Desert Heat

by D'Ann Lindun

  “Here. This way.” She lifted a hand to wave and pain shot up her arm. “Hurry.”

  He came toward her carrying a flashlight and she watched it like a lifeline. “Mallory? Where are you?”

  “Here,” she cried. “To your left. Just another dozen yards or so.”

  Like a hunting dog, he came straight at her. As he approached, relief filled her and she began to shake. She tried not to move, although she wanted to jump up and run into his arms.

  He reached her and knelt by her side. “Oh, man. What have you done?”

  “Fell,” she managed. “My glasses . . .”

  He retrieved them and put them in his pocket. She blinked back more tears. Without warning, he reached under her and picked her up.

  “I can walk,” she whispered.

  “No, you can’t. You’re covered in Cholla. If you walk, you’ll get it shoved into your feet.” He moved swiftly, and although he didn’t mean to hurt her, the uneven ground made the going rough and every bump pushed the prongs in a little further. She bit her lip and buried her head in his shoulder to keep from crying out.

  Reaching the front doors of the main building, he carried her to the rec room and placed her on the wide couch. He took her glasses out of his pocket and slid them on her nose. “Don’t move.”

  Sitting like a statue, she bit on her lip to keep from crying like a baby. Now that she could see, it was worse than she thought. Her palms were full with chunks of cactus. Her shirt, pants, and shoes had more than their share, too.

  Mike dashed out of the room, and came back in a minute carrying a first-aid kit. He knelt in front of her and pulled on a pair of leather gloves. “I’m going to take your shoes off first. I don’t think you have any in your feet. It hasn’t penetrated the soles.” He worked as he talked, untying her laces and slipping the tennies from her feet.

  “Now, your pants.” He talked in a soothing voice that somehow did calm her racing heart. He crouched and took hold of her hips. “That’s it. Stay still. We don’t want to get any in your legs. Got it.”

  With his support, Mallory stood on unsteady legs. She moaned a protest when he reached for the waistband of her gray sweats, but she knew he was right to get her pants off before the cactus prongs went through the thin material and poked her skin. His fingers skimmed her hips as he hooked his thumbs in her waistband and tugged. The soft cotton fell from her hips and landed on her feet. Mike bent and steadied her by one ankle as he lifted the other and took the clothing off. He repeated the action with the other foot.

  Mallory wanted to die of humiliation. She wasn’t in the habit of standing in front of strange men in her undies. Thank God she’d worn a nice pair of pink bikinis, and not something hideous. A hot blush covered her cheeks as he again steadied her by the hips and sat her back down. Mike, however, didn’t seem to notice her unease. He was focused on her hands. He took her left wrist and held it out for inspection. A soft whistle slid through his lips.

  “Oh, baby. That’s got to hurt like hell.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded toward a Navajo blanket on the back of the sofa. “Do you mind throwing that over me?

  “Sure.” He tucked it around her lap and reached for a pair of tweezers. Gently, he began to pull the spines from her palms and drop them in an empty bowl. Although she knew he was being as gentle as possible, it still burned like fire and she couldn’t keep the occasional whimper from escaping her lips.

  “I know,” he said. “It hurts.”

  “You said you helped my father do this?” She gasped as he pulled a deeply imbedded thorn out of her thumb.

  The tweezers stilled for a moment. “Skeeter? Naw. I never helped him pull thorns. He took care of himself. I came up on him pulling some out of his pant leg one time, though. Come to think of it, he had some in his shoes when he came in this last time.”

  “Have you ever fallen in cholla?” she asked to distract herself. Her heart hurt more than her hands. Her dad hadn’t needed anyone. Not even when he was hurt or ill. He’d rather face it alone than turn to her.

  He glanced up for a moment and his blue eyes held hers. “Got stuck by cholla? Sure. Most anyone who lives in Arizona has at one time or another. Being a desert native yourself, I’m surprised you went out at night in unfamiliar territory.”

  He left the question hanging, but Mallory answered it any way. She couldn’t believe how she had gone out alone. “I couldn’t sleep so I went out to the pool. I heard a horse and I went to investigate. It headed into the desert and I followed.”

