’t sound like her voice; and in fact it wasn’t saying what she believed. She’d have given anything to think that this was the lie and one of the other stories he’d told—any of them—was the truth. But it explained things for which she’d never had an explanation before. She’d known things weren’t right between them. At the same time she’d known Patrick cared for her, wouldn’t want to hurt her. She’d known, somewhere in her heart, that there was someone else. But she’d told herself that Patrick Hanratty wasn’t the kind of man to play away—that if he was in love with someone else, or just didn’t like her enough anymore, he’d have been honest with her. He wouldn’t have let her go on thinking there was a future for them.

But what if it wasn’t another girl he’d fallen in love with? Maybe he hadn’t known how to tell her, or even what to tell her. Maybe he hadn’t known himself whether this was a passing madness or the way his life was turning. Maybe he didn’t want to say anything about it, not even to her, until he understood better himself what was going on. Didn’t want to lose her, and shock and alienate his family—including his thug of a father—until he could still the turmoil in his brain enough to work out what he wanted and what he could reasonably expect to have.

He’d never expected to die on Anarchy Ridge, leaving her with so much unfinished business she’d been unable to move on with her life.

Horn grinned savagely. “Of course I’m lying. The trick is knowing which are the lies and which is the truth.”

“This is a lie.” It was Beth’s voice, but she knew as she said it that she was lying too.

“If that’s what you want to believe.”

“Patrick loved me…”

“I know he did. But it wasn’t your name he was yelling as he fell into the blizzard.”

“You bastard.” The whole of her body was shaking cold, except for the hot tears that spilled onto her cheeks. “You took him from me. You?”

Horn forced a dismissive laugh. “I didn’t want him. Except on my rope; except for a friend. I’d never thought of Patrick that way. I didn’t know he was thinking of me that way. When he talked about you and someone else, I thought he meant another girl. I’d have paid a bit more attention if I’d thought he meant me!”

“You didn’t even want him? I loved him!”

Horn shrugged. He may have hoped to convey nonchalance, lack of concern, even a little man-of-the-world amusement. But he wasn’t a man of the world—not in that sense, anyway. He was a joiner and a climber. He was a practical man, no good at nuances, bothered by complications. His casual shrug came across as awkward, gauche and uncouth. “But it wasn’t about either

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