Stormwalker Page 9

  ❧

  As he'd promised, they started out early the next morning. Though her muscles still protested sullenly when she mounted her horse, she wasn't as stiff as she had been. Her body was adjusting to the conditions. Even the thin air was beginning to seem normal to lungs more accustomed to sea level.

  Satin didn't require any real guidance to follow the packhorses, and Sara let her mind wander. Mostly her thoughts were with Cullen. What was he doing and feeling? Was he badly hurt? Was he conscious? She refused to wonder if he was still alive. She clung to her belief that if he were dead, she'd be able to feel that. He and Bill were used to hunting and camping in primitive conditions. Bill had been a medic in the army. Between the two of them, they had more survival skills than any twenty people. They just had to be alive. And Cullen had to know she wouldn't give up until she found him.

  All too often she found her thoughts drifting to the man who rode ahead of her. They'd barely spoken that morning in the bustle of breaking camp. But some of the tension had been eased by last night's confrontation.

  What was he thinking of? she wondered. Was he as aware of her as she was of him, or did he forget her the moment she was out of sight? Perhaps that was one of the reasons he hadn't suggested that they ride side by side, though there was room for it. He probably liked being able to forget about her as long as they were traveling. The thought was depressing, but Sara refused to examine why it bothered her.

  They stopped for lunch, and the cold meal was eaten in almost total silence. Stealing glances at him from under her lashes, Sara thought she detected traces of last night's disturbed sleep. The lines beside his mouth seemed deeper. He hadn't shaved since they left the ranch and the stubble on his chin gave him a scruffy look, which should have been unattractive but wasn't. He glanced up and Sara's eyes lowered. She could feel a blush coming up in her cheeks, and she cursed her pale complexion that blushed so easily.

  "Dog doesn't like many people." The words were so far away from her own thoughts that it took Sara a moment to grasp them. Her eyes focused blankly on the hulking canine who'd once again planted himself firmly across her feet. Sensing her eyes on him, Dog turned his head, yellow eyes staring at her dispassionately.

  She eyed Dog doubtfully. "I'm not sure he likes me."

  Cody stood up, arching his back in a bone-popping stretch, and Sara tried not to notice the way the movement molded his jeans to the long muscles of his thighs.

  He studied the big dog and the petite woman for a moment before bending down to scoop his hat off the ground and slap it on his head. "He likes you."

  Sara's eyes traveled from the dog to the man and then scurried back to the dog again. Dog was safer to look at. He didn't give her that uncertain, breathless feeling that the man did.

  "If you say so." She moved her feet tentatively, a little uneasy about disturbing the huge animal. With an almost human grunt, Dog surged to his feet and wandered off. Cody's eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched her.

  "If Dog didn't like you, he'd stay away from you. He's not a cuddly animal, but he tends to stick close to people he deems worthy of his time."

  Sara bent to pick up her own hat and looked at the animal in question for a moment longer before turning toward the horses. "I suppose it would be worse if he thought he was a lap dog."

  She turned as she got to her horse, only to find that Cody was standing right behind her. As long as she lived, she didn't think she'd ever adjust to his silent walk. Her head tilted up to meet his eyes, reading the amusement there. His whole face softened when he was amused, losing the fascinating hardness that both attracted and frightened her.

  "If Dog thought he was a lap dog, I'd have to scrape you up off the ground after he was done sitting on you."

  She swallowed, trying not to notice the way his chest hair curled in the opening of his shirt. "Like I said, it could be worse." Could he hear the tremor in her voice?

  He cupped his hands and she set her booted foot in them, letting him toss her into the saddle even though she'd managed to mount without his help earlier in the day. Once mounted, she looked down at him, a new perspective for someone who was accustomed to having everyone tower over her.

  He reached up to scratch behind Satin's ear, his expression unreadable beneath the brim of his hat. Sara could only hope her own hat provided similar camouflage.

