Wild Fire (8 page)

He kept his eyes on hers until she turned her head away. He had backed down quickly enough. Why did she feel she was in the wrong?

Greg rode up behind Colin. “Can you two settle this later? I'd like to finish this ride sometime in the next century.”

Colin snorted and turned his horse up the trail. Kara followed, and Greg fell in behind. A few yards ahead she saw that Colin was right; there was no way to see the upcoming curves. She shivered. If she had kept up the pace, they'd have run right into a tree, or Lily would have reared and sent them both rolling down into the river.

Once past the curves, Colin put Dakota into a trot. Kara squeezed Lily's sides with her thighs and caught up with him. “Colin. Wait.”

He slowed to a walk, and she rode up alongside him. She took a deep breath. “Look, you were right. I'm sorry, okay? I've been in a rotten mood all day.”

He tipped his hat. “Apology accepted.”

Kara expected him to flash his little-boy grin. When he didn't, she rushed on. “There's something I wanted to ask you. That bumper sticker on your truck. Let go . . .”

“And get a grip on God.” He finished it for her.

“Yeah. That's it. What does it mean?”

“I heard that at a camp for troubled youths. It's what finally got me going in the right direction and held me together when things got rough.”

Troubled youth? Colin?
“When? Oh, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

He looked over his shoulder where Greg was riding about ten feet behind them. “It's no big deal. Greg's heard it before.” He ignored Greg's bored expression and went on. “My folks split when I was fourteen. I couldn't handle it. Dropped out of school, hung around with the wrong crowd. Mom bailed me out three or four times then gave up on me
.

“The judge sent me to this camp. The motto was, ‘Let go and get a grip on God.' It means let go of whatever's got a grip on you—you know? For me it was anger and grief over my parents' divorce. I learned to let it go and get a grip on God instead.”

Kara tried not to show her surprise. She'd never have guessed Colin had been a troublemaker. He didn't go around talking about God all the time, but he didn't go around cussing and fighting like some guys she knew either. She turned back to what he was saying.

“One of the counselors there showed me how God could make a difference in my life.”

“What did you do after you got out of . . . uh, youth camp?”

He ducked under a low-hanging tree branch and held it back for Kara to pass. “I went to my uncle in Fairbanks for a couple of years. He ran fishing expeditions in the summer. When I wasn't busy catching up with schoolwork, I went along as guide. Learned a thing or two about the wilderness out there.”

“When did you learn to ride?”

“That's how we got around most of the time. Pretty rugged country. The rest I picked up mucking stalls. Until my uncle got sick and decided I'd be better off on the mainland. He e-mailed an old friend, who turned out to be your dad. When your dad offered me this job, I jumped at it.”

Kara smiled.
Softhearted Dad
. “What about high school? Did you ever finish?”

“Almost. Only six credits to go. I plan to finish them in the fall. Greg and I will go to the same junior college, only I'll work for your dad during the day and go to school at night.”

Colin reached over and tugged at her braid. “Well, Miss Kara, now that you know my life story, are you planning to run me off the ranch?”

Kara laughed. “Maybe.” She smacked his hand away and flipped the braid over her shoulder. “The road's pretty straight here. Okay if we canter, Mister Trail Expert?”

He nodded and let her go. By the time he and Greg caught up, she had stopped where the trail ended at an abandoned campsite.

Colin's background surprised her. The part about the youth camp anyway. She needed to think about what he had said. But this wasn't the time or the place.

“Looks like this is the end of the road.” She dismounted and led Lily to a patch of knee-high grass. The mare munched contentedly while Kara drank water from her canteen and passed around the oatmeal cookies Anne had handed her just as she was walking out the door
.

“This is as far as the horses can go.” Colin's mouth was full, and Kara could hardly understand him.

“What do you mean?” She looked around. The campsite was surrounded by thick stands of fir and pine. Berry briers tangled in the underbrush on the other side of the trail, and just below them the swollen river ran twenty yards across
.

“I mean,” Colin licked his fingers clean of crumbs, “the horses can't go any farther, but once you get past these trees there's a deer trail you can follow on foot.”

Kara peered into the brush. “How far does it go?”

Colin shrugged. “Don't know. Greg and I only walked it a couple of miles. Haven't had time to really explore.”

She felt a surge of excitement. “Why can't we follow it now? The horses would be okay . . .”

Greg's voice interrupted her. “Hey, it's no skin off my hide, but it's almost one o'clock, and if you guys aren't back to greet the guests, Bossman might get ticked.”

Bossman? Kara started to tell Greg off, but settled for a dirty look instead. There had been enough conflict for one day
.

“He's right.” Colin sounded as disappointed as she was.

She watched him swing into the saddle and turn Dakota's head around in one easy motion. Then he tipped his hat and bowed in her direction. “Next time, ma'am, I'd be happy to escort you down that trail.”

Kara fervently hoped there would be a next time. She stowed her canteen and turned Lily's nose toward home.

Back at the lodge, she changed into clean jeans and a colorful V-neck blouse, then headed for the kitchen to find Anne
.

The cook was bent over the stove, stirring a pot of fire-starter chili. Kara inhaled the smell of fresh-baked corn bread and remembered she'd had only two oatmeal cookies for lunch.

Anne handed her a stack of bowls. “The boys will be hungry too.” She smiled and turned out a whole tin of corn bread into a cloth-lined basket.

Kara felt uneasy as she ladled out the bowls of chili. Anne didn't act any differently after the fuss at the table this morning.
She had to know I was mad
. She wondered if Ryan had said anything about what happened at the barn. She didn't much want to follow through on her talk with him, but she knew she shouldn't let it go.

