Lover of My Dreams (13 page)

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he spoke harshly, breaking the silence and the spell that Rachel had found herself in. “No one here is going to take care of you.”

Rachel blinked in surprise and shook her head slowly in disgust. “Listen buster,” she shot back at him tiredly, anger lacing her voice. “I can take care of myself just fine, thank you very much. If you care to find out just how well I can take care of myself then by all means please take another step forward.” She challenged him calmly, her eyes flashing hotly, ready for a fight. She lifted the mallet just slightly and squared off to face him.

The limited light from her lantern allowed him to see only a part of her face but there was no mistaking the anger that was flashing in her eyes. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. This late night camper might prove to be a very interesting addition to the campground after all. He stood in silence for a moment. His eyes raked her over from top to bottom and back again. His jaw was set and his mouth was drawn into a tight, cynical smile.

“I think it’s a little late to be doing any fighting,” he said finally. “Get yourself settled and I’ll look in on you in the morning.”

“Don’t bother,” Rachel flashed back at him angrily. “Save it for someone who needs babysitting.”

He chuckled slightly as he turned away from her. “We’ll see,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away from her.

Rachel clutched the mallet tighter in anger. His arrogance annoyed her. His attitude enraged her. The last thing she needed was to be treated like a child by Sam McCoy.

“We’ll see, indeed!” she muttered angrily, turning to walk quickly toward the bathrooms. “Arrogant shit!”

She used the facilities quickly, hating the pit toilets but knowing she had to deal with the archaic things. The walk back to her tent didn’t help to calm her down, and she found herself swearing under her breath as she zipped the tent closed behind her. She placed the lantern on the chest cooler and tugged off her coat as she walked to the back of the tent. Kneeling down next to her cot, she opened her suitcase and pulled out a pair of black sweatpants, some sweat socks and a navy sweatshirt that had a thermal hood. It was comfortable, warm, and huge on her—but she loved it.

She pulled off her shirt, bra, jeans, and socks, glad that she was too fired up to feel the coldness of the night air. She had to admit that she was stunned to see Sam. She was also surprised by the way he spoke. He had changed. He had become arrogant. And obnoxious. As she pulled on her thermal socks and then her sweatpants, her mind replayed the scene.

She didn’t care if it
was
Sam McCoy. She was through playing the meek and defensive mouse who apologized for living. She had given up her friendship with Sam and her time with her family because of Sam’s father. She had learned the hard way what kindness got her. She would not let it happen again.

“I can’t believe that guy!” she muttered as she pulled the sweatshirt over her head and smoothed it down over her thighs. Pulling her long hair free of its elastic, she reached for the brush that sat in her open suitcase and began to brush her hair vigorously. After a moment, she pulled the hood up to protect her head from the coldness of the mountain air at night. She threw the brush into the suitcase and rubbed her eyes tiredly. She had to get some sleep. She knew that she would feel better once she was rested.

She retrieved the lantern, set it beside her cot and climbed between the layers of her sleeping bag and blankets. She punched the pillow a few times and turned it over once in an effort to get comfortable.

“Come to Colorado, Rachel,” she muttered angrily, mimicking her cousin Roy. “Stay at Parry Peak Campground near Twin Lakes.” She repeated the words that she now realized were a calculated attempt at putting her in the direct path of Sam McCoy. She was going to kill Roy when she saw him.

Finally, she turned onto her right side and rubbed her left temple gingerly, wincing slightly at the tenderness in her left cheek. She leaned forward and slowly extinguished the light then lay back and tried to breathe slowly and evenly in an attempt to soothe herself.

“God, you have to give me a break here,” she muttered angrily.

She punched her pillow once more then closed her eyes determinedly and concentrated on the noises of the night. The darkness in the tent surrounded her with a sense of quiet. Before long, she could feel herself beginning to calm down.

Nature’s night sounds enveloped her, and she could feel the peacefulness soothing her nerves. It was as if the mountains were singing to her and calming her heart. She knew that this was where her healing would take place and her creativity would blossom. The mountains would revive her, and no one was going to ruin it for her.

“No more complications in my life. No more men,” she whispered to herself calmly, sure of her quiet vow as she drifted off into an exhausted sleep. She had made enough decisions during the past seven days to last her a lifetime, and she was determined to keep them all—especially the last one.

* * * *

Sam McCoy continued his late-night walk around the campground. All the sites were quiet and no campfires were smoldering. He zipped his vest higher and pulled the brow of his hat lower over his face, trying to protect himself from the bitter coldness of the night. He circled around the inner section of the campground and headed toward his site, glad when he passed the wooden sign that identified his spot as the one designated for the campground host.

It had been a long time since a woman had lost her temper with him. More than ten years. He had enjoyed it.

The women who were members of the social circle that he found himself a part of back in Denver were reserved and aloof, very rarely showing emotions. Not like this woman at all. He smiled as he remembered the fire that flashed in her brown eyes and the words she spoke with such genuine anger. It was refreshing to find a woman with a backbone.

He walked back to his camper, opened the door and stepped up inside, securely locking the door behind him. Taking off his vest, he threw it onto the bed that extended to the left of the camper then removed his boots, shirt, and jeans. He reached forward to retrieve his gray sweatpants and sweatshirt from the bed. He pulled them on quickly, the coolness of the night air making him shiver slightly. Turning, he reached for the lantern on the table to turn it down then climbed up onto the bed on the right side of the camper. He settled under the many blankets, leaned back against the pillows, and rested his hands beneath his head as he looked out the mesh window that faced the campsites. His eyes followed the distant lantern light that moved across the campground and disappeared into the tent at the farthest campsite. He knew it had to be her. He watched until the light went out. His mind began to drift, and he found himself thinking and analyzing his life yet again.

