Desert Rain with Bonus Material

by Elizabeth Lowell

  No.

  Then came the urgent words that were meant to fill that terrible silence.

  Holly, don’t do this to us. You want me. I know that as surely as I know I’m alive!

  Softly she had hung up the phone. She couldn’t bear to hear her own agony in Linc’s voice.

  Hunger wasn’t enough.

  If it were, she would never have left him.

  Holly hadn’t taken any more of his calls. The brief return of hope had hurt too much, reminding her of what it had been like to feel a dream come true, to love Linc.

  To be alive, fully alive.

  To believe that all things were possible, even the love of a man who didn’t believe beautiful women were worth loving.

  In time, Linc had stopped calling.

  In time, Holly prayed that she would stop caring.

  Driven by her foot pressing heavily on the accelerator, the Jeep bucked and fishtailed up over the last ridge separating Holly from Hidden Springs.

  The first thing she saw was three horses and riders at her former campsite. Abruptly she sent the Jeep into a controlled skid, stopping in a shower of stones and dirt well beyond the waiting riders.

  Using every bit of her self-control, Holly fought her impulse to turn and hurtle the Jeep back the same way she had come.

  No. That’s something Holly would have done, she told herself bitterly. Holly doesn’t live here anymore.

  Only Shannon.

  Because only Shannon could survive.

  She sat unmoving behind the wheel of the Jeep, watching Linc as he sat on Sand Dancer not a hundred feet away from her.

  Then he turned and looked at her, consuming her in a single glance.

  For the first time Holly felt the relentless heat of the sun pushing her down, flattening her. There was nothing beneath, nothing to hold her upright. The world was falling away.

  There was nothing supporting her but Linc’s intensity. And soon he would look away, leaving her to fall endlessly.

  I can’t let him do this to me.

  Closing her eyes, Holly hung on to the steering wheel like a lifeline. She hadn’t known until this instant how close to the edge of her world she had been living.

  And how easy it would be to fall off.

  The knowledge was terrifying.

  “Holly?”

  It was Beth’s voice calling to her, not Linc’s.

  Holly gathered what was left of herself and opened her eyes.

  Beth was on foot, walking quickly toward the Jeep, leaving the other two riders behind. A big yellow dog romped around the girl, all but tripping her with every other step.

  Taking a deep breath, then another, Holly opened the Jeep’s door and forced herself to get out as though she hadn’t anything more on her mind than the heat of the day.

  She ruffled Freedom’s ears when he bounded up to greet her. Then she forced herself to smile, really smile, at the girl who was approaching so eagerly.

  It’s not Beth’s fault that I loved the wrong man, Holly reminded herself. She doesn’t deserve the sharp edges and empty shell of Shannon’s cynicism.

  She opened her arms and hugged Beth, saying to Linc’s sister what she couldn’t say to Linc himself.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Holly murmured.

  Her voice was thick with too many emotions. Too much Holly. Too little Shannon.

  Beth’s voice caught in a sob. She hung onto Holly for long moments before she could speak.

  “Why—” Beth began. Then, quickly, she stopped. “No, I promised myself I wouldn’t ask.”

  Holly tried to smile.

  It almost worked.

  “How are you?” Beth asked anxiously.

  “Fine. Just fine.”

  “You look different. Like Linc. Older.”

  “I am.”

  Unable to bear hearing Linc’s name again, Holly took off the western hat that all but concealed Beth’s face.

  The girl was exquisite.

  “Talk about a change,” Holly said. “Look at you!”

  Beth’s hair fell around her shoulders in a radiant tide, framing her face in smoldering honey curls. She wore just enough makeup to bring out the turquoise brilliance of her eyes. Beneath a transparent gloss, her lips were vulnerable, inviting, innocent.

  “You’ve grown into your beauty,” Holly said. “How does your brother feel abou—never mind. It’s none of my business.”

  “Linc doesn’t mind that I’m beautiful,” she said. “Not anymore.”

