Wild Horses (24 page)

Nora smiled, remembering the story Wade had told her when she got home from her trip. About how Todd had organized everyone he knew to build a shelter for the horses at the station. He was making a huge effort to help the horses legally, so maybe she'd changed things for him, too, just a little.

The crunch of boots on gravel broke the stillness, and Nora let her binoculars dangle from her neck, turning on her rock to see the trail below. A man was approaching alone, wearing a faded blue backpack. She had a momentary twinge of concern about meeting a stranger out here before she recognized the faded green cap.
Todd.

Her pulse quickened. She hadn't seen him since Washington. She trained her binoculars on him. He looked so good. Then he glanced up and spotted her on the rock. He waved and she dropped the binoculars, embarrassed to be caught checking him out.

Soon he was standing directly below her. “Wade told me you'd be here,” he said. “But he made me promise to leave right away if you want to be on your own.” He angled his body back the way he'd just come. Took one tentative step. “Do you want me to go?”

Nora stared at him. Taking in his presence. “You just keep showing up where I don't expect you.”

“That is true.” He nodded gravely. “Seems to be a theme between us.”

“Why are you here?”

He tilted his cap back to get a better look at her. The sun was almost down, its last rays slanting over his face. The face she loved. The face she knew she'd never forget.

“To talk you into staying with me in Benson. More specifically, on my ranch. By my side. In my bed. Everywhere. Always. I want to be with you, Nora. And I screwed everything up so badly. I promise that I will do my level best not to mess us up again.”

Her heart was thudding heavily in her chest as she took in his words—he wanted her. Forever. Something small and happy flickered to life inside her. Hope. She wanted to believe him, wanted to be with him. But she was scared.

“What about the horses?” she asked, remembering the bolt cutters that day in his truck.

He glanced in the direction of the herd. “I'll always care about them. I'll always work to improve their conditions.”

“Legally?” She had to know. She couldn't sign on for a life that involved bailing him out of jail.

“Legally. The horses matter a lot. But nothing is more important to me than being with you.”

She considered that. And the way his words were thawing the edges of her heart, which had felt like a lump of ice since their fight. Thawing meant she could bruise. Bruising hurt, and she was tired of hurting.

Nora looked back at the horses. They weren't safe. Out here they could get any number of diseases, be injured any number of ways, and if that happened they might die. But meanwhile, they were free. To bond with each other, to interact the way they were meant to. To experience their share of quiet, perfect evenings like this one. She could push Todd away and keep herself safe, but would she really be free? Would she really be living the life she was meant to?

“Why don't you stay the night?” she said to him. It wasn't an answer, but she was cautious Nora Hoffman and he knew that about her. And loved her anyway. He wouldn't expect an answer right away.

“Thought you'd never ask.” And the grin he gave her sped the thaw and her heartbeat bumped along a little faster.

He came around the boulder and dropped his pack. Climbing up to sit next to her, he brought his binoculars to his eyes, and looked at the herd. “That colt's grown, I swear,” he said. And Nora was so grateful to have him there, just talking about horses. Not pushing his agenda, not demanding an answer.

“Look at the bay mare,” she told him, lifting her own binoculars to see the horse she'd been admiring before. “Look at her eyes. Isn't she beautiful?”

His free hand, the one that was closest to her, reached over and covered hers. “She sure is,” he said quietly. “She sure is.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

N
ORA
PULLED
THE
brightly colored box from her backpack. “I only brought macaroni and cheese,” she said. “I didn't know I'd have company.” Reaching inside again, she pulled out her small cook pot and stove.

“No worries.” Todd turned from where he was setting candle lanterns on the rocks around their campsite. The effect was magical, a golden flickering circle surrounding them. “You didn't think I'd crash your camping trip empty-handed, did you?” He went to his pack and pulled out a bottle of wine. And a corkscrew. And plastic wine goblets.

“You've got to be kidding me!” Nora gasped. “You hauled a bottle of wine out here?”

“And a few other things.” He reached in again and tugged until a collapsible cooler chest emerged. “Roast chicken. I hope you don't mind that it's cold.”

“Your pack must have weighed a ton!”

“Some things are worth carrying a little extra weight for.” He handed her a sealed plastic container. “Grapes?”

“Oh, my gosh!” She marveled, flipping open the lid and popping one into her mouth. The juice was refreshing in the dry heat. “This tastes so good after a day out here.”

“Exactly.” He smiled and set out a few more containers on the tarp they'd spread on the ground. “Potato salad, veggies and dip and some brownies for dessert. What do you think?”

“I think I'm putting away my pathetic macaroni and cheese!” Nora's mouth was watering. She helped Todd lay out the plastic plates he'd brought, the metal utensils, and she laughed at his final flourish—cloth napkins.

“You are ridiculous!” She flicked him with her napkin.

