Chase the Clouds

by Lindsay McKenna

  A white hot streak of panic made her suddenly stiffen. Was she in love with Sam Reese? Could love make her feel like this? Conflicting emotions raged across her widening azure eyes.

  “Dany?” he asked unsteadily. His eyes spoke of a man who also could not endure an unbalanced relationship. He caressed her cheek, tenderly touching her lips. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to upset you. I damn near couldn’t stop myself…. You drive a man to the edge of desire.…”

  Nine

  For the next two days, although Dany was avoiding Sam, she felt that they were on a collision course, and it had forced her to reevaluate her life. For the first time in four years, there was a feeling of order in her life, despite the explosive chemistry between her and Sam.

  On the morning of the third day, Sam gently shook her awake. “Wake up, sleepy head. We’ve got a special project ahead of us today. Come on, the coffee’s on,” he urged softly.

  Perplexed and half-asleep, Dany obeyed, stumbling out of the sleeping bag. Dawn was barely edging the darkened horizon, a pastel ribbon of pink dimly outlined the craggy cliffs that surrounded them. A bird cawed somewhere in the rugged mountains, the echo continuing down the long, narrow valley. Dany tucked stray strands of hair behind her ears, shoved on her boots and joined Sam at the small fire.

  “Why are we up so early?” she mumbled, accepting a mug of coffee from him.

  Sam pushed the hat back on his head and pointed toward two large peaks that sat east of the camp. “We’re going to scout ahead today. There’s a narrow pass about half a day’s ride from here that needs to be checked. Sometimes, because of blizzards and heavy snowfall, the river is too high for the cattle to swim. If that has happened, we have to use the alternative route up to the high pastures.” He looked at her. “Want to go along?”

  She pursed her lips, noting the twinkle in his gray eyes. A grin tugged at her mouth. “Sure. Why not?”

  He sobered. “It will give us some time to talk, Dany. I think we owe it to one another.” He came over, standing very close to her, stroking her blue black hair. “If you don’t feel ready for this, you can back out. I’ll understand.”

  There was uncertainty in his voice and it amazed her. Sam Reese had always seemed so sure of himself, but now she saw the vulnerability in his eyes. Her heart throbbed in her chest. “No…no, I want to go,” she whispered.

  The camp was barely stirring to life as they rode out at a slow trot toward the last threshold before the pastures. The snow had melted completely, and the ground had dried up, making the footing excellent. Dany stole a glance over at Sam as they rode in silence. What was on his mind? The last two days, he seemed to be brooding about something. Her instincts told her it was about their budding relationship. She no longer tried to deny her own feelings for him: She loved him. And it was a kind of love that she had never experienced. He made her happy by just being there. It wasn’t just a physical desire or attraction. It was a blending of his masculinity and her femininity on so many complementary levels.

  The sun was peeking over the rim of the mountains when they set out, covering mile after mile at an easy pace. At one point, they halted and Dany tied her coat behind the saddle. She smiled over at Sam, and he nodded, his eyes smiling in return.

  At noon, they stopped and unpacked the lunch Juan had made the night before. The chicken sandwich and crisp apples tasted delicious, washed down afterward by cold spring water. Sam had gotten up and loosened the cinches on both horses and then sat down on a rock beside her. He stretched his frame against the sun-heated boulder and touched her hair in silence, running the silken strands thoughtfully through his fingers. “You have the most beautiful hair,” he murmured. “When I first met you, I thought you were a prim, strict school-teacher type.”

  She turned her eyes gravely to him. “And now, Sam?”

  He smiled distantly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “You’re like a multifaceted diamond. So many different, interesting sides,” he teased.

  Dany laughed softly. “If that’s a compliment, I’ll take it.”

  His hand rested on her golden-tanned forearm. “What did Jean think you were, honey?”

  Her stomach knotted, her heart twisting in pain. “A trainer for his horses,” she admitted finally.

  “A wife? Lover? Housekeeper? What else?” he pressed.

  Dany leaned back against the rock, closing her eyes. She was content with his nearness. “Sometimes housekeeper, always the teacher and, occasionally, his wife.”

  “Did you really love him?”

