Gnome On The Range (14 page)

I didn’t mind if
Ty
wanted to eat me.
He can eat me all he wants. Oh God! Did I just think that? That meant I’d feel his stubble on my thighs, his face buried…No! Stop! Don’t think about him nibbling there!

“You never know who you’ll be attracted to,” he repeated, eyes now on my breasts. My nipples hardened involuntarily.

The man was ridiculously attracted to my breasts. I was attracted to his attraction to my breasts. The man wanted
me
. Me!

Yes!

Kiss him!

No! No. Be strong. Make him suffer. Only then would he come back.

Goldie didn’t mention how much I would suffer, too. I might take her up on the offer for the top-of-the-line dildo to ease my need. And boy, did I need!

I gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder instead of yanking him into my arms and kissing him. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. What kind of crazy woman turned down a guy who wanted her? Especially when you wanted him right back. I could be in bed with him, hell, pressed up against some hidden wall at the fairgrounds with my legs wrapped around his waist in minutes. But noooo, I had to do the right thing, the stupid thing—push him away. “I’m…I’m glad you’re my neighbor. I’ll definitely knock on your door if my snow blower breaks.”

I walked off, headed to the ladies room. I swear I could feel Ty’s eyes boring into my back. I looked forward, focused on the women’s restroom, a gray squat building. I whispered to myself, “Do not turn around. Do not turn around.” I missed the smashed up derby car barreling down on me until the last moment. I turned and saw one broken headlight and cracked grill. For a split second I felt like a deer ready to be run over, literally, before arms pushed me out of the way. I fell to the ground with a thunk, felt a heavy weight land on top of me—not heavy enough to be a car—before the world went black.

***

I came to with Ty’s face looming over me. Not a bad image when returning to consciousness. But the concern I saw there was something I wouldn’t soon forget. He was so close I could feel his warm breath on my skin. I noticed the scent of peppermint.

I blinked.

“Jesus,” Ty whispered before closing his eyes briefly.

I started processing other things besides Ty. I saw the small crowd that had formed around us, heard the engine noise from the derby, smelled sausage and peppers from the fair’s midway. “I remember a derby car trying to run me over.”

Ty nodded his head. “I remember that, too.” His voice was grim and angry.

I sat up.

“Don’t. Just lie there until the paramedics come.”

“I’m fine. No little birdies flying around my head.” I carefully stood up but Ty kept a firm grip on my arm. I brushed dirt off my jeans hoping to hide my wobbly knees. “I don’t need—or want—the paramedics. Besides, aren’t you one?” At Ty’s nod I added, “You know I’m fine.”

Ty contemplated my words for a moment as he looked me over. Not the same heated look as only a minute before, but now in a clinical, assessing way. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two,” I grumbled. “Four. Stop switching it!”

Ty rolled his eyes. “Show’s over, folks,” he told the few still concerned. Once we were alone again, Ty pulled me tightly into his arms.

“I can’t breathe,” I gasped.

“Sorry.” Ty loosened his arms but still held me close.

“Mmm, you feel good.” His body heat seeped into me through his rock hard, muscled chest. He smelled like…Ty. Rugged male, soap and something else I was learning was just his own scent. I heard his heartbeat beneath my ear and it raced like a thoroughbred. Clearly he wasn’t as calm as he appeared.

“Was that a crazy driver or was he trying to run me over?” I asked.

Ty gave me a quick squeeze then loosened his hold, although he kept his hands on my upper arms. Either he didn’t want to let me go, which was a very romantic thought, but more likely he wanted to make sure I didn’t fall over on my face. “It looked to me like the bastard was trying to run you over.”

I was dumbfounded. “Wh…why?”

“I have no idea, but a crazy driver would have at least stopped and said they’re sorry. You have to admit a lot of weird things have been happening. Even for you.”

I snorted. Not very ladylike, but neither was the topic. “I told you these…weird things are not usual. Something is going on and it all started with those stupid gnomes.”

Ty’s eyebrows went up. “You think all of this is tied into the sperm, the gnomes and Morty?”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it? I think something’s happened to Morty. No one’s heard from him. He was desperate for that gnome. If someone hurt Morty because of the gnome, it’s not hard to follow they might come after me.” 

Ty thought for a moment. “It actually makes sense. We should check and see if that derby car was stolen.”

“Great. So you’re saying someone’s trying to kill me? With a derby car?”

