Rawhide and Roses (25 page)

Kim moved toward the horse. Since the storm had left, the evening sky was free of clouds, but the air had turned decidedly cooler. Her clothing was still a bit damp and she wished for a heavier jacket, or a sweatshirt. If all else failed, she’d slip back into the rain slicker, knowing it would protect her somewhat from the chill.

The day’s end held her spellbound. If it weren’t for the fact that she knew she had to make camp somewhere soon, she would have liked to have parked herself on a rock amidst the waterfalls and simply watched the sun slip over the horizon. But she couldn’t. She had to find shelter somewhere. She’d waited too long.

Slipping her foot again into the stirrup, she raised her body into the saddle and turned the horse away from the water’s edge. After urging her up the small rise she’d moments earlier descended, she glanced at a pile of rocks to her right. Funny, she hadn’t noticed them before. As she moved the horse closer, an odd sensation crept up her neck and tripped down her spine. The rocks were piled high on top of one another like a miniature henge.

A rock cairn! A Colorado Trial marker?

Excited, she let her gaze mark a path leading into the forest and her heart picked up its cadence. She’d found the Colorado Trail! And it was definitely heading west. Hopefully, she was only hours from Elk Park.

But there was no way she could travel much further tonight. Her immediate concern was shelter. And the only way she could do that, was to follow the trail into the forest and hope that she would find someplace, anyplace, where she felt safe enough to lay her bedroll for the night.

And as she headed down the trail, she realized that she was not afraid. She was in control. And that she was actually enjoying the beautiful, peaceful wilderness that surrounded her. Perhaps she should be afraid, but after her initial shock wore off about what she’d so impulsively done, and after crossing the river, the fear had left her. Replacing the fear was a sort of self-reliance that she’d never in her life felt before.

And it felt wonderful.

The only thing that marred her otherwise pleasant thoughts, was the way she and Thad had parted. She would have like for it to have been different, but she guessed that wasn’t to be. If he could only think of her as someone to share his life with, not protect from life, then maybe they could have worked things out. But as long as he viewed her as someone he had to coddle, then it would never work.
     

She had to make it to the train. And she had to do it by herself. That just might be the only redeeming feature of this entire trip. And it would be the thing she’d take home with her and remember for as long as she lived. That and her memories of loving Thad, however bittersweet.

Heck, she might even tell her grandchildren about it someday. Well, most of it, anyway. If she ever had grandchildren.

Within thirty minutes the forest was too dark for her to continue. The narrow path wound its way through a host of trees and she’d searched for even a small clearing where she and the horse could rest but it seemed there wasn’t anything.

She rode on. The horse gingerly picked her way through the dark. Their pace was slow and Kim knew that before long, one way or another, they were going to have to stop. Any further along the trail and she wouldn’t be able to see five feet in front of her, and she couldn’t risk the horse slipping and tumbling off a trail that led to nowhere.

Finally, a break in the trees happened and she tiredly urged the horse to the right. Stepping from beneath the umbrella of forest to beneath the night sky, she noticed that a few stars sprinkled overhead, along with a full moon, leant a small shaft of light over the clearing. Unsure exactly what she should do, she dismounted and by moonlight, untied the bedroll from behind the saddle. She lead the horse to the edge of the clearing and tied the reins to a low hanging branch.

A hoot went up from the tree above her and Kim froze. Standing still for another minute, she waited, but the sound didn’t come again, and Kim decided that the least of her worries was an old hoot owl asserting authority over his territory. In the back of her mind, though, there were other concerns she harbored about sleeping out under the stars. Small worries like snakes and rodents, and bigger ones like elk and bear. She hoped that by staying close to the horse, the mare would warn her of any approaching danger. She just hoped she wouldn’t trample her in her sleep in an attempt to flee that danger.

Nevertheless, she had to get through the night.

Kim removed the large rain slicker from the saddlebag and laid it over the ground first, it’s outer repellent side next to the ground. She hoped the coat would help keep ground moisture from seeping into her sleeping bag, and ward off a chill. Then, she laid the bedroll on top of that. Quickly, she searched the saddlebags for anything else that might be useful, but only came up with a pair of binoculars, which she thought might come in handy tomorrow, and a half-eaten granola bar left from her lunch. She’d eaten the sandwich and apple and the other half of the granola bar throughout the earlier part of the day. She contemplated saving the bar for breakfast, but reasoned that her body needed fuel to keep her warm throughout the night, and that perhaps tomorrow, she’d arrive at the Elk Park spur early enough in the day so she could buy something for lunch there.

She could only hope.

The mare nickered and tossed back her head. Kim froze beside the mare, straining her ears. Had the horse heard something? Sensed, smelled something?
         

Silence fell about her makeshift camp. Night birds twittered above her in the trees and in the distance, she heard a faint howl. Unmoving, she allowed only her gaze to shift across the small clearing, trying to spy any movement that seemed out of the ordinary. Her ears were alert to any sound that might warrant danger. If need be she was ready to snatch up her bedroll and slicker, and mount the horse again quickly.

But after a moment the horse settled back into grazing mode and Kim relaxed. With granola bar in hand, she settled deep into the sleeping bag, zipping the thing up nearly to her ears.

With a sigh she felt the tension slide off her shoulders, and her eyelids grow heavy. As nervous as she was about sleeping out in the open, she was just as tired. And when the moment came that she thought she might actually drift off to sleep, the mare lifted her head again and sounded a warning nicker.

And another one answered her from down the trail.

Another horse! People?

But the moment’s elation was stifled in the next second when panic set like a rock in her abdomen. What kind of person might be traveling on a horse out in this wilderness at this time of night? Would it be someone she could trust? Heaven knows she was vulnerable to just about anything. She was totally at the mercy of whomever was out there.

