Temptation Ridge (8 page)

“My mother’s gone now.”

Luke reached out and squeezed his upper arm. “Yeah, you told me that. I’m sorry, man.”

“I have a group home. But I don’t want to have that job anymore.”

“I understand, Art. You don’t have to do that job. No one on this job will hit you. You clear on that?”

He smiled a small smile. A small, tired, hungry, beaten-down smile. “Clear. Luke.”

Two hours later, Art had new clothes. Functional clothes. Loose blue jeans and soft denim shirts, new tighty-whities and clean socks, new tennis shoes—black, because his chores would get him dirty. He also had a toothbrush, paste, comb, disposable razor and shaving cream. Luke made him a hamburger for dinner, made sure he knew where everything was in the trailer. Then he observed the shaving to be sure Art handled the razor safely. “You’ll be okay here by yourself tonight?” he asked.

“I like it,” Art said. “I wished it was mine when I first saw it.”

“That right? You won’t run off, will you?”

“I’m helping you now, Luke.”

“I got you some bottled water and a few protein bars in case you get hungry before morning. If you have a problem, you know where I am. I’m in the house. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, sitting on the small bed and circling his chubby knees with his arms, rocking.

“You need anything else, Art?”

“No.”

“See you first thing in the morning, then. We’ll have some breakfast together.”

“Okay. Thanks. Luke.”

Luke went back to his house. He was staying in tonight, in case Art needed anything, even though it meant not running into Shelby. He felt briefly disappointed; another fifteen or twenty minutes of feeling her pressed up against him, kissing him, that wouldn’t hurt. But now he had another project, one he hadn’t prepared himself for. If Art proved at all competent, it could turn out to be a good decision for both of them. If Art needed more assistance than Luke could provide, he could find him some help. But for now, at least he’d found a home for one of his mother’s many bathrobes.

A couple of days later, Shelby rode Chico into the clearing that fronted Luke’s cabins and stopped before getting too close. She had saddled and pulled Plenty along. The September afternoon was pleasant and sunny and she could see that Luke was crouched atop one of the cabins tearing off rotting shingles. Although it was cool enough for her to need a jacket, his broad sunburned bare back was facing her—it was a very enjoyable sight and she drank it in, silent. Then Plenty whinnied and Luke glanced over his shoulder. He stood and carefully turned toward her, balanced on the sloping roof. A smile found its way to her lips. What a sight he was, bare-chested, whiskers on his cheeks and chin, wearing jeans and a tool belt. She briefly wondered what it was about a tool belt… What was it she
had said about the guy she had in mind? Clean-shaven, starched and pressed, polo shirt…? Nah….

“Looks like you lost a rider,” he called down to her.

“I’m looking for a rider,” she said. “Want to take a break? See if you can sit a horse?”

“Is this a test of some kind?” he asked.

“No.” She laughed. “I’ll still like you if you fall off.”

He came down the ladder, grabbing his shirt off the lower rung and shrugging into it. It hung open and her eyes stayed riveted on that tool belt. His hands were on the buckle to remove it, but they didn’t move. When she lifted her eyes to his, she found him grinning. Caught. What the hell? she thought, smiling back.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her.

“I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Are you avoiding me again?”

“I should, but I haven’t been. I’ve had stuff going on. Does the general know you’re doing this?” he asked.

“Of course. They’re his horses.”

“Aw, Shelby,” he said, sounding a little miserable. He took off the tool belt and buttoned up his shirt. “What did he say?”

“He said, ‘You be careful of that Black Hawk pilot. They have a reputation for abusing women.’”

He shoved his shirt into his pants. “God,” he moaned. “Why don’t you go away and leave me alone before you get me shot.”

She laughed. “He didn’t say that. He said, ‘Be sure to tell Luke that Plenty nips and bolts.’ So—Plenty, short for Plenty of Trouble, nips and bolts. You’ll have to pay attention.”

“Bolts?” he asked a little nervously.

“Not usually with a rider. But if you get off, keep the reins. She can be a handful when she acts up, but she’s a pretty good ride.”

“Aw, man. I have a feeling this is going to be humiliating. Where are we going?”

“How about upriver a ways to check out the turning leaves?” she asked. “Think you can handle that?”

