by Janet Dailey
Giving up, she walked to the left and the horse willingly followed. The twisted, curving trail climbed up into the edges of the mountain. Rarely was Jacquie able to see beyond the next turn. She had no idea where she was going; she just hoped the horse did.
A large boulder forced the trail to bend around it, and on the other side, Jacquie stopped in surprise. Nestled in a pocket of the mountain slope was a sparkling pool of water, shaded on three sides by rising rock walls. The horse shouldered her forward.
There were animal tracks around the small pool. Tufts of grass grew near its edges. Jacquie watched the buckskin drink deeply from the water before she kneeled to scoop a small handful to her mouth. It was icy cold but sweet and wonderfully refreshing.
When she had slaked her thirst, she sat down by one of the walled sides, leaning against the rock face. The buckskin limped to the grass, his teeth tearing at the green blades. Now she at least had water.
But evening was nigh. She hummed the old song under her breath. It was hauntingly apt.
The western sky was on fire. The setting sun was crimsoning the sky with streaks of red and flame orange. Clouds purpled above its light while the desert reflected its burning glow. Jacquie had witnessed this sunset spectacle before. The cold stillness of approaching night had already invaded the land. Darkness would steal in quietly when the sun dipped below the horizon.
To leave the mountain pool when night was creeping in would be foolish. Here she had water and the horse had food even if she didn’t. She concentrated on the beauty of the sunset and tried not to think about the growling in her empty stomach or the dropping temperature.
She knew instinctively that Choya was out looking for her. Possibly she had been missed before she’d even known she was lost. She wished he would find her, but there was little chance of that, at least not before nightfall. He would search the lane and road first, with no idea of which way she’d gone and no logical way to puzzle it out. Her wandering had been utterly random. Logic had had nothing to do with it.
Lavender hues began to dominate the sky. It was twilight. The evening star twinkled dimly. Jacquie shivered at the chill in the air and hugged her arms around her middle. It would be dangerously cold tonight and her blouse sleeves offered almost no protection. She would have to tuck her arms inside the armholes of the down vest—it was big enough.
The buckskin lifted its head, its ears pricked toward the trail. Jacquie looked and saw nothing, but she could hear movement. She tensed. This was probably the only watering hole for miles. Maybe it was a wild animal coming for a drink. The buckskin’s sides heaved in a searching whinny.
His call was answered by the whicker of another horse, then Jacquie heard the creak of saddle leather. It had to be Choya. Hastily she scrambled to her feet, her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. Not more than five minutes ago she had been wishing he would find her. She knew he’d be angry and with good reason. Her carelessness could have gotten her badly injured or worse. The horse already was.
He rounded the boulder and heat flushed her cheeks. The sorrel horse halted and Choya sat silently in the saddle, his unwavering gaze locked on hers, his tawny eyes piercing like a golden arrow. Then his gaze shifted to the buckskin.
“Don’t say it,” Jacquie muttered angrily when its sharpness returned to her. “I know I did something stupid.”
“Were you trying to commit suicide?” His voice rolled out low, like thunder. “No food, no water, and obviously no matches or you would have a fire.”
She tossed her head back in a gesture of defiance. “I got tired of waiting for you. I decided to just ride around for a while. I wasn’t that far from the house.”
“Mind if I ask why?”
“I wanted to practice. It was clear and sunny when I started. But the land isn’t as flat as it looks.”
“No, it isn’t. And the clearest air plays tricks. The desert can fool you.”
“I didn’t realize that until I couldn’t see the ranch buildings anymore.”
“So you kept on going.”
His flat tone was grating. The romantic fantasy she’d entertained of him playing hero seemed ludicrous. A hero didn’t give lectures or point out how the heroine did everything wrong.
Even if she had. But it would be nice if he would just shut up—and hand over that warm jacket.
“Listen, Choya, I really didn’t plan on spending a December night out here,” she retorted. “I made a mistake. I know that’s not allowed but—”
“Jacquie, give it a rest.”
