§ chapter Ten §
Later that afternoon Jacie walked through a dense growth of pine and came upon a small clearing. A woman sat in the tall grass with an easel in front of her. She turned as Jacie's boots snapped pine needles underfoot. It was Myra Wright.
"Hi." Jacie halted. "I didn't see you. I don't mean to intrude."
"Don't be silly, stay." Myra put out a hand, multiple bracelets jangling on one slim arm. "The sun has gone down and it was that last minute of sun I was trying to catch. I'm through for the day."
Jacie glanced at the canvas admiringly. Myra had done a credible job of depicting the fading brilliance of the day across the mountains. Looking at the picture, she could feel the silence and vastness.
Myra retrieved brushes and paint tubes and she knelt to help her.
"Actually, I'm glad you're here, Jacie. I could use help carrying the easel." The older woman rubbed her hands. "When I hold the brush for very long, my arthritis bothers me."
"I'd be glad to help."
When everything was stowed in a pack, Jacie slung the pack over one arm and picked up the lightweight easel. "Can you carry the canvas? I don't want to smudge it."
"Yes. My car is over there." The older woman indicated an area behind a thick growth of trees.
"You drove?" she said with surprise.
"It's just a narrow track, but Sloan keeps it graded so my car doesn't have any trouble. He knows I love to paint while I'm here."
"Have you always painted the ranch?"
"My goodness, no. When I lived here, I was too busy...accounts, the farm, raising two boys. Everett encouraged me, but I never seemed to get around to it."
They placed everything in the small gray car.
"Will you ride back with me, Jacie?"
"Sure, thank you."
They settled themselves in the car. She watched Myra competently reverse the car.
"Are you out walking?" Myra asked.
"Just getting back. We did a jump this morning and then I decided to go for a walk. This area is kind of awesome." They left the clearing. "Do you miss living here?"
"Yes. Life may have been hectic, but it called to something in me." Myra shook her head ruefully. "It's different now. We've adapted to our new life in Maryland."
"I suppose it's easier to adapt if you're born here. Sometimes it seems so isolated."
Myra laughed like a young girl, her face lit with amusement. "I was a city girl, Jacie, just like you. I'd never lived in the middle of such isolation as it was then. When I found myself in between jobs, I came to visit a friend, Miriam Wright, Sloan's mother." She sighed. "Miriam was so much fun to be around, the life of the party, almost desperately seeking out adventures. Miriam always said the worst thing she could do with her life was be boring." Myra shook her head sadly. "Miriam never really grew up."
Troubled, Jacie said, "But she had Sloan and a husband, surely―"
"I loved and envied her, most people did. She was easy to love, but she didn't stick around. After Sloan was born, she went back to her partying ways. Everett loved her desperately, and in her way, she loved him also." Myra’s face changed and grew sad. "I believe everyone is capable of one truly grand love in their life. Everett is mine. Miriam was his. We both knew it...I knew it going into marriage with Everett, but I loved him regardless. We have a good life. We married a year after Miriam died. Sloan was almost nine, he needed the stability."
She could sense Myra loved Sloan dearly. Sympathy created a lump in her throat, sudden understanding hitting her. Did Sloan think she jeopardized her life by jumping out of planes just for the risk of doing it? She grew up in a skydiving family, she went into it naturally, but she wouldn’t deny she had always liked the thrill, catching that first updraft of air.
"Sloan doesn't take risks. He regards my jumping out of planes as a foolish gamble."
Carefully, Myra pulled her car into a parking place by the lodge and turned to her. "You have to understand he was a small child. He loved his mother dearly. When she was around, she devoted all of her time to him. Nevertheless, as young as he was, I'm sure Sloan saw how Miriam's lifestyle hurt his father.
"One day Miriam was out early moving those big hay bales. She helped Everett on the farm from time to time. In her brash style, she had often declared she could operate the farm equipment as well as any man. She lifted the loader bucket too high and the bale rolled back. Somehow, she escaped being pinned in the seat and she walked away with only a few scratches. It was terrible justice that she died from what started as a simple infection."
"It must have been awful for them to lose her like that, someone so full of life."
"Sloan and his father were close, at least they had each other. Families are very important in times of crisis. Do you have family, Jacie?"
She looked down. "Yes, and I'm not proud to say I've kind of pushed my family away lately."
