One Stubborn Texan

Chapter Five

Sydney shut her mouth. Four miles? Why was she panicking? She could do four miles. In New York terms, that was forty blocks. She walked that far some days. And on the treadmill, she ran as many as five or six miles. Piece of cake.

Anyway, she had a feeling Russ enjoyed forcing her out of her comfort zone. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d startled her.

Sydney opened her door, looked down at the red mud, grimaced and jumped down. Her feet sank into the soft earth and she was grateful for the hiking boots. Her suede, high-heeled shoes would have been instantly ruined.

It felt good to stretch her legs after the cramped confines of the truck. It was actually a pretty big truck, but it had felt cramped, given the two overwhelming presences she’d been forced to share it with. Just the thought of that beast lurking in the back made her break out in goose bumps. As for Russ-well, his presence was threatening in an altogether different way. Unfortunately, she didn’t feel like hiding from him; in fact, she’d had no trouble confiding highly personal information, especially strange for her given that she was usually slow to trust strangers.

She closed the door to the truck and stretched her arms up over her head, taking in a deep breath of country air. Lord, what she wouldn’t give to have this quality of air where she lived.

A sharp bark startled her and she whirled around. The dog was still safely confined in the back of the Bronco.

“He just wants to get out and explore,” Russ said from behind the truck. He opened the rear door.

Sydney shuddered and stepped to the other side of the road, where she wouldn’t have to look at the beast. While Nero explored, Russ turned his attention to hauling out a couple of backpacks.

“What do we need those for?”

“It’s always a good idea to be prepared when hiking into the wilderness.”

“Please don’t tell me the dog is going to hike with us.”

Russ sighed. “No, he’ll stay in the truck.”

Thank goodness for small favors. Sydney might actually enjoy a nature hike, but not if she had to worry about a dog putting his muddy paws all over her or slobbering on her clothes. Besides, dogs were genetically wolves. In the wild like this, wouldn’t it be easy for one to revert? And Nero was big, maybe bigger than a chow.

“He might like to come with us,” Russ continued, “but I don’t take him hiking anymore. Last time I did, he took off after a rabbit and didn’t come home for two days. When he finally showed up he was more dead than alive.”

The dog kept his nose to the ground, checking everything out, then came to the exact spot where Sydney had stood and sniffed the ground madly. Nero then followed her trail around the Bronco and stopped right in front of her, giving a sharp bark. Sydney cringed. The beast was hunting her. Why couldn’t Russ see that?

“Nero!” Russ called, and the dog went to his master’s voice. Russ loaded him back into the cargo area. He opened all the windows a few inches, then locked the dog inside.

With Nero taken care of, Russ shouldered his backpack with economical movements, then nodded toward Sydney’s. Determined to rise to whatever challenge he placed before her, she shrugged into the pack, then let Russ adjust the straps, aware of his strong, capable hands, brown from the sun even in winter. When he readjusted the collar of her blouse, his fingers brushed against bare skin and she shivered.

“Cold?”

“A little,” she fibbed. Actually, she was warm, verging on hot, thinking about the feel of those hands against her skin. Just move a little to the left…

The pack adjusted to his satisfaction, he stared at her an uncomfortably long time, as if sizing her up-or maybe guessing her lascivious thoughts. She hoped not. “Is it too heavy?” he finally asked.

She took a few steps, getting used to the weight. “I can handle it.”

Russ raised an appreciative eyebrow, but said nothing.

Sydney, who’d never hiked in the country or gone camping her whole life-and who’d never had a desire to do so-was actually looking forward to the hike now. She wanted to show him she wasn’t some pampered princess. Even if she didn’t like walking on dirt.

Russ led the way down the steep bank to the edge of the creek bed, offering a hand to help Sydney. She shook her head, then wished she hadn’t been so proud when she slid partway down on her butt. Thankfully, he didn’t see her lapse in grace. But her skirt was probably ruined.

They walked alongside the creek for a while, then crossed to the other side on a natural bridge formed by a tree trunk. This time, she didn’t hesitate to take the hand Russ offered. No way was she going to fall in a cold creek, even if it looked to be only a few inches deep.

The climb out of the creek bed was easier and from there they took a rough footpath through some scrubby trees. The path wasn’t difficult, and Sydney was able to fully enjoy her surroundings.

The scenery was breathtaking, with sheer limestone cliffs, pockets of heavy woods and open areas of barren rock. For most New Yorkers, her included, Texas evoked images of deserts. Cactus. Ranches and oil wells. She’d been to Austin a number of times to visit Aunt Carol, but she’d seldom ventured beyond the city limits before this trip. She never would have guessed she would encounter this kind of scenery.

The sounds of the wind in the trees, the chatter of birds, the crunch of dead leaves under her feet-they were all foreign yet intriguingly familiar to her. Surely she’d soon tire of a steady diet of this Daniel Boone stuff, but one afternoon wouldn’t hurt her.

They passed a waterfall that emptied into a deep, mysterious-looking pool and Sydney thought about how refreshing it would be to swim here on a hot summer day.

She wondered if Russ ever swam here. And if so, did he skinny-dip? Her face heated at the mental image taking shape and she shook her head to banish it before she became so distracted she smacked into a tree trunk.

As they topped a grassy rise and entered a meadow, Russ dropped back to walk next to her. “Tired?”

“No. I’m used to walking. At home, sometimes it’s faster than braving the traffic. Disappointed?”

He grinned. “You must really want to see those papers.”

She did. And yet she wasn’t all that optimistic about what she would find. Russ said he hadn’t gone through the boxes. For all anyone knew, they could be filled with old newspapers or recipes.

What was the real reason she’d been so eager to accompany Russ to his cabin? And why hadn’t she asked him more than a few superficial questions?

She knew the answer, she just hated to admit it. Russ had already told her his mother’s name was not Winifred. Didn’t that take him out of the running as the Oberlin heir? She should have returned to San Antonio and resumed her search. She had a few more Russell Kleins to go through.

But she wasn’t done with this Russell, not yet. She wasn’t done fantasizing about him. She hadn’t gotten her fill of his muscular body, his clear blue eyes and the way his mouth creased at the corners when he smiled, which wasn’t often enough. She hadn’t seen enough of the way he moved, so much a part of this wild environment, yet achingly human and all man.

They walked on in silence for a while. They’d been hiking for almost forty-five minutes when Sydney detected a sound, something new, something distinct from the pleasant din of the woods. She looked up into the trees and saw nothing out of the ordinary. She looked from side to side, still seeing nothing. Finally she glanced over her shoulder.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. The dog was loping along the trail behind her, panting happily.

“Russ? Excuse me, Russ?” she called out.

Russ stopped and turned. “Problem?” Then he spotted his dog. “Nero, what are you doing here?”

“Can your dog open car doors?” Sydney stood still as the dog sniffed her boots.

“He must have squeezed through one of the open windows.”

“If he gets those muddy paws on my skirt, I’m sending you the cleaning bill.”

“The skirt’s already ruined,” he pointed out. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

Darn it, he’d noticed her clumsy fall after all.

Russ pulled a piece of rope from his backpack. He tied one end of the rope to Nero’s collar and yanked him