Run to Me

by Lauren Nichols

  “Does Sally have a computer?” Mac asked as he and Shane walked to his Cherokee.

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “How about an Internet server?”

  “Again, doesn’t everyone?” Shane climbed into the passenger side, snapped his seat belt, then knocked the seat back and closed his eyes. “Sally lives and breathes for the World Wide Web. I wouldn’t say she’s a geek, but if she had a poster on her bedroom wall, it would be of Bill Gates, not Brad Pitt.” He cracked an eye open. “Planning to surf the information super-highway at my sister’s place?”

  Mac started the car and pulled out of the driveway. “Damn straight.”

  When he returned to Amos’s place, Mac had a phone number in his shirt pocket, and he was edgy because he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it. Terri and Christie were still there, talking and playing Candy Land with Sophie and Amos. He could see the affection in Amos’s eyes as he let Christie draw a card with a colored square and then “help” him advance his game piece to that color. She’d drawn a blue card. Ordinary, everyday blue. Nothing like the deep, hauntingly beautiful cobalt color of Terri’s eyes.

  Mac called himself a horny idiot and proceeded inside the kitchen. As he hung his car keys on a hook by the door, Sophie looked up from the game.

  Never one to mince words, she started in on him immediately. “Amos and I were talking after you left, feeling bad that your plans were spoiled when Shane bailed out on you. We think you should take Terri out to Walnut Canyon.”

  Mac swung a sharp look at Terri. She was as startled as he was. The two of them spoke at once. “Mac’s been up since dawn,” she blurted. “He’s probably exhausted.”

  “Who’s going to look after Christie?” was Mac’s question.

  “Sophie and me kin watch the little one,” Amos said releasing a rusty chuckle. “And when I was thirty-five, I didn’t have no trouble at all stayin’ awake when there was a beautiful woman beside me.”

  Color crept into Terri’s cheeks at the compliment, but Mac had another reaction.

  Despite his reservations and the phone number in his pocket, his sex drive kicked in, the damn thing already contemplating the trip and the private time they’d have there.

  The canyon was beautiful in summer, wildly primitive with Douglas firs, cottonwoods and pines. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Terri would enjoy seeing the limestone cliff dwellings. But in her own subtle way, she’d made it clear last night that their relationship would never go beyond friendship, so he and his hormones had decided to adopt a cool-it attitude. Well, he had, anyway. His hormones were a little slow on the uptake today.

  “Granddad, it’s going on two o’clock already, and the monument closes at six.”

  “You got time. It’s only seven miles from Flagstaff.”

  “But by the time we get there, check out the visitor’s center and walk the path, it’ll be time to leave. Besides, Terri doesn’t like crowds, and it’s too late to reserve a spot and a guide for the Ledge Walk.”

  Erin blinked in irritation. Terri doesn’t like crowds?

  “So, do the Island Walk,” Sophie prompted. “It might not be crowded at all. With Amos doing so well, and Terri telling us that she’ll be moving on soon, time’s growing short. It would be a shame if she left without seeing the cliff dwellings.”

  “An opportunity like this don’t come along for her every day,” Amos chimed in. “And she don’t need a guide. You been there enough times to tell her everything she needs to know.”

  “Granddad, please. You’re railroading her. Can’t you see she doesn’t want to go?”

  Erin’s blood pressure spiked. Once again Mac was making her decisions for her, and Charles had done that too many times in too many ways to put up with it from another man.

  “I’d love to go,” she said firmly. “Christie and I will be leaving soon—sooner than we’d thought. And I’d like very much to see the cliff dwellings. If you don’t want to drive me, maybe I’ll take Amos and Sophie up on their offer to watch Christie and go myself.”

  She watched Mac’s eyes spark. “You don’t understand,” he said to her. “It’s 185 feet down to the ruins, and there’s no elevator for the return trip. You’d be climbing steps both ways. It’s a strenuous hike.”

