Showdown at Lizard Rock (9 page)

Kaylyn quickly gave Sandi the instructions for the afternoon crafts session. She was going to be late getting back to the springs. She had cooked the day’s soup while Sandi exercised the patients in the springs that morning, but she knew that Tom Brolin would be there with the men before she arrived.

“By the way,” Sandi called out as Kaylyn got into the van, “if you should happen to see Mac, you could tell him about the Founders’ Day Picnic too.”

“You wouldn’t be looking for a date, would you?”

Sandi blushed. “Of course not. I just thought that maybe he’d volunteer his men to help us get all these busybodies to the barbecue.”

“Good idea,” Kaylyn said. “They might even agree to help set up everything.”

All the way back to the springs she turned the idea over in her mind. First she’d get King to the picnic. If her plan to involve him with the nursing-home residents didn’t work, at least she would drum up support for her cause by making the citizens aware of the man who was destroying the springs. Maybe public opinion could do what she hadn’t been able to.

And if she could get the construction workers to … A solution to the manpower shortage began to take shape. If she could recruit enough men to set up the events, the stage, and the bleachers, then the fire and police departments need not be pulled from their regular duties. If the construction workers joined in, then maybe … just maybe …

“Well, what do you think, fellas?” Kaylyn asked. “Will you do it?”

Harold, who had become a regular member of her soup line, voiced the first question. “Are you sure that your fine citizens will want us ‘bums’ involved in their little celebration?”

“Yeah,” an elderly man said. “Every time I’ve seen a policeman for the last three months, he’s either been arresting me for vagrancy or telling me to move on.”

“It would be nice to go to a real picnic with real families again,” another man said wistfully.

“What would you need us to do?” someone else asked.

Tom Brolin answered. “The picnic is on Saturday. The day before, we’ll set up a stage for the band and the speakers, and some stands where the older residents
and Kaylyn’s folks from the nursing home can sit and watch the activities.”

“I heard they have a three-legged race. Is that so, Ms. Smith?”

“Right you are,” Kaylyn said. “The morning of the picnic we lay out the mud hole for the tug-of-war and set up the course for the three-legged race. Then we put up the picnic tables and cook the barbecue and Brunswick stew. You can see that we could certainly use your help.”

From his trailer across the pool, King watched and listened through an open window as Kaylyn worked her magic. In no time she’d convinced a bunch of down-on-their-luck men to supply the manpower for the local Fourth of July picnic. If anybody else had come up with the idea, it probably would have been nixed on the drawing board. But King had no doubt that Kaylyn would bring it off. She was some woman.

The men began to venture suggestions. Soon they allowed themselves a guarded enthusiasm about the upcoming event. Enthusiasm and purpose were wonderful things, King knew. They changed a bunch of ex-bums into men with a quest. There’d been a time when he’d had no enthusiasm, and no purpose, either. Yet he’d pulled himself up by his boot straps and made his own way, and so had his brothers. Diamond, his sister, was getting there too.

What he didn’t understand was Kaylyn Smith. Watching her stand back and allow the men to offer suggestions on how they could utilize their talents, he found it hard to condemn her for interfering with his project. He ought to throw her off the property.
The news media’s interest in the protest had died down in light of the firm support of the city council. Kaylyn’s eviction from the building site was unlikely to cause him any more bad press.

Truthfully, she intrigued him. In the five days she’d been at the springs, he’d found a dozen excuses to drop by his trailer during the day. When her campsite was empty, he was disappointed. When she was there, he alternated between anger at her for occupying his mind when he should be concentrating on the job, and the simple joy at watching her as she performed routine chores under primitive conditions.

He’d have a talk with her later, he thought. By now she must know that her protest wasn’t doing any good. The symbolic picketing every afternoon by her soup-line regulars and a few nursing-home residents in wheelchairs didn’t attract much attention outside of the pages of the
Pretty Springs Gazette
, and even Tom Brolin was running out of reasons to cover the event.

He’d invite her to dinner and discuss the situation with her sensibly. Then later they’d come back to the springs and … Later would take care of itself.

