
NOTHING BUT TROUBLE
by
Lisa Mondello
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Lisa Mondello for SMASHWORDS
Nothing But Trouble
Copyright © 1999 by Lisa Mondello
First Edition published 1999 by Domhan Books
Second Edition published 2011
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
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Melanie Summers, a feisty zoologist with big dreams, has just made a deal with her father. She has to spend a full month in the Wyoming wilderness and show her father she can handle being in a remote area while managing her Type 1 diabetes before he'll agree to fund an expedition for her to go to Africa. She knows he's convinced she'll fail.
But she's not about to let any man underestimate what she can do. Especially not the sexy rodeo cowboy she's hired to help get her through the month in the wilderness.
Stoney Buxton needs to raise cash fast to save the family ranch after a barn fire injuried his father and left the family finances in ruin. Re-entering the rodeo circuit seems like the best way to get the money he needs. That is until Melanie Summers shows up at his ranch flashing easy money. To everyone else, her offer seems like the answer to all his prayers. But one look at her long legs and pouting lips and Stoney know this high society gal is going to be nothing but trouble for his cowboy heart.
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Ebooks available by Lisa Mondello
The Marriage Contract ##
All I Want for Christmas is You ##
The Knight and Maggie's Baby##
Nothing but Trouble
Cradle of Secrets -- Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense\*\*
Her Only Protector -- Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense\*\*
Yuletide Protector -- Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense
Fresh-Start Family -- Harlequin Love Inspired Romance
In a Doctor's Arms -- Harlequin Love Inspired Romance
## Fate with a Help Hand (Massachusetts) Series
\*\* Cradle Series
\*
This book is dedicated to Werner Naujoks with love.
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Book Club Discussion Questions
Excerpt of THE KNIGHT AND MAGGIE'S BABY
Excerpt of THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT
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NOTHING BUT TROUBLE
"Like I just told you, ma'am," Stoney Buxton said, glancing up through squinted eyes at the fair-skinned woman standing over him. "I'm a rancher. I don't do wilderness tours. You'll just have to find someone else to guide you through that terrain."
Though the sun floating in the cloudless sky in front of him made it difficult to see, he tipped the brim of his well-worn cowboy hat with the edge of the hammer he gripped between his fingers to get a better look at the young woman.
Now what in hell's blazes is this?
She stood there, all legs, eyes, and lips pouting down at him. A picture of beauty, polished and gleaming like Sunday silver. Her long legs--he noticed every inch of them as his eyes trailed the length of her--would do better wrapped around a man's waist. Even hidden beneath her smooth fitting jeans he could tell those legs were much too refined and delicate to take the hard living of trailing through Wyoming wilderness. Her red manicured nails shone bright in the mid-day sun and matched the vibrant shade of her full lips. Her eyes, a soft shade of cinnamon brown, held a determined fire that told him she wasn't going to back down, no matter what he threw at her.
Something was seriously wrong with this picture.
"Gerald Hammond from the General Store said that you were the best guide in the area. I want the best."
He saw her jaw set as a gentle breeze blew a wisp of hair over her forehead. She quickly brushed it away with an air of grace that spoke of money. Lots of it. Family money that paid for the designer clothes caressing every curve and valley of her body.
Pulling himself up to a stand, he stretched out the ache in his leg and his shoulder. That nagging ache was a constant reminder of the long days he now spent working the family ranch. And why he'd quit rodeo over a year ago.
"Old man Hammond said that, did he?"
"Yes."
"Well, he was mistaken. There are plenty of guides on the reservation that can take you safely through the Wind River Mountain Range."
Her chest heaved with an impatient sigh. "Yes, I know. But I need something a little more than what they're offering. Much more, in fact."
She didn't blink, even when he shifted closer. He had to admire that she didn't appear intimidated by him, seeing how he stood a good ten inches taller than her. Lord, but she smelled good, all sunshine and fresh rain mixed with a hint of vanilla. Bailing hay and stringing barbed wire didn't afford him much opportunity to be in the company the likes of this pretty little eyeful standing before him. It was just one more thing to remind him of what he was missing now that he was off the road and home for good.
"I don't think you understand, Miss...?" He flipped his hand, palm up and waited for her reply.
"Ms. Summers. Melanie Summers. And I understand perfectly. I understand that I am in need of a guide for the next four weeks." She sucked in a deep breath as he moved a step closer.
"What you're asking for is impossible at best." He shook his head at the absurdity of her request. "Have you ever been in the wilderness? Have you ever even saddled a horse?"
She lifted her chin defiantly, the spark in her soft brown eyes fired up like the heat of the sun beating down on them. Her voice was sure. "I know perfectly well how to ride, Mr. Buxton."
"I'm not talking equestrian jumps that a poodle could land at the country club. I'm talking wild terrain where you are no better than the animals that consider you their prey. Have you ever had eight hundred pounds of snarling grizzly breathing down your neck? Ever felt a hungry mountain lion's eyes on your back as she stalks you?"
She gasped softly, a small flash of uncertainty creeping into her sun filled eyes.
Stoney sputtered. "Just as I thought. Lady, roughing it isn't staying at the local motor lodge-"
Her eyes flew open in sudden surprise. "Wait a minute. The local motor lodge? My father got to you." She said the words as a statement, he noticed, as if she was already convinced that it was fact.
Stoney arched an eyebrow.
"This just stinks!" Balling her fists, she spun on her heels, muttering something unladylike under her breath as she took a few steps along the corral he'd been repairing in the feed yard. Her soft red cotton shirt clung to her back, defining the lines of her slender figure as she took each labored breath. He couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to run his hand along her small back.
As she turned to face him again, he saw that her determined fire was back. "No matter. This isn't between you and my father; it's between you and me. If you're holding out for more money, then fine. Whatever it is that he promised you for turning me away, I'll top in return for getting me safely through the next month."
"Look, lady, I haven't a clue what you're talking about. But my refusal has nothing to do with money."
She cocked her head in disbelief. Her anger had vanished with the dust and was replaced with blue-blooded charm. "Oh, it's always about money, isn't it?"
His jaw tightened. Yes, there was something definitely wrong here. And money had nothing to do with it. It had everything to do with this beauty standing in front of him, who was clueless about what she was getting her pretty little hide into. "No," he replied tersely.
"Mr. Buxton, I need your help."
"Tourist season is in full swing. I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding someone else."
He turned his back to her and began walking along the fence toward the barn, almost forgetting... Abruptly, he glanced up and saw the charred remains of the barn. The place where all his troubles had started just one year ago. It hadn't taken but a second for him to hear her boots digging into the dusty gravel behind him, jarring him from his thoughts.
"Then I'll do it myself," she said to his back.
His whole body stiffened. He angled back to read her face, to see if she was just being a spoiled rotten rich kid, trying to get her way, or if she was actually serious. Seeing her head held high and her arms crossed in front of her, he realized she was dead serious.
And dead she'd be if she stepped one boot into those mountains alone.
"You'll do no such thing." Frustration flaring, he lifted his dusty hat and forced his fingers through the thick crop of black hair before returning the hat to his head. "You just don't get it, do you? You're not asking me to take you on a theme park ride where you'll get to see the wonders of the world at a nice safe distance. This is God's country. The creatures that live up there don't know civilization, and you are no better than them. You could--probably will--get killed if you go out there alone." His lips twitched, taking a good long appraising look at the woman in front of him. "You might even chip a nail on that pretty hand of yours."
The condescending bastard! Melanie fumed inwardly. If there was one thing she didn't need right now was an overblown ego for a guide. Unfortunately, she knew it was foolish to venture out in the wilderness on her own, given her medical needs. She exhaled, feeling a prickly heat, caused by the sun and jet lag, settle along her spine. "I'm not exactly a babe in the woods, Mr. Buxton. In fact, I probably know more about those wild animals you fear will eat me alive than you do."
He tilted an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
Okay, he was kind of cute, she admitted to herself, in a primitive sort of way. She probably would have thought more about it if he didn't smell so much like a barnyard. Lord only knew how long he'd been baking out in the sun, gaining steam. But then again, cowboys in the rough and tough real world held little resemblance to the glamour that Hollywood gave them. "I'm a zoologist. I've studied all about animals and the wilderness-"
"Yes, but have you ever ridden that kind of terrain before? Met the beast face to face?"
He had her there. The only beast she'd ever encountered was him! Leading the sheltered life she had--albeit with protest--she hadn't had the chance to venture into anything more dangerous than a walk through the Bronx Zoo. But she was determined to change that starting now. The deal she'd made with her father held only one requirement. She needed to stay one month in the wilderness, and he'd keep the funding for the Kenya project alive. Now that her dreams were within reaching distance, she wasn't going to let some arrogant cowboy keep her down.
She answered honestly, with reluctance. "No."
His mouth twitched, then gave her a half grin that made her insides stir and her mouth go dry. "Just as I thought."
"But that doesn't mean--"
"After I'm done here, there's a long line of fence to repair before the weekend, Ms. Summer. I don't have the time to waste baby-sitting some city girl with romantic notions about experiencing the wilderness. I've got work to do."
Her blood burned through her veins. His dismissal of her may have signified the end of the conversation to him, but she was far from through with this overbearing cowboy.
Melanie followed his skinny little butt past the corral and all the way down a row of barbed wire rolled out on the ground along the fence, ignoring the reason she'd taken notice of his behind at all. "So do I. That's why I need to hire you."
He stopped short, and she almost plowed right into his back. Dust from the ground heaved up in a cloud, choking her. He twisted around and with his hard body mere inches from her, she had to crane her neck to look up at his face.
Immediately, she was sorry she'd taken a closer look. His rugged good looks and appeal were all too evident now. His shoulders seemed as wide as he was tall, giving him the kind of strength and power that had a woman longing to be wrapped in his arms. His thick dark hair, sweaty from working in the heat of the sun, curled around the edges of his cowboy hat. His features were sharply defined and his jaw was square. Although he'd yet to give up more than a quirk of a smile, she had the feeling that deep dimples marked his cheeks when he laughed.
He touched his hat by the brim and adjusted it on his head. "Look, there are more than a handful of outfitters in this territory. Any one of them would be more than willing to give you what you need for the right price."
Sure they would, Melanie groaned inwardly. And then all it would take would be a quick phone call from her father, promising a hefty deposit to the bank account of their choice and the deal would be over. She'd be on a plane back to Long Island before her lipstick wore off her mouth.
No, she needed Stoney Buxton. From what Gerald Hammond had said, he was good on a horse and solid in the range. Most of all, he was invisible. No matter how hard her father tried or what kind of money he tossed around, he'd never find Stoney Buxton. That was the only way she'd get a fair shot at proving herself.
Melanie snapped her gaze back toward the house on the opposite side of the corral with the sound of the screen door slamming. On the front porch she saw a man sitting tall in a wheelchair, glaring down at Stoney. "What in tarnation has got hold of you, son? Why don't you bring the girl in for a drink of something cool? Don't leave her baking out there with the animals."
"That's what she wants," she heard Stoney mumble under his breath. When she glanced up, his dark blue eyes met hers, and he grew flush. "Leave it to Pop to keep me in my manners. I'm sure Ma saw your car drive in and has something already set out for company. That is if you'd like something."
Well at least she wasn't getting hauled off the ranch like she'd suspected she would. It gave her more time to work on convincing Stoney to take her up on her offer. "That would be nice."
They walked to the small farmhouse in silence. When she'd arrived, she'd noticed the ranch was smaller than some of the others she'd passed in the area. But the farmhouse had a nice welcome feel about it that put her at ease. She hadn't noticed the ramp leading up to the front entrance when she'd pulled onto the property earlier. Stoney had been working by the corral, and she'd zeroed in on him as the point of contact.
A woman Melanie guessed to be Stoney's mother greeted them at the door and welcomed her with a wide smile. Melanie suddenly felt completely out of place in a world she'd never known. The house was simply decorated with a mix of Indian rugs, beaded crafts and old furniture that had seen years of wear. As simple as the home appeared, with its lace drapes and braided rugs, it felt warm and cozy, like the Velveteen Rabbit who'd been loved a lot. A lump formed deep in her throat and she didn't know why.
"My name is Adele," the woman said warmly.
"It's nice to meet you and..." Melanie swung around to greet the man in the wheelchair. She was caught by his overt appraisal of her, not quite sure it she met with approval or with censure.
"Wally Buxton," he said, finally rewarding her with a wide smile, revealing deep dimples. Melanie returned the smile, again wondering if Stoney had inherited the same gene.
"It's nice to meet you."
Stoney stood at the kitchen door, filling it completely with his height and bulk, holding his hat in one hand, his hammer in the other. "Well, if it's all the same to you, I've got some barbed wire that's been needing my attention." He put on his black hat and tipped it cordially before spinning through the door. Adele did nothing to hide the disappointment of his dismissal. Melanie fought to keep hers in check.
"Why don't you come into the dining room?"
Still looking at the empty doorway, she said, "I don't want to be any trouble."
"Oh, don't be silly. It's no trouble at all. I rather enjoy having the company. Since my daughter, Delia, got married and moved away, I don't get the opportunity to entertain much, except for these sweaty cowboys and they're not fit to be in my dining room half the time."
Melanie was raised with the finest that life had to offer. That included attending the best finishing schools that had groomed her to polish and shine herself for the world to see. What was expected of her all her life and given her parents pride at the many social functions she was forced to attend had always been the bane of Melanie's existence. Still, in unpretentious company, she was glad her good manners and grace were something she could draw on to put her hostess at ease. She only hoped that when she was finished visiting with Stoney's mother, Stoney himself would still be around for her to deal with on her own terms.
\*
Stoney shook out the pain in his throbbing thumb for the second time in the last fifteen minutes. Damn that hammer. Damn the fence. Damn Melanie Summers for showing up here, flashing easy money around as if he was some mongrel sniffing for tidbits.
He tossed the hammer to the ground and inspected the raw skin on his thumb. No doubt the nail would be black and purple by nightfall. Serves him right for thinking about Melanie sitting with his mom, no doubt telling her things a mother wants to hear. He had a hard enough time trying to convince his folks his decision to go back to rodeo was good for the ranch. He didn't need the likes of some city princess to do in all his hard work.
He heard the familiar sound of his father's wheelchair rolling over gravel and swung around to greet him.
"Almost done?" the elder Buxton asked.
"Done breaking my hand, if that's what you mean." He shook out the lingering throb in his thumb. "I still have the section of fence in the far side where the herd broke through yesterday. There's nothing but that old broken tree limb propped up, keeping most of the cattle inside the property line. After I'm through, I'll take a ride out to see if I can round up the strays."
He finally stole a quick glance at his father, who was just sitting in his chair, nodding his head. No outward emotion registered on his father's face, but Stoney knew it was there, buried somewhere, eating at him.
Before the accident, it would have been the two of them riding out together. But since a falling beam that struck him during the barn fire left him without the use of his legs, Wally Buxton was limited to what he could do at the ranch from the confines of his motorized wheelchair. Knowing his father's spirit would be broken if he couldn't do anything but watch from the porch as he worked the ranch, Stoney had constructed as many wheelchair friendly devices to allow his father to work his ranch. Given his father's determination and stubbornness--something both father and son shared--he'd made the best of it without much of a fuss. Still, there were times when his injuries were all too apparent and confining.
"I'm assuming the lady has some business with you," Wally said, eyeing Stoney with amusement. "You know her from the circuit?"
"Does she look like the kind that hangs at a cowboy bar?"
"No, but I can't figure how you'd meet up with a girl like her otherwise."
He tossed his father a wry grin. "Thanks a lot, Pop."
"She's got some accent. Sounds like she's from the East."
"I didn't ask."
"But you're wondering. I can tell. You've got Buxton blood running too strong through your veins not to notice a pretty thing like her."
"And Mom's no doubt pouring tea and planning my wedding, right?"
Wally laughed hard. "When was the last time you brought a woman out to the ranch for your momma to meet?"
"Never. And I'd like to keep it that way." Stoney couldn't help but laugh himself. The kind of woman he'd met during his time with the rodeo weren't fit for meeting mother.
Buckle bunnies. That's what some of the other cowboys called them. It was almost his due as a bull rider to have the prettiest offerings, and he'd taken what was offered when the time seemed right. No promises. No talks of commitment. It was the way it was.
It was the way he liked it.
Stoney watched as Wally stared out at the horizon for a moment, looking at the line of fence that bordered the property. This was the ranch he'd grown up on and his father before him. It was small in comparison to some of the other ranches in the area, but it earned them a good living, and it made them happy. Working together, they'd worked on expanding the ranch before the barn fire changed everything. But all those dreams died when the barn went up in flames.
"You going to tell me what her business is here?" Wally finally asked. "Or is she some well-kept secret?"
Stoney began hammering away at the barbed wire against the stake. "She wants a trail guide through the Wind River Mountains. I told her to go to the reservation."
There was a silence made unbearable by the sun beating down on him, showing no mercy. And Stoney knew what his father was wondering. How on earth had she landed here?
Stoney answered his unspoken question, finding it hard to look his father in the eye. "Gerald Hammond sent her."
There was another strained silence. Wally cleared his throat. "That was kind of him to be thinking of us."
"I guess."
"What did you tell her?"
"I don't have time for this. I've got too much work and with Mitch gone and..." Stoney blew out a frustrated breath and hammered with more force than necessary.
"Hammond must have thought it would be worth your while if he went out of his way to send the girl here."
Stoney stilled. He knew exactly what was on his father's mind. Medical bills left in the wake of Wally's injuries threatened to take hold. Although the money Melanie was offering to pay for his services would go a long way toward bailing out the ranch, it still wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. He'd weighed all their options, run the numbers backwards and forwards until his head hurt, and none of it looked good. Going back to rodeo seemed liked the answer to his prayers. A step in the right direction anyway.
The cowboy's Christmas is what they called it on the rodeo circuit. The biggest rodeos and the best purses were up for grabs for the best of the best during the month of July. Stoney would be up against the best bull riders the circuit had ever seen. Up until a year ago, he'd been considered one of the best. He was banking on that still being true.
"This last year was worse than we've seen in a long time for the ranch. Taxes are higher. Medical bills are out of control. We're running out of choices, son," Wally said, still looking out at nothing in the horizon.
Stoney felt his chest tighten. This ranch had Buxton blood and sweat all over it. He didn't want to think about what would happen if they lost is all. "I know, Pop. That's why I'm going back to rodeo. I made some good money before, and it's helped the ranch. There's no reason-"
"You know how your momma feels about you riding rodeo again. One cripple on this ranch is enough."
Fire spit through Stoney. He straightened his spine and towered over his father in the wheelchair. Before the accident, they use to meet eye to eye. "You're not a cripple, Pop," Stoney said, softer than the fire in him would have allowed if he hadn't taken control of it. Despite his obvious position over his father, Stoney felt like a little kid defending his hero. And his father had been--still was--his hero for all of his twenty-eight years. Being confined to a wheelchair had wounded his father's heart, but not his spirit. Wally Buxton still had the power of an ox.
They stared at each other for a long while, not needing words to hear their thoughts. That's the way it had been with them for as long as Stoney could remember. Wally was the one to break through the silence. "Come on. Your momma made some cherry pie and I'm sure Ms. Summers isn't going to touch it, so we might as well have at it."
He didn't have time for another break today. He'd already wasted too much time warding off Melanie Summers and her wild ideas. His work load had doubled since Mitch Broader, their only ranch hand, left to take care of family business back east. With his father out of commission, that left the brunt of the ranch's workload on Stoney's shoulders.
He blew out a resigned breath, knowing it was important to his father. "Sure, Pop."
He walked alongside the motorized wheelchair. He was getting accustomed to slowing his wide strides to keep in step with his father as the chair moved against the gravel. He stayed at his father's side out of respect the man deserved. His father rolled into the house before him.
He found Melanie sitting at the dining room table, one long leg draped over the other, a smile that seemed curiously triumphant written on her face. His mother wore an uplifted expression he hadn't seen in her for the better part of a year.
What the hell was going on?
Adele pushed the dining room chair aside so Wally could position his wheelchair at the head of the oak table. "Melanie and I were just having a lovely chat about her plans while she's in Wyoming."
Stoney eyed Melanie, a nagging suspicion floating up his spine. "Oh? And what would they be?"
Melanie averted her gaze for just a moment before lifting her soft brown eyes to him, shining a Cheshire cat grin, and giving fuel to that eerie feeling taking hold of his gut. One bat of her dark eyelashes and he knew he'd been had.
\*
"Didn't you hear a damn thing I told you by the corral?" Stoney said, storming out the door after Melanie. He'd held his anger in place long enough to make it out the screened door, slamming it in his wake. "You've got no business coming here, filling my family full of dreams that aren't going to come true."
Melanie spun on her boot heels, propped her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, and looked at Stoney over the wire rim. "I have every intention of fulfilling my end of the bargain."
"No one in their right mind would throw around that kind of money. My family has been through enough to-"
"Which is why I think this business arrangement will work out well for both of us."
"Now how do you figure on that? Who's gonna do all the work around here for the next month while I'm out there traipsing through the wilderness, keeping your pretty little hide alive. In case you hadn't noticed, we're a little short of hand right now."
"With the money I'm prepared to pay, you'll be able to hire someone to take your place. As for keeping me alive, I don't want any special treatment. I can hold my own."
Stoney sputtered. "That one is still open for debate. Do you even know what it costs to hire a ranch hand to work sun up to sun down for a whole month?"
"Fifteen thousand dollars is not all that much for what I'm asking," she said. It was much higher than she'd originally intended on paying, but a lot lower than she'd consider if Stoney could do for her what Gerald Hammond said he could.
Stoney's face hardened. "Money like that may be nothing to you, but it keeps bread on the table for working folks."
"I didn't mean to imply-"
"I know what you meant to do. You think you can buy me like a piece of stock at a cattle auction. I'm not for sale. And I'd appreciate kindly if you'd leave my family out of whatever death wish you have."
She stifled a retort about the death wish and kept to the pressing issue. I can't do that. This is much too important to me." He shook his head and stared at her like he was looking right through her.
She was struck by his strength once again as he fought to keep his control in check. The tight set of his jaw belied his control and she got the feeling he could lift her without any effort and toss her over the fence if she pushed him.
And she'd push him, all right. It meant that much to her to prove to her father and herself that she could last a whole month in the wilderness without the aid of medical intervention. Only then would her father agree to keep the funding for the Kenya project. But she knew her father. He was determined to keep her from going at all cost. And he had a lot more money than she could combat with which to do it.
"Adele told me about the hard times the ranch has had. This money could help you and your family. I'm glad to be able to do that for them. The only thing I ask is that no one knows we've gone."
"What's this all about? Why is this so important?"
"My reasons are my business."
He crossed his muscled arms across the expanse of his chest and studied her for a moment. "You wanted for something?"
She giggled at the sidelong look of suspicion he gave her. Not only because of the absurdity of it, but because he just looked too damned cute. "You've got an imagination to go along with all that muscle. No, I'm not on the run for any crimes." Only from my father and his control. But that was none of Stoney Buxton's business, and she was determined to keep it quiet.
He eyed her, the tick in his jaw twitching, telling her he didn't find any of this amusing.
She coughed out the rest of her laughter, knowing she wasn't going to get very far irritating him. He was a business man. She knew how to handle business men, although most of them wore designer suits and smelled of expensive cologne, unlike the sweat and dirt she smelled on Stoney. Still, she turned on her best charm. "Look, I don't know you."
"True enough."
"And I don't know what kind of struggles you and your family have gone through. That's really none of my business."
"Right."
"But it doesn't take much more than 20/20 vision to look around here and figure out you could use a little help."
He rolled his eyes and stepped off the porch stairs. "I'm not looking for charity."
"You need money," she said to his back.
Stoney swung around to face her again, tossing her a cool look. "And you're just the person to open the check book."
She cocked her head. "Don't be foolish. This could help both of us. You don't look like the type of man to shy away from honest money."
He drew in a deep breath and could hardly look her in the eye. She knew he wouldn't step anywhere near her request if it held the stench of a handout. Men like Stoney were as complicated as the earth was old and the ground ran deep. For him, it had to be honest and earned. Nothing less would do.
"I'm not looking for you to carry my bags or draw the bath water," she said when he didn't respond.
His laugh was rich and hard and he dipped his gaze beneath his dusty leather hat, shaking his head. When he lifted his head again, she saw them. He had dimples. Deep, and completely adorable. Her heart betrayed her confidence and fluttered wildly.
"Good, because you'd be sadly disappointed."
She forced air into her lungs and placed her hand on her chest to steady her rampant heartbeat. "I've checked out the prices the other outfitters are charging for extended trailing. It's only right that I pay a little more since I'm asking for a personal guide. This isn't a handout, just a fair business arrangement. I'm prepared to make the same offer to one of the other outfitters, too. That is if you're stubborn enough to decline."
He took a long appraising look at her, much like a man does when he finds a woman attractive, as if he was weighing the option to pass her by or dip his head and kiss her waiting lips. It filled her with a strange sense of longing she couldn't define.
"I may be stubborn, lady, but I'm far from dumb."
Her eyes widened, almost afraid to believe her good fortune. "So what are you saying? Will you help me?"
He rolled his dark eyes, kicked his dusty cowboy boot in the hard, dry dirt, and said almost under his breath, "I'm gonna live to regret this." Then looking at her straight on with sapphire eyes as dark as a moonless night, he said, "You've got yourself a guide."
# # #
"Just so you know, this won't be some cushy ride."
Melanie listened to Stoney's deep baritone voice as he sputtered, hanging on his tail as he ground his dusty cowboy boots in the path leading to the house. He stopped short and swung around again, and she almost plowed into his hard body for the second time that day. Why did he keep doing that?
He thumbed his chest. "Remember one thing, I call the shots. You got it? If you so much as think of going against my instructions, the deal is off," he said, slicing the air with his splayed hand.
"I asked for your help. If I didn't need your experience, I wouldn't have put myself through this..." She stopped herself from going any farther and bit the skin on her bottom lip, not wanting to let her big mouth get the best of her good fortune.
To her surprise, Stoney just cast a slow, sexy smile that under different circumstances would have made her insides stir. Okay, she was stirring, she admitted to herself. What irritated her more was that she was suddenly thinking about how Stoney's deep blue eyes made her knees weak instead of what she'd set out to do this morning. That wasn't a good sign at all.
"You think I'm being tough, huh? You ain't seen nothing, Sunshine."
She lifted her chin defiantly, as she'd done so many times before when she was standing in her father's study, trying to argue why she should do something that meant a great deal to her. In those instances, she usually lost the fight. She was determined to win now. "I'm up for anything you can dish out."
"I won't be dishing out anything. I'll leave that to the good old Wind River Mountains. That ought to be enough for you to handle. When were you planning to leave?"
"Ah, right away. Tomorrow if we can."
He shook his head and knotted his arms across the wide expanse of his chest, stretching his denim shirt tight across his shoulders. "Impossible. I'm going to need more time to find someone to take my place here."
Melanie drew in a deep breath and remained firm. "It's important we leave as soon as possible. How soon can you get a replacement?"
He opened the screen door leading to the house and paused with one boot on the threshold. Angling back to her, he said, "We'll see after I start making some calls. If I'm going to be off this ranch for the next month, I'm going to need someone full time. That may be hard to find. Where's your gear?"
"My luggage is in the trunk of my car," she said, waving her hand back at the sedan she rented at the airport.
"Luggage? How much did you bring?"
"Four bags and a carry on for the plane."
His dark eyebrows drew together and he frowned. "This ought be good. Well don't just stand there, bring it on in and we'll take a look at it. When we're through, we'll take a ride out to Hammond's store for anything essential you might have forgotten to pack. I'd say old man Hammond is deserving of a good visit from me right about now."
\*
Stoney watched from between the white lace curtains of the kitchen window as Melanie struggled with her suitcases and plopped them on the front porch. He couldn't take his eyes off her was more like it. And that was just the beginning of his trouble. There was the matter of trying to get the woman to part with those non-essentials that he was sure Melanie had packed in her luggage. His sister Delia had always insisted they were a vital part of every woman's life. When would women ever learn that nail polish and herbal shampoos weren't a necessity in the wild?
Then there was the matter of securing a ranch hand. Black Rock Ranch wasn't big enough to have a whole herd of cowpokes to keep it running. And a good ranch hand was hard to come by on such short notice. Most everyone worth having was already out working at one of the bigger ranches, making better money than he could afford to pay them.
He sucked in a short breath and felt a bead of sweat trickle down his cheek as Melanie sat on the edge of the porch and gracefully crossed one long, slender leg over the other.
What in God's name was he doing agreeing to take a city girl like her up into the hills? Women like Melanie Summers vacationed on the banks of some expensive resort town in Europe or the Caribbean. They didn't trudge their way through the foothills of Wyoming. They skied Aspen and spent lots of money on fancy hotels and things they wanted but didn't need. They didn't come strutting onto his ranch, asking him to take a month out of his life to guide them through the mountains.
Luggage. That's what she'd called it. He groaned inwardly, punching in the telephone number, and then waited for someone to pick up on the other end of the line. She wouldn't last a day, let alone a month. He'd seen her type a hundred times. They come to God's country, looking for a little peace of mind they'd spotted in a travel brochure and complain about how they can't get the little conveniences of life along with the pleasures of nature. All this trouble and they'd probably turn around and head home in a few days.
Maybe it was just as well, he thought with a sigh as he hung up the line, deciding he wasn't going to catch Rob Johnson at home today. He didn't really like the idea of being away from the ranch what with medical bills still pouring in and the balloon payment on the mortgage they'd taken out three years ago to buy the rest of old man Wiltermeir's property due too soon for him to want to think about. At least if he was here, he'd be on top of whatever crisis came their way. How the hell could he spend a whole month in the mountains when all he'd do is think about whether or not he'd have his ranch to come home to?
He'd called his cousin Joshua Lightfoot, who lived and worked in the clinic on the Wind River Reservation as a doctor, hoping he could recommend some help for the ranch. Joshua was the son of his mother's sister. She'd marriage an Arapaho Indian she'd met at the Frontier Days Rodeo around the same time Stoney's parents met. When they were younger, he and Joshua had traipsed through the wilderness--practically lived in the mountains--until Joshua went to medical school and Stoney started riding rodeo. Although he'd reached Joshua, he was disappointed to learn there wasn't anyone on the reservation that he could recommend. He'd offer to help himself, but he was tied up getting ready for a new intern who was coming to work at the clinic on the reservation in September.
Frustration surged to the forefront. "All this to turn around and come home in a few days," he muttered to nobody but himself.
Although Mitch Broader would have been his first choice, Stoney dialed his number last. He hadn't heard from Mitch since he'd gone back East for his father's funeral and heard he'd only recently come back to town. He dialed him up on the chance he'd be home.
Mitch had been working at Black Rock as a full time ranch hand for the better part of eight years. He'd grown up in the city and moved out to Wyoming at seventeen when his parents divorced. He'd dodged the gangs that plagued most inner city communities and embraced the simple life once he'd found the serenity of Wyoming's wide open land. He loved ranching as much as any man with country blood running through his veins. Like many ranch hands Stoney knew, Mitch had talked about one day having a spread of his own.
Stoney owed a tremendous debt to Mitch, one that could never be repaid. It was Mitch who'd been there for his father and pulled him from the barn fire. The beam that fell on Wally could have cost him his life. And Mitch had been there to save him.
Stoney should have been there. It still ate at him that he was out riding rodeo when the barn went up in flames and it seemed all their hopes and dreams had gone up with it. And it killed him that he was going to leave the ranch again.
"Hey, buddy, you made it back," Stoney said when he recognized Mitch's voice.
"I almost didn't. I just got back a few days ago," Mitch said. "Still have my suitcase full of dirty laundry. What's up?"
"I need a favor." Stoney outlined the course of events leading up to Melanie's offer. And although Mitch's take on it was one of pure amusement, a kind of "you lucky dog" attitude, he'd agreed to fill in at the ranch, seven days a week, for the next month. Stoney should have felt relieved he was leaving the ranch in good hands, but the feeling of not being there still gnawed at him.
Half an hour later, Stoney found Melanie on the porch, drinking iced tea with his mother and fanning herself from the heat with a folded road map. Adele was beaming with the sheer pleasure of having some female company at the house. It had been a long time since he'd seen her smile that way. If Melanie Summers was responsible for giving her that smile, then he was at least grateful for that.
He cleared his throat and the two women looked up.
Adele rose from the Adirondack chair she'd been sitting in and brushed her hands on the front of her apron. "I'll let you two get down to your business. Can I get you anything, hon?" she asked Stoney.
He shook his head.
When the screen door closed behind Adele, Stoney turned his attention to Melanie. "You're in luck. Day after tomorrow we can get started. You can stay here in my sister's old room until we leave, if you'd like. That is, if you haven't already made other arrangements in town."
Melanie shook her head, tossing her brown curls back and forth on her rounded shoulders. "I don't want to intrude."
"Ma will be happy to have some female company for a while. Even if it's only a day or two." He pointed to the leather suitcases lined up neatly in a row on the porch. "Let's see if we can consolidate some of this...stuff."
Melanie threw him a questioning stare.
"You weren't planning on taking all this gear." He said the words as a statement, hoping she understood the meaning.
And she did, he noticed, as a slight blush crept up her cheeks, bringing with it a delicate side that he hadn't seen until now. "I suppose I won't be needing all of it," she said sheepishly.
His insides suddenly felt warm. "Good. Progress. First off, you're going to need a decent pair of hiking boots."
He watched her dip her gaze to survey the riding boots she had on. They looked brand spanking new as if she'd gotten them at some flashy store in New York City. The leather was soft and the sole was flat. "What's wrong with these? I usually use these for riding."
Figures. Poodle jumps. "We'll be riding, but they're no good. Look at the sole. You need something with a good sole for gripping rocks. And you have to be prepared. What if your horse goes lame while we're up there? You'll have to walk him easy alongside of you. He won't be able to take the weight of you on his back. You won't last an hour hiking in those."
Awareness sparked in her cinnamon eyes. He wondered just how many men had been unknowingly put under a spell just by gazing into the those eyes. Never mind, he told himself. It was no time to be thinking with any part of his body but the head that held his hat.
"I saw some trail boots at the store."
He nodded and waved a hand to the rest of the luggage. "As for the rest of this, everything is going to have to stay here unless it is absolutely essential."
"It is. All of it."
A grin tugged at his lips and he couldn't help but tease her. "You do realize a hair dryer isn't going be much good, seeing there'll be no electricity."
She scowled at him, her jaw set. "I suppose one or two bags can stay here."
"See if you can get it down to one bag. We'll be needing the room for enough supplies to last us a month."
She was standing now, balling her fists at her side. "I'm not going to wear the same clothes for a month and smell like-"
"Me?" His lips were twisted into a wry grin.
"You said it."
Damn, but she was pretty when she was all riled up. He resisted the urge to goad her more. "We'll be camping near a stream or a pond most nights. You can rinse out any unmentionables then and hang them to dry overnight."
