It was Megan’s turn to laugh. “I didn’t know we were.”
“Psychics, predictions, Farrah—it’s all tied up together in my mind. So, speaking of Farrah, I aired my dirty laundry for you, now how about telling me why there isn’t a tree-hugger husband and a passel of nature-loving kids in your life?”
“Now that was a segue,” Megan said with another laugh.
Josh smiled sheepishly at her. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t too smooth. But I’ve been wondering and smooth or not, I’d still like to know.”
“I’d like to have kids but not a passel. Two kids—that’s all I’ll have so I don’t contribute to the earth’s over population,” she said, purposely omitting an answer to what she knew he was more interested in—her romantic past.
“Not more than two kids. Of course,” Josh said. “But what about the tree-hugger husband?”
Megan’s smile at his persistence was smug. But she decided not to make him work any harder for that answer. “I was engaged until not very long ago. Like you, except it ended before we got to the altar.”
“Who, what, when, where, why?”
“Nosy,” she joked.
“Part of the job, ma’am,” he responded as if that were the only reason for his inquiry.
“His name is Noel Mikeljon and he’s a corporate attorney.”
“A corporate attorney? Didn’t that make him the enemy?”
“It made him unlike most of my close acquaintances, yes,” Megan conceded. “But the corporation he works for is a software company, not a polluter, so he was okay.”
“How’d you meet him?”
“There was a labor dispute and Nissa and I and our folks had joined a group that came out in support of the union. Noel and I literally bumped into each other on the street.”
“You were picketing and he was trying to get to work,” Josh guessed.
Megan had to laugh at his accuracy. “As a matter of fact. But the labor dispute was settled fairly—thanks in large part to Noel—so—”
“You were welcome to bring him back to the re modeled school bus to meet Mom and Dad.”
“Yes,” Megan said with another laugh. “Although the remodeled school bus died about ten years ago and they bought a motor home.”
“But still, one thing led to another…” Josh prompted her to go on.
“One thing led to another and we got engaged.”
“But…”
“But I learned that even if opposites attract, they just don’t mesh in the long run.”
“Meaning?”
“Noel was the poster boy for straight arrows but I thought it was sort of cute. I thought I’d loosen him up and we’d be a good mix.”
“But there was no bending the arrow?”
“You’d think that after a whole lifetime of my family being considered freaks that I would have known better. That I would have known that someone with a closed mind is not likely to open it. But at first he hid how really embarrassed he was by my family—and by me, too, I guess.”
“He was embarrassed by you?”
“Don’t sound so shocked. You were embarrassed by your former fiancée, as I recall.”
“I was embarrassed to be left waiting for her at the altar. And I was embarrassed after that to have to tell people that she did it because her psychic had told her to. Show me anyone who wouldn’t have been embarrassed by that. But I was never ashamed of her, and it sounds to me like that’s really what you’re talking about.”
It was funny but until Josh put it that way, Megan hadn’t thought of it in terms of shame. But now that she did, she realized he was right.
“I suppose embarrassment was just an easier word to swallow than shame, but really, shame is more on the money,” she admitted quietly. “Noel was basically ashamed of me, of my family, of what I think he eventually came to consider lowering himself to be with me.”
“So what was this Noel guy doing anywhere near you under those circumstances?”
“Initially I think dating me made him feel like James Dean. It seemed rebellious. As if I was proof that he had a wild streak or some thing.”
“Because he was going out with you?” Josh laughed as they headed out past the farms and ranches to the west of Elk Creek into the open country side. “So eating organic and re cy cling was this guy’s idea of living on the edge?”
“Some thing like that. At least I was well-outside his circle.”
“And your plan to loosen him up?”
“Failed miserably. Instead what started to happen was a lot of him trying hard to change me. He was subtle about it and it was always couched in what seemed to be a desire just to help me see a better way, but he didn’t like my jewelry or my clothes or my hair—”
Josh took his eyes off the road to look her up and down. “What was wrong with any of that?”
“According to Noel, tasteful pearls, conservative diamonds, or the occasional lapel pin, were all any woman should wear for jewelry. Beads—” Megan held up her left wrist where she wore a string of tan-and-black speckled beads “—were déclassé. My wispy dresses—as he called them—looked like they belonged in a school-yard. And my hair should be worn any way that was smooth—buns, pony tails, French knots, even loose was okay, but he hated it when I twisted it and let the ends spike.”
“Would this have been acceptable?” Josh asked, nodding at her hair.
She’d sectioned the sides and top and pulled each section back to her crown in small tortoiseshell clips.
“No, Noel would have preferred a simple headband.”
Josh leaned slightly toward her, eyes back on the road, and whispered, “I think you look great.”
“Thanks,” she said, and even though the compliment had been offhand it still pleased her.
“So what was the straw that broke the camel’s back?” he asked then. “You couldn’t agree on a wedding dress?”
