by Linda Turner
It was a humbling feeling.
Just weeks ago, he would have deeply resented the fact that his brothers and sisters had grown up with an incredible wilderness right in their backyard. He, on the other hand, had lived in a series of bare-bones apartments that hadn’t even had a community playground for the kids, let alone mountains and streams and a vista of trees that stretched for as far as the eye could see. But how could he be angry and resentful in such an incredible setting?
“It’s pretty awesome, isn’t it?” Phoebe said as she dropped back to ride beside him for a few moments. “The first time I went camping with the McBrides, I was ten years old and I thought we’d stepped back into the Old West. Can you imagine going over these mountains in a covered wagon? Especially in the winter? I don’t know how people did it.”
“They had to be pretty tough,” he agreed, and felt a pride in his McBride ancestors that surprised the hell out of him. He knew next to nothing about these people, not their names, where they came from, what they stood for. He might share the same DNA with them, but the McBrides weren’t his family and never would be. Regardless of how tough they were, how hardy or tenacious, or what kind of empire they’d managed to carve out of the wilds of Colorado, they and their descendents meant nothing to him. So where the hell did this feeling of pride come from?
Confused and more than a little annoyed, he discovered a part of him that wanted to come up with an excuse to go back to town. The rest of the crowd wouldn’t have to change their plans—Phoebe could give him a key to Myrtle’s and continue with the others up into the mountains. Some time by himself might be what he needed to get his head on straight.
But even as he acknowledged the wisdom of that, he couldn’t deny the connection he felt to the land, and that surprised him. He’d never considered himself a rural man—he liked cities and all the amenities that they had to offer—but there was something about the ruggedness of the mountains, the whisper of the wind through the pines, the cry of a hawk in the distance, that seemed to call to a hollow spot in his soul. He told himself he was crazy—his imagination was playing tricks on him—but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around and ride back down the mountain.
When they finally reached the canyon where they planned to spend the night, the afternoon was half gone and a storm was gathering high up in the mountains. Zeke took one look at the darkening sky and said, “I don’t like the look of those clouds. We’d better set up the tents before it starts pouring.”
He didn’t get any arguments from the others. “Let’s set up under those big pines over by the creek,” Joe said. “The ground’s not as rocky there, and the trees’ll protect us some if it rains.”
They all quickly dismounted and began the task of setting up camp. First, the horses had to be taken care of. They were stripped of the gear they carried and their saddles, then fed and watered. Only then did Joe and Zeke begin constructing the tents.
Already setting up the camp kitchen, Elizabeth said, “Phoebe, why don’t you and Taylor collect some firewood? I’ll use the Coleman stove to cook dinner, but we’ll need some wood for a fire later. It’ll get cold once the sun goes down.”
“We’d better hurry before it rains and the wood gets wet,” Taylor said, casting a wary eye at the darkening sky. “It looks like it’s going to pour any minute.”
Phoebe had to agree. Just in the last few minutes, the wind had picked up, and in the distance, the rumble of thunder could clearly be heard. “We’ll be back as quickly as we can,” she assured Elizabeth, and hurried away from camp with Taylor at her side.
Later, she couldn’t have said how far they wandered from the campsite. Their eyes trained on the ground in front of them, they picked up one piece of fallen wood after another, but much of it was decomposing and wouldn’t burn well. So they moved deeper into the canyon and never noticed that the clouds gathering overhead were becoming darker and darker.
Then, from out of nowhere, lightning split the sky with an angry crack of thunder. Startled, they both jumped, and only just then noticed that camp was nowhere in sight. “Damn!” Swearing, Taylor dropped the few pieces of wood he was carrying and grabbed her hand. “C’mon!”
Running, he pulled her with him toward a spot in the canyon wall fifty yards away where a rock jutted out, creating a shallow cave. Breathless, her heart pounding, Phoebe matched him step for step, but they were both running a race they couldn’t win. Twenty feet from the cave, it started to rain. And what began as a few sprinkles quickly turned into a downpour.
