She dared not glance at him. Yesterday he’d put her on edge with his quick grin and smart remarks. Today he’d touched something in her and awakened a sudden, intense need to be held and cared for. How long had it been since she’d experienced that? The man who had shown her all the delights of a loving relationship had proved to be a cheat and a liar and she hadn’t risked losing her heart again. She hoped Cameron wouldn’t see her confusion and think her inept but he mistook her hesitancy for apprehension.
“We’ll take it nice and steady,” he assured her. “Most places we can ride side by side but where the trail narrows just let Jack tuck in behind me.”
Trisha nodded, not trusting herself to speak. This man made her think of sharing a warm bed on a cold night or sitting on a deck in quiet companionship. Beyond those mundane thoughts were naked limbs and hot, heavy sex. She blinked away the image and kept her eyes on Jack’s neck, on the grass, anywhere but on Cameron. She didn’t dare let him see her attraction to him. It wasn’t only his quiet words and apparent understanding, more the look and scent of him. The quiet confidence he wore like a birthright seemed to surround her too. As she relaxed, she started to look around and take in her surroundings.
They were riding along a wide green corridor between stands of trees. The breeze rustled the leaves on their branches and ahead of them the trail started to rise. Beyond the rise the peaks of the Rocky Mountains stood out sharp and clear against an azure blue sky.
Then Cameron halted and held a finger to his lips. She looked to where he pointed, delighted to see a small herd of deer.
“Whitetail,” he whispered. He nudged his horse on and Jack followed, striding out so smoothly that Trisha could have been sitting in a comfy chair.
“You’re doing well,” Cameron said after watching her for a moment. “How long is it since you rode a horse?”
She shrugged, pretending an indifference she didn’t feel. “A couple of years or thereabouts. Now I just take photos of them.”
“Why?”
His question caught her off guard. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again as she paused for thought, frowning as she did so. Why did she like taking photographs of horses so much? No one had ever asked her that question and she turned it over in her mind before giving an answer.
“Because I get satisfaction from capturing an image of their power and freedom,” she offered and fell silent as Cameron headed into the trees.
Just as he’d said, Jack tucked in and plodded along nose-to-tail behind the lead horse. The trail dropped down a steep incline and she instinctively leaned back, feeling the curve of the saddle cradling her behind and imagining it was Cameron’s hands.
There was no point wishing for what couldn’t be and she blinked the image away. Emerging from the cover of the trees into a mountain meadow, all thoughts fled from her mind at the sight that met her eyes and she couldn’t help but smile with pleasure at the view in front of her.
“Quite something isn’t it?” Cameron looked pleased. “It impresses most folks I bring up here.”
Cool, clean air as heady as champagne filled her lungs with every breath she took and she looked about her again. Cameron had dismounted and his horse was already tearing greedily at the long grass.
Following his example she swung out of the saddle, stepping down from the stirrup as easily if it had been a stair tread. “I really should have brought my camera.”
“Why didn’t you?” Cameron took a canteen out of his saddle bag and offered it to her.
“For once I decided to take a real day off.” She took the canteen, aware of his fingers folded around it, careful not to touch them even though she found she wanted that connection however meager.
She closed her eyes as she sipped the cool liquid. Relishing the sensation of it filling and refreshing her mouth, she swallowed it slowly before handing the canteen back. Cameron’s fingers brushed over hers, daring to do what she had not. Was that touch purely accidental or had he done it deliberately?
He tipped his head back and took a long pull on the canteen. Trisha watched the muscles in his throat working with each swallow. She tore her gaze away when he licked a drop of water from his lips and resisted an overwhelming desire to reach out and touch him.
“Come and sit down,” he invited. He walked a little way down the slope to where a long slab of rock jutted out from the hillside. Trisha joined him. The heat from the sun-warmed stone seeped through her jeans along with that from his body where his leg rested easily against hers.
She licked her lips, wanting to say something, not knowing what they could talk about, only aware that her body betrayed every resolve she had drilled into her mind. She wanted to touch him, to have him touch her. And after the touch ...? She pressed her lips together.
“So how long are you staying in Calgary?”
His quiet question made her jump and she quickly gathered her thoughts.
“Until the Wednesday after Stampede finishes,” she answered. “Then I go back to England to finish off my Horses in Sport assignment.”
“If you’re not so keen on riding, why would you even take an assignment like that?”
“It’s my job and I’m very good at it.” Trisha lay back and closed her eyes. Sunlight warmed her face, seeped into her skin allowing her fears and doubts to gradually slip away. For now, this moment, she didn’t want to think, only experience what it was to just be.
“What sports are you going to include?” His soft voice drifted into her ears.
“Thoroughbred racing, trotting horses, then the bucking broncs, chuck wagon teams and barrel racing horses at the Stampede. When I go home I’ll be spending some time with a good friend, Camille Langdon, to interview her about her horses. She’s the current European three-day event champion.”
Trisha didn’t add the fact that she had once been a contender for that title. That life, with all its marvellous highs and dreadful lows, now seemed so far away.
“Are you writing this for a magazine?”