Her cheeks flamed again, as if the thought of her lacy underwear--yes, she was the kind of woman who'd wear lace--hanging on a line in Stoney's full view was too much. Actually, the thought of seeing a woman as pretty and fine as Melanie Summers out of her underwear was darned appealing. Heat coiled inside him and he blinked hard to rid himself of his thoughts. Had it really been so long since he'd had himself a woman?
She looked as if she were thinking, maybe assessing all the items packed neatly in her designer luggage. "I need two bags."
"One."
"Look, I'm compromising here. I won't take more than what is absolutely necessary, but I do need the two."
He propped his fists on his hips and heaved an impatient sigh. "I was raised that it was impolite for a man to go searching through a woman's delicates, but if I have to-"
"I'll get it down to two small bags!"
My, oh, my what a fire Melanie Summers had bursting through her, Stoney thought with amusement. A ray of sunshine one minute and a wild fire out of control the next. One month alone with nothing but the wide open range and a citified beauty to keep out of a heap of trouble. This ought to be as wild as an eight second ride.
Gerald Hammond's store was located on a downtown main street that looked like most other Main Streets in rural America. Nothing fancy or pretentious about it. Practicality was the name of the game. Where else could you buy a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk along with all the hunting and hiking gear needed to outfit a Boy Scout troop?
"This map lists all the known hot springs up there in the hills," Hammond was telling Melanie. She leaned her slender body over the counter and looked on with genuine interest. A strand of her dark hair fell forward and dangled between the swells of her breasts. "There's nothing like taking a dip in one of those springs after a long day in the saddle."
"Oooh, that sounds so nice," Melanie said, taking the proffered map.
"Stoney'll get you there. You be sure to check them out."
"I will."
Stoney plopped two pairs of hiking boots on the counter and stared stone-faced at Gerald Hammond. Hammond cleared his throat as he caught the rough edged gaze.
Pushing the shoes in front of Melanie, Stoney said, "There's a bench over on the far wall back there. One is size seven and a half, the other is eight. Why don't you try them on and check the fit with some heavy socks and see which is a better fit."
Melanie gripped both pairs of boots between her fingers and paused just a second to notice the hard look on Stoney's face. To his relief, she turned on her heels and headed to the back of the store without giving her two cents worth. Maybe she was figuring she'd caused enough trouble. That'll be the day.
Stoney waited until Melanie was well out of earshot to begin speaking. "We're not a charity case, Gerald."
"Now, Stoney, you know how much folks around here look out for each other. Hell, Wally and me use to go fishing through those same mountains when we were barely higher than this counter. Don't let foolish pride make you spit out honest earned money just because it was fed to ya. It ain't charity to send money in the direction it can do some good."
"You knew my father would want me to take this job."
"Damn straight. You were a solid bull rider on the circuit. I'll give you that one. But your family needs you on Black Rock. You ain't gonna to do them any good, especially since your father..."
Stoney felt the pulse in his tightened jaw. "He may not have the use of his legs, but Pop is determined to continue working his ranch."
Gerald's face eased. "I've known Wally all my life. He's hard workin' and he'll do what he can. But you're not going to do him any good if some bull does a dance all over your hide again. I know what you're thinkin', but rodeo is no way to bail out the ranch. Not this time."
"I'm not riding every nickel and dime rodeo. Cheyenne has a big purse-"
"Forget Cheyenne!" Gerald said, slamming his fist on the counter. The sound echoed off the walls of the store. The craggy lines in Hammond's worn face deepened, making him look almost frightening. "Aren't you hearing me, son? You don't have a whole lot of time to be wasting. There's no guarantee you'll get a check just for riding."
"So you sent me some city woman who's never stepped foot in the mountains before?"
"It's been a bad year all around for everyone. Beef prices aren't getting any higher and what you do get is taken away by the land taxes. What are you going to do? Sell the ranch? Isn't that the only thing left?"
Stoney fell silent, a vice squeezing his chest. As far as he was concerned, selling off the ranch was the last thing he'd do. And then, only with the last breath he took.
Gerald pointed to the back of the store where Melanie had finished trying on the hiking boots and was now browsing through some paperback books on a metal rack. He kept his voice low. "I think Melanie Summers is the answer to your troubles."
"I appreciate you thinking of my family, Gerald. Really, I do. But you couldn't be more wrong." Stoney glanced back at the store where Melanie lifted her gaze from some book she'd plucked from the stacks. She threw him a sweet smile. That smile alone was enough to ignite a flame in him so strong, he felt his inside burn with desire. A whole month alone with this highfalutin gal wreaking havoc with his peace of mind was going to be torture. He had a whole month ahead of him of trying to remember that he was raised to be a gentleman in the company of a lady. But there was nothing gentlemanly about the way Melanie Summers was stirring his insides. "I'll bet my last nickel this woman is nothing but trouble."
\*
Melanie woke the next morning to the sweet sound of birds singing outside her open window and pots and pans clanking in the kitchen below her bedroom. The plan was for her and Stoney to start out early Saturday morning. Only Melanie wished she didn't have to wait another whole day to get started.
Hanging around the ranch there wasn't much chance of someone finding out she'd hired Stoney. The chances of it getting back to her father were slim. But Gerald Hammond seemed to have a penchant for small talk with all the customers who came and went. If her father had enlisted the help of a snooper, then it would only be a matter of time before he tracked her to Black Rock. She wanted to be long gone before that happened, giving him no chance to keep her from going.
She rubbed her eyes as she padded barefoot to the white painted dresser. She was staying in Stoney's sister Delia's room. Unlike her bedroom back home, this room didn't have a private bath. She'd have to be careful with her medical supplies, making sure she didn't leave them hanging around for someone to see.
Fortunately, she'd gotten use to the routine of pricking her finger each morning to take a sample of blood and testing it with her blood monitoring machine. They'd come a long way in technology since she first found out she was a diabetic at age seven. Back then, everything seemed so scary. Her parents were always on edge about every little sniffle or sneeze she had and made sure she ate like clockwork. They'd even hired a special chef to prepare her meals and snacks.
When Melanie was younger, a visiting nurse administered her insulin. At age ten, she had finally had enough and informed her parents that it was her body. She was going to take care of herself. Of course, they'd fought her on it, like they did every other decision Melanie made to take control of her life. But one day she'd decided enough was enough. She crawled out of bed before her nurse was scheduled to arrive, and she pulled all the supplies out of the drug closet without anyone noticing. She'd watched the nurse prick her skin, test her blood, and administer the correct dosage hundreds of times, making mental notes on just what to do. When the nurse arrived, she proudly presented her with the empty syringe.
Edmund and Lorna Summers were fit to be tied, but Melanie didn't care. It was then that she decided she needed to take control of her health and had been taking care of it ever since. Diabetes never got in the way of living as far as she was concerned. It was her parents who'd refused to let her believe she was a normal capable person, despite the fact that she had diabetes. It was the main reason her father fought so hard to keep her from going on the Kenya expedition.
She held the blood machine, which was about the size of a calculator, in the palm of her hand and waited until the machine made its reading. When it was through, she filled the hypodermic needle and pinched the skin on her upper thigh and injected herself.
After carefully putting all the used materials into a plastic bag and packing them in her luggage, she padded to the upstairs bathroom to shower. Twenty minutes later, she skipped downstairs to find Adele making breakfast for the troops.
"There's fresh coffee," Adele said as Melanie walked into the kitchen. "Would you like me to get you some?"
"I'd love some. But please don't feel you have to wait on me. I'm an unexpected guest, and I'd like to be more help than hinder. Especially since I'll be taking Stoney away from you for the next four weeks."
Adele smiled warmly. Melanie had the faint feeling there was more behind the smile than mere graciousness. "The cups are in the cabinet over the dishwasher."
Melanie opened the pine cabinet door, grabbed a mug covered with painted daisies, and poured herself a cup of black coffee. Adele was still busy at the kitchen table, measuring out some dried food into tiny zip lock bags.
"Stoney always did like the beef jerky and fruits I dry every year. I used to stuff a pack full for him and Joshua when they used to go out camping. They haven't done that in a while."
"Stoney spends most of his time on the ranch then?"
Adele looked up, a flash of pain crossed her face, but it was gone just as soon as it came. "He's been home this year...since the fire. Up until last year he was spending most weekends at rodeos."
Melanie pulled the ceramic mug from her lips before she could take a sip of the hot liquid. "He's a rodeo cowboy?"
Adele chuckled. "A bull rider. Not that it's hard to tell. Only the stubborn ones are fool enough to ride bulls."
She took a sip of coffee and let the liquid seep down her throat and warm her stomach before commenting. "Seems dangerous."
"That never stopped Stoney." Adele stopped filling a Ziploc bag in mid-motion. "He's been a fearless creature since his little feet started running across this kitchen floor. Been riding since he was a kid. He got hurt pretty bad a few years ago. His hand got hung up in the leather strap they use to stay on the bull. That animal tossed him about just like a rag doll." She shook her head and looked as if she were lost in a memory. She began filling the bag again. "I'm glad I wasn't there to see it. A mother should never watch her son do crazy things like that. He's much safer up in the mountains with you than on the back of some mean old bull, if you ask me."
Melanie got the feeling she'd be safer taking her chances with the bull than the likes of Stoney Buxton. "Speaking of Stoney. Where is he?"
"He and Wally have been up since four o'clock. There's a lot of work around the ranch that needs to be done. Mitch had some last minute obligations he had to take care of before tomorrow, but he'll be ready then."
Melanie helped Adele prepare a cowboy's breakfast of steak, eggs and hash browns. She was surprised to see as much sweat and dirt on Wally as she did on Stoney when they finally made their way to the kitchen table. No doubt they'd already done a day's worth of work.
Later on that day, Melanie ventured out to the make shift stable. It was crude, just a few stalls to house the horses. She found Stoney there, cleaning the stalls. The scent of manure and the fresh hay he was forking filled the air.
"I'd like to help," she said.
Stoney stood up straight and turned to her, perspiration slick over his face. He fixed her with a hard stare for a few minutes. Not of anger or irritation, but of uncertainty. "That's not necessary."
"I know. I want to."
He went back to the task at hand, turning his back to her. "I wouldn't want you to chip a nail or anything. Mess up that nice manicure of yours."
She should have wanted to leave him be, seeing he was obviously letting her know that she was out of place there. But she was getting bored just sitting around the house doing nothing but watching Adele whirl around from one room to the next doing chores. Adele insisted that Melanie was a guest and should just relax. But how could she relax when Stoney and Wally were out in the yard working on Lord knows what, trying to get ahead so Stoney could leave tomorrow? Since she was the reason he'd be off the ranch, the least she could do was pitch in and help out somehow.
Her first perception of Stoney Buxton was one of an arrogant cowboy. Well, the arrogant part was true enough, but there was more to him than she'd originally given him credit for. He was driven. By what, she wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was the survival of the ranch, something ingrained in him that she found intriguing. Maybe it was pure male ego. But she didn't think so.
"My nails will survive," she said.
He gave a deep chuckle that sounded so rough and sexy to her ears. "Not hardly."
She drew in a deep breath and folded her arms across her chest. "Have you worked the horses yet?"
His head shot up, and he stopped poking at the hay pile for a moment. "What do you know about working a horse?"
"More than you'd ever give me credit for. Since one of these horses is going to be my best friend for the next month, I'd say it's about time I got to know him."
The shocked look on his face told her he wasn't quite sure just where she was coming from. Good. In her estimation it was always best to keep a man guessing.
"I can work the horses while you finish cleaning the stables. That will free you up to do whatever else is pressing."
He just stared at her, seemingly searching her face for...something. "I've got to see if I can round up some stray cattle and..." He pulled his hat off his head and rested his arm on the rail behind him. His dark hair was wet with perspiration and the ends curled around his ears, giving an almost boyish look to him. "You know, you don't have to do this."
"I know. I want to do it." She slipped her hands in the pockets of her jeans and lifted her chin. "If only to prove to you I'm no little pampered wuss." She didn't quite know why that was so important to her that Stoney respect her that way. But suddenly, it meant a lot that he see what she was really made of.
He gave her a slow smile that rewarded her with the deep dimples she'd looked for just yesterday. For a minute she thought he'd tease her, but to her surprise, his expression softened. "I never said you were a wuss, Sunshine."
"Good. Because I don't expect to be treated like one."
He drew in a deep breath and looked around, as if trying to assess a long list of what needed to be done. "Have you ever worked horses before?"
She nodded.
"That should keep you busy for a while. If we don't work them, they get lazy."
She swung around, trying to keep the strange stirrings she had whenever she was face to face with Stoney at bay. She was acutely aware of his eyes on her back as she walked away from the stable.
This is ridiculous. Stoney was completely different than the other men she knew. Most of them were beasts in the business world, trying to one up the next guy for a chance at an office with a view on the top floor. Stoney was just trying to make a living on the grounds of Black Rock Ranch. His dedication to this place ran deeper than the desire for money and fame.
He's just a cowboy. Melanie bit her bottom lip, tasting the remnants of her lipstick as she gripped the splintered plank of the corral gate. She yanked it with full force. He's just a damned, sexy cowboy. Lord, was she ever in big trouble.
# # #
Stoney plunged his hand into the old whiskey barrel by the stable and splashed his face with the cold rain water. With the back of his hand, he wiped the dripping water from his forehead. He couldn't help but steal a glance in the direction of the corral where Melanie was working the horses. She'd pulled off the sweatshirt she was wearing earlier and now only wore a white tank top that clung like a second skin to every curve of her body.
She moved with the horses in the corral, and he listened to her soothing voice as she spoke to them, coaxing them, rewarding them with a slice of apple or a nugget of sugar. The beauty becoming friends with the beast.
Yeah, he'd been watching her. What man with hot blood running under his skin wouldn't? She was a dangerous creature to have around if he planned on getting work done. He damn near stabbed his foot with the pitchfork once or twice just thinking about her.
He bent down, dunking his head into the barrel, shocking his hot skin. He'd hoped to ward off some of the urges that kept causing him to glance back over at Melanie. But it was no use. The only way he'd keep his mind on his work was if he were miles away from the woman.
The sun was still high in the sky when he finished filling oats in the feed bin. But it would only be an hour or two before it sunk low in the horizon, painting pictures against the mountain sides in a mesmerizing pallet of color. It was his favorite time of the day, when everything was winding down. After living in Wyoming his whole life, Stoney still didn't tire of seeing the beauty of his land around him.
His land. How much longer would he be able to make that claim? He should be grateful that Melanie was providing him a solution to some of the ranch's financial problems. Instead, she was just a distraction.
He shook the drops of water from his head and rid himself of the thoughts that had plagued him every day. He didn't have time to wallow in what might happen. He needed to get to work. Now was a good time to go out in search of the stray cattle. After a day of sun they'd be moving to one of the water holes no doubt. Maybe he'd get lucky.
The ride out the back trail would give him time to clear his head before coming in and facing Melanie for the evening. She was still riding bareback on one of mares when he pulled Thunder, his favorite horse, from the corral. He was almost done saddling his horse when Melanie came into the stalls.
"I'm done with the horses. If you don't mind, I'd like to ride out with you," she said, reaching up to gracefully stroke Thunder's muzzle with her fingers. It had him thinking of how her hands would feel...
"I don't know how long I'll be gone," he said. "I'm sure Ma could use your help in the house, if you're still looking for something to do."
There was a silence, except for the distant sounds of the horses whinnying and the occasional cow mooing in the distance.
"I was hoping to take that pretty chestnut quarter horse for a ride. You know, the smaller one."
Stoney swung around and looked out at the corral to where Melanie was pointing. "Dolly. She can be skittish."
"Most horses can be skittish at times. She seems gentle with me. I'd like to take her out and get to know her a bit before we leave tomorrow."
He drew out a breath and grunted. This was the last thing he needed. But if she had her heart set on taking Dolly up in the mountains, then it was best they got to know each other ahead of time. At times, Dolly was as unpredictable as the Wyoming weather. "Go ahead. I'll wait while you saddle up."
He darted a glance in her direction, and though she'd turned away quickly toward the back of the stable where the tack was kept, he caught a glimpse of her satisfied smile.
The ride out to the back of the Black Rock was peaceful. The sweet scent of the evening was creeping into the cool air around them. It always eased out the tension in Stoney's bones, and despite how much on edge his present company made him, today was no different. He loved this ranch. The thought that they could lose it all was killing him. That was the only reason he'd agreed to this crazy idea of acting as a guide for Melanie.
Still, curiosity was getting the best of him. The woman riding next to him was a totally different woman than the one who'd landed on his ranch yesterday. To look at Melanie now, she was completely immersed in the sounds of nature and the scenery in the wide open space around her. It's what he'd always loved about living in Wyoming. But it wasn't for everyone. And it definitely wasn't the kind of living he'd expect a woman like Melanie to embrace. Had he really misjudged her so?
"Can I ask you a question?" Melanie asked, breaking into the tranquility of the quiet ride.
"Fire away."
"What's Stoney stand for?"
He looked straight ahead at the trail they were riding on when he answered. "Stonewall."
He heard her quiet laughter. "That's fitting."
He cast her a cold stare. "It's tradition," he said defensively. "My father is Stonewall the second, my granddad was Stonewall the first."
"Oh, I see. Tradition is a big thing in your family?"
He glanced over at her face and couldn't help but notice her laughter had faded and was replaced by a serious expression that caused sadness in her eyes.
He shrugged. "To some folks, tradition is everything."
She rolled her eyes. "Then they can keep it."
"You make it sound like a dirty word when you say it that way."
"To some people, it is."
He couldn't help but laugh. "Tradition's a good thing. Helps you remember where you came from. Gives you roots."
"And it traps you. No thank you, I'd just as soon leave it behind."
"It sounds like you have some pretty heavy baggage to want to yank up your roots and toss them aside that way." He felt a smile tug as his lips. "But I guess I've already had a glimpse of what kind of baggage you carry around."
She laughed cynically. "Very funny. I wasn't raised with the kind of tradition that gives a person roots. It's more like the kind that closes business deals."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Her gaze drifted down, and she shook her head slightly. "You wouldn't understand. My kind of life isn't like anything you've ever seen."
He didn't know why, but her remark hit him hard in the chest. He was sure she hadn't meant it as an insult, but it sure as hell felt that way. "You mean it's not the kind of life us simple folk know."
She snapped her gaze at him and eased up on the reins only to have Dolly start off in her own direction. "I didn't mean it like that. Don't read more into my words than what's there."
When Dolly began veering off the path, Melanie pulled on the reins to keep the horse from wandering over to the grassy area. The mare's head bobbed up in protest.
"She'll keep doing that. She loves to snack. You have to show her you're in charge."
Melanie was quiet for a moment. "I didn't grow up the way you think I did," she finally said.
"It's none of my business."
"You asked. You think you've got me figured out, but you don't. You think I'm just another spoiled rich girl who's trying to get her way. And you may be right, up to a point. But it's not what you think."
He looked at her then, saw the vulnerability that softened her features. She looked fragile, like the petal of a wildflower blowing in the wind. He hated himself for what it made him want to do. If they hadn't been riding, he probably would have lifted her small body into his lap and kissed her until it brought a smile to her face. She had that way about her that made a man want to hold her and protect her. She was pretty when she smiled. Different than the kind of beauty she held out for the world, like the woman she'd been when he first met her yesterday. The woman he saw now was unpretentious and pure. Something he hadn't seen much in the women he'd known.
"Okay, I asked. So tell me."
It took her a while to start, as if she was trying to decide if maybe she didn't want to talk about it at all. Stoney figured that was her choice. Curious or not he wasn't going to push her. Everyone had their own private thoughts and pains to wrestle.
"Most people think all I am is a pretty face." She blushed and dipped her gaze as if she were embarrassed. "You think I'm beautiful, too, don't you?"
He couldn't help but look at Melanie then, as if he were transfixed by some force. It was the last thing he'd expected her to say. For any other woman to say those words, he would have thought it was a loaded question, meant to tease and taunt him. Part of the game of seduction.
But in Melanie's eyes, he didn't see the playful game he'd seen in other women. Although that was exactly what he thought--Melanie was indeed a beautiful woman, from her soft brown eyes right down to her luscious legs--not saying anything at all seemed like a better way to go.
"Some people raise their kids to play piano or do gymnastics or play football." She looked at him, her full lips tilting into a wry smile. "Or ride bulls."
He hadn't realized she knew that he was a bull rider. But then again, she'd spent a lot of time drinking tea and sharing small talk with his mother. She could have had his whole life story spelled out by now from diapers to flunking grades.
"That one was my own doing," he admitted, listening to the clip clop of the horses hooves on the trail.
"I was raised to be the beautiful woman on the arm of a congressman, or businessman, or whoever would elevate the family name in the business community."
"I thought the world had progressed beyond that sort of thing."
She chuckled. "Wyoming might have been the first state to grant women the right to vote, but that doesn't mean everyone came up to speed. From the time I was a little girl, I was entered into one beauty pageant after another, sent to finishing school as if that was the only thing that I was good for. I even had a coming out party when I was eighteen. All the girls from my family's circle of friends did. It always seemed a bit archaic to me." She heaved a soft sigh and added quietly, "Still does."
"So how is it that a debutante, destine to be the wife of a congressman, goes to college to become a Zoologist?"
"I was adamant about going to college for something other than social graces and how to organize a charity benefit."
She giggled finally and he decided he like the sound of her laughter. It made his head feel a little lightheaded, the way the fresh air made him feel after a good hike up the mountains. Only this time, it was the simple musical sound coming from Melanie that made him dizzy.
"Thank God my other girlfriends didn't have to suffer the same way I did where my parents' attitude was concerned. They were actually encouraged to do more with their lives."
"No doubt you kicked up one hell of a hissy fit in protest." He eyed her teasingly. No doubt the rebel in this woman emerged more than not.
"There's more to me than what you see on the outside. I've had to fight tooth and nail to get where I am now," Melanie said, turning her attention away from him to the direction that Dolly seemed to want to go. She made a clucking sound with her tongue and pulled on the reins, but Dolly wouldn't have any part of it. The horse made a beeline to a high grassy spot that had just come into view. "Oh, heck. All she wants to do is eat grass."
"I told you."
"Can we rest a while?"
He nodded. "There's a water hole just a few hundred yards. The horses can get some water and we can rest. Maybe we'll even get lucky and find those strays."
They rode the rest of the way in silence until they reached a small swampy pond located a little ways off the trail they'd been riding. They dismounted and the horses led themselves to the water without any coaxing.
The sun was starting to sink in the sky, painting soft shades of pink and gray and amber over the mountains. Long shadows stretched across the meadow on the far side of the pond where Melanie walked, picking cornflower blue wildflowers.
He watched her, like he had so many times during the day, wondering what she was thinking, and how she'd managed to land herself here on Black Rock. Sure Gerald Hammond had a hand in sending her his way. What most men would consider a blessing--having a woman as pretty as Melanie for a whole month--Stoney considered a curse. How the hell was he going to keep his mind out of the gutter when the woman had legs that went on for miles and sun kissed lips he couldn't help but want to devour?
"We'd better be getting back," he called out to her.
She swung around, and his breath caught in his throat just looking at her softness. He didn't like the way it made his body respond. He had no business having a fling with a high society gal like Melanie. Seeing her like this, all untamed and pretty like she was part of this life and the land itself, as if she'd always been here, made him forget just what kind of expectations a woman like she had. Expectations he could never live up to.
He swallowed hard, trying not to think about how the setting sun made Melanie's hair look like midnight and gave her smooth skin an exotic air.
Wild sex. A fling. Yeah, he could handle that. Right now that was all he had to offer. It was what he was used to on the rodeo circuit. But he could tell that Melanie wasn't the wild fling sort of woman. She was the forever kind, and that meant hands off. He had nothing to give a woman like Melanie Summers. Nothing but trouble and hard living.
\*
Melanie tossed her hair back over her shoulder with one hand, her fingers lightly grasping a bouquet of flowers in the other. "So soon? I thought you wanted to look for stray cattle."
Stoney cleared his throat. "I'd be worried if it was one of the cows were ready to calf. Mitch can take care of it."
"Give me a minute. These daisy and wild irises are just too beautiful to pass by."
Melanie lifted the bouquet to her nose, and closing her eyes, drew in a deep breath of the light sweet fragrance. Bending down, she plucked a few more of the yellow flowers she didn't know the name of and added them to the bunch she had already gathered. She'd have to remember to ask Adele the name when they got back to the house. Then she wrapped the flowers together with a green stem so as not to bruise them on the ride back. "I thought Adele might like some flowers for the dinner table. Does your mother like flowers?"
"What woman doesn't? It's been a long time since she had fresh flowers set on the table. She'll be pleased."
"Pretty aren't they?"
"Yeah," Stoney said.
He cast her a long glance, his eyes dark with heat and then suddenly black with annoyance. Abruptly, he turned away and mounted his horse.
Now what was that all about? Cowboys. Where they all so complicated or was it just Stoney? One minute he seemed like he was actually beginning to enjoy her company, the next he acted like he hardly wanted her around.
It didn't matter if Stoney Buxton enjoyed her company. She needed Stoney to help guide her through the next month. It didn't matter if they were best friends or not. It may make it more pleasant, but they didn't have to like being together.
She pushed aside her hurt feelings and carefully secured her bouquet in the saddlebag before mounting Dolly. Although the air was cooling off with nightfall just around the corner, Melanie felt beads of sweat trickle down her chest and the side of her face. She quickly wiped her forehead with a shaky hand.
Her blood sugar must be low after all the exercise she'd done earlier, she realized. She'd always been so regimented about exercise and eating on schedule to keep her diabetes under control. She'd have to watch it more carefully from now on. That was the whole reason for this trip. To prove she could handle herself despite her medical condition.
She wished she'd remembered to toss a small can of juice in the saddlebag before they left the ranch. She'd need to get back quickly and have something to eat before her sugar got too low.
She needn't have worried. The ride back to the house took half the time it had taken them to get out to the pond.
When they made it to the stables, Melanie quickly dismounted Dolly and put her in the stable, saddle still on her back. "I need to get something to drink. I'll be right back in a few minutes to take care of Dolly."
Stoney's hard gaze sliced through her as she walked away at a quick pace. Her hands were shaking bad, and fatigue was setting in. She didn't have time to test her blood. If she didn't get some sugar into her system, she was going to pass out, and then all hell would break loose. Her expedition into the wilderness would be over before it even began.
Fifteen minutes later, after a glass of orange juice and a few crackers, she was feeling like herself again. She rounded the corner to the stables where she found Stoney. He didn't look at her, just continued to brush down Dolly's coat.
"I told you I didn't want you to pamper me."
His voice was biting. "The horses get taken care of first."
"I told you I'd be right back. I would have done that," she said, reaching for the brush to stop his brisk motion.
The instant their hands touched, she felt a disturbing jolt of electricity. It would have been easier to think that it was her anger waiting to be unleashed at Stoney's inference that she abandoned Dolly's needs. Anger like she always had when her diabetes kept her from doing something that was important to her.
But anger had nothing to do with the surge of sensation racing through her, making her senses come to life. It was the mere presence of Stoney standing close to her, their skin singing with a single touch.
His hands were rough and callused against hers, proof of the hard work that drove him on a daily basis. A shiver of sensation tantalized her when she thought of what his hand would feel like on her neck, against her breast. He didn't move his hand, and she wondered if he felt the same surge of desire that had taken hold of her. She lifted her gaze to his face. The answer was clear.
Stoney's eyes were dark and full of thunderous excitement. He just stared into her eyes as if he could read her thoughts. Only she didn't want him to know her thoughts. Thoughts of wild abandon and lust. Yes, lust, she realized. That's all this is. Pure physical attraction.
It was bound to happen with a man like Stoney. His rough edged exterior lent itself to the kind of danger and excitement she'd been shielded from her whole life. He was everything she was raised not to want. The exact opposite of what her father would approve of and suddenly, everything she wanted.
Stoney's gaze dropped to her lips. Melanie wet them involuntarily, knowing she'd chewed her lipstick off after a day of working the horses. For a fleeting moment, she thought he would kiss her. Her pulse pounded and to her utter amazement, that was exactly what she wanted. She wanted his mouth to devour hers until her knees fell weak, until she couldn't remember her own name. She had the feeling that dangerous wild abandon lurked just beneath the rough exterior of this cowboy. And she wanted to know that danger, feel that excitement full force.
But that was the last thing she needed. She had to stay focused on the reason she'd come to Wyoming in the first place. She needed Stoney's help, not a quick tryst in the stables with a cowboy to mess up her plans.
As quick as Melanie had seen the undeniable desire in Stoney's eyes, a cold cloud covered his features. His expression tightened until his expression was closed off completely. "I kept the flowers you picked in the saddlebag. You better get them in water before they die. I'll take care of the horses tonight."
He didn't want her there, she realized. Not because he was angry with her for leaving Dolly behind to get a drink. He was angry for feeling the same raw desire that flooded her. And for some reason, that made it all worse.
"Thank you," she said softly, not able to take her eyes from his. She finally turned and walked away, feeling as shaky as she had before she rushed into the house earlier. Only this time, it had nothing to do with her blood sugar. Her blood was racing with a raw sense of desire for a dangerous man she'd just hired to be her companion for a whole month.
She reached for the screen door and withdrew her hand, placing it over her beating heart. A whole month alone with nothing but a drop dead, sexy cowboy and the Wyoming wilderness. Lord help her.
# # #
Six a.m. came earlier than Melanie would have liked. Sleep had eluded her with stirring thoughts of Stoney sleeping in the room just next to hers. She listened to the quiet, wondering if he was sleeping soundly, wondering if he was the kind of man who slept in pajamas or stripped down to nothing. She tortured herself thinking about him, if he still felt the same heat she'd seen in his eyes when they were together in the stable. The same heat she still felt.
Memories of Stoney's hand burning hers merged with dreams of him running his callused fingers through her hair, kissing her until her body responded in her sleep. She woke several times during the night in a hot sweat with the white percale sheets wrapped around her body and the cotton blanket thrown to the floor.
She usually slept so sound, her bed virtually tidy in the morning. But if this kept up, if she couldn't rid herself of these strange feelings of longing she had whenever she thought of Stoney, she'd be too sleep deprived by the end of the week, she'd never make it a month.
The sound of male voices talking and laughing just beneath her open window caused her to finally pull herself out of bed. She recognized the deep timbre of Stoney's voice talking to Wally and someone else. Another man. She guessed the third man must be Mitchell Broader, as he was due at Black Rock sometime this morning. Good. The sooner they left for the hills, the sooner she could go back to Long Island and tell her father she'd fulfilled her end of the bargain. He'd have no other choice than to let her go with the rest of the team to Kenya.
Wasting no time and knowing they had a long day ahead of them, Melanie quickly showered and dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a cotton shirt. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she followed the sound of laughter until she found the three men sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee.
She was immediately struck by the easiness between the men they talked and joked. It almost made Melanie feel envious. When she and Stoney were together, he was always on edge, as if he were angry. Maybe it was his reaction to her for taking him away from Black Rock. Then there were those times when his eyes met hers and his gaze was so powerful, she swore he would eat her alive.
Wally lifted his eyes to her and cleared his throat as Melanie entered the room. The laughter silenced.
"You must be Mitchell," Melanie said, extending her hand as the only man who was a stranger rose to his feet.
Mitch tipped his hat and smiled. She guessed he was the same age as Stoney, fair-haired and fair-skinned as if he burned in the heat of the sun instead of getting a bronze tan like she suspected Stoney would. His features were almost boyish, even as a man. But he had a kind face. His appraisal of her, however, was typically male.
"Yes, ma'am. You must be the Ms. Summers I've been hearing about."
She nodded her head graciously. "Please call me Melanie."
"Stoney's been filling me in on all your plans."
"I'll just bet he has."
He thumbed toward Stoney, who was now hoisting a duffel bag to his shoulder. "You're sure you want to spend a whole month with the likes of him? I'd be mighty happy to take his place if you're willing." His eyes twinkled and his smile was flirtatious.
A hard look passed between Stoney and Mitch, as if Stoney were staking claim on her and giving Mitch a hands off warning. The air in the room suddenly turned frosty.
Mitch apparently got the message that it was time for him to leave.
"I guess I'll make myself useful and load the horses into the trailer."
Turning to Melanie, he tipped his hat in a cordial cowboy gesture before heading out the kitchen door.
"If you're still planning on getting up in the mountains any time today, it's time we got a move on." Stoney's stare was almost accusing.
Melanie clenched her fist, feeling her long fingernails dig into the soft flesh of her palm. What right did Stoney have to be irritated about her talking to Mitch? She was simply being nice, meeting the man for the first time.
Avoiding his unmerciful gaze, Melanie turned her attention to the duffels and saddlebags on the porch and realized Stoney had been busy packing all their gear. Without her. He'd gotten started without her! She didn't bother to keep her irritation in check any longer.
"I told you that I would do my share of the work. I didn't hire you to carry me the whole way."
Stoney kept on packing the canned goods that were spread out on the counter into a bag without giving her a response.
"You didn't have to treat him that way, you know," she huffed.
"I'll treat him any damn way I please." That got his attention, but he still didn't stop his quick and continued to pack the duffel. "I hired him to work at Black Rock, not cast a roving eye all over you."
Melanie had to laugh at that. "I didn't hire you to fend off men, thank you very much. I can handle myself just fine."
He shot her a sardonic look. "So you keep telling me. We'll take a third horse for our gear," he said, changing the subject.
She folded her arms across her chest. "You know, just because I'm paying you to be my trail guide, doesn't mean you have to order me around."
He swung around to meet her head on, seemingly trying to intimidate her with his size. But she held firm in her place.
"What you're paying me for is to keep your little hide safe while you get your fill of whatever pipe dream you have. Let's just get this straight so we know where we stand. You listen to what I say, do what I tell you to do, and we make it the whole month. You go against my word just once, and we turn around and head out of those mountains so fast you won't even know you were there at all."
"Are you always so...intense?"
He threw her a wry grin, but his features were still tight. "You just bring out the best in me."
He tossed her two empty canvas bags.
"Anything you've decided is an absolute must for this trip you can pack in here. We'll be on the road in half an hour."
Adele appeared at the doorway, carrying a duffel bag that appeared to overpower her small form. Stoney immediately gripped the handle and hoisted it over his shoulder.
"That's filled with as much of the dried goods I could fit in it. I'm not sure if it'll last you a month, but it will hold you for a while. I added some of those peach chips you and Joshua love so much."
Stoney smiled warmly, his anger gone as quickly as it came. Then he grabbed one of his bags and headed out the kitchen door, nodding a thanks to his mother, but virtually ignoring Melanie.
Melanie let out a sigh of defeat when the screen door slammed in his wake. "Is he always this delightful?"
Adele took Melanie by the hand and held her back from walking out after Stoney. "Only when he doesn't have the upper hand."
"Is that how he sees this?"
Adele shrugged slightly. "Don't let him get to you. He gets grumpy and he growls a lot, especially when he doesn't get his own way. I suspect you'll see a lot of his charming ways over the next month."
