To Santa With Love

by Janet Dailey

  “If she wants to. I can’t force her to make that choice. Besides, you’ve done that drive and so have I, more times than either of us can count. It wears you out.”

  Sam leveled a fierce look at his son. “Why don’t you let her try?”

  That blunt question hit home. Choya got up and paced the room without answering for a couple of minutes.

  Sam took the chance to sit down gingerly in the swivel chair his son had vacated, and examined the documents again, just for something to do. “Looks like the shaft buildings won’t be visible from the house. They’re proposing to drill way out there in the north section.” He propped up the geologist’s survey. “That’s good. I don’t want anything to get in the way of the sunset.”

  Choya muttered something noncommittal in reply. His father stretched out his long legs under the desk and folded his arms across his chest again.

  “Of course, I may not be living on this ranch forever,” the older man said idly.

  Choya turned to him. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m gettin’ old—really old. And I’ve been thinkin’ it could be time for me to move closer to town.”

  “Nothing doing.” Choya was genuinely surprised. “This is your home.”

  “I know that. But it’s going to be yours. And if you two are goin’ to marry, Jacquie oughta feel that it’s hers too. She won’t want to dust around me while I nap.”

  Choya gave a snort. “In case you haven’t noticed, she doesn’t think dusting is a big thrill.”

  Sam made a wry face. “Mebbe so. But I think you understand me, son.”

  Choya held up a hand like a stop sign. “You’re not moving anywhere. With all this money about to come in, we could add a whole new wing if we wanted to.”

  His father shook his head. “My grandfather built this house right the first time. Let’s not mess with it.”

  “So what’s the solution?” Choya asked with evident annoyance. “Either we move out or you do?”

  “Don’t you think you oughta marry her before anyone does any moving?” Sam asked sagely. “The way I see it, you gotta take charge of the situation. Let her know you’d do anything for her, but be a man about it. If you want her to stay on the ranch, you’d damn well better make it worth her while.”

  “I just told you”—Choya broke off abruptly—“this conversation is going in circles.”

  Sam only laughed. “So it is. Meeting adjourned,” he declared. “I’m turning in.” He picked up the cane from near the desk and walked slowly to the door, opening it. “See you in the morning.”

  Jacquie heard the study door and then the slow thump of the cane. She closed her eyes, not quite ready to wake up all the way. Sam went his way to his bedroom and Choya came in, standing in front of her and looking down.

  “You asleep, Jacquie?”

  She gave him a drowsy smile as she opened her eyes again. “Not anymore. I was, though.”

  “Sorry to take so long. My dad and I needed to talk,” he said quietly, sitting down again. “I wanted to go over the Tucson meeting with him while it was still fresh in my mind.”

  Jacquie kept the afghan drawn tightly around her and didn’t reply.

  Choya studied her for a long minute. “You cold?” She nodded. “Stay here. I’ll fix the fire.”

  He stood up and strode to the fireplace, going down on one knee to get the blaze roaring again, wielding the iron poker with practiced skill and blowing where it counted. A black shadow against the upward rush of sparks and flame, his broad-shouldered body looked powerful and mysterious. If only they had a bed to themselves, she thought naughtily, and he was bending over her just like that . . . the thought scorched her soul with remembered pleasure.

  He straightened, getting to his feet but standing where he was, facing the fireplace to warm his outstretched hands.

  “That’ll do it,” he said softly as he turned to her. His rugged features were in shadow but she could see the golden gleam in his eyes. Jacquie kept the afghan draped over herself as he crossed to her and sat.

  Choya didn’t waste any time. She felt his lips brush her hair and then his hands slipped under the afghan and around her waist, drawing her close to him. His caress held all the heat of the fire, and her instinctive response was to arch against him.

  He seized his chance, and his mouth covered hers, gently opening her lips to taste her sweetness, triggering ardent desire. She half-yielded and half-struggled. “We can’t,” she whispered when he let her go.

  “I know. But I want to,” was his growled answer.

