He couldn’t help being glad he had bathed in the Platt River that morning and had shaved, then wondered why it mattered. What the hell was she doing here anyway, looking ready to ride and all? He had had all winter to stop thinking about her, and now here she was again. Did she enjoy torturing him, or was she really so innocent of his feelings that she didn’t realize what she still did to him?
General Casement was standing beside her, but Colt didn’t see Stuart anywhere. Had Sunny come alone? With two other trains between hers and the crewmen, few of the workers were in any kind of hearing distance; most kept too busy to pay any attention to his approach. With the time that had been lost over the winter, Casement was working the men at an even more rigorous pace in the renewed race to beat the Central Pacific’s progress.
He watched Sunny’s eyes as he drew Dancer to a halt near her and Casement. What was it that he saw there? He couldn’t quite read it, but her face was slightly flushed. She nodded to him, and he tipped his hat. “Miss Landers,” he said respectfully, a wary look in his eye.
“Travis!” Casement frowned. “I was beginning to worry about you. You’ve been out for days.”
“Just being extra careful. I rode a little farther north than normal. What’s the problem?”
Casement finally grinned. “No problem. You have a very important job today, one that I am sure will be much more pleasurable than your regular duties. It seems Miss Landers has decided that before she goes back to Chicago, she wants a last look at the country she loves best. She’ll be gone for quite a few months after this. She’d like to go riding, get a last look, so to speak.”
Colt felt Sunny’s eyes on him. “What’s that got to do with me?”
“Well, she wants you to be the one to take her.”
Colt scowled, looking back at Sunny, but she was turned toward her horse.
“I tried to talk her out of this—considering the danger and all,” Casement continued. “But she seems to think that if she’s with you, she’ll be safe. She would rather ride completely alone, but that’s out of the question. She doesn’t want a whole army of strange men coming along, so that ruled out a soldier accompaniment and the other scouts. I guess it’s just you. Just hang back and let her ride—keep an eye out.”
Colt looked at Sunny again, and this time she met his gaze. It seemed she was trying to tell him something in that look, but he couldn’t quite believe her eyes meant what he thought. What in hell was she after? Why was she doing this to him? “You probably should take more than just one man, Miss Landers,” he told her.
She shook her head. “No. Just you.”
There was a strange determination in the words. Apparently, she wanted to be alone with him, maybe needed to talk about something. But what? And why couldn’t they talk right there? “It’s too damn dangerous. We expect more Indian trouble than ever this summer.”
“You know your job. It’s my own risk. If something happens, it’s my fault, not yours.”
Why did he detect a double meaning to the words? All common sense told him to refuse, even if it meant losing his job. He looked at Casement. “I don’t like the risk. She’s too important.”
“Well, I don’t like it either, but when Miss Landers makes a request, we try to be obliging. You mind your manners now, and be extra alert. I would ride north if I were you. The Cheyenne most likely camped farther south for the winter. If they’re coming, that’s the direction they’ll come from. Those in the North are probably on a spring hunt. I expect it will be another month before any real trouble comes.” The man turned to Sunny and nodded. “You do what Colt tells you, Miss Landers. If he thinks it’s wise to come back, then come back. He knows his business, and I know you’ll be safe with him, since the two of you already know each other.”
Sunny looked up at Colt. “I have every confidence in Mr. Travis.”
She turned and mounted up, and Colt thought she looked as tempting straddled on a horse as ever. He felt his anger rising.
“Thank you, General,” Sunny told Casement. “Don’t you worry. I’ve got a rifle of my own along, the latest in the new Winchester repeaters; and I know how to use it. My brother made me learn after that Indian attack the last time we were out here.” She glanced at Colt with a daring look in her blue eyes. “Maybe Mr. Travis and I can have a shooting match. It might be fun.” She kicked her horse into a fast run, and Colt turned to Casement.
“Just remember, I objected to this. I don’t want to be hung out to dry if something happens.”
“You won’t be. You heard the woman. Now, get going and stay alert.” Casement turned to walk back to the crew, and Colt reluctantly rode out after Sunny, noticing she was slowing down deliberately so he could catch up. He reached her and grabbed her horse’s bridle to stop the animal altogether. “What the hell is this, Sunny?”
Sunny wondered if he realized how hard her heart was pounding. Never had she done anything so daring, and never had she been so unsure that she would be able to tell him what she wanted to tell him, or be able to make the right decisions. Part of her wished she would have discovered he had left the railroad for parts unknown. It would have made this so much easier. She struggled to find her courage, wondering if she seemed to him like the foolish girl who had said good-bye to him at Fort Laramie.
“I just wanted to see you once more,” she told him, looking away again. “You left too quickly for me to talk to you the last time I saw you, and it would have looked odd if I had just invited you into my private car. This was the only way I could think of to get you alone and talk to you.”
He let go of the bridle. “About what? There’s nothing left to discuss anymore.”
She met his eyes again. “Yes, there is. You know it as well as I. Please, please don’t laugh at me, Colt, and don’t be angry. God knows I’ve never been more frightened in my life.”