"Lord help me," Melanie said under her breath. Heat flamed her cheeks when she remembered she was talking to his mother.
Adele gave a hardy laugh. "You've got to cowboy up, girl. When he starts growling, growl back. Show him you have your own two feet to stand on. He can be hard, but he's fair. He'll ease up on you. You'll see. Some men aren't happy unless they're met head on with a good challenge."
"And I'm his challenge?"
Adele nodded, amusement filling her face.
Melanie drew in a deep breath and let it out slow. How in the heck did Adele survive all alone on this ranch with the likes of grumpy old Stoney Buxton? "He really doesn't want to do this, does he?"
Adele eased out a sigh, the lines around her mouth seemed to deepen, making her look older than what she probably was. "It's been a rough year for him. He wasn't here last year when the fire broke out and he's worried about leaving us this way. This ranch means a lot to him." She plucked the coffee cups from the table and dropped them in a tub of suds in the sink. "But don't you worry. Once he gets a whiff of that clear mountain air, he'll be just fine. I suspect he needs this trip as much as you do."
Melanie hadn't told anyone the real reason for hiring Stoney. Truth was, no one had asked. Although Adele had divulged some information about the fire, she suspected there was a lot she didn't know about Stoney's reasons for agreeing to be her guide. Especially since his actions made it clear that it was the very last thing he wanted to do.
The bottom line was they needed each other. They may not like it, but they'd get through it.
Even if it killed her.
\*
Once the horses had been unloaded from the trailer, Melanie and Stoney quickly worked to saddle Thunder and Dolly, and then packed Chester, the gray and white quarter horse they'd use to hold their provisions. Melanie was determined to keep up with Stoney at all cost, although she kept trying to tell herself she shouldn't care what Stoney thought one way or the other.
She'd been the one to hire him. She was the one in control. But only to a certain degree. Text book theory wasn't going to match what she'd learn once she was actually up in the mountains.
She carefully packed her saddlebag with juice, hard candy and dried fruit. To keep her diabetes under control, she always tried to keep a strict eating schedule, paying attention to what and how much she ate. Since she didn't know when they'd be stopping, it was a safe bet to keep something close by to grab while they were riding.
By mid-day they were heading across an open pasture filled with the fragrance of wild blue lupine and red Indian paintbrush. Above them was the crystal blue Wyoming sky that seemed to go on forever. Beyond the pasture lay the wondrous Wind River Mountain Range, all its peaks and valleys just waiting for them. The sounds of the horses hooves clopping on the soft earth and the buzz of nature all around them was like music as they rode.
A sense of calming seeped into Melanie's bones. She was on her way to spend a full month without any interference from her father. When had she ever had that? Never, she thought. Her parents had always been one step ahead, calling the shots for her.
You can do this, she told herself. You're in control.
Now if she could only manage to have a good time despite her moody guide.
Stoney took the lead on Thunder, with Chester trailing alongside of him.
"Where are we headed, anyway?" she asked, pulling up until she and Dolly were trailing beside Chester.
"That's up to you and how deep in the mountains you want to go," Stoney replied, giving her a quick glance. "We could head up high into the mountains or camp in the lower plains."
He kept riding, his cowboy hat dipped low to shield the sun as his eyes grazed the scenery. It may have been her imagination, but his voice seemed to have lost its rough edge. He had the same easy expression he'd had earlier when he was joking with Mitch and Wally. It was as if he'd come home and left a hard day's work behind him.
"You know the mountains. I'll follow your lead."
He twisted in his saddle and threw her a crooked grin that made her mouth go dry. "For a change?"
She dipped her head and tried not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her blush. "I'm not always difficult," she said.
He laughed hard. "Somehow I doubt that, Sunshine."
"I promise to be on my best behavior."
"Good. We might actually manage to have a good time while we're at it then."
"Well there is that matter of the hot springs map Gerald Hammond gave me," she called out to him, laughing.
He glanced back, throwing her one of the most sexy grins she'd ever seen on a man. It was a good thing she was sitting in a saddle and not walking the trail because her knees suddenly felt like mush and she'd most surely would have fallen. Everything about Stoney was strong and male and incredibly sexy. She stirred in her saddle, trying her best to force the unbidden images of Stoney out her mind.
"Put that thing away. I don't need a map," he said.
She glanced out at the mountains ahead of them and realized her dreams lay just beyond.
Despite the way they'd fought over her independence over the years, Edmund T. Summers III was a man of his word. He'd agreed to Melanie's wager simply because he was sure she'd fail or because he thought he could buy off anyone who tried to help her. But she'd prove herself and he'd have no choice but to keep the funding for the Kenya project in place and allow her to go as well.
Most of the next four hours were spent in virtual silence. It wasn't hard to lose themselves in the scent and the sights of the mountain's majestic panorama. Melanie felt giddy, as if she'd just been freed from the cage she'd spent her whole life. She wondered how the world she'd always known could exist while this beautiful land around her had been here and she didn't know it.
They rode through a lowland pasture and Melanie was mesmerized by the colors of the wildflowers. Clusters of wild irises were scattered among the dandelion cotton. With each gust of breeze, the wind lifted more of the cottony seeds in the air and blew them like a carpet of white.
It may have been her imagination, but Stoney didn't seem as intense as he had earlier in the day. More than a few times she'd found herself just staring ahead at the way his body sat tall in the saddle, looking at his profile as he lost himself in the world around them.
Dolly veered off toward a patch of high grass for the umpteenth time and she realized she'd been daydreaming about Stoney. Dolly nickered and her ears flashed back.
"Whoa, Doll. What do you hear?" Melanie said, easing back on the reins.
By now Stoney had stopped and was looking at the area immediately surrounding them. "I don't hear anything, but maybe something got her spooked."
Melanie threw her head back, lifting her face to the big sky and drew in a deep breath. The smell of aspen pine and sagebrush filled her nostrils along with the smell of the horses and warm leather. She listened to the sound of the forest and let herself become immersed.
\*
Stoney watched Melanie like she was a goddess. With her head raised to the sky, her full lips pursed like a woman waiting for a lover's kiss, she was irresistible. Dammit, she was incredibly fascinating, tempting every bit of his manhood just watching her. This would be so easy if every time he glanced her way he didn't have the longing to reach out and pull her close to him. Even with her lipstick half chewed off after a day of riding, even with the sweat clinging to her face and neck, and making her blue cotton shirt cling to her body, she was beautiful. And he couldn't keep his body from responding no matter how much he tried to tell himself this woman was off limits.
Melanie Summers was not just another rodeo girl looking for a quick roll with a cowboy. She had a softness as well as a polish that was foreign to him. He guessed she wasn't the type of woman to lend herself out for a night with no promise of something more the next morning.
He'd been so angry watching Mitch with Melanie that morning. He hadn't been fair in his treatment of either of them. Yeah, he could admit that now. It would hardly be right if Mitch hadn't noticed a woman as beautiful as Melanie. But watching his slow, easy appraisal of her assets caused jealousy to kick him straight in the gut. He'd never wanted to slug Mitch, but at that moment, he'd actually considered it, as if Melanie was something he'd branded as his own.
He held on to the anger, finding it was easier to keep the boundaries between them in sight if his body was tight with fury. It was better than the fire he was caught in every time her full lips stretched to smile. That damn near did him in. The simple act of her flipping a stray lock of hair behind her ear, brushing her delicate fingers against her cheek to wipe off some drops of sweat made him long to be the one doing it.
And now, looking at her all lost in the sounds of the mountains, he had the unbidden image of her wrapped in his arms, making love in a mountain meadow blanketed only by the heat of the blazing sun.
Abruptly, Melanie's eyes flew open and she suddenly looked at him with the wonder of a child. "Do you hear it?"
He took his attention away from his nagging body, caused by the lingering thoughts of Melanie in his arms, and he listened. He heard the call of a Western Meadowlark in a nearby tree, no doubt perturbed that they'd chosen a spot close to its nest to stop for a rest. Through the buzz of insects and the breeze, he finally heard the rustle of trees and something trampling on the dry ground that had caught Melanie's attention.
"Hooves."
She nodded and whispered, "Do you think it could be some other people trailing?"
Stoney thought about it a moment. "Possibly, these trails are used by a lot of outfitters in the area. If we stay on this trail we may meet up with some of them at one of the camps."
She frowned. "Oh, with all this space, I just assumed we'd be alone out here."
"Is that a problem? Because if it is, we don't have to stay at a formal camp. We can just find our own way."
"How well do you know the mountains outside the trails well-traveled?"
"Josh and I practically lived in these mountains when we were younger. I suspect that is why Hammond sent you to me."
Her face took on a dreamy quality, her eyes dark like the depth of a mountain pool.
"Where's the prettiest place you've ever seen?"
He didn't have to think about it. He and Joshua had been there enough to know that once you'd been to the high plateau's and caught a glimpse of the view, it ruined you for any other place in the world.
"That would be the high country. The Wind River trails that lead up to the plateau."
She seemed almost giddy with excitement as she spoke. "What's it like up there?"
"It's rough trailing. Like nothing you've ever known. But when you get there...Lord, that view is like nowhere else in this world." He felt a smile tug at his lips just thinking about it. "I swear it feels like you can reach your hand right up and touch heaven."
"Then that's where we'll go."
He laughed wryly. "No way."
"You said it was up to me," she shot back.
"To a point."
"Oh, come on. You can't tell me about the most wonderful place on earth, then not take me there."
"We can head out into the mountains, but not there. The weather can be brutal in the high elevations, freezing temperatures, whitewater streams to cross, thunder and lightning that'll zip so close your hair will stand on ends."
"Are you telling me we're not prepared for to go there? Even with all this gear?"
"I'm not going to let you get yourself killed. That's tough trailing even for someone who's experienced."
She nodded her head, clearly annoyed as she straightened her spine. She gave a gentle kick to Dolly's side and pulled up alongside him.
"Are you saying you don't think I can do it?"
"The thing is I don't know what you're capable of handling. Josh and I used to trail there, but-"
"You had to do it for the first time once." She lifted her chin and pursed her lips. He hated that he suddenly was focusing on how much he wanted to taste them instead of what she was fitting about. "I want to head to the plateau tomorrow."
He stared at the determined fire in her cinnamon eyes and knew she wasn't going to back down. How could he know what she could actually handle unless he let her have a go at it?
"Okay," he said. "But if it gets too rough, if I think you're in trouble, we're heading back. You hear? No arguments."
She smiled, seemingly satisfied with the arrangement. "Lead on. But do you think we can try to find whatever is out there? I'm dying to see some of the animals in their natural habitat."
He drew in a deep breath and tried his best to squash his feelings of longing, but they just kept washing over him until he felt himself grow hard. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have Melanie's luscious legs wrapped tight around his waist as he kissed her...everywhere. He wasn't on firm ground with this woman. Quicksand was more of what he was sinking deep into.
She may be dying for adventure.
He was just dying.
He cleared his throat. "If we're going to head up into the high country, we can't go after every little rabbit sound in the forest. I want to set up camp before sundown, so we'd better get moving." He heard the harshness in his voice and silently chided himself for it. It wasn't Melanie's fault he was in over his head with lust for the woman.
He caught her soft smile fade to bewilderment before he twisted back around in his saddle and dug his heels into Thunder's side. The horse kicked into motion, with Chester following. He could only imagine the daggers Melanie was throwing at his back with her eyes as they rode. And he knew every one of them was deserved.
It was a lot easier in the saddle, riding ahead of her through the mountains. Just the thought of her perched in her saddle, hips rocking back and forth with the sway of the mare carrying her, was enough to give him a heart attack. If he'd been with Joshua or even alone, he would be able to relax a little more.
Stoney would have liked to push on for another hour or so before setting up camp. But he knew that setting up camp would be tiring. As the sun cast a golden gleam over the mountain tops, painting colors of copper and amber against the wide Wyoming sky, he braved a look back at Melanie. One look and he saw how her first day was beginning to take toll.
She hadn't complained. He knew she wouldn't. He'd already figured she was much too stubborn for something like that. She'd push on if it killed her just to prove to him wrong.
He pulled hard on the Thunder's reins until both horses came to a halt. "This is a good spot to camp for the night." It was a nice flat spot by the river with plenty of grassy area to picket the horses and let them graze.
Melanie dismounted and stretched her legs, walking funny for the first few minutes.
"I don't know if I'm ever going to walk straight again," she said, holding on to Dolly's reins as she led her to the water's edge.
Stoney kept his back turned to her and proceeded to untie the packs that were loaded on Chester.
"I guess I should get use to this, huh? We'll be doing a lot of riding."
He didn't say anything, despite her attempt to converse with him for the first time in the last few hours. They'd been silent for most of the ride and he found it was easier to concentrate on the clopping of horse hooves than the beating of his own heart. He quickly set up the picket while the horses got their fill of water, and then secured them inside.
He grabbed the hatchet. "You might as well set up your tent and lay out your bedroll while you're waiting. It's going to be a while until supper is ready. Can you cook on a camp stove?"
She dipped her head and blushed. "If you give me instructions I can probably make just about anything."
Wonderful. He picked up the side of one of the duffels and tossed it a few feet in her direction. "That's okay. Just sift through this pack until you find something that sounds appetizing. Those dry food rations are pretty easy to prepare. You just added boiling water. You know how to do that, right?"
She glared at him, jamming one fist on her hip.
He ignored her frown. "Dinner will be sooner if you can find enough dry wood scattered on the ground to get the camp stove going before I get back. It won't need much wood to cook. You'll find a sturdy pot in one of the packs, too."
She'd straightened herself, a questioning look filling her tired features. She looked vulnerable, afraid as he turned to walk toward the tree line. "Where are you going?"
"Just to gather some wood for a campfire. Despite the time of year, it gets pretty cold up in the mountains at night."
He stalked off, not sure why his gut felt as tight as it did. All he knew was that he needed to get away from Melanie, if only to have a moment or two alone to collect himself.
He was acting like the backside of his horse, but he couldn't help it. Why, oh why did he agree to spend the month alone with this woman? Every time her soft brown eyes flashed bright with excitement, his breath caught in his throat. She had a fire that flared with the slightest push, but beneath that, there was a vulnerability he found endearing.
He walked a few yards beyond the tree line and found some old dry branches. Pulling out his hatchet, he positioned the branch over a low rotted stump and took out his frustration on the wood. With every thrust of the ax against the wood he'd hoped his tension would ease. But to his dismay it remained.
When they'd first set out this afternoon, he'd actually been excited about going. As they trailed deeper and deeper into the mountains, the old familiar feeling of tranquility washed over him. Then Melanie would say something and he'd remember that he wasn't with Joshua this time. He was with a woman who was stubborn minded and clearly out of place in a world where she had no business being. He should have felt guilty about ignoring her, but he couldn't. It was the only way he could forget how much he wanted to kiss her every time she smiled.
# # #
Melanie brushed her hand up and down her arm in an effort to warm herself. The increased chill in the air and the darkening indigo sky was a clear sign that night was quickly on its way. Night predators would be out hunting their game and the meadowlarks that sang so sweetly during today's ride would turn in for the evening. Long Island seemed as far away as the moon, and that thought gave Melanie a subtle peace.
Stoney, however, was just around the corner, splitting wood for the fire they'd use to prepare dinner. Melanie was like a whirlwind, pulling gear from each pack and quickly deciding where it should go. Her muscles screamed at her, compliments of the long, bumpy ride in the hard saddle, but she knew there would be no dinner if she didn't try to set up the camp stove and get the gear unpacked. Dinner was already going to be later than usual and she needed to at least try to keep on her eating schedule.
She pulled a wool cardigan sweater from her knapsack and put it on before digging into her saddlebag for some dried banana chips. After popping a few of them into her mouth, she found where the tents were packed easy enough. Setting them up was another story. But despite her lack of camping skills, Melanie was determined to get the tents erected and the bedrolls laid by the time Stoney came back with the firewood. She looked at the stakes and bounced the empty bag up and down, hoping some instructions would fall out. Nothing.
She groaned, tossing the stakes to the ground and propping her hands on her hips. "This ought to be good," she said, staring at the horses now grazing inside the picket Stoney had set up before he left for the firewood. "I've never set up a tent in my life but it can't be too hard, huh guys?" And she'd rather choke on her dinner than ask Stoney to help her do it.
The horses continued munching, seemingly unaware of her presence, and the fact that she was talking to them. She heard the sound of a thwack against wood in the distance and guessed that must be Stoney chopping wood.
"Small talk is overrated, anyway." She puffed her cheeks and got back to work. To her surprise, once she'd figure out the first tent, the second one went up in half the time. She'd broken her second fingernail in the process and decided it was time to pull out a nail file and sand them all down. Normal primping would have to take a back seat starting today. She was just setting up the camp stove when Stoney appeared with an armload of wood.
"You shouldn't have done that," he said when he caught sight of the tents standing side by side.
Melanie smiled brightly. "I wanted to."
"Thank you for the effort but it was a waste of your time. It's just going to be taken down again."
She glared at him, trying to suppress her shock. Still, indignation spilled to the forefront. "I don't know what you expected out of me this trip, but your fee as a guide doesn't include any sexual-"
He rolled his eyes and grinned. "Keep your pants on, Sunshine. I have no intentions of crawling into your tent to take advantage of you. Despite what you may think, I'm not a man who takes what isn't offered. As long as you zip that tent tight, you'll be safe."
Slightly embarrassed by her jump to the conclusion that he was trying to seduce her, she asked, "Where will you sleep?"
He looked up at the sky. Dark shadows cast colorful fingers across the land, but the sky was already a dark smoky blue. "It's going to be a clear night. I can't see wasting it by sleeping in a tent. I'll sleep under the stars by the campfire."
She hesitated. "Aren't you afraid?"
"Of what?"
"You know, of...snakes?" She made a face, the unbidden feeling of her skin crawling making her shudder. "And things slithering into your sleeping bag?"
His lips tilted ever so slightly to show her he did something more than just scowl. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and she thought it would tumble out of her chest. When he wasn't angry or distant with her, she actually had a hard time thinking of Stoney as the man she hired for a purpose. He was a man, pure and simple. She just wished every time he shined his cowboy, happy go lucky smile, she didn't have the urge to fall right into his strong arms.
She'd never thought of herself as the kind of woman who'd be attracted to a cowboy. She liked her men clean, for one thing. And though today was much an improvement over the last few days, she'd seen firsthand that nothing about a cowboy was clean for very long. They worked hard, and she suspected they played hard. Maybe that's why so many of them up and joined the rodeo like it was a circus.
His dark eyes suddenly changed. They were dark, primitive, telling her more than she suspected he'd like her to know. She'd seen this expression in him before. First on the day she'd arrived at the ranch and then again at the stable after the first time they'd taken the horses out for a ride. She'd thought he was about to kiss her then. And she was surprised at her own reaction now. The thought of Stoney kissing her sent a blaze of fire spitting through her. If he touched her, she didn't know what she'd do.
His breathing was shallow. They weren't close enough to touch, but the hot current that flowed between them was incredible. And then it change abruptly, and the lines on his face deepened. His expression changed as if he'd lifted a mask.
"We'd better get supper ready. We'll start out early in the morning."
It didn't take long to prepare supper. Except for the occasional instructions Stoney gave her, they talked little. They talked even less when dinner was complete.
"Since you did most of the cooking, I'll do the dishes," she said, lifting herself from ground. She bent over to retrieve his empty plate and their eyes met. She felt as if she were a yo-yo. One minute, he was talking to her as pleasant as can be, the next he was barking out simple orders as if he were angry. And then he would look at her this way, like she was the earth and the sky and everything in between. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment before she managed to compose herself.
He cleared his throat. "It's getting cold. I'll get the fire good and hot."
Stoney had the small fire burning bright when she got back from the river. She packed away the last of the dishes and utensils, and hesitated. Her whole body ached from their long day, and good sense should have told her to just say goodnight and turn in. But she joined him by the fire instead.
"Do you mind?" she said, waiting for a reply before lowering herself to the ground.
He silently extended his hand toward a spot next to the flames. But there was something in his expression that told her he'd prefer to be alone.
Deciding the warmth of the fire won out over Stoney's mood swing, she plopped herself on the ground opposite him. It didn't take long for her to feel the fire's heat against her cold cheeks.
"Feels good," she said in an effort to make small talk.
He pitched a broken twig to the burning embers. He seemed mesmerized by the crackle and the colorful blaze. The sound of wolves calling to each other in the distance startled her. They both looked out into the black night in the same direction.
Stoney turned back to her. "Don't worry. With the fire going, they shouldn't come close to camp. The horses will let us know before anything else if an animal is lurking about."
She drew in a pensive breath, still looking into ominous shadows the fire made past the rocks. She was going to have to get used to this. Out here there were grizzly bear and cougar. In Africa, there'd be lions and tigers. This is what she'd come here for.
She closed her eyes, hugging her knees to her chest and listened. "Sounds almost musical, doesn't it?"
"Yeah."
Moments passed by as they listened to the night sounds with silence between them. Melanie was relieved that the tension seemed to have faded. Stoney was the one to break the silence.
"What you said about your family wanting you to marry for a business deal. It being tradition and all. Was that true or were you joking?"
Melanie felt a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. "I wish I were. They've always wanted me to have what they have."
He shook his head. "Don't your parents love each other?"
How could he understand? Melanie thought. There was so much love that flowed in the Buxton house. She'd felt it as soon as she arrived. "I guess they have a kind of love for each other now. They're sort of comfortable with who they are. Mom has her friends and the country club and her charities. Dad has his associates and...I don't know. I guess they're happy enough with what they have. It was a given they'd get married. Everyone thought they would. I doubt they'd ever considered anything else."
"I don't get it."
Sadly, neither did Melanie. She always wanted to believe her parents had the kind of love that passed the test of time. But the only thing that ever shook their marriage was Melanie and her diabetes. That was the only time she heard them fight and even then, it was in the wee hours of the morning when they thought she was asleep.
She'd hear her father saying that Melanie wasn't normal, that she was special. They'd used her beauty as a way to offset her medical imperfection, calling her special. It wasn't the kind of special she wanted to be. It was the kind that made her feel she was defective.
Instead, they called her beautiful and paraded her around like she was a trophy, like her mother was to her father. Except Melanie didn't want that kind of life. She didn't want to be loved because she was beautiful. She wanted to feel beautiful because she was loved.
Melanie understood early on the seriousness of her illness. She knew what she had to do to stay healthy and was religious with her treatment. But unlike her mother and father, Melanie didn't believe that it was all she was. She wasn't just a diabetic. She wasn't just beautiful. She had a lot more to offer and life had a lot more to offer her than they were willing to acknowledge.
"How come you didn't saddle down some rich guy to take you on this little excursion?" he asked, tossing a piece of kindling into the fire. It took a second, then the dry wood burst into flame with the embers.
He gave her a lingering sidelong glance that made her suck in a small breath. With the flickers of light painting shadows on his chiseled features, Stoney was incredibly sexy. He looked just like one of those cowboys in an old western movie. The one who always rides in his black stallion in the heat of battle to rescue the damsel in distress. Melanie was far from a damsel in distress and she let him know it.
"I don't have a rich guy," she said, emphasizing the word rich just enough to let him know how irritated it made her that he kept bringing up the difference in their social status.
She didn't know why, but she thought she'd seen a flicker of something cross his features. As if the thought that there wasn't a man in her life was somehow a relief to him. Lord knows there had been ample opportunity for her to meet eligible wealthy men. Her mother had done a pretty good job picking and choosing the right men to introduce her to at each and every social function she was forced to attend.
But none of them held any interest for Melanie. The kind of life that the men she'd known were after, the kind of life her parents hoped and prayed she'd eventually embrace, was too superficial. Her mother said she was cursed to be born a Gemini. Too much adventure would get her into trouble, she'd always warned. But it was better than being locked in a world with fake smiles and no love. No real love.
"And I don't need a man to take care of me," she insisted.
He grinned wryly. She immediately knew what he was thinking. And he wasted no time bringing that fact to light.
"Then I guess I can head home tomorrow because you won't need me."
"Not so fast, cowboy. I've got too much riding on this."
"Care to tell me about it?"
"All I need from you is a notarized letter stating I've spent the last thirty days in your company in the Wyoming wilderness. The rest really is of no importance."
"Except to you."
"Exactly."
Stoney reclined back in his bedroll and clasped his hands behind his head as he looked up at the billions of stars dotting the black sky.
"Fine," he said tersely. She noted the slightly biting tone to his voice.
"Good, because I really feel-"
He lifted his head off the ground an inch and turned to her. "Morning will be here before you know it. It's time we turned in."
Melanie felt a hot flow of emotion wash over her. He was blowing her off! "Fine," she parroted.
She was about to stalk off toward her tent when her eyes captured the glow of a shiny metal barrel sticking out from underneath Stoney's sleeping bag.
"You have a gun," she said harshly.
His hand moved to the gun, unearthing it from its hiding place beneath the bedroll. "It's just a precaution."
"For what?"
"As long as we're careful, we won't have any problems. We're trespassing in the backyard of many animals who may not like our being here. You of all people should understand that. I don't plan on firing the gun unless we're in danger."
She sucked in a deep breath. The mountains seemed so peaceful, so serene. For a brief moment, she'd forgotten that they weren't alone. After all, this was the reason why she'd come to Wyoming. Although the desire to work in the field had always been there, Melanie realized there was quite a lot she didn't know.
His mouth twisted into a sarcastic smirk. "What did you expect?"
"I just didn't realize you'd brought a shotgun. That's all."
"You have a problem with guns?"
"No." She started to turn, but angled back. "When they're used for the right purpose, that is."
He scowled, his features growing hard and his mouth tightening. "I assure you. I don't abuse my privilege to use this gun on anything other than what is absolutely necessary."
She nodded, still feeling a little shaky with the concept of a gun being in tow on this journey. But she let it go. She loved animals. The thought of hunting for game for sport had never sat well with her. She felt only a twinge of guilt in thinking that was the reason Stoney had brought the gun. But Stoney was right. It was necessary in the wilderness as a precaution. She only prayed there'd be no cause for Stoney to ever use that gun in her presence.
She crawled into her tent and zipped the hatch closed behind her, remembering at once that she hadn't checked her sugar level for the evening. In the quiet of the night, Stoney was sure to hear the beeping of her blood monitor calculating her blood sugar, but she'd have to make some excuse for the noise.
She reached into her duffel and pulled out the small flashlight, hanging it on the strap above her so that it would shine a constant beam on her duffel bag. She pulled out her equipment, blood machine, test strips, an insulin vial and syringe, and proceeded with the twice daily ritual that had become second nature to her.
It didn't take much for sleep to claim her once she finally climbed into her sleeping bag. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest as her limbs tightened. Though the sleeping bag was warm, with a thick fleece lining, it took a while for the warmth to seep into her bones.
She chose to sleep in her clothes, something she'd never done before. As a result, she awoke sometime during the night with her wool sweater twisted around her chest and the waistband of her jeans digging into her side. As she stripped off her bra, the jeans, and her socks while still zipped in an awkward position in the sleeping bag, she heard the sound of the horses nickering and grunting, and immediately recalled what Stoney had said about the horse sounding a call when animals drew closer to camp.
She welcomed the morning, although it didn't come as quickly as Melanie would have hoped. With the promise of the sunrise just peaking over the east of the mountain range, she knew she wouldn't last another minute held up in her tent.
She quickly grabbed a pair of clean underwear, a new pair of jeans and a white long sleeve cotton jersey, wishing they'd had the opportunity to find one of those hot springs Gerald Hammond had boasted about the day she'd been in his shop. She let the longing for a hot bath slide in return for a dip in the pond. Melanie vaguely recalled seeing a small cove tucked in the seclusion of a stand of pine trees. Since she had every intention of keeping herself as clean as she could despite her lack of pamperings, she decided that was as good a place as any to take her first cold bath.
As she climbed out of the tent, donning nothing but the nightshirt she'd finally pulled on in the middle of the night, she saw the coals from the campfire were still smoking. Beside the campfire, Stoney was asleep in his sleeping bag, his cowboy boots propped at the foot of his bedroll. On top of them was the red chamois shirt Stoney had worn the previous day.
Her stomach tightened, and she felt the familiar stir of desire coil inside her as she thought of Stoney's bare chest. His face was tossed to one side and held the peacefulness of a child. She fought the incredible urge to reach out and stroke her fingers along the side of his cheek. He'd shaven yesterday, but now his face was shadowed with his day old beard and had Melanie wondering if he'd bother to shave at all this month. What did he look like in a beard? What secrets did a man like Stoney hide behind such a mask?
No more secrets than her own, she decided. And it wasn't for her to think about anyway. She had her own goals to realize, and she wasn't going to do that if she spent the entire month yearning for Stoney Buxton, no matter how much he made her heart stop with his drop-dead smile.
She eased herself away from him slowly, trying not to disturb his sleep. He stirred and rolled over on his side, revealing the strength of his bare shoulders.
The small cove was only about one hundred yards past the point where the horses were picketed. Even if Stoney woke up, she was sure to have some privacy.
She grabbed the basin and a bar of glycerin soap that was gentle on the environment and headed toward the cove. The morning dew clung to the ground and sent a chill racing through her with each step. Although it was June, the morning was rather chilly, and Melanie was almost having second thoughts about taking her dunk until she reached the cove and saw how inviting the water looked.
She took a good look around through the stand of pines, searching for any sign of animals. This time of morning, when the air was still cool, was a good time for moose, elk and bear to come to the water hole for filling. She said a silent prayer she wouldn't get caught with her pants down and took a dive off a large boulder that dipped off into a deep spot.
With the raging fire she felt inside after seeing Stoney, she was going to need this cold bath. If this didn't work, she was going to need to find a deep snow bank.
# # #
The next two days were spent trailing deeper into the wilderness of the Wind River Mountain Range. Deeper away from civilization. Deeper into isolation.
She'd spent so much time looking at the back of Stoney's head that she swore she'd counted each dark course hair that poked out beneath his hat. She knew the tantalizing way his body shifted to and fro in the saddle and how his muscled arms flexed as he maneuvered his mount. He'd look back only briefly, giving Melanie a curt smile when she'd catch him looking at her. The rest of the time, he seemed lost in his own world with her staring from the outside looking in.
She'd long since abandoned small talk and decided that, for all his assets, Stoney Buxton was a man of few words. But the way his gaze bore into her with such depth at those odd moments when their eyes would lock had her wondering just what he was thinking. She found it incredibly intriguing.
And she found it pathetically annoying. She would never have considered herself a chatterbox, but an occasional acknowledgment that there was someone else riding with him would be appreciated. Maybe he was just one of those mountain men who felt at one with his environment, free to lose himself in his thoughts. Melanie found herself imagining a lot about Stoney and what made him tick as the clip clop of horse hooves smacked the ground, hypnotizing her.
One thing was good about Stoney's distant behavior. Melanie found it easy to hide her diabetes from him. Although she'd felt a pang or two of guilt for not letting him in on such an important secret, she'd quickly brushed the feeling aside. She was in control. She'd packed her saddlebag with all her medical supplies; she felt safer having them close by during their ride. If she got lightheaded and shaky before she was able to eat a full meal, she knew how to take care of herself.
Each day Stoney pushed on longer and longer into the day until they would finally stop and set up camp as the sun sank low over the mountains. Today was no different. But it was also the first day they'd spent riding during a thunderstorm. Melanie was still soaked from her ponytail to her wool socks, and the thought of spending one more second in the saddle was torture.
They reached a stretch of pasture near a small stream just as the sun was passing through a patch of clouds. She shivered as a gust of wind lifted the edges of her rain poncho and decided enough was enough.
"This is as good a place as any to set up camp for tonight," she called out to him.
Stoney twisted in the saddle and looked at her beneath the rim of his cowboy hat. He was about to protest. Melanie was certain of it. But to her great relief, he just nodded. She could see by the way fatigue pulled at his features that the day had taken quite a toll on him as well.
\*
Stoney climbed down from the saddle and stretched out the aches in his back. "I guess you're right. It's been a long day," he said. He pulled off his hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as he released the horses. They quickly found their way to the water's edge.
Relief seemed to wash over Melanie as she dismounted. She was exhausted, no doubt. And so was he. Four days of non-stop riding in the saddle normally wouldn't be a big deal for him, but lack of good sleep made it hard for him to keep it up. Melanie wasn't use to it, but she'd given her best without any complaints. She'd earned his respect for that at least.
What was he doing this for anyway? If he had any sense at all, he'd call off this whole excursion. He was needed at the Black Rock. Not knowing what was happening was killing him. But he'd given his word, not only to Melanie but to his family. They were counting on him, and he couldn't let them down. Not this time. If you couldn't count a man's word as good, then what did he have left?
When the horses were watered and secured in the picket near a grassy area, Stoney reached for the hatchet. It had become a routine, almost like one married couples fall into after a time. Melanie would set up the camp stove and tents while he searched the area for fallen tree limbs. There was always plenty of wood to clean the forest and no need to cut down any fresh branches. It was important to him to keep their camping as low-impact as possible. He'd even insisted Melanie set up her tent on a flat rock to keep from digging stakes into the soft ground and flattening the ground beneath it. That had gone over real well, he thought wryly.
He returned to camp with a heavy load of wood filling his arms and immediately noticed that the quiet routine he'd come to rely on had been broken. Everything was the same as it was when he'd gone off into the pines. The tents were still rolled and packed away, along with the camp stove, and all the gear needed for cooking their supper. And Melanie was nowhere to be found.
"What now?" he moaned, searching the area for Melanie.
He dropped the stack of pine logs he'd spent the last twenty minutes hacking away at and scanned the area until his eyes zeroed in on her.
Melanie was crouched down on the other side of a large boulder, the tips of her boots touching the edge of the stream, her face lifted slightly like a woman would when she was anticipating her lover's kiss. She dipped her fingers into the stream and splashed a small bit of water on her face before feathering her wet fingers through her dark hair. She'd taken her ponytail down and the crease her hairband had made in her hair was clearly visible in the dying light. And she was talking softly.
Stoney moved closer, but far enough away on the other side of the boulder for her not to hear his approach. She was beautiful, and every bit of that beauty caused his blood pressure to creep higher and higher. The backdrop of her soft voice seemed out of place with the thunderous sound of his heartbeat in his ear.
He listened, knowing he shouldn't. He could scare her if she suddenly turned to find him there. But he liked the sexy sound of her voice, and he was just masochistic enough to want to torture himself. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd had beautiful women before, but he'd never been drawn to a woman this way.
"So what do you think, Dolly?" he heard Melanie say. "Maybe we could head out alone tomorrow and find a nice hot spring to take a bath in. I could sure use one to ease the aches out of my bones. We can even leave old grumpy Stoney behind for the day. Wouldn't that be heavenly?"
"No, it wouldn't," Stoney ground out, realizing for the first time she'd been talking to the horse---a damned horse!---about taking off alone.
