on the trail, the rugged terrain again took a toll on the horses. Often she had to dismount and lead Ranger around barriers. The higher they went, the more she gloried in the various trees along the way, especially the beautiful spruce. And she thought no Parisian perfume could surpass the fragrance of the pines. It was as if inch by inch, foot by foot, mile by mile, she was being exposed to a wonderland of sights and sensations. Even though her lungs ached and her muscles protested, she pushed on, eager to arrive at her destination.
At one point when the trail leveled out a bit, Lockwood rode alongside her. “Has anyone told you about the travelers and tourists?”
“I know that in summertime the population of the valley grows. Hikers, fishermen, mountain climbers, those who seek the altitude for health reasons.”
“Yes, and although there is a hotel or two, they don’t all stay there. Care to venture a guess about where else they find lodging?”
“In private homes?”
“Exactly. Most travelers are harmless, but some might enjoy, er, finding shelter with a lone woman.”
“Are you trying to frighten me, Mr. Lockwood?”
He looked over at her, eyebrows raised in question. “Am I succeeding?”
She stared forward, resolute. “I’m by no means defenseless, sir. I have brought along weapons, primarily for hunting, but if necessary, I can hold my own against someone threatening my life.” She glanced over at him, reading skepticism in his expression. “I am an accomplished and accurate markswoman.” Then with gleeful malice, she added, “Would you care to test that boast?”
“No, ma’am. But then, I’m not the type of man to be in such a position.” An edge came into his voice. “I’m simply trying to educate you.”
“Protect me, more like,” she snapped before he shook his head sadly and trotted off. Great! She’d done it again—assaulted his pride in the effort to prove her independence. Yet deep down, if she was honest with herself, she knew she would undoubtedly need Tate Lockwood in some future capacity. Where else would she have to turn? It was ticklish business when he so clearly wanted nothing more than to deposit her at her cabin and be rid of her.
* * *
If he lived to be a hundred, Tate knew he would never forget the look on Sophie Montgomery’s face when they came up out of the canyon and reached the point where the entire Estes Valley spread out in front of them, rimmed by the timeless snowcapped peaks. Her gasp was audible, and her cheeks flushed with excitement. He turned in his saddle to study her more carefully as she took in the spectacle before her. It was as if he were in communion with her, experiencing the splendor of the mountains for the first time. For long moments she didn’t speak, and the silence of the space below them seemed almost sacred. That is, if he believed anything at all could be sacred.
Finally, with eyes awash with emotion, she looked at him. “I had no idea,” she whispered breathlessly. “The beauty and scope are beyond description. Books and illustrations can’t begin to do this scenery justice.”
He took off his hat and scanned the horizon. “It’s impressive, all right. No place on earth is quite like it.”
“Which is Longs Peak?”
He pointed toward the southwest. “There.”
“The front of it looks as if some giant hand took a meat cleaver and sliced the mountain in two.”
“That’s the famous east face. The drop from the top of it into the lake below is hundreds of feet.”
She fixed her gaze on the famous peak. “I’m going to climb it one day.”
Was there no stopping this woman? For all her slight size, she made up for it in sheer nerve. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
“You wouldn’t, Mr. Lockwood, but I do count on it. It’s merely a matter of time.”
“Hardly any women have been successful.”
“May I remind you once again that I am not ‘any woman’? Ask my brothers if you don’t believe me.”
Once more, he took in the majesty of the peaks, the miles and miles of high meadow, with streams etching silver ribbons across the surface, and felt the tug of home. “Begging your pardon, but I can’t dawdle here gawking all day.”
“Just one more moment, please. It will never again be the first time I take in this scene.”
He had to give her that—at least she recognized the power and uniqueness in the place. He wondered if Estes Park would grip her the same way it had him. As they rode on, no words passed between them, yet he had the disturbing sense that Sophie Montgomery had gotten under his skin as no woman had in a great long time. Against his better judgment, he found himself admiring her determination while at the same time finding her maddeningly independent, even reckless. The contrast to Ramona couldn’t have been more startling.
Finally she broke the silence. “I shall look forward to meeting your wife and children, Mr. Lockwood.”
“I have no wife. Only my two boys.”
She turned to him, eyes wide with pity, and her face reddened with embarrassment. “I’m sorry...I...uh, had no idea. Effie didn’t mention... Oh dear, please accept my condolences.”
“The Hurlburts, always discreet, probably didn’t regard it as their place to convey my personal information.” In that moment, he had an irrational urge to shock her. Bitterness churned in the back of his throat as he said, “My wife, excuse me, my former wife, saw fit not only to abandon me but our two children, as well.”
He had succeeded. Bald shock registered on her face. “Dear me, I fear I have stumbled into your private concerns.”
“You would find out sooner or later. She returned to the East. We are divorced.”
“But...the boys?”
“She prefers to have nothing to do with them. Frankly, that makes it easier for all three of us.” Easier emotionally, he thought to himself, but difficult in the day-to-day reality.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know quite what to say.”
“That must be a first for you.” He watched her face crumple and swore at himself for his insensitivity. “Now I’m the one to offer an apology. That was uncalled for. I would take the remark back if I could, Miss Montgomery.”
“Words have a life of their own, don’t they? Sometimes they just slip out when they should stay put. And you aren’t the first to accuse me of garrulousness.” She smiled ruefully, and he could breathe again.
“Nor will I be the last, I suspect,” he said with a forced chuckle.
Then she laughed gaily and relief flooded through him. “Do you know what I think? I have had quite enough of this Miss Montgomery and Mr. Lockwood business. You are my only friend in all of Estes Valley, and I would like you to call me Sophie.” She paused. “And might I call you Tate?”
His first thought was that this informality moved them into an intimacy he wasn’t sure he was