  “Choya—stop. We’re not really alone.”

  He made no answer, just moved his mouth to the side of her neck, nipping the silky, heated skin of her neck and moving lower still as he tugged her shirt out of her jeans. Urgently, his exploring hand moved beneath it and up over her ribs, stopping—but only for a second—when he touched her bra.

  Front clasp. He flicked it open.

  Jacquie’s fingers reached into his thick, dark hair and held his head. He kissed her as he cupped one bare breast, then the other, caressing her with sensual expertise until he made her arch against him again.

  A sound outside the living room put an end to the heated embrace. He raised his head and listened, then smiled slightly. “It’s just the wind.” But the momentary pause gave her a chance to collect her wits, even though she didn’t want to.

  Jacquie sat up straight and wriggled away, pulling down her shirt and yanking the afghan around her like soft armor. Her arms were crossed underneath it when he reached for her again. “Nothing doing,” she murmured. “We can’t get caught.”

  “Don’t you want to—”

  “You know the answer to that,” she said almost fiercely. Jacquie rose, tossed the afghan at him to keep his hands busy and made it out of the living room, not looking back. She entered the bedroom and firmly closed the door. A deal was a deal—even though the terms of theirs seemed to change every time she turned around. She leaned her back against the solid wood. She didn’t hear him following her.

  The problem was, she wanted him to. Desperately.

  Breakfast the next morning was as wholesome as a TV ad for frozen waffles, only there weren’t any waffles. The winter sun streamed in, brightening the table, set with a pitcher of orange juice and another of milk, and plates that replaced Robbie’s unfinished bowl of cereal. Choya sat on his side of the table, freshly shaved in a clean shirt, and she sat on hers, already dressed and buttoned up in more ways than one. Silence prevailed, broken only by a polite request for the buttered toast and scrambled eggs she’d prepared and the salt shaker. They both had excellent appetites, as if they had spent the night doing exactly what they’d wanted to do instead of sleeping apart.

  Sam was still asleep and Robbie had been escorted to the bus. It was the last day of school remaining before the Christmas break, and the kids were restless, bouncing in their seats as the bus pulled away, despite the driver’s shout to sit down and shut up.

  “So,” he said in a level voice as he took his plate to the sink, “I was wondering if you’d like to ride out with me today. I have to look over the land to the north—it has to do with the business deal that Sam and I are working on,” he added.

  “Oh.” She was somewhat taken aback by the offer, but nodded her agreement. Anything to get out of working on her college application forms. She still hadn’t worked up the nerve to send the financial aid questionnaire to her father. “All right. Why not?”

  Her tepid response actually seemed to encourage him. “Meet you at the barn in a half hour then,” he said briskly. He walked to the front door, grabbing his denim jacket and Stetson on the way.

  Jacquie finished up in the kitchen and put on warmer clothes. She was getting used to the sudden changes in desert weather—in minutes, the brilliant morning sunlight had faded away, covered by fast-rolling clouds that formed a gray ceiling over the land.

  But the clouds were high and there was no moisture in the air. C
hoya wouldn’t head out if he thought rain was imminent—he didn’t take chances like that. He’d instructed her on the dangers of flash floods and other unexpected things that happened in the desert.

  She was grateful for the opportunity to ride with him. She hadn’t ventured out alone on horseback since her unintentional expedition into the mountains, although she had more confidence in her ability now. All three of the Barnetts, each in his own way, had taught her everything they knew about horses and riding.

  When she got to the barn, Choya was coming out, leading both horses, saddled and ready. He didn’t say anything about the weather, just looped the buckskin’s reins around a fence post and led Apache to her. So she would be on the palomino, she thought nervously. Apache was a beautiful horse but that didn’t mean he would tolerate a rider he didn’t know.

  “You’ll be fine,” Choya said. Had he read her mind?