“It wasn’t only the way I looked that was the problem. He also didn’t want me telling people I was an acupuncturist. He wanted me to say I was in the health-care profession. And there were a lot of other things. He certainly didn’t want me to talk about how I’d grown up. I was supposed to say I was from Wyoming and leave it at that. And I was never to take issue over anything with anyone I met in connection with him even if the person openly dumped raw sewage into the nearest water source and bragged about it.”
“Maybe he wanted a robot, not a woman.”
“Maybe. But believe it or not, he was so subtle, so diplomatic, so much on my side when he said these things that I didn’t really put it all together until we were talking about actually getting married. That was when I finally figured out that he didn’t think we should elope because it would be romantic and spontaneous, he thought we should elope so his family and friends wouldn’t have to meet my folks.”
“Nice.”
“It opened my eyes to what was going on. I’d let myself be convinced that all his helpful hints about my clothes, my hair, my jewelry, what I did and didn’t say, were to protect me from the small-mind ed ness of his friends and family. But the reality of it was that it was Noel who was small-minded, Noel who was embarrassed—no, ashamed of me. That Noel was just trying to protect himself, trying to fit me into that same mold he was in, trying to change who I am.”
“That must have hurt,” Josh said compassionately.
“It definitely hurt. It hurt most because I was so fooled by him. Because along the way I honestly didn’t think he was criticizing me himself. And then, when I had my eyes opened to it, it was such a slap in the face to realize what he thought of me, that it was all so negative. So disparaging. That he was ashamed of me.”
Megan’s voice dwindled off just as Josh pulled from the main road onto a dirt one devoid of all street lights.
He reached over and took her hand from where it rested in her lap and squeezed it comfortingly. “Sounds to me like you got out in the nick of time.”
“Is that how you felt about being left at the
altar? That you got out in the nick of time?”
“Not at that very second I didn’t, no. Or right after. But once I got some perspective, yeah, I started to see that I was better off without someone who would let some thing like a random psychic prediction rule her. Do you regret not ending up with this Noel guy?”
“No,” Megan said without having to think about it. “I’m sorry that he turned out to be the kind of person he was, and that the whole thing was so painful, but I look at not ending up with him as a good thing. Imagine how awful it would have been to marry him, maybe even have a child—”
“Or two.”
“Or two—with him, and then to find out he was ashamed of me and my family.”
“That would not have been a good thing.”
“I just felt so stupid,” she confided in an extremely quiet voice, some thing she hadn’t shared with anyone before.
Josh was still holding her hand and he squeezed it again. “I know all about that,” he commiserated.
Then he let go of her hand so he could turn off the car lights as he slowed their speed to a snail’s crawl.
“Maybe we should call a moratorium on talking about this subject, too,” Josh suggested. “After all, we came out here to unwind, not to rewind.”
“Fine by me,” Megan agreed, curious now about where he was taking her. “What are we doing out here?”
“It’s a surprise. Or maybe it’s nothing. Depends on our timing,” he said in a hushed voice, as if to speak louder would somehow disturb some thing.
They were in the middle of nowhere when he stopped the patrol car and turned off the engine. The only illumination was from the moon and the stars but since it was such a clear night and they’d long since left any artificial light behind, Megan’s eyes adjusted and she could see fairly well.
At least she could see there wasn’t much of anything to see.
On either side of them was flat, open ground. Slightly up ahead was a single, generations-old elm tree, and beyond that was a small pond and a slight rise into the foot hills that would become the Rocky Mountains.
Josh pointed a long, thick index finger at the tree. “That’s our goal. But it’s important that we get to it as quietly as possible. So from here on, only whispers and soft steps.”
He got out of the car, closing the door with infinite care so it made no noise whatsoever. Then he came around to help Megan out and to do the same thing with her door.
Once he had he took her hand again and held a finger to his lips before taking her across the distance to the tree.
Early in its life the trunk of the elm had split into three, forming a triple-pronged lee about two feet from its base. It was in that lee that Josh positioned himself. Then he situated Megan directly in front of him.
When he had her just where he wanted her, he brought both arms around her and pulled her gently backward until she was braced against him and enveloped in the warmth of his big body.
Again that single finger pointed, this time to the pond not ten feet in front of them, as he whispered into her ear, “There’s a herd of wild mustangs that come down here to water most nights. If they don’t catch our scent we’ll get to see them.”
Megan didn’t much care whether or not the horses showed up. It felt so wonderful to be in Josh’s arms, to feel the heat of his breath against her skin and in her hair, to feel the solidity of his honed pectorals behind her back, that nothing else really mattered to her at that moment. As far as she was concerned, even if the horses never appeared, the evening had taken a turn for the better and she merely leaned into Josh and let every pore soak up the sensation of him holding her.
But the mustangs did come.
Only a few minutes later, just as all the stress and tension of the day, of recalling her relationship with Noel and its demise, drained away, the thunderous sound of hooves echoed from a canyon amidst the foot hills, and the shadows and still ness before Megan and Josh suddenly came to life.
Megan counted fourteen horses, each one more beautiful than the last as they slowed to a trot and came to the edges of the pond to drink.
Moon light gleamed off their sleek backs, their powerful haunches, their proud manes. Tails were high. And pure, unfettered energy filled the night air.