Myra gently touched her arm. "Family is very important, my dear, as I'm sure you know."
"Yes I do."
As they exited the car in the lodge parking lot Myra commented, "Skydiving must be an exciting occupation."
"It's an exacting type of work and it can be totally consuming."
"You've been in this business a long time?"
"Yes. My brothers run the business. I love my family, but sometimes it's too much. They think they have to keep an eye on me."
"Haven't you ever been scared?"
Chewing at her lip, she looked toward the deepening orange of the horizon. "Not until I got hurt this last time." She shrugged, pushing her door closed. "I came face to face with my own mortality. It sobers you up pretty quickly."
"That's difficult for anyone, I would say," a voice behind her said.
She turned quickly to find Sloan walking around the front of the car. His dark jeans were covered in dust, his dull red shirt unbuttoned and hanging open. Her eyes flicked the dark furring of hair running down his chest and across a hard, flat stomach to the waistband of his jeans. She imagined running her hands up that sculpted chest. Licking her lips, she lifted her eyes to his and felt the tell tale color surge into her cheeks.
Jacie hadn’t seen him in two days. She had wondered why, but now all she could think about was how dark and sexy he looked.
"I see you found Myra." He opened the back of the car and retrieved the canvas. Carefully, he held it upright.
"Lucky for me," Myra said. "Jacie helped me load the car. I thought this painting might go nicely over the fireplace in the lodge's game room," she added.
"I'd rather have it over my fireplace," he said, turning it this way and that for a better look.
"Feel free." Myra waved a hand. "There's plenty more. Just be careful, it’ll take a few days to dry." She rose up on her toes and kissed Sloan's cheek. "I'm going to have a quick nap before dinner." Without saying anything further, Myra left them and walked into the lodge.
Placing the painting on the hood of the car, he tucked the tails of his shirt into his jeans and began to button his shirt. "Thank you for helping my mother." He studied her intently.
"I happened to come on her while I was hiking to the swimming hole."
"Did you make it to the swimming hole?" His regard was warm as he did a slow perusal of her. She met those light eyes head on. She wasn't sure what it was, but something seemed different about him. He seemed less tense.
"No," she said lightly. "But of course there's always tomorrow."
"Great idea," he surprised her by saying. "What’s your schedule like?"
"I'm taking tomorrow off."
"Since you missed out today, I can show you a place not many people know about."
Her interest peaked.
"It's also my way of apologizing," he added softly. "I was out of line the other night. I had no right to question the way you make a living. It has certainly benefited our business and you're very good at what you do."
"I am," she agreed.
Removing his hat, he brushed his hair back with his palm. The movement made his half buttoned shirt billow out, exposing hard-muscled ribs. Quietly, he said, "So what do you say, would you like to go?"
"Sure."
"We'll take the horses, it's a good day's hike otherwise. I'll be your guide."
She thought she would like to have Sloan as a guide again. Her fingers twitched, longing to touch him, but she curled her fingers behind her back. "Okay."
"Good," he said huskily. "I've got someone coming to look at some hay, then I'll meet you at the stables in the morning...say nine?"
"Okay." With a brief flick of her fingers, she turned on her heel, releasing her breath slowly as she put distance between herself and Sloan.
She conceded her father was right. When she had been younger he had claimed trouble would find her. If not, she would go looking for it. Every instinct warned her to steer clear of Sloan, but she intended to move full speed ahead, regardless. She could not ignore the excitement between them. It called to her. She had to find out where it would take her.
Early the next morning Jacie paced the floor, trying to calm an escalating anger as she listened to Bonnie on the phone. "Bonnie, I left you a message that I needed Brad’s number for the police, not that I wanted him to come here."
"I know," Bonnie said quickly, "but I’m really concerned with everything that’s been happening out there so I decided to ride out early. When I told Brad, he volunteered to speak with them personally. I know this is a surprise, but I'm en route now." Bonnie paused.
"What!" Stunned, Jacie could imagine Bonnie taking a deep draw on her cigarette.
The other woman rushed on. "Brad feels terrible, he wants to resolve issues so both of you can get on with your lives. He thought this was a good opportunity."
"There are no issues!" She wanted to scream in frustration. "However well meaning your intentions, I resent your interference. You can turn right around. Brad knows I don't want to see him. I don't know why you're getting involved, Bonnie, but I don't want you calling me again and I certainly don't want you bringing him here." Abruptly, she hung up the phone. Her hands shook and she felt incredibly panicked. The last person she wanted to see right now was Brad.
