“The water complex is right over the hill,” he said. “Onward, driver.”
The Gator jerked at her first unsuccessful attempt to finesse the accelerator. Andy crossed himself. David quietly muttered, “Our Father, which art in heaven.” Rio jerked the accelerator again, purposely, and laughed so hard she snorted. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been part of such unabashed and genuine teasing. The lightness threatened to lift her right out of the seat.
The water complex was a massive pond with crazy banks, beachlike edges, and jumps of different heights placed all around the sides. In the middle of the water stood a jump built to look like a suspension bridge. The whole thing was probably a hundred feet in diameter. Rio stopped where David indicated and sat back.
“Now, this jump is intimidating.”
“Nah,” he replied. “Not from the back of a horse.”
“You said that far too casually.” Rio climbed out of the seat. “What do we do here?”
“Make sure the log jumps haven’t come loose. Check the banks, make sure the reveting is tight. Then we can go back for late lunch.”
“I’m all for that,” she said.
“You’re a natural ranch hand, aren’t you?” he asked. “We’ve been out here a long time with only water to drink. Not a peep or complaint from you.”
“Why does this surprise you?” she challenged. “Because I’m a wimpy girl?”
“Precisely.” He wrinkled his nose in a scowl.
“Chauvinist. Come on. Tell me what to hold.”
As it turned out, only one of the jumps needed shoring up, a four-foot-diameter tree trunk set into the edge of the pond and held in place with a huge frame of railroad ties. One of the giant lag bolts holding the frame tight had loosened, and the log had rolled out a couple of inches leaving a gap right where a horse would take off to jump over it and into the water.
“Horse steps in that gap and he’s a goner,” Andy said.
“We can winch it tight with the Gator, hold it in place, and see if we can reach the bolt from underneath.”
“If not, it’ll take a little more effort. We’ll have to pull the log out and reset the framing.”
David gave his temple a rub, the first sign of stress Rio had seen all afternoon. “Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that,” he said. “That’s a daylong job and no mistake.”
The log pulled tight easily, and David stretched out on his back, half under the log to reach the bolts. Rio stared as his shirt rode up to expose his navel and his jeans dragged down to taunt her with the trail of hair disappearing beneath the fly. His beautiful, long legs, sexy and strong in breeches, looked equally tantalizing in his work jeans.
“Bloody Nora!” He cursed suddenly from his burrow, and Rio sputtered. “I can’t reach the bolt head with my whacking great hand.”
He made a few more contortions that lifted his hips, twisted his torso, and only served to tighten Rio’s gut and dry out her mouth completely. When he finally inched his way free, he let his head flop back on the ground and blew a sigh through his lips.
“Want to try it, mate?” he asked Andy.
“I will. My hand isn’t any smaller than yours, though.”
“Let me try.” Rio shrugged. “My hand’s smaller.”
“It’s a bit dank under there.” David sat up and grunted to a stand. “Back of your shirt’ll get dirty.”
“Oh, well, then, forget it.” She shot him an evil look.
The underside of the log smelled of wet moss and mold, but she ignored it and groped for the bolt with her fingers. Hefting David’s crescent wrench, she wrangled the jaws around the nut and gave it a turn. It spun loosely. After five or six rotations she finally felt it grip, two more and it tightened. With a last hard grunt and twist, she got it as tight as she was able.
“I think I’ve got it,” she called.
Once she stood next to the men, she surveyed the jump. The gap had disappeared.
“Nicely done, love. You just saved us a huge job.”
“Yay me.” Pride expanded inside her. “I hope I got it tight enough.”
David took her hand and led her to the top of the jump. He bounced up and down on the broad barked surface and got her to join in. “It feels perfect.”
Rio jogged in place beside him, grinning, until her foot came down on the very edge of the jump. With a screech she headed off the log. Strong, quick hands found hers, but her balance was too far gone. She landed butt-first in the water and screeched again as it closed around her chest.
