Wild About the Wrangler (25 page)

“Stay close.”

“Yep.” She marveled at the assured way Mac led them forward. His movements were cautious but focused. She realized that she would trust him to lead her anywhere.

Slowly they proceeded down the trail toward the meadow. She'd never seen it before, but plenty of people had described it. When the tall cottonwoods rose above the mesquites, their golden leaves glowing in the late-afternoon sunshine, she knew they were almost there.

Now she could hear the restless movements of the herd—soft thuds of hooves on moist ground, a snort, a muted whinny. Excitement became a steel band around her chest. Gradually the trees gave way and then . . . she saw them. She counted thirteen, mostly in shades of brown. Two were light gray like their father. They all stood poised, heads up, obviously on alert.

Mac's voice was a low murmur. “To your right.”

She looked over, and there was the Ghost at the edge of the meadow, his nostrils flared, his gaze directed at the spot where they stood in the shadow of the trees. Adrenaline shot through her, enhancing all her senses. “He sees us,” she whispered.

“He does. He may take off any second. Activate that photographic memory.”

“I will.” She concentrated on the stallion. Ah, he was magnificent, more regal than she'd given him credit for. But that kind of presence didn't show up in a photograph. She'd needed to be here to feel it. Now she knew how she'd draw him, not as a wild renegade on the run, but as a king in full command of his domain.

He snorted and pawed the ground.

A thrill of fear generated by an ancient memory ran through her. But that terrified little girl had learned to put herself in the horse's place. When the Ghost shivered, she realized he feared for the safety of his band. He might challenge the humans who'd appeared at the edge of the meadow, but only to protect those in his care.

Lifting his head, he issued a command and the horses leaped into action. The ground shook as they raced across the meadow and splashed through the creek. The Ghost followed, his powerful muscles bunching as he ran.

Anastasia watched until they were out of sight in the trees on the far side of the canyon. Then she slowly let out her breath and turned to Mac. “Thank you.”

His grin of triumph was cute as hell. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“I have some idea. I've seen that look before and it always means you're really happy.”

She could guess when he'd last seen her looking this happy. They'd likely been naked at the time. “Will they be back tonight?”

“Maybe, but Georgie and Vince have decided that after a sighting, we need to leave them alone for a while. We don't want to disturb their pattern too often if we can help it. We'll walk down from the campsite at dawn and should see them again then.”

“Even if we don't, I'm ready to start sketching.”

“Then let's get a move on.” He guided Cinder into the clearing.

She followed on Jasper as they walked the horses to a trail on the other side of the meadow. “Did you take pictures with your phone? I didn't notice.”

“Didn't need to this time. You're here.”

The significance of that comment didn't register at first. When it did, she blinked in surprise. He hadn't been taking pictures of the Ghost for his benefit all this time. He'd been doing it for her.

She thought back to all the Sunday afternoons he'd walked down to Sadie's after the trail ride to show her the pictures on his phone. She'd been eager to see those pictures, but now she could admit she'd been even more excited to see Mac. She had a hunch he'd felt the same. Damn. They'd probably been in love with each other from the get-go.

Leaving him was going to be the hardest thing she'd ever done, but if she didn't take that job, he'd be disappointed in her. She'd be disappointed in herself, too. In her heart she knew that this was her big chance, a huge turning point in her creative life. But it wouldn't come without sacrifice.

For now, though, she was still here, riding up a narrow trail to a secluded canyon she'd heard about for so long, the place where Vince and Georgie would be married in less than a week. She'd be foolish to let dread of an impending separation from Mac ruin their brief time together.

Because the trail was so narrow he blocked her view of what lay ahead, but she could hear the waterfall. Not being able to see it only added to her anticipation. At last he reached the end of the path and moved forward into the canyon. Her first glimpse stole her breath.

The russet rock seemed to glow in the fading light of the setting sun, and the backdrop of clear sky had never seemed so blue. Silver ribbons of water cascaded hundreds of feet from the rim to the canyon floor and fed into a rippling brook. To her right, a colorful chuck wagon and a stone fire pit marked a cozy campground. No wonder Vince and Georgie wanted to have their ceremony in this canyon.

“You can see why I wanted to show you this.”

“It's spectacular.” She turned to look at him, a fantasy cowboy astride a gleaming black horse, the perfect addition to the scene. “This might sound crazy, but I'd like to try cantering across that meadow toward the falls.”

