by Jane Toombs
But later, once she was dressing after finishing her own shower, she fingered her clothes with distaste. True, she'd packed this navy blue pants suit so she'd be comfortable on the plane, but it was so--so New York.
She longed for a brightly colored cotton skirt to wear with the white short-sleeved sweater she'd packed to go with the pants suit. And maybe a scarf with the same colors in it as the skirt.
Eyeing herself in the mirror as she blow-dried her hair, she frowned at the colorless combination of navy blue pants and white top. She looked--efficient. Even on the trail, though she'd been no style setter, she'd come off with more zip than this.
Emerging from the bedroom, she followed the sound of Davis's voice and found him with Bram, sitting on the floor beside a box where Sheba nestled among her nursing kittens. As Vala eased down next to them, Bram took her hand and guided it toward the mother cat, allowing Sheba to smell her fingers.
"Vala's a friend," he said.
Friend. Is that what she wanted their relationship to be? His efficient friend, she thought moodily.
"Mom, did you know Siamese kittens were all white at first?" Davis asked. "Bram says they don't get their masks like their mother's got till later. These'll probably be seal points 'cause Sheba is and so was the father cat." Gazing at the kittens, Vala saw they were, indeed, all white. "Have you chosen yours?" she asked her son.
He pointed at the one at the far end of the food line, a kitten smaller than the others. "He's mine and I'm gonna call him Zorro."
"But he's the runt." The words came out before Vala thought.
"I already know that. But Zorro needs me. The others don't."
"Zorro seems healthy enough," Bram put in. He reached in the box and gently disengaged the kitten from its mother. Zorro let out a squeak of protest, causing Sheba to comment, but she didn't object otherwise to Bram holding her kitten.
"See, he's got a crook in his tail," Davis said, gazing at Zorro as though he was a prize winner. "His eyes are a little bit crossed, too. Those things happen sometimes in Siamese cats, Bram says."
Bram deposited the kitten in Davis's hands and the boy carefully raised Zorro until its fur brushed his cheek. The kitten reached out and sank its tiny claws into Davis's T- shirt, trying to climb onto him.
Davis smiled happily. "He likes me already."
Later, after Vala had washed, dried and folded their clothes and packed most of them, she rejoined Bram and Davis in the kitchen. They'd gone for quesadillas and enchiladas while she was busy and were laying out the food for lunch. "We watched the TV weather channel before we left," Davis told her. "That old storm's gonna blanket New York."
"Up to a foot of snow," Bram put in. "With high winds. A regular blizzard. I called your airline and all fights to New York and New Jersey have been cancelled for today and tomorrow. They'll call here to reschedule you when they can."
Vala thought she probably ought to worry, but her heart lifted. Irrationally, she wondered if there was a nearby store where she could buy the kind of skirt she craved so she wouldn't look so--staid. Before she could stop herself, she asked, "Is there a mall around here?"
"You wanna go shopping?" Davis asked incredulously. "We're gonna go swimming after lunch."
"We could spare an hour in the mall while our lunch digests." Bram put in. "That do?"
Vala nodded.
After lunch, before they could leave, Bram's friend Nick, the guy who'd been taking care of Sheba, showed up in full western regalia.
"Hey, Hunter," he said, after being introduced, "I was beginning to wonder if the Superstitions had got you this time, but I see I was wrong." He winked at Vala, as if they shared a joke Bram wasn't in on.
"We ran into some unforeseen delays," Bram said.
"Don't blame you a bit." Again Nick winked at her. "Well, I was going to invite you to take in the rodeo with me tomorrow--got two tickets--but..."
"Hang on," Bram said, then turned to Davis. "You like rodeos?"
"I've only seen them on TV," Davis said, "but sure!"
"Nick used to be a rodeo rider before he got all stove up," Bram said.
"Whoa!" Davis gazed awestuck at Nick. "You mean you rode bucking broncs and all?"
