Mountain Moonlight

chapter 5



Vala, held close in Bram's arms, never wanting to leave them, not until she began to realize where she was. Closed in a tent on the side of a mountain during a storm. With her son asleep only a few feet away. Not that they'd done anything really improper, but she'd come close to getting swept away by her feelings.

Bram's words about the rain rushing down the mountain trail in a torrent echoed in her head. She repeated them aloud as she freed herself. "It doesn't do to get swept away."

He let her go without a fuss. Easing back so he was sitting once again on his own sleeping bag, he said, "Why not?"

Flustered, she gestured at Davis, still sleeping peacefully.

Bram grinned at her. "So if we're alone, it's okay?"

"No! What I mean is--" She paused, unsure of what she actually did mean.

"Took me by surprise, too," he admitted.

She wondered if he meant her admittedly ardent response or that he'd been in danger of getting swept away, too. "I don't usually--" she began, then hesitated. Kiss strange men? Bram wasn't exactly a stranger. "I mean, I shouldn't have let it happen," she finished lamely.

"You had a choice?"

Bram was teasing her, but at the same time trying to force the issue. If he'd read her body language right, she'd no more been in control once they got into that zinger of a kiss than he'd been. He was damned if he was going to let her negate what had happened.

"There's always a choice," she snapped.

"What you mean is you finally remembered Davis was asleep in the tent with us."

Vala flushed.

Aha. Struck home. He pushed on. "We can't ignore what's between us. Tell me you haven't felt the pull ever since we met again in that Apache Junction cafe."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I've never forgotten the last time I saw you, years before. How could you have been so cruel?"

He stared at her, completely baffled. "Cruel? Me? What the devil are you talking about? You think it wasn't cruel for you to stand there that night looking down your nose at me as though I'd just crawled out from under a rock?" She gave him an incredulous look.

"I did no such thing! I knew why you were there and I was trying not to cry, that's what really happened."

"Knew why I was there?" His words echoed his confusion.

"You should have been ashamed of yourself!"

"Why? What did I do? Nothing, that's what."

"It was mean. I thought you'd never noticed how I watched you in school, how I hung around on the fringes of your crowd. But you must have. Otherwise you wouldn't have come to my house that night. One of your buddies must have told you my parents weren't home."

"Hell, they bowled in a couple's league every Thursday night. It didn't take a Mensa member to turn that up. I didn't have a clue you even knew who I was. But I sure as hell was interested in you. Took me a long time to make a move."

"I wouldn't have cared if it had been your move." Her voice rose. "Instead what did you do?"

He scowled. "Since you seem to have some secret information I don't possess--what did I do?"

"You made a bet!" Her voice broke on the last word and she turned her face from him.

Bram blinked, taken aback. "What in hell are you talking about? What bet?"

"Don't deny it, I overheard two of your buddies talking about how they'd bet you couldn't get so much as a kiss out of the Ice Maiden. Then the same night you show up at my house after never so much as saying one word ever to me at school."

"I vaguely remember the bet," Bram said after a moment or two. "But what makes you think anyone ever called you the Ice Maiden?"

Vala turned toward him again, frowning. "What are you saying?"

"Honey, you tried so hard to blend into the walls that you didn't even have a nickname, good or bad, at school. The Ice Maiden was Lori Salter. I may have showed up at your house hoping for a kiss, but it was my own idea. The truth is, you fascinated me, but I figured you'd never go out with me. So I didn't talk to you at school for fear of having everyone watch you turn me down."

"But--but--" she sputtered.

"You were so far off with that bet business you weren't even on the planet."

"Are you telling me the truth about Lori Salter?"

"Want to ask me if I won the bet?"

"No! Now that I think about it, Lori was sort of stand- offish. I suppose..." She let the words trail off.

"Tell you anyway. I kissed her, all right. Winning the bet was a lot more fun than the kiss."

She slanted him a quelling glance.

"I didn't even come close to kissing you that night," he said. "Didn't so much as get one kind word, as I recall."

"I wanted you to kiss me!" she cried. "But not on a bet. I spent the whole time you were there trying not to burst into tears."

He shook his head. "I didn't have a clue. Between us, we blew it. I guess the only remedy is to try to make up for lost time."

"I think we already have," she said.

