by D'Ann Lindun
“Good.” Johnny felt like he’d run a marathon, but a huge weight had also just lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t know what he expected, but relief filled him that his friends hadn’t balked at his suggestions. Joel’s reluctance didn’t surprise him; his manager was always hesitant to spend money. Most times that made Johnny very happy.
This time he wanted to spend whatever it took to make the CD successful. If it took everything he had, so be it. A lot of his fans had drifted away after the release of Heartbeat. Worse, radio had refused to play any of their releases. Rock fans had said he’d gone country; the country stations thought him too rock. He was determined to bring them all back.
For a while, he’d lost his mind with his grief over Teal and Keifer. But that cloud had finally lifted and he could see clearly now. If he followed up his love song album with another country sounding although angry break-up record, he realized he might as well run off the last of his fans with a stick. They wanted to hear him sing his signature dirty white boy tunes. If he wanted to change direction, he needed to do it a little slower. Spoon feed his listeners, not force it down their throats with a knife and fork.
He’d never planned to become a country artist. Rock-n-roll was more his style. When he looked back, he realized he had made an abrupt left turn with no signal light. It was no wonder his fans got pissed. Hell, he would have been mad, too.
The band had tried to tell him, but he’d overruled them.
Hopefully it wasn’t too late to turn things around.
~*~
Shannon dried the last dish and stored it. “What do you think they’re talking about?”
Montana shrugged. “Who knows?”
“Music?” Ryan guessed.
“Probably. I have no idea,” Montana said. What happened in Johnny’s personal life was none of her business. Best if she remembered that. “We should discuss tomorrow. There’s a lot of food here. Too much for two people so take most of it. I don’t want it to spoil.”
“Will you be okay here without Ryan and me?” Shannon asked. “You’ll have a lot on your plate with both guiding and cooking.”
“It’s only two people,” she said. “I can manage.”
“The food, yeah. But can you hold off Johnny with his constant come-ons?” Shannon asked point blank. “Because Ryan could come back to guide…”
“I’ll be fine.” Montana squirmed under the scrutiny of her two close friends. “I can handle Johnny.”
“He’s hoping you’ll handle him,” Shannon muttered.
Ryan chuckled. “A blind man could pick up on that one.”
“Stop,” Montana said. “Nothing’s going to happen. He’s here to hunt. I’m going to guide him.”
“He’s hunting a conquest,” Ryan said. “I haven’t said anything because you’re a grown woman, but the dude is determined to get you in bed.”
Montana flushed. “I’m just as determined he’s not.”
Ryan pointed at Shannon. “You’re no different, except the person after you is female.”
“Adrian’s nice,” Shannon said. “But I’m not gay. She knows that.”
Ryan snorted. “Knows it or not, she’s hot for you.”
“You’re just jealous.” Shannon glared at him. “Because the girl isn’t all over you.”
“Right. That’s it.” He got up and pulled on his coat with jerky movements. “I give up. You’re both going to get hurt. I’m going to say ‘I told you so’ now so I won’t have to when it happens. Right now, I’m going to check the horses.” He vanished into the dark.
For a few minutes they sat in stunned silence. Ryan never butted into their love lives. Usually, he went in the complete opposite direction, running when any mention of relationships came up around him.
“What the hell brought that on?” Shannon frowned. “My brother is losing his mind.”
“We both know he’s not,” Montana said quietly.
Shannon shook her head. “I’m not having an affair with Adrian. Are you having one with Johnny?”
“Not yet.”
Sinking into the chair nearest the fire, Shannon stared at her. “So you’re going for it?”
“I don’t know,” Montana said truthfully. “I almost went all crazy today and jumped him, but we were in the woods and he said he wasn’t going to do me against a tree like a bear.”
“Just keep what I said in mind.” Shannon poured them both a cup of coffee and added a slug of Kahlua.
Montana took a mug and sipped the hot, sweet concoction. “I know.”
