Wild Within (Wild at Heart #1) (4 page)

“From where I’m sitting, Lone Star, you’re not living up to Southern gentleman standards.” She brushed herself off. “What’s the Texas expression for go jump in a lake?”

“What I think you’re trying to say is that you think I’m about as fine as cream gravy.”

Grace used a rock to pound in her final tent stake and attached its guy-line. “Yes, that’s what I meant.” She tossed a pine cone at his head. “You’re as fine as clean gravy. So is my tent. Not bad for a first try.”

“Not clean gravy. Cream gravy. And it’s a fine tent indeed.”

Once inside her shelter, Grace was too tired to crawl into her sleeping bag. She pulled it over her like a blanket, thought for a second of Lone Star’s blue eyes, and fell asleep before the cover reached her chin.

Cheerful whistling roused her when dawn was still a light orange glow on the horizon. She pushed the tent flap aside and made out Lone Star breaking camp.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, darlin’.”

“You’re leaving? Already?” Sudden anxiety prickled in her.

“Sure am. Today’s supposed to be cooler, they say. Still, it’s good to start early in the desert, no matter what the prediction.”

“Wait.” Grace scrambled out. “I can pack up and go with you. Quick as a caterpillar in heat. Or whatever you’d say.” She wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm in the crisp morning air.

Lone Star’s face shone with affection. “Just Grace, your coming with me is a sweet thought.” He took gentle hold of her shoulders and turned her around. “But you crawl right back in your bag. You’re staying put today.”

Her attention focused on his hands as he gently pushed her toward her tent. Warm, firm, comforting hands. A sudden longing enveloped her. She struggled out of his grip. “I don’t need any more rest. I’m fine.”

“You don’t know how tired you are.”

“I’m okay. Really.” She jumped up and down. “See?”

“No arguing.” He again ushered her to the tent and waited until she was tightly wrapped and zippered inside. His thighs appeared at the entrance as he folded his long body until his head was level with his knees.

“I loved hiking with you yesterday, Just Grace. My heart is saying stay here with you. But I’ve got 2,600 miles to hike before snow lands in Canada. And my law practice isn’t going to be there forever if I don’t get back to it as soon as I can. I’ve just got to skedaddle.”

He cares more about his work than he does about me.

She fought back tears and willed her voice not to crack. “Okay. I understand. You’ve got your…priorities.”

Lone Star reached for her chin but she jerked it away.

He let his hand drop. “Don’t be that way, Just Grace. You’ve got to have a little faith.”

“Faith in what?”

“Faith in us.” He rubbed his hand against her cheek. This time she leaned into it.

“There’s an us?”

“There’s an us now. I’m fixin’ to make sure there’s an us for a good long time.”

Grace’s heart exploded with a warmth that shot through her. She unzipped the bag and flipped over, propping herself up on her elbows.

Lone Star stroked her hair. “You take a day or two of rest. Get going again when you feel strong and secure. Take lots of water, you hear? I think you learned your lesson yesterday, but be careful.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “It’s so dry out there, even the catfish are carrying canteens.”

Grace raised her eyebrows, feeling suddenly playful. “I think I saw some of those yesterday.”

“They’re out there if you look for them.”

“Are you done with the advice?”

“No. When you meet more experienced hikers, listen to what they tell you. You’re still green.”

She wriggled partly out of her bag. “Why don’t you just slow your pace a little? I’ll hike faster, I promise.”

“Whoa, there.” Lone Star held up his hand. “I thought we had that settled. On the trail, your legs and mine aren’t constructed to go the same speed. Listen, Just Grace. There’s something on the trail called magic. Like when a man with water finds a woman with none. But the thing about trail magic is that you can’t hold on to it forever. On the trail, you sometimes have to let go.”

A tear escaped the corner of Grace’s eye.

Lone Star swept it away with his finger. He rubbed his nose, blinked, and pulled the blue bandana from around his neck, using it to wipe his eyes. “Darn dust.”

He held out his hand. Her tiny fingers disappeared in his. His long, unblinking look telegraphed strength, comfort, and something else.

Passion?

“Look for my name in the hiker registers in the towns up the trail. I’ll leave you a note in every one. And, who knows? Maybe down the road a bit, I’ll take a couple of days off, and you’ll catch up with me.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Nothing will keep me from seeing you again.”

He squeezed her hand and rose.

