The Western Dare (Harlequin Heartwarming) (21 page)

“Uh-huh.” Camp found himself uttering Maizie’s stock reply. Whoever the blond stranger was, Camp judged, he wasn’t an escaped convict.

“Don’t blame you for not being in a hurry to catch her,” the man said with a smile. “If you give me a minute to stoke the fire, I can offer you coffee. The name is Lock. Dr. Garrett Lock.” He leaned forward and extended a broad hand, which Camp accepted.

“Doctor? Medical, dental or academic?” Camp released the cold, damp fingers, looped his reins over the Jeep’s bumper and began to loosen the saddle girth.

Hunkering down to fan a low, smoldering flame, the man in the sweatshirt pointed to the logo on his shirt. “Assistant dean of collaborative programs in Huntsville, Texas. At the college,” he added in afterthought.

“Really?” Camp glanced at the overlong, dirt-caked hair, the Jeep and the worn tent. “Quite a ways from home, aren’t you, Lock?”

“Yeah. My son and I pan for gold every summer. He’s eight. This year, my ex-wife decided to get married. Carla—that’s her—hasn’t seen Keith since she walked out. Because she’s marrying again, she’s exerting her rights under our shared custody agreement. Insisted I send Keith to Saint Louis for the summer, so he could meet the jerk she’s marrying. I should have canceled this trip, but after two weeks of rattling around the house alone... You have any kids?” He looked at Camp. “Sorry, here I am rambling, and I didn’t even catch your name.”

“Nolan Campbell. And no, I don’t have children. I’m also a Ph.D. History.” Leaning on the Jeep’s fender, he crossed his ankles and supplied the name of his college in Columbia.

“No kidding?” Lock peppered him with questions as he tossed out old grounds and deftly assembled a new pot of coffee.

Camp answered the rapid-fire queries about his campus, a slight frown creasing his brow, furrowing deeper with each successive question.

“It really is a small world, Campbell. The night before I left Huntsville, I sent in my application for the dean of human services vacancy at your college.” He sighed. “Don’t get me wrong—I like what I’m doing. But with Carla making noises about seeing more of Keith, it’d behoove me to move closer to her. Not that I’d want to be in the same town. Columbia’s a good compromise. So I called the college job line and learned the dean’s position had just been posted.”

“Um.” Camp stared at his boots. “I didn’t realize our dean was leaving.” The position Lock had mentioned was the one currently held by Sherry’s boss. Camp wondered if she knew. Wouldn’t that be something, if her so-called outlaw ended up her boss? A bizarre coincidence, to say the least.

Camp could visualize how the fur would fly. But he was jumping ahead of himself. A dean’s opening meant hundreds of applicants. Maybe Lock was qualified, but it was a long shot to assume he’d get the job. “Maybe I will have some coffee,” Camp decided aloud.

“Sure.” Lock’s teeth gleamed evenly white as his lips parted in a smile. “After that dunking, I need something hot.”

“I understand. I’ve frozen my buns more than once on this trek.” Briefly Camp outlined the paper he was writing and how he’d come to be out here in the wilds himself. In the interest of self-preservation he refrained from mentioning that one of his subjects—the wild woman with the dark hair—was his sister.

Garrett Lock disappeared into his battered tent. He came out with coffee mugs and two folding stools. He also handed Camp a business card. “Whether or not I’m chosen for the position, I’d like to read your published piece. I’m kicking around doing one on displaced homemakers—women reentering the workforce after years spent at home. We’re quick to hand them grants to continue their education, but we ignore their low self-esteem and in some cases, their lack of assertiveness. Obviously not a problem in your group.” He ruefully touched his head again.

Camp waited while Garrett poured the steaming coffee and handed one of the mugs to him, then he lifted his mug in a toast. “To the women of the Santa Fe Trail—then and now. You know, Lock, my colleagues expect the women on my expedition to fail. I admit I had my doubts at first, too. I’ve since changed my opinion.”

Lock didn’t smile. “As a sociologist, I try to keep an open mind. Although in my own situation, I’m afraid I’m only human. To tell you the truth, I’m furious with my ex. Carla’s been so wrapped up in becoming a big-shot bank officer, she neglected our son. Till now.”

Camp took a drink from his mug and thought about Emily’s bad experience with her husband, and now with her in-laws. “Speaking as someone who has feelings for a lady with two kids—one of whom would rather her mom got involved with a space alien than me—I’d guess your ex is going through some rocky times, too.”

