Rugged and Restless

by Saylor Bliss

  I laughed. “It’s hard to fight with a man when he’s quoting Shakespeare.”

  “That would be the point of doing it.” He laughed softly. “It doesn’t matter what you look like on the outside, Angel. I think you’re beautiful.”

  I had no idea how to respond.

  “Angel?” His voice was just a bit louder than a whisper. “I was serious about getting married. We don’t have to do it in Vegas. You can carry white daisies when you walk down the aisle to me.”

  “I know you were serious,” I said. “I was mulling it over.”

  He chuckled. “And?”

  “Yes, Mick. I’d love to marry you.” I closed my eyes against the pain of knowing that day would never come.

  Travis

  I shift to get a better view of Christine while she sleeps. A week ago I hadn’t even known her. Now I couldn’t imagine not being with her. In sleep, her vulnerability touches me even more deeply than her sensual playfulness when she is awake. I’m at a loss to explain my reaction. I’d never expected to feel so strongly again.

  “Travis,” she murmurs as she stirs. Sitting up, she throws back her head and raises her arms, stretching like a cat in the sun. The movement thrust her breasts against the soft, thin fabric of her tank top. Her body invites my touch, but I sit still, drinking in the sight and allow my hunger for her to spiral upward. Lowering her arms, she catches my eye and smiles.

  “I know who I’m with, Travis. I’ve been alone in every sense of the word for a while now. It’s always going to hurt when I wonder about the might-have-beens. But I’m here with you right now because I want to be with Travis McGee, not because I’m looking to replace someone I can’t have.”

  She bent to lay a tender kiss against my throat, lingered there for a breath, then moved along my neck to my chin and then on to my mouth. Her lips tempted; mine cried out for more. Hers teased; mine sought and found. My hand rested against her just above her left breast. Her heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings beneath my fingertips.

  The guttural, bawling scream that broke the silence was not of the earth. Emanating from the thick woods, it echoed unnervingly across the once tranquil clearing. Christine leapt away from me, her eyes wide with alarm.

  “What the hell is that?”

  I was already on my feet, grabbing the Winchester from my saddle holster and sprinting toward the sound. “Calf in trouble! Stay here!” I shout over my shoulder before I push into the woods.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Christine

  Paralyzed with fear for several heartbeats, I finally unstick my feet from the ground and follow Travis. The brush was thick. It clawed at me, leaving painful lacerations along my arms and back as I struggled to get through. It grabbed my hair and wouldn’t let go. I twisted and freed myself from the painful grasp of a thorny bush. Where was he? Where was Travis? Which way had he gone?

  I forced myself to stop and listen. The bellow rang out again, followed by thrashing in the undergrowth to my left. Slowing my rapid gasps for air, I calmed myself enough to see the trail of broken branches. The bushes directly in front of me parted and Travis stepped through. I sprang backward, swallowing my cry of alarm. He had a fair-sized calf cradled in his arms.

  “Take her back to the clearing,” he ordered in a brusque tone as he shoved the calf at me. Without a second thought, I took the calf into my arms. He was stern, all business. Nothing at all like the mellow, sometimes playful man of earlier. The calf’s weight was much less than I expected, and I overcompensated, stumbling into a thorny shrub.

  “Trav, what is it?”

  He caught my arm and steadied me, then shot me a pointed look. “Just do it,” he barked. “And don’t leave the clearing. Don’t follow me under any circumstance.”

  Then he was gone, swallowed again by the thick brush. His words and attitude shot terror right through me as I fought the tangled underbrush and made my way back to the clearing. The squirming calf bellowed frantically in my ear.

  “Shush, baby. Shhh…” I set the calf down on the blanket where we had shared our picnic, and dropped to my knees. Rubbing between the little one’s huge brown eyes seemed to calm her, and the bawling quieted. If only I could still the trembling assaulting my own muscles. Unable to do anything else, I sat staring at the bushes, awaiting Travis’s return. The sound of a nearby rifle report tore through me, as though the bullet had physically ripped into my flesh. I was halfway across the clearing before I realized I’d jumped up. But Travis had been explicit with his instructions not to follow him for any reason. I sank to the ground again, making no effort to stem the tears cascading down my cheeks.