"Wrong. We've hardly begun." He gave her a long, speculative look. "If you hadn't been hung up on that bet and I had kissed you that night, I wonder what it would have been like?"

"We can hardly go back and find out."

He persisted. "Would you have responded?"

"What do you think?"

He ran his forefinger along the curve of her lower lip. "I think we'd still have been locked together in that kiss when your parents got home and there'd have been hell to pay."

She bit his finger.

"How come you're biting him, Mom?" Davis asked sleepily. "Because I've been teasing her," Bram said before Vala could speak.

"Oh." Davis sat up. "Hey, I don't hear the rain hitting the tent any more. Is the storm over?"

Bram's gaze caught Vala's. "Is it?" he asked.

She eased over to the flap window and looked out.

"All over," she said, glancing at Bram. "The sun's out."

Though there were hours of daylight left, Bram opted to stay where they were, give the horses a good rubdown and let the tent have a chance to dry in the sun's warmth.

Vala watched as he let Davis build their small campfire, which sputtered and smoked because of the wet. "Be careful," she called to her son, earning an exasperated look from him. It was kind of Bram to let Davis do things but she sometimes felt he didn't realize the boy was only nine.

During the storm, too much had happened both in words and deeds for her to put her thoughts and feelings in any coherent order.

The thunder and lightning were past, the rain gone, but not her inner turmoil. Seeing Bram and Davis huddle over the old map, she marveled at what that ancient scrap of deerskin had led her into. An ambush? At the moment, it almost felt like that.

She wasn't ready for any of this, wasn't ready to discover she was wrong about their last meeting, nor prepared to take up not where they'd left off then. It was completely unknown territory, as dangerous in its way as the Superstitions.

Neal had taught her men couldn't be trusted. She may have known Bram before, but that didn't count. He, too, was a man. After the divorce she'd decided it was safer not to get involved with any other man, which had been easy up until now. The problem was, Bram couldn't be put in the just any other man category, he was someone she found much too attractive and she was trapped in his company for the next few days. Luckily Davis was with them. But would he be buffer enough?

She carried her worried confusion to bed with her that evening and sleep didn't come easily.

Bram, outside under the stars, studied the very slightly lopsided moon and decided it'd be full in two days. He fell into a reverie about making love to Vala under mountain moonlight, managing to get himself completely aroused.

He shut down the erotic imaginings. Just where the devil do you think you're going to take this? He asked himself.

Sure, he wanted her, but Vala was no quick fix. Would she expect more than a night or two of pleasure? Would she understand that when she flew back east chances were they'd never see one another again? For that matter, would she even let him near her in the first place?

Smiling as he recalled her eager response to his kiss, he decided if the right time and place came together, they'd go up together like rockets. One question remained--was that the smart way to take it? He wasn't ready to get seriously tangled up with any woman, maybe never would be.

He fell asleep before he found an answer.

Nothing went well in the morning. For a start, the oatmeal burned. Then it looked like the pack horse had taken lame, though digging a pebble out of the left hind hoof seemed to help.

Vala insisted on trying to saddle Susie Q by herself and wound up with the saddle sliding under the mare's belly. She snapped at him when he tried to help, so he let Davis show her.

Before they mounted up, a brightly colored gila monster, in all its beaded glory, darted into the camp area and, when it stopped temporarily on a rock, Davis hunkered down over it, fascinated. Bram was watching to see he didn't get too close when Vala finally spotted the lizard.

"Get away!" she screamed at Davis. "It's poisonous. It'll bite you."

Davis backed off with a scowl. There was none of his cheerful chatter after that. When they finally set off, they made a silent crew.

At the first rest stop, Bram took Vala aside. "Don't hover over the kid," he said in a low tone, making sure Davis couldn't hear. "He's capable of thinking for himself--let him."

"I suppose you wanted him bitten by that poisonous lizard."

"I had an eye on him; he was in no danger."

She glared at him. "Davis is only nine."

Bram shrugged and walked away. The boy wasn't his; he'd done the best he could to loosen the apron strings. But it seemed to him that as Davis learned competence at different camp chores, he was beginning to realize he wasn't what his father thought of him--useless. She ought to encourage her son's independence.

