by Helen Conrad
He looked back, his gaze uncertain. “Okay,” he muttered at last, holding out a hand to take the peanuts from her.
A feeling of triumph welled up in her as she passed the food back, but she hid it from the boy. She couldn’t resist a haughty look at Michael, though. To her surprise, when her eyes met his he started laughing. “Don’t I get any?” he teased. “Or am I in the doghouse?”
She handed him a few, and when her eyes met his this time, heat shot through her like brandy and she looked quickly away.
The small country road they’d been traveling on widened, and all of a sudden they were on a major thoroughfare.
“Phoenix looks a lot like Los Angeles,” Michael said disapprovingly as the freeway brought them closer to the city. “Do you know your way around?”
Jessie shook her head. “Not like I do Tucson,” she said.
“I guess I’ll just take an off ramp and hope for the best.”
They found themselves in a sleepy looking suburb. Michael pulled into the parking lot of a small shopping mall, right in front of a telephone booth, making sure the car was not visible from the highway. Customers were few and far between. The ongoing carnival in a nearby field was probably the reason.
“I’m going to have to make quite a few calls,” Michael said, counting out his change. “Why don’t the two of you stretch your legs?”
Jessie looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “You trust me?” she asked, only half teasing.
He started to reach for her, an involuntary gesture he couldn’t analyze. It seemed natural, as though they were lovers and touching was part of their relationship. But it wasn’t, and they weren’t. He had to remind himself of that. “I trust you,” he said softly, his eyes shining in the sunlight.
She’d noticed everything, and even though she wasn’t sure what it all meant, she responded emotionally. She smiled, pure happiness shimmering through her.
He shook his head, grinned and ducked out of the car. “See you all in a few minutes,” he said, heading for the telephone.
Jessie tingled, but she shook the feeling away. “Come on, Jimmy,” she said. “Let’s you and me get us a couple of ice-cream cones.”
Jimmy got out of the car to follow her, and she noticed he had his bag along. “What are you bringing that thing for?” she asked casually, unprepared for the way he was hugging it to his chest.
“I... I guess I’d better get another ride here,” he said, but he looked her full in the face as though waiting for something.
Jessie felt her heart contract. “No,” she said quickly. She couldn’t bear to think of him standing alongside the highway with his thumb out again. “No, wait until Michael makes his calls. Maybe we’ll be able to phone your mother.”
“No.” He shook his head vehemently. “She doesn’t have a phone.”
“Oh.” But he didn’t say anything more about leaving them, and neither did she.
She bought him a double chocolate fudge supreme and got herself a lemon custard. They walked back slowly, licking their cones and gazing in store windows. The sporting goods store caught Jessie’s eye.
“What’s your favorite sport, Jimmy?” she asked, looking over the footballs displayed in the window. But Jimmy didn’t answer. Turning around, she found he’d stopped in front of the furniture store next door. Curious to see what had captured his attention, she went back to stand beside him. What she saw was a perfectly ordinary maple dining-room set.
“Do you have a table like that at your house?” Jimmy asked.
“I guess what we have might have looked like that about twenty years ago,” she said cheerfully, then felt a shiver of dismay. She’d been going to ask Jimmy what kind his mother had, but what if she didn’t have one? Migrant workers often spent years moving from tent cities to shacks along the highway, following the crops as they were harvested. She’d never thought about it before, but suddenly she was angry. Those people worked hard. They deserved a decent standard of living. Paying them more would mean higher food prices, but maybe that was the only fair thing to do.
As she stood there mulling over the plight of the migrant workers, Michael emerged from the telephone booth. “Did you find him?” she asked when he got back to her. The look on his face told her that the answer was no.
“I’ve got one more number to call. They told me to phone back in about half an hour.” He shrugged and looked around him. “Want to go over and check out the carnival?”
