Once Upon a Cowboy (23 page)

She folded her arms across her chest and shook her head pityingly. "You city slickers are all alike. You have to use a match to build a simple fire. That's truly pathetic."

Gary lifted his chin. "Says who? I'm a Boy Scout. We always come prepared." With that, he stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a flint. "Just watch."

He gathered a large supply of dry leaves and tiny twigs and arranged them in a loose mound. Aaron and Nathan quickly followed his example. So did Katie Sue, though with a bit more reluctance.

To Cami's amazement, Gary soon had a tiny flame flickering to life at the base of the mound. He fed the flame with more leaves and twigs and before long had a small fire going. It didn't take much to build it from a small fire to a large roaring one.

"If that don't beat all," she muttered. Working quickly, she formed a sizeable fire ring with stones. "Get sticks for the wieners. I'll open the cans of beans and warm them up. We'll be chowing down before you know it."

Dark had just settled in when they finished off the last hot dog and scooped up the last bean. Nathan and Gary started on the marshmallows. Katie Sue stole close to Cami for a cuddle. She gave herself an entire two minutes to regret missing out on a night spent in Holt's arms. Maybe he was right. Maybe their relationship wasn't meant for permanent, only temporary. No doubt he'd use this incident to prove his point... as well he should. She'd taken a foolish risk, one she'd spend the night regretting.

"Okay, kids, time to talk," Cami announced.

Aaron gazed at her from across the fire. "We're lost, aren't we?" he asked.

Katie Sue started in alarm. "I wouldn't call it lost, exactly," Cami hastened to correct, reassuring the little girl with a hug. "Let's just say we're temporarily mislaid."

"What does that mean?" Nathan questioned.

"It means," she confessed, "that tomorrow Holt will come and help us find our way back to the ranch. Until then, we get to stay up late and tell stories and sleep under the stars. How does that sound?"

"Decent!" Gary said.

Greatly encouraged, she expanded on the idea. "We'll use our saddles for pillows and sleep on our saddle blankets, like real cowboys."

"What if I get cold?" Katie Sue demanded fretfully.

"It's going to be pretty warm tonight, but we've got the fire in case it turns chilly. And you can always snuggle close to me." To Cami's relief, the little girl relaxed. "Okay, boys, look through the saddlebags and find my yo-yos. There's one for each of you. Who wants to learn Dunk the Doughnut?"

Nathan's hand shot up. "I would, I would."

"Forget Dunk the Doughnut,' Tex," a deep voice spoke from the darkness. At the same time Git burst through the circle of children, barking hysterically.

Cami shot to her feet. "Holt?" she gasped. "Is that you?"

He stepped into the firelight, the leaping flames casting a devilish glow across his hard, furious features. "Oh, yeah, Tex. It's me. And instead of Dunk the Doughnut, why don't you show them Hang the Wrangler. Better yet, why don't I show them?"

Chapter 10

Cami cleared her throat. "I don't believe I know that one. Fact is, I don't believe I
want
to know that one." As an afterthought, she buried her yo-yo deep in her pocket.

Holt glanced around. "You kids all right?"

"We're having an adventure," Gary announced.

"I want my mommy," Katie Sue said, and promptly burst into tears.

Cami rushed to comfort the child, but Holt beat her to it. He scooped the youngster into his arms and brushed her hair from her damp face. "Easy does it, buckaroo. Everything's going to be all right now. I promise."

The tears slowed. "Can we go home?"

"In the morning. It's not a good idea to travel at night. Would you like to tell your folks you're safe? Since the phones don't work out here, it's the next best thing to talking to them." She nodded, and he carried her to his horse. Opening a saddlebag, he pulled out a flare gun.

"We're going to talk to Mommy with a gun?" Katie Sue asked dubiously.

"Sure are. You watch." They crossed to a clearing and he aimed into the air. "Say when, and I'll pull the trigger. It'll make a loud boom and set the sky ablaze, like fireworks. Everyone at the ranch will see it and realize I've found you and you're all fine."

She covered her ears with her hands. "Okay. Shoot it."

He did. Instantly a bright flash whizzed skyward. All eyes remained riveted on the glowing red ball that burst across the night canopy. The instant the final twinkling ember drifted to earth, an answering flare streaked high overhead.

"See," he said, pointing. "There's your mother's answer. She knows you're safe and is saying goodnight."

Katie Sue sighed and snuggled against his shoulder. "G'night, Mommy."

Cami gazed at the ground, tears stinging her eyes. This was her fault. She'd done this. She'd never felt more ashamed in her life. All those worried parents. All that fear and anxiety. All because of her.

"Have you eaten?" he asked the group at large.

"We ate wieners and beans and marshmallows and hot chocolate." Aaron cataloged. "I'm stuffed."

"We've been having lots of fun," Nathan added earnestly. "Tex was going to show us some yo-yo tricks before we went to bed. Wanna watch?"

"Sounds good. Let me get Loco settled and I'll join you." He looked directly at Cami and she flinched beneath his hard gaze. "I have bedrolls for the kids. Come and get them."

She gulped. Why hadn't he just said, "Come and get them and die?" Dragging behind, she left the protective circle of firelight and allowed the menacing darkness to swallow her. She shivered, not from the chill of the night air but from the cold eyes and tense stance of the man in front of her.

"Holt—"

"Don't say a word." He kept his voice low, but his warning cracked like a whip. "First answer this. Is everyone safe?"

"Yes."

"Uninjured?"

