by Pat Warren
He smiled at her. “I hear they make lousy house pets.”
“Oh, silly, I didn’t mean that. But they have such sad eyes.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve ever visited the Chicago slaughter houses.”
“No! And I don’t ever want to.”
“Still, you’re not a vegetarian?” He’d seen her eat her fair share of the beef stew tonight.
“No, I’m a head-in-the-sand carnivore who doesn’t want to think about those poor animals losing their lives so we can enjoy a meal.”
Jeff shrugged. “Survival of the fittest.” He glanced up toward an outcropping of rocks. “Take the mountain lion. He harbors no such thoughts. He’d pounce down on us, we’d be dinner for him and he wouldn’t give his conscience a second thought.”
Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder. “There really are mountain lions up here?”
“Could be. This is their territory and man is invading it. I suppose that’s why he feels its his right to devour us if the opportunity presents itself.” Jeff dropped his cigar and ground it out with his booted foot.
Tish got up. “Maybe we should go back with the others closer to the fire.”
He took her hand, pulled her effortlessly onto his lap, which had been his motive in bringing up the mountain lion in the first place. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”
In the pale moonlight, she studied his face. “Safe is a relative term.”
“Yes, well, I won’t devour you, but I might nibble a little around the edges.” And he bent to do just that along the silken line of her throat. He felt a shiver take her and wondered if it was from the chilly night air or his ministrations. “Mmm, you taste almost as good as you smell.”
She was silent, but she shifted slightly to give him better access.
Emboldened by the fact that she’d sought him out while the others were occupied, he nuzzled more, then with two fingers on her chin, he turned her face toward his and captured her mouth. The kiss was light, gentle, yet arousing. Her lips played with his, teasing, tempting. Her tongue darted into his mouth, then withdrew playfully. Jeff wasn’t certain how much more of this he could easily handle with her snug on his lap.
Needing to distract himself, he eased back and ran his fingers through her hair as it curled around her ear. “You have beautiful hair, did you know that?”
Tish frowned. “No. It’s just brown hair. Nothing special.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’d always thought people with brown hair got short shrift, too. Blondes are described in all manner of flattering terms, fussed over and envied. Those with black hair are described as ebony or jet or raven. But brown hair, I thought, was just, well, brown.”
“Exactly.”
“Ah, but not yours.” His fingers moved deeper now, threading through the thickness, lightly massaging her skull. “In the sunlight, I can see half a dozen shades of brown from russet to mahogany and auburn to brandy to chocolate. In the moonlight, there are amber streaks in it. Fantastic hair and you don’t even seem aware of how great you look.”
“Look, Kirby, flattery will get you absolutely nowhere.” But he could see her head drop forward as his fingers worked their magic on her scalp.
“So you say. Flattery is good if it’s honest. And mine is.”
Tish shifted so she was facing him. Smiling, she plunged both her hands into the thickness of his hair and studied his eyes in the moonlight. Suddenly, the smile began to slip and her look softened. Slowly, she moved her head closer and pressed her mouth to his in an openmouthed kiss that all but stole his breath away.
His senses swimming, Jeff came up for air. He was a little too old for these necking sessions that went nowhere. “You know, I’ll bet no one would notice or care if we moved our sleeping bags over here away from the rest.”
Her hazy eyes seemed to clear instantly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t relish being the talk of Red Rock Ranch.” She got off his lap and moved several steps away, looking just as shaken as he felt.
Jeff rose, too, his jeans uncomfortably snug as he walked to the stream. He picked up a rock and skimmed it across the surface, thinking maybe they needed to talk. Turning, he saw that she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her face turned up to study the stars. He wanted to pull her back into his arms, to ask her why she’d sought him out twice now only to cool down quickly. He thought that perhaps something in her past was keeping her from acting on her feelings.
Go slowly, he told himself as he moved closer but didn’t touch her. “I seem to be getting some mixed signals here, Tish. Or is it my imagination?”
