Always a McBride (11 page)

“Well, damn!” Taylor swore. Normally, he would have been furious with himself for losing his head and forgetting where he was, but when he looked down at Phoebe, water was streaming from her hair, her blouse was plastered to her breasts, and she looked like a drowned rat. Any other woman he knew would have been, at the very least, less than happy with him for carrying her out into the middle of a storm, but as his gaze met hers, her lips twitched and her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. And suddenly they were both laughing.

“Sorry about that,” he said with a rueful grin as he quickly stepped back into the shallow cave and set her on her feet. “I lost my head there for a second.”

Surprised that he'd admitted it—losing control wasn't something she suspected he acknowledged often— Phoebe was amazed that a kiss and a little rain could turn him into such a likable man. Who would have thought it?

“Me, too,” she said with a smile. “I forgot all about the others. They'll be wondering where we are.”

It was the wrong thing to say. His smile faded. “We need to get back.” Casting an eye at the still-dripping sky, he said, “It looks like it's just about passed over us. It's clearing to the west.”

The sky was, indeed, clearing—the words were hardly out of his mouth when the sun broke free of the clouds low on the horizon. Disappointed and hurt—was he
that
anxious to get back to the others?—she forced a smile that never reached her eyes. “Then I guess we'd better go. I'm sure Zeke's figured out by now that we're not going to find any dry wood. I hope he brought down sleeping bags. It's going to be cold tonight.”

The temperature had already started to drop because
of the rain—and she was quickly becoming chilled. She tried to tell herself that it was because of her wet clothes, but she knew it had more to do with Taylor's cool insistence on returning to camp. How could he kiss her as though he didn't want ever to let her go, then turn around and walk away as if nothing had happened between them? Was he really that cold?

Hurt, confused, she would have liked nothing more than to head back to town then and there, but that was impossible, of course. It would take hours just to reach the homestead, and it would be dark long before then. So she headed for camp instead, uncaring that the trees were still dripping. Behind her, she could feel Taylor right on her heels, taking every step she did. Fighting sudden, foolish tears, she never looked back.

 

“Hey, there you are!” Zeke greeted them as they walked into camp twenty minutes later. “We were beginning to wonder if you were in trouble.”

“Hey!” Joe exclaimed. “What do you mean
we?
I knew they were fine. Didn't I tell you they were both smart enough to find a place to get out of the rain?”

“If I remember correctly,” Elizabeth replied with a grin, “you were giving them five more minutes, then you were going to go looking for them.

“I kept telling them both you wouldn't show up until it stopped raining,” she continued, smiling at Phoebe, “but would they listen to me? Of course not.”

Her clothes still damp, sure that the kiss they shared must somehow be stamped all over her face, Phoebe forced a smile. “We found a small cave where we could get out of the storm. That's when we saw the wolf.”

“What! Which one?”

“A big gray one,” Taylor said. “I think it was a male, but it was hard to tell in the rain.”

“It was magnificent,” Phoebe added. “He just appeared out of nowhere, and the next thing we knew, he was gone. He never made a sound.”

Pleased, Elizabeth smiled. “Thank God! That must have been Napoleon's grandson, Duke. I haven't seen him in a while. I was afraid something had happened to him.”

“I told you he was fine,” Zeke told her, slipping an arm around her shoulders to give her a hug. “He looks just like Napoleon. He can take care of himself.” Suddenly noticing that neither one of them had collected any wood, he said, “What happened to the firewood?”

“We dropped it when it started to rain,” Phoebe admitted. “Sorry.”

“Don't worry about it,” Zeke assured her. “We brought plenty of charcoal along, just in case. You never know what the weather's going to do up here, even in the summer, so we've learned to be prepared. Don't worry. We won't freeze tonight.”

“Or go hungry,” Elizabeth added. “We threw a tarp over the kitchen stuff once we realized it was going to rain, so we won't have to eat wet sandwiches tonight, thank God. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving!”

Thankful to have something to do to get her mind off Taylor, Phoebe said, “What can I do to help you get dinner ready?”

