Jeffrey carried the scrapbook to the sofa and sat by Blair to open it. She couldn’t resist looking over her nephew’s shoulder as he turned the pages. The scrapbook was stuffed with photographs and newspaper clippings...and they all seemed to feature Scott doing something daring and adventurous.
She studied a picture of him riding a huge, angry-looking bull. Scott’s left arm was thrown high in the air for balance, his right hand locked beneath a thick rope on the bull’s neck. His hat had just flown off his head, and there was a look of reckless determination on his face. Her stomach muscles tightened. Funny. She hadn’t realized until now that a man could actually look sexy while straddling a bull.
Another snapshot had been taken high above the ground. Scott had been captured in a spread-eagled free fall, his parachute unopened on the back of his colorful jumpsuit. He was grinning broadly at the camera, which was obviously being operated by another jumper. There were photos of Scott racing cars, motorcycles and speedboats, dangling from a harness as he rappelled down a sheer rock face, navigating a kayak through churning white water, doing a full body flip on a snowboard, even hanging upside down from the end of a bungee cord.
“Wow,” Jeffrey breathed, looking at yet another image of a daredevil stunt. “Is there anything you haven’t done?”
“There are quite a few things still on my list,” Scott commented, lounging in a nearby chair and looking as if the pages they were examining held nothing out of the ordinary.
The awed admiration on Jeffrey’s face as he gazed at Scott made Blair uncomfortable. While she could understand his fascination with Scott’s adventures—after all, she felt the same way—this was not the sort of role model she’d had in mind. Jeffrey’s father had already set an example of footloose, irresponsible behavior; she didn’t need Scott reinforcing the notion that life consisted of nothing more than a series of reckless adventures. Despite her own occasional longings for some of the adventures others indulged in, she had learned as a teenager that there had to be more to life than self-indulgence.
She reached over to close the scrapbook. “Why don’t you put this away, Jeffrey? Scott,
tell us about your ranch. It’s quite big, I imagine.”
“It’s a sizable spread,” he agreed in a lazy drawl.
“I’m sure it takes a lot of attention and commitment to keep it running profitably. You studied business in college?”
“I studied girls in college. When I found out they wouldn’t give me a degree for that, I had to pick something else.”
Blair looked hastily at her watch as her nephew laughed. “Well, it’s getting late, Jeffrey. I’m sure Scott has a big day planned for us tomorrow. Why don’t you go brush your teeth and get ready for bed now?”
“Oh, man...”
Scott stretched. “Your aunt’s right, partner. I’ve got a lot of big plans for tomorrow. I think I’ll turn in early myself.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Blair stood, thinking she could use a little time to herself to contemplate the day’s events. She picked up the book she’d been reading earlier, thinking she would read in bed for a while until she was sleepy.
“Sure you want to read that before you go to sleep?” Scott murmured as Jeffrey plodded toward the bathroom. “Might give you nightmares.”
“I never have nightmares,” she replied.
Something odd crossed Scott’s face. “Consider yourself fortunate,” he mumbled.
Before she could decide what he meant by that, he was grinning again. “If you should happen to have a bad dream, just give a yell. I’m sure I can think of something to take your mind off it.”
Something in his tone made her face flame. She cleared her throat and turned to speak to her nephew as he stepped out of the bathroom. “Good night, Jeffrey. Let me know if you need anything.”
He nodded. “Night, Aunt Blair.”
She didn’t kiss him good-night. She never had, though there were times when she ached to do so. But since she’d never been quite sure how he would react, and he’d never given any indication that he wanted her to kiss him, she’d always held back.
Blair glanced at Scott on her way to the staircase. “Good night, Scott.”
She couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. “Sleep well, Blair.”
*
BLAIR HAD NEVER slept well in strange surroundings. The loft bed was quite comfortable, but the night sounds were different from what she was accustomed to. She dozed on and off, spending the time she was awake staring at the stars through the skylight above the bed, alternating between wondering what she was doing there and hoping the gamble would pay off.
The sun was just rising when she abandoned all attempts at sleep. She ran a brush through her hair and pulled thick socks over her bare feet, deciding her cotton pajamas were decent enough covering for breakfast. The cabin was very quiet when she padded downstairs, and both bedroom doors were closed. Apparently, she was the only early riser this morning.
Taking care to be quiet, she made a pot of coffee and gazed out the kitchen window while it brewed. What she saw outside was so appealing that she carried her coffee to the small deck attached to the back of the cabin. Huddling against the morning chill, she settled in an Adirondack chair and sipped her hot coffee, watching nature waking up around her as the sun crept a bit higher in the pinky-purply morning sky.
She could get used to this, she thought with a contented sigh, already aware that the ever-present tension in her neck and shoulders was slowly easing.
The kitchen door opened behind her, and a sleep-gruff male voice greeted her. “Good morning. Are you always such an early bird?”