  The look on his face turned from concern to disbelief. “You heard a horse clear around by the pool?”

  “Yes. I know what a horse sounds like.” To her own ears, Mallory knew she sounded defensive. “And it was definitely a four-legged animal.”

  “Did you see it?” He concentrated on her hand and didn’t look up.

  “No,” she had to admit. “Well, not until it knocked me down.”

  “What do you mean?” His hands stilled.

  She felt foolish now. What had possessed her to go out in the night like that? “I guess I got too close to whoever went for a midnight ride. They galloped right over the top of me. That’s how I ended up looking like a pincushion.”

  He looked up and the look in his eyes was unreadable. “You’re telling me you went in the desert at night after someone, and they saw you? And knocked you down?”

  “I tried to wake you,” Mallory said. “I thought somebody might be doing something rotten and I wanted to catch them at it.” Now that she said it out loud, she couldn’t believe she’d been willing to play Nancy Drew.

  “I don’t want to scare you,” he said, “but I have to ask you not to go out alone again. The SRPL has vandalized some of my neighbors. They haven’t physically injured anyone but they’re crazy enough to do something. The horse you heard was probably one of my employees keeping an eye out for one of the vandals.”

  Mallory shivered. “Is that what you were doing out there? Looking for troublemakers?”

  “I was in bed.” He pulled a thorn and she jerked. He tightened his hold.

  “But you came from the desert, not the ranch.” She distinctly remembered the direction his flashlight had come from and it hadn’t been from the buildings.

  “I came the long way, from the lodge. You sounded like you were closer to the river.” He placed her left hand on her lap and picked up the other to begin pulling spines. She didn’t believe him, but she wasn’t going to argue about it.

  He painstakingly pulled the needles from her skin. As the pain began to lessen, she noticed his tousled blond hair as he bent over her hand. Had more than sleep mussed it? Had Dianna run her fingers through his sun-bleached locks? Mallory was surprised to find the idea bothered her. Why? She had no right to care. She’d barely met the man. He was only a kind stranger, absorbed with the problems in his own life.

  Shelby stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. Alan peered over her shoulder. “What’s going on? We saw the lights and wondered what was up.”

  Mike answered, “Mallory thought she heard a horse and went after him. She met up with a cholla.”

  “Oh, man,” Shelby said. She moved beside Mallory and sat. “That sucks.”

  Alan hovered at Mike’s shoulder. “You’re going to be one sore girl for a few days. If you’re not careful, you can get an infection where those spines went in.”

  “She’s not going to get an infection,” Mike said. “I’m getting all of them.”

  “There’s no way to get them all,” Alan insisted. “She ought to go to the hospital.”

  Tired of them talking about her as if she weren’t there, Mallory said, “I don’t need the hospital. I’ll be fine once all the thorns are out. If you have some Benadryl, I’ll take that.”

  “Almost there,” Mike said. Mallory winced as he dug at a stubborn spine.

  Shelby placed her hand on Mallory’s shoulder. “He’s almost done.”

  “Did you find the horse?” Alan asked.<
br />
  “Yeah, when he mowed me down,” Mallory said. “And knocked me into the cholla. After that, I didn’t pay a lot of attention to where he went.”

  “Do you mind going to take a look?” Mike directed the question to Alan. “There’s nothing you can do here but watch. If the gate’s open the whole herd might get out.”

  Alan stood. “No problem.”

  “I’m going to stay here.” Shelby came to her feet. “I’ll get the warm water and glue.”

  “Glue?” Mallory asked, alarmed. What did she intend to do, stick her to her seat so she couldn’t cause any more trouble?

  “You cover the entry wounds with glue, cover it with gauze, let it dry and then pull the bandage loose. It’ll bring out the thorns Mike can’t see,” Shelby explained. She turned and walked Alan out.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Mike said. “Shelby’s a nurse. She’s pulled tons of cacti out of guests.”

