Courage To Believe (Cowboys of Courage 2) Read online

  For a bit, he thought maybe he’d have to give up and let it go, but then he saw something that had him incredibly nervous. He crossed over the trail, narrowing his eyes and grabbing a long stick from the ground. He pushed at the leaves, uncovering some tree roots and saw the distinct hole in the ground he’d thought he saw from a distance. Reaching for a second limb and preparing to swing at anything that came out at him, Lucas poked into the hole and banged the stick around. He removed it and instantly jumped back with the other stick up in the air. The rattlesnake shot out and curled up, hissing at him and making a fierce noise with his tail.

  Lucas slammed the stick down and missed, and the snake lunged at him, nearly catching his left foot. He moved back again, and this time when he swung the small branch, he made contact with the outstretched neck. The snake was addled but not dead, and he took advantage of its confusion, beating it until it was dead. He wished he’d grabbed his gun before he left the tent; he didn’t like the brutal way he’d taken care of the predator. But it was necessary. The nest was far too close to the encampment, and only the rain had kept it from attacking overnight.

  If they were here for any length of time, it was highly likely they’d irritate the snake and his nest, and one or both of them wouldn’t have so luckily escaped the bite. Gillian was incredibly lucky she hadn’t been bitten last night. The rattlesnake was obviously the cause of her horse’s spook. Something about the way she’d landed and the way the horse had reacted must have scared the stupid reptile enough to send it slithering back into its nest.

  Lucas shook his head. He could handle a lot of things, but he really wasn’t a fan of snakes. The rest of the SNR team called him Indiana Jones when the subject came up and teased him, but Lucas didn’t particularly care. He didn’t have a morbid fear of them. He just wanted to avoid them if at all possible. And he would always kill one that got in his path.

  With nothing else to distract him, Lucas crawled back into the tent and found Gillian sitting there, wringing her hands and staring off into space. Lucas didn’t know how to address that, so he just didn’t. “The clothes can start to dry. Half the forest is on the ground out there.”

  She gazed at him absently for a second, and then she smiled. “Then you really are my hero. I’m sure a branch would have hit me in the head or something.” She looked down at her hands again, and Lucas felt really frustrated and confused. She seemed sad, and Lucas couldn’t fathom why she would be. Of course, her ankle was probably broken, which would probably ruin the plans she had for the rest of her vacation. But this looked like a much more profound sadness than a few changes to a vacation. And at the same time, Gillian talked about gratitude for being rescued. It was definitely befuddling.

  The difficulty in understanding women and their crazy emotional drama was yet another reason not to fall in love with one.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked her carefully, not wanting to cause some sort of outburst or waterfall of tears. “You seem…different than when I left a minute ago. Did something happen to your ankle?”

  “No, it’s actually not so bad.” Again, she smiled up at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and they weren’t glowing like they had been last night or after he’d kissed her. “I think I’m just a little overwhelmed by all this. I mean, who expects to get stuck in the woods in a thunderstorm on a mountain halfway through their vacation with this kind of injury? And who is so helpless and unprepared that she has to rely on a man who owes her nothing to keep her alive through it? I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

  If it was possible, she slouched further as she looked down at her hands. “And at the same time, as bad as this is, it’s been an adventure that I don’t necessarily want to repeat, but I’m not sure I want it to end, either. Maybe I just don’t have enough excitement in my life.”

  Lucas couldn’t believe his ears and sniggered. “It sounds like you’re a bit of an adrenaline junkie. If you’re that bored, there are plenty of less dangerous ways to get your kicks, you know. Hell, you could have gone to town and ridden a mechanical bull. You might have gotten thrown, but you would have landed on air pillows and had to really work at getting hurt.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she agreed with a much more genuine smile. But Gillian still seemed a bit off, and her thoughts were far removed from the conversation they were having. At least, that’s what it seemed like to Lucas.

  Changing the subject to something that made more sense to him, he told her, “I’d be willing to bet one of my friends comes for us in the next couple of hours. If we’re lucky, they’ll bring a spare horse so we can ride you out of here.”

