Stormwalker

by Dallas Schulze

  "Dog is around somewhere, and I'll just be at the pond. If there's any problem, just give a yell."

  She nodded without looking up, and a second later he was gone. Her fingers, which had been so busily delving through the pack, suddenly went still and she slumped back against her saddle. Her hand was shaking as she shut the saddlebag and set it aside. The contents were a hopeless jumble, but she didn't care.

  What was she going to do about Cody Wolf?

  It would be insanity to get involved with him. They had nothing in common. Not like David. She had a lot in common with David. David lived in L.A. He understood her career. David loved her, wanted to marry her. She'd even been considering the idea. David was a nice man. She was fond of him. When he made love to her, it was a pleasant experience. It would be smart to marry David.

  So why couldn't she remember what David looked like?

  She almost moaned aloud with frustration. Why was it that, even now, all she could think about was Cody standing naked in the pond? The cool water glistening on his flesh, his legs braced slightly apart to stand against the current.

  She shook her head, trying to shake away the vivid image. It was just the circumstances. She was dependent on him, not only for her own safety, but also for Cullen's rescue. He was the only hope she had. It was hardly surprising that some of her gratitude and the isolated situation should translate into a kind of sexual attraction.

  Sexual attraction? That seemed to be a rather mealymouthed description of the way she all but burst into flames whenever he came near. And it had started the moment she first saw him, when she'd turned to find him at the bottom of the porch steps, and her heart had slammed against her ribs in a way that had nothing to do with being startled.

  With a muttered curse, she surged to her feet and began preparation for the evening meal. Beyond the circle of firelight, darkness was complete. At another time, Sara might have been nervous about being alone among so much wilderness, but right now her own thoughts were more frightening than anything that could lurk in the dark.

  Dog trotted into the firelight and sat down next to her, watching as she angrily stirred the freeze-dried packets of food into a meal. She set the pan next to the fire and sat back on her heels, reaching over to absently scratch the huge dog behind his ear.

  Until then she hadn't voluntarily touched him, preferring to let him make any overtures that seemed appropriate. But the results of her automatic gesture were amazing enough to snap her out of her preoccupation. Dog's whole body stiffened and he let out a soft whimper before collapsing at her feet. Sara jerked her hand away, wondering if she'd triggered some primitive instinct that was going to result in his going for her throat.

  But, looking down at him, she realized that his expression was one of absolute ecstasy. Hesitantly at first, she reached out to scratch his ear again, and his huge frame quivered with pleasure. The sight of the ferocious-looking animal reduced to a puddle of mush was enough to make her forget her disturbing thoughts. In fact, she welcomed the distraction. She was getting nowhere by going around and around in circles over her feelings for Cody.

  When Cody stepped into the firelight, she looked up at him, her face alight with amusement. He stopped, caught by the glowing beauty of her, fighting the urge to draw her into his arms and crush the smile from her mouth.

  "You could have told me it was all a put-on."

  Her complaint held an undercurrent of amusement, and his eyes lowered reluctantly from her face to Dog, who lay at her feet, obviously a slave for life. There was such a look of bliss in Dog's narrowed eyes that Cody's mouth widened in a smile that matched Sara's.

  "I see you found his weak spot." He bent to tuck his dirty clothes into a pack and then crouched down next to the fire.

  "You might have told me that his ferocious exterior concealed the heart of Jell-O."

  Cody's smile widened as he poured a cup of coffee from a battered tin pot. "Don't be fooled. If he thinks there is a need, Dog is more than capable of living up to his exterior." Dog lifted his head from where it had been resting against Sara's feet and blinked at Cody, his shaggy tail shifting in a shallow wag.

  Cody reached out to scratch the dog's ear at the same moment that Sara moved to do the same thing, and their fingers touched. The light atmosphere popped as if it were a bubble that had drifted too close to a flame. The electric shock that surged through them at that contact was powerful enough to silence them both.

