Ladies Love Rock Stars: Taming the Bad Boys of Rock and Roll

by D'Ann Lindun

  Montana stopped and turned to face him. “This is the start of Hanging Bridge. Let’s eat first so we’re not shaky.”

  He suspected her need to eat was more a stalling tactic than concern about low blood sugar, but he nodded. “Sounds good.”

  She removed the scabbard from her shoulder and sat on the trail, crossing her legs Indian style. “I’m starving.”

  “I could eat a bear.” Johnny laid his gun aside, opened the saddlebags and pulled out their lunches. “But I’ll settle for a ham sandwich.”

  Montana’s hand shook when she took the sandwich from him. Johnny covered her free hand with his. “It’s going to be all right. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She managed a wry smile. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say to you?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  After lunch, Montana stood and lifted her rifle. The snow had intensified to a full-blown blizzard. Although not afraid of most things, she hated heights. The Hanging Bridge was one of her worst fears, but the horses on the other side of the valley left them no choice but to cross the granite shelf shadowed by a sheer drop-off on both sides. The trail left little room for error.

  Death by freezing or death by falling. Neither sounded good to her.

  She looked at Johnny. “Watch where you step and be careful.”

  He gave her a cocky grin. “Got it.”

  On shaking legs, Montana turned toward the cliff.

  Trying to control her trembling, she took a first step onto the narrow granite wall. This high, the wind had cleared the trail, making it easy to see. Keeping her gaze on the ground in front of her, she took one slow step after another. Swirling gusts buffeted her, pounding hard. The high-pitched whine stretched her nerves tight.

  The length of the rock formation was only about five hundred feet, but it seemed more like five thousand. Refusing to look over either edge, she inched forward. Sweat trickled down her back and along her hairline. Her breath came in short gasps. A pebble under her foot rolled and she slipped a little.

  “Damn it.”

  Johnny said near her ear, “You’re okay.”

  With a stiff nod, she continued.

  A sudden blast of wind hit them so hard it spun Montana sideways. A scream ripped out of her throat and she windmilled her arms.

  As if in slow motion, she saw the valley floor and the cliffs closing in on her.

  Terror closed her throat and she couldn’t breathe. She was going to die on the boulders below.

  Johnny grabbed her coat and hauled her back against his solid body. He wrapped his arms around her upper chest. “I got you.” He turned her and hugged her in the safety of his arms. “Shhh, baby. You’re safe.”

  She nodded, unable to speak. Another gust of wind rocked them and Montana held onto Johnny for dear life. Finally, she managed to force words out of her tight throat. “We have to get off this ridge before we fall and end up as mincemeat.”

  “Hold onto my coat and follow me. We’re only a hundred feet from the end of this thing.” He released her. “Hang tight and don’t let go.”

  “Okay.” Montana did as he instructed.

  With a death grip on his coat, she allowed him to lead her across the pass. Solid as a hundred-year-old pine tree, Johnny braced against the wind. Like a pair of dancers, they moved in unison until the trail widened and dropped into the pines.

  Once they were safe, Johnny spun around and again took Montana in his arms. She shook like a leaf, allowing him to support her. His strong arms held her upright while her legs wobbled.

  “I’m sorry,” she said against his chest. “I hate that place.”

  “No worries.” He drew back a little and looked into her eyes. “You’re the bravest woman I know.”

  “I about lost it out there.”

  “But you didn’t.” He smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek.

  She gazed at him with all her love for him shining in her eyes. “Thanks to you.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “Don’t read too much into it, baby. I would have done the same for anyone.”

  Stunned, Montana pulled free of his embrace. “Got it. Let’s go.”

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  Montana’s heart thumped along with the chorus in her head. How could she have let Johnny see her emotions like that? The fear? Her love for him? She’d lost his respect all the way around. Not only could he not follow a guide who lost it in a bad situation, he now knew she loved him.

