by Maddie James
Perfect!
She put the finishing touches on the table just as the wranglers and guests sauntered toward the dining fly. Holding back, she held her breath as one by one they dished up the casserole, the potatoes and the oranges, filled their cups with coffee, and retreated to the camp tables. Mack and Jillie followed.
Then Thad.
He eyed the table, raking his gaze over what she had prepared. Then he turned, slowly, toward her. Their gazes met and Kim fought off the urge to tremble.
He picked up two plates, extended one to her. “Time to eat,” he said, no expression on his face.
Tentative, she eased forward and took the plate.
“Looks good,” he said.
She wanted to smile, resisted. “It is.”
Thad’s gaze slid toward the guests and wranglers. Not a sound came from the tables except for forks clanking and an occasional slurp. “Nutritious and satisfying all at the same time,” he added.
Kim nodded.
“Well then,” he turned back to the food. “Let’s eat and get on the road.”
He dished up a healthy serving of the casserole. Kim let out a slow, even breath. And smiled.
****
Later, she couldn’t believe she’d survived the better part of another day riding deeper into the San Juan Mountains. Thad had indicated at breakfast that they would ride until late afternoon then make camp at an old mining town near Bear Creek that evening. He said they’d camp there for the next several nights, depending, then move on toward ElkPark after that. They’d move east of there until it was time for the guests to catch the Narrow Gauge train back to Durango, then they’d head into Elk Park and catch the spur. Thad, Mack and the wranglers would return to the ranch with the horses and mules.
The twelve mile ride on old Sunshine had proven uneventful, allowing her the luxury of perusing vistas as large as the world itself, as well as a moment or two of self-reflection. The scenery about her was too enormous and panoramic to allow many thoughts of Thad to creep into her mind. Well, at least for most of the day. Images of his hands on her body crept upon her one too many times, sending involuntary shivers down her spine, but she quickly shook them off and tried to concentrate on the scenery.
She allowed herself only a few moments of panic as they traveled up and down the narrow and treacherous trails at the top of the world—and at 11,000-plus feet above sea level, that’s exactly where Kim felt they were. They’d maneuvered through rocky passes, meadows of small, dazzling wildflowers, and patches of lush forest. As they rose higher, the mountains in the distance became rocky and bare.
Sunshine handled herself quite nicely and Kim breathed a little easier with each step up the trail. Now, as they neared the old mine camp, she inhaled huge breaths of the thin, crisp, mountain air until she felt dizzy.
A mountain stream, which she assumed was Bear Creek, bordered their camp site. She could hear the waters rushing in the distance, and wondered if there might be a waterfall nearby. Suddenly, the sight before her paled all of her past problems significantly at the dramatic sense of serenity it brought her. Every muscle in her body relaxed.
In a way, she was glad she’d been enticed to go on this trip. Never in her life had she experienced anything so dramatic and memorable, as well as promoting a bit of self-sufficiency at the same time. She only wished she hadn’t left her camera back at the hotel, they’d never believe this back home.
The camp was set up routinely, having been through it once before now, and Kim, Jillie, and Tim had supper simmering on the stove within the hour. Much to Jillie’s distress and Kim’s amazement, Tim seemed to have appointed himself the cook’s helper while his buddy Aaron tackled the task of feeding and picketing the livestock with the wranglers. They made jokes and laughed away the minutes as Kim played chef and ordered them about. She hardly had a minute throughout the camaraderie to even think of Thad. Of course there were seconds his image crept into her thoughts.
Thad had made himself scarce most of the day. It wasn’t as though she were keeping tabs on him or anything, well, kind of...but not really, she mused. But it was obvious he was avoiding her.
At breakfast he’d inhaled his food and threw his coffee back so quickly Kim had to wonder how he’d kept from scalding his throat. After she and her so-called cook’s crew had cleaned up breakfast and had broken down the kitchen and tent, they’d assisted with the packing and loading of the mules again, but Thad had found things away from her to occupy his time.
