Rocky Mountain Freedom (3 page)

Things hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d traveled this path back in December, other than the obvious passing of the seasons. The snow was gone, but the lay of the land stayed familiar. There was still the same old outbuilding at the far edge of the field, its boards weathered to stately grey. The fence posts skipping past in her peripheral vision with a rhythmic consistency ran straight and true, the occasional old boot or baseball cap tacked to the top.

Inside, she’d turned a few corners, and the sight of buds on the willows and tiny blades of grass fighting to emerge from the broken soil in the field—all of it made her optimistic that she was about to find a new lease on life as well.

Fingers crossed Travis Coleman wouldn’t mind providing a place she could temporarily plant herself as she set down some roots. Real roots.

The radio station changed tunes, and she hummed along, tapping her fingers with the beat, smiling as it turned out to be yet another song about drinking.

Country music. Predictable, but soothingly familiar. Like coming home.

She’d just pulled into the yard area outside the singlewide mobile home when the dust rising from the east warned her timing had been perfect. The scent of spring hit her as she stepped outside, closing the door and leaning on the worn blue metal of her van.

His black cowboy hat appeared first, the hum of the ATV’s well-tuned engine rising over the ridge and carrying his jean-clad form closer.

If she’d had any worries about her reception, he put them aside quickly as his smile broke out, a flash of white against his tan. Travis parked at the edge of the driveway, threw a leg over the seat and strode toward her, all long-limbed and smooth. His worn Wranglers fit snug in the right places, the edges of his jacket flaring open to reveal a dark T-shirt stained with dirt from his labours.

The breeze picked up and whipped her hair across her face. Ashley pushed the long blonde strands out of her way, smiling as she openly admired him. “Long time no see.”

He stopped less than a foot away, lifting his fingers to caress her cheek. “Not true. I saw you last night in my dreams.”

The deep tone of his voice sent a shiver over her, and desire struck hard as it always did around him. He slid his hand around the back of her neck and eased in until their bodies brushed. With one small adjustment, he tilted her face upward, control in his grasp. Control that made her want to squirm closer and rub like a needy puppy.

Which was why she had to haul in a little control of her own. Take charge of a few things, the most important ones at least, before this situation went completely off track.

His gaze was locked on her lips. She licked them, pleased when the pupils in his dark grey eyes reacted, widening with lust. “You planning on kissing me, or eating me up for dinner?”

“How about both?”

She shook her head—well, as far as his firm grip would allow her to. “I’m not falling back into your bed, Travis. Not first thing.”

“Course not.” He grinned. “I figure it should take at least a month before we have to resort to an actual bed.”

Ashley should have seen that one coming. “You’re a filthy bastard at times, ain’t cha?”

“Just the way you like me…”

He moved slowly enough she could have pulled away. He’d never have tried it if she hadn’t wanted it in the first place—he wasn’t that type.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but hell if she’d deny herself this much of a homecoming.

As he lowered his head, she met him halfway. Firm lips pressed to hers, the soft strands of his hair under her fingers. He let go of her neck and cupped her ass, hoisting her skyward, and she wrapped herself around him tight, compressed against nearly two hundred pounds of muscle and barely restrained passion.

His tongue slipped past her teeth, teasing the roof of her mouth, tangling briefly with hers before he drew back far enough to plant kisses down the side of her neck. His fingers clenched her ass, rubbing her slowly over the growing ridge at his groin. Tendrils of pleasure radiated from her core, and for a moment she was so damned tempted to make this a real welcome back—complete with sticky, exhausting sex.

The kind of intimacy she knew Travis was more than proficient at providing.

He was the one who pulled away first, breathing unevenly but smiling as he lowered her reluctant limbs to the ground, supporting her until she found her balance.

Ashley swallowed hard, her lips tingling, blood pounding in her ears. “You still know how to get my motor running, Travis Coleman.”

“Good to know. Come on in, and tell me what you’re doing back in Rocky.”

She followed him up the couple of steps into the trailer. “You knew I’d be back sometime.”

He shrugged, hanging his jacket on a wall hook then holding out his hand to take her coat. “I wasn’t hundred percent sure. Figured if you decided it would be spur of the moment. Kind of how you left…”

Travis winked to soften his words, but they were true. She had taken off rather sudden-like.

She didn’t get time to go into the whys and wherefores before he ducked away into the back of the trailer, headed for the bathroom.

Ashley moved into the kitchen instead, more familiar touches greeting her. She’d sat in that chair and eaten breakfast. She had washed dishes at that sink. Been bent over that table and fucked until she could barely walk the next day.

Memories that shouldn’t be returning sprang up from all corners of the room, and she wanted to smack herself silly.

It wasn’t wrong to want to go back to jumping his bones, but damn if she’d get distracted from the real goal. It was past time for merely playing games. Past time for taking nothing but temporary pleasures.

She wandered the small trailer space as she pondered. She wanted it all, a present
and
a future, and that meant being smarter than she’d been the last time she and Travis had gotten involved.

“You want to stay for supper?” Travis asked as he stepped back into the room.

His hair was wet and freshly combed. He’d washed up quickly and pulled on clean jeans and a dark T-shirt that boldly stated
Asshole
.

She laughed. “You wore that on purpose.”

“Best birthday present I ever got.” Travis grinned. “Truth in advertising.”

Ashley leaned on the doorframe to the living room. “You look good, Travis. Your family doing okay?”

“Mostly.” He opened the fridge. “You never answered about supper. Am I feeding you tonight?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to trouble you. Just need a few minutes to ask you a favour.”

