Desert Sunrise (Love in the Sierras Book 2)

by Belle, Sawyer

  Val’s head lowered in shame. “That’s the truth of it, Doc. I walked to Virginia City yesterday and had to stop once to catch my breath. Hell, I couldn’t even keep up with Sandy in the mine today and he’s almost twice my age. Not to mention the way my shirts are hanging on me these days. I used to fill the bastards out.”

  The doctor laughed and shook his head. “Tell your vanity to relax. You will regain your strength.”

  “But how long will it take?”

  “As long as you take. You are in control of that. You can work at it until you’re ready to drop, or you can sit here staring wistfully at a rodeo advertisement.”

  Argyle’s eyebrows rose suggestively as he stood from the table. He placed the advertisement in front of Val and tapped it once before leaving the room. Val stared at the paper for a long moment before making his way to the back of the house near the barn. He threw his shirt on the ground beside his cane and jumped up to grab a low branch of a cottonwood tree. Hanging in the air, the muscles in his back and shoulder stretched painfully. He fought through the urge to let go and instead pulled himself up until his chin touched the branch. All of his muscles tweaked and he dropped to the ground in a pant.

  Once the pain subsided, he leapt for the branch again and finished another three pull-ups before hitting the ground. For the rest of the afternoon, he fought waves of pain and broke new callouses upon his palms as he battled his weakness and doubt by doing pull-ups.

  He checked his pocket watch as he lifted his shirt from the ground. There was just enough time for a hot bath before he needed to be in Virginia City. He expected his muscles to feel tight and inflamed, but the walk back to the house and up to his room was light and easy.

  The town hall was jam-packed with people wanting a hand in the rodeo. Some wanted to participate; others wanted to offer their animals to be used in exchange for publicity. Val was happy to be at the back of the line, for he hadn’t decided which event he felt comfortable competing in. Every year, he and Morgan had ridden bareback on the bucking broncos, but his body ached just thinking about it.

  As Val scanned the list of events, his confidence began to fade. Every contest was designed to test a man’s physical strength and endurance. Looking around the room, he knew he was no match for the men on the roster. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself by making a spectacle of his weakness. What had he been thinking, joining the rodeo? It was a bad idea from the start.

  He turned to leave when a whirlwind of purple lace from head to toe whisked through the doorway and into the hall, followed by a miniature version close on her heels. She stood out like a blooming rosebush among sage and every man in the area turned to smile and doff his hat. She took advantage and flashed a gleaming smile of straight white teeth at each face as she passed them all in line. Val admired the wide upturn of her lips and the way it brought soft, becoming lines to the skin around her eyes. When she drew beside him her smile turned crisp and cold, and he felt his defenses rise.

  “Monsieur Kelly,” she said solidly as she fidgeted with the lacy bow under her chin. “So, you have finally stopped licking your wounds and rejoined za world of men, I see.”

  “Ah, Mademoiselle Collette,” he returned, placing a hand over his chest. “I had almost missed your particular brand of heartburn. Almost…”

  “Tell me, which of zees challenges do you feel man enough to take on?”

  He frowned. There it was. She had thrown down the gauntlet and there was no backing out. The mischievous glint in her violet eyes told him she had meant to do just that. He smiled through gritted teeth.

  “Haven’t selected an event yet, but I am far more curious as to why you’re here. Tell me you’re not risking injury to that beautiful face of yours to prove your masculinity?”

  The surrounding men laughed, and Collette’s lips curled in a smug grin. A light, tinkling laughter bubbled out of her as she tapped his chest with the tip of her finger. “Your masculinity is already so frail and fragile. I voodn’t vant to do it any more damage. So, I vill not compete.”

  The laughter heightened, and Val bit the inside of his cheek, determined not to admire her quick wit or the pleasant trill of her laughter. “So, why are you here?”

  “I am here to offer my horse in za hide races.”

  His brow lifted. “Hide races?”

  She pointed to the bottom of the list he held and there it was. He pursed his lips. It must be a new event. He’d never heard of such a thing. Before he could ask about it, Collette explained the event to him and the men nearby.

