by Jane Toombs
He scowled at her. "If you got on, you can get off. Listen up. Keep hold of the reins while you put your left hand on Susie Q's neck. Now put your right hand on the saddle horn. Good. Lean slightly forward and shift your weight to the left stirrup."
Vala groaned as she obeyed. When he told her to swing her right leg over the saddle, it took her two tries and a few more groans before she managed it. She was certain she'd never be able to step straight down and free her left foot from the stirrup as she did so and she was right. If Bram hadn't caught her, extricating her from the stirrup at the same time, she would have sprawled onto the ground with her left foot still caught in the damn stirrup.
She clung to Bram, hurting all over, not sure she could stand by herself, in too much pain to feel humiliated. Susie Q snorted and, when Vala involuntarily glanced at her, she found the mare had turned her head and was staring, quite possibly in disgust, at this tenderfoot rider who couldn't even dismount properly.
With Bram's help, she hobbled a few steps but, when she tried to ease down so she could stretch out on the ground, he wouldn't let her, saying, "You won't be able to get up if you do."
"I don't care," she mumbled.
"I do." His voice was hard and cold. "We're not going to camp early just for your convenience. You lied to me and you're going to suffer the consequences. We'll rest for a bit, then either we go on or we turn around and give up any idea of camping in the Superstitions."
Vala wanted nothing more than to get back to the motel as fast as possible and fall onto the bed but one look at Davis's apprehensive face and she gave up the idea. She didn't know how she'd manage it, but go on she would. Even if it killed her.
"You may have to lift me onto the horse," she told Bram, "but I'm not giving up."
"Way to go, Mom," Davis said.
"You may think so," Bram growled, "but by the time we camp this afternoon, your mother is going to be extremely sorry she didn't choose the other alternative."
"I think she was afraid you wouldn't guide us if she told you she couldn't ride," Davis said.
She was right, Bram thought. He wouldn't have. His annoyance with her was mixed with reluctant admiration for her tenacity. Vala just wasn't the kind who gave up, even when the odds were against her.
"We'll walk the horses for the next stretch and give them a rest," he said, aware he was doing it for Vala's sake. The horses weren't anywhere near ridden out but neither she nor Davis would know that. While she'd find walking painful, it wouldn't hurt as much as getting back into the saddle. They went on, Vala hobbling gamely along, leading Susie Q. Bram decided that Mac must have had a sixth sense about Vala's non-existent riding skills because the mare was the most amiable and tractable horse in his corral. Susie Q would never take advantage of her rider.
Near noon he called a halt for lunch and they ate the cheese sandwiches put up for them at Brenden's, Vala leaning against a rocky outcropping rather than trying to sit. When they were ready to go on, he hoisted her into the saddle, watching her bite her lip rather than moan as her aching muscles protested.
When they finally reached the spot where, revising his original plans, he'd decided to camp for the night it was only three in the afternoon but he knew she couldn't go on much longer. He'd originally figured three days in and three days out but now he added two additional days to his estimate. Food wouldn't be a problem because he always brought more than he expected to need.
After Davis helped Bram with the horses, they put up the tent where the boy and his mother would sleep. "It sure goes faster with four hands than it does with two," Bram told him when they finished. "Thanks."
Davis nodded, flushing with pleasure, then turned to look at Vala who was sprawled on a sleeping bag, eyes closed. "Do you think she'll feel better tomorrow?"
"Some, anyway."
"Where's your tent?" Davis asked.
"I like looking up at the stars so I don't use a tent unless it rains."
"I've slept outside before," Davis said. "At camp. I don't need to be in the tent with my mom."
"For her sake you should be tonight at least," Bram told him. "She might need you."
"Yeah, you're right."
Vala heard them talking but, in her relief at being able to stretch out at last, she didn't bother to pay attention to what they said until Davis knelt beside her, insisting she take a pill, claiming that Bram said it would help her.
"Mr. Hunter," she mumbled reflexively.
"He says on the trail we use first names."
