by K C West
Chapter 1
“This old Tracker has seen better days,” I said, as PJ and I drove beneath an arch of antlers the previous owner had erected over the entrance to my home, our home now, in Northern New Mexico. The ranch had been a steal, really. The previous owner, a cranky old so and so, had been forced to sell due to financial problems.
“It’s not as though you’ve treated it gently,” PJ said, referring to the Tracker. “And that old Jeep you keep up here is in even worse condition, if that’s possible.”
“That old thing was here when I bought the place. I think it’s a World War II relic. It’s not even registered.” We bounced over the rutted dirt road that led to the ranch house.
“You’re hard on vehicles. You drive them into places that are better fit for mountain goats. And the poor Tracker was taxed to the limit when we were in Arizona for the Amazon Expedition.”
I pulled to the side of the road to let the dust settle and gave her a sideways glance, momentarily overcome with emotion. Memories of our first meeting in the Superstition Mountains came flooding back. Our personalities had clashed early, but we’d managed to find mutual respect and friendship which grew into love. We’d never expected that, but we’d certainly found plenty of adventure and danger to go along with our romantic partnership. What had I ever done to deserve the love of this fantastic woman?
PJ gave me a puzzled look. “What are you smiling about?”
“I’m just remembering how we met, fell in love instantly, and went on to have great adventures together.”
She shook her head. “You’ve got a few brain cells missing if that’s how you recall it. I think I threw a shoe at the mirror in my motel after my first meeting with you. I was that furious.”
“Really? I never heard about that.”
“You thought I’d seduced your precious protege. Does that refresh your memory?”
“Oh, that. I was afraid Sandy would be no match for your womanly wiles. Little did I know that I, not he, would succumb to your charms.”
“More revisionist theories. How did you ever become a world renowned archaeologist with such flawed observational skills?”
“I was obsessed with locating the Amazon tribe. I didn’t have time for a love life, especially not after my previous partner had dropped me like a bad habit.”
PJ averted her gaze from me to her passenger side window. “Let’s not bring up Terry Simms right now. I’m trying to enjoy this beautiful scenery.”
“Sorry.”
After what I’d been through with Terry during our tempestuous time together and after Terry had nearly raped PJ when we were on assignment in Wales, I had to agree. The scenery was a much safer topic. PJ and I had experienced several dangerous and mysterious adventures after finding Marna and Leeja’s remains at that dig site in Arizona. I had known their names from dreams that had haunted me for years during my search. They’d touched our lives in ways we’d never imagined and continued to influence us today. For better or worse, our relationship would include Amazon spirit guides as well as delightful escapes to some of the most beautiful country in the world.
As archaeologists we investigated past civilizations, but PJ and I never expected to go back to a time when we could actually meet and talk to ancestors of our present day discoveries. Our most recent trip to the Greek island of Lesvos had provided such an encounter. We’d also renewed our friendship with my former student, Peter Arnold, or Sandy, as he was known to all his friends. He’d found treasure and Irini Thanos, the love of his life, on the island.
“Okay, Kim. I know New Mexico is the Land of Enchantment and all that, but there’s only so much scenery we can admire before we need to get down to business.”
I put the Tracker back on the road to the sprawling adobe ranch house. “I was just thinking about our trip to Greece. Sandy and Irini fell in love. Your father and Susanna got married. It was a special time for all of us.”
“Sandy and Irini haven’t set a date yet, but I bet it won’t be long before we go back there for a wedding.” PJ’s eyes glistened when she looked at me. “Dad and my former psychiatrist. Who would have imagined that? Those sneaks. I love them both, and I’m so happy that Dad has Sue in his life now. He’d been so lonesome after Mom died.”
PJ was just a teenager then and both she and Frederick had been devastated. Unfortunately, they grew apart from each other in their grief. Frederick threw himself into his shipping business, amassing a fortune, but paying a hefty price by neglecting his only child. For many years, PJ lived without the love and attention of either parent. They’d mended their estrangement now and PJ welcomed Susanna, or Sue as she’d come to call her, as a true family member.
PJ and I had experienced plenty of highs and lows in our short relationship. I had no idea how our lives as ranch owners would turn out, but I was certain of two things. We’d never be too bored and I’d never stop loving this beautiful, vibrant woman.
The Tracker made a grating sound as it hit a rough rise in the road and I was reminded of our earlier conversation about my use of vehicles.
“What the heck was that noise?”
“Just a small objection to a nasty stretch, honey. Don’t worry. The Tracker has been through much worse. It’ll survive.”
“Have you looked at it lately? It’s lost a lot of its luster.”
“I don’t keep vehicles to have them sit around and look pretty.”
“That’s for sure. One of these days I’m going to buy you a tank.”
“Very funny.”
We bumped over the top of the last hill. There, below us, was our private spread.
PJ put her hand on my thigh and I covered her hand with my own.
“It’s good to be home to stay this time,” I said softly.
“It is, isn’t it? We’ve had only short visits before, and then repair projects took all our energy. This will be home now. Our home. We’ll have our hands full, though. Plenty of renovations still to do.”
