Bluebells on the Hill

by Barbara McMahon

'Here and there.' She waved her hand vaguely.

  'Doing something you shouldn't, I warrant. Did it involve that nefarious man you had spend the night a while back?'

  'Nefarious man? You mean Dave?' Amanda gave a small giggle. 'Dave’s not nefarious.'

  'I bet!'

  'Where's the option agreement?' She changed the subject before she got mad.

  'Here.' Mac drew an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.

  Amanda opened it and scanned the page. It looked pretty standard to her, but she'd read it carefully before signing. The amount for purchase of the option was blank. She looked up questioningly.

  'We never discussed money. My attorney drew up the agreement and left that blank. There should be some remittance for the option. How much?' Mac asked.

  Still piqued that he had only come for her to clear up the option, she replied carelessly, 'Five thousand.'

  'You're nuts!' he thundered. 'I'm not paying for your life here in Timber! You find your income somewhere else. You want a job, I'll help you get one, but you're not riding free on my money.'

  Amanda smiled. My, he was quick-tempered. Could she always make him mad so easily she wondered, tilting her head.

  'Too high, eh?'

  'A damn sight too high. I say one hundred dollars.'

  'Fine' she replied instantly, amiably.

  Mac stared at her a long moment, reading the laughter in her eyes. Slowly relaxing until the glimmer of a smile touched his lips.

  'I ought to spank you.'

  'Doesn't sound like fun. I'll read the agreement tonight and bring it up tomorrow. I'm tired and want to eat and go to bed.'

  'All right. Fair enough. I'll be home in the morning.'

  ' Thanks again for bringing me home. I guess I'm going to have to get a car or something. This place is just too far to walk to town for everything.'

  'Yes. Before I forget, Elizabeth instructed me to invite you for dinner next Wednesday. She's having a few people in and wanted you to join them.'

  'Where does she live?'

  'Not too far from here. I can give you a lift. John-Michael and I are going, too. No trouble.'

  Amanda nodded, certain Mac would not have offered if it were any trouble.

  'Do you have a, uh ... dress?' he asked.

  'Yes, of course.' She gave him an exasperated look. 'Don't you worry, I won't let your aunt down. What time?'

  'About seven. We'll be by a little before.'

  'That’ll work. Tell John-Michael hi for me, will you?'

  'Yes.' Mac turned, pulled his hat down firmly and opened the door, pausing to throw a glance back at Amanda. 'Glad you're back, spitfire.'

  'I'll bet,' she mimicked.

  Up early the next morning, Amanda waited until after ten before walking up to Mac's home to give him the signed option agreement. She had read it carefully the night before. It was clear-cut and straightforward: if and when she ever sold the property, in exchange for the $100 Mac would give her, she would give him first right of refusal to buy the property at the then fair market value.

  Amanda saw nothing wrong with it, signed it and was now carrying it to return to Mac. The gravel roadway wound upward through the tall trees.

  Rustlings in the undergrowth and the birds chirping their own melodies reminded Amanda she was not alone on her walk, even though she didn't see another creature. What a pleasant way of life. She liked cities for the cultural advantages they offered, but she loved the country.

  The wooden bridge traversing the creek didn’t seem any more substantial to Amanda than it had before. She walked quickly across it, watching her step. Shaky though it appeared, it was solid and did not move at all under her slight weight. That obstacle behind her, she continued briskly up the drive.

  She was dressed in her inevitable jeans and T-shirt, hair drawn back in a ribbon and glasses firmly in position. Since she had received a reprieve yesterday with Mac picking her up instead of John-Michael, she had decided not to tempt fate. Her disguise, such as it was, was back in place.

  Cresting the last hill, Amanda paused as she again took in the view from the home site. The endless mountains, rising in the distance, a little blurry today. To the left, in the far distance, a stately snow-capped peak rose loftily above the tree line. Amanda gazed out for endless moments, spellbound by the sheer beauty of the vista.

  Slowly, reluctantly, she turned towards the house. It was in a wonderful location. The barn discretely far enough away not to feel like it crowded the open feeling. If it were hers, she'd spend hours on the deck, just staring out over the land. Did Mac ever do that? Did he share any of her feelings about the mountains? Or just take it all for granted, never consciously aware of the sheer beauty, the mighty majesty of the Sierra Nevada range?

