“Around two.”
“What?” I hiss, “but that’s hours away!”
“Yes,” Jett intones calmly and looks back at me, his lean face is trembling with the urge not to laugh.
I bare down on him menacingly and he shouts with laughter, he slaps the rump of his stallion and gallops away to the other side of the pond and up towards a small rolling hill in front of us.
“You’re not getting away,” I yell after him. I spur my mare on and moments later the strong, clean wind is slapping my cheeks and stealing my breath. I forget about my hunger. I feel as if I’m gliding up the hill on a puff of air and any moment I’ll go airborne to soar above the trees. I feel someone’s eyes on me but I don’t look back.
Jett’s parents, Marjorie and Michael Walcott, are waiting for us at the next stop on an ATV packed with picnic baskets and drinks.
With the cattle munching in a shaded glade a quarter mile away, I settle down with Jett on a sun warmed rock, my hands full of a thick, turkey, prosciutto and salami sandwich with tangy mustard and pickles and a cold water bottle. I dig in like a starving calf.
Too late I realize that Colt is perched close on one of the dozen rocks behind us along with the four Mexican ranch hands helping on the cattle drive.
The thought of his eyes at my back unnerves me. I slip down from my rock and sit cross-legged on a dry patch of brown grass beside Jett. I’m halfway done with my sandwich when a shadow falls over us. I know it’s him before I look up.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks politely, his eyes on Jett. Jett nods and he plops himself down on my side.
I try not to squirm away from his knee which is now a hairsbreadth away from mine.
He sees my resistance, his mouth hardens and his golden eyes … look bruised, he sighs, “I don’t dislike you Angie.”
Confused I bite into my sandwich, and do the second stupidest thing, talk with my mouth full, “I ne …never … thought so,” I cough as a piece of bread gets stuck on its way down.
Colt grimaces with distaste, “can you not do that?”
Amazed I force out, “not do what … try to stop myself from choking to death?”
Both he and Jett reach out to help me at the same time but Colt’s hands are longer, he whacks me hard on the back, the blow pitches me forward, the bread flies out.
I slump back, gasping for breath. I avoid their eyes as embarrassment sears up my cheeks. I’m so grateful it can’t show thanks to the deep bronze of my skin, courtesy of Native American/black parents. Still shaking I lunge to my feet and put the remainder of my sandwich on a rock, “I think I’ll go for a walk,” I say without looking at either man.
“Ang-” Jett begins but I wave him back impatiently.
I walk off before he can stop me.
The glade with the cattle is peaceful, tall trees form cozy cocoons of peace. Stepping into its shadows I feel as if I’m in another pocket of paradise. I tip my head back and let the gentle ease flow through me.
Doubts start to come in. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come here … I should’ve listened to my parents and stayed home in Denver to help with their restaurant. I -
“I’m sorry,” Colt’s voice is low and right behind me.
I didn’t hear him come up. And I’m not feeling charitable, “you should just come out and say it,” I snap my back to him.
“Say what?” he asks and the note of perplexity in his voice only stokes my mounting irritation.
I whip around, nearly bump my nose into his chest and barely manage to catch myself as I stagger backwards a few paces. I glare at him, “say that you don’t like me, that you think I’m some sort of idiot who thinks that a few days on the trail will make her a bona-fide cowgirl,” the words hurt, more so because they are true. I want something … and this ranch, this cattle drive is the first time in years I’ve just been allowed to be.
Empathy leaps into his eyes, but he doesn’t mince words, “you are an idiot to some degree … but,” he holds up his hands as I draw a breath for an angry retort, “but I’ll try not to judge your reasons for being here.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I say waspishly.
“You’re welcome,” he rejoins, he flicks a look towards the cattle that have started mooing restlessly behind me.
I turn to look at them.
“Stop,” he says so softly that if it weren’t for the pure vein of steel in his words I would’ve challenged him.
His eyes track carefully back to mine, they are filled with calm, “there’s a rattlesnake behind you, it must’ve been asleep underneath one of the trees but it’s pissed right about now.”
