by Jane Toombs
At the first rest stop, Bram took Vala aside. "Don't hover over the kid," he said in a low tone, making sure Davis couldn't hear. "He's capable of thinking for himself--let him."
"I suppose you wanted him bitten by that poisonous lizard."
"I had an eye on him; he was in no danger."
She glared at him. "Davis is only nine."
Bram shrugged and walked away. The boy wasn't his; he'd done the best he could to loosen the apron strings. But it seemed to him that as Davis learned competence at different camp chores, he was beginning to realize he wasn't what his father thought of him--useless. She ought to encourage her son's independence.
They stopped to eat at noon at a relatively flat area that branched off in several directions. When Davis started to explore, Vala warned him to be careful of the cacti and to watch out for snakes. With some difficulty, Bram kept his mouth shut.
"Aw, Mom, I'm just trying to spot the bear," Davis grumbled. "We need to find it for a landmark."
"Okay, but don't go out of sight."
Didn't she realize her kid was about as dependable as any nine-year-old boy could be? Bram wondered. And didn't she remember how repeated warnings made a kid want to rebel? He shrugged. Maybe she hadn't been as ornery in their younger days as he'd been.
Davis returned, they ate, remounted and went on. Bram wanted to reach another plateau a couple of miles along the trail to set up their night camp so he kept a steady pace.
He wondered what she'd do when darkness mantled the mountain. Davis usually went into the tent early and so there'd be just the two of them under the stars.
Unless she made the first move, best to let things be until she was ready to take their relationship further. He doubted that would be tonight, considering the problem she seemed to be having about contributing to and enjoying the kiss.
He began whistling an old song that had a line in it about a kiss just being a kiss.
From her position at the rear, Vala recognized the tune and recalled enough of the words to decide it was directed at her. She glared at Bram's back. That damn kiss aside, where did he get off telling her how to raise her son? He didn't have any kids, what did he know about it?
She worked hard at trying not to be an overprotective mother and she resented being told she was. If she didn't take care of Davis, who would?
Later, after they reached the spot where their night camp was to be, Vala found that Bram had taken her at her word when she'd told him she'd take care of Susie-Q from now on. He and Davis got the gear off their horses in what seemed to her impossibly fast speed, rubbed the animals down, fed and left them--and her--while she was still struggling with the mare's saddle.
She could hear them laughing as they set up the tent.
At her? Hey, she wanted to call, it's not easy being a tenderfoot. At least I'm trying to pull my weight. But her annoyance faded as she realized her son had laughed more in the past few days than he had in the last six months. Bram was good for him, too.
Where had that "too" come from? Did she really think Bram was good for her? A man whose kiss had her melting like candle wax in the sun?
By the time she'd finished with Susie Q, they had the tent up and were working together to start supper.
As they ate, Vala decided the problem with camp food was that the limited selection made meals somewhat boring. Not that she'd dream of saying so. Though no gourmet chef, with a full refrigerator, shelves of supplies, and a modern stove, plus microwave, she could cook a decent meal, but she certainly didn't want to be forced into trying to make do here and now.
After they were through eating, Bram served up his usual warning for dessert, a different one each time, about avoiding harm in the great Arizona outdoors.
"So a pair of pliers should be a part of every camper's gear," he finished. "Because of the fish-hook end of cacti spines, you need something more substantial than tweezers to pull them out."
"A kid at my summer camp got a fish-hook caught in his leg," Davis said. "He sure yelled when the nurse pulled it out."
She wondered if her son retained any of Bram's cautionary desert "dessert" teachings. It was hard to tell what impressed a nine-year-old and what didn't. Which was why she often repeated her warnings to Davis. She did not hover over him, she was merely being careful.
As night closed in around them and the moon rose, Davis was the first to opt for the tent. Vala told herself she'd give him enough time to get undressed and fall asleep and then she'd call it a day as well. Not that she was especially tired, but it was only prudent to avoid being alone with Bram.
"No more aches and pains?" he asked her.
She shook her head. "I guess I'm turning into a real horsewoman."
"I suppose. Too bad." He grinned at her. "I got to looking forward to our liniment sessions."
"You're incorrigible."
"No, ma'am, just an opportunist."
With the feel of his hands massaging her bare skin all too easy to remember, Vala decided retreat was the better part of valor. She faked a yawn.
"Ready to run off scared?" Bram asked.
She started to put on an indignant act, then gave it up as stupid. "Something of the sort, yes."
"No need. It's your call."
"My call? You expect me to--to--" She couldn't find the right words.
"To discover what you want?" He nodded.
"Are you that sure of yourself?"
"Nope. Hope springs eternal."
Despite herself, she smiled and relaxed. Even with the sensual awareness arcing between them, Bram was easy to be with.
"I wish I hadn't misunderstood your visit years ago," she said. "We might have become friends."
"Yeah--good friends."
Though she was aware it wouldn't have happened if her parents could have found any way to prevent Bram from coming near their daughter, she went on picturing her timid teenage self and brash Bram together.
"The kids at school would have had their socks knocked off when they saw me riding on the back of your bike," she said.
He chuckled. "I'd like to have seen that myself. You wouldn't have been too scared?"
