In fact, it sounded pretty good. Looks like he was going to get a chance to ride in her classic Mustang. Beyond that, he had no idea what she was thinking.
* * *
What on earth had she been thinking? Billie stood in the garage and looked at Daisy Belle. Why hadn’t she said they were going to go for a walk? Or pitch hay? Or fling horseshoes over the barn? That would have been fun. But, oh no, she’d gotten this big idea about riding around on motorcycles simply because it seemed like a carefree thing to do and now she had to follow through with it. She’d ridden bikes like this many times, but not in a couple of years, and never with a someone who unnerved her the way Cam did.
She glanced over to where Cam’s bike was parked. She’d only been in this big garage a couple of times since she’d been on the Muleshoe, but she’d never noticed another motorcycle. She could see why now. It had been covered with a dark tarp which was now folded up and put aside. Cam’s motorcycle was like Doreen’s, a Harley, but black, and all business. Like its owner, she thought. As promised, Jess had it ready, spruced up and gassed up.
And why had she decided she had to have her own bike? She could have ridden behind Cam. He probably knew all about it, could do a better job, be in charge . . . .
Oh yeah, she reminded herself. That was the whole point. Cam needed a break from being in charge. He needed to have some fun. And she definitely didn’t need to ride with her arms wrapped around his waist, her nose buried in his neck, thinking about how much she loved him and how impossible it all was. It was very important that she stop panicking and second-guessing herself.
She smoothed her hair back out of the way and strapped on Doreen’s helmet. She had dressed in jeans, boots, and a sleeveless blouse of bright tomato red. It was too hot to wear a jacket and they wouldn’t be going far, anyway. Cautiously, she rode out of the garage and took a couple of turns around the yard, thrilled that she could get the feel and handling of the machine so quickly.
Billie had been so focused on the bike that she hadn’t noticed the audience that was lined up on the porch until she finished her circuits of the yard and came to a stop at the porch steps. Doreen, holding another helmet in her hands, stood smiling proudly at her. Brian and Jess looked amazed and envious, and Cam – Cam’s expression was priceless.
He stood with his hands hanging at his sides, his gray eyes were wide with wonder and his mouth dropped open. His mother stepped forward, lifted his hand to place the helmet in it, gently tapped his jaw shut, and nudged him down the stairs. She then grasped Brian and Jess by the hands and took them back inside.
“I didn’t know this was what you had in mind,” Cam said, eyeing Daisy Belle as he passed his helmet from hand to hand. “You’re sure you know how to control this bike?”
“Of course,” she responded with more assurance than she felt, and gave him a big smile to hide her nervousness. “And your bike is ready, too. Let’s go.”
“Billie, I . . . .”
“You promised,” she reminded him, knowing how he felt about keeping his promises.
He looked at her for a few more seconds, until she thought her smile was going to crack, then he gave her a slow grin and headed to the garage, strapping on his helmet as he went.
“He’s reluctant,” she murmured. “But willing. That’s something, right?”
Within moments, he drove his bike up behind hers and she guided the way off the Muleshoe and onto the highway that went straight through town. She knew they could have gone the other direction, but Doreen had told her about Swanson’s Peak, a place Cam had once enjoyed visiting. Billie figured they could get up there, enjoy the view and the sunset, and get down, back onto the highway before dark.
As they passed, side by side, through Lucky Break, several people recognized them and waved. Not yet confident enough to let go of the handles, Billie didn’t wave back, but Cam did, swiftly, casually, as if he rode through town on his Harley every day of the week.
Billie realized she should have given this more thought. People were watching them pass. She could feel their eyes boring into her back. And, after all, this was Lucky Break, an eccentric small town where she and Cam were now going to be the major topic of conversation.
Oh well, nothing to do but live with it and she was determined to have fun this evening.
She should have known Cam would have ideas of his own. That’s what happened with someone who was used to being in charge. A few miles out of town, he indicated that she should pull over by pointing to a wide area beside the road.