Kaylyn’s tent was dark as King made his way to the springs. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d made the icy midnight swim a nightly routine. The water was as cold as a witch’s—well, it didn’t compare with a good hot shower in the trailer. He’d intended to stroll over to her tent as soon as everyone left and
have a simple conversation with her, but she’d gone off with Tom and Harold. He’d had to wait. Now he was hungry and tired and, he admitted, even a little jealous.

As he passed the tent window he paused, allowing himself to glance inside. But the interior was dark, as it was every night. She was probably already asleep and unaware of his midnight visits. He didn’t know why he was so irritated at her indifference. She was trouble. He was better off ignoring her completely. He stood, torn by indecision. What he wanted to do was jerk the tent flap back, march inside her tent, and … hell, he didn’t even know if she was in there.

The only sound he heard was the soft gurgle of the water as it churned to the surface. He had to admit that there was something physically and spiritually soothing about the sound, something good about knowing that the springs and that old Lizard had been there for two hundred thousand years. No matter how tired or out of sorts he was, he could work out his frustrations with his swim and sleep like a baby afterward. He felt his stomach muscles contract into hard knots. That night, especially, he hoped Kaylyn was right about the calming effects of the water.

He walked on, determined to bring his raging emotions under control. Soon his brother, Jack, the architect, would be there to help lay out the houses and the sites for the golf and tennis courts. Then Joker would be along to set up the memberships and handle the actual running of the community. How on earth was he going to explain Kaylyn Smith and a donkey camped out on the site?

He stubbed his toe and stumbled forward, trying to regain his balance. His bare foot hit a sharp sliver of rock, and it penetrated with a vengeance. “Ouch!” He hopped around on his good foot as he tried to bite back the pain. “Damn! Now the rocks are attacking.”

Kaylyn had heard him thrashing in the darkness. Now she heard his oath and his genuine cry of pain. Without a thought she rushed from her tent to his side. “Who’s attacking you? What’s wrong?”

“It’s sabotage. One of your rocks has stabbed me in the foot.” He groaned, balancing himself by sliding his arm around her neck.

“Foot?” The word hung in the air as she felt the shock of his bare body against her. She didn’t have to ask if his wardrobe was coordinated that night. The answer would have been no. No, that was wrong. The answer would have been yes. His feet were bare, and the rest of him matched perfectly.

“Here, sit down on the rock,” she said thickly, “and let me get a light so that I can see.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he said dryly.

She ignored him, tucked her shoulder under his arm, and helped him over to one of the large boulders. “Does it hurt bad?”

“No,” he said bravely, sorry that she’d moved away. Kaylyn’s height continually undermined his control. He’d never been with a woman as tall as she, and he found the experience unsettling. “I think it’s just a flesh wound, just a warning from the Lizard.”

“Wait here.” She hurried back into the tent and reappeared with a lantern. She placed it on the
ground and examined his foot. He hadn’t been faking the injury as she’d suspected. There was no mistaking the seeping red blood that was staining the dirt beneath his foot.

“I give up. I’m dying,” he said dramatically, openly ogling the woman kneeling before him. “You and the rocks have won.”

“Shut up, Vandergriff. You easily could pick up blood poisoning from a wound like this.”

Wound? He had long forgotten the cut. From the moment he had seen Kaylyn in the light of her lantern, his pain had disappeared. That wasn’t a nightgown she was sleeping in. It was a man’s worn white T-shirt, and it made a perfect second skin for the body beneath it. For five days he’d tried to block out the memory of her body as he’d seen it the first day on that damn rock. But the picture had been with him every minute since. And now she was perched invitingly before him. He moved slightly as the rough rock ground into his bottom.

“Is the pain bad?” she asked.

“Awful,” he said, knowing the pain he was feeling had nothing to do with his foot.

“I think what we need to do is get your foot in the springs and clean out the dirt. Then I’ll bandage it so you can get home.”

He groaned. “You’ll have to help me over to the springs.”