Gasping, her hair falling into her eyes, blinding her, Phoebe slipped on a slick rock, but before she could fall, Taylor snatched her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a baby. With three long strides, he reached the cave.
Taylor released her almost immediately, but he couldn’t step back—there was no room. The cave was little more than an alcove big enough for two. If either one of them moved the least little bit, they would find themselves standing in the rain.
Phoebe had never been afraid of storms, but then again, she’d never been trapped in one before. Overhead, lightning ripped across the dark sky with a crack of thunder that seemed to make the very ground tremble beneath their feet. The wind picked up, tearing at the trees, and the rain turned into a downpour.
Her heart racing and her eyes trained on the wild display being put on by Nature, Phoebe didn’t realize she’d instinctively crowded closer to Taylor until she found herself pressed against him. Startled, she would have stepped back, but then suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of something moving through the trees in the rain. Her eyes narrowing, she peered through the misty rain, only to gasp when her gaze locked with the steely dark gaze of a wolf.
Beside her, Taylor went perfectly still, and she knew that he, too, saw the wolf. It stood near the edge of a thick stand of pines, blending into the shadows, its fur wet from the rain as it gazed unblinkingly at the shallow cave where she and Taylor had sought protection from the rain. Watching it, Phoebe felt tears sting her eyes. It was the most beautiful animal she’d ever seen in her life. It showed no fear, no concern that humans had invaded its territory, but studied them as carefully as they studied it. Then, without warning, it silently slipped off into the trees like a gray ghost, disappearing as quietly as it had appeared. And just that easily, she understood why Zeke and Elizabeth had fought so hard to reintroduce the wolves back into this area of the Colorado Rockies.
How long they stood there, staring at the spot where the wolf had disappeared, she couldn’t have said. The magic of the moment was still in her eyes when she made the mistake of looking up at the same time Taylor looked down. Something passed between them, something shared, something hushed and intimate that set her heart pounding.
“That was pretty incredible, wasn’t it?”
His low, rough growl reached out and stroked her like a caress, stealing her breath, and it was a long moment before she could find her voice. “I’ve heard about the wolves for years, but I never expected to feel like this when I saw one,” she said huskily, and prayed he didn’t ask for an explanation of what she meant by this. Because this was the wonder of seeing the wolf…with him, of sharing it…with him. Did he have a clue what his nearness did to her? Could he hear the pounding of her heart? Did he know how much she wanted him to touch her? Hold her? Kiss her?
She prayed her expression wouldn’t give her away, but there must have been something in her face, a look in her eyes, that caught his attention. His gaze narrowed on hers, and, for a moment, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Then he reached for her and stepping into his arms seemed to be the most natural thing in the world.
Lightning flashed overhead, but the world could have stopped rotating on its axis and she never would have noticed. Her heart pounding, every bone in her body melting, she didn’t want him to ever let her go. Later, she knew that would bother her, but for now, she didn’t want to think, didn’t want to do anything but kiss him again and again a
nd again. Crowding closer, she sighed his name, aching for more.
He was losing his mind.
Taylor told himself he had to stop this—now, while he still had some measure of his common sense left. But how was he supposed to think straight when the feel and scent and taste of her went straight to his head? He couldn’t remember the last woman who had felt so damn good in his arms. She kissed him back with a hunger that matched his own and all he wanted to do was pick her up and carry her off to some dry spot in the woods where he could spend the rest of the day and night making love to her.
Images played in his mind, teasing him, heating his blood, and before he could stop to consider the wisdom of his actions, he gave in to the need and swept her up in his arms. Startled, she gasped softly…and sweetly wound her arms around his neck. That easily, he was lost. Groaning at the feel of her against him, he unthinkingly stepped out from under the protection of the rocky ledge that protected them from the weather.
Cold rain pounded down on their heads and shoulders, bringing them back to their surroundings with a jolt. Startled, they broke apart with a gasp…and looked up at the sky as if they’d never seen rain before. Almost immediately, they were both soaked; the mood was broken.