She thought at first that there was something wrong with his bike and followed him down a narrow track between two fenced fields. He stopped, cut the motor, and removed his helmet.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked, her gaze traveling over him and his motorcycle, looking for a problem.
“No, I need to stop here.”
“Here? I thought I was supposed to be in charge of this expedition.”
His eyes twinkled. “But this will only add to the fun.”
She glanced around at the dusty roads, the pasture, the cattle. “How?”
“While we’re out here, Jim Beavers has a bull for sale that I want to look at. Come on.”
Billie bit back a comment about ‘really knowing how to show a girl a good time’ and followed him. “I guess you can take the man off the ranch, but you can’t take the ranch out of the man,” she commented, giving him a too-sweet smile.
Cam chuckled and the sound sent a happy tremor up her spine.
He strolled across the road and climbed onto a gate to get a better view of the field. “There he is. I told Jim I’d want to see an ultrasound before I made an offer.”
She gaped at him. “An ultrasound? He’s a bull! He can’t possibly be pregnant.”
Cam laughed, reached a hand down to haul her up beside him and said, “We use ultrasound to check the marbling on the beef. The better the marbling, the better the steak. When we put the wand right between the ribs you’ll be able to see a rib eye steak.”
She stared at him, appalled. “No, you’ll be able to see a rib eye steak. I think you just turned me into a vegetarian,” she said, and he laughed again.
“I’ll show you when it’s time,” he said. “I’m going to train Brian to do it so he can have his own little business. The other cattle breeders can call him in to ultrasound their animals. Help him earn money for college. It’s pretty interesting, and . . . .” He paused and his face changed. “Oh, I forgot. You’ll be gone by the time I start teaching it to Brian.”
Billie tried to decipher the tone in his voice. Was he sad? Resigned? Happy? She couldn’t tell, but it made the joy she’d been feeling dissipate as if blown by a puff of wind. She tried not to let her face betray her feelings.
“Probably,” she answered, and turned to follow where Cam was pointing.
“Ah, there he is. He’s a Red Angus, weighs about a thousand pounds.”
It took Billie a few seconds to realize that the rusty red SUV-sized thing she was looking at was the bull. It was the biggest thing she’d ever seen in her life. “Does he have his own zip code?” she asked in amazement.
“He’s not even the biggest one around here, or the biggest one I’ve ever owned.” Cam threw a leg over the top rail of the gate and said, “Come on.”
“Don’t you think Mr. Beavers will mind if you go on his property?”
“Not if he wants me to buy this animal. I don’t buy cattle on a whim.”
She gave him a steady look.
“Unless they’re starving,” he amended. “Jim won’t mind. He told me to stop by anytime.”
He jumped down on the other side of the gate and turned to help her. Even though Cam had permission, she felt funny about trespassing. On the other hand, if they had passed by and seen something wrong, Mr. Beavers would have expected them to stop and help. She already knew that neighbors looked out for each other here. She followed Cam, taking the hand he offered to help her down. To her surprise and deli
ght, he didn’t let go, but kept it snugly in his.
She glanced down at their clasped hands, and then up at him.
“Rough ground,” he said matter-of-factly, but gave her a slow, sweet smile that made her heart flutter.
She decided she didn’t care why he was holding her hand. She only knew it felt good and right.
The closer they got to the bull, though, the bigger it looked. “Is it tame?” She didn’t even try to hide the nervousness in her voice. She looked down at his massive legs and hooves that could crush one of her feet without even half trying.
“Jim says he’s just a big old pet. Name’s Rejuvenator.”
“How can you name him, call him a pet, ultrasound his ribs, and then eat him?”
“That’s the cattle business for you. You’ve got to be heartless.”
“As if I’d believe that what with you running around saving starving cattle.”
“So I can fatten them up, sell ‘em, and make a profit.”
He was teasing her. She wrinkled her nose at him and he chuckled again. She’d never heard him laugh this much before and she didn’t even mind that he was laughing at her.
They continued across the pasture and the bull ignored them as he munched contentedly on the grass. Billie stopped several yards away and reluctantly twisted her hand out of Cam’s grip. She reached up and gave him an encouraging pat on the back.