She shut up. What else could she do? She was still cold and miserable. “How did you find me?”
Choya swung effortlessly from the saddle. “A horse leaves tracks. I followed them.”
“I’m impressed,” Jacquie declared bitterly. “I might have made it back if Johnny hadn’t gone lame.”
Dropping the sorrel’s reins to the ground, Choya walked over to the buckskin and ran an exploring hand over the right front leg. Lifting the hoof, he reached into his pocket and took out something that looked like a knife. There was a scraping sound, then he released the hoof and the buckskin stood squarely on all four feet.
“There was a stone in his shoe,” he told Jacquie.
“That’s all?” She stared at him in disbelief. “That’s what made him limp? He isn’t really hurt?”
“I imagine his foot is a little sore right now,” Choya conceded. “Nothing worse than a slight bruise.”
If only she had known what was wrong. She felt bad for the horse. Her ignorance had hurt him. The thought made her angry with herself, which was followed by self-pity.
She stared at her rescuer as he walked toward her, tall and dark. The half light of dusk threw his angular features into sharp relief, accenting their ruggedness and the strong line of his mouth. He walked past her to the sorrel and pulled a rifle from the saddle scabbard.
Her turquoise eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
Choya cocked the rifle and pointed it into the air. He fired two shots fairly close together, paused and fired a third, then he returned his rifle to the scabbard and glanced at Jacquie.
“I’m signaling Sam that I found you,” he explained tersely.
“Can he hear that?” She frowned, wondering if she was closer to the house than she’d thought.
“Sound, especially a rifle shot, carries a long way in this country.” He moved to the leather pouches tied behind the saddle.
She didn’t know what he was doing. “Aren’t we going to head back?” she asked stiffly.
Unfastening one side of the pouch, Choya glanced at the fading golden light of the western horizon. “Not now. The trail is too difficult to follow in the dark.”
“Do you mean we have to stay here all night?” Jacquie breathed with alarm.
“That’s exactly what I mean.” He removed a packet of sandwiches from the saddlebag and tossed it to her. “You might as well eat while I start a fire.”
His grimness as he began gathering sticks from the surrounding brush bordered on a kind of anger that Jacquie found difficult to fathom. It made her even more tense, although she was grateful he’d rode out to rescue her. But each passing minute added to the electrically charged feeling that crackled between them.
Despite her hunger, she could only eat one sandwich. She set the others aside for Choya. A small campfire was blazing as night drew its curtain over the sunset.
With that accomplished, he unsaddled the buckskin, setting the saddle and blanket near Jacquie. Taking the lariat from his saddle horn, he strung a picket line for both horses, then unsaddled his own.
His continued silence was unnerving. Teasing, even making fun of her multiple mistakes she could have handled, but not this. Her nerves were already frayed. When he set his saddle on the ground near hers, her control snapped.
“Well, here we are, Choya.” Her voice trembled hoarsely. “What a fiasco. My first ride into your damn desert is going to be my last. I don’t belong here. I should n
ever have said yes to you.”
His jaw tightened forbiddingly. “Maybe not. And you’re right about not belonging here. You don’t. I know this isn’t the kind of place a woman can be happy. I went through something like this once before and I swore I never would again.”
“What?” She was baffled by his words and his anger.
“I’m not going to get into it, Jacquie. Not now. Not ever. You don’t need to know my whole damn life story. Let bygones be bygones.” His voice was raw with bitterness.
He didn’t look at her. The saddlebags were draped over his shoulder. He swung them down and opened one flap, towering above her, a dark silhouette against the campfire. He removed a small square object and held it out to her.
“This is yours,” he said gruffly.
Fighting tears of frustration that he had failed again even to reply, Jacquie scrambled to her feet. Impatiently she took the object he held out to her. Her lips parted to forcefully repeat her demand, but words failed her for a few seconds as the familiar shape of the object got her attention.
She gazed at it in disbelief. “M-my wallet!”