“Make a salad while the guys set up the table,” Elizabeth replied promptly. “We're having fettuccine Alfredo, and I brought the sauce from home. All we have to do is boil the water for the noodles, heat the sauce, and we can eat.”

She didn't have to tell any of them twice. It had been a long day, and it had been hours since lunch. The men quickly had a makeshift table set up, folding chairs arranged around it, and a charcoal fire started to ward off the already falling temperatures. A lantern was lit, the food brought to the table and it was time to eat.

They were in the middle of nowhere, and as comfortable as they'd been that night they'd had dinner at Joe's. Phoebe would have sworn she'd never be able to relax—let alone eat—seated across from Taylor. But they were surrounded by the night, the mountains, the sweetly fragrant scent of damp pine in the air, and the rest of the world seemed very far away. Phoebe found herself laughing at the good-natured ribbing between Zeke and Joe and fascinated by the stories Elizabeth told about her precious wolves. If her heart seemed to stop in her breast every time her eyes chanced to lock with Taylor's, the others soon distracted her with another joke or story. Glad she hadn't backed out of the trip that morning, after all, she thoroughly enjoyed herself.

 

Watching Phoebe laugh at something Zeke said, Taylor couldn't take his eyes off her. She sat comfortably relaxed in a folding camp chair, her legs stretched out in front of her, her cheeks pink from the sun she'd gotten earlier in the day during the ride up into the mountains. The rain had brought out the curl in her hair and washed the makeup from her face, but she was still beautiful. How the hell did she fascinate him so? he wondered in confusion. She wasn't his type. They didn't have a damn thing in common…except this incredible chemistry that flared to life every time their
eyes met. Touching her, kissing her, only made the need she stirred in him worse.

Irritated, he told himself he never should have come on this trip. Any way he'd looked at it, he'd known it was wrong of him. He was too attracted to Phoebe—spending a weekend with her under rugged conditions was only going to make it worse. Then there were the McBrides themselves. He liked them, dammit. That still amazed him. He hadn't planned this, didn't want it. Liking them only made it more difficult for him to carry out the revenge he'd planned. But how the hell could he
not
like them? Right from the beginning, they'd trusted him to be the man he'd said he was. Just as Phoebe had. Once, that wouldn't have bothered him. Now, however, his revenge had become a double-edged sword. Did he really want to go through with his plan to expose Gus to his legitimate children and their mother? What purpose would it serve? His own mother was dead. It wouldn't change the sadness and hardship of her life. And it wouldn't give him the father he'd never had.

“You're awfully quiet,” Joe told him with a grin. “You're not falling asleep on us, are you?”

Forcing a smile, Taylor said, “Actually, I was wondering how the hell I'm going to get out of this chair when it's time to go to bed. I feel like I'm about a hundred years old.”

“Wait till tomorrow,” Zeke teased. “You'll be lucky if you can move.”

“Don't worry,” Elizabeth said, chuckling, “we brought plenty of horse liniment. Everybody gets their own bottle.”

Phoebe rose to her feet with a grimace, her grin rueful. “I think I'm going to need two.”

“That's what happens when you spend so much time in the city,” Joe retorted, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “Here. I brought you a present.”

When he tossed her a hot-water bottle, she burst out laughing. “My hero!”

“Hey, what about mine?” Taylor protested. “I'm from the city, too!”

For an answer, Joe tossed him another hot-water bottle.

 

Taylor scowled at the luminous dial on his watch and swore softly in the darkness. Midnight. It had been two hours since they'd all turned in for the night, and he'd spent every second of that time staring at the peaked roof of his small tent. He tried to convince himself it was because he was still sore, despite the liniment and hot-water bottle, but he knew his stiff muscles had nothing to do with his insomnia. It was Phoebe, dammit! She slept less than ten yards away, and from where he lay, he swore he could hear every breath she took.

Idiot! he silently chided himself. What the hell's the matter with you? Since when did you let a woman tie you in knots? Especially one who doesn't appear to be losing any sleep over you. You don't hear her tossing and turning, do you? Forget this afternoon and what happened in that damn cave and go to sleep!