  "Up ahead there's a place where the stream widens out into a pool. The water will be pretty cool but it might give you a chance to wash up, if you wanted. And it isn't as cold as it will be when the snow melts in the spring."

  "It sounds wonderful. I must smell like a boar hog in June. But I don't want to slow us down."

  "I'd planned to camp just a little ways downstream from the pool anyway. And I never knew a boar hog who smelled like a field of summer flowers."

  He turned away to mount Dancer before Sara could respond. Had that been a compliment?

  ❧

  She still hadn't decided on the compliment when they made camp several hours later. It was still full daylight, though the sun was sinking fast. For the most part, she stood back and let Cody set up the tent and lay the fire. She wanted to pull her own weight, but there was no denying that she was more of a hindrance than a help when it came to setting up a wilderness camp.

  "I'm going to ride on ahead and check out the trail. The pool is straight up the stream about fifty yards. Dog will stay with you."

  Sara hesitated a moment, remembering the rattlesnake. She wasn't so sure she wanted to be left alone, though the thought of being able to wash up was like a promise of heavenly rewards.

  "Don't worry about snakes. The one you met up with should have been tucked away for the winter already. You're not going to run into another one, especially not this close to nightfall. And Dog is enough to scare off anything else that might be around. I won't be gone long."

  He'd stripped the saddle off Dancer when they first stopped and gave the stallion a handful of oats. Now he grasped a handful of silky mane and swung himself onto the horse's back. There was something so right about the way he looked sitting atop the gleaming bay without the artificial intrusion of the saddle to dull the contact between man and horse. His heels nudged the horse into motion, and with a sigh Sara turned to walk upstream, Dog trotting silently next to her.

  "I hope you don't mind being elected to do guard duty. I really feel much better having someone around." There was something about Dog that made it seem perfectly normal to converse with him as if he were human. It didn't matter that he didn't have much to add to the conversation. Sara had the feeling that it was purely by choice that he didn't answer her remarks.

  She found the pool without trouble, her breath catching at the sheer beauty of it. The stream widened and deepened long enough to form a peaceful little pool. Pine trees trudged down almost to the water's edge on the opposite bank. On the side where Sara and Dog stood, a blanket of grass—pale green with approaching winter—carpeted the shallow rise that banked the pool.

  It was a perfect jewel of nature, and Sara just looked at it for a long moment, letting the peace of it seep into her bones.

  Cody had told her that the water would be cold and he proved to be correct. But the chill wasn't enough to prevent her from stripping off her clothes and wading out into the water. It was only hip deep at its deepest, but the current made it necessary to take care with her balance. Holding her breath, she ducked her head under the water, surfacing with a shiver. She washed her hair briskly, giving a sigh of pleasure as several days of grime floated away. Pleasant though the water felt, it was too cold to linger in, and she hurried up onto the bank, rubbing her skin dry with a thin towel.

  Once she was out of the water, the dying sun warmed her chill skin, and she didn't reach for her clothes immediately. It felt so wonderfully pagan to be standing naked in the fresh air. She stretched out her arms for a moment, arching her back and turning her face up to the light, letting her damp hair trail down her back as she luxuriated in the sh
eer pleasure of being alive.

  Everything would work out just fine. Cullen was going to be safe and sound. When the world was this beautiful, it was impossible to believe otherwise.

  ❧

  The Survivor

  Cullen blew gently on the infant flames, coaxing them to life. When they finally flickered up and caught on the fine twigs he'd layered over the bits of bark, he sat back slowly and dared to close his eyes for a moment. With his back to the granite wall behind him, he could afford to relax for just a moment.

  Over his head, the granite arched forward to provide an overhang that served to shelter the little hollow he'd found. It was still broad daylight and he had the urge to keep moving, to make the most of the light hours. But the thought was sluggish and easily pushed aside.

  His knee ached with a steady throbbing that felt as if it were tearing the joint apart. He'd bound it with a sturdy bandage, not knowing if it was the right thing to do but feeling that the damaged joint needed some support. He was so tired. Two days away from the crash and he felt as if it had been two weeks.

