Marooned with the Maverick Page 10

  She only shrugged and faced front again and tried not to feel smug that he had just proved the truth in what she’d said to him the night before.

  * * *

  Outside after the service, Thelma embraced Collin and laid her hand gently on the side of his face. “Such a fine young man,” she told him softly. And then she raised her lacy handkerchief to dab at her wet eyes.

  A couple of the Dalton men clasped his shoulder as they filed out of the chapel. Willa observed all this and tried really hard not to feel too self-righteous about the things she’d said the night before. He really was a born leader, but what he did with that talent had to be of his own choosing.

  Paige touched her arm. “I’d ask you to come sit with me for lunch, but I have a feeling you’ve got plans.”

  Willa gave her a hug and they parted. Buster whined at her, eager to be released from the iron bench where she’d leashed him. She went over and got him, crouching to pet him and make a fuss over him for being so good during the long church service.

  “Rumor has it the church ladies are serving pizza for lunch today,” Collin said from behind her.

  Buster whined and wagged his tail in greeting and Willa’s heart seemed to do a sort of forward roll under her breastbone. She asked, without turning, “Does the rumor mention pepperoni?”

  “Yeah. Pepperoni and sausage, too.” He dropped to a crouch at her side. Buster wiggled closer to him and head-butted his hand. Collin scratched the dog behind both ears and Buster lolled his tongue in doggy bliss.

  Willa felt terribly shy suddenly. She stared at his hands as he petted her dog. “I, um, should walk Buster first....”

  “Hey.”

  Her throat had a big lump in it. She gulped it down and made herself meet those low-lidded black eyes. “Hmm?”

  “We okay, you and me?”

  She remembered that she was going to apologize. “I lectured you. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

  “You got nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was low and more than a little rough. The sound of it sent a warm, lovely shiver running underneath her skin. He added, “You got a right to your opinion.”

  “But, well, you did get mad.”

  He smiled then, one of those slow smiles of his, the kind that used to make all the girls back in high school sigh and fan themselves. “So then, I’m sorry. I had no right at all to jump all over you for telling the truth as you see it.” He kept on looking at her, a deep look that made her whole body feel sensitized, excited. Wonderfully alive. “Forgive me?”

  That lump was back in her throat again. She gulped a second time to clear it. “I do. And yes. We’re okay.”

  “Whew.”

  She felt her mouth tremble into a smile that answered his. “Did you go up to your house, then?”

  “No. I’m hoping I’ll get to that tomorrow. This morning, I went out to the Triple T and had breakfast with the hands. They got the wells in working order, so I had a shower, too.” He swept upward and she stood, too. “Let’s walk this dog,” he said.

  “Good idea.”

  “The park? We can let him run.”

  “Perfect.”

  * * *

  After lunch, the governor dropped in—literally—in a helicopter.

  The chopper landed in the middle of Main Street and the governor emerged, waving and smiling, trailed by a guy in a FEMA vest and another, more muscular fellow in dark glasses. Waving as he went, the governor ran up and stood on the town hall steps, where the town council members waited. He shook hands with each of them.

  And then he gave a little speech—more of a pep talk, really. He said the same things Nathan was always saying: that road crews and the power and telephone companies were working around-the-clock to get the roads open and services back online. He asked everyone to sit tight until services were restored and, whenever possible, to stay in the Rust Creek Falls Valley until the roads were declared safe for travel.

  He praised their spirit of independence, their ability to roll up their sleeves and do for themselves. Since the good people of Rust Creek Falls seemed to be managing better than most in the stricken areas, he could see that the Red Cross and the National Guard wouldn’t be needed there—not at that point anyway.

  After the governor spoke, the FEMA guy talked about the services FEMA offered and the progress of the cleanup. And then, with more smiling and waving, the three visitors ran back and boarded the helicopter and off they went.

  Collin leaned close and said in her ear, “Wasn’t that inspiring?” She gave him a look and left it at that. And then he said, “I was thinking we could try and see what we can salvage from Gage’s house.”

  She wanted to grab him and hug him—for being so generous, for thinking of her poor brother, who had to be worried sick about now and was no doubt moving heaven and earth to get back to town. “Yes. Please. Let’s do that.”

  The church ladies had several boxes they could spare. So she and Collin put them in the back of his pickup and headed for the ranch, where they worked until after five packing up things at Gage’s and putting them with Willa’s boxes in her father’s work shed.

  They made it back to town in time for dinner at the church. As they ate beans and rice with ham, Nathan got up and proudly announced that cell phone service was restored. He reminded them of the places that had generators where they might charge their batteries. People applauded the news—and then hurried off to find the phones they’d stopped carrying around with them for the past three days.

  In the pickup, Collin called his mother first. Willa had run out with him and ended up sitting in the passenger seat beside him as he nodded and listened, and seemed to be having trouble getting a word in edgewise. He kept trying to tell his mom what had happened there at home, but Ellie Traub had never been the quiet type. As soon as he started talking, she would get going again and he ended up mostly saying, “Yeah. Okay. All right. That’s good, Mom. Really...”

