by Karen Ball
Fighting a grin of his own, he merely nodded.
“See there, Sasha?” she remarked to the dog walking alongside them. “I told you he was smarter than he looked!”
TWENTY-FOUR
CONTRARY TO HER GLOOMY PREDICTION, TAYLOR WAS AMAZED at how quickly the next three weeks flew by. There was still work to be done on the retreat cabins, as well as brainstorming for retreat activities. And they spent several days riding around the ranch, looking for places for Connor to take his photos. Galloway Glen was exploding with color. From sunflowers to lupine to phlox and wild irises, the meadows were alive with blossoms.
The warm days and the increase in color and fragrance filled Taylor with a renewed appreciation for God’s creative genius. “How can anyone look at this and deny there’s a God?” she said as they stood in her living room, enjoying the view.
Connor shook his head. “You’ve got me. I figure it takes a whole lot more faith to believe this all came about by some cosmic accident than it does to believe in an almighty, all-loving Creator.”
Taylor looked at him, unable to hold back her grin. “Two more days and we get to see the pups!”
“Taylor.” His voice held a gentle but firm warning.
“It’s entirely possible we won’t see Nokomis or the pups. I keep telling you that.”
“We’ll see them.” She knew it was true. She couldn’t explain why, but she was sure of it. “I know we will.”
Connor’s lips tilted in a tender smile, and the warmth she saw there made her tingle. She turned to look out the window again, fully aware that he thought her a daydreaming optimist. But she didn’t care. They were going to see the pups.
“I think I’d like to get some shots of the sunrise tomorrow.” Connor’s words broke into her thoughts.
She turned to him. “Oh, Con! I know the perfect place! But it will mean getting up awfully early. I’d like to go on horseback, and it’s a bit of a ride.”
“No problem!” Connor said, clearly caught up in her enthusiasm.
She just gave him a placid smile. We’ll see about that when 3 A.M. rolls around.
“Connor.”
The soft voice broke into his dreams, trying to coax him away from the comforting darkness. He rolled over and resisted.
“Connor, wake up.”
This time it was accompanied by a slight tugging on his arm. He mumbled something uncomplimentary and pulled the covers over his head.
There was blessed silence for a second, and then a huge THING pounced on him, landing in the middle of his chest and punching him in the stomach. Connor sat up with a roar, and Sasha—who happened to be standing on top of him—quickly jumped off and ran for the hills.
Blinking in the sudden light from the bedside lamp, his mind still fuzzy from sleep, he stared at Taylor in disbelief.
“And a happy good morning to you, too,” she said in response to his glower. “Now, get up. If you want pictures of the sunrise, it’s past time to be on our way.”
She strode from the cabin, and he fell back against the mattress with a groan. He had to admit the idea was far less appealing this morning than it had sounded last night. He threw back the covers, shivering in the cold. Fortunately the camera and equipment he needed were already stowed safely in a large duffel bag. He pulled on his clothes, then hauled the bag outside. He found Taylor in the barn. She already had both horses saddled. He tied the duffel to the back of his saddle.
“All set?” Taylor slid her foot into the stirrup and swung herself into the saddle with a smooth, effortless movement.
“Lead on.” His eyes followed her in the morning darkness as she urged Topaz forward.
They rode in silence, turning east toward the Wind River mountain range.
As he settled into the saddle, Connor found himself studying Taylor, taking in the picture she made. Even in the dim light he could see that she sat upon her horse with a natural ease and grace. Woman and beast moved in a delicate, barely discernible harmony. Topaz was finely tuned to his rider, responding to the merest touch of Taylor’s heels, the slightest lean in the saddle, the barest tug on the reins. As he watched them, Connor wondered what it was like to be so connected to someone … to Taylor.
He shook his head. Was this what being in love did to you? Made you think goofy, flowery thoughts? Heaven help me. Get your mind on your business, Alexander, he scolded himself. You need to think about focus and f-stops, not Taylor—no matter how appealing she may be.