Sighing, she finally looked at him. “No, it’s not your imagination. I…well, I don’t have to tell you that I’m attracted to you, Jeff. I like talking with you, being with you. But I’m very wary of things that happen too fast. I had that once, that swift, fierce attraction that seems to erase all your good sense. And it ended badly. I don’t want that again.”
Still not touching her, he stepped closer so he could see her features more clearly in the moonlight. Her eyes looked genuinely troubled. “It doesn’t have to be like that. We can go slowly….”
“Can we? The moment you touch me, I can’t think of anything but how much I want you.”
There it was, her confirmation of how she felt. “It’s that way for me, too. But I told you, I won’t hurt you.”
“Maybe not purposely, but—”
“I’m not him, Tish. I’m not the man who hurt you.”
Her luminous eyes met his and he saw her lips tremble ever so slightly. “Are you ready to tell me what happened?”
She walked back to the rock, sat down on the patchy grass and leaned her back against the cool stone. She waited until he joined her, taking her time, as if she were trying to find the right words. “I was in college in the East. A good school because, as you guessed, my parents had money. I didn’t know why but I was already rebelling against the good life, as my father called it. The privileged life that wealth can buy you.”
So very different from how he’d grown up, Jeff thought. Yet he knew that there were people who’d been born into wealth who developed a strong social conscience. He let her tell her story without interruption.
“But Eric had no such problems. That was his name, Eric Townsend. We met in a political science class. He was having trouble with it and asked me for help. He was in school on an athletic scholarship—basketball—and had to keep his grades up or he’d lose his funding. So I agreed to tutor him.”
Tish picked up a stone and began stroking it with unsteady fingers. “Are you sure you want to hear this?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jeff answered as he slipped his arm around her, mostly to let her share his body heat since the night air had become quite chilly. But he held her loosely, allowing her to sort out her thoughts.
“We studied together, but by the second day, he started making moves on me. I tried to keep him focused on his upcoming test, but he was very persistent and I was mostly inexperienced. I gave in and we became lovers.” Her voice was low, as if the words had been difficult to say out loud.
“We did get some studying in and his grades improved. I went to all his games and we spent most of our free time together, though we each had our own dorm rooms. I was twenty-one and thought I was madly in love, though something kept me from saying the words out loud. Not Eric, though. He told me over and over how much he loved me, what a great future we’d have together after graduation. He even asked me to marry him and, God help me, I was considering it. And he kept pestering me to take him home for Christmas break, that he wanted to meet my family. I thought that was rushing things a bit, but I finally agreed. We were going to drive to my house after our final classes on Friday. I finished early and went to wait for him in his room.”
Tish threw away the stone and crossed her arms over her chest, her expression bleak. “I shouldn’t have snooped, I know, but there were all these papers on his desk. I think I told mysel
f I’d just straighten things up a bit. But one paper caught my eye. My father’s name was on it.”
Jeff tightened his arm around her, fairly certain he knew what was coming next.
“I couldn’t believe it. He had my father’s financial report, his company’s end-of-year statement, his stock portfolio, his bank accounts, his total assets down to the penny. Don’t ask me how he got all that information, although he was one of the early whiz kids with computers.”
“It’s not that difficult if you know how,” Jeff said quietly.
“I suppose not. Anyhow, I was just staring at the papers when he walked in, all smiles, ready to go meet my family.”
“How’d he react when he saw that you knew what he’d been up to?”
“Oh, he denied he’d done it with anything terrible in mind, like marrying me for my father’s money since I’m an only child. He was just curious, he told me. No harm done, although maybe my father could put in a good word and get him a job at his firm. What was wrong with that? Eric wanted to know.”
“And what was your reaction?”
“I simply walked away and told him I never wanted to see him again. Naturally, he didn’t drop it, kept calling, writing, showing up, swearing he loved me. Love via Dun & Bradstreet. Wonderful. If that’s love, you can keep it. I went home, finished my classes by mail and never saw Eric again.”
