Cassie's Hope (Riders Up) (9 page)

“Yeah, if you look
to the northwest horizon,” Clint said, gesturing with a finger, “you can see
the Salt Lake. It’s that ribbon of blue.” The Salt Lake Valley stretched out as
far as they could see to the west, the south and the north. They’d just passed
through the craggy canyon on I-80 that hid the panoramic view until the very
last instant.

“Incredible. I’ve
never seen anything like this.”

Clint smiled at his
passenger’s awe-struck features. “If you think this is different, wait until we’re
a couple hours further west of here,” he said. “I’m going to show you something
you won’t find in Lake Michigan.”

- o -

“Amazing.” Cassie
said, shading her eyes from the blazing sun-scorched surface. “It’s as flat as
a parking lot and as white as a clown’s face. I can’t believe I actually eat
this stuff.”

“I believe they refine
it some,” Clint quipped, “before it gets to your salt shaker.”

They had walked a
good half mile out from I-80 across the Salt Flats. The sun baked everything in
sight, even in the late afternoon. Foothills loomed miles away; in between was
acre after acre of salt, overlaid with countless mirages.

“If we didn’t have
these shades and caps on, the glare could do damage to our retinas,” Clint
said. “That’s how strong this sun is out here. It is a desert. As the Salt Lake
rises from rainfall, it spills over into these outlying areas. Then as the lake
recedes during the summer months, these flats dry up and the salt crystalizes and
is harvested.”

“Wow. This is one
huge farm. As far as the eye can see.”

“Actually, there
are several, worked by different corporations. Over closer to those foothills,”
Clint said, pointing to the dark shadows on the northern horizon, “is where
many of the ground speed records have been made. Bonneville Salt Flats attracts
cars and dragsters from all over the world. You want to go look?”

“No thanks.” She
smiled at Clint, who was clearly checking her out. Her nipples hardened under his
stare. She shrugged, shielding her sunglasses with the palm of her hand, not unaware
of how such a simple gesture pressed her breasts tightly against her halter
top. “Cars are simply a means of getting me from place to place. I do want to
take a sample of this salt home, though. I doubt that any of my friends have
seen raw salt.”

“Okay. Let’s take a
handful each. I have a container in the truck we can use. But first things
first.”

Clint bent down and
placed his lips on hers. It was a tender kiss. She felt the heat of his lips. She
opened her mouth and deepened the embrace. Her tongue sought his. His hands
cupped her bottom and she stood on the tip of her toes; her fingers dug into
his firm shoulder muscles.

Lost in the kiss,
she was struck by the image they must be making for the passing observer—two
dark intertwined shapes, like a renaissance sculpture. Life, however, coursed
strongly through their bodies. Although the heat was blistering, it could not
compete in intensity with the fire generated by that simple kiss.

Breaking their
embrace, Clint rubbed his face in her wind blown hair. “We better get out of
here,” he groaned. “Wouldn’t want to do anything rash. Our skin would be fried
under this sun—and  salt would be much worse for the body than straw.”

She shuddered. “No
way. Not here.”

Dazed by a
cacophony of sounds including bells, whistles, and falling coins, Cassie
welcomed the air conditioning of the bustling glitter-laden casino. They’d
driven only a few miles from the Salt Flats to the border town of Wendover,
where on the Nevada side several casinos stood tall, beckoning any and all who
were willing to risk a dollar in the slot machines or at the gaming tables.

Being a penny-pincher
herself, she’d never stepped into a casino before. The place lured and
saddened. The shrill yells of victory spoke clearly of those who were having a
good day, some a very good day. Many more individuals sat glumly before the
machines as though they could not move even if they thought about it. Their
willpower appeared totally sapped. Cassie shuddered.

At least at a race
track, people were able to disconnect and move around. And there were always
the horses. Gambling had never been the primary draw to the horses for her or
for her dad. They’d both lost and made some money at the betting windows, but
raising competitive horses was the dream.

Cheers at the craps
table brought her attention back to Clint and a game she expected she’d never
understand. Craps moved too quickly. Chips were placed every which way on the
lines and boxes on the table. Dice rolled. “Coming out,” cried the casino man
in a crisp white shirt and bolo tie. “Come seven, come eleven.”

Many of the players’
faces showed brilliant expectation while the dice were suspended in the air,
only to droop in agony when the cubes stopped rolling.

“Snake eyes and
out,” the casino man declared. He used a long curved stick to remove the chips
from in front of the players. Some placed chips down immediately, preparing to
take on once again the odds of the game. Others grumbled and left.

Cassie watched
Clint put his winnings in his pocket. He turned to her, placed a hand on her
elbow and guided her away from the table.

“It’s time to move
on,” he said. “The table was hot for a while; now it’s turning cold. With
craps, you got to know when to walk away.”

“Expect that’s true
with any game of chance.”

He gave her a
puzzled look and then said, “It’s getting late. How about grabbing something to
eat and staying here for the night? We can spend the next day or two in Salt
Lake and then head out to the ranch the morning after that, if you want.”

“Sounds inviting to
me,” Cassie responded with a broad smile. “We might yet find a game I can play.”

- o -

“So how come there’s
no serious man in your life?”

Clint appreciated
the view of Cassie pulling at her unruly hair that showed the effects of a
splendid, uncomplicated night of lovemaking. She sat in the middle of the large
bed, her legs tucked under. No clothing marred his view. He hadn’t met a woman
more comfortable with her own natural nudity.

Sitting in a large
winged chair across from her, Clint waited patiently for her response to his
question. He thanked the universe or whom or whatever for the opportunity to
wake up just one morning with this beautiful creature.

She blinked. “Did I
say there wasn’t?”