  She pulled her hand back as if burned, which was just how she felt—burned by the heat that sizzled between them. She cleared her throat, willing her voice to steadiness.

  "Supper's done."

  They ate in total silence, and Sara had to force down every bite. She couldn't concentrate on anything except the man across the fire. No matter where her thoughts drifted, they seemed to come back to him. She wanted him to go away and take this disturbing new awareness with him.

  She wanted him to cross the few feet that separated them and take her in his arms.

  She wanted to scream with frustration.

  They didn't sit by the fire talking that night. Something had happened during those moments by the pool and the short ride back to camp. It wasn't possible anymore to pretend to a casual friendliness. Whatever was between them could never be casual.

  Sara crawled into the tent as soon as the evening meal was over and everything had been put away. Not that she could go to sleep, but she preferred to lie in her sleeping bag and stare at nothing rather than to sit out by the fire until the tension grew unbearable.

  Somehow, in those moments by the pool, they'd lost the ability to keep things light. She stirred restlessly. Did he know that she'd seen him watching her? She flushed at the memory of that moment when she'd seen him above her. It was only a quick glimpse, but the image was indelibly etched in her mind.

  With the sun behind them, he and Dancer had been little more than a bronze silhouette on the hill above the pool. She'd felt his eyes before she'd seen him. And she'd known he was watching her. The thought should have upset her. At the very least, it should have sent her diving for her clothing. She blushed in the darkness, remembering the way her breasts had seemed to swell. She'd enjoyed knowing his eyes were on her. She'd wanted it to be more than just his eyes.

  She turned onto her side, drawing up her knees within the confines of the sleeping bag. Since Evan's death, she'd been totally in control of her own life. She'd had to be. With a young boy to care for, she couldn't afford to be anything else.

  She hadn't eased that control, even for David. In the five years they'd known each other, he'd learned to deal with the fact that she wouldn't lean on him. A year ago, when their relationship eased from their being friends into their becoming lovers, that hadn't changed. But there was something about Cody Wolf that made her feel as if she'd lost control. As if their relationship was headed for some predetermined ending about which she had very little say.

  Cullen. She had to concentrate on Cullen. He was the only really important thing right now. His rescue was all she should be thinking about. She closed her eyes, building a picture of her nephew in her mind. Shaggy blond hair and a thick blond mustache formed the frame for eyes as blue as a summer sky. At eighteen, he could easily pass for twenty-five. There was a maturity about him that made it easy to forget how young he really was.

  Tears stung her eyes. He just had to be all right. Cullen had been the glue that held her life together, the driving reason behind everything she'd done since her brother's death. He'd been her little brother, her son and her best friend. She simply couldn't lose him.

  She drifted to sleep with Cullen's image firmly in mind, only vaguely aware of trre hard planes and angles of another face, intruding with emerald eyes, looking at her with a challenge she was not yet ready to answer.

  She didn't stir when Cody slipped into the tent and crawled into his sleeping bag, but she woke in the night, again to his mumbled words and restless stirring. She stared through the darkness, listening to
his staccato muttering. "Twisted silver and columbine eyes and death. Too late. Too late." Tonight, his nightmare didn't wake him, and at last he lay still and silent once more. Sara lay awake a little while longer, a fantastic idea forming in her mind.

  ❧

  They started early the next morning after a cold breakfast of granola and reconstituted powdered milk. If Sara had hoped that last night's tension would disappear in the clear light of morning, she was doomed to disappointment. If anything, it seemed to have increased. Cody's restless sleep showed in the dark shadows beneath his eyes. Maybe that was why a shimmering tension seemed to surround him. She wasn't the only one to sense it. She noticed that Dog showed a distinct tendency to avoid him, and even Dancer seemed to shy away when Cody went to saddle him.

  When all signs of their camp had been obliterated, Sara mounted Satin and waited while Cody ran a final check on the pack animals. When he mounted Dancer and started the stallion out, she abandoned her accustomed place behind the pack horses and nudged Satin up to walk next to Dancer. Cody threw her an unreadable glance from beneath the brim of his hat, and Sara gave him a wide, guileless smile, calling up every bit of acting ability she'd ever had to use in her modeling.

