“Good mornin’.” Travis greeted her with a slow, sleepy grin. With a sexy voice like his, she was surprised he hadn’t tried to break into films. He certainly had the rough-and-ready look for them. He held up a steaming cup, an act of temptation along with the man holding it. “I just made it.”
Tempting. What an apt word, because that was exactly what he did to her—tempt her into experiencing emotions she had long kept hidden.
She grasped the cup, making sure not to touch his fingertips, an action he didn’t miss.
“Since the ground is probably dry enough, I thought I’d drive into town today and see if there’s any mail. Would you care to ride along?” she asked, concentrating on drinking her coffee. “You can meet some of our more colorful citizens.”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“We’ll leave in fifteen minutes, then,” she said crisply, looking anywhere but directly at him.
“Don’t you want any breakfast first?”
She shook her head, remembering the last time he had tried to fix breakfast. Her stomach couldn’t handle that kind of abuse again. “I’m not hungry. I’ll check the supplies and see what I need to pick up.”
Travis stood up with the lithe grace of a mountain cat. “Sounds fine to me. It’ll give me a chance to get a better look at your town.”
“Don’t expect too much,” she advised good-naturedly.
A little over fifteen minutes later Kali ushered Travis into her jeep, drove it down the hill and along the highway like a Parisian taxi driver. One arm was braced on the open windowsill, the other hand loosely guiding the wheel. Only when she needed to change gears as she maneuvered the treacherous curving roads did she use both hands.
“You didn’t tell me you once drove in the Indy 500,” Travis shouted above the roar of the engine.
She flashed him a broad grin. “And I suppose you don’t speed around and do wheelies or whatever motorcycle jocks do!”
“Maybe you should go to one of our rallies,” he suggested slyly. “You’d certainly add some class to them.”
“I think I can live without the privilege.” Kali pulled up in front of the general store, which doubled as the meeting place for the town gossips.
Travis followed Kali into the dim interior, which smelled of freshly ground coffee beans, various spices, and the earthy smell of fish bait.
“Good thing you came in today, Kali. You’re savin’ me a trip out to your place, and you know how much I hate that damn hill of yours,” a man’s gravelly voice greeted her from behind the counter.
“Did you think I’d stay away from my favorite man for too long?” Kali teased, walking up to the storekeeper and kissing him soundly on the cheek. Travis saw the first natural smile appear on her face. He wished she would smile that way for him. “You’re looking good, J. C. Are you remembering to take your pills like the doctor ordered?”
The older man grimaced.
“I’ve got a bum ticker,” he explained to Travis, who stood behind Kali. “And this one thinks she’s my mother and my wife all rolled up into one neat package. The first one passed on thirty-two years ago, and the second kicked the bucket eight years ago. It’s been nice having some peace and quiet all these years—until this little twit pushed her way back into my life to turn it upside down.” He held out a hand. “J. C. Thomas, owner and postmaster and whatever else sounds good at the moment.”
“Travis Yates.” He shook the older man’s hand, not surprised to find his grip strong and sure.
J. C.‘s eyes narrowed. It was apparent that his age hadn’t diminished his faculties. He knew Kali hadn’t had any visitors in all the time she lived at the cabin, and doubted Travis had been invited, what with her avid distrust of any member of the male sex.
“You visitin’ Kali?” he asked.
Travis nodded. “We met a few years ago, and since I was in the neighborhood, I thought I’d stop in.”
“You don’t look fancy enough to be a model.”
Kali turned her head to hide her grin.
“I’m a photographer,” Travis explained.
“Oh, so you took pictures of her?” J. C. pulled out a box and several envelopes from a shelf behind him, placing them on the counter near Kali.
Travis shook his head. “My photographs are in specialty books.” He watched Kali wander around the store picking up various foodstuffs and setting them on the counter. “Hard to believe she grew up so far back in the hills. When I first heard she was from Virginia, I expected to see a Colonial mansion and servants at her beck and call.”
