Night Thunder (13 page)

The faster pace kept Josy busy balancing, but she tried not to bounce too much in the saddle and concentrated on not falling off. There was no more time to think about Ty Barclay or Meg or Faith, there was only the sensation of rolling movement, of air whipping past her, of the smooth flow of the horse’s muscles beneath her.

After a while she felt like she was getting the hang of it, and though she wasn’t quite flying, she was moving at a good clip, with only the flower-adorned foothills rising gradually before her, and seemingly endless meadowland surrounding her beneath the great aquamarine dome of the Wyoming sky.

Exhilaration surged through her. She was riding—riding across wide open spaces just as she’d always imagined all those years ago. Not galloping full speed, not bounding across the earth faster than the wind, but definitely riding.

A burst of sun ignited the larkspur and the tips of the leaves, and the scent of sage filled the air with a fresh fragrant aroma that made her feel intensely alive and almost connected to the very earth beneath her.

Ty slowed his mount to a walk and fell back so that they were riding side by side again.

“Had enough or do you want to go on?”

“To Blue Moon Mesa? Yes.”

“It’s at least another forty-minute climb,” he warned. “The terrain’s rougher. Think you can handle it?”

“No problem.”

Was that a flash of approval she saw in his face?

“You really think I’m a wimp, don’t you?” she asked.

His smile was slow and unexpected. “I’m not sure what I think,” he replied, studying her face beneath the rim of the baseball cap. “I’ll have to let you know later.”

She smiled smugly. “You do that, cowboy.”

Suddenly she urged Moonbeam forward, into a canter once again, surging past Ty Barclay and the buckskin. She heard his chuckle, and an answering laugh escaped from her own throat.

“Try to keep up,” she called over her shoulder as she saw the start of a dirt trail winding upward toward the pines that rimmed the foothills.

Ty let her stay in the lead for a while, enjoying the view of her slender frame and rounded bottom ahead of him. She had good form for a beginner and she was a good sport too, he reflected.

And had a backside that was sexy as hell.

Not that any of that mattered. Inviting her to go riding had been a whim—a strange one at that—but he doubted they’d do it again. She might get ideas. Like they were going to start seeing each other or something and that wasn’t about to happen.

Still, he might as well enjoy the day—she was good company and it was surprisingly easy to talk to her. She hadn’t once started murmuring all kinds of platitudes about being sorry about Meg, questioning him about how long ago she’d died, telling him he’d get over it.

That was unusual. And refreshing.

For another few moments they rode in silence, until they neared the switchback that would take them to Shadow Point, and from there, to the trail that led to Blue Moon Mesa.

Ty spurred Pepper ahead and took the lead. “The path we want is this way—you can’t see it outright unless you know it’s there. Slow down here—the trail up to Shadow Point is going to be narrow.”

They followed the switchback at a walk, and rode along an increasingly rocky trail, where buttercups and forget-me-nots dotted the sloping hillside.

“See that clearing up ahead?” Ty reined in Pepper and she drew up beside him, looking where he pointed to a wide ledge not far up the trail.

“That’s Shadow Point. It’s famous here as a makeout spot—has been for generations. Unfortunately, that’s as far as we’re going to get today. No way we can make it all the way to Blue Moon Mesa. Those clouds are moving in too fast.”

He was right, she saw in surprise. She’d been so intent on the ride, she hadn’t noticed that the sun was no longer beating hot on her shoulders, that the white puffy clouds had drifted away and been replaced by darker ones moving in from the west.

The air had changed too—it smelled of rain, and the breeze that whipped down from the hills felt cool against her bare arms. All of a sudden, it seemed, rain was moving in and moving in fast.

“Do you want to head back now or try to make it at least to Shadow Point?” he asked. “I can’t promise you won’t get wet.”

“We’ve come all this way.” Josy bit her lip, studying the clouds. “I like to finish what I start. And I’d like to see Shadow Point—even if we only stay for a few minutes.”

