Authors: Cathy McDavid
“I admire you. It’s a big risk you’re taking. Most women would
be scared.”
“I’m scared, all right. Petrified. But I have the support of my
family and friends. And my work. Photography is something I can continue while
I’m pregnant, and after the baby’s born.”
He made a face.
“What?” she demanded.
“You’d bring a baby along on a wagon ride?”
“Not all my shoots are in the mountains.”
“Or from three thousand feet up?”
He’d remembered the photos she took last year that now appeared
in a calendar. “Guess I won’t be hot-air ballooning for a while, either.”
He was right. Her entire life would soon be completely
different.
Was she making the right decisions for everyone concerned? Most
important, her baby?
She and Conner reached the top of the hill. He drew the horses
to a stop so they could rest.
Dallas had lived in the Scottsdale area her entire life and
considered herself familiar with the landscape, having photographed it countless
times. Even so, the view sent a rush of awe coursing through her.
“Cool, huh?” Conner grinned as if he’d discovered this view
himself.
“Way cool.” Without thinking, she bent and reached for her
camera bag on the floorboard beneath their feet. The strap evaded her grasp, and
she had to abandon her efforts. “Is it possible for us to get out? I’d love some
shots.”
“No problem. The girls could use a rest.”
He reached around her and set the brake. Gripping her hand, he
steadied her as she climbed down the side of the wagon. Only when she was safely
afoot did he wrap the reins around the handle and descend. Dolly and Molly
didn’t budge, except to give each other a disinterested sniff.
While Dallas clicked away, Conner waited beside the horses,
gripping Molly’s bridle.
“You were right. The view is amazing.” Dallas was already
mentally composing the list of contacts she’d send the photos to in the hopes of
making a sale.
Conner materialized beside her. “Watch you don’t get too close
to the edge.” He took her elbow, drew her back a step.
A step that brought her up close and personal with him.
Tall. Broad. Strong. Masculine.
The
words blinked in her mind like a flashing neon sign. Conner was all those things
and more.
“I’ll be careful,” she assured him. Careful to keep a watch on
her heart. He could easily steal it.
She returned to the wagon bed and reached in the ice chest for
a bottle of water. What she really needed was space. No reason to put ideas in
either of their heads.
Dallas might be over Richard, but she was still vulnerable. She
didn’t need a man messing with her priorities. Derailing her plans.
She’d seen the results of that firsthand with her mother.
Moving to a different spot, she continued snapping pictures.
The mountains, harsh and primitive, erupted from the earth like an offering to
the heavens. At their base, the city, with all its modern wonders, spread out in
every direction, devouring the landscape.
These were the kind of photographs Dallas sought, the ones that
told a story.
Conner appeared in her viewfinder, unaware that the camera had
found him. He stood staring at the city. Behind him, a rocky brown ridge rose
like a wall. Cacti and shrubs grew out of it, clinging to existence against
impossible odds.
Molly, her head beside Conner’s, also stared at the city, with
a look of ancient wisdom in her eyes.
It was as if the past and present were colliding right there in
front of Dallas.
Talk about a story.
Chills ran up her arms as she snapped a quick shot. Then a half
dozen more. Instinct told her these would be her best pictures of the day.
“You done?” Conner asked.
“I am.” God, she loved her work.
The drive to the box canyon took another hour and a half,
during which Dallas and Conner chatted amiably.
In the canyon, he tethered the horses to a tree and then
fetched water for them from a natural spring. They drank lustily, emptying one
bucketful after another.
Dallas unloaded the ice chest, adding the trail mix and protein
bars she’d brought to Conner’s canned tuna fish, crackers and apples. It was, in
her opinion, a perfect lunch.
Afterward, they walked the length of the box canyon. He watched
over her as she got all the pictures she needed and then some. Several shots
included him, but none were as compelling as the ones from the top of that first
hill.
When they finally pulled out, about two o’clock, Dallas’s
eyelids were drooping. Sleeping was impossible with the wagon bumping noisily
along the narrow trail.
“Thanks again for taking me today,” she said.
“My pleasure.”
Hers, too.
“Can you imagine what it must have been like, crossing the
country in a wagon? How incredibly tough those people were to have endured the
hardships they did.”
