Crazy For the Cowboy (19 page)

He was becoming more real to her with each passing moment, but that had its dangers, too. Riding in silence invited her to fantasize about him sexually, but getting to know him through easy conversation invited a different fantasy—that they'd create a relationship that wouldn't end with him leaving Bickford and never looking back.

Apparently she couldn't win unless she wanted to chat about the weather. That didn't appeal to her, so she chose the lesser of two evils. “With all that moving as a kid, I'll bet you're more resilient than I am.”

“I don't know about that.”

“You must be. If you're forced to move, like when the Double J closed down, you can do it. If I'm forced to leave that house . . .” She hadn't meant to say that. She didn't like to put the thought out into the universe.

“I hope you don't ever have to, but if you did, you'd make it. You're tough, Georgie.”

That made her laugh. “No, I'm not.”

“Any woman who rides full tilt into a clearing cracking a whip over her head is—”

“Oh, for heaven's sake. That's a parlor trick. If you had a few hours of training and the right horse, you could do it, too.”

“I'll bet it would take more than a few hours.”

“Probably not in your case. You already know how to rope and ride, plus you have a sense of rhythm and good coordination. That pretty much guarantees sex . . . I mean
success
. Sorry. Got a little tongue-tied there.” She forced a laugh, but inside she was dying of embarrassment.

He didn't join in her laughter, which was troubling. The chatter of small birds and the whistle of a hawk in flight filled the silence as she struggled to think of something, anything, to say.

Then he spoke. “Ever hear of a Freudian slip?”

Not a change of topic. Too bad. “Um, I think so.” Oh, yes, and her previous comment had
Freudian slip
flashing all around it in colored neon lights.

“This psychologist who was a guest at the Double J told me about it. You mean to say one thing but what comes out is what your subconscious is dwelling on.”

“And sometimes you just get tongue-tied.”

“Sometimes.”

She didn't have to look at him to know he was smiling. He might even be trying not to laugh. Nothing she said now would help the situation, either. The more she insisted that sex wasn't the main thing on her mind, the more he'd think that it was. And he'd be right. Busted.

CHAPTER 19

V
ince didn't know whether to laugh or cuss. He'd thought he was riding into this canyon with a woman who'd written him off. Sure, he couldn't help the tug of lust whenever he looked at her, but he'd had that under control until her Freudian slip.

He'd been intrigued by the concept when he'd found out about it and had noticed that it happened a lot. Most of the time it was just funny, but this time it was both funny and arousing as hell. Now what?

Now nothing, that's what. Just because she still wanted him didn't mean he should do anything about it. Their conversation had made him even more aware of how different they were. He wouldn't know how to live in one place for the rest of his life, and that was all she could imagine.

But the differences went deeper than that. She was the kind of woman who got attached—to people, places, and animals. He was the kind of man who had no practice in forming attachments. She'd implied that buying Storm Cloud was significant, but he rejected that concept. One small choice didn't mean he'd had a personality transplant.

They left the open range with its thickets of mesquite and wound their way into the shadows of the canyon. She hadn't tried to initiate conversation, probably because she was afraid of revealing more secret thoughts. But she'd closed the barn door after the horse got out.

Besides, they needed to discuss the trail ride. So he broke the silence. “I was thinking I'd get a bird guide to take along. I can identify the wildlife, but I'm not up on all the birds.”

“Good idea, but don't buy one. I have a small book that would be perfect. You can borrow that while you're here.”

That was pointed. No sense paying for something he'd only need a short while. She was right, but it irked him that she was already envisioning his departure. “That's okay. I'll get my own.” Maybe he'd get into bird watching. It could happen.

“Suit yourself.” She shifted her weight in the saddle.

He shouldn't watch her do that. He really shouldn't. He shouldn't imagine what it would feel like to cup her firm little bottom and align her hips with his. And he especially shouldn't be thinking about what would happen after that.

“We're coming up on a trail that goes off to the left,” she said. “It's a good way to extend the length of the ride. You don't want to go straight to the meadow.”

“Not if we're going to use it for the overnight camp, which I think we should.” Now he was imagining what could happen in that meadow today. The grass was still new and soft.

“I agree. It's perfect for that.”

Perfect for other things, too. Things that shouldn't be on his mind. Except here he was, riding behind her while her body moved in time with her horse. She was so delicious.

Thinking of how
he
wanted to move in time with Georgie must have caused him to unconsciously tighten his thighs. Storm Cloud snorted and leaped forward, nearly bumping into her horse. Vince pulled back on the reins. “Easy, boy. Sorry about that, Georgie.”

