ANOTHER SUNNY DAY (15 page)

Tyler joined her as soon as he saw her leave the trailer. His cheeks were flushed a bright red, and his eyes still sparkled mischievously. Sarah noticed the scattered remains of several snowballs still clinging to the sheepskin collar and bu
ckskin hide of his heavy coat.

"You've obviously been busy while I was dressing," she commen
ted with a twinkle. "Who won?"

"I did, of course. I'm the boss," he said, laughing. "My men treat me with the greatest respect and —" Abruptly his boast was cut off as a snowball hit him solidly on the back of his head, knocking his hat off and sending a chilling trickle of
frozen flakes down his collar.

"I can certainly see that they do." Her eyebrows arched in amusement as she nodded wryly, which earned her a reproachful glare from Tyler as he bent to pick up his hat. It was difficult, however, to take this man's gruff look seriously while his rumpled black hair dripped with melting snow and the corners of hi
s mouth twitched suspiciously.

"If there weren't so many camera crews or curious eyes around right now, I'd show you that our Texas snow is just as good as any snow for having a snowball fight," he th
reatened with a playful snarl.

"Hah! I was the fastest, most accurate snowball thrower in Fayette County. I'm afraid you wouldn't get any respect from me eit
her." She flashed back a grin.

"I knew you wouldn't respect me if I let you have your way with me last night." He lowered his voice so only she could hear his pretended remorse. "Men
need respect, too, you know."

"That's the price you have to pay for your actions," she retaliated in the same bantering tone. "You knew I couldn't resist gorgeous men dressed only in blue bath
towels. So now your reputation is hopelessly ruined."

"Since it's already ruined, why don't we go back to the trailer and catch up with the others tomorrow?" he
joked with a suggestive wink.

She responded with a burst of laughter and a decidedly disrespectful "You're hopeless." A news team was approaching, and they had to return to their roles, but during the interview, whenever their eyes met, a silent commu
nication flashed between them.

As much as she wanted to ride with Tyler today, Sarah felt it would not be in character for Sunny to risk catching a cold and damaging her voice. So, reluctantly she rode in the cab of the truck with Jed. It wasn't that she didn't like Jed, although she suspected that he wasn't overly fond of her; it was just that she hated to waste even one precious hour that could have been spent with Tyler. She watched without enthusias
m as the trail riders set out.

The group was somewhat smaller today because the younger children and their mothers, along with a few of the less dedicated, had given up and gone home early. But later today the Salt Grass Trail Ride would merge with the Valley Lodge Trail Ride, which would increase the total number of riders by several hundred. It would also mean there would be a whole new group of fans to meet and autographs to sign tonight, but this was a chore that Sarah was becoming accustomed to. She still couldn't understand how Sunny could put up with being constantly in the public eye the way she was. The truth was that Sunny not only put up with it but loved almost every minute of it. Sarah, on the other hand, couldn't wait for the return
of her anonymity and privacy.

Today Sarah was going to witness the behind-the-scenes operations that kept the trail ride going. After the riders left each morning, the people left behind had to break camp, hook up the trailers, and clean up the mess so that the Texas landscape didn't suffer from having had so large a group spend the night there. The caravan then moved to the preplanned meeting point for lunch, where they stopped and prepared the noon meal so it would be ready when the riders arrived. This procedure was repeated as the trucks, campers, horse trailers, and vans again passed the long line of riders before stopping and setting up camp at that night's scheduled st
opping place.

The riders, after spending many long hours in the saddle, were grateful they didn't have the dismal chore of setting up camp to look forward to at the end of each day. But still, most of them never realized how much work and planning it took to
to coordinate such a massive effort.

Sarah gained new respect for the people who had come along on the trail ride not to party and have a good time but to spend long hours laboring to make sure all the others enjoyed themselves. But she could not resist a look of longing as they passed the riders, making their way carefully along the sometimes icy highway. Today they were traveling down Interstate 10 with a police escort blocking off traffic on one of the three eastbound lanes so the trail ride could continue in safety. A horse and rider could travel at a steady pace of from five to seven miles an hour. But with this many people, horses, mules, and wagons involved, the trail riders barely covered three miles an hour. And today, because of the unusually slippery conditions, i
t would take them even longer.

Sarah watched without interest as she and Jed passed mile after mile of flat, empty fields with their glistening white winter coat. Small clusters of businesses hugged the highway at distant intervals, but most of them
appeared to be deserted today.

At the lunch break Tyler explained that the Gulf Coast area of Texas became almost completely paralyzed during the few days of ice and snow that they might experience every couple of years. No one was equipped to deal with this type of weather, and except for the transplanted northerners no few knew how to
drive under these conditions.

"It's too bad you won't still be here in the springtime. You can't imagine how beautiful this part of Texas is when the wild flowers are in bloom. From here to the hill country there will be thousands of acres covered with Indian paintbrushes, paintbrushes, bluebonnets, delicate yellow buttercups, and small golden daisy
-like flowers," Tyler said between bites of his hamburger. "You should make it a point to swing back through here in April or early May if you can work it into your schedule."

He was obviously proud of his home state, but his words only served as an unpleasant reminder to Sarah that she wouldn't be here in April to see Texas in bloom, or more importantly, to see Tyler. And he hadn't even hinted that he wanted her to stay or that he wanted to be the one to show her the springtime display. Sarah spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to hide the ache that gripped her heart. It proved to be the greatest challenge she had bee
n faced with so far this week.

"Do you work at Tyler's ranch, Jed?" she asked her silent companion as they traveled from the spot where they'd stopped for lunch to that night's c
ampground.

"No, I'm just
an old friend of the family."

"Oh, so you
're not their cook back home?"