Kim watched his back throughout the afternoon as he led them further into the wilderness, and for the first time, she realized she trusted him. She acknowledged that he obviously knew what he was doing and was competent enough not to lead them into dangerous situations.
But each time they stopped he made it a point to stay near the wranglers. He never ventured near Jillie or herself, or even Mack, Tim or Aaron. In fact, she’d caught herself staring at him once, while he was laughing and joking with the wranglers, and felt an instant stab of jealousy. Why couldn’t he be so at ease around her? Wouldn’t it be nice, she thought, if they could actually get through one day, one meal even, with some trivial banter and comradelier?
And now again, as Kim prepared to dish up the dinner of barbecued chicken, baked potatoes, green beans, and a tossed salad she’d thrown together, she found herself watching for him out of the corner of her eye. He was standoffish, separating himself from the rest of the group. When at last each member of the party but Thad had been served, and Kim was helping herself to portions of the meal, she saw the looming shadow fall over the food in front of her and felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
She also heard the pounding of her heart and silently prayed for it to stop. She was afraid everyone else in the camp heard it, too.
Slowly, she dished a hefty spoonful of green beans onto her plate and set the spoon back in the pan. Without a thought, she picked up the last plate on the table and turned to hand it to Thad.
His large hand hesitated, then reached out to grasp the plate. Lifting her head to look into his face, their eyes met and Kim froze. After a brief moment, she absentmindedly shoved the plate toward him and looked away without another gesture or comment. Dizzily, she turned and stepped away from the stove to join the others.
But the image of his eyes stayed with her, taking hold and wrapping around her like a warm blanket. Red-rimmed as if from lack of sleep, his eyes looked tired. But the facade would hold steady, she was sure. He wouldn’t admit fatigue if his life depended on it.
And as Kim stepped toward the table filled with cowboys and guests, she had to wonder what it was that kept Thad from sleeping last night. Could it be the same thing that had kept her awake deep into the night?
She shook her head. Thad wouldn’t be the type of man to let himself brood over something as silly as a mistake. And the chance meeting of their bodies last night had indeed been that. A mistake.
Unless...there was more to it than that.
She halted as she neared the table, afraid to contemplate the question that bounced about inside her brain, and glanced at the group. To her left, she could swear she saw Jillie slide to the edge of the bench across from Mack, taking up space for another person. And there were no other seats available at the table.
She approached Jillie. “Scoot over, Jill,” she whispered. “Let me sit by you.”
Jillie stopped chewing a bite of salad and glanced to her left, then right. “Umm...there’s really not a lot of room here, Kim. Why don’t you sit at the picnic table over there.”
Kim’s gaze followed the direction of Jillie’s pointing finger. An old picnic table, weathered and rotting, left by someone years ago, sat several feet away from the dining fly.
She pulled her gaze back to Jillie. “C’mon, Jillie, that thing’s falling apart. Scoot over.”
Jillie shook her head. “Go on Kim. I’m a lefty, you know that. I’ll elbow you in the ribs the entire meal.” She turned her attention to h
er barbecued chicken, sinking her fork into a piece of juicy thigh meat.
Kim dismissed her with a grumble and glanced quickly at the rest of the group, all eating hungrily. Even Tim didn’t seem interested in more than his meal at the moment. Shrugging, she headed for the solitary table.
After a minute or so into her meal, the shadow crossed her plate again.
Thad sat across from her without a sound, or even acknowledgment that he was not the only person at the table. For several minutes, she ate, every once in a while lifting her gaze to snatch a glimpse of him. He kept his attention on his food. Kim noticed he heartily sampled all of her dishes and before long, his entire plate was clean. Finally, like a satisfied male, he looked up to catch her watching him. Funny how the notion that she’d satisfied his stomach made her wonder if she could satisfy him in other ways as well.
A thrill burst up through her at that moment and she realized that ever since last night, ever since she’d felt Thad’s hard, warm arms wrapped around her naked torso, her brain and her hormones had been thinking the same thing. Could she satisfy a man like Thad Winchester? Correction. Not a man like Thad Winchester, but Thad himself?
