Almost Heaven (5 page)

“It's good to know what you're getting into. I've made up brochures on everything you need to think about. If you're really going to do this, it's a bigger commitment than most people expect.”

“The worthwhile relationships always are.”

Was it her imagination, or did he sound as if he was hurting? It made her remember Gramma's words. Cancer is a hard enemy, she'd said. Was Cameron thinking about the wife he'd lost? It sounded as if he had been devoted to her, had cared for her through her illness.

What did they say about him? That he was a rare and devoted man. She ached for his loss.

It was a good thing he'd gotten up the courage to
ask her about finding a horse. She
so
wanted to help him. She shouldered through her door, ignored the pile of paperwork heaped on her secondhand desk and flipped through a drawer for the right brochures. “I'll give you my rental rates for the different horses. Rent—if you want to start riding lessons before we find your perfect mount.”

“Wow.” He bent to study the brochure, giving her a perfect view of a cowlick at the crown of his head.

Her stomach fluttered, and she knew it was that sense of rightness, when everything fell into place. She liked to think the work she did with her stable made a difference, however small in the world, for the people and children who came here.

By the look of hope on Cameron's face, lined by sun and hardship, she knew he would find happy hours ahead and the companionship he'd been needing.

He refolded the brochure and stuck it in his back jeans pocket. “I'm real sure about this. I've been giving it a lot of thought for some time.”

“Good. When do you want to get started?”

“I've got time now.” All of it lonely, so much of it that it hurt to think about too much. He pulled a quarter-folded section of newspaper from his back pocket and studied it. “I've circled a few ads that look good. What do you think?”

She bent close, taking the page he offered. The newsprint rattled as she studied it. Cameron dared to edge close enough to peer over her shoulder. He'd never stood so close to her before, and it was like
being touched by spring. She smelled sweet like flowers.

She'd sure make a nice wife. Where did that thought come from? The realization filled him, steady like winter rain, when he ought to be paying attention to what she was saying. Her mouth was moving, he could hear the gentle alto of her words, but he couldn't focus.

His pulse drummed in his ears and seconds stretched long, the way they did when he was on the job, his Smith & Wesson drawn, adrenaline pumping and senses heightened.

There might not be a perp pulling a gun on him, but as he felt the silken graze of Kendra's hair against his jaw, he knew this moment was as pivotal.

Kendra must have realized stray strands of her hair had escaped her ponytail. Her hand brushed those wisps into place behind her dainty ear, where a small diamond winked on her earlobe.

She liked jewelry, he realized, something he'd never noticed before. The necklace, the tasteful set of pierced earrings and a small ruby ring on her right hand.

“I know this person, and no, this isn't a good deal. Basically, she's wanting what a luxury sedan would bring in when what she really has is a base-model economy car.”

“I like a woman who uses terms I can understand.”

He was rewarded with her gentle smile. “This one's a student of mine. Her mare is a nice midsize car at
a reasonable market price. She's one aisle over, if you want to go take a look at her.”

“I'm here. Might as well.” He tried to sound casual, as if it was no big deal.

No, this was
huge.
It had been tough coming to the place in his life where he'd finished grieving, hard to let go and accept that he still had a life. And that Deb, the angel she surely was, would want him to live and not just put one foot in front of the other, sleepwalking through life.

Life was a finite gift. He'd learned how important it was to spend this time on earth wisely, with love and purpose. That was why he was here now, following Kendra through the stable and into the bright light of day.

 

This was one thing of about a million that she loved about her work. Helping bring a deserving horse and rider together. And in Cameron's case, it felt like a personal mission as she arrowed through the sunny grounds, waving to kids on their horses calling out her name.

“Are those kids you found horses for?”

“No, kids I taught to ride.”

“Cool.” His boots crunched in the gravel next to her. “Do you teach all the riding classes?”

“About half of them.”

No matter how fast she walked, he stayed right there at her side. This was business, and showing Cameron around was no different than the hundreds
of other times she'd done this with other potential boarders.

Why was she more aware of the sound of his gait, confident and strong and slightly uneven? Had he been wounded in the line of duty? He might be casually dressed in a T-shirt and jeans instead of his navy-blue uniform, but there was no way on this earth she could forget he was a sheriff.

She turned cold inside and refused to let the next thoughts come. Or the memories of a time she needed to forget and never think of again.

