Winds of Wyoming (A Kate Neilson Novel) (20 page)

“Then …” Mike grimaced. “I’m not real sure what happened next. I can’t tell you if I was driving onto the highway or had driven up the road a ways, but I—I lost control …”

He stared across the canyon. “I don’t remember the accident. All I know is ...” For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Finally, he blurted it out. “Matt was killed, and I ended up in the hospital for several weeks.”

Kate groaned. “I’m so sorry, Mike. That must have been an awful time in your life.”

He absently patted the dog’s head. “I was probably being a show-off. I remember wanting to prove to Matt I could handle the machine as good as he did. Instead, I killed him and destroyed his motorcycle.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh—especially when you don’t remember the specifics of the accident?”

“Dad told me it wasn’t my fault. But the fact is, I broke the law and killed my brother. If we hadn’t been on the highway and I hadn’t been the one steering the bike, it would never have happened.”

“You could have had the same fatal accident under legal conditions.”

His shrug was dismissive. “Yeah, well … Anyway, I blew it big time. It took a lot out of my parents. We never talked about the accident, but they were different afterward.”

“And you, too.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Sorry, Kate. I meant for this to be fun for you, and here I am telling you my deep, dark, depressing secrets.”

“Everyone has regrets. I have my share.” Should she tell him about her own past? She mentally shook her head. No, this conversation was about him, not her. “But just this morning, I read in Psalms that God has removed our sins as far as the east is from the west. God forgives us. However, as a friend once told me, we have to
accept
His forgiveness before we can forgive ourselves.”

He tapped the rock with his fingertips. “I’ll never forgive myself for killing my brother.”

She understood how he felt. Sometimes, when feelings of guilt overwhelmed her, she wondered if she’d truly accepted God’s forgiveness for all the evil she’d done. “You might learn more about what happened by searching newspaper archives. Or you could ask your Mom what she remembers of the accident.”

“She’s already sad enough about losing Dad.”

“But Matt died at least ten years ago.”

“Sixteen. I’m twenty-eight.”

“So it’s been sixteen years, and you don’t believe your mom can talk about your brother’s death? From what I’ve seen, she’s a strong woman.”

He massaged his jaw. “You’re probably right. I’ll think about talking to her. But enough about me.” He put his hands behind him on the rock and stretched his back. “You ready to take a peek at the canyon?” The twinkle had returned to his eyes.

She gave him a playful nudge. “You said all that to throw me off guard.”

He repositioned to his hands and knees. “Nah, I tell all the girls I’m a murderer.”

“Don’t say that. You’re
not
a murderer.” And she wasn’t a thief or a prostitute or a junkie or—

He smiled. “You ready to go for it?”

She dropped onto her hands and knees beside his solid frame. Inch by inch they crept toward the edge. She felt no fear, just surprise that she was no longer trembling, that she wasn’t flustered by Mike’s nearness.

Tramp whined.

They ignored the dog and continued to crawl until their fingers reached the rim.

Kate liked seeing their hands side by side on the rock.

Mike flicked a pinecone over the edge.

She didn’t hear it land.

“This is it.” He winked at her. “Work your knees backward until you’re flat on your belly.”

Kate’s stomach flip-flopped, and she could barely recall his simple instructions. A close-up wink from Mike was enough to send her over the edge. She swallowed.
Not literally, I hope
.

Together, they flattened their bodies across the slab.

“Now, pull forward.”

One slide from the edge, he turned to her. “You ready, Kate?”

His blue eyes were warm and inviting, his lips just inches away. Tempted to touch his face and feel his skin, she instead looked across the empty expanse before her, acutely aware of his aftershave and the fact she’d never been so intimate with boulders, which had a surprising metallic scent. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Focusing on the far side of the canyon, she wriggled forward until she felt an updraft of air on her cheeks and dropped her gaze. “Oh ...”

Mike elbowed her.

She gasped.

“Sorry. I just wanted to ask what you think of the view.”

“It’s a long,
long
way down.”