An instant fear clutches my throat, making it hard to think, everything fades away and it feels as if I’m not even breathing, I’m so damned scared. There is only one path of escape.
I toss myself at Colt. He catches and shoves me behind him in one fluid motion. He whips out a cutlass from his back and lunges towards the serpent.
A single swipe of his wrist downward and he steps back. I bow down from my waist and begin to retch. Hot tears burn their way down my cheeks. I viciously swipe them away. I’m on a cattle drive for fuck’s sake. What else did I expect to come crawling out of the ground, fairy godmothers?
Colt walks slowly to me, the cutlass already out of sight. He’s careful to walk right in my line of vision blocking me from the writhing, dying body on the ground.
“Breathe,” he commands, he’s in front of me and he clasps my face firmly in his hands, he brushes away another escape tear that is standing on my cheek. His touch starts to haul me back to sanity. I jerk with the sudden, sharp sparks of life which race through me.
I stare in wonderment up at him. It’s insane but I’m still terrified, yet I feel … fiercely alive. Incredibly I start to whimper, wretched gulping sounds that barely make it past my lips. I shake my head trying to clear it. I know I’m in shock but I can’t seem to pull myself out of it.
His eyes search mine, his are full of brutal efficiency, a calm that tells me he can handle anything that gets thrown at him.
Including a crazy city gal.
He says gently, “you’re okay. I’ve got you. Take slow, deep breaths, one by one, don’t rush it.”
I do what he asks and when his thumb sink lower and hovers above my trembling bottom lip. I freeze.
And like that … it begins to happen. I see it dawning in his eyes which for the first time remind me of the sunrise, all brilliant and gold and so fierce it takes over everything in its path. I’m lightheaded again but it’s not because of a snake.
He wants to touch my lips, it’s there in his eyes. His pupils dilate, become twin points of piercing darkness focused on me. His thumb is an inch from my lip and the battle in his heart rages in his eyes. His finger starts to tremble as he fights it back.
I begin to ache, it’s so bad it’s a wonder I’m not crying out with it. It’s as potent and sudden as your very first bee sting. His shaking hands drift infinitesimally closer … we both watch it. My lips twitch with the burning urge to reach out and kiss his callused skin.
Hunger leaps into his eyes as he catches this thought in mine. His need for me is raw and demanding and so complete it’s the only thing I can see in his face.
He breaks away and whisks around. He’s heard it before I do. The crunch of grass and pebbles. Someone’s coming. Two ground eating steps and he’s away from me, back over towards the dying serpent on the ground. His broad back to me.
Jett comes up, eyes wide, they fasten on the snake at Colt’s feet. “What the hell Ang? … ” he looks at Colt, “shit man, did you just kill that?”
Colt grunts and Jett squeezes my shoulder and then goes to examine Colt’s kill. I watch them together for a moment longer, but my eyes are on Colt who won’t look at me. I go back to the ATV.
Marjorie is beside the vehicle, I glance at the rock, my sandwich is gone, the picnic basket is already packed with the remnants of our lunch.
Marjorie has Jett’s serene b
lue eyes. Her silky white hair is pulled into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, her gaze is direct, not warmth but intelligence shines from it. She’d been a nurse for over thirty years before retiring last year. Her figure is still slender with grace and her lean jean clad body reminds me of Jett, minus the muscles.
I smile sheepishly at her, point towards the basket, “need help with anything else?”
“No, dear,” she says coolly, she gives me a charming smile as her eyes continue to measure me, she laughs to take the sting out of her next words, “didn’t you like the salad I prepared for you?”
“What?” I shake my head to clear it, I vaguely remember spotting two tiny containers of salads, I nod absently, “I saw them but I didn’t think it was for me.”
Marjorie chuckles, “really my dear, you don’t think I brought salads for the men do you?” she says still coolly pleasant.
“I hadn’t really thought of it,” I reply absently.
She shrugs, “we girls can’t eat so much fat and we don’t wear it as well as the men.”