  “How badly are you pinned?” I asked when Mick checked in. “Is there any possibility of working yourself out some?”

  “Not a chance,” Mick told me easily. I could almost picture a grin. “Got a cement beam across my legs and a chunk of something across part of my chest. Pretty sure at least one of my legs is broke. Feels like a couple of ribs bought it, too. Kind of hard to catch my breath. I can hear my partner breathing but he’s not answering. Don’t know how bad off he is. It’s hard to just lie here, Angel.”

  Mick’s labored gasps tore at my heart. “I know it is. I wish I could be there to help you.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, you’re helping from where you are. Nothing you could do here.”

  “I could hold your hand, at least.”

  “You know, Angel, it kind of feels like you already are holding my hand. It’s real nice knowing someone’s out there who cares. I’m glad you’re on the other end of the line.”

  “I’m glad, too,” I said truthfully. “I’m not letting you go, Mick.”

  Travis

  I surveyed the scene, struggling for objectivity. The cow was a mess. Once, her hide had been a honeyed tan, but it was now caked with layers of blood which had run freely from a wound on her flank. The trampled, blood-stained grass told the story. She hadn’t gone down easily, but finally had lost so much blood she couldn’t stay on her feet.

  I looked from the flank wound up to the animal’s head, into which I’d just put a Power-Point from my Winchester. It was the only comfort I’d been able to provide. A muscle worked in my clenched jaw. I might have fired the kill shot, but I hadn’t been the one to bring about the cow’s death. It still hurt to my core.

  I estimated she’d been shot within the past twenty-four hours. I supposed it was possible she’d been mistaken for an antelope or an elk, but since it wasn’t hunting season, that meant someone was possibly poaching. Based on the absence of the Hawk MC herd from prime grazing land, though, my gut told me I’d stumbled onto a very different picture.

  Screw Grant for keeping critical information from me. Little brother, you owe me answers, and you will give them.

  With my teeth clamped against emotional pain, I crouched next to the carcass and pulled a folding knife from my pocket. The blade was short but sharp and it was all I had, so it would have to do. Knowing of only one way to recover the slug in her flank, I began methodically slicing into the cow’s flesh.

  Christine

  I heard him fighting his way through the thick brush. When he emerged, he carried his shirt bunched up in one hand. His eyes met mines, and my tension drained. He was okay. His long strides carried him directly to the cold mountain creek, where he tossed his shirt onto the bank next to the fast-running water.

  My eyes skimmed over him. His hands were coated with sticky-looking crimson. Streaks of red stained his abdomen, and another smear ran across one cheek.

  With my heart lodged in my throat, I rushed toward him. “That’s blood! Where are you hurt?”

  “I’m okay,” he assured quickly, but he held up a hand to stop my approach. “It’s cow’s blood.”

  I slowed my steps but didn’t stop. “What happened?”

  Travis presented a façade of calm, stooping to bathe his arms and chest in the icy water. But his hands shook when he grabbed his shirt from the bank and used it to scrub at his
skin. “She was badly injured. There was nothing I could do. I had to put her down.”

  Understanding dawned quickly, and I closed my eyes. “The gunshot.” He nodded.

  “She’d lost too much blood. There was nothing I could do,” he repeated dully.

  I laid a hand on his bare shoulder, squeezed lightly, and then crouched next to him to study his face. I dipped my hand in the creek and used my thumb to scrub away the line of blood along his cheek.

  Travis closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. “Aw, Christine. It’s been so long since—” A spasm of pain contorted his features. “Thank you.”

  I pushed my hand around the side of his head and grazed my thumb over his ear. “Hey,” I whispered. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  He gave a start, and his eyes brightened with emotion as he pulled me up with him. His arms settled around me and he held me tightly, burying his face in my hair. His breath was warm on my neck. My arms stole around his waist and I hung on, rubbing my cheek against his chest. A long time later, his shaking slowed and he leaned back, peering down at me. I gazed back, drawing on experience to force a calm I was far from feeling.