  “Riders on horseback vill tow men on dried pieces of cowhide across a desert course. Za first man to cross za finish line wins, and let me tell you, gentlemen, crossing za line vill not be za hard part. Staying on za hide vill be. It takes strong arms and a strong sense of balance.”

  “And how would you know that?” Val snickered. “Don’t tell me you’ve done this before?”

  She sneered. “I spent my childhood doing zees for fun.”

  His brow furrowed. “You spent your childhood riding cowhides across desert courses?”

  “Zat is vut I said.” She looked him up and down and her eyes darted to his cane. “But zees one I think you should sit out. Your shirts are getting too big on you. Why don’t you come by za shop for me to take zem in? I vood be happy to help.”

  Val’s eyes narrowed until they flitted to the bright round violet eyes of Collette’s sister. He smiled softly as the shy creature averted her eyes. She’d grown quite a bit in the last half year and her body was starting to take on a more womanly curve.

  “Helene, I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said, his voice sweet and full of charm. “You look like a young lady, not like the little girl I met last year.” Her cheeks blushed and she looked at the ground, saying nothing.

  “Come, Helene,” Collette called and marched off without another word to the front of the assembly to address the rodeo committee. Val slinked back to watch, still struggling to control the irritation she incited in him.

  Loud conversations broke out when Collette handed her advertising scroll to the committee and walked out of the hall with her nose pointed in the air. Before she left the building with Helene, she spared one glance and a challenging brow for Val. That one glance was all the motivation he needed. He strode up to the desk and placed his and Morgan’s names down for the hide races.

  Three weeks. That’s all he had to prepare himself for the ride of his life.

  Chapter 4

  Collette hugged her legs around the warm belly of the horse as he cantered through the desert. His stride was the smoothest of any animal she’d ridden, full of a proud and regal grace. He was a strong, fierce creature who deserved much better than the man who had purchased him. She may not be his rightful master, but Achilles had always belonged to her. It took very little coaxing for him to ride out of the barn that night three years ago.

  They travelled into the mouth of a narrow canyon and followed the creek bed until she spied the copse of cottonwoods surrounding her favorite resting spot. Very few people knew that beyond the layers of white, leafy trees sat a steaming hot spring. Private and peaceful, she frequented the pool several times a week to relax the stress knotted in her back.

  Achilles stopped just before the trees, and she slid to the ground, looping the reins around the saddle horn so he could wander and nibble without stepping on them. She grabbed the saddle bags and draped them over her shoulder as she began to climb through the maze of twisted tree trunks. The pungent odor of sulfur drifted all around her and thick fingers of steam curled up from the pool below the bank, wandering through the branches overhead. She could already feel the heat wrapping around her, blocking out the cold air, and she longed to sink into the spring.

  As she cleared a succession of low-lying branches, her eye caught a pile of dark garments tossed on the ground on the other side of the pool, and she stopped. She heard the snort of a horse closer than Achilles.

  Dropping in
to a squat, she peered through the shifting vapors at the spring ten feet below and saw a man sitting chest-deep in the water. His back rested against the sandy bank with his arms spread out wide. His head leaned back, pointing his face toward the sky. A thick, black cigar was clenched between his teeth and he puffed leisurely, clouds of smoke mingling in the air with the steam. His sigh was full of contentment as he closed his eyes.

  Valentine Kelly.

  Her gaze traced the strong jawline shadowed by dark stubble and followed the length of his throat until she admired the lean muscles of his upper chest. Though smaller than he was last year, the definition in his torso was still pleasing. She knew it was an issue about which he was sensitive, having seen it in his eyes when she’d teased him about his shirts. Insecurity in a man like Val was rarely seen. He had always seemed keenly aware of his beauty.

  Seeing him at the town hall had set her heart fluttering so wildly she was sure he would have seen her pulse pounding against her throat if not for the lace covering it. Though she had known she’d run into him eventually, she’d been unprepared for the way his presence stirred her insides. It was as if no time had passed since they last spoke, since she last breathed his intoxicating, manly scent. He had awoken certain longings she believed far gone, longings that must remain lifeless.

