A Cowboy's Love Part 2

"Lord," he whispered up to the stars, "I sure do want to thank you for finis.h.i.+ng off that fuel line just when you did!"

Then he put the hat back on his head and ran after Jamie to help her into the big truck.

The town of Sharperville was not much more than a ragged cl.u.s.ter of little streets surrounded by a hundred miles of open ranch country that stretched empty in all directions away from the town. The vast plateau was further isolated by twelve-thousand foot mountains that rose up like a natural fortress around the high, windswept desert. The interstate highway ran right through the center of town, along Main Street, where a few stores and a couple of motels slowed down the occasional traffic. There were no sidewalks on the dusty streets and only the hardier varieties of trees grew there, tall cottonwoods, pinyon pine, and juniper. Sometimes some wild plum grew up around the tidy houses. There was a church and a service station, but no school, so the children were bused to the elementary school over in Butcher's Fork, more than thirty miles away over Boulder Pa.s.s. The nearest movie theater was in Summersby, about a two-hour drive. Years ago high school kids had boarded away from home, coming back to town only on weekends and again in the summer, when school was out and they were needed on the ranch. Everyone learned to drive early and there wasn't anyone who couldn't handle a horse. Close to town there were still a few small farms-sugar beets and grain, mostly-started more than a century ago by Scandinavian settlers. It was hard country, dry and unforgiving.

On this night, as Cal drove Jamie away from the Canyon Rim, the moon was just rising, half-full, but even at that, it lit up the clear night and put a sheen over the desert floor that made the sage and the juniper silvery. Every now and then, off to the side, a curious gopher peered at them, momentarily rigid in the truck's headlights, but it would always whisk away before they reached it. Sometimes a cow, her calf nearby, would lift her head from her constant grazing. But mostly, the valley was nighttime quiet.

Jamie and Cal were both quiet, too, maybe a little shy, being strangers to each other, and Jamie did a quick inventory of the interior of Cal's truck. It was pretty much like any other ranch vehicle. A pair of heavy buckskin work gloves and a wrench had been tossed onto the dashboard, and there were several lengths of rope on the floor. Three rifles were stacked in the gun rack behind her and on the seat between them there were veterinary syringes for doctoring cattle, a cell phone, and an opened box of Oreos. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, but even as she realized the emptiness in her stomach, she knew there were other hungers-unwelcome hungers-that were stirring in her, had been stirring ever since this cowboy had shown up, ever since she'd first seen him coming across the dance floor, back at the bar. She didn't dare turn to examine his face directly, but she did manage a sideways glance.

The glow of the dashboard lights that lit up the underside of the brim of his Stetson, the clear lines of his strong young profile. And those nice hands, the right one at the top of the steering wheel and the fingertips of the left just barely touching the side of the wheel, with his arm resting on the open window frame. She smiled to herself, noticing he needed a shave, and in that moment, as though he'd read her mind, he took one hand from the wheel and rubbed his fingers across his cheek. He seemed irritated to feel the late-day stubble there.

Again, a confusion of feelings-attracted and frightened-swept over her and she was becoming uncomfortable in the silence. She forced herself into a pose of nonchalance; she grasped at small talk.

"What brought you here to Sharperville?" Her voice sounded okay, she decided-not ill at ease. "Not many people find their way to this part of the state."

"It's a long story." She saw his left hand drop down involuntarily to his knee, ma.s.saging it gently, and his gaze, concentrated on the road ahead of them, seemed to focus somewhere miles away. "I grew up in Nevada, up by Bennion. Now I'm working on Harvey Jackman's ranch. Harvey's married to my sister Ellie." Before she could say anything, he switched the subject, turning to her and pointing to the hard hat that was resting in her lap. "I couldn't help noticing the hat. What kind of work do you do, ma'am?"

She let him deflect her question. She got that he didn't want to talk about himself.

"I do road construction, mostly. I work a backhoe."

"No kidding? That's funny work for a woman to be doing, and you such a little bit of a thing-"

"No," she said sharply, interrupting him. "It isn't funny work. It isn't funny at all. It's good work."

"Well, sure it is, ma'am. Sure it's good work." He'd caught the edge of irritation in her voice and realized he'd offended her-the very last thing in the world he'd wanted to do. "I didn't mean any harm. I realize there's plenty of women running heavy equipment nowadays. I just don't meet too many of them, so I was surprised is all. I surely didn't mean to offend you, ma'am." His eyes left the road long enough to look at her. "Do you like doing road construction?"