Those cool, dark eyes bore into hers and a white-hot shiver raced across her shoulders. “So...” she interjected, glancing toward his plate, “ready for seconds?”
Shit! Seconds? Her brain went to last night.
Hesitating, Thad shook his head. “No,” he finally answered. “Thank you, though,” he added.
“Oh...that bad, huh?” Her gaze kept pace with his; her pulse kept rhythm with...something.
A glimmer raced through his eyes. “No. The supper was...adequate. You’ve handled yourself quite well in the kitchen.”
Was that statement an actual compliment? “It’s second nature.”
“Oh?”
She watched the thin line of brow running over his eyes arch in animation and his jaw grow slack. She was more used to the narrowed, hooded expression he usually sported, but suddenly found his face quite attractive since he’d momentarily rid it of the scowl. Not that she hadn’t found him attractive before—that is if one went after the rugged look...which she didn’t, usually, but....
Kim leaned both elbows over the table and drew closer to Thad. She squinted against the setting sun and felt one corner of her mouth draw up into what might be described as a smirk. Discussion of the dinner was more easily handled at the moment than the thought of her and Thad together. And for once, they weren’t yelling at each other. “That meal was more than adequate and you know it, Thad Winchester,” she threw out playfully.
Am I actually flirting?
Echoing her lean, Thad’s face inched closer. “Well...I might be willing to up the rating to satisfactory if I had some desert and coffee.”
Is he flirting?
“Regular or decaf?” They both knew there was nothing but regular.
Thad pulled himself back at the quick comeback and Kim actually saw a hint of a grin pass over his lips. “Regular. I sleep like a log. What’s for desert?”
“Pound cake with strawberries. And you didn’t sleep like a log last night... Cream or sugar?” She drew in over the space of the table again, becoming accustomed to this strange banter between them.
“Black. And no strawberries. I’m allergic. Why don’t you think I slept well?”
She rose, her gaze holding his steady, picked up her plate, and reached across the table for his. “Because I didn’t, either.”
Thad’s fingers wrapped around her wrist stopping her and her gaze shot to his hand. An ever-so-gentle tug pulled her slightly closer. Kim felt drawn to him, the tug likely wasn’t necessary. The physical pulling of her closer wouldn’t have mattered at all. Her plate fell to the ground with a clank and rattle. She had practically stopped breathing the instant his hot fingers curled around her wrist.
But when she brought her gaze back to his face, it was like carved marble. “I can do that myself,” he said. “You don’t have to wait on me.” His eyes were glinted steel and full of warning. Warning her of what, she just wasn’t sure.
Not to cross him? Or get too close?
“It’s not my nature to wait on anyone, Thad, unless I choose to. Now if you’ll kindly unhand me, I’ll get us both some cake and coffee.”
He did and she picked up her plate, stepping away from the rickety old picnic table that held the larger-than-life male behind her. An erratic tattoo beat against her chest and her brain registered the fact that she needed to breathe.
What the hell was wrong with her? Could it be that Thad Winchester did more to her than just kick her hormones into full gear? Could it be that those fleeting vulnerable and irresistible looks he gave her were getting to her?
“And why am I bringing him cake and coffee?” she muttered. Why did she even want to do that? She was more used to men bringing things to her, rather than the other way around.
She wanted him. That was why. She wanted him bad.
With every molecule of her being. She wanted him unlike any man she’d ever wanted before. And admitting that only fanned the flames more. But even at that, she knew it would be a cold day in hell before he would entertain any notion of wanting her. Especially for anything other than a quick romp in a sleeping bag. There was nothing permanent about what Thad could offer her. He was not the kind of man she needed.
And she wasn’t up to a vacation romance. It was obvious that that would be all they’d ever have. Picturing Thad in her world was ridiculous. Picturing herself in his was...was, well, almost....
Ridiculous.