A tiny drum beat a strong, persistent rhythm against the wall of her chest. From her sleeping bag, she watched his hiking shoes disappear from view. Only exhaustion prevented her from jumping up and clutching him to her.

Chapter 5

Lone Star’s stride intermittently quickened then slackened for the first hours after leaving Grace that morning. At points he turned around and retraced his steps for a few yards before turning again and surging forward.

What am I doing leaving her back there alone? She needs me. Heck, I need her.

He swung south toward Lake Morena.

But this ain’t my first rodeo. I know how this goes. Getting back together will be all the sweeter because we’ve been apart for a while.

He reversed direction and headed north again.

His mind ricocheted between two warring impulses such that the scenery, normally an integral part of his awareness, could have changed to skyscrapers, icebergs, or rocket ships. He wouldn’t have noticed.

Why didn’t I meet her back in Texas? Sure, I’m always at work. Could have met her at a trial, though. Grace Mori, public school psychologist, sued for encouraging kids to bother their parents with questions instead of keeping quiet in front of a video game.

Something bumped his arm, jerking his mind back to the desert.

“Excuse me.” A teenage girl with a blonde pixie cut held up her hand in apology. “I tried to get out of your way, but you stepped right into me.”

Lone Star wiped his hand in front of his face, as if trying to clean away cobwebs. “Completely my fault, little missy. My mind was busy as a one-armed paper hanger. Just didn’t see you.”

He turned to face a group of four girls, all wearing maroon ‘
Julian High School Volleyball’
shirts.

Lone Star pointed. “Where’s Julian?”

One girl turned to show him her backpack, embroidered with multiple renditions of pie crusts and fillings. “You’ve never heard of Julian apple pie? You can’t be from California.”

“Do I sound like I’m from California, darlin’?” Lone Star chuckled. “What’s the famous Julian apple pie volleyball team doing out here in the Mojave? Playing catch with armadillos?”

The girls nudged each other. The one who’d spoken first stepped forward a little. “I’m Amber. This is Emily, Brianna, and Taylor. Emily’s captain of the varsity team. It was her idea to come out here.”

Emily shook her head quickly. “
Was
captain.”

“So it’s a graduation trip for you gals?”

“Sort of.” Emily glanced at her teammates. “My girl scout troop did a day-hike on the PCT a few years ago. It was awesome. I always wanted to come back, but my parents never thought it was a good idea.”

“She talked it up
a lot
.” Amber widened her eyes and spread her hands far apart.

Lone Star nodded. “Does it live up to expectations?”

All four girls chimed in at once. Lone Star made out “awesome,” “sweet,” “seriously scary,” and “best three days of my life.”

Amber looked up at him. “Why are
you
out here?”

“I’m a thru.”

Open mouths greeted his announcement. Lone Star suppressed a chuckle with a well-timed cough.

“A thru.” The complete silence of her friends accentuated Amber’s whisper. “Awesome. We were saying this whole time we wanted to meet one.”

“Now don’t go making my head swell. I haven’t reached Canada yet.”

“But you’re going to try.” The amazement in Brianna’s voice brought a light blush to Lone Star’s cheeks.

“Talk to me in a few months,
bonita chica
.”

In unison, the girls flung off their backpacks and scrabbled inside. One by one they held up their cell phones.

“You want my…” Lone Star paused.

“Facebook page.”

“Instagram username.”

“Twitter handle.”

“Pinterest account.”

As the words tumbled out of their mouths, Lone Star wrinkled his mouth and squinted with one eye. “I hate disappointing you all. Work email’s the best I can do. And I won’t be checking that for months.”

The girls’ faces fell.

“That’s okay.” Amber punched her phone a few times and handed it to him. “Put your contact information in here.”

Lone Star took the phone with both hands and typed slowly, hitting the delete key almost as often as he hit the letters.

Amber glanced at what he’d written before her fingers flew over the display. “Mr. Hogan, from El Paso. I’ll put a note in my calendar to email you in August, okay?”

“That’ll inspire me.”

Amber glanced again at her phone. “Our parents are going to meet us at Lake Morena in a few hours. We’ve got to get going, Mr. Hogan. It was awesome meeting you.” She held out her hand and shook Lone Star’s with enthusiasm.

“Wait. Group photo.”

After Brianna squeezed them all together for a selfie, the girls jogged down the trail, turning back periodically to wave at Lone Star.

