After the tent was up, Ty and Bodie set up the kitchen and got ready to prepare lunch. Libby watched, fascinated by how in sync the two brothers were. Despite their size—they were at least six feet three—they moved with the grace of natural athletes. Which she supposed they were, when she stopped to think about it. Whether on horseback or puttering around camp, they moved with an economy of motion that spoke of years of working together. She set her cup of cocoa on the little table beside her and picked up her camera.
God, they were gorgeous. Shirtless, dressed only in baggy shorts, their bodies were flawless. Except for identical scars over their kidneys. When they turned away from her, she gasped. Suddenly, it all made sense. Their father’s hostility, of which the whole town had been aware. The aversion to having their pictures taken. The extremes they took to keep her away from them with her ever-present camera. Archer’s comment that the twins’ opinion of her had changed when her photographic essay on the Sudanese camps came out. She’d seen those same scars on the conjoined Darfur twins. They were separation scars.
Libby lowered the camera, speechless. Both men were looking at her, studying her reaction.
“I understand now,” she said softly, tears flowing down her face. “If I’d known, I never would have—”
“Hush, baby,” Bodie said, going to her, kneeling in front of her. “We never would have told you.”
Ty took the seat beside her, drying her tears. “Pa was so ashamed. He never let us forget we were freaks. Never missed an opportunity to blame every mistake on that fact.”
“But you weren’t—”
“We didn’t know that then, honey.” This from Bodie. “All we knew was that he hated what we were. That’s why he refused to let Ma have any more kids. Said she was damaged goods, and he wasn’t taking any chances. He made her miserable till the day she died.”
Libby took a deep breath. “No wonder you hated that camera.”
“Yeah,” Ty said, shaking his head. “We were forbidden to shower after gym class. Pa didn’t want anybody noticing we had identical scars. Didn’t want folks to know he’d fathered a couple of circus freaks.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, and that I unknowingly added to your pain.”
Ty tenderly stroked her cheek. “But you healed us too, honey. Those pictures you took were a real turning point for us. And the AP shots of you putting yourself in front of those babies, refusing to let the soldiers get near them. You could have been killed, but you stood your ground and made them back down. How’d you do that?”
Libby shuddered, remembering the encounter. “Latin. They’re very superstitious, so I told them I was a witch, and I rattled out a bunch of random phrases in Latin. Made them think I was cursing them. I told them that if they harmed anyone in that camp, their manhood would shrivel up and drop off.”
Bodie uttered a strangled laugh. “You speak Latin?”
Libby giggled. “I took it as an elective in college, as a lark. I mostly wanted to learn it so I could speak my mind without my mouth getting me in trouble. Who would have thought it would ever become a useful skill?”
“Who, indeed,” Bodie agreed, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “So, how do you say ‘I love you’ in Latin?”
“Ego diligo vos.”
Bodie leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Ego diligo vos,” he murmured.
“I reckon we’re both of the same mind,” Ty concurred.
Panic washed over her with a loud roaring in her head. She felt light-headed and sick to her stomach. This was bad. Very bad. “Haud diligo eram non secui of paciscor,” she whispered. No. Love was not part of the deal.
How had things gotten so hopelessly out of control? She didn’t want these men to love her. She didn’t do love; anyone who knew her knew how she felt about that particular emotion. Hell, she’d avoided it all her adult life, hadn’t she? Had made it very clear when she became involved with someone that it was a temporary situation. She was the female equivalent of an international playboy, and she liked it that way. She traveled to interesting locations, photographed beautiful people and scenery, and then moved on to her next assignment. This situation was no different from any other job she did for the magazine.
Which wasn’t to say she didn’t care for Bodie and Ty. She did, but in a “friends with benefits” kind of way. Not an “I love you” kind of way. And she certainly had no idea that either man would fall for her. Hell, she thought it was just a summer fling. The chance to live out a lifelong fantasy with a couple of hot, macho guys. With their reputations being what they were, how could she ever have imagined they’d develop tender feelings for her?
“Lib?”
Ty’s voice startled her out of her tangled thoughts. She forced her eyes to focus on the earnest faces looking at her.
Oh shit. What have I done? “Eh?” she squeaked.
“I was asking what you said.”
“Oh . . . I, um—” The squawk of a radio interrupted her, and they all turned toward the sound.
“Elizabeth Wild?”
Libby had never been so grateful to see a park ranger in her life. “Yes?”
“The superintendent’s office got a call from your sister. Seems your uncle’s taken a turn for the worse. They’ve taken him to the hospital in Jackson Hole. We’ve got a local chopper standing by if you want to be airlifted out of here. It will take you straight to St. John’s Medical Center.”
“Of course, I . . .” She looked from Bodie to Ty, who both nodded. Tears welled in her eyes again. “Yes. I . . . How long will it take?”
“Pilot’s fueled up and ready to go, ma’am. I figure twenty minutes at the most.”
Libby nodded and rose to her feet. “I’d better get into some dry clothes, get my gear together.”
“You go ahead, honey, me’n Bodie’ll pack up and head back. We’ll see you in a few days.”