Ouch … that hurt. I clench my hands at my sides and try very hard to see the bright side of Marjorie’s opinion. Trouble is I can’t find any plus I’m still hungry.
“Will you excuse me,” I say rudely, without waiting I walk up to the picnic basket and open it, seeing my sandwich with my name neatly written on the white paper, I pull it out and take a large bite.
Marjorie watches me with cold amusement in her eyes, “You’re a sensitive one aren’t you?” she briefly touches my arm, her mouth is curled in a deprecating smile, “please don’t be insulted, I just tell it like I see it.”
I nod. I can respect that. She goes to sit on one of the rocks. I finish my food. Jett and Colt are still underneath the trees, they are moving around probably checking for other snakes. We have another four to six hours in the saddle before we make camp several miles further up the valley floor. Despite the snake I am looking forward to that.
A muffled curse comes from beneath a black ATV a few feet away. Michael Walcott’s head is stuck underneath it.
I go over, “Something wrong, sir?”
He peers out, grey scraggly brows smooth out, he smiles warmly at me, he has Colt’s golden eyes and it stuns me again at how lovely they are.
“The damn thing has decided not to start again,” he mutters gruffly.
“Need some help?” I ask and squat down beside him in the dirt.
A skeptical smile creases his mouth, “you know how to fix one of these things?”
I grin sheepishly, shake my head, “Nope. But I do know the difference between a wrench and a pliers. I can hand you anything you need for the job,” I motion towards a rusty toolbox sitting on the ground beside him.
He pats my arm, his kind eyes twinkle like fireflies, “you’re a good girl, but I need more than that. Get Jett.”
“Ok,” I bound to my feet and jog over to Jett and Colt, Jett sees me coming, “your dad needs you. ATV’s not working.”
I watch Jett go but I don’t follow him. I’m too conscious of Colt behind me. I begin to shift from one leg to the other.
“You can go,” Colt’s orders softly, there is smoldering anger in his voice.
At himself or me? It ticks me off and I face him my eyes narrowed, “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” I bite out under my breath.
He smiles but it’s more like a grimace, then he sighs and it’s a wearied, painful sound. His eyes soften, “You should leave now, while there’s still time for this not to happen,” he says barely above a whisper.
My mind rebels at what he’s suggesting … but he’s right. I shouldn’t stay.
But I can’t accept the fact that he wants me gone. My mouth trembles as unfamiliar words come tumbling out, “I don’t know why you’re treating me this way,” I meet his roving gaze which far from being detached is devouring every angle of my face. I search his eyes, “have I done something to piss you off since five minutes ago?”
I try for a silly smile but the intensity in his eyes burns me, trivializing my effort.
He reaches out to me and midway clenches his hand into a fist and stops. His face is pulled taut with growing sorrow, “this can’t happen Angie,” he walks away towards his horse tethered under a nearby tree.
I watch him go and a pang rattles inside my chest. A little voice in my head says, it already has.
Chapter three
“Hey babe, I gotta go back with my parents, the ATV is working but it could break down on the way back,” Jett’s apologetic smile is charming as ever.
Jett’s words break through my fog as I watch Colt saddle up his horse and ride down into the valley. He is gathering the cattle for the next haul of our journey towards their fall pastures.
I pull Jett in for a fierce hug, he wraps me into his strong arms, “whoa there,” he says surprised. He brushes my thick, black hair off my forehead, searches my eyes, his own are for once serious, “did you and Colt get into it again?”
I don’t know what makes me do it but I lie, “No,” my lips tremble. What can I say to him? That your brother unnerves me, makes me feel things I shouldn’t?
He plants a light kiss on my lips, I pull him in for longer, he tastes clean and open. It soothes me. I bury my face in his chest, “I’ll miss you.”
He tips me back, quirks a brow, “for four hours? Are you coming down with something?” he lifts the fold of my left eyelid.
I bat his hands away, “Stop. You’re training to be a park ranger not a doctor.”
