“Tomorrow when the sun comes up, we can get a fix on our position,” Rex said casually. “It’s hard with all this cloud. I can’t see any stars tonight, either.”
“You’re right,” she said in relief. “As soon as the sun comes up, we can make sure we’ve started working our way north instead of heading further west into the mountains.”
“It sure wouldn’t be much fun to get caught off a trail in the mountains with all these kids. Would it, Linnie?”
“It would be awful,” Lindsay agreed. “But Sam has always said not to worry about it, because our horses know how to take us home. Oh, God,” she added, “that feels so wonderful.”
“Wait until later,” he whispered, “after all the boys are asleep.”
“What happens then?” she asked, grateful for the sheltering darkness that hid her flushed cheeks.
“Leave your tent flap open around midnight and you’ll get the deluxe treatment,” he murmured. “The full-body massage.”
Lindsay was suddenly breathless with sexual yearning and hot with desire.
“Come on, sit up,” she told him. “I’ll do your shoulders.”
He sat up and moved ahead of her on the blanket so she could rub his back. Lindsay flexed and worked her fingers in the flat bands of muscle across his shoulders, stunned by the wildness of her emotions.
This was Rex, her old childhood friend, but he seemed new and exciting, like a man she’d just met.
A man she was going to sleep with tonight, Lindsay realized, and give her body to. Already she could almost feel the warm silky nakedness of his skin against her own, and the hard thrusting strength as he entered her...
“I can feel it in your hands,” he whispered.
“What?” she asked
“How much you want me.”
“Oh, Rex...”
One by one the boys grew weary of gore and horror. They rolled onto their bedrolls, leaving the fire to die down. Rex and Lindsay waited, hardly speaking, lost in a world of dreamy anticipation as the logs burned and smoldered and the fire died to a ruddy glow.
By now the shadows were deep enough that he moved back and took her into his arms. Their kiss held all the yearning passion both of them were feeling, and went on and on until they were startled by a sudden noise.
They were wrapped together so passionately that it took a while for them to separate, to control their ragged breathing and tuck their clothes back in place.
Eventually Lindsay realized the sound came from Danny’s bedroll. She went over to find him sitting upright, crying and trembling in the aftermath of a nightmare.
“I couldn’t leave him out here,” she told Rex, making her way back across the campsite with the little boy sobbing in her arms. “I have to take him into my tent with me.”
Rex stood up painfully, his jeans still bulging at the groin.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered. “Lindsay, couldn’t we just...”
“Tomorrow,” she promised shamelessly, holding Danny close to her. “By tomorrow he should be able to sleep out with the other boys and not be afraid.”
Rex had to be satisfied with that, but his tall figure looked tense and miserable as he strode off into the woods to check on the horses.
Lindsay watched him go. Then she carried the little boy inside her tent, went to get his bedroll and air mattress and sat next to him, smoothing his rusty curls until he settled and feel deeply asleep again.
Part of her ached with sexual frustration, but another, deeper part was grateful for the interruption. If Danny hadn’t wakened and cried, she would certainly have gone to bed with Rex tonight.
And as much as she wanted him physically, Lindsay wasn’t at all sure her emotions were ready for that experience.
Not yet. And maybe not ever...
She tucked Danny’s teddy bear close to his cheek, then peeled off her jeans and sweater and settled in her own bedroll, where she lay for a long time staring at the ghostly moving shapes against the taut canvas.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LIFE WAS ALWAYS peaceful around Lost Springs Ranch in the summertime, but Sam could never remember a silence as profound as this. Lindsay and the boys had only been gone a little more than a day, but it seemed like months.
The rest of the staff were all off on vacation while he stayed alone in his little cottage, listening to the grass grow. Sam had been looking forward to a whole week of rest and solitude, but now the quiet seemed to weigh on him, making him feel lonely and old.
The second day of the trail ride he sat on his porch, whittling at a block of wood as he watched the sun setting behind a bank of clouds that wreathed the distant mountain ranges.
No doubt they were having a cloudy ride up there. But that always made a trail ride more pleasant, in Sam’s opinion. The clouds and mist enclosed you, and they muffled other sounds, making you feel like the only person in the world.
As long as it didn’t start raining, he thought. A little rain could be fun on a trail ride but when it went on too long, life started to get pretty miserable.
He squinted at the clouds with a practised eye, then went back to work with his jackknife, frowning as he shaped a miniature grizzly bear with one paw raised.
In addition to his worry over the eight horseback riders up there in the mountains, he still couldn’t shake his depression over the abrupt way Gwen McCabe had rejected him.
Sam knew his behavior was childish, but it didn’t help to scold himself. The pain was so intense, especially after the amount of courage it had taken him to get up enough nerve to ask her out in the first place.
Worst of all, he still couldn’t understand her refusal. He was pretty sure she hadn’t found him repulsive, because she’d smiled and chatted in such a warm, friendly manner. And a deep instinct told him Gwen McCabe was as lonely as he was.
But it appeared the woman wasn’t lonely enough to spend an evening in his company....