He studied the eyes that had haunted him for years, wishing he knew what she was after. Part of him wanted to drag her back to safety by her hair and another part of him gloried in this chance to be alone with her again. “It’s a damn good thing that new regiment of soldiers that’s supposed to be coming isn’t here yet. Enough men have seen us ride off together as it is. Don’t you know how this looks?”
She raised her chin slightly. “I don’t care how it looks. After today I’ll go home and never see any of them again until the railroad is finished, and by then I’ll be—” She looked away. “Married.” She swallowed nervously. “Please, Colt. I really do want to take this last ride,” she said pleadingly. “Ever since I came out here, I haven’t had the chance to enjoy this country the way I’d like. No one knows what I’m doing, not even Stuart, certainly not Blaine.” She reached down and patted her horse’s neck. “It’s just something I need to do.”
She faced him again. “I just want to ride and ride, to forget about boardrooms and decisions and wedding plans and even the U.P.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the fresh spring air. “For one day, just one day, I want to be completely free and do something I want to do. I was hoping that you of all people would understand.” The pleading look he could never resist came back into her eyes. “Just be my friend today, Colt, like you always used to be. Be the man who wrote me those letters and who once taught me all about his land, taught me to love it. I want to laugh and be happy, and I want to share that freedom with someone who understands the need for it.”
All anger and resistance left him, as well as the common sense that told him this was as dangerous as it could be—not because of possible Indian trouble, but because of his own heart. She still had that sweet charm that made it difficult for anyone to tell her no. He leaned back and smacked her horse’s rump, and Sunny let out a little scream when the mare whinnied and took off at a hard gallop. Sunny leaned into the animal as though glorying in the ride, and Colt hung back a moment, watching her. There was a strange loneline
ss about her today, as though she were reaching out for something but not sure she wanted to grasp what might come to her. Was this some kind of final farewell to her freedom, to the land…and to him?
He goaded Dancer into a dead run, racing to catch up with her.
***
Whatever this day might hold for him, Colt had decided to quit worrying about it, and he knew Sunny felt the same. She seemed to want only to feel happy and free and unencumbered by the strains of her normal daily life and the enormity of the decisions she often had to make. She rode hard and wild, and before long Colt was caught up in her apparent quest to simply “be.” At times it was hard to keep up with her, and he found himself laughing at the way she galloped her horse up and down the Nebraska sandhills, sometimes throwing back her head and yelling like an Indian, laughing, feeling the sun on her face. It reminded him of how he had felt after returning from the war.
What kind of battle had Sunny been fighting to bring her to this? It was almost as though she had just been released from prison herself. As the day warmed, she unhooked her riding cape and wrapped it into the gear on her horse. She took off at another run, opening her arms, screaming to him how much she loved the bigness of the land. “I wish it would swallow me,” she called.
Colt kept chasing after her, wondering if she realized how watching her, having to keep coming after her, stirred desires in him that he had fought for so many years. He told himself it was his problem, not hers, that he was going to have to fight the pain. Was she afraid to marry Blaine? His heart ached at the thought that she was not going to be happy with the man.
It was well after one o’clock before she finally slowed her horse to a walk and asked him if he wanted some lunch. “Whatever you’re ready for,” he told her. “I do know you’d better rest that horse.”
She was all smiles. “Yes, I suppose.” She looked at him, her eyes running over him in a way that nearly destroyed his control. Why in hell did she keep looking at him that way? It was almost as though she were deliberately testing him. She stopped her horse completely and let it nibble at the sweet spring grasses. She turned and reached into one of her saddlebags, and Colt realized she had unbuttoned her blouse a little, he supposed because of the heat. He could see a good share of one breast, and he looked away.
“Here,” she told him. He looked back to see her handing over a piece of beef jerky. “This is all I want for now. Enough for you?”
Again he felt a double meaning to the words. He took the jerky and nodded. She was smiling that smile that made his own mouth water to taste her lips again. Did she think he had forgotten about that delicious night on the beach? He bit into the jerky and rode slightly ahead of her. “Got kind of warm.”
“Yes, but a beautiful day, isn’t it? Oh, Colt, I’ve wanted to do this for such a long time. I just never had the chance. You don’t have any idea how I used to sit in my room in Chicago and daydream about this, you and me riding wild and free—riding and riding and being a part of the land. It’s always been that way for you, and I envy you for it. For me, something like this is such a glorious treat. When I finally moved to Omaha, I thought I could do this more often, but I brought my way of life right along with me, and nothing changed. And when I thought you were gone for good, it didn’t matter anymore.” She trotted her horse up next to him and bit off a piece of jerky.
“Sunny, I wish I knew—”
“Don’t say it. Just enjoy the day, Colt.” She chewed the meat and swallowed, unhooking the straps of her canteen and opening it to take a drink.
Colt stared ahead, afraid to look at her. He chewed on some more meat, then grasped his ammunition belt and ducked his head to take it from over his shoulder. He hung it around the pommel of his saddle, then stuck the remaining jerky in his mouth and reached down to grasp his buckskin shirt, pulling it off over his head.