When they had shrunk to images the size of his hand, he turned back to the trail and marched forward with firm steps. “Well, now, wasn’t that all sweetness and light? Nothing like a little youthful enthusiasm to put the spring back in my step.”

That evening, an unfamiliar sound brought him out of his tent a final time into the chilly semi-darkness of a full moon. He shone his headlamp around the perimeter of his campsite, looking and listening.

Someone’s running.

An outline of a short, thin figure approached. Lone Star cupped his hands. “Grace? Just Grace, darlin’, is that you? Don’t run. I’m here.”

A gravelly falsetto answered back. “Not Grace, sweetie.”

Lone Star switched off his headlamp to let his eyes adjust. The man halted next to him, breathing deeply.

“Sorry to disappoint. Seems like you were expecting someone else.”

Lone Star held the back of his neck with his hand. “Now that’s embarrassing.”

The runner’s teeth flashed white in the dark as his face split into a grin. “Not at all. First time I’ve been mistaken for a woman. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Not everyone would.” Lone Star clasped his hands in front of him. “Name’s Lone Star. Where you headed?”

“Shadow. Going to Canada.”

Lone Star whistled. “Whoo-wee. Look what the cat dragged in. Read about you on the listserv. Go so fast that all people see is your shadow. I count myself real lucky.”

Shadow put his hands on his hips and marched in place. “Somebody gave me the name and it stuck. Not sure that’s why, though.”

“Modesty. Like that in a man.”

“Just hiking my own hike. We’ve all got our reasons for being out here. I got tired of ultra marathons. The PCT seemed like a logical next step.”

Lone Star shoved his hands into the pockets of his down vest. “Is this your first thru-hike?”

“No. I did it last year. This year I’m going for the record.”

“Thought I remembered that.” Lone Star stepped off the trail. “I don’t want to hold you up.”

Shadow switched to stretching, standing first on one leg, then the other. “No worries, man. I got time. Don’t get to talk to a lot of people. Why are you out here?”

Lone Star cocked his head to the side and looked at the dark rim of distant mountains. “I’m thirty-five and felt kind of burned out at work. Spending most days sitting at a desk looking out my window isn’t what I imagined when I picked a law career.”

“Thought it would involve more work in the woods?” The moonlight highlighted Shadow’s teeth, exposed in a wide smile.

“Thought I’d have more free time, I guess.” Lone Star shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I always loved hiking. When I was a kid, my whole family would go on overnights. In the summers, we’d even go for a week. Those were some of the best times of my life. Being with family and being outdoors.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. My family still goes on the trips. Only the last two times they went, I couldn’t. Had too much work.”

Shadow groaned. “That sucks, man.”

Lone Star picked up a rock and threw it into the distance. “It set my priorities straight. Told my boss she could either give me five months unpaid leave or find herself a new lead attorney.”

“Did she cave?”

“Mostly. She gave me four months. So now I’m hiking against the clock. But at least I’m out here.”

Shadow returned to marching in place. “Hiking against the clock’s not so bad.”

“Got any tips?”

“Go ultralight. My base weight’s eight pounds.” He looked at Lone Star’s camp site. “No tent or sleeping bag. Only a tarp and quilt.”

The nylon of his shelter fluttered as Lone Star kicked at a guy-line. “I’ve come a long way already, believe it or not. My family used to take a huge Army surplus monstrosity. Had to carry it one year. Nearly broke my back.”

“Tents aren’t all bad. Maybe you’re planning on having company in there from time to time.”

“The only one I’d want for company I left back at Lake Morena.”

“Let me guess. Grace?”

“Just Grace.” The bracing night air carried the scent of nearby sage brush, reminding Lone Star of where he’d met her. “Ever feel like you’re making a mistake?”

“Often. But never on the trail.”

The two men both looked at the dirt. Shadow began jogging in place. “Afraid I’ve got to get going. The night air chills me if I don’t keep moving.”

“How many miles till you make camp?”

“Don’t know yet. The trail tells me when to stop.”

Lone Star reached out his hand and shook Shadow’s. “Good lesson for us all. Been a pleasure talking with you, Shadow.” The dark shape disappeared into the desert night long before the reverberating
thud, thud
of his footsteps died out. Lone Star stood and stared after him until the cold drove him back inside.

Good night, Just Grace. This trail will bring us together again. You can count on it.