“Okay then. Follow me. It’s a little tricky just ahead—”

He broke off as Moonbeam suddenly reared up on his hind legs, snorting. At the same instant, Ty heard the deadly rattle from the side of the path.

It all happened in a flash. Josy shrieked, grabbing at the horse’s neck to keep from falling off, but Ty was already seizing Moonbeam’s reins, yanking the gelding down with a jolt, his muscles straining as the terrified horse tried to bolt forward.

“Whoa, boy. Whoa!” Ty’s fist balled tight on the reins as Moonbeam danced sideways and tried to rear up again. Ty spotted the rattlesnake three feet away. Still holding the gelding under rigid control, he dropped his own reins, and in one swift movement reached back for his rifle, leaned over Moonbeam’s neck, past Josy, and fired two shots.

He saw the shudder reverberate through Josy as the gunshots boomed through the air, saw her close her eyes, wince, even as a few feet away, the rattlesnake collapsed into a lifeless heap.

Ty had his hands full for the next thirty seconds, keeping both horses under control with brute strength.

Finally, they quieted enough for him to spring down. He moved to Moonbeam’s head, speaking softly. He had to concentrate exclusively on soothing the panicked animal until its quivering ceased, before he could finally turn his attention to the spooked woman still clinging to the horse’s mane. She was white with shock, her green eyes wide and bright with fear.

“He’s all right now. Let me help you down. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Shakily, she leaned toward him and felt herself being lifted gently to the ground. When her feet touched the earth, he didn’t let her go. His arms stayed wrapped tightly around her, supporting her as he spoke to her in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone.

“The rattlesnake spooked him, that’s all. Everything’s all right now.”

“One second he was f-fine, then . . . all of a sudden . . . he tried to throw me—”

“No, he wasn’t trying to throw you. He just got scared and reacted. He forgot all about you,” Ty said with a grim smile.

She was trembling, so he stroked a reassuring hand down her back. “It’s all over now. You’re fine. I told you I wouldn’t let you fall—and I meant what I said.”

She drew a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart. It was true, he’d saved her from being thrown—or, possibly worse, from being trapped on a runaway horse bolting wildly up the trail. She’d have been lucky to hang on, much less able to bring him under control.

“Thank you,” she gasped. “Now . . . can we . . . take a taxi home?”

He laughed. His arms were still wrapped around her and he was surprised when she suddenly leaned in against him and for a moment rested her head upon his shoulder.

They stood that way in silence for a moment, while a searing sensation rushed through him. Then she abruptly lifted her head, stiffened in his arms, and jerked back.

“Never mind. I . . . I’m sorry to be such a baby. I guess I am a wimp after all.” She tried to smile. “I’m fine now. Really.”

But she was gazing warily at the horses, and Ty knew exactly what was going through her head—she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to get back up on Moonbeam again.

“You know what they say. When you fall off, you have to get right back in the saddle.”

“Yeah? Who says?” She shook her head. “Whoever it was, he obviously never was thrown off a crazed horse and nearly eaten by a rattlesnake.”

He laughed again. “You weren’t thrown off either, and the rattlesnake wouldn’t have eaten you.”

“I’m not so sure.”

Ty understood her distress. She was a raw beginner, and she was scared. But he knew one thing—if she didn’t get back up on Moonbeam right now, she’d probably never ride again.

He took her hand in his, surprised by the iciness of her long, slender fingers. He folded his hand around hers. “If we don’t get moving, we’ll get soaked long before we get back to Ada’s place. This looks like one of those fast-moving storms that comes when you least expect it, roars through, and then blows along on its merry way. And we’re going to be smack in the middle of it. So we have to get the hell going. Shadow Point’s going to have to wait for another day.”

He was right. The clouds were getting darker by the moment and the sky was turning an ominous murky green. The sun had disappeared and the wind was turning colder every second they stood there.

She shivered in her T-shirt. “Okay.”

Still, she hesitated, hugging her arms around herself and glancing uneasily at Moonbeam. The horse was quiet now, giving no sign of fear or nervousness. She wished she could say the same about herself.

