Big Sky Mountain Part 28

For Kendra, the rest of the event pa.s.sed in a blur of cowboys and bulls and disconnected words booming over the loudspeakers, all of that underpinned by enthusiastic applause. She sat holding Madison a little too tightly, trying not to imagine how Hutch's ride-or that of some other cowboy-could have turned out.

The effort was futile, and by the time Hutch and the other winners were announced and the closing ceremony began-the announcer thanked everybody for coming and reminded them to stick around, check out the goods on offer in the exhibition hall, and enjoy the carnival and, later on, the fireworks-Kendra was weak in the knees.

She and Madison met Hutch, as agreed, outside the arena gate.

Seeing him again, up close, all in one piece, Kendra felt a humiliating urge to cry and fling herself into his arms. Fortunately, she didn't give in to that clingy, codependent compulsion.

"Congratulations," she said mildly, stiffening her spine and lifting her chin.

But Madison was much more forthright. She marched over to Hutch, set her little hands on her hips and tipped her head back to look up at him. Her hat tumbled down her back, dangling by the string Kendra meant to snip off with scissors at the first opportunity. "I don't like it when you ride boy-cows," she informed him. "You could get hurt!"

Hutch smiled, crouched down to look into Madison's pleasantly grungy face and gently tugged at one of her curls. "I'm just fine, shortstop," he said quietly. He might have been talking to an adult, from his tone, rather than a child. He spoke firmly to Madison, but addressed her as an equal. "See?"

Madison softened, as he'd intended. "Do you ride boy-cows a lot?" she wanted to know.

"No," he replied. "Just once a year when the rodeo rolls around."

Madison mulled that over. Being so young, she probably didn't have any real conception of such an extended length of time. A year, most likely, sounded a lot like forever.

Kendra, on the other hand, knew those twelve months would pa.s.s quickly. Would she and Madison be right here when it was rodeo time again, watching this man deliberately take his life in his hands? Or would Hutch have grown tired of them by then, and moved on to some other woman?

She didn't trust herself to say a word in that moment; just stood there, frustrated and scared and wanting Hutch Carmody more than she ever had before.

What was wrong with her?

Why couldn't she just stay away from this man, find somebody else-an insurance agent, say, or a schoolteacher, or an electrician, if she had to walk on the wild side?

Anybody but a cowboy.

Hutch rose easily from his haunches, bent and hoisted Madison into his arms.

She yawned and rested her head against his shoulder, her pink cowgirl hat bobbing between her shoulder blades.

Kendra slipped the hat off over Madison's head and carried it for her.

"I think a certain little cowgirl could use some peace and quiet," Hutch said, looking at Kendra over Madison's bright tousle of hair. "What if we head out to my place for a while?" Seeing the protest brewing in Kendra's eyes, he immediately added, "Opal's there and the fireworks won't start for hours."

Kendra sighed, then gave in with a nod.

Madison clearly needed a break from all the hubbub and excitement, and so did she.

They left the fairgrounds, Madison asleep on Hutch's shoulder and barely waking up when he unlocked the truck and set her gently in her safety seat.

"Did I miss the fireworks?" the child asked drowsily.

"Nope," Hutch said, buckling her in. "We're going out to the ranch to spend some time with Opal and Ruffles, but we'll be back in plenty of time to watch the sky light up. And look-here's your teddy bear, sitting right here waiting for you."

Madison nodded and smiled and drifted off, her head resting against the bear's plush pink shoulder.

Kendra, evidently relegated to sidekick status and feeling like a third wheel, went around the truck, opened the pa.s.senger door and climbed inside quickly. She didn't want to linger, taking the chance that Hutch might goose her in the backside again, the way he had before they left her place.

A wicked little thrill zapped through her at the memory, though.

The drive to the ranch pa.s.sed in silence, Madison sleeping in back, Kendra at a loss for anything to say, Hutch easy in his skin, as usual, and thinking his own thoughts.

When they pulled in at Whisper Creek, Opal was outside, taking laundry down off the clothesline. Leviticus supervised from beneath a shady tree.

She smiled and waved when she saw them, picked up her laundry basket, and started for the house.

Hutch was carrying Madison, so Kendra took the basket from Opal, after a brief, good-natured tugging match.

"That's one worn-out little child," Opal observed as Madison snoozed on, her small arms wrapped loosely around Hutch's neck. "You were right to bring her away from all that dirt and noise at the rodeo."

