Beauty and the Brit

by Selvig, Lizbeth

  She shoved the ungracious thought aside. Before the fire she hadn’t had a bad life. It hadn’t been easy, but there had been good nights with Bonnie and Paul and friends. When they’d prided themselves for making it. On their own.

  “I’ve been watching you. You’re a natural on that horse.”

  “Me?” At that silly compliment, her mood soared. “I’m not doing a dang thing. Tully’s doing all the work. Bonnie—she’s the one. Not even using a big, safe cowboy saddle.”

  “Ah.” He lowered his voice. “But here’s where my eye is more practiced. Bonnie’s doing great, and she’ll learn to be a good rider, but if you watch closely you’ll see the stiffness in her shoulders and how she’s leaning a little forward and clutching on the reins for balance. That’s all perfectly normal new rider stuff.”

  “I guess.” Rio did see.

  “You can’t see yourself, of course, but feel how loose your lower back is? How easily your knees can move out from the saddle?”

  She flapped her knees like wings. David grinned. “You aren’t asking him to do much of anything yet, but you’re not getting in his way either. You’re a born cowgirl.”

  “Easy in a big, safe saddle.”

  “No, that’s not it. You’re not afraid. You’re listening to the horse.”

  She let the compliment settle around her, accepting it for what it was—something she’d never before experienced.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To the far end of the state park. Butte Glen is just a mile from town. There’s a secluded spot not really meant for camping, but we know the rangers and have unwritten permission to be there. The public isn’t allowed, but local hikers and riders can go if they know about it. It’s a nice spot a little over an hour away. I think they brought drinks and snacks.”

  “Ugh.” Rio wrinkled her nose. “I’ve done nothing but eat all day.”

  “Too right.”

  The ride to the secret spot passed in a delightful haze. The teens, all of them Jill’s students except for Dawson, chattered like squirrels. Rio did as David directed and let herself enjoy the serene ride through fields and woods. Once again the lack of concrete and overhead electricity struck her as almost magical and solidified the knowledge that moving from the city permanently one day was the right dream for her. It would take longer now, but somehow, at this moment, she still believed it could happen.

  They dismounted in a clearing with trees scattered through the space to make tethering spots for the horses. David showed her how to tie a quick-release knot with the halter rope Tully wore beneath his bridle. The number of straps, ropes, reins, and buckles had Rio’s head spinning, but David promised she’d get it straight before she knew it.

  “How do the legs feel? The first time you spend an hour on a horse it doesn’t matter if you’re an athlete or a couch potato, your muscles are gonna yell at you.”

  She moved away from Tully’s side and laughed. Nothing hurt, but her legs performed as if they’d been tied around a barrel for a day. “I see what you mean. Am I walking funny?”

  “Not yet.”

  “How comforting.”

  The kids formed a haphazard circle around a well-used fire pit. Rio eased onto the grass not far from Jill, noting Bonnie had snared a spot right next to Dawson, but she clearly wasn’t the only one who saw his raw, youthful sex appeal, and Dawson laughed and flirted with ease. He was Kim’s stepbrother and that was really all Rio knew. She pried the fingers of concern loose from her mind. If there was a safe place to flirt, this was it.

  David, who’d disappeared momentarily into the woods, returned with his arms full of wood. He winked when he got to the fire pit and let the bundle tumble to the ground.

  “I happen to know where we keep a secret stash of approved firewood.”

  “David’s our chief fire builder,” Jill said. “He can actually make flame from sticks, but we let him use a match.”

  “You really, really were a Boy Scout?” Rio asked.

  “Really, really.”

  “He was an army Boy Scout.” Jill patted him on the shoulder. “Tell her.”

  A slight shadow flickered through David’s eyes, and he shot Jill a semi-dirty look. “She thinks it’s a big deal,” he said. “I acted as my unit’s survival expert, but we all learned how to survive over there.”

  “Over there?”

  “Iraq. Most of the time we were in Basra. Occasionally we’d send patrols out into the desert. We all knew how to build fires. Not a big deal.”