Sunny allowed herself a glance. Would she have the courage to tell him what she needed to tell him? Was it better left unsaid? Wild fantasies about him returned at the sight of his powerful masculinity when his shirt came off, and she was touched by the scar left from the Pawnee arrow wound. She thought about how he had suffered, the horrors he had seen.
“It’s getting almost too hot,” he told her. “You sure you don’t want to go back?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Just be careful you don’t let the sun burn that pretty face.”
She laughed lightly, lifting the canteen and drinking some more water. She offered it to him, and Colt met her eyes. He swore if he didn’t know her better, she was giving him a look of invitation, but he was not about to take that road. It could lead to nowhere but disaster for both of them. What in God’s name was this all about? The woman was to be married soon! What the hell was he doing out here in no-man’s land, riding with the richest woman in the country, a woman who dined with presidents and owned half of Chicago and dished out millions like pennies, a woman who was part owner of the very company for which he worked? This was the most absurd situation he had ever encountered! He took a swallow of water and handed back the canteen, then reached behind him to get out tobacco and a cigarette paper.
“That’s the scar from when you were wounded by the Pawnee, isn’t it?” she asked, her eyes resting at his right side.
Colt rolled himself a cigarette. “It is. I’ve finally managed to put all that behind me.”
She began undoing her braid. “Where do you go from here, Colt?”
He lit his cigarette and took a deep drag. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll wait and see where life leads me. I’ve pretty much always done it that way.” He removed his hat and hung it, too, around the saddle horn by its string. He ran a hand through his long dark hair, then turned to tie his shirt into his gear, the cigarette still in his mouth. “How about you? Why are you doing this, Sunny? You should be back in Chicago, making plans for a grand wedding, not out here riding like a wild woman who’s scared to death of her future.”
Sunny looked away, wondering if he knew what seeing him bare-chested did to her—his dark skin glistening in the sun, that cigarette between those full lips, those gentle hazel eyes. He was raw power, so sure, so handsome, so forbidden. “Who said I was scared?”
“Nobody. It’s just written all over your face, that’s all. Does it have something to do with marrying Blaine? You think you’re going to find some kind of answer out here?”
She shook out her own hair, enjoying the feel of letting the long blond tresses fall free. “I don’t know. I’ve never been sure about Blaine, and yet I should be.” She sighed deeply. “I should be the happiest woman in the world right now. I have everything…everything.” Her voice trailed off.
“That depends on what everything means. Look at what you have compared to me, and I pretty much feel I have everything, yet you could buy and sell me a million times over.”
She stared off at the higher bluffs on the horizon. “No, Colt. No one buys and sells someone like you. You’re your own man. You aren’t impressed by money, and you don’t judge people by it. That’s why I feel so good when I’m with you, in spite of how hard it is for us to be just friends. With you I don’t have to put on any airs, pretend I’m something I’m not.”
“Do you pretend around Blaine?”
“Sometimes.” She met his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you, and that I promised to let you go on with your life and me with mine. I know it’s best we have absolutely nothing to do with each other, but when I think of never seeing you again, or even being able to write you, or—” She looked at him pleadingly, her eyes tearing. “Once I marry Blaine, it really will have to end. That’s why I had to come out here, Colt. It isn’t fair to you, and it makes no sense at all; but I felt almost led out here against my better judgment.” She reached back and took a deep breath. “Now I don’t regret it at all. This has been the most wonderful day I can remember since when
Father and I came out here and he let me ride with you. It’s strange, isn’t it, how people move in and out of each other’s lives—how some things change so much but other things stay the same, like the land. When I come out here it’s as though the last ten years never happened.”
Colt smoked quietly for a moment. “But they did happen, Sunny. I lost my best friend, a wife, and a son; you lost your pa and became one of the most powerful women in this country. I’ve been through a war and a hell worse than death in that prison camp while you became part owner of a transcontinental railroad and built another grand home and offices in Omaha—became engaged to a man whose wealth probably matches or tops your own. My life has been one of tragedy and pain and dirt and a sort of going on from one pointless thing to another. Yours is filled with balls and boardrooms and diamonds and soon a wedding that will make the papers in other countries. Things do change, people grow apart, especially those who have no business being involved in each other’s lives.”
She fought the tears, realizing what he was telling her. He could not be a part of her life. It was like that night at Fort Laramie, a gentle good-bye, a painful lesson in what was right and wrong. But she also remembered Vi’s words about following her heart, about how love could conquer great obstacles. Did Colt believe that? She sniffed and wiped her tears, refusing to look at him.
“Dammit, Sunny, don’t cry. I told you that ten years ago.” He took another long drag on the cigarette, suddenly feeling awkward. He had spoiled her happy day. Damn her! he thought. How many times had he said that to himself? God, he loved her, and that was the hell of it. Should he tell her? How could it possibly help anything? It would only make everything worse.
She straightened in her saddle, retying her canteen. “I’ll always treasure our friendship, Colt. One thing no one can take from me is my memories, or my dreams.” She held her chin higher and faced him. “I’ll race you,” she told him.
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