“We’ll tackle them as the budget allows.” I patted her hand.
“You know that budget could be stretched, if you’d just let me help.”
“Haven’t we had this conversation before, honey?”
She blew out a breath. “Yes. And it always ends badly. I don’t want to argue about it, but you know I have money to use for whatever we need.”
“And you know that I don’t want to use it. At least not now and not so much. We do what needs to be done to make the place safe and comfortable first. Some of the work we can do on our own, and some we’ll hire people to do, but on a budget.”
“You have work to do here beside repairs, though.”
“If you mean my part of the book that Glenna Rhoderick’s working on, that’s coming along.” Dr. Rhoderick was a respected anthropologist who had asked me to contribute a chapter for a book she was writing about ancient women world leaders. I was sharing my notes and expertise on the Amazon warriors of history and legend. “Are you feeling neglected by my working with Glenna on that project?”
“You and she do have long phone conversations and you’ve made a few trips to Denver to discuss things.”
“Do I hear a bit of jealousy in your voice?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do I have anything to be jealous about?”
“Of course not. The work’s purely professional. Glenna had some health problems recently and she’s not been able to use her wrist to do the typing. Some sort of tendon damage, I think she said. Anyway, she’s had to wear a cast and it restricts her ability to use her computer. We talk things out on the phone, and I do the typing when she can’t. That’s all it is, PJ.”
“Okay. I believe you and I trust you.”
I kissed her. “Good.”<
br />
“So it’s just neglect I’m feeling.”
Her grin convinced me she was kidding, but I resolved to devote a bit more attention to her, just in case.
“Don’t you have some writing of your own to do?” I reminded her. “This Amazon destiny journal stuff?”
“I’m waiting for guidance on that subject. Grandmother, the old shaman from the Greek Amazon village, is supposed to give me more instructions on what to write and how we go about finding present-day Amazons.”
“Ah, yes. Our mission these days is to find more of the Amazon Nation and help to reunite all of them.”
“And that includes us. We’re part of the Amazon Nation now, though I still can’t quite believe that.”
We slithered sideways over some loose rock. “First thing I have to do is have this road graded and graveled. I don’t want any city folk coming in to visit the wildlife preserve and getting into an accident.”
PJ stretched up to kiss me on the cheek.
“What was that all about?”
“Just letting you know how much I love you.”
“I love you too. More than anything or anybody.”
“And just think, we’re coming home with that lawsuit all resolved.”
I’d become angry with an aggressive photographer at Logan Airport when we flew to Greece, and I’d broken his camera lens. He’d slapped a lawsuit on me.
“That pushy guy was out to make a bundle,” PJ continued, “but Dad’s lawyers cut him off at the knees and kicked him to the curb.”
“They awarded him replacement cost for his camera and one hundred dollars instead of the fifty thousand he claimed were psychological damages.” I was more than pleased with the outcome. “I’m surprised that his lawyers didn’t put up more of a fight, though.”
“They were smart enough to realize that he’d overstepped his bounds as a reporter, and they were up against a powerful legal team.”
“I’m sure glad they were on my side.”
PJ appeared to be lost in thought, so we drove the final stretch to the ranch house in silence. It stood facing a sun-drenched valley with panoramic views of the Sangre de Cristo Mountain Range. The back of the house nestled into the closest of the foothills, making it ideally located - our own Shangri-la, where PJ and I could grow old together.
“You did a pretty cool thing, Kim.”
“What’s that?”
“Deeding all this acreage to the Wildlife Conservation Organization in Pup’s name.”
At the sound of his name, our half-wolf, half-German Shepherd stuck his head between the seats. He enjoyed racing around this place, sniffing all the new scents, considering it his personal territory and guarding it accordingly. I don’t think he was at all impressed that it was now called The Pup Wildlife Refuge.
He and I had been together since my days at the University of Arizona and he had helped make my life less lonely until a certain blonde beauty stole my heart. Pup had extended his protection and love to both of us, expecting little in return.
“I wasn’t running stock on that area or anything, so I figured I may as well put it to good use. It’s too beautiful not to share.”
“I’m glad you’re keeping the immediate area of the house off-limits, though, so we’ll still have our privacy.”
“That was the deal. We live here for the rest of our lives. Afterwards, in addition to what they already have, they get this section of the valley and the ranch house. They can use the house and out buildings as a visitor center and museum, if they like.”
“Perhaps even a lodge for scientists working in the area.”
“That, too. It’s a sweet deal for them and us, and it keeps our memory alive after we’re gone.”
We stepped out of the vehicle and let Pup out to explore. PJ pointed to a pair of eagles gliding majestically above us. I felt a slight breeze caress my cheek, a harbinger of fall and the chill that signaled the coming of winter. Soon the eagles would be gone, withdrawing to the south in search of a warmer climate.
“We’re home,” PJ said, coming around the Tracker to stand beside me. We slipped our arms around each other’s waists and filled our lungs with the fresh air.
I gazed at the mountains and the valley in which we stood. “They’re right, you know.”
“Who?”
