The Return Of David Mckay

“Hey, cut me some slack,” David complained as he plopped his duffel bag on the ground. “I was up until two this morning getting everything ready.”

His grandmother came out of the stable with a nice-looking guy dressed like the Marlboro Man. David bent to brush a kiss against her cheek. “Morning, Gran. Haven’t changed your mind by any chance, have you?”

“Oh, heavens no,” she exclaimed. “I’m itchin’to make tracks. That’s cowboy lingo,” she confided in a mischievous tone. “Brandon taught me.” She touched the sleeve of the man by her side. “This is Brandon O’Dell, David. He runs the front desk, but lately he’s been helping out here at the stable. Brandon, my overprotective grandson David.”

The two men shook hands. The guy fit the cowboy profile. Strong, silent type. He excused himself quickly to check one of the horse’s saddles.

Gran straightened as if for inspection. “How do I look?”

David slid his sunglasses down his nose. She wore pink polyester slacks, a gaily colored blouse with lace at the collar and cuffs and an enormous sun hat held on by a lavender ribbon tied under her chin. Like an explosion in a flower garden, he thought. God help us.

He smiled his approval. “Just like Annie Oakley.”

Looking pleased, Gran went to a spotted horse that was tied to the corral railing and fed the animal a few carrots. Beside it, a fine-boned mare with a blaze down its face stamped impatiently. A little way off, Addy began to work on the pack of a mule that looked as if it could think of better things to do so early in the morning.

“Cut it out, Bounder,” Addy commanded, kneeing the mule in the belly so that the animal grunted and sucked air. David watched Addy retighten the cinch with quick, efficient movements.

“Need any help?” he asked, feeling that he should at least make the offer even though he knew she didn’t need it with O’Dell there. Coming from him, she probably wouldn’t have accepted it anyway.

“Nope.” She squinted down at the little mountain of luggage he’d brought. “Too much stuff.”

“Only the necessities.’

“Did you keep to my list?”

“Pretty much.”

She jerked her head toward the black canvas tote that sat on top of his duffel bag. “What’s in there?”

“My laptop.”

She turned an astounded look his way. “A computer.” She shook her head. “No way.”

He’d expected her objection and prepared for it. “I have obligations. I can work in the evening after we’ve camped and communicate with my office by cellular modem. None of it will interfere with your plans on this trip.”

She gave the mule’s cinch a final yank, then turned toward David. Those lovely dark eyes sparked with hot, piercing lights. “My mule isn’t a four-legged secretary who’s going to fetch and carry your office equipment.”

“Fine. Loan me a backpack and I’ll carry it myself.”

“It stays here.”

“It goes,” he countered in the same dead-level tone.

“David, I’m not just being stubborn about this. We pack light by necessity.”

“You’ve allowed Gran to bring her flower press and sketch book.”

Color flew up her cheeks, and he felt the solid power of her antagonism. She gave him a serpentine smile. “You want to bring your flower press? Feel free.”

He sighed and shook his head, then pulled the brochure she’d given him yesterday out of his jeans pocket. He held it up in front of her and removed his sunglasses. “It says here, ‘Guests participating in overnight pack trips may bring items of personal entertainment such as paperback books, personal stereos and games as long as said items do not disrupt the enjoyment of other campers or exceed five pounds per person.”

“Yes, but—”

David rammed the brochure back into his pocket and with the tip of his fingers lifted the computer satchel. “Even with the extra batteries I brought, this weighs only three and a half. I checked.”

He heard O’Dell chuckle behind him. “He’s got you there, Ad,” the man said as he came around them to tie off one of the mule lines.

Addy made a face at the man. “Whose side are you on?”

“The customer is always right.”

I like this guy, David thought. Why can’t he be the one to take Gran out on this trip?

With a frown, Addy yanked on one of the reins tied to the hitching post. “Let’s go. We’re burning daylight.”

They mounted and settled into their saddles with the usual last-minute adjustments for stirrups and reins. And then a strange thing happened. Brandon O’Dell put his hand on Addy’s jeans-clad leg to catch her attention.

“Take it easy out there,” he told her.

She nodded, and he pulled her down to his level for a quick kiss.

Whoa, cowboy. It was almost over before it happened, but David caught it. It confused the heck out of him.

They all turned into the trail that led away from the corral. Day one of a two-week journey into folly. And all David could think was, What kind of ranch hand gets to kiss the trail boss goodbye?

ADDY SET THE PACE ON Sheba and tugged a lazy Bounder behind her by a guide rope tied to her saddle. Geneva, appearing to be a surprisingly capable rider, had fallen in after her on Clover, and David brought up the rear on Injun Joe, leading Little Legs, the second pack mule.

The laptop computer had been slipped into a spare backpack, and, giving her a look that indicated its weight was insignificant, David had fit it onto his shoulders.

We’ll see, she thought. After a few days on the trail, that pack will feel like it’s filled with bricks.

She wondered what kind of trip this would turn out to be. She should have insisted Brandon come along. But he’d said the lodge was too busy right now to be short even one person.

Since they’d added overnight camping trips to the lodge’s amenities, she’d dealt with all kinds of guests—weekend warriors eager to play cowboy, know-it-alls who bored everyone, male chauvinists who didn’t want to take direction from a woman and even an occasional letch who pinched her rear end as she saddled the horses.

But not one of them had ever been an ex-lover. How did you make innocent small talk around the campfire when you shared that kind of history?

Last night Dani had convinced Addy that she could handle whatever happened in the next two weeks. She was tough. Resilient. She didn’t have to worry about being around David McKay. She could take whatever he wanted to dish out.

Swearing Dani to secrecy about the miscarriage, Addy had pulled herself together. This morning she just hoped that her determination could stick.

Under the pretense of checking Bounder’s lead, Addy swung around in the saddle. Geneva sat, brightly observant of everything around her. Behind the old woman, David had coaxed Joe into an easy walk.

She had to admit he still had his riding seat. He didn’t slump or hold the reins high and loose. His extremely broad, masculine chest, with its glimpse of dark hair above the sharply pressed blue shirtfront, remained perfectly still as his hips swayed slightly to match Joe’s gait.

He looked bored. It was hard to tell because the sunglasses were back in place. When he realized that Addy was watching him, he lifted his hand in a wave and smiled a smile too wide for sincerity.

In that moment there was a little trill of sound, like a songbird’s call. In astonishment Addy watched as David pulled a cellular phone out of his shirt pocket and proceeded to carry on a conversation with someone named Rob.