The whole thing was as puzzling to him as the war- iness reflected in Carrie’s manner. True, he had de- ceived her with that harmless jackalope story, but after the way he had kissed her the other night, Judson couldn’t imagine that she would doubt his feelings to- ward her. What kind of a man did she think he was anyway?
“Estelle and I are just old friends. She’d like it to be more than that, but I’m not in love with her and I wouldn’t hurt her like that.”
For a man not used to explaining himself, Judson felt it important to set the record straight. As much as he hated to admit it, he did care what Carrie thought of him.
“It might come as a surprise to you, Carrie, but I don’t sleep around. That’s not the kind of example I want to set as a father. If anyone knows that actions speak louder than words, it’s me.”
Carrie didn’t know that the specifics of that heartfelt statement included a lifetime of pain and disappoint- ment. She only knew that beneath Judson’s clear gaze, her doubts scattered like glittering bits of stardust. Ever since Brandy had informed Carrie that her father was engaged, she had been walking around with a great big rock dead-center in the middle of her chest. Relief shat- tered that rock into a million pieces and sent her heart soaring.
Unlike Scott, this man was neither a user nor a liar. If Judson was engaged to be married, clearly it was news to him. For some reason, Brandy had invented this whole story, and Carrie could see it only as a cry for help. One she desperately wanted to answer.
“Jud, your daughter told me in no uncertain terms that I was to stay away from you—that you were al- ready spoken for.”
“Why would she say such a thing when she knows it isn’t true?” Judson was truly perplexed. Females, whatever their age, were a complete conundrum to him.
Carrie offered the only obvious answer. “Maybe be- cause she hates me.”
Her hurt tone implied that her concern was more than just professional.
Washakie’s steady clip-clopping through the ice on the trail was the only other sound as she relayed the “jackalope marm” incident and ensuing conference she’d had with Brandy.
“Hold on,” Judson directed, maneuvering the stal- lion onto a less-traveled trail.
Instinctively Carrie wrapped her arms more tightly around his waist.
“Didn’t you tell me just the other night that you hated me?” he chided gently.
Embarrassed to have her own words thrown back at her, Carrie buried her face in the fur-lined collar of his coat. His neck smelled clean and kissable.
“That was different,” she protested. “I was scared. And you know that I don’t really hate you.”
“Then you should know that Brandy doesn’t really hate you, either. Has it ever occurred to you that she might simply feel threatened by our relationship?”
Carrie swallowed hard, knowing that this wouldn’t
be easy to admit. “Actually, Brandy’s not the only one who’s scared. To be perfectly honest, my own feelings for you are pretty frightening. You might as well know the reason for my fears is that I once made the mistake of getting involved with my boss. It was disastrous. In fact, it ended up costing me my job.”
Judson had wondered what the impetus had been for a woman like Carrie to suddenly move to such an iso- lated place. No wonder she had been so angry when she had discovered that he was chairman of the school board. No wonder his little practical joke had left such a sour taste in her mouth. He wanted to kick himself a hundred times over for his insensitivity.
At a loss for words, Judson found himself in the unenviable position of being pulled between the two strongest yet most vulnerable women in his life, Carrie and his daughter.
He had noticed that Brandy had been acting peculiar lately. When he’d come home late from the Open House the other day, she had been waiting up for him. The instant he’d opened the front door, she’d pounced on him demanding to know where he’d been. At the time Judson had dismissed her odd behavior as the onslaught of puberty, that perplexing condition that prompted her to lock herself in her bedroom one minute and throw her arms around his neck the very next.
Judson sighed philosophically. “Well, darlin’, it looks like we’re all going to need a little bit of time adjusting to one another and overcoming our personal fears.” He certainly didn’t exclude himself on this count.
Continuing on in a voice both tender and confident, he assured her, “I’ll do my very best to earn your trust, and I don’t doubt that sooner or later Brandy’ll get used
to the idea that she’s going to have to share her daddy with another woman. Once she figures out that you’re not out to steal all my love from her, she’ll be all right.”
Carrie’s breath caught in her throat. Had she heard him correctly? Had he actually used the word
love?
Squinting against a sky too bright to look at with open eyes, Carrie felt her heart soar as high as the red- tailed hawk circling above. She rested her head against Judson’s broad back and considered the future. Not so long ago she had thought herself too damaged by Scott’s deception to ever open herself to another man’s advances. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Deep inside, Carrie knew both she and Judson carried a lot of emotional baggage that precluded either of them plunging headfirst into a relationship. Once she wished to dismiss the physical attraction she felt for Judson as being nothing more than a dream, a snowy, warm, wet dream that threatened to consume her body and soul and dissolve all her inhibitions and fears into a puddle of slush…Now in the dawn of a new day with her heart pumping out a wild, savage beat in time with Judson’s own heart, Carrie no longer wanted to pretend that what she was feeling was anything less than love. True, ach- ing, frightening, wonderful love.
