He tapped the rock with his fingertips. “I’ll never forgive myself for killing my brother.”
She understood how he felt. Sometimes, when feelings of guilt overwhelmed her, she wondered if she’d truly accepted God’s forgiveness for all the evil she’d done. “You might learn more about what happened by searching newspaper archives. Or you could ask your Mom what she remembers of the accident.”
“She’s already sad enough about losing Dad.”
“But Matt died at least ten years ago.”
“Sixteen. I’m twenty-eight.”
“So it’s been sixteen years, and you don’t believe your mom can talk about your brother’s death? From what I’ve seen, she’s a strong woman.”
He massaged his jaw. “You’re probably right. I’ll think about talking to her. But enough about me.” He put his hands behind him on the rock and stretched his back. “You ready to take a peek at the canyon?” The twinkle had returned to his eyes.
She gave him a playful nudge. “You said all that to throw me off guard.”
He repositioned to his hands and knees. “Nah, I tell all the girls I’m a murderer.”
“Don’t say that. You’re not a murderer.” And she wasn’t a thief or a prostitute or a junkie or—
He smiled. “You ready to go for it?”
She dropped onto her hands and knees beside his solid frame. Inch by inch they crept toward the edge. She felt no fear, just surprise that she was no longer trembling, that she wasn’t flustered by Mike’s nearness.
Tramp whined.
They ignored the dog and continued to crawl until their fingers reached the rim.
Kate liked seeing their hands side by side on the rock.
Mike flicked a pinecone over the edge.
She didn’t hear it land.
“This is it.” He winked at her. “Work your knees backward until you’re flat on your belly.”
Kate’s stomach flip-flopped, and she could barely recall his simple instructions. A close-up wink from Mike was enough to send her over the edge. She swallowed. Not literally, I hope.
Together, they flattened their bodies across the slab.
“Now, pull forward.”
One slide from the edge, he turned to her. “You ready, Kate?”
His blue eyes were warm and inviting, his lips just inches away. Tempted to touch his face and feel his skin, she instead looked across the empty expanse before her, acutely aware of his aftershave and the fact she’d never been so intimate with boulders, which had a surprising metallic scent. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Focusing on the far side of the canyon, she wriggled forward until she felt an updraft of air on her cheeks and dropped her gaze. “Oh ...”
Mike elbowed her.
She gasped.
“Sorry. I just wanted to ask what you think of the view.”
“It’s a long, long way down.”
Trees covered the slope on the far side of the canyon, but on the wall below them, gray granite columns of rock stood nearly perpendicular with the river, interrupted only by an occasional stunted bush or cluster of yellow wildflowers. A pair of hawks drifted in circles halfway down the chasm. Something dark emerged from the trees on the opposite bank of the river.
“What’s that?”
“A moose.”
“Do you think it’s Mangy’s son or daughter?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know if it’s Mangy’s progeny, but it’s some moose’s son. Those antlers are the clue. And look, there’s a couple kayakers coming up the river.”
It didn’t take long for Kate to relax and enjoy the scene with Mike. He pointed out his favorite canyon details and she asked questions, until Tramp whined again.
Mike turned. “It’s okay, boy.”
Kate folded her arms under her chin. “This is fantastic.”
“You can stay here while I get a fire started.”
“No way. If you leave this rock, I leave this rock.”
***
After a buffalo steak dinner, with fried potatoes and coleslaw, they lingered beside the campfire, drinking hot chocolate and watching the sunset paint the sky above the canyon. A fat, round creature the size of a large cat waddled into sight, its silhouetted shape shuffling across the reddened rim.
Tramp barked at the animal, which vanished in the rocks.
Kate looked at Mike. “What was that?”
“A yellow-bellied marmot.” Mike pointed at Tramp, who growled and sniffed the air but avoided the edge of the cliff. “He’s the real yellow-belly.”
Kate called Tramp to her side. After the collie lay down next to her, she turned to Mike. “I’m still waiting to hear what happened to your truck.”
He laughed. “You’re determined to dig all the skeletons out of my closet today.” But he told her the story of Old Blue and the bison cow.
Stroking Tramp’s head, Kate smiled and giggled as Mike recounted his OK Corral tale. Though she didn’t want the magical evening to end, the graying sky made her wonder how difficult it would be to find their way in the dark.
Chapter Sixteen
KATE SETTLED INTO THE saddle, ready for the ride back to the ranch.
Mike clicked his tongue. “Take us home, Lightning.”
His horse trotted toward the trail.
Honey followed.
Home. Kate hadn’t been able to call any place home for years … hadn’t wanted to call any other place home. But the Whispering Pines felt right, like the home-sweet-home she’d always longed for.
She glanced around the dark forest, amazed to see the trail was still discernible, as were the aspen trees’ silver trunks. Wyoming’s summer skies, she’d noticed, seemed to hold a dusky glow long after the sun dropped below the horizon.
Ahead of her, Lightning snorted and tramped an agitated sidestep.
Honey raised her head, ears pricked.
Kate patted her neck. “It’s okay, girl.”