Could a person bury memories forever? She was going to give it her best shot. What mattered was this life she'd built, the kids practicing their riding skills in the different arenas or paddocks. The giggling girls in groups of two or three that rode off on the manicured trails.

This was her life. Think about that, Kendra.

“This is the riding arena.” The covered, open-air area was fenced with riser seating on the far side. “We do our Western training and competitions here.”

“I see the barrels.” He squinted, gesturing to where a white mare dug into a tight corner around the final barrel, kicking up dust on her ride home. “Is that the horse?”

“That's her. She's a pleasure to ride.”

“She looks too fancy for me.”

“She's well priced, but she's trained for competition.” How could she be so dense? “I never asked what type of riding you wanted to do.”

“The sheriff over at Moose Creek is a good friend of mine. He's a horseman and takes his mount out in the mountains to hunt and fish. Says there's nothing like riding trails to get away from it all.”

“He's right. That's what you'd like? A horse to trail ride with?”

“I used to head out into the mountains all the time. Hiking, skiing, fishing, hunting, camping. Then Deb got sick and everything changed.”

Life could be so unfair sometimes. Kendra didn't have to ask if he'd had a happy marriage. It was in his voice, on his face, in his stance.

“Hey, Kendra.” Susan, the rider on the white mare, headed over. “I noticed you two checking out my horse. Are you thinking about buying?”

“He's just starting to look.” Kendra leaned her forearms on the top rail of the board fence, glad to see one of her oldest friends. “You know Cameron, right?”

“Sure.” Susan gave Cameron her best smile. “Not here to give any of us a ticket, are you, Sheriff?”

“Nope. Off duty today.” He offered his hand to the horse and let the mare scent his palm.

There was something about the man's hands. Something rare and striking. They were strong and square with broad palms and long, thick-knuckled fingers. His skin was bronzed by a summer spent out of doors and dusted with a trace of dark hair. Hands that looked brawny enough to break bones.

His tenderness was unexpected as he stroked the
mare's velvety nose. The mare responded with a friendly nicker deep in her throat. Kendra watched, astonished, as before her eyes Cameron's tough-guy shield fell away, the only face of this man she'd ever seen.

Standing before her, graced by the vivid sun, the real Cameron Durango was revealed. His integrity of steel. His caring nature. His excruciating loneliness.

As the lucky mare nickered again, nudging his hand for more attention, Kendra realized she wasn't afraid around him, not any longer.

She felt safe with him, because look at him. He was a truly good man. Hard lines cut into the corners of his eyes and around his mouth. Put there by hardship and worry and sadness. By grief she couldn't begin to compare hers with.

How could she not like him? He was lonely, and she knew something about that. She'd do her very best to find him the right horse. The friend he was looking to make.

He looked over his glasses at the woman in the saddle. “Why are you selling her?”

“Financial problems.”

What was her name? Susan? She'd been a few years behind him in school—and sure looked sad about having to sell her horse.

He supposed it was easy to become attached. It was just as well he didn't want such a…a
woman's
horse. “She's way too fancy for the likes of me.”

Susan looked relieved. “Kendra, I'll stable her myself.”

“No problem.” Kendra shrugged, waving off some unspoken concern with one slim hand.

She obviously ran a healthy business here. The girls clinging to the backs of their big horses ringed the arena, taking turns at the barrels or, in the corner, waiting for the comments of a woman instructor.

It was clear that Kendra was a good businesswoman, but she wasn't ruthless. He hadn't thought she was, or he wouldn't be standing here, but it was reassuring to see.

“If you want to wait a few minutes until Colleen is done with her class…” Kendra said without looking at him, taking great interest in how the class across the way was going. “It's too bad I have a class in a few minutes, or I'd personally stay to show you some of our trails.”

What?
“You're sending me out in the mountains with a stranger?”

“Don't worry, Colleen has all her shots.”

He liked a woman with a sense of humor. “I'm glad to know that, but my big worry is you. You don't invite greenhorns like me out here, do you, and play practical jokes on them?”

“It's tempting, but I won't put you on the back of a wild horse and abandon you.”

“Whew. I was worried.”

“You look it. You have a suspicious nature, Sheriff.”

“Just because I'm suspicious doesn't mean they aren't after me.”

“That's paranoid, not suspicious.”