“Near enough,” he grins, he gives me a last hard kiss on the mouth, “I’ll catch up with you guys later tonight. Have fun,” he throws over his shoulder.
From across the clearing the other ranch hands are already mounting. I start off towards my own mare and launch onto her back easily. Years of gymnastics and dancing has given me a supple, fluid body. I follow the line of men with Colt in the front as we fan out around the slowly moving herd.
We are going to bunk for the night in a narrow valley with a mountain stream cutting down through it. The moon is already halfway up the sky as I pull my legs from across my mare’s back.
I groan at the torment of my locked muscles. Riding all day feels as if my bones have been shaken out of their sockets. I slide gingerly to the soft carpet of grass and wince. Even touching the grass hurts!
Colt’s prediction of a four to five hour ride had turned into an eight hour haul. Mostly because several calves had strayed and we’d had to run them down all over the valley before getting back on track.
I wince as I try to make my body move.
I see Colt walking determinedly up to me, the sight of him brings guilt and despair. I don’t want him close to me. I try to bat him back, “I’m fine,” I grit out but I’m too late. His tall shadow falls across the side of my horse, then he’s beside me.
His hands find my shoulder, I yelp in agony at the first touch but just like the ruthless bastard he is, he ignores me and starts to knead through the wrought iron clench of my bruised muscles. Tears stream down my face but they quickly turn to ones of pitiful gratitude.
His fingers are like magic. He knows just where to press his strength and where to soothe. I follow the feel of his firm touch all across my shoulders and down my arms. He is working himself deeper into me with every touch –
I gasp and wrench myself from his hold. I stumble away from him. I’m panting hard, the effort has taken much more than my strength. It’s beginning to frighten me more and more. We stare at each other through the eerie glow of the moon which hides like a reluctant lover.
“Why did you do that?” he asks his voice gravelly.
Nausea swipes through me and I want to keel over and vomit, his face is in shadow but I can see through all that. His eyes show what I am beginning to want, “I can’t fall in love with you,” I whisper and this horrifies me because after just a few moments in his arms … I want too so much.
His hands, still warm from me, fists at his sid
e, he laughs but it’s a dry, humorless sound, “What if I told you that neither you nor I can stop this?” His shoulders slump, his words when they come again devastate my world, “what if I told you that for now, this moment, I need you more than Jett?”
His words hit me so hard, I stagger back as if from a body blow, “I’d say you’re a fucking selfish bastard,” I spit at him.
“Do you love Jett?” he demands roughly.
“Yes,” I answer unequivocally.
He takes a step towards me, his face is drawn, haggard in the moonlight, “Could you love me?”
“I … I ” I search his eyes desperately, I want to strangle him for putting me through this! “You already know the answer to that!” I yell and I don’t give a shit if any of the hands setting up the camp fire yards away can hear us.
He advances again cutting the last several feet between us in half, I take a step back, he stops, holds up his hands in surrender, his eyes plead with me, “I’ll stay put. I won’t move but I want you to hear me out, Ok?”
I jerk my head in acceptance.
“Jett called to let me know that he’ll be staying with our folks tonight, possibly tomorrow, he may not meet us until we cross the river and get into the prairie two days from now.”
I’m momentarily miffed that Jett didn’t ask to speak to me but grudgingly accept that I’d deliberately left my phone behind.
Colt takes a deep, ragged breath then plunges onward, “This is a fucked up thing to ask and you can say no,” his eyes are liquid and soft as he watches me, he clears his throat roughly, “give me this time. Pretend for these days that it’s just you and me-”
“What?” I choke out, his low opinion of me cuts to the bone, “I’m not some nasty whore Colt!”
“Stop!” he thunders, swiping his hand savagely through the thin darkness around us, “I’m not asking for sex, I won’t even touch you, just a chance to be with you in whatever way you can stomach.”
He stands stiff and apart from me and it hits me that he’s probably always been like this. Apart. The older son expected to shoulder the entire burden and voice none of the complaints.
Love me ... Again Page 2