  Anger at both of them filled her—toward him for being such a jerk, and her for being foolish to fall in love.

  The next couple of days were going to be rough.

  As they dropped along the canyon wall, the storm didn’t seem quite as fierce. The wind didn’t push so hard here and the spinning snowflakes were less than on the ridge. Somehow, though, for Montana it seemed colder. Grayer.

  She suspected the days until her heart recovered were going to be dreary and long.

  In the meantime she had to pick up her chin and remember not to let Johnny glimpse her bare feelings again.

  As they began to wind up the steep hillside on the other side of the valley, Montana lengthened her stride. When she got hold of Tom, she was going to kill him with her bare hands. She had a hard time believing he would do something so malicious as to take their horses. But who else would?

  She couldn’t think of a soul.

  Where were Charlie and Evan?

  Their mother was one of Montana’s closest friends and her sons were close to her, too. They would never condone such an act. Tom might be their buddy, but they loved Montana and wouldn’t ever allow Tom to do her physical harm.

  Neither had seemed to dislike Johnny either. They had no reason to find a problem with him. Their friendship with Tom was not enough to turn their eyes away while he took Montana’s horses.

  None of this made a lick of sense.

  A neigh rang out over the mountains, echoing among the peaks like a church bell. Montana picked up her pace, eager to see her animals.

  At a wide spot in the trail, she spotted the two horses and mule tied under a copse of large pine trees. She hurried to them, petting their necks and checking legs for any injuries. Everything seemed fine.

  Until she looked at their halters.

  Each had been buckled on the right side of the head, not the left as they should be. She ran her fingers under the nylon strap, observing the strange fit.

  “Johnny, look.” She indicated the halters. “These are backwards.”

  “So?”

  She glanced his way. “Someone put these on who didn’t know what they were doing. Tom wouldn’t do this. He’s been riding all his life. He knows how to halter a horse.”

  “Maybe he placed them wrong to throw us off,” Johnny suggested.

  “Maybe.” But she didn’t think so.

  Johnny moved away and began scouting the ground.

  “What are you looking for?” Montana unbuckled the backwards halter on Sunflower and placed it correctly on the little palomino. She moved to the dun, then the mule, and corrected their tack, too.

  “Hoof prints.”

  She moved beside him. “See any?”

  He pointed. “There. The same ones with the broken toe like we saw up above.”

  “Yeah. They’re identical.” Montana walked back to the horses and scanned the area around them, looking for footprints, but the restless horses had churned up the earth. “I don’t see any human tracks here though.”

  “How much lead do you suppose that asshole has on us?” Johnny stared down the valley.

  Montana shrugged. “No idea. It depends on when he took the horses, how fast he’s moving alone…a lot of things.”

  “He better be hauling ass.”

  Montana untied the dun and looped the lead rope to the halter, making a rein. “Can you ride bareback?”

  Johnny’s trademark grin flashed across his face. “I’ve been known to a time or two.”

  Ignoring the flutt
er in her stomach, Montana indicated the horse. “Get on. I’ll hold your rifle until you’re set.”

  Johnny handed her his gun and the saddlebags and swung onto the horse like he’d been doing it all his life.

  Montana handed him his items, along with her gun. “Hold these until I get on, okay?”

  “No problem.”

  Montana jumped onto her horse and leaned over to untie the mule from the tree. She unsnapped his lead, leaving on his halter. He’d follow them home.

  After coiling the rope, she stuffed it into her coat pocket and took the scabbard back from Johnny. With a touch of her heels, she turned Sunflower toward camp. It wasn’t far, less than an hour’s ride.

  She had one night left with Johnny.

  After everything that had happened, she was sure he would want to leave early. But it was too late tonight. By the time they reached camp, it would be mid-afternoon and Montana still had to return to the Marshes’ cabin to retrieve their saddles.

  She sighed. Another long day and night ahead.

  Hopefully Johnny would stay at their camp while she went back for their saddles and sleeping bags. If she put a little distance between them, maybe she could gain some perspective and not be in a constant state of upheaval.