  When he finally said goodbye, he reported to Willa that his mom, his dad and his brothers were fine. “They got the rain down there in Thunder Canyon,” he said, “but flooding was minimal. Mom says they’re willing to wait a few more days until the governor gives the go-ahead. But if the okay doesn’t come soon, they’re heading for home.” He added that the people of Thunder Canyon were already talking about ways to help Rust Creek Falls with flood cleanup and the rebuilding that would follow.

  And then he handed her the phone. “Go on. Call your folks.”

  Again, she had a really strong urge to hug him. But instead she started dialing.

  Lavinia Christensen cried when Willa said hello. “We’ve been calling and calling,” she sobbed. And then she wanted to know why Willa wasn’t calling from her own cell.

  Willa explained that she’d lost it in the flood. “This is Collin’s cell.”

  Her mother sniffled. “Collin Traub?”

  “Yes.” She cast Collin a warm glance. “He’s been great to me, Mom. Wonderful.” Collin sent her one of those knock-it-off looks when he heard her praising him. She pretended not to notice.

  Her mom was kind of sputtering. “Well, I, ahem. The Traubs are good people.”

  “They certainly are—and if you need to reach me, just call this number. Collin will make sure I get back to you until I can get a phone of my own.”

  “I...I will. Yes. Of course.”

  Willa assured her mom that she was all right and that the ranch house was fine and so was the barn. She said that most of the stock had survived the flood and the neighbors had all pitched in to keep the animals fed and to clean up the mess. Her mom cried some more when she heard the bad news about Willa’s house and Gage’s place.

  It turned out her folks were still in Livingston, waiting for news that the roads were clear. Gage, however, had set out for home.<
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  When Willa called him, she had to explain all over again that he should call her on Collin’s phone for the time being. He started quizzing her about Collin.

  She cut him short. “What about you? Where are you now?”

  He said he’d been held up three times so far with washed-out bridges and roads, but he wasn’t giving up and had spent each night since the flood in a different town. Willa got teary eyed then and told him about the condition of his house—and hers. Her brother said he loved her and not to cry and he would be there as soon as he could. He said he’d visited the sheriff’s stations in the towns where he’d stayed and used their radio systems to contact his office. So he’d known that she was all right and he’d been told of the death of Hunter McGee.

  When he mentioned Mayor McGee, Willa started crying all over again. She’d been dry-eyed at the funeral, but there was something about her brother’s voice. She could tell that the mayor’s death had hit him hard. Collin hauled a box of tissues from the glove box and passed it to her. She grabbed one and wiped at her streaming eyes.

  When she hung up with Gage, she gave the phone back to Collin. He turned on the pickup so he could hook up his car charger and then, with the phone plugged in, he called a couple of his brothers in Thunder Canyon and then his brother Sutter, in Washington State.

  When he hung up, he said in a tone that dared her to argue, “I think a lot of Sutter. He’s a damn good man.”

  Willa only nodded. There were people in town who didn’t approve of the stand Sutter had taken when their older brother Forrest went off to fight in Iraq. And then there was the way he’d broken Paige’s heart. But still. Willa had always liked Sutter and if he and Collin were on good terms, well, that was just fine with her.

  Collin narrowed those almost-black eyes at her and his full mouth curved down at the corners. “You got something on your mind, Willa, you ought to just go ahead and say it.”

  Willa answered sweetly, “You love your brother. There is nothing wrong with that.”

  * * *

  That evening, the number of citizens requiring emergency shelter was a third what it had been the first night. FEMA had brought in some trailers that day for people to stay in temporarily. And more people had either left town to stay with relatives or moved in with friends. A lucky few had discovered that the damage to their homes wasn’t bad enough to keep them from moving back in.

  Willa and Collin stayed in the town hall again that night. After the lights were out, she took Buster and went to join Collin under the stars.

  “Been waiting for you,” he said when she dropped down beside him.

  A little thrill shivered through her at his words and she had to remind herself not to be an idiot. It wasn’t a man-woman kind of thing between them. They were friends. Good friends, amazingly. But that was all. He wasn’t interested in her in that way and he never had been.

  She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them. “Are you still planning to go up the mountain tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. In the afternoon. It should be fine up there. The generator automatically kicks in when the power goes out, so what’s in the fridge and the freezer stays cold. I’ve got a freezer full of food I’ll bring down and donate to the church kitchen.”

  She stared at him, thinking how smoking hot he was—because, hey, even if they were just friends, there was no law that said a girl couldn’t look. She could get lost in those eyes of his. And even in the darkness, his hair had a shine to it. And it was so thick.

  That night four years ago, at the Ace in the Hole, before he laughed at her and told her to get lost, they’d danced to a couple of slow numbers together. She remembered so clearly the feel of his hard, hot shoulder beneath her hand. His lips had looked soft and dangerous, both at once. And the scent of him: incomparable, a heady mix of aftershave, man and something temptingly wild. The rush of blood through her veins had been dizzying. And she would never forget her powerful desire to slide her fingers upward, over the hot flesh of his neck and into that thick, crow-black hair of his.