  Holly made a sound that could have meant anything. She didn’t want to talk about Linc and beauty.

  She didn’t want to talk about Linc at all.

  “Four weeks after he came back from Cabo San Lucas,” Beth said, “he took me to Palm Springs. New clothes, new hairstyle, new makeup, everything I wanted except you for my sister.”

  Holly hoped her pain didn’t show.

  “You look happy,” she said quietly. “I’m glad.”

  Beth blinked back tears.

  “Linc wants me to be whatever I want to be,” she said. “Beautiful or plain or anywhere in between. He loves me.”

  Holly felt the world falling away again.

  “I’m happy for you,” she whispered.

  She was surprised that she could speak at all past the numbness gripping her soul.

  At least he learned that much, she thought in helpless anguish. The pain wasn’t all for nothing.

  “Come back to the ranch with us,” Beth said.

  Automatically Holly shook her head.

  “Please,” Beth said. “Linc loves you.”

  Holly flinched as though she had been slapped.

  “No,” she said.

  “But he does,” Beth said quickly. “He hasn’t seen Cyn or any other woman. All he’s done is work like there’s no tomorrow. He’s awful to everyone except me. He’s been so gentle with me that sometimes I just want to cry. Please come back. He loves—”

  “Stop it,” Holly interrupted savagely.

  The girl’s eyes widened with surprise and hurt.

  Holly fought for self-control. After a few long breaths, it came. But it was fragile.

  As fragile as Holly herself.

  “Thank you, but no,” she said carefully.

  “I’ve missed you. I love you, Holly. I always have.”

  Holly’s eyelids flinched.

  “I feel the same way about you,” she whispered.

  “Then why—”

  “Now that you and your brother understand each other,” she interrupted quickly, “maybe he’ll let you come with me. I’m going to Rio soon. Or maybe it’s Tokyo and then Rio.”

  “Tokyo? Rio?” Beth asked breathlessly.

  Holly shrugged. “I forget which comes first. Would you like to go with me?”

  “Cool! I’ve never been anywhere but Palm Springs!”

  Excitement made Beth look younger. Then her excitement faded. She sighed and looked over her shoulder.

  “I don’t know if Linc would let me miss school,” Beth admitted, turning back to Holly. “I’m only here today because I threatened awful things if I didn’t get the chance to see you.”

  Wistfully Holly smiled. She hadn’t realized quite how lonely she had been until she thought of taking Beth with her, having someone to share her world with.

  “Maybe during Thanksgiving or Christmas vacation,” Holly began. Then she shook her head. “No, those are family times. Your brother will need you then.”

  Beth caught Holly’s hand, shaken by what she had glimpsed for just a moment in the other woman’s eyes.

  “You could come here for Christmas and Thanksgiving,” Beth said fiercely.

  Holly forced a convincing professional smile onto her face. She had become very good at that in the last few months.

  “Don’t look so down in the mouth,” she said, touching Beth’s cheek lightly. “There’s always next summer for us to travel together.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just—who will you
spend those family times with?” Beth blurted.

  Wishing that Beth were old enough not to ask such questions, Holly replaced the girl’s hat with a firm tug.

  “Who’s the handsome man with you?” Holly asked.

  “You mean Linc?” Beth asked, confused.

  “No.”

  “Oh. Jack. I don’t think of him as a man. Not like Linc, anyway.”

  Holly felt her smile slipping. She knew better than Beth ever would how few men like Linc there were in the world.

  “Come on,” Beth said. “I want to introduce you. You never really got to meet Jack last time.”

  Fervently Holly wished she hadn’t driven so fast to Hidden Springs. If the others were here, she would have had an excuse to avoid Linc.

  As it was, she could run like a scared child or she could walk over there and pretend there was no reason not to talk to him.

  “Holly?”

  “Coming,” she said tightly.

  Beth took Holly’s hand and led her over to Jack. He saw them coming and dismounted.

  Linc did not.