  To have a little dignity in front of him before he went home was her main goal at this point. He’d seen her naked, both physically and emotionally. She couldn’t bear him seeing more unrequited love. If she weren’t careful she’d end up in one of his songs as the latest fool who fell for the rock star.

  ~*~

  Montana reined in at the edge of the meadow and stared in disbelief. “Damn.”

  “Fuck!” The word shot out of Johnny’s mouth like a bullet.

  After sliding from Sunflower’s back, Montana walked forward. Johnny, still mounted, followed.

  Their camp had been strewn across the meadow like trash. It looked like a tornado had torn through everything. The big cook tent lay upside down near the hot springs. The smaller one had been shredded and came to rest against the copse of aspen trees at the edge of the pasture. Coolers lay open, their contents scattered everywhere. Shannon’s Dutch oven, canned goods, tin plates and silverware looked like they had been flung by a lunatic. A light dusting of snow lay over everything.

  What was left of their food was so badly mangled it wasn’t edible. Scavengers had dragged away most of it, but a pair of camp robber birds sat enjoying a loaf of bread.

  “Did that bear we saw the other day do this?” Johnny looked as disgusted as Montana felt.

  “I don’t think so.” She stopped and turned in a slow circle. “This looks more like an act of rage than a bear looking for a meal.”

  Johnny slid down from Gunsmoke. “Your ex capable of this sort of destruction?”

  Faced with irrefutable evidence, Montana nodded. “I guess so. I just can’t believe he would do any of this. He used to be a womanizer, but this makes no sense. He doesn’t care enough about me to go to these lengths.”

  “And they talk about rock stars trashing hotel rooms.” Johnny shook his head. “The guy’s fucked up.”

  “I may never find everything.” Despair began to crawl over Montana. This entire hunt had been one disaster after another—Adrian’s illness, the missing horses and now this.

  “Sure you will. We’ve got all day.”

  Montana managed a grim smile. “And night, I guess.”

  “I might have other plans for tonight.” Johnny wiggled his eyebrows, making Montana’s heart do a twist and turn. Although conditions might not be ideal, she still had one last evening with him.

  Just keep it light, she reminded herself.

  Though Johnny didn’t want her to depend on him, she was quickly learning to turn in his direction when things got tough. She spun away and led Sunflower toward the hitch rail. “I can make hobbles out of halter ropes.”

  She fixed the ropes around the three equines’ legs and turned them loose to graze. With a sigh, she looked around. “I don’t know where to start,” she admitted. “The cook tent, I guess.”

  Together, she and Johnny walked to the big tent. Montana cursed when she bent and grabbed a corner. Not only had the tent been torn from the platform and dragged through snow and mud, it had been shredded as if ripped apart with a knife. There was no salvaging it.

  Leaving the destroyed tent where it lay, they moved to the smaller sleep tent. Someone had treated it in a similar fashion. She sank to her haunches and lifted a corner. “I don’t know how I’m going to replace these. They cost a fortune.”

  “I’ll buy you new ones,” Johnny said. “Whatever you want.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Montana protested. “It’s not your responsibility.” Her heart thudded painfully. Was he buying her off? A gift for a good time? “I should give you a refund for all the troubles you’ve had.”

  He laughed rich and deep. “Holy shit, woman. I’ve had the time of my life here. I haven’t had this much fun in forever. Besides, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t opened my mouth and pissed off somebody.” He grinned evilly. “I’m good at that.”

  She couldn’t disagree with him. Right now she’d have liked to slug him in the gut.

  “It’s not your problem. I’m not your problem, remember?” She took a shuddering breath, pushed her angry thoughts away and looked around at her things scattered to hell and back. “I better get busy. It’s not getting any earlier.” She stood and grabbed one of the blue coolers. “I’ll put dishes and silverware in this one.”

  Johnny chose another cooler. “I’ll look for any food that’s edible.”

