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A Land Called Deseret Page 4
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"How is the calf?" She sought his attention because it was something she sensed the other female members would like to have. "Did it live?" She remembered how pathetically weak it had been.
His bland gaze swung to her, running over the made-up perfection of her face. "Yes, it lived," he answered, and looked straight ahead. "It's blind in one eye, but it's getting around all right."
"If it's blind, you won't turn it loose, will you?" The thought of the helpless calf wandering about the wasteland that surrounded them made LaRaine frown.
Again his gaze inspected her face, amused yet curious at her response. "The calf lost the sight in only one eye. He'll make out all right," he assured her.
"That's heartless!" LaRaine declared in a tautly controlled voice.
Sam had been listening in on the conversation. "Coming from you, LaRaine, that's rich," he laughed.
"Nobody asked your opinion, Sam." She shot him an angry look, the insult stinging because it had been made in front of Travis. She didn't understand why that mattered. Hadn't she decided she wasn't interested in him?
Sam directed their path to where a couple of members of his staff were seated, and LaRaine stood to one side as he introduced Travis. She noticed how at ease Travis seemed in surroundings that must be strange to him. As far as she could tell, he wasn't in awe of those around him. She remembered when he'd met her, how indifferent he'd been to her supposedly glamorous profession. In some ways, it was a consolation to discover that he treated the others the same way he had treated her.
The bay horse stomped at a fly buzzing around its hocks, its head bobbing down to its knee to brush it off with its nose. The sleek, mahogany hide shivered to chase away the flying pests. LaRaine admired again its conformation and the rippling muscles in its chest and hindquarters.
"What's the matter, feller?" she murmured, and stroked her hand along its neck and withers. "Are the flies bothering you, mmm?"
Its head turned to rub its forelock against her shoulder. Smiling at the action, she took a step away to scratch the spot on its forehead. The horse inhaled her scent and blew softly through its nose.
"You like that, do you?" LaRaine crooned. "You're a big, beautiful brute. Do you know that?"
The horse bobbed its head, but it was to chase away another fly and not a response to her low question. LaRaine chose to pretend that it was, playing a childish game in her mind.
"Aren't you worried that he might hurt you, Miss Evans?" The question from Travis made her suddenly aware that he was watching her. "He outweighs you by several hundred pounds."
"No, I'm not worried." It was easier for LaRaine to keep looking at the horse than to glance at Travis. "I like horses. What's his name?"
"Dallas."
"Is that where you're from? Dallas, Texas?" This time she did look at him, her glance curious, but when she met his gaze, a crazy sensation raced through her nerve ends, a tingling awareness of his rugged virility.
"No, I bought him, from a Mormon rancher. He named him, I didn't," Travis answered.
"He's a beautiful animal. I'd like to ride him sometime." LaRaine wasn't angling for an invitation when she said it, but she realized afterward that it probably sounded as if she was.
"Sorry, he's a working horse, not a pleasure mount." Travis turned her down gently but nonetheless firmly.
"Which means you think he's more horse than I can handle," she concluded. "I'm not a novice. All the same, I understand your unwillingness to let just anybody ride him. If he were mine, I wouldn't, either."
"I'm glad you understand my reasons," he said.
Sam interrupted their conversation to include Travis in a discussion he was having with one of the staff. LaRaine continued to stroke the bay horse absently while covertly watching Travis. She became fascinated with the powerful line of his profile, strong and bold. His skin was stretched tautly over his bones like a tanned hide, and was almost the same color.
The smoothness of his sun-hardened features was marred only by crinkling lines around his eyes and the grooves running from nose to mouth. In an actor, LaRaine would have suspected the silver streaks in Travis's hair just above his ears had been professionally dyed. But there seemed nothing artificial or fake about this man who was all man.
As she studied him, she noticed his gaze narrow. He seemed to be looking beyond the small circle of men, and she glanced around to see what had attracted his attention. Susan Winters had just walked by, but other than that, everything looked the same as it had only minutes ago.