  He asked, “Do I have dirt on my nose?”

  She chuckled, the sound surprisingly husky to her own ears. “No. Why?”

  He held her gaze as though he never planned to look away. “You’re staring at me.”

  Right. She supposed that she was. She went on staring and told him way too dreamily, “Buster and I are going with you.”

  “Going with me where?”

  “Up to your house tomorrow.”

  Those thick inky brows drew together. “It’s not a good idea.”

  Too bad. He wasn’t talking her out of it. But for now, she played along. “Why not?”

  “The road up there is bound to be a mess. It could be dangerous.”

  “All the more reason you shouldn’t go alone.”

  “You’re going to protect me, are you?”

  She braced her chin on her hand. “I am. Absolutely. You’re a big, tough guy and all, I know. But even tough guys sometimes need a little help.”

  The way he was looking at her now, she could almost imagine that he did think of her that way. Which probably meant she was being an idiot again. But so what? There were a lot worse things than being an idiot. A girl could live her whole life without ever getting her fingers into Collin’s black hair. That would be sad. Immeasurably so.

  Now he was looking stern. “It’s not a good idea.”

  “You already said that.”

  “I’ll probably end up staying up there overnight.”

  “So? I’ll take the sleeping bag from my cot. It will be fine.”

  He seemed a little insulted. “I have a guest room—and believe it or not, it has a bed in it, complete with sheets and blankets and pillows.”

  “Wonderful. So it’s settled.”

  He wasn’t going for it. “I told you. You need to stay here.”

  “We’ll see....”

  “I mean it, Willa. You are not going up the mountain with me.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Collin rejoined his team.

  Before he left to help with cleanup down in the area around the flooded clinic, Willa told him that she and Paige and some of the other teachers had been asked to reconvene summer school. Since the day would be a clear one, they would hold their classes in Rust Creek Falls Park. On rainy days, classes would be hosted by some of the parents—and a few of the teachers, as well.

  When he came in for lunch in the church, he returned a call from his mom, one from his brother Clay and another from Sutter. Then he made calls to a few top CT Saddles customers. He apologized for the fact that he would be filling their orders late. They’d all heard about the flood and told him not to worry, to stay safe and take his time.

  Willa wasn’t there at the church for lunch. He ignored the little curl of disappointment in his chest when he didn’t see her. Every day he was with her, it got easier to let himself think that there was more going on between them than friendship.

  There wasn’t. Once things got back to normal, her big-shot boyfriend would show up. She would realize what that other guy could offer her and she would end up with his ring on her finger. Which was the way it should be. Willa deserved the best.

  Dolly Tabor, one of his teammates on the rescue-turned-cleanup crew, had kids in summer school. She mentioned that the church ladies were delivering the school lunches to the park.

  So, great, he thought. Willa was having lunch with the kids in the park.

  He asked Dolly, real casual-like, when summer school would be over for the day. Dolly said at three.

  Collin made his plans accordingly. He knew Willa and he knew her ways. She thought she was going up the mountain with him. And there was more than one good reason why he couldn’t let that happen. For one thing, the trip up there was like
ly to be hazardous. He wasn’t putting Willa in danger. And then, if they ended up stuck at his place for the night, well, that would present a whole other kind of danger.

  It was one thing to be alone with her for an hour out on the town hall steps at night, or while they worked side by side hauling stuff out of her brother’s flooded house. It was another thing altogether to spend the night with her at his place, just the two of them, alone on Falls Mountain.

  Uh-uh. That would be asking for the kind of trouble they weren’t going to get into together. He had to face reality here. He’d done what he could to help her through the worst of it after the flood. Her family would be back in town any day now. From what she’d said about Gage working his way north, her brother could be home already.

  Collin needed to start getting a little distance from her. He had to stop spending so much time with her, had to give up those nighttime talks out on the town hall steps. He needed to stop kidding himself that it was innocent, that they were just hanging out, joking around a little before turning in.

  It wasn’t innocent—not for him anyway. Every night it got harder to keep his hands to himself. If he didn’t get some distance, he would end up making a move on her.

  He knew she really wanted to be his friend and all that. But he wanted more than friendship and where was that going to go? He liked his relationships with women to be simple—and short.

  Nothing with Willa was simple. So he would put an end to it, make sure it never even had a chance to get started. She would be hurt and probably angry with him for taking off up the mountain without a word to her. But too bad.

  It was for the best.

  He got Jerry Dobbs aside and said he was heading up to his place. Jerry clapped him on the back and told him to be careful on the road up there.

  Across the street at the town hall, he collected the plastic bag full of clothes and personal items he’d left under his cot. Marjorie Hanke was there, so he told her he wouldn’t be needing the cot anymore.

  And that was it. He was free to get the hell outta town.