From Here to Texas

by Stella Bagwell

  “I remember.” Her blue eyes caught his and he felt his heart jump into a dangerous rhythm. “What time do you want for me to meet you?”

  Smiling with pleasure, she grabbed both his hands and squeezed. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll pick you up here. What time?”

  He felt wicked and indecent and stupid. But for the first time in years, he felt alive.

  “Six.”

  She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss upon his cheek. “I’ll be here.”

  Chapter Four

  Later that evening, Quito was signing a request for additional funding for equipment when a soft knock sounded on his door.

  Knowing it was Clementine, he picked up the document and switched off the light on his desk. Then reaching for his Stetson, he slapped it on and went to open the door.

  She was standing on the other side, a soft smile on her face and a light in her blue eyes that stirred his imagination.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Just let me drop this by Julie’s office and then we’ll be on our way.”

  She walked along beside him as they made their way down the wide corridor and the perfume she’d been wearing earlier drifted once again to his nostrils. She smelled sweet and lusty at the same time and he was amazed at the sexual urges suddenly stirring his body.

  Three weeks ago, he’d been almost dead. On top of that, he had not seen this woman in eleven years. How could his body suddenly turn into a wild buck deer?

  Outside on the sidewalk, she pointed to where her car was parked several spaces on down the street from the building. “I have everything loaded into the trunk,” she told him. “Do you think we still have enough daylight to make it to the meadow?”

  Rather than glance at his watch, Quito turned a narrowed eye on the ball of hot sun. “It will be nearly nine before darkness falls. We’ll have time. But I don’t think we should drive your car. Let’s take my SUV,” he suggested. “That way if we have to go over some rough spots, we’ll have four-wheel drive.”

  She shrugged. “Sounds fine to me. But isn’t that a department vehicle?”

  He cast her a grin. “We’re going up there on department business. I got a tip that someone left some robbery evidence up there. We might accidentally stumble over it.”

  Catching on to his real meaning, she smiled and looped her arm through his. “Then we’ll be entirely legal. And no one can roast you over a fire.”

  Quito wasn’t so sure he wasn’t roasting right this minute. But he kept the thought to himself. It wouldn’t do for Clementine to get the idea that she still had that much effect on him. No, he needed to play it cool. But how was he going to do that when every part of him was on a slow burn?

  After loading the picnic things into Quito’s SUV, they climbed in and he headed the vehicle north. For a little more than thirty minutes he drove the highway to Durango until they reached the foothills announcing bigger mountains to come.

  Once Quito turned off the asphalt, the dim dirt road grew treacherous and Clementine held on to the armrests as the vehicle jostled from side to side.

  “The place has certainly changed,” Clementine commented as Quito wrestled with the steering wheel. “The road wasn’t nearly this rough when we used to come up here.”

  “Everything changes, Clementine.”

  Darting a glance at him, she could only think how true his words were. These past years away from him had changed her in so many ways. She wanted to think she’d learned lessons and moved forward in her life in a positive manner, but sitting here with Quito made her wonder if she were stepping backward into a place where it would be impossible for her to exist.

  Quito looked across to the woman buckled into the bucket seat. There was a tiny frown marring her forehead, a distant stare to her eyes. He didn’t try to guess what she was thinking. Probably that she should have never suggested this little picnic trip, he thought. On the other hand, she might have Houston on her mind. No doubt she had a man there. He couldn’t imagine a woman like her not being attached to some good-looking guy with a fat bank account. But he didn’t want to think about that now. He’d never wanted to think about it.

  “There’s a spot not too far from here where the road widens. I think we’d better park and walk from there. Did you wear something reasonable on your feet?”

  He glanced down to see if she was still wearing the stiletto heels, and Clementine lifted her foot to show him a plain brown cowboy boot.

  She smiled coyly at him. “See. I’ve grown up and gotten a little common sense.”

  He grunted with amusement. “Only a little?” he asked.

  A soft laugh slipped past her lips. “I have the wrong hair color to absorb a head full of common sense.”

  Maybe the rich girl from Houston hadn’t changed all that much, Quito thought. At least she was still able to make fun of herself and she still liked to picnic. But there was something about her eyes, he thought. Something dark and desolate that made him want to take her into his arms, stroke her face and kiss her lips until her blue eyes were sparkling with life and passion as they used to.

  For the next five minutes Quito wrestled the SUV over rough, steep terrain until the vehicle reached a flat slab of rock that crested over the bottom shelf of the mountain. Here the track they’d been following petered out and he parked the SUV safely to one side beneath a scraggly piñon pine.

  Clementine had packed a large picnic hamper and filled an insulated carrier with ice, soda and water. Once Quito lifted the two items from the back seat, she reached to take the smaller one.

  “Let me carry the sodas,” she said. “You shouldn’t be straining yourself.”

  He shot her an offended glance. “I’m not straining anything. You just walk along beside me and watch your step,” he ordered. “You’re not walking in a mall in Houston now.”

  Instead of raising her temper, his little jab only made her chuckle. “Oh, Quito, I’m walking on easy ground compared to some of the places I’ve been in the past two years.”