“C’mon, you’ll be fine. I promise,” Ty said quietly.

She glanced at him. There was sympathy in his face, lending it a tenderness she’d never seen there before. As their eyes met, she felt an odd heat flare inside her and she drew in her breath.

Oh, boy. This fresh, sage-scented air was heady stuff.
That’s all it is,
she told herself.
Too much space, too much
nature, too much adventure for one afternoon.

Too much man?
a voice inside of her suggested. Josy tried to stifle the voice. “Well, if you promise, then what can I say? Let’s do it.”

She managed a smile, but it came out more as a grimace. Still, Ty Barclay smiled back as she started toward Moonbeam.

Right before she mounted, she glanced over her shoulder and saw the shot-up rattlesnake sprawled in the dirt. For one insane moment it brought back the hideous memory of Archie lying dead on the blood-soaked floor.

She closed her eyes, struggling to get a grip on herself.

“Not a pretty sight, I know, but he had it coming.” Ty held her elbow to steady her as she prepared to swing a foot into the stirrup.

“I’ve seen worse.” Josy braced herself, then swung up and over as Ty boosted her into the saddle. To her relief, Moonbeam stayed steady, merely lifting his head and snorting as Josy fitted both feet into the stirrups and settled herself.

“Good boy,” she muttered in relief, and patted the gelding’s neck before gathering up the reins.

Then Ty was mounted on Pepper, leading the way back down the trail the way they’d come. He kept the horses to a quick walk as they rode carefully to lower ground, working their way back toward the open, grassy land.

Big raindrops splattered down just as they reached the meadow.

“Don’t gallop!” Josy called out worriedly, and he shot her an encouraging smile before urging Pepper into a trot.

By the time they reached Ada’s house, the rain was hammering down like sleek silver nails and they were both soaked.

“Ada’s not back yet, so you’d better head home to dry off,” Ty told Josy over the rush of wind and rain as he helped her down outside the barn.

“What about you?” she called as he opened the barn door and led Moonbeam and Pepper inside.

“I’ve got to dry them off and rub them down and feed them before I leave. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. But you’d better get out of those wet clothes.”

Yet his eyes couldn’t help lingering on her as she moved just within the barn door. Her jeans were molded tightly to the curves of her hips and to her small, rounded bottom. Just as her sodden T-shirt and bra were molded to her breasts.

He couldn’t help it—he wanted to touch her.

Everywhere.

He wanted to lick the raindrops from that gorgeous, delicate face. To help her out of those wet clothes and into that sweet-smelling pile of hay in the corner.

Damn it, he was getting hard just looking at her.

He forced himself to look away and busied himself unsaddling the horses, but he sensed her still in the doorway, hesitating.

“I hate to just leave. . . . Do you . . . need some help?”

“From a tenderfoot?” He wouldn’t let himself look at her again. Instead, he hoisted off Pepper’s saddle. “Nope. Go home, Josy. Dry off.”

It was the first time he’d called her by her name. For some stupid reason, her heart turned over in her chest.

“Thanks for the riding lesson. And for . . . everything.”

“Maybe next time we’ll make it to Shadow Point.”

Next time?
She opened her mouth, but it was hard to think what to say. Because all she could do right now was stare at him and try to get her feet to budge toward the barn door.

He was gorgeous. Waterlogged and gorgeous. His jeans were plastered to his body, what she could see of it. He held the saddle before him, covering one crucial part.

Not that she was interested, she told herself. But it was no use.

She couldn’t drag her gaze from his shirt, which clung to his wide sculpted chest and to every bulging muscle on those powerful, corded arms.

Down, girl,
she thought desperately, as a wave of hot yearning spiked through her.

“See ya,” she finally managed to croak out, and then shivering, she darted out the door.

She didn’t look back and didn’t see him standing there, holding the saddle, watching her run away from him through the wind and rain.