“Yes, it is,” was the low response.
Hurriedly she opened it. Nothing was missing, as far as she could tell. “My money—it’s all here.” She raised her head, trying to see his face in the flickering firelight. “Where did you get it?” Then a chilling thought struck her. “You had it all the time, didn’t you?” she accused.
“No!” Choya snapped and breathed in deeply, almost angrily. “Of course I didn’t,” he added in a calmer voice.
Something in his expression made Jacquie doubt his answer. “Then where did it come from?” she challenged. “How did you get it?”
“From Robbie.”
“Robbie?” She echoed the boy’s name in shock. “How did he get it?”
“The day you spilled all that stuff in your purse on the sidewalk, he stuck the wallet inside his shirt,” he said grimly. “He didn’t want you to leave, remember?”
Jacquie nodded.
“He decided if he took your wallet you wouldn’t have any money to buy gas for your car.”
“Let alone pay for the repairs,” she added with a short, ironic laugh. “So Robbie’s had it all this time.”
“He’s been keeping it in his secret hiding place in the barn.”
She raked a weary hand through her long hair, flipping it back to stream over her shoulders. “No wonder he didn’t want to show me his hiding place,” she murmured. Tears shimmered jewel bright in her eyes. “What made him decide to give it to you?”
“When I came back to the ranch this afternoon and discovered you and the horse were gone, Robbie was with me. He was half crazy with fear that you were hurt or lost. And for some crazy reason he thought that you might’ve run away,” Choya stated. “So, using kid logic, he decided that if he gave the wallet back, I would find you safe and sound, otherwise something terrible would happen to you.”
She wanted to cry but she managed—just barely—not to. All of this had happened to her because a little boy hadn’t wanted her to leave him. Hiding her wallet had triggered the entire chain of events that had brought her to the ranch, kept her there, and made her fall for Choya. Of course, she hadn’t fallen in love. Her experience was more like jumping off an emotional cliff just to see what it felt like. Big thrill, bad result.
Dipping her chin, she closed her eyes briefly against the rush of pain. Then she raised her head to gaze into his shadowed face.
“I thought I would feel so happy if the wallet was returned. But I’m not.”
“Don’t tell Robbie that. The kid’s confused enough as it is. And he’s scared,” Choya began in harsh quietness. “Damn it, Jacquie—why are you—don’t cry, okay? Just don’t.”
“I can’t help it!” Jacquie told him, swallowing a sob. “I don’t want him to be scared and wondering if I still like him and if I’m going to stay when I’m not!”
The words brought a fresh flood of tears down her cheeks that stung in the freezing night air. Her shoulders shuddered with involuntary, silent sobs. Choya stood in front of her.
“At least you care—about him.” The savageness in his tone wasn’t directed at her. “Don’t sweat it, Jacquie. And forget about Christmas. That was the biggest mistake of all. I wanted you here for Robbie’s sake, but it’s only one day out of the year, right?”
He took a hesitant step forward. His hands closed lightly over her shoulders to draw her against him. Jacquie tried weakly to push him away but racking sobs made her efforts puny. He gathered her close to his chest, rocking her gently in his arms.
Her cries were muffled by his shirt. Indifferently she was aware of the comforting hand stroking her silken hair. She clung to him, feeling like a lost lamb being welcomed back to the fold.
His dark head bent near hers, and gently he kissed her tear-drenched lashes and wet cheeks. When his mouth found hers, it carried the salty taste of her own tears.
His kiss breathed warmth and strength into her. Under its reviving spell, life flowed back into her. Jacquie’s arms wrapped around his neck, but he disentangled them. His strong arms lowered her to the ground and a blanket was thrown over her. She shivered underneath it, wishing he would come to her. He wouldn’t.
“Go to sleep,” Choya ordered.
The buckskin stamped the ground restlessly, as Jacquie watched Choya walk to the opposite side of the campfire. He might as well have walked to the other side of the moon.