“No trouble. Easier to talk when we’re not both fighting our stomachs.”

He handed her a head of lettuce, and it was like stepping back in time. She put together a salad while he pulled out burgers and tossed them on the grill outside. By the time the food was on the table, she was glad he’d forced the issue. She didn’t have much left to eat in her van.

She took a big bite of the thick hamburger patty and moaned in appreciation. “So good. Thank you for being bossy and making me stay.”

“I’m good at bossy, if you remember.” His smile teased her again. “And now that we don’t have anything else to distract us, you can stop dancing from my questions. Are you in town for long?”

She nodded slowly. “I’m considering buying a place.”

“In Rocky? Really?”

“It’s got everything I need.” It was time to face the bull head-on. “Only I need your help to make it happen.”

“How?” He kept eating but paid full attention to her.

The explaining first, favour second. “When I left back in December, I headed south. Stopped in and visited my mom for a while. She’s doing really well—got a place in California in this amazing artists’ community. I did a little work for them and ended up with some commissions.”

He frowned. “For your art? I thought you were doing contract stuff with that advertising agency out of Calgary.”

Ha. “The jerk took some of my work and used it in another project without giving me credit. I found out before I left. No way was I going to keep on with him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Can’t you get your rights back or something?”

She sighed. “It’s more work than it’s worth. Some of the things were scribbles I’d done a couple years ago when I started with him—anyway, it doesn’t matter. I moved on, and now I have a chance to make some serious money without having to work for another person.”

A smile bloomed, curling his lips until he was full-out grinning. “Being your own boss. Always the best way to make a living.”

“You know it.”

Travis nodded slowly. “It’s a good strategy. What do I have to do with it?”

Now came the favour. “I’d like to shadow you on the job for a while. I need pictures to use as a base for the artwork. I figure if I spend time in the field off and on for a couple months I can get most of what I need, then fill in the gaps with specific studio shots.”

“You want me to model for you?” His laughter filled the room. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Ashley looked him over, top to bottom, letting her appreciation show. “Although you’re a little too clean at the moment.”

“You need a
dirty
cowboy? Hmmm, this is sounding kinkier by the minute.”

She leaned forward, ideas and images filling her head. Somehow she needed to explain this so he could catch the vision.

“I’m not trying for a studio-perfect cowboy, Travis. Not what people on the street imagine, but a real working rancher. I want to take pictures of the most boring tasks and make them come alive. Maybe try one of those twenty-four-hour things, typical activities at all times of day and night. The hushed moments when the world is waking up, and the stinking hot, sweaty times when you’re up to your ears in shit. That’s the story I think will work with this—hard and hungry and so damn down to earth you can smell the country when you see the pictures.” She pulled back, her heart pounding. Travis had this knowing smile, and she bumped him with her foot. “What? Why you staring at me like that?”

“Because you’re so full of enthusiasm it’s making me twitch. You doing photos only for this? Or are you planning to turn them into digital paintings?”

“Mixed media.” It warmed her that he remembered what she’d been playing with before she left. “Might use some photos, some paintings—digital and probably watercolour. I was playing around at my mom’s and found out I have a fair hand with clay as well.”

“The acorn didn’t fall far from the tree, I guess.”

Which was lovely when it came to art, but not when it came to other things. She hoped she’d be able to do a few things differently than her parents. “Here’s what I’d do—tag along with you for a few days, see what kind of photo opportunities arise. Then I’ll know better if I should join you at certain times, or if I should buckle down and hang out for a full week, or something else. In between time, I’ll work on the actual projects. I have all my supplies in the van. I can work anywhere.”

“Well, so far I haven’t heard you say anything that’s too twisted.” Travis pushed his plate back and eased his chair away from the table. She itched to pull out her camera right then and there to snap a shot of him, the lazy position was so perfect. His dark eyes focused on her as intently as she’d looked him over a moment earlier. “You know not to get in the way, but you might be bored as sin for the next while—calves are dropping, and there’s not that much else happening around the place.”

The news gave her chills. “Calves? Oh, that’s fabulous.”

He groaned. “Hardly. Not when I have to wander the dark for the damn cows who decide to hide from us.”

“It’ll be worth it.” Ashley waggled her brows. “So, it’s a deal? I can use you for a subject? I’d pay you, of course.”

He snorted. “That’s ridiculous. Why the hell would you pay me?”

“You would be a model of a sort—I’ll need to get signed releases from you and any of the family who are in the shots.”

“By the book, Ashley? I swear I don’t even know you.” His words were light but hit a nerve.

“I still break rules, Travis, only not the ones that would get me lawsuits or jail time.” He was going to do it. She knew it, and it was tough to refrain from leaping up and cheering.

“Stop gloating,” he teased. “I can see it on your face—you know you’ve got me twisted around your little finger. Of course you can shadow me, and the family will be no trouble.”

Happy warmth flooded her. “I’ll get you the release forms. They can sign them whenever it’s convenient. And you have my cell phone, so if you’ve got any timeframes that aren’t good, give me a call and we can work around it.”

He nodded as he stood to clean the table. “What’s your deadline?”

“I’ve got three. End of June I send in pencil drawings to a company for a calendar. Then July there are some digital paintings for an advertising promo I lined up independently. End of September for the art gallery—that’s the key one. They’ll sell my projects on consignment for me.”

“A gallery? Holy shit, I didn’t realize that’s who you had this with.” Travis nodded. “You’re doing real good, then.”

“I’m scared shitless, Travis, but yeah, it’s a huge opportunity. Opens doors I only dreamed of.”