  Mac answered the door. There was no loud music blaring this time, only the soft swish of the breeze through the grass and trees.

  'Hello.' His look quickly took in her attire.

  'Hi. I brought the option letter.'

  'Back to mountain dress, I see,' he commented.

  She shrugged. 'It's comfy. Do I come in, or just hand it over to you and leave?' She offered the paper.

  Stepping aside, he opened the door wider. As she passed by, he took the paper, opening it and verifying she had signed. He closed the door, resting back against it, watching Amanda closely.

  She felt her pulse quicken with the sound of the latch. She was in Mac's house on the hill. Alone?

  'Where's John-Michael?' she asked, in what she hoped was a casual tone.

  'Down at the barn. You walked up?'

  'Of course.' She would not be intimidated by his eyes. She took off her glasses and moved to the large window. The view was even better from this position.

  'Thought maybe your friend from the other night might have given you a lift.'

  'Dave? He doesn't live around here.'

  'Did you see him on your trip?' Mac left the door to join her near the window.

  'We traveled together.'

  'I bet you did.'

  Amanda felt the tug at the back of her head, then her hair fell free onto her shoulders. She spun round to find herself very close to Mac. He was dangling the ribbon.

  'Give it back,' she said, her heart starting to pound.

  'Why not leave it down? It looks nice that way.' he said, his fingers already brushing through.

  'It's too hot.' She reached for the ribbon, but he dangled it away from her with his other hand.

  'It's not hot in here. Pleasant, I thought.'

  'Come on, Mac.'

  'Come and get it,' he invited softy.

  Amanda glared at him a moment, then put on a deliberately sweet expression, moving close to him, looking up nicely into his face, eyes blazing. 'Please Mac, give my ribbon to me,' she said as sweetly as she knew how..

  He smiled sardonically. 'How artificial.'

  Moving quickly, he pulled her into his arms, his face blotting out all else as his mouth claimed hers. Amanda was startled, not expecting his embrace. Before she could protest, however, his arms pulled her tight against him, molding her body to his, his lips warm and persuasive against hers, the contact with his body sending waves of desire and longing through her. One touch of his mouth and she was lost.

  As the kiss deepened, Amanda was vaguely aware of Mac's hand in her hair, running his fingers through the long tresses, gently rubbing the nape of her neck. She shivered with delight, a lassitude taking hold, her body growing weak. Gratefully she clung to Mac for support. His hands pulled up her T-shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath it. Slowly his lips moved against hers, his tongue penetrating the moist softness of her mouth, his hands warm and exciting against her bare skin.

  Amanda was floating on waves of sweet pleasure. Her heart began beating heavily in her breast as she grew breathless with the feelings Mac could evoke. She moved closer still, pressing against him, moving easily in his arms as he tilted her head back and trailed kisses down her throat, back to her mouth. His hand
s warm and gentle on her skin, in her hair, rubbing her back, tracing her spine, up and down. Now moving along her ribs, his thumb beneath the elastic of her bra, caressing the swell of her breast. Amanda's arms locked together around his neck as she tried to move closer, to stop the tantalizing touch of his hand, to slow the fire building within her. He held her away, his hands continuing their wanderings, his mouth hot and firm and sweet against hers. The moments floated by.

  Suddenly Mac broke away, pulling his hands abruptly from her. At the same second, Amanda heard a familiar voice.

  'Dad.' John-Michael entered the room from the front door, surprise held him silent only a moment, then a big grin lit his face.

  'Hi, Mandy. I see you’re back.'

  Blushing like a schoolgirl, she tried a weak smile. ‘Hi, John-Michael. Yes, I'm back.'

  She did not look at Mac. In fact, Amanda didn't know where to look. Maybe she could just jump out of the window and end it all.

  Mac moved to his desk and rummaged through some papers. 'I believe I owe you a check.'

  'Wow, Mandy, you must be good!' John-Michael teased, laughing as she blushed again.

  'John-Michael!' Mac's voice was thunderous.