  She gaped at him. “What about you? You need to get your shoulder taken care of, and you should probably get a hot shower in before you catch your own death.”

  “They’ll know where to find me,” he told her, trying to sound nonchalant. “They’ll bring another horse for me. And maybe a fresh set of clothes from my place.” He looked at her. “You’ll probably have to bundle in the blankets, and we’ll have to secure your leg somehow so it doesn’t swing.”

  She looked extremely unhappy, and her discontent quickly drew a scowl on her face. “I’m not leaving you here, Lucas. If someone comes, and there’s not a ride for both of us, I’m not going anywhere until they come back with another horse. I’ll only leave if the horse is big enough to carry both of us, or if they have two horses. Do you understand me?”

  He heard her loud and clear. But if he said he understood, he’d be lying. “Why are you being so damned stubborn? What does it matter if I have to wait here a couple of extra hours? I still have the tent and everything.” She was throwing a senseless tantrum.

  “You wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t come here and saved my life. There’s no way I can let you stay out here, without food, waiting to be rescued like I was. What kind of gratitude would that show?”

  “And you think it would be better to sit out here and let your ankle get worse, just because I stayed behind and waited?” He shook his head. “What kind of gratitude would that show for anyone involved? Come on, Gillian, be realistic. I’ve done this plenty of times on my own. I’ve hacked it out here for a night with fewer supplies than this.”

  “I’m sure you have, Mr. Survivalist,” she quipped sarcastically. “But I bet you had a horse and food, and you weren’t in your skivvies.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not that I mind the view and all, but you seriously need to rethink your determination to be a stubborn cuss about this situation. We both need medical attention, and I don’t want to be the reason you end up with pneumonia. If we both stay, and it starts to get cold again while we wait, at least we have each other’s body heat to keep warm.”

  Something about her mention of body heat had Lucas holding back a moan of desire. He would have no qualms at all about snuggling up with her under the blankets. In fact, he wanted to bury himself under the blanket wrapped around her right now and exchange body heat until they set the tent on fire.

  “Listen, Gillian, call me stubborn all you want. But take a good look in the mirror when you throw out that particular accusation.”

  She laughed, and no matter how angelic the sound was, it grated on his nerves at that particular moment. “I won’t deny it. You know, we really should stop bickering. It’s a waste of energy we may need later.” Now, her eyes sparkled, and Lucas swallowed hard at the particularly taunting expression she wore. “Besides, I can think of much better ways to waste energy than by fighting.”

  Gillian Grayson was going to be the death of him, one way or another. She was basically inviting him to take the next step, to cross a line he desperately wanted to cross.

  And the one he absolutely refused to compromise.

  Why was that again? Oh, yes, that stupid moral conscience of his that kept him from stepping out of line with his patients, coupled with his fierce need to avoid anything that could possibly resemble love.

  At the same time, he wanted t
o taste her again, wondering if he’d gotten the full experience the first time. Or the second. Gillian seemed like an endless source of discovery to him, and he wanted to conquer her over and over again. Deciding to turn the tables and leave the ball in her court, Lucas told her, “If there’s something you want, you’re going to have to take it.”

  Gillian glared at him and gestured to her body. “I can barely sit up, and you want me to come to you? What do I have to do, Lucas? Do I have to beg? Excuse me if I can’t get on my knees to do that.”

  It was Lucas’s turn to laugh, but that didn’t last long. His groin tightened, and his body demanded food, and not the kind that satisfied a growling stomach. He supposed Gillian’s exasperation could be considered a plea, and it didn’t fall on deaf ears.

  In the small space, it wasn’t difficult to reach her. All he had to do was lean a little, and their lips connected once again. Lucas had never grown so instantly aroused by nothing more than a kiss, and he knew that, before Gillian went home to her concrete jungle, he wanted her. He had to have more than this, or he would never be satisfied.

  He told himself that, if he got what he wanted, he could forget Gillian Grayson and go on with life as usual. After all, there was no emotional attachment that he couldn’t break. She was just a patient he happened to like and find undeniably sexy.

