The Western Dare (Harlequin Heartwarming) (23 page)

“Hold on a minute.” Maizie chased him. He scrambled onto the high seat, cracked his reins and bounced his wagon off across the open plains.

Maizie spit her wad of gum in his wake. For once Camp wished it’d been a stream of tobacco.

“Want me to catch the jerk and shake some manners into him?” Camp asked.

“Nah. Let him go. There’s one on every trip. He’s been obnoxious a heap o’ years. We aren’t likely to change him.”

Camp noticed how the women, including Brittany and Megan, suddenly sobered, their fear replaced by grit and determination. He was both humbled and proud, and wished Lyle Roberts could see this display of courage. Modern women might enjoy modern comforts, but these ladies had guts with a capital G. As they moved forward, Camp raised a closed fist to the advancing storm and issued a rebel yell.

With Philly far out in front, the others filtered into two lines. All twenty-eight horses strained against their harnesses. Yet they were driving into such heavy, gusty winds, there were times it felt as if they were standing still.

Except for wild cotton and an occasional tuft of primrose, the grasses had been beaten down by the rain. Before the travelers often saw silos or farms in the distance; now they might have been the only humans on the planet. They had all bent to shield their faces from the harsh wind, so no one realized the Shaws’ wagon had hit a scrub manzanita and blown a rear balloon tire. Not until the first row of wagons practically ran the Shaws down.

“The rest of you keep truckin’,” Maizie yelled over the wind’s howl. “Robert and I will change that tire. I’ve got a couple spares in my wagon.”

“I’ll help, too,” Camp shouted.

Maizie waved him on. “You stay with the women. I’ve seen at least two funnel clouds pass behind us. See? Directly south is Rabbit Ears.”

Peering through red-rimmed eyes, Camp saw the protruding rocks still some distance away. Nodding, he motioned for the others to keep moving. He didn’t like the thought of leaving anyone behind.

Emily’s Belgians arched their thick necks and heaved forward. Sherry’s team fought their bits, circled and nearly ripped the traces out of her hands.

Camp pulled alongside. “Let’s trade wagons, sis. We can’t risk getting stuck out here.”

“No. I’ll show them who’s boss.” Muscles bunched, Sherry forced the cantankerous animals into line.

“Maizie said there’s a cut between that rounded rock and the flat-topped hill that forms the ears. Head there. Unhitch the teams,” he bellowed. “The horses will do better unencumbered. We’ll take shelter in the rocks.”

Each driver flashed him the thumbs-up sign.

The closer they got to the rock formation, the more wicked the lightning. Hail rained down in large white pellets. Thunder hammered. Peal after peal blended with the pounding gallop of the horses’ hooves.

Off to his left, Camp saw a twister unfold. It hovered five or so feet above the ground. For a minute it seemed to chase Mark’s wagon. Just as quickly, it veered off and whistled across the open prairie. Camp swallowed a lump lodged in his throat. Sweat popped out on his forehead despite a sharp drop in temperature. Still he urged his team faster. His shoulders ached from the pull of the lathered horses. He honestly didn’t know how the women managed with their lesser strength. But they did.

At last Mark’s lead wagon entered the dark crevasse snaking into the only shelter for miles around. Camp breathed a little easier after Emily reached it, too. Doris’s team disappeared next. Sherry’s wagon made the turn seconds before Camp’s own. There was no time for congratulations. No sooner had they all freed their teams than there arose a fiendish howl accompanied by thick, churning black clouds.

Stunned, the bedraggled group watched small trees being sucked into a gyrating funnel tearing along the pass. Red dirt swirled as angry black clouds swallowed lightning bolts and put on a laser show. Rumbling, tumbling toward them, it ate the earth like some greedy late-show monster.

Camp screamed for everyone to take cover. No one moved. Instead, they all seemed paralyzed, staring in horror. Except for Emily. She shoved those closest to her flat to the ground. Once she’d helped Sherry and Brittany, Emily ran to assist Gina down from the wagon.

Adrenaline pumping, Camp tore up the rocky trail. He flung Doris, then Vi, into a rocky hollow. With seconds to spare, he used his own body to shield Mark, Jared and Megan. Over the noise, he heard a horse scream in fright, but dared not raise his head as thick, humid air whistled above him like a banshee.