He closed his eyes and sighed tiredly. He rubbed his forehead to ease the ache that was beginning. He knew it came from his inability to stop thinking about the events of the last few years and his relationship with Allison.

Allison had been the one woman that he had chosen to share his life and dreams with. They had made plans together for their future. They had planned a life that they would have and the children that they would create. They had been engaged for only six months when he had realized that she didn’t really want those things. Saying that she did was only a means to an end. He knew now that she dreamed of a life as the wife of a prominent doctor at Denver Memorial Hospital who was the son of one of Denver’s wealthiest citizens. She had wanted a home the size of his father’s to impress the rest of society. She had wanted to attend the society functions that made him sick at the waste of money that served to encourage the decadence of the elite social class.

What Allison didn’t want was Sam as he really wanted to live his life. She didn’t want to have the children that Sam ached to hold and help grow. She didn’t want anything that was even remotely what Sam hoped that his future would hold.

He had called off the engagement despite Allison’s protests. Sam already knew that it was the best thing for the both of them. He would not have been happy in Denver no matter how well he did at the hospital, and Allison would never have been happy here in the mountains.

When he had spoken to her about leaving the hospital and setting up a practice in the mountain towns, her cool reserve had disappeared and her delicately beautiful face had contorted in anger, demanding that he not be selfish. When she had used the argument that his father would not stand for it, Sam had stopped trying to explain what he was feeling or what he wanted for their future. It didn’t matter. His father had interfered in his life for the last time.

He turned onto his left side and tried to take his mind off the events that had led to his decision to stay at the campground for the summer. He had contacted Roy for help, and they had come up with the plan to find a peaceful haven for him while he thought things through.

Allison’s blue eyes invaded his thoughts. He kept seeing the way she walked and the way she talked. He remembered the way she touched him, kissed him, and made love with him. He wondered now just how much of her actions were a calculated plan to set her place in society and a part of the McCoy fortune, and how much of it was genuine. It didn’t really matter now. He needed to put those memories behind him. He needed to rest, and he especially needed to move on with his life.

He had already made the decision that he would join a medical practice in the mountains once the summer was through. By then he would be well rested and ready to begin his life without Allison, and far away from his father and his father’s influence. It really was all for the best. He just wished the disappointment and sadness would go away. He knew that his sadness was not because of Allison. He was sad that there was no special woman in his life. He was completely honest with himself when he admitted that Allison was certainly not the woman he would ever want to have a future with. He was disappointed because he knew that there was very little chance that he would ever find a kind woman who was loving and gentle, who wanted a family, and who valued a simple life.

He lay there quietly for a few minutes when haunting brown eyes invaded his thoughts. Soft brown eyes that flashed with specks of fire when angry were vivid in his mind. He found himself smiling at the memory, trying to understand their strange familiarity. For the first time in months, memories of Allison did not keep him awake. Instead, his thoughts were of the young woman who had threatened to pummel him with her rubber mallet.

He smiled as he settled deeper under the warmth of the covers and found that his body was beginning to relax. He hoped that he would finally be able to get a decent night’s sleep.

“This might be an enjoyable and interesting summer after all,” he whispered out loud before he yawned widely and closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he fell asleep with hope in his heart and a smile on his face.

Sam stood silently in the kitchen area of his camper, gazing out the mesh window into the stillness of the campground. He liked the quiet of the early morning hours. How different life was here. Not at all like his life in Denver. His hectic schedule at the hospital had worn him out. He had hated his life there.

He wanted a personal side to his practice that could never be achieved at Denver Memorial. There, his patients had become a series of blurred faces that were pushed by him with alarming speed in an effort to treat as many people in a day as possible. He found himself losing the personal touch that he craved. He would only be able to accomplish what he wanted by being a part of a practice here in the mountain towns that had given him so much peace and joy when he was growing up.

He tucked his blue flannel shirt into his jeans then pulled on his heavy, black hooded sweatshirt to protect himself from the chill of the morning. Reaching forward, he carefully poured himself a cup of hot coffee from the small coffeepot that sat on the miniature stove before him.

“Not exactly roughing it,” he said quietly, laughing as he sat down at the small table to drink his coffee. He sipped at the hot brew and looked out at the farthest campsite.

He could see the young woman moving about the site and knew from her sureness that she was an efficient and experienced camper. She had set up a portable stove and was cooking breakfast. He also had to give her credit for setting up her tent alone and in the dark,
and
doing it correctly. He wasn’t about to give her more credit for anything else, though.

He had learned not to rush to judgment the hard way. He considered himself a pretty smart guy, but he was the first one to admit that he had been an idiot to be so fooled by a woman who only saw him for the social status that he could give her and the expensive lifestyle that he could provide for her.

“Sam, are you up?” a man’s voice called from outside the camper.

“Come on in, Roy,” Sam called out, standing and leaning forward to open the door for him before stepping back to give him room to enter. “Want a cup of coffee?” he asked quietly.

“I sure could use one, thanks,” Roy Monroe accepted the offer tiredly as he stepped up into the camper.

Sam handed his friend a filled cup and couldn’t help but smile as the ranger accepted the coffee and sat tiredly across from him at the table. Roy had stood by him through the years. He was a good friend that he valued.