He tried, but he was fighting a losing battle. Every time he closed his eyes, she was all he could see. Her smile, her laughter when Joe had tossed her the hot-water bottle he'd brought for her, the soft, heated passion he'd seen in her eyes when he'd kissed her—and he wanted her all over again.

Swearing, he jerked down the zipper to his sleeping bag and threw it off. In the dark, he reached for his
clothes and pulled them on, wishing he'd had the sense to bring his laptop. He could have at least gone over the weekly report his secretary had e-mailed him on some of the bigger cases his partners were handling while he was gone. Instead, all he had to read was an old paperback Western he'd found in the bookcase in his room at Phoebe's grandmother's. He didn't usually have much time for fiction—especially Westerns—but anything that would take his mind off Phoebe tonight would do. Grabbing it from his overnight bag, he slipped quietly out of his tent.

The last of the rain had cleared hours ago, leaving behind a night sky full of stars and a crescent moon. Joe had banked the campfire before everyone had turned in for the night, but the coals still had a glow that would spark into flames again with nothing more than a few small twigs. He saw thankfully that the damp wood that had been neatly stacked nearby was nearly dry. Hoping it would burn easily, he started to reach for a couple of branches, only to look up sharply when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye.

In the shadows of the night, he just caught a glimpse of a woman in the clearing fifty yards away, but he knew it was
her.
Phoebe. Even in the dark, with scant moonlight to illuminate the curve of her cheek, the glow of her wavy blond hair, he knew her as well as he knew the shape of his own hand.

His common sense ordered him to turn around and go back to his tent…immediately! Everyone else was asleep—he had no business being alone with her. Not when he'd lain awake for the last two hours thinking of nothing but her.

He prided himself on doing the right thing. He was a logical man—he liked to think that the only time he'd
ever let his emotions control his life was when it had come to his father. He certainly hadn't ever let a woman overcome his common sense. But instead of doing the smart thing and walking away, he headed straight for her.

 

In the shadow of the surrounding mountains, Phoebe spread a blanket out on the ground in the middle of a clearing that was within a short walk of the camp, then settled down to stargaze. It had been a long day—she should have been exhausted. But when everyone had gone to bed and she'd crawled into her sleeping bag, her mind had refused to shut down enough for her to fall asleep. In desperation, she'd escaped outside, hoping she'd find some peace in the quiet of the night.

The open field…and a view of the stars…drew her away from camp, to a clearing nearby that was bathed in the soft glow of the moon. Spreading out her sleeping bag, she sank down onto the ground and lifted her eyes to the sky full of stars. A soft breeze caressed her face, and for the first time in what seemed like hours, she smiled. This was just what she needed.

Later, she couldn't have said when she first realized she wasn't alone. The night was as quiet as ever, the breeze that played with her hair little more than a sigh. She would have sworn nothing moved, but suddenly, she could feel the touch of eyes on her. She tried to tell herself that her imagination was playing tricks on her, but the goosebumps running up and down her arms were all too real. Had Elizabeth's wolf followed them back to camp? she wondered suddenly. Did wolves eat people? Horrified at the thought, she jumped to her feet and whirled, half expecting to find herself face to face if not with Duke, then with a bear or some other wild
animal. Instead, Taylor stood at the edge of the clearing, his silhouette just barely visible in the moonlight.

Relieved, her knees melted. “Thank God!” she said with a shaky laugh as she sank down to the sleeping bag. “I thought you were a wolf!”

Unable to take his eyes off her in the soft glow of the moonlight, Taylor said, “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Stargazing,” she said simply. “I couldn't sleep. I guess you couldn't, either. What's the matter? The ground's too hard for you?”

“Something like that,” he said dryly. “I'm not much of an outdoorsman.”

“You do look as if you'd be more comfortable in a boardroom than a tent,” she replied with a smile. “So why'd you accept Zeke's invitation to ride up here? He wouldn't have been offended if you'd turned him down.”