Holding a Hero

by Layne, Lyssa

  “Why? I like the sound of it.” Always and forever a songwriter, he had lyrics already forming in his head. Something about a long-legged blonde….

  When she shot him a glance, her eyes clouded. “My father used to call me by that name.”

  “Not now?”

  “No. He died four years ago.” Her voice cracked.

  “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t imagine life without his old man, although they didn’t see each other as often as they’d like with Johnny’s touring schedule.

  “Thanks. I miss him terribly.” She blinked hard and looked out her side window.

  “He taught you to hunt?” That he actually cared about her answer took him by surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a real conversation with a woman outside the business. What had he and Teal talked about? He couldn’t recall. What position or what to have for dinner, maybe.

  “Yup.” She grabbed another gear, slowing for the bumpy dirt road. “When I was a little kid. The rifle was bigger than me.”

  He grinned. “My old man taught me, too.”

  “So you actually know how to shoot? Joel said you did, but…” She shrugged.

  “What? You don’t think a music man can do more than sing and fuck?” He was more offended than he had a right to be. “Like you, I started hunting at a young age. My job keeps me away from things I like to do, but I can hit the side of a building fairly accurately.”

  Seeming to miss his attempt at wit, she glanced at him with serious gray eyes. “I don’t have any idea what you can or cannot do. I don’t know you yet.”

  When was the last time he’d had to prove something? He fought to remember. Not in forever. The early years in the business were another story. Every album, every song, he’d had to establish himself all over again to the critics, to the public. Until both had grudgingly accepted him and his brand of southern rock mixed with some blues.

  When he’d tried something different on his last album, both had panned him.

  The shock had knocked him on his ass.

  Almost as much as losing his first record deal had. He stared at the Colorado scenery without really seeing as memories played in his head like an old record.

  He and Keifer had been playing small clubs—anywhere that would let two underage kids in—when an executive from a small label spotted them. He liked what he heard and offered them a deal. They’d been so excited, over the moon. Beyond.

  Both sets of parents refused to let them sign, insisting they finish school first. Terrified they’d lose the arrangement, the boys ran away and forged their parents’ signatures, determined to make their dreams come true.

  All their plans came crashing down around them when their parents tracked them down, told the record company what they’d done and made them come home to finish their senior year of high school. The deal had been immediately rescinded and the record dropped.

  Remembering all that drama made him laugh now, but at the time he and Keifer had been so sure their lives and careers were over, they almost died from despair. In fact, the episode had made great tunes on their subsequent records. What Johnny had learned since that fateful summer could fill a hundred songbooks.

  In comparison to that long-ago teenage angst when his folks forced him to give up his record deal and finish school, the hurt of Keifer’s betrayal had ripped a hole in his soul that would never heal. What Teal had done burned, too, but it was the loss of lifelong friendship he grieved more.

  His upcoming album was filled with the heartbreak of losing his best friend and wife in the same moment. He could easily fill another ten CDs.

  Refusing to give in to that pain, he refocused his attention on the landscape outside. The starkly beautiful mountain peaks took his breath. The rising sun glistening off them shone brilliant gold. The intermingled green pines and quaking aspens with white trunks and red, yellow and copper leaves reminded him of a handmade quilt his mother had stitched in his childhood.

  “How high will we go?” He motioned to a granite cliff. “Up there?”

  “We’ll climb well above ten thousand feet at times,” she said. “But that particular area is dangerous. We want to avoid it at all costs. Only mountain sheep belong in shale.”

  “A guy could get killed pretty easily out here,” he mused.

  “Too easily.” Montana leaned forward to peer through the dusty windshield. “She looks welcoming, but the wilderness can be a real mean bitch if you’re careless.”

  That applied to most women, Johnny thought, not just Mother Nature. Beautiful to look at, wonderful to touch, vicious to those foolish enough to lose their heart. A mistake he wouldn’t make again.

  Enjoy a woman’s charms?

  Absolutely.