  Something about the casual way he dismissed the topic while deftly setting up tinder and kindling for a fire belied a more serious truth. His actions appeared instinctive, as if building a fire were a sport he’d trained for just like his riding. When he had a log cabin shape around the center, he pulled a small box of stick matches from his pocket, struck the match head, and gently set the flame into his pile of dry leaves and small branch tips. They flared. David cupped his hands and blew gently, urging the brand-new fire to catch the slightly larger twigs.

  Rio stared a moment at his pursed lips, swallowed, and turned away.

  What was wrong with her? She was letting David scramble her nerve center wherever they went. He still wore jeans and the button-down shirt. Now the top two buttons were undone, and as he brushed down the fabric to get rid of the wood residue, Rio caught a glimpse of smooth skin dusted with dark hair. He thwarted her attempt to look away again by stepping from the little blaze and taking a seat beside her.

  “Ta-da,” he said. “Grog make fire.”

  An unladylike snort escaped her, causing him to grin. “Impressive,” she said.

  “I should hope so.”

  Jill appeared with two small plastic cups. “Here. We smuggled in the newest bottle of wine from that vineyard west of the cities.”

  “A vineyard in Minnesota?” Rio took the cup.

  “Surprisingly, there are quite a few,” Jill said.

  “Got a white and a red.” Chase came up behind Jill with two uncorked bottles. “Which for you, Rio?”

  “Ah, white. Please.”

  “Red for me.” David held up his cup.

  “Kim’s mom sent hot chocolate for the kids,” Jill added. “It’s decadence all around tonight.”

  “What’s the occasion?” Rio took a sip of the wine and swirled it in her mouth as if she knew what she was doing. It had a sweet bite to it. “Nice. It tastes icy, like the grapes shivered for a while.”

  That garnered laughter.

  “Occasion?” Jill looked at the other three and they all shrugged. “You and Bonnie are as good a reason as any.”

  “Excellent occasion.” Chase raised his glass. “To Rio and Bonnie. Welcome to the infamous Bridge Creek Stable trail rides.”

  “And to Minnesota wine at the end of the summer.” David raised his cup.

  “And, to a huge thank-you,” Rio added, something she’d likely not have done if she hadn’t already been buzzy and warm from the wine at dinner.

  She sipped and let the moment overwhelm her. Chase had always been someone to look up to, not a peer. Jill was a blond-haired, brown-eyed beauty who made Rio’s red-haired, dark-skinned coloring look like something out of a comic book—the kind of person Rio might detest if she wasn’t one of the nicest women on the planet. And here they all were, accepting her as an equal. If nothing else, the abundance of wine helped dispel the disbelief.

  The girls and the dogs started a silly game of hide-and-seek with Dawson, and Rio watched for a few minutes, more than bewildered. Dawson was seventeen, Bonnie and Kim each sixteen, Becky, and Deena just fourteen. In Minneapolis, Dawson would have been far too cool for such ridiculous behavior, and the girls wouldn’t have been caught dead tossing leaves at one another and darting in and out of the woods. In and out between cars as they cheated traffic on Lake Street, maybe.

  She shook the negativity out of her mind and tried to revel in the reality of kids playing something wholesome in a place that wasn’t c
rime-ridden.

  A shriek of fright ground the game and all conversation to a halt. Becky Barnes, a darling, round-faced girl with a swath of bright purple in her hair, dashed out of the woods, her hand on her chest. “God, he scared the crap out of me,” she swore.

  The uniformed figure followed Becky into the open and a pall slammed over the little party. Chief Tanner Hewett stopped and stared as if he’d stumbled upon a woodland orgy.

  “I’m looking for Arionna Montoya. Seems I’ve found her.”

  Angel barked twice, wagged her little black-and-white tail and sat expectantly in front of the chief. He ignored her. Roscoe and Fred each gave a woof. Dawson grabbed the golden.

  “I’ll start by asking what you’re all doing here breaking at least six laws I can see without taking another step.”