  Her musings came to an abrupt halt when she heard the unmistakable metal clink of a cocking gun hammer and looked up to find the barrels of a pistol aimed at her through the trees. A breath gathered in her belly and she held it there, waiting for him to release the trigger.

  “I know you’re there,” he said. “Come on out where I can see you fully, and don’t make me ask twice.”

  She looked around for some method of escape and cursed beneath her breath. Knowing there was no way out, she faced the situation head-on. She stood and raised her chin, striding through the last layers of trees to stand on the edge of the bank and look down on him.

  “Don’t make you ask twice?” she mocked. “I didn’t hear you ask once.”

  Val released the hammer and set the pistol back down on the ground behind him. He filled his lungs with a puff of smoke and smiled as he released it in her direction. “Well, well, well, Frenchie. Imagine that, you sneaking around to watch me bathe.”

  She felt her ears go red with rage as she planted her hands on her hips. “I think zat smoke is making you delusional.”

  He laughed once. “If it is, I’ll have another one. I quite like the idea of you watching me.”

  “I have always detested men who smoke,” she said, refusing to be baited into his game of sexual parley. “It rots your chest, yellows your teeth, and makes za hairs on your head rank. Although, in your case, zees are all improvements.”

  His chest shook with the rumble of his laughter. “Is that what you were you thinking while you watched me from on high?”

  “Vut I vuz thinking, Monsieur, is how disappointed I vuz zat someone has intruded upon my sanctuary.”

  “Intruded upon your sanctuary?” Val repeated with raised eyebrows. “This, here, is my sanctuary, and you are the one intruding. But I am not a totally selfish being. Feel free to strip down and join me.”

  Her eyes dipped down to the rippling view of his naked body in the water and those old desires stirred deep and low within her. She stamped a foot into the ground. “Will you please cover yourself?!”

  He relaxed further into the bank and his lips curled in a slow grin. “I’ve got nothing to hide. Admire away.”

  She huffed. “You admire yourself enough for za both of us, Monsieur.” Perhaps she had been mistaken about his insecurity.

  “Ah, c’mon, Collette. Relax the shoulders a bit. Pull back your venom. Why not join me? There’s no one around to see or hear you. No one will ever know but you and me and our beasts of burden. We can compare wounds and swap stories. I’ve been dying to know more about that bullet wound you claim to have.” He waggled his eyebrows and she couldn’t help but laugh as she shook her head.

  “How did you get your horse down there?” she asked with genuine curiosity.

  “Oh, you mean the owner of this sanctuary doesn’t know there’s more than one way in?” he asked in a mousy voice. She rolled her eyes and he laughed before giving her the real answer. “There’s a path that leads in from the other side of the canyon, a narrow passage through the wall, but you’d have to know it was there to see it. Morgan and I found it years ago when we were mapping the area for prospectors.”

  “Speaking of mines, isn’t zer one zat requires your attention? Or do you expect to win za rodeo from za flat of your back? Because zat is where you vill be if you don’t regain your strength.”

  His smile faded, and she saw the flash of insecurity once again, albeit briefly. It was quickly snuffed out by a boyish mischief glinting in the light brown of his eyes. “I’m much more interested in seeing you on the flat of your back, Mademoiselle.”

  Burning heat flared in her middle, and she ignored it as her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to sneer at him. “I am quite certain that is beyond your capabilities as well.”

  “Stick around and let’s find out.”

  “Certainly,” she said with a casual shrug. “Just let me run for a preacher.” His features scrunched together, and she almost laughed. “Vell, you don’t expect me to partake in something like zat outside of marriage, do you?”

  He snorted. “Sorry, sweetheart. Marriage and me are like tar and water. We repel each other. But I see a bit of tar in you, too. Come on down here and I’ll change your matrimonial mind.”

  “I vood rather kiss a horse’s ass.”

  “If that’s the sort of thing you’re into,” he said with a shrug, “I can’t do much about that…except offer up my horse.”