“She does make people see her in a different light without even being aware of it,” J. C. replied. “When she first came back here, she found the cabin not fit for a dog to live in—‘course, it never was much to begin with—but she didn’t waste any time. She called contractors to come in and fix it up and used my guest room as a home base until it was finished.”
“Doesn’t she have any family?”
J. C. spat into the nearby brass spittoon. “Her pa died, oh, six years ago; good riddance to trash. Let me tell you, he was one of the meanest ole coots around here. There’s only two good things he did for this world—make the best white lightnin’ in the state and produce Kali. But he wasn’t the kind of man a woman could live with for long. Kali’s ma ran off when Kali was just a baby, and he held it against the girl, more’s the pity.”
Travis frowned. This was a surprise to him. Kali had always kept her family background a secret, so he’d naturally assumed someone who had appeared to be all sweetness and light would have had a normal, happy childhood. Instead, she had followed her mother’s example and run away from home before she was beaten down by an embittered old man. He waited for the garrulous J. C. to say more, but Kali, with ice glittering in her eyes, approached them.
“That’s enough, J. C.,” she said politely, but her voice carried a hidden warning.
“He ‘pears safe to me,” he argued.
“You talk too much,” she accused mildly.
J. C. shrugged, not offended by what had to be the truth. He looked over at Travis. “Got a tongue like a viper, that one,” he told the younger man.
Travis grinned. “I’ve been bitten more than once myself.”
J. C. chortled, slapping his thigh, while Kali stared at both men as if she wished them a horrible death.
“No wonder I gave up men for Lent—and all the other days of the year.” She turned away and marched out of the store, calling over her shoulder. “Put these on my tab. I left a list of what I picked up by the register.”
“Nice to have met you, J. C.” Travis extended his hand.
“You must be special, son, if she let you stick around for more’n five seconds.” His smile disappeared. “She’s had a rough time of it. The two men she shoulda been able to trust let her down, and it’s left a bitter taste in her mouth and a lot of scars.” He cocked his head to one side, listening to a jeep engine revving up outside. “You best be goin’ ‘fore she takes off without you.”
“Yeah, she’d do it too.” Travis’s forefinger touched his forehead in a salute. “See ya around.”
A stony-faced Kali sat in the jeep waiting for her passenger. The minute Travis swung his body into the seat, she took off with a squeal of tires on the paved surface. The drive back to the cabin was conducted in chilly silence. Travis merely settled back and smiled to himself. He liked the lady when she got her hackles up and displayed the temper she tried very hard to keep under wraps. It proved she had substance, after all. From the hints J. C. had dropped, he sensed she’d needed that iron backbone just survive.
Kali brought the jeep to a bone-jarring stop by the cabin’s back door and jumped out. Travis beat her to the bag of supplies and mail and followed her stiff figure inside. He put away the groceries and watched her fix a pot of coffee.
“Why are you so afraid of someone finding out about the real you?” He folded the empty bag and placed it on the counter.
She spun around and
braced her hands on her hips. “I’d rather just forget about my past, if it’s all the same to you,” she replied in a clipped voice. “It’s easy enough for you to say I shouldn’t hide what’s gone on in my life. You’ve never gone through a divorce, Travis. And you’ve never had to sit in a courtroom filled with reporters staring at you like vultures waiting to sense the least bit of malice in your voice so they can print it for their avid readers. I heard stories about myself that should have been upsetting, but I couldn’t allow that to happen. I had to keep up a false front to the public so no one knew how badly I was hurting inside. I couldn’t put that weapon into anyone’s hands—” She halted, surprised that she had spoken so frankly to a man who was still a stranger in many ways.
“Writing ‘Human Frailties’ let some of the poison out of your heart, but not all of it, Kali,” Travis said quietly. “You’ve remained here erecting these damn walls to hide behind so no one can help. Trouble is, the day may come when you want help and you’ll be too far gone to ask.”
