TARA HUMMED WHILE SHE stirred a pot of stew over the campfire. It didn’t smell bad—fresh air and excitement added savor. The food would get less inspiring once the fresh stuff was used up and freeze-dried took over, but Tara had subsisted on far less when needed. Heck, she had a week’s worth of food in her pack alone, just with the bags of trail mix she’d brought. With the supplies they’d brought in on the pack horses, they could stay for a couple of months.
“This thing looks ridiculous,” Walt proclaimed.
She glanced over to where he was seated in the bright blue plastic air chair she’d brought...though she hadn’t told him about it until they’d arrived.
“It looks better with the cloth thrown over it.”
“Yeah, well, I guess it’s more comfortable than a rock,” Walt acknowledged. He’d snorted in disgust upon first seeing it, but when she’d convinced him to give it a try, his attitude had shifted. It had taken even less convincing for him to use the raised air bed she’d sneaked onto one of the pack horses.
His face had been drawn and pale when they’d arrived the previous afternoon, and she’d wondered if he regretted the trip. But his determination while setting up camp had convinced her otherwise. Then he’d introduced her to a pool fed by both hot and cold springs that was sheer heaven; the ache in their muscles had melted away in the swirling mineral water.
“You should have brought a chair for yourself,” he said. “That way we could have a proper living room.”
She chuckled.
They had spent the morning searching for alluvial deposits. Tara’s research had indicated those would be the most likely places to find the gems. Shortly before noon they had staked out a place to dig and then returned to camp to have lunch.
“We should get started right after we eat,” Walt told her. “Don’t want to waste these long days.”
“Nope.”
She handed him a bowl and sat on a nearby log with her own.
“Not bad,” he said. “Is there a French spin to it?”
“Actually, it’s the way an acquaintance in Japan makes her stew.”
Once they’d finished eating, Tara did the dishes at one of the hot springs and returned to the campsite. Walt was asleep and she read a book, waiting until he woke naturally.
An hour later he shook himself and yawned. “You shouldn’t have let me nod off, but at least this satisfies our bargain for the day.”
Tara eyed him. While making plans for the trip, she’d asked him to agree to a nap each afternoon, or she wouldn’t go. She suspected he was secretly relieved about the deal they’d struck—he could preserve his pride and still get the rest he needed.
“It wasn’t long, but I guess it’ll do. Ready to go prospecting?”
“I’ve been ready since I was a kid listening to Granddad tell his father’s story.”
Suddenly there were sounds in the distance of heavy animals moving through brush. Walt stood and grabbed his rifle, swinging it to his shoulder with the ease of long practice. Tara had been surprised to see the weapon in their supplies, but he’d explained it was a precaution, in case they encountered a bear or mountain lion. The idea of having to kill such a magnificent creature horrified her, but he claimed it was mostly to scare them off.
Tensely, they waited. A minute later they saw a horse and rider, followed by a pack horse on a lead, coming through a sparsely wooded section to the southeast of them.
It was Josh.
“Holy cow, kid,” Walt grumbled when Josh got closer, lowering his rifle. “It isn’t safe to creep up on a man that way.”
“I was hardly creeping,” Josh retorted. “You’ve had me in your sights for over a hundred feet.”
“What are you doing here?” Walt demanded.
“What do you think? I thought you had better sense than to pull a stunt like this.”
“I’m a grown man, not a senile fool. I made the choice and I’m the one who has to live with it.”
Josh looked at Tara, his eyes sparking in disgust. “I can’t believe you, either.”
The injustice of it infuriated Tara. She and Walt had taken careful precautions, and they weren’t neophytes when it came to living in the rough. Josh knew that, yet he was treating her like an idiot and Walt like a senile old man who couldn’t be trusted.
“Apparently it has escaped your notice, Mr. McGregor, but we’re perfectly safe in a comfortable campsite,” she retorted.
His jaw tightened as he turned back to his grandfather. “We’ll head down the mountain in the morning. I just hope Mom won’t hear about this and worry herself sick.”
“Sarah has already heard about it.” Walt’s mouth curved in a devilish smile. “I called her before we left and explained what we were doing.”
Josh’s eyes widened. “She didn’t try to stop you?”
“My daughter knows better than that. And by the way, I wasn’t asking for her permission. I was just letting her know. I won’t be treated like a child. I’m staying here until I’m ready to leave. Right, Tara?”