"We'll be going back in a few hours," Hutch replied. "She's dead-set on taking in the fireworks."

Opal chuckled warmly at that, and softly. "You put her in there on my bed," she told Hutch, gesturing toward a doorway leading off the kitchen. "That way she'll be able to hear our voices when she wakes up and won't be startled to find herself in a strange place."

Kendra followed Hutch, watched as he laid the child on Opal's quilted bed, tenderly pulled off her new boots and draped a lightweight comforter over her.

There he goes again, acting like a daddy.

Madison stirred and then succ.u.mbed to happy exhaustion.

Back in the kitchen, Opal was pouring coffee for Hutch and Kendra, and brewing tea for herself. The counters were lined with a wide a.s.sortment of ca.s.seroles and home-baked pies.

"Somebody die?" Hutch asked, reaching toward one of the pies. Leviticus stayed close to him, plainly adoring the man.

Opal stopped what she was doing long enough to slap his hand away. "No," she said with a sharpness that was soft at the center, "n.o.body died. We're getting a new pastor-Lloyd's decided to retire, G.o.d bless him-and he'll be introduced to the congregation tomorrow morning."

Kendra, who had missed the last couple of Sunday services, felt mildly chagrined that she hadn't known such a change was in the works. She opened her mouth to comment, couldn't think of a single thing to say and closed it again.

"You can have some of that cherry crumble over there," Opal told Hutch, gesturing toward a pan sitting all alone on top of the stove. "I made that especially for you."

"Yes," Hutch said, homing in on the cherry crumble.

Kendra, meanwhile, sat down to sip from the cup of coffee Opal gave her.

"Want some of this?" Hutch asked from across the room, lifting a plate with a double helping of dessert scooped onto it.

"No, thanks," Kendra said with a weary smile. "It looks delicious, but I've had way too much sugar today as it is."

Hutch came to the table, set his plate down and sat. "You keep this up, Opal," he teased, admiring the food, "and I might have to put you on my payroll."

Opal laughed and waved a scoffing hand at him. "That'll be the day," she said. "Slade Barlow signs my paychecks. I'm only here to keep you from turning into a seedy old coot who hangs flags and blankets up for window curtains and eats every meal out of a tin can."

Hutch laughed at the image and nearly choked on the bite he'd just taken.

Kendra, on edge since the bull-riding compet.i.tion, relaxed a little and even smiled.

"Anyhow," Opal went on, taking a place at the table to sip her tea, "I'm beginning to think there's hope for you after all, Hutch Carmody." She glanced at Kendra, smiled. "Yes, sir, I do think there's hope."

Kendra, catching the other woman's meaning, squirmed a little. "So," she said with a little too much spirit, "Pastor Lloyd is retiring. Will there be a party in his honor?"

Opal nodded. "Sure," she said. "We're planning it for tomorrow, right after church." An odd, distant expression came into her dark eyes as she pondered, gazing past Kendra's right shoulder and into deep s.p.a.ce. "The new fellow," she went on, "is a dead ringer for Morgan Freeman. Went to Harvard. And he's single, too. A widower, like my Willie was."

Hutch chuckled at that, but he was too busy consuming cherry crumble to make any remarks. Evidently, riding bulls took a lot out of a person, producing a desperate need for simple carbohydrates. Subtly, he slipped a bite or two to the dog.

"You've met him?" Kendra asked, mainly to make conversation, though she was a little intrigued by Opal's sudden wistful mood.

Opal shook her head, and the gesture seemed to bring her back from wherever mental territory she'd wandered off to. "I saw his picture, though," she said, and Kendra would have sworn the woman was blushing a little, her mahogany cheeks taking on a rosy glow. "I'm on the pastoral selection committee, you know."

Hutch swallowed, drank some coffee and jammed his fork back into what remained of his cherry crumble. "You hired the man because you think he's good-looking?" he asked in a teasing tone. "Why, Opal, a person would almost get the impression that you're on the lookout for another husband."

She swatted at him, trying hard not to laugh. "You hush," she chortled, obviously embarra.s.sed.

"I'll dance at your wedding," Hutch told her, still grinning.

"You and weddings," she said, and then made a dismissive sound, conveying faux disgust, and rose to leave the table. "There's a combination for you." She paused, sighed, and adjusted the knot at the back of her ap.r.o.n. "I've got a lot of cooking to do," she said, "so I'll thank you to let me get on with it."