LaRaine looked back at Travis and realized his gaze was following Susan. His expression changed from piercing scrutiny to frowning disbelief and then wary recognition, one right after the other. LaRaine glanced at Susan. Did Travis know her? How?
In the next second Travis was walking past her, his long strides taking him after Susan. His abrupt departure from Sam and his group left them in stunned silence. Like LaRaine, they stared after him, puzzled and surprised.
"Natalie?" Travis called out the name in a questioning voice. As he drew closer to Susan, he repeated it with more certainty. "Natalie!"
LaRaine realized he was referring to Susan by that name, but Susan continued to walk on, unaware that anyone was trying to get her attention. She yelped in surprise when Travis caught up with her and grabbed her arm to turn her around to face him.
"Natalie, I—"
"What are you doing?" Susan struggled against the grip he had on her shoulders and tipped her head to look up at him, her honey-brown hair swinging away from her face.
Travis didn't complete the sentence he had started. LaRaine could almost see the poised stillness come over him. It lasted only as long as it took him to examine Susan's face. Abruptly he released her and took a step away. His features hardened into granite to control his expression so it wouldn't reveal what he was thinking or feeling. "Sorry," he apologized curtly. "I thought you were someone else."
"You're sorry? You scared me to death!" Susan laughed, a trifle breathlessly, but she was talking to air.
Travis had already pivoted away and was striding back to where LaRaine stood beside his horse. Silence dominated Sam and his group. His rock-hard expression kept anyone from joking about his mistake. It also kept them from saying anything.
The reins had been left to drag on the ground. When Travis reached the group, he scooped the dangling reins up in his gloved hand. LaRaine's fingers curved inside the cheek strap of the bridle, instinctively holding the bay horse.
Travis's gaze swung to the group, specifically to Sam. "I have to get back to work. Let me know if you decide you want to use my cattle."
"Sure thing, Travis." Sam was plainly intimidated.
Travis didn't wait for the response as he looped the reins over the bay's head and slipped a toe into the stirrup to swing into the saddle. LaRaine still had a hold of the bridle. She checked his attempt to rein the horse away from the group. She wasn't intimidated. Her curiosity was too thoroughly aroused to let it go unsatisfied. His hooded gaze slid to her.
"Who did you think Susan was?" she demanded.
"Susan?" There was initial blankness before he realized she was referring to the girl he had thought was someone named Natalie. His mouth thinned. "Isn't it obvious?" His question was almost a jeer. "I thought she was someone else," he snapped.
This time he touched a spur to the bay's ribs. The horse jumped out of LaRaine's hold, spinning around on its hindquarters. It took one bounding leap forward before its rider checked its speed to a running walk.
LaRaine watched him go, his back ramrod straight. As he rode off the set, a murmur of voices began to swell. Everyone who had witnessed the scene was talking about it. Travis's answer hadn't satisfied LaRaine, it only whetted her already aroused curiosity. She resolved to find out what it was all about some day, and to find out who this Natalie person was.
When Susan came up to her, LaRaine was still watching the horse and rider growing steadily smaller. She barely glanced at Susan. Her interest was completely cap
tured by the departing figure.
"Who was he?" Susan questioned. "Don't tell me he's the man who owns this ranch?"
"Yes, he is," LaRaine admitted. As he disappeared from sight, her preoccupied gaze swung to Susan.
"No wonder you kept your opinion about him such a deep, dark secret," Susan commented. "What's his name?"
There was no reason to withhold the information. Susan could find it out from someone else easily enough. It took a couple of seconds for LaRaine to get his name out.
"Travis McCrea."
"Travis." Susan repeated the name as if testing the sound of it. "I wonder who he thought I was."
"Somebody else, obviously." LaRaine used his answer, her voice as dry and biting as his had been.
"Yes, but I wonder who?" Susan repeated the question, her expression thoughtful.
"Maybe you looked like his sister." She was suddenly impatient with the questions, the very same questions that were running through her own mind.