"Well, it's a job and I have to support myself." He said nothing and Jamie realized she hadn't answered his question. "I guess I like it well enough," she added with some curtness.

You hardly know the man. You don't need to trade the story of your life just for a ride home!

"Isn't it hard for a woman to break into that line of work?"

"Not anymore. The big construction companies can't get federal contracts if they don't hire women. A couple of years ago, when the economy was getting tight around here and I got laid off from my other job, Gordon Callister offered to train me so I could get a job with his company." She felt her feistiness simmering down, soothed by Cal's easy tone. "Gordon's the foreman on this job." He's also one of the few decent people in this town. "I owe a lot to Gordie. I was working in the office at the Feed and Grain store, over in Butcher's Fork." Jamie paused. She was already telling him more than she meant to, but she found herself going on anyway. "Happens it was a tough time for me. I needed a job really bad and just then Gordon's construction company was looking for women to train."

She hesitated, remembering how rough it had been-when her marriage broke up and Mandy was taken from her-when her whole world had come apart. Not something she'd share with this cowboy, so she did a little deflecting of her own.

"It's mostly seasonal work, of course, but the pay is good, and I like being outdoors all day. I like it better than working inside, in an office, that's for sure."

"I do know what you mean."

She'd touched some nerve, she could tell; he said nothing more and they drove on silently. The moon was high over the ridge of the mountains to the east, lighting up the valley, turning the spa.r.s.e growth into spiky shadows and the road ahead of them into a bright ribbon that ran flat out along the valley floor. Cal was absorbed in his own thoughts and it was a long time before he spoke.

"I've worked out under the open sky all my life," he said at last. "I wouldn't like to get roped in real close." Jamie noticed that his hand went to his knee again, as though it was hurting him, and the muscle in his jaw was working. "I guess there's some kinds of creatures just naturally die if they're corralled in too tight."

We hardly know each other. Guess he has his story, too. And isn't talking.

She said nothing more and they drove on quietly for a couple of miles until she raised an arm, pointing a finger ahead of them.

"It's that dirt road up there, to the right. Just beyond the big cedars."

Cal turned off the highway and drove until they reached an old farmhouse that stood isolated in the great, empty moonlit s.p.a.ce, a shabby old place with a few ramshackle outbuildings around it. A rusted pickup was parked carelessly at the side and some decrepit farm equipment, too worn and broken to be of any use, obviously abandoned long ago, was lying about. Cal pulled the truck into the unkempt, rutted driveway and stopped in front of the house.

Since she'd moved back here to live with her father-just after the divorce-no one she knew ever came to this place, and she'd long ago learned to look past the disrepair. But now she saw the place through Cal's eyes and she was ashamed. She wished she didn't have to acknowledge it as her home. She wished she had some excuse to go anywhere but into that house. She wished she didn't have to leave the truck.

"Well, I guess you're home." Cal had let himself out on his side and come around to open the door for her.

She made no move to get out and Cal, puzzled by her expressionless face, rested one arm across the top of the open door and waited to figure out what was going on. He followed the line of her gaze and turned to look over his shoulder.

He had seen the condition of the house as he'd pulled into its weedy driveway and knew that it needed a lot more than new paint. Cal would have been ashamed to let any place he lived in get so run down. Even in the dark he could see that everything about it, from missing roof s.h.i.+ngles to the broken steps and the sagging porch, needed repair. The land that stretched far beyond the house was not being worked, and he'd have been willing to bet there wasn't even a kitchen garden out back. Through the front window, he saw the flickering light of a television, and he realized there was someone living in the house beside Jamie. Someone Jamie didn't want to see. He remembered what Harvey had told him, ". . . heard talk her family was no good."

"Would you just as soon not go in right now?" He spoke gently.

Startled, her eyes rose to his. It seemed he really was reading her thoughts.

"I guess . . ." She was surprised to hear her own hesitation.

"Well then, ma'am, I'll tell you what. Why don't you and me just take a drive. It's a nice night. We could ride up into the canyon, take a look down at the valley in the moonlight. It'll be real pretty. Come back any time you say." A nice night, he was thinking. h.e.l.l, it's a beautiful night! He wanted to say that the moon was lighting up the big valley like an enormous dance floor and reaching silvery into the canyons, slipping around the spiky scrub oak and the great, red rock boulders, making the stillness come alive. It was so breathtakingly beautiful, it could make your heart crack right into two pieces.