  "It looks like a beautiful day."

  He tilted his head to look at the clouds building along the tops of the mountains and then arched one brow in her direction. "We'll have rain before nightfall."

  He fixed his gaze firmly ahead of them but Sara ignored the hint. There were things she wanted to know. "You must have spent a lot of time in the mountains."

  "Quite a bit."

  "You seem to know them so well."

  "I don't claim to be an expert."

  "Have you lived around here very long?"

  "Most of my life."

  Her hands tightened on the reins and Satin sidled a bit in protest. How was she supposed to find out anything when he answered practically in monosyllables?

  "Do you do a lot of camping?"

  "Not too much."

  "Have you—"

  "Look. Why don't you just come out and ask whatever it is you're angling for? And then I can tell you that it's none of your damn business."

  The abrupt flash of temper cut through her words, startling her into silence. He hadn't even bothered to turn his head to look at her. The realization brought a matching flare of temper from her. She'd tried to lead up to it tactfully, but if he didn't want that, she'd just jump right in.

  "How do you know where the crash site is?" She'd asked him once before, at the ranch, and he'd ignored the question. At the time, she hadn't really noticed the deliberate omission. It hadn't been important. But now she wanted an answer.

  Cody's shoulders tightened as if she'd laid a whip across them, and Dancer reared in answer to some pressure from Cody's long fingers. Satin neighed nervously and twisted away from the bigger horse, and for a moment, Sara had her hands full controlling the mare.

  When the two animals were again pacing quietly, Sara looked at Cody expectantly. When he didn't speak or look at her, she nudged Satin a little closer, frustrated by her inability to read his face. "Cody?"

  "What?" The one word held a wealth of warning, but she refused to be intimidated.

  "How do you know where to find the crash?"

  "What difference does it make?"

  "I don't think it's unreasonable to want to know that."

  "Well, I do." The shock of his flat refusal to answer tightened her fingers on the reins, and in obedience to the signal, Satin stopped. Sara sat in silence for a long moment, watching Cody's back. When the second packhorse pulled level with her, turning to give her an indifferent look out of soft brown eyes, Sara pressed her heels against the mare's flanks and urged her forward until they were side by side with Cody and Dancer.

  "I think—"

  "Drop it."

  "I won't drop it. I don't see—"

  "Drop it, Sara!" And the look he gave her was so full of command that she found herself automatically obeying. Her hands tugged on the reins, and Satin gradually dropped back until they fell in line behind the second pack animal.

  The day did not improve as it aged. The animals acted as tense and nervous as Sara felt. As the sun rose higher in the sky, it was gradually blocked out by the heavy bank of clouds that was building among the higher peaks. Whether it was the impending storm in nature or the suppressed storm between the two humans that was causing the problem, the horses were skittish and hard to control.

  Sara found herself having to draw on her rather thin riding skills to keep Satin calm. The mare showed a tendency to shy away from anything that moved, and as the wind picked up, there were more and more things that moved. Bushes, trees, the wind itself—all seemed to offer some threat that Satin was determined to avoid. It was like being on a carnival ride, never knowing when the horse was going to spook one way or another. Sara let her body relax in the saddle, swaying with the mare's movements, keeping her hands firm on the reins.

  When lunchtime rolled around, Cody halted just long enough to hand her a chunk of beef jerky.

  "There's a cave about two hours' ride from here." His eyes scanned the horizon and Sara could hear the concern in his voice. "I think we've got time to make it before the storm hits. Are you managing okay?"

  His eyes settled fully on her and she felt the impact clear to her booted toes. The brim of his hat shadowed his face, making it all angles and planes, his eyes unreadable dark pools. She reached up to tug her own hat farther down over her eyes, as if it could offer her some protection.

  "I'll be all right."