“Well, damn!” Taylor swore. Normally, he would have been furious with himself for losing his head and forgetting where he was, but when he looked down at Phoebe, water was streaming from her hair, her blouse was plastered to her breasts, and she looked like a drowned rat. Any other woman he knew would have been, at the very least, less than happy with him for carrying her out into the middle of a storm, but as his gaze met hers, her lips twitched and her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. And suddenly they were both laughing.
“Sorry about that,” he said with a rueful grin as he quickly stepped back into the shallow cave and set her on her feet. “I lost my head there for a second.”
Surprised that he’d admitted it—losing control wasn’t something she suspected he acknowledged often— Phoebe was amazed that a kiss and a little rain could turn him into such a likable man. Who would have thought it?
“Me, too,” she said with a smile. “I forgot all about the others. They’ll be wondering where we are.”
It was the wrong thing to say. His smile faded. “We need to get back.” Casting an eye at the still-dripping sky, he said, “It looks like it’s just about passed over us. It’s clearing to the west.”
The sky was, indeed, clearing—the words were hardly out of his mouth when the sun broke free of the clouds low on the horizon. Disappointed and hurt—was he that anxious to get back to the others?—she forced a smile that never reached her eyes. “Then I guess we’d better go. I’m sure Zeke’s figured out by now that we’re not going to find any dry wood. I hope he brought down sleeping bags. It’s going to be cold tonight.”
The temperature had already started to drop because of the rain—and she was quickly becoming chilled. She tried to tell herself that it was because of her wet clothes, but she knew it had more to do with Taylor’s cool insistence on returning to camp. How could he kiss her as though he didn’t want ever to let her go, then turn around and walk away as if nothing had happened between them? Was he really that cold?
Hurt, confused, she would have liked nothing more than to head back to town then and there, but that was impossible, of course. It would take hours just to reach the homestead, and it would be dark long before then. So she headed for camp instead, uncaring that the trees were still dripping. Behind her, she could feel Taylor right on her heels, taking every step she did. Fighting sudden, foolish tears, she never looked back.
“Hey, there you are!” Zeke greeted them as they walked into camp twenty minutes later. “We were beginning to wonder if you were in trouble.”
“Hey!” Joe exclaimed. “What do you mean we? I knew they were fine. Didn’t I tell you they were both smart enough to find a place to get out of the rain?”
“If I remember correctly,” Elizabeth replied with a grin, “you were giving them five more minutes, then you were going to go looking for them.
“I kept telling them both you wouldn’t show up until it stopped raining,” she continued, smiling at Phoebe, “but would they listen to me? Of course not.”
Her clothes still damp, sure that the kiss they shared must somehow be stamped all over her face, Phoebe forced a smile. “We found a small cave where we could get out of the storm. That’s when we saw the wolf.”
“What! Which one?”
“A big gray one,” Taylor said. “I think it was a male, but it was hard to tell in the rain.”
“It was magnificent,” Phoebe added. “He just appeared out of nowhere, and the next thing we knew, he was gone. He never made a sound.”
Pleased, Elizabeth smiled. “Thank God! That must have been Napoleon’s grandson, Duke. I haven’t seen him in a while. I was afraid something had happened to him.”
“I told you he was fine,” Zeke told her, slipping an arm around her shoulders to give her a hug. “He looks just like Napoleon. He can take care of himself.” Suddenly noticing that neither one of them had collected any wood, he said, “What happened to the firewood?”
“We dropped it when it started to rain,” Phoebe admitted. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Zeke assured her. “We brought plenty of charcoal along, just in case. You never know what the weather’s going to do up here, even in the summer, so we’ve learned to be prepared. Don’t worry. We won’t freeze tonight.”
“Or go hungry,” Elizabeth added. “We threw a tarp over the kitchen stuff once we realized it was going to rain, so we won’t have to eat wet sandwiches tonight, thank God. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starving!”
