Templeton, Julia

by Trail Boss (Triskelion) (lit)

  “How did it ruin her?”

  “She got involved in drugs.”

  “She must have fallen in with the wrong crowd.”

  He nodded. “She did. It was really sad too, cause she was a good woman. She would have made Landon a good wife.”

  “He really loved her, didn’t he?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, he did. My daddy said Nikki was a sweetheart, and she loved Landon. The two of them would ride everyday, and damn the girl could cook like nobody’s business. She’d lost her Mama when she was just a girl, so Nikki had taken up the house duties, cooking being one of them. She won the pie baking contest at the county fair every year for six straight years.”

  Another strike against Krista. She couldn’t bake to save her life. In fact, Marie Callender was the cook at her house.

  So . . . how did one compete with the perfect woman, even if that woman was a ghost?

  “Do you think they would have married had she not gone to the city?”

  He nodded. “Definitely. Daddy always said they were two peas in a pod. They could even finish each others sentences.”

  “So, in a nutshell what you’re saying is that Landon detests the city for what it took from him, and chances of him coming to Seattle are probably pretty slim?”

  “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” He had the grace to flash a sympathetic smile. “But I would like to see you come here more. Maybe even on a full-time basis.”

  * * *

  The sun was close to setting and still Cory and Krista hadn’t returned. Landon looked off into the horizon and tried to keep his worry at bay.

  They had taken off like bats out of hell. Anyone would have been able to hear Cory’s yee-ha from a mile away.

  Betty’s laughter rang out and Landon smiled. He would miss the matronly woman with a passion. She had kept the group motivated these past two weeks on the trail, and her gift for telling scary stories had everyone near jumping out of their skin each night.

  He glanced over at the tree Krista had been sitting beneath earlier when he noticed her journal, face down in the dirt.

  He knew she’d been stressing about the article she’d have to come up with for the newspaper. This afternoon had been the first time she’d actually taken the time to sit down and write. From time to time he’d glance over and she’d be biting her lip as she wrote. Then there had been that moment when he’d looked up and she’d been looking straight at him, telling him with that heated look in her blue eyes, that she craved him the same way he craved her.

  God help him, but he didn’t want this to end. Already he felt the awkwardness of knowing they would have to say goodbye by week’s end. What then? She would fly off into the sunset and he would go on with life. Get cattle ready for market, then pick up new guests in a few weeks and go on like nothing had happened.

  He called himself a thousand kinds of fool for having broken the rules he’d made for his entire crew. Falling for a guest was taboo. It wasn’t done, because it could compromise not only the business, but also his reputation.

  Funny thing was he didn’t feel any remorse about having fooled around with Krista. Rather he felt exhilarated for the first time in years. He hadn’t realized just how lonely he’d become. True, he’d absorbed himself with the ranch, but even his most prized possession couldn’t replace a woman, particularly one that he loved.

  The realization that he’d fallen in love with Krista made his stomach churn.

  He’d gone and fallen for another woman whose pull of the city was so strong, he’d have a hard time competing.

  He picked up the black leather journal, and wiped off the dust on the velum pages when his eye caught his name on the page. Landon loves the land he was born to and despises the city that took his only love from him —— a country girl born and bred. A woman who found the lure of the city too much, and in the end became a junkie, dying of an overdose in a unfamiliar city, far from the beautiful land where she’d once called home.

  His blood turned cold as he read the feminine scroll on the page. She had no right to dredge up the past —— and to share it with hundreds of thousands of people was going too far.

  He snapped the journal closed, walked to her tent, where he tossed it on her pillow. Furious, he walked back to the others and told himself that he should have known better.

  Krista was not at all the woman he thought she was.

  * * *

  Something was not right.

  Krista had felt it the second she returned. The others were busy preparing dinner, but she didn’t see Landon. It took some doing, but she found him far away from the others, busy chopping wood.

  He didn’t bother to look up as she approached him, and she let her gaze linger over his body, wanting to lick the sweat that beaded on his dark skin.

  Her insides tightened, remembering last night. They’d taken a walk into the mountains, a ridge with lots of rock and hidden crevices. He had taken her in one of those crevices, bending her over a rock and entering her from behind. It had been a wild mating, a mating that let her know how desperately he desired her.

  The feverish look in his eyes had intensified the experience, and when he had come with a satisfied groan, she had followed him over the edge with an orgasm that left her trembling.

  She wanted him again.

  In that same fashion, taking him deep inside her body, feeling every inch of his thick, long cock.

  Tomorrow they would be back at the lodge and they could make love in a bed. In fact, she looked around at the somewhat familiar campsite. This is where they had made love that first time. The pond.

  Her heart pounded. “Do you want to go for a swim later?”

  He looked up, and the fury she saw in his eyes took her off-guard. What the hell was the matter with him? Was he mad that she and Cory had taken so long? “I don’t think so.”

  She lifted her brows. “We didn’t mean to be gone for so long. The strays didn’t want to move very fast.”

