| |
“HEY! WATCH OUT!”
The shouted warning came too late. The squeal of brakes and the skidding sound of bicycle tires on loose dirt and pebbles jarred the air. Seconds later, Lindy Matthews stared with wide, thickly lashed blue eyes at the man sprawled a few feet away from her on the narrow trail.
Everything had happened so fast. Only moments before, she’d been enjoying a peaceful late-afternoon hike along one of the many trails winding through the regional park on the outskirts of King’s Valley. She’d been thinking of nothing important, her rapt gaze focused on the mellow colors of early fall which decorated the trees and foliage. Louie, her neighbor’s bear of a St. Bernard, tugged impatiently at his leash, eager to sniff at interesting things alongside the trail. She stopped for a minute to give him time to explore, allowing the leash to stretch to its full length between them.
She wasn’t aware of anyone on the trail ahead of her until she heard a sharp, masculine voice, and looked up to see a man on a mountain bike barreling around the corner towards her. There wasn’t time to move from its rapid approach. The bike hurtled into Louie’s taut leash.
The bike stopped moving.
The man didn’t.
Lindy watched in a fascinated kind of shock as he sailed headfirst over the handlebars. The leash yanked out of her hand, and she toppled backwards. As she landed clumsily on her bottom, she witnessed the man flying through the air as if in slow-motion, his head and shoulders tucked inwards to break his fall. He hit the ground sideways with a reverberating thud that made her cringe with sympathy.
Now he lay flat on his back, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He turned his head towards her. “Are you all right?” he asked between harsh gasps of air.
Lindy took a quick inventory of her limbs. To her relief, she hadn’t fallen too hard, just awkwardly. “I’m okay,” she said, her calm voice not betraying the intensity of her relief.
The man propped himself into a sitting position, legs outstretched. He scrubbed the dirt and grit from his face before looking at her more closely. His eyes swept over her bare arms and legs in a cursory inspection before narrowing with sudden temper. “Why didn’t you watch where you were going?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
“You were blocking the trail,” he said in a seething tone. “You weren’t looking ahead of you.”
She knew he was right, but she resented his unreasonable and hostile attitude. “And you were going way too fast!”
He muttered a few not so nice words under his breath as he tugged off his bicycle helmet and tossed it heedlessly to the ground. It was almost comical the way the helmet bounced across the dirt before landing with a final death spiral at Lindy’s feet. She choked back the sudden bubble of laughter in her throat. She returned her gaze to the man and met a pair of flint-grey eyes sparking with irritation.
What a good-looking man. The incongruity of that notion at that moment tugged her mouth into a silly grin.
His eyes landed on her mouth for an instant before narrowing in a deeper scowl. “You think this is fun—oof!”
Louie, always eager to make a new friend, chose that moment to place his enormous paws on the man’s shoulders and give him a slobbering lick on the cheek.
Lindy’s burst of laughter held a note of relief. She’d forgotten Louie in the moment's confusion. Good thing the bike hadn’t hit him!
“Lady,” the man sputtered as Louie continued licking. “Call off your dog. Now.”
His threatening tone sobered her instantly. She scrambled to her feet, brushing the dirt from the back of her shorts before moving forward to grab Louie’s collar. “No, Louie,” she said firmly, pulling the animal close to her side. “He’s only being friendly,” she said in a scolding voice while she ran her hands over the dog to reassure herself he was okay. “And he doesn’t bite.”
“He doesn’t have to bite. His breath is lethal enough.” The man placed his palms on the ground and tried to push himself to his feet, only to drop back down. His mouth twisted in a grimace of pain, and his chest expanded beneath his olive-green, sweat-dampened tee shirt as he sucked in some air.
Lindy kneeled down beside him, instantly contrite. Maybe she was mostly at fault for the accident. The trail was intended for hikers, bikers and horseback riders to share. She and Louie had been hogging the entire width, and she hadn’t been paying attention. “I’m sorry,” she said. She placed a soothing hand on his right leg, just below the knee. She noticed he wore grey shorts. His bare legs were tan and nicely muscled.