  “And I’m what? Too old? An invalid? Grossly out of shape?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Why don’t I give Terri directions?” Amos interrupted with a grin that only added fuel to the fire. “As for babysittin’, Christie and me get along fine. I’m your stand-in granddaddy, ain’t I, little bit?”

  Christie drew another card. “Gween, Aunt Soapie!”

  Mac pinned Amos with an exasperated look, then his gaze rebounded to Erin. “Terri, look. It’ll take more than a few hours to do it right. We wouldn’t be back until after supper.”

  But there was more than exasperation in that look, she realized. There was a message. He was telling her that they had unfinished business, and if she knew what was good for her, she’d make her excuses and forget this ridiculous notion.

  She knew she should. She knew it with all her heart. But suddenly her mind was weighing the pros and cons. It was doubtful that anyone Charles sent to find her would think to look for her at a tourist hot spot, so she and Mac would be safe there. Also, seeing the cliffs would be a wonderful experience to share if she ever returned to teaching. But it was the third consideration that made her nod her assent. One look at his dark eyes and rugged features, and the promise she’d made to herself became less important than being with him. Her life had been a nightmare for months, and recent events hinted that it would continue to be. She deserved a few hours of happiness.

  Erin spoke quietly to Christie. “Honey, if I go for a ride with Uncle Mac, would you be happy here with Aunt Sophie and Papa Amos? I’d be gone for a long time, so you’d have to take your nap on the couch.” Which was really no different from what she did during the day when they cared for Amos. “But I’d be back by bath time to read you a story and tuck you in.”

  “Da baby bunny story?”

  “Yep, Little Cottontail. And maybe we could have ice cream for a bedtime snack tonight instead of cereal.”

  “Okay!”

  Rising, Erin removed her game piece from the board, then hugged and kissed Christie and murmured for her to be a good girl. She then stared at Mac, who looked as though he were on his way to a hanging and would be deliriously happy to see her neck in the noose next to his. “I’m ready,” she said. “But I’d like to stop at the house first and get my camera.”

  The twenty-seven miles to the ruins took very little time because Mac drove like a man possessed—like a man who wanted to just get the whole trip over with. By the time they passed the sign welcoming all to Walnut Canyon National Monument and sped along the access road to the ruins, Erin was feeling the same way.

  Her mood changed, however, when they reached the canyon. They skipped touring the pretty stone-and-wood visitor’s center snuggled in among the trees in favor of starting their leisurely trek down to the dwellings.

  “We can collect all the brochures you want, and check out the exhibits when we come back up,” he said grimly, leading her past the building and onto a paved trail. “The center should still be open.”

  Then, there it was.

  Erin’s first glimpse of the canyon took her breath away. It was vast, formidable, with its steep stone walls, plunging gorge and thick proliferation of trees and scrub pine virtually growing from solid rock.

  “Oh, my.”

  “Yeah,” Mac said, still hanging on to his mood. “Hard to imagine people living here, isn’t it? Raising kids here had to be tricky.” He nodded ahead. “Let’s start down.”

  Mac guided her down the long paths and sets of steps, both of them taking time to drink in the scenery along the way. It was a strange feeling, walking down to the canyon’s midlevel with so much open space around her—daunting if not for the pipe railings set by the pa
rk service. She kept walking, though, snapping photos and following other tourists down to where the pale, prehistoric ruins waited.

  There were twenty-five in all, every one of them a testimony to the resourcefulness of their architects. As they passed, then stopped to peer inside the crumbling walls, Erin decided that it truly was amazing that anyone had called this place home. Mammoth rock outcroppings served as ceilings, with the walls and frontages of the homes built of shaped and plastered limestone, some of the bricks darkened by the fires of the people who’d once lived there. There was an astonishing view of more cliff dwellings on the opposite canyon wall.

  Mac spoke like an automaton as they stopped at an overlook, firing off statistics like someone with a travel brochure in his hip pocket.

  “There are about three hundred dwellings strung along both walls of the canyon. Some of them were homes and others were used for storage by the tribe.”

