Gray sighed.
"Go on with you," she said. "I'll be just fine." The command was sheer bravado. She was a long way from fine. Light years, in fact.
He gave her another of his long, thorough gazes. She straightened beneath his scrutiny, determined that he wouldn't see how much she was hurting. Finally, he walked away without a backward glance, his long strides carrying him swiftly away from her. She watched until he was out of sight, stricken with the conviction that she might never again see him.
* * *
For as long as he lived, Audrey would haunt him, Gray thought as he walked away from Francie's house. So much had happened over the past couple of days. Things that should be more vivid than one woman's grieving expression. Seeing Audrey's car blown up. Having a close encounter with a hundred-year-old ghost. Being confronted with his cousin's murder. None of those compared with Audrey's eyes the moment he told her he didn't love her.
Gray saddled his horse and rode it out of the corral at a canter. D.J. seemed anxious for a run, and a hard one suited his mood just fine. He galloped across the valley as though demons chased him.
In his mind, they did.
The last thing he had ever wanted to do was hurt her.
Then you should have stayed away from her, his conscience taunted. You knew exactly what would happen if you got involved. She's not for you.
However true, no one had ever felt more right to him. Her openness drew him as nothing else ever had until she gave him her trust. She believed in him, dared him to confront the demons that now chased him across the empty plain.
She had seemed unaware that he could have injured her with a well-placed blow, seemed oblivious that he outweighed her by close to a hundred pounds and that her strength was no match for his.
But she got to you.
And she had. With nothing more than her courage and her honesty and her trust.
His eyes burned—surely because of the air rushing past, surely nothing more—as he relived the moment he told her he didn't love her. He couldn't have hurt her any more cruelly if he had taken a strap to her.
She believed in him, and her faith tempted him more strongly than anything ever had. But, dear God, if he could hurt her this much simply by trying to push her from his life, what would he be capable of if he did what she wanted—marry her.
They would have moments like last night when they laughed together. But it couldn't last. He had seen the cycle too many times to delude himself. He'd do anything to be close to her, to make her love him. And then he'd do anything to make sure she was his woman, including treating her the way his father had treated his mother.
Gray shook his head, tortured at the idea of Audrey bloodied and bruised at his hand. His eyes focused on his fist. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine hitting her. Yet he had seen the monster in his father, had seen it in his two brothers. He was his father's son. And Gray knew. The monster was there inside him, waiting for its release.
He shook with the knowledge. Pictures exploded in his mind, ancient, old and new all mixed together in his head. A terrified young boy who hid in a closet to avoid his father's unpredictable rages, a boy who later ran away instead of staying to protect his mother. The shame of it blossomed through his chest, choking him. A man who took another man's life and was glad for the death. A man stabbed with jealousy when Audrey laughed with another man. A man who would surely die if he harmed her in any way at all.
The sooner he sent her on her way, the better. End of story.
When he arrived at the hacienda, it seemed to have more creaks, groans and wispy drafts than he'd ever noticed before. Every sound made him jump. Fortunately, the phone was working again. His friend Rafe was on his way, but according to their original plan. He wouldn't be here for hours.
When Gray finished his call, he went back to the front of the lodge, restless and edgy, and half tempted to go back to see Audrey. A better use of his time, far better, would be to ride back into the valley and track down Howard Lambert.
He had just mounted his horse when movement behind him caught his eyes. Hawk's battered pickup racing toward him. The driver honked the horn.
The pickup came alongside him. Inside was José Romero, one of the teenagers from the pueblo who helped Hawk with his herd of horses.
"There's been a stampede," José said through the open window. "Hawk asked me to come get you. He needs all the help he can get."
"What happened?" Gray asked.
José waved in the direction of the corral across the valley. "I don't know, but they're plenty spooked."
"I'm on my way."
A relieved smile flashed across José's face, and he gave a thumbs-up before whirling the pickup around and speeding back in the direction he came from.
