Lone Tree (19 page)

Whoever, whatever, it wouldn’t be much longer. He
had all the time in the world in which to make his plans. He liked that—having
unlimited time and unlimited options. It was his turn now.

Lainie kept Glory at a walk as they left the stable
while she tried to decide where she wanted to go. East would put the sun in her
eyes; west would have her riding into it on her way back. The oasis was
northeast, but she’d been there countless times, and cows had just been moved
to the north pasture. She guided Glory south.

The sun warmed her through her cotton shirt. A
slight breeze cooled her cheeks and carried the scent of hay with only a slight
suggestion of manure. She stayed at a lazy walk, just drinking in the morning,
until Glory started prancing, and then she let the horse have her head.

She was thinking about heading back when a flash of
white streaked across the ground. Glory reared, too suddenly and violently for
her rider to keep her seat. Lainie went flying. Time seemed suspended while she
was airborne, helplessness and panic mingled then she met the ground so hard
she could neither move nor breathe.

When her lungs finally allowed air, she took small
gulps, each one coming a little easier than the last. She rolled over,
struggled to her knees and raked a quick look around for Glory, but the horse
was long gone.

The good news was that Glory wasn’t injured—and Lainie
hadn’t broken or sprained anything either. The bad news was that Lone Tree was
a dead spot for cell phones. Hers still lay in her nightgown drawer, where
she’d put it the first week she was here.

She looked at the barren terrain. It was nearing
9:00 a.m., already heating up, and she had neither shade nor water. She
probably wasn’t a whole five miles from the ranch, not much by car or horseback,
but on foot and in the hot sun that was a distance. She scanned the ground for
her hat and eyed it several yards away, in the wrong direction. She went for
it, grudging the extra steps, and then began the trek for home.

Abruptly she stopped. She had a good sense of
direction, but she had to be sure—really sure. She studied the landscape:
shallow gully stained purple by the extra tall mulberry growing out of its
corner, squat hills over there. She made sure the sun was where it was supposed
to be and then resumed walking.

Glory would head straight for the stables, and when
she arrived without Lainie a search party would be formed. A plan must be in
place for exactly this contingency. She didn’t doubt she’d be found, but it
might take a while. Having become accustomed to Glory and the ranch and the freedom,
Lainie seldom followed a pattern; she wandered as she wished. When Nelly had
asked where she was headed, she’d grinned and said, “Yonder.” She could now
kick herself for the flippancy and wondered if he’d glanced out in time to see
her turn south.

She trudged on. The sun was like a heavy weight. The
heat didn’t affect her as badly as it once had. She was becoming acclimatized,
but she preferred not to go out for long walks in it. If she could find shade
she’d stay put and wait for the searchers. She recalled the mulberry and wished
she were under it. Since she wasn’t capable of sitting motionlessly and
allowing the sun to beat on her, she continued to put one foot in front of the
other.

A glance at her watch told her fourteen minutes had
passed.

She recited song lyrics and nursery rhymes, trying
not to think about heat and thirst, and to keep her mind off the time that was
passing too slowly. But she was still hot, still thirsty. She jerked to a stop
when an image of the Pacific Ocean popped into her mind. She could smell the
salt water, almost see undulating waves in the distance.

All that water that was sometimes too cold to wade
into.

She shook her head and the image vanished.

Again she checked her watch. Almost twenty-five
minutes now. How much time would it have taken Glory to get to the ranch? How
much longer to organize searchers? It was a big spread, a lot of ground to
cover. Maybe she should sit and wait. But she couldn’t.

Five more minutes passed. She wiped her forehead
with her sleeve. Too much sweat, losing moisture too fast. The air was heavy,
hard to breathe.

Her senses had dulled to the extent she was
operating on a mechanical level—one step and then one more—when she spied a red
truck in the distance, steadily approaching. She squinted. Mirage? Like the
ocean?

The pickup slowed to a stop about a dozen yards
away. She resumed walking, steps no faster or slower. Reed’s figure behind the
wheel remained motionless for an instant, then he twisted and reached behind
him. Next he stepped down from the cab and fired one shot into the sky. He
climbed back up into the cab, replaced the rifle in its mount, leaned across
the seat and pushed open the passenger’s door. The windows were down. She
wanted the truck’s air conditioning but didn’t have the breath to say so.

She climbed onto the seat. He held a wet cloth with
which he wiped her face, then he put the canteen to her mouth.

“Easy,” he cautioned, not giving it up when she
grasped it with both hands. “Just a little. You can have more in a minute.”

She wanted the whole thing right then and there and
had to force herself not to fight for it. He allowed two small sips, then
pushed her hat aside and poured water onto the top of her head. She didn’t know
which was the more welcome, drinking it or having it poured over the top of
her.

He poured more water onto the cloth, then unbuttoned
the top buttons of her shirt. Unable to think clearly, she just looked at him.
His eyes met hers, then briefly turned amused, as if reading where her mind was
going. He rubbed the wet cloth over her neck and shoulders, then left it draped
around her neck. He allowed her to sip from the canteen, more this time, then
leaned back against his door. “You look pretty good, considering. A little
worse for wear, maybe, but you’re okay. Feel all right?”

“Um,” she managed. She closed her eyes and leaned
her head back.

“I’ve followed easier trails than ‘yonder’ before.”

“Sorry about that.” Her voice cracked, but it
worked.

“That was a jolt when Glory came in without you. Had
us all worried, especially Miles.”

Lainie thought he was being too easy on her. She’d
expected him to lay into her with everything he had. She motioned for the
canteen, and he handed it over. She behaved herself, taking small sips, then
held it in her lap. “Is Glory okay?”