Her lashes fluttered. Something was wrong. There was no soft mattress beneath her. No pillow cushioned her head. There was only hard, uncomfortable ground beneath her and the frosty chill of a December dawn in the desert around her. The memory of her futile attempt to find her way back to the ranch put the strange surroundings in perspective.
Jacquie opened her eyes, propping herself up on one elbow to look for Choya. He was over by the horses. Her frightened expression softened, then her muscles protested stiffly as she forced herself to her feet.
The buckskin was saddled and Choya was tightening the cinch on his sorrel. At her movement, he flicked a brief glance in her direction. The touch of his gaze was like a splash of cold water and she froze. The metallic gold eyes had as much warmth in them as the ashes of the dead campfire. She shuddered uncontrollably.
“Good morning.” His indifferent greeting pierced her heart.
“Looks like it’s going to be a nice day,” Jacquie said stiffly.
With the reins of both horses in his hand, he walked toward her. The boldly masculine features were drawn in an aloof expression.
He handed her the buckskin’s reins. “It’s a long ride back,” he said briskly. “We’d better get started.”
“Yes,” she agreed, keeping her misery out of her voice. She mounted quickly before he saw the agonizing pain in her eyes.
As she pointed her horse toward the narrow trail, Choya called her name. She halted the buckskin and waited, her shoulders rigidly squared. He reined his sorrel even with her mount.
“Here.” In his sun-browned hand was the metal ring with her car keys.
“How did you—”
“That’s why I was late yesterday. I went to town to get your car. Brad and his buddy helped me out. One drove, one followed in his car, I drove the jeep. They went back together.”
“Oh.” In a stronger voice, she began to question his decision. “But why—”
“You know,” he interrupted her, “the second you and I are alone, no matter where we are, we start fighting.”
“That’s not true,” she protested weakly.
He shook his head in firm disagreement. “The right thing to do is not to drag this out. You shouldn’t have tried to persuade yourself otherwise. I did some serious thinking last night, Jacquie. I didn’t sleep. I’m exhausted. I’ve had it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “Sorry about everything, I mean.”
“Don’t be. It just isn’t going to work. We both know it.”
Her wondering eyes asked the question she couldn’t voice: Are you sure?
“I’m sure. Let’s get it over with, Jacquie.”
She shoved the keys in the pocket of her jeans and kicked the buckskin’s flanks, moving him out ahead of Choya.
Not another word was exchanged during the entire ride. The crushing silence ripped at her heart until it was in shreds by the time they reached the ranch yard. Her chin was quivering traitorously as she dismounted beside the corral. Unable to risk a glance at Choya, she dropped the reins and started for the house, leaving him to take care of the horses.
Robbie was racing across the yard toward her at a reckless pace. A grin of eager welcome was splitting his face from ear to ear. Sam Barnett was hobbling after him with his cane.
Standing stock-still, Jacquie waited for Robbie to reach her. Her head pounded with dread, knowing that his happiness about her return wasn’t going to last. Choya’s long strides were carrying him toward her.
“Jacquie! Jacquie! You’re back!” Robbie cried in delight. When he would have hurled himself at her, Choya intercepted him, swinging him off his feet and straddling him on one hip. The boy readily transferred his affectionate greeting from Jacquie to his father. “You found her and brought her back, Dad! I knew you would! I just knew it!”
“Why aren’t you in school?” Choya cast a sideways frown at Sam.
“I was waiting for Jacquie.” Robbie beamed at her.
Sam shuffled forward, leaning heavily on his cane. “He refused to go until he’d seen Jacquie for himself. He was darned near makin’ himself sick over it. There wasn’t much else I could do but let him see she was all right,” he said, giving the explanation that Choya had silently demanded.
“I was afraid something would happen, and Jacquie and you wouldn’t ever come back,” Robbie added his fervent words to his grandfather’s. His expression became suddenly apologetic. “I’m sorry about your wallet, Jacquie. I wasn’t going to keep it. I was going to give it back to you. I only took it because I wanted you to stay.”