Gray reined his horse away from the road, and headed directly across the valley. He'd help Hawk round up his herd, and then he'd go find Lambert.
Both would keep him away from Audrey … and temptation … until she was gone.
* * *
Audrey hoped against hope that Gray would come back. But he'd gone to the corral, saddled his horse and ridden away without a backward glance. She watched until he disappeared from view.
Finally, she turned back toward the guest house. Inside, the tumble of sheets on the unmade bed reminded her of what she had shared with Gray. Firming her chin, she stripped the sheets from the bed. Just when she thought she might get through it, she inhaled his aroma. Burying her face in the bedcovers, she let the cries come, sobs so huge they brought her to her knees.
She rocked back and forth, the pain as huge as any she had ever borne.
"Audrey?"
At the sound of Francie's voice, she snapped her head up.
Francie stood in the doorway. "What's happened? Are you hurt?"
Audrey wiped at her tears with the backs of her hands, struggling to find a modicum of composure.
The other woman came the rest of the way into the room. "When I saw Gray heading toward the ranch alone, I was afraid something had happened." Francie lifted a brow. "Did you two argue?"
"Not exactly."
"And not anything you're going to confess to a brand-new friend, either." Francie touched her shoulder. "C'mon. I bet you could use a cup of coffee or tea." She smiled when Audrey met her gaze. "Or a Bloody Mary." She clapped a hand over her heart. "And I promise not to pry … too much."
"A woman of her word." Audrey's tone was dry.
"Exactly. If I can make my patients distracted enough to keep them from knowing I'm drawing blood, then I ought to be able to get your mind away from Gray Murdoch for three or four seconds. Unless you'd like to see a couple of his carvings."
"I'd like that," she responded. "These patients of yours, where are they?"
"There's a clinic back in town where I work part-time." She smiled. "A welcome change from an ER, I can tell you."
Audrey nodded, remembering that Gray had told her Francie worked at the clinic.
She followed Francie out of the guest house, noticing the sunny day wouldn't be with them much longer. Already, clouds had moved far across the sky, and in the distance, it looked as though it was already raining.
"Mud season," Francie said, following the line of Audrey's gaze. "Can't wait for it to end."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Audrey found herself asking. "I'm not on your husband's list of favorite people."
"Sometimes I agree with my husband. Sometimes I don't," she said cheerfully. "After twenty-seven years of marriage, he's kinda used to it."
"What about your mother?"
"Let's just say that I trust Gray's judgment. He thinks you're okay." Francie opened the door to her house and waited for Audrey to precede her inside. "Besides, if my mother is to be believed, the eclipse the other night was an omen and all our troubles are going to be over."
She seemed to realize that Audrey wouldn't have anything to add, so she continued, pulling a couple of mugs out of the cupboard as she talked. "Of course, after
everything else that's happened in the last couple of days, ghosts and broken curses might be a little tame."
Because asking was a way to numb her pain, Audrey asked, "The Indian woman who's chased—that ghost?"
Francie nodded. "My mother is convinced that she—the ghost—is her grandmother."
"That's possible?"
Francie shrugged. "Who knows?"
Audrey shook her head, again thinking she had somehow stumbled into an alternate universe. The sooner she returned to her ordinary, albeit boring, life, the better. She took a sip of coffee from the mug Francie handed her, absently playing with the familiar weight of the bracelets on her arm.
"Be right back." Francie left the kitchen, talking over her shoulder. She came back a couple of moments later holding several wood carvings. One was of a bird of prey, a hawk or eagle, the carving smooth without a hint of feathers, only the powerful outline of the bird. The second was a woman, sitting with her knees against her chest, her head bowed. Both were stunning pieces.
"These are amazing," Audrey whispered, caressing the bird, then picking up the woman. From any direction, her expression was impossible to discern, but the figure seemed to convey a deep sadness. Or maybe it was her own state of mind, she decided.
"How did you know about the ghost?" Francie asked, sitting down across from her.