Trees covered the slope on the far side of the canyon, but on the wall below them, gray granite columns of rock stood nearly perpendicular with the river, interrupted only by an occasional stunted bush or cluster of yellow wildflowers. A pair of hawks drifted in circles halfway down the chasm. Something dark emerged from the trees on the opposite bank of the river.

“What’s that?”

“A moose.”

“Do you think it’s Mangy’s son or daughter?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know if it’s Mangy’s progeny, but it’s some moose’s
son
. Those antlers are the clue. And look, there’s a couple kayakers coming up the river.”

It didn’t take long for Kate to relax and enjoy the scene with Mike. He pointed out his favorite canyon details and she asked questions, until Tramp whined again.

Mike turned. “It’s okay, boy.”

Kate folded her arms under her chin. “This is fantastic.”

“You can stay here while I get a fire started.”

“No way. If you leave this rock, I leave this rock.”

***

After a buffalo steak dinner, with fried potatoes and coleslaw, they lingered beside the campfire, drinking hot chocolate and watching the sunset paint the sky above the canyon. A fat, round creature the size of a large cat waddled into sight, its silhouetted shape shuffling across the reddened rim.

Tramp barked at the animal, which vanished in the rocks.

Kate looked at Mike. “What was that?”

“A yellow-bellied marmot.” Mike pointed at Tramp, who growled and sniffed the air but avoided the edge of the cliff. “He’s the real yellow-belly.”

Kate called Tramp to her side. After the collie lay down next to her, she turned to Mike. “I’m still waiting to hear what happened to your truck.”

He laughed. “You’re determined to dig all the skeletons out of my closet today.” But he told her the story of Old Blue and the bison cow.

Stroking Tramp’s head, Kate smiled and giggled as Mike recounted his OK Corral tale. Though she didn’t want the magical evening to end, the graying sky made her wonder how difficult it would be to find their way in the dark.

Chapter Sixteen

KATE SETTLED INTO THE
saddle, ready for the ride back to the ranch.

Mike clicked his tongue. “Take us home, Lightning.”

His horse trotted toward the trail.

Honey followed.

Home
. Kate hadn’t been able to call any place home for years … hadn’t wanted to call any other place home. But the Whispering Pines felt right, like the home-sweet-home she’d always longed for.

She glanced around the dark forest, amazed to see the trail was still discernible, as were the aspen trees’ silver trunks. Wyoming’s summer skies, she’d noticed, seemed to hold a dusky glow long after the sun dropped below the horizon.

Ahead of her, Lightning snorted and tramped an agitated sidestep.

Honey raised her head, ears pricked.

Kate patted her neck. “It’s okay, girl.”

She watched Mike patiently calm his horse. Unlike so many men she’d known, he seemed to be a genuinely decent guy—the
real deal
, as Aunt Mary would say. Maybe nothing more would come of their evening together, but she was glad they could be friends again.

Honey squealed and danced to the left.

Lightning circled and pranced, the whites of his eyes obvious even in the murky light.

Tramp growled.

Kate was struggling to maneuver her horse back onto the trail, when a snarling yowl knifed through the night, and a dark shape scurried between the horses.

Honey reared.

Kate grabbed for the saddle horn, but only grazed it with her fingertips as she flew backward. A loud snap echoed inside her skull and darkness sucked her into a hollow galaxy streaked with daggers of stabbing light.

She fought to remain conscious. But before she could part the haze that clouded her vision and understand the cacophony of sounds beating against her brain, shadows summoned her. She heard Mike’s voice calling, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Her body was too heavy.

“Kate!” His hand gripped her shoulder. “Talk to me!”

She fell down, down into the void. She could hear Tramp. The dog alternated between whimpers and growls, close, distant, close again.

“Are you hurt? Tell me what hurts.”

She wanted to sleep, to rest at the bottom of the black hole. She was so tired. But Mike tapped her hands, slapped her cheeks, yanked her to the surface.

His breathing sounded labored. “Please answer me.”

She felt Tramp lick her face. Slowly, she opened an eye.

Mike loomed inches from her face. “Can you see me?”

“Yes.” She could only whisper. “What …?”

“The horses spooked. Then Honey threw you and took off.”

“She’ll …” She forced her other eyelid open. “…get lost.”