Pacing the cabin, she fumed, rubbing her forehead as a headache threatened. Why was Bonnie trying to bring her and Brad together? It was history she didn’t want to repeat. Her glance fell on the kitchen clock and she groaned.
She was supposed to have met Sloan fifteen minutes ago. She wondered if she should just tell him to forget it. She wouldn’t be very good company today.
Fiddling with the camera strap around her neck, she walked from the house and stood on her front porch. She suddenly heard the sound of horse's feet. Sloan came into view, riding his horse and leading one behind him. He halted on the drive in front of her cabin.
"Morning, Jacie." Her heart dropped to her feet at the gravelly warmth of his voice.
"Hi. Sorry I'm late, but I had a phone call."
"Problems?" he murmured, holding out the reins of her mount.
Taking the reins, she resisted the urge to confide. If she talked about it, she’d get mad all over again. "Nothing I can't handle." She looked askance at the pack on his horse.
"Lunch," he said, grinning.
"I'm hungry already," she quipped, mounting her horse, a sturdy gray with dapple marks on his hindquarters. Sloan had not let her ride Dandy yet, not until he was certain the horse’s system was flushed of the drug he’d been given.
"Lead on."
"Okay." His smile was a killer, his eyes heating her through. "Let's go."
They rode through a small stand of evergreens and up a track she hadn't explored yet.
"My place is up ahead," he said, twisting in the saddle to look at her.
As the trees thinned, she saw his home. It was gorgeous, like a picture advertisement. His cabin was much larger than her own, with a semi-circular deck on the gorge side, set in amongst the trees.
"Wow―what a beautiful place, Sloan."
"Thanks. James and I put it together."
"Did you cut your own logs?"
"No, I hired a company from Maine. I gave them the plans and they delivered the pre-cut logs a few months later. If you like, I'll show you around some time."
"I'd love that."
The logs were reddish-gold, and it looked perfect in its setting. A two-tier flowerbed bordered the front of the house, drawing the eye toward the brilliant colors. "You did these flowers also?" She asked, impressed.
"I like to play gardener in my spare time," he murmured, shrugging. "My mom loved flowers, maybe that’s where I got it from. This is my home."
She looked away, ignoring the ache in her chest. She had never wanted a place to call home, so why the sting of pain now? "So where are we going?" she asked brightly.
"Over on the far end of our property. It's really a well-kept secret, hardly anyone goes there since it's off the beaten path."
She returned his smile, anticipation warming her. Miles from anywhere with Sloan. The day was already looking brighter.
Jacie increasingly enjoyed the warm day and beautiful surroundings. They followed a thin trail through a heavily wooded area and then broke out into a clearing where they rode through frothy ferns. It seemed a shame to walk on them. At the edge of the clearing she drew her mount to a halt as Sloan stopped where the ground dropped sharply.
He waved his arm. "Look ahead, we’re almost there."
She urged her horse closer, catching her breath as her eyes swept the valley below. The trail became grass and at the base of the small hill was a large pond surrounded by orange and yellow water lilies. A small wooden dock had been built on one side of the pond where massive maples shaded it.
"Come on," he said.
Anticipation rippled through her. She thought; what a romantic spot!
Following him, she drew her camera out and began to take pictures. He looked back, one brow raised and she pointed the camera at him.
He put up a hand playfully.
With a delighted laugh, she took his picture. "Sorry, you’re a captive audience so you have to bear with me."
They dismounted by the pond.
"Let your horse have a half dozen gulps of water, then we'll put them in the fenced corral."
She looked over at the split-rail pen, the edge of which went into the woods, providing grass and shade.
"Sloan, this is incredible."
"When I was a kid my dad used to let me camp out here. Later, when James was old enough, I would bring him here. Each summer we'd clear brush until it looks the way it is today."
Removing saddles and bridles, they turned the horses loose in the corral. He carried the lunch pack toward the pond while she lingered a moment, watching the horses drop down and roll in the grass.
"Coming, Jacie?" His voice washed over her like a slow caress.
She nodded. "Be there in a minute," she called. Drawing a deep breath, she pushed herself away from the fence and made her way to Sloan.
"How about a swim and then lunch?"