  He forced his eyes open and edged himself into a sitting position. Forcing his cold fingers to move slowly and steadily, he added a few more pieces of twig to the small fire, finally daring to add a couple of good-sized sticks. With the fire burning steadily, throwing a bit of warmth into the little hollow, he turned his attention to a meal.

  Lying limply on the rock beside him was a rabbit. He'd set a snare at yesterday's camp and this morning his effort had been rewarded, though he doubted if the rabbit had looked at it quite that way. He'd gutted the animal before starting on the trail, tying the carcass to his belt. He didn't want the entrails near where he was camping—they tended to draw predators. This way, he'd be long gone when nature sent in her cleanup crew.

  It didn't take long to skin and butcher the small carcass, and soon the appetizing aroma of roasting meat filled the air. But despite the exercise, fresh air and the scent of the meat, Cullen had to force himself to eat. His appetite seemed to have been left back at the crash site along with everything else. He'd brought along only those things that he deemed essential to survival and everything else had been abandoned. A fitting memorial to Bill, he thought.

  He had dried food, but there was no way of knowing how long it might have to last him. He had to supplement it as much as possible. He finished the last of the rabbit and forced himself to his feet, carrying the bones and hide as far from camp as he could manage and burying them.

  He limped heavily back to the shelter of the overhang, sinking down on the rock, biting off a curse as his knee was jarred by the movement. His leg wasn't ever going to be normal again. The damage to the joint was too great and he was probably doing still more damage with every step he took. He considered the fact that he was probably going to walk with a limp for the rest of his life and then shut the thought away. There was nothing he could do about it. And, God knows, he was lucky to be alive at all.

  He dragged the sleeping bag out and unrolled it, giving himself a bit of padding between the granite and his body. He'd gathered enough wood to keep the fire going all night. Looking out over the light snow that coated the ground, he wondered how long it would take him to walk to civilization.

  It never occurred to him that he might not make it.

  Chapter 7

  Cody's eyes were thoughtful as he guided Dancer back along the trail to camp. Their path had been smooth and easy so far, but it couldn't last that way much longer. The higher they climbed, the rougher the trails were going to get. The horses were up to it. He'd taken all of them into the high country before. All Sara would have to do was hold on to Satin and let the mare do the work.

  Sara. Just her name brought a warmth to his chest. A feeling he didn't welcome at all. She was getting too close too fast. He didn't want the feelings she brought out in him. The sexual pull he understood and could deal with. It was an itch that could either be scratched by taking her to bed, or ignored, which he could handle. But this tenderness, this desire to protect her, this need to be close to her. Those were things new in his experience. New and unwelcome.

  He shook his head as Dancer climbed up a small incline and they topped out on a rise. He had to stop thinking about her.

  His thoughts scattered in a thousand different directions and his hands tightened automatically on the reins, drawing the stallion to a halt. Below him, he could see the stream they'd been following laid out like a shining bracelet amid the faded green of the grass. It was beautiful, but it wasn't what caused his heart to pound in slow, heavy thuds.

  Beneath him, half-shadowed among the trees, was the shallow pool he'd told Sara about. If he'd thought about it, he would have assumed that she'd be back at the camp by now. Instead, she stood across the pool from where he sat on Dancer. The sun was almost down and the mountains threw long shadows across the narrow valley. But a few bright rays slipped around the hulking shoulder of the Rockies to spill onto the pool. The water glimmered gold, silver streaks marking the path of the current.

  And Sara's body shone gold.

  Cody thought he might suffocate on the rising desire that caught in his throat. The light gilded her body like a gossamer gown of palest amber. It caught on her hair, turning it to silver. As she turned, he could see the proud thrust of her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach and the shadowy triangle at the top of her thighs.

