“I remember my brother listening to AC/DC.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“Yep.” She plugged in the tape and said, “Evan lives in Germany with his wife and kids. I don’t see him much.”
Suddenly the inside of the truck was assaulted with an electric guitar and screeching vocals. Hope turned the volume down several notches below earsplitting and sat back to enjoy the ride into the Idaho wilderness. Earlier, Dylan had woken her up from a sound sleep with the wild idea of backpacking to a lake he wanted her to see.
Since she needed pictures for her alien stories anyway, she hadn’t been opposed to a hike. Until he’d told her they would spend the night and return tomorrow. She’d refused to even consider sleeping in a tent, but then he’d sat on her and kissed her neck and told her he wouldn’t let the bears get her. It hadn’t been his promise of safety that had swayed her, but she’d discovered days ago that she was sucker for the way he kissed her neck.
It had been a week since that Wednesday afternoon when he’d barged into her house and assured her he hadn’t come over for sex. A week since the condom incident. A week since they’d bothered with one. She’d seen him every day. Slept with him every night. He’d taught her how to do the two-step and taken her night fishing. He’d told her about his life as a homicide detective. How and why he’d come to hate it, and how much he enjoyed his life now. She told him about college and writing obituaries for The Los Angeles Times, and how she was trying to enjoy her life again. They discussed the article about Hiram she was working on. She asked him questions and he answered. No, he hadn’t been the FBI’s informant and he didn’t know who it had been. No, he hadn’t been first on the scene the night the old sheriff had killed himself, although he’d arrived shortly after the FBI agents. He’d seen the photographs and videos and the dead body of a man out of control.
She’d asked for his perspective.
“He had a sickness that got too big for him. When you cheat and steal and risk everything, you have a problem. The more he got into it, the more he wanted. In California, it’s not that difficult to find a place that caters to that sort of thing. But this is Gospel, honey. If you want to get tied up, you have to go to where the talent resides. And that takes money.” He smiled and winked at her. “Unless you find someone who enjoys that sort of thing as much as you do.”
Hope felt herself blush at the reminder of his tying her to a chair the night before. She’d never mentioned her job with The Weekly News of the Universe. He’d reacted somewhat negatively when she mentioned she’d queried People magazine about her article. She didn’t know if he’d cop a patronizing attitude, but she wasn’t sure. It was better for now that he thought she wrote for a Northwest magazine.
Mostly, they watched movies, or just held hands and didn’t do anything. She liked that best of all. Just sitting still, being quiet, knowing he was there.
Shelly thought things were getting serious between the two of them. Hope knew better. Whenever he came to her house, he parked behind the Aberdeens‘. Sometimes he came across the lake in his boat. When they were at his house, he parked his truck in his barn. His reasons all sounded perfectly logical. If people knew he was home, they’d stop by. They’d want to chat and gossip and bring him food, and he wouldn’t have as much time to spend with her. Yeah, it sounded reasonable, but it didn’t feel like the whole truth. It felt like there was something he wasn’t saying, and Hope wondered again if he was embarrassed to be seen with her. She knew he didn’t like to be the subject of gossip, but she wondered if he would mind so much if the gossip weren’t about his relationship with her.
She looked at him now, at his Stetson resting on his head, fingers tapping the steering wheel to the beat of hard rock, and she wondered exactly how he did feel about her. She knew what she felt for him, and it frightened her. It sneaked inside her chest and gave her heart panicky palpitations. She wasn’t in love with him, not yet, but it could happen if she weren’t careful. And she planned to be very careful.
Dylan slowed and turned onto a dusty, bumpy road. They quickly rolled up the windows, and Dylan ejected the tape from the player. The rolling meadows gave way to a lodgepole forest and within three miles the road ended at the Iron Creek trailhead. Before they’d left that morning, he’d insisted that she borrow Shelly’s hiking boots and down parka. The boots on her feet were made of waterproof mesh and Gore-Tex and were lighter than she would have expected. The puffy coat had been rolled like a sausage and stuffed in her backpack. Presently it was ninety-four degrees beneath a cloudless sky, and Hope wore a pair of camouflage shorts and a green tank top. She’d applied a few swipes of waterproof mascara, and Dylan had given her a tube of SPF 15 Chapstick, which she had in her pocket. She felt a little naked without blusher and lip liner, but Dylan told her he liked the way she looked. She didn’t believe him for a second, but he’d certainly seen her in the morning when she looked her worse.