A saddle horse, tied to the back of Camp’s wagon, broke his rope and bolted. At least two of the freed teams galloped wildly back the way they’d come. The most Camp could do was hope he hadn’t led his party into a death trap. And what about Emily? Had she reached cover? Last he saw, she was attempting to help Gina.

It seemed that he clung to the sharp rocks forever, listening as the cries of his fellow travelers competed with the ear-splitting shriek of the funnel. In reality, the hideous experience lasted less than twenty seconds. Even after silence descended, it took time for them to untangle their limbs and stop shaking enough to assess the damage.

“It tore the water barrel off the side of my wagon,” Gina reported, hobbling along the rutted, cratered ground the microburst had left in its wake.

“We lost the front third of our canvas,” Vi relayed anxiously. “Our team looks dazed, but intact,” Doris added.

Drained of energy and color, Emily clamped a shaky arm around each of her children. “What’s important is that we all came through unscathed. Has the danger passed enough for one of us to ride out and see how Robert and Maizie are doing?” she asked Camp.

“I’ll go see in a minute,” he said, giving in to a desperate need to touch her hair. “We need to round up all the horses before they break a leg in potholes left by the twister.”

“I’ll help.” Mark pulled from Emily’s grasp.

Seeing the concern cross her already pinched features, Camp turned the boy down. “You and Jared start a fire so we can dry things out. Seems the sky is clearing to the south, but we’re not necessarily out of danger. I’m assuming, after all that’s happened, Maizie’ll decide to dig in here for the night.”

“You can’t handle bringing in all the runaways by yourself, Camp,” Emily said quietly. “Once the boys get a fire started, Doris and Vi can break out packets of soup. I’ll go with you after the horses if you like.”

He did like. The thought of the two of them sharing the task—appealed immensely to Camp. It took only moments to capture the surefooted gelding he’d snubbed to Mark’s wagon earlier. He boosted Emily onto the broad, bare back, then swung up behind her, asking Sherry to hobble and feed the horses that had begun to mill about.

“Do you suppose everyone who got caught out in the open is all right?” Emily asked worriedly the minute they cleared the outcrop of rocks.

“Yes. See?” Camp directed her gaze. “They’re driving in now. Looks like all are accounted for.” He felt a sigh of relief whisper through Emily’s frame.

“I’m so thankful. I had visions of us having to try to bury someone on the trail the way the early pioneers did. We may be more technically advanced, but when it comes to the elements we’re still at their mercy.”

“We certainly are.” He laced both arms around her slender waist. “I’m ready for this trip to end, Em. What if something bad had happened to you or the kids? Or to anyone I talked into coming?”

“You didn’t talk us into anything. We volunteered.”

“Why did you? You’d have made a lot more money teaching summer school.”

“The truth, Camp,” Emily blurted out, “is that Sherry twisted my arm and Gina’s. I’d told Sherry I wanted to spirit the kids away from my in-laws. And Sherry met Gina when Gina attended her program after a rough divorce. It was your sister who convinced her to backpack in the Sierras. Sherry’s counting on us to prove that women are tough. The joke’s on us. Stacked up against Mother Nature, we aren’t tough at all.”

“So Sherry did load the scales. I never would’ve believed she’d be that devious. Or that you’d all go along with a lie.”

“I wouldn’t call it devious...exactly. And we didn’t lie on our applications. You weren’t exactly playing fair, either, Camp. To be totally unbiased you should have booked an equal number of men. Randomly selected, of course.”

“Of course,” he said, sounding irked. “There’s one of our runaway teams. Do you want to walk them back to the cut, or should I?”

Emily started to slide off the gelding. Pausing, she turned and gazed into Camp’s eyes. “Sherry did me a favor. I’d never have met you otherwise.”

Camp felt the tension leave his body. Swinging down, he took Emily in his arms and kissed her tenderly. “I have a distinct feeling Sherry isn’t nearly as pleased about that as we are. If you want the whole truth, I can’t be too mad at her, either.”

Emily leaned an ear against his chest and listened to his reassuring heartbeat. “She probably considers me a traitor. Then there’s Megan. If looks could kill we’d both be dead. What are we going to do, Camp?”

He rubbed his hands over Emily’s back. “I’ll talk to Megan, Em. She’s part grown-up, part child. I’ll find a time when she’s not hanging out with Brittany. Maybe tonight.”

Emily gazed at him somberly. “My kids have been through so much turmoil. How can I put them through more?”

