“I think the bottle said strawberry.”
“I don’t see strawberries. I don’t see a bottle. But I have seen this color somewhere.” He abandoned her hair and took her hand, drawing her out of the booth. “It’ll come to me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To find some slow and easy holding-you-in-my-arms music. I just danced out of my twenties and I wanna dance into my thirties.” He squeezed her hand. “You with me?”
“Yes, I am.” She squeezed back. She was getting that giddy feeling again, and she was beginning to like it. “I like your style, cowboy.”
“Skill takes you to the whistle, but it’s style that wins the buckle.”
Trace turned off the highway and followed a familiar dirt road to a spot overlooking the Powder River with a long view to the east. He’d found it back in his rookie days, and it was still a favorite place to pull off the highway and catch a little sleep knowing the sun would roust him in plenty of time to get to Casper to make the afternoon show and then head for Denver or Boise. He slept just fine in the cab of his pickup as long as there were no headlights coming at him, no 18-wheelers whooshing past him in the night.
Skyler was asleep. At his suggestion, she’d cranked her seat back and drifted off in the middle of her own sentence. Something about not being able to sleep on the road. He wasn’t going to let her sleep much longer. He’d flipped the center console upright and made way for a close encounter. With the moon on the run, it was the darkest part of a night that would soon be cracked by daylight. If he’d picked the right spot, they were in for a spectacular moment. But in the dark he couldn’t be sure the landscape hadn’t been sullied since his last visit. Miners and drillers were tearing into the Powder River country like some Biblical plague. He wanted this sunrise—his sunrise—to reveal nothing but pristine Wyoming.
But watching the woman sleep was nice, too. He was trying to decide how to wake her—whether to say her name or touch her bare shoulder, maybe her cheek—when she stirred, edging closer, giving faint voice to her soft sigh. He touched his lips briefly to hers and felt the sweet beginnings of a smile. He lifted his head and watched her lashes unveil her eyes, a gradual dawning. The smile vanished momentarily, but then it returned. It was too dark to see it in her eyes, but he knew it was there. He could feel the connection when she recognized him.
“Are we there yet?” she asked sleepily.
“No, but we’re here. I promised you sunrise.”
Her smile broadened as she closed her eyes. “I’ve seen it before.”
“Not this one.” The horizon was beginning to lighten. He released her seat belt and patted the empty leather space between them. “Come on over,” he whispered, and he drew her under his arm as soon as she gave him the chance. She snuggled against him as though he were her favorite pillow. “Tell me about your mustang,” he said. “How long have you had him?”
“Three weeks. I’ve managed to halter him, but that’s about all.”
“What do you want him to do for you?”
“Take me places.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I haven’t decided. Maybe just down the road.” She tipped her head back without lifting it from his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her smile, and he felt favored and strangely honored by her ease with him. “Isn’t that what you’re doing, cowboy? Goin’ down the road?”
He nodded. He wasn’t feeling the hell, yeah he would have given with gusto back … when? A few months ago? A year? The rush that came with the ride was still good, but the road between rushes was getting longer. And something else, something that was beginning to wear on him more than sore muscles and aching joints. He wasn’t ready to name it. Naming it would give it power, and he didn’t feel like putting up a fight, not while this woman’s head was resting on his shoulder. Which felt dangerously sweet.
“Here it comes.” He laid his free hand on the top of the steering wheel and pointed a finger toward a burst of gold spearing through the pinks and purples washing over the jagged horizon. It was a common sight of incomparable beauty. “There it is, Skyler. On the edge of that cloud. I knew I’d seen that color before.” He lifted a curl from her shoulder. “You have the morning sky in your hair.”
“And you …” She sat up and looked him in the eye, laughing. “No, I won’t say you have a silver tongue.”
“I won’t say don’t knock it.” He drew her close and she met his kiss fully, paying him back with interest, forcing him to be the reluctant quitter. “Mmm. That was a knockout.”
“It surely was,” she said dreamily. He liked the sound.
“And it’s only day one.”
“Between us we could cause a lot of damage in three days.”
“Damage,” he said as he touched her hair, “is not my style.”
She gave him a quick good boy kiss and then turned her attention to the buoyant sun. “It’s beautiful here,” she said. But what he heard was moving right along … “This is the kind of place I want that mustang to take me.”
“You picked the right trainer, then.” He drew his arm over her head, effectively taking his pillow back. He was still thinking about those kisses. The first one was great. The second one rubbed him the wrong way. He knew what she was thinking.
Hell, he knew about a lot of things.
“Are you signed up with the Double D Wild Horse Sanctuary competition?”
“Mustang Sally’s Makeover Challenge,” she recited. He nodded, giving her pause. “You’re not already in it, are you?”
“No, but my father is, and my brother was trying to get into it, too.” He shrugged. I’m way ahead of you, lady. “I hear there’s a big prize at stake.”
A moment passed before she spoke again. “We have a deal, don’t we?” From her tone, the shoe that had changed feet was a little tight. “The clock’s already ticking on it.”
He was a little surprised. He’d wanted her company, pure and simple, but he could have sworn her side of the deal was born of a whim. He didn’t mind that her whim affected her need for his skill. She had already seen him make a difference with a horse and she’d soon realize there was more where that came from. Maybe there was more to this arrangement than he’d thought. Maybe there was more to this little dance of theirs, and maybe what had felt like a kiss-off was just a sweet little kiss.
And maybe she was a little more high maintenance than he was used to, but, damn, he wasn’t about to quit now.
He offered a smile. “Trust me, Skyler, I’m a man of my word.”
“Trust me, cowboy, trust me is a line with a definite sell-by date.” She raked her fingers through the hair he’d touched tenderly. “It expired for me a long time ago.”
Don’t ask, Wolf Track.
“Mike gave me the impression your husband was a good man.”
That’s asking, you idiot.
“He was.” She sighed. “He was.”
“If you don’t wanna go back there, I sure don’t mind moving ahead. It’s a new day.” Right. Good luck with that.
“The perfect beginning for a three-day event,” she quipped. “You won’t be competing against your family. I just need a little help getting over the first hump.”
He made the catch, grinning and grateful. “Like I said, I’m your man.”