He smiled. “Like you imagined it would be riding Prince?”

“Yes.” She should have expected that he'd understand. “You know what the ground is like. Would it be safe?”

“Should be. Tighten the string on your hat so it'll stay put. We'll start out at a trot and go from there.”

“Okay.” Her pulse leaped, but Mac would be beside her. She could do this. She
wanted
to do this. “I'm ready.” She nudged Jasper forward, and as they began to trot, she was so focused on her surroundings that she forgot to sing. Amazingly, she didn't bounce.

“Here we go!” Mac called out as he pressed his heels against Cinder's ribs.

She did the same and for one tiny moment panic engulfed her again when Jasper took off. But then she caught his rhythm and her panic again faded, this time turning to joy. She was doing it! She was flying across a meadow on a beautiful horse exactly the way her six-year-old self had dreamed she would!

When they were close enough to the waterfall that the mist dampened her face, she pulled gradually back on the reins and brought Jasper to a stop.

“Liked that, did you?”

That's when she realized she was grinning like a fool. “Loved it.” She glanced at him. “Thanks for making my dreams come true.”

“My pleasure.”

“We should move, though, before the moisture starts affecting my sketch pad.” She turned Jasper and started back toward the campground.

Mac laughed as he came along beside her. “Some women I've known would be worried about their hair.”

“Why, does my hair look bad?”

“No. You look . . . beautiful.”

She met his warm gaze. “Thanks.” Oh, yes, leaving Mac was going to be very tough.

T
hey unsaddled the horses together, because Anastasia insisted on that. But once the horses were munching on their dinner, Mac took over the chores. He built a fire and unpacked the supplies while she sat on one of the logs grouped around the fire pit, her sketch pad balanced on her knees.

He loved watching her work. He'd become used to the mournful tunes she hummed while she drew, but they still made him smile. She'd offered to help him with the meal, too, but he knew she'd been itching to get her hands on a pencil.

He was itching to get his hands on her, but he controlled that urge. They'd have plenty of time to make love after she'd poured out all the images in her head onto paper. He'd never known someone so filled up with creativity. Hard to believe that she'd ever lost interest in drawing, but apparently she had and he'd inspired her to start again.

That justified his existence right there, because he wondered what would have happened if she hadn't gone back to her art. She never would have realized her potential and the world would be a poorer place as a result. But now she would expand into a whole new area. If he'd contributed to that, he'd consider it a point of pride for the rest of his life.

He'd made some stew this morning so he'd have something he could warm up instead of cooking dinner from scratch. He liked cooking, but he liked kissing better, especially if he could be kissing Anastasia. But that wouldn't last. What did? At least this time he knew when the end would come and he also knew she didn't want to leave. That helped.

Henry usually handled the food preparation for the trail riders, so Mac had all kinds of equipment at his disposal at the campsite, including a heavy pot that he could suspend from an iron tripod. Once he had the stew simmering over the fire, he turned his attention to their sleeping arrangements.

He could do without an air mattress but he wanted her to have one. He inflated two so they'd have a level playing field, so to speak. He'd forgotten to ask her if she wanted him to set up a tent, though.

Because he didn't want to interrupt her, he made an educated guess. Lying outside gazing up at the stars seemed like an Anastasia thing to do. That would be after they'd wrung each other out, of course. He pulled a couple of sleeping bags out of the storage trunks, zipped them together, and secured the liner inside.

He chose a location near the fire but not too near. They'd generate plenty of heat all by themselves. Last of all he inflated a couple of pillows and put on clean pillowcases. He tucked some condoms inside the one on the left side, a habit he'd fallen into because that was the side he usually took when they were in bed.

“You've been busy.” Her sketch pad under her arm, she walked over and surveyed the bed he'd created. “Cozy.”

“I hope so. Are you going to show me what you've been working on?”

“Yeah.” She grinned and flipped open the sketch pad. “I'm willing to make prints of this.”

He looked at her new drawing of the Ghost and gave a low whistle. “Amazing.”

“I know, right? I had him rearing before, but this is so much better, with him standing proudly, head up, mane blowing in the breeze. He doesn't need to fight because he's the king.”

“I love it.”

“Good thing, because you get the original for your living room wall. Everyone else gets a signed print.”