  “There’s a lot I want to say to you, Bluebell.” He shook his head. I was pretty sure I had the same things to say back. It seemed we were both going to complicate things after all. I kept my hands on him, unable to sever contact.

  “I know stuff like this happens, but it’s hard to think about.” Gesturing toward the calf, I asked, “Will she be all right?”

  Relief eased its way into his features, and he gave a quick nod. “Probably. She’s hungry but still strong. Grant’ll have provisions for orphans, so I’ll carry her back to the ranch.”

  “What would have happened to her if we weren’t here?”

  “If she was lucky, predators would have gotten her. If not, she would have starved to death.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone that didn’t match the tension in his body. I shuddered; neither scenario was appealing. Travis took up the shirt and made a face. Dirt and blood had ruined it.

  “Grant’s gonna be pissed about this.” A piece of puzzle fell into place, bringing a grin to my mouth.

  “That’s Grant’s shirt?” He angled a gaze in my direction and answered my grin.

  “You were right about the color blue. It’s all I tend to buy. I figured it’d be prudent to wear a bright color out here so I raided his closet.”

  I stared down at the garment and wrinkled my nose. “You’d think the red would have hidden the blood a little better.” With a sigh, Travis tossed the shirt in the creek and swished it around. Then he used it to clean the dirt and blood from the orphaned calf.

  “It’s okay, little one, you’re safe now.” He ran gentle hands over the baby’s brown-and-white hide, checking for injuries. Under his soothing touch, the calf drifted to sleep.

  I picked up my camera. As I watched Travis from behind the lens, I realized the calf was not merely meat on the hoof for him. He hadn’t saved the baby as part of some plan to salvage the ranch’s profit margin. She mattered to him, on an intensely personal, very human level. And killing the cow, no matter how merciful, hadn’t come easy to him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Travis

  Checking the cinch on Christine’s saddle, I froze when her arms slid around me from behind. She laid her cheek against my back, her breath spreading little feathery sensations of warmth across my bare skin. I closed my eyes, enjoying the contact. Splayed across my abdomen, her hands were warmer than the sunshine.

  Beneath her tender caress, emotions I couldn’t name, erupted like a long-dormant volcano. I looked at my hands, still resting against the saddle, and realized I was trembling with the force of the feelings sliding through my system.

  “Since Grant’s shirt is trashed…” she murmured.

  That honey-smooth voice never failed to capture my attention, but at this moment, it was coursing through my heart.

  When she drew back, the mountain breeze chilled my flesh. She slid something over my arms and onto my shoulders. I looked down and recognized the man’s shirt she had been wearing earlier.

  “It’s going to be a bit small on you but it’s better to be covered.” Christine’s essence embraced me, as I shrugged my shoulders the rest of the way into her shirt. Her warmth lingered and her scent clung to the pale cotton, rising up to tantalize, drawing me in.

  It was a simple move, turning into her arms, but it felt somehow complicated, like another lock opening —or another one closing. I pressed one simple, soft kiss to her lips then stepped back. Rolling my shoulders, I tested the fit of the shirt. It caught a bit across my back, but if left unbuttoned it would suffice. Smelling her for the whole ride back, though, was going to be a test of will.

  “Thanks.” Mischief demanded outlet. “Should I be wondering why you have men’s clothing in your closet?”

  Blue eyes twinkled. “Jealous?”

  I flexed my muscles against the confines of the shirt. The seams strained beneath my broad shoulders. I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

  She laughed. Man, how I loved that sweet sexy laugh.

  “Relax, cowboy, you’ve got everything I want.” Resting her hands on my hips, she leaned in and gave me a swift kiss. Everywhere she touched felt like a hot iron branding me. “I’m all yours,” she said against my lips. “I got into liking big shirts during my men’s-shirt-short-skirt nightclubbing days.”

