by D'Ann Lindun
“You’re borrowing trouble,” Brent answered. “She’ll leave as soon as she buries her father. Don’t do anything to arouse her suspicions.” Their voices faded as they moved away.
So much for a warm welcome. What could she be sticking her nose into? Had Skeeter met with foul play from one of these people because he knew something he shouldn’t? Even more determined to find out more, Mallory waited for a moment to make sure she was alone and then hurried down the hall to her bedroom. With haste, she dug through her bag and found the torn map. Holding it carefully, she made her way back to the library.
A Garth Brooks tune now filled the air. After checking to make sure no one was around, humming along under her breath, Mallory spread the yellowing paper out next to the map on the wall. Skeeter’s map was apparently hand-drawn, with several landmarks that matched those on the larger version. She traced the landmarks on Skeeter’s map, and then found them on the hanging map. Two towns, Tortilla Flat and Goldfield, sat along a dirt road called the Apache Trail. Skeeter’s map copied the route, but not exactly.
What did the small inked X indicate on Skeeter’s map? On the big one there was nothing but desert. Again, comparing the two, she saw on Skeeter’s version where he’d marked the X, was now The Jumping Cholla Ranch.
What could that mean? Why had Skeeter marked the location of The Cholla on his map? Just to get his bearings? Or was there a deeper reason he’d noted the ranch’s position? She bit a thumbnail and stared at the ink spot, trying to figure it out.
“There you are.” Mike stood in the doorway.
Mallory yelped and jumped. The map fell from her fingertips to the floor.
Before she could retrieve it, he beat her to the task. He glanced at it, then looked again. “What is this?”
“I’m not sure,” Mallory hedged.
“Like hell.” Mike’s eyes looked like twin blue lakes, frozen over for winter. “Where’d you get this?”
Not liking his tone, Mallory reached for her page. “Give me my property.”
He held it away from her. “Not until you tell me how you got this.”
Seeing he wasn’t going to hand it over, she said, “It’s nothing. Just an old map.”
“I know what it is. How’d you get it?” He glanced at it again.
“From Skeeter.” She held out her hand.
“What?” He looked skeptical. “That’s not possible.”
“The coroner gave it to me today. This was sewn into his pant leg. The coroner gave it to me today.” Was Mike some kind of nut? He seemed sane, but the way he acted now was beyond weird.
“Why didn’t you mention this earlier? Is this your plan? Take up where Skeeter left off? To hunt down the treasure he couldn’t find?” He took two steps, then turned around and paced the other way. “I put up with him because he was a crazy old man. Don’t think for one minute you’re going to take up where he left off. Traipsing all over my ranch digging holes, bringing down the wrath of the SRPL even more.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mallory snapped. “I had no idea Skeeter had a map until today when the coroner handed it to me. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t realize it was any of your concern. And, I have no idea what the SRPL is.”
He ran a hand over the back of his neck and gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I jumped on you. The SRPL is the Salt River Protection League. They’re an environmental group, extremely radical, who has decided that any use of the public lands by me, and three other commercial users, is tearing up the desert. Along with the Forest Service, they have me shut down until a hearing in June. I can’t be on the public land for any reason. Anything that brings the eye of that crowd on me is a problem.” He handed the map back to her with obvious reluctance.
Mallory arched her brows at him. No wonder he was grumpy. But she wasn’t a paying guest. She had the right to use public lands. “The SRPL can’t tell me, as a private citizen, not to go on the desert. Right?”
He grimaced. “Yeah. Partly. The Cholla belongs to me, but the river is government property and it goes directly through the middle of the place and I have several special-use leases on the wilderness for jeeping and riding. As long as I’m not guiding guests through there, I shouldn’t get in hot water. Since you’re not paying, I don’t think you’re bound by the same constraints.”
“I see.” A bit of her anger turned to sympathy. “I won’t do anything to get you in trouble.”