Numbness set in as Libby pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a floaty cami top in a blue and white floral print. She stuffed her feet in her worn cowboy boots, shrugged into a cashmere-blend sweater wrap, and grabbed her day pack. Ty was already beginning to pack while Bodie finished cooking lunch.
“Come sit down and eat, Lib. If I know you, a morsel of food won’t pass those lips for the rest of the day.”
Too stunned to argue, she took a seat and accepted the burger he set before her. It probably would have tasted good if she’d been capable of tasting anything. But she’d need her strength for what she was about to face, so she ate and drank the orange juice he set on the table beside her.
“I thought he’d make it,” Libby said when Bodie sat down beside her. “I mean, he looked good at the nursing home. His color was good; he was laughing and joking. I knew he was sick, but I really thought he’d fool us all. How could things change so quickly?”
“I don’t know, baby. Cancer’s tricky that way. One minute you’re in remission, and the next you’re hooked up to IVs in the hospital. Ol’ Walt, he’s been sick now for a few years, and he’s been in this position before. Maybe he’ll fool us again.”
The whop-whop of chopper blades sounded in the distance, and she turned her head toward the sound, squinting to see into the sun. Libby looked back at the beautiful campsite bordering the wide blue river and knew a moment of regret. She would have liked to have had another night with these two wonderful men, here in the wildness that was Yellowstone. She gazed at the expanse of forest marching toward the mountains and knew that she would never look at Wyoming the same way again. She had Bodie and Ty to thank for that. It would be a while before she came home again, but she knew she’d be back one day, and she was grateful for the closeness that had developed between her and Alex.
The chopper set down in the meadow, and Libby hugged her guides. “Thank you. For everything.” Before they could say anything, she shouldered her gear and ran for the chopper. As sad as she was about Uncle Walt, Libby was enough of a realist to understand that she was running from the Cade twi
ns again, only for an entirely different reason this time. While the pilot stowed her gear, Libby buckled herself in for the flight to Jackson Hole. As the helicopter rose into the blue Wyoming sky, she pressed her palm against the clear window and watched until Bodie and Ty disappeared from sight. God, she was such a coward.
Chapter Fourteen
September
Bodie stopped at the mailbox and retrieved the mail before driving up the mile-and-a-half lane to the ranch house. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he parked the truck. The fall issue of Exotic World Travels had arrived. His heart ached as he recalled the last time they’d seen Libby.
They had gone to Walter Wild’s funeral, dressed in their Sunday best, and offered what support their stubborn woman would allow. She’d been pale and drawn, barely able to speak above a whisper as she’d thanked them for coming. What had she thought, that they wouldn’t come? Afterward, back at the Wild Horse Ranch, she was distant and withdrawn, avoiding spending any significant amount of time with them. Frustrating as it was, they gave her the space she seemed to need, keeping away in the hope that she would eventually call them. She never did.
Bodie climbed out of the truck cab and hurried into the house, hollering for Ty. “Ty, get down here; it came in the mail today.” He tossed the mail on the entryway table and went into the living room. Much as he longed to, he wouldn’t open the magazine until his brother joined him. Moments later, he heard the sound of boot heels on the hardwood floors and looked up.
“You’re on the cover. It’s one of the ones she took while you were crossing the Thorofare.” He grinned. “Before you got dunked.”
Ty sighed and sat down beside him. “Well, let’s get it over with.”
Nothing had changed. She still took the most beautiful pictures they’d ever seen. Neither of them could figure out how she did it. They’d all been looking at the same scenery, but somehow, Libby managed to find just the right light, just the right angles, to make the pictures come alive. Burned forest became more than the black carcasses of long-dead trees. Waterfalls sparkled like diamonds. Fields of wildflowers became fairy bowers. Then there were the pictures she’d taken in camp. Ty tending the horses. Bodie grinning at her, up to his elbows in suds as he washed the evening’s dishes. The glow of firelight on their faces as they stared into the campfire as the sun went down. Yellowstone Lake turned molten with the setting sun.
Bodie took in the wounded expression on his brother’s face as Ty studied the one picture of herself that Libby had included in the entire spread. She was sitting in a field of wildflowers, the midday sun reflecting the deep golds of her hair. Flowers bloomed all around her, a riot of color that was somehow diminished by the sheer happiness of her smile.
“I took that picture when we went on that day hike to Eagle Pass,” Ty said. “Why’d she do it, Bodie? Why’d she just take off without a word?”
“She was scared, man. At least, that’s what Alex thinks. She won’t tell her why, just that she had to get back to her life. That people were counting on her.”
Ty scowled. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“I agree, but what can we do about it?”
Ty tossed the magazine on the table and jumped up. “We can by God go and get her, that’s what we can do.”
Suddenly, Bodie’s heart felt lighter than it had for weeks. “You’re damn right we can.”
An hour later, they were packed and headed for Jackson Hole and the first available flight to Denver. From there, they’d change planes for New York City, Libby’s address folded securely in Bodie’s wallet. Alex also wanted her little sister home.
