Saddle Up (18 page)

He suddenly thought of his cousin's words.
You don't even know who you are anymore, and you won't belong anywhere until you do.
Maybe he had lost his way for a while, but he was trying real hard to find his way back, and Miranda suddenly seemed like a homing beacon.

Let me touch you. Let me feed your soul.
How could he tell her she already had?

Miranda sensed there was something special growing between them, but how much more of himself was Keith willing to share beyond sex? He'd succeeded in turning her desire against her to stem the flow of questions. Was he already looking for an escape from any emotional entanglements? Would he try to find an excuse to break it off because she was getting too close? Her head roiled with unanswered questions, but the moment their mouths met, her mind blurred to all but the need to feel him inside her again.

Breaking away from her mouth, Keith worked his way down her body. Miranda shut her eyes to scorching sensation lapping at the place between her thighs. Hot. Wet. Slick. His tongue sliding and swirling, every flick and dart eliciting an answering flutter deep inside her. Her arousal shortened her breath, hardened her nipples. Her lungs burned for air. She ached to be filled, the emptiness like a piercing pain. She reached out for him with a needy sound.

Pressure, sweet and steady, answered her prayer.

Probing fingers teased and tormented, wreaking havoc on her senses. Long, lush lashes of his tongue. His lips pressing against her clit, gently squeezing, insistently sucking. Alternating anguish with bliss. Her pulse thudded a pounding drumbeat in her ears as he coaxed her to climax. Her orgasm came slowly, swelling and spreading in low ripples of sensation that left her panting.

He came over her, eyes dilated with desire. She parted her lips in expectation of his kiss and got his fingers instead. Wet. Slick. Scented, like his breath, with the remnants of her climax. He stroked them over her mouth and then reclaimed what he'd given her with lush licks of his hot tongue. Adding tiny flicks and teasing nips, he sucked her lower lip into his mouth and then breached her in a long, slow penetration, stretching, joining her body with his. Eyes locked on hers, he moved inside her, slow and deliberate, every thrust claiming another little piece of her soul. Whether he knew it or not, wanted her or not, she was his. It could never be like this with anyone else.

* * *

With almost four hours of driving ahead of them, they had to rise well before the sun to make up for the hours they'd spent making love. Although bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived, Miranda didn't regret a minute they'd passed exploring each other, but this morning she once again sensed Keith's withdrawal, could almost see him recoiling into himself.

The silence as they drove was now charged with another kind of tension—uncertainty and unease. It had all happened so fast. They both needed time and space to figure it out. So she gave him space—or as much as the truck cab would allow.

She was glad she'd brought her iPad. At least she could pretend to read. She kept her eyes glued to the screen even as she felt his gaze seeking hers. She wondered what he was thinking but didn't dare ask, knowing any perceived pressure on her part would lead only to further retreat on his.

She wondered why Keith had chosen such a solitary path. Did he keep himself apart purely out of fear of rejection? Freedom and independence were long cowboy traditions. But with freedom and independence often came isolation and loneliness.

She stole another glance at him. Tension sharpened his features, and his hands were tight on the wheel. She was suddenly reminded of the mustang stallion that had leapt out of the holding pen, leaving the others behind, because his freedom was more important than even the familial bonds with his herd mates.

Although he'd tried not to show it, she'd felt his pain when he'd spoken of his family, and partially understood his wariness after the hurt and rejection he'd suffered. There were only three people she'd ever trusted implicitly, and two of them, her father and her grandfather, were both gone. Only Jo-Jo remained.

After a time, the quiet became stifling. “Do you mind if I play some music?” she asked.

“Go ahead,” he replied. “The truck doesn't have an MP3 jack, and the radio reception out here is piss poor, so I always carry CDs in the glove box.”

Curious to know what kind of music he listened to, she opened it to take a look. She found Iron Maiden, Manowar, and Anthrax on top of the stack. “Wow. I never would have figured you for a metalhead.” There was so much she still didn't know about him. They'd jumped into bed so quickly that they hadn't had a chance to truly get to know each other.

He shrugged. “A lot of the metal bands honor Indian culture. Just listen to ‘Run to the Hills,' ‘Spirit Horse of the Cherokee,' or ‘Indians.' Or if you want to hear some hardcore NA death metal, listen to ‘Warpath' by Dark Kloud.”

“No thanks,” she replied. “I prefer to keep my rage bottled. Do you have any music that isn't dark or depressing?” She flipped through a few others in the stack. Staind. Breaking Benjamin, Linkin Park, Seether. “Ah, here's one.” She popped Nickelback into the player, skipping to her favorite power ballad. Shutting her eyes, she immersed herself in the music. They arrived in Gunnison without speaking another word.

Although Keith was able to get clearance for her to go inside, the invasive and humiliating body search was unavoidable. Miranda endured it with stoicism. For the next hour she remained inside the truck, while Keith oversaw the loading of twenty-some horses onto the trailer, a process that moved quickly and without incident.

“I'm sorry,
Aiwattsi
,” Keith apologized when he climbed back into the cab.

“It's all right. You warned me how it would be.”

“Do you regret that you came?” he asked, glancing her way. He posed the question casually, but his shoulders were square and rigid.

“No,” she replied. She knew he referred to more than the prison experience. “I don't. Are you sorry you brought me?”

“No, I'm not.” His shoulders eased, and his lips curved slightly at the corners, the first hint of a smile she'd seen all day. It was enough to break the remaining tension. “But I am sorry I've been bad company. I've got a lot on my mind.”

“It's okay. I understand. Don't feel you have to entertain me. How far is it to Rock Springs?” she asked.

“Less than five hours,” he replied, dropping his hat behind the seat.