“She’s good. What happened?”

“I got thrown.”

He chuckled. “Not sure if that was a stupid question
or a stupid answer. How did you get thrown?”

“Glory got startled by a jackrabbit.”

“Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been a snake.”

“Yeah.” She was wearing her boots. Maybe that was
why he was being so easy to get along with.

He straightened to look through the windshield.
Lainie followed his gaze and saw a small dust storm approaching. She squinted,
then recognized Miles’s SUV.

“He must’ve heard the rifle shot. Meant you were
okay and everyone could go home, but it appears he has to see for himself.”
Looking across at her, Reed rested his hand on her knee. “He took it hard when
that horse came in by itself, and he might come down kind of hard on you. Take
it easy, okay?”

So that was why Reed hadn’t lit into her; he knew
Miles would. But other than giving voice to the flippant
yonder
, she’d
done nothing wrong. She might have scared a few people, including herself, but
she hadn’t done anything wrong.

The truck rocked to a halt on Lainie’s side. The
windows were down and dust swirled inside. Miles emerged and was instantly at
her window.

“You all right?” His voice was so hushed it seemed
he feared the answer.

“Yes, I—”

He jerked the door open. His eyes examined her
length, head to feet and back up again. “Need a doctor?”

“No, I—”

His gaze shot across her to Reed. “Heat stroke?
Dehydration?”

“Don’t see indication of it.”

As Miles stared at Lainie, his body appeared to sag.
His energy seemed to drain along with his tension. He nodded, then closed the
pickup’s door. He took the few steps to his truck and got behind the wheel. The
windows rolled up. He drove away at a slower pace than he’d arrived.

Lainie stared after the receding vehicle, then
looked at Reed. His gaze remained on the distant SUV.

“What is it about you that makes Miles back off?” he
asked, as if talking to himself.

“Back off? Miles backs off on me?” She’d seen no
sign of that. And why would he? He deals differently with women? Reed possibly
hadn’t had occasion to see his boss interact with members of the fairer
sex—other than Rosalie, who might have been around longer than Reed had.

“Yeah.” He watched her now, eyes narrowed. “I’ve
seen hints of it. Little here, little there. He was worse than scared when
Glory showed up without you. Lit into both Nelly and me because we let you go
out in the first place, on horseback, by yourself, without a detailed itinerary
and a map and a bodyguard, and other things that didn’t make a whole lot of
sense. Even Randy got it when he returned from town, and he’d left before you
even saddled up.”

“But none of you were at fault. It sounds like the
three of you got it instead of—”

“Don’t worry about it. They can take care of
themselves. So can I.” He continued watching her, his face reflecting his
recent strain of worry. Mingled with it was the relief of having found her in
one piece, then visibly he shrugged everything off.

“The bottom line is still that one rifle shot.
You’re found and you’re safe. Don’t mind admitting what a welcome sight it was
to see you walking under your own power.”

“Was kind of glad to see you, too.”

He situated himself behind the wheel and switched on
the ignition. “Time to get you home. You might as well take the rest of the day
off. Doubtful Miles would let you do anything else anyway.”

The air conditioner came to life and the windows
rolled up. Looking her way, he waited, then asked, “Can you manage that seat
belt by yourself?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

The truck started moving. She took another sip of
water, grateful for the cool air washing over her, and watched Texas real
estate roll by. As the pickup ate up the miles, she developed a strong
suspicion she was going to be very sore come morning.

Reed drove her to her door. She climbed down,
surprised at how stiff she already was, and hobbled inside. She swallowed two
Advil tablets, took a long soak in the tub, dressed lightly and sacked out on
the bed. She propped her head on pillows and found ambition enough to read.

Dinner chimes hadn’t yet rung when she heard a light
knock then her front door opened.

“Lainie?”

“Oh.” At the sound of Reed’s voice she screwed her
face up. She lay on her back atop the bedspread, wearing a skimpy white tank
top and short pink shorts.

“You okay?” Then he was in the open doorway of her
bedroom, giving her no time to even sit up. He gave her a long up-and-down
look, gaze lingering where it wanted to, then he settled in the rocker without
being invited. “If you’d known I was coming, you would’ve put a bra on, right?”

He was so right on target that a laugh burst out of
her. She set the book aside. It wasn’t big enough to cover anything anyway.

He sat back, propped a foot on his knee and started
the rocker going with a boot heel. “You sore?”

She blew her breath out in a wry laugh. “Oh, yeah,
you could say that.”

“Anything hurt enough you think it needs a doctor’s
attention?”

She shook her head.

“Then you’re all right.” His gaze explored again,
his face sobered and his voice softened. “More than all right.”

For the second time since she’d heard him at her
front door, she thought being anywhere near a bed with Reed Smith in the same
room wasn’t a good idea.

His eyes finally worked themselves back up to hers.
He said offhandedly, “Don’t worry about it. You’re way too sore for me to try
anything.”

She frowned at her bright-pink toenails. She was
that easy to read?

When they heard the chimes signaling dinner, he got
to his feet. “That’s my cue. I get corn on the cob and pot roast. You and Nelly
get tuna salad sandwiches. Promised Rosalie I’d deliver them.”

“I can—”

“Yeah, you could, but there’s no need. Stay there
and relax. I’ll be back in a minute.”

At the doorway, he paused, then turned back. A
subtle change in his expression made her hold her breath. Their gazes held for
a long moment, and Lainie thought for the third time that being on top of a bed
with Reed Smith in the same room wasn’t a good idea.

He walked back, his intention right up front in that
sexy, dare-anything look. “Maybe, before you eat that fishy sandwich—”

“No.”