  “I’m so sorry to cost everyone their sleep,” Mallory said. She wasn’t a very good houseguest.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Mike said, his voice husky. “This place is so quiet it’s like Tombstone after the gunfight.”

  In spite of her misery, Mallory smiled. “I bet this is a wonderful place when you’re busy. Not that it isn’t now, but it must be so full of fun and life when you’re operating.”

  He placed the tweezers aside and looked up. “It is.”

  “What an amazing way to live,” she said. “People dream about living the way you do.”

  “It’s all I know,” he admitted. “I’ve been in the hospitality business my whole life. I don’t know how to do anything else, and I don’t want to.”

  Mallory didn’t know how to respond. From the looks of things, he might well have to find another line of work. If the SRPL won, he’d be out on the streets looking for a job. He’d said he’d do anything to protect the ranch. Once again she was reminded of Skeeter’s gold and map. “Is there any gold left in the mountains?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s doubtful. Those stories are just legends. Every area has them. The west, and especially Arizona, has more than their fair share. Why do you ask?”

  She was saved from answering by the reappearance of Shelby carrying a pan of water, a towel, glue, and bandages. “Got the stuff. Ready?”

  “I think I’ve done all I can with the tweezers.” Mike took hold of her sweater jacket sleeve and pulled, careful not to get any of the clinging cactus in her arms or his hands. Then he moved aside and Shelby sat by Mallory.

  “Put your hands in here,” she said.

  Mallory did as told. “Ouch.”

  “I bet that stings.” Shelby made a sympathetic face. She told Mike, “Grab a glass of water and some Benadryl from the cabinet in the kitchen.”

  He did as bid as the two women sat in silence.

  When he came back, Mallory was drying her hands on a hand towel. She took the medicine and water from him and swallowed them. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He picked up the glue and covered her palms with it. Next he wrapped gauze bandages over it. “We need to let this dry, then we’ll pull the bandages free.”

  While they waited, Alan rejoined them. “I checked everything, and the gates are secure.” He paused. “And all the horses are where they should be.”

  “You sure?” Mike asked.

  “Positive,” Alan said. “I counted twice. Every horse is in. The little burro, too.”

  “He must’ve gone back.” Mallory looked from one pair of skeptical eyes to another. “I didn’t go on a wild goose chase. I’m telling you I heard a horse and went after him.”

  “The gates were closed,” Alan said. “Unless one of the horses closed it behind him, he wasn’t out tonight.”

  “I know what I heard,” Mallory protested. She wasn’t crazy. Or hearing things.

  “I know you think you heard something,” Mike said, “but it’s an unfamiliar environment. Maybe you just heard the horses in the corral moving around. Sound jumps around in the desert. You’re tired, maybe you were hearing things.”

  Mallory bit her tongue. She lived and worked in the desert. Yes, sound carried, but it didn’t just come up with the wind or out of nowhere. And she wasn’t so tired she fell down in a pile of cholla for the fun of it. She knew what she knew. But she wasn’t going to convince these people.

  “I guess.”

  She didn’t miss the look the three shared between them.

  The glances that said she was off her bean. But she knew she’d followed a horse, she knew she’d been knocked down on purpose, and she knew Mike hadn’t been in his bed when she knocked on his door.

  She touched the wrap on her hands. “Is this ready?”

  Mike lifted one edge. “Yes.”

  Mallory held her breath as he tugged the homemade poultice from her skin. Surprisingly it didn’t hurt. All she felt was a slight pull as the glue lifted the last thorns from her tender, red skin.

  “You okay?” Mike asked.

  “Yes. Thank you.” Feeling normal would take a few days, but compared to an hour ago, she felt like a new woman. “I’m so grateful. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed. I’m sure you’re exhausted, too.”

  “I am beat,” he said. “Is there anything else you need?”

  She shook her head. “No. Just a bed.”

  “I’ll walk you,” he said.

  Alan and Shelby wished her well, said their goodbyes, and left.

  Keeping the blanket around her waist like a skirt, Mallory lumbered down the hall. Mike steadied her with his hand under her elbow and she was grateful for his support. The ordeal had taken more out of her than she realized and she felt slightly sick to her stomach and weak in the knees.