“What happens after we drop them off?” Keith had told her the horses that had been handled by the inmates had already been shipped to adoption centers. She wondered about the fate of the mares they now transported.

“I'll drive you back to Montana and then return here for another load.”

“
Another
one?”

He shook his head with a sigh. “I wish it was only one more.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mitch texted me early this morning, asking if I can trailer a load to Colorado and then another one to Arizona. I expected as much when I heard about this situation, but it's still put me in a pissy mood.”

“Is
that
why you've been so aloof?”

“Yes. I really don't like this situation.”

“Are you going to do it?” she asked.

“I have to,” he replied. “It sucks, but it's my job.”

“How long do you think it will take to find places to put them all?”

“Weeks? Months?” He shrugged. “Who knows?”

“What about your horse?” she asked. “You never said what you're going to do with the one you adopted. Where is he?”

“My cousin Tonya is looking after him, but it's only temporary. As soon as we've settled the Gunnison horses, I'll probably take him back to the BLM. He'll never be adoptable, so I'm hoping he'll find a permanent home on one of the long-term pastures.”

“And then what?” she asked.

“And then nothing. He'll live out his life.”

“That sounds so…empty. Aren't you even going to
try
to gentle him?”

“No. His needs will be met.”

“His
physical
needs,” she stated, once more vividly reminded of Keith.

“What else is there? He's only a horse.”

“You don't believe that any more than I do. Wasn't it you who told me they have emotions? Doesn't he deserve more from life?” She couldn't believe he'd just give up on the creature like that. Once more his negative outlook had let her down.

“Maybe we all do, but that doesn't mean we'll get it.”

“Why are you so cynical?” she asked.

“I have good reason to be. Why does that horse matter so much to you?” he snapped.

“I don't know. He just does. Why do
I
need a reason?”

He didn't answer. Just stared at the road. She knew he was growing annoyed, but she pressed on. “What are your plans after all this?”

“I know nothing more about my future today than I did yesterday, Miranda. Nothing has changed.”

“But it doesn't have to be that way,” she insisted. “You
could
change things if you really wanted to.”

“How?” he demanded. “I see no path forward, and I can't go back. I'm stuck in this situation whether I like it or not.”

“No you aren't. You just refuse to open your mind to new opportunities.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She'd been chewing on the idea for hours and now saw her chance. “I've been talking to my grandmother about turning the ranch into a mustang sanctuary. She's giving it serious thought and has already made inquiries with the BLM.”

“She told me. It's a crazy notion, Miranda.”

“Why?”

“Because you know next to nothing about handling those horses.”

“Then we'll have to hire someone who does. You said you were interested in ranch work—”

“I'm
not
going to work for you, Miranda.”

“Why not? It would be full time, and you wouldn't have to travel anymore.”

“Because we're lovers, that's why not. Business and pleasure mix about as well as oil and water. It could only lead to trouble.”

“You're being completely unreasonable,” she said. “The horses need a home, and Jo-Jo has twenty-six hundred acres of pasture that's going to waste. She'd like to keep the ranch, and I'm willing to do whatever I can to make that happen, but I need help. You know these horses better than anyone except maybe the West family. Please tell me what I'm missing here.”

“I already did. I can't work for someone I'm involved with.”

“Technically speaking, you'd be working for Jo-Jo, not me,” she argued.

“Doesn't matter. Our relationship still makes this whole proposition impossible.”

“But you're wrong,” Miranda insisted. “This could be the ideal solution for all of us.” The more she considered it, the more convinced she was. “Is our personal relationship your only objection?”

His brows contracted into a deep frown. “I don't need any other reasons. I could probably come up with plenty more if I thought about it long enough, but I'm not about to waste brain cells on the activity.”

His body language said it was time to back off, but she'd already committed herself. “Would you consider taking the job if we weren't intimate?”

“This entire discussion is pointless, Miranda. I don't do hypotheticals.”

“It's not strictly hypothetical,” she said.

His gaze snagged hers. “What are you saying?”

Miranda knew what she was risking. She wondered if taking a step backward was the right answer. Maybe that's what they really needed in order to move forward. Although her body still hungered for Keith, her heart hung in the balance. Until he found what he needed, he'd always hold back. She fingered the bear tooth around her neck and then took a deep breath. “I'm saying that if we didn't sleep together anymore, your entire argument would be moot.”

He pulled off the road, put the truck in park, and faced her with gaze narrowed. “Do I understand you right? Are you breaking it off with me?”

“It's not what I want, but maybe it's for the best. You've made it clear you aren't looking for a relationship.”

“That doesn't mean I want to end this,” he said.

“You can't always have it both ways, Keith. I'm trying to get my life back on track too. I think the mustang sanctuary is the answer for all of us. I'm willing to make a personal sacrifice for the greater good if you won't consider it any other way.”

* * *

Keith cursed under his breath. “I can't fucking believe this.” She was mistaken to think he'd take the job if they ended their involvement. Sure it was a valid reason for his refusal, but it wasn't the only one. He resented her attempt to manipulate him into accepting her offer. Rather than persuading him, it only made him balk harder. “I've already told you what I think of all that greater good bullshit.”

She stared back at him, looking almost incredulous that he'd refused. “Why? I don't understand why you're so set against the idea. It makes no sense to me.”

“I can't be part of this, Miranda. If you're determined to go ahead with this, you'll have to do it without me.” He didn't want to be on the road anymore, and he didn't want to be alone, but he'd already compromised his principles too many times. He refused to commit to something he didn't believe in—even for her.

A vision suddenly appeared of the black wolf baring his teeth at the white wolf.

He let out a bitter laugh as his grandfather's words sounded in his brain.
It is not for you to prove anything to me, Two Wolves. It is for you to find your purpose. A man with no purpose is a man with no soul.