Appealing. That was certainly an appropriate term for Taylor. As was delightful. Captivating. Enchanting. Guileless. Utterly charming—
You’re pathetic! Can’t you think about something else? Anything else!
He focused his attention on the deft manner in which his horse was navigating the woods they had entered, on the stunning scenery surrounding them, on anything but the woman riding in front of him. But his traitorous eyes drifted toward her once again, as though she were too compelling, too magnetic to resist.
The first subdued light of morning glinted off her hair, turning it a rich copper. Her eyes, when she turned to him, shone with excitement; he had the impression she could hardly wait to reveal whatever treasure she had in store.
She was so natural, so beautiful, so filled with grace and a childlike eagerness that watching her brought a lump of emotion to his throat. Every day they spent together, the pull he felt toward her grew stronger; he had the sensation of being carried along on the rapids of a river, terrified and exhilarated all at the same time.
Okay, God, how much longer until I can tell her how I feel?
“We’re here!” Taylor’s triumphant voice broke into his rueful thoughts, and he looked around. They had emerged from the woods and now stood on the edge of a beautiful meadow. Tall grasses swayed in the wind; wildflowers of all kinds and colors created a natural quilt of color and texture. Several tall lodgepole pines stood beside a bubbling stream, which meandered merrily through the meadow. On the opposite side of the stream, 150 feet away, the ground rose to become a small, rocky hill. The grass and flowers gave way at the top of the gradual rise to hard, dirt-packed earth topped with large boulders.
“It’s incredible—” he stared, breathless—“absolutely incredible.”
She beamed at him, pleasure gleaming in her forest-colored eyes. “We can tether the horses to one of the trees and walk over to the hill. You’ll get some great shots of the sunrise behind the trees that way.”
The rising sun was just beginning to tint the sky with brilliant reds and oranges. If he hurried, he could get set up in time to take full advantage of the color changes as the sun came up.
“Let’s do it.” Excitement filled him with energy and anticipation.
They rode to one of the trees on the edge of the creek, dismounted, and secured the horses. Lifting his duffel bag from his horse’s back, he turned and followed Taylor as she leaped from rock to rock to cross the bubbling water and made for the hill. It didn’t take long to reach the summit and locate a good vantage point.
As Connor pulled the tripod, camera, and filters from the bag, setting them up with quick, efficient motions, Taylor perched on a nearby boulder, watching him with interest. It didn’t seem to bother her a bit that he was entirely focused on the task at hand. She seemed content to merely sit and watch.
Amazing. That’s another word that fits. He bent to peer through the viewfinder. Independent, confident, his mind went on as he reached forward to adjust the focus. Creative, adventurous—
It hit him like a sharp slap that he’d done it again, gotten caught up in his fascination with the woman who was watching him. He heaved a heavy, defeated sigh, resting his forehead against the camera.
“Connor, are you okay?”
Taylor’s question brought his head up, and he turned to look at her.
No. Definitely not.
“Sure, I’m fine. Just … thinking.” What a laugh.
She hopped off the boulder. “You’d better start snapping. Yo
u’re running out of sunrise.”
He turned back to the camera, made the needed adjustments, and “started snapping.” The first roll was shot in record time, and he popped it out to replace it. He knelt to the bag and reached inside, then froze.
A low, horrific sound filled the air around them. He lifted startled eyes to Taylor, saw the same alarm on her face that he knew must be reflected on his. It was the most bone-chilling sound Connor had ever heard.
“What in the world …?”
The noise echoed again, and Connor felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. It was unearthly. If Gavin had been with them, Connor was sure the Scotsman would say it was a banshee. Part growl, part scream … the stuff of nightmares.
Suddenly another sound caught Connor’s attention. The horses. They were screaming in fear. Full-blown alarm set Connor’s nerves on edge, and he looked at Taylor, then glanced around cautiously, scanning the area, seeking the source of the ghastly howl.
Nothing. There was nothing there but rocks.
Taylor stepped toward him. “Con, I think we’d better get out of here.”