  “My anger has nothing to do with getting the strays or with Cory.”

  “Then what?”

  He looked at her the longest time, and it made her increasingly uncomfortable. Her mind raced. What had she done that she deserved such disdain?

  He turned away and started chopping again.

  With a heavy heart, she shook her head and went to help Betty and the others out.

  The chatter continued through dinner, but Krista didn’t pay much attention. Instead, she watched Landon across the fire, eating the barbeque chicken while staring into the fire. He seemed more than a little reserved, but soon pulled out of it when Cory brought out the guitar. As everyone joined in singing Home on the Range, a lump formed in Krista’s throat. She glanced over at the newlyweds, who cuddled together, then back at Landon.

  How could he turn it off so easy? What had changed in the space of a few short hours? Her mind raced, thinking back. Everything had been fine earlier. She’d been sitting at the tree, writing in her ——

  The journal!

  She looked into the darkness, over by the tree where she had set it aside. When Cory had prodded her to come with him to find the strays, she hadn’t taken the time to put it away.

  Landon must have found it, but why would he read it? Or perhaps someone else had found it, read it, and told him about it?

  Krista glanced at the young couple just off to Landon’s right. They sat huddled together, their love apparent to everyone around them.

  For the first time in a long while, she felt envious.

  When Betty got up to do dishes, Krista followed, wanting the older woman’s advice.

  “You don’t need to help, hon. You had dish duty last night.”

  “I wanted your advice.”

  Setting the pans aside, Betty patted the spot beside her. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “I made a mistake. I wrote something about Landon and his ex-girlfriend —— something personal and hurtful.”

  Betty looked disappointed, but s
he put a hand on Krista’s shoulder and squeezed. “Ah, that explains the silence at dinner.”

  “I left the journal behind.”

  Betty nodded. “I saw him pick it up. So, why don’t you say something to him?”

  “Like what?”

  She smiled. “Like I’m sorry. I made an error in judgment and I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” She shrugged. “At least you will have said your peace.”

  Betty was right. She needed to say her peace.

  Two hours later Krista waited until the first few people sauntered off to bed before she excused herself, thankful that the tree she’d been writing beneath earlier was not too far from her tent. Glancing over at the tree, she saw in a glance that the journal wasn’t there. When she entered her tent, there it was, as big as you please, smack dab on her pillow.

  Her stomach turned.

  She grabbed the journal and reread the passage out loud.

  Landon loves the land he was born to and despises the city that took his only love from him —— a country girl born and bred. A woman who found the lure of the city too much, and in the end became a junkie, dying of an overdose in a unfamiliar city, far from the beautiful land where she’d once called home.

  She winced. It was harsh. Very harsh. Landon had every right to be furious with her. How would she feel if the tables were turned?

  Betrayed.

  Krista lay back on her sleeping bag, listening as guests bid each other good night and found their way back to their respective tents. She peeked out and saw Landon sitting alone, staring into the fire.

  She took a deep breath and went to him.

  He poked the fire with a stick, but didn’t look up at her approach.

  “I’m sorry, Landon.”

  He looked up, his expression cast in stone.

  “I shouldn’t have written about Nikki. I had no right.”

  His gaze searched hers as an awkward silence stretched into an agonizing minute. “That’s right. You had no right. She was a good woman.”

  A better woman than you. He didn’t have to say the words to know he thought them. Disappointment was evident in his eyes. “That’s what I hear.”

  “Yet you would go ahead and write about her in such a negative light, letting people pass judgment on her, and her family. They don’t deserve that, Krista. No one does. You might live in a town with hundreds of thousands of people who don’t know, but it’s not like that here. People just don’t get lost in the crowd. We stick up for our own.”

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes. “You’re right. I was wrong. Please forgive me.”

  He lifted his brows and took a deep breath. “You can write anything you want about me, but don’t write about anyone else that I love.”

  She knew she had his forgiveness, but he wouldn’t forget what she’d done. She had hurt him far more than he would ever let on. This man who lived by the land and still believed in chivalry, honor and loyalty.

  His gaze shifted to the journal in her hand. “There’s a bigger story here, Krista. One that has very little to do with me. I had hoped that you would find yourself while you were here. Wyoming is a beautiful place and you’re a beautiful woman when you strip yourself of all the things that the city has made you.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and splattered onto the black leather cover of her journal. The book, holding her stories and ideas, felt heavy in her hand. She looked from Landon to the fire, then without another thought, threw the journal in the flames.

  Without a backward glance, she went back to her tent and cried herself to sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Where the hell was she?

  They’d returned to the ranch three days ago, and as expected, all twelve guests kept to their cabins for the first twenty-four hours or so, catching up on sleep and relaxing. A few, like the young couple, went rafting on the river. Betty and the professor took Cory up on his offer to take them fishing, while Sam and the Alexander family stayed close to the lodge and the pool, taking advantage of the down time before they returned to their lives.

  Tomorrow night would be it. Their last night here.