  He couldn't move, couldn't think. All he knew was that he wanted her like he'd never wanted anything else in his life. It took every ounce of self-control he had to keep from slamming his heels into Dancer's sides and riding down off the hill to sweep her across his legs and carry her away to make love to her.

  He closed his eyes, his hands shaking with need. There must be more of the untamed savage in him than he'd thought. Suddenly, he understood the appeal his ancestors had found in kidnapping a bride from another tribe. His mouth twisted ruefully as he opened his eyes. Take him away from civilization and all the savage came out in him.

  Sara had slipped on her underwear while he struggled with his impulses, and he found himself resenting the thin bands of fabric that hid her from him. She tilted her head, and for a moment he thought she looked right at him, but then she turned away to pick up her jeans. If she'd known he was watching her, she would surely have shown some reaction. Probably furious indignation, he told himself. And he couldn't blame her. He had no right to be spying on her like this. It was an invasion of her privacy.

  With an effort, he forced himself to nudge Dancer forward, and within seconds, the trees blocked the pool from sight. The stallion set a brisk pace through the trees, anxious to get back to camp and the oats that awaited him there.

  They splashed across the stream above the pool and then turned to walk alongside the water. Somehow, Cody wasn't surprised to find Sara still standing next to the pool when he got there. She had just finished tying the laces of her sneakers and she got to her feet as he came into sight. Her hair fell down her back in a shining wave, her skin was flushed and clean, and he thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

  He drew Dancer to a halt and they stared at each other for a moment. It was impossible to read the expression in her eyes, impossible to guess at what she was thinking. Dog ambled over to sniff at Cody's foot and then, assured that he was relieved of guard duty, trotted off into the gathering dusk.

  Without speaking, without taking his eyes off Sara, Cody rode the stallion forward. She watched them approach, and he thought he detected a shaken rhythm to her breathing. She didn't move even when the big horse stepped within inches of her feet. Her head was tilted back and there was a quality of challenge in her gaze.

  Silently, he held out his hand, presenting his foot for her to use as a stirrup. Sara hesitated a long, silent moment and then bent to scoop her bundled clothing up off the ground. She set her free hand in his and he felt the electric shock of the contact all the way up his arm. Her foot came down on his and he pulled her up behind him,
feeling her settle onto Dancer's back.

  He dug his heel into the stallion's side and Dancer obediently started forward. The rocking motion of the horse's gait slid Sara forward until she was pressed to his back, and Cody sucked in a breath as her arm slid around his waist, holding him for balance. Her breasts against his back seemed to burn through the fabric of their clothing.

  Sara wondered if he could feel the way her nipples hardened with his nearness. Leaning so close against his back, she could smell the faint salty tang of sweat brought out by a bard day's work. The scent was all male and amazingly provocative.

  She wanted him.

  The thought slipped into her mind not with the impact of a sudden discovery but with the quiet inevitability of something she'd known all along. She tried to shake the thought away. It was too soon. They were too different. She had never been inclined to jump into bed with a man unless she was thinking of a long-term relationship. There was no possibility of that here. Their lives lay along vastly different paths. They converged briefly at this point in time, but once Cullen was found her life would be in California, and Cody's life was here.

  But she wanted him.

  The short ride back to camp was silent. Cody pulled Dancer to a halt and slid off the stallion's back before reaching up to help Sara down. Her eyes avoided his, as if afraid of what she might read in them. He picketed the horse and then moved over to crouch in front of the tent. Sara tried not to notice the way his jeans molded to his thighs, the ripple of muscle as he leaned forward to breathe life into the fire.

  Within minutes the fire was crackling cheerfully, and Cody stood up. She could feel him looking at her, but she kept her head bent over her pack, busily rearranging the contents as if it were vitally important.

  "I'm going to wash up."

  "The water's very nice." Brilliant, Sara. Really a stunning bit of conversation. She could feel his eyes on her but she didn't look up. What if he could read in her eyes how much she wanted him? There was a part of her that wanted him to cross the few feet that separated them and lift her to her feet, pulling her into his arms.