| |
––––––––
Carter swung open the door to the calf corral and stepped inside. His hand dropped in disappointment when he realized Allie was gone, and only Janet, Pete and one other guest remained. The last thirty minutes had seen a mass exodus. There wasn’t even a lineup in front of the metal railing.
“Where is everyone?” he asked.
“Well, duh,” Janet said, as she leaned over the divider holding a bottle for the freckle-faced calf. “They left right after you did, naturally. I was hoping to have the women as background, but nothing is going as planned. This calf is the most photogenic but his stomach will be full before Rebecca returns in time to take my picture.”
“What about Allie?” he asked. “Or were her feet too sore to stand for another photo session?”
He didn’t try to keep the condemnation from his voice. Ever since Allie had left the hospital, Janet had been dogging her, determined to scrape together some positive publicity. Though maybe the woman’s motives weren’t totally selfish. She seemed to respect Allie and enjoy her company. It had just taken Janet too long to realize Allie was pure gold. Of course, he was in no position to judge.
“Where did Allie go?” he asked, a bit more politely. “Is she feeling okay?”
“Yes, but she wanted to check on some animals. I just can’t believe Rebecca took off too.” Janet’s eyes narrowed on the lariat looped over his shoulder. “I thought you were teaching a lesson? Since you’re back, is there any chance you have a phone with portrait mode like Allie’s? Or at least one that can adjust background blur—”
“No,” Carter said, turning and scanning the front of the dining hall. Usually some cats hung around the shaded porch, bumming for food and a belly rub. But the porch was empty.
Allie wouldn’t have walked back to the dorm this close to lunchtime, not with her sore feet. Which left the pool, Sharon’s office, or possibly the barn. He’d seen her delivering carrots to Tucker and Tex, the two horses Dwight and his wife had ridden on their ill-fated camping trip. No doubt she felt a kinship with them. Apparently Tucker had even kicked Dwight when the man tried to catch him on the trail.
Carter looked back at Janet. “What animals was she going to see?”
“I don’t know,” Janet said. “If she had her phone we could text her. But she gave it to Rebecca, and then Rebecca left too. Even though we’re leaving at lunchtime.” She gave an aggrieved sigh. “I just can’t believe Rebecca walked away too.”
Probably both women needed a break, Carter thought. Although it was strange not to see Rebecca. The woman was like a shadow, always tracking Janet as well as Allie. Something pricked at him, a whisper of a thought that he couldn’t pin down. He scrubbed his jaw. “Did Allie take carrots from the kitchen?”
“No, only cornbread,” Janet said.
Carter nodded and turned away. Allie must have gone to feed Lynx. She didn’t even know the cat was his, but she’d been regularly dropping by the barn with cream and cornbread. How she’d managed to strike up a friendship with his aloof feline was amazing. But Lynx was a very smart cat.
“Thanks, Janet,” Carter said over his shoulder. “If I see Rebecca, I’ll ask her to come back and help you.” Which he’d be quick to do anyway since he didn’t want anyone around Allie when he tried to deal with his messed-up feelings. Already sweat itched the back of his neck and he was tempted to postpone any talking for another day. But he’d put that hurt on her face, and he needed to fix it. Before she totally wrote him off.
“Allie wanted to be alone,” Janet said, “so Rebecca isn’t with her.” She shoved the calf’s head away—completely destroying the maternal image that seemed to be today’s goal—and dropped the bottle on the ground beside the railing. “But Rebecca went in the same direction. If I can find her, there might still be time for a photo.”
He didn’t want Janet tagging along and he had no patience for her never-ending publicity quest. But she could help in his search. And he needed to find Allie quickly, while he had the courage to explain, to apologize, to grovel. She might not be open to talking but he had the perfect excuse; a student had asked for her presence. She would never turn down a guest request.
He headed toward the barn with Janet sticking to his side, still talking about photos and how the freckle-faced calf might be coaxed into drinking another bottle.
“It’s dangerous to overfeed them,” he muttered, even as he scanned the ground for Allie’s tracks. There were plenty of hoof prints and dried horse droppings but no sign of floppy slippers.