The truck rolled to a stop in a parking area sectioned out of the forest by logs. There was one Jeep and a pickup and camper parked on the far side. Earlier, Dylan had mentioned that the area wouldn’t be busy because it was the middle of the week. He’d been right.
Dylan was dressed in his usual Levi’s, blue T-shirt, and hat. There were two notable differences: He’d traded in his cowboy boots for hiking boots much like Hope’s, and he’d strapped a pistol to his hip.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“Keeps the bugs away,” he said, then took off his sunglasses and sprayed himself down with insect repellent.
There had been a time not too long ago when she would have thought he meant to shoot flies, and he would have had a good laugh at her expense. Now she thought she knew him better than that. “No. The gun.”
“Cover your face,” he said and sprayed her, too. “I told you I’d protect you from bears, didn’t I?”
“Oh, my God,” she said from behind her hands. “You didn’t tell me you were going to shoot bears.”
“You didn’t ask.”
She dropped her hands as he sprayed her stomach and the front of her legs. “Okay, isn’t this the part where you tell me bears taste just like chicken?”
“Bear doesn’t taste anything like chicken.” He walked behind her and sprayed. “It’s tough as a boot and real gamey.”
She didn’t want to know how he’d come by that information. “Do you think we’ll see bears?”
“Not likely.” He stuck the can of “bug juice” into his backpack. “Chances are they’ll smell us and run away long before we see them. Black bears usually aren’t aggressive, but if we see one, we’ll just make some noise, and I’ll shoot my gun in the air to scare it off. Mostly they just want to know where you are so they can head in the opposite direction.” He grabbed the backpack that belonged to Adam out of the bed of his truck and helped her into it. Unlike the cute little Ralph Lauren backpack she’d bought at Saks last summer, this one had a metal frame and two sturdy mesh harnesses that belted across the hips and chest. Dylan widened the straps for her, then stepped back to eye the fit. Her breasts were squished together at the top, and he widened the straps a bit more. His hands lingered at the task longer than was necessary. His knuckles brushed across her tank top, and then he gave up all pretense of strap adjusting and cupped her left breast. When she looked up, he turned her face to the side and settled into a slow, soft kiss. His hand moved to her stomach, then slid around her side. “I want to show you the most beautiful place I’ve ever been,” he whispered lightly against her mouth. His tender kisses left her wanting more, but when her tongue chased his, he pulled back. “I think you’ll like it.”
Which meant, she supposed, that it wasn’t a great time to confess to him that she really wasn’t into Mother Nature.
Dylan shrugged on his own pack, a bigger version of Adam’s. Still, she wondered how he’d managed to get a two-man tent in there.
He reached for her hand. The first hour of the trip was easy. Th
ey walked the Iron Creek trail through thick lodgepole pines, and he stopped to show her flowers she might be interested in photographing for her fictional magazine article. Growing near the crystal-clear water of Iron Creek were Mountain Bluebell, Heather, and Alpine Laurel. He picked a wild daisy and stuck it behind her ear, and he seemed to be having such a good time helping her, she just didn’t have the heart to tell him there wouldn’t be any wildlife article. She snapped a few photos of the flowers, and she took a few of him, too.
The second and third hours weren’t quite as easy as the first. The forest grew thicker and the trail became a series of narrow switchbacks worn into the side the mountain. Dense vegetation carpeted the ground and all but swallowed fallen trees and rocks. Squirrels chattered as they raced across the ground and disappeared into the foliage. Birds called to one another in the trees above Hope’s head. Their songs carried on the pine-scented breeze.
