Custody For Two (Baby Bonds #1)

by Karen Rose Smith

  Suddenly he was struck by the longing to show Shaye every advantage of living with the spirit of adventure. He wasn’t even going to try to guess what the next couple of days might bring, and he definitely wasn’t going to imagine lying under the stars with her.

  Whatever happened, happened.

  That resolved, he picked up their trash and dumped it in a nearby can. As he walked side by side with Shaye down Wild Horse Junction’s main street—Wild Horse Way—he was ready for the buggy ride and whatever else came next.

  As Shaye drove with Dylan on the byway climbing into the mountains, she felt as if she were seeing everything for the first time. That was crazy, since she’d lived in this area all her life. The huge, uniquely weather-sculptured formations of rock stood in bold relief against the sky. She wondered if she was looking at everything differently because she was with Dylan. Today, the high desert was breathtaking and uplifting in a way she’d never noticed before.

  A lump formed in her throat when she realized how Dylan was affecting her world. Could he even guess how his presence in her life was rippling through the whole fabric of it? Sometimes where custody of Timmy was concerned, she felt as if she were consorting with the enemy. Other times, she felt as if they were partners trying to safeguard Timmy’s development. And then there were those times when only the two of them existed, bound together by an attraction neither of them understood.

  “We’re almost there,” Dylan said with a glance at her.

  “I was surprised when you drove up in this.” “This” was a hard-side camper truck. “Where’d you get it?”

  “I rented it. I wanted you to be comfortable.”

  “I didn’t think camping was about being comfortable.”

  “That depends on what kind of camping you do. I love sleeping in tents, but I’m used to fluctuations in temperature, you’re not. Tonight, it could drop twenty degrees, maybe more. I didn’t want you to shiver all night.”

  “I think there’s another reason you brought a camper.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. A tent could be—” She didn’t know quite how to put it. “Claustrophobic. If we don’t want this trip to get too intimate, the camper was the better way to go.”

  His sideways glance lingered on her. “When the temperature drops tonight, we would have no way to stay warm in a tent except by combining our body heat. I didn’t want you to think I’d arranged this trip for the wrong reasons.”

  Dylan’s protectiveness bothered her almost as much as her brothers’. She knew as well as he did what would happen if they’d have to share body heat. At least now she was reassured he hadn’t intended this as a romantic getaway. Dylan confused her until she didn’t know if up was up or down was down.

  “I hope your boots are comfortable.”

  “They are. Gwen, Kylie and I have often gone riding on Saddle Ridge.”

  “You ride?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I couldn’t grow up with somebody like Kylie and not have her teach me a few things about horses. Thanks to her, Gwen and I are both pretty good horsewomen.”

  “Just when I think I have you figured out, you surprise me.”

  “Good.”

  He laughed. “Good?”

  “I wouldn’t want to be completely predictable. I’d be boring.”

  “You couldn’t be boring if you tried. You’re too smart to be boring.”

  That was a compliment she didn’t know how to reply to. So, she remained silent as they passed the turnoff for Devil Canyon and the lookout. Not long after, Dylan veered off the main road onto a narrower one that wound low between two gorges.

  “These campsites are protected from the wind. The rock walls are natural barriers.”

  “I don’t suppose cell phones work up here,” she commented as they continued downward.

  “The truck’s equipped with a CB. We can make contact if we have to.”

  Ten minutes later, Dylan had found the spot he wanted. They drove onto a concrete parking space that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. High-growing sage brushed against leaves of silvery Russian olive trees. Hopping out, he took a look around and nodded to Shaye. “This looks good. Do you want to try to catch a glimpse of some mustangs? We have about three hours of daylight.”

  “Sure. Do I need my backpack?”

  “You’d better bring it. Make sure you have water and matches.”

  She could see Dylan’s backpack was much heavier than hers. After he motioned toward the west, they started hiking.

  “What do you have in there?” she asked, gesturing to his pack.