“Ah. You may think so now, but I don't think you'll complain when you taste this.” He'd uncorked the bottle and poured a glass of red wine into a goblet and handed it to her. She immediately took a sip, relishing the rich flavors, their decadence magnified by the austerity of their surroundings.

He poured himself a glass and set the bottle down. “To us.” He lifted a glass in her direction. “To getting it right this time.”

“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” she teased. “I haven't said yes yet.”

“True. But you let me stay. And that means I have all night to convince you.”

Nora tried to keep her reaction from showing as she imagined the kinds of convincing he might do. “Does that mean you have more surprises in that backpack of yours?”

“Oh, wait! There is one more thing. How could I forget?”

He reached into an outside pocket and brought out an envelope. “Wade said this came in the mail today. It looks official. When I stopped by, he asked me to bring it to you.”

She took the heavy cream-colored envelope and examined the return address. It was from Senator Carter's office. The senator had grown up in a Sierra town. But why was she writing to Nora?

She broke the seal and pulled out a letter. Scanned the words, trying to take in their meaning. She stared at Todd in wonder. “You know the study I suggested? At the hearing in Washington? She's asking me to put together a proposal to submit to the land use subcommittee. They might offer me a contract to lead that study.”

Todd let out a whoop and jumped to his feet. He picked her up and spun her in a circle. “That's amazing!” He kissed her hair, her forehead, and then he set her down. “I don't know how you do it, but you make things happen, Nora Hoffman.” He was laughing and he did a wild sort of happy dance while she stared at the letter again. She couldn't stop smiling. It would take a lot of work to create a proposal, and the study might never actually happen, but she had to try.

Todd stopped dancing and passed her wineglass. Raising his, he said “A toast to you. The wisest woman I know. I love you.”

She drank her wine in a daze of miracles. Todd. The letter. The wild mustangs roaming so close to their camp.

It was an incredible meal, the food tasting even more delicious when eaten on a tarp out in the high desert with an envelope of good news as centerpiece. And when they'd packed the remnants into Todd's cooler and stashed it in his pack, they lay on the tarp and watched the stars come out, first just a few, and then more and more as if someone was flipping switches in the sky.

Nora remembered this about them. The way they could lie still and silent, just watching—just being. After a while, Todd reached over and took her hand, which made the moment even more perfect.

Except that her heart was tripping over itself as she wondered what would happen next. Because he'd told her that he wanted them to be together again. And the thought of that was tempting, running warm in her veins along with the wine she'd had.

Was she ready to try? When she knew that he could be selfish and single-minded at times? That same intensity also made him extravagantly romantic and kind. Plus, he could admit when he'd been wrong. And he'd reconnected with his estranged father and flown all the way across the country to make things right with her. And he'd organized the entire town to build a shelter—to create a legal solution for the horses at the holding station.

All night she'd been hyperaware of the details of him. The way his hair curled shaggy behind his ears under his cap. The way a long line formed in his cheek when he smiled. The way his biceps flexed when he lifted something. And those details were making it hard to think straight. Especially when he yawned and turned to her, propped up on one elbow. And ran a fingertip along her jawbone in a feather touch. And used his knuckles to brush hair off her forehead while he said, “I want you.”

She'd been getting sleepy, but with his words every cell came awake. She wanted him, too—wanted to feel the wild desire between them that made her forget fear and caution.

“Okay,” she whispered, kissing his knuckles as they passed by her mouth.

“But not on a tarp.” He grinned down at her and she laughed, remembering that freezing night they'd spent together.

“No...we tried that once. It wasn't very fun.”

“It was in a sheep shed, if I remember correctly.”

“You do.”

“So that means your tent would be an upgrade in comparison?”

“Definitely.” She sat up, unable to continue the playful banter when she knew that they could be together. “Let's go.”

Her bluntness gave him pause for only a moment. And then he leaned over and kissed her, long and slow. He stood in a lithe movement, bending down to offer his hand. “Okay, then.”

She let him pull her up, and went to unzip the tent while he blew out the remaining candles.

Once inside, he caught sight of her sleeping bag and gave a yelp of delight. He used his flashlight to illuminate the logo. “See? Our bags are the same brand. They'll zip together. It's a sign!”

She laughed at him as he deftly zipped their bags together. “Is that some kind of mountain man pick-up line?”

“Well, I haven't tried it before, but I think it was pretty good. Is it working?”

Nora sat down on top of the bags and felt her pulse go jittery. Even more than the first time they'd been together at his house. Because now she knew how amazing it could be. “It's working,” she said and pulled off her fleece jacket, folding it to serve as her pillow. Then she took off her shirt and pants and looked up at him, well aware that he was staring at her—she was down to her underwear and bra. “I've got a new cause for you. Get in here and get me warm.”

He laughed and as she snuggled down into the bags she heard him unzip his jacket and remove his shorts. “That sounds like a cause I can get behind. Or under, or over...”

She giggled at his innuendo. “Maybe being one of your causes isn't such a bad idea after all.”