  ‘Yeah?' He was still smiling.

  'What are you doing here?'

  ‘I live here.'

  'Don't get smart. I mean now. I thought you were going to exercise the two horses.'

  'That's why I'm here. Jookie's thrown a shoe. I did exercise the bay.'

  'Leave Jookie for the day, then.'

  'I planned to, until he got another shoe. I came up for lunch.'

  Amanda put her glasses back in place and retrieved the ribbon, tying back her hair as she turned her back on the two males and looked out of the window. Her eyes were blind to the view, however. She was embarrassed to be caught in such circumstances. She should never have been such a willing participant. She could still feel Mac's hands on her, her breath coming more quickly at the remembrances. She hadn't felt like this before.

  How funny John-Michael must view them. His Dad and the new neighbor. She smiled a little. High drama it was not. Living on a ranch, he wouldn’t be unaware of the physical aspects. For a moment, Amanda wished she was unaware of them. Mac was damnably attractive. She took a deep breath.

  'Here you go.'

  Turning, she saw Mac standing several safe feet away, check extended.

  Suppressing a smile, she reached for it, scanned it. One hundred dollars.

  'Thank you.' She risked a quick look to his face; it was closed. 'I will remind you, I don't plan to sell any time soon.'

  'I know. Maybe you'll change your mind.'

  'I'll come for a lesson today or tomorrow, if it's all right,' John-Michael said.

  'Fine. Whenever. I'll be home or at the creek.'

  She folded the check and stuffed it into her jeans' pocket.

  'Do you want a ride home?' Mac asked, still standing several feet away.

  It was tempting. Maybe he would come in when they reached her house--- 'No, it's a nice walk. Downhill, too, this time.'

  'See you later, Mandy,' John-Michael said.

  'Bye, John-Michael, Mac.' She left, head held high.

  ***

  It was Sunday afternoon before John-Michael appeared. Amanda heard the horse and went to greet him when he arrived.

  'Hi.'

  'Hi. I hope it is convenient for a lesson,' he asked.

  'Sure.'

  Joining her on the deck, he seemed more unsure of himself than before.

  'Before we start, I'm sorry if I was out of line teasing the other day. Dad gave me hell for it,' John-Michael said, fingering his guitar awkwardly.

  'No problem. Your dad over-reacted. He shouldn't have said anything. I knew you were teasing.'

  'He's been like a bear with a sore head these last few days. Worse than before.' He gave her a sly look. ' You wouldn't like to come up and charm him out of it, would you?'

  'Watch it, John-Michael, or no more lessons. I irritate your father as much as you say you do, if not lots more.'

  ‘Didn't seem like it the other day.'

  'John-Michael!'

  'Okay, I get it. I've practiced while you were gone. See if I've improved.' He sat down on one of the frayed porch chairs, put his guitar in place, and began playing. Amanda could see a definite improvement. It was heartening for a teacher to have such an apt pupil.

  'You’re doing very well.' She spoke warmly when he had finished. 'Let's continue on.'

  She taught him more chords, new timing and wrote out several new songs to practice. She showed him how to read music, though what they’d practiced so far had been from familiarity.

  When he was leaving, John-Michael paused. 'You ride, don't you?'

  'Sure do.'

  'Want to go on a picnic tomorrow with me? I know a nice field where we can eat. It has a nice view. I thought of sort a way to say thank you for all you’re teaching me.'

  'I'm a sucker for nice views and good companionship. I'd like to go. Shall I come late morning?'

  'Yes, or I can bring a horse here.'

  'No, I'll walk up, meet you there. What shall I bring?'

  'Nothing. I'll fix the lunch. Thank you for the lesson. Thanks for all the lessons.'

  'You're welcome, John-Michael. I'll see you tomorrow.'

  She waved to him as he rode away, his words from earlier echoing in her head. So Mac was in a bad temper, was he? Disappointed at the interruption? Amanda frowned. If he were, why not come to see her? He certainly knew where she lived. Maybe John-Michael was exaggerating, or maybe Mac was only upset at being caught dallying with Timber's resident hippie. She had better get that cleared up. But how? Just come out and say, I'm not a some unemployed ne'er do well. I'm a country singer and make tons of money and am known all over the country? Hardly. She'd wait until it came up casually, naturally, in conversation.

