❧
Cody stalked to the barn, his strides eating up the distance with angry speed. He should have just refused to take her along. He should have put his foot down and just flat out told her that she was not going with him.
He swung into the barn and crossed to Dancer's stall. The bay nodded a greeting, his nose prodding demandingly against Cody's breast pocket. As always happened when he was around horses, Cody found he couldn't sustain his anger. He smiled softly, murmuring a greeting to the big stallion.
"I should have put my foot down." He took something from his pocket and opened his palm flat, letting Dancer snuffle eagerly at the sugar cube that lay there. His free hand stroked the horse's muscled neck. "Why is it that I have a feeling if I'd put my foot down, she'd bite it off?" Dancer snorted a reply and butted his head on Cody's shoulder. Absently, Cody scratched behind the horse's ear. "And why do I have the feeling that I'd be very disappointed if she did agree to stay?"
When he'd seen her standing beside that window, looking up at the mountains, he'd known what she was thinking as surely as if he had read her mind. It would be colder up there. How would her nephew cope? A surprising emotion had swept over him. He'd wanted to put his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be all right. It was an urge he'd never felt toward a woman and he didn't want to feel it now.
With a muttered curse, he~gave Dancer one last scratch and backed away from the stall. He was aware of the dangers this woman represented and he'd just have to make sure that she didn't disrupt his life any more than could be helped. He'd go look for her nephew because it was something he had to do. Something was drawing him toward the crash and he had to follow that pull, but that was as far as it went.
Once they'd found the boy, she would leave him to go back to the life he was carefully building, and he'd never have to see her again, which was exactly what he wanted.
Wasn't it?
❧
No matter how much he wished her out of his life, Cody had to admit that Sara Grant had a gutsiness that he couldn't help but admire. She hadn't backed down from him this morning and she wasn't showing any signs of backing down now.
Even now, the angle of her chin dared him to say anything the least bit derogatory. He watched her without seeming to, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat. His hands moved automatically through the motions of loading the pack animals. He'd done it so often that it didn't take much conscious thought to balance the packs carefully, making sure that neither animal carried too much weight.
Most of his attention was on the woman a few feet away. She'd presented herself at the corral precisely an hour after he'd left her in the house. The saddlebags were clutched in her hands, and he'd noticed with approval that she hadn't overpacked. He said nothing, however. Instead, he introduced her to the horse he'd selected for her to ride.
"This is Satin. She's gentle and one of the best trail animals I've seen. There's your saddle. Take some time to get to know her and then saddle up. I'm leaving in half an hour."
His tone made it clear that he was leaving in half an hour, and if she wasn't ready to go, he wouldn't be waiting. Sara glared after him as he walked away. Irritating man. She turned back to the horse and met a pair of soft brown eyes that seemed to sympathize with her feelings. Satin was a palomino, the color of a new gold coin, with a silvery white mane and tail and the biggest, most expressive eyes Sara had ever seen.
"Oh, what a beauty you are." She breathed the words, absently groping in her pocket for the sugar cube she'd filched from the kitchen. She had no idea whether or not Cody fed his horses sugar, but one wouldn't hurt and it could go a long way toward making friends with her mount.
Satin snuffled the sugar cube up without a moment's hesitation, crunching it between strong teeth while Sara ran her palm along the horse's gleaming neck. The irritation she felt toward her reluctant host disappeared as she talked quietly with the horse. With Cody's departure time firmly set in her,mind, she couldn't spend as long with Satin as she would have liked, but by the time she started to saddle the mare, Sara felt confident that they'd reached a pretty firm understanding.
The saddling operation went smoothly until it came time to actually lift the saddle up onto the mare's back. When Sara told Cody that she knew horses, it had been a bit of an exaggeration. Her brother, Evan, had known his way around horses, and Cullen loved them. Sara had done some riding and she knew how to saddle a horse, but she was by no means an expert. The sheer weight of the saddle almost defeated her.