The sharp edge of his voice apparently startled her. Melanie snapped her head in his direction, eyes wide like a rabbit caught in a snare, before she fell on her backside on the muddy bank of the stream.
"How long have you been standing there?"
"How long have you been talking to horses?"
She made a face. "They're nicer than people sometimes. They don't talk back but at least they don't ignore me, either."
"Is that what you feel I've been doing?"
"As a matter of fact, yes." She was standing now, brushing her hand across her derriere in a way that made his body tighten. Fleeting thoughts of his hands massaging the soft swells of her bare behind invaded his mind. Lord, he couldn't stand it anymore.
"The gear hasn't been unloaded," he said accusingly, hearing the clipped tone of his voice. Anger. That was the only way to keep these feelings at bay. It was a strong as his desire, but much more productive in this situation. "There isn't going to be any supper unless you pull your share of the load. I don't care how tired you are. We don't get to relax until the work is done."
Her expression was one of shock, and he immediately regretted the harshness of his words. He wasn't being fair to her. He hadn't had to say anything twice. No, she hadn't been knowledgeable about the ways of camping and trailing when they'd first set out, but she'd met the challenge head on, and he had nothing but admiration for her for that.
Melanie didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Her face said it all. She hated him. And at that moment he didn't much blame her.
She stalked past him, glaring at him with her full lips pouting and her movements stiff. She ripped the tent out of the vinyl bag and began erecting it on a flat grassy section. Stoney knew what she was thinking. The bent grass would be a soft cushion beneath her sleeping bag and provide a better night's sleep than sleeping on the flat boulder he insisted they sleep on last night.
He wanted to go to her. Not to tell her not to set the tent up on the grass and leave a print on the untouched earth. He wanted to go to her and take back all his harshness, all his anger. And he wanted to kiss her full lips until she smiled like she had that day in the meadow. He didn't think he could ever get enough of her sunshine face.
Instead, he turned in the direct of the wood pile and began pulling out small pieces of wood to add to the camp stove. He had to keep his mind focused on something other than Melanie.
She held on to her anger all through dinner, not giving him so much as a cursory look. Stoney figured it was just as well. He was liable to make things worse. They were only four days into this month-long trip and already he felt like he'd spent a lifetime trying to contain his urges. He'd been a horse's ass, but it was better than letting himself fall into manure.
When dinner was through, Stoney built a fire out of kindling and the paper goods that packaged their rations. It was a good way to get rid of the lingering smell of food so as not to attract animals to the camp. Melanie filled a pot of water and set it on the camp stove, still hot from cooking dinner, to heat water to wash their plates and cooking utensils.
The sounds of the night filled the air around them. He could hear the music of crickets and frogs calling nearby. This was the time of the day he loved the most, when everything was calm and serene. But inside Stoney was anything but.
"I'll do the dishes," she said, dropping dishes into the warm water she'd prepared.
"Make sure you don't dump the water-" he started to say, but Melanie cut him off.
Melanie threw down the pan and propped her fists on her hips. She'd had enough of Stoney's arrogance to last ten lifetimes. "Are you through?"
Stoney lifted himself from his sitting position on the ground and took a step closer. Four days ago she would have been intimidated by his presence. Right now, she was boiling over too hot to care.
"I've been doing the dishes for four days. I think I know by now not to toss the dirty water back into the stream."
His face was hard, but his eyes belied his scowl. In them, she saw something softer. She'd caught him staring at her more than once, his features calm and serene, only to have his expression turn to stone when he realized she was looking. It was if he was angry with her, and he didn't want to be.
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm done being your punching bag. If you didn't want to take this job, you should have told me and saved us both a whole lot of grief. Whatever reasons you have for deciding to take my offer are your own. But you don't have to take your foul mood out on me."
"Is that what you think I've been doing?"
"That and a whole lot more. Stoney Buxton you've pushed me, prodded me, barked at me until I can't stand it anymore. I'm tired. Not only from the long ride, cold baths, and bugs swarming everywhere, but of trying to keep up with you long enough to get you to believe that I can really hack this." She took a fortifying breath and brushed her hair away from her face with both hands. She charged forward and poked him in the chest. "Well, I'm tired of it. You can push me all you want, but as of this moment, I'm pushing back. You don't have to like me to get through the next month. I don't care if you detest the site of me. But I was hoping that at least we could find some common ground long enough to have a peaceful evening."
She heard the loud pounding of her heartbeat in her ear as she waited for the backlash. With her father, it would have been immediate. She stood her ground and waited, but the battle never came.
Stoney looked at her for a long agonizing moment, regret etched in his features. "You've got it all wrong, Sunshine," he said in a low voice. Turning away from her, he grabbed the hatchet by the fire and started walking out into the darkness.
Her bottom lip started to tremble. Damn, she didn't want to cry, but the tears were already coming. "Where are you going?" she called out.
He didn't say anything. He just kept walking until she couldn't see him any longer.
Picking up the pan and dunking it in the water, Melanie fought to see the basin of soapy water through her tears as she scrubbed the pot. Damn Stoney Buxton. Damn her for caring so much. What was it about this man that drove her insane? She'd met challenge head on her whole life. But with him, she just felt like a failure. Did he want to see her fail? Would that prove to him that he was right about her all along?
She sniffed back a few tears and chided herself silently for them. She wouldn't give Stoney the satisfaction of getting her down. She'd come to Wyoming with one thing on her agenda. But now she realized there was more she'd been seeking. She'd been in search of the freedom she never had in her life back in Long Island. Something about the Wyoming mountains felt like home to her. She felt like she belonged here. Why couldn't Stoney see that?
When she was finished drying the dishes and putting them back in the pack, she found a spot to dump the basin of dirty water. She was physically and emotionally drained, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a warm bed on a nice firm mattress with cool crisp sheets. She'd settle for her bedroll and decided that she wasn't going to notice the difference given her fatigue.
She wasn't sure just how long Stoney had been gone. As she placed her wet clothes by the fire to dry overnight, her imagination began to run away from her. The sounds of the forest were soothing during the day, but alone at night, everything seemed ominous. She recalled a story she'd read in the newspaper a few years back about a hiker who'd been attacked by a mountain lion while he camped. They'd taken all the necessary precautions by tying their food pack in a tree far enough away from their campsite and burning all the package remains in the campfire.
Stoney was out somewhere in the forest. She wanted him to come back. Not just because she was alone. His aloof behavior for the past few days made her feel like she was alone with the horses anyway. But she wanted him there with her. No matter how much they fought, she felt safer with Stoney, as if nothing could touch her if he was with her.
The higher elevation lent itself to colder nights. She stoked the fire, wishing she had a big log to put on it instead of small twigs. Stoney had taken the hatchet when he'd stormed off. Although she didn't hear him, no doubt he was out combing the woods for more downed tree limbs.
When he finally returned to camp, he had an armful of wood. Without a word, he dropped the logs and kindling to the side of the campfire and added a few pieces until the fire came to a roaring flame.
Melanie welcomed the heat, but she welcomed his presence more. He didn't say a word, and she finally decided she was too tired to try anymore. She lifted to her feet, rubbing her hands together near the fire once more before turning to the tent.
"Goodnight."
Stoney grasped her hand and swung her around to face him as she moved past. She glanced up and saw the same war raging in him that she'd been battling the past few days. "I haven't been fair to you," he began. "I didn't know how to handle the way I've been feeling, so I took my frustration out on you. That was wrong of me. I'm sorry."
She was still hurt and angry and didn't want to take his apology. "If you didn't want to come, then why are you here?"
He let go of her arm. "I had no choice."
She gave a wry laugh. "Like I could make you do anything you didn't want to do."
"We lost more than the barn in that fire." He didn't look at her. In a man like Stoney, pride ran deep. Showing any signs of fear was something she suspected was a rarity for him. He was strong, in physical form and in his integrity. As hard as he was on her these last few days, she suspected that maybe he was harder on himself.
Right now, he was vulnerable, and he was scared.
"We'd just taken out a mortgage and bought the acreage adjoining our property. I'd sunk every nickel of my rodeo winnings into the deal and borrowed the rest, hoping to expand the ranch. In short, we were in debt up to our eyeballs." He swallowed hard. "And then the fire..."
She reached out and touched his arm, feeling his muscles flex beneath her fingers. But he didn't move away. "Is that how your father got hurt?"
He nodded once. "It was a spontaneous combustion fire. It doesn't take much once hay and dry wood start burning. The horses were in the stables and Pop ran in to open the stalls, trying to get them free. That's when one of the beams collapsed on him. Mitch was there. Thank God, he was there. He dragged him out just in time. The barn was gone."
Tears filled Melanie's eyes, and a chill raced up her spine. "That's horrible."
He stood tall and cleared his throat. "Yeah. While I was getting up and wiping my hat off after getting thrown around in some muddy arena, Pop was being told he'd never get up and walk again. Never ride again."
She gasped softly. "Surely you don't blame yourself."
He shrugged. "I wasn't there. I should have been there for my father. Instead I was out doing the one thing they didn't want me to do. I was riding rodeo."
"No one knows when something like that will happen. How could being there have made a difference?"
"That's what I keep asking myself. It would have been different. The fire would have started anyway. I'm not saying I could have changed something like that. But I wasn't home. I'd convinced myself that money I was making rodeoing was helping the ranch. I was the one who pushed for the expansion. I was the one who was so sure I'd win enough money to keep us in the black. I left all the work for Mitch and Pop."
She saw his jaw tighten as if he were fighting to hang on the last bit of his emotion.
"I might not have been able to have stopped Pop from getting hurt, but at least I would have been there instead of hearing by telegram that my father was laid up in a hospital."
"That must have been hard for you."
He closed his eyes and exhaled a slow breath. "Not as hard as it is for Pop."
"I don't blame you for not wanting to leave him now."
"It was going to happen either way. It was either a rodeo or here. Mom has a hard time with me going back to rodeo, so..."
"All this time I thought you were acting this way because you hated me," she said quietly.
He rolled his eyes and gave a wry laugh. "I don't hate you. My Lord, Melanie, this would be a hell of a lot easier if I did."
Her eyes widened. "Then what? What has all this between us been about?"
He shook his head. "Don't go there. Just leave it alone."
"Why? If we're going to be in each other's back pockets for the next month, we need to get this out in the open."
"Some things are better left unsaid."
"I don't want to go on the way we've been."
"Neither do I."
"Then what do you want?"
He was so close, she could almost feel the heat of his body. His breath misted in the cold night air as he spoke. He reached up and touched her cheek, muttering an oath under his breath. With one swift movement, he pulled her to him, crushing her body against his rock hard chest. She felt his fingers curl into the soft flesh of her upper arms as his mouth came down over hers with a white hot intensity.
His kiss held an urgency, built of the frustration that plagued both of them since they met. She realized then that her attraction to Stoney was much more than simple lust. There was strength to Stoney that pulled her to him like a magnet. He dropped his hands to her waist and circled one arm around her, pulling her to him until she felt how tight and hard his body was with need. Heat coiled inside her and raced through each and every inch of her being. He drove his tongue deep inside her mouth and out again, teasing her, tantalizing her until a soft moan escaped her lips.
"You're driving me crazy," he whispered against her ear. His shallow breaths were hot against her cool skin. "How can I be this close to you and not want you as much as I do?"
His deep breath expanded his chest until it pressed firmly against her breasts, causing her nipples to respond by tightening into tiny little buds. She wanted to curl into the circle of his arms and never leave. The loneliness she'd felt just a few short moments ago became a distant memory. In his arms, nothing could touch her.
"You have a funny way of showing it." She didn't want to let him go. It was as if everything they'd been through was meant to lead up to this moment, when she was in his arms. She reached up and laced her fingers together behind his neck. She wanted his mouth on hers again. And she wanted so much more.
Abruptly he pulled away and dropped his arms stiffly by his side, turning his eyes toward the fire.
"It's no good. I'm not what you're looking for, Melanie."
"You don't know anything about what I'm looking for."
He backed away a few steps as if needing the distance for himself as much as for her. She immediately felt cold despite the warm fire they were standing by.
"I've met a lot of women on the rodeo circuit. Most of them aren't looking for a lasting relationship with a cowboy. They want the moment. It's a dangerous thing lovin' a cowboy. Expectations last one night, and then you're on to the next rodeo. What I know is that a woman with big dreams like you has expectations for the future. You won't find any with me."
Her head was spinning. How could he be telling her he didn't want her after kissing her the way he had? "Are you always this chivalrous?" She was aware of the bite in her tone.
"Right now I'm not feeling very chivalrous and I haven't since the moment you stepped on my ranch." He heaved a sigh and jammed his fingers through his thick black hair. "I want you, Melanie. Every bit of me is screaming to take you down and make love to you right here by the fire. But I can't."
"Yes-"
"No!" he roared, his voice startling her with its intensity. It seemed to echo like thunder off the mountains that surrounded them. "I want you to go into your tent and climb into your sleeping bag. Alone. You need to do that."
She hugged herself, trying her best not to feel the ache of his rejection. "I don't understand."
"There's nothing to understand because nothing can happen. Despite what we're feeling, nothing can happen. You've got your plans and I've got a ranch to keep from going under. That's why we're here. Let's not forget what brought us here."
She suddenly felt the weight of tears behind her eyes. The way he'd kissed her was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. She could almost still feel the imprint of his arms wrapped around her waist like it was a brand. Her heart still skipped with the memory. Her body was still hot and aching with unfulfillment.
"I haven't forgotten anything. I know why we're here. And I know exactly what I want."
"Maybe tonight. But that's not enough. Go, Melanie. Because if I touch you now, so help me God, we'll both regret it."
She bit her bottle lip until she felt pain. "If that's what you really want."
"It's what has to be."
\*
Stoney watched as Melanie turned away. He saw the unmistakable heartbreak in her cinnamon eyes and the tremble of her delicious lips. He stood there, watching as she climbed into the tent and secured the zipper. Part of him, the part that was still tight and nagging at him, wanted to go after her, to tell her to forget everything he'd said and make love to her. And he did want to make love to her. But as much as he ached to be inside her and kiss her until he stole her breath away, he knew he couldn't. It was the last thing he should do.
He'd done a lot of thinking while he was out gathering wood for the fire. Taking his frustration out by chopping a downed tree into a million smaller pieces hadn't given him the kind of relief he was looking for. Kissing Melanie, feeling her slender body in his arms only fueled the fire he'd fought hard to keep under control.
It wasn't just his past that kept him from taking the next step with Melanie. He'd seen the desire shining in her eyes like the full moon on a cloudless night. He'd felt her give herself up to him when they kissed and he wanted to drink all of the passion she had just waiting to give. He wanted to discover what he could do to make her moan and cry out his name.
But it wasn't the women in his past or the rodeo that kept him from taking back his words, crawling into her sleeping bag, and pressing his body against her silky bare skin. The women in his past hadn't expected anything from him and he had no expectations for a future with any one of them. But Melanie made him think of wanting more. More than one night in a lonely motel room. More than one night on the top of a cold mountain.
If he allowed himself to think anymore about it, he'd have to admit that with Melanie there was something more. She wasn't like the women of his past. With Melanie, he had expectations of the future. And that could never happen because as of right now, he had nothing to offer her. And he wouldn't enter into any kind of lasting relationship with a woman unless he could give her a life without the kind of worry he'd be facing. She deserved everything the world had to offer. And he had nothing to give.
He spread out his bedroll, feeling fatigue seeping into his bones. But he knew he wouldn't sleep. His body was still hard and reeling from the kiss of a woman he would never have.
He set himself down on top of his sleeping bag and let the cold mountain air wash over him as he looked up at the big Wyoming sky. There were women who were forgettable. So much so that Stoney could barely remember some of the names of girls whose company he'd had the pleasure of sharing.
Melanie was unforgettable. The kind of woman who left a man counting stars in the black night.
# # #
Stoney breathed in the pungent scent of moisture in the wake of the afternoon rain shower, his soaked clothes, and wet horse. He pulled on Thunder's reins until the horse obliged in stopping by the bank of the river they'd been trailing along. Chester and Dolly automatically followed the leader.
"Why are we stopping?" Melanie asked, reaching into her saddlebag for her canteen. He watched her take a long pull from her canteen and replace it in her saddlebag before he replied.
"This looks like the best place for us to cross," he said, looking hard to the right and to the left along the river's edge. They'd been riding along the bank for more than an hour, and he'd hoped to find a spot where the river was low enough for them to cross easily. No such luck. The banks of the river had risen considerably after the rain shower they'd gotten caught in earlier. This was probably as good as it was going to get.
He glanced back at Melanie and saw the fear flash across her face. She tried to act as if she wasn't scared, but he knew by the brightness of her eyes, and how she kept nibbling on her bottle lip as she watched the water slosh over the boulders in the creek that she was as frayed around the edges as Dolly. The river was moving faster than he would have liked, and it was just high enough so that the horses would probably have to swim. This was not exactly the ideal situation to take a newcomer.
He pulled Thunder around so he was facing Melanie. "What do you think? You up for this?"
She sat up straight and tall as an aspen pine in her saddle and confidently said, "Of course." But she couldn't fool him. He knew that beneath the surety in her voice and the determined look she cast him, she was masking her fear. Her knuckles were white as she held the reins in her hands. But he'd be willing to bet she'd rather bite off the head of a rattler if he suggested they not cross or keep going until they found a stretch that was low. He couldn't help but admire the fact that she wouldn't back down to her own fear.
"Thunder is a little more sure of himself than Dolly. He's been through this a few times. Why don't we switch-"
Melanie shook her head. "No," she said, lifting her head defiantly as she stroked the mare on the neck. "We've come this far together, we can go the whole way. Isn't that right, Doll?"
Dolly kept back stepping away from the bank, clopping her hooves in the mud. It was a clear indication to Stoney that she may bolt. Horses were normally skittish, but Dolly had had about as much as she was going to take during the last thunderstorm. As Melanie eased the horse closer to the bank, Dolly bobbed her head and nickered in protest. She stomped her hoof like a two-year-old having a tantrum, making it clear she wanted no part of that water.
Melanie made cooing noises and pulled at Dolly's reins in an effort to keep the horse in line. "We can do it," she said to Stoney.
He drew in a deep breath of cold mountain air that pulled at the tightness in his chest. "Okay, this may be a little tricky. I'm going to cross first, and I want you to watch for my lead. I have no idea how deep this water is going to get. If it ends up the horses will have to swim, then you're going have to slide off Dolly's back and swim along side her. Hold her reins to the side of her saddle so they won't tangle in your feet or her's and grab hold of the saddlehorn.
"The water is extremely cold and moving fast, so hold on tight or you could get pulled under your horse or taken down the river." He watched as her gaze bobbed from the fast moving stream to the bank on the other side. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Drawing in a deep breath that lifted her shoulders, she nodded, refusing again to let him see the fear he was sure she felt. "It can't be any colder than the bath I took in the lake the other day."
"Okay," he said, still not sure if he was making the right decision in letting Melanie attempt the crossing. If anything happened to her...
He forced his hat down so that it was tight on his head and gently kicked his heels into his mount's sides. With a quick rush, Thunder plunged into the cold water with Chester following along side.
Melanie watched as Stoney and the horses entered the rushing water. About a third of the way in Stoney slipped out of Thunder's saddle and plunged into the ice cold water. Her heart was in her throat, watching as the horses swam against the charge of water rushing downstream. Every once in a while water crashed over Stoney, soaking his head. Although they were moving fairly quick, to Melanie it felt like they were in the water forever. More than a few times she caught herself holding her breath, until she finally had to tell herself to breathe when Thunder and Chester clopped out of the water, bobbing their heads up and down with Stoney climbing out behind them.
He swung around, pulling off his black hat and giving it a shake before replacing it back on his head. "Your turn," he called out.
It's just a little swim across the creek, Melanie kept telling herself as Dolly inched her way into the rush. It's no big deal. She reached back and checked the saddlebag, just to be certain her much needed insulin was secure with no chance of it traveling down the creek without her. "Come on, girl, we can do this," she said in a soothing voice she hoped would coax some confidence into the mare.
The thrash of water clipped her boots, and she felt her heart in her throat. A numbing chill raced through her, and she wondered if she was really ready to take this on. She'd always talked so certain. Now she was second guessing herself about whether or not she could actually make it safely to the other bank. Would she put Dolly in danger? Would she panic? Would Stoney have to come in and rescue her if she did something wrong?
The water reached her thighs and she felt Dolly begin to buoy. She snapped her gaze up to the bank ahead of her and fixed her eyes on Stoney, hearing the slosh of water and the pounding of her heart in her ears.
"You're doing great," he called out, coning his hands around his mouth. "Now slide off and swim along side her." She didn't see any of the doubt she felt in Stoney's expression, and somehow that surged her on. He had faith in her. She was in control.
Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the charging water. For a second she went under and was clutched by the fear of drowning. Her body tightened as the frigid water seeped through her clothes. She emerged to her great relief and gasped for air, swallowing water in the process. She choked on the water, feeling as if her lungs would explode. Water drops clung to her eyelashes, making it difficult to focus, but she held tight to the reins and to the saddlehorn until she thought her fingers would break under her own pressure. Finally, she could breathe again.
They were half way across, and she felt herself drifting away. Stoney was her focal point as they moved through the water. As they veered off at an angle, he moved with them along the outer bank. He never took his eyes off her as if he knew she needed that connection. In his expression, she saw the faith in her that she lacked. She'd doubted herself, despite telling him otherwise. But he had every confidence that she could conquer this challenge. When had there been a time when someone had complete trust in her ability to handle a touchy situation?
Never, she realized with dismay. Her parents had always made it clear that because of her diabetes, there would always be some things she couldn't do. No matter how much she wanted to prove otherwise.
All the fighting, all the heartache of trying to prove she was more than what they said she could be, all the dreams and goals she'd set for herself, despite their disapproval, had led her to this moment. This moment when she could prove to herself that she could do all the things she'd always believed in her heart she could. And Stoney believed in her.
As Dolly rose up from the surface of the water, she realized the horse was no longer swimming. A giddy laugh escaped her as they reached the bank and Dolly began clopping out of the water. As Melanie's boots touched the rocks on the outer bank, she released her grip on the saddlehorn and fell back into the current, laughing.
With quick strides, Stoney rushed into the water after her. He wrapped his strong arms around her, lifting her waterlogged body until she was pressed firmly against him. They stood knee deep on the water's edge, staring into each other's eyes. Little drops of water were still beading down the side of his face and dropping from the edges of his cowboy hat. She kept laughing, and finally she saw his mouth stretch into a deep dimpled smile.
"I did it," she said, feeling weak in her knees from the cold and from the knowledge of what she'd accomplished. To anyone else, it may have been a small feat. But to Melanie, it was if she'd been set free from a vise that had taken hold of her long ago.
Stoney didn't let her go. His wet body pressed against hers and she felt the rise and fall of his chest against her wet breast. She felt his heat beneath the cold, drenched clothes. And she saw pride shining in his eyes.
"I never had a doubt you would, Sunshine." His gaze dropped to her lips and she couldn't help but lick them in anticipation of what he'd do. She suddenly felt invincible. Dangerous. And she was ready for whatever surprises Stoney had for her.
\*
"Don't look."
"I'm not looking."
Melanie rustled the branches of the small pine tree she was hiding behind. Despite the light from the moon, in the darkness Stoney couldn't see her.
"Yes, you are," she said, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "Now close 'em."
Stoney rolled his eyes, then obediently shut them tight, fighting the overwhelming urge to sneak a peek. "Oh, for God's sake, you have your underwear on. A bikini shows more than your drawers."
"Excuse me? I don't wear drawers," she said just as he heard the splash and felt the hot water slosh around him. "Oh, this is heavenly. Let's never leave."
"Fine by me," Stoney said, popping his eyes open. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness again, but his sight zeroed in on Melanie's body just a few feet away from his. The hot spring they'd found and decided to camp by was the perfect ending to the day. It wasn't until he'd sunk deep into the hot pool of water that some of the tension plaguing him eased.
The fact that Melanie was just a body's length away, donning nothing but her sweet underthings, was wreaking havoc with his body.
He leaned back on the boulder and let the hot water seep into his bones, looking at the millions of stars dotting every inch of the sky.
"Makes you feel small, doesn't it?" Melanie said.
"Yeah."
"Out here, all those things that seemed so important back home don't matter as much."
He glanced over at Melanie, who was swimming too far away from him, he decided. As she came closer, he could see her face in the light of the moon. Her wet hair was slicked back and she wore no makeup. She'd abandoned that ritual on the second day of trailing. Even without the glitter and paint, she was beautiful, making him wonder why she bothered to wear makeup at all. There was something soft and pure, unpretentious, when she was just being herself.
She smiled sweetly. "It's okay, you know."
"What is?"
"The ranch. You're worrying about the ranch, aren't you?"
In truth, he hadn't thought much about the ranch today. All he could keep his mind on was Melanie. Guilt suddenly stabbed at him. "Mitch is a workhorse. Mom will probably have to drag him in for a meal. But I have no doubt the ranch is in good hands." For the time being anyway, he thought.
"He's worked with you for a long time?"
"Going on ten years now until he went to Baltimore a few months back. He started on the weekends when he was still in high school, filling in for me when I was out on rodeo, which was just about every weekend. Then full time when I decided to go pro. Been with us a long time. I hate to see him leave."
"If he's happy at Black Rock, why would he?"
"There comes a time when a man wants to dig his own roots, have something to give his kin. It's been a dream of his to own his own ranch. He's just come in to some money himself, so who knows?" He dunked himself beneath the surface of the water. When he emerged, Melanie was right beside him.
"I'm surprised you haven't asked him for help."
Stoney dragged his fingers through his wet hair to get it off his face. "I did."
"I don't mean as a ranch hand."
"What? You mean money? I could never do that."
"Why not? You said he just came into money. He wants to buy his own ranch."
"I can't sell the ranch. I won't do it. It's been part of my family for generations." He heard his harsh voice, saw the startled look in her eyes and cursed himself.
She swam a few feet away from him. "Selling Mitch a share of Black Rock is better than losing the whole thing. You said you wanted to expand the ranch. Why not take on a partner?"
He thought about it for a moment. The idea had merit. Financially, it could put them in a better position to get back in the black. Finally, he pushed the notion aside. It was true he hadn't thought much about marriage and children in recent years but he did want something to pass on one day should he ever have a son or daughter of his own. "It wouldn't be Buxton land."
Melanie dipped her gaze before looking up at him again. "Ah, roots. I forgot. Forgive me for saying this, but you may have no choice."
"You think you're so smart," he said, teasingly, hoping to change the subject.
"As a matter of fact..."
"Okay, smarty, what made a debutante from Long Island want to be a Zoologist?" he asked.
She didn't respond right away and finally gave him a half grin. "I have a thing about being in the company of wild beasts."
He chuckled. "No really."
"I'm serious. I used to go to the zoo when I was a kid. I always loved going. But it always made me cry."
"Then why'd you go?"
"Because I couldn't not go. I'd see the animals all caged up and I thought 'I know how that feels'. I thought those animals where the only ones who knew how caged I felt." She glanced over at him, and cocked her head. In the light of the moon, he could only see the silhouette of her face, but he was sure she was blushing. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
"No."
She splashed him with a spray of water. "Yes, you do."
He stood up, towering over her and cupped his hands on the surface of the water, then began deluging Melanie with splashes. "Do you really want to start something?"
"Okay, okay, uncle," she said, laughing, holding her hands over her face to shield herself.
He sank back into the warm pool, laughing, and muttered, "Chicken."
"Oh, I don't know about that. One time when I was about nine, my mother had this charity event and one of the attractions they'd set up for the guests was a petting zoo. I was all dressed up in this frilly pink dress with white laced socks and patent leather shoes. I spent the whole time by the animal pen. I felt so bad because the animals were all huddled in these small corrals while everyone passed them by and gawked. I couldn't stand it. I kept crying and asking my mother to free them. She was too busy socializing. So when no one was looking, I pulled the pen free and let all the animals out." She covered her mouth with both her hands to muffle her giggles. He could see her shoulders shaking, making the water ripple around her from her motion. "You should have seen it. My mother was furious."
He couldn't help but chuckle, too, and the sound of their laughter echoed off the rocks surrounding the pool. It almost sounded surreal, and magical, and made him dizzy.
"There were these animals--goats and sheep, and there was even a small giraffe--running all over the place, jumping on people." She dipped her head to just above the surface of the water, unable to contain herself. Lord, how he loved the sound of her laughter. Tears filled her eyes and after a second or two she wiped them away.
"You do cause quite stir when you put your mind to it, Sunshine."
"I try. I knew then I wanted to work with animals. I wanted to go to Africa and see them in their natural habitat, free from the restriction of cages and fences."
"So why come here? Why not just go to Africa?" he finally asked.
Her voice sobered. "My father is rich."
"I knew that already."
"He knows how to use his money to get what he wants." She stretched her arms out along a boulder and tilted her head back against it for support. "A few of us in my graduate class were working with a professor who was looking for people to go to Kenya with him on an expedition. He'd just been awarded a grant, and he was taking a two-year sabbatical to study some of the wildlife. I was thrilled when he asked me to join his team. I couldn't believe it. Two years in Africa!"
"So what's stopping you?"
"I found out my father was the one funding the expedition. He never took my interest in Zoology seriously. He basically placated me, thinking I could use my experience for charity work later on when I married some stuffed shirt. He never dreamed I actually wanted to use my degrees."
"You have more than one?"
She nodded modestly. "My masters focused on perissodactyla and artiodactyla animals."
Stoney tossed her a wry grin. "Huh?"
She smiled. "Horses, rhinoceroses, camels, cattle. You get the picture. That's how I met Professor Lawrence. When I told my father I was going to Kenya, he threatened to pull the money." He heard her heave a quick sigh that held disgust. "I couldn't believe it. After all I'd worked for, what everyone else on that team had worked for, he was pulling the money. Because of me. I couldn't ruin it for everyone else by insisting I go, but I couldn't allow my father to keep controlling my life. When does your life become you own?"
"At birth, I suppose."
"That's the way it should be, but that's not the way it is sometimes."
"I still don't understand why you ended up here?"
"I was so angry when the professor confronted me with what my father had said. See, instead of coming to me, Dad went behind my back and demanded I be taken off the team."
"Without talking to you about it first?"
She nodded. "Professor Lawrence was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He didn't want to flat out tell me I couldn't go. But he couldn't stand how unfair the whole thing was, so he decided to tell me the truth in the hopes I could convince my father to change his mind."
"But he didn't," Stoney said.
Melanie shook her head. "Not Edmund T. Summers III. He doesn't want his little girl getting malaria, or being attacked by a lion or some such crud." She took a deep breath to compose herself, seemingly conscious of her tirade.
"He loves you. You can't blame him for wanting to keep you safe," Stoney said softly. For a moment she went perfectly still. He wondered if she thought he was a traitor, understanding her father's motives for protecting his daughter. But he did understand. It was exactly how his parents felt about him going back to bull riding.
"Sometimes living safe is like not living at all," she finally said.
Her vulnerability struck Stoney deep in his chest and made it hard for him to breathe. He wanted to reach out and touch her, feel her hair spill into his hand, smell the scent of her skin as he kissed her...everywhere.
He turned his attention to the stars dimly lit in the sky above. If anyone had told him a week ago he'd be out in the wilderness with a beautiful woman like Melanie, as if he didn't have a care in the world, he'd have laughed in their face. He felt like laughing now, except this was no joking matter.
She covered her mouth and yawned. "This was just the medicine I needed tonight. I could sleep for a hundred years now."
"You should turn in. We have a long trek ahead of us tomorrow."
"Close your eyes," she said. He did as he was told, and he heard the sound of water sloshing about as she lifted herself onto a boulder. "Okay, I'm decent."
He opened his eyes and saw that she was wrapped in a terry cloth towel that draped over her shoulders and hung just to the top of her thighs, giving him a sinfully good view of her long legs. Sitting in a pool of water, his mouth suddenly felt cotton dry.
"Aren't you coming to bed, too?" she said softly, staring down at him as if waiting for him to follow.
He shook his head. "I want to check on the horses, make sure they're okay before I turn in." He knew his excuse was feeble. He'd spent much of the past few nights awake, listening to the sounds of the night as if it would give him some truths, some antidote for what was nagging at him. He'd even listened to Melanie's rhythmic breathing as she slept, counting how many times she'd toss in her sleeping bag.
She hugged herself, pulling the towel tighter around her wet body. "Oh," she finally said. "Goodnight."
Their gazes locked for a brief moment. It didn't take much to figure out what was on her mind. It made him grow hard.
Boundaries. They'd drawn them and had to keep them. She finally turned, walking the short way toward camp, and slipped into her tent. When he heard the zipper close, Stoney eased out a long sigh.
Tonight, he'd wanted her. More than he'd ever had. How in God's name was he going to last the whole month if he couldn't keep this longing for Melanie under control? It was then that he realized that these crazy feelings he had for Melanie was more than just typical male lust. He'd known that feeling before, given into it when the opportunity arose while on the rodeo circuit. But this was more. Much more.
Melanie was a special woman. In her he saw the light of a thousand candles lighting his way down a path he hadn't thought he'd ever wanted to travel. And now suddenly, that was the only course he wanted to follow.
In the distance he heard the siren call of a wolf and wondered if he was calling his mate. He drew in a clean breath of mountain air, thinking only of how much he wanted to curl up in that tent with Melanie.
Boundaries.
Stoney waited until Melanie secured her tent before he climbed into his own. He dug into his duffel and pulled out the little battery operated lantern and hung it on the strap suspended above his head so that he could see what he was doing. The small beam of light quickly filled the small space.
He spread out his bedroll and quickly pulled on a dry pair of underwear and jeans. The sleeping bag was cold from being exposed to the elements. He crawled inside and felt the chill seep into his skin. But it would only take a few minutes for his body to be warm again beneath the flannel.
A few minutes later, he heard the sound of Melanie's zipper being pulled and footsteps digging into the ground just outside his tent.
"Is everything okay, Melanie?" he called out, but didn't get a reply.
Seconds later his eyes were drawn toward the sound of the zipper being pulled down. Melanie slipped into the tent carrying her sleeping bag.
"What are you doing?" he asked, leaning his upper body on his elbow. She was wearing the fresh pair of jeans she'd changed into and the wool sweater he'd seen her wear over the last few days.
"I'm cold," she said, plopping her sleeping bag on the space next to him.
"You just took a hot bath," he said, knowing she wasn't talking about that kind of cold.
"I'm still cold," she muttered softly. Deep, dark eyes filled with suggestion and question looked down at him. It wouldn't take but a slight sigh to escape her lips and he'd be there, with her her every move, her every desire. He wanted it, too.
Instead, he looked at the sleeping bag and then at her, trying to keep his raging desire at bay.
"I know. I am, too."
"Then let's keep each other warm."
And then she sighed. Just slightly. Enough for him to lose the last thread of control he had on his will. Lord, now he wanted her.