“I think you’re right.” He grabbed his equipment and started to dismantle it, when Taylor uttered a muffled scream. He spun to look at her. Her face was pale; her eyes wide and staring. He followed her gaze, and felt his mouth go dry.
There, perched on a boulder about thirty-five feet away, was a cougar. Its lips curled back in a threatening snarl, revealing vicious fangs. Tiny, pointed ears lay flat against its round skull, and it crouched with tense, twitching muscles. Its throat rumbled with its banshee scream as it kept its piercing gaze fixed on them.
“God help us.”
Connor echoed Taylor’s desperate whisper. He closed his eyes for a second, the image of his rifle, still in its saddle scabbard, dancing in his mind. He’d been in such a hurry to catch the sunrise, he hadn’t thought to bring it.
He studied the cougar, noting the way it watched them but didn’t advance. If they didn’t challenge it, didn’t move toward it, the big cat shouldn’t come after them. Not unless.
Connor’s throat constricted. He let his eyes scan the area. The rocks around them could house a cave … a den … kits.… He swallowed, the action painful in his suddenly dry throat. If they’d come too close to the cougar’s young, they were in serious trouble.
“We have to get to the horses, Taylor,” Connor told her in a low, hoarse voice. “It’s our only chance.”
She swallowed, then gave a quick, slight nod.
“Step back, hon. Come toward me. Slowly. Carefully.” He watched, his heart pounding in his chest, as she moved. His eyes went from her to the screaming cat and back again. If nothing else, he would put himself between Taylor and the beast. He would do everything he could to give Taylor time to reach Topaz.
When she reached him, he moved as slowly as he dared, positioning himself as a barrier. At his movement, the cougar tensed, as though readying to lunge.
“Mem’ries, all alone in the moonlight …”
Connor jerked a look at Taylor. She was singing!
“What—?” But she just shook her head and kept on. He glanced back at the cougar. It looked about as taken aback as he was.
Connor stepped backward, keeping himself in front of Taylor who kept singing as they moved. The cougar watched them, still angry, still snarling—and, apparently, still flummoxed. It didn’t lunge, didn’t advance. It just watched them with those wrathful, ebony eyes as they eased away.
Suddenly Connor became aware that Taylor was no longer singing lyrics, but was singing to him.
“I’ve heard stories of people stopping grizzlies with songs. It was all I could think of to give us time.”
“Fine, great,” he hissed. “But Cats? What if he hates musicals?”
“It just seemed right.”
After what seemed like an eternity, they finally moved out of the cat’s line of vision. Connor grabbed Taylor’s arm, cutting off her singing abruptly and spinning her around. With a shove he propelled her forward.
“Run!” He didn’t have to order twice. She exploded into action, and they raced down the hill and across the meadow, toward the panicking horses.
God! God, save Taylor! The prayer flew through his mind, over and over. Please, Father, please!
Another horrendous yowl sounded from behind them, and Connor glanced over his shoulder. O Lord, no! The cat was coming, running with an almost careless grace, his long legs loping across the ground after them.
Connor looked ahead. They were about a hundred feet from the creek, and the woods were more than a hundred yards beyond that. The horses were pulling at their restraints frantically, eyes wide with terror.
You and me both, guys! A hysterical laugh bubbling up inside him. He assessed the distance left to safety and his heart sank. They weren’t going to make it.
“Taylor, keep running! No matter what, don’t stop!”
She looked at him in alarm, and he shouted in her face. “RUN!” Without watching to see if she obeyed, he veered off, heading away from the tree where the horses were tied.
Please, God. Let it come after me!
“Connor! No!” Taylor’s scream echoed in his mind, but he didn’t pause. He looked behind only long enough to see what the cougar was doing, and satisfaction mixed with terror shot through him when he saw it was behind him. Apparently he was the more appetizing prey.
He vaulted across the creek, then sprinted toward the woods, his feet pounding the ground. His breath burned in his lungs, the blood pounded in his temples, and all he could think, over and over, was, God! God! Help us!