* * *
Libby sighed as she taped shut the last box. Moving was such a pain in the ass, but at least the movers had an elevator to work with, and that cut the cost of the move significantly. That and the fact that she’d packed up her personal items herself. She checked the clock on the microwave. Just enough time to get a shower before Julian, her coworker Thom’s partner, got here with the signed contract and her check. He and Thom had always loved her loft apartment, and while the price they were paying was less than what the place was worth, she was still banking a small fortune, and she had a guaranteed place to stay whenever business brought her back to the city. The boys were overjoyed to own such a beautiful live/work loft in the Village, and Thom was ecstatic that the darkroom was staying. She cued her favorite John Hiatt disk, wicked up the sound on the stereo, and shed her clothes as she headed for the bathroom.
Was there anything better than having stereo piped directly into the shower? She’d have to do some serious renovations on Uncle Walt’s house, that was for sure. She’d need satellite and Internet cable service and . . . What the hell was that racket?
Libby turned off the water and wrapped a fluffy terry-cloth robe around herself. Someone was creating quite the ruckus out in the hallway. Was that Julian yelling? She raced to the door, her wet feet nearly slipping out from under her as the caterwauling escalated. She flipped the locks and jerked the door open and—what the hell?
“Julian? What the fuck?”
There in her hallway were her two cowboys, one of whom had poor Julian pressed up against a wall with a forearm on his windpipe.
“Bodie,” she shouted. “Let him go this instant!”
Ty grabbed her by the lapel of her robe and jerked her to him until they were nose to nose.
“Who the hell is he, Lib? You sure didn’t waste any time replacing us, did you?”
Libby gaped at him. “What? Are you nuts? That’s Julian; he just bought my apartment, you asshole. I’m moving back to take over Walter’s ranch. Didn’t Alex tell you?” She pounded on Ty’s shoulders, and he finally let her go.
“Jesus Christ.” She shoved past Ty and smacked Bodie on the back of the head. “You’re lucky the neighbors haven’t called the police. Turn him loose.”
Julian took a deep gulp of air. “I take it these are your cowboys, Elizabeth?”
“Yes, although I’m not sure I’m ready to claim them after what they’ve done.” She put an arm around Julian, clucking like a mother hen as she led him inside. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”
Julian chuckled as she glared at Bodie and Ty, pointing to the living room. “Go. Sit. Now.” She hurried to the kitchen and got Julian a tall glass of water. “I’m so sorry, darling. Please come and sit down. Should I call Thom?”
“No need to bother Thom at work, sweets. I’m perfectly fine, just a little shaken up. My, they are big, aren’t they?”
Libby glared at Bodie and Ty as they continued to hover nearby. “Yes, they are. It’s a shame the size of their brains didn’t catch up with the rest of their bodies.”
“Libby,” Ty growled. The warning in his tone was clear.
“Don’t you Libby me, Tyler Cade. How dare you show up at my door and manhandle my friends?”
“Now, Libby,” Bodie chimed in, a sheepish grin on his handsome face. “How were we supposed to know he was just a friend?”
She fisted her hands on her hips and scowled. “Maybe by asking? ‘Dude, who are you?’ ‘Why, I’m a friend of Libby’s. I’ve just purchased her apartment for a gazillion dollars so she can move back to Wyoming and be with you two cavemen!’”
Beside her, Julian began to laugh. “Oh, Elizabeth, darling, you are going to have a very interesting life. Just promise me we’ll get an invitation to the wedding.”
Libby shook her head. “Well, it’ll either be a wedding or a funeral, Julian. I’m not sure which at this point.”
“A wedding,” Bodie said, going to her. “Libby deserves her happily ever after.”
“Definitely a wedding,” Ty agreed, slinging an arm around her shoulders. He gave Julian a pointed look. “So, Julian, if you don’t mind seein’ yourself out, I reckon we should get started on the happily-ever-after part right now.”
About the Author
India was born in Melbourne, Florida, when it was still a tiny little town, and was prett
y much raised at the beach. From there her father moved the family to Summerville, South Carolina. He chose South Carolina because Northrup Aviation wanted to transfer him to California, where he figured his three daughters would wind up getting into trouble. As luck would have it, India grew up to be a hippie anyway. At age sixteen she sneaked out of her bedroom window to go to Woodstock. She’d like to say she made it, but she got caught before she ever got out of South Carolina.
India has been married twice—unsuccessfully both times—but the second marriage netted her a beautiful daughter, whom she characterizes as the best human being alive. She’s happily single with no plans of changing her marital status.
India has a B.A. in Forensic Psychology and has been employed in social work for a number of years, working in addiction, community mental health, corrections, and most recently child welfare. She has been a storyteller all her life, a talent she shared with her tween friends in junior high school, regaling them with tales of “dreams” she had about Davy Jones of The Monkees.
India never thought much about publication until she became friends with her pal Sheri Livingston, who administered a Yahoo group for writers. By that time, she’d written her first full novel, a historical western that is a nightmare of point-of-view errors and inconsistencies. That book remains in a tightly sealed box in her file cabinet and will never see the light of day. As she likes to tell her sister, who helped edit the manuscript, “that thing should be dragged out back and shot.”
India enjoys hearing from her readers and can be contacted at [email protected].
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