  “Good evening, Officer.” David stepped forward first, his voice of reason firmly in place.

  Rio’s stomach churned from where it had sunk to her toes. What dire thing would make the authorities come all the way out here after her? Even if they’d found Paul or Hector, they could have waited until she was home. Unless someone was dead . . . But then why was the man carping on about rules? Her mind whirled.

  “We’re just having a little outing with our students,” David continued. “They worked hard all day and this is a nice way to relax.”

  “By trespassing on non-equestrian designated trails, having a fire in an unauthorized area, and allowing dogs to run off leash.” He pointed at several of the pop cans scattered by the fire. “Littering. Any alcohol?”

  David’s eyes turned flinty even though his voice lost none of its calm. “Chief Hewett, I believe you’ll find that once we leave there’ll be no trace we were ever here. The park rangers’ office has full knowledge we use this spot on occasion.”

  “A lot of things around this town got blessings they shouldn’t have. If I let you party here, I’ll have to let anyone who wants to party here. This is not a campsite. I need to ask you to leave.”

  “Chief, come on.” Chase moved in beside David. “Many years of goodwill don’t have to be destroyed by a hasty decision. This is a safe place for us to bring the kids and the horses for very short periods of time. It’s been going on for ten years without incident. I promise you, we don’t cause trouble.”

  “You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

  “I’m sure from here now.” Chase held out his hand. “Dr. Chase Preston. I started the new clinic south of town.”

  Hewett nodded curtly and shook with equal brevity. “Glad to know you’ll have some influence getting things rounded up here then, Doctor.”

  He swung his gaze to Rio, and something in his superior attitude flipped a switch inside. She stalked toward him and stopped a foot from the badge on his light-blue uniform shirt.

  “You said you came looking for me. The others aren’t doing anything wrong, so ignore them and let’s talk.”

  For an instant Hewett stared in disbelief. The smile that followed wasn’t warm.

  “Very well, Miss Montoya. They found your car, a ’98 Ford Taurus, abandoned in a lot at Fort Snelling State Park. The keys were under the floor mat along with a piece of paper that read, ‘Return to Rio Montoya.’ Any idea how it got there?”

  Her heart slipped into a desperate pounding against her rib cage. “Of course not. I haven’t seen it in nearly a week. What about my brother? It had to have been Paul.”

  “You think your brother abandoned your car?”

  “He was the last one to have it, as far as I know.”

  “Well, the Minneapolis PD has impounded it. They’d like you to come and make an ID.”

  Rio recoiled. If Hector wasn’t in custody, she wasn’t going near the Twin Cities. If he had any kind of eyes on the Taurus, he could follow her to Bonnie.

  “I can describe the car right down to the VIN number,” she said. “I don’t need to see it.”

  “You need to claim it in person if you want it back. And if you’re pressing charges, you’ll have to give a statement.”

  She pressed a thumb and forefinger into the corners of her eyes. She’d been asked about pressing charges when she’d reported the car gone. Having the police pick up Paul would get him off the street for a while. On the other hand, he had taken a car he often used. Minneapolis police had bigger fish to fry.

  “I’m not pressing any charges.” She looked at him directly. “I’m also not coming to Minneapolis until I know Hector Black won’t be following me back here to my sister.”

  Hewett nodded. “All right, Miss Montoya, but I patrolled the inner city of Philadelphia for ten years, so I know how this works. He’s your brother. You’ll protect him. Just remember that when you’re asking us to protect you.”

  She’d seen plenty of altercations between police and gang members. If this guy had been a beat cop on a gang street, he’d not been a popular one. Not with his veiled sarcasm and barely concealed accusations.

  “Chief, do you know my story? I mean, really know it? You haven’t asked once what I need, or even hope for, so please don’t judge me on how I treat my brother.”

  The stoniest angles of the chief’s severe face softened. “Point taken,” he said. “Look, if your friends get packed up and clear out, I’ll forget the violations. And if you’ll come with me for a few minutes to fill out a vehicle description, I’ll send it on to the MPD and see what can be done to get it out of impound. If you pay the fee, perhaps a detective can get it to a safe spot.”