“Oh, no,” he whispered as he slid into the sleeping bag and leaned down so his lips were almost touching hers. “I think this particular cause is a really, really good idea.” And then his mouth came down on hers and she shut her eyes so all she could feel were his lips covering her mouth in his heat and flavor. She wrapped her arms around him and rolled above him to deepen the kiss.

He unhooked her bra, cupped her breasts in his hands, thumbs sliding softly over her nipples until she was gasping. For air. For sanity. And she realized right then that her sanity was already gone. Their connection was so strong, there wasn't room for logic, reason and caution here.

Her breasts ached under his touch and she knew that tonight foreplay was overrated. After nearly losing him, all she wanted was them together. She reached down and tugged the waistband of his underwear. He took the hint and slid them off.

Immediately his hands were back on her waist, putting her back on top of him. He'd grabbed a condom from somewhere and in moments he was inside her, moving fiercely, saying her name over and over as if making sure she was still with him.

It was the answer to everything—what she wanted, what she needed, her hunger, her fear and the question he'd asked her earlier, about their future. The question that she hadn't been able to answer with mere words.

* * *

I
T
WAS
LIGHT
OUT
, just barely. Todd looked down at Nora, nestled into their combined sleeping bags. Her lashes were a dark fringe carpeting her closed eyes. Her long brown hair was tousled and tossed over her shoulders. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and she'd let him stay the night—let him share her tent, let him love her.

He was suddenly restless. If he stayed in this tent, he'd wake her with all kinds of demands. And she deserved a little of the peace she'd hiked out here to seek.

Moving slowly, he found his T-shirt and tugged it over his head. He groped around the tent floor and discovered his shorts. His fleece jacket had been his pillow, and he relished the warmth as he pulled it on. It would be hot later, but right now the chill of the night lingered.

His boots were outside. He unzipped the tent in slow motion, keeping his eyes trained on Nora to make sure she didn't stir. Slowly he eased himself out the door and zipped the tent up again as quietly as he could.

Boots laced, he took his binoculars, a water bottle and his camera and started carefully down the slope toward where he could see the herd. Some of them were lying down while others stood, vigilant even in sleep. He wanted to get some photos of them in the early light, just as the sun came up. If he got a good enough shot, he'd frame it and give it to Nora.

There was a large rock several yards closer to the horses that would be a perfect spot to shoot from. He'd almost reached it when the stallion saw him, his noble head lifting up on alert, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the wind, trying to determine if he should be worried about Todd's approach. Todd sank down slowly behind the rock, not wanting to frighten the animal. He set his camera on top of the granite so he'd be ready for his shot, and then he waited for sunrise.

All around him was sagebrush, its feather-like gray-green fronds reaching up to the luminous sky. Idly he reached over and cracked off a sprig, inhaling its deep scent—minty, peppery, an essential smell of wild places. He loved it.

He thought of Nora and how much a part of her life plants like this were. How he didn't want her to take her work somewhere else. She belonged here, on the east side of the Sierras, with him. He felt it. Just like he felt so strongly that the horses deserved a home out here—that they were an integral part of everything. So was Nora. So was he.

He glanced east. The plains went on and on in shadow, but now there was a gold tinge to the horizon. And he knew, with the same certainty that the sun would rise this morning, that he needed to find a way to show Nora that she could trust him. That it was safe for them to be together.

* * *

N
ORA
WOKE
UP
to an empty tent. She poked her head outside, looking for Todd. Hopefully he'd produce some incredible feast for breakfast, just as he'd provided her with such an unexpected dinner last night. She flushed, thinking of what else he'd provided her with. How perfect last night had been.

She searched through the chaos of their bedding for her clothes. Then found her fleece and her boots and climbed out of the tent.

She headed straight for the boulder she'd been sitting on yesterday when Todd had shown up. From there she could see the high desert rolling off into the distance, patterned with arroyos where it met the mountains. The rising sun was lighting up the Sierra peaks, highlighting the ridges and casting the valleys into shadow. Making the slopes look like the crooked talons of enormous, magical birds.

Below her and in the distance, the horses grazed. And walking away from them, heading in her direction, was Todd.

She watched his figure get bigger with every step he took. He'd be with her again in a few minutes. And at some point today he would want to know what she was thinking. If she'd stay in Benson with him.

It should be a big decision, deciding to stay in the hometown she'd never wanted to return to, with the man who'd left her heartbroken once before. But this morning it seemed easy.

She had a chance at something different. And it might not be the safest choice. Her heart could get bruised again. But it would be exciting and passionate and a little wild. And maybe, finally, she was ready for that.

“Good morning,” she called softly, as Todd hiked up the slope toward her.

“Good morning.” In three quick steps he'd scaled the rock and was sitting next to her. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “It's nice to see you.”

He smiled. “Likewise.” He kissed her back, softly, on the lips. “I tried to get some photos of the horses at sunrise. I think a few of them might turn out pretty well.”

“That's great,” Nora told him. “I'm sure they will.”