He veered around the wooden building, paying little attention to Janet’s nattering. The ground wasn’t as marked up here, and a moment later he spotted where Allie’s slippers had polished the dusty ground. Boot prints overlaid her rounded tracks, prints with an oval impression on one side. The tracks veered toward the east end of the ranch, past the posted sign that read: Staff Only.
“I see the mark of a cane,” Janet said. “So it looks like Rebecca came this way too. She must be following Allie.”
Carter nodded. Clearly both Janet and Allie had learned a lot from their experience on Man Tracker. However, the fact that Rebecca was following showed a complete lack of regard for Allie’s privacy.
“She can’t grab a moment alone,” he said. “Someone is always hanging around, wanting her company.”
“Well, you want her company too,” Janet said, feisty as ever. “At least I don’t hide it.”
He gave a reluctant smile. Score a point for Janet. She was more astute than he’d imagined, with reading tracks as well as people. But it wasn’t that he’d been trying to hide anything. He’d made sure everyone on the ranch knew his feelings for Allie, including Sharon Barrett. It was his opinion about himself that was the sticking point.
“Funny,” Janet went on, easily keeping pace. “Allie saved both our lives. And we’re struggling with it.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. This was the first time anyone had said that aloud. But he was struggling with it, and the knowledge ate at him. It wasn’t just masculine pride. It was accepting that the woman he loved had put herself in such danger. She could have died crossing that gorge, and he couldn’t imagine dealing with that kind of guilt and loss.
“But we’re lucky she was around,” Janet went on, as if unaware of his inner turmoil. “The first night on the trail, she was in a tree and pulled me away from a charging moose. She would have ripped out her arm before letting go of me. But that’s the type of person she is. She would have done it for anyone.”
Carter made an agreeable sound. Janet hadn’t spoken publicly about the moose incident, probably because she hadn’t been the hero in that encounter. But Allie had confided the details about how she’d dislocated her shoulder, and Janet was totally correct. Allie never would have dropped Janet, or anyone else in danger of being trampled.
And if it had been Monty injured by the river, would she have raced for help? Would she have crossed the gorge and raced those tortuous miles? He dragged a hand over his jaw, but the answer was clear.
Of course she would have.
She would have risked her life for anyone. For Monty, Janet or even a random hiker. Just like Lynx sensed her character and was drawn to her, so were people. Little wonder she was Sharon Barrett’s most treasured employee.
“Allie’s a remarkable woman,” Carter said, pushing the words past the lump in his throat. “Courageous, kind—
“Yes,” Janet said, cutting him off. “That’s why I hang around, hoping some of her shine will rub off on me.” She gave a morose sigh. “Thank God she’s not an Olympian. That would be tough to take.”
Carter had to smile at the woman’s honesty.
“I mean that,” Janet said. “It would be hard to like her. You know what I mean. She’s even stolen some of your limelight.”
Liking Allie wasn’t his struggle and he’d never enjoyed cheap attention. It had been his failure to keep her safe that left him questioning his worth. But it was Allie’s nature to help, whether or not there were any accolades involved. She’d always be the first to step forward, just as she had volunteered for Man Tracker.
However, it hadn’t been him who’d sent her on the race; it had been Sharon. The ranch didn’t deserve Allie. Neither did he. But then, who did?
“She saved my life,” he said, more to himself than Janet. “But I’m not struggling with that anymore.”
“That’s a relief.” Janet gave an airy nod as if her approval was important. “And once I find Rebecca, I promise to leave Allie alone. Besides, I’ll be back in the fall. I’ve already made a reservation.”
“Good,” he said, rather surprised he could say that. Janet was so direct, so unabashedly selfish. But she wasn’t knocking herself out for being less of a person. He could learn from that. Besides, Allie would probably want to see Janet after a five-month hiatus. The two had been through a lot together.
“Funny how Rebecca doesn’t want to come back with me,” Janet went on. “Even though this was her idea.”
“It was her idea to come?”