"No, not his sister," Susan replied with certainty. "The way he was looking at me before he discovered I wasn't this Natalie would have melted any woman's bones. Whoever Natalie is, she isn't his sister."
"So? Maybe she's an old girl friend." LaRaine shrugged as if this Natalie's relationship to Travis was of no interest to her, when in actuality she was consumed by it.
"I'll tell you one thing—I wish I had been Natalie," Susan declared.
"You aren't, so what's the sense in going on about it?" LaRaine retorted.
"Because that Travis McCrea is one hunk of a man. I thought you had the inside track on him." The brown-haired girl measured LaRaine with a look. "But I don't think you do. I think I have a better chance with him than you do."
"Why? Just because you look like someone he might have once been in love with?" LaRaine challenged with a brash air of unconcern. Inwardly, she was afraid that Susan was right.
"Sure. Why not?" Susan reasoned. "It's certain I have his attention. I think I'll invite him to the party we're having next weekend. I'll bet he accepts."
"You're too late. I've already invited him," LaRaine lied.
"You have?" Susan frowned, her disappointment showing. "Is he coming?"
"What do you think?" she retorted, making it deliberately sound positive before she turned to walk away.
Susan caught her arm. "Is he really coming with you?" she demanded.
"If you don't believe me, ask him yourself the next time you see him." LaRaine returned the girl's skeptical look with one of cool reproof.
"You always have to go after every new man that comes along, don't you, LaRaine? " Susan accused.
"That's certainly the pot calling the kettle black," LaRaine mocked. "You've just admitted that you're going to chase him."
"There's a big difference between you and me. I want to go out with Travis McCrea because I like him, but you want to see what you can get out of him. Do you think maybe he has some influence somewhere and may be able to get you a part in some movie? It's certain you won't be able to trick Sam again."
"Has Sam been crying on your shoulder?" LaRaine pretended that the remark hadn't hurt.
"He's talked to me about you, yes," Susan admitted.
"Then I hope he told you that I never asked him to get me this job," she retorted.
"Maybe not, but you gave him the impression that you wanted it so the two of you wouldn't be separated."
"That might have been in his mind, but it wasn't in mine," LaRaine denied the accusation.
"I'm sure it wasn't." Sarcasm inched into Susan's voice. "What's in your mind regarding Travis McCrea?"
"Maybe I just want to keep in practice until something better comes along," LaRaine offered as her possible reason.
Anger reddened the other girl's face. "If he's stupid enough to be taken in by you, I don't want him." Susan turned on her heel and stalked away.
LaRaine's gaze followed her. People were so easily maneuvered sometimes, she thought. With just a few well-chosen words, she had eliminated her competition. Susan had gone from wanting to invite Travis to a party to throwing him in LaRaine's lap.
Why had she claimed that Travis was going to the party with her? LaRaine sighed. Had it been because she saw someone else wanted him? Sometimes she didn't understand her motives, if she had any. Even now she didn't understand why she was doing all this soul-searching over her actions.
Either way, she had committed herself to persuading Travis McCrea to go to the party with her next week. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. He might not be husband material, but neither was anyone else around here. However, he would certainly be a diversion. LaRaine decided that she had been taking her life a little too seriously. Maybe it was time she had some fun.
Travis McCrea could be quite a challenge. Again, she wondered who Natalie was. From what Susan had said, it must have been someone he cared about a great deal. Obviously he still did, if his reaction when he had mistaken Susan for her was anything to go by.
If he were still in love with her, then he wouldn't want to become serious. LaRaine shied away from possessive men who didn't have anything to offer in the long run. Sam Hardesty had become very tiresome with his broken heart permanently on display.
Maybe she could establish some kind of casual relationship with Travis McCrea. Until this moment she hadn't considered going to the party next week. Her mother had schooled it into her head that she should never go to any party without a date. But if she could persuade Travis to go with her, LaRaine suspected she would be the envy of every girl there, if today's reaction to him were repeated.