She was momentarily disconcerted and then she started laughing. "Actually, I just realized something." Her mirth spilled over. There was nothing else she could do under the circumstances. "I...uh...kind of forgot my bathing suit." In her distraction over the phone call she had left her suit on the dining room table.
He removed his hat, his eyes on her. "All indecent proposals aside, you could swim in your underwear and T-shirt. It's not like you haven't done it before."
His words reminded her of the time he had caught her near naked at the pool. A spark of awareness snapped through her.
"I can't imagine you making an indecent proposal," she said, laughing. "You'd just come out and say what you had to say, like it or not." She looked down at her extra-long shirt, then let the sparkle of the water draw her attention.
"Maybe I will," she mused. "I'm not one to let a swim pass me by." She moved to the water’s edge and dipped her fingers into the cool depths.
"I'm going to get the horses more water. I'll be right back," he said.
"I'll help." She moved to follow him.
"No, you go ahead. It'll just take a few minutes." As she watched, he pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop to the grass.
She understood his ploy or thought she did. He was giving her time to get in the water. Determinedly turning away from the sight of his long, tanned back, she pulled her jeans off and walked toward the water once more. Her shirt more than adequately covered her, and her underwear was more or less like a bathing suit.
Bypassing the small dock, she ran into the water and then dove. As she tread water her legs stirred cooler undercurrents. Catching her breath, she swiped the water from her face. She swam on her back, closing her eyes against the sun, floating and just relaxing. She even lost track of time she felt so relaxed, until like a great sea beast, Sloan rose up beside her. She squealed in surprise. Water ran down his face and across his chest. He pushed his hair back, a grin playing about his mouth. "Sorry."
"Uh-huh." She splashed water at him, twisted and dove away, but he caught her by the waist, lifting her from the water.
"Sloan!"
He held her above the water, one hand at her waist, the other under one leg. "Say you're sorry."
"No way." For a brief, still moment, she looked at him, her eyes taking in the water-spiked lashes. They were long and dark, his eyes an intense, serious blue.
He grinned wolfishly.
She groaned.
He dropped her in the water.
Spluttering, she surfaced. "You've got an unfair advantage! I can't touch bottom."
One dark brow rose and his mouth widened in amusement. "Then by all means, let's move to shallow water."
She swam away from him, stopping when the water was just below her breasts.
"Do you feel you have the advantage now?" he queried drolly, apparently willing to humor her.
"Almost. We have to make an adjustment," she said seriously, eyeing him.
Her eyes skimmed across his chest. Grinning, she refocused her attention on his face.
"A catch?" he asked mockingly.
"No, but because of your height and weight, we should make it equal." She squinted at him. "What do you say, are you up to making the odds equal?"
He began to look wary.
"Not backing out, are you?" she taunted.
"Do your worst. I'm all yours," he intoned softly, bracing his feet.
She prudently chose to take his words at face value. "If you want to even the odds, close your eyes."
She saw his momentary surprise, but he complied.
She stared at him for a fraction of a second, a mischievous smile curling her lips. "I have to make one adjustment," she said. Lightly, she touched her lips to his. "There," she said with satisfaction, "that's better."
She pushed his shoulder with hers and saw him smile. She pushed it again, harder. He leaned his upper torso toward her. She smiled in satisfaction. He probably thought she was going to body slam him or something.
"Ready?" she asked softly.
This time when she hit her shoulder into his and he braced himself toward her, she hooked her foot around his ankle and jerked him off balance, at the same time pushing his chest with both hands. He put a hand out in an attempt to steady himself, and with the other hand reached toward her. His eyes flew open.
She arched her body backwards, out of his immediate reach. "Sucker," she called out laughingly.
He regained his feet easily, slicking his hair back, a certain glint in his eyes.
"Fair play!" she cried, one hand out as she half-swam, half-walked backwards.
"You play dirty," he said, coming after her.
"Yeah, but it only works once." She lunged toward shore, her heart beating fast, expecting him to grab her at any moment. The anticipation of his touch was more than she could stand. On the other hand, she desperately wanted that touch.
As she ran to the pond's edge she was aware of her T-shirt clinging and wet. When she turned, expecting him to pounce, she saw him still out in the water. He dove and swam further out. Feeling a measure of disappointment, she dropped to the warm grass and squeezed the excess water from her shirt, then lay on her towel in the sun. By the time he joined her she was almost entirely dry.