"Got to admit I did," Nick said. "Too young to know any better till I got thrown and busted my femur. That's the big bone up here in the thigh, kid. You don't ever want to break that sucker. Still got a limp."
"Yeah, and don't think he doesn't use that limp to advantage when he has a court case," Bram added.
It was Vala turn to stare at Nick. This--cowboy was a lawyer?
"Why don't you stick around?" Bram said. "I got an extra suit, you can swim with us a little later. Meanwhile, you and Davis can get acquainted while I drive his mother to our local mall. That way you'll know each other better when you two take in the rodeo tomorrow. Not often you get a new audience for those tired old rodeo tales, amigo. Davis, here, is a pretty fair horseman, he'll enjoy them."
Davis glanced uncertainly at Vala.
"If you want to go to the rodeo it's all right with me," she said.
Davis looked up at Nick. "You sure you want to take me?"
"Hey, kid, I can already tell you'll be livelier company than old Hunter, here."
"Well, I'd sure like to go see a real, live rodeo."
"You're on!" Nick clapped him on the shoulder.
On the way to the mall, Vala said, "It was nice of you to ask Nick to take Davis to the rodeo. I hope your friend doesn't mind."
"Nick's divorced. He has a son a year or so younger than Davis and he doesn't get to see the kid very often, since his ex-wife lives in Virginia. He misses the boy-- he'll enjoy being with Davis."
In the mall, Bram announced he wanted to look for a pet store, saying, "Meet you at the truck in a half-hour?" "Better give me forty-five minutes."
He nodded and took off.
Vala zeroed in on a likely looking women's wear store and managed to find exactly what she was looking for.
Tempted by a top that matched one of the colors in the skirt, she bought that, too.
Since she had twenty minutes left, she wandered through the mall window shopping. From a shoe store a pair of sandals called to her and she couldn't resist them. Then she found a book on the Ndee that she though Davis might enjoy and was on her way back to the truck when she passed a lingerie shop. Her steps slowed and she stopped. All she had to sleep in was the sweats. Clean now, but still totally utilitarian. Her night clothes back home were much the same. Assuring herself that every woman needed at least one pretty nightgown, she stepped into the shop.
As she fingered the filmy confections on the racks, she told herself firmly she was not buying this for anyone but herself. Taken with a totally impractical blue waltz-length gown that the saleswoman insisted was the exact color of her eyes, she bought it and reached the truck only five minutes late.
By the time they returned to the house, Nick and Davis had become fast friends. Nick stayed around to swim with them before leaving, promising to pick Davis up in the morning.
Vala spent the rest of the afternoon in a languorous daze, appreciating not having to climb on Susie Q and ride. After the first couple of days she'd enjoyed the trip, but how good it was just to laze around for a change. She felt absurdly honored when Sheba strolled into the living room, talked to her for a bit and then jumped onto her lap to be petted until kitten squeaks sent the cat hurrying away.
She was dozing when Bram and Davis, who'd been tossing horse-shoes in the back yard, came in.
"This son of yours has a wicked pitch," Bram told her. Got almost as many ringers as me--and I'm an old pro."
Davis grinned so proudly that Vala had to hide the tears that sprang to her eyes. She'd always known there was nothing wrong with her son, but it was wonderful to see it proven. All because Bram was a man who cared how the boy felt.
Since Bram insisted they needed exotic food to make up for what they had to eat on the trail, supper turned out to be Chinese
take-out, eaten late, due to the afternoon popcorn. Cleaning up afterward took hardly any time. Davis soon settled in front of the den TV to watch a Star Trek video, leaving Vala and Bram alone in the living room.
"Some different from telling stories in the moonlight," he said, rising and ambling over to join her on the couch.
"I think people should do more of that," she said. "We all watch too much TV. Well, maybe you don't, since you're a guide."
"Somehow what's on the tube doesn't match looking up at the stars." He started to reach for her hand.
At that moment, Sheba padded into the room and leaped onto the couch between them. Bram shrugged and began to pet the cat instead.