  The kiss grew more passionate, with more pressure, and he knew her lips would be red and swollen when he pulled away. They would call to him for more, and he would have to ignore the draw until they were somewhere more appropriate. They needed to cool it down for now, until they both had medical attention and weren’t caked with the grime of a night spent on the ground in a thunderstorm.

  But he couldn’t stop kissing her to save his own life. She tasted like strawberries and cream, and Lucas had to wonder if she’d eaten that before she’d left yesterday or if it was her natural flavor.

  He lost himself, and Gillian didn’t seem to be keeping track of time, either. She traced her fingers over his face, through his hair, and over his shoulders to his back. Lucas let her, the feel of her hands on him delightful.

  “Lucas!”

  Hearing his name cried out cut through the sexual tension like a knife, severing not only the kiss but also the mood. He jumped, and so did Gillian, making them both wince in pain but putting clear distance between them, as much as the tiny tent would afford.

  Wanting to curse at the top of his lungs, Lucas told her, “Well that sounds like our rescue.” She simply nodded, her chest heaving as she tugged the blanket higher around her chest. Only then did he notice she’d started to let it slip.

  Hearing his name again, he told her, “I’m stepping outside to wave whoever it is down, okay? Just sit tight.” He took a good, long look at her, suddenly attacked by disappointment and resentment toward their rescuer. He hadn’t expected anyone for at least another hour or so, and while this was better for avoiding compromising circumstances, it was also incredibly annoying.

  He stepped out in his skivvies, as Gillian called them, and hollered back, “Over here!”

  Garrett and Shakota appeared over the horizon, and they had two horses with them. Lucas was relieved; it meant Gillian wouldn’t fight him about leaving. “Well, aren’t you a sight?” Garrett laughed.

  Shakota gave him a onceover, which made him a little uncomfortable, since she was sitting right next to her fiancé. “I assume you found her, since I see a woman’s jacket and shirt hanging over there. Where are her pants?”

  Lucas walked up to them as they dismounted and shook their hands. He didn’t dare get any closer in his condition. “She’s in the tent. I had to cut her pants off. They were soaked, and she’s got a pretty bad ankle injury.” He made a face. “Rover got spooked, and I have no idea where the hell he got off to.”

  “He’s back at the Breckinridge place. Hilda was out early this morning to make sure she didn’t lose any roof tiles, and he was in the pasture across from her, soaked to the bone,” Shakota told him. “She took him into the stables and cleaned him up. She thinks he’ll be fine, might get a little cold.”

  That was a huge weight off Lucas’s shoulders. He could handle a cold. He couldn’t wrap his head around lost or dead. “I’ll have to do something to thank her. And the two of you. I was hoping you’d come out.”

  Garrett snorted. “Why didn’t you just use the radio?”

  Lucas glared at him. “It seems our sheriff forgot to check all the batteries before he handed them out.” With a sigh, he said, “I just appreciate you coming. I’ll have to find some way to repay you.”

  “Start by covering yourself,” Garrett told him, tossing him a bag and giving him a disgusted look. “I don’t want to look at your ass anymore.”

  Shakota tossed him another bag. “These are Gillian’s. I went by Carrie’s last night and asked for them. I had a feeling you’d make it out here but not back, so I thought I’d come prepared.”

  Lucas was relieved, though he had no idea how he was going to get pants back on Gillian. But when he opened the bag, he saw they were old sweatpants. He could cut them and rig them to work. “This is awesome. I’ll get us ready to go now.” He ducked into the tent and heard movement outside. It sounded like they were shaking off the tarp and rolling it up.

  Lucas answered the expectant look on Gillian’s face with a broad grin, showing her the clothes. “I’m not the only one who thinks ahead.”

  She clapped like an elated schoolgirl, but her smile faded quickly when she picked up the pants. “Lucas, I can’t wear these. I can’t get them over my ankle.”

  He shrugged. “Are you really attached to them? I mean, they’re just sweatpants.”