Her comment sparked a lively discussion about pioneers heading
west, which eventually segued into one about the history of Mustang Valley.
Before Dallas knew it, they were ascending the first of the large hills.
She scanned the horizon, always on the lookout for more photo
ops. All at once, a metallic twang sounded, like a coiled spring being
released.
Conner glanced down and swore, then yanked on the reins. “Whoa,
girls.” To Dallas, he said, “Pull the brake.”
“What’s wrong?” She responded to the urgency in his voice, her
fingers grabbing for the brake handle as a spear of alarm sliced through
her.
Chapter Four
Once the draft horses were at a standstill, Conner
peered over the side of the wagon and assessed the damage. He didn’t like what
he saw.
In a matter of seconds, the entire flat iron tire had
separated, remaining attached to the wheel by a single bolt.
“Conner?” The concern in Dallas’s voice reminded him that he
hadn’t answered her question.
“We’ve damaged a wheel.” He reached behind her and checked the
brake, making sure it was set firmly. Handing her the reins, he started to climb
down. “Stay put.”
“Wait!” She perched on the edge of the seat. “What if the
horses bolt? I’m not sure I can hold them back.”
“They won’t bolt.” He threaded the reins through her fingers.
“Just keep a steady hold on these.”
Dolly and Molly waited patiently, though holding the heavy
wagon on an uphill grade couldn’t be easy.
“You sure?”
“I need you to stay calm.” He reached up and rested a hand on
her shin. “The only reason these horses would run off is to get away from your
squealing.”
“I’m not squealing,” she insisted, doing precisely that.
“Right.” Conner hid a grin as he squatted beside the wagon to
examine the damaged wheel.
“How bad is it?”
“The tire came off.”
“I thought wagons had wheels.”
He touched the dangling band of metal. “This is called a flat
iron tire. It protects the wood.”
She scooted to the edge of the seat and angled her head for a
better look. “Can you just take it off?”
“I could try, but we wouldn’t get far before damaging the wheel
beyond repair. Then we’d really be stuck, and Gavin would have to come after us
with a truck and trailer.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Call for backup.” He removed his phone from his belt and
checked the reception, which could be hit-or-miss in the mountains. “Have Gavin
bring us a drill and spare bolts so we can repair the tire enough to make it
home.”
When he powered up his phone, the screen flashed No Service.
“Dammit,” he muttered. Served him right for changing to a cheaper carrier.
“Where’s your phone?”
Dallas looked stricken. “In my purse. Locked in my car. I
didn’t think it would work up here, so I didn’t bother bringing it.”
He scanned the area, debated his options. “I’ll walk up the
hill. Should have better reception up there. But first...”
Seeing what he needed, he set out on foot.
“Where are you going?” Dallas stared over her shoulder at him,
her grip on the reins viselike.
“Not far.” Collecting two large rocks, he wedged them tightly
behind the rear wagon wheels. He quickly located two more rocks and did the same
with the front wheels. The extra precaution should prevent the wagon from
rolling backward until they were rescued.
Next, he began unhitching the horses.
“Should I get down now?”
“Sit still. Keep hold of the reins until I tell you it’s
okay.”
She grimaced nervously but complied.
Conner hurried.
“Good job, girls,” he said, unhooking the last chain and giving
Molly’s rump a pat. He returned to Dallas, who was more than happy to relinquish
the reins.
He watched her every move as she climbed down, ready to grab
her if she slipped.
It turned out Dallas was nimble as a monkey. On the ground, she
swiped her hands together with a job-well-done flourish. “Need any help?”
“I’m good.”
“Too bad we didn’t bring along a spare saddle and bridle. We
could have ridden out.”
“I’d have rather brought a toolbox. I won’t make that mistake
again.”
Conner led the horses to a tree, the largest in the vicinity,
and tied them securely. “Be right back,” he said, and headed in the direction of
the hilltop.
“Can I come with you?” Dallas chased after him.
“Better stay. Someone has to watch the wagon and horses.”
“If that wagon rolls backward, I won’t be much help.”
“You can holler. I’ll come running.”
“By then it will be too late.”
“Would you rather call Gavin? He’ll need directions on where to
find us. And a list of what tools to bring.”
“I won’t be much help with that, either.” She shrugged. “I have
no clue where we are.”