She shook her head. "Not if I was with you."
He reached over and covered her hand with his. "You actually trusted the guy I was then?"
Turning her hand over, she clasped his. "I had a bad case of hero worship."
His grip tightened. "Wish I'd known. What about now?" "I don't know," she said honestly. "Being with you confuses me. I'll admit there's something between us, but I'm not sure I want to explore it."
"There's an old sixties song about regretting the path not taken."
"I realize I may regret it if I don't. But even worse, what if I regret it if I do?"
"Why would you?"
She sighed, enjoying the sensation of her hand resting safely in his. But there'd be nothing safe about allowing herself to see where the path with Bram would take her. "Maybe men don't experience loss in the same way women do," she said finally. "Neal is the only man I've known really well and I doubt that he's ever had such a feeling."
Bram released her hand, saying gruffly, "I'm not Neal."
"I'm not comparing you!"
"Oh, yes, you are. You have been from the moment I walked into that cafe."
About to come up with an indignant denial, she realized there was some truth in his words and she smiled at him.
"Guilty. And don't you wish you knew how favorably you stack up?"
That earned her a raised eyebrow. "Favorably?"
"You'd make a far better father than he ever could be," she said.
"Judging by what you've told me, sounds like almost any man would."
"You care. Not only about how Davis feels but about other things. You have no idea how your voice softened when you mentioned your cat and her kittens. And you were kind enough to try to ease my aches, even though you were annoyed that I'd lied about being able to ride. You don't treat the horses like dumb animals, either."
"But you figure you're going to be left unhappier than you are now if we make love."
Vala sighed again. "I'm afraid of that, yes."
He offered her a lop-sided smile. "So much for the staying power of hero worship."
If only she could close her mind to any doubt and fling herself into his arms, where she was aching to be.
"Except for the lie about riding, you're the most honest woman I've ever met," Bram told her. "Wrong-headed but honest."
"So are you. Honest, I mean. Not feeding me any lies about wonderful tomorrows or everlasting love. Amazing in a man."
"Here's my take. We want each other. Neither of us can tell now what will happen after that, if anything. You're afraid to find out. I'm not."
"I came out here to search for treasure that probably doesn't exist," she said. "I never dreamed I'd run into you."
"What you'll find--besides me, and I'm no treasure--all depends on how you define the word. I keep trying to teach Davis treasure isn't necessarily something tangible."
"That's a difficult concept for a kid. I hope he won't be too disappointed."
"Don't underestimate your son's intelligence. And don't underestimate your own courage, either." After a pause he added, "It's time for me to kiss you goodnight and send you to your tent."
Before she could object, he leaned to her and captured her mouth with his. Instead of the fiery passion of their first kiss, this one was soft and gentle. But under the sweetness lay a throbbing current of need that she sensed in him, even as she felt it herself.
He pulled away. "Dream of me," he ordered.
As Vala undressed in her tent and crawled into her sleeping bag, his command echoed in her mind. I won't, she told herself firmly. Isn't it enough he's invaded my every thought? I refuse to let him into my dreams.
Unfortunately, once she was asleep, she couldn't command her unconscious mind....
She and Bram raced across the country on a big Harley, what bikers call a hog. Clinging to him as they flew down a lonesome desert highway, she relished the feel of the wind blowing past. To either side of the road, bright patches of red dotted the barrenness--flowers of the ocotillo, she knew, bloomed in May.
But this wasn't May--was it?
She brushed away the sense of wrongness. What could be more right than fleeing with Bram on his bike?
Fleeing? From what?
Unease threatened her contentment. Was there something important she'd forgotten? Left behind? Yet what could be more important than Bram?
He was taking her away from loneliness, from boredom, taking them into a fantasy realm of happiness for just the two of them. Once they reached this fabulous spot, he'd wrap his arms around her and never let her go. They'd never return, the two of them would dwell forever in that magic place.
If only this feeling she was forgetting something would vanish she'd be blissfully happy...
Chapter 6
When Vala awoke in the morning, the dream was still haunting her. It took her a few moments to realize that Davis wasn't in the tent, which didn't alarm her. On this trip he'd almost always been up and about before she roused. As she dressed, she thought about the dream and suddenly realized Davis hadn't been in it, any more than he was in the tent. He was what she'd left behind. Something she'd never do.
Shaking her head, she emerged from the tent and glanced around. The day was fair and slightly cool. Neither Davis nor Bram were in sight. Undisturbed--Davis was in good company--she poured herself a cup of coffee and sipped at it while she breathed in the fresh mountain air.
When, from behind her, Bram said, "Good morning," she almost dropped the cup in her startlement.
"You scared me half to death, sneaking up behind me like that," she accused.
"Not intentional. Davis sleeping in?"
She gaped at him for a moment, belatedly aware her son was still nowhere in sight. "He wasn't with you?"
Bram shook his head. "Haven't seen him at all this morning. You mean he's not in the tent?"
"No!"
As one they turned to look at the horses. All four were still tethered. Davis hadn't taken any of them.
"He's lost!" Vala cried. "He's lost up here with poisonous snakes and lizards all around. He could have fallen off a cliff or..."