David landed on his hands and knees beside her, the splash harmonizing with his yelp. The water would only have been thigh-high standing, but his flight position sent his face for a full dunk. When he erupted back up, he gasped and shook his soaked bangs out of his face.
“Blast!”
He looked like an affronted cat made to take a bath. Rio covered her mouth. His shirt, now plastered to him, outlined his pecs and flat masculine nipples. He wiped his face and slicked back his hair with fingers that flexed and showed off the ridges of tendons and veins in strong and sexy hands. What would they feel like slicking the water off of her? She didn’t even recoil at the thought. He was just too beautiful for her, or any woman, to feel guilty about ogling. When he looked at her, still on her rear in the brownish water that smelled of mud and rain, his eyes widened.
“You’re all wet,” he said.
“Yeah, but your face is all wet.”
He turned to her on his knees, the water rising to just cover his crotch. Without warning he scooped his hands through the ripples and splashed a micro-tsunami into her face. “And now yours is, as well.”
“Oooooh!” She stood swiftly and shoved a wave back at him.
Moments later he was on his feet, and she tackled him around the knees, plopping him right back down. He grasped her jeans, and it was her turn to land flat on her face. Uproarious laughter made her gulp at the exact wrong second and she inhaled a snout full of water.
Choking and gagging, she staggered to her feet and bent over, hands on her thighs. She held up a hand in surrender when he came toward her.
“You okay, there?”
“N-no.” She couldn’t catch her breath for laughing through her aching lungs. “You, you, tried to drown me.”
“Right. Well, I can give you some mouth-to-mouth if that’ll make up for it.”
A clanging from outside the pond made them both look up. Andy banged the wrench lightly on the front grill of the Gator. “I don’t wanna see mouth-to-mouth!”
“Not even to save her life?”
“If she’s in that much danger, I’ll do it,” Andy said. “Don’t trust you.”
David grasped her hand and started for the bank. Still wheezing, Rio let him drag her onto the grass.
“What was that about?” Andy asked.
Warm, sweet, sunshiny air sent shivers of delight through Rio’s body. She hadn’t realized just how hot and sweaty she’d gotten working in the sun. It felt glorious now.
“Just a bit of a swim.”
David finger-combed his hair again, pulled out the front of his green T-shirt, now nearly black with the water, and twisted the excess from it.
“Felt nice. Sure you don’t want to try it, too?” Rio coughed up the last of the water, following David’s lead and wringing out her shirt.
“Don’t think so. You two look like drowned puppies.”
“Well, then, perhaps we’ve finished this job for now.”
“Do you want me to drive us home?” Rio started for the Gator. “I’ll go fast enough to dry us off.” She brushed a leaf from the top of David’s head.
“You two sit in the back.” Andy brushed past her and climbed behind the wheel. “Me and my wooden leg are driving back.”
“WHERE HAVE YOU two been?”
Stella met them in the kitchen fifteen minutes later, fussing as if she’d had the entire county looking for them.
“Had a little run-in with the water complex,” Da
vid said. “No worries, though. We fixed the prelim log.”
“You’re sopping.”
“Have you only just noticed?” He toed off his paddock boots.
Rio kicked off her squishy tennis shoes and pulled off her socks. David followed suit. They both rolled up their hems, the denim heavy and disgusting. She stared at David’s feet with their straight, even toes. Good gosh, was there nothing about him that was ugly?
“David!” Kate entered the room and stared.
“Hullo, Katherine,” he said. “Fancy a swim?”
“I most certainly do not.”
“Kate, pet, run and fetch some towels out of the bath,” Stella directed.
“Don’t be daft, Mum. We’re perfectly capable of making it to our rooms.”
“And drip on the wood floor? Don’t you be daft, young boyo. Hang on.”
