Christmas Witness

by Aimée Thurlo

  She chuckled. “You’re talking to an artist who sells chip carvings to make her living. I know that feeling well.”

  Jake leaned against the door jamb and regarded her thoughtfully. “Your work is very close to your heart, isn’t it?”

  He sounded almost wistful. She gave him a quizzical look. “Just like your construction business is to you.”

  He shook his head. “No, to me, my company is all part of what I do, not who I am. This—” he waved to the angel carving and the other one she kept covered with a cloth “—seems to capture your soul.”

  “But, you know, sometimes I’m not at all sure that’s a good thing,” she admitted. “I’d probably be better off if it mattered less to me. But I can’t just walk away from it, not for very long. It’s all part of who I am and who I want to be.”

  “Like your baby?”

  “Yes. I want to be a mom. And I also want to be a successful artist.”

  “It must be difficult meeting the demands of so many different loves.”

  She nodded. “True, but they all help me stay focused, and remind me what’s really important and what isn’t.”

  He regarded her, lost in thought. “Compared to yours, my life seems empty. But it’s not, you know.”

  “I think you are dedicated to your company. You couldn’t have made it prosper without a lot of hard work.”

  “Yes, but hard work doesn’t depend upon dedication and devotion. I don’t give my heart away easily.”

  She felt herself drawn by the power of his gaze. It wrapped itself around her, squeezed the air from her lungs. Memories of his touch teased her imagination as he stepped toward her.

  He stopped by the Christmas cactus she’d set out on the window ledge. Bright red blooms with white centers covered the glossy green foliage. He caressed the leaves with a feather-light touch that made her skin tingle as memories danced in her head.

  “I’ve always enjoyed seeing these plants this time of year,” he said, “particularly the ones with the red flowers.”

  “They’re very hardy. Water them, give them sunlight, and they’re happy.” She picked up the pot and handed it to him. “Here. Consider it an early Christmas gift from me to you.”

  Jake took the pot, then shook his head. “It’s beautiful, but I can’t accept it. My life-style is all wrong for houseplants. I’m never in one place long enough to really take care of something that’s alive.”

  As he set the cactus back on the ledge, sadness and loneliness filled her. That was exactly what was wrong between them. Their very natures pulled them apart even as their hearts drew them together.

  He walked over to where she stood and cupped her face in the palms of his hands. His eyes burned right through to her soul. “I know I should stay away from you, but I don’t seem to be able to do that.”

  When he pulled her into his arms, she didn’t resist. With a groan, Jake took her mouth in a harsh, possessive kiss. “If only you could accept the love I can give you,” he whispered, his breath hot on her cheek. “Just you and me, loving—any way you wanted, everywhere you wanted.”

  More than anything she wanted to accept what he was offering her, but she knew she couldn’t. As the baby stirred inside her, she found the strength to step back.

  “What we share is passion, Jake, and that isn’t enough. Love has to be right in order to survive.”

  He didn’t fight her. They both knew what needed to be done. “Every time I look at you, Annie, every time I’m near you, my heart tells me to do one thing, my mind another.”

  As he turned and left the studio, Annie sank into the chair. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Everything in life had a price, and the cost of loving Jake was pain and heartbreak. The reality was inescapable—with the baby on its way, she needed more than what was in his nature to give.

  ANNIE WORKED furiously for the next few hours, then, needing a break, decided to go for a walk. Sometimes it was the only thing that helped work out the kinks in her back.

  As she strolled in the direction of the stalls, she saw Jake gallop out of the corral on one of the stallions. She’d only caught a glimpse of the rider, but it had been enough. Jake and the animal were as one, their movements perfectly coordinated.

  One of the ranch hands ran out of the barn, looked around, and spotted Jake in the distance. The man shrugged and walked over to Rick, who was topping off one of the horse troughs. “Nick just rode off on Equinox before I could give him the new feed bill. Remind me to catch him when he comes back from his ride.”

  “That wasn’t Nick,” Annie said, approaching.

  “Are you sure?” Rick asked.

  “Positive,” she said, surprised they couldn’t tell the differences between the twins.

  “I can’t tell one from the other,” the ranch hand said with a helpless shrug, “unless I recognize their clothes.”

  “Me neither,” Rick admitted. “I just play dumb until they say something that gives them away. How do you tell them apart?”

  She considered the question, really wanting to help him out. But there was no answer she could give him that made sense. All she knew was that her heart raced whenever Jake came near her, but it wasn’t so with Nick. “I don’t know exactly, maybe it’s in their expressions. But, to me, they’re as different as night and day.”

  As she returned to the house, she suddenly understood the truth behind her words. The reason she could tell the men apart was simple. She’d fallen head over heels in love with Jake, and her heart would never be fooled.

  With a soft groan, she went back to her studio. At least there, she was in a world she understood.

  IT WAS AFTER DARK when she finally stopped working. The new carving showed a lot of promise. She had created the image of a woman reaching for a star that was just out of her reach. The yearning, the struggle for hope, was slowly coming out in the wood as her heart guided her hand.