Taylor watched in horror as Connor led the cougar away. She forced herself forward, splashing through the brook, and raced to Topaz’s side.
The buckskin was screaming, tossing its huge head in a desperate attempt to break loose and run. Taylor knew she could get into the saddle, but not without a fight. And Connor was running out of time.
She grabbed at the saddle, screaming at the horse and slapping him on the neck to get his attention. He danced in terror, his eyes wild, jerking the saddle from her hands. She lunged at him, grabbed a handful of mane and pulled for all she was worth, screaming again. Topaz hesitated—and that was all the opening she needed. She grabbed her rifle, jerked it from the leather scabbard, then whirled to run after Connor.
Let me be in time! One look told her the awful truth. Connor was no more than ten feet from the woods, but the cat was almost on top of him. He’d never make it.
“No!” She stopped abruptly and jerked the rifle to her shoulder, knowing even as she did so that it would take a miracle to save the man she’d come to love.
She sighted the cougar—and a terrible realization filled her. Connor and the cat were perfectly aligned. If she shot at the cougar and missed, odds were good she’d hit Connor. A sob escaped her lips.
The sound of a gunshot ripped through the air.
Someone else was shooting!
Taylor watched in stunned amazement as a rock near the running cougar splintered, sending shards flying. The cat uttered a pain-filled scream and jerked to a halt, coiling its sleek body and roaring out its rage.
Taylor was scanning the woods, seeking the source of the shot, when another sounded, and the rock splintered again, peppering the cat with tiny projectiles. It recoiled in fury and pain, raising one huge paw to claw at the air. A third shot sounded, and Taylor felt a cheer rise in her throat.
Who cared who was shooting? The cat had had enough! He turned and raced away, heading across the meadow, away from where Connor had raced into the woods, away from where Taylor stood in stunned amazement.
They were safe.
Suddenly her legs seemed to be made of rubber, and she sank to the ground. She knelt there, her rifle propped up in front of her, leaning her forehead against the cool barrel, willing herself to stop shaking.
Within moments strong hands slid under her arms and lifted her to her feet.
Connor. She
opened her eyes, and at the sight of him her rifle slipped from her fingers, and she threw her arms around his neck. He drew her close, engulfing her in his embrace, clamping her in an iron grip that told her he wasn’t going to release her anytime soon. And that was absolutely fine with her.
“Are you okay?”
At his hoarse question, she nodded as best she could with her face pressed against his chest. Then his hands cupped her face, and she leaned back to look at him. When their eyes met, her heart swelled with the tenderness of his expression.
“Thank God.” He searched her face with anxious eyes. “Thank you, God.” His prayer was breathed against her lips as he lowered his head and his mouth covered hers. And suddenly it was as though she came alive. Truly, fully alive for the first time since Josh’s death.
Moved by a deep and indefinable need, she leaned into him, her hands clutching his shirt, her senses filled with the emotions he stirred within her. When at last they drew apart, Connor’s eyes were dark and burning—and slightly dazed.
She brought a hand to his face and laid it gently against his cheek. “You saved my life.” Amazement swept her again at the risk he had taken for her.
He took her hand and pressed his lips to the palm. A shudder passed through her.
His gaze met hers, and when he spoke his voice was low and ragged. “All I could think of was leading the cougar away from you.” His eyes darkened. “Taylor, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I have to say it. I love you. I don’t ever want to leave you, to live without you. You are my life.” His voice caught, and shock jolted through her when she saw tears in his eyes. “The thought of you being hurt … of anything happening to you—” He broke off, shaking his head wordlessly as his hands cupped her face with an unbearable gentleness. “I’ve never prayed so hard in my life.”
She smiled suddenly, and her head spun. She felt absolutely giddy, though whether from their escape or Connor’s words, she wasn’t sure. “I was praying like crazy myself.”
His gaze was like a caress, and it was as though warmth enveloped her. “Well, he answered. And he guided your aim, too. That was some kind of shooting.”