Distraction (16 page)

River walked forward and on cue Red picked up his big
feet and followed.

“If you never had a horse in Salem, how did you get
around?”

“We walked. Everything was close, not like here where
land seems to stretch on endlessly like the ocean.”

“Well, I know you didn’t walk to Montana.” He fell
silent apparently expecting me to fill in the gap with exactly how
I landed so far from home at the feet of a bear.

“No, I didn’t walk.” I pulled the coat tighter around
me, not so much due to cold this time but rather to nerves. The
train, had I known they existed, would have been a perfect
explanation, but my burst of cowardice no longer made that a
plausible option. “It’s a long story, Cade. I’ll tell you one
day.”

He seemed to sense the distress his question had
caused me and didn’t continue. “You ready to pick up the pace?”

My gloved fingers tightened around the leather reins.
“I thought you’d never ask.”

My already tender bottom bounced from side to side
landing each time with a thud on the saddle as the horses trotted
to the first line of fencing. I couldn’t contain my laughter. My
uncontrolled mirth seemed to make the horses go even faster until
Cade slowed them down with the slightest movement of his hand. We
reached a scraggly looking fence that, on first sight, seemed
impossibly frail to keep in a cow or keep out a wolf, but then I
noticed the narrow coils of silver were dotted with menacingly
sharp protrusions, sharp enough to tear the flesh off any animal
silly enough to cross it.

“I’ve never seen a fence like that. It looks
terrifying.”

“The barbed wire? I guess you don’t have any need for
it in Salem. It’s as important as water out here. Once free range
ranching ended, ranchers needed a cheap way to keep the cattle from
wandering. Best invention of the century, in my opinion. But you
never want to get too close to it. I can tell you that from
experience.”

“I would expect a great deal of pain and blood and
some stitching. I guess it would be rather like getting slapped by
a bear.”

“No, your bear attack has my barbed wire accident
beat, but my left thigh has a pretty nice little line of train
tracks. Wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d managed to free the calf
that had wandered into it, but the little guy had lost too much
blood.”

“That’s a shame.” A crackling noise from within some
thorny shrubs caused Red to skip ahead a few steps, and I slipped
sideways. I pushed my foot against the stirrup and straightened. “I
suppose this giant coat would break my fall if I were to slide off
the saddle.”

“You might be right. Knowing Libby, that was already
part of her plan.”

“I haven’t seen many wolves.” I wondered if I was
foolish to bring it up, and yet, I hoped I could allay any fears I
had about it. “At least not face to face. Are the blue eyes really
that unusual?”

“I’ve never seen one before, but I’m sure it happens.
You don’t need to worry about the wolf, Poppy. They don’t come out
in the day, and they rarely come in close to the farmsteads. I
think one wild animal attack will be enough for your visit here in
Montana.”

Naturally, he thought I was worried about being
attacked by a wolf. The real reasoning behind my question would
have been too outlandish to explain. It was even far out of my
realm of thinking. I’d obviously fallen prey to my own imagination
and fears. “I definitely don’t need any more animals to take a swat
at me.” I pressed my arm against my side. “It’s all healed up, but
sometimes, when I’m cold like now, I can still feel the wound in my
flesh.”

“That’s normal. I have a bullet hole in my shoulder
that, when the winter snow comes in, feels as fresh as the day I
got shot.”

“Your thigh? Your shoulder? Is there any part of you
that hasn’t been hurt yet?”

He seemed to be contemplating my question for a
moment and then he nodded. He tapped his chest. “Yeah, my heart.”
He looked over at me. “But it’s feeling mighty vulnerable these
days, so who knows.”

I didn’t respond. It was hard to know when he was
serious or just being flirtatious— something he was apparently
quite practiced at.

An hour into the ride, the perimeter of the ranch
seemed never ending. Dark splotches of cattle stood as still as
statues on the muted green hillsides, an intermittent flip of a
tail the only true sign that I was not just staring at a
painting.

“Whoa,” Cade said as he pulled the horses to a stop.
He hopped off and dropped his reins to the ground. “The horses will
stand on their own. I just need to check out this section of fence
a little closer.”