  Give her his heart?

  Never.

  The road narrowed and switchbacked up the mountain. As Montana slowed the rig to a crawl, Johnny rolled down the window to let his right arm hang out. The light breeze felt cool against his open hand. Compared to L.A.’s summerlike temperature, it was downright cold. Glad he’d packed plenty of warm gear, he idly wondered if the others had come as prepared.

  “It smells good,” he said. “Clean.”

  Without looking at him, Montana replied, “No pollution in our little corner of the world.”

  Fleetingly, he thought of the smog-covered city he called home. There was no such thing as fresh air or a bright blue sky. No such thing as a completely safe neighborhood. He’d bet his last dollar Montana and her neighbors didn’t even lock their doors.

  Like all his friends, he lived in a gated community with a myriad of locks on his house. Still, Teal had managed to get in. Hell, she’d almost killed him in his own home. Maybe a little overstated, but she’d marked him pretty good.

  Had she broken in again since he’d been gone? He smiled, thinking of her climbing into bed, expecting him and finding his dogs instead. His pack of furballs weren’t what she’d anticipate finding between his silk sheets. Maybe one of them would bite her. He chuckled.

  Wouldn’t she just shit to know he’d gone to the mountains, enjoying the company of a woman who apparently wanted nothing more from him than a paycheck? He couldn’t help comparing the pretty lady next to him to the one he’d married. Much like the differences between his city and this unspoiled land, they were like night and day.

  Teal would die before she wore a pair of worn Wranglers and scuffed boots like Montana’s. Although both were blonde, Teal kept her hair highlighted by an expensive salon. He imagined the streaks in Montana’s hair came from being outdoors.

  His ex had fucked like a wildcat in bed.

  How did Montana screw?

  He aimed to find out.

  For the first time since he’d found Keifer and Teal together, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter.

  A wide spot in the road drew his attention. Several mules stood tied to hitch rails, and a young man stood with them.

  “This it?”

  “Yes.” Montana pulled to the side of the road and set the parking brake. She glanced at him. “You ready?”

  “I can’t wait,” he said truthfully.

  She opened her door. “Then let’s get this party started.”

  ~*~

  Montana quickly introduced Ryan to their guests before unloading the horses. Tall and good looking, he’d turned more than one female head, but Adrian seemed less than impressed when he winked at her.

  “Are the mules packed?” Montana tied a sorrel gelding to the trailer.

  “Yup,” Ryan said. “All ready.”

  “Good job. Let’s get these people’s stuff loaded and we can go,” she said.

  They headed for the Jeep, where Joel met them. “Our rifles are on top.”

  “Shannon will show you which horse to put them on,” Montana said. “We brought extra scabbards if you need them.”

  “We have our own,” he said. “Thanks.”

  He took the first rifle, holding it like someone familiar with guns. A little surp
rised, Montana wondered where he’d learned to handle a weapon. The guy she’d known in college had been terrified of firearms. Once, a group of friends had gone to a shooting range. She’d talked Joel into going along, but he’d refused to shoot, too scared to try.

  Too busy to give the past much thought, she helped Ryan add their guests’ supplies to the panniers already hanging on the mules.

  Ryan untied his horse. “We ready to mount up?”

  “Yes.” Montana indicated the row of waiting horses. “Let’s get to camp.”

  While they’d been packing, Shannon had settled Adrian and Stoney on their horses. Rifle scabbards hung by each horse’s right shoulder. The hunters had tied bright down coats over bulging saddlebags and changed into vibrant orange vests with matching running pants. Montana imagined the man in the moon could spot them with all the color they sported.

  She tugged her own camouflage sweatshirt a little closer. She wore the required orange vest, too, but nothing like her hunters’ brilliant display.

  Johnny stood by the Jeep, adjusting something on his scabbard. Joel stood a few feet away, texting fiercely.

  “Better finish whatever it is you’re saying,” Montana told him. “Because in a few minutes you’ll be out of service.”