“I knew that didn't sound right. Say, how long are your classes? I don't mind hanging around until you're done. I've got nothing else to do.”

Kendra waved at the instructor from the class in the far corner that was disbanding.

Maybe he ought to be insulted Kendra was trying hard to get rid of him. She was probably busy, and he
had
taken up a chunk of her time. Why did he feel disappointed at the idea of her leaving him?

At first he barely noticed the brunette approaching on horseback. She drew her horse to a stop, studied them both and couldn't hide the big grin on her face. “Whew, what brings you out here, Sheriff? It's nothing serious, right?”

Kendra spoke up. “Cameron here is thinking about buying a horse and boarding here.”

“Well, don't let me get in the way of business.” The instructor tossed Kendra a secret look. “I don't mind taking the last class of the day for you. I could use the extra hours if you want to take the sheriff into the hills.”

As if mulling it over, Kendra blew out a breath, ruffling her wispy bangs. “Fine by me. That is, if the sheriff can stand more of my company.”

“I've suffered through worse.”

“Me, too.” Trouble twinkled in her eyes. “That
only leaves one question, cowboy. Are you ready to ride?”

“Sure thing. I'm up for the challenge.”

Her smile was like heavenly light, warming him to the soul, as she spun away on the heel of her scuffed riding boots, calling out to someone just out of sight in the stable. Why did it feel as if she were taking his heart with her?

K
endra gave the cinch a hard tug and tightened the buckle a notch. She always did her best not to be alone with any of the men who'd come her way, in a business sense. She'd gotten very practiced at it, but apparently not practiced enough because she was alone with Cameron.

Well, not
alone,
exactly, considering there were about fifty people around within calling distance. But soon they would be.

This is business, she reminded herself firmly. She was safe with Cameron. Not only that, but it felt like divine intervention, somehow. As if she was the one who could best help him find the right horse and a new, rewarding hobby to fill his time.

The horses in her life had certainly made hers fulfilling.

The old gelding she was saddling waited patiently
as she gave the cinch a final tug. One of the first horses she'd gotten for her ranch and her best beginner-class horse.

“You're a good gentleman, Palouse.” Kendra patted the gray roan, his dappled coat and his white mane a throwback to his wild mustang heritage, and let him nuzzle her gloved hand affectionately. She slipped him a peppermint.

“I see you're a tough master.” Cameron ambled close, planted his fists. “Do the animal-control people know about you?”

“They sure do. I'm on the top of their list to bring recovered horses to.”

“Suppose I should have guessed that before I tried to tease. Horses must be abused, like any animal can be.”

Or person, Kendra didn't add. “It certainly isn't the animal's fault. Horses need to trust their owners one hundred percent. They want to trust. They are loving creatures that don't deserve harsh treatment. I've rehabilitated about a dozen horses. Palouse was one of them.”

“You'd never know it. He's as calm as could be. You must have done wonders with him.”

“He's the wonder. You wait until you get to know more horses, then you'll know what I'm talking about. They are special blessings, and to share trust and love with them is a privilege.”

There was no mistaking the big gelding's trust in her as he watched her with an adoring gaze.

That said a lot about the woman, in Cam's opinion. Professionally and personally.

“I've got Palouse saddled. How about you, are you ready to go?” She gathered the long leather straps of the reins.

As if he knew what to do with those. “Are you sure he'll go easy on me?”

“He's one of the gentlest horses I know. Six-year-olds learn to ride on him.”

“I'm well past six, so I reckon I can handle him.”

“That's the attitude I like to hear. Just put your foot in this stirrup and grab the saddle horn. Give a little hop and lift up into the saddle. Like this.”

She demonstrated, rising up so she stood straight in the stirrup, her weight balanced on her one foot as if she were born to do it. “Ease your leg over his back, careful not to scrape him with your boot and settle into the seat. Don't let your weight drop, just lower your fanny into the saddle.”

“I can do that. I've watched enough westerns, I ought to be able to ride by osmosis.”

“Fine, then mount up, could you?”

“Sure thing, little lady.”

Kendra held the stirrup steady when he had trouble catching it with the toe of his boot. Just as she'd do for any new student taking his first ride.

Why did she feel different? It was as if something was buzzing around her, like the charge in the air before a thunderstorm.

But the skies were clear to the west and to the south, where summer storms often started.