Jeff wanted to punch the SOB for hurting her and wanted to reassure her that one encounter with a jerk didn’t mean all men were the same. “You had a bad experience with a heel, Tish. He claimed he loved you, but he was really after your father’s money and influence. I hope you don’t think I’m interested in you because of your father’s money.”
She turned her head toward him. “No, not at all. I’m saying I’m distrustful of anything that happens fast, and acknowledging you have strong feelings for a person you met a week ago is fast in my book. All that happened a long time ago, Jeff, but it was a terrible thing to go through, falling for a man, actually considering marrying him, and then finding out that all he wanted was my family’s money. Eric left a few scars on me. Under the same circumstances, I think you’d be cautious, too.”
“I’m sure you’re right. But I have no ulterior motives. I also think that sometimes people fall for each other quickly and other times it takes awhile. As for us, I think you should know that I’m having a lot of trouble keeping my hands off you. I don’t have a hidden agenda here. I’m being up front with you.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m being honest, too. I don’t know what it is, chemistry or something. But all I have to do is look at you and my heart starts to pound.”
He shifted her into his arms, placing one hand over her heart. “I see what you mean.” His hand started to wander, to encircle her breast, but she stopped it with her own.
“Let’s take it slow, Jeff. Maybe you’re right, that people can fall for each other very fast. But frankly, when a man says he has feelings for me, I have trouble believing him. Words are cheap. It’s actions that count.” Her eyes grew dark, serious. “I’ve had to learn that bitter lesson the hard way.”
There was more, Jeff thought, not just the Eric incident. But she appeared all talked out for tonight. There’d be time enough later. He’d find out because it was important for him to know just what he was up against.
He let out an exaggerated sigh. “All right, I’ll try to keep the brakes on.” He bent his head and kissed her, but kept it light.
Walking her back to the campfire, he wondered just how much time she’d need.
Patience had never been his strong suit, Jeff readily acknowledged, though East had tried to teach him to go slowly, to consider all angles, to not plunge in without thinking things through. Still, he didn’t want to wait. He knew Tish was the woman for him and he had great difficulty giving her time.
Work was one answer, and work they did the next day and the day after that. Pete paired them off into twos and they’d ridden out, looking for strays. With no small amount of maneuvering, Jeff had managed to align himself with Tish, but they’d had little personal time. The graze land was vast, the cows restless and the calves born over the long winter distrustful and given to loud bawling if anyone came near.
Jeff again had to admire Tish’s ability on horseback, the way she’d scamper up a rocky cliffside, following the cry of a calf, then signal him. He’d ride up, lasso the little wanderer and between the two of them, they’d manage to free the animal and drive it back to join the herd. It was tedious work and the weather was muggy, low clouds trapping the moisture in the valley. By the end of the day, all of them were hot, tired, hungry and grumpy.
On the second afternoon, the sky began to darken and heavy rain clouds moved in. Jeff and Tish were several miles out, chasing a stubborn cow that had managed to evade the rope. It took the two of them nearly a full hour to finally herd her back toward the others, and by that time, the rain had started. As they hurried toward camp, it began to pour, making the hilly path a bit more treacherous.
At one point, Belladonna almost lost her footing, but quickly regained it as Tish talked calmly to the mare, soothing her. Just ahead, Jeff slowed his mount and swung around in his saddle to make sure horse and rider were okay. He pulled his hat lower on his head as Tish came out into the clearing and drew up alongside him where he waited astride Domino.
“That was a little too close,” he shouted above the sound of the rain pounding down.
“We’re okay,” she answered, steadying the reins.
“Follow me then,” he said, taking the lead. In the ten minutes it took to reach camp, they were both thoroughly soaked. Jeff noticed that they were the last two to come in and that the others were already raising the tents.