"Yes."

"Not even a scratch? "

"Not even a scratch," she hastened to reassure.

He grabbed a fistful of shirt, tugging her close. "You scared the hell out of me, woman. You know that?"

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Shut up, Tex."

Without another word, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with a desperation she couldn't mistake. She forgot everything except how good it felt to be held by him, touched by him, to be with the one man who made her whole, made her complete. She loved this man. Lordy, how she loved him.

Minutes passed. Finally, she rested her forehead against his chest, listening to the rapid, powerful beat of his heart. "I'm sorry about what happened," she said. "I'd like to explain."

Instantly his muscles tautened and he thrust her away. "Don't."

"Holt?" she whispered, bewildered by the abrupt change in him.

"I'm warning you. Let it drop."

"But, I thought..."

He rounded on her. "You thought what? That a kiss lets you off the hook? That because we made love—that we'd planned to make love again tonight—that there wouldn't be consequences for your actions? Think again." The harshness in his tone made her cringe. "Now listen up, and listen good. You aren't to offer one word of excuse about this... this
adventure
in front of the children. You keep it light and friendly. Tomorrow—" He leaned closer, emphasizing each word. "Tomorrow we
will
discuss it. Long and hard."

"Yessir, boss," she murmured. "Long and hard." He tossed the bedrolls at her and she clutched them to her chest. Tears clogged her throat and burned her eyes. She forced herself to speak, shocked at how ragged her voice sounded. "For what it's worth, I've learned my lesson."

"No, I don't think you have," he replied coolly, stripping the saddle off Loco. "But come morning, you will."

She stumbled back into camp and gave each child a bedroll, helping them arrange their sleeping spots. Then she passed out the yo-yos and quietly set about teaching them some of her simpler tricks. Eventually Holt joined in. Before long Katie Sue sought her bed, battling yawns. The three boys weren't far behind.

Holt shifted closer to the fire, banking it for the night. Cami settled onto her saddle blanket and watched. A breeze caught at the upper reaches of the trees, rustling the leaves. In the distance a great horned owl hooted, the bass sound echoing across the hills. The fire snapped and sparks shot into the air. Holt lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm sorry," she said softly. "Truly sorry."

He shoved back his hat and nodded. "I know you are, Tex. But you disobeyed my direct order just to prove a point about your worth as a cowboy. Well, you did that, all right." He tossed a stick at the fire. "But the sad fact is, you proved just the opposite of what you'd hoped. And you put these kids in jeopardy to do it."

She didn't say another word. Instead she hunkered down on top of the blanket, battling guilt and grief. Honesty compelled her to admit the truth.
She
had
been trying to prove a point, one aimed directly at Holt in the hopes of convincing him to keep her after summer's end. And she
had
used the children in order to do it. And in so doing, she
had
put them at risk.

She wasn't worthy of being a cowboy.

"Good night, Holt," she whispered.

"Night, Tex." He hesitated, then added gently, "Sweet dreams."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Not likely. Seemed she was plumb out of dreams, sweet or otherwise.

* * *

A wakeup lick from Git rousted Cami at the crack of dawn. She busied herself heating water in the rinsed bean cans and preparing hot chocolate and trail mix for breakfast. Then she watered and saddled the horses. The children took more effort. Still, she managed to deal with their morning grumpies and get them fed, spit polished and ready to go, hoping her hard work would help atone for her poor judgment.

Holt crossed to her side and handed her a tin cup. "I know you don't drink coffee. Thought you might like to make an exception this morning. It's instant."

"Thanks," she said gruffly and took a quick swallow. It tasted even worse than she remembered, but she forced herself to drink it. Before this day ended, she'd need the caffeine.

"Roll up your beds," Holt told the children, "and douse the fire with dirt. Gary, you make sure it's done right." He turned cool, stern eyes in Cami's direction. "Tex and I are going for a quick stroll. You kids don't budge from this spot. Understand?"

As one, the children nodded solemnly. Cami could tell from their expressions they'd obey his order to the letter. He snagged her arm and led the way out of camp.

"Where are we going?" she asked anxiously.

"You'll know when we get there." They walked about a hundred feet. "What do you see?"

She stopped and glanced around, bewildered. "Woods to both sides. A clearing up ahead."

"Take another look at that clearing." He tugged her a step closer.

Cami gasped, scrambling back. A yard in front of her the ground abruptly ended, plunging to a very deep, very narrow, and practically invisible chasm. "Oh, Lordy," she gulped.

"Which way were you traveling yesterday?"

She paled. "This way."

"I thought as much," he said with a nod. "You wouldn't have seen the drop coming until it opened beneath you. You realize that, don't you?"

She couldn't speak. Instead, she clapped a hand over her mouth and nodded, fighting a sharp, near overwhelming bout of nausea.

"If for some reason you'd chosen to detour into the woods, you'd have hit this same gorge there, too," he continued relentlessly. "The accident would've been avoidable, because the drop's more visible. Not that it matters. Because unless you'd decided to go back the way you came, eventually you would have returned here, on the only path that looks passable. Then you and the children would have ridden for a fall."

She fought for breath. "I didn't know. I'm sorry," she gasped.

"I believe you, Tex. But let me make one more point. What we're doing here," he swept his arm to encompass the surrounding territory, "isn't even true cowboy work. This is taking folks for a pleasant ride in the mountains. Cowboy work is much more. It involves dangerous animals and machinery and adverse weather conditions. It requires skill and care, and most important of all, thought."