She watched Mike patiently calm his horse. Unlike so many men she’d known, he seemed to be a genuinely decent guy—the real deal, as Aunt Mary would say. Maybe nothing more would come of their evening together, but she was glad they could be friends again.
Honey squealed and danced to the left.
Lightning circled and pranced, the whites of his eyes obvious even in the murky light.
Tramp growled.
Kate was struggling to maneuver her horse back onto the trail, when a snarling yowl knifed through the night, and a dark shape scurried between the horses.
Honey reared.
Kate grabbed for the saddle horn, but only grazed it with her fingertips as she flew backward. A loud snap echoed inside her skull and darkness sucked her into a hollow galaxy streaked with daggers of stabbing light.
She fought to remain conscious. But before she could part the haze that clouded her vision and understand the cacophony of sounds beating against her brain, shadows summoned her. She heard Mike’s voice calling, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Her body was too heavy.
“Kate!” His hand gripped her shoulder. “Talk to me!”
She fell down, down into the void. She could hear Tramp. The dog alternated between whimpers and growls, close, distant, close again.
“Are you hurt? Tell me what hurts.”
She wanted to sleep, to rest at the bottom of the black hole. She was so tired. But Mike tapped her hands, slapped her cheeks, yanked her to the surface.
His breathing sounded labored. “Please answer me.”
She felt Tramp lick her face. Slowly, she opened an eye.
Mike loomed inches from her face. “Can you see me?”
“Yes.” She could only whisper. “What …?”
“The horses spooked. Then Honey threw you and took off.”
“She’ll …” She forced her other eyelid open. “…get lost.”
“Don’t worry about Honey. She’ll find her way to the ranch before we get there.”
Kate tried to lift her head, but an e
xplosion behind her eyes forced it back down. “She groaned. “What was … animal noise?”
“A cougar. But it’s gone now. Tell me where you’re hurting.”
She took a ragged breath. “I thought it would be bigger.”
“What would?”
“The cougar. Its paw prints were so big.” Kate bit her lip against the pain that slipped through the haze.
“Did you see it?”
“I saw something dark run across the trail, but it was small.”
“The cat was probably chasing a smaller animal, and we got in the way.”
She moaned.
He leaned close again. “What hurts, Kate?”
“My head … my leg.”
“Which leg?”
She had to think about the source of the pain, which was beginning to encompass her entire body. “Left.”
Mike palpated the leg through her jeans.
“Ouch!” The pain was incredible. “Stop. Please.”
He lifted his hand. “Your leg is broken.”
Tramp nudged her neck.
Mike smoothed hair from her cheek. “I’ll have to go for help.”
“I could ride with you on Lightning.”
“If you have a back or neck injury, riding could paralyze you. Or permanently mess up your leg.”
She clutched his arm. “But I don’t want you to leave me.” What was she saying? She’d learned long ago not to ask any man for anything. She released her grip.
“I have to go. But I’ll leave Tramp here.”
“Can’t you radio for help?”
He exhaled an exasperated huff.
She turned away. “I’m sorry, I just thought …”
“I’m not angry with you.” He bent down and kissed her forehead.
She blinked. What was that about?
“I’m mad at myself for leaving the radio at home so nobody could bother us …” He shook his head. “I told you you shouldn’t trust me.”
“Oh, Mike.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. Even in the gloom, she could sense the depth of his chagrin. “I am touched beyond words that you wanted to have an evening alone with me.”
He wrapped his hand around hers.
A sharp pain stabbed through her leg. Kate gasped and jerked.
He released her hand. “I have ibuprofen in the saddlebag. We’ll load you up and trust it keeps the pain bearable until I get help.”
When he walked away, the night, which had seemed to glow earlier, pressed down so hard Kate wondered if she’d sink back into the abyss.
He returned with full arms and a glowing flashlight. “I’ll help you swallow some pills then leave the rest with you along with a water flask and the flashlight. I also brought blankets and a revolver.”
She moved her head back and forth. No more stars behind her eyelids, but a headache mushroomed between her temples. “I can move my neck. I think it’s okay.”
He tapped pills into her hand. “I hope so, but we’d better not take any chances.” He handed her the canteen. “See if you can drink without raising your head.”
She swallowed the pills.
He took the canteen and covered her with the blankets.
“What’s with the gun?”
“Wildlife. Tramp will chase off anything that wanders by. The gun is just added insurance.” He moved the flashlight and revolver where she could reach them. “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
She hated to admit guns and violence were a part of her past. But she didn’t want him to worry. “Yes.”
“Good. It’s loaded. Don’t hesitate to use it, if you need to.”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”
“I hate to leave you, but it’s getting late. I’ll bring help as fast as I can.”
“I know you will. I trust you, Mike.”
“You’re a trooper.” He pressed his lips against her forehead one more time.
She touched his jaw again, reveling in the smoky smell of his shirt and the feel of his lips on her skin and her fingers on his.
“Better go.” His voice was husky. He mounted Lightning and rode several yards up the trail, Tramp running alongside the horse. Mike stopped to interlace aspen saplings across the path and hang a canvas bag from the juncture. “This’ll be our marker, so we don’t trample you in the dark.”