  Dany cleared her throat. “At the time I thought I did. But distance has taken care of that perspective, Sam. What can I say? He was dashing, elegant and handsome. Hundreds of women were green with jealousy when we got engaged. I thought he loved me.…”

  Sam’s fingers tightened momentarily on her arm, as if to take away the pain reflected in her voice. “In his own selfish way, he probably did.”

  She managed a cutting grimace. “It was his international playboy image and his knack at spending our hard-earned money that caused our divorce.”

  “So you put Richland on the market to pay the debts?”

  The lump grew in her throat, and she barely rasped out, “Yes.”

  “So a homestead means a great deal to you, despite the amount of traveling you did on the East Coast?”

  Dany pushed off the rock, standing above him. The wind playfully lifted strands of her hair around her shoulders. “Home means a great deal to everyone, Sam.”

  He barely opened his eyes, watching her. “I’m just interested in what it means to you, Dany. Not many people would sell off half their dream.”

  Her face contorted. “I didn’t have a choice! And it has been ground into me that dreams don’t come true. Or, if they do, they evaporate very quickly.” She turned her back on him, walking back over to the horses. Dreams, Jean had said, were the paradise of fools. The only thing that counted was the here and now. One couldn’t dream of being a Grand Prix winner. It had to be proved each time they rode. Dany pulled on the cinch, tightening it. The shadow of Sam’s tall figure blocked out the sun, and he took the leather strap from her trembling fingers and finished looping it through, bringing the stirrup down. Resting his arm on the saddle, he looked down at her.

  “There’s nothing wrong with dreaming, Dany,” he began huskily. “Ever since I was a young kid, I had dreams. Most of them have come true. Some of them have been shattered. But that doesn’t stop me from trying again.”

  Her eyes were wide, filled with anguish as she met his gaze. “Dreams are for people who can afford them.”

  He smiled lazily. “Come on, let’s mount up. We’ll talk more on this as we ride,” he urged.

  They rode at a steady trot, their legs occasionally touching as they continued up the incline toward the pass. Dany finally broke the silence. “Which one of your dreams was destroyed, Sam?”

  “My marriage,” he admitted.

  “What happened?”

  “I had it in my head that one marriage in a lifetime was plenty.” He grinned. “Of course, in today’s market, more people are getting divorced than staying married. Cynthia and I are one of those statistics.”

  “Why did it happen?” Dany asked, surprised at her own need to know. Ordinarily she would never be so bold or brash to ask such a personal question. But Sam seemed to be inviting her to explore other nuances of himself.

  “It was a merger of two large corporations,” he admitted. “Looking back on it, I should have known better. But then, at twenty-three, I was still wet behind the ears. Especially to the ways and wiles of women. I saw Cyn at a party in San Francisco and fell hopelessly and romantically in love with her. She was a dream come true for me, so I thought. She had beauty, flawless elegance and sophistication.” A twinkle remained in his eyes. “She also had an appetite for rich men who could give her the baubles that went along with the territory.”

  “So, you married her?”

  “Yes. Yo
u see, that’s where I discovered the difference between romantic love and real love. After about a year, the passion began to fade and she grew tired of me and the ranch. She wanted to stay in San Francisco and I wanted to live in the Sierras. Neither of us made much of an effort to compromise our positions. We ended up being married five years and living apart three of them. Finally, she met another very rich gentleman and asked for a divorce. I gave it to her. Now she’s remarried and is happily basking in the light of San Francisco society.”

  “You sound so flip about the whole episode,” Dany accused.

  “At the time, I was anything but flip. I was hurting just like you are. I did a lot of soul-searching and asked myself a lot of questions, although I never allowed Cyn to destroy a part of me—like Jean has destroyed your confidence in your abilities as a rider. You either let that hurt, anger and distrust go or carry Jean and the past around with you every day.”

  She grimaced. “Ouch. Easier said than done,” she returned dejectedly.

  He pulled Altair down to a walk, giving the horses a deserved rest. “I think you were lonely, Dany, when you met Jean. People marry for that reason. And, it’s not wrong to do it. But I think you’ve spent most of your adult life around animals and not people. He knew you were naive and manipulated the circumstances to his own best advantage. After all, marrying the best Grand Prix trainer in the U.S. was a shrewd move on his part. The loser in the game was you.”