“You wouldn’t be
here if there was.”

She gave a coy
smile and shrugged. “You’re probably right about that. I enjoy playing, but I
don’t play around if I’m in a serious relationship.”

She crossed her
arms under her breasts, which only served to frame them even better for him. She
appear to ponder how much she wanted to share. He waited for her to make up her
mind.

“There’s no one now,”
she finally said. “The last serious relationship burned out and left a bad
taste in my mouth for anything long term. I’ve been keeping an apparent dishrag
of a guy at bay for the past six months or so. That’s done. He thought I
betrayed him by leaving the city to take on Cassie’s Hope. He doesn’t believe
there is life beyond the Chicago city limits. He was someone to be seen with,
but he never really fit. Dirk was safe. As long as he was around, I didn’t have
to deal with other men.”

“Right.” Clint
sighed. He doubted he should ask, but he couldn’t stop himself. “And where do I
fit into this web of romance?”

Cassie responded
quickly, perhaps too quickly. “In the short-run, you fit incredibly well.” Her
blush let him know that she was remembering just how well he did fit. “In the
long-run,” she said looking away, “you don’t fit at all.”

Clint felt a flash
of anger and spoke before he could think. “My role in one week’s time is to
fill you up sexually for who knows how many years, but I’m not good enough for
the sophisticated big city girl?”

“Whoa! Where did
that sarcasm come from?” Cassie glared at him. “You’ve no right to be hurt. We’re
adults having a good time. That doesn’t mean forever. I never suggested
anything else.”

Overstepped that
one, cowboy.
“Yeah, I know.” Clint paused to regain his balance. “Doesn’t mean my ego doesn’t
get in the way, though. I’m not looking for a wife anymore than you’re
apparently looking for a husband.”

“Well, a husband
would be okay,” Cassie demurred. “But he’d have to be just right. And while you
are a fantastic lover and I’m sure you’re a great person, I’ve sworn to God and
any who will listen that I will never ever marry a horse trainer.”

“What?” She’d done
it again, and he couldn’t stop his words. “You mean you would throw me out of
long term consideration just because I train horses?”

“Absolutely,” she
said, pulling her knees to her chest and covering herself with the sheet.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Before he could
continue, Cassie broke in, “I’ve bounced from track to track. I know the life
of the backside. I don’t want to raise a family that way. I know about broken
promises and broken dreams.”

“Then why the hell
did you come back to the Downs? And why are you in my bed?”

Cassie smiled
ruefully. “You fail to remember that my first order of business is making Hope
a stakes contender for my father. Cassie’s Hope is probably his last dream of a
big horse. After his stroke, I doubt he’ll ever work again. It’ll be a small
miracle to get him to the track to watch Hope race.”

“I’m sorry,” Clint
said frowning. “I forgot. Guess I’ve never been bitten by that big horse bug. Running
around the bush tracks is good enough for me.” He winced—he wasn’t telling the
entire truth, but then he doubted the redheaded minx had been entirely honest
with him, either.

“Well, it shouldn’t
be!” Cassie said. She clamped her mouth shut, but then went on. “You have some
good horses, but you’re not giving them a chance. If you’re going to be in this
game, you should be playing to win. Why don’t you take them to California to
race? I’ve watched you, and don’t understand why you’re satisfied playing
around at tracks that can’t pay horse owners and trainers enough to meet
expenses.”

“Well, well. You’ve
been bottling a lot up, haven’t you? For someone who can hardly wait to get out
of the horse business, you sure are long on advice. Maybe I like to just play
at horse racing.” Becoming somber, Clint added, “Maybe I got other
responsibilities that keep me close to home.”

Cassie shook her
head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that. Christ, I’m in no position to
judge how you or anyone else chooses to run a life.”

Her eyes smoldered
caressing his body. “As to your second question awhile back—why am I in your
bed—that answer is easy. Because you are a terrific lover who dragged me off in
his pickup to see his world.”

Clint’s cell phone
rang.

“Yeah…Wendover. Right…Don’t
worry, I’ll be there day after tomorrow…Don’t nag me about it—I said I’d be
there, and I will. Yeah, me too.”

He put the phone
back in its holder and scowled. “Let’s get dressed and go down and have
breakfast.”

Cassie climbed off
the bed and started getting dressed. With bra and panties on she turned and
confronted him. “Hey, if you don’t have time to show me around, I’ll
understand. You can take me back to Evanston and I’ll be fine. Really.”

“Don’t even think
about it. I cleared my calendar to spend time with you, and that’s what I’m
going to do.” He laced his fingers in her hair and pulled her close. Her scent
was intoxicating. “You got away from me once. Not this time.”

Now what kind of
questioning look was she giving him? He wasn’t going to go after that and
apparently, for once, she was prepared to let things drop. He’d forgotten how
much of challenge it was spending twenty-fours with a woman.

Should he really
take her to the ranch? That was his safe house, his private life. He couldn’t
explain to himself why it was important to show her who he really was. Cassie O’Hanlon
was a joy to be around, but she was a high strung, complex woman—a woman who
still had
danger
written all over her. He’d better keep his heart
protected.

After two days
poking around Salt Lake City, Cassie was pleased to be heading toward eastern Utah
and Clint’s ranch. She was more than a little curious about how he lived.

She was still high
on adrenaline. How could life get any better? From the winner’s circle to the
last few days being with Clint—it just couldn’t be topped.

They’d been
traveling over a well maintained dirt road for the last twenty minutes. He’d
announced when they’d entered his land. It didn’t look any different than the
landscape they’d been driving through for quite some time: reddish soil, dry
and windblown. Mountains graced the horizon.

“There’s the
buildings,” he said with pride, pointing ahead and to her right.