The phone shrilled inside the cottage. For a moment Sam considered letting it ring; he had no desire to talk to anybody. But it might be ranch business, and he was the only person around. Finally he hauled himself from the rocking chair and wandered inside to pick up the receiver.
“Lost Springs Ranch,” he said.
There was a long silence. “Sam?” a voice said tentatively. “Is that you?”
He gripped the phone, his heart pounding. “Yes, this is Sam Duncan.”
“It’s...this is Gwen McCabe calling. I didn’t know if I’d be able to catch you at home, but I...” Her voice trailed off.
Sam felt almost light-headed with relief and excitement. She’d changed her mind!
Maybe Gwen was just really shy after all, and when she had time to think it over, she’d decided there were worse things than having dinner with Sam Duncan.
And she was such a pretty woman, so pleasant and delightful to be with.
His mind whirled with plans. Sam hadn’t been to a nice restaurant in quite a long time, and Lindsay wasn’t around to confer with. He’d have to look through the phone book and see if there were...
But her next words chilled him like a dash of cold water.
“I hope I’m not being a bother,” she said with odd formality. “I won’t keep you long. There’s something that’s been worrying me and I just wanted to mention it, if you don’t mind.”
“Worrying you?” Sam asked cautiously.
His mind still clung to warm images of himself and Gwen McCabe, dressed up and dining out, chatting and smiling at each other over a good steak, maybe even taking a whirl around the dance floor.
But it appeared he’d jumped to conclusions. The disappointment was hard to endure.
“Yes,” she said. “The other day two of your boys came here to pick up the first-aid kits for their trail ride in the moun
tains. One of them was a little red-haired boy about Brian’s age, and the other was a tall young fellow with dark hair.”
“That would be Danny and Clint,” he told her, wondering what this was all about. “Did they cause you some kind of problem, Mrs. McCabe?”
She hesitated a moment at this formal mode of address, but didn’t protest. “No,” she said. “They were both very polite. But I just...” Again her voice trailed off nervously.
“What?” Sam asked.
“That bigger boy...Clint,” she said at last.
“What about him?”
“He seemed so angry. There were real undercurrents of tension in him, and a sort of...attitude.”
“The boy’s had a tough life,” Sam said.
“I just wondered if he might...do something.”
“Like what?” Sam asked, increasingly puzzled.
“I don’t know.” She sounded distraught and embarrassed. “I just wondered if the others were safe out there in the mountains with him.”
“You think Clint might hurt somebody?” Sam said in astonishment.
“I don’t know. Look, this is probably just silly. I’m so sorry to have bothered you, Sam.”
“But I...”
“Good night,” she said hastily, as if anxious to wind up the conversation. Before he could say anything more, the phone clicked in his ear. Sam stood for a while looking at the receiver, then replaced it and wandered back out onto the porch.
Hearing her voice had upset him all over again—especially when it was clear she had no desire to talk to him. She was just worried about young Clint, for some reason.
Moving heavily, Sam settled himself back in the rocker and stared thoughtfully at the ring of clouds above the mountains.
* * *
RAIN BEGAN TO FALL during their third afternoon on the trail, a cold silver drizzle that seemed to hang in the air like mist.
“Liquid sunshine,” Rex told the boys at noon. “Let’s all get into our sweaters and slickers and try to stay warm.”
Lindsay was grateful for his good cheer, though the group’s spirits didn’t seem to be dampened by the bad weather. They all put protective covers on their hats and shrugged into long plastic raincoats slit to the waist to fit comfortably over their saddles. Then they mounted up and headed out on the trail again.
She could hear their cheerful voices behind her, calling and shouting to one another as she led the way deeper into the mountains.
By now the boys were completely absorbed in this adventure, bonded with each other and lost in their imaginations. All of them except Clint had smeared their faces with mud, then woven twigs and leaves into their hatbands to create a camouflage effect. They were explorers, brave outdoorsmen, the first people ever to venture into a forbidden land.
Lindsay grinned privately as she glanced back at them. But her smile faded again when she looked around at the trail.
It was years since she’d ridden in these mountains, and she was a little surprised how hard it seemed to get her bearings, especially when they hadn’t seen the sun since the first day. The path they followed was still fairly well marked, but it no longer seemed familiar.
Still, her sorrel horse had chosen each fork without hesitation, and she knew they had to be making a wide circle on the lower slopes of the range. For the past two days they would have headed almost due north. Tomorrow they would reach the farthest outpost of the trail, where they would spend two days fishing in Lost Lake and exploring an old abandoned miners’ camp before picking their way back toward the Bighorn Ranch.
But the trail was getting so rough. In some portions it seemed as if they were in the mountains rather than the foothills, with steep gorges falling away at their feet, and fewer trees among the rocks.
Lindsay would have liked to talk with Rex but he was at the rear of the group, a quarter of a mile behind her, still supervising the packhorses and keeping an eye on the noisy group of boys.