  Exhausted, she moved the piece to the center of the table and covered it with a cloth. The natural light was gone, and it was time to stop. As she went to the window to peer into the night, she found it impossible to see anything past the circle of floodlights that now illuminated the main house.

  Then, suddenly, she caught a bright flash, like a single headlight just beyond the illuminated grounds. Curious, she squinted, trying to make it out despite the distortion created by the frosted glass.

  The brightness died slightly, then seemed to expand in size. Unable to make it out clearly, she opened the window. At that same moment she caught a whiff of smoke. It lay heavy in the air along with the loud whinnies of frightened horses.

  Only one thing could explain it—a fire in the barn. She rushed out of the studio and into the hall.

  “Fire! There’s a fire outside!” she yelled.

  Jake had already seen it and was at the door, reaching for his coat when she arrived.

  “Annie, stay here,” Jake commanded. “You can’t help, not in your condition. Call the fire department.” He reached for a pair of work gloves.

  Annie picked up the phone, and left the information with the pueblo’s volunteer fire department.

  She was about to tell Jake when Nick rushed in through the back door. “Martin’s already getting the horses out, but we need help. Annie, can you spray water from one of the garden hoses? We’ve got to wet down the hay before we lose the entire barn.”

  “Of course I can.” She grabbed her jacket off the hook.

  “No, you can’t,” Jake protested. “You could get hurt.”

  “I know enough to stay out of the way of a scared animal. I can help. And you need an extra pair of hands.”

  Nick held the door open. “Let’s go, Jake.” He looked at Annie. “Don’t feel pressured into coming. It’s your call.”

  “I’m going.” She followed the men out, though she knew Jake didn’t like the idea. The moment she got a clear look at the barn, she knew that they’d need far more help than the four of them could muster.

  The two brothers
sprinted ahead, and she hurried as fast as she could. As she approached the stalls, Martin came out, leading a horse. He’d thrown his coat over the animal’s head, covering its eyes. Several more were already loose, heading out to the pasture at a fast trot.

  Annie grabbed the garden hose, which was kept coiled beside an insulated water faucet, and turned on the tap. She adjusted the spray nozzle as she pulled the hose toward the barn.

  With Jake, Nick and Martin working in tandem, it didn’t take long before all the animals were safe, but the flames were shooting high into the darkened sky through a charred break in the roof. She kept the garden hose aimed at the base of the flames, but she wasn’t able to get as close to the fire as she wanted. The smoke was too thick, and twice she had to step back when she started to cough.

  The men worked together, Martin manning another hose while the twins used shovels and rakes to isolate burning bales, trying to minimize the spread.

  “As long as we can keep the fire from reaching the storage area on the other side of the stalls, we’ll be okay,” Jake yelled. “Keep the water going.”

  “There’s a breeze building that will fan the flames and spread this fire, no matter what we do,” Nick yelled back. “We’re not going to be able to stop it.”

  “We have to. We’re on our own for now.” Just as he spoke, the sound of honking horns revealed a dozen or more vehicles making their way along the main road. The first had already turned down the drive, and more were following.

  “Our neighbors have seen the flames,” Martin said. “Your father always helped them, giving away thousands of dollars of hay each year to those who were strapped for cash. They’ll be here now that the Black Ravens need help.”

  Annie and Jake exchanged glances. They now knew what had happened to the hay. At least Jake could be at peace about that.

  Men and women parked their cars a safe distance back, then ran toward them with shovels and buckets. They were quickly organized into teams and whatever was salvageable was hauled away from the flames. Two lines formed a bucket brigade from the horse troughs, passing water from hand to hand toward the fire. Those at the end doused the flames, and returned the buckets to be refilled.

  By the time the fire department arrived, the fire had been contained. With extra help, it wasn’t long before the flames were reduced to a few smoking embers. She looked at the gutted section of the building, and relinquished the hose to one of the pueblo men.

  Exhausted, she moved over to a table where two women were providing cups of drinking water from a large jug and tending to people who’d inhaled smoke.

  It was then she saw Jake. His cheeks were blackened with soot and his gloves were tattered and partially burned. He was catching his breath now that the fire was finally beaten down. Filling up a paper cup, she handed him some water.

  He took a deep swallow before speaking. “Everything’s okay now,” he said. “And the horses weren’t hurt.”

  His voice was like a warm embrace in the bitter cold of the desert night. “I’m glad.” She gestured around her. “It appears that the Black Raven Ranch has a lot of friends.”

  He nodded slowly. “Maybe because it belongs to the tribe as much as it belongs to us. The Black Raven family has given it direction, but people from the pueblo are its lifeblood. And for the first time in my life, I’m really glad that’s the way things are. The sense of unity and brotherhood we saw here tonight is what being Tewa is all about.”

  “It sounds to me as if you’ve come home for keeps,” she said, her voice a bare whisper among the loud voices of the men still working.

  “It’s strange how things work out. I’m beginning to see that I’ve spent a lifetime running away from something I love. I—”

  “Fire! At the house!” someone shouted.

  Muttering an oath, Jake turned around quickly. Smoke was coming out of the study window. “I should have known! The fire here was a diversion. The main house was the real target.” He tossed aside the paper cup and ran toward the house with Martin and Nick at his heels.