He flinched as her fingers cautiously probed his leg. He looked at her hand, his eyes hooded. “Are you a doctor?” he asked tonelessly.
Her rueful smile matched her voice. “No. But I’ve spent enough time in hospitals, I probably could be one. Or at least a physical therapist.”
She removed her hand, sat back on her heels and said matter-of-factly, “Looks like you have a sprained knee. You need to put some ice on it and keep it elevated. I recommend you see a doctor to make sure it isn’t something worse. I don’t suppose you have an elastic bandage handy?”
“No,” he said with unconcealed exasperation. “You know, my knee would be fine right now if you’d had your dog heeled instead of monopolizing the trail.”
Lindy barely managed not to roll her eyes. “Louie isn’t my dog. And I rarely let him pull the leash like that. The surrounding nature distracted me.” She pointed her finger at him, almost touching his face. “And you’re the one who came tearing around the corner like you owned the trail. This trail isn’t just for bikes.”
They glowered at each other, Lindy’s flashing sky-blue eyes mirroring the sullen dislike in his metal-grey glare. Louie sat alongside them, panting cheerfully, his tail making a rhythmic swishing sound in the dust.
Why are some men so proud and stubborn? Lindy thought, seething inwardly with frustration. While she’d admitted her own fault, he obviously wouldn’t back down and admit he’d probably been at fault too. And why must he be so handsome? Somehow, that made the situation worse. She hadn’t seen him at his full height, but she could tell he was tall and broad-shouldered. He had a narrow, attractive face with a wide forehead, dark, close-cropped hair, a straight nose above a firm mouth, and gorgeous grey eyes half-concealed beneath his eyelids.
He epitomized the type of man she would’ve preferred meeting for the first time at some kind of social function where she would’ve been wearing a dreamy, flowing dress, her straight, honey-blond hair swept up in a complicated, elegant style. But, no. Today, she knew she projected the impression she didn’t give a darn how she looked. No makeup, cut-off jeans shorts, a sleeveless pink tee shirt with a frayed hem, a ratty orange baseball cap hiding the hair she hadn’t washed in two days, smelling of dog and dirt.
Oh, well. Why should she care what impression she made on him? And it was pointless being mad at him. She averted her gaze from his still-glowering but fascinating eyes, drew a steadying breath and said, “Well, as to which one of us is at fault, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”
She got to her feet and placed her hand on his arm. “Come on. I’ll help you stand up.”
He tugged his arm away. “I’ll manage.”
“Oh, don’t be such a ninny. It’s obvious you need help.”
His face took on a disconcerted expression; one dark eyebrow arched in mockery. “Ninny? I don’t think I’ve heard that word since I was five.”
“I’m surprised you’ve ever heard it. You seem to lean towards words that would’ve made my mom wash my mouth out with soap if I’d ever said them.”
She caught a barely detectable twitching of his mouth. Fleetingly, Lindy wished she could witness how his face changed when he smiled. But then his forehead grooved into a deeper frown. “You’re lucky I didn’t break my neck,” he said with a grumble.
“And you’re fortunate you didn’t break mine. You could’ve as easily hit me instead of Louie’s leash.”
Jaw set in refusal to debate her valid point, he made another stubborn attempt to stand. He rose, settling his weight on his good leg, but when he tried to walk, the bad leg buckled and he collapsed to the ground. The ensuing spate of cursing had Lindy flinching at every word.
“Quite the repertoire you have there,” she said in a demure tone.
The man growled, not looking at her as he rubbed his swollen knee.
Louie had run out of patience. He pressed against Lindy’s legs and cast her an imploring look. She unsnapped the leash from his collar. “Go on, you. We’ll be right behind.” She knew the dog wouldn’t wander too far; he always kept her in his sights. Besides, it was nearly dusk; doubtful anyone else would be on the trail this late.
She decided it wiser to say nothing further until the man calmed down. She walked over to the bicycle and propped it against a nearby boulder. It didn’t appear to have suffered any damage. She returned to the stranger and studied his bent head. She noticed now that his hair was a rich, dark brown with a few strands of silver at the temples. He looked to be somewhere in his early to mid-thirties. She admired his shoulders, the broad, rock-solid kind a girl wouldn’t mind resting her head upon. Her mouth softened at the thought.