  Landon looked toward Krista’s cabin. Betty had made a point to check in on her a couple of times a day, but even the sweet woman couldn’t pull her out of the damned cabin to join them.

  Running a hand through his hair, he walked toward the cabin. He could hear her talking. Cell phone? “I’ll fax it by tonight. I promise! Alright, Gavin. I heard you the first time. You’ll have your story.”

  So that’s what had kept her away. The story.

  He wouldn’t allow himself to get angry over it anymore. Krista knew how he felt, and she would either honor his wishes, or she would write about he and Nikki. The thought tore at his insides. He loved Nikki’s family like his own, and he hated for them to feel shame over the loss of their daughter, a woman who had been the perfect child.

  Whatever happened, happened, and he couldn’t stop it.

  * * *

  Krista stared at the blank screen of her laptop. She had three hours in which to write a sparkling five hundred-word story about her life on the Lazy Z Ranch. Images of the past three weeks raced through her mind, and every time she thought of Landon, her eyes filled with tears and her heart ached. She had messed things up so badly. Why had she taken the low road and gone for the gritty story? Why hadn’t she been professional and written a story about the hard-working cowboys of the Lazy Z. About the six generations of men who had worked the land, and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  Because she knew that the gritty stories were the ones chosen for the front page, and the journalists who took chances were the ones who got the promotions.

  She took a deep breath and typed the words. I’ll never forget the first time I set eyes on the trail boss of the Lazy Z. I knew in that moment that my life would never again be the same.

  Krista reread the words and smiled.

  * * *

  Landon kept looking toward the double doors that lead into the main lodge. Everyone had already eaten, and the band was setting up on the makeshift stage.

  It seemed that Krista would stay in her cabin until tomorrow afternoon when he took them to the airport.

  Disappointment filled every inch of him. He hadn’t wanted things to end this way. But every time he took two steps toward her cabin, he ended up stopping himself, figuring that keeping his distance would only make it easier on both of them.

  Anyway, what would he say to her now? She was already in work mode, not surfacing and no doubt counting the hours until her plane took off for her beloved Seattle.

  The minute she left, she would never look back, and these past few weeks would be nothing but a memory.

  You should feel relieved, his conscience told him, but his heart was saying something altogether different.

  “Go to her.”

  Landon looked at his cousin, who he’d always looked as more of a nephew than a cousin, since ten years separated them. It seemed Cory had grown up. He nodded toward the door. “Go! At least say your peace.”

  “But what if she doesn’t want to hear it?”

  The sides of Cory’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “Trust me, she’ll want to hear it. I bet she’s been as miserable as you’ve been.”

  Landon took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “You think?”

  “I’d bet a month’s salary on it.” His eyes gleamed, then he glanced off to Landon’s right. “Looks like you were just saved the trouble. Our girl just showed.”

  Landon’s heart pounded hard in his chest. Good Lord, he hadn’t felt this way since he was a boy at his first barn dance. Krista stood in the doorway, wearing a jean miniskirt, a white blouse, a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

  “Go get her,” Cory said, patting him on the back.

  The band struck up the Tim McGraw/Faith Hill song Let’s M
ake Love. As the guests gathered on the dance floor, Landon walked toward the woman who watched him warily.

  It seemed like a month had passed since he’d last seen her, and not just four days. “Get your story finished?”

  The minute he said the words, he wished he could take them back. Her smile faltered. “Yeah. I faxed it just a little while ago.”

  He didn’t even want to know what the story was about. “Good. I’m glad.”

  The sides of her mouth lifted in a smile. “Yeah, I bet you are.”

  He glanced over at the guests, some of who danced, some of who watched the two of them. “You care to dance?”

  She nodded and followed him out onto the dance floor. He pulled her into his arms, and she seemed to melt in his embrace, pressing her cheek against his chest, no doubt listening to the pounding of his racing heart. She felt so good. So right.

  The song was coming to an end. Landon glanced at the singer and gave a silent nod. The old cowboy nodded in understanding and started the first verse all over again.

  When the dance ended, Cory was there, pulling her into his arms before she could utter a word. Landon would have been more than content just to hold her tight.

  It seemed like only minutes had passed when they announced the last song. Landon headed for Krista, but was cut-off by the Alexander’s eldest daughter, Holly, the sweet auburn-haired, freckle faced girl who had done a great job of keeping Cory out of his hair these past weeks.

  And speaking of Cory. He was once again swinging Krista around the dance floor. The two laughed, and Krista let out a squeal as he got a little too exuberant with a twirl, but caught her before she fell back into a table.

  “That’s it folks,” the singer called out.

  A sigh went up and Landon took the microphone. “Thank you, everyone. It’s been a great few weeks, and you’ve honestly been one of the best groups I’ve ever had. I’m amazed with how far you’ve all come. When you’re back at your homes, be it the city or the country, I hope you remember the days and nights you’ve spent here in Wyoming. Don’t forget that we’re not going anywhere, and our door is always open to you.”