His breath hitched in his throat, and his heartbeat was like thunder in his ear. "Melanie, I told you-"
"I know." She knelt next to him and began rolling out her sleeping bag with the zipper edge against his sleeping bag. "I heard everything you said the other night. I've been lying in this sleeping bag alone every night since, turning it over and over again until I can't think about it anymore. There's just one problem."
"What is it?"
She sat back on her knees and stared at him, her eyes saying all he needed to know. "I don't know how you've been feeling but...I want you," she whispered, flipping a strand of hair behind her ear. "I want you so much I can't think. I didn't mean for this to happen, and I don't know how it did, but here we are." She said the whole thing in one breath as if she had to or she'd lose her nerve.
He stared at her for a long moment, looking at the shadows the small lantern cast on the delicate features of her face, listening to her breathing. He could almost hear her heart racing like a wild stallion in an open pasture.
# # #
Melanie stared at Stoney with a deep longing that overwhelmed him and made the blood pump wildly through his veins.
"A man only has so much strength," he rasped, hoping he could hang on to the last threads of his.
"Then give it up. I have."
She leaned forward on her knees and kissed him gently on the lips, her hair spilling across his shoulders. He felt his control slipping away. Lord help him, but he had none where Melanie was concerned. He pulled her down on top of him, crushing her against his chest. She was everything he'd imagined she'd be. She was soft and delicate and wild and hot all at the same time. He took her mouth with a savage passion that set his soul on fire.
He wanted to touch her, to feel her naked against his flesh, taste every bit of her until she moaned with exquisite pleasure. There had been women, but none as lovely and beautiful or exciting as Melanie.
He cupped her cheek and kissed her neck, drinking in the sultry scent of her skin that was all her. No perfume masked her sweetness. He continued the trail of kisses, pulling at her sweater, until he reached the valley of her chest. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her sweater. He pushed her hands away and lifted it over her head in one quick movement.
He was still in his sleeping bag. Too much lay between them. He unzipped it quickly and rolled with her until he was on top of her, cradled between her warm, soft thighs.
"You really don't know how I've been feeling?" He took her hand and boldly pressed it where his arousal stretched hot and throbbing against his jeans. Her eyes flew open in surprise mixed with anticipation...and red hot desire. Yes, she was turned on by the power she had over him. She was filled with the same need that was driving him insane. "This is how much I've been wanting you since I first laid eyes on you." He heard his ragged voice echo in his ear along with the sound of his raging heartbeat.
She pulled her hand away and reached behind her to unclasp her bra. Her breasts spilled out of the white lace fabric and she presented herself to him as if she were an offering. "Make love to me, Stoney."
He didn't need to hear her say the words. Her eyes said it all and more. But hearing the longing in her voice, feeling the urgency of her strokes against his chest, her fingers digging into his flesh of his shoulders, only surged him on.
He drew her taut nipple deep into his mouth and suckled, feeling her writhe beneath him, and he knew he was already close to release. He had to slow himself down. This was a woman worth loving and loving well. And he wanted to know every inch of her. He wanted to make her cry out in the night with the pleasure of being loved.
She arched her back and pressed his hand against her breast while he sucked and teased the other. Each moan of pleasure that escaped her lips surged him on.
She was pulling at him. "I want to feel you against me." He pressed his chest against hers as she dug her fingers into his thick hair. He was in agony. Every bit of him screamed out for her. He wanted to be inside her, feeling her, loving her.
In an instant the earth seemed to tilt. Yes, he wanted to love her...because he did love her. It had been torture keeping himself away all these nights, knowing she wanted him, knowing how much he wanted her. But a man only had so much strength, and now he'd given himself up to it, and he was in heaven.
He kneaded her breast and slipped his hand down her flat stomach until he found the zipper of her jeans. Slipping his hands beneath the fabric, he pulled her jeans and lace panties down until she was gloriously naked before him.
He stood up on his knees and gazed at her, the way her hair fanned out around the flannel sleeping bag like wildfire, the way her body moved impatiently waiting for him. Waiting just for him. "You're so beautiful," he rasped against her ear when he joined her again.
She dug her fingers in his hair and breathed hard as he made a trail of kisses down the middle of her belly and stroked the soft flesh on the inside of her thighs. Cupping her derriere, he lifted her hips and loved her with his tongue where she was hot and moist and completely on fire. She bucked beneath him, digging her fingers into his hair and calling his name over and over again until finally, he felt her body tighten and felt her body spasm with completion.
He drew in a deep breath and pulled away, all the while looking down at her as she breathed deep and her chest rose and fell quickly with each labored breath. He yanked the zipper down on his jeans under her watchful eye.
"Do you want me to turn out the light?"
She shook her head slightly, her eyes dreamy, as if she were drugged. "I want to look at you."
He stripped himself of his jeans and his shorts, baring as much of his body as his soul to her. Her eyes were blazing, taking pleasure in his nakedness as he had in hers.
His body screaming for his own fulfillment, he covered her with his body, feeling her hot flesh against his. She kissed him hard, wanting, giving of herself as only a woman does when she's been sated, lifting her hips to him.
He knew he couldn't hold on much longer. He needed to be inside her, moving with her in a rhythm that matched the power of his desire. He touched the tip of his erection to her moist opening. He wanted to bury himself in her, take her with all he had, but he didn't want to hurt her. Instead he eased himself in slowly. She was tight, which immediately sent a mixed signal racing to his brain. Then he hit the barrier that said it all. What she was giving him was something no other man had ever known. He instantly felt selfish for wanting her as he did.
He pulled back slightly to look in her face.
"Melanie?"
She pressed her fingers to his lips. "Ssh, please don't say it. I want this. I want you inside me."
He pressed his face against hers, breathing hard with aching need, knowing it would be torture if he had to pull away now. "Are you sure?"
She grasped his hips and pulled him to her, and the decision was made. He wanted to drive himself in her until they both ripped apart with their climax. He didn't want to care that he could hurt her, but he did, and because he did he held himself back enough to keep from tearing her in two.
They rode the wave of each thrust, together climbing until he could no longer hold on, and his climax split through him like lightning striking.
They held each other for a long time until finally he rolled over to his side, pulling her into the cradle of his embrace.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered, stroking the wisps of hair that perspiration clung to her face.
"It didn't matter."
"Of course it matters."
"Maybe it did once, when I'd been waiting for someone to come into my life. Someone special."
"So why now?"
Her eyes were glowing, and she smiled sheepishly, tracing his lips with her fingers. "I found someone special."
He didn't know why, but it scared the hell of him to hear her say it. He knew his feelings for her were real. He knew that she shared his desire. But he hadn't thought beyond what their love making could mean. And he didn't want to. Because it would only mean an end to the happiness he was holding in his arms right at that moment.
\*
It took considerable strength for Melanie to pull herself from Stoney's arms when she woke the next morning. She'd slept so peacefully. Making love with Stoney had been incredible and in his arms it was easy to forget...
She'd been lost in a whirlwind of emotion and desire. No matter how hard Stoney had tried to warn her that she shouldn't expect anything more than what was offered, she couldn't help it. Somewhere in the freedom of the mountains, in the cool night air, and sun kissed meadows, she'd fallen in love with Stoney Buxton. It was more than she could bear.
She didn't care that she was playing with fire. She'd wanted Stoney. She'd dreamed of him, of his rough hands running over her smooth skin, promising to bring her to heights she'd never been before. And he had. It didn't matter that he was only giving her a moment of his love.
His love? Stoney had never said that he loved her. She had been consumed with the love she felt for him. But she had no idea if his feelings were the same. Sure, he'd made love to her, but she'd also thrown herself at him.
Like he'd said, a man only has so much strength. Making love didn't make Stoney in love with her. It made them lovers.
With the morning light, she needed to keep her head straight and take care of herself.
Guilt stabbed at her. She had shared the biggest part of herself with Stoney last night. She never knew she could feel so connected to one person. And she was lying to him.
Well, not lying, she reasoned as she climbed into her tent and pulled out her medical supplies. She was keeping an important secret from Stoney. She hadn't told him about her diabetes, and he had a right to know. But would he understand her reasons for not telling him in the first place?
She quickly finished packing her duffel and took down her tent while Stoney slept. She made a vow to herself. They were going to reach the high country today. Tonight when they set up camp she would tell Stoney everything and hope he'd understand. After all, everything had worked out well so far.
\*
Ominous black and gray clouds rolled over the sky from nowhere. Melanie had never seen anything like it before in her life. Her heart jumped to her throat with each crack of thunder.
"This storm looks like it is going to be pretty bad. We're going to need to take cover," Stoney said worriedly.
"I'm not bothered by a little rain."
"It's not the rain I'm worried about. These storms come in quick, but they can be brutal. Especially at this higher elevation. The thunder and lightning is like nothing you've ever seen. I have no desire to be a human lightning rod."
Dolly started whinnying and bobbing her head as another boom of thunder ricocheted off the mountains.
Stoney looked at the landscape as if he was assessing the best place to go, his face grim.
"Hold on to her," he said, glancing back. "It looks like there may be someplace for us to hold off until the storm passes down this hill. The path looks a little narrow, so take her good and slow. I'm going to go down first. Give me a little room for Thunder and Chester to move at their own pace, and then come down after us."
Stoney led Thunder and Chester down the rocky path. At first Melanie didn't think it was any harder than the other trails they'd been on so far. But as the rain beat down harder and a river of water washed the rocks beneath Dolly's hooves, her adrenaline kicked in. They'd always attempted their downhill climbs in good weather. Now with Dolly on edge every time a thunder clap ripped through the sky, Melanie wasn't so sure of herself.
They'd made it half way down the embankment when the trail gradually pitch off to one side, revealing a steeper cliff. She let Dolly lead and take as much time as she needed, nudging her only when she stopped for more than a few seconds.
Relief filled her when they finally reached the bottom. It was raining hard now. Stoney slid out of the saddle and began searching one of the duffels until he pulled out two rain ponchos. Melanie sprang from the saddle and held on to Dolly's reins while she pulled the poncho over her head.
Abruptly, a bright flash of lightning zipped through the sky and struck a tall aspen pine just on the edge of the forest. The tree snapped like a matchstick and fell to the ground with a booming crash. They were far enough away to be out of danger. But it was close enough to spook Dolly, who reared up and neighed.
"Whoa!" Melanie pulled Dolly's reins, but Dolly would have no part of it. The ruckus was enough to rile Thunder and Chester, and Stoney fought to keep them in control. Another clap of thunder rolled in, and Dolly reared up, causing the reins to break free of Melanie's grip. Without anything holding her back, Dolly took off on a run like a wild stallion. All Melanie could do was stare as the mare bolted into the forest.
"Damn! We'll have to wait until the storm subsides to go after her," Stoney said. "Right now we need to take cover."
As Stoney promised, the storm went as quick as it came. Completely drenched, they walked through the wooded area where they'd seen Dolly last. After an hour of searching, they found the mare in a thick stand of pines, her reins tangled in a low tree limb. Despite her efforts to break free, she was stuck. Melanie breathed an instant sigh of relief.
When they reached the frightened horse, Stoney worked to unsnarl her reins while Melanie stroked her hand up and down Dolly's nose. It was then that Melanie thought her world had shattered.
She looked past the saddle to the horse's smooth backside where her saddlebag was once secured. She felt the blood drain from her face, and she began to sway. The saddlebag holding all her insulin, her lifeline, was gone.
Stoney stood beside Melanie, his eyes drawn to her trembling hands. She turned around to face him and he had to stifle a gasp. "That storm must have rattled you as much as it did Dolly. You're as white as these snow capped mountains," Stoney said.
"My saddlebag is gone," she said weakly, smoothing the back the ruffled coat behind Dolly's saddle as if willing the bag to reappear.
Stoney bent down and carefully inspected the horse's legs, checking for injury. "She doesn't look hurt, just spooked." He glanced over at Melanie. She frantically searched the ground around the immediate area. "What are you doing?"
She didn't answer and continued searching.
He stood up straight and called out, "It must have broken free when Dolly bolted. It could be anywhere within the mile we just came."
Melanie drew in a labored breath and swung around. Her face was haunting. "I need that bag, Stoney."
"We'll look for it tomorrow."
"You don't understand. We have to find it now!"
Maybe he'd been wrong to take her this far up into the mountains. She could be having a reaction to the altitude. Some people did and spent a good deal of time wishing they were dead until the ill feeling past. But Melanie didn't look as if she were about to lose her lunch. She looked drawn and afraid.
"It's going to be dark soon. We might walk right over it and not see it. You had food in the saddlebag, didn't you?"
"Yeah, some."
He heaved a sigh. "That does present a problem. An animal might smell the food and take off with it."
Her eyes flew open wide and her expression was one of sheer horror. "There were things...I have to find it, Stoney." She turned and walked back the way they'd just come, scanning the surrounding area as she went.
He took off after her. "Now hold on. We're losing the light." He curled his fingers around her upper arm, forcing her to stop. "As long as an animal doesn't stumble upon it during the night, we should be able to backtrack tomorrow."
She hesitated a moment, then nodded, but the worried look remained. "Do you think it is likely an animal will take it?"
He bent down and kissed her cheek. He wasn't sure for whose benefit. Her skin was cold and clammy, and he noticed she was trembling. He had the incredible urge to scoop her up into her arms and hold her close, as he had last night. "Don't worry. You can probably replace anything you lost when we get back."
She didn't look appeased. Instead, she took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around herself as if she were fighting a chill.
Women. He never understood all the money they spent on beauty supplies that men never gave any mind to. Delia had her dresser littered with the stuff growing up. Melanie was probably worried about missing her favorite perfume or face cream when she should be worrying about losing the essentials. Up in the higher elevations they didn't have to worry about mosquitoes and black flies biting through their clothes. But once they made their way back down to the valley again, she wouldn't be thinking about cosmetics as much as the extra bottle of bug juice she'd lost in that pack.
"Come on, your teeth are chattering. We're soaked to the bone. Let's just set up camp and get a fire going so we can dry these clothes. Some hot supper and a good night's sleep will do us a world of good." He drew her into his arms and brushed his hand across her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin against his rough fingers. "I promise we will look for the saddlebag in the morning."
They ate dinner in virtual silence. Stoney noticed Melanie picked at her food but kept drinking water from her canteen. If she was feeling sick from the altitude, it was just as well. The food would only come back up with a vengeance.
As beat as he felt, and knowing Melanie was just as bad, he built the campfire to help dry out their clothes. Once he finished checking the horses, he found her sitting by the fire with her arms wrapped tightly around her middle.
"You'll warm up fine once we're in the bedrolls. Are you sure you're feeling okay? You know, there's no shame in admitting you're having trouble with the altitude."
A tear rolled down her cheek, and it glistened with the light of the fire. "I'll be okay if you hold me."
He opened his arms and she came to him in an instant. He felt her body ease slightly into his, felt her tremble, felt the tension in her muscles despite his attempt to bring her comfort.
"You aren't still worrying about your saddlebag?"
She shook her head weakly, but he didn't believe her. Something was definitely wrong.
"Here, let me help these," Stoney said, taking Melanie's hands in his and rubbing them.
Melanie couldn't help but think of how her hands felt so small in Stoney's larger, more powerful hands. It was if nothing could hurt her if she was with him. She hadn't expected to feel the way she did. Over the past few days, it had been easy to forget the reason they were here at all. She recalled Stoney's warning after he'd kissed her the other night. Let's not forget the reason we're here.
She had forgotten. She'd fallen in love with the big Wyoming Sky and the Wind River Mountains. Out here, she wasn't different or special. She could just be herself.
But that wasn't all, she realized. She'd fallen in love with Stoney. Somehow he'd crept into her heart when she wasn't looking and claimed it for his own. When she was with him, she felt whole. It was something she'd never known before.
"Let's get some sleep," he finally said.
The burden of tears weighed heavy behind her eyelids and she bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. She held his hand tight. It was now or never. She couldn't keep this secret from him any longer.
"Tell me what is wrong," he said, looking at her for the first time with concern.
Melanie drew in a deep breath and worried her bottom lip.
"You're not having second thoughts about last night, are you?"
She snapped her gaze up to his face. "No, no. I don't. Do you?"
He shook his head, but his worried look remained. Bending his head, he kissed her forehead. "Never." He finally gave her a half grin. "Now that we've settled that, why don't we crawl into those sleeping bags and generate a little heat."
He tossed her a deep-dimpled grin. It was that sexy happy-go-lucky grin that drove her crazy so often.
"I need to tell you something." She felt the weight of her predicament on her shoulders. She took a deep breath and stared at him, trying to push the words past her fear. "I'm in trouble, Stoney."
He searched her expression. She saw a thousand emotions pass through his features before she finally saw bewilderment.
She continued. "We have to go back. Right now."
He stood up straight, his eyebrows knitting together. "No, you're doing great. Look at the way you crossed that river without any help from me. Before we started, I thought you couldn't hack it, but I have to admit you're doing better than I thought a pretty little city gal would do out here. Give yourself some credit."
Her heart ached with his compliment, however left-handed. She'd deceived him, and now that deception was coming back to haunt her. He assumed she was having doubts about her ability to make it the whole month. After all they'd been through these past couple of days, he believed in her.
She should have told him about her diabetes. She knew that now. He had a right to know. But hindsight was a luxury she hadn't put faith in.
"I'm sick, Stoney. I'm really sick."
# # #
Stoney's eyebrows knitted together with her words. "You didn't pick any of those berries we saw yesterday, did you?"
Melanie shook her head impatiently. Puking from eating a hand full of bad berries was nothing compared to what she was facing. "No."
He heaved a sigh, showing his relief. "Good, because they'd make you wish you were dead."
She clenched her stomach as a wave of nausea hit.
His expression blanched. "Tell me what's wrong."
"I have diabetes," she blurted out.
His face didn't register any change, and she knew he didn't understand. How could he? She'd hidden it from him the entire time they'd been together. How could he know that she had the kind of condition that required daily medical attention?
She drew in a deep breath of clean air to help settle her nausea and started again. "The lost saddlebag--"
"Oh, God," he gasped, closing his eyes as awareness seemed to flood him.
"It had my insulin and my blood machine." She swallowed, tasting bile. "I've been diabetic since I was seven."
His jaw tightened, and his breathing was labored, but the fear etched on his chiseled features was unmistakable. In his face, she saw that he was afraid, and he was angry. And he had every right to be. Her heart pounded in her chest, knowing whatever wrath he'd yet to unleash was much deserved on her part.
"I know I should have told you."
"You're damn right!" he thundered. His voice seemed to reverberate on the mountains around them, causing Melanie to hunch down. "Good Lord, Melanie, what were you thinking? We're a good two days away from any help at all. The radio is no good up here. Your medical supplies are gone, and we have no way to contact anyone to help us get you out of here."
He began pacing. He pulled off his hat and jammed his fingers through his dark hair.
"I thought I had it under control," she countered.
Stoney paced in front of her, his warm breath clouding as it hit the cold night air. After a minute he stopped, and she silently watched his eyes graze the black nothingness of the night. She guessed he was quickly trying to assess their options. But she knew any one of them would be grim. She had only one hope, to get to a hospital as soon as possible and regulate her sugar. She was cold and she hugged herself to keep from shivering.
"Okay," he began, taking each breath with visible control. "We're two days from any kind of help. A day and a half if we push ourselves. What can I expect? How are you going to hold up?"
She clenched her hands together and said, "I should be okay tonight. I had a full dose of insulin this morning, and my night insulin shot is always a much lower dosage."
"Okay, that's tonight. What about tomorrow?"
"I didn't eat that much tonight. I need to keep drinking water and moving. Tomorrow I'm going to start to feel it. After two days...it could be bad."
"Define bad."
"Fatigue, disorientation."
He swallowed. "And then?"
Melanie's heart squeezed. She knew what he wanted to hear, but couldn't give him the words that would bring him comfort. This was not a time to lie.
"Everything is gone?" he asked, a wistful hope in his eyes.
She gave a faint nod, hating the way the disappointment hit him. "The insulin. My blood monitoring machine and my sterile hypodermic needles." She threw her hands up in the air, but had to stifle her panic as the enormity of the situation hit her. Fear flashed across his face at an alarming speed. Fear she wouldn't allow herself to feel fully. She had to stay calm and alert if she had any chance of helping Stoney get her through this alive. "Everything."
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath that stretched his chest against his shirt and tugged his jacket open. She saw him shudder. The sun was long gone, and it had to be close to freezing at this altitude. Stoney didn't appear cold. He was numb, oblivious to the elements and lost in whatever it was he was trying to figure out.
"I know all about this disease," she assured him, trying to instill some semblance of confidence. She touched his shoulder, feeling how taut his muscles grew beneath her fingers. "I take care of myself."
He shrugged his arm from her hold. In his expression, she saw the cold mask he'd worn for the first few days they'd been together. He was shutting himself off again. "Do you? Then why the hell didn't you tell me?"
"How would telling you have prevented this?"
"I would have known!"
"You would have coddled me," she countered. "You wouldn't have agreed to help me."
He shook his head.
"A week and a half ago you would have jumped at any reason to turn me down. Telling you about my diabetes would have been an easy out for you."
He looked at her, and she noticed some of his anger had eased, but not his fear. "You're right. But you still should have told me before last night. I had a right to know."
Her heart plummeted. "How would that have made a difference?"
"I'm responsible for you. I'm supposed to be protecting you."
"Don't give me that macho crap. How would telling you about my diabetes have changed our making love?"
His eyes bore into her for a long agonizing moment before she saw them soften. "It wouldn't. But it would have shown that you trusted me." He turned away from her.
"I thought I made that more than apparent last night."
He grabbed his saddlebag from the ground and began sifting through it, pulling out items and dropping them to the wet earth. Finally, he opened the map.
"I thought you said you didn't need that."
He didn't look at her. "I have to think." Gripping the map, he crumbled it and threw it to the ground. "I could have separated the vials," he mumbled.
"What?"
"I could have put the vials in different duffel bags or...something. If we'd lost one, we'd still have enough to get us back. If I had known..."
He was right. She'd been wrong to keep something so vitally important from him. She wasn't experienced enough in the wilderness to understand the dangers of what she was risking. But Stoney was. He'd tried to tell her the first day she'd asked for his help. She hadn't trusted him with her secret, and now it was too late.
"I'm sorry."
"Me, too. But we don't have time for that. You need to tell me everything if we're going to make it to the reservation."
"The reservation? We're not heading back the way we came?"
"It'll take too long to get you to the hospital in Riverton. The clinic on the Wind River Reservation is closer. Joshua will take care of you. But right now we need to get some rest so we can get up early and find that saddlebag. Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky."
Stoney held her tight during the night and slept as restless as she had. Now with the morning light, they had to get moving. She needed to find that damned saddlebag and her insulin.
Stoney had been right. They wouldn't have been able to find it in the dark last night. She'd eaten a light dinner and drank plenty of water, like she'd been taught, hoping to keep her sugar level down. In Stoney's arms it was easy to forget that she had diabetes. She'd wanted him to hold her and it felt so good when he had. There was nothing they could do to find her insulin until the morning anyway.
But now it had been a full 24 hours since her last insulin shot. She'd never allowed herself to go this long before. Fear flew through her at an alarming speed. Would she make it to the clinic in time? Would she lose everything and Stoney, too? She didn't want to think about it.
She lifted up, leaning on her elbow, feeling the weight of Stoney's strong arms holding her and keeping her body warm. She was drawn not only to the erotic scent of the man who'd brought her to the pinnacle of passion, but to the scent of clean mountain air. The kind of fresh morning air you only breathe in after a new snow fall.
She quickly threw on the clothes she'd worn the night before and climbed out of the tent. Her heart nearly buried in the frozen ground when she saw the blanket of white covering the ground around them. It would make it almost impossible to find her saddlebag now.
Already her mouth was parched. She needed water fast. And she had to find that saddlebag.
It was only a short walk to the tree where Dolly had tangled herself the previous night. Maybe if the trees had sheltered the ground around the area from snow, she still had a chance of finding the saddlebag...and her insulin.
Disappointment hit her hard in the chest. The snow covered her boots past her ankle. Each and every small bump in the snow looked like it may be her saddlebag. She quickly brushed away the snow on a few mounds she found on the ground only to have a boulder or clump of sticks reveal itself. They'd waste a lot of time looking for her saddlebag. Their best bet was to head back.
She wrapped herself in her fleece lined jacket in an effort to keep herself warm, feeling the crisp air singe her nose and her lungs. As she made her way back to the tent, she heard Stoney stir. A minute later he pulled down the flap of the tent and stepped out into the morning sunshine. He shielded his eyes until they adjusted to the glare of the sun on the snow.
Beneath his jacket she saw a blue thermal cotton shirt he hadn't bothered to tuck it into the waistband of his jeans. He rubbed his hands as he walked over to her, kicking up light snow as he stepped. His face was void of the serene look he'd had yesterday morning. Of course, they'd made love the night before. She'd wanted to believe she had a hand at making his step a little lighter then. She was sure the drawn look he gave her now was her doing.
Reaching out, he scooped her up from the boulder she'd been leaning against and kissed her soundly on the lips. She wanted to melt into him. She wanted him to make her feel warm and protected like he had last night and the night before when they'd made love. Cupping her cheek, he kissed her lightly now and then pulled back to look at her face.
"I'd say it's a beautiful morning, but this does present a big problem," he said.
She looked away toward the trees. "I've already been out there searching."
He looked at her at arms length. "Without me?"
"I didn't go far. Just to where we found Dolly. It'll take a miracle to find that saddlebag, Stoney."
His sighed and looked toward the snow covered aspen pines. "Then we'll head back to the Ranger Station and hope for a miracle there."
Melanie drew in a deep breath of cold morning air, getting no relief from it, thinking about the long trek ahead. Little did Stoney know, it was going to take a miracle.
\*
Stoney held Melanie tight against his chest as they rode. Holding on to all three horses and Melanie was more difficult that he'd anticipated. They were moving too slow. He could leave Dolly and Chester behind, and just take Thunder and they'd get there a lot faster, he suspected. But they still needed to cross the river. Would Melanie be strong enough to handle that?
"How are you doing, Sunshine?" he asked.
"Tired," she muttered, slumping back against his chest.
"It's okay. Just lean back against me for a while. We're just going to go a little bit more."
"I need to walk again. I need to burn off some of the sugar in my system."
She'd been walking on and off all day instead of riding in the saddle. For the last half hour he rode with her on Thunder. He felt safer with her next to him.
"You're too weak."
"It doesn't matter. I have to do it," she insisted, pulling on Thunder's reins signaling all three horses to stop.
In the end he conceded, letting her walk alongside Dolly as he walked aside Thunder and Chester.
Thank goodness for the full moon, Stoney thought as they made their way through a grassy pasture. It wasn't a good idea for them to be trailing at night. It made it difficult to judge the terrain. The last thing he needed was for one of the horses to lose their footing. At least the moon cast enough light while they were out in the open to make it easier to see. When they reached the thick stand of pines, visibility would be gone and they'd have no choice but to stop for the night.
Stoney had never known fear like this before. He felt so helpless knowing there wasn't a damned thing he could do to help Melanie. Nothing but stay with her and push on.
When they finally decided to stop, Melanie persisted in setting up the tent and the sleeping bags while he took care of the horses. He found her curled up on top of her bedroll inside the tent.
"Here, drink some water."
She took the canteen and kept drinking. "It's empty," she said weakly.
"I'll get more. Are you hungry?"
She shook her head. "I'm so tired, Stoney."
"Okay, you rest."
He made a light dinner. There wasn't much that Melanie could have that wouldn't elevate her blood sugar even more. She picked at what little she could. He filled both canteens with water, just in case she needed them during the night, and readied a spot near camp in case she had to go to the bathroom. She kept having to pee. She said that was normal. Although he'd wanted to help her in her weakened state, indignation rose up and she insisted on doing for herself.
After he'd packed away the last of dinner supplies, he slipped in beside her, fearing the night and what may come. How would she be when they woke up in the morning? She'd be worse, no doubt. He didn't want to think about whether or not they'd make it to the clinic in time.
"Stoney?"
Her voice was clearer and stronger than it had been, giving him a momentary feeling of relief. Maybe all she'd need is a little sleep.
He stroked his fingers along her temples. "You feeling better?"
"A little." She was quiet for a moment, but he thought her heard her sniff back a sob. "I'm sorry, Stoney. I didn't mean for this to happen."
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. With Melanie safe in his arms, he felt more secure, like all the awful things he feared wouldn't touch them. He wanted to believe they'd wake up in the morning and she'd be feeling like her old self again, kicking up a fit because he was coddling her. But he knew it was a lie. He'd seen how fast she'd faded on him today. And from what she'd told him, tomorrow would only be worse.
"Ssh."
"You must hate me for this."
He closed his eyes. No, hate had nothing to do with the way he felt. It was then that he knew for sure that he loved her. Somehow, despite all their differences and dreams, he'd fallen in love with Melanie. He couldn't think about what would happen if they didn't make it to the reservation in time. He didn't want to think about tomorrow and how much weaker Melanie would be, how much more she'd rely on him. He only wanted to think about how she felt in his arms at that moment. How making love with her had been everything and nothing he'd ever felt before.
He buried his face in her hair and kissed her, letting his lips linger against her silky strands, breathing in the fragrance that was uniquely Melanie.
"Try to get some sleep."
She murmured and he listened to her breathing until it was steady. He continued listening until his own body gave up to fatigue and joined her in sleep.
# # #
Dawn didn't come soon enough. Melanie had never felt so retched in all her life. Her body shook and her mouth was filled with the foul taste of bile. Damn, she'd always been careful. She'd always made sure she put her health first. How could she have been so stupid?
She rushed out of the tent and found the place she'd visited at least twice during the night to relieve herself. She kept waking up, her throat as dry as a cotton field, and drinking water from the canteens Stoney had left by her sleeping bag.
The sun was just peaking over the mountains now. They should get going soon. Although the lower elevations were warmer and it looked as if the day was starting out to be beautiful, Melanie knew that weather could change at any moment. If they hit a thunderstorm, it would slow them down enough to keep them from getting to the reservation.
She hated waking Stoney. He'd been so restless during the night. It was early morning when he'd finally fallen into a deep sleep and surely hadn't gotten enough to keep up his strength.
Melanie climbed into the tent and plopped down onto the sleeping bag beside Stoney. He was already stirring as she brushed her fingers across his temples.
"We're moving too slow. I'm not sure we're going to make it to the reservation by nightfall," was the first thing out of his mouth when his eyelids drifted open. Clearly, this was what had taken hold of him all night.
Stoney watched the lines around Melanie's cinnamon eyes deepen with fear, wishing he had the power to smooth them and make her smile again. Still, he didn't speak out loud the words he feared the most.
He lifted himself up from the ground and leaned on his elbow, nuzzling her shoulder, kissing her and trying to bring himself some comfort.
"I'm going to head out alone today," Stoney said delicately.
Melanie stiffened and drew away slightly, piercing him with a shocked look. And he knew what she was thinking. She thought he was abandoning her. Though he knew that going out on his own he'd be able to get help faster, that was exactly how he felt.
"I can move faster on Thunder if I-"
"If you don't have me holding you back?"
"If I can get in range, I can radio the Park Services. The Ranger may be able to get a helicopter to meet us." He reached over and took Melanie in his arms. He didn't want to let go. To his great relief, instead of pulling away, she sank against him. He wasn't there for his father when the barn collapsed, and now he was leaving Melanie. God, he didn't want to let her go. "You're not going to be able to handle crossing the river," he said, hoping she'd understand.
She straightened her spine, about to give him hell like she'd done so many times over the past week. Abruptly, her tension was gone as quickly as it came. "You're right," she said softly. "I'm not strong enough, and I'm slowing us down."
Her eyes filled with unspilled tears and were so sad it made his heart ache. He pushed back the strands of hair from her face and brushed her cheek with his thumb. "I'm coming back as soon as I can radio help. I know you're afraid, but I'm going to be back..." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I promise you, I'm coming back for you."
"Of course you will," she said, her lips stretching into a smile, her voice suddenly confident. That was his girl. Lifting herself up to the challenge. But deep inside all he felt was how he'd let her down.
He didn't waste any time packing. They could leave their gear and come back for it later, after Melanie was safe. Before he mounted Thunder, he checked his saddlebag twice to make sure the radio was packed and ready. He was about to strap his shotgun on the saddle and abruptly stopped.
Gripping the cold steel, he turned to Melanie, who was standing a few feet away. He held out the shotgun to her. "Keep this by your side."
She shook her head and placed her hand over her stomach.
"I've never shot a gun before in my life. I wouldn't know what to do with it."
"I can't leave you here with nothing. You have to have something to protect yourself."
She opened her mouth to speak, but instead of saying her peace, she gripped the gun awkwardly in her hands. Stoney quickly explained how to unlock the safety and fire.
The heat of the sun was beating down on him when he finally mounted Thunder. The warm smell of sagebrush and pine lingered in the air. He nodded his head toward the gun on the ground by the tent. "You use it if you have to."
"I'm not going to need it. You'll be back," she said, smiling. He felt like hell was eating a hole inside of him, and she was smiling her sweet sunshine smile. Lord, how he loved this woman.
He rode away with only one thought. He was leaving Melanie behind to face God only knew what. And though she had faith that he was going to get help for her, he had no idea if he was going to make it in time.
It was more than two hours before Stoney made it to a meadow. It immediately brought back the memory of watching Melanie picking wildflowers on the day they rode out at the ranch.
He was still more than a half days ride to the nearest Ranger Station. Thunder was pushing at a good clip, moving with Stoney as if the animal were an extension of him. The weather was on his side. He just made it to the cover of the pines when he'd heard a sound the made him pause. "Whoa, Thunder," he said, pulling on the reins and listening. Although they were no longer moving, Stoney had a hard time hearing over Thunder's movement as he clopped in place on the dry earth.
There it was again. It was faint, but unmistakable. He jumped from his mount, dug through the saddlebag for the two-way radio, and ran to the open meadow he'd just passed.
The big sky was crystal blue, and the mountains looked as if they held him captive. He'd never felt trapped by the mountains before. This had always been his country. But with Melanie alone and not knowing what to expect when he made it back to her, he felt as though he were imprisoned there. He looked into the sky and focused on the sound of the engine until he found the tiny speck in the vast cerulean ocean that was a small water plane flying overhead. This was it! All he had to do was radio a message to the plane and find the spot where he could land. He only prayed that it was not too late.
\*
Melanie's eyes drifted open to the sound of a droning hum. The florescent lights above the bed--yes, she was definitely in a bed and not on some cold, hard rock--blinded her until she could adjust her eyes. Where was she? She tried to remember. The mountains. The trail. The lightening. Stoney's arms. Stoney leaving her...
Turning her head, she saw the familiar sight of an IV bag hung on a chrome stand with a rubber tube attached to her right arm. The room was a bright antiseptic white, almost blinding her eyes. Her head--her whole body for that matter--felt as if a sledgehammer had taken open assault on her.
It took considerable strength to roll over and when she did, she saw him. Stoney was propped in a side chair too small to fit his long body, and he was asleep with his head rolled back against the wall.
