Rawhide and Roses (13 page)

Geez, Kim, did Thad do all this to you?

“Certainly, not,” she muttered. “No one man’s kisses ever made me feel like this before.”

Her stomach ached and she clutched at it. Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead and she tossed off the sleeping bag. “Too damn hot in here.”

After several minutes of laying there, her symptoms escalating, she decided it wasn’t Thad who had thrown her body a bit off kilter—she was actually sick.

“Damn-damn-damn,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be sick. I’ll die up here.”

Things were jumping in her stomach. What had she eaten for dinner? That’s right, the barbecued chicken. Had she poisoned the entire crew? Was it food poisoning?
Oh, God. I’ll never hear the end of it.
Thad might even accuse her of trying to kill him and file a lawsuit against her!

“Great. Just what I need.”

Her stomach rumbled and roiled, then lurched. Still hot and clammy, she kicked off her sweat pants bottoms, leaving on the large baggy shirt and her panties. She tried closing her eyes, willing her tummy to cooperate. Maybe if I lie very still, all this will go away and I’ll be better in the morning.

But it was soon apparent that wouldn’t be the case. Nausea struck her in full force. Within seconds, she was up, had flung the opening to the tent out of her way, and raced behind the tent to throw up.

On her hands and knees, she wretched until the spasms finally subsided. Not much in the way of food that came up, but the bitter taste of bile nauseated her into further heaving.

Finally, with a trembling hand, she swiped at her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt and sat back on her knees.

Her body shook. She was very cold, but needed a minute to gather her strength before heading back to her tent. And she wanted to make sure another wave of nausea wasn’t going to hit her.

Eyes closed, she raked a hand through her damp hair and waited.

Her mind barely registered the presence of someone beside her.

“Kim,” he whispered. “Here, let me help.”

Weakly, she opened her eyes and watched as Thad poured some water from a canteen onto a washcloth. Then capping and laying the canteen aside, her reached for her and washed her face with the cool water as he pushed her damp hair out of the way.

She sighed and let him.

“Better?” He peered into her eyes as he gently stroked the damp cloth over her forehead and around her hairline, then down her neck.

“I think so.”

“Can you walk back to the tent now?”

She nodded. For the moment, the waves of nausea had subsided.
  

He stood and grasped her hands, helping her to her feet. With one arm, he cradled her close as he guided her back into the tent.

She sat on the sleeping bag. He sat on his knees in front of her, taking up a huge amount of space in her tiny tent. His presence nearly sucked the very air away from her. She felt sort of lightheaded, again.

“Where are your things? I’ll find you another shirt.”

She pointed to the duffel bag.

“I’ll turn my back, you take that one off.”

Hesitantly, she did, tossing the shirt near the tent’s entrance. His back was to her as he carefully went through her things and she felt a little vulnerable, sitting there almost naked, behind him. She shook off a little chill. Finally, he tossed a T-shirt her way, still keeping his back to her.

She slipped it on. “Okay,” she said softly.

He turned around.

“Thanks. I—I don’t know what happened. I hope I didn’t poison everybody.”

A slow grin spread over his face. “You didn’t poison anyone, Kim. I suspect you’ve got altitude sickness.”

“Altitude sickness? You mean, I’m going to be sick the whole time?”

He shook his head. “Not likely. I’d say you’ll acclimate soon enough. Have you had trouble sleeping?”

She nodded.
But I hadn’t attributed it to altitude.
     

“Felt a little dizzy? Short of breath?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”
But I thought you were doing that to me.

He paused and studied her. “I think you’ll probably feel better tomorrow. Drink plenty of water and eat right. Here, keep my canteen.” He laid it beside the sleeping bag. “And if you can get to sleep, sleep as long as you can. Don’t worry about the rest of us, we’ll manage.”

She gave him a slow nod. Watching him sitting across from her, gave her a sinking, yet jittery feeling in her stomach. It wasn’t nausea. It was something else. The narrow grin he’d given her earlier was gone. As though he’d just realized where the two of them were—in her tent, alone.
         

He turned toward the tent opening and snatched up her shirt. “You try and get some sleep,” he said softly.

“I will.”

He reached for the tent flap.

“Thad...? Um. Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

She could barely see his eyes in the tent’s darkness, but sensed his uncertainty at her question.

“Kim... I—”

“Never mind,” she interrupted. “Thanks anyway.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

He gave her one last glance, then left her alone.

****

When she finally emerged from her tent the next morning, the first thing she noticed was that it was extremely light outside.

The second thing that struck her was that there wasn’t much commotion going on inside the camp. In fact, the place looked pretty darned deserted. The smell of fried bacon and strong coffee hit her as she neared the dining fly. For a moment, she thought someone had cooked breakfast. But when she saw no food waiting and glanced above her to notice that the sun was nearly overhead, indicating that noon was approaching, she deduced that they had indeed managed on their own.

Well, what a concept!

Picking up the skillet, she placed it back on the stove, stoked the dying fire and decided to add another piece of wood. Then she rummaged through the meat box to see if there happened to be any bacon left. Everyone else seemed to have disappeared, so she assumed they’d already eaten. Surely they wouldn’t begrudge herself a bite to eat, would they? Even if it was almost lunch time?

Slowly, she glanced about. Where in the heck was everyone?

She found half a pound of bacon. The pan was now sizzling on the stove with fat left from someone else’s breakfast, so she shrugged her shoulders and figured the heat would kill about anything and laid another two slices in the pan, watching the fat pop and crackle against the black iron skillet.

“Enough there for two?”

Kim jumped back and looked into Thad’s face. Hers grew hot. Quickly, she glanced back down at the package of bacon in her hands.