  “Even if it isn’t good we can’t leave it lying around, or we’ll have a bear down here for a picnic.” She spotted a package of trash bags and tossed them his way.

  He caught the box. “Speaking of food, how about I build a fire and we make coffee?”

  Coffee sounded wonderful. “Good plan. I’ll see if I can find grounds and the pot.”

  They walked in circles searching the debris.

  Montana lifted a baggie in triumph. “Here’s the grounds.”

  “I see the coffeepot.” Johnny picked it up and made his way toward the plywood floors—about the only thing not destroyed—where he set down the pot and gathered rocks.

  Seeing he planned to make a fire ring near the floors, Montana jumped to help. In a few minutes a fire blazed. Montana added a few bottles of water and grounds to the charred coffeepot.

  While the coffee boiled, they continued to work. Montana’s throat tightened when she found the mug that had been her dad’s. What would he think of this whole mess? He would have her back. He always had. Although he might raise a brow at the man she’d fallen for, he’d support her.

  She carried the cup to the fire and poured steaming coffee into it, rinsed and re-filled. Johnny joined her with his own cup and filled it.

  “I think I’ve rounded up all the food. You finding your stuff?”

  “Yeah.” She sipped, sighing as the hot liquid hit her stomach. “Most of it. We’re going to have to leave anything I’ve missed though. It’s getting late.” She drank again. “It’s a long ride to the trailhead and another ten miles to the ranch after that. We’re talking about an all-nighter.”

  For once Johnny didn’t make a crack about being up all night. Maybe he was as bone tired as her. “What about your stuff back at the cabin? Wouldn’t it be closer to go there?”

  Montana nodded. “It is, but it’s snowing up high—”

  “Then my vote is to go to the cabin and get your stuff before it gets snowed in,” Johnny said. “We can eat something, get a good night’s sleep and ride out early tomorrow.”

  He made sense.

  Although she didn’t need her saddles or bedrolls until spring, leaving them didn’t sit well with her. Neither did riding back into the face of the storm.

  However, they had to do something. Staying here with no shelter wasn’t an option. Although she just wanted him to leave so she c
ould begin to try to forget him, the shorter ride swayed her. Montana tossed the last bit of coffee onto the fire. “Cabin it is.”

  Johnny rose and began stacking coolers on the plywood floors while Montana hurried to catch the horses. By the time he tugged the blue tarp over the mounds of coolers and stoves, she had the horses haltered and ready to go.

  With a weary sigh, Montana mounted her palomino. She held their weapons while Johnny swung aboard Gunsmoke. This time the mule didn’t want to go and Montana had to lead him.

  Busy urging the tired, reluctant horse to go back up the mountain, and dragging an even less enthusiastic mule behind her, Montana didn’t notice Sunflower’s unease until he flicked his ears and snorted soft little blows through his nose.

  Reining in, Montana looked around. In the pines, with dark closing in, the environment creeped her out a little. They were close to the place they’d spotted the bear. She placed a hand on Sunflower’s neck. “What’s bothering you?”

  “Something wrong?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Johnny. “Sunflower’s nervous. I think that bear might be around.”

  “Shouldn’t they be hibernating by now?” He reached for his scabbard slung across his back. “Are we in danger?”

  “He’s late to den up, but I don’t think we’re in harm’s way. Still, let’s move out of here.” She tapped the horse’s sides with her heels. This time the mule didn’t drag his hooves and moved right along when Montana tugged his lead rope.

  Paying attention now, Montana began scouting for tracks. She kept her eye on the ground, looking for bear signs, although it was somewhat futile under the inch of snow. A bear wasn’t likely to attack, but she wasn’t willing to surprise a grumpy creature to find out.

  At the edge of a small stream, more of a trickle, she found what she’d been looking for—a set of large bear tracks pressed into the mud.

  “Our bear was here,” she told Johnny.

  “He still is.” Johnny pointed.