He wasn’t even aware of the smile on his face—at first. He caught it as the battered Blazer disappeared down Angel Road. Then the smile vanished.

Ty Barclay’s mouth settled into a frown as he closed the barn door.

Chapter 11

“I BROUGHT A PEACE OFFERING.”

Roy Hewett extended the six-pack of beer to his cousin with a grin. “And I could use one of these myself if you don’t mind.”

“Beware of family members bearing gifts,” Ty growled, but he accepted the beer and stepped aside to let Roy enter his apartment.

He wasn’t really angry anymore about Roy pushing him into dancing with Josy Warner, but he wasn’t about to let his cousin off the hook too easily. It went against his general principle of keeping anyone from feeling like they had a right to mess in his life.

He’d come home from his rain-soaked ride with Josy about two hours ago. He’d showered, watched some TV, and had been just about to shove a frozen pizza in the microwave when Roy showed up. The rain had ended a short time ago and now, through the open doors leading to the balcony, the night glistened cool and still, filled with the scent of damp earth and sage. Somehow the fresh clean smell now made him think of her. Crazy.

“You want some pizza?” he asked as Roy dropped down into the easy chair and put his feet up on the coffee table.

“Naw, Corinne and I already ate. I just stopped by because she bawled me out again for what I pulled the other night at the Tumbleweed. She said I set up her new friend to get her feelings hurt. And that you had every right to be mad at me.”

“Smart woman you’re marrying. You ought to listen to her.” Ty took the pizza from the freezer and tore off the cardboard packaging.

“Does that mean you’re still pissed at me for throwing you together with Josy?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you need a kick in the ass to get your life jump-started again. And Adam and Faith both agree with me. So I did something about it, okay? Sue me.”

“Just don’t try it again or I might do something worse than sue you.”

Roy grinned. He knew Ty was too basically good-natured to make good on his threats. Both Ty and Adam were tough as rawhide and there weren’t too many men with any brains who’d go up against them, but Roy had once beaten Adam in a schoolyard fight in seventh grade, and he figured if he ever had to, he could at least survive a brawl with Ty. All the Barclay men could fight their way to hell and back and come out on top, but they also had famous soft spots for dogs, kids, and their own family.

“Fact is, you ought to have gotten down on both knees and thanked me,” Roy retorted. “Josy Warner’s a knockout. And she’s only in town for a few weeks, according to Corinne, so it seemed perfect—no long-term commitment, no pressure. It’s not like I wanted you to marry the woman.”

“Stay the hell out of my life, Roy.” Ty shoved the pizza in the microwave and punched in buttons. “And you can tell Faith and Adam to do the same.”

Roy helped himself to a beer and held his tongue until his big cousin had brought the heated pizza over to the coffee table, taken a bite of sausage and gooey cheese, and washed it down with a gulp of Budweiser.

“All right, you win. I won’t pull anything like that again—at least for a while,” Roy conceded. “So, come on, tell me. What did you think?”

“About what?”

“About Josy.”

“I think you’d better drop the subject.”

Roy gave up. Not only wasn’t he going to get even a shred of information out of Ty, it also seemed obvious that the stunning new woman in town hadn’t lit any fires under him. Damn.

“So what are you really doing here, Roy? And why did you say you could use a drink?”

“Oh, hell. It’s all this wedding stuff. I’m sick of it. Invitations, writing wedding vows, picking out centerpieces. I can’t wait till this thing’s over. And I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” Ty took another swig of his beer. “Shoot.”

“How would you like to be my best man?”

Slowly, Ty grinned. A smile crinkled across Roy’s face.

“I’d like it fine, so long as you don’t try to set me up with any of the bridesmaids,” Ty told him.

“Word of honor. But you’ll need to rent a tux.”

“Hey, anything for family.”

Roy looked pleased. “Have you talked to your mom lately? Are she and your dad and the rest of the family coming in time for the prenuptial dinner?”

“I spoke to Faith yesterday. She said yep, they’re all coming in early. And they’re all eager to meet Corinne.”