“Yes, the Equine World annual edition which will come out early December in time for Christmas.”
Silence fell between them again and Cameron lay back on the rock beside her.
“I heard you’re doing double duty writing that article and judging Ms. Monroe’s competition.”
“I’m not judging anything,” Trisha corrected him. “I’ll just be helping sort through some photographs of male models she’s interested in signing up for the agency.”
“How’d you meet her?”
His voice came from deep in his chest and Trisha turned her head just enough for him to be in her line of sight. He’d tipped his hat over his eyes and the brim covered all but the curve of his jaw from his ear lobe to the point of his chin. Dark hair curled at the vee of his open shirt. Her fingers itched to pop a button and she wanted nothing more than to trail her fingertips over his bare body. Looking away, she sat up and curled her fingers into her palms to make her hands behave.
“At the Toronto Fashion Week a couple of years ago.” Trisha thought back to that day. “We quite literally bumped into each other. We both apologized at the same time, burst into laughter at such a silly situation and fell into an instant friendship. We worked together for the whole of fashion week and then a few more weeks after that. We’ve kept in touch ever since.”
Yanking a blade of grass out of the ground Trisha twisted it nervously in her fingers.
Well, that was brilliant. He should be all agog for her next astounding bit of conversation.
Cameron propped himself up on one elbow. “How did you go from photographing horses to fashion?”
“A British designer brought out a line of riding-inspired fashions and I got the assignment.” She’d also been asked to model but had declined that invitation and chose not to share that information now. She fell silent again and stared at the tree covered slopes around her.
“You don’t seem very comfortable with me,” Cameron mused.
With a
whoosh of breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding, Trisha dropped her chin on her chest. She wanted to get very comfortable with him but wouldn’t risk him guessing her runaway thoughts.
“I’m sorry, I’m being so rude.” She laughed ruefully. “I must still be tired from my flight.”
He nodded at that. “Guess that would do it. Plus the altitude takes a bit of adjusting to.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Altitude?”
“Sure. Calgary’s three thousand feet above sea level.” He shrugged. “Give or take a few feet and we’re higher still right here.”
He stood up and dusted his rear end, slapped his hat into place and then held his hand out. Trisha took it and he pulled her up. Once they were mounted again he headed down the slope. Trisha could barely see a path yet Cameron’s horse picked its way easily. She looked out over the rise and fall of the surrounding terrain. No sign of a road anywhere, only tree-covered slopes and below them a valley of wind ruffled grass.
“So how much of this land belongs to you and what do you do with it?” She swayed comfortably in the saddle as Jack navigated the narrow trail.
“I’ve got two hundred acres, most of it to grow hay for the horses I raise and train. I hold one training clinic a month at my place through the summer, as well as at horse shows and rodeos.” Cameron glanced over his shoulder at her. “Come winter I’ll board some extra horses and the barn’s often full then. My horses are raised to work, but we use them for sport too. Without them we wouldn’t be steer wrestling. I know a few bronc riders, chuck wagon drivers and barrel racers too. Let me know if you need any introductions.”
They reached the bottom of the slope and came to a shallow creek. Cameron’s horse waded in without any hesitation, followed by Jack. As they came up the bank on the far side both horses stopped, heads up, ears pricked. Their breath huffed out of their distended nostrils and they shuffled their feet, bumping nervously into each other.
“Uh-oh,” Cameron drew his rifle from its scabbard. “Something’s up. Stay behind me.”
The unmistakable metallic snick of a round being chambered turned Trisha’s veins to ice. The horses continued to snort and move restlessly, both spooked by something only they could sense. She looked up and down the creek.
“What is it?” Fear made her voice quake.
Cameron scanned the trees before pointing to a branch just above head height several feet away.
“Cougar,” he said.
A tawny body stretched along the length of a branch. Its deep growl became a hissing snarl and escalated in volume to a bone-chilling screech. Long canines and a pink tongue showed against a white, bewhiskered face.
“Damn cat.” Sunlight glinted off the long, sleek barrel as Cameron lifted the rifle, took aim at the branch above the cougar’s head and fired.
The sharp crack of the shot crashed into Trisha’s ear drums. Acrid smoke filled her nostrils. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead and familiar shakes took hold of her body. She barely noticed the lithe form bounding away from them. Her head spun and her stomach clenched. Her lungs burned, cutting off her breath.
Drawn into a vortex of confusion, she spiralled down into that place she didn’t want to be, a place of chaos and pain ending in complete and utter darkness.
Chapter Four
Cameron slid the rifle back into the scabbard, swung off his horse and caught Trisha’s limp body as she slumped in the saddle. Easing her to the ground, he cradled her in his arms. He’d so badly wanted to hold her, but not like this. Not with her out cold and unresponsive.
Taking off her hat he smoothed her hair back from her white face, frowning as his fingers ran over a narrow ridge of pink, puckered scar tissue on her hairline. It ran from the centre of her forehead to just above her right ear.
He frowned as he tried to imagine what may have caused it. She must have suffered some major event to make her to faint like this. The cougar, the sound of the rifle discharging, the scuffling of the frightened horses could have scared her into thinking she might be injured again.