  “Which tribe? Pueblos? Anasazis?”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  She sent him a dry look. “I taught kindergarten, but I did take more than cutting-and-pasting in college.”

  Erin waited until a noisy family of four moved past them to speak again, then she did so in an undertone. “Mac, I’m not here because I wanted to spite you in front of your granddad and Sophie. It’s just that they were talking about the ruins when we were playing Candy Land with Christie, and while I didn’t necessarily need to see it with you, I was interested.”

  She paused. “I just got irritated when you kept answering for me instead of letting me tell them I’d rather wait to see it another time. Especially after you did the same thing to me in the barn this morning with Shane.”

  He sent her a blank look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do. You answered for me there, too. You assumed I didn’t ride or didn’t want to ride or go caching with the two of you instead of letting me be the one to say no.”

  His tight lips parted, and he drew a soft breath. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind either time.”

  No kidding, she thought. But then, she hadn’t been all sunshine and light, either.

  “To answer your question,” he said, staring out at the cross-canyon ruins, “the people who lived here were the Sinaguas—which means, literally, ‘without water.’ It’s still in short supply here. Water at the visitor’s center has to be pumped from a well two thousand feet deep.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” He finally smiled. “I assume that’s true, anyway. I read it in one of the leaflets I got at the center a while ago. As I said, before we leave, we’ll stop so you can pick up a few.”

  They walked slowly, dodging other visitors, peering into several of the dwellings, with Erin snapping photographs inside and out. He motioned to a long rock shelf adjacent to the pathway outside one of the ruins. “Come on. Let’s sit for a minute before we go back.”

  “Are we allowed?”

  “Sure. We can do anything we like as long as we don’t take or disturb anything here. It’s still a sacred place for modern-day Pueblos.”

  Erin followed him to the rock, and they sat for a time marveling and appreciating. But there was something important missing. Surrounded and immersed in so much natural splendor, his touch would have made the experience better—a way to acknowledge that they were sharing this together, not apart. But that was asking a lot from a man who hadn’t wanted to make the trip with her in the first place.

  Erin closed her eyes and filled her nostrils with the heady scent of pine, blocking out the voices from the trails above—yet hearing the melodic calls of birds and feeling the warm canyon wind on her face. She tried to imagine a people who farmed this unforgiving land and fashioned pots from red clay…children who raced along the trails playing with dolls made of fur and bits of bone.

  She tingled when Mac laced his fingers through hers.

  “So what’s this about your leaving sooner than you expected?” he asked quietly.

  Erin opened her eyes to meet his, sorry that when he’d finally spoken, he’d brought up an unhappy topic. She glanced at the other side of the canyon. Overhead, a trio of turkey vultures skimmed the warm thermals, black against the blue of the sky.

  “There really doesn’t seem to be any reason for me to stay. “Sophie and Amos are back together, so to speak, and I know she wants to take care of him. What’s the old saying? Three’s a crowd?” She glanced at him. “I told Amos when I took the job that I’d stay as long as he needed me. He’s doing great. Vicki said the other day that they’re getting close to discharging him. I’m not needed that much anymore.”

  “Not necessarily,” Mac returned sensibly. “Sophie has obligations, too. She has a son, daughter-in-law and grandkids in Sedona who need her occasionally, so her time isn’t completely her own. I don’t know who would win—”

  He fought a scowl when another group of people passed by, the oldest of the children whining about the long hike back to the top. When they were out of earshot, he continued. “As I was saying, I don’t know who would win if there was a tug-of-war of affections. I’d hate to see Amos without a caregiver before he’s ready to go solo.”

  “I would, too.”

  “So will you stay until he’s well enough to go it alone?”

  “I made a promise.”

  “But are you going to keep it?”

  Erin searched his dark eyes, trying to see into his thoughts. “Are you asking because you’re concerned you might have to line up another housekeeper? Or are you asking for some other reason?” Do you care about me? Would you miss me if I left?

