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Well, Kerry was as stubborn as ever.
John wished he could find the trait annoying. Instead, he admired
it.
He’d always loved her spirit, her courage, her willingness
to put her whole heart into everything she did. He couldn’t
believe she was here, in his cave--it couldn’t be coincidence.
So was it fate? Or had Zach conspired to bring them together? He
thought of their conversation in the bar, that warning about Kerry’s
upcoming engagement and knew that couldn’t be it.
"Here." He passed Kerry a stick of beef jerky. She poked
a bare arm out from the sleeping bag, her smooth tanned shoulder
gleaming. Already her hair had started to dry and lay like cashmere
against her skin.
If this was fate at work, then what a cruel fate it was. He needed
to forget about Kerry Dumas. He'd come here to plan his future without
her. Now he was faced with her company in the intimate confines
of this cave, in the midst of a desolate wilderness.
That she was close to naked inside that sleeping bag--her cotton
briefs and bra on bold display in front of him--was the final, ironic
twist to the entire setup.
"You have some, too, John."
"Fine." He helped himself to a stick of the jerky. "I
was going to brew tea. Want a cup?"
"Please."
Kerry had the basic supplies in her pack, but he chose to use his
own. Over the years he'd been coming here, he'd collected a variety
of cooking implements, including a concave stone he used for boiling
water. Into this he placed some of the herbs he'd gathered that
morning.
"Those look interesting. Nothing narcotic, I hope,” Kerry
said, watching him.
For the first time in days, John felt amused. "As if I would
dare pull a stunt like that with a woman who wouldn't even touch
a cigarette."
 She
remembered right away, and made a face at him. "They were vile-smelling."
He had to laugh. She'd been twelve, and it had been a dare, and
he knew it had killed her to back down. He'd found the half empty
package buried in some straw while they were cleaning stalls, fallen
from the pocket of a ranch hand, probably.
The tea was ready. He poured steaming liquid into makeshift cups
and passed her one. Again, he was favored with a view of feminine
shoulder, the sharp line of her collarbone, the hint of swelling
lower down...
"It's hot," he warned. "Be careful."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "Yeah. Boiling liquids are
like that."
It had been so long since they'd been alone together. He'd forgotten
how she hated protective behavior. As the youngest in the Dumas
clan, however, he knew she still garnered plenty of it from her
family. And probably from just about every eligible male that she
met.
Kerry was tall and fit, but her delicate facial structure made her
seem fragile, and no amount of grime, or tough talk, or even ability,
could overcome that impression. Add in the limp, a congenital defect
that she refused to acknowledge, but which had to cause her a lot
of pain and fatigue, and what was a man to do?
All his life John had wanted to look out for her. And she'd fought
him every time he tried.
So why expect this time to be any different?
“Okay, we’ve eaten. Now let's look at the map." He
bent over the yellow, stained document. And remembered...
Last time he’d seen this, he’d been eight. Kerry had been
certain she’d found the yellow brick trail to a treasure trove
of riches. And he’d been satisfied just to have a dream to
hold onto. If only for a little while.
Over the years, he’d thought about the map and wondered. But
by the time he and Kerry were old enough to make an honest effort
of the job, Kerry was in private school and they hardly saw each
other. And when she came home for the holidays, each time he was
blown away by the changes in her. The emerging woman had excited
him, but frightened him, too.
 He
knew who he was and who she was, and that there were certain fantasies
that could never come true. It was more likely that he would find
a carved chest full of gold and diamonds than that he could ever
have Kerry as his woman. He'd known this truth all along--and so
he'd hidden his feelings. But, fool that he was, he hadn't stopped
dreaming.
Not
about treasure.
About the girl.
END OF EXCERPT. LIKE IT? ORDER
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