  He frowned and stuffed the phone in his pocket. “Right.”

  “I’ll help you on your horse.” Shannon led him toward the trustiest mount in the remuda—a little buckskin gelding named Shortstack. Joel followed her with a less than enthusiastic expression. A pair of enormous binoculars hanging around his neck bounced against his chest.

  Johnny stepped in Montana’s direction. “Looks like I’m it, huh?”

  “Looks like it.” She indicated the big dun still tied to the trailer. “You have Gunsmoke.”

  To her surprise, Johnny stepped forward, checked the cinch and untied the gelding. Under her watchful eye, he led the horse a short distance away, gave his neck a pat and mounted.

  So he had ridden before.

  Most of her guests expected her to wait on them hand and foot. Montana shrugged. This guy surprised her at every turn.

  She grabbed her own horse, Sunflower, a palomino gelding she’d raised from a yearling, and swung aboard. Ryan nodded when she waved him on. One by one, they fell in line. Adrian slipped in behind Ryan’s string of mules, then Stoney, and Shannon next. Montana waited for Johnny to drop behind Shannon, but he held the dancing dun in check, obviously wanting Montana to go ahead.

  “No staring at my ass,” she warned as she nudged the palomino with her heels.

  “Never.” His wicked grin belied the promise.

  Her lips curved into an unwilling smile in return. “Right.”

  The horses began to climb the steep mountain trail and Montana’s mind went to the mules, making sure their packs stayed straight. She didn’t have time to wonder if Johnny was watching her backside.

  As they climbed high into the Rockies, heavy gray clouds gathered, signaling an oncoming storm. Montana untied her brown Carhartt coat from behind her saddle and pulled it over her sweatshirt. The warm fall day had suddenly turned brisk and wintery. Not an uncommon occurrence in the mountains.

  She scanned the valleys below. Although clouds obscured some of the scenery, she scouted for game. A movement at the edge of some pines caught her eye—several elk grazed below.

  Catching Ryan’s attention, she pointed.

  He followed the line of her finger, nodding when he spotted the herd.

  Like a train screeching to a halt, Ryan reined in his bay gelding. The mules came to a stop, grateful for a chance to rest. The riders took note of the big animals below. One of the horses snorted and stamped. The group sat in silent awe as an impressive bull lifted his head, heavy with antlers, and bugled, his mating call echoing across the mountains.

  Pleased her hunters had seen such impressive game their first day, Montana glanced at each of them. Both Adrian and Stoney pulled out binoculars and aimed them at the enormous animal below. They stared transfixed at the bull.

  To Montana’s surprise, Joel had his phone out again. Instead of admiring the trophy elk like everyone else, he texted madly. Sure her eyes deceived her, surprised he could even get service, Montana watched his fingers fly over the screen, as if his life depended upon it.

  Curious if the rock star also found business at home more interesting than the animal he’d purportedly come to hunt, she glanced over her shoulder. Unlike the others, he’d slipped his rifle from his scabbard and pointed it at the elk. While she watched, he peered through the scope.

  So he knew how to sight a target.

  He’d been hunting before; maybe this whole trip wasn’t a complete farce after all.

  Wearing his coat—a black duster straight out of a western movie—with his trademark straw cowboy hat and long hair falling down his back, he looked like a mountain man.

  Sexy as hell.

  Whoa! What?

  Sexy?

  The lack of oxygen must be getting to her because there was no way in hell she’d ever find Johnny remotely attractive.

  Liar.

  The first man to remotely catch her interest since her ex fiancé had to be a bigger star than the running back. With even more women chasing him.

  Turning her head was one thing, acting on it another. Like she would a painting or statue, she could admire him without touching.

  Spooked, the elk suddenly fled.

  “Aren’t they something?” she asked.

  “Sure are.” Johnny looked her way and a slow smile slid over his face. “Incredible beauty.”

  He meant the elk. Surely.