She grinned. “Absolutely.”
As Walt limped out of the clearing with a load of their prospecting equipment, Tara resisted the temptation to thumb her nose at Josh.
“Tara, would you please—”
“I’m not doing anything except digging for sapphires,” she interrupted. Grabbing two shovels and the buckets, she walked away, as well.
Josh had come to fetch them home?
What a jackass.
* * *
JOSH WATCHED TARA disappear after his grandfather, fighting the sensation that his entire world was standing on its ear. His mother had been told about this crazy stunt and done nothing about it?
Had everyone in his life lost their freaking minds?
With a sigh, he glanced around the campsite. He was relieved to see a raised air bed, presumably for his grandfather’s use. The lumpy thing on one side confused him until he investigated. A blow-up chair? It looked ridiculous, but it was probably more comfortable for Walt.
Josh sighed and unloaded his gear. They couldn’t leave before morning, anyway. Packing up would take time, and it wasn’t safe to travel down the hills at night, even with experienced mounts.
He tethered Lightfoot and his pack horse on long leads so they could graze in the lush grass with the other animals. Walt and Tara’s horses were spread out in an open meadow, also tethered, though it was unlikely that any horse Walt had raised would stray. They loved him too much.
Josh laid out his own bedroll on a tarp and headed in the direction the other two had taken. He swiftly covered the ground and found them using shovels to move dirt and rocks, stopping occasionally to examine a stone.
“Have you found the mother lode yet?” he asked.
Tara gave him a chilly look while his grandfather rolled his eyes.
He had to admit they’d organized their search. They were steadily shoveling dirt into small buckets, and once one was full, his grandfather would carry it, dumping the contents in a heap near a creek some forty feet away.
At first Josh was outraged that Tara was letting Walt carry the loaded buckets, only to realize it was an easier task than continually bending and digging.
“Why are you moving the debris so far away?” he asked.
“Because it isn’t debris the way you think.” Tara took a swallow of water from her canteen. “Sapphires can be found in alluvial deposits—that means gravel or sediment deposited when a river slows down,” she said in an exaggerated, condescending tone.
The corners of Josh’s mouth twitched as Walt laughed and slapped his leg, no doubt recognizing payback for the times his grandson had acted as if Tara didn’t know a cow from a hole in the ground.
“Anyway, you have to wash the gravel and check for gemstones,” she continued. “Walt built sieves, boxes with screens on the bottom, to make it easier.”
Tara dug the tip of her shovel into the ground again. In the office she’d worn silk suits; at the dance, she’d been sexy and alluring in a dress that had hugged her figure. Now she’d chosen a T-shirt and work jeans. They were snug, with worn patches across her bottom and knees, and yet she managed to look like a fashion model pretending to dig in the ground during a photo shoot.
Unable to bear watching the bending of her hips and the flexing of her shirt against her breasts, Josh grabbed one of the shovels. Tara’s curves had given him many sleepless nights and would undoubtedly do so again tonight.
“All right, we’ll look for sapphires this afternoon,” he announced. “That way you’ll see it’s hopeless, backbreaking work.”
Walt grunted and took another pail toward the debris pile while, unbelievably, Tara stuck her tongue out.
“Stop that,” Josh hissed.
“Why not? You’re treating us both like children.”
He felt a muscle tick in his jaw. “That isn’t true.”
“It’s all a question of perspective.” She wiped her damp forehead. “Why does this bother you so much? I understand wanting to protect your grandfather, but you’re worse than everyone else. No one else tried to rescue him from the dance floor or tell him not to go riding.”
Josh opened his mouth, but closed it as Walt returned with the empty bucket, and collected the one Tara had finished filling. When he was out of earshot again, Josh leaned forward. “I’m the one living on the ranch and watching what Grandpa does every day, all right?”
She rested her chin on the end of the shovel, her eyes curiously compassionate. “He also gave you the Boxing N. So now you feel even more responsible in case something happens. Do you feel guilty that you’re young and capable and now own the ranch that means so much to him?”
“Something like that,” Josh muttered, startled by Tara’s perception.
“Well, I’ve never been in your position, but I think everyone has to accept risks if they’re going to have the life they want.”
Over by the creek, Walt dumped some of the debris on one of his homemade sieves and poured water over it.
Josh watched moodily.