David rolled his eyes at Rio, who considered ignoring his mother and traipsing directly through the precious kitchen. But Rio was a guest. David was the one who needed to stand up and walk through his own home—nasty wet or not—but so far he didn’t counter his mother either.
Kate reappeared with an armful of fluffy blue and green towels. Stella took one and made for Rio like she was approaching a child after a bath. Out of the corner of her eye, Rio saw Kate do the same to David. Her stomach clenched as Kate lifted the towel and began to rub David’s head.
“Off with that shirt,” she said to him.
“Here, here, love.” Stella wrapped a towel around Rio’s head, as well, blocking her view and keeping her from seeing whether David complied with Kate’s directive. “Whatever possessed you to climb in the water jump?”
After a vigorous toweling Rio finally found air to speak. “We more fell in. We were testing how solid the log was and I slipped. David rescued me.”
“But she wouldn’t let me give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, more’s the pity.” David’s voice came muffled through his own towel.
“David, really, how rude is that?” Kate sounded imperious for the first time. “What a chauvinist.”
“Am I? Well, Rio, I apologize.”
“Not a problem.” She started to giggle as Stella draped a towel around her shoulders, then bent to squeeze her pant legs with another. “Andy offered, and I turned him down, too.”
“I see.” Kate arched a brow. “Are we quite well then?”
The royal We? Rio held in a burst of laughter with effort, nodding but not daring to reply.
“All right.” David pulled Kate up from where she squeezed the excess water from his hems, as well. “We’re perfectly fine, and we won’t drip too much on the floors. We just came in to change and find something to eat. I’ve got three lessons to teach this afternoon, and then we’ve got some of the kids staying to paint a few stadium fences.”
He turned to Rio. She noticed with relief he hadn’t removed his shirt. She had the completely unreasonable desire that Kate not be the first of them to talk him into stripping.
“What say, my girl? How are you with a paintbrush?”
“I’ve used a few.” Warmth filtered through the dampness of her clothing at his attention, but then he turned to Kate, as well.
“And you? Did you bring anything you can slum in to help paint?”
“I can find something.”
“Good. Mum?”
“I’ve painted more fences in my time than you’ve jumped,” she teased. “I’ll paint you all into a corner, mark my words.”
“A painting party it is then.”
He stepped around Kate. Rio followed him, not quite as buoyant since he’d included Kate in his invitation. He didn’t look at either her or Kate as he led the way out of the kitchen. But as she followed she couldn’t help but notice Stella narrow her eyes.
Great, Rio thought. Just peachy. David’s mother hated her.
Chapter Seventeen
* * *
RIO HOBBLED THROUGH her first two days at The Loon Feather, stiff as old leather after David took her, Bonnie, and Kate riding following the painting marathon. They had jump standards and rails in rainbows of amazing, bright colors, but Rio only knew that pain was back with a vengeance.
The only thing that gave her pleasure was Kate being in the same world of hurt. Such pettiness also caused guilt since Kate was perfectly nice. It was just that Stella wanted to make sure David remembered how nice.
Tuesday afternoon, once the town regulars were gone and a local book club had settled in with pie—from The Bread Basket across the street—Claudia pulled Rio into Bud’s Booth with a cup of coffee and two cookies.
“What do you think now that a few days are under your belt?” she asked.
“I really like it.” Her reply was honest.
“You’re doing such a good job. Do you think you’re ready to work on your own tomorrow?”
“Do you think I can handle it?”
“I have no doubt. I also have another favor to ask.”
“Sure.”
“This weekend is the Wiener Feed Fund-raiser for the library. The one we’re using the crazy hot dog car for. I’m hoping you might be willing to take a shift selling hot dogs each day. I’ll take one and Karla will take one, but my sister has to watch her youngest granddaughter again.”
“I’m happy to help.”
From the entryway, Lester let out his wolf whistle announcing guests. Rio smiled when she reached the entryway and found Bonnie beside Dawson, with a kid-on-Christmas-morning grin on her face.