  “Fee?” Rio stared at him. “But it was taken without my consent.”

  “I’m sorry. If you’re filing no complaint, then it’s simply your responsibility. I think it’s only a hundred and fifty or two hundred dollars.”

  “Only—” She cut herself off. She’d undo whatever strides she’d made if she pushed. As annoying as Hewett was, he wasn’t at fault for this. Turning to David, she forced a smile. “I’ll go do this and be right back. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s no way you’re facing this alone,” David said. “I’ll come along.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “You won’t even know I’m there. And you’ll have someone to walk you back.”

  The cruiser stood about three hundred yards through the trees on a wide dirt hiking path. Hewett didn’t speak as Rio wrote out a description of her old burgundy-colored Taurus. She enumerated the dents and rust spots she knew like her own face and noted the license plate and the VIN numbers. They were things you memorized when you lived in a place where car theft wasn’t just something on the news. When she finished, the chief thanked her.

  “If I were to come back in half an hour, you’d be gone, correct?” he added, curtly.

  David nodded without speaking. Hewett got into his car and backed around in a tight circle. Seconds later he was gone. Without warning pure unadulterated anger made Rio’s legs buckle in weakness, and furious tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t even keep her messed-up life away from these people who’d been so kind. Because of her, they’d lost something important to them.

  She bowed her head. In two long strides David wrapped his strong arms around her. Just as he had at the fire.

  “Rio. It’s all right. You were absolutely bloody marvelous.”

  Marvelous? She’d gotten them all in trouble. She jabbed away her tears and lifted her eyes to his. They shone in the low sunlight slanting through the evergreens.

  “I—”

  He stopped her words with his lips.

  All she could do was squeak in surprise before the wine, the emotion, and the softness of his mouth made her go weak in his embrace.

  Chapter Ten

  * * *

  THE SHOCK OF her tongue against his swept away all David’s regrets over the rash action. Hints of wine flavored the kiss and melted in his mouth with a rush of heat and urgency. The slap he expected for his rudeness didn’t come. Instead Rio liquefied in his arms, as unlike the Rio he’d grown to know as anything he cou
ld have made up himself. And almost as soon as her bones went soft, she solidified again and reached into the kiss like it was a life ring.

  A thrill nearly like pain sliced through his lower belly. She scrabbled closer, brushing her breasts, her lower stomach up his body, her fingers pulling at the back of his shirt as she massaged his spine in time to the pulsing exploration of their tongues. Her own sweetness burst through the wine, and she tasted like abstract things—bravery, and seriousness, and searching. Their mouths sipped and sampled until thrills spun into sparks that ignited a timeless reaction.

  She groaned, which only intensified the hardness of his body. He needed to stop, but the moment owned itself. Their exploration lost all boundaries—racing toward unknown territory with willpower in its wake.

  It was Rio who halted it.

  Violently, she tore away and shoved at his chest. They panted at each other, her eyes as wildly bewildered as he felt. The lavender T-shirt she’d worn all day now twisted around her torso and crept up her waist. When had he made such a wreck of that? As she tugged it into place, he caught a flash of color on her side. She covered it too quickly for him to make it out. Another tattoo?

  Another flash to his already-uncomfortable groin.

  What the devil? He’d meant it earlier when he said tattoos never turned him on.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I don’t make a habit of kissing girls who barely know me. I really don’t.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck. His own shirt had been pulled partially free of his jeans. One of the front tails hung loose. The other clung in place by an inch of fabric. “What just happened?”

  “I—I don’t know. You started it.” For an instant her tough, fight-back sharpness threatened to return.

  “I admit it. But I most certainly didn’t plan it.”

  Her posture drooped; her wall stayed down. “I didn’t plan it either. I’m sorry.”

  “Why sorry? It was a bloody good kiss.”

  He tried a smile and attempted to lift her chin so he could study her eyes. The moment between them was definitely gone, however, and she brushed his hand away.