Quality of life was important, but a fruitless search for sapphires wasn’t the only way to have it.
“What do you think is going to happen when his hopes are crushed?” he asked. “Or if he falls? Grandpa is lucky to still have that leg, and who knows what would happen if he breaks it again.”
“Walt knows the risks,” Tara said, just as softly. “I thought it would just be an afternoon when I suggested going. Then he talked about heading out with pack horses and said he’d do it alone if I didn’t go with him.”
Pain thumped through Josh’s temples. He shouldn’t have blamed Tara. They might have knocked heads since her arrival in Montana, but she had been good for his grandfather. Besides, while she might have spoken first about hunting for gems, Grandpa would probably have thought of it sooner or later.
“Have you been able to discuss a pain-management program with him?” Josh asked.
“Yes. Walt called it nonsense.”
“But in more colorful terms, right?”
Tara grinned wryly. “Definitely. He’s very strong willed—how else do you think he’s gotten this far?”
“Riding into the mountains couldn’t have been easy in his condition,” Josh conceded.
She shook her head. “It’s more than that. I’ve never been in daily, unremitting pain, so I can only guess, but getting up each morning and facing everything he feels inside must take more strength than most people possess.”
They both fell silent as Walt returned for another bucket.
“Find anything interesting?” Tara asked, gesturing toward the water.
“Not yet. Take a break from digging and we’ll go through more together.”
“Okay.”
Josh grabbed the second bucket, concerned his grandfather would try carrying two loads at once. He hated to hear Walt’s breathing become heavier just from carrying a small bucket of soil. Despite the raised air bed, he would have a rough night. Surely he would be eager to go home soon.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Josh woke to the scent of food cooking. After a night in the open air, he was starving. He rolled over to see Tara bending over a grill on the fire.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. How dare she look so fresh and energetic?
Dragging himself to his feet, he stumbled toward the fire. “Any coffee?”
She nodded. “It’s been a while since I brewed a pot over a campfire, but Walt says it tastes all right.”
“May I have a cup?”
She sent him a wry glance. “I’m tempted to refuse, but I’ll be charitable. Sugar and powdered cream are in those containers.”
Grateful, Josh accepted a battered enamel mug filled with steaming coffee. He flavored it the way he liked and drank quickly; the caffeine couldn’t hit his system fast enough.
Walt returned to camp and hung a small towel on a tree branch. His hair was damp and he was clean shaven.
“Good morning,” Josh told him.
“It’s good so long as you understand I’m not leaving until I’m ready.”
“This has to be hard on you. One night and I feel fifty years older.”
“Then you should have brought a comfortable place to sleep and sit,” Walt retorted, lowering himself into the inflated chair.
Tara snickered.
“We only have two plates,” she said, handing Josh the frying pan, “so you’ll need to eat breakfast out of that. Luckily, we have an extra fork, so you won’t be doing the caveman thing with your fingers.”
She passed a plate to Walt and began eating herself.
Josh forked up a mouthful and chewed thoughtfully. It was tasty, especially for scrambled powdered eggs. Tara had added an herb, along with cheese, making them far more palatable than they might have been.
“How did you learn to cook over a fire?” he asked.
“I told you I’ve camped before.”
True, but Josh wasn’t sure he’d believed her. She was so sophisticated that roughing it didn’t fit. Still, the ability to turn out a delectable breakfast in primitive conditions seemed proof enough. He insisted on joining her at the hot spring to wash their dishes, and when they returned, Grandpa was on his feet, leaning on a shovel.
“Have a good ride down the mountain, son,” Walt told him. “I’ll see you when we get back.”
“But—”
“No buts. Tara, are you ready?”
“Sure thing. I’ll just get my gloves.”
“Wait,” Josh said as they started toward their dig site. “I’m not going until you do, Grandpa. I won’t leave the two of you alone on the mountain. It isn’t safe.”
“In that case...” Walt tossed him the shovel. “You’ll have to help.”
Josh felt helpless as they both grinned at him. But it couldn’t be long before they gave up. They’d run out of food—he wasn’t going to confess that he’d brought a supply with him—and be ready to head down.
Almost as if his grandfather had read his mind, Walt pointed upward.
“See that?” he asked. “We brought plenty, even for an uninvited third wheel. It’s really something how much of that freeze-dried stuff fits on a few pack horses.”