  Without further comment, he helped her mount, sliding a strong hand around her waist and half-lifting her with no effort. Her bottom slid over the curved leather and her boot toes moved into the stirrups as if she’d been riding all her life. Choya nodded approval and walked to Johnnycake, swinging up and into his saddle as she waited for him, patting Apache’s arched neck.

  The wind lifted his pale mane, blowing it straight to one side over her hand. She lifted it, trying to control her own flyaway locks, and looped the reins over the saddle horn to search in her pocket for a scrunchie. Jacquie quickly whipped her hair into a ponytail and sat up straight again.

  Choya was watching her with a faint smile.

  Embarrassed, she wheeled Apache around so she wouldn’t have to look at him. He went ahead.

  The horses lifted their velvet noses, inhaling the crisp tang of the desert in winter, glad to be out and going somewhere even though clouds had covered the sun. Choya led the way, down a previously invisible trail she’d never noticed—but then it could only be seen by someone on a horse.

  Johnnycake and Apache moved at a brisk trot over the low rises and shallow valleys of the ranch land. She surveyed it with renewed interest, wondering exactly how big the ranch was. Then she remembered being lost in it and how she’d not even known that she was lost until the mountains seemed to swallow her up.

  She urged Apache forward, catching up with the man on horseback ahead of her. He rode as though he’d been in the saddle from babyhood—which was undoubtedly the case. But Choya radiated physical confidence no matter what he was doing.

  “How far are we going?” she called to him. The cold wind snatched the words from her mouth and conveyed them to Choya. Her cheeks were flushed from the brisk ride—the open air was exhilarating.

  “Another mile or so,” he called back, barely turning his head to answer.

  She settled down again, letting the horse make his way, relaxing into the rhythm of Apache’s easygoing gait. After a while, she saw a handful of ramshackle structures in the near distance. They turned out to be several shacks of various sizes, not as close together as they’d seemed from afar but bigger, with large holes in their slanted roofs and missing planks from the sides, lying on the hard ground exactly where’d they fallen.

  Clearly, the shacks had never been meant for living in or storage. Drawing closer, she noticed unfamiliar pieces of rusty machinery left out in the open and guessed that the tumbledown shacks covered tunnels into the earth. Choya had reined in Johnnycake and was circling the shacks when she and Apache reached him.

  “Mineshafts,” he said. The curt explanation was offered as if she already knew all about them. “Drilled and abandoned. The pure copper deposits didn’t reach this far, or so it was believed back then.”

  Jacquie looked curiously at the shacks as her horse stamped and whickered softly to Choya’s mount. “Oh. And now?” He had obviously brought her out here for a reason—he’d wanted to tell her that much. There was something going on that had to do with this godforsaken area, unspecified business that he’d discussed with his father last night.

  She didn’t really care. The shacks were depressing to look at and the rusted machinery was almost scary. It spoke of long ago, and vanished men whose efforts to wrest treasure from the earth had failed.

  Dallas had never felt farther away than at that moment—the desolate landscape was utterly devoid of other structures. Jacquie felt her horse shift uneasily beneath her. Apache was spooked by the place too.

  “But a mining company is negotiating a long-term lease on the land.”

  She nodded and tried to look interested. “I take it they pay for the privilege.”

  “Yup. You got that right. A couple of the ranchers with spreads next to ours are negotiating too. We’ll all get a better deal that way.”

  “Why is that?”

  Choya warmed to his subject. “Because mineral deposits don’t respect boundaries. They can run for miles underground or stop short.”

  “How many acres do you own?” She was curious about that. It occurred to her that she’d never once seen a fence on her occasional journeys through his land. It seemed to go on and on.

  “About five thousand.”

  “Oh. That sounds like a lot.” She looked around at the endless vista of scrub and rocks. “At least you don’t have to mow, right?”

  “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  “So what stage are you at with this?”

  “Me and Sam—and the other ranchers I mentioned—are on the verge of signing contracts. We’ve been meeting with the company representatives for a while.”

  Jacquie hadn’t paid that much attention to his comings and goings. It was a little strange to think of so much hidden wealth beneath this unforgiving land.