Hope’s calves ached, and she thought she might be getting a blister on her heel. She had to keep her weight pitched forward as she climbed, afraid she’d tumble backward if she didn’t.
Dylan told her the names of different mountain peaks and about the time he’d hunted bighorn sheep in the White Clouds. She broke a fingernail, and he dug out his nail clippers so she could fix it with the little file.
“You’re such a girl.” He laughed and made her walk in front of him when the trail narrowed. She missed watching the backs of his legs and his behind, and during lulls in conversation, she again wondered how he felt about her. She tried to picture her life with him and couldn’t, but she couldn’t picture her life without him, either. They’d made no promises to each other. Never spoke of tomorrow, and she wondered how their relationship would change once Adam returned from visiting his mother. Dylan’s son was due to return home that Sunday, and Hope was certain that would change everything. What she wasn’t so certain about was how things would change.
Dylan helped her balance on rocks and fallen logs as they crossed a stream. They rested on a huge boulder so Hope could catch her breath, and they took off the packs and leaned them against the rock. While she ate peanuts and drank from her canteen, Dylan took his hat off and poured water over his head. It ran down his neck and soaked his shirt, and he shook like a dog, sending clear droplets everywhere. And then he finally mentioned Adam. Hope sat very still, waiting to hear his plans. Whatever they were, she would be okay, she told herself.
“He seems to like you,” Dylan told her as he sat next to her and polished a red apple on his sleeve. A breeze ruffled his damp hair and dried the ends a golden brown. “But after he’s home, I can’t spend the night with you anymore.” Dylan took a bite of the apple, then held it out for her to take a bite. “When my son’s older, I don’t think I can tell him he can’t bring girlfriends home for the night if I have. I start back to work next week, too. I want to make time to be with you, but it won’t be easy.” He took another bite of the apple. “And I don’t just mean time to have a quickie somewhere.”
She let out a breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding. “Well, we can plan fun things that include Adam,” she said and meant it. “He’s a funny little kid, and I wouldn’t mind hanging out with him.” She looked up into his eyes, the same dark green as the pine trees behind him. “And you do have a lunch hour, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said through a smile as he tossed the core. “At least an hour.”
She ran her hands up his wet T-shirt and locked her fingers behind his neck. She leaned into him and her breasts brushed his cool, wet chest. “And what if I had to come to your office and swear out some sort of complaint? Would I get past your secretary?”
“Depends on what you have to complain about.”
She brought his head down and kissed his lips. “Maybe that I’m lonely,” she whispered. “Maybe that I miss a certain cowboy and his big-” She broke off and slid a hand to his button fly. Through the worn denim, she cupped and caressed him until he grew hard.
“Big what?”
“Ego,” she said, then teased him with her mouth and tongue. He carefully laid her back on the boulder and sealed his lips to hers. He created a tight, wet suction and gave her a hot kiss that scorched her skin in a way that had nothing to do with the sun pouring down on their heads. It had her pressing her hips into his and running her fingers through his damp hair. He buried his face in her neck. “I love the way you feel right here,” he whispered against her throat. “I love your soft skin and the way you smell, like powder.”
It wasn’t exactly a declaration of deep emotion, but it was the closest he’d come to it, and it made her heart ache. “I like you, too,” she said and shoved her hands beneath his shirt and rubbed his back.
He looked into her face, his breathing a bit labored. “Sorry, honey. I can’t show you my big ego right now.” He removed her hands and kissed her forehead. “Later. Under the stars.”
Hope’s hands stilled. “Under the stars? You packed a tent, didn’t you?”
“Nope, but I brought my big sleeping bag. It’ll be a little snug.” The grin curving his lips suggested he’d had the whole evening planned before they’d even packed. “I think we’ll manage somehow.”
Hope sat up. “What about bugs?”
“You’ll only suck in a few.” She clamped a hand to her mouth and he laughed. “You won’t even know it. You’ll be asleep. And if you get a beetle, just chew.”