Roy nodded. “That’s great. Speaking of which, now that I’ve arranged for my best man—item number five out of the fifty or so tasks she’s assigned me for today—I promised to take her to the Tumbleweed tonight. I have to shove off. Want to join us? I promise not to torture you by introducing you to any more gorgeous blondes.”

“Don’t push your luck, Roy.”

Roy laughed and stood up. At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Ty strode over and opened it.

“Hi.” Josy stood in the hallway, smiling shyly. “I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

It sounded lame, even to her. She had to squelch the urge to run back to her own apartment as she gazed up at the tall man with the freshly washed hair slicked down over his brow, the clean black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, and the surprised expression on his face.

In truth she didn’t know why she was here, but she’d been restless as a cat ever since she’d come home, soaked in a hot bubble bath, and eaten a handful of cheese and crackers. It was just about all she had left in her pantry— except for Ricky’s stupid package.

“I got home fine.” Ty was aware that Roy was less than ten feet away, listening to every word.

Now there would be hell to pay. The funny thing was, at the moment he didn’t really give a damn. Josy Warner was drawing every ounce of his attention.

She looked as fresh and beautiful as a long-stemmed yellow rose. She was wearing white sweatpants and a pink tank top, and her pale hair was bound up in some kind of French twist arrangement that he found extremely sexy. It begged to be freed from the elasticized band that held it back from those exquisitely feminine features.

“And Moonbeam and Pepper?” she continued, still gazing at him with that slight hesitant smile on her face. “They’re all right?”

“Good as new.” Ty heard Roy walking up behind him. “You remember my cousin Roy?”

“Oh.” A delicious blush rose in her cheeks. “Of course I do.”

Roy Hewett was grinning from ear to ear—
looking exactly like the Cheshire cat in a cowboy hat,
she thought, shifting from one foot to the other as the heat in her cheeks told her she was blushing like a teenager.

“Nice to see you again, Josy.” Roy’s keen gaze shifted back and forth between her and Ty. “What’s this I heard about horses?”

“We . . . went for a ride this afternoon—and got soaked.” She suddenly remembered the baseball cap in her hand and thrust it at Ty.

“Here. I thought you might want this back. I didn’t know you had company,” she added quickly, starting to edge down the hall.

“Hold on.” Ty’s gaze held hers, then he glanced over his shoulder at Roy. “My cousin was just leaving.”

“Yep, I sure was.” Roy sauntered past him, out into the hall, his grin broader than ever. “I’m on my way to pick up Corinne,” he told Josy. “We’re headed over to the Tumbleweed. I’d ask you two to join us, but I expect you have better things to do.”

From the twinkle in his eyes, Josy knew word would be racing like wildfire through the town in ten minutes flat that there was something going on between Josy Warner and Ty Barclay.

She suppressed a groan as Roy disappeared into the stairwell, and they heard the quick thump of his boots going down the steps.

Her gaze lifted to Ty’s. “Oh, God. Sorry. Talk about bad timing.” She shook her head with a wry grin. “Now he’s going to think there’s something going on between us. You know he will.”

“Forget about Roy. He has the maturity of a second grader. Come on in.”

She stepped inside, noting that his apartment looked just like hers. And it was almost as bereft of personal touches. There were no photographs, no art, except for the exact same moose and barn print, no flowers or candles or vases. Just a green sofa, two armchairs, a coffee table, and white walls.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Sheriff Barclay. It has about as much soul and character as mine. But I’m only here for a month—what’s your excuse?”

“I’m not into interior decorating.” He closed the door.

“Oh, right. I forgot. You’re into . . . what was it? Guns, cuffs, Krispy Kremes.” But she was smiling as she said it. “I think the only thing we have in common there is the doughnut thing.”

“That’ll work. I like to leave the guns and the cuffs at work anyway. How about a beer? Or do you only drink white wine?”

“More stereotypes, Sheriff?”