“Just don’t fall in love,” Shannon warned. “Whatever you do.”
“No worries.” Montana laughed, but her heart twisted into a tight knot. Why did the guy have to be unattainable? Not to mention one who would never be faithful? She was way too attracted to him. Falling in love would be easy…if she allowed herself.
Montana stood. “We better pack some of the food. I didn’t leave much at home. It’s a shame that Adrian has gotten sick and missed out on her hunt.”
Working together, they loaded most of the groceries, leaving only basics. Montana hadn’t been kidding when she told Johnny cooking wasn’t her strong suit. When she was growing up, she and her dad had survived on simple but filling meals. He’d liked simple and she’d never had the urge to do more or learn how to fix anything fancy.
Ryan slipped back inside the tent and brushed snow off his coat. “It’s really coming down out there.”
“How much?” Montana asked.
“A lot.” He removed his hat and outerwear. “I have a feeling getting out tomorrow is going to be a real bitch.”
“Great. I thought I might go back up to Windy Peak and see if I could spot the bull Johnny shot at. But if the snow’s too deep, I won’t risk it.”
“I wouldn’t. I’d go lower. The storm will drive the elk down anyway.” He took a seat and glanced at the packed grub boxes. “This ready to go?”
“Yeah. Bring the mules back to pack out on Saturday, okay?”
“No problem.”
“I’ll come, too,” Shannon promised.
“I bet Rose would like to ride along if the weather’s decent,” Montana suggested, remembering how her friend had made her promise an introduction to Johnny. A little ripple of jealousy crimped her stomach. Ridiculous. Rose was welcome to him.
“I’ll call her.” Shannon looked around. “Except for packing our sleeping bags in the morning, I think that’s everything.”
Montana wondered what Rose would think if she knew Montana had been kissed by the rock star, not once, but twice.
She’d love it.
Like Shannon, she’d tell Montana to go for it and live a little. She’d lectured a million times to not let Tom steal her future. Trouble was there was no future in Johnny Cortez.
Montana sighed. No matter how many times she tried to rearrange it, the picture always looked the same—gray as the snow clouds outside.
The tent door slipped open and Johnny, Stoney and Joel all came inside. Like Ryan, they were covered in snow.
“Fuck, it’s a mess out there,” Johnny said. “A perfect night for a campfire, a hot toddy and some song.” He winked at Shannon. “And a little pussy to top it off.”
She giggled.
Montana’s panties dampened at the thought.
In what had already become routine, they took their seats and poured drinks. Montana had never drunk so much in her life as she had in the last few days with this group of people. Did they ever do anything without alcohol?
Ryan picked up his guitar. “I’m game for a song.”
Stoney reached for the instrument. “Do you mind if I borrow that for a minute?” When Ryan shook his head and released the guitar, Stoney began to strum the strings. “Remember this old tune, Cowboy? I think it might be just the ticket for what you want to do.” He began to sing a fast lyric about a man who loved all the ladies and couldn’t stick with just one.
Montana began thumping her knee with her hand. The
tune, a little raunchy, was catchy. On the bridge, Ryan joined Stoney, their voices blending surprisingly well. Sneaking a look at Johnny, Montana saw a man who listened intently with his eyes half closed, his attention entirely on the music. All signs of the jokester, the guy with one thing on his mind, disappeared. In his place was a man serious about what he did.
After the song finished, Stoney strummed a few bars. “What do you think, Cowboy?”
“I like that one.” Johnny looked at the guides. “What did you think?”
“Loved it,” Ryan enthused.
Shannon nodded. “Me, too.”
“Montana?” Johnny actually seemed to care what she thought.
“It’s good,” she told him. Not her normal thing, but the song had caught her imagination.
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“Is it on a CD?” she asked.
“Not yet, but we’re considering it for the one coming out.” He turned his attention toward Stoney. “I think that one would be a good choice. See what the rest of the band says, okay?”