She didn’t want to suck bugs and eat beetles in her sleep. She didn’t want to be a baby, either, but a little whine of distress escaped from behind her hand.
“I was kidding about the beetle,” he said, which did little to relieve her mind.
They hiked to Alpine Lake ridge and looked down into the tiny green lake nestled hundreds of feet below. Voices carried up to them, but they could see nothing for the dense sea of emerald trees. Hope almost felt as if she were standing on top of the world.
“Listen,” Dylan whispered.
“I don’t hear anyone talking now,” she said.
“Not to the voices.” He was silent for a moment and reached for her hand. “Do you hear it?”
She heard the breeze whistling through the tree-tops, the call of birds, and maybe the stream they’d crossed. “What am I listening for?”
“It’s hard to explain, but Shelly says it’s like listening to God. I think it’s more like a pulse, or like hearing beauty instead of seeing it.” He shrugged. “It’s different for everyone, but you’ll know when you hear it. You’ll feel like you’re falling and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it.”
They hiked higher, the trail now chiseled out of rock. Hope listened carefully, but she didn’t hear God. She didn’t hear beauty or anything, but she was feeling increasingly exhausted. She and Dylan crossed outlet streams and walked around tundra ponds. Her ponytail was a snarled mess, she was sure her nose was burned, and she’d had to file one fingernail a lot shorter than the others.
Just when she was about to ask if they could stop and rest again, they stood on the snow-covered shores of Sawtooth Lake. She looked out at water so crystal blue, she could see the bottom all the way across to the base of the granite mountain towering above them.
“This lake is two hundred and fifty feet deep,” Dylan told her. “But it’s so clean it looks like you could wade across it.”
She was quiet for a few moments, watching the glaciered snow drip into the lake the color of the purest sapphire. While the beauty around her was awesome, she didn’t hear God.
“This is what I wanted to show you. This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It reminds me of you,” he said.
And that was when Hope heard it, and it was better than anything she’d ever heard in her life. Her heart swelled like a balloon in her chest and her pulse raced. She felt herself fall, just like he’d said she would. She fell head over heels in love with Dylan Taber, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it.
ANGELS VISIT YOUR DREAMS
“There’s the Big Dipper.” Dylan grasped Hope’s wrist and pointed to the night sky. “And there’s the Little Dipper.”
He’d been right about the sleeping bag. They were somehow managing. Cramped but comfy, the down bag provided just enough room for them to lie side by side. Except for their shoes, they were fully clothed in jeans and sweatshirts. Dylan told her she’d be grateful in the morning when she didn’t have to change into cold clothes. Since she’d never camped before, she took his word for it.
She lay with her head on Dylan’s shoulder, his body throwing off heat like a human furnace. He’d blown up an air mattress to lie beneath the bag, and although her nose was getting chilled, Hope had absolutely no complaints.
“There’s the North Star,” he said and slid their hands to the west. “And Cassiopeia.”
Hope had never been a constellation buff and had to take his word for that, too.
“She’s chained upside down in her throne and has to circle the heavens on her head.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “I’m glad you came here with me.”
“I’m glad you brought me.” Of all the wonderful places she’d been in her life, or could think of being in at the exact moment, none held the appeal of lying in a sleeping bag in the Idaho wilderness with Dylan Taber. The man she loved with her heart and soul.
He rose up onto his elbow, and she gazed into his dark face, outlined against a sky crammed with stars. “Hope?”
“What?”
“I want to tell you something.” He placed her palm against his cheek, rough with stubble. “In my life, I’ve been with women I didn’t care about and women I cared a great deal about. But I’ve never been with a woman who makes me feel the way you do.” He lowered his head and whispered against her lips, “Sometimes when I look at you, it’s hard to breathe. When you touch me, I don’t care about breathing.” He kissed her slow and sweet, and with each press of his lips and touch of his tongue, her heart swelled and ached. It was wonderful and awful and brand-new. Then he pulled back to say, “I don’t know how this is all going to work out, but I want to be with you. You are important to me.”
True Confessions Page 22
