Chapter Seventeen

Day 10

Whether he liked it or not, Storm was on his own now, staying at a cheap motel outside Fort Collins, Colorado. Last night, he’d dreamt about his daughter. She’d been a little older, maybe ten, riding a white horse.

While he watched her ascend a hill, Harper turned to wave. All around lay acres of farmland, ripe and green. Colleen approached and took hold of his hand. Even though he was lost in a dream, she felt solid and real. He sensed an intense familiarity, like the farm, Harper, Colleen, and him were all pieces which belonged together.

Ridiculous notion. He scolded himself as he loaded his pack into the back of the car. But was it really? After the competition was over, and they were back in Liberty Ridge, how would their relationship transform? He and Colleen started out as friends then grew to be enemies. They’d grown apart with age and distance. Now, he found himself forced together with her, for better or worse. Suddenly, anxiety burst in his gut. He wanted to finish this competition and get home—buy his land, start his farm, and get custody of his daughter.

What about Colleen? Could he win her heart in the process? Or would they be destined to stay forces always working against one another?

On his way out of the motel, he made a few inquiries about the clue. The guy at the motel’s front desk had no idea what—Grow wings and fly over the Rockies—meant. Once he got closer to Denver, he’d have to ask someone else.

The drive into Denver lasted a little over an hour. Not too much time to think about Colleen but long enough to start missing her. He stopped at a gas station off the freeway. After making the rounds to all the store workers, he was stopped by an elderly woman.

“You want the Air and Space Museum.” She pulled out a tourist brochure from the rack by the front door. “They call it Wings over the Rockies.”

Jackpot! “You’re an angel. Thank you.” Storm kissed her soft cheek. Now, how did he get there? He’d never missed the convenience of his cell phone more. After purchasing a map of Denver, he charted the fastest route. He arrived at the front door at seven-thirty am. Unfortunately, the doors were locked. The sign of the museum stating they opened at ten made his heart sink. Every time he got ahead, something halted his progress. He kicked a concrete planter and earned a stubbed toe in the process.

The cold weather didn’t stop him from holding his place at the front of the line to get inside. As he waited, he watched with growing frustration as other contestants arrived. With the timing of the challenges ensuring delays, he’d never get a good lead, which burned his temper. He needed to develop a strategy to gain on the pack and stay ahead. Coming in second place would not be enough—not for the size of his dreams.

****

As usual, Colleen researched the night before. She knew the Air and Space Museum didn’t open until ten am, so she didn’t rush. She knew exactly where to go and had an easy time finding the next stop. She’d even borrowed a cell phone with WI-FI from a friendly teenager at a fast food restaurant and pulled up an interior map of the museum, and then memorized the path to the X-Wing fighter.

When she arrived, she noticed Storm sitting in front of the closed doors—arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face. “Good morning.” She got in line. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Too long,” he mumbled. “So much for my lead.”

“This building is big. You still might be first out the door.” Not likely, but she wanted to boost his spirits.

Storm narrowed his eyes. “You know where to go once we get inside. Don’t you?”

She turned away her head. Sorry, buddy. I’m not giving up my secrets. Not even for you. A short, guilty spell had her second guessing her unwillingness to help. She brushed it off, reminding herself of the veterans needing her help—the only reason she competed in a crazy reality TV show.

A tall man finally appeared on the other side of the doors and unlocked the entrance. Everyone made a mad dash inside. While the other ten contestants scrambled with maps, Colleen slipped away. When she heard the sound of footsteps behind her, she didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know who followed. After a power walk that left her short of breath, she found the replica X-Wing fighter and grabbed the envelope.

Hang on tight. The Taos County Fairgrounds is your destination. A very angry bull is the key to unlocking the next clue.

Her stomach lurched.

Please, not bull riding.

“Sweet,” Storm hollered. “I bet we are going bull riding in Taos.”

Instead of celebrating with Storm, she wanted to cry. Watching a sexy cowboy ride a kicking bull was one thing. Riding one herself while hanging on for her life was another. She caravanned with Storm to Taos. Why not? Plus, the security of seeing Storm in her rearview mirror helped ease some of her fears.

They pulled into the Taos County Fairgrounds around three-thirty pm. Except for several trucks and livestock trailers that surrounded a white, metal fence, the place was empty. Through the bars, Colleen could make out the undeniable shape of cattle. Her stomach twisted into a slip knot. This challenge was it—the end—the day she’d die.

****

As they walked toward the pen, Storm watched Colleen’s face pale.

“I’m going to die,” she said with a crack in her voice.

“Maybe get bruised up a bit but you’ll survive.” Not very reassuring but the best he could come up with on the spot.

“You’re not helping.” Colleen leaned against the fence, resting one foot on the lowest rung. “I’ll go first because if I don’t, I’ll get seriously sick.”