  I inhaled sharply at the picture her words conjured. My fingers tightened reflexively on her shoulders.

  “Sometimes I wear one when I ride instead of a jacket.” Reaching past my shoulder, she removed a pink T-shirt from one of the saddle bags and pulled it over her head. “There. Now I’m covered, too.” She winked.

  My lips twitched. I was so gone over this woman, liking the way she was almost innocent and vulnerable one moment and sensually playful the next. I’d been pleasantly off balance around her since our first meeting.

  My gaze landed on the calf. “Christine, things got a little crazy. This isn’t how I pictured our day together.” I’d hoped for a slow, sensuous romantic interlude with a mutually pleasant end later in the evening.

  She responded with a sexy chuckle that hit right below the belt. “You do know how to show a gal a good time.” And then she lifted one exquisite shoulder and let it fall. “The days won’t all be crazy. If things were too mundane, we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves. And I’m sorry about the cow. But Travis, about the rest of the day…” Her sweet smile completed the picture of perfection. “I wouldn’t change anything.”

  With a groan of regret for all the moments lost that day, I ran my hand along the back of her head and steered her toward my lips for a tender kiss. “We have to get back. Will you save some time for me tomorrow evening?”

  I boosted her into the saddle, resting my hand on her leg. When she looked at me, she wore a sweet smile. “Will you wear your black hat?”

  The sun barely held on in the sky by the time we reached the ranch. Laser beams of crimson shot out from behind silvery-gray clouds edged in gleaming gold. The plains around them glowed red, reminding me of the first night I had seen Christine.

  I slipped out the radio and checked the frequency.

  “Where did that come from?” She asked.

  “We carry them when we go out on the range. In case of emergency. ” I frowned. “Grant never gave you one?”

  In the dimming light, I almost didn’t catch her silent headshake.

  As we closed in on the ranch, the radio finally registered a signal. I called Grant to alert him about the calf. My brother met us in the yard with Gus Hanson, the Hawk MC foreman. He was a grizzled troll of a man, who had been on the ranch since my granddad’s days. I gratefully slid the calf into the old man’s waiting arms.

  I handed Christine my car key and grinned. “Warm her up for us? Grant’ll help unsaddle.”

  Her start of surprise told me I hadn’t been as smooth about excusing myself
to talk to Grant as I’d intended, but she took the key without protest, smiling once over her shoulder as she sauntered to the car.

  I handed Galaxy off to Grant, keeping my hand on the reins a bit longer than necessary. “You have any inkling why I found a cow shot to hell and gone up there?”

  Grant stiffened, inhaled deeply, then slowly blew the breath out and nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

  “We need to talk.” I shot my brother a pointed look, a silent warning to stop dodging.

  “I know. Tomorrow, okay? Go ahead and take Christine home. I’ll settle the horses. And, Trav. Don’t bring it up in front of Dad.”

  So much for getting answers, I thought on the drive to town. The warning not to involve our father had only raised more questions, and I was certain I wasn’t going to like the answers.

  Christine

  “You’re awfully quiet.” I said, struggling to keep my voice casual.

  “Tired.”

  “Umm, yeah.” I watched him set the brake and turn off the engine, moving as if in slow motion. Not just tired.

  Drained.

  Our feet thudded heavily on the open-backed wood steps, as Travis walked me up to my apartment. After I unlocked the door I turned into his arms. His kiss went from soft to heated then back to gentle.

  I leaned into his embrace, enjoying the strength of his muscular arms beneath my hands. I struggled to let him go.

  “I really had different plans for the evening with you, Bluebell. Maybe a little stargazing, a glass of wine…”

  I look up gazing at the bright flicks of star light blazing across the night sky. “I love stargazing. There are so many here they almost…”

  “… blend together.”

  Electrical current raced along her spine. “Yes,” I whispered, wishing I could see his face.

  Travis gently spins me so my back is to him and then slides his arm around my waist, while we enjoy the view from my tiny balcony. “My mom used to tell us stories about the sky and the stars,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my neck.