“I know.” She moved the lantern away and held out her hand, focusing her attention somewhere just above the head of the golden-haired man. She concentrated on Matilda, enjoying her shed out there in the darkness. For once the donkey was not straining
to get close to King. For once Kaylyn would have welcomed the interruption.

He took her hand and rose, grabbing on to her as he wobbled unsteadily on one foot.

She tried to marshal her energy toward moving King to the pool, but his fingers, now digging into her shoulder, were setting off a vibration so strong that her teeth were chattering.

“I’m sorry,” he said as they reached the pool. “I’m a little light-headed.” He lurched around and sat down heavily, throwing Kaylyn off-balance and pulling her into his lap with a thud.

She steadied herself and tilted her head back to look up at him, trying desperately not to reveal her awareness of his nudity. “You’re probably losing too much blood. If you’ll lift your foot into the water, I’ll get into the pool and take care of the problem.”

“The problem isn’t in the pool, Kaylyn Smith, the problem is out here.” King felt a dizzying wave of passion sweep over him, and all thought of teasing Kaylyn disappeared. He wanted this woman. She was driving him wild with the wanting. For five days he’d suppressed his intense desire, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to taste her. He bent his head and kissed her.

Kaylyn moaned a muffled no, but she didn’t move away. He was storming her resistance once more. She was being torn apart by his very touch. And now his lips were setting off new waves of longing. When his tongue slipped inside her mouth, her mind stopped recording anything but the feel and touch of this man. He worked one hand beneath her T-shirt
and cupped her bare breast. She kissed him back hungrily, every part of her responding magically to his touch.

His body was hard, and she felt the evidence of his desire pressed against her thigh. With her last ounce of reason she shifted, trying to escape from the part of him throbbing against her. Her foot grazed his and she felt his involuntary reaction as he moved it away. She also felt the sticky, warm pool beneath it.

She jerked her head back. “Your foot.”

“Cut the damn thing off,” he said savagely, then pulled her close again. His lips trailed fire down her neck, and he captured the budding nipple, shirt and all, inside his mouth.

“King!” she cried, knowing that if she didn’t stop him now, she wouldn’t stop at all. “King!” She shoved against a rock and toppled both of them into the icy waters of the springs.

“Damn, woman! You sure know how to put out a fire, don’t you?”

“No,” she said weakly as her feet touched bottom. “This is the first internal combustion I’ve ever encountered. This is virgin territory to me.”

Virgin? He was at a loss for words. “Really?” Surely she was only making a comment. There was no way that a woman like Kaylyn could have managed to avoid some man’s bed.

“Please, King, turn around and sit on the side so that you can swish your foot back and forth. While you wash the dirt out of the cut I’ll get a sock to cover it. Then I’ll help you back to your trailer so I can bandage it.”

“Kaylyn, I don’t think I can get back to my trailer.
Maybe I’d better just try to make it to your tent. It’s big enough for two. I made certain of that.”

“Oh?” Her heart leapt up into her throat. “Why would you do that?” She eased out of the pool, embarrassed at how her wet T-shirt molded to her body.

“I wasn’t sure. But the way you were going, I thought you might be about to open a hotel along with your soup kitchen.”

In the moonlight she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. She was a legend come to life. She was the maiden pure and sweet, waiting in the forest for the unicorn. The night, the springs, everything about Kaylyn Smith was magic. And she had no idea. Of all the weapons she had available to influence him, she’d made no attempt to use the one most likely to work—herself.

She disappeared into the tent, then reappeared carrying a thick white athletic sock and his red robe. “Here, let me help you out.” She reached down and offered her hand.

He refused. If he took her hand, he’d just pull her into the springs again. What he wanted right now was to be standing close to her, or lying close to her, or having her beneath him.… He shook off that image and lifted himself from the water, being careful not to touch the hurt foot to the ground.

Kaylyn quickly slid the sock over his foot, keeping her gaze away from his body. She knew she was almost as nude as he, knew he was staring at her. He wasn’t even trying to look away. She took a deep breath and held out the red robe. “Put this on.”

“You’re returning my robe … now?”

“I’m returning your robe … now. I think you can
get back to your trailer without getting the wound dirty again.”