Well, no matter. She would not be a party to the whims of Thad Winchester, no matter how inviting. She had to control those raging hormones inside of her, tamp them down and settle them all prim and proper and ladylike. She wouldn’t settle for anyone who didn’t scream permanent relationship. Or at least long-term. Very long-term. Thad was a quickie waiting to happen and she was as ripe as an August tomato.
She couldn’t fall under that rugged spell of testosterone. She couldn’t let herself be drawn into his sexy web of maleness. She’d been tricked into a two week pack trip that wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d originally thought—in fact was actually enjoying, to a point—and then she was going home. To Kentucky. To her students. The career she’d worked so hard for. And to the real world.
It all boiled down to one thing: I have to stay away from Thad. The smell of rawhide was just too darn appealing these days.
Absentmindedly, Kim looked down and tossed the dirty dishes into an empty dish pan, glanced once at the coffee pot and pound cake, then turned on her heel and headed for the privacy of her tent.
Forget dessert. Of any kind.
Chapter Eight
Across the leaping circle of orange and red flames, Thad sat alone and stared into the fire. He had intentionally separated himself from the group. There had been marshmallows to roast on thin branches, and lively conversation from the guests and his men, but he hadn’t gotten involved. He couldn’t let his guard down long enough tonight to allow himself camaraderie. He was afraid he’d slip, drift over to Kim’s side, and before he realized it, pull her close to him. It was an image that kept creeping into his mind; he had to get rid of it.
It was extremely important that he keep his guard up for the remainder of the trip. It would be all to easy for him to let it down to a point where he’d never get it back up again.
He wasn’t up for that risk. He had to set the example for his men. Hadn’t he just fired one of his best wranglers less than two weeks ago because he’d sneaked off with a guest for a little afternoon delight? Yes, he had. And Ben and Luke would be watching, not that they were deliberately trying to catch him at anything. They were good men, and loyal, and he wanted to keep it that way. And Mack, he was going to have to keep his distance from Jillie, or...well, he didn’t want to think about the outcome.
He turned his attention to his guests. The two city-slickers from Indiana had made themselves quite at home.
One fancied himself a cowboy and hung close to the wranglers, and the other liked to fancy himself the dandy. But every time he inched closer to Kim, Thad felt his gut tighten.
He was jealous of the freedom to flirt, to get close to her. Perhaps after the pack trip....
Naw. There wouldn’t be time. She’d return to wherever it was she’d come from and he would never see her again. He just had to face it, no matter how attracted he was to the woman, as long as she was involved in the pack trip and he was the proprietor of that trip, there’d be no chance in hell that they would ever get together.
But perhaps, just perhaps when all this was through, if he could get an email address, a phone number....
His gaze shifted. Heat from the fire flared before him rivaling only the desire boiling up inside his gut much like the red embers roiling in front of him.
Watching her toss her short, blonde hair back as she stared into the fire, he studied her features. She’d separated herself from the crowd now, too, much like he had done earlier. Suddenly, it seemed she needed none of them either and he had to wonder what thoughts she contemplated as she sat there, her pert face illuminated lit by fire-glow.
His breathing labored as his gaze traveled from her face to the open neck of her borrowed western shirt, across her shoulders and down her arms to where her elbows sat perched on her knees. His heart beat a wild cadence. It only took one look for him to remember how soft she’d felt in his hands. How warm she’d felt in his arms, next to his chest. How hard he’d been with desire for her.
With her knees drawn up close, she cradled her chin in her hands and stared trancelike into the flames. If only, he thought...if only he knew what she was thinking. What she really thought, felt about him.
If only... He might be damned tempted to take the risk.
Familiar strains of a long ago forgotten tune broke through the crackling silence of the campfire. One of the wranglers sitting not far from Kim, began strumming his guitar. Thad watched as her startled stare lifted from the flames and caught Thad’s and held. His heart strummed now in rhythm to the haunting tune. Thad tore his gaze away to stare from the heat of the flames into the cool depth of the night.