She gazed at him for a long time until tears blurred her vision, memorizing every detail on his face, his hands, trying to convince herself that he was real. He hadn't left her in the mountains. Thank God, he hadn't left her. As he'd promised, he'd kept his word and come back for her.
Her mouth was so dry she couldn't stand it. She needed water fast. "Stoney," she rasped in a voice just loud enough to cause him to stir. And it was a good thing he did because she didn't know if she had the energy to do it again.
His chin was propped up by his balled fist and his body was curled against the arms of the chair uncomfortably. He stirred in the chair until his behind slipped off the seat and he slid to the floor, waking him completely.
Yawning, Stoney rubbed his face. She noticed the growth of beard darkening his face. His face was ragged, and he seemed older than he looked yesterday. Wait, no it wasn't yesterday that they snuggled together, making love in their sleeping bags. It seemed so long ago, though she wasn't sure how long. Two days, she recalled him saying at some point. They were two days away from getting help. How long had she been like this?
Abruptly, he turned to her, his eyes filling with light as he noticed for the first time she was awake. He was at her side in an instant, touching her face, feathering his fingers across her cheek as if the very sight of her was his only link to life itself. He spoke on a sigh of relief. "You're back."
Melanie swallowed. Her mouth was cotton dry, preventing her from speaking. She gave it another try and mouthed the word "water", but instantly got frustrated with her lack of progress.
"That's my Sunshine. You get as ticked as your little heart desires. Try again. What do you need? You need Joshua?"
She grabbed his shirt to stop him from leaving her side and motioned to the water jug on the tray table.
"You're thirsty? You want a drink?"
She nodded wearily, slumped her heavy head back on the pillow and waited until he pressed the paper cup to her lips. No doubt she'd been on fluids since she'd arrived at the clinic, but she felt the cool liquid seep right through her parched tongue.
"How long?" she managed to get out.
"We got here yesterday. You've been...sleeping. You need to get some rest."
"My head. Oh, it hurts, Stoney."
Stoney's chest tightened, from relief, from the love he felt for Melanie. She looked so frail, it was killing him. "Hold on, I'm running for Joshua."
"No, don't go. I need you here."
He wiped the tear than trickled down her pale cheeks. "Okay, I'm here. I'm right here."
"I've been such a fool," she mumbled, swallowing a sob.
He should have told her she was right. She'd been a damn fool not to warn him about her medical condition. It nearly cost her her life. He shuddered inside just thinking about the seizure she'd had as the helicopter landed. Thank God they'd been at the clinic when it happened. He couldn't think of what he'd do if he lost her. But this wasn't a time for I-told-you-so's. He wasn't about to kick her down now that she couldn't fight back.
"All this time I've been thinking it was them, but it wasn't." She tried to roll over, away from him, but the IV kept her back.
"Hold on, Melanie," he said softly. He eased himself down on the bed and pulled off his cowboy hat, tossing it to the table. He gently gripped her arms and pulled her closer, trying to give her a shred of comfort, being careful not to yank on her tubes.
"What are you talking about, Sunshine?"
"It was never them."
Was she still delirious? She was talking in riddles. "Who? Who are you talking about?"
"My parents." She started to sob softly. "All this time I've been thinking they were the enemy. I've been so angry at them for trying to control my life. I couldn't see that it was my body that was letting me down."
"No. Don't talk like that. You're strong. You're feistier than the maddest bull I've ever ridden." He chuckled, but his tension remained. She was hurt and scared, and so was he. He'd almost lost her. "A lot of people would have died out there, but you held on."
"You didn't call my father, did you?"
Guilt stabbed at him. He hadn't even thought of it. "I wanted to make sure you were okay first. I'll call as soon-"
"No, don't. Please, Stoney, don't do it." Her eyes were pleading with him.
"I have to. If I don't call him, he'll call the ranch."
"You don't have to tell him what happened."
"I can't ask my folks to lie."
"I don't want them to. I didn't tell them where I was going." She swallowed back some sobs. "They'll make me come home."
"No one is going to make you do anything you-"
"You don't know them!" She tried to sit up, pulling at her IV again, but he kept her back. "They'll come."
"They're going to worry."
"They won't listen to me. You don't know what it's like." She was crying uncontrollably now, her body shaking with each sob.
"They love you," he said softly. And he knew he did, too. If it was him, he'd want to know. Damn, he wished he had known, but she kept her diabetes from him. The whole agonizing ride back to the reservation he'd envisioned her dying in his arms. The pain of it still burned in his chest now.
"You don't understand. Unless you've lived my life you couldn't. It's like walking a fine line between love and abuse. I know they love me, but they keep me locked up until I feel so suffocated. I know they're afraid. Maybe more so because I never was. I thought I could beat diabetes, but it won and I lost. I can't go back to living that way, Stoney. I just can't."
She was breathing hard and he knew her tirade had taken its toll.
"We don't have to talk about this now," he insisted. "Later...when you're feeling better."
She dragged in a deep breath and squeezed his hand.
Closing his eyes, he leaned forward and kissed her head, breathing in her scent, trying to memorize the feel of her silky skin against his lips. "Get some rest. I'm just going to find Joshua." He kissed her again and with great strength, forced himself from her side.
Closing the door behind him, he heard the sounds of voices in the waiting room. Of children crying and mothers trying their best to soothe them. Stoney pulled at the ache in his back from sleeping on the chair and heard his boots echo in the hallway as he walked. He found Joshua at the end of the hall outside an examining room talking to Ivan Collins, the Ranger who piloted the water plane he'd been able to radio.
Joshua Lightfoot was not only his cousin, but Stoney had considered him his best friend. The years they'd spent together in their youth had forged a bond that nothing could shake. At times, it was if they read each others minds. Although both men stood eye to eye and had the same dark hair and eyes, Joshua's Arapaho heritage was prominent in his features. "You look like hell," Joshua said, slapping Stoney on the back.
"I feel just as good, thank you," Stoney told his cousin.
"I take it Melanie is awake."
"Thank God."
"Good, I'll go examine her in a minute. I know you want to hang out here, but I'm going to keep her another day or two."
"I want to stay," he said quickly.
Joshua nodded. "I can pull a cot in from the back room for you to sleep on tonight."
"I appreciate that."
Stoney forced his hand through his disheveled hair and turned to Ivan Collins.
"I owe you."
The Ranger waved him off, then shook Stoney's hand. "All in a day's work. Lucky for you I was out doing an aerial scan of that ridge. I'm glad she's doing okay now. Whatever possessed her to go that deep into the mountains without her insulin?"
"She had her medicine. Her mount got spooked by a clap of thunder and shot off. Somehow the saddlebag with her insulin got lost. We weren't able to find it." He left out the part about not knowing Melanie was diabetic and absorbed Joshua's questioning stare. "She wanted to see some of the wildlife in their nature surroundings. She's a zoologist."
Ivan's blond, bushy eyebrows lifted. "A zoologist, huh? Now that's interesting. Where does she do her work?"
Stoney sobered, his jaw squared. What was he implying? Melanie had just gone to hell and back and he was thinking of sending her back out there. "She's fixin' to go to Africa to do some research for a few years."
"Hmm, then that's our loss. We're always looking for a good naturalist to work with the Park Services. The pay's not great, but you can't beat the view."
"That's for sure," Joshua said lightly. Stoney caught his cousin's stare and knew what was on his mind.
The Ranger pushed his hat on his head. "Mention it to her, if you will. Just in case she decides Africa is too far for her liking. Have her give me a call when she's feeling up to it and we'll talk." He strode down the hall, his footsteps echoing on the tile floor. Stoney and Joshua were left with an eerie silence.
"You can't keep her locked up because of her illness, man," Joshua said after a moment.
"Who said anything about locking her up. Like I said, she has plans," Stoney countered, not meeting his gaze.
"What makes you think she's going to want to leave Wyoming now?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Joshua leaned against the wall. "You're in love with her. That much I saw the second you walked in yesterday, and you haven't left her side until just now."
"She has big plans that don't include me," Stoney said.
"They could if you'd just ask. Maybe that's what brought her here?"
Stoney didn't say anything. How could Joshua understand? He'd always known what he wanted and it was right here on the reservation.
"I've got to go," Joshua said, motioning to the waiting room. "The house is packed and I've got vaccines to administer by noon."
Stoney shook Joshua's hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "Thanks, man."
Joshua nodded. "I'll be in to check on Melanie as soon as I'm finished here."
Stoney turned and walked back to Melanie's room. His stomach burned with the memory of her words. I know they love me, but they keep me locked up until I feel so suffocated. Sending her out into the kind of life she wanted almost killed her. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, the thought of locking her up to keep her safe was somehow more comforting than letting her follow her dreams.
Telling her about Ivan Collins could keep her here in Wyoming. The thought of having her in his life and in his arms was incredible. But how could he send her out into the wilderness again, not knowing if she'd come home to him?
# # #
Two days in the clinic had Melanie ready to break out. Joshua had insisted that although he was a healer of the body, she needed a blessing by the tribal spiritual healer. But with or without the blessing, Melanie insisted she was leaving. Knowing the woman as he did, Stoney gently advised Joshua that as long as there was no risk to her physically, he'd better release her. For all concerned parties.
Stoney had promised he wouldn't make the call to Melanie's father and to his great relief, no phone calls had come in at the ranch. That left them with where to go next. They hadn't talked about the future while they were trailing in the mountains. Melanie hadn't been in much of a mood to talk during her stay in the clinic, either.
She'd needed to prove to herself that she could live the kind of life she'd always dreamed of, despite her diabetes or any deal she'd made with her father. By not fulfilling what she'd set out to do, in her mind, she'd failed.
But not in Stoney's eyes. He'd vowed not to give her any special treatment in the beginning because she insisted she could hold her own. He'd seen the fear in her eyes each time she was clearly out of her element. The lightning storm that passed over their heads, wading into the river and almost drowning would have rattled the most experienced trailer. She was harder on herself than he could ever be. And she had a determination and fire that he could only admire. She hadn't failed at all.
But what he believed of her didn't count. Not this time.
The ride back to Black Rock was made in virtual silence. Melanie curled herself into the front seat of Stoney's late model pickup truck, staring out at the white capped mountain range they'd been lost in just a few days ago, watching as it whisked past them.
"You can stay at the ranch as long as you like," he finally said, reaching out to take her hand.
She turned her head and gave him a weak smile. "That's kind of you."
He wondered what she was thinking. Somehow, he didn't think he really wanted to know. He guessed that whatever was spinning circles in her head was going to bring her farther away from Wyoming. Away from him.
But what was he thinking? Melanie was a woman with big dreams, and money to make them all come true. Did he really think that she'd hang around now that her reason for coming to Wyoming was gone?
No. Even if she didn't go to Kenya, she'd go back to Long Island, back to the life she'd led with the social circle. He was a simple man, a cowboy with simple values. What could hard living on a ranch that had a shaky future possibly give her that could compare to the exciting life she'd led before she walked into his life?
He thought of Ivan Collins and his mention of a job with Park Services. As much as Stoney knew that telling Melanie about the job was what he should do, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bear the idea of her going back out into the mountains. This time without him.
He felt a sense of calm wash over him as he pulled his pickup onto the dirt road leading to Black Rock. He'd had his days on the road going from rodeo to rodeo. But in the last year, he realized just how much this place meant to him. It was his home, where he belonged.
Adele sprang out of the side door when she saw them pull up. Stoney got out of the pickup first and waited by the side of the truck for Melanie. Her mood immediately lifted when she saw Adele.
Adele pulled Stoney into her arms. "I'm so glad you're home." Turning to Melanie, she reached out and gave her a hug. "How are you feeling, honey? I've been so worried."
"Better, thank you." Melanie felt the weight of tears behind her eyelids. There was so much love and concern for each other here. It wasn't that she didn't have that back in Long Island. She knew her parents' love for her ran as deep as the earth was wide. But unlike with her family, Melanie didn't feel the same controlling attitude at Black Rock. Only pure love and concern.
She turned to the sound of horses' hooves in the distance. Mitch was at the stable, leaning down from his mount and talking to Wally, who sat in his wheelchair craning his neck to look at Mitch. On the other side of the stable, she saw Thunder, Chester and Dolly in the corral. Stoney hadn't told her much of what had happened once they'd made it to the reservation. She hadn't thought about how the horses got back to the ranch and now that she saw them dancing circles around the paddock, she was happy they were safe.
"Why don't you come inside and rest a while. I'm sure you're tired from the ride."
Melanie managed a smile for Adele sake. "My backside is numb from sitting in that hospital bed these last two days. If you don't mind, I'm just going to check on Dolly."
Turning away, she felt Stoney's worried eyes on her back as she dug her boots into the gravel leading to the corral. As she drew closer, Dolly spotted her and pranced over to the side of the fence. "No apple chips for you today I'm afraid." She gripped the dry wood rail with one hand and reached up to stroked the mare's coat with the other. "How are you doing, girl?" she murmured.
As if answering, Dolly bobbed her head up and down, and stomped her front hoof into the ground.
"She's doing just fine." Stoney brushed his hand on her back. She closed her eyes, taking his comfort. "How about you? Are you okay with all of this?"
The last thing she wanted was for Stoney to feel sorry for her. She wasn't exactly sure what she was going to do now. Maybe she'd take him up on his offer and stay a few days at the ranch to clear her head before returning to Long Island to face her father. But she couldn't bear to see the pity on Stoney's face. She'd given it her best, and she'd failed. Her body failed. Now she had to pick herself up and figure out which direction to turn next.
"I'll be okay. I just need a few days to regroup."
He drew her into the circle of his arms and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Stay here at Black Rock. With me," he said softly. He was warm and hard, and in his strong arms Melanie felt safe. All the craziness of her life didn't seem to matter as much when Stoney held her like this.
"I have to face my father at some point."
"I know."
She smiled up at him. She didn't want to think of going back to Long Island just yet. She just wanted to feel this way, the way she felt in Stoney's arms.
She rested her cheek against his iron chest. "The horses. How did they get home?"
"The Park Rangers rode them back to the ranger station. Mitch drove the trailer out and picked them up there this morning."
"I'm glad they're okay. I would have hated it if anything had happened to them."
"Mitch is taking a ride out in a bit. I'm going to go with him to check on things."
She'd given her opinion about the ranch. Now it was Stoney's decision to do what he thought was best. She didn't intend to say anything again, but she found herself going against her better judgment.
"It might be a good time to talk to him about the ranch. It might help," she said.
He hesitated a second. "I don't know. I've got a dust my hat off and do some thinking before I can commit to something like selling part of the ranch. Right now I'm going to get on my horse and take a ride."
That's what she needed to do, too, Melanie realized. She'd just taken one hell of a spill out in the wilderness and scraped herself up more than she ever had. That didn't mean she was a failure. Like Stoney, Melanie had to find a way pick herself up with all she had, get back on that horse and ride again.
"I think I'll join you."
\*
Ranch business didn't waste any time encroaching on Stoney's homecoming. He sifted through the mail and found they'd received a letter from the bank while he'd been away, stating the loan request was denied. To make matters worse, Black Rock was to be put up for auction at the first of the month if the hospital didn't get their money. That alone should have been enough to keep Stoney's mind occupied, but to his dismay, the only thing he could think of was Melanie and how much time they had left together. He'd asked her to stay, but she never gave him a definite answer.
Melanie. He'd first taken her suggestion to ask Mitch for help lightly. As much as he respected Mitch, he couldn't think of Black Rock being owned by anyone without Buxton blood.
But Melanie was right. He didn't have a choice anymore. He'd been to a dozen banks in the last two months only to be told the same thing. The amount of money they could qualify for to make the necessary repairs wasn't going to be enough to bail them out with the hospital bills still pouring in. Now hospital collection had threatened to take the ranch to auction. With more than a few developers chomping at the bit for a chance at prime Wyoming Real Estate, they didn't have a chance of winning a bidding war, no matter who helped them out.
Before he turned in, Stoney gathered his pride enough to talk to Mitch about Melanie's suggestion for him to buy into Black Rock. He wasn't surprised that Mitch jumped at the offer. Now all they had to do was convince Wally to buy into the idea, and figure out how to make the deal work to their advantage.
He'd held off as long as he could. Pride be damned, but he had to call Delia to see if there was some way Paul could rework the numbers so that, with Mitch's partnership, they could save Black Rock. Maybe Paul could work some magic and a miracle.
He waited until the next day to call Delia, making certain his Dad was busy with Mitch. There'd be hellfire to pay when Wally Buxton found out what Stoney had planned, but he'd deal with that when the time came. He wasn't surprised when Delia bawled him out for waiting so long to make the call.
"I can't believe you've kept this from me this long. If you were in trouble, why didn't you come to me from the start?" she said.
Stoney could almost picture his sister scowling as she tapped her fingers on the jade and cream marble table she kept by the telephone.
"You know how it is, Dee."
"Yeah, it's that stupid cowboy pride you men are famous for. Just because Paul disagreed with you on the ranch's expansion, doesn't mean he felt smug about it when things went to pot. You're my family. Did you think he wouldn't try to help?"
Paul took good care of Delia and their infant son, Brandon. Although they were far from wealthy themselves, Paul made a good living as a financial advisor so that Delia and Brandon wanted for nothing. He was a good business man. He'd been wrong not to listen to Paul's advice to begin with and left the ranch wide open for failure by going his own route. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
"It's not that." He knew it was useless. Delia was dead center on the bull's eye. Damned cowboy pride. And he alone had enough of it for all the cowboys stretching across Wyoming. "Look, I've got an idea that might help save us. I just want to make sure we do it right this time. Maybe Paul can think of some way to maximize the deal and put us up front again."
He heard her heavy breath carry over the phone line. "I sure hope so, Stoney. I don't know how much more Mom and Pop can take."
He didn't respond and wondered if deep down Delia blamed him for the state Black Rock was in now.
"I'll have him call you," she finally said.
"No. I haven't talked to Pop about it yet."
"When were you planning on telling him? When we're on your doorstep? He's going to find out some time."
"Just tell Paul I'll call him with the details. I'll deal with Pop."
"Well, do it soon because I don't want to be around to hear that famous Buxton temper. I see it enough every day in my son." Her heavy sigh carried through the phone line. "We'll be by bright and early Sunday morning after church. Tell Mom I'll bring some peach cobbler."
"Okay. And Dee?"
"Yeah?"
He swallowed hard. Pride was a hard lump going down your throat. "Tell Paul I appreciate it."
He hung up the phone feeling like more of a failure than he had before he called. He leaned the kitchen chair he was sitting in back on two legs and rubbed his face with his hand. He heard a car driving up and pushed the lace curtain back to see his truck pulling into the driveway. Melanie had mentioned having some errands and asked to borrow the truck that morning. Something about seeing her climb out of the driver's seat of his truck made Stoney feel that this was where she belonged. On this ranch and in his life forever. How long would he be able to enjoy having her here with him?
His gaze was drawn to her through the open window as she dropped the tailgate of the truck and awkwardly hoisted up a saddle from the bed.
"Now what'd she go and do?" he said, already spinning through the kitchen door.
\*
"You've been gone practically all day," Stoney said, relieving Melanie of the heavy saddle with little effort. "We've got enough saddles. What did you need this one for?"
She couldn't keep the smile from spreading across her cheeks. She'd spent most of the morning with the cobbler and she couldn't wait to see if her plan would work.
"It's a surprise."
Stoney quirked an eyebrow.
"Not for you, for your father," she said, pulling him by the hand. "Where is he? I can't wait to show it to him."
Stoney silently inspected the newly sewn leather straps Melanie had customized the saddle with and threw her a suspicious glance that turned slightly weary. His voice echoed what his expression had already told her.
"At the feed store with Mitch."
"That gives me some time to test it out."
"What are you-"
"Give it a chance before you go off on me about how I should have talk to you first."
Stoney dropped the saddle on a patch of grass just outside the corral. Melanie climbed between the rails before turning back to him, excitement whirling inside her.
"It's going to be great. You'll see."
By the time Mitch and Wally came rolling into the driveway, Melanie was finished demonstating the possibilities the new saddle could give Wally. Stoney had already sawn off the railing on the highest point of the porch to allow Wally's wheelchair to roll up to the opening and enable Stoney to help Wally mount his horse.
Wally looked at their project with as skeptical an eye as she'd seen in Stoney. For a few agonizingly long minutes under his scrutiny, Melanie doubted the wisdom of her grand plan.
"How's it doing to keep me from falling off?
"Why don't you give him a show, Melanie?" Stoney said. At least she'd managed to win him over during the last half hour. She'd seen him go from downright cynicism to anticipation. No one wanted his dad to ride again more than Stoney.
Melanie lifted her leg over the saddle and waited as Stoney quickly buckled all the newly added straps around her legs and thighs.
"I noticed that you still have good upper body strength and you sit well in the chair without support," she said. Wally rewarded her compliment with a deep dimpled smile.
"The straps will keep your legs secured to he side of your horse and give you enough stability to sit upright."
"How am I going to kick his ribs if I can't control my feet?"
Melanie could see the same glint of cautious excitement in Wally as she'd seen in Stoney when he finally bought into the idea of riding with the modified saddle. Her own heart beat faster with the thrill of what was to come.
"This strap here will allow you to pull the stirrup out," Melanie said as she demonstrated. "When you let go of the strap go, your heel a nudge into your mounts ribs and...you're riding."
All eyes were glued to Wally, who sat perched in his wheelchair, nervously rubbing his jowls with his fingers as he watched Melanie ride.
There wasn't one person among them who wasn't holding their breath. Melanie walked Thunder around in a circle, guiding the horse back to the edge of the porch.
"So, what do you say, Pop?" Stoney said, unbuckling the straps with Melanie.
Adele stood beside Wally, patting his shoulder, her expression unreadable. "And if he loses his balance? Is he going to hurt himself more?"
"I imagine it wouldn't do any more harm than anyone else falling from the saddle," Mitch said.
Wally heaved a long sigh and peered up at Adele, taking her by the hand. Hope shined in their eyes as they gazed at each other with love and warmth.
Wally's lips curled up into a smile. "Let's see if there's something still left in the old man."
The air around them broke into giddy excitement, like they were all about to ride the roller coaster at a theme park. When Wally took his first ride on the horse in more than a year, there wasn't a dry eye among them.
Adele stood beside Melanie, watching as Wally rode thunder around the paddock with Stoney and Mitch to either side, just in case he ran into trouble. She let her tears spill freely, laughing and crying at the same time.
She took Melanie by the hand. "Thank you for this."
Tightness squeezed Melanie's chest. She knew she'd been the one to bring it about, but still felt blessed to share the joy with Stoney's family. They didn't have money and may face losing everything they had, but they had the one thing money couldn't buy. They had a deep love for one another that Melanie had never known.
She knew her parents loved her, but their fear of diabetes had always kept them from allowing her to be what she could. They didn't allow their fear to hold them back the way her parents had. Somehow, Melanie knew Stoney and his family were richer than she'd ever been in her life.
Stoney stole a glance in her direction. He'd been afraid she'd get into trouble while they were out in the mountains, but he'd given her the freedom to make her own mistakes. That wasn't the only thing that made her love Stoney. It was just part of who he was.
"It's been a long time since I've seen him this happy," Adele said, breaking into her thoughts of Stoney.
But Melanie didn't mind. She'd never seen Stoney this happy before. And if she'd been responsible for giving him an ounce of what he'd given her, then that was enough. At the same time, she couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them. Would they some day have a love that rivaled what Adele and Wally had?
Melanie wanted that more than anything. But would Stoney?
"Look at him, Stoney, you're daddy sitting so tall in that saddle," Adele was saying. "You look just as handsome as the day I met you thirty years ago at the Frontier Days Rodeo."
Wally's pride was evident. It was if he'd come alive again. "If y'all don't mind, I think I'll take my best girl for a ride."
Adele laughed, her face beaming with laugh lines that transformed her whole expression. "The pleasure is all mine, cowboy."
\*
It was nearly midnight when Melanie heard the faint knock on her bedroom door. Within seconds, Stoney was inside her room, coming toward the bed. She noticed his quiet step was due to him having taken off his boots.
"What are you doing in here at this time of the night?" Melanie lifted the blanket up to her chin in a futile attempt to hide from Stoney.
He ignored her by sitting on the bed next to her and pulling at the blanket teasingly. "I should think it's obvious."
She threw a plump, feathered pillow at him. "With your parents just down the hall? What will your mother think of me?" She giggled as he nuzzled the soft flesh beneath her ear. The warm, musky scent of his skin immediately triggered sweet memories of their love making in the mountains.
"Could we please not talk about my mother right now? In fact, let's not talk at all." He waggled his eyebrows and pulled her into the circle of his arms, pressing his mouth over hers. He kissed her sweetly, not like the hard passionate kisses they'd share before. But it was just as wonderful as the rest.
"If I didn't say it before, thanks," he said.
Melanie snuggled deeper into his arms. "For what?"
"For everything. It's been a long time since I've seen my folks this happy."
"I have to admit I was in a panic. I didn't think Wally was ever going to get in that saddle."
Stoney chuckled softly. "There's going to be no keeping him out of it now. That's for sure."
"I'm glad for him."
"I took your suggestion and talked to Mitch."
She sat up and looked at him, startled. "About buying the ranch?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. Well, buying a share of it."
"He's open to the idea?"
Stoney turned to his side and propped his head up with his hand. He fiddled with Melanie's long brown curls hanging over her chest. "I think it's going to work out."
Melanie couldn't help but smile. "This calls for a celebration."
He kissed her soundly. "That's what I'm doing here, Sunshine."
"No, I mean a real celebration."
He rolled over on her, covering her body completely. She could feel his hard arousal pressing against her thigh as his tongue traced her lips. "Tomorrow. After the rodeo. There'll be plenty of time for celebrating then. Right now, I think a private celebration is in order."
Stoney stayed, making love with her into the night, holding her until the early morning. Melanie wondered how life could ever be anything better that how it was right then. He'd asked her to stay with him at Black Rock. But he never once told her he loved her. Without love, what did their future hold? As wonderful as today had been, tomorow seemed so uncertain.
\*
Stoney finished his early chores of feeding the horses and cleaning the stalls before he had to get ready for the Frontier Days Rodeo. Even with this deal with Mitch pending, any money he could pull in for the ranch was going to be a big help. He had his sights set high for a first place win today.
Melanie was in the kitchen helping his mother with some baking when he heard the phone ring. He went about his business of getting ready for the rodeo as he listened to her talking on the phone, wondering if she'd finally decided to call her folks and tell them what happened. A minute later, he heard footsteps in the hallway coming toward the dining room.
Melanie stood straight and hard as nails. Her arms were knotted across her chest, and she was breathing heavy, just glaring at him. Stoney knew he was in trouble for something, he just couldn't figure out what.
He continued loading his spurs and chaps in his duffel bag, pulling away from her stare. "What's on your mind, Sunshine?"
"I just got a very interesting phone call," she said hotly.
"You parents?"
"Ivan Collins." Her voice was low, he noticed, but had an edge that belied her control.
Damn, Stoney swore silently. He'd hoped he didn't have to deal with this now. Not before a rodeo. He knew that Ivan Collins would call eventually. He just didn't think it would be this soon.
His stomach churned, but he tried to act aloof. "Really?"
"Cut the crap, Stoney. Why didn't you tell me about Ivan's offer to work with the Park Services?"
"You said you wanted to go to Kenya. I didn't think there was a point."
She sucked in a breath that caused him to look up at her. Her full lips trembled slightly, he noticed, even though she tried to keep her control. "Is that what you want me to do?"
"It matters more what you want."
She stood silent, her eyes drawn and filled with moisture. It was if he'd just slapped her.
He hated to see her sad. More than anything he wanted to hold her and tell her he wanted her to stay, that he wanted her here with him, in his arms, in his bed for the rest of his life. He didn't want her taking chances with her life. But that wasn't the way it was going to be, and they both knew it.
He forced air past the lump in his throat. "You keep telling me you want your life back. You have big dreams that...I can't understand. But no one should keep you from going to Africa if that's what you want."
"You know what's going to happen as soon as my father finds out-" She stopped short and stared blankly at him as if she were processing the series of events leading up to that moment. She lifted her hands and slowly brushed her dark hair away from her face with great control. "That's what you want, too, isn't it?"
"They're your dreams, Sunshine. Not mine. You should have the chance if you want is all I'm saying."
She sniffed back a sob and advanced toward him. For a moment, he thought she might be angry enough to strike him, and he had the gut reaction to take a step backwards. But Melanie held her hands stiffly by her side. She was too civilized for the kind of physical thrashing he'd seen at cowboy bars. Instead she leaned forward and placed her flat palms on the dining room table, glaring at him. "Liar. It's a whole line of crap, Stoney. You're trying to keep me safe." She drew in a deep breath, her anger mounting. "You know my father will keep me from going to Kenya. He has the money to do it."
And he had nothing, Stoney said silently to himself. Nothing but a broken down ranch in need of a hell of a lot of hard work to keep it going.
She was right, and what killed him the most was the coward he was being by not facing the truth himself. He knew if he'd told her about the offer with the Park Services, she would have considered staying in Wyoming. But he couldn't keep her safe, and he had nothing else but his love to offer her to keep her in his arms. That wasn't enough. She deserved much more than he could ever give her.
"I've got a rodeo to get to," he finally said.
She laughed wryly. "So that's it? End of discussion. You've got a rodeo to go to so why not take the easy way out."
Every muscle in his face tightened. He drew in a deep breath and lifted his head to look at her. He gasped softly when he was met by her shattered expression. Damn, he wanted to hold her. He wanted to tell her how much he loved and needed her in his life. Always. He wanted to drink in her heavenly scent and roll with her through the night, making sweet love under the stars like they had in the mountains. He wanted to hold her until the sun rose over the hills every morning. And he wanted his sweet Sunshine to have and to hold. But he had his pride. A man had to provide for a woman, even if she had her own interests. And he needed to keep her safe. If she stayed in Wyoming with him, in his arms, he couldn't do either.
"You think it was easy for me watching you go through hell and back out there in the mountains? You think it'll be easy the next time you go out not knowing if you'll be coming back to my arms?"
She let out a quick breath, her shoulders sagging. "I can't live in a bubble, Stoney."
"I'm not asking you to."
"Yes, you are. You want to keep me locked up just because you're afraid. I can't live like that. Nobody can."
"Okay, maybe I am. But I don't want to think about it every time you walk out the door. I never want to feel that helpless, not knowing if you're slipping away from me again. I can't live like that, wondering if you're hurt or dying or-"
She pushed at the duffel bag holding all his gear for the rodeo. "How is this different? You can stand here and tell me you don't want me to take chances, but your own mother is a wreck about you going off to this rodeo today."
He forced his fingers through his thick hair. "She's always been like this. It'll be okay."
"How do you know? You've been hurt before. How can you be so certain some bull isn't going stomp all over you and you won't be the one coming home? How do you think that makes me feel?"
He reached out and tried to take her in his arms, but she flinched. As hard as it was, as much as he wanted to comfort her, he let her go. "I promise you. Nothing is going to happen to me."
She stared at him in disbelief. "You can't make that promise."
He knew she was right. He was being pigheaded and male and prideful. But dammit, he loved her. And he'd be damned if he was going to help her put herself in harm's way again.
"Can't we just talk about this later? I have to go," he said softly. "Are you coming with me?"
He saw her full lips tremble, but her eyes were dry. "No," she said, turning away from him toward the stairway. She gripped the railing and lifted one foot to the stair tread before she turned back and looked at him. The determined fire in her eyes said it all. "I'm not going anywhere if I stay here."
# # #
Stoney returned from the rodeo ready to celebrate his win only to find that Melanie had packed her things and left Black Rock. He'd asked her to stay with him in Wyoming. She hadn't given him any definite answer. Apparently, she'd made up her mind.
He gave no explanation to his mother about Melanie's sudden departure. Since his foul mood had gotten the best of him, Adele didn't press the issue. He was grateful for that.
The business of saving Black Rock took over most of his time, not giving him much more than the quiet hours of the night to think about how much he missed Melanie. They had to move quickly now.
As Stoney had anticipated, Wally Buxton was madder than a bull dog whose bone was snatch from under his nose when he found out Stoney had approached Mitch about buying into Black Rock. It had taken a little persuasion, but in the end, his father agreed that it was the only way to save the ranch, and calmed enough by the time the men moiled through the paperwork. With a little more capital, they'd be able to get the loan. As hard as it was to give up a piece of the ranch, selling off an interest to Mitch would save their home and livelihood. When everyone finally emerged from the dining room, there had been plenty of hand shakes and smiles. They'd found their miracle in the final hour.
Stoney only wished he could find a miracle to help him with Melanie.
Stoney strode into the kitchen, where he found his sister Delia crouched down, holding her young son Brandon by his chubby fingers. Brandon stood on shaky legs and proceeded to pull away from his mother's guiding hands. Stoney watched his nephew struggle with two steps, then rushed to place a hand under the baby's little rump.
"Should he be doing this already?" he asked Delia, worriedly. "I mean, he's not even a year old yet."
Delia chuckled, pushing back a crop of thick dark hair that matched Stoney's. "At this age, he's going to do what he wants, and there's no stopping him. Just let him go, and see how he does."
Tentatively, Stoney let the baby go, but he held his wide hand behind the toddler's rump just in case he fell backward. Within seconds his nerves had him picking up Brandon and cradling him in his arms. "Geez, Delia. He's just a baby. He's gonna fall and hurt himself."
Delia eyed him with a mock scowl. "Look, I'm not thrilled at the idea of this little bucket of trouble getting into everything and causing me more work, either. But it's not like I have a choice in the matter." She took Brandon from Stoney and put him down until his bare feet touched the linoleum floor. As expected, Brandon wasted no time going back to his original task of walking. But as soon as he let go of Delia's fingers, he wobbled and fell on his diapered behind. Tears immediately sprang in his eyes.
"See? He's not ready to walk yet," Stoney said, picking up the sobbing baby and handing him over to Delia.
"Try telling him that," she said, jostling the baby up and down until his crying subsided. "I can't coddle him or he'll never know what he can do on his own. If I have to hold my breath with my heart in my throat, then so be it."
Stoney rumpled Brandon's wisps of hair. It was amazing. Even with the crocodile tears staining his chubby cheeks, he was already itching to get out of his mother's arms and back to the floor.
"And what if he hurts himself?"
Delia touched Stoney's arm and said softly, "Then I pick him up and love him and let him go at it again."
Stoney slumped against the doorjamb, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't know if I could do that."
"Sure you can. You'd have to, Stoney. You of all people should know you can't keep a wild spirit tame."
He threw his sister a wry grin. "I'm talking about my nephew."
"So am I. You've been riding anything that dared to buck you off since you were able to run across the barnyard, driving Mom and Pop insane in the process. This little one is going to do what he wants regardless if anyone thinks different. You can't hold him back or his little spirit will wither up and die."