Hutch finished the cherry crumble and carried his plate to the sink, where he dutifully rinsed it and set it in the dishwasher, along with the fork.

"I wouldn't mind getting some fresh air," he said.

Again, Kendra felt that strange, surging rush of heat. Her heart struggled up into her throat and pounded there. Was he suggesting...

"It's a beautiful day," Opal said, careful not to look in Kendra's direction. "Why don't you two take a walk or a horseback ride? I'll be glad to look after the Little Miss while you're gone, and Leviticus will be my helper."

Kendra might as well have been back on the Tilt-a-Whirl at the carnival, the way that room seemed to spin and dip around her.

A walk would probably be harmless, but she didn't dare go riding with Hutch because she knew where they'd end up.

At the same time, she couldn't bring herself to say no.

To say anything at all.

Hutch looked at her, one eyebrow slightly raised in question.

"Go ahead," Opal told her, blissfully unaware that she, a church-going, Bible-believing woman, was propelling Kendra straight into the dark, raging heart of sin. "Madison will be just fine. Fact is, you'll probably be back before she even wakes up from her nap."

Five minutes later, still dazed, Kendra found herself in the barn, watching as Hutch saddled horses for both of them.

Occasionally, he glanced in her direction, but no words pa.s.sed between them until he'd saddled both horses and led them out into the afternoon sunshine.

There, Hutch turned to look straight into her eyes. His expression was solemn but not sad, calm but not complacent. He'd been clean-shaven that morning, but now his caramel-colored beard was coming in.

"If you want to stay behind," he told her, "now's the time to say so."

Kendra swallowed hard. Nodded.

Hutch had left his hat in the house for whatever reason, though he was still wearing the same dusty rodeo clothes as before, and he ran a hand through his hair. "You do know where we're headed?" he persisted.

Again, Kendra swallowed and nodded. She walked over to her horse, the same one she'd ridden that other time, put a foot in the stirrup and almost sprang up into the saddle. She took the reins in hand and waited for Hutch to lead the way.

He sighed, shook his head once and finally flashed a devastating grin at her. "So be it," he said, and they were off.

Kendra followed. It was as though there were two women sharing her body-one sensible and wary, the other reckless and wild.

At the moment, the latter was winning out.

Neither of them spoke as they crossed the range, though Hutch looked back at her once over his right shoulder, before urging his gelding onto the trail that twisted up the mountainside toward the hidden meadow.

Stop, turn around, go back, Sensible Kendra pleaded.

I want this man, countered Reckless Kendra. I want him and I need him and I don't care if it's wrong.

There will be consequences, warned her reasonable side.

She knew that was true, but it didn't stop her, didn't even slow her down.

Her mutinous body had taken over, pushing aside her fretful mind with all its dreads and worries.

The meadow was just as she remembered it, shady and secluded and, at the same time, offering a wide view of Parable and the surrounding land.

They dismounted, still without speaking, and Hutch led the horses into a patch of sweetgra.s.s nearby, draping the reins loosely over their necks so they wouldn't trip over them, leaving them to graze.

Kendra, meanwhile, approached the curious pile of stones.

"What's this?" she asked when Hutch appeared beside her, their arms touching.

"A way of getting things out of my system, I guess," he replied.

Kendra frowned, puzzled.

He turned her to face him, resting his hands lightly beneath her elbows. "Those are my regrets," he explained, inclining his head toward the pile of stones. "Every rock represents something I'd like to change but can't. I figured stacking them in a pile was better than carrying their counterparts around in my head."

The statement made an odd kind of sense to Kendra, though at the moment, little else did.

Was she really here, in the secret meadow, alone with Hutch Carmody?

As if in answer, he cupped her chin in his hand, bent his head and kissed her. At first, it was just a light brush of his lips against hers, but then it deepened, grew hot and moist, and Kendra's arms went around his neck, while his tightened around her torso, holding her close.

For Kendra, that kiss was a fiery balm, not just to her body but to her spirit, as well. She returned it fiercely, letting go of everything but the heady sensations Hutch stirred in her, the wild needs, the treacherous joy, the sweet sorrow of knowing that life is short and precious.

"I guess that's a yes," Hutch said with a raspy chuckle when the kiss finally ended.

Kendra laughed, and they kissed again, even more hungrily this time.

They eased downward into the thick carpet of gra.s.s without their mouths parting, did battle with their tongues, pushed and tugged at each other's clothes.