The rain continued as they set up camp for the night in a dense stand of pine that gave some shelter. Under Rex’s supervision, the boys hurried to build rough structures from pine boughs and dragged their bedrolls inside, shouting with excitement.
As Lindsay and her helpers prepared the meal, she found herself fascinated by this changed man.
One of the boys had smeared Rex’s face as well. He looked like a painted warrior with his blunt cheekbones and flashing eyes. By now there was nothing left of the city lawyer with his briefcase. He was a big, grown-up version of the boy she’d played with and loved so many years ago.
He caught her glance across the campfire, his eyes very blue and full of intensity above the smeared markings on his cheeks. Lindsay stared back at him, drowning in emotion, and knew that tonight he was going to come into her bed.
Danny had spent the second night, as well, in the tent with her. Poor Rex, clearly frustrated, had been forced to remain in his bedroll.
But their smallest camper had adjusted to the adventure and by now was as wild and carefree as the other boys, excited at the prospect of sleeping with Clint in one of the makeshift pine shelters.
Lindsay would be alone in her tent while the rain pattered in the trees overhead....
“I’m getting worried about the trail,” she said aloud as they sat around the fire with their meal of stew and dried fruit.
“Why?” Rex asked, sipping his tea.
“It just doesn’t look right,” Lindsay said. “My horse is still choosing the way, and I know it’s been years since I’ve ridden these trails, but I’m worried. It feels like we’re getting too high.”
Rex frowned while the boys ate in silence. “But to be getting higher,” he said, “we’d have to be heading straight west. I thought we were bearing north, going laterally along the middle slopes. Sam told me that’s how the trail runs.”
She nodded, giving Lonnie another helping of stew. “I know. That’s what I thought, too, and it’s probably right. I just can’t shake this uneasy feeling.”
“But we are heading west,” Jason Bernstein said. “We’ve been going straight west ever since we left the ranch.”
The others stared at him. Jason looked nervously at his plate.
“At least I think we have,” he said. “According to my compass...”
Allan Larkin hooted with laughter. “You don’t know how to read a compass, Bernstein,” he said. “You couldn’t find your way out a paper bag. Where’d you get that thing, a popcorn box?”
Lindsay relaxed and drank some tea.
“We’ve never bothered to use a compass up here in all the years we’ve been taking boys on campouts,” she said. “Our horses know these trails so well, they could circle them blindfolded.”
But Rex stood up and moved around to where Jason sat. “Let me look at your compass,” he said.
Jason handed it over with a bitter scowl at Allan, and Rex flipped open the lid. He held the compass up, moved a few paces into the trees and came back, squatting next to Lindsay.
“According to this thing, Jason’s right,” he said. “We’ve been heading due west for three days.”
“But that’s impossible.” She stared at him, her anxiety returning. “Rex, none of our horses would head straight up into the mountains like that. Sam told me to...”
She was interrupted by a harsh peal of laughter from the other side of the fire. All the campers turned to look in astonishment at Clint, normally so silent, rocking with merriment.
“You should see your faces,” he choked. “God, this is rich.”
Rex moved around the fire and stood above the tall boy. “What’s so funny, Clint?” he asked quietly.
Clint leaned forward, howling with laughter, then sat back and wiped his eyes. “It worked like a charm,” he said, still gasping. “I couldn’t believe nobody ca
ught on, after three whole days.”
Without even being sure of what he meant, Lindsay began to sense a cold, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Clint’s fit of laughter passed. He glared up at Rex, the firelight glinting on his dark features.
“Some leader you are,” the boy sneered. “Big lawyer with mud on your face, trying to look after a woman and a bunch of little kids. Somebody should be looking after you.”
Lindsay and the younger boys watched, wide-eyed, as Rex reached down and drew Clint roughly to his feet. Rex didn’t seem to exert any particular force, and he said nothing at all. But his big, lean body was taut with controlled fury.
Clint stood uneasily in front of the man, no longer able to meet his eyes.
“What’s going on?” Rex asked softly, gripping the boy’s shoulder so tightly that Lindsay could see Clint wince. “Because if you’ve done something to hurt these people...”
Rex’s voice dropped even lower.
“If you have, Clint, I hate to think what I’m going to do to you.”
All Clint’s swagger and bravado vanished along with his laughter. He now looked much younger, like a frightened boy.
“Hell, it was just a joke,” he muttered.
“What kind of joke?”
“Those lead horses that Lindsay and Danny are riding, and yours and mine, too—they’re not Lost Springs horses.”
Clint glanced defiantly at Rex, then looked down again while the significance of his statement slowly dawned on Lindsay.
“Where are they from?” she asked with another cold clutch of fear.
Clint turned sullenly in her direction. “Sam bought them a couple of months ago at a horse sale over in Wolf River. All four of them were working on a dude ranch there.”
“But Wolf River...that’s right over on the other side of the mountains,” she said, increasingly horrified as understanding dawned. “Rex, these horses have been going home! They’ve been taking us straight west every day, all the way into the mountains.”
Best Man in Wyoming Page 15