Jimmy’s face lit up and they both laughed. A moment later the three of them were strolling toward the noise and music. A Ferris wheel flashed in the sunlight. The raucous sounds of a calliope split the air. Children walked by with huge cones of cotton candy, and a monkey on a chain chattered at them as they passed.
Jessie noticed people turn to look twice as their little group went by. She guessed it was because of the odd combination they made, she in her boots and cowboy hat, Michael in his rumpled business suit and the little dark-eyed boy in ragged jeans and a faded blue sweatshirt, clutching a canvas bag to his chest. It made her smile. She kind of liked it.
Jimmy rode on the merry-go-round, with Jessie and Michael cheering him on from the sides. He actually grinned at them as he passed. Then he wanted to go on a roller coaster, and Michael talked Jessie into coming along.
Actually, she loved roller coasters, but she was a little nervous about being jammed up hard against Michael as the three of them shared a seat. The car started to roll and his arm came around her, and she found herself bracing herself against him, more excited by the sense of his strength than the speed of the ride. When the car finally came to a stop, his arm lingered. She turned to look at him, her heart beating wildly. He gazed at her for a long moment.
“Come on, you guys,” Jimmy said impatiently, his original reticence forgotten now. “Let’s go on the Boomerang.”
The two of them drew apart reluctantly, and Jessie wondered what was wrong with her. After all these years, all the experience she’d had in avoiding romance, this was no time to lose perspective. Clenching her teeth as they left the ride, she vowed to remember that from now on. Michael was poison. And she’d better not forget it.
Something about “pony races” came over the public address system and Jimmy stopped, listening intently.
“What is it?” Jessie asked him.
He looked around. “Where’s the track?” he said. “They’re having pony races.”
They found the quarter-mile track easily. The man with the microphone was exhorting all boys and girls under the age of thirteen to sign up for the races. “A twenty-five-dollar prize to the winner,” he said.
Jimmy’s face was set as he turned to Jessie. “Will you hold my bag?” he asked.
She took it from him automatically. “Are you going to ride?” she asked, delighted at first, then skeptical. This was a child of migrant workers, not of ranchers. “How well do you ride, Jimmy? Do you know what you’re doing?”
He nodded.
She chewed her lip, wondering what his mother would want for him. “Don’t you have to have your own horse?”
He pointed toward the sign for the event. “They provide horses. You can use your own if you want to, but mostly they provide them.”
Jessie shook her head. “I don’t think you should do it.”
He was hitching up his pants, his mouth a thin line of determination. “I need that money,” he said solemnly.
Jessie looked quickly at Michael for help, then back at the boy. “Jimmy, have you ever been on a horse before?”
“Once. On my uncle’s farm in Mexico.”
Jessie frowned. “That’s not enough, Jimmy. The other boys are experienced riders. It could be dangerous.”
But he wasn’t listening. He walked toward the announcer and Jessie turned to Michael. “He could get hurt. And he sure won’t win anything against these boys who’ve probably grown up on ranches.” The clear implication was that Michael should do something fast.
Michael looked at her an
d shrugged. “What do you want me to do? Forbid him?” His tone suggested he thought she was being overcautious, but Jessie had seen inexperienced riders hurt in this sort of thing before.
Suddenly Jimmy was back waving a sheet of white paper. “I need you to sign,” he told Jessie, handing it to her, his dark eyes huge and hopeful.
She scanned it. It was a parental consent form. “You need your parent or guardian to sign,” she told him. “I’m neither. I can’t sign this.” She handed it back to him, relieved. “I guess you won’t be able to race after all.”
His face held no resentment, but he sighed and handed the form to Michael. “Could you sign it?” he asked.
Michael looked at the boy, then at Jessie. One pair of eyes pleaded for help; the other demanded he refuse. He swallowed and wished he could offer to take the ride himself. Life had certainly gotten complicated since he’d hooked up with Jessie Carrington.
But there was a place for feminine caution, and there was a place for bold adventuring. He was ready to vote for the latter right now. “Sure, kid,” he said, taking the paper from Jimmy. “I’ll sign for you.”