Luckily, Satin turned out to be the most patient of creatures, and Cody, apparently engrossed in putting the finishing touches to the packhorses, didn't seem to notice her struggles. Sara promised herself if he offered to help, or made some smug comment about her being a helpless female, she'd slug him one.
Satin stood rock steady even when the saddle bumped into her flank, and with a burst of strength, Sara managed to get the heavy leather up onto the horse's back. She leaned against Satin's side for a moment, willing strength back into her shaking arms.
Cody watched her from under the brim of his hat. He would have offered to help her with the saddle but he had the feeling that she'd have shoved the offer back in his teeth. She was no expert but she got the job done. She cinched the saddle snug and then turned to look at him. Her expression was so full of triumph that he almost smiled. But he didn't want to smile at her. He didn't want to like her.
He crossed to her side, silently checking the tightness of the cinch, and Sara watched him through narrowed eyes. The horse was perfectly saddled. She wasn't an expert but she knew there was nothing wrong with the job she'd done. If he said just one word...
"Looks good. I've got everything packed. You won't need a coat right now, but I'm going to tie it to the back of your saddle. Most likely you'll need it before we stop for the night."
Sara watched as he secured the coat, trying not to outwardly acknowledge the warm glow his approval brought to her body. It was just that she felt good about showing him that she wasn't helpless—that's all it was.
Twenty minutes later she boosted herself into the saddle and turned Satin's head to follow Cody's lead. A red-headed eighteen-year-old with a slightly gap-toothed grin waved from the end of the corral, and Sara lifted her hand in acknowledgment. In Billy Williams's pocket was a brief letter to David letting him know what was happening. She only hoped the boy didn't forget to take it into town and mail it.
If Cody was leaving him in charge of his stock, then the boy must be more responsible than his freckled face seemed to indicate. Funny, how she had such confidence in Cody's judgment. She might not like him, but her instincts insisted that she believe in him.
She lifted her face to the mountains ahead of them, inhaling deeply. The air was so crisp and clean she could almost taste it. A far cry from the L.A. smog.
In front of her, Cody sat on the bay horse as if he and the animal were one. His back was straight but not rigid, and he swayed easily in rhythm with the horse's pace. The two packhorses followed Dancer, their heads up, ears pricked forward as if in anticipation of the trail ahead. Satin brought up the rear, her pace smooth and easy.
Ranging a few yards ahead of Dancer was an animal that Cody had introduced simply as Dog. In Sara's opinion, this was a definite misnomer. There was nothing in the least doglike about the huge black and white creature. He had loped around the side of the barn, scaring her half out of her wits.
When introduced, Sara had held out her hand, but Dog had disdained anything so common as a sniff. He'd looked at her out of yellow eyes that held an almost-human intelligence, and Sara had the feeling that she'd been weighed and filed. She only hoped she'd been filed in a category of friendly acquaintances. She didn't think she'd like being on the wrong side of Dog. Cody had murmured a few words to the beast, and Dog had taken up his position at the head of their little caravan.
From her position at the tail end of the expedition, Sara had a clear view of the picture they prese
nted. The ranch lay behind them, its few reminders of civilization out of sight. Ahead of them lay the mountains, fundamentally unchanged since Zebulon Pike first saw them a hundred and seventy-five years before,
Sara didn't even have to close her eyes to imagine herself in a much earlier time. Cody's jeans and denim shirt blended easily with that image. The rifle that rested against his saddle might be more sophisticated than the ones the explorers had carried, but its purpose hadn't changed.
Falling into the rhythm of the horse's movements, she let her mind drift. They were a husband and wife journeying toward their new home. Perhaps up ahead lay a secluded valley where they would settle. Cody would fell logs for a cabin—only one room, but there were just the two of them. They'd have to hurry because winter was almost here. There'd be game in the mountains and in the spring she'd plant a garden. But between now and then there was a long, cold winter to get through.