  “I did see the horse, you know,” she muttered.

  “I’m sure you did,” he said. But his tone suggested he still didn’t believe her.

  “I wouldn’t lie about it,” she said. “Or wander out in the desert at night for no reason.”

  “But Alan says the horses are all secure,” he said.

  She didn’t have an answer for that. “I know.”

  “Get some rest, and we’ll talk about it in the morning,” he suggested.

  They reached her door. Mallory stumbled to a stop, the hair rising on her neck and arms. “I didn’t leave this like this,” she said.

  Mike threw her a puzzled look, then shifted his gaze to the door. It stood wide open. “What the—”

  “I pulled it shut behind me,” Mallory said in a strangled tone. “I distinctly remember.”

  Mike reached inside and flipped on the light switch.

  Expecting the worst, maybe a trashed room, Mallory held her breath and stepped over the threshold. Other than the drapes swaying in the breeze from the AC, everything looked exactly the same. With a panicked glance at Mike, she searched the bathroom, under the bed, and in the closet. Nothing was out of place, but she couldn’t shake the feeling someone lurked nearby.

  “You okay?” Mike asked.

  “Yes.” She nodded. Then she shook her head no. “Not really. I know that door was shut when I left. Someone opened it.”

  “It probably didn’t latch right,” he said. Although his tone was patient, she could see by his slightly arched brows he thought she had gone round the bend.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” she said. Unease plagued her and her gaze skittered around. Then it hit her. Her purse had been moved. “My bag. It’s in a different place.”

  He frowned. “What are you saying? That someone rifled your purse? No one here would do something like that.”

  She picked up her oversized bag and looked inside. Her wallet, keys, and return airline ticket were all as she left them. But something was different. She dug around again. The map. It was gone. She opened her mouth to say so, then snapped it shut. Remembering the way he reacted earlier, she decided it best to keep her peace.

  “Everything in order?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She
walked to the sliding door and locked it. “I need some rest. It’s almost dawn.”

  “Feel free to sleep in. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen if I’m not around,” he said with a kind smile.

  An ordinary conversation about everyday things, but her heart pounded. Someone had lured her outside to give someone else time to steal her map. She was sure of it. What she wasn’t certain of was whom, or what their motives were. Her skin prickled and she wanted to be alone. With a pointed glance at the bed, she hoped he’d go. Right now she didn’t trust him all that much.

  Taking the hint, he moved to the door. “I’ll wait until you lock it.”

  Not slamming it behind him took all her willpower. She fastened the deadbolt, then double checked it. Still not satisfied, she pushed the ladder-back chair from the desk under the knob.

  Leaving on the light, she climbed into bed and tried to figure out who wanted her gone from her room long enough to steal Skeeter’s map.

  Mike was the only who knew she had it.

  Chapter Six

  Mike walked back to his suite, wanting to kick his own butt with every step. He hadn’t expected Dianna to chop Mallory down like grass in front of a lawn mower. She said she’d help him get a look at Mallory’s map. Was this Dianna’s idea of helping? By seriously injuring someone? He wasn’t going for anything that drastic. If Mallory found out he was the one who took her map, she’d hate him.

  Unable to sleep, he’d gotten up to check the lodge.

  When he’d walked down the hall, and spotted Mallory’s door standing wide open, he’d taken advantage of the opportunity and taken her map. But he sure hadn’t wanted her to get hurt or to be frightened. Her poor hands had made him sick and the look in her eyes when she realized the map was missing tore at his conscience until he’d nearly confessed.

  He chased away the thought and tried to make himself believe that what he’d done was the right thing. It didn’t work. He didn’t think he’d ever felt worse in his whole life.

  Letting himself into his suite, he sat at his desk and placed the two jagged halves of the map together. A tear ran up one side, missing landmarks. Taking a closer look, Mike spotted Tortilla Flat and Goldfield, and someone, probably Skeeter, had marked the location of the Cholla with an X. Probably just to orient himself.