"Then you are keeping something from her." Ben shook his head. "And here I thought she was wrong about that."
"It's not my secret to tell," Wes said, and he felt his heart breaking with every word.
"Then you're gonna lose her," Ben told him. He sighed heavily. "Wes, I'm telling you, it's not worth it. I lost the only woman I ever loved, so you can take my word on that. Hell, I'd shout government secrets from the rooftops if I thought it could bring Penny back to me."
His voice broke a little, and Wes's heart broke with it for his brother's pain.
"No stupid secret is worth losing her, Wes. I guarantee it. And I'll tell you something else. If you really did love her, you'd trust her. And if you really trusted her, you'd know your deep dark secret would be safe in her hands." He nodded toward where Taylor was standing. "Safe as little Maria is there."
Wes followed Ben's gaze and saw Taylor snuggling Maria in her arms, sitting down at the picnic table with the baby on her lap, lifting a spoon to eager lips.
"Damn," he whispered.
"Looks awful good with the baby in her arms, doesn't she, little brother?"
Wes had to avert his face. Hot moisture burned his eyes, and he blinked it away.
"Don't do it, Wes. Don't lose her. You'll never forgive yourself if you do." Ben clapped Wes on the shoulder one last time, then wandered over to the picnic area to join the others.
And Wes knew his brother was right. If he lost Taylor, he'd never forgive himself. Maybe it was time he took Turtle's advice, and listened to the visions. Let his gut or his guide or whatever the hell you wanted to call it, tell him what to do, and stop thinking so much. He'd seen that vision or hallucination or whatever it was. And instead of believing in it, he'd gone out looking for proof of what it had shown him. Well, it was too late for proof, and maybe he didn't need any. Maybe he should just believe. Just trust. Trust the vision.
Trust Taylor.
He swallowed hard. Okay. Then he'd trust her.
Wes sat with her as they ate lunch, but it was all too brief an interlude. Within minutes the men were swarming over that barn like bees on a honeycomb, and the women were collecting the dishes and putting away the food.
Wes got up to leave, but then he leaned down over her, his lips brushing her ear, and he whispered, "You don't have to worry about this anymore, Doc. I think I finally have it figured out."
She turned quickly, frowning up at him. He only planted a kiss on her mouth, and then smiled, and turned to join the workers.
Taylor frowned after him, wondering what on earth he could mean. He'd said he couldn't talk about what had happened that night with Turtle until he'd figured it out. Was that it, then? He was ready to talk to her about it?
And was that going to make the difference? Would she get past this stupid suspicion that he was still hiding things from her then? Would it be enough?
She was a fool. The biggest fool in Texas if it wasn't. But she also knew in her heart that Chelsea was right. She had to be sure. They'd both be miserable unless she was.
By the time the sun went down, the wiring work on the barn was complete, and the men who'd done it had headed into the house to check out the wiring in there. The stalls were in place, the tack room half-finished, the roof brand-new and leak free. People were beginning to pack up and head home.
"Tomorrow we can slap a coat of paint on this baby," one man announced loudly.
"Plumbing still needs doing. An all-day job," someone else said.
The three men came out of the house nodding and talking among themselves, and one called out to Wes. "Wiring in the house isn't bad at all. Couple of places need repairing, but it shouldn't take long. And you need a new pump. It's shot, but once you get one, and a hot-water heater, that place'll be darned near perfect."
Jessi sniffed. "Won't be perfect till we get some paint and wallpaper in there, and patch those holes in the plaster."
Wes made a face at his sister. "Women. I suppose it won't be livable until we hang lace curtains and line the shelves with knickknacks, either."
"That's right, brother." Jessi winked at Taylor. "But I think we girls can handle that end of things, when your budget allows." Then she came closer. "How is the money holding up, Wes? All this lumber and stuff must've cost a fortune."
"There's still enough left for that pump and water heater," he told her. "You saved me a bundle, setting this up. You know what it would have cost me to hire someone to get all this done?"
She smiled and lifted her chin. "That's what baby sisters are for." And she smiled at Taylor. "My brothers hate to admit it, but they couldn't get along without me if their lives depended on it."
Lash came forward and slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Neither could I," he said, and dropped a kiss on top of her head.
But Wes was frowning. "I think we'll be a little short of funds for lace curtains and wallpaper, though. Whatever's left has to go for breeding stock." He smiled softly. "Mares," he said. "Lots of mares."
Taylor opened her mouth … then she snapped it shut again. She'd very nearly blurted that she had savings enough to decorate the entire house. Damn. She was falling into Wes's fantasy again. Thinking as if the place were her home, as well as his.
Instead she said, "You could board a few head, bring in some cash that way. You'll have empty stalls for a while. And you could always give riding lessons on the side."
Garrett came forward then, and the big man was holding Bubba's tiny hand in his, and taking small steps so the little guy could keep up. That toddler looked up at Garrett with sheer worship in his eyes. "Wes, you know you still own a share of the Texas Brand. One-sixth of the place is yours."
"And if you're thinking I'll keep taking one-sixth of the profits when I'm not working full-time on the ranch, you're nuts, big brother."
Garrett shrugged. "You could let me buy your share of the place."