“Yes. She wanted to get away from Seattle. She was seeing some married guy. Always sneaking off with him on camping trips.”
“So she asked you to go on Man Tracker?”
“Yes.”
Carter didn’t know why that detail felt important. His brain was too full of Allie. But it seemed as if there was something there, something significant. He’d always assumed Rebecca was the reluctant sidekick. She wasn’t a person who sought attention and was pleasantly low maintenance. However, on a couple occasions she’d questioned Allie’s version of events, even speculating that Trina’s death could have been an accident. He’d even overheard her announcing it wasn’t fair to presume Dwight’s guilt, speaking rather emphatically for a woman who liked to remain in the background.
“Dammit.” He jerked to a stop, angling his head so he could study Janet’s reaction. “Is it possible the man she was seeing was Dwight?”
“Dwight? No way.” Janet’s lip curled with such disdain, it couldn’t have been faked. Seconds later though, her mouth pursed in thought. “Although here they acted as if they didn’t know each other, but I thought they met at the Olympic sponsor tent. She does talk about him a lot. Believes he can fight the murder charge, especially since Allie is the only witness.”
Janet’s eyes widened. And in that taut silence, they heard the cries for help. Faint. Desperate.
Carter reacted first, bolting in the direction of Allie’s voice. Janet charged beside him. He felt a vague surprise that she was able to keep pace since he was running faster than he’d ever run in his life. But as they whipped past a square storage shed, they were racing as a team.
They sprinted around the back of a tractor and glimpsed a familiar form. Rebecca. The woman froze. Then, swinging her cane like a weapon, she turned and scurried in the opposite direction.
“Hey,” Janet shouted, swerving toward Rebecca. “What did you do?”
“No! The grain bin,” Carter yelled, already charging toward the steel tower. Allie’s cries were louder now, along with the ominous hum of the auger. And he knew exactly where she was, the horrible thing that Rebecca had done.
“Turn off the auger,” he shouted to Janet. “Red switch to the left of the door. Hurry!”
Janet’s arms and legs flashed as she quit her pursuit of Rebecca and cut toward the shed at the base of the bin. If anyone could get there in time, he thought grimly, it would be her.
He charged up the narrow outer steps, taking them three at a time, already shaking out his lariat. He’d tie the rope to the railing and leap in, try to find Allie before she was buried too deep. Then he’d just hold onto the rope until the grain stopped funneling.
Or maybe he was too late. Her cries had silenced.
Oh, God, please.
He burst onto the platform and spotted Allie spinning sideways. Downward.
“Get your arms up, Allie,” he shouted even as he threw his rope, the most important toss he’d ever made. He was already knotting the end around the railing, preparing to jump in as the noose settled around her chest. He braced his feet and leaned back, holding her weight above the surface.
“That’s it. Hang on. Just another second.” He shouted desperate words of encouragement, his eyes locked on her head. Her shoulders were visible now and he could see her fingers clutching the rope. Thank God she was tough. But fighting that suction would be exhausting, especially with her injured hands and shoulder.
How much longer would Janet need? And then the auger stopped, the vibration replaced by a welcome silence.
He leaped in, feet first, snagging Allie and yanking her to the surface of the grain. But she fought his hold, wiggling like a fish.
“You’re safe, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s me. Stop moving. Wait until Janet throws down the ladder.”
She still struggled, twisting sideways and sticking her arms in the grain. “The c-cat,” she managed. “He’s here too, just below me.”
“Lie still. I’ll get him.” Carter plunged his arms into the lowest spot of the grain then stilled, trying to feel the vibration, any sign of movement. Felt nothing.
He glanced over at Allie who had stopped struggling and was watching him with a confident expression. Trusting him to find Lynx. He sucked in a big breath, hoped it contained enough oxygen, then closed his eyes and plunged headfirst into the grain.
He shoved and pushed, blindly reaching until his lungs felt as if they were bursting. Finally the tips of his fingers brushed something furry. He stretched his fingers another inch, praying it wasn’t one of Allie’s fuzzy slippers. But finally he was able to wrap his hands around what was obviously a cat.
