Read Wild Within (Wild at Heart #1) Online
Authors: Christine Hartmann
When Grace finished the story, Lone Star stepped softly to her side.
“Hey, Just Grace. Let’s stop here for a sec.” He lifted her chin and tried to catch her evasive eyes. “That story breaks my heart. I’ve got four brothers and two sisters. If anything happened to them, I think I’d open myself up a worm farm.”
Grace lifted her gaze. “A what?”
“A cemetery. I mean, I assume…” Lone Star scuffed a deep line in the dirt with the toe of his shoe.
“He died.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his heel across the trench, erasing it. “That’s what I’d feel like doing if anything happened to someone in my family.”
“I know.” Grace walked slowly on. “You’re right. You do. I mean, I think part of me did die with him. At least, life hasn’t seemed the same since.”
Lone Star strode in front and blocked the path. Grace focused on his sparkling blue eyes. They shone with the sunlight and something else, something both soothing and energizing. Eventually, she turned away and sighed. “It’s just not the easiest to talk about. Today of all days.”
“You mean…”
“It happened a year ago.”
“Today?”
“Today.”
“Miss Grace Mori.” Lone Star wrapped her hands in his. “I’m truly sorry.”
Two tears ran down Grace’s dusty cheeks, leaving shimmering tracks. Lone Star lowered her pack and pulled her to him. She leaned her head against his chest and wept. Large hands stroked her erratically heaving back. Her arms extended slack at her side and then, after a while, reached up and pulled him to her. She buried her face deeper into his shoulder.
No one has held me like this since it happened.
When her tears diminished, Lone Star pushed her gently from him. “I know you must feel lower than a gopher hole right about now. But I’m worried about your expelling all that salt. We’ve still got a ways to go.”
Grace wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I need a salt lick, like they put out for deer.”
Lone Star’s eyes twinkled. “Good idea. Have some more water for now. Then we’ll set about finding you one.”
Grace’s mouth stretched into a brief grin. Lone Star handed her the big water bottle. She gulped, burped, and turned bright red.
“Excuse me.” She handed the bottle back to him.
“Do you feel a little better?”
“Yes. I think that cry had been building up for a year. Sorry you got caught in the flood.”
Lone Star wiped the large water mark on his shirt with exaggerated swipes of his bandana. “Not to worry. It’s quick-dry.”
He watched Grace stride ahead and wiped his forehead with his bandana. “That’s one heck of a woman.” He marched after her. “I think it’s my turn to tell a story, Just Grace. What do you want to know about me?”
She answered without turning around. “Something less dramatic than what I just told you. Let’s start with what you do.”
“You mean when I’m not rescuing ladies in distress?”
“What’s your day job?”
“I’m an education attorney. We represent private and public educational institutions, but I work mostly with school districts.”
“That seems like a niche market for an attorney.”
Lone Star readjusted Grace’s pack on his chest. “Coming up, my one goal was to be a lawyer. Don’t ask me why. I must have seen a lawyer do something great on TV once. I used to watch a lot of TV. But then I found out you need money to go to law school. My family didn’t exactly ride high on the hog. So I figured I would never go.”
Grace turned to look at him. “But you’re a lawyer now. What happened?”
“A dust storm.”
“Huh?”
“I’m from El Paso. West Texas. We have a lot of dust storms. Ever seen one?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s like a tsunami of dust rising all the way to the sky. Like a flowing wall that goes from the clouds clear down to the ground.” Lone Star’s hands waved across the horizon. “When it sweeps through, you can have outages, property damage, crop damage, a long list of trouble. When I was in eighth grade, we had a fierce one, so fierce it took down all the power lines. Didn’t get power back for a week. That’s what saved me.”
Grace shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“No power. No TV. And the only books in the house were my textbooks. So I picked them up for the first time since the beginning of the school year. Wouldn’t you know, there was a section on law in the first one I read.
American Civilization Then and Now
the book was called. I’ll never forget that. I read the Declaration of Independence and parts of the Constitution. I was hooked. I didn’t care that we didn’t have the money for school. I thought, where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Goose bumps covered Grace’s arms. “That’s quite a story, Lone Star. You turned your life around on a dime.”
“I have to tell you, I’m happy as a hog in mud I was born in West Texas. If I’d been born in your San Francisco, we’d never have lost power, and I’d probably be cleaning toilets at Whataburger.”
Grace’s head still sizzled like an egg in a desert frying pan, but she sweated less. Both her step and her heart felt lighter. “I don’t know. I beginning to think you’re the kind of guy who can do practically anything.”
“My mom’s the one you should admire. Pop too. He’s one of the best ranch hands I’ve ever known. But Mom.” Lone Star whistled in appreciation. “She can do anything she sets her mind to.”
“Like what?”
“Like kill a rattlesnake at twenty paces.”
“You’re kidding me. That’s way too Wild West.”
“I’m not kidding. Being handy with a gun’s a necessity where I grew up.”
“Being handy with a gun lands you in prison where I grew up.”
“How about sewing on a finger?”
“Your mom did that?”
“Sewed on Uncle Coke’s finger when his hand got caught in the razor wire fence.” Lone Star held up his hand. “Can’t show you which one without being rude though.”
“Did it work?”
“Long enough to get him to the nearest hospital, two hours away.”
“Two hours? You’d drive past fifty hospitals if you drove for two hours from my house.”
“Guess it’s better to be sick in San Francisco, then. But I still wouldn’t trade in El Paso.”
“Why not?”
“My family’s all there, for one. And it’s the kind of country that gets under your skin. A stranger might think it’s boring, but to me that landscape’s as pretty as a pie supper.”
Every half hour as they walked on, Lone Star called for her to stop. He handed her the water bottle, and she took a long drink.