“I think so.”

“Good.” He took the package from her and laid it on a table beside the stove. Pulling slices of bacon from each other, he carefully laying them in the fat. Surprised, Kim stepped back and watched. After a moment, he glanced up. “I’ll take care of the bacon and eggs if you’ll get the coffee and biscuits.”

Thad turned back to his work and Kim, a bit dumbfounded, stood and watched. After a second, he glanced up in question and Kim nodded and headed for the coffee pot.

She made short work of the caffeine, setting the percolator on a free burner on the stove. Two days ago she wouldn’t have guessed Thad even knew what a skillet looked like.

After rummaging around in the cold box of food again, Kim came up with a can of refrigerator biscuits. She popped the cardboard container and placed each biscuit in the bottom of a round pan, all the while stealing wondering glances at Thad as he turned the bacon and cracked eggs.

She picked up the pan of biscuits.

“If you’ll scoot over, I’ll slide these in the oven.”

He looked at her then, stopping any motion he was making with his hands, and slowly slid to his right. His gaze never left her eyes.

Keeping the connection, Kim stepped beside him. She could feel his hard body just centimeters from her back. Static electricity jumped between them. For a moment, he didn’t move. She didn’t either. With jerky movements and shaking hands, Kim opened the oven door, slid the biscuits inside, quickly closed it again, then awkwardly stepped back. Rubbing her hands along her thighs, she glanced his way, then averted her gaze and stepped away. “Those shouldn’t take long, the oven’s pretty hot,” she threw over her shoulder.

Thad who hadn’t moved from his spot. The air between them seemed to crackled. “Bacon’s done,” he said. “Eggs will be ready in a minute.” Then he turned back to his task, whisked the eggs, and after draining all but a bit of fat from the pan, dumped the egg mixture into the skillet with a sizzle.

Kim swallowed hard and sat at the camp table, her back to the table’s edge, facing Thad. This was awkward. Hours before, he had run his fingers through her hair and raked his lips across hers, fiercely as well as gently, sending her into a spiral of emotion. Then he’d walked away, disappeared into the night, and told her it could never happen again.

And then deep into the night, he’d come to her. He’d cooled her feverish face and had taken care of her when she needed help. So many confusing thoughts and conflicting emotions bounced around inside her.

All night she’d dreamed of laying in his arms.

All night long she’d told herself it was impossible. Nothing good could ever come of a brief fling in this mountain paradise. In a few days, she was going home.

To her potential house on the east side and her secure, stable future.

To her future husband, whom she’d just not met yet.

To her future children, whom she’d not yet conceived.

To her Junior League meetings

To her mom and dad.

Her job.

Suddenly, all that seemed so distant, so far removed from what she was experiencing at the moment. So everyday typical that what was happening to her now seemed exciting, atypical. She hadn’t realized how mundane her life back in Kentucky had become.

But now, here he was, this gorgeous cowboy, doing the thing that she was supposed to be doing. Cooking breakfast. Looking sexy as hell. And melting her insides like a Popsicle on a hot August afternoon.

Quickly, she glanced around her again.

“Where is everyone?”

Thad lifted the scrambled eggs out of the pan and scooped generous portions onto two plates. He set the skillet aside, and without a glance in her direction, opened the oven door. “Biscuits are done.” He ignored her question.

Kim rose and went to the stove. With a potholder she removed the biscuits from the oven and set them on the stove top. With a fork, she placed two biscuits on each plate. As her hand reached to lift the plates, so did Thad’s. Fingers touched. Hips bumped. The tension between them sizzled like cracklings in hot fat.

Kim gulped and jerked back her hands. Thad lifted the plates from the table.

“I’ll get these, you get the coffee.”

Kim did just that. After pouring two mugs full of the steaming, black liquid, she followed Thad to the table and sat across from him, placing one of the cups of coffee by his plate. Thad dug in.

Suddenly, Kim was no longer hungry. She stared at the plate of eggs and bacon and biscuits. Her stomach did flip-flops.

“What’s the matter. Still afraid of a few fat grams?”

Kim looked into his face. “Oh, no.” She shook her head violently.

“Need something else, then? Ketchup for your eggs? Jam for your biscuits?”

Kim shook her head again. “No, this looks great.”

“Cream for your coffee?” A broad smile spread across Thad’s face and Kim felt her insides mesh together.

“No.” She rubbed a hand across her stomach.

Thad stopped chewing and paused for a moment, staring at her. “Are you still sick?”

She shook her head.

Because you make me nervous, Thaddeus Winchester.
Because when I look at you I get butterflies in my belly and tingles all up and down my spine.
No, Kim told herself. She wasn’t going to make this worse than it was already.

Grasping her fork, she forced a smile. “I was just...just reflecting on how peaceful the morning is before I settle down to eat breakfast.” She glanced outside the dining fly, realizing how hokey that sounded. She turned back to Thad, puzzled. “I have to ask you a question.”

Thad took a bite of biscuit and chewed slowly. “Yes...?”

“Why the abrupt change of attitude. You realize you’re making me crazy here? One minute you’re gruff as an old bear, the next you’re fixing me breakfast. I don’t understand.”

Thad studied her. “Crazy? Hmm, I can identify. Let’s just say...well, I’ve come to a decision.”

“And what decision is that.”

“That... That this old bear needed to extend a paw.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded, pushed his plate back, and crossed his arms in front of him on the table. “Yeah. Me, either.”

She studied him a moment longer, then glanced away. The camp was so damn still. Everything had changed. Thad. Everything. Eerie. She turned back.