Ryan reached for his guitar. “Have you ever heard this one?” He began to sing a raunchy, off-color limerick.
On the second verse, Johnny added his voice, echoing Ryan’s words. Montana sat spellbound. She knew he had to be talented to make it in the music business, but hearing his voice up close and personal made her not only a believer, but a true fan. She could see what made girls go all goofy around him.
Ryan stopped singing with a laugh. “Maybe that one could make your next CD.”
“Maybe.” Johnny chuckled. “My fans would love it.”
“It was dirty enough for most of them,” Stoney said.
“That’s what I love about your music,” Ryan told him. “The raunchy songs. The way you straight out say what you think. Your music speaks to me like no one else’s.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.” Johnny glanced at Stoney. “Exactly what I was talking about earlier. The fans like a certain sound, which I lost sight of for a while.”
“The chicks really dig your music,” Ryan said.
Shooting a glance between Montana and Shannon, Johnny raised a brow. “That true?”
“I love it as much as Ryan does,” Shannon agreed.
“You must have plenty of girls who are fans.” Montana struggled to find a way to not totally offend him. But she didn’t like his filthy lyrics very much.
Johnny laughed. “I can tell you’re not one of them, Montana.”
She fidgeted. “Not so much.”
He placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me.”
“Sorry.”
“You loved the one from Heartbeat,” Shannon reminded her. Rocker Man’s Woman.”
“That’s true. I did like that one a lot.” She smiled at Johnny, hoping she hadn’t insulted him too much.
“From the country CD,” he said. “The flop.”
Ryan began to play an old Hank Williams tune, Jambalaya. “Know this one?”
“You bet,” Johnny said. “One of my dad’s favorites.”
They all began to sing—amateur and professional—voices raised in the joy of music. One song led to another, everything from country classics to rock’n’roll. The harmony wasn’t perfect, but no one seemed to care. Even Joel loosened up a little and joined in, his voice surprisingly good.
Finally Ryan set his guitar aside. “I need to piss.”
In the ensuing silence, Montana looked at Johnny. “You didn’t come here to work.”
“Are you kidding?” Johnny chuckled. “This is like candy for us. What do you think we do when we’re off? We sit around and jam.”
Stoney nodded. “Yup.”
Now that reality had settled in, Montana was embarrassed by her uninhibited wailing. “We’re not professionals like you and Stoney. We just like to sing.”
“I’m not an expert hunter. Doesn’t mean I can’t do it or enjoy it,” Johnny said. “So sing your heart out. I like your voices. In fact, you could all be professionals with a little training.”
Montana blushed. “Thank you.”
“Wow,” Shannon said. “That’s high praise.”
“I mean it.” He looked between the women with a guarded expression. “You’ve got talent.”
Joel began to say something, but a strong look from Johnny shut him up.
“Well, there aren’t any worries about me leaving home to head west and try and make my fortune in the music biz. I know my limitations.” Montana pointed at Shannon. “Her, on the other hand…”
Shannon snorted. “Right. Like that’s ever going to happen.”
Johnny seemed to relax a fraction and he smiled. “Let’s sing. Stoney, how about another one?”
The guitarist reached for the six string. “You got it.”
Not sure what had just happened, Montana felt like she’d passed some kind of test. Did Johnny think she was going to jump on him the minute he said she could sing and beg him to make her a star? If he did, he didn’t know her at all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Shortly after eight a.m., Montana and Ryan hustled around, loading mules and saddling horses, including Sunflower and Gunsmoke. Montana and Johnny planned to leave camp at the same time as the others, but in the opposite direction.
The overnight storm had blown over, leaving brilliant blue skies and about a foot of snow on the ground. Although the sun shone brightly, the temperature had dipped below freezing and snow crunched underfoot. With every breath the horses and mules exhaled, frosty plumes hung in the air.