“You shouldn't do that. You should sell the original for a whole lot of money. Put it in the gallery in Amarillo. Set the price really high, because it's worth it.”

“No. It's yours, Mac. You made this sketch possible and it's not for sale. It's my gift to you.”

He looked into her eyes and felt a visceral tug that was part lust and a whole lot of something more significant. To hell with the stew. He didn't care if it burned to a crisp if he could only . . . but she might be hungry. “Ready for dinner?”

“Not yet.” She closed her sketchbook, put it on the ground, and anchored it with a nearby rock. Then she sat on the closest log and pulled off her boots. After that she began taking off her clothes.

He'd died and gone to heaven. That was the only explanation for being in the presence of a beautiful woman who seemed to read his every thought. She'd caught him by surprise, so she was way ahead of him by the time he started fumbling with his own clothes. Anticipation made him clumsy.

By the time he'd shed everything, she was already in the sleeping bag. She patted the space next to her. “I saved you some room.” Then she held up a condom packet. “I also went fishing and found this.”

He climbed in and reached for it.

“Nope.” She snatched it away. “Lie down, cowboy. You can test the resilience of the air mattress while I test you.”

And did she ever test him. She started with oral sex, something he'd never experienced while staring up at the twilight sky. She was wickedly good at it, too. He focused on the evening star and made a wish that he could hold out a little longer, just a little . . . “Okay, stop
.
” Jaw clenched, he fought off his climax.

She kissed the tip of his cock. “You can come, you know. We have all night.”

“I know.” He gulped for air.

“Then let me.” She licked the cleft underneath that was all kinds of sensitive.

Breath hissed out between his teeth. “No. Please. Scoot up here.”

She wiggled her way up his body, which was another form of sweet torture. Then she propped herself above him and looked down. “What?”

She was so cute about it that he had to laugh. “Where's the condom?”

“Here.” She held it in front of his face.

“Please put it on. Or let me do it. I want . . . I need . . .”

“All right.” She smiled. “Me, too, actually.”

“Thank God.” He battled his climax some more while she rolled on the condom. After what seemed like an hour, she finished the task and he sighed in relief. “Good job. Now—”

“Don't worry. I know what you want.” Holding his gaze, she moved over him and began claiming territory. “Better?”

“Much.”

“I want to treat you right, Mac.”

He sucked in air as she rotated her hips in a slow circle on her way down. “You're doing . . . a terrific job.”

“You've been so good to me.”

“Like I said, it's easy.”

“Because we fit.” In one smooth movement, she was there.

“We sure do.” He grasped her hips and lifted his to intensify the connection.

“Mmm.” Leaning forward, she braced her hands on either side of his shoulders. Her mouth hovered over his. “I'm gonna miss you like crazy.”

“Same here.”

Keeping the rest of her body still, she kissed him, taking it slow and making generous use of her tongue. Then she angled her head and took the kiss even deeper, as if silently telling him something. He had a pretty good idea what that something was.

And he answered her. Sliding both hands up her warm back, he cradled her head and slackened his jaw. She could have anything she wanted from him. He was completely, absolutely hers.

She made love to him with her mouth while the rest of her body remained completely motionless. Then she moaned softly and her muscles tightened around his cock. Her orgasm rolled through her with a silent power that shook him to his core. His hips rose without conscious effort and his release brought a surge of joy so great that he lost track of where he was.

But he never lost track of who was in his arms. As she ended the kiss and sank against his chest, panting, he held her close and murmured her name. This moment would stay with him forever, even if she couldn't.

•   •   •

Their night together was filled with laughter and lovemaking and very little sleep. Even though Mac knew she wouldn't be leaving permanently for another two weeks, he couldn't help thinking these few hours gave them a chance to say good-bye. He sensed that she felt the same.

At dawn they dressed and crept back to the meadow. The horses were on the far side picking at the scattered tufts of dry grass left from the summer and didn't appear to take notice of them. Mac held Anastasia's hand as they crouched in the shadows and watched.

The stallion moved through the herd as if taking a head count. He seemed relaxed and in charge. Mac had wondered if the trail rides and the increased presence of humans in the area would upset the Ghost's routine, but so far that didn't seem to be happening.

Anastasia put her mouth close to his ear, her breath warm and arousing. “Let's go before we disturb them.”