She shook her head rapidly to discourage his words. “That’s why I came here; to get away from meddlers like you.”
Travis’s fingers itched to take her into his arms and soothe the raw pain he sensed she felt but he knew any overture on his part would be icily rejected. Frankly he was surprised she hadn’t ordered him out of the house after what he’d said. What had stopped her?
The same question echoed in Kali’s brain. Why didn’t she just ask him to leave so she could get on with her life? But then, what kind of life did she really have before he’d showed up? She lived alone because she was afraid to let anyone close after all she had gone through.
Travis leaned past her to retrieve two mugs and fill them with coffee.
“Come on, let’s see what your care package brought you,” he suggested, walking into the living room. “If there’re any good videotapes in that box, we can watch movies and eat popcorn all night.”
The package from Malcolm had five videotapes enclosed and a letter addressed to Travis in Jenny’s unmistakable script, along with a letter to Kali.
Travis scanned the letter that outlined what had gone on in the office in his absence, and her sweetly worded assumption that he was either still with Kali or Kali had shot him on sight and buried his body in the woods, if the latter was true, could Jenny please have his James Dean poster collection? Travis laughed out loud, reading the last lines to Kali.
“I’ll keep that in mind in case I do decide to shoot you.” Kali chose a cassette at random and inserted it in the VCR. Then she stood up and headed for the kitchen.
Several minutes later Kali returned carrying a large tray filled with potato chips, popcorn, a jar of chunky peanut butter, and several cans of diet Coke. She set her booty on the coffee table and curled up on the other end of the couch.
“What’s the peanut butter for?” Travis asked curiously.
“For the potato chips.” She demonstrated by using the knife to spread a thin coating of the peanut butter over the rippled surface. Two bites and the chip was gone. “Better than onion dip. Try it, you might like it,” she invited with an impish grin, her earlier hostility now gone.
Travis was very tempted to try something else he was pretty sure he’d like, but he decided rejection wasn’t for him. Instead, he tried the potato chip and peanut butter combination and announced it wasn’t so bad.
They spent all afternoon and much of the evening watching three of the videotapes. After their film festival Travis talked about his days on the road, telling her about the time six of his riding buddies had held an impromptu beer party and belching contest. And the time a group tried playing polo using their bikes instead of horses with a crushed beer can as the ball. Not to mention the several rough-looking men comforting a little lost girl at a carnival with cotton candy and hot dogs until her parents could be found.
The more Kali heard, the more she saw a man any woman could respect and like, she admitted grudgingly.
Kali sat on the couch Indian-style, her back braced against the cushioned side, her palm cupping her chin as she listened to his tales. In return she talked about her work more freely than she had in a long time.
Travis recognized that his low-key manner helped weaken her self-resurrected walls fester than any arguments could. He watched her stiff posture loosen, her eyes lose their frosty glaze, and she smiled at him.
Lord, she has a beautiful smile, he thought, enjoying watching her in her old jeans and sweater, not to mention her ridiculous socks. If I’m not careful, I could fall in love with her—and that would turn out to be the ultimate torture.
Funny how a hardened bachelor like him could find that idea a little sad. The more he listened to her, watched the way her hands moved as she talked and saw the many emotions that crossed her face, the more determined he became to see her before his camera.
Kali wasn’t sure when her body began to shut down. One minute she was listening to Travis talk about his photography, the next she opened her eyes to find the TV off and the lights dimmed. She was snuggled warmly in Travis’s arms with a quilt thrown over them.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, trying to sit up, but his hand on her shoulder pulled her back against him.
“Don’t worry, my ego isn’t so fragile that I ever thought I was boring you,” he said teasingly.