He pushed his head to the surface and shoved Lynx to the top of the grain. The cat was limp, not moving or breathing.
He widened Lynx’s mouth, stuck in his finger and scooped out a clump of grain. Covering the cat’s nose with his mouth, he breathed in and out, eyeing Lynx’s chest for movement. He continued giving desperate breaths even though it seemed futile, driven more by the hope in Allie’s eyes than anything else. But she wouldn’t have given up, so neither did he.
Agonizing moments later, something pricked his arm.
He glanced down. Lynx’s paw was curling, the cat’s nails sharp against his skin. He gently blew in another breath. Lynx’s eyelids were fluttering now, along with his tail.
“You did it,” Allie whispered, even as Lynx twitched and wiggled.
Carter reached out, loosened the lariat around Allie’s chest and pulled her close, cradling her in one arm and the stunned cat in the other.
“You’ll both be out of here soon,” he said, knowing he was squeezing her way too tight but unwilling to loosen his grip.
“Rebecca did this,” Allie sputtered, pushing the words past the grain sticking to her skin. There was so much chaff on her face it was hard to see the outline of her mouth.
“I know,” he said. “Just talk slowly.” She seemed to be breathing okay but she shouldn’t waste oxygen. The air in here was too stale.
She tilted her head and glanced up at the hatch. “Who turned off the auger?”
“Janet. She sure is fast.”
Allie gave a knowing nod. “But how did you know I was in trouble? What made you come?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“But I saw you less than an hour ago. You didn’t want to talk then.” She fumbled at the rope draped around her chest. “And what about your lesson?”
“I should have stayed and talked. Not gone to the lesson.”
“But you can’t just walk off and leave the guests alone. Although I’m glad you did.” She touched the lariat and he could see her throat convulse. “What did you want to talk about that was so important?”
He took a moment to stroke Lynx’s head with his finger. This was not the time or place. However, the cat was purring and the sound left him feeling optimistic.
“I never thanked you properly,” he said. “Like I said in the corral, it’s hard for me to accept...that you risked your life like that. But you saved me. Thank you.” His throat felt tight and he knew it wasn’t just the air. But he had finally pushed the words out and it felt good.
“And also I needed your help with the lesson,” he said, “and I thought maybe we could talk about some other stuff later.”
“You needed my help? With a roping lesson?”
Her incredulity made him smile. “One of the guests asked for you,” he said. “And I think people would like to hear more details about how you used a lariat to save me.” Saying it the second time was even easier. In fact, he was smiling.
“Okay,” she said, scanning his face. “If that’s okay with you?”
“It’s definitely okay.”
“I’m really more of a trash can roper,” she said. “But I’d like to learn more. Sharon already promised to find me an assistant, someone who can take over my pool duties. She doesn’t think the chlorine will be good for my cuts. So I’ll have lots of time to learn to rope.”
Carter picked up her hands and checked her palms. Some of the blisters had been ripped open but the stitches at the base of her thumb had held. “When your feet and hands and face and shoulder don’t hurt anymore,” he said, “I’ll give you private instruction. In the meantime, you can do most of the talking in the lessons.” He raised her left hand and kissed her fingers. “You’re a real hero. Everyone looks up to you.”
“They do?” She seemed to mull that over, as if struggling to absorb that she was a celebrity. Then her eyes shadowed. “Did Sharon ask you to include me? To keep me busy?”
“Of course not.”
But she shifted back, her eyes wary. “What’s the other stuff you wanted to discuss?”
“We can talk about that later.” He glanced up, willing Janet to arrive with the ladder. This was not the most stable place to be holding an intimate conversation.
“But you will talk to me, right? Just remember I was stuck here. If you hadn’t come along—”
“You don’t have to do that, sweetheart,” he said, chagrined at her attempt to make him feel like the hero. “I’m sorry it took me this long. But you can save my life every day of the week. That’s who you are. In fact, I’ll expect it of a woman like you.”
She was so close he could feel her breath, feel the beat of her heart... And he could also feel her stiffness, her unusual reserve.