Old fears about becoming involved with the boss dis- solved beneath a sun that glistened on the melting snow like a field of diamonds. Judson was not Scott, she re- minded herself. He wasn’t even technically her boss; it wasn’t as though he was in charge of evaluating her or anything. And hadn’t he just admitted that he wasn’t the kind of man who would use a woman just because she was willing and available?
There was something comfortably moral and upright about Judson. You could see it in the way he was raising
his children. How rare was the man who would accept such responsibility, rising to the daily challenges of being a single father and provider. Carrie suspected that he would be as repulsed by Scott’s underage choice of a sexual partner as she had been. Maybe even more so.
Carrie told herself that it was cowardly to allow past disappointments to keep her heart a prisoner forever. Promising to move forward in this relationship slowly, one step at a time, she knew she owed herself no less.
As they picked their way up the rock-studded hillside, it seemed to her that this land was too vast to be con- tained in the human heart. Somehow this simple life in the outback of Wyoming seemed more real than the one she had left behind. The sun here, unencumbered by smog and skyscrapers, nourished those plants strong enough to withstand its direct rays. Drinking in the warm sunshine, Carrie felt herself putting down deep roots.
Judson coaxed his horse through a narrow crevice in the face of the sheer canyon walls. Nature had cleverly obscured the opening. Reminded of the biblical refer- ence of a camel passing through the eye of a needle, Carrie gasped in surprise as the aperture opened to a piece of heaven on earth.
A natural spring bubbled out of a cleft in the rocks to feed a small, crystalline pool surrounded on all sides by towering sandstone walls. Strange rock paintings of primitive creatures adorned the walls. Instinctively un- derstanding she was on sacred ground, Carrie felt a shiver pass through her.
How many years ago had ancient travelers left their marks unobtrusively upon these walls in shades of char- coal and berry? She couldn’t help but wonder what had
inspired one particular drawing of what looked like a spaceman. The smudge of primitive fires still clung to the sandstone cliffs, and when Carrie closed her eyes she could almost hear the beat of primal drums.
Silently Judson dismounted. As he lifted his hands to her, Carrie abandoned herself to the sensation of falling, falling, falling…into a pair of sure arms. Feeling the impact of his arms crushing her body against his broad chest, she longed to taste his lips upon her own again. A sweet ache spread through her like wildfire, making her tingle all over in anticipation.
Judson noted that the sunlight caught in the wild tum- ble of her silken hair made Carrie look as pretty as a model. Sternly he reminded himself that this picture of youthful innocence was exactly the reason why he should stay far, far away from her. He knew his inten- tions were not the kind one should be entertaining about a respectable schoolteacher.
His troubled past alone would be enough to destroy her reputation, and if some of the community’s more vocal bigots got wind of the fact that Carrie was ro- mantically involved with a half-breed, he suspected they’d do their best to make her life a living hell. The thought drove a skewer right through his heart. He didn’t want to be responsible for running off the best teacher who had ever graced the grounds of Harmony.
That thought, combined with the deep reverence he felt for this particular place, stopped him from taking her as he wished, this very instant, to couple beside these placid waters like animals uninhibited by unnat- ural constraints. But this was not some teenagers’ lov- er’s lane; it was holy ground. No matter how badly his body cried out for release, Judson would not violate honored tradition. Truly there was something mystical
about this secluded hollow. This was the navel of the earth, connecting him to the land, to his ancestors, and ultimately to himself. In the breaching of a humpback whale, in the thunder of a herd of buffalo, in the strength of a cougar’s awesome paw, in the proud toss of a wild horse’s mane was the presence of the Great Spirit. It was a presence that shrouded this place in mys- tery and kept it hidden from sacrilegious interlopers.
“I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone about this place,” he said softly. “It’s not just that it’s on my own private property, it’s also part of my heritage, and I don’t want a bunch of overzealous archaeologists dis- turbing the spirits.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
That Judson had brought her here, an outsider in every sense, touched Carrie more deeply than she cared to admit. There were no words to express the over- whelming sense of serenity the place evoked in her. Clearly Judson remained faithful to his Native Ameri- can heritage in his respect for Mother Earth. She felt truly privileged to share this hallowed ground with a man who managed to keep the very best of both of his cultures without compromising either.
