Deanna Tompkins

by Blue Mountain Passion

  "Ha." Stephen was about to catch up until the leg of his underwear tangled around his foot. He plopped on his bare bottom and slipped out of the garment. "I was meant to be first born until you went and pushed me out of the way." It was an age old argument which neither one got tired of.

  Cole approached the bank of the creek. He stopped for the briefest of seconds before jumping, cursing up a storm as he hit the icy water.

  "Whoopee," Stephen yelled as he landed beside Cole. He surfaced with a big grin. "Nothing better than ice cold water to wake a man up."

  Cole wiggled his toes to assure himself they hadn't frozen. He scrubbed the grime from his body with haste, then exited the stream and found a large, smooth topped rock to lie on and dry off. Stephen reclined against a similar rock several feet away.

  Cole allowed the early morning sun to warm him. He stared at the clear blue sky, feeling more at home on this piece of Colorado land than anywhere else on earth.

  The Blue Mountain range ran as far as the eye could see. Quaker Aspen covered the peaks of the mountain, while the lower valleys were graced with fields of wildflowers, roses and pine trees. Deer, elk, antelope and mountain sheep were a common sight. The deer were so tame they'd eat right from your hand. Wolves, coyote and bear also inhabited the mountain, but were seldom known to cause anyone trouble.

  Cole had camped out on this very spot many times as a boy. He and Stephen had spent hours with their pa, fishing and hunting. They'd swum in the creek and hidden among the trees and large rocks that were scattered at the base of the mountain. It had been a simple, happy life.

  But life had changed. Bethany, their sister, had married and moved away. Pa concentrated more time and energy into the ranch. Stephen spent most of his time wooing women, challenged by the chase but soon bored with the prize.

  Cole allowed his lids to shut. He'd been like Stephen once, before Sam. He’d spent most his time gambling, drinking and participating in drunken brawls. He’d paraded a woman around on one arm while another waited in his bed. It was everything he thought he'd wanted. Until Sam.

  Cole sat up and balanced his elbows on bent knees. He placed his head in his hands. He'd buried the past, and the man he'd been, long ago. He was content without the burden of a woman at his side and children at his feet. He loved the land, the cattle, the sweat and hard work. Sure, he enjoyed the company of a woman on occasion, but ranching was his life.

  He rubbed his temple as tension mounted within him. He and Stephen had spent the last week questioning every rancher within a hundred mile radius, but to no avail. No one had seen anything suspicious, and no other ranch had been victimized. Whoever the rustlers were, they were good, and, it seemed, they were only interested in McAllister cattle.

  A thousand head of cattle had been stolen over the past three months. The McAllister ranch was divided into six sections. Each section was run by a separate foreman and was supplied its own corrals, bunkhouse, cookhouse and pastures. Cattle were shifted between sections on a routine basis, which made it difficult to track the missing cattle, and even more difficult to track the thieves. The financial strain on the ranch was significant, and still they were no closer to catching the thieves than they'd been months earlier.

  Cole's thoughts were interrupted by a faint scent on the breeze. He searched the horizon and focused on a cloud of black smoke that filled the air several miles away. "Stephen, look over there."

  Stephen's eyes followed his finger. "It looks like Tom Daniels' place."

  Cole stood. "Let's check it out." He dressed and stuffed his blanket and dirty clothes in his saddle bag. He turned toward Stephen. "Ready?"

  Stephen nodded. "Let's go."

  Cole mounted his blood bay Arabian and spurred him to a full gallop. Tom was the foreman in charge of the southeast section of the McAllister ranch, a section devoted to cross-breeding. It took less than ten minutes to reach his place.

  Cole spotted a woman near the cabin. Flames licked at her skirt as she darted one way, then another in an effort to get inside. He spurred his horse forward.

  "Get back. Get away from the fire!" Cole yelled over the roar of the flames. She continued to try to make her way into the burning building. Cole jumped to the ground before his horse even stopped and ran toward the woman. The heat was unbearable. He lifted one arm to protect his face and tried to grab her with the other. She dodged him and moved away. Smoke burned Cole's eyes and filled his lungs. He struggled to move in closer. She darted forward. Cole lunged and caught a handful of her dress. He pulled hard. She landed with a thud against his chest and he held fast.