If it hadn't been Sheba, it would have been Davis wandering in to ask a question, Vala told herself. She and Bram were definitely not alone in his house. And wouldn't be, even when Davis was sound asleep in his room.
"Single mothers have to keep up appearances," she muttered, half to herself.
"Why? You think Sheba cares what you do? Remember, she's a single mother, too. Of five, yet."
"Her kittens don't care what she does as long as she feeds them. Davis is not a kitten."
"Granted. So you think it'd bother him if we held hands, is that it?"
She eyed him sideways. "Holding hands is only the beginning, not the complete story."
Bram scooped Sheba onto his lap, then pulled Vala closer and put his arm over her shoulder. "Now we can both pet her," he said.
Vala ran her fingers over the cat's soft fur and Sheba's black mask turned toward her, accompanied by a series of trills.
"Sorry," she murmured, "I don't understand Siamese cat talk. But if you mean you like it, good. Because I enjoy petting you."
"I had a feeling you were a cat woman," Bram said.
"I like dogs, too, but cats better. Maybe because they purr."
Like I'd be doing, if I knew how, Vala thought, cuddling against him. It felt so right to be here like this with Bram.
"Mom," Davis called, "I wanna get in my pjs before I watch the rest of this. Where are they?"
"On the dresser in your room," she called back, wondering if she should pull away from Bram. She decided not to. After all, her son had already seen them kiss. There was nothing wrong with a little hugging.
"That kid's a true male," Bram said. "Can't figure out where the female in his life puts things."
After a comfortable silence, she said, "You never did tell me what plans of yours I interrupted with my plea for help."
"Nothing important."
"I happened to see a Caribbean vacation brochure on the coffee table so I wondered if maybe you'd been planning a trip."
"I took a trip, didn't I?" he asked.
"Not to the Caribbean, though. I've never been there. Have you?"
He nodded, then told her about his favorite island, St. Amaris. "It's not the tourist trap the others have become," he finished. "You'd like it."
She undoubtedly would, but her chances of getting there were slim to nonexistent. This trip would max her credit card. Which reminded her.
She sat up straight and said, "You haven't told me what your fee will be."
"Nothing. I have no intention of charging an old friend."
Old friend? They'd hardly even been acquaintances in school.
"Thank you, but I'd rather--"
He held up a hand. "It's my belated holiday gift to you and Davis. Please accept it gracefully, the way I'm sure your mother taught you."
Put that way, he made it difficult for her to argue. "That's very generous of you," she told him. "I know Davis will think so, too."
Sheba yawned, then stretched, leaped onto the floor and went to check her offspring.
"What a good mother," Vala said. "I imagine she'll miss the kittens when they get old enough to leave."
"Not for long, maybe a couple of days, the vet says. Cats are programmed to let their kittens fend for themselves once they're weaned and she's taught them to hunt."
"Not like humans. It can be hard for us to let go even when they turn eighteen."
Bram turned toward her and took both her hands in his. "Promise me you won't hang onto Davis like that."
Somewhat taken aback, she stared at him.
"And don't widen those big blue eyes at me," he added. "You know what I'm talking about."
"I'm just surprised you--care," she said.
"He's learning to trust himself to be competent. I can't ask you to keep him from his father, even though I think staying away from him might help the boy."
"If Neal doesn't ask to see Davis, I don't intend to push it," she said. "Davis never asks to visit him." Sighing, she added, "I try to do what's best for my son."
Bram grinned at her. "Yeah, I found that out when you insisted you knew how to ride."
She smiled. "I got appropriately punished for my lie, but all's well that ends well."
"I'd say your end wasn't very well for a few days there."
Davis appeared in the living room archway in his pajamas "Is it okay if I have some juice and the rest of the popcorn?" he asked, looking at Bram.
"Help yourself," Bram told him.
"Hey, you guys are holding hands," Davis said. "Cool."
Vala promptly removed her hands from Bram's, but by then Davis was gone.
"You're over-reacting," Bram said.