“Good.” He ran a hand over short blond hair. “Anything that stirs them up is a problem. If they saw you out there searching the desert, even on adjacent public land, it might give them ammunition to use against me.”
Mallory’s heart sank. If she did as he asked, and didn’t follow through on her search, she’d never understand what her father gave up everything for. On the other hand, if she didn’t do what Mike wanted, she could cause him irreparable damage.
“Hey, there you are.” Shelby stuck her head through the door, interrupting them. “It’s getting late. Alan and I are going to head out. Brent left already. He said to tell you thanks. He’ll be up in the morning to go over repairs. Nice meeting you, Mallory. We’ll see you soon.”
“Thanks, Shell.” Mike moved to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Di’s still in the game room. ’Night.” She gave a quick wave and left.
“I’m tired,” Mallory hinted. “Do you mind telling Dianna goodbye for me?”
“Not at all,” he said smoothly. “Sleep well.”
A tinge of regret filled her as he headed off to Dianna. Mallory would be sleeping alone.
~*~
Mike yawned, hoping Dianna would go home.
Instead of leaving with the others, she’d insisted that they needed to talk. In a moment of weakness he’d told her about seeing Mallory’s map and they had discussed the possibilities for an hour. If there were a buried treasure somewhere, it might be the key to saving the ranch.
“We need to get rid of that woman,” Dianna hissed. “She’s going to bring nothing but trouble if she stays. We can beat those bastards, and she can ruin it all.”
“Mallory doesn’t know anything. There’s no way she can do any damage.” Mike sighed. Dianna had always been a drama queen. She thrived on unrest. “As soon as the coroner releases her father’s body, she’ll go home. Who knows, the map is probably worthless anyway.”
“If she pries, she might stir up things that are better left alone.” Dianna pulled her thick brows together in a frown. “We need to get a good look at her half of the map.”
“She won’t dig. She doesn’t know I have half of it.” Mike swallowed his irritation. Although Dianna was right, Mallory might ruin everything without even meaning to. On the other hand, she held the key to saving the ranch. If he could only figure out how to get her part of the map . . . without her knowledge.
“How are you so sure?” Dianna put her hands on her hips. “Oh, I get it. You’re going to turn on the old Malone charm and seduce her into cooperating? That’s going above and beyond, isn’t it, Mike? I suppose she’s attractive enough in a schoolmarm type way. Be careful, friend. You’re still not over Elisha. One thing could lead to another, you might lose control. Say more than you mean to during pillow talk.”
“You’re going too far,” Mike warned. He knew Dianna wanted more from him than he could give her. She and Elisha had been best friends in college, and after Mike met Elisha, he became friends with Dianna, too. They were close, and it was comfortable between them, but he had never been attracted to her in a physical way.
“Fine,” Dianna said, “but keep your head.”
“I’m the one who always does.”
She glared at him as she went to the door. “Make sure you keep it that way.”
~*~
Sleep was the last thing on Mallory’s mind, but she stretched out across her bed and tried to relax. The tiny X on Skeeter’s map bugged her. Why was it there? What did it signify? For some reason, she felt certain the mark me
ant more than just The Cholla. Not only that mystery, but the conversation between Brent and Dianna kept circling around in her head. Scoffing at herself for being paranoid, Mallory tried to let it go. For all she knew, they could’ve been discussing something totally innocent.
Maybe a glass of milk would help her relax. She got up and padded to the door with a glance at the clock on the wall. Almost midnight. Certain no one would still be up, she didn’t take time to grab a robe, although she didn’t really need one. She wore her usual nightwear–a plain tee and a pair of gray sweats. The hallway was dim, but lit enough from the light under the rec room door, she easily made her way to the kitchen.
The kitchen door was closed, but unlocked, and she slipped inside.
After pouring herself a tall glass of milk, she took it and headed back. Halfway there she froze as the rec room door opened and Dianna came out. Spotting Mallory, Dianna looked her up and down. She smiled like a rattlesnake. “Well, look who’s lurking about in the middle of the night.”
