The Western Dare (Harlequin Heartwarming) (12 page)

“Friends.” She turned the word over on her tongue and in her mind, recalling how his lips had made her feel. Heart knocking, she eyed him skeptically. “Define ‘friend.’”

“I’m lousy at crossword puzzles—but I’ll give it a stab. Friends lend a helping hand, laugh together, maybe eat together. Hopefully, share a common interest or two.”

Emily nodded. That didn’t sound too threatening. He didn’t flippantly say friends were playmates. “In a way...” She hesitated. “We, uh, do have a common interest. Sherry said you’re remodeling an old farmhouse. My hobby is refinishing furniture.”

“See, I knew we were kindred spirits. Do you work with any special time period?”

“I’m partial to the country-styled hard maples, but I tend to mix and match so long as it’s real wood and not veneer. I guess you could say my taste is eclectic.”

Camp felt the tension slide from his limbs. “Have you ever refinished kitchen cabinets? That’s where I am. Sherry says I should gut the room. I want to modernize, but there’s a brick-walled fireplace I’d like to save. And an old icebox I thought would make good storage until Gret—someone called it an eyesore.”

“Not after it’s refinished. Does your friend know people would practically kill for a real icebox? I’d love to see your place,” she ventured softly. “Maybe I could give you a few tips.”

“More than likely you’d turn tail and run. Even my parents refer to the house as Nolan’s white elephant. They’re convinced I’ll have one foot in the grave before it’s ready for guests. I’ve been working on it in my spare time for eight years. Four bedrooms and two bathrooms are complete. I’ve stripped the living-room and dining-room walls and floors. My bedroom and one I use as an office are the only rooms I’ve furnished. In the kitchen I have a refrigerator, a microwave, and a table and two chairs my folks were throwing away.”

“Think how satisfying it’ll be once it’s finally done. I loved my house. It didn’t need as much work as yours, obviously, but I redecorated every room.”

“You say
loved
as if it’s in the past.”

Her face fell. “I had to sell for financial reasons after Dave died. The kids and I moved into a small duplex. Luckily the people who bought the house wanted a lot of the furniture, too, or else I’d be paying storage every month.”

Camp read the look. He wouldn’t call it luck at all. He thought giving up her house had been tantamount to driving a stake through Emily’s heart. “When we get back to civilization, I’ll draw you a map to my place. I’ve already invited Mark, but if you’re moved to do a little consulting on the side, I’d be happy to hire you.”

“Oh, I couldn’t take money. I wouldn’t.”

“Well, then by all means drop by and toss out opinions.”

“I’d like that. I’d like Mark to do more riding. Do you, by chance, have horses?”

“No, but there’s a stream behind my house that’s great for fishing. I understand Jared’s going to teach Mark how. And I do have a lop-eared mutt who loves kids. A ten-year-old golden lab. He and I walk together every morning. He doesn’t understand why I don’t have time to take him fishing anymore.”

“Mark used to beg for a puppy.” Her lips tightened. “I was afraid—well, his father didn’t like animals. And now,” she lamented, “our place is too small.”

Camp had to temper the rush of anger he felt. Only—as she’d said earlier—there was no sense arguing with a dead man. Nor did Camp want to sound as if he chastised Emily for staying with the jerk. She said he’d threatened to take away her kids. Not that he fully understood how that could happen. It seemed, on the surface anyhow, that someone possessing the tools to work with disadvantaged women could have used those same tools to break free of her own situation. But there he went, judging her unfairly again.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not kidding, Camp. My place is too small for a turtle, let alone a dog. It wouldn’t be fair to the animal.”

“Hey, your word is good.” He stood, wishing he didn’t have these doubts. But the question kept cropping up, and their friendship was too new for him to ask. He faked a yawn. “I’ll wash these dishes before the fire dies and leaves me with cold water. Go on to bed, Emily. Maizie plans to be on the road by six.”

“I’m awake now. You go to bed and let me do the dishes.”

“My mother wouldn’t believe I’d argue if someone offered to wash dishes. See, you’ve warped my psyche. Going by the rules in my house, you fed me, so scram, I’ll handle cleanup.”

“Could I convince you to repeat this conversation to Mark sometime? His father and grandfather voiced definite ideas on what constitutes men’s work compared with women’s. Oh, forget it, the kids’ll just point out that Toby and Mona have a cook and a maid.” She jumped up and poured the basin full of water, then set it on the grate. “I tend to view housework as a team effort. Since that’s my philosophy, we’ll share cleanup and both get to bed faster.”