  It took a moment for him to answer. Then, quietly he said, “I’m just asking.”

  It wasn’t the answer she’d hoped for, and Erin had to hide her disappointment. “I’ll stay as long as he needs me.” If I can, she added silently. Who knew what was ahead for her and Christie?

  Mac drew her to her feet. Then with grave uncertainty in his eyes and a look that told her he didn’t want to do it, he lowered his mouth onto hers and kissed her. But the kiss was bittersweet. His lips were gentle on hers, seeking, but not plundering, tasting but not taking command. He didn’t even hold her, maybe because he was giving her the opportunity to move away.

  As if she could. The canyon wind had begun to stir emotions that didn’t need stirring.

  They only drew away when voices from the trail behind them announced that they would soon have an audience. Mac’s expression turned somber again when they’d exchanged hellos with the passing group and the family had trekked off toward the top again.

  “I made a promise to you, too,” he said, his gaze locked with hers. “I haven’t delivered on it yet.”

  An involuntary shiver moved through her. “What promise?”

  “The one I made in the barn this morning when Shane was dazzling you.”

  Erin shook her head. “Mac, you’re telling me how I feel about things again. Shane wasn’t dazzling me. Shane couldn’t dazzle me.” Not the way you do with your too-serious looks and simmering sexuality. With your kisses that keep me wanting more, no matter how dangerous they are for both of us. “And I still don’t know what promise you’re talking about.”

  Taking her hand, he led her inside a nearby dwelling, deep into the shadows of the cave.

  “I told you I’d explain geocaching,” he whispered, taking the ribbon from her hair, then combing his fingers through the strands. But they both knew that caching was the furthest thing from his mind.

  Erin’s breath caught as he wrapped the ribbon around his index finger, then slowly tucked it inside the front pocket of her jeans.

  Mac traced the slope of her face with his fingertip, his gaze even more somber than it had been outside. “Cachers hide a container filled with small treasures and post the location on the Internet,” he whispered. “Then searchers enter the latitude and longitude of the cache into a GPS, and try to find it.”

  “Treasures?” Erin whispered, excitem
ent tingling along her nerve endings.

  “Simple treasures. A ribbon, a feather, a coin… Do you know what a GPS is, and how it works?”

  She could scarcely hear her own voice. “A global…something.”

  “Global positioning system,” Mac rasped, settling his hungry gaze on her mouth.

  He bent to kiss her again, their warm breaths melding, their tongues mating…their hands, of their own accord, starting the slow, sensual exploration of lovers. Over shoulders…over arms. Erin trembled as his hands skimmed her sides to her hips. Then his thick fingers hooked through the belt loops of her jeans and fitted her more closely to him.

  “Anyway,” he whispered as her nerve endings thrummed and vibrated. “It’s a lot of fun, and maybe we should do it sometime.” Slowly bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed each of her fingertips, then kissed her palm. His tongue slipped out to taste her skin, and Erin felt her insides turn to silk.

  “I’ll show you my GPS when we get back. It’s small. Only the size of your hand.” Then, watching her eyes, he slowly slid her hand down his chest to his belt buckle.

  And their world went wild.

  Chapter 11

  They came to each other in a flood of need.

  Mac crushed his mouth hungrily over hers, and Erin kissed him back with total abandon. She opened for his slick tongue, let hers mate with it as it plunged and plundered, taking what it wanted and leaving her quaking and holding on to him for dear life. Blood pounded in her ears as the kisses and touching went on and on, becoming bolder with each passing moment. I deserve this! she told herself, ignoring the strange voice in her mind warning that it was time to leave the park. She would not leave the park. She would stay and she would take what he offered and give him as much back as she was capable of giving.

  How she’d missed the heat singing through her blood, the fire licking along her veins. Erin drove her hands through his thick hair, deepening the kiss, frustrated that she couldn’t get closer, and fighting the overpowering urge to drop to the clay floor and be his completely.