“Not anymore. That didn’t work.”

“Neither did the explosion.”

Ty clenched his jaw. “Christ, neither did the explosion. This is nothing to feel proud about!”

“I’m not proud,” I muttered. “Relieved I’m not flattened.”

Ty kissed the top of my head. “The gnome’s glued back together, the vial is in the trash, Morty’s gone. The question is: Why the hell does someone want you dead?” His voice was frustration, anger and worry rolled into one.

I pulled back and looked him in the eye. His face showed the same mixed emotions. Obviously he wasn’t sure if he should hold me or push me away.

Someone wanted me dead.
Someone wanted me dead
. Who? Why? What was so bad that someone hated me so much? “I…I have no idea.” My voice was shaky. “I lead a boring life.”

Ty laughed humorously. “Boring? You’re the least boring person I’ve ever met. I’ve known you less than a week. You had a person roam around your yard, a missing man on your doorstep, an explosion, a convenience store robbery, and now almost run over by a derby car in that small window of time. Is there anything I’ve missed?” He raised an eyebrow, daring me to add something else.

No chance I’d tell him now about visiting Dex at his ranch. It had been a dead end in finding Morty, hopefully no pun intended. He hadn’t been there shoveling poop like I’d wanted. He hadn’t lifted a pitchfork all week.

Dex didn’t want me dead, he wanted me in his bed. And that wasn’t something I was going to share with Ty.

I hoped my face didn’t give my thoughts away. I tried to look all innocent and clueless like Zach and Bobby when they broke something special.

“Nope.” I heard applause from the crowd and saw people filing out of the arena.

“The derby must be over.” Ty finally released my arms. I brushed the dust off my jeans. “Let’s not tell Goldie or anyone else about this little incident. I don’t want to scare them. Especially the boys. Besides, we don’t know for sure someone wants me,” I gulped, “dead.” It was hard to get the words out.
Someone wanted me dead
.

“The only way we’ll know for sure is if you’re actually dead,” Ty grumbled, angry. “Which I don’t want to verify. But I agree. We won’t tell your family, but I’m going to talk to some cops I know and look into all this. Morty, the explosion, the goddamn derby car. We can’t do nothing and wait for someone to try again.” He took my hands in his, rubbed his thumbs over my palms. I felt the caress all the way to my hooha. “But you have to lay low. Promise me you won’t take any unnecessary risks.” He brought my knuckles up to his mouth and kissed one hand, then the other. “Don’t do anything crazy.”

Just his lips on my knuckles gave me a zing. Like mini lightning. If Ty only knew how much I felt like a wanton hussy by a simple brush of his lips, he’d probably toss me over his shoulder like a caveman and haul me back to his man cave and do stuff to me so I couldn’t walk right for a week.

Oh, boy. Please!

Focus. I lifted my chin defiantly but was content keeping my hands in his.  “I never do
anything
crazy. That’s my problem!”

Right then my sexual control snapped. That last zing had done it. I kissed him. Right there with the crowd parting around us. A quick, hard kiss. Not too quick, as I was able to tangle tongues with him before I pulled back. “There. That was crazy.”

So much for making him suffer, waiting for him to come to me. Let’s face it, I sucked at it. But I’d almost been run over by a demolition derby car. Probably not many women trying to make a man suffer were almost run over during the suffering process. The rules changed when my life flashed before my eyes. I realized I hadn’t kissed enough yet. Life was short and I needed to squeeze in all the extra kissing I could. Besides, Ty pushed me out of the way and saved my life. He deserved a kiss for that. A mulligan. That’s what it was. A mulligan kiss.

Ty had a deranged look on his face. Half lust, half insanity. “Promise me,” he repeated before pulling me back into his arms for more.

I had no doubts if we weren’t standing out in public at a county fair I would have had my panties around my ankles within five seconds. Fortunately, we both had a smidge of self control—and a desire to avoid being arrested.

“I’m going camping tomorrow,” I said, breathlessly. “What can happen in the woods?”

Chapter Ten

After two nights of roughing it up Hyalite with two RVs, the Colonel’s eighteen foot long monstrosity and my more modest pop-up, I’d had enough of wilderness fun. Sure, there were real beds with sheets, air conditioning and heat, a kitchen, pots and pans, a fridge and all the other accoutrements that went along with fancy RV living. But I longed for a real shower. The closest thing to that had been walking under the mist at PalisadeFalls the day before.