It was Cameron. He seemed to take up all the empty space around her, although it made no sense. She could smell the clean woodsy scent of him and hear the creak of leather as he stepped into the stirrup. Muscles corded beneath his sun-bronzed forearms as he rose into the saddle, casting his shadow over her.

How could she not be aware of him? Of his power? Of his striking male presence? She didn't want to trust any man again, but that didn't mean she was immune to a good man's appeal. It only proved she should have paid Colleen to take Cameron around instead of taking over the class.

Why hadn't she? It didn't make any sense. What was the difference if Colleen was paid for an extra hour on the trail or in the arena? Why hadn't Kendra thought of that at the time?

Because there was obviously something wrong with her brain whenever the handsome sheriff was around, that's why. As if her synapses misfired. How else could she explain it? First, she let him repair her trailer tire—
not
what she'd let any man other than her brother-in-law do. Now she was riding out with Cameron.

Hadn't she learned enough lessons from Jerrod?

Yes. She might be
aware
of Cameron but that didn't mean she was
interested
in him. It was something that could never be. The barricade around
her heart was impenetrable and was going to stay that way.

She slipped Jingles a peppermint from her jeans pocket and pressed her forehead to the mare's sun-warmed neck. The comforting scent of horse eased away the worries knotted in Kendra's stomach.

Tension eased from the back of her neck as Jingles cuddled back, leaning against Kendra's body in unspoken affection. As if the mare was telling her,
You're not alone. I'm here. You can count on me.

“And you can count on me, friend,” Kendra whispered, tracing her hand through the mare's platinum mane. “Let's go for a ride.”

Jingles stomped impatiently, and Kendra didn't look at the man watching her as she hiked up into the saddle and reined the mare around. Why did she feel Cameron's presence as tangibly as the heat of the sun on her face?

She demonstrated how to hold the reins in one hand, and leaned over to make sure there was enough slack in the straps he held. “Palouse knows to follow me. Just keep the reins at the saddle horn, easy like this. Don't jerk them and don't kick him.”

“So basically I just sit here.”

“Yep. Palouse knows what he's doing, so you can just enjoy your first ride. Just trust him and enjoy the view.”

“I thought horses could be unpredictable.”

“They can be, but Palouse is eighteen. That's pretty old for a horse. This graybeard's seen just about ev
erything, and he knows his job. He takes it seriously. He'll take good care of you, if you're kind to him. That's the way it works best in the horse world.”

“Know what? The ground
does
look a long way down from up here.”

“And it's hard when you hit.”

“You're teasing me, right?”

“Sure. Yep. Just teasing you.”

She took off ahead of him, and the big horse lumbered into motion beneath him, scaring him near to death because it just didn't feel right. He was going to tip out of the saddle. He had some real concerns, the ground
did
look like it was uncomfortable to land on.

And was he thinking about falling to his death? No, he was watching Kendra. He was noticing the sparkling warmth within her.

The horse beneath him picked up speed as they strolled through the stable yard, his gait an unsettling rocking and swaying that was likely to make Cam seasick. Either that, or he was going to lose his balance and fall like a klutz into the gravel.

He was an athletic man and an outdoorsman, and he liked every outdoor activity he'd ever tried. Except this. This was
not
like pedaling a bike or zipping down a hillside on a motorcycle. He wasn't in control, and he didn't know if he liked it.

You've got two choices, man. Abandon your plan, or go ahead with it.

Maybe he would learn to love riding horses. Al
though that probability was growing smaller as time passed. The seasick feeling was getting worse with the way the horse was rocking forward and back, and Cam was sitting up on top like a tiny boat on a rolling ocean. Yep, that's what this reminded him of. The ground swayed beneath him.

People called this fun?

His stomach clenched like a fist. He wasn't going to get sick, right? In front of Kendra?
That
would be real attractive. She'd certainly never look at him again in the same light.

If it's not too much trouble, Lord, please get me through this. I'll tough it out, I promise. Just a little help would be appreciated.

“This is why I had to have this property.” Kendra's soft alto, as gentle as spring rain, caught his attention. Made him look up and notice that the golden fields of her horse ranch had fallen behind them and they'd crossed into the tree line.

They were surrounded by sparse lodgepole pine, cedar and fir. The evergreens clung to the stubborn earth with tenacious roots, their branches spread wide to catch the sun. The trees were scattered, casting shadows across the open ground between them.