But he stayed quiet, leaning on the truck door. He'd already figured this girl would spook easy, so he took his time, letting her come slowly to her own decision.

Jamie looked again at the television light flickering through the window of the front room where her father would have been sprawled on the couch for a couple of hours by now.

He's probably already pa.s.sed out. Or maybe he's still working on his nightly six-pack, just waiting for me to come in, just waiting to pick a fight.

That's what usually happened. She'd come in and he'd snarl something stupid at her, some kind of accusation or reproach that didn't make any sense, and she'd just ignore him, maybe get something to eat out of the kitchen and take it upstairs to her room, and he'd go on muttering to himself till he fell asleep right there in the front room.

At least he's not a dangerous drunk. Just mean-mouthed and sloppy. The only way he'd damage anything would be if he fell on it.

It had been this way since she'd been a kid and by now she knew how to handle him. Mostly she just stayed out of his way.

How sweet it would be to have an excuse-any excuse-not to have to go in just yet.

Just a drive up in the canyon-and it really is such a pretty night . . .

Young as she was, life had taught her plenty and she knew enough to be wary. She had no illusions about men's intentions.

And yet, there was something about this man, this stranger who'd just drifted into town, something that was the d.a.m.nedest combination of exciting and comfortable, all at the same time.

Which was more surprising-that odd feeling of being so easily comfortable with him? Or that other thing, the exciting thing?

She told herself to be careful. It had been a long time since she'd felt so turned on by a man. Not since those early days with Ray back when they were both kids in high school and she was so dumb and didn't know any better. And that didn't last long-just long enough for her to do a stupid dumb thing and marry him, and then there was never anything good with him again. Except for Mandy, of course. She'd always be thankful for Mandy. But she had learned to keep big walls up around her feelings, and she'd decided it wasn't safe, ever again, to feel comfortable with anyone. Especially with men.

She looked again at that light in the window. She really didn't want to go into the house, and she really didn't want this man to drive away from her now.

"My name is Jamie," she said. "It's Jamisson, actually. Jamisson Sundstrom. I was named for my mother's family. Everyone calls me Jamie."

"I know. Harvey told me."

Like red flags going up, she could feel all those defenses suddenly on alert.

"Then I guess you know all about me."

"I sure don't know all about you, ma'am. It would take a lot more than what Harvey said for me to know all about you." He smiled broadly. "Old Harv never talks much anyway. It's like birthing a calf to try to get something out of him. So why don't you and me just take a ride and you can tell me whatever you feel like. Or not. Either way, suits me. It's such a pretty night, it shouldn't get wasted. Someone ought to be out there appreciating it."

Again, it was a judgment call. She reasoned that he'd already pulled her out of trouble a couple of times tonight. She actually had this good feeling while he was around, and there were few enough good feelings in her life to let this one end. She took one last look at the light in the window and that must have decided her.

"Okay," she said, mentally crossing her fingers. "Okay, let's take a drive."

"All right!" He closed her door and went around back to his side of the truck. As he climbed in, he pointed to the Oreos on the seat.

"And we even have some grub with us, so we're fixed for dinner."

Chapter Three.

Minutes before she'd been angry and resentful, digging deep inside herself to find the strength once again to fight back against an unfair, harsh fate.

And then this man she'd just met-she couldn't even remember his name-suggested a drive in the moonlight, and she felt sixteen years old again. No, much better than sixteen. At sixteen, she'd already known too much anger and misery. Right now, cruising along in Cal's big old Ford pickup, she was feeling good!

She knew it was risky to take this drive, but this man beside her just felt so safe, so comfortable, so-she couldn't put her finger on it-so right! There was something about the way he fit the seat of the truck, his long legs easy on the pedals, the way he handled the wheel. He smelled of leathers and hay and horses-a good, manly scent that belonged to honest work and open skies. The radio was picking up KSOP all the way from Salt Lake City-her favorite for country music, when she could get it. The signal was coming in clear even though the truck was already well into the canyon, climbing the steep grade that wound back and forth between the tall red-rock walls that rose up high into the moonlit sky, and Cal was humming lightly with the music.

She felt as though she was making an escape.

She felt like a girl on her first date.

He offered her the package of Oreos and she took one.

"I ought to have remembered your name," she said, "but I'm afraid I didn't catch it."