  “Anyway, I just wanted you to see this so you know what’s going on,” he said.

  She actually was interested by now. “Thanks. Keep me posted. As you can see, I know zip about the subject.”

  “You’ll learn. Things are happening fast. The company reps play it close to the vest, but we all know there’s serious interest in this area for miles around. A couple of played-out mines closer to the Dragoons just got opened up and yielded high-grade copper.”

  “Oh. I guess when I think of Arizona mines, I think of gold.”

  Choya laughed. “I don’t think we’ll get that lucky. There hasn’t been a major gold find in the state for decades. No, they’re looking for copper.”

  Geology wasn’t something she’d studied, but she did know copper was valuable.

  He soothed his horse with a few soft words. Johnnycake was growing restless and stamped a hoof. “Want to go inside?”

  Jacquie looked dubiously at the holes in the walls and roofs of the shacks. “No thanks. I can see inside from here.”

  Choya was grinning at her. “I meant the tunnels.”

  Jacquie flushed for reasons that had nothing to do with the nip in the air. “Oh—yeah. Where it’s nice and dark, and I’ll be scared and—are you kidding? You’re not getting me to go down an abandoned shaft.” The thought made her shudder.

  He laughed out loud. “Don’t worry. Sam had them sealed up decades ago.”

  Jacquie looked at the shacks again and frowned with distaste—and a measure of disbelief. “Do you really think you’re going to strike it rich?”

  “It happens. And when it does, I’ll be ready. How about you?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he spurred his horse and galloped away to the south, leaving her gaping after him for a startled second.

  “Choya!”

  Much to her annoyance, he kept going.

  “Wait for me!” she screamed.

  He didn’t.

  Jacquie put her knees into Apache’s sides and rode for dear life, into the wind. Choya disappeared over a rise and she went that way, following the little puffs of dust that hung in the air. It wasn’t easy. The damned wind made them disappear too.

  She got to the top of a rise and looked around and down, seeing a dry streambed. There were hoofprints in the earth that led aro
und a bend. In another few seconds, Choya and Johnnycake ambled back the way they’d gone. He laughed up at her. “Good work. You didn’t get lost.”

  Jacquie picked her way down the other side of the rise and pulled up next to him. Furious, she gave his arm a hard thump that didn’t seem to register with him at all.

  “Did you want me to? Is that what that was all about?” she demanded.

  “Just wanted to see if you could keep up and if you could find me.” He kept on riding at a slower pace. “We’ll make a ranchwoman out of you yet.”

  “Oh. So it was a test,” Jacquie snapped out the words. “Did I pass?”

  “I was only having some fun with you,” he said in a mild voice.

  “I’m not in the mood,” she retorted.

  He turned and gave her an inquisitive look that made her squirm in the saddle. She wanted to bite her tongue.

  “Let me know when you are,” he said wickedly.

  She shut up. She wasn’t going to give him any more straight lines that he could interpret the wrong way.

  She was right behind him as they entered the yard and went to dismount first, clumsily, getting one hand tangled in Apache’s reins. The palomino turned his head and snorted softly at her. She freed her hand and flung the reins at Choya, who barely managed to catch them.

  But he did. And he used them to pull her nearer. The horses’ sides brushed as he got her close enough to kiss. She put a hand on the reins that Choya controlled and did her damnedest to stay where she was, enjoying the softness of his lips, pressing her thighs against the smooth saddle to rise up and kiss him back.

  Johnnycake snorted and sidestepped, and that ended it. The horse rolled his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what humans got up to. Choya laughed and tossed the reins back at her.

  Her restlessness increased by the hour. She tried to work on the application essay, but was put off by the helpful hints: Write about a moment that changed your life. Be personal and concise. She couldn’t remember a word of the essay that had gotten her into college the first time. What had she found to write about then? She’d been so sheltered, a little spoiled, never on her own—and now, none of the above applied to her life at all.