  "Let me go!" She jumped on him and wrapped her legs around his waist. She attacked him with her tiny fists. "I've got to get Bessie out. Let me go."

  Cole dodged one fist. The other hit him square in the cheek. He drug her away from the cabin. "You can't go in there. It's too dangerous." He shook her gently, then harder as she continued to struggle. She was stronger than she looked.

  Cole noticed a movement inside the cabin. Someone was still alive in there! At that moment Stephen darted across the clearing and disappeared into the flames.

  "Stephen! Get out of there!" Cole yelled. He felt a sharp pain in his arm. His captive fled toward the cabin. He was left with a perfect set of teeth marks on his arm.

  With a loud curse, Cole followed the woman into the cabin. He couldn't see a thing through the dense black smoke. Flames leapt at him from all directions. Smoke filled his lungs. It was difficult to breathe. Fear crept up his spine as he realized he might not make it out alive. He spotted the woman a few feet away.

  Everything happened at once. A burning log fell and trapped her beneath it. Flames caught her skirt and climbed higher. Her terrified scream sent Cole into action. He kicked the log away, swept her into his arms and ran out the door.

  Once outside, Cole threw himself to the ground. He held her against him and rolled across the lumpy ground. Dirt clods bruised his back and broken twigs poked him. Cole could only imagine the woman's discomfort each time she was pan caked between his two hundred ten pound frame and the hard earth.

  Cole sat up and pulled her with him. The fire was out. "You little fool. What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed." Cole realized he was shaking her, and stopped.

  He tucked several strands of honey blonde hair, tangled with leaves and grass, behind her ear. Emerald eyes and smooth, pale skin peeked from black smudges on her soot covered face. She had a small cut on her forehead, a large lump beneath it. Her cheek was scratched and a tiny drop of fresh blood rested on her lower lip. She had some small burns on her arms and the palms of her hands. He lifted the charred remains of her skirt. She had several nasty burns on her ankles, just above her boots, but the fire didn't appear to have reached any higher, for her petticoats were intact.

  "Bessie. I must get Bessie," she whimpered before going slack in his arms.

  Cole placed her on the ground. He remembered Stephen and sprung to his feet. He'd only advanced a few feet when Stephen staggered from the cabin with a pitiful black and white mutt under one arm. Stephen placed the dog on the ground and dropped down beside it.

  Cole approached him. "You okay?" Stephen was covered with soot from the tip of his once white Stetson to the toes of his mule eared boots.

  Stephen removed his hat and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm gonna make it." He coughed. "How about you?"

  Cole shrugged. "A few burns." He glanced at the small red blisters on the palm of his right hand. "I'll live." He knelt to pet the dog. "Anyone else inside?"

  Stephen cleared his throat. "Couldn't tell." His voice was hoarse. "I don't think so, but there was a lot of smoke."

  Cole nodded. His eyes still burned.

  Stephen tilted his head toward the woman. "How's Meagan?"

  Cole felt his heartbeat quicken. "Meagan?"

  Stephen's eyes widened. "Didn't you know?"

  Cole didn't answer. He straightened and approached Meagan. He knelt b
eside her. "I hadn't realized." He spoke more to himself than to Stephen. It had been four years. He still pictured Meagan as a gangly, pigtailed thirteen year old who talked too much. He smiled at his own stupidity.

  Meagan had grown up. She was a fragile, beautiful woman with delicate cheekbones, long dark lashes, full lips, and a small nose that tilted up at the end. He smiled. At least her nose was the same.

  "How is she?"

  Stephen's voice forced Cole's attention away from Meagan. He stood. "Most her burns are minor." Cole removed his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. "She's lucky she isn't dead." His voice shook as he realized how close Meagan had come to being burned alive. "A log fell on her. She could have internal injuries." Frustration edged his voice. "Where the hell is everyone?"

  "It's Sunday. Pete and Jerry would be the only two in the bunkhouse, since Tom wouldn't have hired for spring yet. They're probably in town." Stephen shrugged. "Tom's most likely with them."

  Stephen's words fueled Cole's frustration as he recalled Tom's tendency to drink too much then gamble an entire months pay away on a single weekend in town.

