thousand years old. He couldn’t wait to show it to George.
“Hey!” Bree yelled from outside the bathroom. “You comin’ out, or are you gonna primp in there all day?”
He grinned. Kirk, primp? Sounded like something he’d say to Alicia.
A few minutes later, he walked around the back of the lodge to where Val was tethered to a pine tree. The animal had a cozy spot, hidden from prying eyes, between Bree’s lodge room and the back of the forest. Plus Val had plenty of grass and brush to munch on.
Bree was scratching Val’s head, which looked as big as Bree’s whole torso, while she talked to the animal.
“It’s gonna be okay, Hot Stuff. You ’n’ me, we’re gonna get back home today. Maybe I didn’t get to Europe, but that’ll come in time.” She rubbed the bull’s back. “After what you’ve been through, we need to get you home where you can eat all the oats and grass you want in Mr. Connors’s field. Meanwhile, I’ll contact Bovine Best, clear up any confusion over the ’implied contract’ fracas, see if they’re still interested in purchasing you…” She sniffed.
Bree, crying?
Kirk stood, unsure what to do. Should he leave? Let her spend a few moments alone with her animal?
But just as he half turned to go, Bree said sweetly, “Mornin’.”
He turned back. “Good morning.” He observed how the sunlight played tricks with her hair, highlighting strands of gold and maroon in those rich brown curls. Just like Bree, he thought, seeming so solid and strong on the outside, yet inside, harboring such sweet, tender secrets.
“Val, lookee who’s visiting. Our hero, Kirk,” she said in that velvety tone that twisted Kirk’s heart. “Remember how he picked us up last night? Thanks to him, you had this safe, comfortable spot to sleep…and I had a safe, comfortable bed. Come on, let’s say ‘thank you’ to this nice man.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right,” Kirk said, holding up both hands.
But Bree just giggled, a fun, girlish sound that sent a crazy thrill zigzagging through him. “Come on,” she coaxed, “let Val thank you.” She crooked her finger at Kirk in a come-here gesture, those dimples in her cheeks turning him to putty.
He stepped forward, ready to do her bidding.
“Scratch him here,” Bree said softly, taking Kirk’s hand and placing it on a section of coarse fur between Val’s horns.
Kirk tried to concentrate on the scratching, but he was far more aware of the warmth and softness of Bree’s hands. And her fingers. So long, they didn’t just interlace with his fingers, they coiled around them. Even better, he liked how their fingers moved in tandem. So natural, as though they’d done this a hundred times before.
For the next few minutes, he and Bree stood side by side, scratching and stroking Val’s head. Feeling and stroking each other’s hands, accidentally of course.
After a few minutes of bull-loving, Kirk turned to Bree. “I told Alicia I’d call her this morning, let her know when I expected to be in—”
“She must be worried about you, running out of gas ’n’ all.”
“Actually, Alicia doesn’t worry about things like that.” She worried if Kirk would be late. Or not dressed properly. Or had lost his way.
Bree looked at Kirk, her eyes filled with something he couldn’t decipher.
He meant to turn and go, but he wanted a few more moments to see what sunlight did to Bree’s hair, how her skin glowed in the fresh air, the way her lips curved when she spoke. And if he was lucky, maybe he’d get another flash of those killer dimples.
They stood so close, he could almost sense her heat, almost hear her beating heart. And he ached to know how it would feel to take her into his arms, hold her close, mold her body to his…
Something nudged him from behind.
He looked over his shoulder at Val’s massive head, rubbing against his back.
“He likes you,” said Bree.
“Maybe he does, but I’m worried about those horns of his…”
Bree giggled. “Trust me. He wouldn’t hurt you with those. He’s just nudging you with his nose, checking you out.”
“Gotta call Alicia,” Kirk said quickly, backing off. He didn’t mind scratching a bull, but being nudged by one was a far different matter. Even Tarl Cabot would agree, Kirk was sure of it.
A few minutes later, Bree walked back into her room to find Kirk on the phone. It occurred to her he could have used the phone in his room, but no big deal. Nobody in Chugwater locked their doors, so people were always coming in and out of each other’s houses…finding Kirk here was almost like being home.
And for a moment, she missed being home. Home, the very place she swore she was so anxious to escape. How many times had she said she wanted to split Chugwater and see the big world? Yet sometimes…at crazy moments like this…she couldn’t help but wonder again if fulfilling one’s dreams was worth losing one’s roots.
“Yes, dear, I’ll call you from the gas station so you’ll know when I’m leaving,” Kirk said. “No, I won’t be late.”
Wow. Does his fiancée always need to know his every move? Maybe most married people were like that. Just another reason why Bree had zero desire to settle down. She wanted the free life, no constraints, not having to answer to anyone.
“What?” Kirk suddenly said, straightening. “Oh, no.” He dropped his head in his hand. “Poor Robbie. What happened?” Pause. “Broke his what?” Pause. “That’s called a femur, not a female bone. Alicia, stop fretting. So my best man is holed up in an L.A. hospital and can’t make the wedding. Worse things in the world have happened. What’s important is that Robbie is okay.” He looked up at Bree. “Look, I need to go.” Pause. “Me, too. Yes, dear.” He hung up.
“Sorry to hear about your best man,” said Bree.
“Broke his leg doing some fool stunt at a Raiders game.” Kirk looked at Bree. “Thanks for your good wishes. I suppose Alicia feels bad about Robbie’s health, too, but she’s more concerned with the wedding plans…” His voice trailed off.
“Well,” said Bree, trying to alleviate the gloom that had suddenly settled over the room. “It’s almost nine. If we get gas now, we can get to Denver by ten or eleven, then you said your friend George can help Val and me get to Chugwater—which means we’ll be out of your hair and you can proceed to do all that fun getting-married stuff!”
Kirk stood, giving her a look that seemed almost sad.
“No need to check if the coast is clear,” he finally said. “Even if someone sees us walking a bull, they’ll just think they’re having a sixties flashback.”
“But it’s the twenty-first century.”
“Not in Nederland. Here, the sixties live eternal. Let me get my keys…”
He pulled