He forgot to feel sick taking in the awesome beauty of the rising foothills, the towering amethyst peaks of the Bridger Range ahead and the true blue of the Montana sky above. But such beauty seemed fleeting when Kendra pulled back her sleek golden mare so they were side by side.

Her Stetson cut a jaunty angle to block the sun's glare. She studied him from under the gray brim. “Don't you love this?”

“What's not to love?” He could learn to like feeling seasick.

She apparently wasn't fooled as she squinted, studying him. Did he look as green as he felt?

“Do you want to head back?”

That would mean his time would be over. That was
not
what he wanted. No way.

He would stick it out, whether he survived it or not. “I'm likin' this well enough.”

“I think you're lying.” Her eyes twinkled.

“Yeah, but I
will
like this. Once I get the hang of it. It's kind of like riding a canoe upside down in an ocean.”

“At least there's no storm swells.”

“True. No hurricanes.”

“No waterspouts, whirlpools or tidal waves. See? Riding is pretty tame compared to other sports.”

“Like what sports? High-altitude parachuting? Free rock climbing?” He gave thanks they'd come to a swaying stop. “You ought to smile more often, Miss McKaslin.”

“I smile all the time.”

“You smile about as often as I do.”

Cameron had a whole lot more to be sad about, in her opinion, than she ever would. No, the Lord had been generous with all His blessings in her life. But Cameron…

She shut off the image of him taking care of an ill woman, bringing her meals, tucking the blankets beneath her chin and reading to her in the soft glow of a small lamp. She knew he'd cared for his wife like that, because she'd seen the tenderness in him when he'd patted Palouse's neck. The goodness shone in him like the sun, radiant and unmistakable and genuine.

Time for a subject change. The more of a hero she made Cameron Durango, the harder it was going to be to keep her shields up full force.

Business. This is about business, Kendra. Stop forgetting that! She nosed Jingles into motion along the groomed trail, between the sweep of fir boughs and the call of a red-tailed hawk overhead.

“We offer over forty acres of riding trails on-site, and national forest borders one side of my property. There are miles of old logging-road trails, although it's not the best time of year to go wandering up into the mountains alone.”

“I suppose that's what those ropes across the trail ahead would mean.”

“Exactly, but we'll ride around them. I think we're both experienced enough to handle any wilderness situation.”

“I'm armed, if that helps.”

“Am I that dangerous, Sheriff?”

“Maybe,” he quipped. “No, I'm the only sheriff in these parts. When I'm off duty, I'm still on call.”

“You want to keep going?” Her question was gently spoken, but it was a challenge.

He couldn't resist a good challenge. “You lead the way. I'll follow.”

“Here's a hint. Don't look down, okay? You'll do a lot better. C'mon. I promise, you'll like what you see if you just stick with it.”

He already did. She balanced ahead of him on that golden horse of hers, riding into the long rays of light arrowing through the trees, her blond hair whipping behind her.

The horse lurched forward beneath him. Cameron swallowed. Don't look down? Then he'd keep his gaze on her. Fir boughs brushed his knees and his elbows as he followed her. He wouldn't think about the narrow path the horse was now following, or that it fell away into nothing, except for the sturdy split-rail guard that stood between him and the hereafter.

“You let kids ride on this?”

“Trail safety is part of the lessons they take. You aren't afraid of heights, are you, Sheriff?”

“No. Heights don't bug me. Falling hard and breaking a few bones does.”

“It isn't a far drop, and the trail is as wide as a road. Horses are surefooted. You're perfectly safe. What do you think of the view?”

He'd forgotten to look around him. He'd been so busy watching her. Watching the graceful arch of her neck, the delicate cut of her shoulders. The hint
of her shoulder blades against the soft white knit shirt she wore.

The golden shimmer of her hair, caught back in a white scrunch thing at the base of her neck, shivered over her shoulder as she glanced back at him.

“When I first viewed this property, I was disappointed. The outbuildings were so run-down, useless, and the house hadn't been lived in for twenty years. But the moment Jingles and I set out here up this trail, I knew I'd come home. Look.”

They curved around a granite outcropping and the rough amethyst peaks of the Bridger Range speared into a sky close enough to touch. The rugged foothills of meadows and trees spread out around them, climbing upward, as if in reverence to the mountains.

“God's handiwork sure is something.” It was all he could think of to say.