Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (8 page)

BOOK: Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5)
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Chapter 9

 

 

 Wood crackled and popped loudly, the sounds intermingled with the noisy chirping of birds. Chase stirred, the unfamiliar sounds echoing in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter from the bright sunlight that filtered through the trees. Was it morning already? Hadn’t he just closed his eyes?

He yawned, then stretched the rigid muscles in his arms and legs, and rolled onto his back. His eyes opened, and he shrank back for a split second. Looming over him, Sarah’s mutt dangled its tongue in his face, its hot, moist breath nearly making him gag. He’d never get used to that dog hovering inches from him every time he opened his eyes.

“Goddamn mutt,” he growled, and pushed the animal’s blocky head away. He raised up on his elbows and peered around the campsite. Sarah’s sleeping blanket was empty, and she was nowhere to be seen. His eyes scanned the trees, and he pushed himself fully off the ground with a groan. He stretched his arms in the air, and rotated his shoulders, working the tightness out of his muscles. Yesterday had been one hell of a long day, and sleeping on hard ground didn’t help. 

“Where’s your owner,” he said to the dog, which pranced around him, tail wagging enthusiastically. He had no idea what the mutt wanted. He didn’t speak canine.  Heck, he didn’t even like dogs. Why had this one latched on to him? Sarah couldn’t have gone far, though. She wouldn’t leave her pet behind.

He ran a hand over his face. The rough whiskers of a beard scraped like sandpaper across his palms. He probably looked like a mountain man at this point. He hadn’t shaved in six days. Hopefully before this day was over, he’d be soaking under a hot shower.

Chase walked around camp, working the kinks from his thigh and calf muscles. Already his legs felt less tight, and he followed the sound of the trickling creek he remembered from last night. Some cold water on his face might fully wake him up.

He thought about his climb back down the canyon to the Yellowstone River. Another strenuous day lay ahead, and the sooner he got underway, the sooner he could be back to where he belonged. He glanced through the trees where the opposite rim of the canyon became visible, the brilliant yellows and reds of the rocks shining like gold in the morning sun. The roar of the Upper Falls had been a steady background noise all night.

He pushed through the undergrowth, eager for a drink of water. A cup of coffee was probably too much to hope for. The trees opened to a small clearing where the stream meandered through the forest. The sight before him stopped him like an opposing team’s defensive tackle. 

The creek trickled off to the right. Sitting at its banks was Sarah. He stared, rooted to the spot. She’d unstrapped the belt from around her waist, and unbuttoned the top few buttons on her shirt. Her hair spilled in wavy cascades over her shoulder and down her back. She lifted it aside and tilted her head, running a strip of wet cloth along her neck, and down the front of her shirt. The motion caused the loose shirt to slide down her arm, exposing her shoulder and the swell of her breasts. She closed her eyes, and the slight smile on her face gave off an expression of pure joy as she savored the luxury of her wash.

Chase’s mouth went dry, and he groaned silently. He grabbed hold of the tree he stood beside to curtail the urge to walk up behind her and bury his face in her hair. His hands tingled, wanting to feel her silky skin, aching to caress her. The view she presented beckoned for his touch. He licked his lips, imagining her moan with pleasure while he trailed kisses up and down her neck. Visions of her beneath him with that look of ecstasy on her face caused his gut to tighten painfully.

He tore his eyes away.
Russell, you low-life piece of crap. You’re acting like a teenage peeping tom.

He was about to turn and head back the way he’d come, when she gasped. Hastily, she pulled the shirt over her shoulder and fumbled with the buttons.

“Uh…I didn’t know where you were,” he called lamely, clearing his throat. He scratched at the back of his head, feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Rising quickly from the ground, she pulled the belt around her waist and headed towards him.

“Next time, make your presence known.” Her eyes shot daggers at him, and she elbowed her way past.

“You missed a button,” he called after her, and grinned when she sped up and practically ran back to camp.
There won’t be a next time, Angel.
Time to get home. Chase quickly strode to the creek and splashed water on his face. He wished the stream were deeper than a few inches. He needed a cold soaking right about now.

He walked back to camp, and spied Sarah sitting by the fire. She’d braided her hair again. She didn’t look up or acknowledge him, but merely pushed a piece of bark his way. Some of those roots she had roasting all night rolled around on the piece of wood. Chase eyed the food skeptically. They looked like shriveled-up prunes. He sat down across from her and pulled the makeshift plate onto his lap.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. He held one of the fig-sized roots between two fingers, and tentatively bit into it. His eyebrows rose, and his mouth watered in response to the pleasant taste in his mouth. He looked over at Sarah. To his surprise, the root had a sweet flavor, similar to a yam.

“What do you call this?” he asked.

“It’s root from the camas flower.”

“Those blue flowers you were digging up yesterday?” He recalled her foraging through a meadow, digging up flowers with a stick the day before when they’d stopped for a rest break. He’d done nothing but sit and catch his breath.

She looked up at him from across the fire, studying his face with narrowed eyes. Her blue eyes shot icy daggers at him. He hadn’t noticed the knife in her hand, which she now pointed first in his direction, then made a sweeping motion through the air with it. “You are observant, and you learn fast. You are a grown man. Yet sometimes you behave like a little boy who needs a good switching from his mother because he forgets his manners.”

One eyebrow shot up in amusement, and he grinned. “My mom never used a switch on me, Angel.”