“Go ahead and make friends with him. Have a little bull-to-man bonding time.” She blinked at him innocently. “And please note that I didn’t say ‘bull-headed’ bonding time.”
“I’ll make a note of it, and . . . .” He stopped and turned toward the bull who was making an odd noise.
The animal had begun to paw the ground. His head lowered and he snorted through his nostrils like every cartoon bull Billie had ever seen. She expected his eyes to blaze red any second now. Red. She glanced down and gasped. “It’s my shirt, isn’t it? He’s seeing my red shirt.”
“No, Billie,” Cam tried to reassure her, but he grabbed her hand again, swung her around, and began loping across the field.
Their legs stretched and their hearts pumped as they made a mad dash back to the gate. Before they had gone more than a few yards, though, they heard the sound of thundering hooves and felt the ground shake. Billie glanced back to see the bull heading straight for them. At that moment, Cam pulled her to one side and they began running in a zig-zag pattern. She couldn’t imagine why they were wasting time and breath on this maneuver, but she followed along.
They reached the gate and Cam lifted her, practically throwing her over the top before following her. They landed in a tangled heap of arms and legs at the same moment the thousand-pound bull hit the gate.
CHAPTER NINE
Billie breathed a prayer of thanks when Rejuvenator gave the gate one last half-hearted bump to show them who was boss of the pasture. A big brown eye seemed to wink at her, then he lost interest in them and moved away, huffing and puffing to make sure the cows in the adjoining pasture were impressed by how he’d dealt with the intruders.
Billie grabbed the opportunity and quickly rolled up out of the dirt. She scurried across the narrow road before beginning to brush herself off and pick grass and leaves out of her hair.
“The next time you decide we need to stop and pet a bull, do you think you could warn me not to wear a red shirt?” Her hands were shaking and her breath still wasn’t steady.
“It wouldn’t have done any good,” Cam responded in a tone that she thought sounded much too casual. He stood up and brushed off his own clothes before strolling over to join her. She concentrated on trying to scrape a patch of mud off the knee of her jeans. It wasn’t even necessary for her to look up to know that Cam was laughing at her.
“Oh really?” She was too mad to say much more than that. “Why not?”
“It wasn’t your shirt that he didn’t like. It could have been anything that set him off. Our voices, movements . . . .”
“Someone equally bull-headed moving onto his property,” she finished for him in a snippy tone. Annoyed, she looked up and saw that as she had suspected, he was laughing at her. It hadn’t bothered her a few minutes ago, but now it infuriated her. Because she had to have the last word, she said, “Next time, remind me to wear a different color shirt. They don’t like red, so what color do bulls like? I’ll build my entire bull-visiting wardrobe around it.”
She crossed her arms and stood waiting for his answer. Instead of responding, he pulled out a pocketknife, flipped it open, and leaned down to scrape the mud off the knee of her jeans. She blinked, noticing that he did it as quickly and efficiently as he did everything else. Then he stood and pulled her close to him. She tried to move away, but he held her tight until she stopped struggling – and shaking. He leaned his head down so that his lips were next to her ear.
Gooseflesh rose on her arms as he whispered, “Bulls are color blind, Billie. Wear whatever you want next time we visit a bull. It’s a myth that they react to red. They react to sudden movements like the swirling of a matador’s cape. It was just chance that this one didn’t like us.”
Her breath caught as she looked up at the humor in his eyes. She saw that he wasn’t laughing at her, but at the whole crazy escapade. It was too much. She started to laugh. Cam joined her and they laughed until tears ran down their faces.
When they could get their breath, Cam stood smiling down at her. “This will be something we can tell our gran . . . .”
Billie’s heart bounced into her throat and color washed her face as her gaze flew up to meet his. She saw a flash of something that was quickly shuttered.
“. . . friends,” he amended and stepped away from her abruptly. He clapped the knife shut and dropped it into his pocket. Turning, he walked back to his bike.
She stumbled after him, her face burning and a million thoughts whirling like a sandstorm through her head. Had he been about to say ‘grandchildren’?