“Don’t toss your cookies on my shoes.” He stepped away. “Promise you’ll wait once you’re done? You can watch me set a new world record.”

She set a hand on her hip and laughed. “What…the world record for the shortest ride?”

“I bet I stay on longer, princess.”

Straightening her spine, she poked a finger at his chest. “You’re on. Loser does the winner’s laundry at the next Time-Out stop.”

They shook hands, and Colleen strode over toward the cowboys to get geared up.

Storm stood off to the side and observed. Colleen’s wide blue eyes were filled with either excitement or fear, or maybe a combination of both. She looked fierce underneath the helmet and mask, and her gaze stayed fixed on the bull being led into the chute.

While walking toward the platform, she turned and smiled.

His common sense was flooded with an overwhelming desire to hold her close and provide comfort. Every day, she’d done something that totally amazed him. A stunning realization forced him to physically hang on to the pen rail for support. The truth hit as strong as a wrecking ball and as softly as the leaf of a lamb’s ear plant. After all this time, his heart had stayed loyal to Colleen. He had never stopped loving her.

****

Colleen couldn’t stop her legs from quaking as they wrapped around the wide body of the bull.

The cowboys promised the animal was relatively tame.

If she followed their instructions, she wouldn’t get hurt. Yeah, right. At that moment, she felt as safe as a seal swimming with sharks. She harnessed all the adrenaline pumping through her veins, sending it to her arms and hands. She’d need the strength to hold on for as long as possible, because she had to beat Storm.

Three cameramen, along with the camera strapped on her helmet, were ready to capture her terror for the world to witness. Underneath her body, the bull shifted and grunted. Its foul odor fueled her nausea.

A cowboy on her right tightened the rope around the bull’s stomach then wrapped it around her gloved right hand.

Sticky rosin coating kept the rope from sliding out of her grasp.

“You got this.” The cowboy tipped his black Stetson and winked.

She forced back the tears threatening to break free. Time to put up or shut up. “Let’s do it.”

In response to the nod of her head, they opened the chute door.

The entire ride passed in a blur. The beast underneath her bucked, kicked, and shook its head, but she refused to let go of the rope. The bull gave a huge leap, sending her flying through the air. She landed on packed dirt. All the air exited her lungs with a humph, and she lay stuck on her back like a beetle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a rodeo clown chase the bull. The world around her spun. Someone took her hand and pulled her back onto her feet. The ground beneath her swayed. Somehow, she weaved her way back to the fence and crawled through to the other side then collapsed into Storm’s embrace.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Good job, princess. Eight seconds. That time will be hard to beat.” Storm unhooked her helmet and slid it off her damp hair.

He kissed her tenderly on her forehead, and she wished he’d move his lips a little lower. “Thanks.” She reluctantly stepped away. “You better hurry up and take your turn. I heard another contestant was already here. Right now, we’re numbers two and three.”

Storm nodded then strode over to the cowboys. “Let’s ride.”

She gripped the rail to steady herself. Exhilaration replaced her earlier fear. What a rush! She couldn’t believe she’d actually ridden a real bull and stayed on for longer than a millisecond.

She watched Storm get the same training session—Bull Riding 101. As he walked over to the shoot, he moved with a distinct swagger she classified as male pride. Wouldn’t want to look scared in front of the other guys. After all, they were real cowboys—men who breathed life into women’s fantasies. Big hats and even bigger belt buckles. Before turning her attention back to Storm, Colleen sighed.

He climbed on top of the bull.

From what she could see, he struggled to get a good hold on the rope.

Finally, the chute opened, and the bull took off. It kicked once, and then twice.

Storm went flying like a clumsy trapeze artist. His body hit the ground with an audible thud. He rolled over and groaned.

Watching from the other side of the fence, she cringed. A billowing dust cloud drifted her way, along with the sound of Storm’s cursing.

Looks like I just won myself a laundry maid.

“Two seconds,” the cowboy holding a stopwatch called out. “No shame, though. My first ride lasted less than that.”

Storm eased upright and hobbled toward her. “The stupid rope slipped right out of my hands. They set me up.”

“Oh no, you don’t. You lost fair and square.” She wagged a finger.

His scowl cracked to a grin. “I look forward to washing your undies.”

Warmth crept up Colleen’s neck and onto her face. “They’re recording us, don’t forget.”

“I didn’t. Just feeding the beast, so to speak.” He winked. “Why do you think they cast us? They knew we had a history.”

“I doubt anyone back home thought we’d end up working as a team. Maybe murdering each other, sure. They’ll be shocked when they watch the show.” Would they ever. She could just picture all the people in Liberty Ridge witnessing Storm and Colleen grow closer with each episode.

