between her and Bram. What did it mean? She took a deep breath and shook her head. Never mind what it meant, she had no intention of getting involved with any man. And certainly not Bram Hunter.
After they reached the motel and had carried all their purchases into their room, Davis said, "I didn't want to say anything before in case Mr. Hunter might change his mind. But, Mom, you lied to him."
Vala nodded. "I know. I suppose I ought to be sorry. It was in a good cause, though."
"He'll find out real soon," Davis warned her.
"Maybe not. At least not right away. After all, what's so difficult about riding a horse?"
Davis rolled his eyes. "Whoa. I can't believe you said that. You don't even know how to get on a horse."
"So you'll teach me how before tomorrow. I'm a quick study."
"I can tell you how to mount a horse," he said, "but there's a lot more to it than that. "Mom, you're gonna be really, really sorry."
Chapter 2
The wariness in the kid's eyes had decided him, Bram thought as he tucked his denim shirt into his jeans in the early morning darkness. Though Davis, fair-haired and blue-eyed, didn't look anything like the young boy Bram had once been, he'd recognized a kindred spirit, a lonely, confused youngster on his way to becoming embittered.
Bram knew the feeling well and he meant to do his damnedest to make an adventure out of this trip into the Superstitions. Since talking with Vala and her son had convinced him that Davis was determined to believe in the fake deer skin map, he'd try to give the boy some excitement to make up for the disappointment that was bound to come when Davis discovered the old Apache's gift didn't point the way to a treasure lode.
Ndee, not Apache, Davis was right. Not that it made a hell of a lot of difference.
In any case, Bram wasn't giving up his long-planned trip to the Caribbean for Vala's sake. Not at all. It was for her son. No nine-year-old boy should have to feel rejected. Rejected. Bram gritted his teeth, reminded of what he'd long ago buried with the rest of his unhappy past.
Vala obviously loved her son but what she'd told him, combined with what he'd seen in Davis's eyes, had echoed in Bram's heart. He knew from his own experience that the love of a mother never quite made up for an absent, uncaring father.
If I was worth anything, he'd pay attention to me.
Did those words haunt Davis as they had young Bram?
I can't solve the problem, Bram told himself, but I can do my best to give Davis a slam-bang western adventure to take home with him.
As for Vala--well, what about her? He'd be lying if he didn't admit she still appealed to him. Or that what had happened years ago didn't still rankle. Gentlemen never stooped to getting even, he reminded himself--but then no one had ever accused him of being a gentleman. He half-smiled, contemplating the enforced togetherness of a camping trip with pleasurable anticipation.
All right, so he had more than one motive for agreeing to take mother and son into the mountains. So what? Both he and Vala were over thirty--God, where had the years gone--? And free of entanglements.
He finished pulling on his boots and strode to the kitchen to get his wake-me-up slug of coffee before driving the pickup to the Apache Junction motel to pick up his two happy campers. He'd already told them they'd have breakfast at the horse ranch.
His evaluation of Vala went up a notch when he found both her and her son ready to go. He had little patience with dawdlers. "Pancakes and sausage at Brenden's Bronco Corral," he told Davis.
Davis glanced at his mother before saying, "There's a whole lot of cholesterol in sausages."
"We'll work it off, I promise you," Bram assured him. "And while we're on the subject of food--" He paused to look at Vala before turning back to Davis--"everybody eats what the cook--that's me--packs in. The first complainer gets to take over the cooking."
Vala lifted her hands. "Hey, I'm on vacation. You won't hear any complaints from me."
"Me neither," Davis agreed, eyeing the pickup wistfully. "I found out in summer camp that cooking over a camp fire is hard."
"Want to ride with me?" Bram asked him.
"Okay, Mom?"
Vala nodded and Davis wasted no time climbing into the cab of the truck.
"You'll be following me on up the Apache Trail--that's Route