Swinging off Domino, he led him to the makeshift cover the men had rigged up for the horses, tethering him on the far side since he was the only male. He saw that Tish was seeing to Belladonna as well, both of them aware that, especially out on the range, you had to take care of your horse so that when you needed him, your mount would take care of you.
By the time Domino was fed, watered and put up for the night, Jeff decided he was wet clear through to his underwear. Hurrying over to where the others were anchoring the poles of the small tents, he helped them finish up.
“Not enough tents,” Derek told him. “We’re caught short because rain wasn’t predicted. We’ll have to double up. Take that one down there.”
“Right.” Jeff noticed that everyone was hurrying to get out of the rain, so he carried his saddlebag containing his dry clothes to the far tent. He opened the flap and saw that Tish was already inside sitting on her bedroll. A small battery-powered lantern was beside her. He paused, uncertain.
“Uh, they tell me we’re short of tents. The others have already staked a claim and this is the last one available.”
Her expression didn’t change. “Fine. Come in and close the flap.” Not looking at him, she dug a towel out of her bag and began drying her hair.
Jeff did as he was told, closed the flap and, on his hands and knees, spread his bedroll alongside hers. He sat down and slipped off his boots, then pulled his towel from his saddlebag and began drying off. But it was near impossible with his clothes drenched.
“Look, I hope I don’t offend you, but I’ve got to get out of these wet things.”
“Me, too. Turn your back and I’ll do the same.”
Feeling a shade silly, Jeff turned, pulled dry underwear and a shirt from his satchel, then went up on his knees to struggle out of his wet clothes. As tall as he was, it wasn’t easy, his head grazing the top of the tent with each movement. He was worried the stakes might loosen in the wet ground. Toweling off as he set aside each sopping article, he heard a muttered oath from Tish as she struggled to peal wet denim down her damp legs.
“Need some help?” he asked once he had on dry briefs and a flannel shirt.
Tish peeked over her shoulder and saw he was much further along and decently covered. �
�I could use a little, yes.”
Jeff swiveled on his bottom and placed all the wet clothes in a pile in the far corner of the tent before turning to her. She had on a dry T-shirt under an open flannel shirt but her wet jeans were bunched around her calves. First he pulled off her damp socks, then took hold of the bottom seam of the pantleg and inched one down, then the other. Finally he yanked them off and tossed them into the wet pile.
“Thanks.” He noticed her gaze got lost for a moment studying the way his damp blond hair curled at his ears, a lock falling onto his forehead. She swallowed hard. “Listen, could you turn around for another minute or two?”
“Sure.” Jeff swung about, wondering if she knew how clearly her chilled breasts under that skimpy cotton shirt could be seen. Next he wondered how he was going to get to sleep even after lights out with the mental picture of her straining nipples in the forefront of his mind. He listened to the rustle of clothing until she finally told him she was all set.
Slowly, he turned and saw she was pulling on a pair of socks. He decided that was a fine idea and dug out his last clean pair. “I think I’ll have to go back tomorrow. This is the last of my clean clothes.”
“Mmm, me, too. I think we’re all in the same boat. Don’t you think we’ve rounded up all the strays by now?” Shivering, Tish glanced down at her front and began to button her shirt. Then she wiggled about and unzipped her bedroll.
“Yeah, probably.” Jeff was doing the same thing and as he maneuvered to free the end of his bedroll, he bumped hips with her.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“It’s okay,” she muttered.
Trying to keep his mind where it belonged, Jeff managed to stretch out in his bedroll, pull up his extra blanket and flip the covers over himself. Seeing that Tish was settled in, he reached toward the lamp.
“Don’t turn it out just yet, okay?” she asked.
“Oh. Sure.”
His sleeping bag had a built-in pillow that could hardly be called one, so he raised one arm and cradled his head on it. Looking over at her, he saw that Tish was staring up at the very low ceiling. “Hope you’re not claustrophobic.”