“I wasn’t spying,” Mallory denied hotly. She held up her drink. “I was thirsty.”
Dianna shrugged. “No matter. It’s no secret that Mike and I are . . . close.”
“Good for you.” Of course an attractive man like Mike would be seeing someone. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“Sure,” Dianna promised without warmth.
Mallory slipped by the other woman and entered her suite. More shaken than she realized, she paced, her mind spinning. If Mike was romantically involved with Dianna, she might be even more likely to pressure him to save all their jobs. But at what cost? Mike had invited Mallory to use his horses, although he had told her not to stir up the SRPL. If she could do it discreetly, she might ride out in the desert in the morning to see if she could locate any of the landmarks on Skeeter’s map. She must take care not to appear to be treasure hunting. Maybe the desert held some answers.
Nothing on The Jumping Cholla ranch was as it appeared on the surface.
~*~
After Dianna finally went home, Mike sat at his desk and studied his half of Skeeter’s map. He traced some of the landmarks on the map with his thumb. He should’ve handed it over to Mallory immediately instead of keeping it from her. By rights, it belonged to her. No one had ever given Skeeter’s theories of a lost gold mine any credit, including Mike. But when he’d found the map in the old prospector’s things he’d had a moment’s doubt. Intrigued more than he wanted to admit, he just wanted to study it a little while. What if the lost mine was on his property? Then the profits would be his.
His conscience told him to let it go even as he tried to remember what he’d seen on the other half. If he found the mine by memory, that wouldn’t be wrong, would it? But nothing in particular came to him. He had to see Mallory’s portion again. The right thing to do here was ask her if he could take a look. But then she’d know he’d withheld something that belonged to her. He’d already aroused her suspicions by his behavior in the library.
He generally prided himself on being an upstanding kind of guy. He wasn’t the sort to use a woman for any reason. Only because she insisted, Elisha’s money had kept a bevy of high-powered attorneys on retainer to fight the SRPL. But Mike didn’t have that luxury any more. He had a short reprieve until the court date in June, but without smart, high-priced lawyers to fight the injunction he might as well call it quits now.
Unless there was something to Skeeter’s map.
Mike was beginning to understand how desperation could make the most honest of men into something they ordinarily weren’t. And make them do things they normally wouldn’t. Like searching for a lost gold mine.
Charging out into the desert in search of gold wasn’t as easy it sounded, though. What he’d told Mallory was true—if the SRPL got any indication that he had harmed the desert in any way, the radical environmentalists would be on him like a crow on a carcass. With about the same results.
The Cholla meant everything to him.
Was it worth the risks?
Dropping the torn half of the map on his desk, he went to the sliding glass doors and opened them. He leaned against the doorframe, staring into the night sky, trying to come to the right decision. He’d already lost Elisha because of his obsession with the land. How much more was he willing to sacrifice?
~*~
Mallory tossed and turned, unable to relax.
The bright green numbers on the clock near her bed told her it was 1:15 A.M. Her eyes felt like they’d been through a sandstorm, but sleep wouldn’t come. She’d always believed when her father came to his senses, he’d come home with a plausible explanation for where he’d been for the last twenty-two years. She wasn’t a naive child any longer, when that hope had kept her going when nothing else could.
Now she found out he’d simply dropped out. Become a bum with no more goals than a coyote looking for his next meal in the desert. She thought she’d quit crying over him a long time ago, but her cheeks were damp. Angry that she cared, she wiped them away. What had drawn her father here? Something compelling had to have kept him from his wife and child. She refused to accept anything less.
For about the hundredth time she turned over. On her back, she stared at the ceiling. The lights from the pool just outside played chase across the stucco. Although earlier she’d been chilly, she was now too hot.
Someone, walking very quietly, approached her door and stopped.
Mallory fumbled for her glasses and slipped them on.