“Maybe. Hey, how did we hit on this depressing subject? Tell me more about your college and Columbia.”

Camp did just that. Then they touched a bit on academic philosophy. Camp enjoyed their conversation immensely. He almost hated to leave. But his coffee was finished and he knew the others would worry if he didn’t get back soon.

Standing, he tightened Mincemeat’s cinch. “I don’t have one of my cards with me, Lock. If you decide to take an unofficial look at the campus, I’m in the phone book.”

“It helps just knowing there’s a friendly face among the faculty if I reach the interview stage. Y’all take care on your trip. I have a shortwave radio, and a ham operator out of Houston passed along information of hurricane activity. I was debating whether to head home about the time I met your...friends.”

Camp’s ears perked. “Hurricane? We still have to cross the North Canadian River twice and the Carizozo.”

Lock whistled softly. “’Course, that doesn’t mean the rains will blow inland.”

“No, but thanks for the warning. We’re trying to simulate what the pioneers would have gone through as closely as possible, but that doesn’t mean we want to risk anyone’s life.” Reaching out, he clasped Lock’s hand. “Good luck on the job hunt.”

“Tell the wildcat she may get another crack at me.” As Camp swung into the saddle, Garrett added, “I never asked if she lived in Columbia. Am I liable to run into her in a dark alley?” His face split in a purely male grin.

Camp thought briefly about his direct omission—in not mentioning Sherry’s position at the college or her relationship to him. But chances were slight that a man who looked like Grizzly Adams would be offered a job by the staid board of directors at his institution. Smiling, Camp shook his head.

“That’s good,” Lock said, lifting two fingers in salute. “If she crossed gloves with Evander Holyfield, my money would be on the brunette’s knockout punch.”

As Camp kneed his mount into the dark river, Garrett Lock faded into an opaque haze. Looking back, he thought it was as if the scene had never happened. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe he’d dreamed the entire thing. Sherry certainly wouldn’t believe him if he told her the man she thought was an escaped convict actually had visions of replacing her boss—a guy who wore Italian silk ties and custom-made suits.

Once Camp left the river, the stars popped out overhead and the moon sent silvery shafts of light dancing in and out of the rain-drenched prairie grasses. Gazing at the panorama of stars, he found it difficult to imagine a storm headed this way.

At the outskirts of the row of wagons, Sherry ran to meet him. Her face was pale in the moonlight and dark circles ringed her eyes. “Where have you been? I imagined you lying out there somewhere, shot dead.”

Camp climbed off the pinto. “Then you ought to be ecstatic when I tell you I saw nary a dead body nor a man with a gun.”

Her hands fluttered to his sleeve. “I’m thankful I didn’t kill him. Oh, Nolan, I’ve been so worried.”

“About me or him?” he teased.

“You first...and him. Both.” She swallowed several times before throwing her arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek. “I’m sick from worry. I’m going to bed. Everyone else has. Oh, Emily saved you some hash and asked if you’d please bank her fire.”

His eyes automatically swerved to the one remaining campfire. His heart had kicked over like a newly wound watch when he’d thought of Emily waiting up. Now his pulse dropped back to normal. He looped an arm around Sherry’s neck and aimed a kiss at her forehead. “I have to see to my horse. Then I’ll tend Emily’s fire. Honestly, I’m too bushed to eat.”

“I’m sorry to have sent you on a wild-goose chase, Nolan. You can bet I’ll keep up from now on.”

“Good. And I’ll keep better watch. Sherry...”

“Yes?” She turned at his serious tone.

“I know we have a tendency to argue. In case I haven’t said it in a while...I do love you.”

“Are...you...all right, Nolan?”

He caught up, snagged her neck with one hand and pretended to shake her. “I’m fine. Can’t a guy tell his sister he loves her once in a blue moon?”

She fidgeted. “Yeah. And same to you, Campbell. Don’t let it get out, but I like knowing you’ll always be there for me.” She gave him a crooked grin. “Enough of this sentimentality. I gotta run.”

Camp’s bemused expression gave way to one of exasperation as she dashed away. She’d been a difficult baby, too. And an independent teen.

“That was sweet of you,” said a soft voice from the shadows of his wagon.

“Emily?” His tone showed his delight at having her appear after all.

“Sherry likes everyone to see her as strong and tough. Underneath she’s a marshmallow. A lot lonelier than she lets on.”