All at once, he tilted his head back and met her eyes. It seemed to Lindy everything quietened for a moment. The leaves stopped rustling in the early evening breeze. The distant drone of highway traffic ceased. She studied his features as boldly as he examined hers.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried an underlying gruffness that stirred something deep inside her. “I told you, I don’t need any help. You can go.”
Lindy blinked rapidly and gave her head a slight shake to clear her confusing thoughts. She felt the telltale signs of a blush heating her cheeks, and fought to ignore it. She set her features in what she hoped was an uncompromising expression. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re hurt. And since this was partly my fault, I’m obligated to help you.”
He shook his head with annoyance. “Lady, I don’t want your help or your obli—”
“Well, that’s too bad. If you think I will leave you here without knowing if you’ll be all right, you have another think coming.” She held a helping hand towards him. “And don’t call me lady. My name is Lindy.”
His eyes suddenly glimmered as they flicked over her mulish expression before dropping to her outstretched hand. It seemed an eternity to Lindy before he finally emitted a loud sigh of resignation and grabbed her hand. His grip was solid, his fingers strong. She took a deep breath and tugged him upwards, disregarding the way her pulse quickened at his touch. She almost lost her balance when he finally stood fully upright, his shoulders at the same level as her eyes. He stood a good four inches taller than her own five foot seven. She arched her neck back to stare at his face. She could tell by the taut set of his mouth and the way his eyes squinted together he was in pain.
She sensed any words of sympathy would only irritate him more, so she wrapped a supporting arm around his waist in a determined manner and said in a resolute tone, “If you lean on me, I can walk you down the hill to the parking area.”
“Just take me over to my bike,” he said with an ungracious grumble. “I can use that as support.”
“Fine.” She experienced a pang of hurt at his obstinate behavior. “But I’ll walk alongside you just in case.”
“In case of what? Will we meet other women on this trail who don’t know how to control their dogs?”
“Humph. I’m leerier of men who don’t know how to control their bicycles.”
He mumbled something under his breath.
“What did you say?”
“Something that would have your mother running for the soap.”
Ah. Did a sense of humor lurk somewhere deep beneath his gruff exterior? The grim profile he presented to her made that brief notion unlikely.
When they reached his bike, he quickly disengaged himself from her arm and clutched the handlebars. He began an awkward limp down the trail. Lindy followed close behind, ready to catch him in case he lost his balance. Louie was several yards ahead of them, his ears flopping about his head as he trampled through the tall grass alongside the trail.
“I could hold on to the other side of the bike,” Lindy offered after an extended silence.
He exhaled audibly. “I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
It wasn’t easy keeping her patience with this impossible man. Every helpful word or gesture on her part he slapped aside. Male pride was one thing, but his stubborn attitude was beyond ridiculous now. She sensed being in a position that required asking for help was rare for him. He clearly resented anything that might refute his rock-solid, strong, masculine exterior. She wondered what he did for a living. She’d felt calluses on his hand. Not a desk job, she was certain. Whatever his occupation, it wouldn’t surprise her if he was the boss.
“Do you often ride your bike in this park?” she asked after a prolonged silence. Maybe conversation would take his mind off his pain.
“This is the first time I’ve been here, and it’ll probably be the last,” he replied over his shoulder, his voice cool.
“Oh? You don’t live in this area?”
“What’s with the twenty questions?”
“That was only two. I’ve lived in King’s Valley since I was three. Are you just visiting?”
“No.”
His frostiness didn’t encourage any further conversation, but Lindy stubbornly pressed onwards, hoping to learn something about this man. She wondered why she bothered. “I hope you don’t let this accident discourage you from enjoying the park. There are several excellent trails to explore, and the view overlooking the valley is beautiful. I walk here at least three times a week. Unless it’s raining. But we haven’t seen rain for a long time. Not since April, and here it’s the middle of September already. You might’ve noticed how low the water is when you rode past the pond. It’s too bad this drought has lasted so long. Now, if we get too much heavy rain this winter, we’ll have mudslides like we did ten years a—whoops!”