He brushed a tousled lock of hair from her face. Her skin was
cool to the touch and incredibly soft. “It’s going to be fine. The worse that
will happen is we’re late for dinner.”
Possibly really late if he didn’t get through to Gavin.
He’d be stuck with Dallas. For hours. Maybe all night. They’d
have to cuddle in the wagon under the tarp to stay warm.
“I, um—” he cleared his suddenly dry throat “—I’d better get
going.”
Her fingers clutched his jacket sleeve, delaying him. “I’m
sorry to be such a wimp.”
“It’s okay to be scared.”
“I’m not scared.” She lifted her face to his. “Not with
you.”
He was sure she could read his every thought, sense his every
emotion.
Warning bells went off inside Conner’s head, creating an
enormous din. He moved quickly away before temptation won out and he crossed the
line into dangerous territory.
* * *
H
ALFWAY
TO
THE
TOP
,
Conner glanced back at Dallas. She’d perched on a large boulder not far from the
wagon, hugging her knees. Was she thinking of him? Of those moments that kept
occurring between them?
He was.
Impatient, he dug out his phone. One bar appeared in the
corner. Enough to try.
The signal took forever to connect, the icon blinking
endlessly. Frustrated, Conner hit the end-call button and tried again. Finally,
Gavin answered.
“Conner, what’s up?”
“We have a problem.”
“You there? I can barely hear you, buddy.”
Sharp static cut off every third word. Conner strode farther up
the hill. “Is this better?”
“Some.”
Speaking loudly, he quickly summarized their predicament.
“We’ll take the ATVs,” Gavin told him. “It’ll be quicker than
riding. I doubt the Forest Service will give us grief for using them, since it’s
an emergency.”
Before Conner finished with the details of their location, he
lost the connection. Moving to a new spot made no difference. He blamed the
clouds, which had drifted to gather overhead. Not rain clouds, fortunately.
Tomorrow, however, would be a different story, according to the weather
report.
He could only hope he’d relayed enough information to Gavin for
him to find them. In their favor, no one else in these parts knew the McDowell
Mountains better than his friend.
Dallas hopped to her feet at Conner’s approach, relief written
all over her face. “I heard you talking to someone.”
“Gavin’s on his way.” Conner decided not to worry her about the
incomplete directions. “My guess is he’ll bring one or two guys with him.”
“How soon till they get here?” She rubbed her arms through the
material of her thin jacket.
“An hour. Two at the most. Are you cold?”
“Not yet.” She peered anxiously at the clouds.
“I brought the rain ponchos. They’re also good for conserving
body heat.”
“That may come in handy if Gavin’s late.” She reached over the
side of the wagon for the ice chest and opened the lid. “Right now, I’m
thirsty.” She removed two bottles of water. “Want one?”
“How comfortable is that boulder?” Conner downed half his
bottle.
“Not very.”
“There’s a nice spot over there.” He indicated a place near the
horses. “We can sit while we wait for Gavin.”
Her mouth turned down at the corners. “Looks a little
rocky.”
“I can fix that.” Conner stepped around her, gripped the edge
of the wagon seat and pushed up. It immediately came loose.
Dallas gasped. “You mean to tell me that thing’s not nailed
down? What if it had come off during the ride?”
Conner removed the seat and set it on the ground. “We’d have
had to be going over a pretty big bump at a full gallop for that to happen.”
She didn’t look reassured.
“Come on.” He carried the wagon seat to the spot he’d chosen
and set it down, making sure it was stable. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing
grandly.
Playing along, she gave a little curtsy before sitting. “Thank
you, sir.”
He joined her, the seat bouncing on its spindly legs.
The location was a good one. It allowed them an unobstructed
view of the trail, the wagon, the horses and the city.
“What are the chances someone will come riding by?” Dallas
asked.
“Not much. This isn’t the most popular route.”
“I should get my camera.” Dallas’s gaze wandered. “Could be
worse. At least the scenery’s beautiful.”
Conner studied her profile. “It sure is.”
“I know that’s South Mountain, and over there’s Camelback.” She
pointed to a craggy range in the far distance. “Which mountains are those?”
“The White Tanks,” he answered, without taking his eyes off her
face.
“Incredible,” she breathed. “We can see the entire valley from
here.”
