Authors: Deb Stover
"Can we rent horses like we did last weekend?" Jeremy asked, going for the phone book on the counter. "Is Gordon's place accessible that way?"
"Yes, and if Ryan is on his mountain bike, he'd probably take that trail anyway."
Mike went to the window. "The rain's stopped and it looks like the clouds are breaking up. I'm going to call the sheriff about Ryan. Do you have a recent picture, just in case?"
Just in case..
. She swallowed the lump in her throat as he turned around with a sober expression. His eyes bore into her. She'd known Mike Bowen all her life, but for some reason his eyes haunted her now. Why?
"Someone should stay here in case Ryan comes home," she said. "And let Priscilla know what's going on."
"I'll do that, if you're sure you don't need me to come along," Mike said.
"Thanks, Mike, but I'd like you to stay here." She faced Jeremy. "I'll get changed while you call the stable, and I'll get Mike a picture of Ryan."
Which I pray the sheriff won't need.
"If they don't have horses to rent today, I'll buy the whole place," Jeremy vowed.
She smiled and raced up the stairs, praying her son was safe. He was all she had. She couldn't bear to lose Ryan.
In her room, she grabbed jeans, a wool sweater, hiking boots–typical high country attire. Mike and Jeremy had perfect timing. As she bent to tie her hiking boots, her gaze fell on Ryan's most recent school picture sitting on her dresser. His hazel eyes were fringed by sooty lashes, much darker than his red hair.
Sue rose and picked up the framed portrait for Mike and swallowed hard. Ryan's eyes... She blinked.
No, it couldn't be.
*
*
*
Gordon stretched and yawned, then grew suddenly conscious of the soft, warm body curled up against his side. Memories bombarded him and he looked down at Taylor's head, resting against his shoulder.
The comforter slipped off her creamy shoulder and his breath caught. She was so soft, so Taylor. So warm, so Taylor. So naked, so Taylor.
His male anatomy sprang to attention and he stroked the smooth slope of her shoulder along the edge of the blanket, down to the swell of her half-exposed breast. Watery sunlight slanted through the shutters, bathing her in gold. A fierce, sweet ache unfolded in his chest and he held her to him more tightly, kissing the top of her head.
Taylor was home.
Overcome with the enormity of having the only woman he'd ever loved in his arms, in his bed, and in his life again, he sighed. Forgiveness was a Good Thing, he decided, smiling when she wrinkled her face and opened her eyes.
Surprise registered in her eyes, then she blinked several times and a slow, sexy smile spread across her face. "Morning," she said huskily.
"Morning." He cupped her chin and kissed her soundly. She arched against him, all warm and sleepy and soft.
And Taylor.
"Sun's coming out," he said as their kiss ended. "Remember the waterfall?"
Her eyes brightened and she nodded. "Always."
"It's not a far hike from here."
"I'd like that," she said quietly. "A lot. We could pack a picnic."
She started to push back the comforter, but Gordon chuckled and rolled over to pin her playfully to the bed. "Not so fast. We have all day, thanks to that mud slide."
"Mmm. Even better."
Well over an hour later, Taylor stepped out into the rain-kissed air with Gordon. Max darted past them, but Gordon called the old dog back.
"Not this time, fella." He scratched the setter behind the ears and put him back inside with the promise of a good run tomorrow.
They walked in silence to the crest of the hill behind Gordon's cabin, where the terrain began to look familiar to Taylor. She held her breath, gazing down at the little canyon where the rain-swollen creek spilled down. "Silas Canyon?"
"Yep." Gordon pulled her into his arms and kissed her, making her shiver in anticipation of what they'd once shared in that very canyon.
Their first time. So long ago, but as vivid in her memory as if it had been yesterday. In a way, yesterday had been like a first time all over again.
"I want to make love with you behind the falls again," he murmured against her lips."
Desire shot through her, sure and sweet. "Yes," she breathed, not caring that the early June air was far cooler than it had been on that unforgettable Fourth of July.
He adjusted the backpack containing their picnic lunch and a bottle of wine, then took her hand. Taylor stared at his hand for several moments, then placed hers in his. Their gazes met and her heart must've stopped beating. Then he squeezed her hand and they began their trek together down into Silas Canyon to face the past.
And the future?
"Tell me about the medical research you want to do," he said as they made their way down the twisting trail.
She told him about her mother's asthma and allergies, and how she wanted to help others with that problem. Talking about it reminded her that medical research was something she'd never be able to do in Digby. She glanced askance at Gordon and forbid herself to think of anything but here and now.
And him.
They didn't have Henrietta along this time, but Taylor recognized the spot where Gordon had parked his Jeep that warm summer afternoon. She walked right to it and stopped, gazing up into his eyes. "Here?"
He nodded, his expression intense. "You remember."
"Always," she repeated.
Gordon pointed toward the falls. The sun was warm on their bare heads and faces, but the water would be frigid this early in the season. Actually, the water was always frigid in the high country. She smiled, remembering again.
He headed toward the falls without releasing Taylor's hand, but she stopped suddenly and pulled free. "Hey, this isn't how it happened."
His brow furrowed, he gave her a quizzical look. "No, not exactly."
Taylor bit her lower lip and looked around. Could she?
Hell, why not
? She unbuckled her fanny pack and let it slide to the ground, then bent to untie her hiking boots and kicked them off, too.