  Holly felt a bittersweet relief that she wouldn’t have to stand close to him. She smiled and shook Jack’s hand, said polite, meaningless words, and wished that she had turned and run like the scared child she was.

  I can’t look at Linc, she realized too late. So close. So far away.

  The pressure of his presence was like the sun, burning Holly’s skin, melting her bones, making her dizzy for lack of cool air to breathe.

  “Aren’t you even going to say hello to Linc?” Beth asked.

  Holly turned and glanced at him with unfocused eyes, looking without really seeing.

  “Hello, Linc,” she said casually.

  There was a small silence.

  “I’ve missed you, niná.”

  The world dipped beneath her feet. Time fell away until she was nine again, standing on hot sand looking up at Linc, knowing somewhere deep inside herself that she would love this man and no other.

  But he wasn’t seventeen anymore, and she wasn’t nine.

  She stared up at him as though she had never seen him before. He was even more powerful than she had remembered. When his horse shifted restlessly, Linc’s shoulders blocked out the sun.

  Beneath the thick screen of lashes, his eyes searched Holly’s, looking for something they both had lost. His face was harder, thinner, drawn with the inner tension that radiated from him. Like a caged lion, he waited for . . . something.

  The saddle creaked as Sand Dancer shifted his weight.

  Suddenly Holly realized she had been staring up at Linc for much too long. She turned to say something casual to Beth or Jack or even the dog.

  No one was nearby.

  Beth, Jack, and Freedom had withdrawn somewhere, leaving Holly to face the ruins of her dream with no support, no shield, no place to hide. She was shocked at the depth of pain she felt in Linc’s presence. She had believed that she was beyond being hurt by Linc anymore.

  Now Holly knew with terrible finality that her capacity to be hurt by Linc was as great as her love for him. There was no end to her vulnerability.

  If he touched her, she would be destroyed. She didn’t have the strength to leave him again.

  He had called her niná.

  In the distance she heard the sounds of vehicles laboring over the last ridge to Hidden Springs.

  Holly didn’t know that she had turned and fled toward the caravan until she felt herself gasping for air beneath the hammer blows of the sun. She stopped abruptly, lungs aching as she fought for breath.

  The air was as harsh and dry as stone.

  The first Jeep came over the hill far more cautiously than Holly had. When Roger saw her standing in the road alone, breathing hard, he signaled the driver to stop.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Did your Jeep break down?”

  “No.”

  “Climb aboard,” he said, patting his lap.

  Instead, Holly climbed into the cluttered back seat and sat just behind him, ignoring his offer of a softer place to sit.

  “What’s wrong?” Roger asked, turning around.

  “Just thought I’d see what was taking you so long,” Holly said casually.

  He stared at her, then at the horse approaching the Jeep. And the rider.

  Lincoln McKenzie.

  “Did that cowboy—” Roger began harshly.

  “No,” she interrupted, her voice as hard as his.

  Roger said nothing more. He had learned when she took that tone of voice, there was no point in pursuing the subject.

  Linc reined in his horse next to the idling Jeep.

  “Hello, Roger,” he said. “How’s the rag trade?”

  Chills chased over Holly’s arms. Just the sound of his voice unnerved her. She refused to look higher than the stirrup that brushed against her side of the vehicle.

  Yet she couldn’t help noticing his sinuous power as he controlled the restless stallion. She couldn’t help remembering what it had felt like to knead Linc’s muscular leg, to test its resilience with teeth and tongue, to savor all the compelling differences of his masculinity.

  With a small sound she closed her eyes and looked at nothing at all.

  “Hello, McKenzie,” Roger said. “Beautiful Arabian.”

  “Yes,” Linc said.

  “I should have taken Shannon’s suggestion and arranged to use your horses for some shots.”

  “Holly suggested that?” Linc asked.

  There was more intensity in his voice than such a simple question required.

  Roger noticed it. He smiled slightly.

  It wasn’t a pretty smile.

  “Yes,” he said, “last year, when she first suggested using Hidden Springs.”

  “But not lately?” Linc asked, intensity fading.