An older man wearing overalls covered in dust handed them the next clue.

Storm opened his envelope. “Let’s see what torture awaits us.”

****

The New Mexico flag is decorated with the Zia sun symbol. This symbol’s home is your destination. Purchase a piece of handcrafted pottery from a local artisan. The pottery must display the Zia sun symbol.

While Colleen ran to her car, Storm was left scratching his head, confused by the clue. He cursed under his breath. She took off on him. Which, he guessed, would only be fair. He’d left her behind more times than he could count. His frustration turned to shock when she strode back, holding a thick book.

“My little secret.” Grinning, she cracked open the book. “Let’s look at the New Mexico tourist section and see if we can’t figure out this clue.”

So, a tourist book was her super power. No hocus pocus—only a smart understanding of the phrase “always be prepared.” As she thumbed through the worn pages, he peeked over her shoulder. Even in grade school, she’d been a smarty-pants.

“Here.” She pointed to a tiny dot on the map. “The Zia Pueblo is a little north of Albuquerque.”

His gaze followed her finger.

“I don’t know if we’ll make it by curfew,” Colleen said. “Depends if the terrain is smooth or hilly. Once we’re there, we still have to buy pottery. What do you think?” Colleen’s blue eyes peered upward. “Should we push it or find a place close by to stay the night?”

“I want to do as much as possible today. If we wait, we run the risk of falling behind.”

“But what if curfew comes with no hotel in sight? We’ll get a time penalty tomorrow.”

He wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure, but his gut told him to push on. “Let’s drive to the Pueblo. Is a Safe House nearby?”

“No.” Colleen blew out a breath and combed back her bangs with her fingers. “We’d need to find a motel.”

“Let’s go.” His jaw clenched as he took her arm. “We’re wasting time.” Storm drove in the lead, and Colleen followed. He pushed the speed limit. As he drove past the entrance sign for the Pueblo, he glanced at the clock in his car. Thirty minutes until curfew. They had to act fast.

The Zia Pueblo blended seamlessly into the rocky landscape. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he would have missed the main road leading in. Storm parked next to an adobe building with the Zia sun symbol attached to the exterior wall.

Two Zia Pueblo natives greeted them.

After a warm welcome, he and Colleen were escorted to a covered area displaying many beautiful pieces of pottery. Each piece was uniquely crafted and decorated, and all possessed a deep, rich red color. One of the artisans explained the color was a result of the special clay found in the region.

After a brief search, Storm picked out a jar to purchase. The piece had two large Zia sun symbols—the image of a roadrunner decorated the center of each sun. He glanced over to find Colleen still shopping. “Come on. Time to get moving.”

She finished her conversation with the artisan and paid for the earthen jar. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Storm checked the time. He should have listened and not pushed their luck. Too late now to second guess. Annoyance and anger sent his heart beating at an unnaturally rapid pace. He couldn’t risk a time penalty and fall behind. Not now, after he’d come so far

****

By the time she’d purchased her pottery, Colleen fretted, her optimism out of gas. “We’ll never find a hotel in time.” She stood by the open door of her car.

The orange globe of the sun dipped low, hovering just above the horizon. Night animals yipped, ready for their chance to rule the desert.

Storm scowled. “Just drive. I’ll follow you. Stop at the first place you see. I don’t care how seedy it is.”

Colleen drove along the dusty road and passed a beautiful whitewashed church she missed entering the Pueblo. Other than the church, most of the other buildings looked the same. She couldn’t make out any other landmarks to help guide her back to the freeway. Unlit street signs were her only direction. Most intersections didn’t even have signs. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. How in the world did she get back to the highway?

Storm honked from behind.

She pulled over. As he approached, she rolled down her window.

“We’ve been driving around in circles for the past ten minutes,” he said. “Do you know where you’re going?”

Flustered, she reached for the map of New Mexico. “I’m sorry. I thought we were heading toward the freeway.”

Storm kicked at the tires. “Ugh. I’ll find someone and ask directions. We’ve wasted enough time.” He walked along the gravel shoulder about a hundred feet until he waved down a passing truck.

The driver gestured with his hands.

Storm ran back to his car. “Follow me.” He performed a U-turn on the road and took off.

She stepped hard on the gas, trying not to lose him. By the time she got back on the freeway, Colleen knew they wouldn’t meet curfew. They were still too far out in the sparsely populated desert. But as the night sky opened above, she sighed, her stress evaporating. From behind the windshield, she soaked in the breathtaking view. Without the interference of city lights, a bounty of stars burst forth through the blackness. For a moment, she forgot about the competition, her worry over raising money to start her retreat, and her conflicted feelings about Storm. She enjoyed the peace. Tomorrow would be the start of another day’s problems. She wouldn’t let those worries bother her—at least not for tonight.