“Is Dad back?”

Anne nodded, then added softly, “Ryan is asleep. Last night was long. For all of us.”

Kara felt herself relax. Somehow those few words melted the resentment inside her and made everything seem all right again. She knew she should offer to let Anne ride Lily, but before she could say anything, Colin and Greg stomped through the kitchen door, letting it bang closed behind them.

“Whooee, does that smell good! I'm as hungry as a winter-starved bear.” Colin reached for a square of corn bread.

Without thinking, Kara snatched the basket away. “Colin Jones, look at your hands!”

Anne nodded soberly and pointed toward the sink.

Colin grinned and grabbed the bar of Lava soap. “Okay, okay, I guess I know when I'm outnumbered. Boy, you women are bossy!”

Anne laughed, but Kara wanted to crawl under a chair.
There I go again, sounding like my mother!
Colin would never take her seriously.

They had barely finished lunch when the radio crackled to life. Greg hurried into the storeroom and switched on the receiver.

“Eagle Lodge.”

Static drowned out the first few words, then the pilot's voice came through. “. . . clouds over here. What's it like on your side? Over.”

Greg pushed a button on the mike. “We're clear all the way to the top of the mountain, Mark. Over.”

“Okay. Got some company for you. Be there in thirty. Over and out.”

T
HE REST OF THE DAY
went by in a blur of activity. Kara set up the dining room for dinner and gave tours of the property. When one of the guests needed a flashlight and another wanted extra towels, she trooped out to the cabins with the needed supplies
.

On Saturday afternoon she started a letter to Tia.

I almost wish I was back in Lariat cramming for exams. This is hard work. Tonight is the dance. Actually we decided just to play music and let everyone do what they want. I'm going to wear that new outfit Dad bought me. I can't believe I'm so nervous. There's no one to dance with but Colin, and what if he doesn't ask?

At nine o'clock she slipped the silky white blouse over her head and let it settle at her waist. The denim skirt ended just above the knees; short enough to show off the fringed leather boots, but long enough to satisfy Dad.

She leaned backward, shook her head, and combed her fingers through her hair. Anne had fashioned narrow, waist-length braids on each side of her face for her, weaving
in thin strands of blue and white leather. She looked more like the first Wakara than ever.

She took a deep breath, opened her bedroom door, and followed the strum of a bass guitar into the main room of the lodge
.

A country song echoed through the speakers. Across the room Colin slipped a CD case back into the holder. The guests stood around talking and sipping hot drinks.

Ryan and the Wilson kids were hopping up and down in the middle of the dance floor. “Hey Kara, come and dance. Jenny really knows how.” Ryan's voice carried over the music, and she wanted to clamp her hand over his mouth
.

Everyone stopped talking, and one of the men gave a low whistle. They were all looking at her. The overhead lights were bright. Her face was on fire, and she felt suddenly lightheaded.
Oh, God, please don't let me faint
. She couldn't run back to her room. That would look so . . .

Dad's arm circled her shoulders. “You look wonderful, Sugar Bear. Anne saved you a diet Coke. It's in the fridge.”

Mom would be proud of you
. He didn't say it, but she could hear it in his voice. Instead of making her sad, she felt happier than she had in months.

The music changed to a slower song. She looked up and saw Colin walking toward her. He had changed into a colorful, long-sleeved shirt, black Wranglers, and freshly polished boots. When he got closer she could smell his aftershave
.

“Want to show these city folk how to dance?”

She nodded and took his outstretched hand.

Colin's two-step was smooth. “You look nice, Wakara.” He reached up and drew one thin braid over her shoulder. “Like a real Indian princess.”

She looked for the teasing laughter in his eyes. It wasn't there.
He's serious
. For some reason that made her nervous. She decided to lighten the moment. “I am an Indian princess, Colin Jones. And don't you forget it.”

He smiled then, and the rest of the evening was fun. She danced with Dad and Ryan, then three more times with Colin. By midnight she was exhausted but too excited to sleep
.

Dad had hustled Ryan off to bed hours ago. When the guests had all gone back to their cabins, Colin yawned and stretched. “Guess I'd better turn in too. Got some folks who want to ride early tomorrow, and your dad's going to have a church service at seven o'clock.”

Kara groaned. “Sunday's supposed to be my day off. You'd think I'd be able to sleep in.”

“You can.” Colin's grin was back. “You can sleep 'til six o'clock instead of five.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “You're a great dancer, Wakara. Thanks.”

She caught her breath. By the time she thought to say, “Good night, Colin, I had fun too,” he was already out the door.

Back in her room, she picked up her letter to Tia.

What a night. Colin is an awesome dancer. Sometimes I think he really likes me. I wish I could figure out how I feel about him
.

All night long, in her dreams, the music played while she and Colin danced. When the alarm went off at six, she wondered if anything about last night had been real.

At breakfast Colin gobbled his food, then grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. “Gotta get the horses saddled. A few of the men are going fishing upriver, but
the rest of the group want to ride.” He was gone before Kara could say good morning.

Greg tossed his napkin on the table. “I'm outta here. Mark, you ready?”

The pilot nodded. “Sure, but why the hurry? The ranch isn't going anywhere.”

Greg just glared at him and stalked off. He came back with his bulging sports bag and dropped it with a thud at the front door.

Mark shrugged and downed the last of his coffee. “Great meal, Ms. Lightfoot. You're the best cook in the state.” He kissed her cheek, and her face darkened in a blush.