Prince danced a little but Georgie soon had him settled down. She turned around in the saddle. “Everything okay back there?”

“Yep. Something must have startled him.”

“To tell the truth, I thought he'd be harder to handle. So far this has been a piece of cake.”

Yeah, except for the extreme sexual frustration of the rider. “The day's not over.” Vince had counted on his horse acting up some. Working with a misbehaving mount would have helped keep his mind off Georgie and the constant temptation she presented. Storm Cloud wasn't cooperating.

“So do you want to make a note about this trail?”

“Um, yes, yes, I do. Pull up for a bit.” He needed to get his mind back on business and fast. Just now he'd been staring at her mouth. After both horses halted, he found his pad of paper and a pen, both of which advertised the Bickford Hotel.

Georgie turned Prince back to face him. “I recognize that paper and pen. Steve and Myra were thinking of not ordering any more of them, but now they're stocking up. Anastasia's designing Wild Horse Canyon Adventures bumper stickers. Did I tell you that?”

“No, but I want one for my truck.” He finished making his notes and tucked the pad and pen back inside his jacket.

“Hey, that would be good if you had a bumper sticker. When you travel around you can be our ambassador.”

“Right.” There it was again, a reminder that he was only temporary. He should be glad that she accepted it so readily. Hell, he
was
glad, but she didn't have to keep mentioning it.

“So here's what I think about the trail ride. We'll take this part fast to save time, but you can meander during the actual event. Let them stop to take pictures. Point out the flora and fauna. A little history about Coronado, the Apaches, stuff like that.”

“Ed gave me a couple of books on the history. I've read both of them.” When he couldn't sleep from thinking about Georgie, he'd pull out a history book until he dozed off.

“Okay, good. The terrain along this trail is fairly wide and level, so we can canter if you want. Let our guys stretch their legs, get some aerobic exercise.”

“Works for me.” He couldn't speak for Storm Cloud, but he wouldn't mind blowing off a little steam.

“There's a potential lunch spot at the point where we turn back toward the meadow and the creek. We can stop there or just go on to the meadow.”

“Let's go on to the meadow.” He was playing with fire to suggest it, considering his state of mind. But he also wanted to change her perception of him in connection with that meadow. Last time they'd been there together had been confrontational. He didn't want to leave her with that memory.

He had another memory he'd love to leave her with. Would that be so terrible? Some gentle pleasure, a moment out of time, his one chance to hold her when nobody was around to judge or condemn. And that would be it. Once they rode back to town, he'd leave her strictly alone.

Probably a really, really bad idea. Unless . . . well, he'd wait and see how things turned out.

She fastened the string on her hat under her chin. “Ready?”

He pulled his hat a little lower. He had a string but hated using it. She looked cute with a string under her chin. He wasn't so fond of that look on him. He'd grab the hat if necessary. “Ready.”

*   *   *

Georgie was ready for something, either for this ride to be over or . . . something. Vince might be doing fine, but she was swamped with X-rated images every time she looked at him. Or even when she didn't. His sexy self was burned into her retina.

Facing Prince forward again, she nudged him into a trot and then quickly into a canter. That was better. Wind in her face, her horse moving under her, and the scenery sliding past at a much faster pace.

If they continued moseying along the trail as they had been, she couldn't be responsible for her actions. At least twice she'd considered leaping off Prince, pulling Vince down from Storm Cloud, and kissing him until she ran out of breath. She'd been having wild thoughts, such as
what would be so bad about doing that?

Probably plenty, so she'd decided to get them moving and shorten the time she had to be alone with a man who pushed all her buttons. He'd always had that effect on her, but now that she saw him as a nice guy in addition to being hotter than hell, the urge to jump him had become almost irresistible. Fortunately she couldn't do that from a fast-moving horse.

They paused briefly at the little grove of oak and juniper she thought would make a good lunch stop for the trail ride. Vince made some quick notes, and they were off again, cantering when they could and trotting when the trail was less forgiving.

About a quarter-mile from the meadow, she slowed Prince to a walk and pointed to a rocky outcropping. “That's the marker I use to know I'm getting close to the meadow. You can't see the cottonwoods yet but you'll be able to when we round this bend. Let's walk them in so they can cool down.”

“Good idea.”

He had the sexiest voice of any man she'd known, too. Two words spoken in that husky baritone and the value of the fast ride began to drain away. Her erotic fantasies came back with a vengeance.

Maybe the Ghost and his herd would be in the meadow. That would provide a good distraction. He probably wasn't there, though. The noise they'd made cantering down the trail would have alerted him. If he had been there, he was probably guiding his charges to some other part of the canyon.