Storm found a little motel around eight-thirty and pulled in.

She followed.

Today’s cameraman handed her a note, stating they were both penalized with a two-and-a-half hour delay tomorrow morning.

Both she and Storm checked into the motel, and the college-age woman behind the desk handed them each key-cards to their separate rooms.

Without a word, Storm marched away.

Guilt bubbled inside over becoming lost at the Pueblo. In her opinion, though, they never had a chance at reaching a hotel by curfew. Colleen entered her room and tossed her pack on the bed. “I’m so happy to see you.” She flopped down on top of the burgundy bedcover and laid back. A knock sounded on her door, and then it swung open. Lesson learned. Next time, lock your door.

Storm entered. “After today, we’re both out of the competition.” His face flushed red.

His dark mood was a perfect manifestation of his name. “Aren’t you being a tad overdramatic?” She was in no mood. After getting into a sitting position, she tipped her chin to meet his gaze. “We weren’t eliminated, just delayed.”

“You should have admitted sooner you were turned around.” He towered over her.

Her temper rose, ready to clash with his. “You were the one who insisted we push on and go to the Pueblo tonight.” She stood and jabbed a finger into his chest.

Storm took a step in retreat. “I remember, but we wouldn’t have missed curfew if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Taking a step toward him, she placed her hands on her hips. “You have all the answers, don’t you?”

Storm moved fast, trapping Colleen between his body and the wall. “I trusted you, which might be a mistake. I should have kept with my first instinct to do this competition alone.”

“Fine.” She set her palms on his chest and pushed. “Honestly, I don’t trust you either. We’re both playing to win, but I would never do anything purposely to hurt you. Unlike you, who loves watching me suffer.”

He blinked. “That’s not true. I don’t want you to suffer.”

She would not be drawn in by his softened tone and fooled. Storm needed to win at any cost—even using her to get ahead. “Sure you do. You’ve even told me as much.” Colleen sagged, her earlier bravado deflated. “You said you hate me. Remember?”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. “I don’t hate you. My feelings are quite the opposite.” Tucking a strand of her short hair behind her ear, he let his fingers linger then drew a slow line down her neck.

Her brain flashed a warning—his actions were only a play at seduction. Nothing about this moment was real. Storm didn’t want her, not in a meaningful way. She took a step to the side.

He followed.

A dance which would not have a happy ending. When he tipped down his head to kiss her, she frosted over with cool indifference in protection of her tender heart. The contact with his lips sparked a fire, quickly melting her resolve.

“What’s the matter?” Storm whispered in her ear. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

His warm breath made her shiver. The stiffness in her body faded, and she leaned into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. A deep groan rumbled from his throat. The ice around her heart broke away in large chunks, leaving it exposed and vulnerable.

Footsteps sounded from nearby. Colleen glanced over to see a cameraman standing at the open doorway, filming. Panicked, she pushed Storm away. Frustration sickened her stomach. “Get out,” she yelled to both the cameraman and at Storm.

The cameraman disappeared down the hall.

Storm stayed as still as a sculptor made of sand.

“Colleen…I’m not sorry for kissing you.”

She put up her hand to stop him from saying more. “How could you go from loathing to lusting in only one week? I’m sick of being used as a pawn in your game.”

“We’re both playing a game here, don’t forget.” He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “But I’m not using you. I’m not a heartless monster.”

“No? Do you still think I am?” Hot tears welled in her eyes and blurred her vision.

“You’re not only beautiful, but you are the smartest person in this competition. We’ve both made mistakes in the past—hurt each other when we were immature kids.” He took hold of her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “I’d like to start over. A fresh beginning.”

“A fresh beginning?” She considered the concept as probable as both of them winning the competition. “I want to win the money and open my retreat. You’ll work to make sure I don’t succeed. One way or the other, one of us will lose out on our dream.”

He dropped her hand. “Then I guess I’ll say goodnight.” With his head and shoulders hunched low, Storm headed out the door.

She started after him, but good sense kept her inside her motel room. If Storm knew how much she cared, that she’d fallen in love, he’d use her feelings as weapons. Over the years, the wall standing between them had grown. Stones of betrayal and unkindness heaped on one another and set with mortar of distrust. She’d need a lifetime to disassemble the damage done.

On the other side of the motel room wall, she heard the shower start. She imagined Storm standing under the hot spray. Her pulse quickened, and her body warmed. Now, she needed a shower, too—a cold one—then find a cheap place to eat, and finally go to sleep. Tomorrow would be another long day.

Would Storm stick with her or go off on his own? Either way, she’d be fine. While he played his games, she played her own. Let him break down my defenses. Eventually, he’ll learn I have a will of steel.