She definitely wasn’t falling into his arms like he’d hoped, and he didn’t know what more to say. He wasn’t good at conveying his feelings, had never needed to do much talking. But he wasn’t a champion cowboy anymore. He wasn’t even a very good instructor. And he had the sinking feeling she was already out of reach.
“I remembered a student’s name today,” he added desperately. “And I’m going to work at being a better teacher, a better man, so you can be as proud of me as I am of you.”
“So you’re not going back to the rodeo?”
She clearly wasn’t listening. She just stared at his neck, grain sticking to her long eye lashes. He adjusted his hold on Lynx and tried to brush the grain from her face.
“Hell, no. I’m not leaving,” he said. “What made you think that?”
“Sharon said she offered you a chalet but you turned it down. I thought maybe you were returning to the rodeo.”
“No, I just didn’t want to leave the dorm. If you like people around, that’s what I want too.”
She gave a little nod. A good sign. But she must still have grain in her eyes because her eyelids were fluttering. Hell, now they were filling with tears and it bothered him to see her cry. “There’s a hose by the barn,” he said. “We’ll get you over there and rinse that grain off your face. You’ll feel better soon.”
“I feel fine now,” she said, even as tears slid down her cheeks. “And as soon as we get out of here, you should find Sharon. Tell her you want the chalet on the west side, past the corral with Tucker and Tex. She’ll argue at first but that one has all new plumbing as well as the most privacy.”
Sharon had already offered that chalet but he’d declined, assuming Allie would prefer being closer to the dance hall. And his uneasiness grew. Because he was anticipating she’d live there with him. Maybe not this week, or even this month, but surely within the year.
“I want you to be comfortable wherever I live,” he said cautiously. “Isn’t that cabin a bit remote?”
“Nothing on the ranch feels remote anymore.”
Of course. After her experience in the wilderness, she could handle most anything. But it wasn’t the answer he wanted. Nor was it the question he was trying to ask.
He traced her mouth with his finger, pretending he was clearing away the grain when he really needed to feel her lips, to see if she was smiling or frowning.
“Will you live there with me?” he asked gruffly. “Or we could get married first. Whatever you want.”
He guessed that wasn’t the smoothest marriage proposal she’d ever heard, but he’d already wasted too much time. Her mouth remained flat though and all he could see were the tear tracks that smudged her face.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he said desperately. “I love every damn thing about you. The way you dance and do yoga and make everyone happy. I even love your purple boots.”
He could feel the tremble of her mouth and his heart hammered, praying she was smiling. As usual, she did one better. She flung her arms around his neck.
“I love every damn thing about you too,” she said, her voice bubbling with laughter. “And of course I’ll live with you. But we’ll have to sort it out with Sharon first. Maybe ease into so it doesn’t shock her.”
Sharon wouldn’t be shocked. She’d already grilled him about his intentions and understood he needed to work through a few things first. But there was no time to get into that now. He could hear Janet’s feet as she raced up the steps, frantically shouting their names. Something bumped the stairs and he realized she was dragging the ladder. It sounded like she was taking the steps four at a time, an amazing feat.
“It’s okay, Janet,” he called. “She’s safe.”
“This would be an excellent photo for her portfolio,” Allie said. “Showing her dropping the ladder and rescuing all three of us. Maybe we should send her back to find a camera?”
“No.” His voice rose in alarm. “You need fresh air. So does Lynx. If you really want to help Janet, we’ll re-enact it.”
He heard her laugh and realized she’d been messing with him. Chaff covered her face, softening the scratches. The injuries would heal, and no doubt she’d earn new ones. But not here, not today. And despite that they were chest deep in a grain bin and their breathing was rather labored, he couldn’t stop grinning. Judging by her white teeth neither could she.
He’d never been able to look at her mouth very long, always wanting to taste it, and this time was no different.
He dipped his head, deciding there was enough oxygen to risk a quick kiss. And even though only moments earlier, he’d thought it important to rush her to safe ground, the embrace quickly grew into a kiss filled with such passion and promise it made him wish Janet couldn’t run quite so fast.
