"You've been busy, I see," she managed in a tone tight with agitation. How had he known about Chumash Mountain?
He injected his reply with accusation. "I had to make up for all the berries that fell out of my sack and somehow got lost."
Isabel feigned an air of innocence. "How did you get up here ahead of me? I saw you at the Republic three hours ago."
The lopsided grin he gave her would have been bone-melting if it had come from anyone but him. "I have a horse. He's tethered up there." He tilted his head toward his left.
"I didn't think you owned anything."
His mouth fell in a grim line. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
Scanning the bushes to see if he'd left her any berries, Isabel vaguely commented, "You aren't ambitious. You spend more time in that bar than any other place." Her eyes landed back on him. "And you dress like a tramp."
John gave himself a cursory inspection.
He wore denim pants so thin in the knees the indigo had faded to pale blue. His shirt had been rolled up at the sleeves, the thread for the hem missing.
"I like comfort."
"You like liquor and loafing," she muttered beneath her breath, the breeze snatching her words.
"What was that?"
"I'm not going to stand here loafing." ;
Isabel went past him and inspected the bushes. Very few berries were left. Either others had been here earlier, or John had shucked them naked. Since she'd come all this way, she began to pick what little there was.
Every once in a while, she checked to see if John still reclined on the boulder. He did. And she felt he dissected her every move. It was unsettling. Why didn't he just leave?
When she'd finished, she quenched her thirst with a long drink of lemonade. As she lowered the canteen, she noted John's gaze lowering as well. It was affixed to the canteen. She walked toward him. "Did you forget to bring provisions again?"
"I left in a hurry."
Inhaling and straightening the kink from her spine, she bit her lower lip in contemplation. Then she slowly extended her arm. "Here."
"Obliged."
John took the canteen and drank. When he lifted his chin, she noticed for the first time that his eyes were gray-blue, like campfire smoke in twilight. Eyelashes the same tawny brown as his hair framed his eyes.
Just as she was admiring his handsome face and admonishing herself for doing so, his mouth soured. "What is :this?" He grimaced so visibly, she grew offended.
"Lemonade."
"I was expecting water." He handed the canteen back.
"Next time, don't expect anything."
He rose to his feet, towering over her with his inordinate height He looked down into her face, and she was helpless to turn away. There was something about him that just naturally pulled her toward him, an invisible magnetism that exuded more masculinity than a traveling rodeo's paste-up poster. "I apologize, Miss Isabel."
She hadn't expected that from him. To her dismay, the heat of a blush stole onto her cheeks. Anxious to escape from his arresting presence, she snatched her hamper and began walking down the hill but dreaded every step of the walk in this unrelenting heat
She'd barely gotten past the bend when the methodic clop of hooves sounded behind her. John and his horse fell in sync with her steps.
"Damn hot afternoon," he commented, pushing his hat back with his thumb. "One wouldn't think Christmas was coming."
Isabel held her tongue and kept on walking.
"Saw a lot of folks in town with baskets and the like going after the berries."
She kept silent.
"They're wasting their time. I'm going to win."
Minding her footing, her eyes remained on the trail.
"Probably buy me a plot of land and drill for oil. Calco isn't the only outfit in town who can get rich off petroleum."
The horse nickered.
"You aim to walk all the way back or are you going to let me give you a ride?" "I didn't know you were offering."
"I was hoping you'd take the hint when I was talking."
"I didn't know talking meant offering."
"It does." He steered around a manzanita, then back next to her once more. "So are you?"
Isabel thought of the time it would take her to return to her cabin--precious too much of it. The sun would be going down in another two hours. If she got home ahead of it, she could water her trees. However much she didn't want to be beholden to John, she had to think of her future business.
Slowing to a stop, she nodded.
John reined the horse to a halt, then held out his palm. Grasping it, she gave a slight hop as he propelled her upward in front of him into the saddle. She landed with a small cry as he tucked her in tight, both her legs dangling off to one side.
His thighs were hard as steel against her bottom. She clutched her basket to her breasts as an unconscious defense against the tension winding through her. As much as she wanted to deny it, he was all man.
As he nudged the horse forward, she tensed with the swaying jolt and would have grabbed the horn had she a free hand. Instead, John's arm came around her midriff to steady her. The mere touch of his hand sent warm shivers through her.
They rode the way back without speaking, Isabel sitting rigid and making her joints ache. Once they came to her porch, she slipped out of the saddle so fast he didn't have the chance to give her aid.
"Well... thanks," she said climbing her rickety steps to put as much distance in between them as she could. She still clutched her wicker hamper as if it were a shield against him.
"I'll say it was my pleasure and that I hope our paths never cross again."