Thankful to have something to do to get her mind off Taylor, Phoebe said, “What can I do to help you get dinner ready?”
“Make a salad while the guys set up the table,” Elizabeth replied promptly. “We’re having fettuccine Alfredo, and I brought the sauce from home. All we have to do is boil the water for the noodles, heat the sauce, and we can eat.”
She didn’t have to tell any of them twice. It had been a long day, and it had been hours since lunch. The men quickly had a makeshift table set up, folding chairs arranged around it, and a charcoal fire started to ward off the already falling temperatures. A lantern was lit, the food brought to the table and it was time to eat.
They were in the middle of nowhere, and as comfortable as they’d been that night they’d had dinner at Joe’s. Phoebe would have sworn she’d never be able to relax—let alone eat—seated across from Taylor. But they were surrounded by the night, the mountains, the sweetly fragrant scent of damp pine in the air, and the rest of the world seemed very far away. Phoebe found herself laughing at the good-natured ribbing between Zeke and Joe and fascinated by the stories Elizabeth told about her precious wolves. If her heart seemed to stop in her breast every time her eyes chanced to lock with Taylor’s, the others soon distracted her with another joke or story. Glad she hadn’t backed out of the trip that morning, after all, she thoroughly enjoyed herself.
Watching Phoebe laugh at something Zeke said, Taylor couldn’t take his eyes off her. She sat comfortably relaxed in a folding camp chair, her legs stretched out in front of her, her cheeks pink from the sun she’d gotten earlier in the day during the ride up into the mountains. The rain had brought out the curl in her hair and washed the makeup from her face, but she was still beautiful. How the hell did she fascinate him so? he wondered in confusion. She wasn’t his type. They didn’t have a damn thing in common…except this incredible chemistry that flared to life every time their eyes met. Touching her, kissing her, only made the need she stirred in him worse.
Irritated, he told himself he never should have come on this trip. Any way he’d looked at it, he’d known it was wrong of him. He was too attracted to Phoebe—spending a weekend with her under rugged conditions was only going to make it worse. Then there were the McBrides themselves. He li
ked them, dammit. That still amazed him. He hadn’t planned this, didn’t want it. Liking them only made it more difficult for him to carry out the revenge he’d planned. But how the hell could he not like them? Right from the beginning, they’d trusted him to be the man he’d said he was. Just as Phoebe had. Once, that wouldn’t have bothered him. Now, however, his revenge had become a double-edged sword. Did he really want to go through with his plan to expose Gus to his legitimate children and their mother? What purpose would it serve? His own mother was dead. It wouldn’t change the sadness and hardship of her life. And it wouldn’t give him the father he’d never had.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Joe told him with a grin. “You’re not falling asleep on us, are you?”
Forcing a smile, Taylor said, “Actually, I was wondering how the hell I’m going to get out of this chair when it’s time to go to bed. I feel like I’m about a hundred years old.”
“Wait till tomorrow,” Zeke teased. “You’ll be lucky if you can move.”
“Don’t worry,” Elizabeth said, chuckling, “we brought plenty of horse liniment. Everybody gets their own bottle.”
Phoebe rose to her feet with a grimace, her grin rueful. “I think I’m going to need two.”
“That’s what happens when you spend so much time in the city,” Joe retorted, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “Here. I brought you a present.”
When he tossed her a hot-water bottle, she burst out laughing. “My hero!”
“Hey, what about mine?” Taylor protested. “I’m from the city, too!”
For an answer, Joe tossed him another hot-water bottle.
Taylor scowled at the luminous dial on his watch and swore softly in the darkness. Midnight. It had been two hours since they’d all turned in for the night, and he’d spent every second of that time staring at the peaked roof of his small tent. He tried to convince himself it was because he was still sore, despite the liniment and hot-water bottle, but he knew his stiff muscles had nothing to do with his insomnia. It was Phoebe, dammit! She slept less than ten yards away, and from where he lay, he swore he could hear every breath she took.