Her question brought the first genuine grin to his face that she had seen all week. "No, I only cook when Tyler drags me along on these trail rides. I learned how to cook for large groups in the army and never could scale it down after I got home. So this is my once-a-year chance to show m
y stuff and keep in practice."

"You're very good. Maybe you should open a restaurant. I'll bet it would do well."
she suggested.

"I stay pretty busy at my job." He chuckled before adding, "I suppose Tyler hasn't told you that I
'm the president of his bank."

"You're joking." Sarah tried to disguise her shock. "Why would a bank president spend a week cooking and
taking care of all these men?"

"Because I enjoy it," he stated simply. "As you can imagine, it's quite a change from what I do the rest of the year. I'm too old and out of shape to ride on a horse, but I love getting outdoors and being just one of the g
uys."

"Well, I wish Tyler had told me so I wouldn't have asked you all those stupid questions." Her flushed cheeks showed her embarrassment. She had just assumed this roughly dressed, soft-spoken man was one of Tyler's ranch hands. It was difficult to envision him dressed in a three-piece suit and sitting behind a big wooden desk instead of standing beside the huge cast-iron pot hanging over an open fire, st
irring a batch of spicy chili.

"Tyler probably never gives my title a second thought. He's not one to attach any importance to things like that. Either he likes you for who you really are or he doesn't. He can spot a phony a mile away; a big fancy title doesn'
t make any difference to him."

Luckily they were turning into Bear Creek Park, because Sarah had suddenly become speechless. She had taken Jed's words very personally. Maybe she was getting paranoid or experiencing a fresh wave of guilt, but it seemed that every finger was pointed at her and every whisper was about her. But it was impossible for anyone to know her secret. She had not slipped or let her guard down except in front of Tyler, and she
could trust him, couldn't she?

To keep her mind off these troublesome thoughts, she puttered around camp, watching the activity and pitching in to help Jed prepare supper. She peeled mounds of potatoes, which he sliced into long, thick
french fries. Several blackened cast-iron skillets sizzled and spit as Jed dropped the breaded pieces of chicken into the hot oil. Sarah kept glancing at her watch wondering how much longer it would be before the riders made it into camp.

It was almost dark before she saw the flashing lights of the patrol car that was escorting the riders and heard the familiar sounds of harnesses jingling and hooves clattering on the pavement. As if he, too, had resented the separation. Tyler was one of the first riders t
o enter the circle of campers.

With a forced casualness Sarah leaned back against the camper as he dismounted from his horse. What she wanted to do was to rush over to him, throw her arms around his neck, and kiss the w
armth back into his cold face.

"Hi,
darlin'." His smooth baritone wrapped around her like a velvet blanket, sending delightful shivers skittering through her. "Did you miss me?"

"What an ego!" she snorted, refusing to let him know just how much she had missed him today. "Have you ever consider
ed a career in show business?"

"I'd hate it," he retorted sharply, suddenly serious. Then at the hurt expression that stole away her smile, he added more gently, "Why don't you keep me company while I feed the horses?
We've got a whole new group of people tonight, and as they discover you, we probably won't have a minute alone."

She brightened at this indication that he enjoyed being with her, and she eagerly went with him to the horse trailer where he kept the horses' food and supplies.
Zena nickered a greeting, glad to see them after a lonely day spent in the horse trailer. Tyler backed her out and tied her next to his gelding. Sarah sat on a flat-topped stump and watched him as he unsaddled his horse and groomed both horses. It was such a simple pleasure to be able to look at him, admiring his lean, muscular build. Even though it was partially hidden by his bulky coat, it held no mysteries for her after last night, and a picture of his magnificent nude body flashed through her mind.

"I'll up my ante to five dollars for your thoughts," he teased with a knowing grin. "They look like they're worth at least that much if the color of your cheeks is any
indication."

His observation caused her to blush even redder, but she managed to mumble, "I
was just admiring your coat."

"Sure you were," he agreed dryly. "And I've been meaning to tell you how much I've been thinking about yours. Maybe later we can compare buttons . . . or something," he finished with a suggestive wink that le
ft no doubt as to his meaning.

"I should be able to ride again tomorrow. The weather report said it would warm up into the fifties." She looked around her regretfully as she said, "But it looks like all of your snow will soon be gone." The afternoon sun had taken its toll, leaving drifts only in shadowed or sheltered areas. By the following day, soon after daylight, the last
flake would have melted away.

"Nothing lasts forever, does it?" He glanced pensively over his gelding's broad back, memorizing each perfect
feature of her beautiful face.

"No, I guess it doesn't," she agreed, equally wistful. It was foolish of her to even dream of a happily-ever-after ending to this relationship. The best she could hope for was a "Thanks for the memory." Restlessly she jumped to her feet and said, "Supper has been ready for half an hour. Jed will skin us alive
if we don't hurry up and eat."

Tyler fastened the hobbles on the horses' front legs. "I sure don't want to get Jed mad at me. One of the unbreakable rules of the trail is not, under any circumstances, to upset the cook. I can fini
sh settling the horses later."

As they walked back to camp Sarah said, "Why didn't you tell me who Jed was? I had a bad case of foot-in-mouth disease today when I asked him if he was your full-time cook. And then I even told him he should open a restaurant." she related
, still upset by her faux pas.

"I'll bet he got a kick out of that." Tyler hooted, unsympathetic to her discomfort. "You probably wouldn't know it by looking at him, but he's one of the most intelligent men I've ever met. He started out as a teller and now has a controlling interest in the bank. But it's his cooking that he's most sensitive about. You could compliment him on anything else and not get much of a response, but if you told him you liked his cooking, you've pro
bably made a friend for life."