My curly hair never looked great after a night of sleeping on it. Usually, it resembled a bird’s nest when I woke up. I didn’t dare look in the mirror now. I could only imagine what it looked like after two days outside in the wind.

I reached my camping limit and was desperate for a break from my children. I loved my kids, but I needed a time out. A time out from boys who fell into icy streams. A time out on gutting fish. Bug spray. Sunscreen. Dust. If that wasn’t enough, I smelled like a cooked ham from all the campfire smoke.

Hyalite area is Bozeman’s backyard playground. Only fifteen miles south of town, it’s a quick trip up the canyon to the reservoir and extensive trails. You could hike, fish, kayak, mountain bike and in the winter, ice climb. It’s one of the prettiest spots in Montana. Rugged mountains curved around the reservoir that reflected their snow capped peaks. Aspen trees dotted the water’s edge and meadows. In the fall, their leaves were bright yellow. At night, it was so dark the Milky Way spanned the sky.

Our traditional camping spot was on the east side, right on the banks of the reservoir with views to the south of HyaliteMountain. I loved the outdoors and I loved the quiet, but I loved my bed, too.

Goldie and Paul had joined us the day before, towing their own home on wheels. They’d come late since Goldie had to work Friday night at the store. Paul had rolled out early this morning because he was on call and needed to be near the hospital.

Goldie stayed behind, getting a ride back to town with me and the boys. For a woman who was high maintenance and a serious primper, Goldie loved to fish. In fact, she put everyone around her to shame. Sure, she wore designer jeans and the least wilderness-worthy shoes a woman could find to camp in, but once she slipped on a pair of waders and picked up a rod, she was a different woman. Fly fishing was her favorite. She said it calmed her, just like golf did for my mom. She easily picked up the plastic Mickey Mouse rod of Bobby’s and hooked a worm for him.

Goldie and her grandsons were up at the crack of dawn and spent the morning fishing in the reservoir in front of our campsite hoping to pull out a whopper or two. I wasn’t quite as worm friendly, so I left the three to their fishing fun while I packed up.

Even after two days, my body was sore from the full body slam I took at the fair. Ty had felt like a ton of bricks when he’d landed on me and my muscles still complained about it. Anything was better than being run over by a car, so I was grateful for my aches and pains. My mind had spent the weekend processing the fact that someone was trying to kill me. I tossed and turned reliving the terrifying moments. I woke up in a cold sweat dreaming about the car’s broken grill. Someone hated me enough to want me dead. But why? My brain spun its proverbial wheels in the mud trying to answer that question.

“The only thing I caught this morning was a four foot wiggle-fish,” Goldie said, laughing. They’d returned from their fish catching mission. Next to her stood a grinning, wet four year-old who had clearly fallen into the reservoir. His shorts and T-shirt clung to his skin and his dark hair stood up in wet spikes.

I’d put all cooking gear back in plastic bins and had been rolling up the last sleeping bag.

“Ah, so do we get to gut him and eat him?” I asked as I hugged and tickled Bobby, all the while he shrieked with laughter. I felt my front get cold and damp from Bobby’s clothes. Oh well, at least he didn’t smell like dead fish. A shower was only a few hours away.

“It will go well with the Jell-O mold I plan on making for dessert tonight,” the Colonel added, joining us in front of my camper. “Lemon and whipped cream.” He wore his usual tan shorts and white collared shirt. Somehow his clothes were pressed and starched. How he looked immaculate after two days I’d never know. He didn’t have a speck of dirt on him. I, however, probably looked like I wrestled a baby black bear.

“Man, we didn’t catch anything,” Zach grumbled. His hair was tousled, his cheeks a rosy hue of exertion and exercise.

“Good thing we’ve got carrots and celery for snacks then,” the Colonel replied, half joking.

Zach and Bobby both grumbled some more, debating what was worse, the lack of fish or the lack of junk food for lunch.

“It’s hard to catch fish when you yak all the time and someone falls in,” Goldie commented. “We’ll have to stop and try a spot on the creek as we head home. Maybe those fish won’t recognize us.” She wore gray neoprene waders which came up waist high, held up with a pair of black suspenders. You could wade into water up to your belly button in them and stay dry. With the water around Bozeman all fed by melting snow, it was never warm fishing around here.