“I hope you weren't counting on seeing the Ghost,” she said. “He probably heard us coming.”

“He wasn't on my agenda. I hope to be seeing a lot of him in the next few weeks.”

“You will. You'll need to caution everybody to keep it down when you approach any of the areas where he might be. Sometimes he hides the herd in that grove of aspen and oak by your lunch stop. Not often, but you could get lucky.”

“I'd like that.”

She heard the smile in his voice and resisted the urge to turn around and glare at him for teasing her. That might backfire. Vince wearing a killer smile was dynamite, and she had a very short fuse.

The gurgle of Sing-Song Creek, which she could hear before the meadow came into view, always gave her a lift. She loved this place and felt a moment of doubt. Would bringing trail rides here every weekend ruin it?

But she had to take that chance. Everyone who wanted Bickford to continue as a community had to take that chance. She'd monitor the situation as best she could and hope for the best.

Even though she didn't expect the wild horses to be grazing in the meadow, she guided Prince carefully out into the open. The clearing was empty of horses, but she could see the spots where they'd helped themselves to the new spring grass. They hadn't eaten all the wildflowers, though. Splashes of yellow and purple dotted the edges of the meadow.

Vince rode up beside her. “Seems a shame to dig a fire pit in the middle of this place.”

“I know, but that's part of the image, sleeping under the stars around a campfire.”

“I know, but this . . . belongs to the wild horses. I think it should be preserved if at all possible.”

“Vince, I don't know if it is possible. This is the obvious spot to pitch the tents, and camping beside a stream is always appealing to people.”

He scanned the area. “Where does that little path go?” He pointed to a faint trail that paralleled the creek.

“Back up into the canyon, I guess. It's too narrow for Prince so I've never followed it.”

“Let's leave the horses here and see where it leads. We might find an alternative.”

“You want to
hike
?”

He grinned at her. “You say that like it's the equivalent of hugging a porcupine.”

“You're wearing boots.”

“I know. So are you. It'll be fine.” He dismounted. “Let's go explore alternatives to digging up this meadow.”

“I'll go, but I don't hold out much hope.” She climbed down and led Prince over to a tree so she could tie him. “Even if we find something, we'd have to create a wider trail to get the horses over there. And what about the chuck wagon?”

“I haven't figured that out, not even if we park it here.” Vince tied Storm Cloud to a different tree. “I think we'll have to take it apart, haul it here in pieces, and reassemble it on-site. The guys did an excellent job, but the thing's ginormous. Trundling it back and forth every weekend won't be good for it.”

“I guess setting it up permanently might work.” She walked with him over to the trail he'd spotted. “So you'd store the tents and sleeping bags there, too?”

“Yeah, in weatherproof containers of some kind. Then all Henry has to bring in is the food. Less transporting things back and forth would be better.” He started up the narrow path, which made a gradual ascent.

“Good point.” The trail was barely wide enough for one person, so she followed behind. “I think we're literally on a bunny trail, Vince. Are you sure you want to follow it?”

“Trust me.”

She decided to do that. He operated in a more creative way than she did and followed his instincts far more readily. She didn't want to dig up this pristine meadow, either. If he could figure out a way not to, so much the better.

They dodged around bushes and stepped over rocks as they climbed. Georgie had to watch the trail to make sure she didn't trip, so when he stopped in front of her, she ran into him. It was like hitting a solid wall. His back was all muscle.

“Sorry! Should have signaled!” He turned around and grabbed her arm to keep her from stumbling. His grip was firm, yet incredibly gentle. “Sorry,” he murmured again.

“No worries.” She felt the warmth of his touch travel with the speed of light through every nerve in her body. He wasn't holding on very tightly, and she'd regained her balance. She should pull away. Instead she lifted her gaze to his.

He drew in a sharp breath. “Damn, Georgie.”

As she watched the clear blue of his eyes slowly darken, anticipation thrummed in her veins.

“Before this day is over, I'm going to kiss you.” His husky promise hung in the air between them. “But this is not the time or the place.” He loosened his grip on her arm. “I hear the sound of a waterfall. Let's keep going.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth in case a whimper escaped. When he reached a mass of heavy foliage, she figured he'd want to turn around, although she could hear the waterfall now, too.

He wrestled with the branches and created an opening. “You go on through and I'll hold these back. You can let me know if it's worth me coming through there.”

After taking off her hat, she hung it by the string from a bush. Then she crawled on her hands and knees through the space he'd given her. She kept her head down so the branches wouldn't scratch her face, and her jacket protected her arms.