His head came up as he lifted the saddle from the gelding. “Pretty deep assessment of somebody you’ve known less than six weeks.”

“Camp...I...” Emily almost told him she’d known Sherry a lot longer. That they were friends and had served on intercollegiate committees together. But Sherry didn’t want him to know.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to take your head off. I forgot you psychologists love to probe a man’s soul.” Grabbing a brush, he groomed the horse before leading him to a deep patch of grass and affixing his hobble.

Emily remained where he’d left her, hands linked loosely in front of her, a faint crease between her brows. “We were talking about women. I’d never presume to second-guess men. I made a royal mess of that once.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I really didn’t mean to snap. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

“I know.” She sighed. “When we got back home, Brittany carried on for an hour. I’m glad you didn’t find anything.”

“Nothing of consequence.” He suppressed a shiver of guilt at the lie, but decided he really couldn’t tell her about Garrett Lock—and risk Sherry finding out. He glanced up at the sky. “Did Maizie mention the possibility of another storm?”

Emily followed his gaze. She grabbed the lapels of her jacket and pulled it a little tighter. “The wind’s picked up, and it’s gotten colder. But no, she didn’t say anything. At least not to me. Come sit by the fire. You must be hungry as well as tired. I saved a plate of hash.”

He stopped her with a hand at her elbow. When she turned, he curved a palm around her cheek. “Thanks for looking out for me, Emily. I’ve wanted a chance to talk. About us.”

Her lips turned down and sadness darkened her eyes. “There can’t be any us, Camp. Megan may seem all mouth and bluster to you, but this thing with Mona and Toby really shook her. I can’t do anything that’ll threaten the little security she has.”

“You’re entitled to a life, Emily.”

“I have a life. I have my home, my children, my work.”

He felt her tremble at his touch. “Is that enough, Em? What about five years down the road when your nest is empty and your job becomes routine?”

“In five years Mark will still be in high school. I’ll grow with my job,” she said desperately.

“I’m sure you will. I won’t argue with you, Emily. It’s not my aim to make your life more difficult. Say, where’s that food you promised a starving man?”

She took a deep breath and let it struggle out in a thin laugh. “Don’t be so accommodating, Campbell. A woman likes to have the illusion that she’s worth fighting for. And you know perfectly well where I cook the food.”

She would have whirled and marched off toward the flickering fire, but he snatched her hand. “Who do you want me to fight? Megan? Your in-laws? I intend to talk with Megan. And I won’t say it hasn’t entered my mind to steal you away. All of you.”

Another sigh trickled through her lips. “I said it before and I’ll say it again—you’re a dear, sweet man, Nolan Campbell. But talking to Meggie is like batting your head against a stone wall. Stealing me away is a nice fantasy, but I learned a long time ago that you can’t run from your obligations. You’re good for my ego, though. I was feeling quite sorry for myself.”

“That’s the last thing you should do, Emily. Will you stay while I eat? I hate to ask—I’m sure you’re beat, too. You did more than your share today, helping dig Gina’s wagon out of the mud, and then, riding out with me to find Sherry and Brittany.”

“I’m a night owl. It doesn’t seem to matter how early I get up, sleep doesn’t come easily.”

“Something else we have in common, insomnia. Except, when I do drop off, I could sleep till noon. You’re up with the roosters. Before the roosters,” he corrected.

“Holdover from growing up on a farm. We had to
feed
the roosters.”

“And milk the cows and walk nine miles to school in the snow.” Mouth quirked in a teasing smile, Camp leaned close to the pot, sniffing the hash as he dished it up. He was grateful that because of Terrill’s strategic visits they had more plentiful and more varied meals than had been available to the pioneers. “This smells great. I didn’t realize I was so hungry.” Taking the fork Emily handed him, he sat back and dug in.

“You know, Camp, I didn’t mind life on the farm, although we worked constantly. Oh, I grumbled at the time, I’m sure. All kids faced with chores do. But this trip reinforces the basic values I learned.”

Fork halfway to his mouth, Camp stopped to stare at the woman curled comfortably in the lawn chair. Her eyes sparkled like the stars; her cheeks glowed with good health. Suddenly he imagined her puttering around his big old country kitchen. Imagined her capable hands planting flowers, and maybe a garden. He saw Mark chasing down to the stream, fishing pole in hand, followed by Pilgrim, his golden lab. Megan...didn’t quite fit. Her image was fuzzy, not clear like the others. He shook his head and quickly took another bite.