Straightening, she met Gordon's gaze. He devoured and caressed her with his eyes, his nostrils slightly flared, a thin film of perspiration beading his brow.
"Get with the program, Doctor," she said, unzipping her jeans and wriggling until they joined the growing pile near her feet.
"Holy..." Gordon drew a sharp breath as she reached for the hem of the sweater she'd borrowed from him and peeled it over her head.
Taylor had gone braless deliberately, savoring the decadent feel of angora against her bare nipples. Gordon's caressing gaze seemed to approve.
"You're beautiful," he said reverently.
Taylor flashed him a mischievous grin and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her plain white panties. "You planning to get naked or not?" she quipped, earning a smile from him in turn.
"Did I mention the fancy cabin someone built overlooking the–"
Taylor grabbed the sweater and clutched it to her bare breasts. "Are you
serious
?"
Laughing, he said, "Yeah, but they're only around in August and during the holidays." He pointed at the sweater in her hands. "Drop it, or I don't shed a stitch."
She threw it at him. "Better?"
"Oh, yeah." He slid the backpack from his shoulders and loosened his belt, then popped the snap at his waistband. After kicking off his boots without taking his eyes off her, he eased the zipper down, then slipped off his jeans.
His boxers did little to conceal the evidence of his desire.
What's up, Doc
? Taylor's mouth went dry and heat pooled low in her belly. Anticipation oozed through her.
He stood there in the sunshine wearing nothing but his boxer shorts, reminding her of the day she'd returned to Digby. She should've known then that this would happen.
Fate. Inevitable.
He bent down and gathered their discarded clothing and tucked it under his arm, then slung his backpack over one shoulder and took her hand. "Shall we?"
His gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts and she could barely breathe. She wanted him so much it hurt, but what a sweet, sweet ache.
"You ran last time," he said with a grin.
"Mmm, I'm older now." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "You don't have to chase me."
"Damn. I was looking forward to watching everything... jiggle."
Taylor laughed and did a little shimmy, savoring the heat of his gaze. "Satisfied?"
"Hardly."
Her gaze dropped to the prominent tent at the front of his boxers. "Yes, I can see that."
He laughed again and she warmed at the sound. Having Gordon in her life again meant more to her than she'd imagined it could. If only she could find a way to have him and her career....
Stop it, Taylor
. Now wasn't the time to think about that. Concentrating on this moment, she watched him place their clothes on a sunny ledge far from the waterfall's spray.
"No bears around, I hope," she said nervously, remembering the last time she'd seen Gordon in his underwear.
"Don't worry, you're safe with me." His expression and tone grew solemn. "I won't let a bear or anything else hurt you."
"I know that." She smiled up at him again, transported back to that warm Fourth of July between their junior and senior years in high school....
Gordon set his backpack against the back wall, as far from the falls as possible, then opened it and removed something blue. As he turned to face her, holding a faded blue blanket in his hands, memories surged to the forefront of her mind.
His expression intense and adoring, he stepped closer and unfolded the blanket, then spread it gently on the smooth stone slab at their feet. Taylor looked down at the blanket, where a set-in, rust-colored stain marred the middle. A blood stain?
Realization made her dizzy and tears sprang to her eyes. The memory of the day she'd given her virginity to him rose up between them, as special and powerful now as then. He'd kept the blanket all this time. No ordinary man would've done something like this, but Gordon was extraordinary. Special. She realized that more and more with each passing day.
He held his arms out to her, seeming suddenly, and endearingly, shy. Taylor walked into the protective circle of his embrace, surrounded by the special, gentle love that only this man could ever give her. "Love me, Gordon," she whispered.
"Always." And he did.
*
*
*
Ryan parked his bike near Gordon's front porch and bent down to pet Patches. The dog was panting heavily, his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth. Ryan bent closer. No wheezing.
Relieved, he straightened and looked around. No sign of anyone, but there were two Jeeps and Dr. Bowen's car parked in front of the cabin. With a sigh, Ryan went to the door and knocked. No answer. He knocked again and listened, hearing only Max inside scratching at the door and whimpering.
"Hey, Max, it's just me," Ryan said. Patches growled. "Oh, lighten up, Patch."
Ryan decided to decorate Gordon's yard–especially around Dr. Bowen's car–with tracks, then head back down the mountain before they returned. They'd obviously gone for a hike, since all the cars were here and the road was still blocked. He glanced up at the sky. Clouds were gathering again. He'd better hurry.
He untied the track-maker from his handlebars and moved closer to the Volkswagen, but the ground was already covered with tracks. Bear tracks. The skin on the back of Ryan's neck felt all prickly, just like when his mom caught him doing something he knew he shouldn't.
"Hey, squirt," Gordon called from the far side of the cabin.
Holding his track-maker behind his back, Ryan whirled around to face Gordon and Dr. Bowen. "Hey, Gordon, looks like that rowdy bear's been here again."
Gordon rolled his eyes and Dr. Bowen smiled.
And they were holding hands.
"Uh, see?" Ryan said, pointing at the ground in front of Dr. Bowen's car. "And over there, too." He indicated an area closer to the cabin.
"Give it up, Ryan." Gordon held out his hand. "Give me that gadget."
Ryan swallowed hard. "What gadget?"
"The one behind your back."
Uh-oh
. Ryan had almost forgotten the track-maker. He brought it out from behind his back. "I didn't get a chance to use it yet," he said. "These are real tracks."