“Michael!”
He shrugged, his expression that of resignation. “A boy’s gotta do what a boy’s gotta do,” he informed her sadly, reaching for a pen.
Jessie was outraged. “You can’t,” she snapped, looking around quickly to see if they were being overheard. “That’s like forgery. It’s illegal.”
Paying no attention, Michael signed the paper with a flourish. “Just add it to my list of transgressions. I’m going for a record.” He grinned at Jimmy, who grinned back for a moment.
“Thanks, Michael,” the boy said before loping off to join the other boys preparing to ride.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Jessie grumbled.
“Probably not.” His eyes met hers. “I’ve been doing a lot of things I shouldn’t lately.”
Something quivered in his gaze, and she blinked, then looked quickly away. “Isn’t it time you got back to your phone call?” she reminded him gruffly.
He hesitated. “Right after the race,” he told her. “I want to see Jimmy ride.”
Jessie shivered. She didn’t like this. Jimmy was such a cute little guy. When she thought of what could happen to him out there... She shivered again and leaned up against the railing that rimmed the track.
Closing her eyes, she took in the atmosphere, the dust of the corral, the smell of horses, the country music playing in the background, and she let herself feel at home. This was her sort of place. Michael probably didn’t appreciate it for what it was. Most probably you had to be born to it. And even then, sometimes the liking didn’t take.
That reminded her of Beau, her ex-husband. He’d been born on a ranch just as she had, but he’d never really liked ranching. It was a wonder he’d ever thought he loved her. He was always champing at the bit, talking about moving to Tucson or Phoenix or even Dallas, talking about schemes to make millions, fancy cars, going to parties. What on earth had she ever seen in him? It made you stop and think about how dumb a person could be. Dumb or blind.
She glanced over at Michael and found him staring at her. “What are you looking at?” she asked defensively.
“You.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “How is it that you keep looking prettier to me all the time?”
She reached up and shoved her hat down low over her eyes and frowned at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the spots of color that had rushed to her cheeks. “The Arizona sun must have blinded you, mister.”
“No.” He narrowed his eyes, watching her through the sunlit blur of his lashes. For some strange reason he was picturing the Drayton diamonds around her tanned neck. And they looked as though they were made for her.
The Drayton diamonds had been in his family for generations. Most recently they’d spent most of their time around his mother’s neck. But they didn’t really belong to Pamela. They belonged to the Drayton family. To think that she’d handed them over to Sky Matthews brought anger surging through him once again.
His mother. A bitter taste haunted him when he thought of her. She’d never been a real mother to him, more a figurehead. When he conjured up a vision of her now, he always saw her dressed for an evening out, a cigarette in one hand, a bejeweled, gold-plated lighter in the other.
That afternoon in San Francisco, he’d taken the necklace from Vanessa’s hands and let the stones slip through his fingers. “Where did you get these?” he’d asked harshly.
“Gambling debts,” Vanessa had told him as he’d stared at the glittering jewels he held. “She gave them to my father in exchange for cash to pay off her gambling debts.”
The horrible thing was he’d never doubted that what Vanessa said was true. When he’d been a little boy, he’d loved his mother, loved her all the more because she hardly gave him a thought. He’d been desperate for her attention. All the tricks and antics of his young life had been to attract her eye. He’d had his father’s love, a love that was unquestioning, but his mother... Why couldn’t she love him? Though for years he’d been too young to understand it, finally he realized that the question had been a constant one in his mind. Why couldn’t she love him?
He thought of his sad, graying father, his kind eyes not comprehending the events going wrong in his life, and his heart ached. Pamela had spent less and less time at home over the years. She was always at some party, always traveling. Michael was pretty sure she saw other men, though no one had ever dared lay the proof out before him. But his father had loved his beautiful, brittle mother, too. What a pair of fools they were, he and his dad.