Unwilling to admit she had seen her—touched her—Audrey glanced down at the bruises on her hand. "Gray told me," she said, carefully setting the figure on the table. Him again. She sighed and glanced at Francie, deciding Mary's fixation on a ghost was a much easier topic than Gray. "Why does your mother think she's the ghost's … granddaughter?"
"My grandmother was found out there in the middle of the valley when she was only a few weeks old. Around her neck was a necklace with a medallion—the symbol of Kokopelli, like your bracelet. The necklace was supposedly a wedding gift from a man of the people when he married a Comanche woman—the one who became the ghost. The legend says she was captured on her way to Santa Fe, where she was supposed to have delivered a deed that would have returned all this property to the people.
"And when my mother was a young girl, she had a spirit dream that led her to a sheltered box canyon up on the mesa. There's a protected overhang there that has petroglyphs. One of them is in the symbol of Kokopelli."
Audrey glanced down at the bracelets. On one, the abstract symbol of the buffalo looked as it always had. The other bracelet, she didn't recognize. Instead of the familiar stylized tree rising from a lake, a hunchbacked man playing a flute was etched into the silver.
A chill crawled down her spine. Except for the unfamiliar engraving, the bracelet looked as it always had.
"What is it?" Francie asked. "You look as though you've seen a ghost." Then, laughing at her own joke, she chuckled.
"My bracelet," Audrey whispered. She stared at the engraving, then shook her head. She'd worn this jewelry every day since her mother's death. She knew what it looked like … and it wasn't this. She knew what it felt like … and it was this.
"What?" Francie asked, her voice growing serious.
Audrey swallowed, knowing she would sound crazy. "My bracelet isn't supposed to have this figure on it … Kokopelli." She met Francie's eyes. "I swear to you, until yesterday, it had another symbol on it. Are you familiar with Sipofene?"
Francie nodded. "It's the name of the underworld where the people lived before this one was made."
Audrey nodded. "My bracelet used to have an etching of a lake with a tree, a symbol of the journey from Sipofene—not this hunchbacked figure."
"Used to have?"
She nodded, then whispered. "We saw the ghost. Up there on the mesa in one of the hidden canyons."
"What happened?"
Audrey closed her eyes, remembering the moment the Indian woman had appeared out of the mist at the height of the eclipse. And she told Francie almost all of it. The woman's long, intense labor. How she'd simply vanished as the eclipse ended. How she'd lost the bracelet in the pool and how they had later found it.
"You've got to tell this to my mother," Francie said.
Audrey shook her head.
"Don't you see? I know she'll believe this is the sign she's been looking for all her life."
"Why is it so important?"
"It's her heritage—mine, too. But she's also convinced my great-grandmother's disappearance—and the ghost's haunting—is the reason our pueblo doesn't really belong to us, not legally, not in the government's eyes. It's one more step to help her solve that mystery."
"You don't think I'm crazy?" Audrey asked.
Francie grinned. "I definitely don't think you're crazy. Stranger things have happened."
Audrey didn't want to imagine what those things might be.
"Where did you get the bracelets?" Francie asked.
"My mother bought them for me," she answered, remembering vividly the day in Santa Fe they had bought them from an old woman with a booth in the plaza. Audrey touched the bracelets. "It was the last trip we took before she became too ill to travel."
"Good memories, then."
"The best."
"Anything special about Kokopelli?" Audrey asked.
Francie laughed. "The hunchback of the pueblos, and to all accounts, a Don Juan. He was a peddler or storyteller, depending on which legends you believe. But always associated with fertility."
"Kokopelli. Don Juan," Audrey muttered. The connections in the story to all that had happened the past few days were too close to be believed, including the name of Gray's horse.
"We've got to go see my mother." Francie stood. "C'mon. It's a nice day—or at least it is until it rains, which it surely will."