Stoney stared after Brandon as he held on to the wall and inched his way over the marble threshold from the kitchen to the dining room. There was no stopping the baby from getting what he wanted. It reminded him of Melanie in a way. Pushing herself, kicking up a fit when all he wanted to do was keep her from getting herself into trouble.
Regret suddenly filled him. Is that what he'd done? Had he tried to kill Melanie's spirit by keeping her from her dreams? That's what she'd been fighting her whole life since she'd been diagnosed with diabetes. He had his fears, but he had no right letting them kill her ambition.
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. He was such a hypocrite. It took the wisdom and determination of a baby to open his eyes to the fool he'd been.
And he missed Melanie more than he ever dreamed he would. How was he going to fix the mess he made this time?
\*
Edmond T. Summers III sat in his leather easy chair and took a long drag from his expensive cigar. "I spoke with Leonard Lawrence this afternoon. The team is leaving for Kenya on Friday."
Melanie sat on the soft leather chair opposite her father with one long leg crossed over the other. "Thank you for continuing your support. It means a lot to me that all their work won't be a waste."
"Only you wish you were going with them," her father said, taking another puff of the cigar he held tightly between his thumb and index finger.
She sighed. If she'd never gone to Wyoming, if she'd never known what love could be in the arms of a man like Stoney Buxton, then yes, she'd be wishing she was boarding that plane to Africa with the rest of her colleagues. There was a time she'd wanted it so much she could taste it.
She'd always been so focused. Kenya had been her goal. She'd had big dreams and hopes for the future that didn't include cowboys, and ranches, or the Wyoming wilderness. But in Stoney's arms, all those dreams seemed small, just like she'd felt swimming in the hot spring under the stars that night. Africa was just another continent. Her big dreams had somehow faded. The only thing she longed for now was to feel Stoney's arms wrapped around her, feel him nuzzle her neck.
She couldn't erase all that had happened to her. She couldn't forget the dark-eyed gaze that turned her mind to mush, and Stoney's slow, sexy grin when he teased her. No matter how things had ended for them, she didn't regret loving Stoney. It had changed her in a way she never imagined it could.
Stoney had believed in her and allowed her to flourish. He didn't coddle her when it came to pulling her weight. He trusted her to make her way across the river after the rain storm, even though her own fear forged forward, and she doubted herself. He believed in her like no one else had ever believed in her before.
That is, until he found out about her diabetes. Then he became like everyone else in her life. She could learn to pitch a tent, and cross the river, or anything else she set her mind to. The one thing she couldn't do was make her diabetes go away. She'd live with that for the rest of her life. And living with it, Stoney would always fear for her safety, just like her parents had her whole life.
"Actually, Dad, I'm thinking of going to the Florida Keys," she finally said.
Her father's face perked up, and he pulled the cigar from his lips. "I think that's a fine idea. A little vacation down at the Keys may be good for you after the ordeal you've been through. If you don't mind, I think your mother and I may just join you."
She drew in a slow breath. She'd fought too many battles over the years and regretted the one that was about to come. "I'd love for you to visit me in Florida."
Edmond's bushy white eyebrows narrowed. "What do you mean visit? You sound as if you're planning to live there."
"I hope to. I've applied for a position as a naturalist in the Everglades."
Edmond T. Hammond sat up straight and dropped his cigar in the brass ashtray on the mahogany end table next to his chair. "We've been all through this. Haven't you learned your lesson after this Wyoming wilderness fiasco?"
"Yes, I have." She stood up, as she always did when she was trying to stand her ground.
"You almost got yourself killed."
"You're right."
"Your medical condition is so delicate-"
"Look, Dad, I made a lot of mistakes in Wyoming. The biggest mistake was not telling Stoney about my diabetes right from the start. I won't be making that mistake again. But I've learned a lot and I know what I'm capable of now. I can do this job."
She drew in a deep breath for strength, knowing this was the last battle she intended to have on this subject. And it was one she was going to win at all costs. She was surprised at how good it felt.
"I have diabetes. I'll always have diabetes. But that's not all I am. I discovered how incredibly strong I am. I thought I needed to prove that to you by going to Wyoming, but what I realize is that I needed to prove it to myself, too. And do you know what? I have. I'm not going to be foolish enough to hide my medical condition anymore, but I'm not going to hide behind it, either. I have a lot to give, and a lot to experience, and I'm going to do it. Stoney helped me-"
"You almost died in the hands of that man," Edmond said tightly.
"I almost died because of my stupidity. Stoney saved my life. If I'd told him the truth from the beginning, I never would have been caught without my insulin. I would have made it through the whole month. And then I'd be on that plane to Kenya this Friday with all the others."
Or maybe not, Melanie couldn't help but wonder. If she'd stayed in Wyoming for the full month, would things have been different with her and Stoney? If she had never gotten so sick, would he have had the faith to tell her about Ivan Collins' offer? Would he have told her he loved her?
No, she couldn't think about that anymore. She'd already spent too long crying about how she missed the sound of Stoney's voice, knowing it wouldn't be a part of her life again. Although they'd loved each other passionately, he'd never once told her that he loved her, that he needed her as much as she needed him.
Her father was standing now. His expression was fiercer than she'd ever witnessed before. "When the people at the Park Services hear about your medical condition--"
"They already know, Daddy. I told them everything, including what happened in Wyoming. I'm not going to go through that again. And you know what? They still want me to come down and talk to them about the position. And I'm going. There isn't anything you can do to stop me."
His face was fiery red and unforgiving as he turned away from her. She hated that it had come to this. She only wished that instead of heartache, he could finally be happy for her, for what she strived to achieve.
"I can't live the life you want for me, Daddy."
"You're not going. I forbid it," he thundered, swinging around to face her. He picked up his cigar again, and gripping it tight between his long fingers, he sliced the air. "I'll cut you off. You'll not get one penny of my money to help you kill yourself."
She'd expected as much, but she was prepared for this. Not that her own bank account was filled with the kind of money to keep her living the lifestyle she'd grown up with, but there was enough to get her started somewhere. If not the Everglades, then somewhere else. She was armed with something much more than money could ever buy. She had confidence in herself. And no matter how much it hurt to think of him, she had Stoney to thank for that.
"It's okay, Daddy. I love you and Mom, and I thank you for everything you've given me. But it's time I stood on my own two feet."
He was silent as she turned away from him. She walked to the door, wishing with all her heart that he could accept her for who she was. But that wasn't going to happen. It was going to take time to ease the grip on twenty three years of fear and control. But she'd be there when he came around. With love and wide open arms.
\*
"Daddy's not coming to dinner with us?" Melanie said to her mother, already knowing the answer she was going to receive.
As usually Lorna Summers sidestepped the turbulence that caused the unrest in the Summers' household. She was a natural born diplomat, which had always been an asset to the family business. No one threw a cocktail party like Lorna or cooled a heated money debate with stuffed shirted businessmen as well.
"Something came up at the office," Lorna offered in explanation.
Melanie drew in a long breath and gave her mother a weak smile. "You don't have to cover for him, Mom. I know he's still angry with me. But I thought he'd at least join us for dinner tonight before I have to leave tomorrow."
"Sweetheart, you can't ask him to be what he can't be."
Melanie laughed at the irony. It was so easy for her mother to accept who her father was, but she couldn't seem to accept it in Melanie. She knew her mother didn't understand what was driving Melanie to leave, or what the cause of her sadness had been since she'd returned from Wyoming. Other than inquiring about her health and fussing after her, Lorna had steered all talk away from Stoney.
In the beginning, Melanie was grateful. Every time she'd allow herself to think about Stoney, she'd break down. Lorna wasn't a stupid woman. The bonds of their mother-daughter relationship had always included an unspoken language. She knew how to read her daughter and had simply chosen not to acknowledge that Melanie was suffering from a broken heart.
"As always you look beautiful with your hair swept up like that," Lorna said. "I think that black sequined hand bag is a perfect match for your dress."
"The satin one goes just as well," Melanie said, not really caring if she wore a saddlebag hoisted over her shoulder with the black dress. It was a new style, a dress she'd bought in a funk one afternoon after she'd come home from Wyoming. In a futile attempt to get her mind off Stoney, she turned around and bought the dress with him in mind anyway.
She inspected herself in the mirror. The dress was shorter than she remembered it being in the boutique, giving ample view of her slender thighs. Black stockings concealed the markings on her upper thigh where she gave herself her insulin shots. After wearing hiking boots for so long, her feet looked dainty and out of place in the kind of black heels she'd been used to wearing before she went to Wyoming.
Before she went to Wyoming. Is that what it had come down to? Would everything in her life be gauged by what her life had been like before and after she went to Wyoming? Before she'd fallen in love with Stoney Buxton?
"All the men at the country club are sure to only have eyes for you," Lorna said, chuckling. "Maybe even some of the married ones as well. You know Byron Estabrooks. He thinks he's hiding his eyes beneath those five hundred dollar sunglasses he always wears, but he's not fooling anyone. His head snaps so fast every time a beautiful woman walks by, I'm surprised he hasn't sued the club for whiplash yet."
"I'm not really in the mood for the country club tonight. Why don't we go someplace else more private?" The last thing Melanie wanted to do was put on a fake face and be gracious when it wasn't in her heart.
"Miles Forester will be there tonight."
Melanie rolled her eyes, knowing what her mother was after. It was a conversation they'd had a million times. "Mom, I'm leaving tomorrow and I'm not coming back. I don't want you fixing me up--"
Lorna's smile faded. "Of course you'll be back. This is your home."
Feeling guilty for being so abrupt, Melanie amended, "I mean, I won't be back here to live. Of course I'll be back to visit."
Lorna averted her gaze and was about to say something when they both heard raised voices. It sounded like their butler, Robert, talking to someone down in the foyer. "That doesn't sound like Robert. I wonder what that is all about," Lorna finally said.
"It's probably nothing. I'm almost ready getting dressed," Melanie said. She reached for her purse, but something about that voice caught her attention and made her pause. She left her purse on the bed and advanced toward her bedroom door.
"What is it, Melanie?" she heard her mother say behind her as she rounded the corner leading to the grand stairway.
The voices grew louder, flowing up to the second floor from the foyer below. One angry voice was rough edged, unmistakable, and musical to her ears all at the same time. Stoney was here. He was here! How on earth and why she didn't much care at the moment.
Her movements hastened as she took each step down the stairs with jelly legs. She forced herself to stay calm, not wanting to misunderstand the reason Stoney had come all the way to Long Island. Stopping midway on the stairs, she caught site of Stoney with Robert.
"I just want to talk to her for a minute," Stoney said, the deep timbre of his voice booming off the cold marble floor and fixtures of the grand foyer.
"I'm afraid that isn't possible," Robert said.
"It's okay," Melanie said, looking into Stoney's dark eyes as he lifted his gaze to her.
Her heart was in her throat, and her mouth went cotton dry when their eyes met. Her memory hadn't done justice to him. He slowly took off the white straw cowboy hat that seemed to glow against his tanned skin and dark hair. Unlike the first time she'd seen him, he was cleanly shaven and dressed in what looked to her would be considered his Sunday clothes. And he was absolutely the most wonderful sight a girl could ever hope for. And he was here.
She carefully took each step down the wide staircase, never taking her eyes from his.
"Can I get you anything?" Robert asked when she'd reached the first floor.
Melanie shook her head. When Robert was gone, she turned to Stoney. "I didn't think I'd see you again."
Stoney hesitated for a second, then reached into his pocket and pulled something out. "I came to return your check."
Her heart fell through the floor. What was this all about? "You earned it."
"We only stayed out in the mountains for nine days."
"That was my fault, not yours."
"I'm not going to argue with you about this."
"Good, because I'm not taking the money back. A deal is a deal." She gazed at him for a long while, weighing the silence that echoed in the foyer, closing in on them. Impatience reigning, she said, "Long Island is a long way to come just to return a check. You could have just sent it in the mail."
"Yeah, well, some business is better handled face to face."
"Business?" She fought to hide her disappointment. "I'm not taking your money, Stoney Buxton. You may be fool enough to bust your stubborn hide on the back of some bull, but at least be smart enough not to throw away what was earned. That money was meant for your family, too. For Black Rock. You can't just throw that away."
"You care that much about the ranch?"
"Of course. It's your life. It's everything to you."
"Not everything," he said softly. He glanced around the foyer and heaved a sigh. "What about you? You have some big dreams of your own."
Yeah, but none of them meant much since she left Wyoming, she thought. She looked at the check he held out to her. With both her hands, she bent his fingers closed around it. With great strength, she pulled her hands from his. "Please just take the money."
He balled his fist, crumpling the check before letting it drop to the floor. Damn him for being so stubborn, Melanie thought as she bent down to give it back to him. He grabbed her by the arm to stop her motion. "Your idea about Mitch buying a share of the ranch was a good one. With some hard work, I think Black Rock will be okay."
She smiled softly, remembering the day she first arrived at the ranch and found Stoney all dirty and sweaty mending fences by the corral. She'd had so many dreams that day. How could she have known their lives would have taken such a turn? "I'm glad everything worked out for you."
He swallowed, tapping the brim of his straw hat with his fingers, looking around the foyer uncomfortably. She noticed the tight set in his jaw. "And what about you? Are you going to work with Park Services?"
"Possibly. But not in Wyoming."
Stoney's shoulders sagged slightly, giving Melanie hope for the reason for his disappointment. After everything he said, was he secretly hoping she'd come back to Wyoming? Or was this just her wishful heart hoping that Stoney Buxton was really in love with her. That he really wanted her in his life forever. It had torn her apart to leave Wyoming and come back to Long Island, back to the life she so detested.
She crossed her arms across her chest. "I haven't decided exactly where I'm going yet, but I have a lead on a job in the Everglades."
A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Slow. Sexy. And oh, so Stoney. "You're not afraid of hanging out with alligators?"
She couldn't help but laugh. "Stoney Buxton, you are the wildest beast I could ever encounter and I'm not afraid of you."
He looked at her for a long moment, as if he was about to say something, trying to decide. Her heart pounded in her chest until she thought it would burst.
"Was there anything else?" she asked, hoping he'd say the words she wanted to hear.
He propped his cowboy hat on his head and dipped the rim low, almost covering his eyes. "That's it. I need to be getting back to the ranch." He turned and walked toward the door, and she thought she was going to die.
He gripped the polished brass doorknob, opening the door a crack, then shutting it again. "I'm a stubborn man, Melanie," he said, still staring at the door.
"What?"
He swung around, the determined look on his face told her he'd made his decision to speak his mind. "It was wrong of me to keep you from doing what you wanted. I had no right to make that decision for you." He swallowed hard. "So if you still want to work with the Park Services, with Ivan Collins, or in the Everglades, then you should do it."
"Why, Stoney?"
He looked surprised at her question, as if that was the last thing he'd expected her to say. "Because that's what you want. I want you to be happy."
The only thing that was going to make her happy was for Stoney to wrap his arms around her and tell her words he was too damned stubborn to say. She wanted him to say he loved her more than rodeo, more than ranching, more than life itself. But was she fooling herself?
Stoney tipped his hat, his eyes saying more than his words could ever say. In them, she saw all the words she wanted to hear. "If you ask me, you're too beautiful to be playing with 'gators, Sunshine."
She bristled. Beautiful. After all this, she was just another beautiful woman? She didn't want to be beautiful, not like the woman she was raised to be, not like the women who hung out at the cowboy bars, hoping to get a date with an up and coming bull rider. She wanted love. More than anything, she wanted Stoney's love.
"Good luck, Stoney," she said, forcing the words past her disappointment.
He hesitated a moment before he reached up and feathered her cheek with his fingers. Then he closed the door behind him, and he was gone. And she felt her world close in around her for the second time.
\*
Stoney stood on the granite steps outside of Melanie's parents' lavish home, staring at the door behind him. Was he really so prideful that he couldn't tell Melanie how he felt? Why was it so hard for him to say the words?
Because you have nothing to give her, he told himself. Did he really think she could be happy living with him in Wyoming with nothing but a broken down ranch and hard living for the rest of her life? Everything about this house was flashy and rich. She'd grown up with the very best that life had to offer, with a silver slate just waiting to be drawn on. And all he would be doing was bringing her back to a home she couldn't even call her own.
He had nothing to offer her back in Wyoming. Sure, they'd saved the ranch, but it was going to be a long while before they could breathe easy. If she decided to come back to Wyoming, it would have to be because she'd decided on her own. He couldn't ask her to give up everything for nothing.
He'd parked his truck in the circular driveway in front of the main entrance, but the walk to it seemed endless. With each step, he was acutely aware of how much farther it was taking him from Melanie.
He stopped short as the door to the house opened. He swung around, expecting to see Edmond T. Summers III coming at him with a shot gun, which is what he'd probably be doing if some cowboy showed up on his doorstep with wild ideas to take his precious daughter away. But to his great relief, it wasn't Edmond T. Summers III at all.
"Stoney!" Melanie called out, running as fast as she could in high heels that were definitely meant more for showing off her fine legs than for running.
He stopped short, his heart beating like a wild grizzly in his chest. He stood like stone until she was just close enough to touch. The smile he thought he never see again was beaming up at him. She was so close. He wanted to touch her. He wanted her in his arms, but he held himself back.
Melanie drew in a few deep breaths from running. "Just tell me something."
"Anything."
"When you just said that I was beautiful, you weren't just saying I was pretty, were you?"
"You are beautiful," he said softly. "It doesn't matter if you're all dolled up like this or if you're full of dust and sweat working in the paddock. You're just beautiful to me."
"And you're a stubborn old mule. Stoney Buxton, I love you," she said, tears filling her eyes.
"I know."
"And you love me, too."
He couldn't deny it. He did love her, more than anything that had ever touched his life. His breath caught in his throat. "You got that one right."
"So please tell me why in the hell you're leaving here without me by your side?"
He stared at her for a long moment, choking on words that needed to be said. He glanced up at the house, and then back at her. "I can't give you this, Melanie."
"I never asked you for this."
"I have nothing to give you."
"You have yourself. You have your love. That's all I want. That's everything I want."
"You're not hearing me. I have nothing. Nothing but hard work and--"
"Well, that makes us even because as of yesterday afternoon, I'm cut off."
His brow crinkled.
"That's right. I'll have my trust fund when I'm twenty-six, but until then, I'm broke." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. She smelled of fresh rain water and felt just as silky smooth. "And there is no way you're getting rid of me."
He kissed her then, his heart filling with love beyond capacity. He swore he was never going to let her go. But he did let her go, and when he did, he saw how much love she really did have for him.
She smiled up at him. "Are you still too pigheaded to admit this is the real reason you came all the way to Long Island?"
He scooped her up in his arms again, crushing her against his chest and kissing her soundly on the lips. He'd missed her plenty these past few weeks. But until he had her in the circle of his arms, he never realized how much. "I'm a pigheaded man."
She chuckled, tears filling her eyes. "I knew that already."
He drew in a deep breath and feathered her cheek with his hand. "And I love you, Melanie. I couldn't stand another minute without you. But I figured, if I'm going to be a wreck with worry every time you walk out the door, I might as well have you close by to reel in every now and then."
He glanced back at her parents house and then at her. Slipping his arm out from under her, he backed up a step. "Are you sure you can be happy giving all this up for me?"
"What do you think, cowboy?"
Stoney held her tight. "I guess there is only one thing left to do."
"What's that?"
He smiled. He didn't think he'd ever be as happy as he was that moment. "How do you feel about a summer wedding?"
THE END
Thank you for reading NOTHING BUT TROUBLE. If you enjoyed the book, please consider recommending the book to a friend and writing a review at one of the online retailers.
Thank you, Lisa Mondello


Stoney Buxton is stuck between a rock and a hard place. He knew his family needed him to work the ranch because of his father's injuries. But they needed money too. Do you think he made the right decision?


The relationship between Melanie and her father seems archaic in these times. However, domineering parents still exist and they try to control their children by forcing them to live the life they want instead of the life the child wants. Do you think Melanie handled the situation right? Do you think she could have handled it a different way?


Melanie has had Type 1 diabetes since she was a child. Many people live very active and fulfilling lives with Type 1 diabetes when they are vigilant about managing their health. What do you think is the single most mistake Melanie made?


It's clear that Melanie and Stoney are attracted to each other right from the beginning and that they have separate agenda's. Do you think that their falling in love was inevitable despite each having a clear goal?


Do you know anyone with a serious injury like Wally Buxton's? Do you think that giving him a way to ride horses again was a good step in his recovery? Why?


After Melanie is hospitalized, Stoney is afraid of her going back out into the wilderness. When he receives the offer for her to work with the park services, do you think it was right for him not to tell her? Should he have told her and left the decision up to her?


Despite Melanie's decision not to go to Kenya with the rest of her team, she doesn't give up on her dream. Have you ever had a goal that you had to re-evaluate and change like that? How did it make you feel?


What was the single most memorable part of Nothing But Trouble?


We know that Stoney was a good bull rider and that making money rodeoing was something he loved. Was it wrong of his family to ask him to come home to work the farm after his father was injured?


Have you ever had to put your life on hold because of a family situation? Where you able to get it back on track like the characters in this book?


Excerpt for THE KNIGHT AND MAGGIE'S BABY
THE KNIGHT AND MAGGIE'S BABY
There were more digits in his bank account than most corporate portfolios saw in a lifetime of business. But right now, for the second time in his life, Jonah Wallace had empty pockets.
As a flurry of people swirled around him, he stood on the crowded Harvard Square sidewalk, roasting in the blistering sun, contemplating his options, such as they were. Dragging a deep breath of humidity into his lungs, he decided it was no use. He was going to have to swallow a mammoth lump of pride to get out of this pickle.
The first time he'd been forced to admit his failings he'd been thirteen, alone, and on the run. He had made an oath then it would be the last time he found himself in such a scrape. The fact that he was standing there penniless, wearing a satin-lined tuxedo in the middle of an August steam bath of an afternoon, the sun unmercifully beating him into the concrete, only magnified his current predicament.
How had he managed to let this happen again?
A taxi horn whined loud and long at his back, signaling the driver's unrest over the hordes of people jaywalking through the Square. Every one of them was in a hurry to go somewhere. At this time of the day, they were probably all heading home, which was where he intended to go.
But first...
He dragged his gaze back to the coffee shop door. It was his last hope. Tugging on his bow tie to give him some needed room, he reasoned the fastest way to make it home and deal with his disastrous day would be to swallow what was left of his stolen pride.
That is if he didn't choke on it first.
As his hand connected with the door handle, the heated metal bit into his palm. Jonah yanked open the door in front of which he had just spent the last ten minutes standing, hoping there was no one other than the owner inside. If he had no choice but to grovel, he'd prefer it be without audience.
As he swung through the doorway, the cool air from the air conditioning bathed his face, giving him immediate relief from the heat.
He drew in a deep breath to gather some courage and scanned the empty diner as his eyes adjusted from the sudden change of light. The room smelled of sugar and cinnamon and gravy. A strangely appealing combination, he thought. But at this point, anything was appealing. His stomach protested loudly at the scent of food assaulting his nostrils. Yeah, he was starving, but first things first.
Jonah had never stepped foot inside the small coffee shop, despite the fact that he practically lived at his office, located just across the street, for the past three years. The diner was compact; just a few booths lined the outer-glassed wall. A few more tables with red and white checked vinyl tablecloths occupied the center of the room. It reminded him more of something he'd see in the North End of Boston rather than Harvard Square.
Clusters of white spotlights shone against the brightly colored walls, and it took a moment for his eyes to register the color fully. Behind the counter were rows of parfait cups lying upside down on a glass shelf along with glasses and dinnerware.
A picture on the wall by the kitchen door caught his attention. Since the restaurant was empty, he took a few steps toward the counter for a better look. The photo was of two women, one elderly and one much younger, maybe even in her early teens, standing on the sidewalk from which he'd just come, arm in arm, smiling affectionately. Draped around the frame was a tiny cross of gold on a delicate chain.
A swish of cool air blew into the room. Instinctively, he glanced up toward the source. That's when he noticed the woman standing in the kitchen doorway, one arm on the door, the other in the pocket of her apron. She let go of the door and breezed into the dining room, slipping a psychedelic purple pencil from her apron pocket, and reaching for a small notepad at the same time.
"You caught me. I was just about to close up the shop early. I think the heat has been keeping people away."
Her voice was smooth as velvet and her smile seemed genuine, not just pasted on for show. Her rich dark hair was pulled back tight into a ponytail, resistant tendrils curled around her face, framing high cheekbones.
The woman motioned with her hands toward the vinyl-covered stool at the counter. "You can sit wherever you'd like."
"I'm not here to eat. I was hoping I could ask a bit of a favor."
She stopped short, a slow grin lifting the corners of her lips. Not the genuine smile of courtesy. This one was different, a hint of...something, perhaps mixed with a bit of surprise. Jonah wasn't quite sure.
"You're not from around here, are you?" she said, fiery blue eyes wide with interest. They were uniquely lit, not just by the canned lights positioned on the ceiling above her, but with gold streaks set into their deep sapphire color.
"Well, actually yes. My office is in the building just diagonal from you." Jonah motioned out the window toward the street and beyond the honking horns and bumper-to-bumper late afternoon traffic. When he looked back, her gaze was fixed on him.
Her eyes widened, twinkling with a hint amusement. She flipped an errant lock of hair that had fallen from her ponytail neatly behind her ear and just stared at him.
"You may work in town, but I know for sure you're not from around Cambridge, Massachusetts."
Jonah glanced down at his black tuxedo as he slid into the stool by the counter, brushing his hand absentmindedly across the smooth, clean Formica countertop.
"I know I look rather odd given the fact that it's about a thousand degrees outside."
"One hundred and two if you want to be technical," she said, cutting in. She thumbed back to the double doors at the end of the counter. "I had the radio on in the office."
Jonah pulled at the collar of his wilting white tuxedo shirt until the top button popped free. "It feels every bit of it," he said, forcing a smile.
And it was getting a whole lot hotter. It had already turned out to be the worst day of his life. Making a fool of himself couldn't possibly make it any worse.
As Jonah drew in a deep breath, he watched the smile play at the corner of the waitress's mouth. Her full lips were bare of color, and he wondered if she'd chosen not to wear any lipstick or if working a full day and conversing with customers had chewed off what color she'd applied earlier. His mind instantly pictured her full lips in ruby to compliment her dark hair.
He silently berated himself for thinking along those lines. If the day had gone as planned, he'd be on a flight to Aruba with his new wife at his side.
The best laid plans...
"Well, regardless of where you're from, you look a little lost," she said. "I don't see many tuxedos here at the Coffee Drop. Everyone who's been in here today was wearing shorts and shirts that barely meet proper dress code."
"The clothes. Is that what gave me away?"
"Actually, it was your accent," the woman said, dropping the notepad on the shiny counter top.
Heat crept up his skin from beneath his collar. He'd naturally assumed she'd been referring to his clothes when of course, his British accent would be a dead giveaway no matter what he was wearing. All he'd managed to do is draw more attention to himself.
"Now, since you've already informed me you're not here to eat, how about a coffee? I have to warn you though. Despite the name, I don't serve any of the fancy stuff here. No special blends, no cappuccino or espresso delights. No latte or chai. Only thing on my menu is old fashioned regular and decaf."
It was now or never.
"I'm afraid I don't have..." He shook his head. It was never a good day for humiliation and it was something he didn't do well even if it was. If Catherine had at least left him with his keys when she fled the courthouse, none of this would be happening. "Never mind, it doesn't really matter."
She appeared completely oblivious to his bumbling. "Oh, that extends to iced coffee, too. Given how oppressive it is outside, I'm sure you'd prefer that over something hot."
She turned and pulled a clean white coffee filter from a plastic bag tucked to the right of the coffee machine and proceeded to make a pot of coffee.
"No, that won't be necessary..." As she turned around, Jonah took the opportunity to glance at her nametag. "Maggie. Yes, what I really wondered is whether I could use your telephone."
She stopped spooning coffee into the filter and propped her slender hip against the counter. She stated the obvious. Obvious to anyone who'd stepped one foot on either side of the coffee shop door.
"No cell phone?"
"It's in my other coat, I'm afraid."
"There are pay phones lining Harvard Square."
"I know."
He dipped his head, embarrassment burning its way to the surface of his cheeks more than the blazing sun he'd escaped outside. If only he hadn't agreed when Catherine insisted they take the car instead of having his driver take them to the airport after the ceremony. Unfortunately, when she walked out on him moments before the ceremony began, she'd taken flight with his car and luggage as well. Since the clerk at City Hall was less than thrilled with the idea of allowing him to call his driver from her phone, given the scene that had erupted in the City Hall lobby, he'd taken the next step and pulled out his pockets.
Only to trip over them.
"I don't have any change and...I'm afraid I'm without my billfold at the moment as well."
Her eyes grew impossibly wide, the fine features of her face registering panic. "Oh, I see," she said, quickly lifting an empty cup from beneath the counter and placing it in front of him as if she were suddenly on automatic pilot.
"Are you hurt? Do you need some water or--"
He shook his head.
"I can call the police for you. Are you sure you weren't hurt?" She was already heading toward the kitchen when he realized she had misunderstood.
"I wasn't robbed," he called out to her.
"You weren't? You don't need to call the police?"
He let out a staccato breath and shook his head.
With a slow gate, Maggie quietly walked back to the counter and resumed the task of filling the coffee filter with coffee grounds. She popped the filter into place and turned on the coffee machine before swinging around to him again.
"I must admit I'm a bit confused now."
"Look, it's a bit of a long story. I would have preferred using my office phone, which, as I said earlier, is just across the street-"
"Let me guess. You don't have your keys to the building with you, either, right? And there's no one there to let you in?"
"I gave them all the afternoon off."
"Oh, how nice of you."
He shook his head, wishing to God he'd wake up and this nightmare of humiliation would be over. It had been bad enough when he was thirteen and discovered on the run from the London boarding school he'd attended. Now nearly twenty years later, he wished the tile floor would open up and swallow him whole.
"I just need to use your phone to call for a ride."
She nodded. "From the look on your face, this looks like it's one heck of a story."
"You have no idea," he grunted.
Maggie raised her eyebrows. "People tell me their troubles all day over a coffee and pie. Take a load off. I'm all ears."
He was just about at his wits end when he saw the corners of her full lips tilt up to a teasing grin. "Look, this has been a horrific day and... I'll reverse the charges."
She smiled again. This time it was full blown and when the light twinkle reached her eyes, he knew he was home free.
"Follow me. The phone is just on the other side of the swinging door. Careful it doesn't hit you in the butt when you walk through. The coffee will be ready in a few minutes. I just have to finish up in the back office so if it's not done brewing by the time you are off the phone, help yourself. And to a piece of pie from the desert tray, too. I left a clean dish on the counter."
"Thank you. You're an angel."
"No, I'm just the owner of this coffee shop." She stabbed a pointed finger at him and tossed him an irresistible crooked grin. "But don't you dare breathe a word to anyone that I'm a softy or I'll go broke passing pie out to every sorry-eyed college student who walks through that door."
"It'll be our secret."
As he followed her through the double swinging doors to the phone, she smiled back at him, then walked into what looked like a supply closet at the far end of the kitchen.
If the day had gone as planned, he'd be married to Catherine by now. He'd be on an airplane, sitting in first class, heading to Australia for a three-week honeymoon he hadn't wanted to go on in the first place. All his problems would be over. Not only would he have a wife, but he'd have his car, his keys, his wallet...
And his pride.
\*
Maggie tucked the bank slip in the moneybag and zipped it closed with a trembling hand. She'd already finished tallying up today's register totals and counting the money in the drawer when her tall, dark and sinfully handsome stranger waltzed into the Coffee Drop. As she straightened up her desk, her mind kept wandering to the gorgeous Englishman with the adorable accent now eating blueberry pie at her counter. Who would have ever thought a sensible girl like her would go weak in the knees over a few well strung out syllables?
She pulled at the waistband of her skirt and grimaced at the sudden tightness. Okay, so she never thought that a levelheaded girl like her would end up pregnant before marriage either. But there you have it. She'd done a lot of praying from the time she'd found out about her unplanned pregnancy and made her peace that with God's guiding hand, she was on track again. She was determined to do right by her child.
She snapped the light switch off in her office and closed the door, giving the kitchen a last once over in conjunction with a silent reprimand. It would do no good to berate herself any more than she had over the last few months for being so careless. Regrets over the past took too much time and energy, and she didn't have any spare energy to waste on self-deprecation.
Money bag in hand, she peeked through the glass window of the kitchen door into the dining area out of habit to make sure no one was on the other side before she swung through.
There he was. He sat at the counter hunched over a blue stained plate that had a bite or two of pie left. Not many men could fill out a tuxedo the way this man did. He almost looked too tall to sit on the stool. His dark hair was cut short, but the ends still curled around the nape of his neck, most probably from being out in the heat in that tux.
Maggie fanned her face with her hand, telling herself she was just sympathizing with the man. But she knew she was lying to herself. She'd seen many people come and go in her coffee shop, but none of them gave her a jolt of lightning with just one look like he did.
He glanced up at her as she pushed through the swinging doors.
"What's your name?" she asked. She sounded a little breathless, even to herself and all she was doing was talking to a handsome stranger. Maybe the heat was getting to her, too.
Deep cobalt eyes smiled up at her and pulled her into his gaze. It wasn't the heat. She was breathless. And over a guy!
Geesh. She had no business being attracted to this man, or any man for that matter in the condition she was in. She sucked in a deep breath and reached for the coffee pot, which was just about done brewing.
"My name?"
"You know my name. It seems only fair that I know yours."
"Oh, right. Jonah Wallace and this blueberry pie was the best I've ever had in my entire life. Did you make it yourself?" He clanked the fork on his empty plate.
She shook her head. His compliment was probably just general small talk, but it flattered her just the same. She liked pleasing her customers. And as her grandmother always said, there was no better way to get a man's attention than by plying him with good food.
"Anything is good when you're hungry. You ate that piece of pie like it was the first thing you had all day."
He glanced away and appeared to be thinking, and then he chuckled. It was the first time she'd heard his laugh. It was rich and full of character like the tone of his voice. And it was nice. Too nice.
"Oddly enough, it was," he said. "I don't usually leave the house without breakfast but it's been a..."
"Horrific day. I know, you told me," she finished for him. "As flattered as I am, I can't accept the compliment for the pie, though. Virginia, my morning manager, does all the baking."
"Then I'll have to make it a point to stop in and pay her the compliment in person."
"I'm sure she'll appreciate it."
Mr. English would be paying the Coffee Drop another visit. She wasn't quite sure why that pleased her so. Maybe because men in general weren't on her list of priorities for the coming year, possibly not for a long time to come.
He'd said he worked across the street but she didn't recall ever seeing him before. Sure, there were thousands of people who worked in the square. And yes, he stood out now wearing a tuxedo on the hottest day of August like a big pumpkin at an Irish festival. But Maggie had the feeling even in simple casual wear Jonah Wallace would stand out among a crowd of men. He had a presence that commanded attention and that was rare. At least among the men she'd known in her life.