  CHAPTER NINE

  John-Michael, bulging saddle-bags slung over one shoulder, led the way from the big house to the barn the next morning when Amanda arrived. The barn was large, with lofts towering above the stalls, hay from last winter still remaining. When the summer's crop was in, the loft would again be filled to its rafters, with enough hay for feed all winter.

  'Jessie's a good one.' John-Michael stopped beside a stall, looking over the rail at the brown mare gravely staring back. One white streak blazed down her face. 'I'll saddle her for you.'

  Amanda took a deep breath, savoring the mingled scents of hay, horse and manure. It brought back a hundred-and-one memories. She’d grown up on a ranch in Colorado. Her parents still ran the place. While cattle was their main focus, one couldn’t ranch without horses. She’d spent half her life before making it big on the back of a horse.

  'I can manage, if you show me the tack.' She had ridden since she was five.

  'Sure. Here's a halter. We can take them to the rail near the tack room, less distance to carry all the gear.'

  'A man after my own heart,' Amanda said easily. 'Lead on.' She competently put the halter on the docile mare, snapped on a lead line and opened the stall.

  John-Michael brought out his chestnut and led him to the opposite end of the barn from where they had entered. Amanda followed, through the large opening, then to the left. Immediately adjacent to the barn was the tack room, a hitching rail before it. Tethering the horses, John-Michael showed Amanda where the tack was. In only minutes, both were busy saddling the horses.

  'Oh, oh,' John-Michael said softly. 'Here comes trouble.'

  'What?' Amanda looked up as Mac rode into the yard, stopping behind John-Michael's horse, dispassionately regarding them.

  'Hi, Dad,' John-Michael said.

  Mac nodded, his eyes on Amanda.

  She licked her lips, conscious of his regard, and continued her activity, feeling suddenly awkward and clumsy.

  'Going riding?' Mac asked.

  'Yes. Thought I'd show Mandy around. Have a picnic up near the point.'

  'I see.'
Mac continued to watch them. The silence stretched out endlessly.

  Amanda finished first, but was in no hurry to draw attention to the fact. Before John-Michael was ready, however, Mac spoke again.

  'Mind if I join you?'

  John-Michael looked up in surprise, then pleasure filled his face. 'Sure Dad, glad to have you.' He paused. 'I guess we have enough food for three.'

  'I won't eat much,' Mac promised, his gaze still on Amanda.

  'Oh, I'm sure there's plenty.' John-Michael was ready. He led his horse away from the rail and mounted. Mac remained where he was, watching Amanda.

  'Need any help?' he asked. 'You mount from the left.'

  She threw him a scathing look. 'I know.'

  Leading her horse a few steps from the rail, she double checked the cinch, and mounted. It had been a year or more since she had last ridden, her last visit home to Colorado. But one never forgot. She loved riding, and wondered suddenly why she had not done much of it in the last few years. The pressures of work were not so demanding she could not have spared some time for riding. Not that riding in some prissy arena would be the same as riding the range.

  'Oh, yes. You're a ranch gal, I forgot. That cowboy hat you wear should remind me,' Mac murmured, drawing up beside her as they left the barn yard and began descending along a trail that skirted one of the pastures. John-Michael was in the lead.

  'I was raised on a cattle ranch in Colorado.'

  'Gave it up for the carefree work free life in San Francisco, eh? Ranching’s hard work.'

  'I'm not against hard work . ..' she began. Was now the time to tell him what she did, why she had taken her trip? He interrupted and the moment was gone.

  'As long as it's someone else's and you can just sit around and make beautiful music.'

  'Some people like music,' she snapped.

  'Sure, but for entertainment and relaxation once their work is finished for the day.'

  'Someone has to make it for other people to enjoy.'

  'Hey, you two, come on.' John-Michael was a dozen yards or more ahead, turned in his saddle. 'I thought you wanted to see the place, Mandy, not fight with Dad.'

  Amanda urged her horse forward, catching up.

  'Yes, I do. Sorry, but your father ...' She shook her head.