He rocked her to and fro, rubbing the backs of his fingers over her cheeks until her color returned and her eyelids fluttered.
“Don’t be in a hurry to move,” he said quietly as she opened her eyes. “You’ve had a shock, but you’re fine. We’re all fine.”
She blinked at him as if trying to remember where she was then looked around. Jack and Anchorman grazed nearby, a sure sign that the danger, at least for now, had passed. She groaned as she sat up and held her head.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
She sniffed and he hoped she wasn’t going to cry. He was no good at dealing with tears. He pulled her against his chest and without thinking dropped a kiss on top of her head. The contact of his lips on the softness of her hair resulted in her stiffening in his arms and he reluctantly let her go.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” He wasn’t sure if it she was frightened of him or the cougar.
She scrubbed her hand across her face to brush away the moisture forming on her lower lashes. “Did you kill it?”
“Nope, scared it off is all.”
“Well,” She scrambled awkwardly to her feet. “I wanted a wild-west experience, I guess I got it.”
“That’s a good way to look at it.” Cameron picked up her hat and handed it to her, but she swayed as she took it. “Here, you’d best sit down again.”
He caught her by the arms and steadied her as she sank into the grass and put her head between her knees. Cameron pulled off his bandana, soaked it in the creek and wrung it out before placing the cool wadded cloth on the back of her neck. She flinched, but held it in place while he fetched the canteen then sat down beside her and handed it to her.
Trisha took a deep pull on it and licked the moisture off her lips before screwing the cap back on. He nearly choked at the sight of that little pink tongue at the corner of her mouth. Was it as sweet as it looked? He turned away before the temptation to find out made him pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Last thing she needed after so severe a shock was to know the effect she had on him.
“Thank you for being so understanding.”
The quaver in her voice cut him to the core. “Think nothing of it. While you’re with me, that’s my job. Are you ready to go now?”
A tremulous smile wavered on her lips and she nodded. Cameron helped her mount Jack, his pulse racing, his mind reeling. She’d been petrified but now tried to put on a brave face. Why? Most girls he knew would either have been screaming and running away as fast as they could, or shooting right along side of him. Yet Trisha seemed to be drawing on every nerve she possessed to play the whole incident down.
He swung up into Anchorman’s saddle and headed the horse towards home.
“Does something like that often happen?” Trisha moved Jack alongside him.
“No, but it doesn’t hurt to know what’s out there.” Cameron sensed she was still shaken and saved telling her about bears and bull elk for another day. If there was one. He almost sighed with disappointment when they halted outside his barn. He didn’t want this day to be over.
Trisha watched him as he stripped the saddles off the horses.
“They’re cool enough that we can turn them out right away,” he said and handed her both sets of reins.
She seemed quite comfortable as she led the horses to the corral. He opened the gate for her and showed her how to slip the bridles off, although he had a sense she knew what to do. Both horses sank to their knees and stretched out to roll their sweaty backs in the dirt, then scrambled to their feet and shook off the dust.
Trisha chuckled as she watched them wander away and begin grazing. “So much for their after work shower.”
Cameron agreed and smiled at her, relieved that she appeared to have recovered herself. As they walked towards the house he noticed a strained look on her face and her tight little steps.
“Let me guess,” he said as they reached
the veranda steps. “Bathroom break?”
She nodded with apparent relief.
“The door at the end of the veranda is to my bedroom. Go in there and the bathroom’s at the back on your right.”
Trisha followed his directions and almost stopped on the threshold at the sight of his king sized four poster bed. As she got closer to it she could see intricate carvings of animals and trees on the posts. Without thinking she reached up to touch the post nearest to her.
Her fingertips traced the outline of a deer’s antlers, then a tree trunk with roughened surface to emulate bark with its knots and swirls and little ridges. She curled her whole hand around the post and the fine edges of the design pressed into her palm. Her spread fingers read the rest of the patterns but then she connected with a hard, satiny smooth surface.
The image that came into her mind brought heat to her face and tightness to her lungs. Would Cameron be this hard, this smooth, if she had her fingers curled around him? Would he close his eyes or watch her? Would he like it if she closed her hand and tightened her grip? She stepped back as if she’d been scalded and hurried into the bathroom.
Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she grimaced. Tear tracks plowed furrows down her dusty cheeks. She put her hand up to cover the place where Cameron had touched her as if to capture his caress. Even in her state of shock his gentleness had touched her heart and jolted her back to full consciousness.
She closed her eyes in an effort to recall the worried expression in Cameron’s eyes but older images flickered across the inside of her lids. Blue sky. Crowds of people. The tree-trunk. A grunt of effort from the horse beneath her. Her counselor’s voice echoed in her head. Breathe in slowly. Take the breath deep into your lungs. Let your thoughts go on an exhale. Watch them riding your breath out of your body until your mind is clear. Breathe in a long, deep fresh breath and imagine your perfect place where you are safe and happy.
Did she even deserve to have that? The face she showed the world told one thing, her demons told her another.
Loving That Cowboy Page 4