She opened her eyes and Davis showed her the pill. "Ibu-something," he said. "It's for sore muscles." "Ibuprofen." She raised herself onto one elbow, swallowed the pill with a sip of water, then fell back onto the sleeping bag and didn't move again until sunset, when it was time to eat Bram's camp stew served with biscuits and hot tea.
She managed to walk to the camp fire by herself, where she sat on a folded sleeping bag, her back propped against a second rolled-up bag while she ate.
"Tonight's lesson," Bram announced, "is what to do if you get lost."
"You serve lessons with the meals?" she asked.
"Our walking wounded must be mending," Bram said to Davis. "She's beginning to talk." Turning to her, he added, "One lesson each evening--you might call it dessert."
"A kid at my camp got lost on a hike once," Davis said. "He wandered around until he came to a road and some guy on one of those big Harleys gave him a ride back to camp."
"We don't have any bikers in the Superstitions," Bram said, "so listen up. Rule 1. As soon as you know you're lost, stop, sit down and try to figure out where you are in relation to where you came from. Use your head, not your legs. Rule 2. If you have no idea where you are, make camp in a nearby sheltered spot. Rule 3. Don't wander. If you must move, travel downhill. Rule 4. If you're hurt, try to light a fire and make a smoke signal. Rule 5. Don't yell, run, or get panicky. And never give up."
Vala closed her eyes and let his words flow over her, thinking that when he wasn't angrily growling, Bram's deep voice was really quite soothing.
When Bram finished, he and Davis cleaned up, leaving her sitting alone by the fire. If she didn't try to move, she was fairly comfortable. But then Davis returned, asking for his sleeping bag, the one she was leaning against.
"I'm going to turn in, Mom," he said. "We've been climbing all day and the higher elevation makes you tired, you know."
She didn't argue, aware that, though he might be using it as an excuse for feeling sleepy so early in the evening, he actually was telling the truth. He took his sleeping bag to the tent, leaving her still sitting but now uncomfortably. She was trying to gather the energy as well as the courage-- it was going to hurt--to clamber to her feet when Bram came back to the fire carrying her unrolled sleeping bag and the old gray sweat suit she'd tucked inside it.
"You planning to sleep in these?" he asked.
Taken aback, she stammered, "Uh--yes."
He dropped the clothes on her lap. "Get into them." Before she could think what to do or say, he walked off, making it clear he didn't plan to stay and watch.
She shrugged, wincing at the soreness in her shoulders, and thought, why not? I have to get undressed sooner or later and it'll be easier here than in the tent.
When Bram returned, she was standing with the sweats on and trying to decide if she could manage to bend over and retrieve the clothes she'd discarded. He knelt and rolled her clothes into a bundle, then smoothed her sleeping bag. "Lie on this," he ordered.
She stared at him in confusion.
He half-smiled and pulled a tube from his jacket pocket. "Liniment. Good for sore muscles. Don't forget you have to get back on Susie Q tomorrow."
Vala grimaced at the thought.
"This liniment won't cure you," he added, "but you have my personal guarantee it'll help."
Deciding she couldn't feel any worse, Vala eased herself down onto the sleeping bag, lying on her stomach. She tensed when he lifted her sweat shirt and put his hand
on her bare back.
"Relax," he ordered.
She tried to obey. His hands were warm, the liniment cool at first, then, as he rubbed it in, pleasantly hot.
He kneaded her muscles with an incredibly gentle touch.
"That feels good," she murmured, thinking, as he went on to her lower back, that perhaps it felt a little too good for her peace of mind.
Good wasn't exactly the word he'd choose, Bram thought as his hands stroked the curve of her hip. When he decided the liniment might help her, it hadn't occurred to him just what the treatment was going to do to him.
Her skin was so soft and smooth, satiny under his fingers and when he cupped her rounded buttocks he found himself imagining her in his arms, tight against him while he held her like this.
Keep your mind on what you're doing, Hunter, he warned himself as desire began to throb insistently through him. You're supposed to be a masseur at the moment, not a lover. Why was touching Vala different than touching any other woman? Because she'd been a mystery he'd never had a chance to solve?