Months with no one to rely on but each other. Her man would have to spend time hunting, and it would be hard to stretch their supplies until spring. But it would be worth it, because to offset the long hours of work, there would be the long, dark hours of night when there were just the two of them. He'd come to her in the flickering firelight, his body lean and hard. Her breasts would swell to his touch, her...
Sara snapped her eyes open, aware of a heavy feeling low in her belly. The air felt cold against the fiery heat in her cheeks. Thank God no one could see her face. Her thoughts must be written in scarlet letters across her forehead. It was one thing to daydream idly about what it would be like to live in another time. It was something else altogether when her fantasies took on a life of their own. She hunched her arms together, vividly aware of the way her nipples had puckered into taut peaks.
Her gloved hands tightened on the reins, loosening when Satin tossed her head in protest. Sara leaned forward, murmuring apologies to the mare. When she sat upright again, her cheeks were cool and she had her thoughts under control again. Cody Wolf was an attractive man. She could acknowledge that without becoming too aware of it. Right now she was forced to depend on him, both for herself and Cullen. She had to remember that she was in an emotionally volatile state. That's all it was. Her feelings didn't really have anything to do with the man who sat on his horse so gracefully only a few yards in front of her.
Cody glanced back over his shoulder, wondering what it was that had brought such a stern look to Sara's delicate features. He swung around in the saddle, facing forward again, but her face stayed with him as if painted on a gossamer curtain between him and the mountains.
❧
By the time Cody drew Dancer to a halt and the rest of the horses stopped behind him, Sara felt as if she'd been in the saddle for weeks instead of hours. Her spine ached, her legs seemed permanently bowed around the barrel of her horse and she couldn't even bear to contemplate the condition of her buttocks. Cody dismounted with an ease that made her want to hit him, preferably with a large rock.
She eased her leg over the saddle and managed to land on the ground with absolutely no grace, but she didn't really care. All that mattered was the feel of solid earth under her boots. Her knees quivered and threatened to collapse beneath her, and she clung to the saddle until they steadied enough to hold her upright. She looked at Satin and bit her lip to stifle a wave of despair. The first rule was to take care of your animal. Evan had drummed that into her every time they went riding. The problem was, she couldn't possibly lift the saddle off. If it had been heavy before, it was going to weigh twice as much now.
But she was damned if she was going to ask Mr. Friendly for help. Gritting her teeth, she reached for the cinch strap, only to find other hands, there first.
"Go sit down." His husky voice was brusque, and some of Sara's exhaustion vanished beneath a surge of pride.
"I can do it. I rode her, I'll take care of her," she insisted.
His hands stilled on the cinch and he turned to look at her. Those brilliant green eyes swept over her from the tousled ponytail that held her hair off her face, down over the green plaid shirt and snug denims to her black boots. Sara had the feeling that he could see every aching muscle, including her shaking knees.
He let the silence stretch a moment before his eyes met hers again. "I don't want to waste time arguing with you. You're dead on your feet. Go sit down."
"But..."
His jaw hardened and Sara gave up the argument. She turned away, holding her back rigidly straight. Damn him! Damn him for seeing her weakness and not even having the decency to pretend he didn't. It was some time before she cooled off enough to pay any attention to their surroundings. For the last half an hour, she'd been riding in a fog.
Their camp lay in a narrow valley that boasted a small stream trickling through the middle of it. The streambed was much wider than the shallow flow of water, and it wasn't hard to guess that when the snow melted in the high country in spring the delicate trickle would become a modest river. The grass was still green, contrasting with the darker color of the blue spruce that crept down the sides of the mountains around them.
The setting was like a painting of the Old West, with nothing to disturb its picture-book perfection. Cody fit right into the picture as he worked around the horses, unloading packs and picketing the animals in the autumn grasses. He'd set his hat aside, and a light breeze teased playfully at his thick hair.