They stopped to eat at noon at a relatively flat area that branched off in several directions. When Davis started to explore, Vala warned him to be careful of the cacti and to watch out for snakes. With some difficulty, Bram kept his mouth shut.

"Aw, Mom, I'm just trying to spot the bear," Davis grumbled. "We need to find it for a landmark."

"Okay, but don't go out of sight."

Didn't she realize her kid was about as dependable as any nine-year-old boy could be? Bram wondered. And didn't she remember how repeated warnings made a kid want to rebel? He shrugged. Maybe she hadn't been as ornery in their younger days as he'd been.

Davis returned, they ate, remounted and went on. Bram wanted to reach another plateau a couple of miles along the trail to set up their night camp so he kept a steady pace.

He wondered what she'd do when darkness mantled the mountain. Davis usually went into the tent early and so there'd be just the two of them under the stars.

Unless she made the first move, best to let things be until she was ready to take their relationship further. He doubted that would be tonight, considering the problem she seemed to be having about contributing to and enjoying the kiss.

He began whistling an old song that had a line in it about a kiss just being a kiss.

From her position at the rear, Vala recognized the tune and recalled enough of the words to decide it was directed at her. She glared at Bram's back. That damn kiss aside, where did he get off telling her how to raise her son? He didn't have any kids, what did he know about it?

She worked hard at trying not to be an overprotective mother and she resented being told she was. If she didn't take care of Davis, who would?

Later, after they reached the spot where their night camp was to be, Vala found that Bram had taken her at her word when she'd told him she'd take care of Susie-Q from now on. He and Davis got the gear off their horses in what seemed to her impossibly fast speed, rubbed the animals down, fed and left them--and her--while she was still struggling with the mare's saddle.

She could hear them laughing as they set up the tent.

At her? Hey, she wanted to call, it's not easy being a tenderfoot. At least I'm trying to pull my weight. But her annoyance faded as she realized her son had laughed more in the past few days than he had in the last six months. Bram was good for him, too.

Where had that "too" come from? Did she really think Bram was good for her? A man whose kiss had her melting like candle wax in the sun?

By the time she'd finished with Susie Q, they had the tent up and were working together to start supper.

As they ate, Vala decided the problem with camp food was that the limited selection made meals somewhat boring. Not that she'd dream of saying so. Though no gourmet chef, with a full refrigerator, shelves of supplies, and a modern stove, plus microwave, she could cook a decent meal, but she certainly didn't want to be forced into trying to make do here and now.

After they were through eating, Bram served up his usual warning for dessert, a different one each time, about avoiding harm in the great Arizona outdoors.

"So a pair of pliers should be a part of every camper's gear," he finished. "Because of the fish-hook end of cacti spines, you need something more substantial than tweezers to pull them out."

"A kid at my summer camp got a fish-hook caught in his leg," Davis said. "He sure yelled when the nurse pulled it out."

She wondered if her son retained any of Bram's cautionary desert "dessert" teachings. It was hard to tell what impressed a nine-year-old and what didn't. Which was why she often repeated her warnings to Davis. She did not hover over him, she was merely being careful.

As night closed in around them and the moon rose, Davis was the first to opt for the tent. Vala told herself she'd give him enough time to get undressed and fall asleep and then she'd call it a day as well. Not that she was especially tired, but it was only prudent to avoid being alone with Bram.

"No more aches and pains?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "I guess I'm turning into a real horsewoman."

"I suppose. Too bad." He grinned at her. "I got to looking forward to our liniment sessions."

"You're incorrigible."

"No, ma'am, just an opportunist."

With the feel of his hands massaging her bare skin all too easy to remember, Vala decided retreat was the better part of valor. She faked a yawn.

"Ready to run off scared?" Bram asked.

She started to put on an indignant act, then gave it up as stupid. "Something of the sort, yes."

"No need. It's your call."

"My call? You expect me to--to--" She couldn't find the right words.

"To discover what you want?" He nodded.

"Are you that sure of yourself?"

"Nope. Hope springs eternal."

Despite herself, she smiled and relaxed. Even with the sensual awareness arcing between them, Bram was easy to be with.

"I wish I hadn't misunderstood your visit years ago," she said. "We might have become friends."

"Yeah--good friends."