  He nodded. "Once the storm actually breaks, the horses will calm down." He leaned forward to lay his hand against Satin's neck, crooning softly to her. The mare calmed instantly, as if she'd never known a nervous moment in her life. "It's the waiting that upsets them. Just talk to her and keep a strong hand on the reins and you should be okay."

  He turned Dancer and rode back to the pack animals. Sara watched him, feeling as if he'd laid a soothing hand on her also. She chewed on her jerky, taking some of her uncertainty out on the chewy piece of meat. The animals weren't the only ones who didn't like storms.

  By the time they reached the cave, it was hard to say who was more tense, Sara or her horse. The ride had been exhausting. As the clouds grew darker and heavier and the wind picked up, Satin had danced skittishly at every blowing leaf. It was as if she knew that nature was building up to something big- and she didn't like the idea of being out in it.

  The opening of the cave was wide and inviting but Cody brought them all to a halt outside and swung down off Dancer. Sara held out her hand automatically when he handed her Dancer's reins and the leading ropes of the two pack animals.

  "I'm going to make sure it's still unoccupied." She shuddered and bit her lip on a protest when he drew his rifle out of the boot on Dancer's saddle.

  Dog seemed to know that they'd arrived at a place where they were going to stay for a while. He'd ranged ahead of them all day, only returning once or twice as if to make sure that they were still following. Sara had the feeling that he could sense the tension between the two humans and preferred to avoid it. He slipped out of the forest and nosed Cody's hand, announcing his arrival. Cody bent to murmur a few words to him, and Dog's nose dropped to the ground outside the cave, sniffing the rocky floor as the two of them entered.

  The minutes seemed to crawl by after they disappeared. The sky had darkened to a leaden gray that had the look of twilight more than midafternoon. Gusts of wind whipped the pine branches around, startling the horses into skittish prancing. Rain began to fall, just a light mist that did little more than moisten the landscape. But she didn't doubt that there was much more in store for them.

  Dancer rolled his eyes, obviously not liking the situation at all, and Sara held her breath, praying that Cody would return before the storm broke in earnest. As it turned out, Cody and the storm arrived at the same moment.

  He stepped out of the cave just as a
flash of lightning lit the sky with eye-searing brilliance. Thunder followed on its heels. Sara saw Cody's mouth moving, but whatever he was saying was drowned out in the thunder's rumble. The reaction from the horses was instantaneous. Satin skittered in one direction, the packhorses in two others and Dancer went straight up.

  Sara tightened her knees around Satin's barrel, trying to keep her balance. She managed to hold on to the mare's reins and one lead rope with one hand, but as he reared up, Dancer jerked loose his reins and the other lead rope. Beneath the dying roar of the thunder, Sara heard a shrill whistle and then a streak of black and white went by, following the path of the loose packhorse.

  Dancer spun in a tight circle and then stretched his big body out in the start of a dead run, heading back the way they'd come. From the corner of her eye, Sara saw Cody run directly into the path of the frightened horse. Her hands knotted on the reins, drawing Satin to a startled halt. Though only seconds could have passed, Sara felt as if she aged a hundred years as she waited to see the stallion run right over the man.

  Confused, Dancer slowed and swerved, trying to go around Cody. This was apparently just what Cody had been waiting for. In a movement almost too quick to see, Cody jumped forward, grabbing Dancer's mane and swinging himself into the saddle even as the stallion lunged into a full run.

  Sara forgot how to breathe as she watched horse and man disappear at a dead run. The rain turned from a light mist to a steady downpour, dripping off the brim of her hat.

  Moving automatically, she slid off Satin's back, feeling her knees tremble as her feet hit the ground. She leaned against the saddle for a moment, steadying herself. Now that the storm had actually arrived, the horses had calmed, and Satin allowed herself to be led into the cave without so much as a whicker of question. The packhorse followed the mare's lead, and within seconds they were all sheltered from the elements by the solid bulk of the mountain.