Suspended where he hadn’t noticed it before, Josh saw three enormous supply caches in nets, suspended on ropes to keep them safe from animals.
Damn, the old guy was really good.
* * *
LAUREN HURRIED DOWN to the café for lunch. She’d phoned in an order earlier to save time. They always offered to deliver to the clinic, but she liked going out; even a little exercise helped freshen her mind for the rest of the day.
Carl was there when she arrived. Lately it seemed as if she kept running into him. In the week since Tara had gone on her sapphire hunt, Lauren had seen Carl at least four times, though not for long and he hadn’t asked her for a date or mentioned the kiss they’d shared. It was both disappointing and a relief.
“Hi, Carl,” she said, determined not to get imaginative. Schuyler was a small town, unlike Los Angeles. It was unusual to run into someone you knew while shopping in LA. Here, she encountered friends and acquaintances all the time.
“Hey, Lauren. How is everything at the clinic?”
“Great. Another physician’s assistant is starting next month.”
“Does that mean you won’t have to work so many hours?”
“Maybe, but they’re also thinking of expanding to being open every Saturday, instead of once a month.”
“I’m sure the town would be grateful.”
“Yes. The clinic I worked at in Los Angeles was open seven days a week and until ten every night. I know those hours wouldn’t be practical here, but Saturdays would be nice.”
He nodded. “Is Tara back from her camping trip yet?”
With a hollow sensation in her stomach, Lauren wondered if he’d decided to ask her sister out for a date. After all, he was obviously interested in forming a relationship with someone. It would be nice for Tara—Carl was a great guy—yet she felt a sharp ache at the possibility.
“No, she’s still gone.” Lauren checked her watch. “Sorry, I’d better get to my lunch.”
“Right.”
Betty called to Carl as he headed for the door. “Don’t forget your food, Sheriff.” She handed him a bag and a covered cup.
He looked embarrassed. “Thanks.”
Lauren wondered about it as she ate her salad. Carl had ordered takeout but had almost left empty-handed, though he must have prepaid his order. The other day he’d gone into the supermarket but hadn’t been carrying any groceries when he left. Of course, he could have purchased something small enough to fit in his pocket, but it still seemed strange.
She sighed, wishing there was someone she could talk to about Carl. But Emily hadn’t been feeling well, so she’d been staying home with her feet up. Bothering her with this was out of the question. And Tara wasn’t available.
Lauren ate, paying little attention to the food.
Except for their hot kiss at the Boxing N dance, Carl had been friendly, nothing more. She was partially responsible for the embrace and didn’t blame him for being reserved since then. After all, she’d told him to find someone else, only to turn around and kiss him a few days later.
Now they kept running into each other and it didn’t feel completely accidental. Maybe she just wanted to believe there was something more to the casual encounters.
* * *
A WEEK AFTER arriving in the high country, Tara was torn between wishing Josh would disappear...and being secretly glad he was there. She still found him annoying and disliked being attracted to the big jerk, but if there was a crisis with Walt, having a strong man available would be handy.
Josh was hard to read. He plainly hadn’t changed his mind about the prospecting trip, but he’d stopped saying much about it. Of course, apart from worrying about his grandfather’s health, he was probably frustrated about being away from the ranch. His satellite phone helped him stay in contact with his new foreman, but it couldn’t be the same as actually being there.
On the eighth morning, she was walking back from the spring when she overheard Josh talking on the phone.
“...that’s right, upgrading the herd will have to wait till next year...yeah, I’m sorry, too...”
At that point Josh looked up, and Tara felt her face get hot. She hadn’t deliberately listened, though he probably wouldn’t believe her. She hurried on, only to have him catch up within a few steps.
“I meant to tell you before, you’re welcome to call your sister whenever you want,” he offered, rather than accusing her of eavesdropping.
“That would be nice, mostly to let her know everything is okay. I love the solar unit you brought to charge the phone battery.”
“Don’t say that to Grandpa... You know how he feels about modern folderol.”
Tara chuckled. “Walt and I have agreed to disagree about technology. It must be hard for someone in his generation, trying to hang on to the old ways of ranching, wondering if accepting anything new means something else is being lost.”
“The values are the same as they used to be, even though ranching has changed. Maybe it’s old-fashioned, but there’s a code we follow, and the basics haven’t changed since the Nelsons and McGregors settled in Montana.”