  She could barely hold his gaze. “You’re so damn perceptive,” she rasped. “Why weren’t you around when I needed a sounding board to try and figure that out myself? You’re right: I spent too much time around horses and let the rest of the world slip through my fingers.”

  Sam wrapped the reins around the horn and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. The wind had picked up significantly as they entered the rocky terrain of the pass, but the sun was hot. “Horses don’t divorce you,” he said wryly.

  She laughed. It was true. Animals had never tried to trick or deceive her. Not like their human counterparts. “Somehow, I don’t think a horse can give me the emotional support I’m looking for,” she said.

  Sam raised his eyes upward. “Thank God,” he murmured.

  Dany joined his rich laughter. Suddenly, she felt more at ease than ever before. The walls of the rocky pass rose on either side of them as they moved down the dusty trail. The clip-clop of hoofs striking the hardened earth echoed through the expanse. The sky was a bright, cerulean blue, and the sun struck the planes of yellow ochre stone, lending it a golden radiance. The silent camaraderie between them grew, and Dany traded a smile with him from time to time.

  They rode another two miles before she picked up the sound of water in the distance. As they came around another curve the sparkling expanse of a wide river met her curious gaze. Dany dismounted, marveling at the wild, inherent beauty of the river. A waterfall roared a half a mile away, water spilling over the lip of the gorge above them. The river frothed and foamed, indicating strong currents at work beneath its sparkling surface. Sam dismounted, hanging his hat on the saddle horn. He hobbled both horses and unsaddled them. Dany slipped the bridles off their heads so that they could eat a well-earned lunch on the lush grass.

  “This is incredibly beautiful,” she said, awe in her tone.

  “I love coming here,” he murmured. He walked upstream, gauging the river with narrowed eyes.

  Dany knelt down, splashing water on her face, the coolness refreshing to her hot, perspiring body. She glanced up at him, a grin on her mouth. “What I’d give for a bath! This is perfect. Look at that sandbar. There’s a small inlet that’s sure to be warmer than the river.”

  Sam turned. “Go ahead. Take one.”

  She got to her feet, wiping her hands on her jeans. “You mean it?”

  “Sure. I’m going to walk about half a mile downstream on foot and check the crossing point. We’ll give the horses a breather and let them eat while I’m gone.” He grinned recklessly. “Although, it would be far more enjoyable to stay and scrub your back.”

  Dany colored, pulling the sleeping bag off the saddle and hunting for her towel and soap. “I’ll make a point of hurrying then,” she retorted.

  Sam picked up his hat. “Take your time, honey. I’ll be back in about forty minutes. Just watch for snakes. There’s water moccasins up here, you know.”

  Dany groaned, distressed. “Sam! You just ruined my enthusiasm.”

  “Sorry. But you always have to be careful out in the wilds, Dany. I’ll be back in a while.”

  By the time she had finished searching for snakes, Sam had disappeared around the curve of the river bank. Dany smiled eagerly as she undressed and placed the clothes on a nearby rock. The sun struck her skin, warming her deliciously. Sitting on the bank, she slid her toe into the inviting inlet. It was cool, but not icy. Well, she decided firmly, a few minutes of discomfort are better than staying dirty. She gasped as the blue green water closed about her as she dog-paddled to the sand beach until she stood in knee deep water. Soaping her body quickly, Dany scrubbed her skin until it glowed a healthy pink. Taking a quick dip, she rinsed off. Then, holding her breath, she dove under, wetting her black hair. Again, she scrubbed furiously. The breeze on her wet skin made goose pimples rise on her flesh. She rinsed her hair and took one last dip, swimming for the shore.

  Scrambling out, she struggled back into the clothes. Almost immediately, she felt better. Looking down toward the curve, she didn’t see Sam returning yet. Taking advantage of the time, she lay on the fragrant grass, closing her eyes and allowing the heat of the sun to lull her to sleep.

  She was startled awake by Altair’s challenging scream. The red stallion reared high into the air, his hoofs pawing the air directly above her. His nostrils were flared, and the white of his eyes could be seen. A cry lodged in her throat, and Dany threw up her arm to protect her face as the stallion came down. The earth shook heavily where he landed. The stallion pawed the ground squealing savagely. She rolled away, shakily getting to her feet.