“How about you?”
“Don’t you worry none about me. In El Paso we like it hot and dry. Anyway, I have another bottle. I drink as we walk along. Saves time.”
Near dusk, they reached Lake Morena County Park and descended to the campground. At the park sign, Grace’s foot caught on a rock. She stumbled. Lone Star grabbed her waist and propped her up. Grace felt an unexpected jolt of adrenaline at his touch.
“Almost there. You okay to walk?”
Grace rubbed her forehead and nodded. “Sorry. I’m okay. I’m just excited to see civilization again.”
“Understandable. You’ve been through a lot for one day. Let’s get you to some shade and a long, cold shower.”
Grace glanced up at the mention of the shower but saw nothing in Lone Star’s face to indicate any indelicacy.
An elderly couple soon spotted the short, exhausted Asian woman shuffling alongside the tall, buff redhead with what looked like a baby carrier on his chest. They hurried over.
“We were on the lookout for hikers in need of some help.” The woman took Grace’s pack while the man carried Lone Star’s. “You never know what the desert will cough up this time of year. You two look like you’re in serious need of the joys of electricity. Ice and AC. I don’t understand why anyone comes to the desert without it.”
She invited them to a sizable RV. “We come here during the PCT thru-hiking season to help out. We used to be big hikers ourselves. But one thing and another. You know how it goes.”
Inside, a long-haired Chihuahua pranced at the woman’s feet, yipping and begging to be picked up. She scooped him into her arms and patted his head.
“Fritzy here is an indoor kind of guy. He has no idea what his mom and pop used to get up to.”
She turned the air conditioning to high, filled a floral print pitcher with ice and water, and placed two large plastic cups in front of Grace and Lone Star. Lone Star drained cup after cup without speaking. Grace watched.
I could have died out there if he hadn’t found me
.
I was so unprepared. So stupid. What am I going to do if he doesn’t stick with me tomorrow?
She refilled her cup from the pitcher as Lone Star finished his sixth glass.
“Sorry, ma’am. ” He wiped his mouth with his bandana. “I was feeling a bit parched.”
The couple lived outside Palm Springs. Lone Star chatted with them about desert life, his family’s El Paso farm, and what he’d seen on the trail. Grace relaxed in the coolness. Her mind drifted.
Kenji would never have ended up in this mess. He would have packed more water. He would have studied the risks. I’m a threat to myself, for goodness sake.
Lone Star was absorbed in a story of a rattlesnake, a pistol, and a bottle of Pepto Bismol. His freckled arms circled and waved as he drew his audience in. Grace leaned back and studied him.
Such masculine hands. Not an ounce of fat. Just muscle. A bear would think twice before attacking that body.
Lone Star paused and rocked in his chair.
“Well?” The woman leaned forward. “Don’t leave us hanging.”
Maybe hiking’s not the kind of thing an unfit person like me should do alone. Maybe you need a partner. I could have done this before breaking up with Ben. But that would never have worked. Ben was way too competitive. He’d have said, “I’ll see how much farther I can get than you today,” and that would have been the last I saw of him until Canada. No Ben is good. But no one in my life isn’t.
“Pink crud dripped all over him.”
Grace reached for her water glass as Lone Star gestured for effect. Her arm collided with his. Water spilled across the vinyl tablecloth and her shirt.
“Aw, Just Grace, I’m so sorry.” Lone Star handed her a napkin. “I should watch where these big hands of mine are flying.”
Grace flushed and rubbed the blotch. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got great hands. I need a shower anyway. I probably smell like the elephant exhibit at the zoo.”
Lone Star laughed. “Darlin’, you smell as sweet as a daisy. Wait until you’ve been out on the trail for two weeks without so much as a rinse. Even the mosquitos won’t come near you.”
“I hope you still would.”
“You betcha. Nothing would keep me from your side.”
Lone Star gave her hand a squeeze. A warm tingle surged up her arm.
Maybe it’s not just me who’s thinking about us.
Outside, the evening breeze felt fresh and new. Grace beamed at the emerging stars.
Maybe he’ll stick with me after all.
Their gear lay under the motor home’s blue and grey awning. She picked up one of Lone Star’s shoes and peeked inside.
“Size fourteen. Wow.”
She glanced at his pack. Its compression straps held her empty three-liter water bottle. On a hunch, she squatted, slid open the pack’s draw cords, and felt around inside, recognizing items by touch: sleeping bag…tent stakes…headlamp…cook pot…hard candy in a plastic baggie…socks…toilet paper and trowel…harmonica?
In the depths, her hands encountered another plastic container, squashed to take up less space. She pulled it out. A second three-liter bottle. Empty.
Her heart beat quickly as her eyes registered shock.
The other bottle he said he was drinking from was empty the whole time. He never had any water out there. Just let me use up his entire supply.
She sat cross-legged on the dirt by the camper and stared at the bottle.
So, basically, when I’m on the trail, I’m not only a threat to myself, I’m a threat to others.
She rose and walked to the showers, shaking her head.
Later, after sharing a hearty dinner with the RV couple, Lone Star and Grace pitched their tents in adjacent campsites. For Grace, tent poles went into wrong grommets, stakes came loose, and clips misaligned. Lone Star set his up in a flash and sat in the entrance, watching her struggle.
“I wouldn’t mind a little help here, if you’ve got the time.”
“I’ve got the time. But you have to learn this for yourself, darlin’. Soon it’ll be as easy as pie. But not if I do it for you. Besides, I enjoy watching you. You clean up real nice.”
“Thanks.” Grace curtsied. Her foot caught in a tent line and she fell. Lone Star chuckled so long he had to hold his sides.