  Cole made a decision. "We'll bring Meagan home with us."

  Stephen shook his head. "It's too far. We don't know how bad she's hurt."

  Cole frowned. "I know. She needs a doctor. Even if one of us rode for help, it would be dark by the time we arrived. It would be late tomorrow before we could get back here. She could be dead by then."

  Stephen's brow creased with worry. "You think she's that bad off?"

  Cole bent over Meagan and grasped her limp hand in his. She didn't respond to his touch. "How would I know?" He looked up. "Can we take that chance?"

  Stephen hesitated, his eyes on Meagan. He shook his head. "No."

  Cole nodded. "I'll carry her."

  Stephen moved in closer. "I think she'd rather ride with me."

  "I know." Cole stood. "She rides with me." He'd risked his life to save Meagan. She was his responsibility. Cole let out a loud whistle. His Arabian trotted to him, but reared back as he approached the smoldering flames and heat. Cole placed his uninjured palm on the Arabian's muzzle to calm him.

  He mounted and turned sideways in his saddle. "Hand her to me." He watched as Stephen gathered Meagan’s limp body into his arms and bent low as Stephen approached, lifting her onto his lap. Her head rested against his shoulder. Cole took a quick assessment of the suns location. The day was half over. There was no way they'd make it home before dark, but he knew every hill and valley of this land. He could travel by moonlight.

  A pitiful yelp caught Cole's attention. He watched as Stephen retrieved the solid black dog with white paws. "I assume that's Bessie?"

  Stephen nodded. He tucked Bessie under one arm and mounted his horse, then balanced Bessie on one knee. "Let's go."

  A tingle of warning shot up Cole's spine. He had an eerie feeling that someone was watching them. He glanced behind him, but saw only the charred remains of Meagan's home. He scanned the area.

  Stephen rode up beside him. "What's up?"

  Cole tightened his grip on Meagan. "Nothing. Let's get home."

  Anthony Montano stood straight and stiff, his back against a large white oak. The acrid smell of smoke invaded his nostrils. He grinned. His plan was underway. Soon, Meagan would be planted in the McAllister's home. It was just where he wanted her.

  He frowned. Meagan could have ruined everything by going after that dog. Anthony chanced a peek around the tree. Cole was just a speck on the horizon. Soon, he thought, it would all be over. With Meagan's help, he'd have his revenge. He stepped from behind the tree and watched as Cole disappeared from sight.

  Hours passed. Cole's muscles cramped in protest. The small burns on his hand began to sting. He longed to stretch, but didn't dare disturb Meagan.

  No sooner did this thought cross his mind before an agonized moan escaped from between Meagan's lips. She tossed her head from side to side and attempted to sit up.

  "Shah," Cole soothed. He tightened his grip just enough to keep her still. "Relax. You're fine."

  She snuggled closer and buried her face in his chest.

  "We'll have you home soon," Cole promised. Her breath tickled the tiny hairs that were exposed by the open neck of his shirt.

  Stephen rode up beside him. "Do you want me to take her? You must be tired."

  Cole shook his head. "I'm fine." He felt a strange mix of concern and desire. Meagan was soft and warm against him. Cole rubbed his palm up Meagan's arm and brought it to rest against her neck. So much time had passed. Plenty of time for him to apologize to Meagan. Plenty of time to earn her forgiveness. He'd acted a coward, unable to expose his dark past to her. He'd left her alone to deal with his cruelty. He dropped his hand. He felt guilty as hell.

  Cole's stomach began to cramp in hunger. He didn't stop. His concern for Meagan overpowered his need for food. Darkness was upon them, and Cole searched through the shadows of the night for signs of home. They had to be close. At first it was dim, but soon the light of an oil lamp shone its welcome. Cole grinned back at Stephen. "Ride ahead. Have Ma get a room ready." He allowed his tense muscles to relax. They'd made it.

  By the time Cole arrived, the house was a flurry of activity. Stephen met him, and Cole released Meagan into his brother's arms. He slid from his stallion, suppressing a moan of pain through clenched teeth as the circulation returned to his numb legs.