Focused on the trail, Lindy wasn’t aware the man had come to an abrupt halt. She barreled into him, her forehead smacking against his back. She had a brief impression of warm, solid muscle before she took a quick step backwards. She rubbed her forehead as the man angled his torso so he could look her in the eye. His teeth clenched together in an expression revealing pain and irritation.
“Lady, do you ever stop talking?”
“It’s Lindy,” she reminded him, hating the slight tremor in her voice. She squared her shoulders and gave him an admonishing glare. “And I’m simply trying to be friendly, which is more than I can say for you.”
They’d reached the crest of a steep hill. Below them lay the parking lot and the curving country road leading toward town. The man stood outlined in the setting sun, the muted orange and red streaks of light doing nothing to soften his austere features. Lindy’s heart gave a strange thump in her chest as he shook his head with exasperation. “My body feels like it’s been trampled by a stampede of horses, my head is pounding like crazy, and, to top it off, I’ll be late for my dinner date. And you wonder why I’m not being friendly?”
Louie barked at them from halfway down the hill, begging them to hurry. Lindy fought to keep a rein on her temper as she grabbed hold of the bicycle seat. This man was hopeless; no amount of friendliness would soften his attitude. “You’ll need my help on this steep part,” she said, her tone making it very clear she would not allow him to challenge her on this. “I’ve slipped here a few times.”
He considered her for a moment, his half-hooded eyes resting on the determined set of her jaw. For an instant, she thought she detected a trace of guilt in his expression. But it vanished before she could say for certain. When he finally spoke, it was in a quiet, measured tone. “Fine. Let’s go.”
It wasn’t easy, but they eventually reached the bottom of the hill with no more disasters. Louie sat by Lindy’s ancient hatchback, the brown in his shaggy coat blending in nicely with the various rusty shades of her old but dependable car. The only other vehicle in the parking lot was a shiny black BMW sedan with a bike rack on the roof. Lindy hid a sardonic smile. He would have an expensive car; it suited his disposition to a T.
He limped over to the car. She winced along with him as he flipped the bike over to remove the front tire. She observed having to put all of his weight on one leg made things tricky. “Would it help if I hold the tire steady while you do that?” she asked in a calm voice, and, when he didn’t answer, she did exactly that.
As he worked on the wheel, she couldn’t help but admire the play of his back and arm muscles beneath his tight shirt. No harm in looking, she told herself. Too bad his personality wasn’t as attractive as the rest of him.
He finished his task and straightened his back, wincing a little when he placed too much weight on his right leg. “I’ll need help to get this on the rack.”
Lindy tossed him an impish glance. “See? You do need my help.”
His eyes held a trace of weariness, as if he was tired of fighting her. “I don’t like it when women say I told you so.”
She arched her eyebrows. “Oh? Is it only women who say that?”
His mouth compressed in a taut line, and he didn’t reply as they lifted the bike onto the rack, and he secured it in place. Then he groped for the car keys in his pocket and hobbled over to the driver’s door.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you or goodbye?” Lindy asked in a dry tone.
He opened the door before flashing a brief, lukewarm smile in her direction. It was closer to a grimace. She almost laughed when he said in a mocking tone, “Thank you. And goodbye.”
He started the car, and she quickly stepped away as he reversed it out of the parking space. She caught a final glimpse of his forbidding profile through the tinted window before the car sped out of the parking lot and out of sight.
“Well, good riddance to you too, whatever your name is,” she said under her breath. She unlocked her car and pulled the front seat forward so Louie could leap into the back. He poked his head between the front seats and licked her face as she got in. She scratched his head absently. “I hope he has a miserable time on his dinner date. He shouldn’t be going out tonight. He needs to keep that knee iced and elevated. That’s one impossibly proud man, Louie-boy. And so rude. I don’t care if I never see him again.”
Louie grinned. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Think what you like, Louie. But I really don’t!”