Johnny came from his tent, pulling on a pair of gloves. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. But you do need your sleeping bag and a change of clothes. We won’t be staying here tonight. The trip is too long to come back today,” she said. “My friends have a cabin where we’ll be staying.”
A slow, sexy grin slid across his face. “Great.”
He turned to retrieve his things. She watched him stride away, realizing the coming night would be a trial of wills between them.
Who would win?
Which would lose?
Her heart stampeded at the thought of it being her.
When Ryan moved toward the women’s quarters, Montana stopped him. “What are you doing?”
“You don’t need three structures now. It makes more sense for you and Johnny to sleep in the cook tent. Easier to keep the fire going in one. I already moved your cot and clothes over there.” Ryan untied the first rope.
Johnny walked up with his duffle and sleeping bags. He placed both in the right pannier on a small black mule. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
Montana shivered at the thought of him sleeping in the same room with her. “No. Don’t tear down the second tent. I want my own space for dressing and stuff.”
Ryan shrugged. “Okay.”
For once, Johnny didn’t make a comment about combined body heat. Thank God. She was already a bundle of nerves without his sexual innuendos adding to her anxiety.
The three of them dismantled the men’s canvas structure, folded it and placed it on the back of one of the sorrel mules. The plywood floor and little stove remained as a lonely monument to where the tent had been. When Ryan and Shannon came back at the end of the week, they would take them then.
The quartered elk was stowed in panniers on one of the mules, with the trophy head perched on top of the load in silent vigil.
Joel and Stoney appeared from inside the cook tent, carrying their gear. Shannon also came out lugging duffle bags belonging to her and Adrian. She hurried back to the tent, returning with their rifles, which she secured to their saddles.
After quickly stowing the luggage inside panniers hanging from the patient mules, Montana and Ryan double checked for anything left behind. Not that it mattered all that much; anything missed would be picked up on the next trip.
“I guess that’s it.” Montana glanced at her friend. “You ready?”
“As soon as we eat,” Ryan said.
&n
bsp; They headed for the cook tent. Steam from the coffeepot and a pan of boiling water for dishes warmed the room. The scent of biscuits and sausage gravy filled the air.
Stoney and Joel had already begun breakfast, sitting in their usual spots. Adrian huddled near the fire, wrapped in a blanket.
Montana touched Adrian’s shoulder. “How you doing? You up to riding?”
“I’ll manage.”
“Take it easy. If you need to rest along the way, don’t hesitate to tell Ryan to stop.” Montana filled a cup with coffee and sipped. Taking Adrian out was the right choice. The sooner she got medical attention, the better. Although not critical, she was very ill.
After they filled their plates and settled into chairs, Ryan spoke. “Which way are you going today, Montana? Still thinking Windy Peak?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to chance crossing Hanging Bridge today because it’s probably slick. I think we’ll circle around the backside to Miner’s Point instead.”
“Good plan.” Ryan nodded his approval. “You going to stay at Marshe’s cabin?”
“Yeah.” Her heart thudded at the thought of being alone in the small structure with Johnny. She fought to focus. “Be careful going down. Although I don’t think you have anything to worry about since the storm blew over.”
“Nah, it’s an easy ride on a clear day.” Ryan stood, dropped his plate in the dishpan and tugged on his coat and gloves. “I’m ready when everyone else is.”
Joel stood and poured another cup of coffee. He blew on it, then sipped. “Cowboy, you sure you won’t come, too?”
“No way. I’m staying.” He arched a brow at Montana. “Unless Montana wants me to go?”
“No.” She shook her head. “You still have to bag an elk.”
He winked at her. “My thoughts exactly.”
A shiver danced up and down her spine. Would he make a move the minute the others disappeared? Would she be able to withstand his constant pressure? Did she want to?
“Can I borrow your guitar?” Johnny asked Ryan.
“Sure. No problem.” He pointed to the corner of the tent. “It’s right there.”