Camp was struck by a picture of the two of them winding down for the day and walking off to bed hand in hand. A picture so clear that he stopped folding the stools and stood, gazing at the delicate feminine curves of her back.

As if sensing his scrutiny, she turned from scrubbing the bean pot. “Camp?”

“Fine.” He passed a hand over his eyes. “I’m all for teamwork. Let’s cut the small talk and dig in.”

Because there was no other conversation between them, Emily wondered what in their brief exchange had made Camp act so moody. Just as she’d begun to let down her guard with him, too. Well, she’d had a bellyful of moody men. He needn’t worry that she’d press her unwanted company on him again.

“I don’t need an escort service to find my way to my wagon,” she said. A gentleman through and through, Camp padded at her heels, shining a light on the path between their wagons. She didn’t respond to his grumpy “good night.”

Emily had no sooner climbed into her wagon and closed the flap than she decided it’d been churlish to pretend not to hear him. He had put in a full day helping Mark. And Camp had said to begin with that he was tired. It was another example of her past intruding. Emily hated that she’d reverted to the passive-aggressive tendencies she’d developed to cope with staying married. Why did she always end up owing Nolan Campbell apologies? She’d set out to clear the air and now she was back at square one. Fumbling with the ties, Emily threw open the canvas she’d just cinched shut. She expected him still to be there. But he wasn’t.

Just as she considered going to his wagon, his lantern sprang to life. Backlit against a canopy of white was a clear silhouette of Camp removing his shirt. Emily’s mouth went dry. What in the world was she doing? She wasn’t a voyeur, for pity’s sake. Sucking in a huge gulp of night air, Emily drew her canvas closed with shaking fingers. She stumbled on hands and knees to her bed and dived under the covers without removing her clothes. For a long time she lay absolutely still, her mind locked in battle with an unforgivably acute imagination.

* * *

C
AMP
ROUSED
at the faint sound of Maizie’s dinner bell. He groaned. That woman loved to punish late sleepers with the clang of iron against all three sides of that blasted triangle.

He sat up slowly and heard the thump of books hitting the floor. Snapping on a flashlight, he realized he’d fallen asleep in the middle of comparing the women’s data sheets with what was listed in his texts. According to the books, men like Crockett and Boone shunned towns, preferring to live off the land.
His
group, however, looked forward to the promised layover in town.

And not one woman mentioned that the firewood they stocked here would have to last or else, like their pioneer sisters, they’d be out collecting cow chips to burn. Sherry wrote that she was dying to find a bookstore and a beauty shop. Gina wanted to develop her photos. Brittany filled two pages with the plans she and Megan had made: a visit to the rodeo, junk food and shopping. Only Emily mentioned visiting historical points of interest. She named some that Camp had never heard of.

In a moment of weakness, he imagined viewing history through Emily’s eyes. Such beautiful eyes. Forced to deal with a quickening of his heartbeat, Camp thrust thoughts of Emily aside. He gathered the papers and bundled them with the others, then dressed and took a walk in the woods. After a dip in the icy stream, he returned to find that preparations for the day had begun.

Mark and Megan were stuffing their faces with pancakes. Emily didn’t seem to be around. Mark glanced up and greeted Camp with a sticky smile. “Hi. Jared’s dad says if me and him collect piles of wood this morning, he’ll loan me a fishing pole to use for the rest of the trip.”

“Him and I, stupid,” Megan growled before Camp could say a word. “Instead of dragging us on this boring trip, Mom should have stayed home and sent you to summer school.”

“No more’n you. I didn’t get any Ds on my report card.”

Megan’s brows drew down. “Mona said my teachers shouldn’t have given me so much homework. She said they were insensitive to Daddy’s death.”

“A year later?” Mark jeered. “’Sides, what was different? Dad was never home anyway.”

“There’s a lot different. Mona and Toby made sure we lived in a nice house. Wait till you’re my age and have to explain to friends why you moved to a tiny duplex.”

Camp listened to them argue as he built a fire and waited for his coffee to brew. Life must have been rough for Emily. Still was, he acknowledged as he sliced the last of his potatoes to fry with a can of mushrooms. Her in-laws sounded like people who’d stepped straight out of a Stephen King novel. Camp felt like waltzing into that town and telling them to lay off Emily. The idea took shape before he remembered the way they’d parted last night. He stirred the mixture, lamenting how things had turned out.