  She sneered and turned to leave but the hem of her skirt snagged on a branch, holding her in place. Curses flew from her lips as she yanked on the fabric. Val’s laughter rang out from behind, grating her nerves even more. One final tug and the skirt ripped through, releasing her with such force that she stumbled backwards. The saddlebags slipped from her shoulder and she leaned out to catch it. Soft sand slipped beneath her feet and she tumbled off the bank and down into the water, emitting a loud shriek as she went. Her boots sank into the muddy bottom of the spring and the weight of her skirts pulled her down until her chin dipped into the water. She bobbed back up with a gasp and reached for her throat, relieved to find her hat still tied to her neck.

  Val was by her side in an instant. “Are you all right?”

  He grabbed her arms and pulled her against him, their faces only inches apart. His breath washed over her, warm on her cheeks, cool on her wet chin and throat, creating hard tingles over the surface of her skin. Her hands splayed across his slick chest and she held her breath while the steady pulse of his heartbeat sped up beneath her fingers. Their eyes met and she felt drawn by the darkening amber of his irises until her leather saddlebags floated into view behind him and she gasped, shoving him away.

  “No, no, no. The bag! Grab it before all of my clothes get wet.”

  She scrambled toward it but struggled to get her footing on the soft floor. Every time she pulled a boot free, it sank into her next step. Val lifted the satchel from the water and tossed it onto the bank. She relaxed with a sigh, then reached out for his support, but he settled back into his comfortable seat. Collette’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

  “Aren’t you going to assist me out of this pool?”

  “I’m not in the mood to get shoved twice. I figure you’re the independent sort and can help yourself.”

  She huffed and shook her head. “What a gentleman you are. Get a lady into trouble and then refuse to help her. There is a name for men like you.”

  “You got yourself into this scrape, not me.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “You’re right. I must remember to pay the tree for snagging your skirt for me. My plan worked perfectly.”

  She dragged one leg through
the mud and made a giant step toward the bank. “Your sarcasm is not appreciated.”

  “I appreciate it.” He puffed on his cigar. “It takes a certain kind of talent to be me.”

  She rolled her eyes and finally made it to the bank. Her skirts shed most of the water as she stood shaking them out, but what didn’t fall to the ground was wrung out by her steely grip. She lifted her bag from the ground and shuffled through the contents. The skirt and shirt inside were damp but nowhere near as soaked as the one she wore. She went to Val’s horse and grabbed the reins, pulling the animal in front of her.

  “If you really are a gentleman, Valentine Kelly, you will avert your eyes as I change.” He turned his head to lift a suggestive brow in her direction. When she scowled at him, he chuckled and turned away to stare at the bank she’d just tumbled down. Using the horse as a barrier, she removed her wet clothes and replaced them with the dryer set, always peering over the horse’s back to be sure Val respected her modesty. She pulled her bull whip from the satchel so she could stuff her wet clothes into the bag.

  “Vell,” she said as she released the reins and flung the saddlebag and whip over her shoulder. “I vish I could say it has been a pleasure seeing you again.”

  Val turned and put a hand over his heart. “The pleasure was all mine, I assure you.”

  Her teeth ground together. Not only had he stolen her sanctuary, but he had ruined one of her best dresses. She made her way to the boulders flanking the spring, preparing to climb out of the area when Val’s mocking voice called out to her again.

  “What do you carry that around for?” he asked, nodding toward the coiled bull whip resting on her shoulder. “You’re not on the range, sister. Although, my guess is you don’t even really know how to use the thing. What would a fancy Frenchwoman have use of a whip for?”

  Before she could assess her actions, she grabbed the handle and threw her arm up high, drawing one wide circle in the air before snapping it down with a flick of her wrist. Val’s eyes went wide as the whip tail cut right through the center of his cigar as it hung in his mouth. She watched his eyes travel past the end of his nose to take in the two sections of cigar veering away from one another. Tentatively, he reached up and pulled the piece from his mouth and his tongue slid out to wet his lips.