  “Not particularly, but…” She trailed off and gave him a long suffering look. “Are you going to cut up my clothes again?”

  “It’s either that or try to rig up one of the blankets. That’s going to be pretty difficult since we’ll have to strap your leg up.”

  Chapter 8

  Gillian was tired of caring. She wasn’t ready to go back yet. Lucas was already slipping back into professional mode, and her fantasy was ending. Of course, Gillian had no intention of continuing anything with her savior. It was too much of a harried situation, and she hadn’t been kidding about her feelings regarding marriage.

  But for this short period of time, she could pretend. They had been on the verge of giving into the desperate desire she knew Lucas felt as strongly as she did. And the interruption of their rescuers infuriated Gillian. She understood they would eventually have been returned to civilization, but she’d felt safe here with Lucas. She hadn’t worried so much about how long it would be before that rescue came. And now, it had come all too soon.

  “I don’t care what you do to the damn pants,” she told him. She knew she sounded petty, but it didn’t matter anymore. The little back and forth flirtation was over. Lucas would deliver her home to Aunt Carrie and Uncle Roger, or maybe straight to the hospital, and he’d conclude his obligation to her. He was certainly nothing if not a professional, and he’d go back to treating her as a patient.

  Especially after the fit she’d thrown initially about his trying to take advantage of her. What had she been thinking? Gillian yanked the sweatshirt over her head and shoved her arms in the holes while Lucas faced away from her, working on her pants. She had no idea what he planned, and right now, she didn’t care. He still hadn’t dressed, and Gillian decided to take in the eyeful while she could. After all, she couldn’t guarantee she’d ever see such a perfectly developed set of lines and rippled muscles again.

  Turning to her with a triumphant look, he said, “I got it.” He held up the sweatpants, and she frowned. They looked like rags now, and the entire inseam and crotch had been cut open. “Lean forward, and I’ll pull it over your head.”

  Gillian did as he said, and he pulled the mass of tattered black material over her head and down to her waist. But as he pulled the front down over the blanket, she started to see what he’d done. I
t was really sort of genius. “Now, I need you to roll slightly to the left so I can get the material wrapped around your right leg. We’ll do the same for the left.”

  Gillian did, wincing only a little when she moved her ankle the wrong way. In no time, he was tying two of the strips he’d cut at each of her ankles, the one over her swollen ankle quiet loose. She followed suit, reaching under the blanket and tying off the other three strips he’d cut up and down the legs. There wasn’t much she could do about the crotch, but the sweatshirt was far enough oversized that she could pull it down to cover.

  At that point, Lucas began to dress, and vast disappointment flooded Gillian’s chest in such a rush she wanted to cry. She swallowed against the strange and unexpected emotion, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. Lucas still looked utterly devastating in the tight-fit white t-shirt and low-slung cowboy-cut jeans. They fit tight to mid-calf and left room for boots underneath. He had the tightest, nicest rear she’d seen maybe ever, and resting above legs that were actually strong and muscular, it looked incredible.

  “I’m taking the tent down around you. I don’t want to try to drag you out of here with that ankle,” he told her as he pulled on his boots with a pair of fresh socks. “Then Garrett can help me get you settled on a horse with your ankle immobilized as best we can.”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she watched his movements, efficient and practiced while still being graceful and strong. She caught her first glimpse of Garrett and Shakota, both of whom Lucas had spoken so highly of last night. The Native American woman was intimidatingly gorgeous, with her long black hair, olive skin, and exotic eyes. And Garrett was a vision himself. They would definitely make pretty babies together.

  For Gillian, though, Garrett didn’t quite rate as highly as Lucas in the looks department. There were polite introductions, and Gillian instantly liked Shakota. She was young, probably close to Gillian’s own age, but she had an old soul. And she wasn’t some weak, high maintenance cheerleader type. She was tough and capable, while retaining the feminine appeal of a woman. That’s what Gillian wished she was, though she knew she didn’t have the discipline to ever be that rough or that strong.