Sara leaned back on her hands, stretching her sore legs out in front of her. The sun was sinking rapidly behind the mountains. It would be totally dark soon. Her first night in the wilderness. Staring up the mountain, she wondered how many more nights she'd have to spend here before they found the crash site.
How many people had been in this valley before them? Had a band of hardy pioneers camped here once? Indians? The Indians who had lived in this area must surely have known of this exquisite little valley. She focused hazily on her reluctant guide. He'd said something about beating on a tom-tom and dancing around fires. Was he a Native American? Perhaps his ancestors had once lived in this valley.
Cody stood next to Dancer, rubbing a curry brush over the stallion's back. There was a softness in his face that she hadn't seen before, and it was obvious that he loved the horse. If she narrowed her eyes, it wasn't hard to picture him without the jeans and shirt, the long moccasins clinging to his calves and a deerskin breechclout his only other covering. His legs would be muscled and...
"Wake up. Supper's ready." Sara awoke with a start. She was disoriented to find herself lying on the ground, a light blanket thrown over her body. The sun was completely gone and the temperature had dropped to a chilly level.
Cody was crouched beside her, only withdrawing his hand from her shoulder when he saw that her eyes were staying open. Sara sat up and rubbed her eyes like a sleepy child.
"What time is it?"
"It's after dark." And that answer was enough. The artificial division of days into hours and minutes was not relevant once civilization was left behind. All that really mattered was that the sun was gone.
"Have I been asleep long?"
"Not long." She looked so soft and feminine just waking from her nap that Cody had to fight the urge to brush the tendrils of hair back from her forehead and kiss the sleep from her eyes. He stood up, backing away from temptation.
"If you want to wash up in the stream before dinner, I suggest you get a move on. We want to get dinner out of the way so we can get an early start in the morning."
Sara was still groping through the sleepy fog that clouded her mind when he walked away. Ten minutes later, she sat on a small camp stool and dug into the hot stew Cody had dished onto her plate. The crisp air and the afternoon's ride had left her with an appetite, and food had never tasted better.
"This is the stew we had last night, isn't it?"
"Seemed a shame to throw it out. Billy will drive home for supper most nights." His eyes swept over her. "Enjoy it while you can. After tonight, we'll be eating canned and dried foods."
; Sara shrugged, dipping a slightly squashed slice of bread into the rich gravy. "I don't mind." If he was trying to make her regret coming along, he was going to have to come up with a more powerful threat than boring food.
Cody refused her offer of help with the cleanup, insisting brusquely that he worked better alone. Sara had no idea whether he was being kind to her stiff muscles or not, but she accepted his refusal. The air had grown chilly enough that she'd dug her jacket out of the pack he'd dropped beside her, and now she was grateful for its warmth as she huddled next to the fire.
She reached out to add a stick of wood to the leaping flames and then jerked her hand back as a dark shape loomed up from the darkness outside the circle of light. Her first thought was Wolf and the breath she drew in was intended for a scream that died unvoiced when she recognized Dog. She'd lost track of the animal as the afternoon wore on. He'd disappeared ahead, and she hadn't seen him since they made camp. Now, looming up out of the darkness, the shaggy body looked bigger than ever and the black patch that surrounded one yellow eye gave him a sinister look that made a shiver run up Sara's spine.
Cody was somewhere out in the darkness. She had no idea where or how far away. It was just her and the dog. She cleared her throat, remembering her brother's admonitions that animals could sense fear. But surely this creature realized he was too big to inspire anything but fear.
"Hi, Dog."
Those golden eyes studied her for a long, unblinking moment, and Sara hoped he wasn't considering the digestibility of her nylon jacket. He seemed to come to some decision, because he padded around the fire toward her. Sara forgot how to breathe. Dog could probably tear her throat out long before Cody could do anything to save her, assuming that Cody wouldn't welcome his dog's solution to the problem she represented.
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