This time Kali did sit up. In keeping her balance, her hand rested intimately on his muscular thigh. Both froze, staring into each other’s eyes. For long moments all that could be heard was the sound of uneven breathing. Kali’s cinnamon-brown eyes never blinked, even as Travis stared back at her with an almost frightening intensity. The fire in his eyes was hot enough to erupt a volcano, and potent enough to snare her gaze and keep it captured for endless time. Kali felt the flames lick along her body, sending heated messages to every nerve ending. With a surge of primitive feeling she wanted to feel his lips on hers. At that moment she knew she wanted him. She certainly knew he wanted her, and reveled in the knowledge. The tip of her tongue moistened her lower lip with unintentional sensuality.
“Go to bed, Kali,” Travis ordered roughly, forbidding himself to touch her when all he wanted to do was haul her into his arms and carry her up to his bed. “Go to your room, shut the door, and if there’s a lock on it, use it—because I don’t feel very noble tonight.”
She managed a wobbly smile. “I know exactly what you mean.” She stood up and walked out of the room without a backward glance.
Travis remained on the couch listening to her door closing and the click of the lock turning. He cursed himself for not taking advantage of the moment even though he knew the timing was all wrong. He went up to the loft to spend the night wondering why he was such a fool for sticking around when Kali was determined to be a recluse.
No, it was no longer just the hope of buying her story or taking her photo that kept him there. He wanted to stay long enough to see her smile and laugh the way he knew she could. And he wanted to be the cause of it.
Travis uttered a curse. He should have known better than to be attracted to a woman who was even more stubborn than he was.
Kali woke up feeling as if a dark cloud had descended upon her. One look at her calendar confirmed the reason for her misery. She showered and dressed before wandering out to the kitchen. Travis was already there, tucking into a plate of black bacon and scorched eggs.
“I’d offer you some, but I wouldn’t want you to accuse me of trying to poison you,” he said, not missing the lines of strain around her eyes. Evidently she hadn’t passed a good night, either.
“I’m not hungry,” she muttered, picking up the coffeepot.
Travis arched an eyebrow in surprise. Kali always ate a large breakfast, claiming it was what kept her going through the day. But today something was troubling her a great deal.
“You feeling all right?” he asked, concerned for her.
“Fine.” Kali managed to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Instead of sitting down at the
table, she leaned against the counter while sipping her coffee.
“I’d better muck out the stalls first thing,” she murmured, finishing her coffee and rinsing out her mug.
“I’ll help.” Travis stood up. Her unease bothered him, and something made him feel she shouldn’t be left alone.
Kali didn’t reply as she hurried outside.
All day Travis watched her work in the barn as if she were meeting some sort of deadline. The stalls were cleaned out in record time. Travis watched her exercise each horse, cool them off, then brush and curry them until their coats shone. She fixed veal parmigiana for dinner but ate no more than three bites. Travis offered to do the dishes, figuring she was so jumpy that she’d probably break them.
“You’re treating me like a child,” she said crossly.
“If I am, it’s because you’re acting like one,” he informed her as he gently pushed her in the direction of the living room. “Go sit down and twiddle your thumbs or take up knitting.”
Kali went into the living room and sat down only because she couldn’t think of a sufficient argument.
But she couldn’t sit still for more than a minute. She wandered around the room, picking up a vase and putting it down, turning on the radio and turning it off.
Travis finished the dishes in no time, determined to find out what was bothering Kali. Once everything was put away, he walked in to discover her sitting on the edge of a chair and staring off into space.
“What is wrong with you?” he demanded. “You’re as nervous as a whore in church.”
Kali gave a short laugh. “How my father would have liked you.” Travis wasn’t sure it was a compliment. “He enjoyed those old sayings.”
“Something’s eating you up inside, Kali. Is today the anniversary of your divorce?”
Her laugh was bitter. “On the contrary, that’s the day I dance with joy and thank God I was sane enough to get out when I did. Tell you what, why don’t you draft your ideas for your new book for me? Show me what you want to do, and then we’ll talk,” she crooned, as if promising something special to a child.
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