  He glanced at her again, only this time his dark brows were pulled together in a frown. “Sorry. I forgot about your volunteer work. I suppose you haven’t exactly been walking on easy street.”

  Nothing has been easy about my life since I left you.

  Clementine contained that revealing thought in the hollow part of her heart and instead said, “Not easy. But I’ve learned a lot about the world. And about myself.”

  “Like what?”

  “Hmm. Well, that I can get along without luxuries and comforts if I have to. And that there’s much more important things in life than having a career that makes you lots of money or having a social position in the community.”

  She sounded so sincere, Quito thought. And maybe she did really mean what she was saying. But it was easy for a person, who had money to burn, to talk as though they could easily do without it. “Uh, where do you live now?” he asked. “When you’re not traveling. With your parents?”

  Shaking her head, she said, “I haven’t lived with my parents since—college. I have a house in the same neighborhood as my parents. But I rarely stay there. I don’t like the city too much anymore, I feel stifled there.”

  God forgive me, she thought, as Quito silently walked along beside her. She was trying to be as honest as she could be and everything she’d told him was the truth. Except the part about the city making her feel stifled. When it wasn’t really the city at all. It was Niles and his constant attempts to have all sorts of connections with her. Attempts that frankly had become downright frightening. But she didn’t want Quito to know that. She didn’t want him to know what an utter mess she’d made of her life. And how poor her judgment in men had been.

  She could feel him glance at her and she gave him a faint smile. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she spotted the dour look on his face.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking, wondering why you suddenly decided to come back to San Juan County.”

  “Why?�
� she asked with a faint grin. “Does it upset you to be having a picnic with a divorced woman?”

  “I’d be more upset if you were married,” he said simply.

  “If I were a married woman I wouldn’t be here with you. I think you know I’m not that sort.”

  He nodded. “Yes. I know it,” he said, then gestured ahead of them. “Now, look out there.”

  Peeping around a pine bough for a better look, Clementine gasped. “Oh, Quito, it’s beautiful!”

  She rushed forward a few steps, then stopped to take it all in. The meadow, their meadow, as she’d always thought of it, was in full bloom. Yellow and pink buttercups and wild red clover created a vibrant blanket across the small, grassy area.

  Quito came to stand next to her. “The snowfall was heavy this past winter. It’s made the flowers beautiful this spring.”

  Clementine didn’t want to think about the nitrogen in the snow or any other scientific reason for the beauty before her. She’d rather think Mother Nature made it this special just for her and Quito.

  Sighing with pleasure, she drank in the azure-blue sky and the gorgeous carpet of blossoms. If only her days could stay this beautiful and peaceful, she thought longingly.

  “Come on,” Quito urged. “Let’s go down by the stream to eat.”

  The two of them walked across the edge of the meadow and climbed over several boulders that lined the trickling stream making its way down the mountain. Here, along the water’s edge, globe willows and small cottonwoods grew. Their shade cooled the quiet spot and Clementine smiled with delight as she sat down cross-legged on the ground.

  “Sorry. I didn’t bring a blanket. Only a small tablecloth,” she told Quito. “We can put our supper out on it, but we’ll have to sit on the ground and dirty our jeans.”

  He placed the basket and the container of drinks on the square of fabric, then eased himself down a small space away from her.

  “A little dirt never hurt me,” he said. “Besides, I’m starving. I’d almost be willing to sit in a prickly pear patch to get something in my stomach.”

  She glanced at him as she reached to open the picnic hamper. “Still a man with a big appetite, I see,” she said with a faint smile. “I hope you’re not disappointed with fried chicken. I wanted a traditional picnic with chicken and potato salad and baked beans.”

  His brows lifted in question. “I hope you got the food from the Wagon Wheel.”

  Smiling happily, she said, “It is. That waitress friend of yours, Betty, put it all together for me. She said she hoped you enjoy it”

  Quito groaned. “You told Betty about this?”

  Clementine looked at him, her heart pounding with unexplained dread. “I didn’t know it should be a secret. Uh, is there a woman that you don’t want knowing about our picnic?”

  Quito rolled his eyes. “Not hardly. There hasn’t been—” He stopped abruptly as he realized he wasn’t ready to admit to Clementine that, since her, he’d not had any deep relationship with a woman. She didn’t need to know what a hold she’d had on him back then. Or what a hold she still had on his heart.

  “No. There’s no woman. I wouldn’t be here with you if there was,” he said, using the very words she’d used on him earlier.

  “Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” she said, “let’s eat. I’m starving, too.”

  He helped her smooth out the tablecloth and place all the small plastic containers of food onto the makeshift table. At the bottom of the basket, along with paper plates and plastic utensils, he found a bottle of wine and two plastic goblets. The discovery had him looking up at her in surprise.

  “What’s this for?” he asked.

  Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink as she shrugged and smiled. “I thought it would be nice to have a little toast.”

  “To what?” he asked guardedly.

  She glanced over at the sparkling clear water racing over small boulders and pooling in a wide, dished-out basin not far from where the two of them were sitting. “To having dinner together again. To being here again in our meadow.”