He nodded. As they crept back up the trail, he listened for a whinny of alarm and rapid hoofbeats signaling that the herd was running away, but the meadow remained peaceful. He and Anastasia had managed to slip in and out of the horses' world without being noticed.

Back in camp, all he had to do was look at her and they were in each other's arms again. They made love without words because they no longer needed them. He wouldn't share her future, but he'd had this special week, far more than he'd ever dreamed of. And it was enough.

They cooked breakfast together and he taught her what he knew about frying eggs and bacon over an open fire. He doubted she'd need to know that in L.A., but she'd asked to learn. The chance that they'd ever share breakfast again was slim.

Their weekend was over and she'd go back to the Victorian this morning. Wedding preparations would take up most of her free time for the rest of the week, although he might see her at Sadie's now and then. Things would return to the way they'd been before she'd asked him to teach her to ride. Except nothing would ever be the same, at least not for him.

They sat on a log near the fire to eat the breakfast they'd made. She was halfway through her meal when she put down her fork and turned to him. “I'm going to destroy that nude.”

“You are?” That shocked him. “Why?”

“If something ever happened to me, people could go through my stuff and find it.” She put her plate on the ground and stood. “Besides, I don't need that sketch to remember how beautiful you are. I can just close my eyes.” She took her sketch pad out of her messenger bag, flipped through it, and tore out the drawing she'd made of him on Friday night.

“But you took the time to draw it. I hate to think of you destroying something you created.”

She tucked her sketch pad back in her messenger bag and set it down before walking toward him holding the nude. “Do you want it?”

“Uh, no. That would be weird.”

“Then it's going away.” She leaned down and thrust it on top of the warm coals. Then she returned to the log and continued eating her breakfast.

He watched the paper crinkle and burn with a mixture of sadness and relief. Knowing she'd drawn the picture made it precious just like everything she created. But she was right. It was too personal to keep around.

He glanced over at her. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She smiled. “Thank you for trusting me to draw it in the first place. I'm keeping the ones of you shaving and cooking because those are adorable, but that one . . .”

“I know.” She'd captured his expression perfectly. Anyone looking at it would recognize that he was a man in love.

And because of that, he didn't want to leave the canyon. She didn't seem in any hurry, either. They had a second cup of coffee and listened to the sound of the waterfall mingled with the chirp of birds. They took their time packing up.

But eventually they couldn't delay the moment any longer. He made sure the fire was out, and then they mounted up. He suggested that Anastasia should lead, figuring she'd take it slow.

Near as he could tell, she did that, but still the trip went faster than he wanted. Part of the time they talked about the wedding. Part of the time they rode in silence, but it was a comfortable one. He didn't know about her state of mind, but he was treasuring every second.

They were almost clear of the canyon walls when his cell phone chimed, indicating an incoming text. He'd noticed before that this was the first place on the way out where he could get reception. Any deeper in was out of range.

He brought Cinder to a halt and pulled out his phone. “Hold up a minute. Let me see what this is about.”

“Sure.” She paused and turned Jasper slightly so she could look back at him.

“It's from Vince.” He scanned the message as a dull ache settled in his chest. “The documentary filming's been postponed. They may try to do it in November, weather permitting, but it might end up being next spring.”

“Oh, no! I hope it's November and not spring. Everyone will be so disappointed if they have to wait months.”

How like her to consider other people first. He'd selfishly thought of what it would mean to him, personally. “I hope it's November, too. But in any case, you won't have to come back from L.A. next week, after all.”

“Yes, I will.” Panic laced her words. “I'm only supposed to be going for a preliminary visit. Maybe I won't like it or they won't like me. But if it's all good, then I have to come back for my stuff. I won't take all of it on Sunday, obviously, so I'll need—”

“Georgie can ship it.” He was pounding nails in his own coffin, but her future employer would say it if he didn't. “Either you'll come back because you're still not sure and need to think things over, or you'll decide to stay. If you're staying, you'll mostly just need the rest of your clothes, right?”

She hesitated, her expression troubled. “I guess. I'll probably rent a furnished apartment to start with. But I thought . . . we'd have a little more time.”

“I know. Me, too.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe it's better this way. We've had a wonderful weekend. We were able to relax and enjoy each other. If you had come back for the filming, we wouldn't have had that luxury. Trying to see each other could have been frustrating.”