Sitting up, she opened the basket and offered him a sandwich.
"So tell me where you learned that little trick?" he drawled, taking a bite. Deliberately, he shook one arm over her and cool droplets of water hit her legs.
Shading her eyes, she let her glance skim over wide brown shoulders and narrow waist, down long, hair-dusted legs. Leisurely, she pulled some of the roast beef out of her sandwich and popped it in her mouth, then licked her fingers delicately. "If you recall I have four brothers."
"I'm surprised they didn't teach you an even more foul way to get even."
She grinned innocently. "Oh, they did, but I only use that on special occasions."
He shook his head. "I've been forewarned." He ate the remainder of his sandwich and moved closer. His body blocked out the sun as he leaned over her. "You never cease to surprise me, Jacie." A dark wing of hair fell across his forehead. Her fingers itched to touch it.
"I do what I can." She allowed her glance to skim the fine shadowing of beard along his jaw.
His cool mouth grazed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. Heat infused her body and her stomach muscles contracted. She put her sandwich down on the wrapper and lifted her mouth to his. Gently, she touched her tongue to his bottom lip, and was rewarded with his groan.
Sloan gently pushed her back to the towel. His hands were on either side of her, yet only his lips touched her. She wanted to change that. She wound her fingers through his damp hair, enjoying its silkiness, her fingers tracing down the back of his skull. She arched her body up toward him, then away. His skin felt so cool compared to her sun-heated flesh.
He followed her down, heat burning wherever they touched. She wound her arms around him, her palms stroking slowly along his back. Their kisses became less restrained. She wanted to feel the slide of his skin against her. God! He went to her head, made her punch drunk, in serious danger of losing control. Losing herself.
She suddenly tensed, a niggling doubt creeping in.
Their eyes were mere inches apart. His voice came out gritty. "We're not teenagers. Unless we want to take this one step further..." his voice trailed off, but she understood his meaning.
Oh God, she thought, I'm intoxicated. Intoxicated on Sloan. Right now she didn't care if she ever sobered up, but did she want to take that irrevocable step? It would change both of their lives forever. She closed her eyes, trying to get her bearings. In the momentary hesitation he pulled away.
She felt her limbs tremble as the heat of moments ago drained down to her toes. She jumped to her feet and he put out a quick hand to steady her.
She smiled brightly, moving away from him. "I think you're right, neither one of us wants an involvement. It's physical attraction, that's all."
"We're adults," he muttered, "we know how to handle that."
She looked at him blankly and quickly nodded, anything to end this moment. "If we're going back, I'll get dressed."
"I think it's best. We have a good ride back and the sun will be going down soon," he murmured, frowning.
Moving away before she weakened and threw herself on him, she hurriedly pulled on her clothes, intensely conscious of the tremble of her fingers.
She thought fast. To her way of thinking she had reached the end of the line. She had two choices. Either she walked away or she went to him wholeheartedly, no restrictions. Both choices scared the hell out of her. Why would this choice scare her, she wondered frantically...she jumped out of planes, she was fearless, right? Wrong. He made her lose control. With the sexual haze still gripping her, she didn't want to think of tomorrow or the day after, but she'd been gullible before.
Straightening her shoulders, she knew she couldn't open herself to that vulnerability again, not without a lot of thought. Something deep inside her knew Sloan could hurt her worse than Brad ever had, just because the depth of emotion went much deeper.
It didn’t take long to saddle the horses. At the top of the rise, Jacie cast a last look at the pond. She let her glance fall on Sloan, all too aware of the wistfulness in her heart.
Sloan was aware of Jacie, painfully so. He had called a halt down by the pond before it was too late, not that he had wanted to. He’d wanted her so bad he could taste it. He still ached with it.
He knew it was a risk, caring about a woman like Jacie. She was independent and strong, a woman with her own life.
He wondered if she would be happy here, if she even wanted to stay. Maybe this was just a summer thing for her. God knows a summer affair wasn't what he wanted. He was at a stage in his life he needed permanency and eventually a family. Maybe she was still testing the waters.
From all she had told him of her life, he figured a person like Jacie liked to move around. His mother had flitted in and out of his life for eight years, like a big sister or aunt. He didn't think he could live like that; he didn't want a wife that wasn't around. That kind of relationship would kill him. Damn! He was well and truly stuck between a rock and a hard place, and well aware he had put himself there.