Sherry ran up, saving Camp from dwelling on the subject.

“Nolan, I’m worried about Gina. She left at dawn to photograph sunflowers. Said she’d be back in half an hour. We’re due to leave soon and she’s not back.”

Camp washed his first bite down with a swallow of coffee. “Gina’s a big girl. She probably decided to skip breakfast in favor of a big lunch in Council Grove.”

Sherry’s troubled gaze drifted along the foothills, where gusts of wind turned the bluestem tallgrass into ocean waves.

“I can tell you believe something’s happened to her. Isn’t it possible she just lost track of the time?”

“Not Gina. She runs her life on a schedule. A lot of us just buy daily planners. Gina actually uses hers.”

“How can you know her so well? You only met two weeks ago.”

Emily passed by carrying an armload of wood and abruptly dropped several sticks. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but did hear Sherry’s gaffe.

Sherry shifted from foot to foot. Her eyes made contact with Emily’s in a silent warning.

“Really, Camp,” Emily chided, crossing to stand beside Sherry. “You don’t have to be very observant to see that Gina runs her life by the clock.”

His gaze skipped to Emily’s open smile. How did she manage to throw him into a tailspin with one smile? “You think Gina should be back by now, too?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay. Let me stow my gear and I’ll ask Robert to help me take a look.” Camp assumed his offer would appease both women. Instead, Sherry bounced a suspicious glance between him and Emily.

“You wouldn’t take my word, but the minute Emily asks, you turn into the Lone Ranger. What gives with you two?”

Emily’s cheeks flushed. Camp sensed where Sherry was headed and tried to ward her off. “It was the buildup of concern, sis. I still doubt there’s a problem, but I’m willing to take your collective word.”

“Oh. Guess I let Brittany influence me. She swears there’s a romance developing between you two.” Snatching the plate from Camp’s hand, Sherry pushed him toward Robert’s wagon, missing the look that passed between him and Emily.

“Why don’t we go ourselves?” Emily asked. “Aren’t we as capable of finding Gina as the men are?”

“Robert’s been over this route,” Camp countered. “He knows the area. Worst-case scenario is Gina had a run-in with a rattler, and Robert’s the best person to deal with that.”

Emily’s eyes glittered angrily for a moment until she registered Sherry’s interest in their spat, and she said through clenched teeth, “No doubt Robert is the best choice.”

Camp came within a hair of responding in kind to her sarcasm. Reconsidering, he tugged the bill of his Kansas City Royals cap over his eyes and went in search of Robert—who was inclined to agree with Camp that Gina had either strayed farther than planned or that she’d lost herself in her work.

Robert dug out a dime. “I’ll flip you for who breaks the bad news to Maizie. She’s raring to get under way. This isn’t going to make her happy.”

“Better you take her tongue-lashing than me, old son,” Camp said, delivering a friendly slap to the man’s back. “Sherry said Gina followed that trail.” He pointed to a faint track leading up the hill. “See where it splits? I’ll search the east branch. After you tell Maizie, hike along the other side. If neither of us finds Gina by six, let’s touch base back at the fork and switch to plan B.”

“Which is?” Robert frowned.

“Beats me,” Camp said. “I just made up plan A. She supposedly hiked the Sierras alone. I’m counting on her to beat us back.”

Robert nodded, and the two went their separate ways. Camp soon discovered that his portion of the trail petered out. He loped to the fork, expecting that he’d engaged in this morning exercise for nothing. He broke into a jog the minute the crossroads—where Robert paced irritably—came into sight.

“Don’t tell me,” Camp panted, removing his sunglasses to blot away the sweat trickling into his eyes. “No Gina.”

“That’s right, and this trail dead-ends on the other side of the hill in a cornfield. As far as I can see is farmland. Some fallow, most planted. I’m going back for my binoculars. The way the wind whistles through the corn stalks, it’s impossible to tell if she’s out there wandering around.”

“You think she might be?”

“It’d be my guess. Philly opened his big mouth last night and blabbed about this being the place where they’ve reported odd circles in the middle of cornfields. Circles some fool claims were made by spaceships. If she went in to take pictures and got turned around, it could take her two days to find her way out.”