His eyes lit with amusement. “Don’t be so suspicious. I happened to notice that’s what you were drinking at the Tumbleweed that night. I’m a cop, remember? I notice things.”

Another reason I have no business being here,
Josy thought.

“A beer will be fine.” She eyed the leftover pizza on the counter, wishing she knew just why she
was
here. “A slice of that pizza along with it would be heavenly,” she murmured, trying not to sound too desperate.

His brows lifted. “All out of food?”

“Just about. I had cheese and crackers for breakfast and the last of it for dinner.”

“I can do better than that.”

He set the pizza on a black stoneware plate and zapped it, then brought the plate and a bottle of beer to the coffee table. He sipped his own beer, watching as she curled up on the sofa and devoured the food.

“I have another pizza in the freezer if you’re still hungry.”

“Give me a break. Do I look that starved?”

“Uh-huh. And my mother raised her kids to never let a guest go hungry. I’m just making sure.”

She licked the last drop of tomato sauce from her fingers. “You’re fond of her, aren’t you?” she asked. “You’re fond of all of them—your mother, your sister, and your brother. What about your father? You haven’t said much about him.”

“We get along.” Ty’s voice was calm, equable. “He’s into business and politics a lot more than I ever will be. He’d have preferred it if I’d gone into either law or the FBI, instead of becoming a cop, but he let me make my own decision. Other than giving us unasked-for pieces of advice now and then, he’s a fairly hands-off guy. Whatever makes my mother happy, makes him happy.”

Despite his casual words, she saw the affection in his eyes as he spoke about his father and for a moment she wondered what it would have been like to grow up in that kind of big, active, happy family.

“What about you?” Ty asked. He sat down at the end of the green sofa and leaned his shoulders against the cushions, watching her. “Are you close with your family?”

“I think I would have been, but . . . I’m an only child and my parents died right before I turned twelve.”

She waited for him to flinch, to offer some kind of awkward sympathy, but instead he just nodded and gazed at her, steadily, calmly.

“That must have been tough.”

“Yes. They were in a car accident. It was . . . so sudden. One morning we all had breakfast together before I left for school, and the next morning . . . they were gone.”

She picked up a napkin, twisted it in her fingers. “I couldn’t even speak for a while after they died,” she went on quietly. “For several months I was mute. The doctors said it was shock. It . . . it wore off eventually.”

She swallowed, suddenly self-conscious. She’d told him far more than she’d told most people. Even Jane and Reese didn’t know about her inability to speak.

“Were you taken in by relatives?”

She shook her head, shifting on the sofa, not willing to tell him more, about her life in foster care.
Don’t turn this
into a pity party,
she thought. Aloud, she spoke coolly. “Look, do we have to talk about this?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t.”

Ty nodded, came to his feet. “There’s something I want to do.”

He smiled as her head flew up and she regarded him with sudden wariness. For a coolly sophisticated, beautiful woman she had a way of turning skittish on a dime that intrigued him. And why not? A woman of contradictions . . . and secrets . . .

Pure magnetism for a cop.

He took a CD from a pile on the bookshelf and put it in his CD player.

Rod Stewart’s jagged, raspy voice poured out.
If I listened long enough to you . . .

“No Johnny Cash, Garth, or Dolly Parton?” she asked, surprised and a little nervous as he walked toward her and stopped beside the sofa. She had to crane her neck to look up at him, past that broad chest and those wide shoulders, past the five-o’clock shadow fringing his lean jaw.

“Country’s fine, but I like to mix things up now and then. Ms. Warner, would you care to dance?”

Her laugh was soft, a little breathless. Ty felt his muscles tighten with a surge of one hundred proof lust.

“If you’re sure nobody’s forcing you into this.”

“I’m sure.” He took her hand and drew her up off the sofa. His gaze held hers as Rod Stewart’s sensuous voice filled the room.

A whisper of heat shimmered through her as Ty drew her away from the coffee table, into the middle of the living room. When his arm slid around her waist and drew her close against him, Josy caught her breath.