Cam cleared his throat. “Now, where were we going before we stopped to visit Rejuvenator?” He was all business now.
“That way,” Billie said. She recovered quickly and pointed as she gave him a big, happy smile that felt brittle and fake. She had never been good at pretending and this was no exception. “I’ll lead the way and no more detours.” She glanced at the sky. “I want to get there and head back before dark.”
He nodded, waited while she climbed onto Daisy Belle, and then followed her to the paved road.
Their bikes ate up the miles into the mountains. Billie spent the time going over and over what had just happened. They’d been laughing at the incident with the bull and then poof! he’d changed. She wanted to ask him what he’d been about to say but she didn’t, not sure if it was because she wanted to know he’d been about to say ‘grandchildren’ or because she didn’t want to know.
She wished she could pinpoint exactly when she’d become so wishy washy, but if it was part of falling in love, it was miserable.
Billie was relieved to see roadside markers showing the way to Swanson’s Peak so she didn’t have to pretend like she knew exactly where she was going. To her delight, there was an area beside the road big enough to park their motorcycles safely. They turned off their motors and climbed off their bikes.
Cam removed his helmet and hung it from the handle. He rested his hands at his waist and stood looking around with a small smile on his lips. “I haven’t been up here in years. My friends and I used to come up here all the time in high school – thought we were some big mountain climbers, I guess. How did you know?”
“Your mom,” Billie answered, pleased that he liked this surprise.
“Come on, I’ll show you the way up.” He glanced at the sky. “There are several trails to the top. There’s one where I’ve actually used rappelling equipment. But we don’t have enough time to go all the way to the top. We’ll have to do that another . . . .” He paused and then said, “Let’s go.”
He indicated a narrow trail that curve
d up a cliff, which she was thankful to see wasn’t too steep.
As she followed him, Billie wondered about his slip of the tongue – his second of the evening. Did he think there would be other times for them to do this kind of thing or was he trying to convince himself that there wouldn’t? He’d sounded upbeat and eager, though, so she hoped they could do this again.
They needed to clear the air between them, but she feared it might not work out the way she thought and hoped. And she didn’t want to ruin this evening.
The trail turned and twisted on itself until they came to an outcropping that overlooked the valley and the town of Lucky Break where it backed up against the Muleshoe Mountains. The entrances to abandoned mines, looking like black eyes peering out, pocked the faces of the cliffs. Fields and pastures spread out in front of the town and, in turn, were surrounded by desert. The setting sun cast rays across the valley, lengthening the shadows and filling Billie with a surge of melancholy.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “Wide open and free. I’ve lived my whole life in Phoenix, America’s fifth largest city. I had never seen wild places until my first photo shoot in Central America.”
“This can hardly be called wild. It’s just the desert.”
She grinned. “Tell that to someone who just got stung by a scorpion. It would seem pretty wild to them.”
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed in thought. “But not like Central America, or Borneo, or any of the other places you’ve been, or want to go.”
“Well . . . no.” She studied his face, trying to decipher what was going on in his mind.
“What’s the appeal, Billie?” He asked. “What’s out there that you can’t find here? Why put yourself in danger?”
Billie met his serious gaze, noted the line of concern that drew his brows together and tried to form an answer. “I’m not reckless, Cam. I’m not taking chances with my life. I know you probably think I’m a flake because I’ve had so many different jobs and, honestly, when I went to work for my Aunt Portia, I thought that photography would bore me but I loved it and when I arrived on my first wildlife shoot I was nothing but a ‘go fer’, running errands for everybody, handing out coffee and holding the extra camera lenses, but I still loved it. Something just clicked into place and I thought ‘Oh, yeah, this is what I’ve been looking for.’ I badgered the photographer to let me try some shots and they worked.” Billie stopped and pulled in a deep, ragged breath. “I’m good at this, Cam. It’s what I was meant to do. Exactly like you were meant to rescue your family’s ranch from ruin.”
Here To Stay (Welcome to Lucky Break, Arizona!) Page 13