“Perhaps she should have,” Sarah retorted, her chin raised.

Well, well. This could get mighty interesting
. Her tongue-lashing was quite a turn-on.  It would be so much fun to spar with her right now. But he held back. Sarah had crawled under his skin in ways that gave him a decidedly uncomfortable feeling. He shifted his haunches on the hard ground. He never cared about other people’s opinion of him. That way he wouldn’t get hurt when they left. His old man sure hadn’t cared enough to stick around while he was growing up. His hand automatically went to the dog tags around his neck.

Coach Beckman, the one man whose opinions had mattered, was gone. His own mother had never asked him for anything, whether it was doing well in school or on the football field. Sometimes he wished she had held him more accountable for his actions.  Deep down, he suspected she was afraid she might push him away if she was a strict parent. She always blamed herself for his old man walking away. Chase often wondered if he hadn’t left because of him.

He popped another camas root in his mouth. Looking up, Sarah sat, still studying his face.

“You’re right, Angel. She probably should have beat me once or twice,” he said slowly. He rose to his feet. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I probably would be dead right now if it weren’t for you. But I need to get back to my time. I don’t belong here.”

He stood over her, and held out his hand to help her to her feet. She hesitated, and eyed him warily before she finally placed her small hand in his much larger one. He pulled her up easily. She stood mere inches from him, and he clenched his jaw.
No, damn it! Don’t get any stupid ideas.
He pulled his hand away. “So long, Sarah.” He turned and headed towards the canyon.

“Good-bye, Chase.” Her soft voice carried on the morning breeze. Her mutt bounced along beside him, tail in the air.

“Go on, get back to your owner,” he snarled. He kicked out at the dog. Grizzly barked, but didn’t follow any further. Chase stood at the edge of the gaping canyon, staring at the river far below. He drew in a deep breath. “Okay, Russell, back down you go.” He glanced over his shoulder one last time. Sarah stood leaning against a tree, watching him. He tried to burn her face into his mind, then took the first step into the deep scar in the earth.

******

 

Sarah sat by the fire, waiting. He would be back. She didn’t believe for a minute that something would magically transport him two hundred years into the future down in that canyon. But how had this man gotten himself lost in the mountains to begin with? His companions had obviously left him for dead in that storm. Her conscience wouldn’t allow her to just walk away.

What a strange man, she pondered. To look at him, he projected strength and confidence, much like her father. But the similarity ended there. It was as if his body had matured, but in many ways, his mind hadn’t followed. How could any man live that way? It was inconceivable to her how a man could act so completely without regard for responsibility, as if life was nothing but a game. Was it possible for the mind to catch up to the body? And what would it take for that to happen?

She tossed a stick in the fire, sending up embers. She couldn’t explain it, but Chase had stirred something in her that had sat dormant up until now - the need to feel like a woman. No man had ever caused such feelings in her. And there were plenty of men who knew how to take care of themselves in these mountains who had shown an interest.

She laughed out loud. Hadn’t she just told her parents that she didn’t want or need a man? Why was she smitten with this one, who knew absolutely nothing about surviving here? And on top of that, he’d been insolent with her on more than one occasion.  Her father and brothers would have done him bodily harm had any of them been witness to his brazen behavior.

Early this morning, she had taken the opportunity to steal away for a few moments of privacy. Chase had been sound asleep when she left the warmth of her blanket to indulge in a quick wash by the creek. Why had she not heard his approach? The man moved about as stealthy as a herd of bison. When she’d caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, her heart had changed places with her stomach for a few seconds.

The smoldering look in his eyes had made her head spin, and she couldn’t remember ever feeling so vulnerable. It wasn’t the leering kind of look she’d received from trappers at rendezvous in years past, or those who came to trade in the valley. No. Sarah suddenly realized the look she’d seen in Chase’s stare held the same kind of admiration as she had seen in her father’s eyes whenever he gazed upon her mother. Warmth suddenly spread from her insides all the way to her extremities.

With a trembling hand, she reached out and scratched Grizzly’s ears. The dog whined softly next to her. “You miss him, too?” she asked softly.

She looked up at the sun straight above. He’d been gone the entire morning. How long did it take to descend into the canyon? She didn’t think it would take more than an hour. With a deep sigh, Sarah pushed herself off the ground and walked the short distance to the canyon rim. She peered into the chasm from an outcropping. The river flowed far below, and she scanned as far as she could see in both directions, her gaze coming to rest on a small moving object close to the river’s edge at one point. Chase! He’d made it into the canyon safely. How long had he been there already, searching for his mysterious time portal?

“This is crazy, Sarah,” she spoke out loud, even before the thought of following him into the canyon entered her mind. Why not? She could help him in his search. Her father’s disapproving face flashed before her eyes. He would not be happy with her.  Sarah laughed. Nothing she’d done these past few days would meet favorably with her parents. In an act of rebellion, Sarah took a slow step over the edge. She turned and climbed backwards on hands and feet, cautiously feeling for a foothold, or a tree root to grab on to.

Grizzly barked furiously from the rim. “Stay,” she called to her dog. “I’ll be back soon.” The dog continued to bark and whine, as if warning her that climbing into that canyon would only lead to disaster.

******

Chase retraced his steps along the river for the third time. He ventured as close to the base of the falls as was possible. The cotton shirt clung to his skin, soaked through from the heavy mist and spray of millions of gallons of water that plunged into the canyon.

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