He'd thought he came on this trip for the kid's sake, but he had to admit that sure as hell wasn't the way it looked now.
Chapter 3
Vala slept so soundly she didn't hear Davis get up, dress and leave the tent. She roused to a loud clanging, sitting up abruptly, then wincing as her sore muscles protested the sudden move.
"Breakfast, Mom!" Davis shouted from somewhere outside the tent. She wondered if he was the one who'd banged on a pan with a spoon or if that was Bram's idea of fun.
"I'm awake," she called back. "Be there in a jiff."
She dressed as quickly as she could, ignoring the twinges, trying to convince herself riding would prove easier today, and joined the two males. The morning air held a touch of crispness that she knew the sun would soon banish.
"Bram's oatmeal is way cool," Davis informed her. "He puts cinnamon in it."
Vala raised her eyebrows. Davis eating oatmeal? The stuff he called gooey yuck when she tried to serve it at home?
"Sticks to the ribs, with or without cinnamon," Bram said. "Good on the trail. Right, partner?"
Davis nodded with enthusiasm.
Once finished with breakfast, Bram said, "Today's dessert is a message from the chain fruit cholla." He pointed at a gangly-looking cactus to their left. "The cholla warns, 'Brush against me and I'll break off a chunk of myself to attach to you. Trust me, you won't like it."
"Isn't that what we used to call jumping cactus?" Vala asked.
He nodded.
"Did you guys really go to high school together like Mom said?" Davis asked. "I mean when you were teenagers." He sounded dubious about the possibility of either of them ever having been that young.
Bram grinned at him "Yup. In fact, I can even remember way, way back when I was nine, like you are now. I was a really rotten kid. But I grew up and learned how to behave--when I work at it. Speaking of work, time to pack up and hit the trail."
Vala and Davis pitched in to help, although her painful muscles slowed her considerably. All too soon it was time to climb aboard Susie Q once more, whether she wanted to or not. Bram had already saddled the mare--she supposed that would be the next thing she'd have to learn--so all she had to do right now was remember how to get on.
The first thing she forgot was which was the mounting side and she approached from the wrong one, earning an astounded look from Susie Q.
"Mom!" Davis yelled. "Get on her other side!"
As Vala switched, she thanked her lucky stars for the mare's patience and placidity. If she had to ride, at least she had an unflappable horse that forgave her mistakes. She got up onto Susie Q with no difficulty despite her aches, but as soon as they started off single file, she groaned.
How she was going to endure one more day of this, much less four or more, heaven only knew.
Up ahead of her she heard Davis whistling, something he hadn't done in months, and she resigned herself. If he was happy, what were a few aches and pains?
"All right back there in the rear?" Bram called.
"Yo!" Davis answered.
A lot of the problem was in her rear, Vala thought ruefully, her affirmation a lot less enthusiastic than her son's.
But as they rode on, she felt herself loosening up and settling into Susie Q's rhythm without consciously willing it. As she'd predicted, the rising sun's heat began to warm the crisp air and little chirping birds--cactus wrens, maybe?--flitted back and forth. Vala had always enjoyed the outdoors. She couldn't deny the day was beautiful and her companions cheerful company, Bram now whistling in counterpoint to Davis.
Bram was so good with her son. She could wish he'd donate a few dabs of his considerateness to her, but she didn't expect it. Although, come to think of it, massaging her sore muscles with that liniment last night was thoughtful. She didn't think he'd realized how his hands on her body had done more than ease muscle aches. If he had, she'd rather not be aware of it.
There'd always been something about Bram that had turned her on--not that she ever planned to let him know it. He was every bit as good-looking as he'd been as a teenager, with the added attraction maturity brings. Easy does it, she warned herself.
When they stopped to rest the horses, she was pleasantly surprised to find she was able to dismount without help and without falling on her face.
Looked like they'd be going on, Bram thought, watching Vala covertly. She was smiling today, even though he could tell by the way she moved that she still hurt. Definitely not the droopy, sorry-for-herself type he couldn't bear. But then she never had been. Kind of a loner in high school, as he remembered. Though she'd had friends, she hadn't been a part of any of the in crowds.