"Maybe, but when he says something like that it makes me feel, oh, I don't know--like I shouldn't be or something."
"Why? Because you're his mother and mothers don't hold hands with or kiss men?"
"You make it sound ridiculous."
"Davis doesn't mind. What he says shows that."
Vala knew he was right. Davis seemed pleased she liked Bram and attributed the kiss and, probably the hand-holding as well, to that. But how he'd react to anything more wasn't clear. Not that she intended to give him any opportunity to react to more.
"I'm really tired," she told Bram. "A good night's sleep on a real innerspring mattress sounds like heaven right now so I think I'll turn in early."
"And lay there wondering if I'm going to creep into your room once you're asleep and carry you off to my lair?" The amusement in his voice riled her, since something of the sort had crossed her mind.
"Or maybe hoping?" he added.
That, too, damn the man.
"Neither," she lied. "You won't and we both know it."
"Don't be too sure. You were wrong about me years ago, don't forget."
"That was in another time and in other circumstances. And I didn't really know what you were like then."
True. But if it hadn't been for that damn Ice Maiden bet she'd overheard, she certainly would have let him kiss her. At the very least.
"And you think you know me now?" he persisted.
Vala nodded.
Bram responded by yanking her to him and fitting his mouth over hers in a kiss that she felt in the very marrow of her bones.
Chapter 14
Vala's attempt to escape from him without so much as a good night kiss had driven Bram to remind her just how potent a combination they were together. He hadn't meant to take it any further, but the feel of Vala in his arms and the taste of her in his mouth drove him past the point he'd meant to make. Now he wanted, needed more.
Her heated response told him she felt the same way and he was close to losing control, despite the fact he could hear Star Trek sound effects filtering into the living room from the den, reminding him of Davis's presence. Just a little longer, he told himself, just a little more.
"Bram, please, we can't." Vala's whispered plea against his lips brought him to his senses and, very much against his will, he released her.
As he did, he realized the faint drone of sound from the den had diminished. Rising from the couch, he went to investigate. On the TV screen the credits were rolling, the movie was over. Davis lay sprawled on the floor, sound asleep.
Bram switched off the TV and set the VCR to rewind before crouching to lift D
avis into his arms. He carried him into the guest bedroom, found Vala had folded back the covers earlier, and eased the boy onto the bed. He tucked him in, then brushed a stray strand of fair hair from the kid's forehead. Strange to have gotten so attached in such a short time to a child who wasn't his.
When he straightened, he saw Vala standing in the doorway watching him. The look in her eyes settled into his heart.
He wanted to hold her, to protect her, to keep her and her son from all possible harm. Which clearly meant letting her sleep alone tonight. Davis was in a strange bed, in a strange house--sound sleeper or not, there was no guarantee he wouldn't rouse and get up to make sure where his mother was.
Hell of a note when a man had the woman he wanted to make love to right here in his own house, but wasn't going to carry her off to his bed. Where had he acquired all these damn scruples anyway?
"You mentioned something about an early night," he said to her as she approached him. "Good idea." Not trusting himself to so much as touch her, he strode from the guest bedroom, tossing a "see you in the morning" over his shoulder.
Bram realized when he crawled into his bed that he was more tired than he'd thought. Good. Maybe he wouldn't lie awake imagining Vala sharing the bed with him, with the accompanying frustration because she wasn't.
Luck was with him, he fell into the deep pit of sleep almost immediately....
Bram found himself standing on a high plateau with a blanket wrapped around him. His long hair, hanging in braids down his back, was bound by a beaded band. He was himself and, at the same time, another.
"So we meet," a hissing voice said. He who spoke was not visible. "You, who are of the blood, take heed."
Words came to Bram, "Grandfather," he said, using the proper term for an honored elder. "Grandfather, I listen."
"Why do you not help us, you who are wise in the ways of the white man's law?"
Bram had no answer.
"Be warned," the voice continued. "It is not enough to say you are one of us. Look at me!"