The sincerity glistening in those eyes of satin green quelled any need Judson felt to press her further. The lessons of the past were but ashes in the wind. By in- viting her here, Judson had opened his heart up to in- spection. Like the consecrated waters bubbling forth from the hidden spring that fed this clear font, his life- blood was similarly protected by sheer walls of stone. Etched upon them was an abiding reverence for the land itself, for the time-honored traditions of his ancestors, and for the love of a vanishing way of life.
Delving into eyes as trusting as a fawn’s, Judson recognized
the acceptance for which he had been searching all his life. A husky murmur caught in his throat as he pulled Carrie into the circle of his embrace. For a long time they remained entwined in one another’s arms, paying homage to the past and welcoming the future.
Undisturbed by the outside world, they tasted the im- measurable potential of what could be—if only they could find the courage to overcome the obstacles in their way and learn to trust in one another.
C
arrie and Judson savored the remaining moments that they shared in their enchanted sanctuary. Clearly some- thing wonderful had happened today, something far be- yond the physical attraction that both had fought since that first day when sparks had flown. Something beyond spoken words. Something echoed in the intimate bond of shared glances that excluded the rest of the world. Reveling in precious isolation, they lingered as long as possible before at last conceding that it was time to leave and proceed to Jud’s hunting camp.
Bending and cupping his hands together, Judson in- structed Carrie, “Put your left foot here and I’ll help you mount up.”
Though she would have preferred enjoying at her lei- sure the stimulating view that this pose provided her of the back of Judson’s jeans, Carrie did as she was told.
“I’ll ride behind you on the way back,” he said, swinging up behind her. Doubting whether there was any polite way to explain how his manhood had been
pressed too uncomfortably close to the saddle horn most of the way up here, Judson was glad when Carrie didn’t ask for particulars.
As they took their leave, the sun cast a long shadow through the eyehole of the hidden opening. Awash in bright light, Carrie squinted against the sudden glare. She was completely caught off guard when the horse reared up in fright.
Poised on hind legs and pawing angrily at the air, a black bear was standing just outside the cleft in the mountain wall. A threatening roar echoed off sandstone. It was followed by a single expletive exploding from Judson’s lips. He grabbed for the rifle in the scabbard attached to the saddle, but his hand grasped only empty air as both he and Carrie went flying. They weren’t airborne for long. She landed upon a bed of soft pine needles, and Judson hit the ground with a sickening thud.
Carrie pulled herself into a sitting position to find herself looking over a square, tan nose and into a pair of wary eyes. Time stopped. Fear, dry and metallic, caked the roof of her mouth. Instinctively she under- stood that breaking eye contact would be taken as a sign of fear and would likely serve to provoke the bear. She didn’t so much as blink, and an uneasy draw ensued.
The bear shook its head and growled low and deep. In response, a plaintive bawl arose nearby. Halfway up a scrub pine, a cub had its claws buried in soft bark and, in the confusion, appeared to have forgotten how to get down.
Lumbering over to her fractious toddler, Mamma Bear used the tree branches like a ladder to pull herself erect. Leaning her weight against the tree made it almost bend over double. Growing tired with all this unnecessary
fuss, she nudged junior in the bottom to hasten him on his way. With a startled yelp, the cub hit the ground running.
Surprisingly agile for her four hundred plus pounds, Mamma herded her fugitive little fur ball toward one of the many caves pocketing the mountainside. The wide yawn that displayed a set of powerful jaws and large, gleaming teeth indicated it was time to get a start on the long winter’s nap that would spare them the coldest months of the year. Tossing a final warning glance over her shoulder, Mamma Bear waggled off into the pine trees.
Eaten up with curiosity from its nose to its toes, the cub stopped momentarily to sniff at Judson’s still form until an impatient, motherly bellow sent him scurrying into the timber with an obedient yip.
Had Judson not been lying motionless on the ground, the whole thing might have been comical. But Carrie wasn’t laughing as she scrambled over to where he lay upon the cold, hard ground. His head was cradled be- tween a jagged rock and a late-blooming patch of Indian Paint Brush. As bright as the flower’s crimson petals, the melting snow was stained with his blood.
The world spun around Judson in slow motion. He wondered vaguely if this was the way it felt to be wel- comed into heaven, wrapped in the arms of an angel. Feeling hot tears splash upon his face, he opened his eyes and squinted into a beautiful countenance haloed by the sun.
