Kent said after a while. “First hint of trouble and we leave.”
Garth and Kyle shared a conspiratorial look over Kent’s head.
“Fine.”
“Sure.” Garth picked up his carton of fries and started munching on them. Promises were made to be revised. He glanced at his watch. Half an hour to kill before he had to prod old Kent along.
The only thing around with any energy was Red Thunder. As its name implied, the river was never quiet. Unlike its meandering sisters, the Neches to the west and the Sabine to the east, Red Thunder ran straight and fast. And today, swollen by a week of rain, it seemed in a mighty hurry. Like him, Garth thought. He was in a hurry to get out of this one-stoplight town.
He had plans, big plans, and he’d set goals to reach them. Like a road on a map, he knew exactly where he was going and couldn’t wait to get started on his trip to the top. And his drive was as powerful as the river’s. Nothing was going to stop him.
Footsteps muffled by the thick padding of leaf litter drew nearer. A branch cracked. A pine bough swished. None of them stirred. The arrival was much too hesitant to belong to the forest ranger assigned to patrol the Woodhaven Preserve.
When the footsteps reached the clearing, Garth smiled. Well, well, look who’s here. He might have drawn a pat hand from a stacked deck after all. He plucked another fry from the carton he was holding and glanced over at Kyle, wondering how his friend would react.
Kyle tossed his burger to one side and shot up, then busied himself with picking up rocks along the riverbank.
Pine bough in hand, Ellen Paxton hesitated before walking into the clearing. Her blond hair hung in a long braid down her back. Garth had told her to let it hang loose. He liked the way the gold glinted in the light, and often fantasized about running his hands through the silken strands.
She hadn’t listened to his other advice, either. Her denim cutoffs were too short and her red T-shirt too tight. Not that the outfit looked bad on her. Watching her move, he was getting hotter by the second. She didn’t have much to fill the top, but those firm, long legs of hers could give any man a hard-on. Thing was that neither the short shorts nor the tight shirt were her nature, and she didn’t look comfortable playing the role of temptress she was striving for. Fresh innocence and loose, gauzy fabrics suited her more. He’d told her so.
Her gaze, with its anxious gray-green eyes, sought out Kyle, then swept quickly away to fixate on Kent. So that’s how she was going to play it. He’d told her to use him to win Kyle over again. She was doing this all wrong.
The empty fry container collapsed in his fist. One day, he’d get to her, if only to prove to himself he could.
She sank next to Kent, swiveled the straw from his drink in her direction and sipped. A kiss of red lipstick branded the white straw. She looked better in pink. He’d told her so.
Kyle’s jaw worked overtime as he pretended not to care.
“I saw your truck by the road and thought I’d stop and say hi.”
Garth smiled and leaned back against the hickory tree. Saw, my foot. He’d called her from the burger joint, and knowing there’d be fireworks, he’d told her their plans. He’d laid out a perfect step-by-step course of action for her. But had she listened? No. She was playing a game she couldn’t handle.
She should have listened to him.
But what the heck, this could still prove more entertaining than an evening drinking beer at Shannon Blake’s party. And he might still get what he wanted in the end.
“So what are y’all’s plans for the summer?” Ellen asked with a brightness that sounded exaggerated and an ease her tight muscles against Kent’s side denied.
Ellen was crazy in love with Kyle. That was plain to see on her face even though she was trying hard to ignore him. Kyle was gaga over Ellen, too, even though he was pretending she was nothing more than a weed at the moment. Garth had had to suffer through enough of Kyle’s fawning to know.
Kent started to get up, but she hung on to his arm. The straitlaced Makepeace didn’t want to let Ellen use him to get to Kyle, but he was also too accommodating to hurt a lady’s feelings, whether she deserved it or not.
“Kent’ll be a gatekeeper at the state park,” Kyle sneered. He hurled a pebble into the river. It splashed and was swallowed without even a ripple. “Safe. Solid. Dependable. Sound familiar?”
Yeah, that sounded like Kent all right. How he could find such dull work interesting was beyond Garth’s comprehension. “Better you than me. Sounds boring.”
“You got it wrong, Garth. He’ll be right in his element. Smokey the Bear will get to lecture everyone who makes the mistake of wanting a camping vacation.” Kyle tipped back his head and howled at his own joke.
“What’s wrong with wanting people to be safe?” Ellen asked with much more intensity than the comment deserved.
“They don’t want to be safe. They want to have fun.”
Ellen’s hold on Kent’s arm tightened. Her face was an indignant scrunch.
“Let it go,” Kent said between gritted teeth.
“I can’t.”
“That’s right, Kent. She can’t let go. She’ll cage even someone as stodgy as you in the end.” Without looking at Ellen, Kyle launched another missile into Red Thunder. The body English behind the motion told a story a mile long.
Garth licked the fry salt from his fingers. A mule facing a wall. He’d been right. Kyle wasn’t ready to kiss and make up yet.
“It’s not the job, Kyle,” she said.
“Then what is it?”
She blushed a deep shade of red. Her gaze darted from Kent to him. “Can’t we talk in private?”
“Hey, you’re the one who came barging in uninvited.”
Ah, there it was. Body language never lied. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner? So they’d done it and innocent little Ellen was a virgin no longer. Funny how Kyle hadn’t mentioned that bit of news. He was usually more than eager to brag about his conquests. What would the sheriff say if he knew his precious daughter was no longer pure? Garth filed away the tidbit.
So Ellen had finally given herself to Kyle and was having a hard time accepting her lover’s imminent departure to a ranch out in West Texas. Not that he blamed her. Kyle had a way of attracting trouble. If she weren’t around, she probably figured some of that trouble would be of the female persuasion. She’d more than likely be right. Kyle lived the cowboy image to the hilt—from hat to boots to horse—and the girls did swoon over his dark good looks when he was all dudded up and riding his flashy black horse. Those high cheekbones, those blacker than black eyes, that singular stamp of pride made a Makepeace stand out from a crowd and attracted women like flies to honey.
But if that’s all Ellen saw, she was missing the most important element. Once Kyle made something his, there was no taking it back—which was the only reason Garth hadn’t made a move on her himself. As pretty as she was, she wasn’t worth getting his eye blackened or his lip fattened because