“I’ll give it a go,” he said. “Be with you in a minute.” He walked down to the first cabin and stuck his head inside. Art was doing exactly as he’d been asked, sweeping debris into a nice neat pile in the middle of the cabin that had been emptied of furniture. “Hey, Art,” Luke said. “I’m going to be gone a little while. You’ll be okay, right?”

“Right,” Art said, not looking up from his job.

“I’ll let you know when I’m back.”

“Okay. Luke,” he said.

Luke went back to Shelby and the horses, cautiously giving Plenty’s neck a slow stroke. She pulled her lips back as if she’d like to bite him, but she managed to control herself. “You have anything with you? Like a gun?” he asked Shelby.

“What for?”

“Bear. They’re still out. Fishing.”

“Oh, I have some repellent. Plus, I’m really fast.”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “I saw that the last time you were here. I’m not. I’m just hoping I can stay in the saddle.” He went to his truck and pulled his Remington .338 rifle out of the rack. “I’ll feel a little better if I don’t have to rely on you to protect me.”

“Ninny,” she said, smiling. “That’s pretty, but way more gun than you need.”

“It makes me feel manly,” he said.

By the time he was tying his rifle onto the saddle straps, Art was standing in the doorway of the cabin, watching them, broom in hand. “Who’s that?” Shelby asked.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” he answered, swinging into the saddle. “Lead the way.”

He followed her to the river and as they rode away from the cabins, Luke said, “That guy, his name’s Art. I found him camped out in one of the cabins—filthy, hurt and on the run. So he’s working for me in exchange for food and a decent place to sleep.”

“He’s staying with you?” she asked.

“No. I put him in the camper while we get one of the cabins fixed up enough for him, which is why I haven’t been at the bar in a couple of days—I wanted to make sure he was all right on his own. All he needs is hot water, cereal in the morning, bologna-and-cheese sandwiches for lunch, dinner and something soft to lie on. The guy’s pretty incredible. He’s not fast, but he’s careful and he tries real hard. Turns out to be a good helper, but let’s keep it quiet that he’s here until I figure out what he’s up against. Okay? I don’t know exactly who he’s running from, but he doesn’t want to go back. Someone gave him a black eye. He doesn’t have family anymore.”

She looked at him in surprise. “You’re protecting him.”

“He was digging through my trash, like he needed something,” Luke said with a shrug. “I didn’t go out of my way.”

“You could’ve told him to take off.”

“Nah, no reason for that. He has Down syndrome—just a plain old good-hearted soul. But if some asshole who hits him is looking for him, I don’t want word to leak that he’s hiding out here. Not till I figure out what to do about his situation.”

“You know, you try to hide the fact that you’re nice,” she said. “I think it’s natural for you to be kind.”

“Nowww,” he warned. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”

“You haven’t even established one yet,” she said. “No one knows quite what to make of you.” She lifted her chin,
looking up at the tall pines, the enormous sequoia, the clear, bright sky. Interspersed were oak and madrone with leaves turning yellow and orange. “Is this awesome or what?”

“Awesome,” he agreed. “How does it compare to living down the coast?”

“So far, a wonderful change.” She looked over at him and her eyes glittered. “I see great potential for this place.”

“Playing with me again,” he teased. “Don’t you worry that you’re biting off more than you can chew, little girl?”

“Aren’t you?” she asked.

He groaned. “I
know
I am.” And she laughed at him.

As they rode up the river into the hills, Luke couldn’t help but find the horse a good diversion, a real pleasant experience. As long as Plenty was beside Chico and not behind him, there were no bad manners, like nipping. They talked only a little while they rode, and after about twenty minutes along the river, Shelby stopped Chico at the base of a trail that rose steeply into the hills. It was marked with well-worn trail that led to a plateau. “Think you can do that?” she asked. “The view from up there is pretty awesome.”

“I can give it a try,” he said. “Let me go first so this horse doesn’t bite Chico’s behind.”

“Go,” she said.

The trail was wide enough for an easy ride, made up of switchbacks that went right, then left, then right again in a zigzag that took the strain out of the climb. It took about twenty minutes to get to the top and once there, the valley opened up in front of them, the river behind them, and what looked like a vineyard was spread out below. He took a deep breath and admired the scenery. He could see a number of hiking trails and a couple of old, abandoned logging roads that had probably been used in years past for the harvesting of lumber.

Shelby came up alongside and inhaled in much the same way, experiencing the view. They could see for miles over the tops of the ponderosa and fir. She pulled off her hat and shook out that single braid, letting the fall breeze cool her.