Audrey followed Francie out of the house. Outside, she paused, again glancing at the bracelet, hoping she'd see the old symbols etched in the silver instead of Kokopelli. She didn't.
The rumble of an approaching vehicle made her look up. A Jeep came around the corner at the front of the house. In the driver's seat sat Howard Lambert.
"No," Audrey murmured. She whirled around. The piñon trees were too sparse to hide within, even if he hadn't seen them. And the broad valley didn't provide any place to hide at all.
"Small world," Francie said. "Hawk has been going nuts the last two days trying to get hold of him."
Audrey glanced around. There was no place to hide.
He waved, shut off the engine. "Francie," he called. "How the hell are you?"
He vaulted out of the vehicle instead of using a door and strode toward them, his rapid footsteps echoing exactly the sudden frantic beating of Audrey's heart.
"I've been looking all over the place for that reprobate husband of yours."
"Hawk wants to see you, too," she said. Unwillingly, Audrey turned around to face her boss. He looked as he always did—waxed mustache, fringed jacket and an air of total self-confidence. A demanding employer. A man she had considered a friend. A man who tried to kill her. She knew the last as surely as she breathed.
He caught her glance. In a fleeting instant, surprise and horror flickered across his face. He smiled hugely and came toward her. "Audrey. My God, I didn't expect to see you."
"I can imagine."
"Are you all right?" He took both of her hands within his, then hugged her. Unable to bear his touch or the duplicity of his smile, she stepped away from him.
"My Lord, girl, you look like death warmed over," he said. "But of course you do. You've been through hell the last couple of days. I bet you're anxious to blow this place."
He didn't seem to notice her lack of response at all, because he turned to Francie. "You wouldn't happen to have some more coffee?"
"Of course," she said, turning back toward the house.
"Actually, we were just on our way to Mary's house," Audrey said, tugging Francie's sleeve, urging her back down the walk.
"I wouldn't want to detain you," he said in a tone that indicated otherwise.
"It's no problem."
> Francie gave Audrey a puzzled glance and headed back into the house. Howard made a sweeping gesture, removing his hat in the process.
"After you," he said.
Inside, Audrey followed Francie into the kitchen, determined to warn her. Before she could utter a single word, Howard followed her into the room and sat down on one of the chairs, setting his hat on the table.
"I saw your friend riding toward the ranch," he said. "He wants you to meet him there."
Audrey shook her head. "I'm positive he doesn't want to see me at all."
"Really?" Howard shrugged. "He said he did." He said did with such an exaggerated drawl that the word almost sounded like dead. Audrey shivered.
"How do you take your coffee?" Francie asked.
"You're taking off to see your mother," Howard began. "Anything special going on?"
"Audrey—"
"No," Audrey interrupted. "Just morning coffee. We promised." She made a point of glancing at her watch. "And we really should be going."
"Even though your friend wants you to meet him at the ranch?"
"He knows where to find me," she answered.
Howard took a long swallow of his coffee, then stood up. "I think you've imposed on Francie long enough, Audrey. It's time to go. The sooner we go to the ranch, the sooner we can go back to Denver."
"It's okay," Francie interjected. "We don't have to go visit Mother."
Howard beamed. "See? Even Francie agrees."
Audrey met Howard's gaze, positive she'd be signing her own death warrant if she left with him.
He leaned closer, looking solicitous and concerned, and he whispered in her ear, "If you don't come right now, Francie's going to get hurt. Understand?"
Shaking, Audrey nodded and stepped away from him. Gray hadn't said so specifically, but she was sure he thought Howard had killed Richard. And he certainly had tried to kill her. She swallowed hard, the realization flooding through her that he might yet succeed. And she didn't want to be responsible for any harm coming to anyone else.
Clearing her throat, she said to Francie, "Howard's right. I've imposed long enough. If you see Gray, please tell him—" Emotion clogged her throat, and she had to stop. "Tell him that I won't be needing his friend's help to get home."
HIS TENDER TOUCH Page 19