So Sky Matthews had paid off his mother’s gambling debts and held the Drayton diamonds in return. Did that mean his mother had been having an affair with Sky? Not necessarily. But something told him it was all too possible. And that might be one reason she refused to come back from Europe these days.
“I can’t let you keep these,” he’d told Vanessa. “Have Sky let me know how much money he gave my mother. I’ll cover it. But I can’t let you keep this necklace.”
Vanessa had made a grab for them, but he’d pulled away in time. “No,” she’d cried, real anguish in her face. “The Drayton necklace is mine now!”
“It doesn’t belong to you,” he ground out, starting for the door with the diamonds in his hand. “I’ll keep it, if you don’t mind.”
Vanessa had tried to block his way. “Oh, Michael, no, please! I’ve wanted the diamonds for so long, ever since I was a little girl. They obviously didn’t mean a thing to your mother, but they mean everything to me.” She blinked at him, thinking fast. “They’re like a symbol of our commitment.”
He’d thrust her out of his path, the diamonds threaded through his fingers. “Our commitment is over, Vanessa. Surely you can see that.”
Confusion clouded her face. “No! I love you.”
“You don’t love me any more than I love you. I’m just another possession to you, Vanessa. A name that adds a certain prestige.” He felt almost sad, looking at her. “Take my advice as an old friend. Go out and get yourself a job and an apartment. Make yourself a life. Get away from Sky.”
And then he was gone, out the door and downtown to police headquarters, where he would try to talk sense into Bob Taylor.
Jessie’s elbow was making contact with his ribs, bringing him back to the present.
“Here they go,” she said.
The kids were mounted and ready to ride. Jimmy didn’t look nervous. But he didn’t have the easy confidence the other boys and girls showed, either. While they grinned and laughed and called to one another from astride their ponies, Jimmy sat very still, his face a dark mask of concentration.
Jessie reached unconsciously for Michael’s arm, her fingers circling it as she watched the boy. “Hold tight, honey,” she said just under her breath. “Take it easy. Sit back and let the ride flow through you.”
Jimmy did just the opposite. The starter fired his gun an
d the horses were off, and Jimmy was crouched over his pony’s neck, his face whipped by the animal’s mane.
“He’s falling off!” Jessie cried, her fingers digging into Michael’s arm.
“Ouch,” he said, prying her fingers loose. “He’s not falling. He’s riding great.”
The dust from the horses’ hooves was in her mouth and in her eyes and she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. Was Jimmy really out in front? Out along the backstretch, that was sure what it looked like.
“C’mon, Jimmy!” she said now, her hands balled into fists. “Go, Jimmy! Go!”
Michael laughed softly as he watched her. The woman who’d been so against this was suddenly Jimmy’s number one fan, her face alive with excitement. As the riders came around the turn and headed for home, she began to jump up and down, chanting over and over, “Go, Jimmy. Go, Jimmy!”
When he won, she whooped and threw herself into Michael’s arms. He held her gently, looking down at her tangled hair. She felt good. He wanted to draw her up against his chest and close his eyes and hold her. But she was gone in the next instant, running to help Jimmy down off the horse. He followed slowly, wondering what it would have been like to know Jessie earlier, before prison, before this headlong race across the countryside had begun. But then he remembered that she wouldn’t have given him a second glance back then. After all, there’d been no reward posted for him. That made him grin.
CHAPTER TEN
Heading For The Rojo Mountains
The last call hit the jackpot. The C. Carter did turn out to be Kerry’s brother Chester.
“He was here all right,” he told Michael on the telephone. “But he left last week. He was headed to Las Vegas to see some people.”
“Las Vegas.” Michael thought for a moment. “Do you know where he’s staying?”
“Sorry.”
Michael had visions of Kerry slipping away from him again. “How about a name, someone he was going to see?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
And you wouldn’t tell me even if he had, Michael realized. What could he do to win this man’s trust?