They sat for a long time, saying nothing. Minutes passed and then Luke heard a sound. There was a rustling and not exactly a growl but something like a deep whine. A mewling. He looked to his right and saw that at the base of a tree a large bear cub rolled around playfully. Even though the cub was probably four months old and good-sized, he was still just a kid. “Shit,” he said. “Oh shit.” Where there was a cub, there was always a mother. And sure enough, coming at them from the left was Mama. They had somehow inadvertently gotten between the cub and the mother. And damn, Mama was
big.

“Down, down, down,” he said to Shelby. “You go first,” he said, backing out of her way.

Shelby took off for the trail that led down the hill, Luke close on her heels, but moving at such a quick pace that Plenty didn’t have the opportunity to nip at Chico. Bears have front legs shorter than their back legs and it was a bad idea to run up a hill or on level ground or, God forbid, up a tree, but if you traveled downhill, they were at a disadvantage. Ten or twenty feet and they’d trip and roll. But bears could get up a hill with those short front legs faster than any man. Or any horse carrying a man.

Shelby whacked Chico with the end of her rein and Luke dug his heels into Plenty. He hoped he could stay astride—he wasn’t nearly the horseman Shelby was. And it wasn’t a straight shot down—there were all those switchbacks to traverse. Behind them, Mama let go with a huge and frightening growl. If she got close, he hoped he could
level the rifle in time. While Shelby and Luke had to make use of the switchback trail, Mama Bear was making a straight line down, through the trees and shrubs.

Ahead of him, he saw Shelby managing Chico with one deft hand, her other reaching behind her for the repellent spray. It occurred to him to get back a little, in case she decided to use it and he caught the drift downwind. But getting away was the first priority—he didn’t want to have to shoot the mother of a cub.

About twenty feet into their descent, it happened. The bear stumbled over her short front legs, curled into a huge furry ball and began to roll out of control. Both Shelby and Luke pulled back on the reins and watched her roll right by them and down about twenty more feet. “Stay,” Luke said softly. He pulled the rifle off the saddle ties and had it at the ready.

“Don’t shoot her,” Shelby pleaded.

“Only if I have to,” he said. “Easy does it.”

Mama recovered, shook herself off, stood at full towering height, treated them to her meanest snarl and scrambled up the hill in the other direction, back to her cub at great speed, avoiding them.

“What’d’ya say we get the hell out of here?” he suggested.

Shelby whacked Chico on the butt and urged him forward, and to Luke’s amazement, he heard her laughter ring out as she descended. He was right on her heels, keeping up with her pretty well for someone who was reluctant to put down a rifle that was longer than his arm.

When they got to the bottom, she didn’t slow down. She put her heels to her mount and flew down the riverside, laughter echoing through the tall trees as she drove the horse. Even Plenty’s Arabian heritage wasn’t helping Luke keep up with that paint. There weren’t any people along the
river, but he couldn’t help but wonder what an onlooker might think, him chasing her with a rifle in his hand. But she was laughing wildly. Shelby had hunkered down in the saddle and showed her stuff; she was amazing. Lightweight, skilled, unafraid and fleet. She raced all the way back to the cabins and once there, her cheeks flushed, eyes aglitter, she grinned victoriously as he came into the clearing.

Luke learned something that moment that he hadn’t expected. This was a young woman who liked an adventure. She liked speed. A little bear scare lit her up brighter than the sun, that was for sure. Now, he didn’t kid himself that he knew everything about women, but he knew when to pay attention. Shelby was suddenly more alive than she’d been all afternoon. It turned him on almost unbearably.

“That was fun,” she said.

“Yeah, once the bear was gone. You’re a show-off.”

“There are very few places where I’m able to show off,” she said. “I’m good on a horse.”

“Yeah, you are,” he agreed. He brought Plenty up next to her so that he was facing Shelby. “Come here,” he said.

He moved forward and she met him willingly, leaning toward him. He tilted his head and pressed her lips for a brief, sensuous kiss. Luke moved over her mouth slowly, deeply. Each kiss put him closer to the very thing he thought was the worst idea he’d ever had, and the most fated. He slipped an arm around her waist and held her; she put her arms on his shoulders. When he left her lips, he said, “You’re killing me. Come inside with me for a few hours.”