  “Equipment, mostly.”

  As they walked, Dylan shared bits of history about the mustangs. Shaye also absorbed their surroundings from the low pines growing at their feet to the firs on the distant ridge. In flatter spots she could smell wild onion, glimpse cacti blooming, admire blue larkspur.

  Dylan pointed to one of the ridges and kept his voice low. “I want to hike up there in the morning. We’ll have a wonderful view of the valley and a couple of the canyons. I’d like to get a start soon after first light. Is that too early for you?”

  “There’s no reason we can’t turn in early,” she said with a smile. She thought about them sleeping in the same vicinity.

  Dylan’s thoughts must have been covering the same territory because his eyes darkened for an instant. Then he turned away from her and kept walking. “Walk in my footsteps if you can. This is rattlesnake territory.”

  Bears, rattlesnakes and bighorn sheep could be anywhere. Shaye kept close to Dylan.

  A short time later he took a pair of binoculars from a case attached to his belt. Stopping, he used them to study areas to the north and the west, then to a valley below.

  Suddenly he motioned to her. “Come here.”

  Without a second thought, she moved toward him.

  “Take a look. Over there. Where the rock face forms a vee.”

  Taking the binoculars, she could see they were the type with a digital camera built in so Dylan could spot his subject and take a picture of it. Finding the area he’d noted, her breath caught. At the base of the cliff, the sun not only shed its light on the rock but on four beautiful mustangs. Sun glanced off the back of a sorrel who was in the company of three other horses—a blue roan, a chestnut foal and another sorrel. They were standing in a circle nibbling at brush.

  “They’re gorgeous!”

  “Aren’t they? When they run in the clearings out here, there’s not another sight like it.”

  She watched as one of the larger horses bumped noses with a smaller one, pushing him away from a particular tuft of brush.

  “Are they far away from a larger herd?”

  “Possibly. But they’re their own family. That’s a stallion with his mare. The baby looks about a month old. I’d put the second sorrel at about two.”

  “Kylie wants to adopt a mustang.”

  “The Bureau of Land Management thins the herds. I know Kylie would probably give one of them a good home, but this is where they belong.”

  “Loving captivity or freedom. That’s a tough choice,” Shaye mused.

  “Unfortunately, they don’t have a choice. Man decides for them.”

  The stallion raised his head and whinnied. He seemed to look straight at them. Then he bobbed his head a few times and the others followed. Suddenly he took off, his tail flying, and led his band into the canyon and out of sight.

  Just like that stallion, Shaye was sure Dylan would chose freedom, risk and danger over loving captivity any day.

  As she hiked back to their campsite with Dylan, she realized it had been months since she’d physically challenged herself. Timmy had taken up every moment of her time since he was born. Now, she’d have to add her job to that. Yet she still couldn’t consider Dylan’s offer of financial support. Depending on him was out of the question.

  Purple dusk enveloped the mountains as the camper came into view, and she noticed the fire ring.

>   Unlocking the camper, Dylan lowered the step, went inside and reemerged without his backpack and with a flashlight he clipped on his belt. “I’ve got about ten minutes until it’s completely dark out here. I’m going to collect kindling and wood. You can decide what you want for supper. Perishables are in the icebox. Dry goods are in the cupboard in the corner. I set out a battery-powered lantern so you can see in there.”

  She didn’t like the idea of him stepping away from the campsite for any reason. “Don’t go too far, okay?”

  With a reassuring smile, he left her.

  The inside of the camper wasn’t fancy, but rather utilitarian. She saw the bunk above the cab and figured that’s where he’d sleep. She’d curl up on the sofa on the left side of the camper. Dylan would never fit there.

  The icebox really was an icebox. There was a block of ice inside. On it lay a pack of sandwich meat, cheese and four frozen hamburger patties. She also saw half a dozen eggs stowed on the shelf above the ice with a slab of bacon beside them. When she opened the cupboard, she found cans of baked beans and Harvard beets, a loaf of Italian bread, granola bars, a pack of chocolate cookies, as well as a small frying pan and saucepan. The cans had pop tops and she could see Dylan had thought of everything. Not too little and not too much.