"Calm down." Bram told her. "Where we are now there are no cliffs he could fall off. And he knows about poisonous reptiles. My guess is he went exploring while he was waiting for us to get up."
"But you sleep outside. You must have seen him."
"I slept later than usual."
"Do something, can't you?" she demanded. "My son's lost on this cactus-infested mountain and you stand there telling me to calm down." She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Davis!"
An echo was the only reply.
"We've got to find him before it's too late," she said. "I'll go this way and you go that." She started off.
His hand gripped her arm, stopping her. "I run this outfit." His voice was flat and hard. "I give the orders. We don't split up. I repeat, we do not split up. First thing you know there'd be two lost people instead of one. And I don't mean me."
Panic rose in Vala. Wasn't he going to do anything? "He's only nine," she reminded him.
"Davis has been to summer camps. And he's listened to my reminders of what to do if you get lost. It may take a little time, but we'll find him."
"Your reminders!" She flung the words at him. "I can barely recall whatever advice you gave. If I was lost and scared I wouldn't remember a word."
"Davis isn't you. I have faith in the kid." He knelt, eased something from a pack and slid it into his pocket. "Okay, follow me and we'll do a widening circle search. He can't be far off."
"Then why didn't he answer me when I called him?" she demanded as she trotted after him, trying to keep up with his long strides.
"Sounds carry differently in the mountains." He shouted Davis's name. Again, nothing.
"It's all your fault," she said, beside herself with worried apprehension. What if Davis was lying somewhere hurt?
"It's no one's fault. Davis got an early start, maybe on purpose, while I wasn't awake to see him take off from camp."
"What do you mean on purpose?"
"That early, neither of us was around to stop him and so he probably figured it was an ideal time to go look for the bear. Kids always think they can find their way back. For him it'll be a lesson learned the hard way."
"He must be scared to death. And maybe hurt."
"Don't borrow trouble."
Easy for him to say, she thought resentfully as they started another, wider circling. Davis wasn't his son. She called Davis's name again, the uncaring echo sending a shiver down her spine. She pictured him rushing this way and that and getting more and more lost as he moved farther and farther away from the camp.
As if reading her mind, Bram took care of that scenario by saying, "He won't be far away. Once he realizes he's lost, he'll stop and stay in one spot."
Vala remembered that not moving was one of the things Bram had emphasized. But how could he expect a scared kid to dredge that up?
"Davis!" Bram bellowed.
Mixed in with the echo, Vala thought she heard something else. "Listen!" she cried.
"I hear him." Bram stopped and turned his head in one direction, then the other. "That way," he said, pointing. They found Davis with tear-stained cheeks, huddled against a rock. But when Vala rushed to hug him, he backed away, warning, "Don't touch me. I'm full of stickers."
She held, belatedly noticing the cactus spines sticking through his clothes. "Oh, my poor b--" She caught herself before "baby" slipped past and humiliated him. "Poor Davis," she said.
"I did what you said," Davis told Bram. "I stayed put." He sniffed and wiped his face with a grimy hand. "I should've stopped where I was sooner but I got scared about being lost and that's how come I stumbled into the cactus."
"You're a brave kid," Bram said. "Not everyone would have calmed down
and remembered to stay in one place. Especially after getting stabbed with all those spines." He pulled a pair of pliers from his pocket. "Brought these along, just in case."
Most of the spines were on the backs of Davis's legs and in his behind so Vala was able to let him lean against her while Bram went to work.
"They all have to come out or they fester," Bram warned. "And it'll hurt when I yank them free, can't help that. You can yell if you want, nobody around to hear but me and your mom and we know it's painful. I'd yell if someone was doing this to me."
"Screaming's more my style," Vala put in, knowing the worst thing she could do for Davis was to start weeping over the pain he must be feeling, pain that would get worse while the spines were being pulled out.
She steeled herself not to wince as Bram gripped the first one with the jaws of the pliers.
"Ow!" Davis cried as Bram yanked it out.
By the time every spine had been pulled from his skin, Davis was unabashedly crying. Vala gathered him into her arms, being careful not to touch the sore spots.
Bram, hunkered down to the boy's level, put a hand on his shoulder and murmured, "You did good, partner."
After a time, Davis pushed away from Vala and swiped a hand across his face. "It hurt a lot," he muttered.
"Yup," Bram agreed. "What we have to do next is get you to Pauline's. It's not far, but you'll have to walk. Think you're up to it?"
About to ask why they couldn't ride, Vala realized Davis must be too sore to sit on a horse.
"I guess so," Davis said uncertainly. "Who's Pauline?" "She's a Superstition Mountain hermit, and not the only one around, either. Lucky for us, she knows me and will let us in because she's a medicine woman and can help those spine stab wounds of yours heal a lot faster than they would otherwise."
"They won't hurt so much?"
"You got it. So if you can make it to Pauline's, you'll soon be feeling better."
Back at the camp, Bram and Vala stowed the gear and, with each of them leading two horses, with Davis they picked their way on foot up a rocky slope and into a wide crevasse. Set into the crevasse was a rickety-looking cabin perched on a bed of boulders.