"I might just turn into a real horsewoman and surprise everyone." Vala was speaking to her son but he knew she wanted him to hear.
"Might," he said. "Might not."
"You don't faze me," she told him. "Susie Q's as smart as they come. You'd be amazed at what she's taught me already."
"I'm not a bad teacher myself--depending on what you want to learn," he said with a grin.
He could see she wasn't sure she wanted to reply to that one. Davis saved her the trouble of deciding by saying, "Yeah, Mom, he knows a lot of neat stuff."
"I'll bet," she muttered.
"How much?" Bram asked her.
"How much what?"
"Do you want to bet?"
"I'm not entirely sure what we're supposed to be betting on."
"My mom doesn't ever bet money," Davis put in.
Bram raised an eyebrow.
"He's talking about the state lotteries," she said.
"I don't do them."
"I wasn't thinking about money," Bram told her.
She shot him what was meant to be a quelling glance, but he had no intention of dropping this. "What I meant was," he drawled, "I'm willing to bet I can teach you to do something you never dreamed you could do."
"Like bungee jumping? No, thanks."
"We'll exclude death-defying stunts. Scared to take me up on it?"
Again Davis took her off the hook by saying, "Whoa, look at that weird lizard." He pointed.
Just before it slithered into a crevice, Bram saw the big, brownish lizard whose skin appeared too big for him. "That's a chuckwalla," he said. "Non-poisonous. They like these mountains."
"There's a lizard drawn on my map," Davis said. "It's the first marker.
Bram nodded. "I think I know what it refers to. We ought to get there sometime this afternoon." He eyed Vala appraisingly.
Following his gaze, Davis said, "Aw, Mom's doing better. She can make it."
After that, Vala felt she had no choice, even though she grew less and less comfortable on Susie Q's back as the day wore on. She was almost past the point of caring when Bram finally called a halt.
"This'll be our night camp," he said. "After we take care of the horses, we'll hike a bit and I'll show you the marker."
Hike? When it was all she cou
ld do to get herself off the horse? How she longed to stretch out on the ground and not move for hours. Maybe days. Gritting her teeth, she controlled the impulse, aware once down she wouldn't willingly get up.
The marker turned out to be a rock formation off the trail that to her only vaguely looked like a lizard. Davis, though, was thrilled at the validation of his map and chattered on about finding treasure all the while he helped set up camp.
Vala, by then lying fully dressed on her sleeping bag in a half-doze, was barely aware of what he was saying, though she did hear Bram.
"Treasure comes in different packages," he said. "Sometimes you don't recognize it right away as treasure."
"But this treasure's gold," Davis protested. "Everyone knows what that looks like."
"Old Mokesh didn't tell you it was gold. He didn't even say treasure."
"Uh, no, he didn't. But he must've known what it was 'cause he had the map. I figured it has to be gold on account of Lost Dutchman Mine and all, you know? But maybe it's jewels and stuff, is that what you mean?"
"No, not jewels. We'll talk more about it later. Right now you'd better get your mother up or she'll miss supper. When I cook, no one skips meals."
Vala groaned at the ultimatum, but realized she was too hungry to bypass supper. Getting stiffly to her feet, she joined them at the small campfire.
After they'd eaten, Vala made no pretense of helping to clean up because she was just too blamed sore. As the fire died down to coals, Bram and Davis came to sit by her.
"We might run into some weather tomorrow," Bram said. Vala gazed up at the dark sky. The moon hadn't risen but she could see stars.
"How can you tell?" she asked.
"Mom, he's a guide. He knows the area."
Bram chuckled. "I can't take the credit, partner. What I do is make sure I watch the Weather Channel to catch the five day forecast before I go into the Superstitions."
"Hey, cool," Davis said.
Apparently nothing could tarnish her son's image of Bram as a western expert, full of all kinds of esoteric lore even if it came from the TV, Vala thought a bit sourly. Then she wondered if maybe she was overreacting. Could she be the least bit jealous of Davis's hero worship?