Though she was aware it wouldn't have happened if her parents could have found any way to prevent Bram from coming near their daughter, she went on picturing her timid teenage self and brash Bram together.

"The kids at school would have had their socks knocked off when they saw me riding on the back of your bike," she said.

He chuckled. "I'd like to have seen that myself. You wouldn't have been too scared?"

She shook her head. "Not if I was with you."

He reached over and covered her hand with his. "You actually trusted the guy I was then?"

Turning her hand over, she clasped his. "I had a bad case of hero worship."

His grip tightened. "Wish I'd known. What about now?" "I don't know," she said honestly. "Being with you confuses me. I'll admit there's something between us, but I'm not sure I want to explore it."

"There's an old sixties song about regretting the path not taken."

"I realize I may regret it if I don't. But even worse, what if I regret it if I do?"

"Why would you?"

She sighed, enjoying the sensation of her hand resting safely in his. But there'd be nothing safe about allowing herself to see where the path with Bram would take her. "Maybe men don't experience loss in the same way women do," she said finally. "Neal is the only man I've known really well and I doubt that he's ever had such a feeling."

Bram released her hand, saying gruffly, "I'm not Neal."

"I'm not comparing you!"

"Oh, yes, you are. You have been from the moment I walked into that cafe."

About to come up with an indignant denial, she realized there was some truth in his words and she smiled at him.

"Guilty. And don't you wish you knew how favorably you stack up?"

That earned her a raised eyebrow. "Favorably?"

"You'd make a far better father than he ever could be," she said.

"Judging by what you've told me, sounds like almost any man would."

"You care. Not only about how Davis feels but about other things. You have no idea how your voice softened when you mentioned your cat and her kittens. And you were kind enough to try to ease my aches, even though you were annoyed that I'd lied about being able to ride. You don't treat the horses like dumb animals, either."

"But you figure you're going to be left unhappier than you are now if we make love."

Vala sighed again. "I'm afraid of that, yes."

He offered her a lop-sided smile. "So much for the staying power of hero worship."

If only she could close her mind to any doubt and fling herself into his arms, where she was aching to be.

"Except for the lie about riding, you're the most honest woman I've ever met," Bram told her. "Wrong-headed but honest."

"So are you. Honest, I mean. Not feeding me any lies about wonderful tomorrows or everlasting love. Amazing in a man."

"Here's my take. We want each other. Neither of us can tell now what will happen after that, if anything. You're afraid to find out. I'm not."

"I came out here to search for treasure that probably doesn't exist," she said. "I never dreamed I'd run into you."

"What you'll find--besides me, and I'm no treasure--all depends on how you define the word. I keep trying to teach Davis treasure isn't necessarily something tangible."

"That's a difficult concept for a kid. I hope he won't be too disappointed."

"Don't underestimate your son's intelligence. And don't underestimate your own courage, either." After a pause he added, "It's time for me to kiss you goodnight and send you to your tent."

Before she could object, he leaned to her and captured her mouth with his. Instead of the fiery passion of their first kiss, this one was soft and gentle. But under the sweetness lay a throbbing current of need that she sensed in him, even as she felt it herself.

He pulled away. "Dream of me," he ordered.

As Vala undressed in her tent and crawled into her sleeping bag, his command echoed in her mind. I won't, she told herself firmly. Isn't it enough he's invaded my every thought? I refuse to let him into my dreams.

Unfortunately, once she was asleep, she couldn't command her unconscious mind....

She and Bram raced across the country on a big Harley, what bikers call a hog. Clinging to him as they flew down a lonesome desert highway, she relished the feel of the wind blowing past. To either side of the road, bright patches of red dotted the barrenness--flowers of the ocotillo, she knew, bloomed in May.

But this wasn't May--was it?

She brushed away the sense of wrongness. What could be more right than fleeing with Bram on his bike?

Fleeing? From what?

Unease threatened her contentment. Was there something important she'd forgotten? Left behind? Yet what could be more important than Bram?

He was taking her away from loneliness, from boredom, taking them into a fantasy realm of happiness for just the two of them. Once they reached this fabulous spot, he'd wrap his arms around her and never let her go. They'd never return, the two of them would dwell forever in that magic place.

If only this feeling she was forgetting something would vanish she'd be blissfully happy...