  When his legs would cooperate, he entered the house, and the room where Meagan lay motionless on the bed. No sooner had he arrived than his ma shooed him out.

  "Stephen is fetching the doctor. I need to get Meagan cleaned up before he gets here. Poor child's been through quite an ordeal."

  Cole ignored his mother and brushed past her.

  "Cole!"

  He turned to face her. "I'm staying, Ma."

  Cole stood a foot taller than his ma and was twice as wide. She didn't appear the least bit intimidated as she ran impatient fingers through short, chestnut hair. Her deep brown eyes flashed him a warning. "Just stay out of my way." She pivoted on her heels, her tiny frame deceptive. She was a strong woman.

  Cole backed against the far wall of the room. Exhausted, he found his way to a rocker and sank into it. He tipped his head until it rested against the padded back of the chair and shut his eyes. He allowed his mind to wander. Back to the first day he'd ever linked Meagan and Sam in his mind. An association he hadn't been able to rid himself of since.

  It was Meagan's fourteenth birthday, and she was having a party. She presented herself to him in a full length lemon yellow dress that clung to her budding curves before flowing into a full, wide skirt. It was a dress eerily similar to the one Sam had worn the night of her death.

  Meagan had flirted with him, tossing her hair over one shoulder, arching her back, her emerald eyes sending an invitation she was too young to understand the meaning of. Meagan was an innocent experimenting with the game of seduction. Sam had been a temptress masquerading as an innocent.

  One a child, one a woman. They were different, yet the same. There was a similarity that haunted him, something he couldn't place his finger on. Maybe it was the shape of Meagan's face or the stubborn set of her chin. It might have been her seductive pose or husky voice.

  Long buried memories resurfaced, as did his pain and anger. For a single moment he'd lost his sanity. He'd lashed out at Meagan as if she were Sam.

  Cole shifted in his chair. His Ma was talking to the doctor. When had the doctor arrived? Cole tried to get up, but his weary body refused to budge. He slumped lower in the chair, picturing Meagan as she'd been the last time he'd seen her.

  He'd left her alone with tears streaming down her face. He'd never returned, too afraid to face her. Too afraid that seeing her would cause him to remember all he'd struggled to forget. To this day Cole couldn't recall the exact words he'd spoken to Meagan. She'd opened the door to his past and they'd both paid the price. His nightmares returned that night. Only, the images had chan
ged...

  Meagan stood before him, arms stretched out, calling to him. Her voice became distant, her image blurred. She'd fade in, and then out, over and over. Each time she took on a different feature. Her golden hair turned red, her green eyes became blue, and her childish figure took on womanly curves. Meagan became Sam one feature at a time.

  Cole wanted to run, but his feet wouldn't budge. Sam moved toward him, the sway of her hips seductive, her tongue darting out to moisten full, pink lips as she teased and taunted him until he was consumed with need. He'd reach for her, coming within inches of touching her soft, warm skin. Then she'd fall backwards, tumbling down a never ending staircase. She'd scream, loud and shrill and as she fell, head over feet, her hair would change from red to blonde, and back to red.

  He’d woken each night for months, soaked with sweat, the images vivid and frightening. Meagan and Sam had become one in his dreams. They'd become one in his mind. It was months before the nightmares stopped. Cole spent the next four years avoiding Meagan.

  "I think she's coming around."

  His Ma's voice startled Cole back to the present. He stood and walked to the bed. Meagan's hand fluttered by her side. She turned her head and opened her eyes, her focus on him.

  Relief forced a grin from Cole. He took her hand in his. "Hi, Meagan."

  Meagan blinked several times to clear her vision. It had been a dream, hadn't it? She couldn't be here, beside Cole. He wouldn't hold her hand. She tried to speak, but only a small squeak escaped. A glass of water was placed against her parched lips, and Meagan gulped greedily. She choked as the liquid touched her throat. When Cole attempted to give her more, she turned her head away.

  Cole set the glass down. "You need to rest. You'll feel better in the morning." He caressed her cheek with his finger.

  It really was Cole. A voice nagged at her, telling her to flee. Yet as she felt Cole's warm skin against hers, she couldn't recall why she would want to go. A sense of contentment enveloped her. Her eyelids became heavy. In moments she was sound asleep.