  Holding her gaze, he pushed his rifle back into its scabbard. Sensual. Sexual. Deliberate.

  Telltale heat climbed up her face and she looked away.

  Ryan whistled to let the mules know it was time to move and the line of animals started up the trail, breaking the weird spell Johnny had just cast over her. Montana touched her heels to Sunflower’s sides.

  What the hell had just happened?

  It had to be the elevation getting to her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The campsite sat at the edge of a pine-edged bowl high in the mountains. Steam from a nearby natural hot spring rose in the chilly air, meeting the hovering clouds above. They obliterated the nearby peaks, and a steady cold drizzle had everyone hunching their shoulders against the onslaught.

  No one, including Shannon or Ryan, looked happy to be riding in a mountain storm. At this time of year there might be a foot of snow on the ground by morning, or the sun could be blazing. It was impossible to know.

  Montana and Ryan had ridden in earlier in the week to set three large white canvas tents in a semicircle near the pine trees. All they had to do was unpack.

  With only an hour left until dark, a lot had to be done in a short amount of time.

  Like a well-oiled machine, the trio of guides jumped into action. Dismounting, Montana led Sunflower to a pine tree and tied him, and then hurried to help Ryan with the mules. They unloaded coolers and supplies from the tired animals. Shannon made sure their guests dismounted and the horses were tied before she headed for the tents to start a fire in the big barrel stoves they’d packed in ahead of time.

  Someone appeared at Montana’s left elbow.

  Johnny.

  Rain dripped from the brim of his hat. “Where do you want us? Hand me something to carry.”

  Surprised by the offer, she pointed. “Guys’ tent on the right. Women to the left. All these coolers go in the middle one.”

  He nodded and chose the heaviest container. “Got it.”

  As Montana continued to unload supplies, the other hunters approached. Adrian stuffed a sleeping bag under each arm, Stoney grabbed a cooler and Joel selected their duffle bags. Johnny returned and picked up another load.

  The mules were unpacked and the horses unsaddled within minutes.

  Together, Montana and Ryan stowed their tack under a blue tarp staked between two giant
pine trees. He pulled a burlap bag free from the pile and dug inside it. Selecting a pair of hobbles, he bent and fastened them around a mule’s front legs. Satisfied the molly wouldn’t roam too far, he turned her loose. One by one, he hobbled every animal.

  Hopping like kangaroos, the herd headed for the mountain meadow to graze. Although they were free to move about, the hobbles kept them in camp. Satisfied they were content, Montana turned toward the cook tent, eager to warm up her icy hands. The scent of wood smoke filled the air. Shannon would have hot coffee ready for them.

  Montana and Ryan were hurrying toward the cook tent when Johnny intercepted them. “Do we have everything? Do I need to get the gang out here for anything else?”

  “We got it. Thanks.” With her chin, Montana indicated the canvas shelter. “Let’s get inside for some hot coffee.”

  “No problem.” He smiled and her heart stuttered. “A fire sounds good.”

  In spite of standing in the pouring rain, her body suddenly heated. “Yes.”

  Shannon had a fire blazing and the scent of hot, bubbling coffee filled the air as they entered. Everyone sat in camp chairs in a semicircle around the stove.

  “Coffee?” Shannon held up the pot.

  Montana rubbed her cold hands together. “Please.”

  “Hell yeah,” Johnny said.

  Montana and Johnny took the last two empty chairs while Shannon filled two mugs for them. The number of people in the tent forced everyone close. Montana’s knee bumped Johnny’s.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “Not a problem.”

  Something deep in Montana’s stomach folded and unfolded. Her hand shook as she lifted the mug to her lips. But not from cold. With so many bodies packed into such a small space, being chilled wasn’t the issue.

  Being so close to Johnny made her long for things she couldn’t have.

  Raising the cup, she sipped the strong black brew. The question of why this particular man had her hormones spinning out of control confused her. She’d been around animals her entire life and understood base attraction. That had to be all the funny fluttering in her belly amounted to.