“All right.” I took the opportunity to remove my feet
from the stirrup and stretch my legs out. My muscles were starting
to cramp painfully. I surveyed the area. Behind me several small
birds with gray wings and bright yellow bellies played in the
branch of a tree. They weren’t like any bird I’d seen in Salem. At
home, in my small village, I’d never really given thought to the
existence of anything past our quaint town and home. And yet, it
seemed the new world stretched on forever with vastly different
trees and vastly different creatures spread throughout.

I’d been so occupied with watching the birds, I
hadn’t noticed that Cade had finished his fence inspection. My feet
were still out of the stirrups.

“I’m an idiot.” He looked at my outstretched leg.
“You’re tired. Let’s stop for lunch.”

“My legs just needed a little unfolding. I’m fine.
Unless, of course, you’re ready to stop.” My feet searched for the
stirrups, but they seemed to be purposely avoiding the toes of my
boots.

Cade walked over and took hold of my ankle and stuck
my foot into the stirrup. Then he walked around to the other side
and did the same. “That sunny hillside across the way is perfect
for a lunch stop.”

“That would be nice.” I had to tamp down the elation
I felt about getting out of the saddle. My only worry was climbing
back on after lunch. We seemed to be halfway around the ranch,
which meant we had a long path back home in either direction.

We walked the horses to the hillside. In my quest to
take in the scenery, I hadn’t realized that, as Cade had predicted,
most of the clouds had vanished. Rich, warm rays of sunlight bathed
the gentle slope.

Cade climbed off River and then stopped next to Red.
He looked up at me expectantly.

“I’m sure I can manage to climb down alone.” I pulled
the foot opposite of where he stood out of the stirrup. “I’m
getting used to this cumbersome coat.”

“I know you can climb down on your own—” he said,
still standing next to my horse.

I threw my free leg over and searched blindly for
solid ground. Once I found it, I pulled the other foot from the
stirrup and my legs collapsed beneath me like pudding.

Cade grabbed me and kept me from plunging to my
knees. His hands squeezed around the excess fabric of the coat as
he held my arms and dipped his face closer to mine. “—I figured it
was standing once you got down that you’d have problems with.”

I looked down at my legs and stomped my feet to get
some feeling back into them. “I think they’re coming back. I feel a
tingling sensation.” I lifted my face and smiled. “I think I can
stand on my own now.”

“Shame.” It took him longer than necessary to let his
hands drop. He meandered over to the leather satchel hanging on his
saddle and pulled out the sandwiches.

The horses were happy to stand on the grassy knoll
and graze while we wandered up a bit higher. The grass looked dry,
brittle, and less than inviting.

I looked down at the coat. “Do you think Libby would
mind if we used this to sit on? It’s big enough, and the sun has
warmed the air nicely.”

“I think it’s big enough for us and the horses too.
I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Before I could figure exactly how to pry myself from
the cavernous depths of the coat, Cade had moved behind me. His
hands reached up, and he slid the coat from my shoulders. His
fingertips stroked my arms as he lowered the coat and then before I
realized what was happening, he pressed his mouth against the side
of my neck and kissed me. The heat of it swirled through me as his
mouth lingered on my skin for several tantalizing moments. I should
have been angered, or at the very least flustered by his brazen
confidence, but I was neither.

“Shall we eat?” I asked unable to hide the tremble in
voice. My unsteady tone was not from nerves but from the
realization that I wanted more. And at the same time, I knew I was
not emotionally or physically prepared for Cade Tanner. I would be
leaving Montana soon enough, one way or another, and I knew that I
was already in complete and utter danger of leaving with a broken
heart.

Ignoring the intimate kiss for the time being, we sat
shoulder to shoulder on the crisp coat and stared out at a field of
cows while we ate our lunch. The purple silhouettes of a long, low
mountain range provided a rough border between grass and sky. Cade
finished his sandwich in several bites, and I offered him the other
half of mine.