  “Dany!” Sam thundered, running toward her.

  Dany twisted around, confused. His face was contorted with concern as he reached out for her. His fingers bit deeply into her flesh as he nearly jerked her off her feet. She fell heavily against him as he dragged her away from the angry stallion.

  Black hair swirled around her face, and she shakily pushed it away in order to see. “What happened?” she cried.

  “It must be a snake,” he rasped. He thrust her aside. “Stay here,” he ordered.

  Dany watched wide-eyed as Sam went forward. Altair had stopped pawing and stood quivering. Sam crooned to him, moving up to where the stallion remained frozen. He took him by the halter, releasing the hobbles and leading him away from the area. After tying him to a low-hanging tree limb, Sam returned to her side.

  “Want to see what got him so upset?”

  She nodded, suddenly grateful for his arm about her waist. The area where she had fallen asleep was completely harrowed. The grass had been torn up in clumps by Altair’s striking hoofs. And there, in the middle of the furrowed area lay the remains of a snake. Dany took a step back, gasping.

  “Oh, God, Sam,” she whispered tightly. “I fell asleep. He—” She glanced over at the red stallion. “Altair must have seen the snake coming toward me.…” She shivered, burying herself within his arms. “I could have been killed,” she breathed.

  Sam caressed her head, holding her tightly. “Yes. If the snake hadn’t bit you, Altair might have struck you by mistake. He has a long history of hating snakes and will go to any length to kill one,” he muttered grimly. “You all right, honey? God, you’re shaking like a leaf. Here, let me take a look at you.”

  She stood trembling within the shelter of his arms as the full impact of what might have happened crashed down on her. “W-was it a poisonous snake?” she chattered.

  “Yes, looks like a copperhead. Probably came down to the river looking for rodents taking a drink of water this time of
day. Well, you look okay. A few grass stains on your elbow here, but otherwise, all right. How do you feel? You look pale.”

  Her legs were suddenly turning to jelly, and she reached out, gripping Sam’s arm. “I—I don’t feel very well, Sam.…”

  In the next instant, he had scooped her up into his arms as if she were a mere feather. Gratefully, she rested her head against his shoulder, shutting her eyes tightly. His arms were protective and strong around her body as she slid her hands around his neck, seeking his closeness. The enormity of the events shook her deeply. She could have been bitten. She could have died! Oh, God, she didn’t want to die! Not now. Not realizing how much she loved Sam! A sob tore from her lips, and she clung tightly to Sam.

  “Shhhh,” he whispered, gently depositing her beneath a pine tree. “Everything is all right, Dany.” He placed a kiss on her head, awkwardly brushing away the tears rolling down her cheeks. He knelt at her side, bringing her against his sun-warmed body and crooning wordless endearments. Dany sighed softly, feeling his heart thundering against her breasts. It seemed natural as he raised her chin, his mouth claiming her wet, salty lips with quivering tenderness, tasting them. The pressure increased as she parted her lips, allowing his exploring tongue deep into the moist depths of her mouth. A soft moan of need vibrated in her throat, and she pressed her body against him instinctively. Sam groaned, gripping her shoulder. He pulled her away, his eyes blazing with barely constrained desire.

  “I want you,” he whispered thickly. “God, how I need you, Dany.…”

  The brush with death had torn any remnants of her uncertainty and distrust away. Shyly, she reached up, caressing his weather-hardened cheek. “Love me,” she sighed, “please…Sam, love me…” He kissed her tear-wet lashes, cheeks and lips in answer. With maddening slowness, he stripped the clothes from his powerfully built body. Dany reveled in the broad planes of his muscular chest, the chiseled flatness of his stomach and his long, athletic thighs. His skin was a soft golden color, his muscles rippling with breathtaking movement as he slid down beside her, his mouth capturing her lips, pulling her fiercely against him. His fingers expertly worked the buttons free, slipping the blouse off her shoulders. She trembled as he trailed a series of fiery kisses the length of her neck to the valley between her breasts. Each touch quickened her awakening desires. Her skin tightened beneath each grazing caress of his feather-light touch. His mouth teased the flesh of her taut breasts, and she gasped, arching beneath him.