Someone turned the doorknob.
Slowly, the knob spun back.
Then the person on the other side moved away.
Who had tried her door?
Heart pounding, Mallory got up and slipped on her shoes and a jacket then slipped down the dark hall. Seeing no one, she tiptoed outside. Only a cricket chirped. Then, after her ears adjusted, she picked up the sound of a horse moving. For a minute she thought it was just one of the horses in the corral probably going for water or hay. But the longer she listened she realized the animal was walking briskly away from the barn. Who was riding at this time of night? Could one of those SRPL people be up to no good?
Mike needed to know. She slipped inside, ran down the hall to Mike’s door and knocked. He didn’t answer. It was late, he was probably sound asleep. She pounded harder. No answer. Gosh, he slept like the dead. She debated for a moment. She didn’t really want to get into something dangerous. But, as his guest, she felt a certain responsibility to see if someone was doing something they shouldn’t.
In the rec room, she found a flashlight, and she stuffed it in the pocket of her sweater. Closing the front doors softly behind her, she moved out into the desert night. For a minute, she thought she’d waited too long to go after the rider, because she could no longer hear anything. After a few moments of concentration, she caught the faint sound of hooves still moving away. Flipping on the flashlight, and waiting until her eyes adjusted to the inky dark night, Mallory walked in the direction she thought he traveled although she couldn’t see any horse or rider.
Not normally spooked by the night, her scalp felt too tight and goose bumps covered her skin. As she moved from the lights of the buildings the dim beam of the tiny flashlight illuminated the desert and she saw towering saguaros, palo verde trees, and cholla but no rider. She scanned the desert but he seemed to have vanished into the night air. Something skittered and the hair on her arms rose. Too cold for rattlesnakes or lizards. Probably a rabbit. Or a javelina. She hoped not. The wild pigs could be dangerous if provoked. So could a criminal.
She hurried her steps.
Where had he gone?
Although there were a lot of cacti out here, an animal as big as a horse shouldn’t be that hard to find. She paused for a moment, and looked over her shoulder. Surprise filled her at how far she’d come from the buildings. She should’ve tried harder to wake Mike.
Straining to hear, all she picked up was the sound of her own quick breaths.
No hoofbeats.
Nothing.
Maybe she had imagined the whole thing.
She hadn’t had a lot of sleep, after all.
The best thing to do would be to go back to the ranch and get some rest. Wandering around in the desert in the middle of the night wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done. She turned back when she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye.
Chapter Five
Mallory turned her head. Something that sounded like a fire-breathing dragon bore down on her as if to pick her up and carry her off. Even though logic told her it was the horse, she screamed and threw her hands up to ward him off. But the enormous beast hit her shoulder and knocked her spinning.
Without her glasses, she instinctively reached out to break her fall. Too late she realized her error. Her wide open palms landed in a pile of Cholla. Its sharp prongs penetrated her skin, sunk in, and spread its fishhook-like prongs, instantly causing shoots of agony to fill her hands and arms. The plant stuck worse than crazy glue. No amount of shaking could loosen it.
Mallory held in another scream and moaned.
Getting to her feet was next to impossible. She couldn’t push to her feet with her hands full of thorns and the more she struggled the more Cholla she drove deeper. Not only her palms were full of thorns, but her sleeves and the front of her sweater, too. It covered her from elbows to feet. No matter how much she wiggled, she couldn’t get up. She imagined she looked like an armadillo on her back. If she didn’t hurt so bad, she would’ve almost laughed.
Her glasses lay a few feet from her and she had no way to pick them up.
Seeing she had no choice, she opened her mouth and yelled like she’d never yelled in her life. She screamed again and again, as if she were being murdered. Someone had to hear her. Sound carried across the desert air as if sent by an amplifier.
Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes when the resort stayed dark and silent. “Out here! Somebody, help me!”
“Where are you?” She recognized Mike’s voice. Thank God.