  “No. In fact, Shannon nearly broke her contract rather than come here this time.”

  Silently Holly wished that Roger would shut up.

  “But she came,” her boss continued. “She’s a real pro.”

  “Yes,” Linc said in a neutral voice. “I know that her work means more to her than . . . anything.”

  Holly caught herself shaking her head in a despairing negative. She stopped, but not before the others saw.

  “Wrong,” Roger said, his voice clipped. “Shannon told me that if I didn’t behave, I could take my contract and tuck it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

  Linc’s smile was like lightning, white-hot and quick.

  Roger’s lips curled down.

  “Yes, I thought that would please you,” he said. “So I dragged Shannon back to you, though I doubt that you deserve her.”

  Holly gasped. Her eyes flew open.

  Linc was no less surprised.

  “Now,” Roger continued briskly, “if you will kindly wave your magic wand and put the light and laughter back in the Royce Reflection, I will get on with my business of selling rags.”

  “That’s enough,” Holly said.

  Her voice was brittle, balanced on the thin edge of breaking.

  “Too bloody right,” Roger retorted, turning to her. “Ever since you came back from Cabo San Lucas, you’ve been a shell of the beautiful—”

  “Just. Shut. Up!” Holly interrupted savagely.

  Roger said something very inelegant beneath his breath, but offered no more comments.

  She felt Linc’s intense glance, but refused to look at him.

  I knew coming back to Hidden Springs would be a mistake, she reminded herself.

  But she hadn’t realized how bad a mistake until now.

  “Did Holly warn you about snakes?” Linc asked as though nothing had happened.

  “Snakes?”

  Roger turned and looked at her.

  She shrugged impatiently.

  “I warned the technicians,” she said. “They’ll be the ones barging about in the underbrush. They should scare off any snakes that might be around.”

  “Might?” Linc
retorted sardonically. “You know damn well there are always rattlesnakes around the springs.”

  She shrugged again.

  “I won’t be the first one walking down any trail,” she said tightly, “so there’s no problem.”

  “What’s all this about rattlesnakes?” Roger demanded.

  Linc turned to the handsome designer.

  “If Holly gets nailed by a rattler,” Linc said coolly, “she’s dead where she stands.”

  “The hell you say! I was told the beggars weren’t that lethal.”

  “They aren’t, unless a big one gets you on the neck or you’re violently allergic to venom, like Holly. Then you are dead.”

  Linc spaced the last words carefully, so there could be no mistaking his meaning.

  Roger tapped the driver’s arm. “Turn around.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Holly snapped. “I stand a better chance of getting killed in a car wreck.”

  “The way you drove in here,” Linc said under his breath, “I believe it.”

  Roger looked doubtful.

  “You’re sure, Shannon?” he asked.

  “Quite.”

  Her voice, like her mouth, was inflexible. Roger hesitated, then sighed.

  “Right,” he said. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

  “Not yet,” Linc said flatly.

  The blunt command startled Holly. She looked up—and froze, held by the hazel clarity of his eyes.

  “After you’re finished working, niná, we’ll talk.”

  Holly’s mouth went dry.

  “No,” she said. “We don’t have anything new to say to each other.”

  But she was talking to herself.

  Linc had spun his horse and cantered away before the first word was out of her mouth.

  Twenty-six

  Holly was perched on a pile of boulders that was bigger than a house. Hands spread on the rough, hot surface for balance, she leaned against one particularly massive stone.

  Her fingernails gleamed with the color of a desert sunset. A matching color fired her lips. It was the cosmetics, not the clothes, that were being emphasized in this series of shots.

  “Over your right shoulder this time,” Jerry said.

  Knowing what the photographer needed, Holly turned her head with a sinuous motion that made her hair fly. She challenged the camera with her tawny eyes, her unsmiling lips, the perfect black curves of her eyebrows.

  “Catch Me If You Can” was the theme of the Desert Designs campaign. Holly was the essence of an elusive woman poised on the brink of flight.