Just for a minute, LaRaine let her spirits droop. What difference did it make if they envied her? None of them liked her. If she fell on her face, they would all cheer and congratulate the one who knocked her down.
Why was she suddenly wishing it weren't that way? LaRaine breathed in deeply and released a long sigh.
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Chapter Four
TWO NIGHTS in a row, LaRaine had attempted to contact Travis by telephone to invite him to the party the following week. The phone rang and rang, but no one answered. LaRaine decided that if she couldn't reach him by telephone she would have to find another way.
Her name wasn't on the day's shooting schedule. Skirting the film set, she walked to the horse vans where the actors' horses were kept in readiness. The remuda boss was sitting on a bale of hay in the shade of one of the vans.
"Hi, Don." She was wearing the same split riding skirt and blouse that she had worn the first time she had met Travis. "Is anybody using the palomino today?"
He tipped his hat back and looked up at her. "Nope."
"Good. I thought I'd take him out for a ride. The palomino needs the exercise almost as much as I do," LaRaine said.
"You know I'm not supposed to let anyone take these horses out," Don reminded her, his cheek bulging with a wad of tobacco.
"I know the whole insurance routine," she nodded. "I promise I won't sue the company if I get hurt. If a horse throws me, it's probably my fault anyway. So what do you say, Don? Will you let me ride the palomino?" A flat-crowned hat, protection against the sun while she was riding, dangled down her back.
"If it were anyone else but you asking, I'd turn them down," he said, and turned his head to spit out a stream of tobacco juice. The remuda boss was a former stunt man; his career ended when an accident crippled his leg.
"Don't tell me that you trust me, Don?" LaRaine laughed. "That makes you a minority of one around here."
He smiled briefly at that and pushed himself to his feet.
"I don't know as how I'd trust you with my money, but I do trust you with my horses."
"I don't understand your logic. But as long as you're going to let me ride the palomino, I don't care whether or not it makes any sense," she declared.
"You wait here and I'll bring him," Don ordered, and limped away.
Fifteen minutes later, LaRaine was astride the palomino and riding off in the direc
tion of the ranchyard two miles away. The horse was spirited and eager to cover ground, but responsive to its rider's commands.
Picking up the rutted trail, LaRaine followed it to the ranchyard, cantering the horse where the terrain was relatively smooth and slowing it down to a walk or trot where it was rougher. She doubted that she would be lucky enough to find Travis at the house.
The place looked deserted when she rode in. She walked the palomino to the house, dismounted and tied the reins around a porch post. She knocked at the door, but there wasn't any answer.
Leaving the palomino tied, she walked to the barn. The wide double doors stood open, sunlight invading part of the darkened interior. As she entered, her boots made a rustling sound on the straw-covered floor. From one of the stalls, a calf bawled. LaRaine followed the sound to a stall closed in with a gate.
It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. Then she saw the red calf curled up in the straw. Its white face turned to her, scarred with purple medication spotting its white hair. She glimpsed its gnarled eye, but the calf still looked considerably better than it had the last time she had seen it. It made a low, bleating sound at the sight of her.
"At least he hasn't turned you loose yet, little feller." Her mouth quirked in the semblance of a smile. "Where did he go? Do you know?"
The calf continued to stare at her. Sighing, LaRaine turned away from the barn and walked back into the sunlight of the outside. She slipped her hat off, letting it hang down her back, held by the rawhide thong around her throat. She wondered where Travis might be.
Trying to find him in this desolate country without knowing where to look would be ridiculous. It would be too easy to get lost. It all looked alike to LaRaine—sage and grass-covered land bounded by juniper-studded mountains with a multitude of canyons and sweeping valleys. LaRaine paused, shading her eyes with her hand. There didn't seem to be a sign of life anywhere. She walked to where the palomino stood and untied the reins. Mounting, she turned it away from the house and hesitated. Maybe if she made a sweeping arc around the ranchyard, while staying within sight of it, she might catch a glimpse of Travis. It was worth a try, she decided.