I pulled off the crust and tossed it into the grass
hoping to attract some of the yellow-bellied birds I’d seen
earlier. “Is Jackson out here somewhere looking after your herd?” I
started a conversation to keep my mind off the reality that we were
alone. There was a raw urgency surrounding Cade, which was both
compelling and at the same time terrifying, but not in the sense
that he frightened me. Indeed, it was my own yielding, passionate
reactions to his touch that scared me witless.

“Somewhere. He’s probably on the east side of the
ranch by now.”

“It’s so vast, I don’t know how you keep from getting
lost.”

“I grew up on this ranch. I could find my way around
it blindfolded.”

My bird lure had worked. Several of the feathered
critters were brave enough to venture toward the crusts. I pushed
to my feet and walked closer. They hopped away but then seemed to
notice the piece of bread in my hands and waited patiently for me
to toss it to them.

“Do you have meadowlarks in Salem?” Cade pulled his
hat from his head. It was rare for him to be without it, and while
the symmetrical, chiseled planes of his face were always shaded by
his hat brim, it was still easy to see that he was startlingly
handsome. Now, with full light and no hat, he was nothing short of
breathtaking. With his usual relaxed confidence, he leaned back on
his elbows and watched me.

“If we do, I’ve never seen them. They are so
beautiful.”

“Very beautiful,” he said quietly.

I pretended not to notice the way his hungry gaze
nearly stroked me as I stood in front of him. I focused on my new
little friends. I had not heard him move, but seconds later, Cade
stood directly behind me.

I continued to toss bread crumbs, exceptionally aware
of his nearness and unsure of how to react to it. Then my heart
took control of my thoughts and I faced him. He looked down at me
with enough heat to scorch the ground we stood on. But I’d started
this, knowing full well that I would be just inches from him and
that unavoidable draw of his.

“Remember when I told you I’d never danced with a boy
before and then you danced with me?” My voice seemed to get lost in
the vastness surrounding us.

“How could I forget it?” His feet moved closer, and
while cool air swirled around us, the space between us heated up
like a blazing hearth.

“Well, I’ve never kissed a—”

Time and space blurred, and before I could finish my
words or realize what was happening, his hands grabbed my arms and
his mouth came down hungrily over mine. Slowly, he released his
rather rough hold on my arms and his hands drifted over my back.
His mouth still covered mine as he pulled me against his chest. I
found my lips instinctively parting as his kiss deepened. There was
no way to measure the passage of time as we kissed, but with each
stroke of his tongue, my body melted against him and I felt as
vulnerable as a rag doll in his arms.

“Whooee!”

A sharp cry from below broke the intensity and,
however reluctantly, the kiss ended.

My head nearly spun off my shoulders, and I wasn’t
completely sure I wouldn’t roll backwards down the slope once he
released me. It took him a moment, it seemed, to gather his
composure as well. Then he shot an irritated glance at the pasture
below.

Jackson’s smile nearly split his face as he rode up
the slope to greet us. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“Too late,” Cade said angrily. “What do you want? Is
there something wrong with the herd or did you just decide that you
hadn’t annoyed me enough yet today?”

I felt my cheeks warm as Jackson threw a wink my
way.

“Jacks!” Cade snapped. “Why’d you come up here?” The
heat of passion had turned to the heat of rage, but Jackson didn’t
seem the least bit worried that Cade glared at him as if he might,
if given the chance, break him in two. Obviously, there was an
unspoken bond between the two men that allowed Jackson to know,
with confidence, that Cade would never hurt him.

The cold wind had left Jackson’s round cheeks red and
chapped. “Well, I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Well,
not bad news but strange news or at least news that I can’t
explain.”

“Jackson, are you going to just stand out here and
babble on like some drunken pastor, or are you going to tell
me?”

“The good news is that the herd if fine. No wolf
casualties.” He forced back a smile. “Or mud casualties either. But
the craziest thing happened when I was inspecting the herd in the
easternmost pasture. There are at least a dozen cattle out there
with the Double Horn Ranch’s brand on ‘em.”

“Williamson’s cows? How the hell did they get into
our pastures?”
“I asked them that, but they weren’t willing to confess.”