“Visitors to New Mexico.”
“What are they right about?”
“The light. It has a different quality here in New Mexico than it does anywhere else.” I squinted against its clarity. “That’s why so many artists and photographers settle in Taos and Santa Fe.”
“Georgia O’Keeffe for one.”
“I believe you’re right.”
We broke apart and started toward the house. “Looks like Jasper and Marianne have opened up the house for us,” I said.
“Honey, Marianne really prefers to be called Little Bird. It’s her Navajo name.”
“I know. I guess I should get in the habit of calling her that, but referring to a two hundred pound, tough-as-leather woman as Little Bird isn’t easy.”
“I realize you’ve known Jasper and Little Bird longer than I have,” PJ said.
“True. They worked for the previous owner and agreed to stay on when I bought the ranch about six years ago.”
“Jasper and I are still a little awkward around each other.”
“You’re not a westerner, PJ. He needs a bit more time to get used to you.”
“Little Bird and I have had a chance to talk about cooking and housekeeping. She’s really as gentle as a little bird.”
“Speak of the devil.” I pointed down the road we’d just covered.
A battered, faded black Ford pickup rattled to a stop alongside the Tracker. Jasper, a wiry, gray-haired man climbed down from the truck. His legs were bowed from riding horseback, but there was still plenty of spring in his step.
“Welcome home!” His voice was raspy, but commanding. I thought of all the years he must have spent hollering at cattle, squinting into the sun, searching for strays, which had given him permanently bloodshot eyes. “Wife’s got food done up, and she’s gotten the ranch all neat and tidy for you.”
The passenger side door creaked open, and Little Bird struggled out with a foil covered glass dish. “I knew you girls would be hungry when you arrived, so I fixed a casserole.”
Although she was my age, she still insisted on referring to us as girls.
“Thank you, Little Bird. It’s good to be back. This time, we intend to stay awhile.”
“Yaa’ eht’ eeh, Little Bird,” PJ said.
“Greetings to you, too.” By the expression on Little Bird’s face, she was amused, but pleased, with PJ’s attempt to use a few Navajo words.
PJ took the dish. “You folks talk all you want. I’m hungry.”
“All you have to do,” Little Bird said, as she and PJ headed for the house, “is put it in the oven for about forty minutes at three-hundred-and-fifty degrees.”
Pup bounded further away to renew his acquaintance with old haunts while I engaged Jasper in a discussion about the condition of the road in from the highway. I asked him to get some figures on having it graded and graveled.
“You’d best wait awhile, least ‘til spring,” he said. “No reason we can’t make plans, though.”
By the time he and Little Bird left for their nearby home, PJ had lunch in the oven and the table set. We spent the rest of the day and part of the evening unpacking and planning for future improvements to the ranch. Tired, but happy, we showered together, tumbled into bed, and made long, lingering love before drifting off to sleep.
*
The next morning, I snuggled closer to Kim, reluctant to leave the cocoon of our queen sized bed.
“As exciting as tent life, cave camping, and even our weekend in that wonderful Greek villa were,” I whispered against her ear, “there’s nothing to compare with coming home.”
“Even if it’s still being renovated?” Kim’s fingers roamed about
under my T-shirt, coming to rest on my stomach.
“Yes. Of course, our bedroom is almost perfect. Once we get those blinds hung and order the rugs for in - ”
“PJ, sweetheart, we’ve discussed this already. Our budget will not allow further expenditures for that yet.” We turned to view each other eye-to-eye.
“The plumbing and heating come first, then the repairs to the roof, and eventually the back porch. This old ranch - ”
“ - was in dire need of repair when you bought it. You’ve mentioned that a few times already.” Our fingers intertwined. “But you know I’m only too happy to help remedy the situation. Just say the word, and the money is yours.”
I felt Kim’s body tense and her lips tightened to a flat line. Money was always a problem. Her resistance was a wall between us. Pride and stubbornness were honorable traits in moderation in most human beings. My partner had more than her fair share. I could make her life so much easier. I wanted to do it for her, for us. I loved her. Couldn’t she see that? This was to be my home, too.
“Can we change the subject?”
“I’m sorry. Yes, let’s talk about something else.” I paused to think of something far from house remodeling. “What did you think about the first board meeting? Are we going to survive as Dad’s representatives at the Curtis Foundation now that he’s stepping away from so much of it?”
“Honestly, I think I preferred working with the Foundation to secure grants for my expeditions. I’ve always admired how much the people there wanted to preserve archaeological sites and help with the research necessary. I’d never really wanted to see who was doing the bickering and fighting about how the funds were allocated.”
“Mmm. That was a revelation, wasn’t it? We were the youngest ones there and even though I’ve known Malcolm Goodrich since I was a toddler, I’d never realized how ponderous his leadership abilities were. We’re going to be as fossilized as those old men and women board members if we have to keep going back.”
Kim laughed. “Those two aides they gave us were anything but fossilized, though.”
“Oh, don’t remind me.”
“Lawrence what’s-his-face.”
“Peterson. He wasn’t so bad. Cute actually.”