She could barely see him, but she could tell he motioned to his dog. “Stay, Tramp. Take care of Kate.” And he was gone.
Tramp trotted to her side. Like a stalwart soldier, he stood at attention, uttering soft, sad moans as he watched the dusk devour his master.
Kate felt her tears slide into her hair. In a matter of days, she was sprawled across another trail. At least she was on her back this time, not her belly. She blotted her face and hair with a blanket. Last time Mike had found her. This time, he left her. But he’d promised to return. Already, she longed for his touch.
She expected the forest to be deathly silent after Lightning’s hoofbeats faded away. But birds continued to call, a stream splashed over rocks not too far away, and she could hear an owl hooting in the distance. Although she couldn’t identify other rustlings and chiseling noises, none of them sounded dangerous.
Then she remembered she lay at snake level, in snake territory. What sounds did snakes make? She could tolerate a squirrel hopping on her chest. Well, maybe. But the thought of the slimy snake in her bathroom sink slithering across her face was more than she could bear. What if it wrapped itself around her neck? Or a mouse burrowed into her hair? Or a tarantula? Did tarantulas live in Wyoming? Or black widow spiders?
She scratched her scalp with both hands, released the breath she’d been holding, and shut down her imagination. With God watching out for her and Tramp snuggled next to her, she could hang on until help arrived. That is, if the pills ever kicked in.
She clutched the blanket. Maybe she could forget about her leg and her proximity to reptiles by thinking about Mike—his tender touch, his gentle eyes, his stubbled cheek. She smiled. And his lips on her forehead. She stopped. But he would never have kissed her if he knew who she was, how different she was from him.
Though her parents had taken her to Sunday school when she was young, only a couple short-term foster families had been church attenders, unlike his family. She hadn’t learned many religious songs. He’d been raised on church music and could play the songs on his guitar. She had a terrible reputation. His was sterling. Even if he was responsible for his brother’s death, which probably wasn’t the case, it was an accident. The crimes she’d committed, she’d committed on purpose.
If their relationship grew serious, she’d have to tell him the truth. But she couldn’t let it go that far. She tucked her arms under the blankets. He needed a pure bride—a woman like his mom—to be the mother of his children. A long-term relationship was hopeless. But she could dream tonight and maybe forget the pain and the cold hard ground that seemed to grow colder and harder by the second.
Tramp yipped and leaped to his feet, jostling her body.
A searing spasm shot up her leg. Kate cried out but managed to grab the flashlight and the gun and sit up. Switching on the light, she aimed the shaky beam at the bushes on the other side of the trail.
Two green-gold spheres glowed from the foliage. Her breath caught in her chest. Was it the mountain lion?
The dog growled.
The creature snarled.
Tramp stepped closer.
Kate whispered, “Stay, Tramp.” Whatever it was might maim or kill him. Then she’d be left to fend for herself.
Tramp hesitated.
“Stay.” Her voice quavered.
Unblinking, the golden orbs continued to smolder in the light. The creature snarled again.
Kate gasped and raised the revolver, drawing the hammer back with her thumb. She wrapped her finger around the trigger.
Tramp growled and charged at the bushes.
The eyes disappeared.
She swung the light in every direction, searching
as far as the beam could reach, including the treetops. All the while, she called the dog’s name.
Finally, Tramp returned to her side. But he sniffed the air for a long time, his throat reverberating with a low growl.
She hugged him, not knowing if she shivered more from cold or fright. “What do you think, Tramp? Is it gone?”
The big dog whined and licked her cheek then sat erect. Eyes wide, ears pricked, nostrils flared, his head never stopped moving. Though the forest seemed to settle for the night, he remained on duty.
Assured that the mystery animal had lost interest and Tramp intended to stand guard until Mike returned, Kate raised the blankets to her shoulders and lay down. She shook and ached all over, but the pain was tolerable. And, thank God, her neck and back were okay. She’d been able to sit up.
Despite the throbbing and the fear and the chill that seeped into her body, she slept. The ache in her leg edged again and again into her conscience. But each time she awakened, Tramp laid his head on her chest, and she fell back to sleep.
Kate dreamed she and Amy and row upon row of other female inmates stood trembling under the glare of immense white lights and endless coils of razor wire. Layers of frost fell from a bitter sky, encrusting the orange-clad inmates until they resembled Ice-Age leftovers. All around her, captive women broke free from their translucent straitjackets. Their chilly restraints crackled and popped and pierced the raw night with spear-like slivers of flying light.
But Kate, frozen as solid as a slab of marble, couldn’t even open her mouth. She groaned in despair when the single teardrop that escaped her eyelid solidified into a stone mole next to her nose, for she knew she would never be warm or free again.
A roar ripped Kate from the dream. She jerked to a sitting position.
Tramp barked and shot toward the sound.
The black forest echoed with guttural growls and the squawks of startled birds. Wrapping her cold fingers around the flashlight, she flipped it on, but saw nothing but thrashing branches. Though fur flashed across the beam, she couldn’t tell if it was the dog or the other animal. She fumbled for the pistol with her free hand and found it.
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