"It's Calvin Cameron. Everyone calls me Cal. Like I told you, I just hired on at Harv Jackman's place for a while. He's got that spread just south of town."

"Sure, the old Winder ranch. I guess I did hear Vern Winder had sold it a couple of years ago. After his wife died. Heard he'd retired and moved down to Phoenix with his daughter."

"That's the one. Harvey's the one bought it."

"I never met the new owners. The last few years I guess I've sort of avoided the folks around here." Instantly, she was afraid she'd said too much, afraid she'd just spoiled the good mood.

"Why's that, Jamie? What's wrong with the folks around here?"

Cal turned to look at her and she decided right away she had said too much.

"That's a long story. I'll tell you about it sometime."

Maybe.

"Okay." He looked back at the road. "Any time you feel like it." He was tapping his hand lightly at the top of the wheel, in time to the music, and just as lightly he changed the subject.

"You know this canyon," he said. "Any place up ahead where we can see down to the valley? Should be real pretty from up there."

He turned again, smiling at her.

"Yes, the road will open up about a quarter of a mile from here where you can get a good view." She hadn't spoiled anything, after all. She took a bite of Oreo. "It's been kind of a private place of mine ever since I was a kid. It's where I go when I have to think or maybe if I just want to get away from everyone. I've always been completely alone up here." She paused, remembering. "Except once . . . there was just this one time-"

She stopped dead, her eyes suddenly wide, staring straight ahead, up the road.

"Oh my G.o.d!"

Instinctively, unconsciously, she put one hand over Cal's on the steering wheel, to stop him, while with the other, she pointed ahead of them to the top of a rocky escarpment that rose about thirty feet into the moonlight.

"That's so spooky!" She could barely speak the words.

At the same moment, Cal saw what Jamie was staring at. Instantly, he brought the truck to a silent stop and switched off the headlights. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he cut the engine and the radio. "Now that's something you don't see too often," he whispered into the sudden silence.

A mountain lion! Nine feet easy, from nose to tail tip. The bright moonlight shone silver on his sleek coat marked only by black tufts of fur at the point of his ears. The lion stood attentive to them, waiting, poised for their next move.

Jamie's eyes were wide and her fingers gripped Cal's hand tightly, still unconsciously.

"He's watching us," she whispered.

She was unable to take her eyes from the beautiful animal, his powerful muscles held in check, his graceful, dangerous form gleaming in the moonlight. The big cat lowered his head slightly, his eyes still fixed on them, and his tail never stopped its slow switching back and forth, back and forth. Otherwise, he remained immobile. Around them all, a soft wind stirred the leaves of the quaking aspen, their bright circles quivered against the dark, still background of the spruce trees. Jamie's senses were quickened by the cougar's presence and she was aware of the sharp scent of spruce.

She became aware, too, of her fingers, gripping Cal's hand so tightly. It had been a long time since she'd held a man's hand in hers, and as she eased her grip, she felt the warmth of his skin, the long tendons strong against her palm. She pulled her hand away, stunned by a sudden current that seemed to flow between them, an actual, physical reality, and she was embarra.s.sed and confused by the rush of sensation that reached up through her arm to wrap itself around her heart.

If Cal noticed, he gave no sign. He just pushed his hat way back on his head and rested his chin on his hands, clasped now at the top of the steering wheel.

Cal had given no sign, but yes, of course he had noticed. How could he not? That kind of current flows two ways, and it carries its own message. But Cal had already figured out that this girl needed careful handling, not sudden moves, so instead he just rested his chin on his hands and peered up over them to watch the enormous cougar.

"That sure is one good-looking animal. Just about the biggest cat I've ever seen. But why did you say spooky?"

"I'll tell you later." Jamie was still too stunned to explain. "But shhh. Look. He's leaving."

The lion had taken his eyes from them, as though dismissing them, as though he was satisfied that he had fixed them safely in their place. He padded downward along the ridge, and then, in an unconcerned slow motion, mysteriously he vanished into the brush, his moon-silver coat blending into the sage and scrub oak.

The cougar's disappearance released Jamie and she s.h.i.+vered, coming out of the spell of the big cat's hypnotizing beauty.

And Cal whistled soundlessly. "Well, that's something you can tell your grandchildren about!"

"Oh, Cal, you don't know the half of it."

She was still shaken by the cat's mysterious appearance, just at that moment, just as she'd been thinking of that other time so long ago.