Oh, dear Lord, please give me strength.
Maggie fidgeted with the zipper of the moneybag. "I take it your ride will be coming soon?"
"Yes, I can't thank you enough for the use of your phone. If it wasn't for your kindness, I'd still be baking in the sun."
"It was my pleasure. I hate to throw you out of the air conditioning and onto the street, but I do have to lock up here and make the bank before it closes. I'd be more than happy to give you an iced coffee to go while you wait for your ride."
He slid off the stool and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. Instinctively, she took the dirty plate from the counter and slipped it into the gray tub filled with soapy water under the counter.
"You've been more than gracious. I don't want to keep you. But I'm afraid I won't be able to pay the check until--"
Maggie waved him off. "Don't worry, it's on the house."
"You're very kind," he said in a low voice that stirred something deep inside her. "But I've never left a bill unpaid in my life. I don't intend to take advantage of your generosity now."
He dipped his gaze, hiding from her view the most incredible blue eyes she'd ever seen, as if he were embarrassed. She was sure that was the case. She'd had her share of Dutch treat dates for the brief time she'd attended Boston University, but she'd bet this week's register tally that Jonah had never allowed a lady he was with to go Dutch.
She couldn't help but chuckle. "It's just a cup of coffee and some pie. In some parts of the world people call that being neighborly."
Jonah stared blankly, and then his eyebrows knitted together.
She pointed to the building across the street. "You said your office is in that building."
His lips stretched into a slow grin. "I guess that would make us neighbors then."
"Exactly. So, don't worry about it. Where I come from we look out for our neighbors."
"And where do you come from, Maggie?"
His question as well as the genuine interest in his eyes caught her by surprise. This man was an enigma for sure. But it didn't take much to figure out they'd lived their lives worlds apart. Not just geographically, but socially. Despite not having two nickels to rub together at the present moment, Maggie could tell this man was from money. Either that, or he was a good impersonator.
"Across the Charles River," she said. Not quite the other side of the track, but far enough to make their differences evident. He was money, she wasn't. End of story.
She locked the door behind them and walked out into the sunshine of Harvard Square, wilting immediately under the cruel sun. The choking smell of fuels and garbage from a nearby trashcan made her stomach roll. Every little smell seemed magnified lately, just like this sudden attraction to a stranger.
Hormones. That's what this is, Maggie decided instantly. Not that she'd had this kind of reaction since she found out she was pregnant two months ago, but she'd never liked the combination of pickles and chocolate sauce either and that had been a regular treat of late.
"Thank you again, Maggie. I didn't catch your last name."
"Bonelli."
Jonah gripped her hand. She was struck by how small her hand felt in his stronger one, how snug his fingers curled around hers. Safe and strong. For a moment, she found herself drawn even closer to this stranger. Abruptly, she snatched her hand away.
"It was nice to meet you Maggie Bonelli. You've made an otherwise rotten day...almost bearable."
"I'm just glad I could help. Make sure you stop by again."
She turned and walked next door to the bank, muttering to herself she shouldn't look back at Jonah Wallace. And she didn't. She made her deposit and decided her day had already been too long.
\*
"Congratulations, Sir. How was the--" his driver said, opening the door to the back seat of his shining black limo.
Jonah put up his hand. "Hold that thought, Michael. Did you remember to bring the petty cash for me?" he asked, tossing the tuxedo jacket to the leather seat.
"Yes, Sir. It's in the--"
Rummaging through the console deck, he found his wallet and his spare set of keys.
"I have it, thank you. Be right back." Twisting around, he walked back the way he'd just come.
He slammed the back door of the limo just as he saw Maggie push through the bank door, and walk out into the heat, moving in the opposite direction.
A few quick strides through the crowd and Jonah fell into her stride.
"I want to thank you again for your kindness."
With the sound of his voice, Maggie did a double take, and stopped walking. His heart did a flip-flop as she peered up at him with wide eyes like she had inside the coffee shop.
"Didn't we do this already?" she asked, her brow crinkling slightly.
"Yes, but I see that you're still here and I've retrieved my billfold--"
As he held the leather billfold up for her inspection, she laughed. Little beads of sweat were already forming on her forehead and matting stray ringlets of hair to the sides of her face.
"You have a hard time letting people help you, don't you?"
He lifted a shoulder. "I'm use to taking care of things myself. I don't think you full appreciate how unusual today was for me. I'm grateful for your help."
Shaking her head, she said, "It was a cup of coffee and a phone call. You're making too much of this. "
"Don't forget the pie. And I'm really not. I'd been to three other shops in the square before I came through your door. No one so much as offered up a smile. With you, at least I got a bite to eat while I waited."
She rolled her eyes and grinned, pursing her lips. "It's genetic. I'm a softy. So was my grandmother."
She continued walking again, this time passed him, and dropped her bag on the wooden bench in front of the bus-stop sign. She glanced back once, just to see if he was going to follow? He took it as an invitation. She glanced down the street toward the shiny black limousine that was now double parked outside her coffee shop.
She nodded toward the limo. "Yours?"
"My ride, thanks to you."
She tried her best not to look impressed, but he could see that she was. He was used to it, but not many people were used to having a chauffeur at will. He generally didn't ask Michael to take him anywhere but formal functions. He'd hired him mainly for his housemaid, Mary, since she detested driving in the city on her own.
"If your friend doesn't want a parking ticket, I suggest he pull into a parking space...or two. The meter maid can be scary, I hear."
"I'll have to remember that." He glanced up at the bus-stop sign and then back at her. "Can I give you a lift?"
Maggie pulled at the waistband of her skirt. The white cotton top that she'd seemed cool enough wearing inside the coffee shop was now clinging to the swells of her breasts, compliments of the heat and humidity.
"That won't be necessary."
"It's no trouble, really."
She let out a quick breath and looked around at the people walking up and down the sidewalk, until her gaze settled back on his face again.
"Look, you seem like a nice man and all. But I don't make it a habit of getting into cars with strange men I've never met before?"
"I'm not a strange man."
She tilted an eyebrow as her eyes drifted down to his tuxedo.
"Right. The clothes again." He motioned back to the diner with his hands. "What was it you said earlier about being neighborly? We've just shared coffee and pie together. You could hardly consider us strangers anymore."
Maggie chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter. He liked the sound of her laugh, musical and sweet.
"Every day people come into my shop."
Nodding, he said, "I see your point. These days you can never be too careful."
"Exactly. Thank you for the offer. That's really sweet of you. But the bus will be here shortly."
Jonah turned and started toward the limousine, then abruptly stopped and angled back. He didn't know why this should mean so much to him. It wasn't just her kindness that had him making the extra effort. He'd met many selfless people working with the Foundation for Young Wanderers. Something told him Maggie was a woman with a heart of gold and perhaps saw little back.
Now that he knew she'd been working directly across the street from him, he knew he could see her at the coffee shop again. He would see her. Something inside him told him it was a certainty.
He wasn't a gambling man by nature, but he decided to go for broke.
"Still, it is August and I hear the busses don't always run on schedule. The limo is air conditioned."
Maggie eyed him speculatively, but didn't say a word.
"I promise to be a perfect gentleman and sit tight on my side of the seat. Scout's honor."
She pursed her lips, grinning as she had before, making his heart hammer in his chest.
"You were never a boy scout."
"Correct, but one good deed does deserves another, wouldn't you say?"
"I suppose," she said quietly, glancing back at the limo, then at her coffee shop.
"If you accept my offer, you'll be home in no time. Or you could spend the next fifteen minutes to however long it takes for the bus to arrive roasting in this heat. And then of course, because the busses are usually crowded, another fifteen or more minutes standing with aching feet on a sweaty bus after a long day of--"
She tossed him a wry grin. "You're pulling out all the stops, aren't you. All this for a lousy cup of coffee and a piece of pie?"
"Air conditioning," he said, smiling devilishly, knowing that would be the catalyst to push her over the edge to accepting.
She heaved a sigh and then laughed, pointing a finger at him. "If my feet weren't killing me so much... You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Wallace."
He gestured to the car with both hands, a grin of satisfaction stretching across his face. "Right this way."
# # #
Excerpt from THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT
THE MARRIAGE CONTACT
Cara Cavarlho could think of a hundred places she wanted to be right now.
This wasn't one of them.
She tugged on the rope dangling above her head. A musty cloud of dust hit her in the face as the stairs leading to the attic of her parents' Westport home dropped, gaining her access. Gripping the splintered stairs, she began her ascent into the "black hole", she so affectionately dubbed the attic in her childhood, with mixed emotion. Ever since her parents decided to sell the home she had grown up in and move to Florida with the senior league, she found herself becoming overwhelmed with emotion.
Of course, her thirty-fifth birthday being right around the corner wasn't a big help. That her mother kept reminding her of her single, childless status only added to her emotional unrest.
She yanked on the metal chain dangling above her head and light quickly spilled into the sweltering crawl space. "It's a furnace up here!" she called down, immediately feeling the cool air below bathe her warm face.
Whose idea was it to delve into this black hole on a hot August afternoon? Certainly not mine! she fumed silently.
"I know. We should have done this earlier in the day, before the sun had a chance to heat the attic," she heard her mother, Ruthie, call up from below. "Do you want me to get the fan?"
I want to get out of here and not do this. "No. I can't stay up here long, anyway. I'm already sweating like a pig."
On her hands and knees, she carefully crawled along the aged planks, feeling them bend under her weight. Aerobics twice a week and running three miles a day had her wearing the same size she had worn since college. With each creak of the aged floor boards, she was glad she'd taken pains to keep her figure trim.
Despite the dim light, it was difficult to see. She squinted her eyes and tried to focus. Boxes. There were loads of them scattered Helter Skelter around her, tucked into corners they'd been placed in years ago and long since forgotten. The life she used to lead was lost up here. Why couldn't things ever remain the same...?
"Just start with a few, dear. We can rummage through them first and price anything you want to include in the tag sale," Ruthie suggested.
"Sounds like a good idea. I'll come back up tomorrow morning before breakfast to get more. I can barely breathe up here now." Cara's eyes roamed the piles of memories one last time. After choosing the five boxes closest to the hole and carefully lowering them to her mother, Cara descended to fresh air once again.
She helped her mother drag the boxes down the stairs and out to the back porch of the beachfront home. Plopping the last one on the wrought iron patio table, she puffed her cheeks and slid the back of her hand across her sweated forehead. The sooner we get through this the better.
Ruthie was the first to begin the unveiling and plunged into the first box while Cara poured both of them a tumbler of her mother's homemade lemonade. After a few minutes of digging, Cara found her tension ease. While she'd been dreading the idea of unearthing old memories, she found the task easier once she delved in and became lost in them.
The first box was filled with old Christmas ornaments and treasures she and her brother, Manny, had made in school when they were kids. A paper doll chain. A old wooden whale Manny had made in woodshop. The next box had old crochet blankets and booties from when they were babies. While Cara fingered the soft yarn of a baby afghan, Ruthie dove into the box filled with old yearbooks and newspaper clippings from Manny's athletic high school days.
"You suppose Manny would want to keep any of these things?" Ruthie asked, picking up a yearbook and fanning the pages open. A candied piece of what looked like edible underwear fell to the floor boards by their feet. Ruthie retrieved the "article" and held it up in the air between her fingers.
Cara laughed, remembering the gag gift Manny had given her years ago. It was harmless, but she knew her mother wouldn't find the truth so humorous.
"Those are mine, Ma. Manny gave them to me before he left for the seminary."
As she expected, Ruthie threw her an appalled look. "How would your brother know about such things? He's a priest, for goodness sake!"
Cara sobered immediately, sucking in her cheeks to keep her laughter at bay. She knew her mother had a hard time remembering Manny as a normal everyday teenager before he'd left for the seminary.
As usually, Cara didn't leave well enough alone. She reached across the table for the naughty underwear. "What size are they anyway?"
"Never you mind." Ruthie dropped the brittle article of "clothing" in the green rubber garbage can by the table. "If your grandmother saw this, she'd probably take them for herself."
Cara gasped. "She would not!"
"Oh, you'd be surprised. The other day I caught her standing in front of the full length mirror, trying on one of those tight bustiers Madonna wears all the time."
"You're kidding. You are kidding, aren't you?"
Ruthie sighed heavily, a worried looked suddenly etching her face. "I think she has Alzheimer's."
Cara's hand flew to her chest. "Why?"
"She's acting strange."
"So what's new? She always acts strange. She's a free spirit."
Ruthie remained somber. "As we speak, she's at church."
"So?"
"It's Tuesday."
"What? People only go to confession on Sunday?"
She slapped the yearbook on the table. "She thinks she's Madonna. And there's the fishing thing."
Cara held up her hand to halt her. "Fishing?"
Ruthie sighed and reached across the table, patting Cara's hand. "You've been away for a while, honey. You'll see what I mean after a few days." Cara turned her attention back to one of the boxes in front of her and pulled out a pair of white baby booties.
"Oh, were these mine?" she crooned, examining the tiny booties.
"No, dear. I made them for your children, just after you were born. Not that they'll ever be used," Ruthie quipped under her breath.
"You made booties for your own grandchildren when I was just a baby? What about me? What did I get to wear?" Cara shook her head in disbelief. Utterly bewildered, she stared blankly at the silk threads sewn in minute stitches with loving care. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the name embroidered on the heels. "Omar? What's this Omar you have embroidered here?"
"Your grandmother made you plenty of booties when I was a little girl. I was merely passing on the tradition. One that I won't hold my breath you'll continue."
Oh, this vacation is going to be good, Cara thought. A full three weeks helping her parents get the house ready for sale, and listening to poor Ruthie dig about her lack of grandchildren, was going to be a slow, agonizing death.
It was times like this she could throttle her brother for becoming a priest and dropping all the procreation pressure on her shoulders.
"And Omar," Ruthie continued, "is the name I picked out for your first born son. What can I say? I had a thing for Dr. Zhivago."
"You were already naming my kids!? Omar?" She mouthed the name with disgust.
"You didn't like Dr. Zhivago?"
Cara drew in a deep cleansing breath of salted sea air, wondering how she could have been born to this crazy family. This was going to be an extremely long three weeks.
Ruthie plucked out an old birthday card from the box and read it. "Devin Michaels. Mmmm. Now that's a name I haven't heard you speak in a long time." Turning it over, she read the ink staining the back and squealed in delight, practically jumping from her seat. "Devin proposed to you!"
"What are you talking about? He did not."
"On your birthday card. He proposed!" Ruthie sputtered, "How come you never told me about this?"
"Let me see that."
Cara nabbed the card from her mother and speed read the note, smiling.
I, Devin Michaels, agree to marry you,
Cara Cavarlho should both of us still
be single at age thirty-five.
Signed: Devin Michaels
"I remember this," she said as the memories poured back one by one. She and Devin had just toasted her birthday. After sneaking out on her own birthday party, they sat on the concrete ledge of the watchtower at Gooseberry Point, watching the midnight moon, drinking cheap wine illegally, and toasting to their future success.
She had been lamenting about Manny leaving for the seminary and the predicament he'd left her with regarding her mother's future grandchildren. If she dared to remain single--which, given her lofty career goals, she'd whole-heartedly planned to be at age thirty-five--Ruthie was sure to hound her for the rest of her life. Or at least until menopause, whichever came first.
Devin joked that he would be chivalrous and rescue her from being eternally damned by her mother. What was nothing more than a little joke between two friends was now coming back to haunt her.
Cara couldn't help but smile, remembering the boy, the friend Devin had been. They'd been inseparable that summer.
"Devin always had a thing for you, you know." Ruthie raised her eyebrows and shined her matchmaking smile.
"Thirty-five seemed so old to us back then."
"Still is when you're single, dear," Ruthie returned.
Some things never change.
Cara rolled her eyes. "We were just kids, Ma."
Kids or not, back then they thought they knew everything. Most of all what they wanted in life. Devin was going to take on the world, she reflected. From the little bits and pieces she'd heard over the years from people back home, and news coverage on the tube of the highly publicized cases he'd won, he'd done just that, as a prominent Manhattan defense attorney.
Winning one highly publicized case he'd taken straight out of law school, one that the prosecution as well as the world thought he'd lose hands down, had propelled him into the most exclusive law firm in Manhattan. It hadn't taken him long to make a name for himself and become a much sought after, multi-million dollar baby of law.
Cara had her own plans, in which marriage had no part. She had to admit pride in the fact that, like Devin, she'd reached the pre-set goals made that fateful summer. She had worked hard and become a home interiors expert, opening her own successful shop in the posh Back Bay area of Boston nearly ten years earlier.
Looking at her mother's bright expression, and knowing what conclusions she'd already drawn, Cara said, "It was a joke, Ma."
"It's in black and white."
"Blue and white."
"How many assistants have you lost to motherhood already?"
"Four," Cara sputtered.
"In a month or so, Louise will make five."
The heaviness of her mother's statement hit Cara hard. Especially in light of the feelings she'd been having of late. Forcing the thoughts away, she tossed out the usual response she used when her mother started this line of conversation.
"That's why I'm not getting married. In case you hadn't heard, barefoot and pregnant went out long ago, Ma. Women have careers now."
"That may be so, but look me. I was so thrilled when you were born, I never once regretted leaving my catering business behind."
"My point exactly."
Ruthie scowled and snatched the card back, holding it to her chest as if it were the only hold she had on getting any future grandchildren. "We'll see about that. I may just get to see your father walk you down the aisle before I die after all."
Cara cocked her head to one side and blinked hard, trying her best to gather up her control. "I haven't heard from Devin in over fifteen years! I doubt he even remembers me."
Even as she said the words, she knew it wasn't true. She and Devin had been inseparable. Warmth spread from the center of her chest outward just thinking of their friendship. It had been a long time since she'd thought about Devin.
Ruthie gasped. "Don't be ridiculous! Devin would never forget you. If I know Devin, he'll keep his word. He'll honor this marriage contract," Ruthie continued, as if she were in her own world. "You must have some feelings for him or you wouldn't have kept his card all this time."
"I didn't even know it was there."
"We'll see."
The way her mother clutched the card, fanning herself from mid-day August heat, Cara knew this was only the beginning. These next three weeks were going to be the longest weeks of her entire life.
\*
Devin Michaels strode through the full glass door of his lavish downtown office in the heart of Manhattan, success evident from his steady gait.
"Congratulations, Mr. Michaels," the receptionist at the front desk said with a gleaming smile.
"Thank you, Lucy." He walked by the woman without so much as a nod of his head, ignoring the overt physical appraisal she made of him in his expensive suit as he paced down the corridor, leather briefcase in his hand. Despite his court win this morning, his mood was growing fouler by the moment. If will alone could kill the bitter taste his profession left in his mouth, he'd have done it long ago. But the past few months of trying hadn't managed that feat.
"Way to go, Devin." Kurt Langdon, an associate partner, slapped him on the back, then shook his hand, squeezing it with competitive zeal. "They said it couldn't be won, but then again, you always prove them wrong. Victory is sweet, eh ol' boy?"
Devin glared at Kurt's hand on his shoulder until it was removed. He'd become used to the other lawyers in the office wanting to befriend him for the sole sake of furthering their own interests within Wallingford, Collins, and McCaid. Kurt's transparency made him nauseous. In fact, all of the vultures working in this firm were circling the dead flesh, waiting for their chance to have their name stand aside the big boys.
Devin had made it his purpose to ensure his name alone would stand out before the rest. That's the way it had always been, and what he'd worked so hard for all these years. He didn't know when it had started, but lately he wondered why he ever thought that was worth fighting for.
Kurt cleared his throat. "We're toasting the big win in the conference room in fifteen."
Devin nodded, and then ventured toward his office door, hoping to find a quiet moment before he'd have to pretend to actually be happy he'd won a case where the guilty won.
"Congratulations, Mr. Michaels," Brenda said softly. His administrative assistant's soft brown eyes twinkled admiration up at him and forced him to smile for the first time that day. They reminded him of warm cinnamon brown eyes that used to smile at him in his youth. Years stood in the way of those memories. Funny how, ever since Brenda started working for him three months ago, those memories kept creeping back into the recesses of his mind.
Brenda shuffled some papers on her desk and stacked them into a neat pile, which she cradled in the crook of her arm. She was green out of business school, and although he had balked at the idea of taking on an assistant so inexperienced, she was quickly shaping up to be an asset to him. His reputation for being an arrogant barracuda was one that made it a difficult position to fill. Brenda's determination to keep up with him was something he admired.
He smiled his gratitude. "Thank you, Brenda."
She quickly grabbed her daily planner and steno pad, adding to the stack and followed on his heels through the double oak doors of his office. "You have a lunch meeting at noon with the senior partners. Mr. Ryan of Ryan Enterprises at two fifteen. Logan Hayward confirmed your squash game at three. You have a meeting with your Real Estate agent at four thirty to finalize the sale on your Co-op." She took a deep breath before continuing, her pause causing him to lift his head to look at her for the first time. "Dinner with Cheyenne at--"
"Cancel dinner," he cut in, remembering he'd forgotten to take care of that loose end himself. Cheyenne Lewis, his companion for the last six weeks when time permitted during his grueling schedule, had overstayed her welcome in his life. She was beginning to get too clingy. "Send her flowers--I think she likes lilies--and tell her..." he thought a minute and shook his head. "I'm sure you'll think of something, but don't make any promises."
"Yes, Mr. Michaels," Brenda said, jotting the note in her steno. "Today's mail is on your desk as well as your phone messages. Ruth Cavarlho was insistent-"
Devin snapped his head up, his pulse quickening. "Who called?" He sucked in a deep breath as if the wind had been knocked out of him after hearing the name. When he saw his young assistant's startled expression, he realized his surprise was evident in the way he'd barked at her.
"Ruth Cavarlho," she repeated, darting her gaze from his face to her steno, her hand still poised in place for the next instruction. Then back again.
It wasn't like him to unravel in front of anyone. He'd be damned if he'd start today.
"That'll be all, Brenda," he said, straightening his spine and pushing strength into his voice as he spoke. A pen on his desk suddenly became his anchor and he gripped it between the pads of this fingers until Brenda nodded.
"Yes, Mr. Michaels." She turned and walked to the wide oak double doors and added, "They're toasting in-"
"Fifteen." He pushed up his suit jacket sleeve and glanced at the gleaming gold watch on his wrist. "Ten minutes. Call me. And get Ruthie Cavarlho on the phone for me, please."
The heavy door echoed in his head as it was closed. He sunk deep into his thick leather arm chair behind his desk and swung the seat around. Rubbing at his jaw, he stared out the window at the hustle and bustle of people below. Everything seemed so small. So very small.
For a man who'd made it his purpose in life to remain frozen, void of emotion, he was thawing fast. To feel anything at all would mean death in the snake pit of a career he'd willingly entered. It amazed him that the mere mention of a name, the thought of Cara could still trigger a deep emotional response to their friendship. The years somehow hadn't managed to wash that away.
He leaned forward in his seat and rested his chin on his steepled fingers. The Manhattan skyline had always been a source of inspiration. It was his dream. But lately, he'd been far too unsettled about the career that had always driven him hard. Instead thrilling in the victory of a court case like this morning's win, his mind eagerly sought out memories of those easy summer days with Cara.
He remembered it well. It was the summer before his father passed away. Carl Michaels had taken ill earlier that spring, told to get his affairs in order and spend time with his family. The elder Michaels had never been willing to take time for anything other than activities he suspected would further his business interest. When they'd received the news his condition was terminal, the family rented the same beach house on the coast of Westport, Massachusetts they'd always spent summers, hoping to capture years of what they missed in what little time they had left. Before that summer, Devin didn't even know his father, and when they finally had a chance to connect, he was losing him.
A bittersweet grin tugged at his lips. Although they were polar opposites in the looks department, he was a lot like his father.
Cara had been more than a friend. She'd been his rock, the one thing that he could always count on to keep him stable while the earth beneath him crumbled. When he first saw her, he was instantly attracted to her cinnamon brown eyes and chestnut curls. The coral string bikini she wore wasn't half bad, either, he recalled, thinking of her walking along the shore collecting shells, flaunting assets she hadn't yet discovered a man found so desirable.
But it was the friendship that bound them together. It hadn't taken long for her laughter to embrace him and, eventually, they'd become inseparable.
Devin chuckled at the irony. He'd built his reputation being a hard as nails, cut throat, defense attorney. Respected and admired by his peers, he was feared by his opponent. In one fell swoop, seventeen year old memories flooded him and brought him to his knees like a spineless jellyfish.
The buzzer on his telephone sounded and Devin swung around in his chair to answer the page from Brenda.
"Mrs. Cavarlho on line one," she announced.
His heart raced as his pushed the blinking yellow light on the phone panel. Ruthie Cavarlho. Everything he remembered about her spoke of love and warmth.
"Devin, dear. It's so good to hear your voice," Ruthie said brightly.
"It's been a long time. I hope everything is well with you." And Cara. Tell me everything about Cara, he said inwardly. Look at him! He was shaking in his shoes like an eighteen year old boy pumped full of testosterone. If only the vultures outside his office door could see this...
"Yes. How's your mother doing, dear? It's been a few years since I've seen her. She doesn't come to Westport anymore." Ruthie continued her small talk and filled Devin in on the family's plans to move to Florida within the month.
"I'm sure Harold is happy to be retiring." With a brisk motion, he slicked back his hair in frustration, waiting for her to be the one to mention Cara's name. A hot fire burned in his gut as he waited, anticipating the news that she was married, maybe with children, living happily ever after in the arms of another man.
But no, what was he thinking? That wasn't Cara at all. The Cara of his memory was a carbon copy of himself, driven in her quest for success. She'd chanted over and over again how she'd never marry. But that was a long time ago...
"Did you receive Cara's card in the mail, yet?" Ruthie said, mentioning her daughter for the first time.
He quickly rummaged through the stack of mail on his desk, tossing each letter aside until he found the thick violet enveloped. "I'm just reading it now." He tore the seal and pulled the cards--yes there were two, he noticed--and began to read the first.
Happy Birthday, Dev!
It's pay up time!
Love, Cara
Confused, he glimpsed the second card, finding it vaguely familiar, and laughed out loud when he finished reading the back. Lord, it felt great to laugh. "I can't believe she kept this!" A strange feeling tugged at his heart that she'd kept a keepsake of him.
"Well, you know, Devin, she always had a thing for you," Ruthie confided as if it was a known fact among them all.
"How is she doing?"
"Fine."
He paused a second, a tinge of disappointment settling in his gut with her lack of elaboration.
"Good."
There was a slight pause before she continued. "She's staying at home until Labor Day, helping her father and me with the move and all. We're having a bit of a bash for her thirty-fifth birthday. We'd love to have you. Are you available?"
The inflection in her voice rose as to emphasize her double meaning. Same ol' Ruthie.
It wasn't until faced with the possibility of seeing Cara again that Devin realized he'd give anything to see her. He punched up his schedule on the computer and immediately groaned at entries flooding each and every day for the next month. "Things don't look good, Ruthie. I'm not sure I can get away."
"Oh, but...what about the wedding?" she gasped.
"Who's wedding?"
"Why...yours and Cara's, of course. You did read the card, didn't you?"
"Yes, but..." Puzzled by her query, Devin picked up the card again and turned it over in case he'd missed some important piece of information. The search proved futile.
"Cara will be thirty-five next week."
"Yes, I know."
"Well, then you know what that means, don't you?"
He was silent.
"Do you or don't you intend to honor that contract, young man."
A grin tugged at his lips. Although Ruthie's voice held a hint of amusement, he sensed her taking this line of offense immensely serious.
Knowing in advance how Ruthie Cavarlho operated, he proceeded with caution. "Ruthie, this contract is bogus. There was no serious intention of marriage by either of us, no meeting of the minds. No-"
"Devin, dear, don't talk to me in legal mumbo jumbo. I don't understand a word of it."
"It was a joke. It's not legal."
"Not legal," Ruthie grunted.
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds. Devin picked up the ball point pen he'd strangled earlier and started tapping in his desk to fill in the void.
"Would Cara know this?" Ruthie finally asked.
"Well, I-"
"I'll bet she doesn't," she proclaimed, an undertone of hope resonating in her words. He could almost hear the wheels in her head spinning triumphantly when she declared, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."
"Ruthie, what are you up to?"
"Nothing. I'm merely planning a birthday party for my single daughter, and I would love for you to attend. Is there anything wrong with that?"
"Of course not."
"And once you're here, if things should happen to, how shall we say, fall into place, then so be it."
He had to laugh. It surprised him how good it felt inside. He'd always been a sucker for Ruthie's charm and seventeen years of passing time had made no difference.
"Devin Michaels, you know how fond I am of you. I've never made any bones about that," she admitted warmly. "And all these years I have been praying my daughter would someday find a nice man like you. So why can't it be you? I know you care for Cara."
He couldn't deny that. But it had never been the way Ruthie had always wanted. What he and Cara had shared was friendship, nothing more. His whole world with Cara felt like a lifetime ago. And at the same time, their friendship was so close to his heart he could almost touch it.
His heart pounded in his chest and he rubbed the spot that squeezed tight. "I'll see what I can do," he conceded, his smile fading. "But I can't make any promises."
"Be sure to bring your tuxedo."
He heard the phone click just as Brenda paged him again. "They're waiting for you in the conference room."
He cradled the phone in his palm wondering what the hell had just happened? He couldn't quite get a grip on the flood of emotions coursing through him. Dropping the phone, he fingered the pink slip on his desk with Ruthie Cavarlho's name scribbled on it for a good long time.
He wanted to see Cara. More than he could even think right now. There was a time when she was the very first person--the only person--he'd seek out was Cara. She'd certainly seen him through the worst times in his life. And some of the best.
This was it, he realized. Going back to Westport to reconnect with his best friend was the medicine he needed help him get his life back on track.
Devin pressed the intercom button on the panel, suddenly feeling good for the first time in days. "Cancel," he said briskly, the rush of excitement from this morning's victorious court appearance long forgotten. The excitement of a new battle took its place.
"I...I beg your pardon."
"I said cancel! Make some excuse, I don't care what it is." Rubbing his face with his hand, he drew in a long breath. He couldn't believe he was actually considering something so foolish, so destructive, putting everything he'd work so hard for on the line.
All he had to do was make a few calls and he'd could catch the next flight. In a matter of hours he'd be standing face to face with Cara. Something inside him clicked, as if everything that was laid out before him no longer held any meaning. He knew what he had to do.
"Cancel the rest of the day, too. In fact, cancel the month. I'm taking a leave of absence starting now."
He heard Brenda's slight gasp. "Mr. Michaels, I don't understand-"
"Just do it! And Brenda, get me my Realtor--" His voice broke off, "No, never mind. I'll take care of that myself."
He leaned back in his chair and swung the seat around. Rubbing his chin between his thumb and index finger, he stared vacantly at the Manhattan skyline. The city he'd sought out in his youth, that drove him with every beat of his heart, had lost its magic with a single phone call. The unsettled feeling that had plagued him for the past few months suddenly lifted and he could finally breathe again. He was taking a new direction, and it felt great.
Hearing the buzz from Brenda again, he swung around and saw the light panel on his phone lit up like a Christmas tree. The grapevine in this office was as fast as a New York cabby racing from one green light to the next. He could almost hear the whispering vultures strategically planning his downfall outside his office door, starting with the moment he walked through it. And suddenly he didn't give a damn what they did.
Brenda sounded again with a repeated buzz that spoke of urgency. If he didn't make a quick getaway soon, the senior partners were sure to barrel through the doors of his office in full justifiable protest.
\*
Cara smiled regally at the many people inspecting the odds and ends she and her family had accumulated her entire life and had displayed on their front lawn for purchase. She was annoyed, to say the least, at their perusal. This was her life they were scrutinizing!
When had she gotten so sentimental? Sure, her parents were moving away, selling the home she loved so much. But she'd left home long ago. Maybe it was just her time of the month. No, that would mean she had perpetual PMS for feeling the way she did. Who could possibly endure that?
Or maybe...it was because Roger, the man she'd been dating for the past year and a half, had become a fixture she wasn't sure she wanted in her life. She'd been a success in business, lived on her own in her Back Bay condo for the past few years. But this thirty-five thing was beginning to hit home.
She pushed the thought away, refusing to believe that her internal clock was waging war, and she was losing the battle.
"Is this real crystal?" a young woman--still a girl really--asked, holding the carafe Cara had given her mother as a birthday gift so many years ago. Her other arm was wrapped tightly around the waist of a young man. Amorous glances and giggles reflected the youth of their love. She wondered if they were newly married, filling their home with items they would someday put up for sale on their front lawn.
"Yes," she replied shortly, watching the young man. He had a familiar stand. It took her a moment, but she realized that he reminded her of a young Devin Michaels.
Funny. Ever since she found that damned birthday card, her mind wandered until it settled on Devin Michaels.
"We'll take it," the young man said, smiling affectionately at the girl. After digging through his wallet, he handed her the amount indicated on the little white tag Cara had so carefully placed on the bottle the previous evening. With their hands entwined, the young couple walked away.
That's when she thought caught a glimpse of him. Devin Michaels. She stood on the far side of the lawn, squinting her eyes from the sun to focus on the man sauntering through the open white picket gate. A dozen or so people had stopped and parked along the side of the road and were now leisurely waltzing across her parents pristine lawn.
The man could just as easily be someone who lived along the beach, just out for a stroll. She'd lived away from home so long that she'd lost touch with the comings and goings of neighbors. It couldn't possibly be Devin just because her mind suddenly wanted it to be. But as he ambled closer, she knew without a doubt it was Devin.
A glimmer of recognition registered on his face when he caught her eyes, and he mouth tilted to reveal a perfect smile. Her breath lodged in her throat, and she couldn't keep from feeling giddy. She nibbled on her bottom lip in an effort to compose herself.
The years had been good to him, she thought, noticing how the lanky boy he once was had filled out in all the right places. The man sauntering toward her now had wide shoulders and ripples along his chest, clearly visible beneath his polo shirt, a telltale sign that he spent time working out regularly. His charcoal eyes had deepened in color, giving off a masculine power of attraction that seared straight through her. It wasn't the Devin Michaels that she remembered from her youth, the shy but funny friend she'd teased so often. He was a man now. Powerful, stunning in movement and frightening with his dynamic presence all at the same time.
But he was still Devin Michael's, her childhood buddy.
"Devin," she said, catching her breath when he was finally standing before her. She looked up and noticed the inches he'd grown taller. He was now at least six inches taller than her five foot seven inch frame.
"Hello, mia Cara." The words of endearment rolled off his tongue with ease, sounding as soothing as the ocean that lulled her to sleep at night. My dear one was the meaning. Her grandmother had referred to her that way on countless occasions in her youth, which Devin had teased her about when he'd been privy to hear. But this time, the pure emotion with which he spoke the simple words cascaded over her like the incoming tide.
# # #
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Table of Contents
Book Club Discussion Questions
Excerpt of THE KNIGHT AND MAGGIE'S BABY
Excerpt of THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT
Chapter One