Her horse neighed again and the other echoed. Louder. Closer.

Kim bolted upright in the sleeping bag and pulled it close under her chin. Suddenly, she was shivering. Another neigh. Another echo.

“Kim!”

His voice stunned her. Thad? For a small eternity she contemplated his finding her and all that it meant. He was ruining everything. She had to do this alone. Should she answer him? Or should she just let him go on and pass her by.

Again, the horses called to each other.

“Kim!” His voice sounded frantic. “Are you out there?”

She hesitated only a second more.

“Over here, Thad,” she returned tentatively. There was no use letting him wander around in the dark, endangering both himself and his horse.

They broke the clearing and Kim could see the buckskin in the moonlight. She stood up. “Where are you?” he called out.

Relenting, she answered. “Over here.”
         
 
                      

Within seconds, he and his horse were standing directly in front of her. Quickly, he dismounted.

She didn’t give him a chance to speak first. “What are you doing here,” she hissed, still harboring a bit of resentment.

“Trying to save your hide. That was an asinine stunt you pulled.”

“It wasn’t a stunt, Thad. And I’m doing quite fine, so you can just go right on back from where you came.”

“Oh, no you don’t. I’m staying.”

Kim smiled in disgust. “Here we are again. You’re making demands and expecting I obey. Haven’t you got it yet, Thad? I’m a woman of my own means. I make my own decisions.”

It was dark, but she could still make out the steel hardness of his eyes. “And I can make it to Elk Park just fine. It shouldn’t be much further.”

“You’re right. It’s not far. And I’ll see you there safely tomorrow if that’s what you want, but tonight, I’m staying here with you.” He shifted toward the horse. “I’ve got a tent and I don’t mind sharing.”

I’ll bet you don’t.

Kim didn’t want to share. “I’m fine where I am. This is a free country, set your damned tent up anywhere you please.”

“And you’re going to share it with me.”

“I like sleeping under the stars.”

“Since when?”

She contemplated that question. “Since...” Embarrassed and angry that she’d brought up the thought of them sleeping together under the stars, she turned and plopped back down into her sleeping bag on the ground.

She felt Thad’s gaze upon her. Lying there, she realized her heart was beating way too rapidly and that her breathing was coming in short, shallow gulps. Damn him! He was ruining everything!

Thad whirled from Kim. Alternately relieved at finding her, and angry at her refusal of his help, he hastily untied the bedroll from his horse’s rump and tossed it to the ground. Within a matter of a few minutes, he’d tied his buckskin close to Kim’s mare and had pitched the tent and rolled his own bedroll out inside. Throwing one last glance toward her, he decided to give it one more shot.

“Kim, the tent will keep off the chill and dew. You’ll be sick before you know it, lying on the ground. I don’t think you can afford being sick for Jillie and Mack’s wedding, do you?”

He stared at her still form. When she didn’t answer, he lifted the flap of the tent. Before entering, he tossed out one more thought. “I promise, I’ll not bother you. I’ll not touch you or talk to you, but please, get in the tent.”

She still didn’t answer. Reluctantly, Thad entered and left the flap half open. After kicking off his boots, he slid into his own sleeping bag and faced the wall of the tent. But he knew there would be no sleeping for him tonight. He couldn’t possibly sleep with her out there like that.

He turned to call out one more time. “Kim, please...”

“All right, Thad. You win. This time.” She flipped back the tent flap and tossed her bag inside. Turning, she zipped the opening closed and proceeded to arrange her sleeping bag against the opposite wall. He watched her slip inside, her back turned to him. After a moment, he listened as she sighed heavily. He let his own tired body fall into the bag’s warmth, but his eyes never left her back.

“I’m a horse’s ass, you know,” he told her a bit later, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m the reason you took off like that. I feel responsible. That’s why I came.”

Her back didn’t move and he had no way of knowing if she was awake, or asleep. If she heard anything he said.

“Actually, you were right. I am afraid of what’s going to happen at Elk Park. If I pushed you away before then, then I wouldn’t have to face the inevitable. I was stupid. I didn’t mean all those things I said to you, Kim.”

He paused and waited for any sign that she heard him, but there was none.

“If I said I was wrong, and that I was sorry, would it make any difference? Would there be any way, any chance…” Thad huffed out a breath and flipped onto his back. Hell, this was useless. He’d blown it, all of it. There was no way she would consider coming back to him, and he knew it. His lifestyle was all wrong. He was too rough around the edges for a woman like her. And she had her life all laid out before her—back in Kentucky. It was unfair of him even to ask. So he wouldn’t.

Turning onto his side, he clamped his eyes tight against any thought, or scene, or memory that dared cross his vision. It was going to be a restless night.

When Kim heard Thad’s breathing finally slow, she quietly turned over to look at him. He’d turned his back to her as well. She couldn’t blame him. He’d poured his heart out in so many words, and she’d simply lain there, and didn’t respond. Ignoring him.

He had ruined everything. She had so wanted to do this by herself. To make it to Elk Park so she could, at the very least, feel like she’d accomplished more on this trip than becoming Thad Winchester’s lover. So she could then feel free to love him, knowing that she could make it in his world. Then he wouldn’t have to pamper and coddle her for the rest of their days.

Because she couldn’t stand for him to think of her lacking. For him, she wanted to be a strong woman. One who he wouldn’t have to make alternative arrangements for when it came to crossing the swollen rivers of life.

She had ignored him. Let him believe she didn’t care.

There were two things she couldn’t ignore at the moment, and those were the bitter tears flowing down her cheeks, and the constricting pain she felt in her heart. But when it came right down to it, if he’d said the words she really wanted to hear, that he loved her and he wanted her to stay forever, that they could work things out, how would she have reacted then?