“It’ll be all right,” he assured Carrie with a half- cocked grin.
Like a flower opening itself to the sun, Judson felt the impact of this creature’s beautiful smile spread
throughout his body. He reached out for her, and finding her real indeed, pulled this healing angel into his arms, vowing to keep her there forever.
Reasoning that it couldn’t be too bad if he was able to speak, Carrie sobbed in relief. She brushed away her tears with the back of her hand and asked, “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three.”
Panic resurfaced in every pore of her body as she looked at the single finger she held in front of his eyes.
“Do you know where you are?” she asked.
“Heaven?”
Clearly Judson had a concussion. Carrie could only guess at its severity. Cussing the entire damned state of Wyoming for its snakes and bears and bitter cold and stubborn cowboys, Carrie railed against the hysteria that threatened to consume her. Remembering how Judson had been strong for her when she’d wrecked the snow- mobile, she forced herself to remain calm.
How ironic it was that the only thing standing be- tween Judson Horn and death was the same woman he’d once deemed too fragile to withstand the rigors of this rugged country. Unmindful of the cold, Carrie shed her coat, sweater and undershirt. Ripping the shirt into long strips, she wound them around Judson’s head. Once sat- isfied that the bleeding had stopped, she redressed and attempted to get him to his feet.
It was like lifting a mountain.
“Come on,” she urged, wrapping both arms around Judson’s waist and trying to hoist him to his feet.
As if aware of the severity of the situation, Washakie cantered to his master’s side and waited patiently. Judson grabbed for the saddle horn and missed. Shoving a shoulder beneath his buttocks, Carrie strained for all she
was worth and somehow succeeded in draping him over the stallion like a sack of flour. Judson’s eyes rolled back in his head. With an agonizing groan, he passed blissfully from consciousness.
It was a long way back, having to hold on to Judson and guide Washakie down the narrow trail, but there was no other way of transporting him safely down the mountainside. It took the better part of two hours to make it back to Harmony and another forty-five minutes for Carrie to careen down the switchbacks in her rickety pickup. At the speed with which she took those hairpin turns, she was surprised that she didn’t kill them both before screeching to a halt outside the Lander Valley Medical Center.
Impatiently waiting in the lobby, Carrie marked time by monitoring the arthritic hands of the big clock on the wall. After what seemed like eternity, the doctor entered the room.
“I suppose you know that you’re both damned lucky that you didn’t end up spending the winter hibernating inside the belly of an old sow bear,” Dr. Keats informed her with a glance over the rim of a pair of old-fashioned spectacles.
Carrie brushed off the comment as inconsequential. Worried that Judson may have suffered serious brain damage, she was in no mood for his Western bedside manner.
“How is he?” she demanded.
“Jud’s as tough as an old piece of leather and as grizzly as a grizzly himself.”
Chuckling at his play on words, he wiped his glasses on his hospital smock and donned a more serious bear- ing. “It took a dozen stitches to close up that gash in
the back of his head. He’s had his bell rung pretty hard, but in a week or so, I expect he’ll be back to his old, ornery self. Till then he’ll be sore, perhaps a little disoriented, and more’n likely mad as hell at being laid up.”
Carrie’s body went limp with relief. She reached for the arm of a chair for support. “He’s going to be all right then? There’s no brain damage?”
“Oh, he’ll have one humdinger of a headache that’ll plague him for a day or two, but if you can assure me that you’ll wake him up every hour tonight to check on him just to make sure that he doesn’t slip into uncon- sciousness, I’ll release him into your care immedi- ately.”
Carrie squirmed uncomfortably in the silence that fol- lowed his prognosis. Didn’t the good doctor realize in what a difficult position he was placing her? Granted, Judson needed someone to look after him and the chil- dren while he was incapacitated, but tongues were cer- tain to wag if she were to temporarily move in with the chairman of school board, a man who just so happened to be the father of two of her pupils! Though the rest of the country might be progressively liberal, Carrie was well aware how decidedly conservative her little corner of it was. It didn’t take a genius to realize that such action could well constitute grounds for dismissal.
As if reading her thoughts, Dr. Keats remarked, “It’s not exactly like he’s up for any hanky-panky.”
Frantically Carrie searched her mind for someone— anyone—to step in and help. A lusty image of Estelle Hanway popped into her head. Despite her fury at the Harvest Ball, Carrie felt certain the beautiful woman would jump at the chance to play Judson’s nursemaid.
The thought caused her heart to flip-flop wildly inside her chest.