She must have become aware of his scrutiny because she turned
to face him. “Do you even know where I was pointing?”
“Yes.”
Laughter bubbled out of her, lively and enchanting.
If not for his mouth having gone completely dry, he’d have
joined her.
Was she the least bit aware of her effect on him?
“I had dinner at my parents’ last night.”
She was distracting him with small talk.
“How are they?”
“Good.
“I bet your mom’s happy about the baby.”
“Are you kidding? She’s ecstatic. Already making plans. Has a
furniture maker friend building a cradle and an artist friend designing a mural
for the nursery wall. She said to tell you hello, by the way.”
“Give her my regards.” The wagon seat creaked in protest as
Conner shifted. There wasn’t much room, and their thighs inadvertently brushed,
then their elbows.
Dallas didn’t seem to mind. Conner sure didn’t.
“Hank mentioned he may have some clients who are hiring. He’s
going to make some calls tomorrow.”
Conner’s defenses rose. He hated the idea of Dallas and her
family discussing his lack of employment. “I don’t want to impose on him.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Conner didn’t need help. Not from Dallas or her family. He was
more than capable of finding a job on his own. “Since when did I become dinner
conversation?”
“I was telling them about our trip today, and they asked how
you were.”
“I see.” He leaned forward and struck a closed fist on his
knee.
Dallas must have realized all was not well. “Did I do something
wrong?” She placed a hand on his arm.
Her tenderness and compassion could be his undoing if he let
it.
“I’m not one to take handouts from people.” He had enough
trouble with Gavin and Clay. At least he could repay their generosity with hard
work.
“Hank calling some of his clients isn’t a handout. He’s being
nice.”
She was right. Conner was letting that damnable pride of his
get in the way. Instead, he should be exploring every opportunity regardless of
the source.
“Thanks.” He covered her hand, which still rested on his arm.
“I like that you’re thinking of me.”
“It’s only fair, after all the help you’re giving me.”
“You really think the book can boost your career?”
“I hope so.” A wistfulness came over her. “Someday, my photos
are going to be hanging right there alongside Dorothea Lange’s.”
“Who’s that?”
Dallas gawked at him in disbelief. “Only the most influential
documentary photographer of the twentieth century.”
“Oh, her.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I thought your commercial business was doing well.”
“It is. Pays the bills. Keeps me busy and out of trouble.”
“But you want more.”
“What can I say? I crave fame and success. You understand.”
He did. The success part, anyway. He also understood how
reaching for the stars could result in a spectacular fall.
“Mostly, I want people to look at my pictures and do more than
say isn’t that nice.” The wistfulness from earlier returned. “I want them to get
goose bumps. Be inspired. Moved to tears. Have their perspectives changed. Heck,
maybe even their lives.”
“Wow.”
“I know it’s a lot.” Her cheeks reddened. “And I sound like an
egomaniac.”
“No, I’m just...impressed. And jealous.”
“Of what?”
“You’re lucky to be so passionate about your job. Most of us
head off to the office, put in our eight hours and head home.”
“Didn’t you have that kind of passion when you were at
Triad?”
He nodded. “I figured on a promotion every few years and
staying put till I retired. I never thought for one second it would end like it
did.”
“Or that Richard would take over your job?”
“That, either.” He tamped down the anger that still hovered
just beneath the surface.
“You must hate him,” she said sympathetically.
“Not hate.”
“Despise?”
“I held a grudge.
Hold
a grudge,
don’t get me wrong. But I’m not angry at him. Not over the company-wide
downsizing and his promotion.” Conner rubbed his closed fist on his thigh. “He’s
also trying to do right by you and the baby, and I respect that.”
“You think I should marry him?”
“I think you should consider it. Seriously. He can take good
care of both of you. Provide a financially stable life.”
Unlike Conner.
“What about love?”
“You said yourself you’ll always care for him. And you loved
him once. Enough to get engaged.”
“I think I was enamored with the idea of being in love. And
vulnerable at the time.”
Because of him? Conner was hesitant to ask, not sure how he’d
respond if she answered yes.
“Richard was everything I thought I was looking for then.” She
stared forlornly at the horizon.” I’ve been unfair to him, and I won’t compound
it by marrying for the wrong reason.”