  True to his word, Dylan was back in ten minutes and had the fire started before she exited the camper. Going to the truck, he pulled out two sleeping bags from behind the driver’s seat.

  After he plopped them on the ground, he stood very close to her. “I brought these in case you wanted a taste of sleeping under the stars.”

  Sleep under the stars with Dylan?

  The wind blew over the gorge but they were protected from it. The air was redolent with sage and pine. They’d be open to the elements, yet warm in each other’s company. How could all that compare with the inside of the camper?

  He ran the back of his hand down the side of her cheek and the caress trembled throughout her whole body.

  “You don’t have to decide now,” he murmured. “You can always start out here and then when the temperature drops, go inside. Think about it.”

  Should she live dangerously for a change or head for refuge? If she had any sense, she’d run for safety right now. But standing here, gazing into Dylan’s eyes, she couldn’t help but want to taste his life.

  Was she courageous enough to do that?

  Chapter Eleven

  The moon, the stars and Dylan.

  He motioned to the two sleeping bags. “You can stay zippered up in yours and I’ll stay zippered in mine. I don’t think you want to miss this.”

  By “this,” she knew he was referring to the wonder of the Wyoming night on a mountain—the scent of wood burning and pine, the hushed majesty of being closer to heaven, the joy of being alive and, for the moment, free of burdens. He was right. She didn’t want to miss any of it.

  “My jacket’s in the truck. I’ll get that and be right back.”

  Shaye couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed supper—burgers, beets and chocolate cookies that tasted much better out here than they ever would in her kitchen. Dylan had brought along a five-gallon container of water. Now they used some of that with the biodegradable soap to wash their pans.

  After they cleaned up the campsite and a low fire glowed, Shaye pulled her sleeping bag closer to Dylan and climbed inside. The temperature was falling but she was comfortable next to the fire with the insulated fabric enveloping her. Wearing a heavy sweatshirt, Dylan laid on top of his bedroll.

  “I suppose you’re accustomed to camping out,” she commented, just to make conversation.

  “Yep. I’m used to pitching a tent and waiting for first light. I don’t normally cook when I do it, though.”

  “You take along freeze-dried rations?”

  “I take as little gear as I have to because of the camera equipment. Freeze-dried food is good, so is trail mix or protein bars. Anything I can get hold of that’s light to carry.”

  “How many languages do you speak?” she suddenly asked.

  “I’ve picked up a little of this, a little of that.”

  “Three, four, five?”

  “Each dialect is a language of its own. I’m not fluent in anything, but I can make myself understood.”

  She had a feeling he was being modest and she liked that about him. He didn’t feel a need to shout his accomplishments from every rooftop. There was a quiet confidence about Dylan that gave him strength.

  As she propped on her side, facing him, he leaned closer. When he stroked her hair away from her face, she could have purred. The fire cast light and shadows on his features and the intensity in his eyes was mesmerizing as he asked, “Wouldn’t you like to see more of the world than Wild Horse Junction? I know you said you’re satisfied here, but is being satisfied enough? Don’t you want to reach for more?”

  After a brief hesitation, she replied, “I reached for more, once. I had dreams of seeing all the continents, but I soon realized the person I’m with is more important than where I go. If I can’t be happy in Wild Horse Junction, why do I think I can be happy anywhere? Do you know what I mean?”

  The expression on his face told her he did understand. “When I returned to Africa, I guess that’s when I realized that no matter where I went, deep inside I wanted to be back here with Timmy.”

  Her breath caught and the fear that he would take Timmy away must have showed in her eyes.

  “Don’t,” he murmured, slipping down on his side. “Don’t be afraid of what I feel for Timmy.”

  “At any time you could sue for sole custody.”