“Hi, Rio! We’re here to meet some friends.”
“Hi, Bons. Dawson. Come on in. Still look like rain out there?”
“Yeah. The clouds are getting darker.”
She settled them at the largest table where their friends could join them and took their drink order. She didn’t know if this constituted a date or if they were just early to a group gathering, but she was happier than she’d have believed she could be to see her sister hanging out with a boy.
By the time Rio was ready to leave for the day, a contingent of eight Kennison Falls teens had gathered. They were an innocent-looking bunch and yet typical teens. Bonnie stood out slightly, her complexion one shade darker than the others, her eyes so wide and slightly exotic, but somehow she fit beside Dawson with his thick sable hair and hooded brows like they’d been a planned pair. Bonnie threw back her head and laughed, sucked on her malt straw, and looked happier than Rio had seen her in a long time. For a brief moment the events of the past two weeks seemed worth it. Maybe, if Bonnie got a few tastes of what normal felt like, she’d reach adulthood without too many scars after all.
Rio left to her sister’s surreptitious wave good-bye and Claudia’s wish for luck the next day. Outside, the August heat wave hanging ahead of the coming thunderstorm left beads of sweat on her forehead and between her shoulder blades as she walked to her car a block from The Loon. She had barely unlocked the door when she heard her name—in a shriek that chilled her damp skin.
She turned. Bonnie tore down the sidewalk toward her, hair flying.
“Rio!” she sobbed when she reached the car. “Look. Oh God, he found me.”
She held out her cell phone and Rio read the message.
It’s been a long time, chica, and you haven’t taken time to let me know you miss me. Hope you aren’t finding new boyfriends while we are apart. Text me. Tell me you can’t wait to see me on your doorstep. Your Heco.
“Oh Bonnie.”
Rio’s heart lodged in her throat. She didn’t know why Hector had waited until now to contact Bonnie on her phone. She’d prayed he’d lost her number and Paul had removed it from his phone.
Bonnie threw herself into Rio’s arms. “Don’t let him find us.”
“He doesn’t know where we are, Bons, I promise.”
“I didn’t used to be afraid of him, but now I am.”
“It’s all right if you’re afraid. It keeps you smart. Look, give me your phone for a little while. I’m going to visit the police chief.”
&n
bsp; “I don’t want to text him back.”
“Absolutely not.” Rio released her sister. “I want you to forget about Hector for now. You have new good friends, so go on back to them and continue having a good time. You’ll be fine.”
Bonnie straightened and brushed her hands roughly over her stained cheeks.
“I’m sorry I panicked,” she said. “It’s the first he’s used my phone, and it freaked me out.”
“Hey. I’m freaked out, too. I’m worried that he’s using Paul’s phone, but we haven’t actually heard from Paul.”
“I hope he’s okay.”
“He’s fine. He’s just being an idiot.” Or so she hoped. “Look, the police are going to find Hector eventually. Until then, you were right the other night when you said we should just stay here for a while. School starts in a little over two weeks. I’ll find out what it will take to transfer you here.”
“Really? Oh Rio, thank you. I’ve been so worried about going back to South.”
“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to worry.” She took a steadying breath and gave Bonnie an encouraging smile. “Go back. Can Dawson get you home?”
“Yes. If he doesn’t think I’m a complete freak for running out of the restaurant over a text message.”
“He won’t. You’ll figure out what to tell him.”
She got one last hug from her sister, who then headed back to the haven of friends. That’s when Rio began to shake.
“I NEED TO see Chief Hewett,” she said five minutes later to Faith at the station desk, who picked up her phone, spoke a few words, and hung up. “You can go right to his office,” she said. “Down the hall and first door on the left.”
A shiny brass sign left of that door read “Tanner P. Hewett, Chief of Police.” The chief looked up before Rio could knock.
“Good afternoon, Miss Montoya. Come in.”
Beauty and the Brit Page 18