Tara frowned thoughtfully. She loved cities and technology, but there was something to be said for the old ways. As frustrating as Josh might be, she didn’t doubt he was an honorable man.
Back at the campsite, her gaze shifted between Walt and his grandson. She hated admitting it, but Josh would probably do a better job running the Boxing N than his grandfather. Still, surely they could work out a compromise for the benefit of everyone.
As for Walt, he was just as difficult to read as his grandson. He appeared amused at times and withdrawn at other moments. Actually, being withdrawn wasn’t unusual for Walt, and she suspected those were times he was thinking about Evelyn. But the sly humor he seemed to find in the current situation was puzzling. Perhaps it was simply an aspect of his personality that was beginning to emerge again.
* * *
LATER THAT DAY Josh watched his grandfather leave the dig site and return to the campsite.
“Too stubborn to admit how hard this is on him,” he muttered. “You’re both too stubborn.”
Tara’s nerves tightened. “For your information, we agreed that he’d rest every afternoon. I didn’t tell you about it because I hoped you’d recognize he was being sensible. Yet all you see is frailty.”
Josh instantly looked contrite. “I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “How many times will you have to say that before you mean it? Do you honestly believe I don’t care what happens to him?”
“I know you care. In fact, I’ve been wondering if...well, I know you grew up in foster homes and never had a dad or a grandfather.”
Tara blinked. Josh was suggesting that Walt had become a father figure to her...?
“Walt is a great guy,” she said slowly, “but he isn’t what I used to imagine a father would be like.”
“Which was?”
“A cross between Superman, St. Francis of Assisi and Abraham Lincoln.”
“Ah, inhuman strength tempered by gentle wisdom.”
“More or less. Anyway, I’ve always kept my distance from anyone who might embody a realistic parental image.”
Jock cocked his head, looking curious. “Why?”
“I’m an adult, and it isn’t fair to expect another person to fill that role. My mother and father died when I was a baby. That’s just the way it is.”
“You deserved parents. All kids do.”
“Sure, but not everyone gets them.” She stopped and thought for a while. “Walt isn’t a father figure, but I admit he crept under my defenses when I wasn’t looking. That’s unusual for me, but I don’t mind. Now I have both Lauren and Walt to care about when I leave.”
“You’ve never had that before?” Josh asked, sounding shocked.
“No. Every time I started letting myself care about a foster family, I got bounced somewhere new, so I learned it’s safer to keep a distance. It taught me to be tough, which is helpful in today’s world.”
It could also be lonely, but that wasn’t his business.
“How does Lauren fit into this?”
She shrugged. “I’m still figuring out what it means to have a sister.”
“Maybe meeting her helped you open up to my grandfather.”
Tara laughed. “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”
“Just making conversation.”
Tara shrugged and bent over her shovel, thinking Josh’s guesses could be closer to the target than he might think.
They’d fallen into a pattern while Walt was resting—they both dug, then sifted through stones and rocks in the sieve boxes. Then they took turns carrying the debris far enough away to prevent it from polluting the waterway more than necessary.
Josh carefully examined a rock he found in the creek bed and then showed it to her. The stone was translucent, with streaks of rust brown and black ribbons floating through its depths. Beautiful, but not the sapphire color she kept hoping to see.
“It’s Montana agate,” he explained. “They’re great for rock tumbling, which is a process for polishing stones. A motor spins a barrel around, with a special grit that slowly takes off the rough outer layers.”
“That’s nice, but I hope you’re concentrating on gems, not rocks in general.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know, except that it seems to be your lifestyle, to concentrate on some things and ignore the rest.”
He snorted, sounding remarkably like his grandfather. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Probably,” Tara agreed, unsure why she’d said it in the first place. Value was in the eye of the beholder, so maybe Josh just valued things differently than other people. Perhaps a beautiful agate was more important to him than a sapphire.
Still, people made mistakes. The Boxing N had consumed Walt. It didn’t mean he’d ignored Evelyn—they’d obviously had a deep and loving relationship—but now he was filled with regret that he hadn’t put her first.
Tara handed the agate back to Josh. His fingers brushed hers, sending an electric tingle up her arm.
Gulping, she took an empty bucket to fill. The only reason she was having trouble concentrating was because she hadn’t expected Josh to be part of the trip into the mountains. It was high time to figure out the best way to deal with his presence.