“I suppose I didn’t just spend the longest day of my life hauling the man off the mountain just to abandon him now,” she muttered into the doctor’s bemused eyes.
If Carrie thought Judson was going to be happy at the prospect of having her at his beck and call, she was sorely disappointed. When she explained to him that she planned to be around to help out until he was back on his feet again, he bellowed in rage.
“I can take care of myself for God’s sake! Been do- ing it since was I a kid.”
Remembering the references to his alcoholic mother, Carrie assumed that his self-sufficiency stemmed from shouldering an adult’s responsibility far too early in life. Though she longed to reach out and touch him with gentle compassion, she didn’t dare. Such a proud man might easily mistake the gesture as a sign that she found him weak.
“I’m just relaying the doctor’s orders,” she re- sponded with a smile that felt tight over her teeth. “With you out of commission for a while, somebody’s going to have to take care of the twins anyway. I doubt if it’ll be much more work looking after you, too, but if you insist, you’re welcome to stay in the hospital for just as long as you’d like.”
Recognizing that same stubborn set to her jaw as when Carrie had told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t about to turn tail and go back to Chicago without putting up a fight, Judson knew arguing was useless— despite the fact that the whole situation was a powder keg just waiting to be lit.
Considering Brandy’s disturbing behavior in the classroom lately, there was bound to be hell to pay when he brought Carrie home for a “sleep over.” Judson could only imagine how Cowboy would to react when he discovered that his father was as smitten with his pretty teacher as he, not to mention the fact that Judson himself was certain to be in a state of permanent arousal with this confounding, lovely creature catering to his every need. He could think of no better prescrip- tion for utter pandemonium.
Unfortunately, Judson had little choice in the matter. For the first time in over two decades, he needed to rely on another human being for help. Considering that he had always thought she was the one who needed looking after, it galled him to think that Carrie Raben, of all people, would have to take care of him. This sudden role reversal hurt his pride something awful. Up until now he had seen himself as the strong one, whose job was to show this fresh greenhorn the fundamentals of surviving in the woolly West. How quickly enigmatic Ms. Raben had turned the tables on him. The fact that a big man like himself was suddenly reduced to help- lessness was humiliating, to say the least.
Along with the pill the nurse handed him, Judson Horn swallowed his pride.
Before leaving the hospital, Carrie placed a call to the children, who had been spending the day at the neighbors’. After explaining the situation to Mrs. Mil- ford, she asked if the family would mind feeding Cowboy and Brandy supper. That would give her time enough to get Judson to bed before the twins got home.
A hot blush swept over her at the thought of tucking Judson in. For the millionth time she wondered how in
the world she was ever going to manage this. Just being in this man’s presence was enough to set her on fire.
Judson slept most of the way home, leaving Carrie to her own thoughts. Having passed by but never under the huge log archway that marked the entrance to the Blue Sky Lodge, she was unprepared for the size and grandeur of Judson’s ranch. Highlighted against a spec- tacular Wyoming sunset, his home was nestled in a grove of pine trees. As impressive as the land from which it was carved, the spacious stone building was an integral part of the surrounding countryside. The scene emoted an aura of peaceful tranquility that contrasted dramatically with the turmoil Carrie was feeling inside.
Awakening her patient from his medicated sleep, she announced brightly, “Wake up! We’re here!”
Carrie helped him from the vehicle, insisting that he lean on her for support. “Easy does it,” she murmured as they tottered up the flagstone walk.
Easy does it… Easy does it…
she repeated to her racing heart.
Finding the front door locked, she looked at Judson askance.
“Key’s in my pants’ pocket,” was his terse reply.
Was she merely imagining the hoarse, gritty tone of his voice? Feeling the now-familiar heat radiating from the center of her body, she pushed aside any prim-and- proper ideas about how ladies were supposed to behave. After all, hadn’t the doctor assured her that his patient wasn’t up for any hanky-panky? Carrie plunged her hands into his two front pockets and fished out a ring laden with keys—but not before feeling the arousal of his manhood, large and obvious against her fingertips. Injured or not, this man wasn’t about to let her forget about his overt sexual appeal. Nervously she fumbled
with several keys before finally coming up with the right one.
Flipping on the porch light illuminated Judson’s weakened condition. His eyes were glazed over, his face was a ghastly hue, and a grimace curled his lips.
Pain pierced Carrie’s heart with the accuracy of an arrow. Her concern for Judson’s well-being outweighed everything else. Community mores, her job, Brandy’s disapproval, her reputation—all meant nothing in light of the fact that Judson needed her.