“Don’t worry about Honey. She’ll find her way to the ranch before we get there.”

Kate tried to lift her head, but an explosion behind her eyes forced it back down. “She groaned. “What was … animal noise?”

“A cougar. But it’s gone now. Tell me where you’re hurting.”

She took a ragged breath. “I thought it would be bigger.”

“What would?”

“The cougar. Its paw prints were so big.” Kate bit her lip against the pain that slipped through the haze.

“Did you see it?”

“I saw something dark run across the trail, but it was small.”

“The cat was probably chasing a smaller animal, and we got in the way.”

She moaned.

He leaned close again. “What hurts, Kate?”

“My head … my leg.”

“Which leg?”

She had to think about the source of the pain, which was beginning to encompass her entire body. “Left.”

Mike palpated the leg through her jeans.

“Ouch!” The pain was incredible. “Stop. Please.”

He lifted his hand. “Your leg is broken.”

Tramp nudged her neck.

Mike smoothed hair from her cheek. “I’ll have to go for help.”

“I could ride with you on Lightning.”

“If you have a back or neck injury, riding could paralyze you. Or permanently mess up your leg.”

She clutched his arm. “But I don’t want you to leave me.” What was she saying? She’d learned long ago not to ask any man for anything. She released her grip.

“I have to go. But I’ll leave Tramp here.”

“Can’t you radio for help?”

He exhaled an exasperated huff.

She turned away. “I’m sorry, I just thought …”

“I’m not angry with you.” He bent down and kissed her forehead.

She blinked.
What was that about?

“I’m mad at myself for leaving the radio at home so nobody could bother us …” He shook his head. “I told you you shouldn’t trust me.”

“Oh, Mike.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. Even in the gloom, she could sense the depth of his chagrin. “I am touched beyond words that you wanted to have an evening alone with me.”

He wrapped his hand around hers.

A sharp pain stabbed through her leg. Kate gasped and jerked.

He released her hand. “I have ibuprofen in the saddlebag. We’ll load you up and trust it keeps the pain bearable until I get help.”

When he walked away, the night, which had seemed to glow earlier, pressed down so hard Kate wondered if she’d sink back into the abyss.

He returned with full arms and a glowing flashlight. “I’ll help you swallow some pills then leave the rest with you along with a water flask and the flashlight. I also brought blankets and a revolver.”

She moved her head back and forth. No more stars behind her eyelids, but a headache mushroomed between her temples. “I can move my neck. I think it’s okay.”

He tapped pills into her hand. “I hope so, but we’d better not take any chances.” He handed her the canteen. “See if you can drink without raising your head.”

She swallowed the pills.

He took the canteen and covered her with the blankets.

“What’s with the gun?”

“Wildlife. Tramp will chase off anything that wanders by. The gun is just added insurance.” He moved the flashlight and revolver where she could reach them. “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

She hated to admit guns and violence were a part of her past. But she didn’t want him to worry. “Yes.”

“Good. It’s loaded. Don’t hesitate to use it, if you need to.”

“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“I hate to leave you, but it’s getting late. I’ll bring help as fast as I can.”

“I know you will. I
trust
you, Mike.”

“You’re a trooper.” He pressed his lips against her forehead one more time.

She touched his jaw again, reveling in the smoky smell of his shirt and the feel of his lips on her skin and her fingers on his.

“Better go.” His voice was husky. He mounted Lightning and rode several yards up the trail, Tramp running alongside the horse. Mike stopped to interlace aspen saplings across the path and hang a canvas bag from the juncture. “This’ll be our marker, so we don’t trample you in the dark.”

She could barely see him, but she could tell he motioned to his dog. “Stay, Tramp. Take care of Kate.” And he was gone.

Tramp trotted to her side. Like a stalwart soldier, he stood at attention, uttering soft, sad moans as he watched the dusk devour his master.

Kate felt her tears slide into her hair. In a matter of days, she was sprawled across another trail. At least she was on her back this time, not her belly
.
She blotted her face and hair with a blanket. Last time Mike had found her. This time, he left her. But he’d promised to return. Already, she longed for his touch.