  Quito didn’t miss the word our but he tried his best not to make too much of it. Clementine was only here for a few days. She belonged in Houston or some place where there were bright lights, excitement, art, cultural entertainment, and lots of money. Not in a little desert town like Aztec.

  “I haven’t been up here in a long time,” he admitted while looking around him. A couple of magpies were fluttering among the tree limbs shading a portion of the stream, their musical chatter was the only sound around, except for the loud heartbeat in his ears and it seemed to be getting faster by the minute.

  Damn it, he didn’t know what was wrong with him. He was too old for this sort of thing. Picnicking in the mountains, sitting on the ground and gazing at a beautiful woman who’d once torn his heart into pieces. There were plenty of reasons he shouldn’t be here. But he’d never had common sense where Clementine was concerned and apparently the past eleven years hadn’t changed that part of him.

  Sighing, Clementine lifted her gaze to the late evening sky. “It’s so beautiful here. So peaceful. I’ve thought about this place often.” She leveled her gaze back on his dark face. “And you,” she added softly.

  Something tightened the muscles in his throat, forcing him to look away from her and swallow hard. “And what were you thinking?” he asked a bit dryly. “Wonder what ol’ hayseed Quito is doing back in Aztec?”

  A frown wrinkled her otherwise smooth features and as Quito turned his gaze back on her he felt time peeling away and once again he was that young, new sheriff and Clementine was a beautiful innocent with eyes full of promise that beckoned more than the curl of a finger ever could. She’d been a virgin when the two of them had made love here in the meadow and though he’d felt badly afterward about taking her innocence, she’d sworn how glad she was that it had been him to initiate her into womanhood.

  Quito had been in love with her even before that first encounter. But their union here in the meadow had sealed his fate as far as matters of the heart were concerned. He’d never wanted anyone as much as he’d wanted Clementine. And the years hadn’t changed that for him. Looking back on it now, he marveled that she hadn’t gotten pregnant with his child. The two of them had made love every time they’d had the chance to be together and neither of them had bothered to worry about birth control. Quito could only wonder how things might have gone if she had gotten pregnant. Maybe she would have stayed and married him. Or maybe she would have walked away with his baby and allowed some other, wealthy man to raise it.

  “Quito! That’s an awful thing to say. Never in my life have I thought of you as hayseed.” She scowled at him. “And why are you frowning? What are you thinking?”

  He shook his head and reached for a can of soda. Popping the lid, he said a bit sharply. “Nothing. I’m just hungry. Let’s eat.”

  She watched him take a long swallow and once he lowered it, she reached across the small space between them and wrapped her fingers around his bare forearm. His skin was warm and the muscle and bone beneath her touch was hard. She felt herself melting, longing to push her hand upward onto his shoulder, to circle his neck with her arms and crush her breasts against his broad chest.

  The wanting was an ache inside her, an ache that had lasted throughout the years they’d been apart.

  “Quito, I’m sorry if coming here has made you unhappy,” she said softly. “I thought it would be nice for both of us.”

  His nostrils flared as his dark eyes slipped slowly, questioningly over her face. “Don’t you understand, Clem, what it’s doing to me to be here with you like this? All I can think of is how much I wanted you.”

  Her heart tripped wildly as she inched her hand slowly up his arm. “That’s all I can think about, too.”

  His gaze slipped pointedly to her hand then back to her face and he looked at her with a bit of longing, anger and confusion all rolled up together.

  Clementine purposely
pushed the containers of food from the space between them, then scooted closer so that her thigh was touching his and her hands could rest upon his chest.

  “I didn’t plan this picnic to seduce you, Quito. But right now it seems like a very good idea.”

  She leaned toward him, her lips parted, her eyes begging. Quito couldn’t have resisted her even if he’d been drawing in his last breath of life.

  With a muffled oath of self-disgust, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “Damn it, Clementine, what do you think I am, an idiot?”

  One hand came up to touch his cheek and she watched his eyelids lower just a fraction as the pads of her fingers traced the length of his jaw. “I don’t get the urge to kiss idiots,” she whispered.

  Roughly his fingers pushed into her hair until they were cradling the back of her head and tilting the curves of her mouth up to his.

  “Come here. Come here, my darling Clementine.”

  The sweet words were spoken against her lips and by the time her name whispered away on the breeze he was kissing her the way he used to kiss her—hot and all consuming.

  Groaning deep in her throat, Clementine shifted her hips onto his lap and circled his neck with her arms. The position brought them even closer together and before either realized what was happening, Quito was easing her down to the ground.

  She felt the cool bed of river pebbles beneath her back, but only in an absent way. Her senses, her thoughts were completely focused on the only man she’d ever loved.

  As his lips finally left hers to nuzzle a trail along the side of her neck, she murmured, “Quito. Quito. I didn’t know this was going to happen. But I wanted it to. Don’t hate me for that.”

  Easing his head back, he looked at her with an expression of wry surrender. “Does it feel like I hate you?”

  A helpless moan sounded deep in her throat. “It feels like we’ve never been apart.”

  Quito’s hand pushed at the silken blond hair that had dipped across her cheek. The skin of his fingers was tough and rasped ever so slightly against her skin as he drew his hand across her forehead.