He drew her up on her toes and covered her mouth fiercely. He would find time to talk with Megan, he vowed, releasing Emily’s limp form to stride away.

* * *

B
UT
THE
TIME
didn’t present itself. There was too much work to be done to repair the damage. Relations within the group as a whole were strained, even though preparations for a celebratory dinner were under way by the time Camp brought in the last strayed horse. Dinner for all but the couple from Philadelphia, Camp noticed.

Emily baked the last of her cake mixes. Vi contributed the honey-almond topping. Gina broke out a special blend of coffee she’d been hoarding.

Philly and his wife were very pointedly excluded from the festivities.

“Let’s not be petty,” Camp said, wanting to ease the rift. “We should all be thankful to be alive.” When it became clear that his efforts at mediation had failed, he excused himself to go work on his report. But the words he needed to describe the day wouldn’t come. He fell asleep staring moodily into his flickering lantern.

Emily stayed up after the others had said good-night. Memory of the twister remained too real for her to sleep.

Camp’s light still glowed. She wondered if he, too, worried about another storm. Tiptoeing to the back of his wagon, she parted the wet canvas. “Camp?” she whispered. He didn’t stir. Emily realized he’d fallen asleep with his lantern burning. Afraid that might be dangerous, she climbed over the feed trough and crept toward the light.

She’d lowered the flame when Camp suddenly bolted upright, tumbling her headfirst into his supplies. A small scuffle ended as he emerged from his stupor and felt her crushed beneath him.

“Emily?” He blinked sleepy eyes, carefully scanning her damp hair and pale face. With a shaking hand, he smoothed his fingers down her cheek. “It’s really you. You were just in my dream.”

“A nightmare, you mean?” Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I missed your help with the dishes. Everyone else always disappears after eating.”

He kissed her softly. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” he murmured.

“Camp, it’s late. I should go back to my wagon.”

“Why?” He nuzzled her neck, drawing in the scent of her perfume. “You smell like raindrops and jasmine. Mmm, my favorite scents.”

“What I smell like is horse,” she murmured.

Kissing her arched brow, he eased her out of her jacket, tossed it aside and covered her with a portion of his down sleeping bag. He pulled her against his chest. “You scared me today. What if I’d lost you?” He rubbed his chin over her bright hair.

Sighing, she stretched like a cat. “Don’t make me too comfortable. I can’t stay.”

Emily brushed her fingers through a lock of his dark hair that had fallen rakishly over his forehead. As she watched his chest rise and fall beneath his shirt, her urgent reasons for leaving his wagon dimmed. Nothing had felt this right in so long. Too long, she thought.

Emily lay curled contentedly in Camp’s sheltering arms. They talked in fits and spurts and made elaborate plans for their future well into the rainy night.

Twice Emily said she needed to go back to her wagon. Both times Camp wrapped her tighter and kissed her until she snuggled against him and agreed to stay a little longer. Together they laughed over how the wind rocked the wagon like a cradle, never guessing it would lull them to sleep.

* * *

“M
OTH
-
ER
!”

Emily woke abruptly to a drizzly gray dawn and Megan’s frantic shout. In a panic, Emily frantically collected her jacket.

Not sharing her sense of urgency, Camp leaned over and kissed her. “What’s the rush?” he mumbled.

She shook him off. “Are you crazy?” she hissed. “What will Megan think? I’ve never spent the night with a man.”

Camp’s lips curved as he sat up and filtered his fingers through her sleep-tangled hair. “Kids are probably more accepting than we are, Em.”

He didn’t realize that she stiffened at his casual tone.

Camp vaulted out of the wagon first. He raised both arms to help her down just as Megan, accompanied by Brittany and Sherry, slopped through the puddles between the two wagons. Megan skidded to a stop. The others piled into her.

Color drained from the girl’s face. “I didn’t know where you were!” Disgust replaced the fear in her eyes. “You slept with him. How could you?” Covering her face, she ran blindly through the rain.

Camp shielded Emily as best he could. He expected Sherry’s support and was disturbed to hear her side with Megan.

Clutching Brittany’s arm, Sherry stared at her brother and her friend in confusion. “Find Megan,” she urged Brittany. “Tell her she can bunk with us for the time being.”

“Yeah,” Brittany said stoutly. “This is totally gross. And I’m never going to take another of Nolan’s stupid classes.”