  Two firemen grabbed fire extinguishers and followed them while others got ready to move the pumper.

  Annie stumbled toward the house, tears running down her face. If she lost her carvings, then she would be completely broke after the baby arrived. She’d been counting heavily on the money the sale would bring.

  This time, though everything was at stake for her, she was not allowed to help. The fire department took charge. Fortunately the flames were easily extinguished, and it was less than ten minutes before the all-clear was given.

  As a big fan was placed in the main entrance to extract smoke from the building, Jake came to join her. “It’s okay, Annie. The fire was confined to the sala and my dad’s study. Someone set the Christmas tree on fire, along with the curtains in the study, but the firemen were able to put it out before it spread beyond those two rooms. Some of the furniture is ruined and a lot of the books and papers in the study are a total loss.”

  “This was the arsonist’s way of trying to make sure the evidence was never found,” Annie observed thoughtfully. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Which means he didn’t find what he was after, either,” Jake answered. “But if the evidence was hidden in the study, then he may have succeeded in getting rid of it for good.” He paused, catching his breath, then continued. “He was smart. The logical place to start the fire was in the sala with the Christmas tree. There was a chance the fire might have been blamed on the tree or the lights. What gave him away was that we were able to catch the fire in time to see that there was a separate fire in the study. The fireman who does arson investigations hasn’t made an official determination yet, but there’s little doubt the fires were set.”

  “None of us is safe now,” she said softly.

  “Annie, have you considered putting as much distance between yourself and this ranch as possible? My father never dreamed we’d be facing this when he made out his will, and we might be able to contest it on that basis.”

  She shook her head. “I have nowhere to go and, here, at least I have friends and my midwife. There’s something else I have to consider. What kind of parent would I be if I ran away when trouble came, instead of standing up for what I knew was right? I can’t turn my back on the principles that are at the foundation of everything I believe in, and expect to impart them to my child someday. I know what’s right, Jake, and it isn’t running away.”

  “You’ve got a lot of courage, Annie. You’ll be a wonderful mother. Thank you for what you did here tonight.”

  “This was Paul’s ranch,” she said quietly. “It’s now yours and Nick’s and, at least for now, it’s my home, too. I care about this place and I fight for whatever owns a piece of my heart.”

  “I envy the man you’ll say that about someday, sweetheart.”

  His voice was a dark, husky murmur that made her skin tingle and filled her with yearnings too powerful to deny. Passion shimmered in his eyes, calling voicelessly to her, tempting her to surrender.

  Annie wanted him to narrow the gap between them and kiss her, throwing caution to the winds. As their eyes met, Jake heard her silent wish and answered.

  “Annie,” he whispered, moving toward her.

  Suddenly someone called out his name. He cursed softly. “I better go.” Stepping away from her reluctantly, he turned and jogged toward Martin and Nick. The men met at the front door then, accompanied by a fireman, went inside.

  As the cold wind whipped against her, Annie looked around, studying the concerned faces of those present, wondering if the killer was among them—because it was obvious Paul’s murderer was someone he had known. One of them was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  At the kitchen table the following morning, an uneasy silence reigned over them as they stared at the plate in the center of the table. There lay the few ornaments they’d managed to salvage. They’d fallen to the floor, the strings that once tied them to the tree having bur
ned through first.

  The firemen and Captain Mora had agreed from the evidence and the case history that both fires had been a result of arson. The police had checked for vehicle tracks, hoping to identify the culprit, but so many people had shown up to help it had been a futile exercise.

  “I’m positive that money is at the root of everything that’s happened to Dad, to us, and to this ranch,” Jake said. “I’m just not sure how it all connects.”

  “I keep thinking of those cash withdrawals you mentioned,” Annie said. “From what you’ve said, they were substantial amounts, and we still don’t know what the money was being used for.”

  “You have to remember that hay and feed purchases were often handled in cash,” Martin said. “It was the same with services like plowing up a field, or clearing the ditches. Most people around here are old-fashioned and wary of checks. But it’s hard to keep track of money that’s used in so many ways. Your father hated those accounting ledgers he was forced to use for tax purposes. Saya had kept the ranch accounts for Paul until she died and he hated having to take them over.”

  “Dad still trusted her with the ranch, even after their troubles,” Jake said thoughtfully, then lapsed into a brief silence. The importance of what he’d just learned stunned him. Despite their differences, Paul Black Raven had trusted his wife with what was most important to him—his sons and his ranch. “If Mom was used to keeping accounts, maybe that’s why she opened her own. It gave her the freedom to manage her money any way she chose. What do you think?”

  Martin gave him a neutral look. “That’s not for me to say.”

  “Does it surprise you that she had her own account?”

  Martin paused, then shook his head. “Saya never wanted to be completely dependent on anyone.”

  “Including my father?” Jake pressed.

  Martin nodded once, then stood. “If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be going outside. The barn needs a lot of work.” He went quickly out the back door.

  Nick stared at his brother. “Why did you bring that up? You know Martin doesn’t want to get involved in the family’s personal business. He has a place within our family, but he’s not part of our family. More to the point, that’s exactly the way he wants to keep it.”