  He didn’t deny that. “As he gets older, there will be decisions to make. You might need help.”

  “I’ll make them one at a time.”

  Dylan was so close. He looked so rugged with his windswept hair, beard stubble and sweatshirt. All she had to do was lean slightly toward him and he’d kiss her. Did she truly want that? Did she want more than that?

  The questions stopped because his eyes seemed to devour her. He didn’t make a move yet she felt the inexorable pull toward him. She couldn’t keep from tilting her body toward his.

  When she did, he said, “I didn’t ask you out here to kiss you.”

  “You didn’t ask me out here to count the stars in the sky, either.”

  With his thumb, he traced the curve of her upper lip. “Would you rather count the stars?”

  Slowly she shook her head.

  He didn’t settle his lips on hers right away. Instead he brushed his nose against hers and kissed each corner of her mouth until she wanted to beg him to just kiss her. After he nibbled her lower lip, tantalizingly slid his tongue along it, finally his arm went around her and he gave her what she wanted—a full, long, deep, wet kiss. The teasing gentleness was gone then and hunger took over.

  Dylan’s need had so much depth, she drowned in it. It seemed bottomless as he swept her mouth again and again, explored every soft ridge, tasted every sweet crest. Her arms went under his and she held on. She couldn’t feel him against her, the sleeping bag was too padded. Mindless with kissing him, she tried to push it down, but it was a barrier that wouldn’t go away.

  Breaking the kiss, he asked hoarsely, “Do you want to get closer?”

  Breathing hard and fast, she knew exactly what he was asking. “Do you have protection?”

  “I do,” he answered solemnly. “I can zip the two sleeping bags into one, then we can crawl inside to stay warm.”

  “Just to stay warm?” she asked.

  “Whatever happens is up to you, Shaye.”

  Whatever happens.

  Didn’t she want to experience again the wonder of making love with him? Didn’t she want to feel like a woman? Didn’t she want to feel the desire that kept her awake most nights?

  The first time she’d made love with Dylan, it had happened so fast and quick. It had been impulsive and reckless. Tonight, she wanted more.

  “Let’s zip them together,” she
decided, knowing she was playing with fire and recognizing the danger of it.

  It didn’t take Dylan long to make two single sleeping bags into a double. He used his sweatshirt and she used her jacket as pillows. After they placed their boots at the foot of the sleeping bag, they lay on their backs, side by side, looking up at the moon and the stars.

  “There’s Cassiopeia,” he pointed out, tracing the stretched-out W.

  “I was never very good at picking out the constellations,” she murmured. After a few moments she added, “It’s so quiet here tonight. I don’t hear anything but the fire.”

  “The sheep are lambing. The bears must have taken the night off,” he teased.

  Reaching over, he took her hand in his and entwined their fingers. The longer they lay there, the more she was aware of the rise and fall of Dylan’s chest, the more she was aware of the heat building inside the sleeping bag, the more she was aware of the need growing inside of her. When she turned her head to look at Dylan, he turned, too. Then they were doing more than looking—they were touching and kissing and holding each other. Never before in her life had she so wanted to be exactly where she was.

  When Dylan slid his hands under her sweater, he wasn’t in any hurry to rid her of her clothes. His large hands traced circles on her midriff as he kissed her. Hardly able to think, but wanting to give him pleasure, too, she pulled his T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers tunneled underneath. She’d remembered the texture of his skin in her dreams, but it was so much better to be actually touching him now. After he unfastened her bra, he broke the kiss and stroked above her breasts, all the while watching her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I want to see if you’re enjoying what I’m doing. You’ve got expressive eyes. They show all, and I think you like what I’m doing now.” The tips of his thumbs grazed her nipples and she moaned.

  “Oh, yes, I do.”

  Laughing, he took a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it, tugging it, making her crazy. She wanted to make him as hot and bothered as he was making her. Sliding one hand from under his T-shirt, she dragged it over his waistband and down his thigh.