Megan and Josh stayed motionless and silent, watching them.
When the horses had their fill of the fresh, clear water, some wandered off to munch early spring grass while others—the colts—played. Fro licked, actually, snorting and butting heads, rearing up on their hind legs to paw the air in a blustery show of prowess.
After a while, two of the mustangs separated themselves from the rest and came nearer to where Megan and Josh were camouflaged by the tree. It was impossible to tell for sure in the dim light, but it seemed obvious that one was a mare and the other a stallion.
Unlike the bravado and rough ness of the colts, these two nudged and nuzzled noses, play fully, shyly at first, then more boldly, but never with the rigor of the younger animals.
“I think he’s wooing her,” Josh barely whispered into Megan’s ear.
But whether it was enough for the stallion to hear, or that the slight movement had drawn his attention, the mustang’s ears perked up and his head tilted in their direction. He froze like that for just a split second, then he lunged sideways away from that spot and his lady-love.
Apparently it was a signal to them all because the mare followed fast on his heels and so did the rest of the horses. Suddenly the whole herd was in motion, a symphony of long, graceful legs carrying dark streaks through the night, back the way they’d come, back into the shadows, into the hills, the sound of their hooves receding until nothing was left but the quiet and still ness again.
“Looks like I blew it,” Josh said then, his voice a normal timbre now that it didn’t matter anymore.
“Maybe they’ll come back,” Megan said even though she knew they wouldn’t. It was just that she was loathe to break the close ness she was sharing with Josh, loathe to lose the warm cocoon of his body.
“Nah, once they’re spooked they’ll stay away,” he said.
But he must not have been any more eager to move from the relative seclusion of that spot than Megan was because he didn’t budge. Instead he stayed there, holding her against him from behind.
“Are you cold?” he asked then, as if that might be the deciding factor.
The three-trunk tree seemed to provide some insulation and that, coupled with Josh’s body, was enough to keep the chill of the night air away. Still though, Megan knew she should say she was freezing so they could go back to his car, back to town, and to their separate homes without anything more happening between them.
But what she knew and what she wanted were two different things….
“No, I’m not cold at all. What about you?” she asked, thinking that maybe he’d have the will power she lacked and that she’d offer him the opportunity to use it.
But rather than exhibiting any signs of it, he said, “Nope. Feelin’ fine. Just fine,” and not only was his tone full of innuendo, his arms tightened around her to pull her even closer against him.
The last of her tension seemed to have fled with the mustangs and all that remained was a sense of utter contentment. Of course she recognized that that was the last thing she should be feeling with Josh Brimley, but her contentment was so complete that she couldn’t make herself care any more than she could make herself push away from him.
And in response to that contentment, Megan let her head rest against his shoulder.
“This is nice,” she said quietly.
“I come out here when I need to get away. To forget about things for a while.”
“It works.”
“I know.”
And maybe what they were both for get ting was that they shouldn’t be doing this.
But there was a deep richness to Josh’s voice that told her that holding her like that was having as much effect on him as it was on her. Which was no sm
all thing as the faint scent of his after shave tantalized her, as her body seemed to melt into his, as her thoughts turned to more than merely standing there….
His thoughts must have been going in the same direction because he kissed the side of her neck then.
His mouth was like velvet as he lingered there, his breath warm and soft. It was nothing really. And yet it was enough to set off a rain of glitter that went all through her as he kissed a path upward, each soft touch of his mouth another infusion of that glitter until, by the time he brought his hand to cup her cheek and turn her head to him, Megan felt as if she were spark ling on the inside.
His mouth came over hers, his lips already parted in a kiss that wasn’t teasing or playful or tentative tonight. A kiss that was serious from the start.
Which was exactly how Megan answered it, parting her own lips in welcome, moving in his arms so she was more accessible, raising a hand to the side of his face.
His tongue began an exploration of the tender inner edges of her lips. Of the very tips of her teeth. Of her tongue. Searching. Seeking a partner.
And Megan was only too willing to oblige. To meet him halfway, to do the dance they did so well together even if they were new to it.
She was only too willing for anything and everything. For being pressed into the cradle of one eminently able arm. For the feathery strokes of the hand that had eased her face around for his kiss and now worked its way along the column of her neck, easing downward so slowly it was nearly imperceptible.
Too slowly, actually. Because there was nothing Megan wanted more at that moment than to be touched by him. Than to have his hands on her. On her bare flesh. On her breasts.
Breasts that were straining for attention. Crying for it. For him.
Megan trailed her own hand from his face to the strong cords of his neck, to his collarbone, to the hard bulge of his pectorals.
She didn’t mean it as a hint but only in response to her own thoughts of where she wanted his hand to be. And even if she had intended it as a hint it didn’t matter because Josh kept his own pace in the soothing stroke of fingertips that glided along her neck, that dipped into the hollow of her throat, that traced her breast bone only to the V of her sweater and back again as his mouth opened wide over hers and their kisses grew more feverish, more fervent, more frenzied.
On Pins and Needles Page 14