Wes blinked, and Taylor could see he hadn't even considered it before. "I don't know—"
Garrett nodded toward the house. "Place needs paint," he said. "Roofing. And those front steps need replacing, and the porch rail." He met Wes's eyes. "You think it over, and we'll talk, okay?"
Cars were pulling away now, engines purring or growling, headlights flashing over their faces. Only the Brands remained here now. The real Brands. Taylor felt like an outsider.
Then Wes slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she got the overwhelming feeling that she belonged right here, at his side, surrounded by this huge family. "I'll think about it," Wes said. "Thanks, Garrett." Then he squeezed Taylor closer. "We'd best go now, though. I got something needs doing."
He met Ben's eyes. Ben nodded encouragement, told him without a word to do whatever it took. And Wes swallowed hard and prayed his trust in Taylor would be well placed.
Wes took Taylor back to the Texas Brand, instead of the site. As they pulled in beneath the giant arch, she asked him why, but he only shook his head and kept driving.
He pulled the truck to a stop near the stables, and when she got out, he drew her into the musty dimness, flicking on lights as he went. He released her hand and hurried to the back, disappearing into what must be the tack room and returning with two saddles, and a pair of bridles over his arm.
"Feel like a moonlight ride?" he asked her. But the way he said it, the way he looked, she got the feeling he was asking for a lot more. That her answer was vital.
"Wes, what's this about?"
"It's about everything, Doc. Just come with me. Trust me." He dropped the saddles to the floor and came closer, taking one of her hands in both of his. "Trust me, Taylor. Just this once."
And she trembled. But she nodded. "All right."
Wes seemed to sag in relief, but only for a moment. Then he was drawing a horse from a stall, saddling it and moving on to ready a second mount for her. Side by side they led the horses from the stable, and Taylor kept searching Wes's face for some hint of what he was up to. But he showed nothing. So good at hiding things. Damn.
He held her horse while she mounted, and then climbed aboard his own. "This way," he said. And he dug in his heels, setting off at a fast pace. Breaking into a gallop across the fields. Taylor kicked her horse into action, falling into the familiar rhythm of horse and rider, and they raced through the night, her hair flying behind her. It was exhilarating, and for a while she forgot to worry about her feelings for Wes, her inability to trust him, his secrets, and just lost herself in the heady thrill of racing heedlessly through the darkness.
She rode up to his side and together they ran, and she wished they could be like this, this carefree and wonderful together, for always. But then she realized where they were heading, and all the old questions and doubts crept in again. Gnawing at her brain like hungry rodents.
They skirted the site, and ended up in the cool desert, and Wes drew his horse in a bit, slowed to a walk.
"Is it Turtle?" Taylor asked, her horse close beside Wes's. "Is he back out here with that raggedy tepee again?"
"No. Turtle's safe in his trailer. It's just you and me tonight, Doc."
"Wes, this is really throwing me. Can't you tell me what—?"
"I have a present for you." He fumbled with something at his waist for a moment. It was too dark to see what. But seconds later he reached out and handed her a rawhide thong, and she recognized it. He'd taken it from that medicine pouch he always wore tied either to a belt loop or around his neck. As she took it from him, he stuffed the pouch into a pocket.
Taylor held the thong, looked at it and shook her head. "I don't understand."
"You will," he said. And then he fell into silence. There was only the gentle night wind blowing, rippling the horses' manes, and the steady soft sound of hooves on arid ground. And then the rocky hill rose up in the darkness just ahead, and Wes pulled in front of her. Single file was the only way to pick through the boulders. He was moving up higher, not down toward the spot where Turtle had set up his deathwatch such a short time ago. It seemed as if it had been much longer since that night. The night she'd spent wrapped in Wes's strong arms. Making love to him.
His horse's tail twitched, and pebbles clattered underfoot. And then Wes stopped, and he climbed down, twining the reins around the limb of a scraggly tree. He came to her, and helped her down, as well, leading her horse up beside his, tying it there. He took her hand.
"I figured something out today," he said. "Took a lot of help. Turtle's been trying to tell me, I think, but he wanted me to see it for myself. Ben … well, Ben's a little more blunt about these things."
Taylor drew a breath. Let it out slowly. Waited. He was going to tell her something. Something important. Please, she thought, let me be right. Let him open up to me, finally.
Wes turned, drawing her close to his side, and walked a few steps farther. "You told me once, Doc, that your career means everything to you."
"It has," she said. Until now. But she didn't say that last part aloud.
"The sacred ground on this site isn't meant to be invaded," he told her. "If it is, its magic will die. But if it's treated with the respect it should be … then The People will prosper because of it. That's the way the legend goes, anyway."
She nodded. "I know all that, Wes. But there is no sacred ground. I haven't found anything to indicate—"
"There is."
She frowned and tilted her head, searching his face.
"There are only two people alive who know where, Doc, but there is a magical place here. Turtle knows. But as shaman he was sworn to keep the secret, to keep the ground from being desecrated by outsiders. But he was torn, because unless the spot was discovered, the elders were determined to sell this property. That was why he wanted me to play the Wolf Shadow game with you. To convince you there was magic here without letting you get close enough to actually find it. But I'm taking that decision out of his hands, because … because I can't lose you now."
The breath was knocked from her lungs. She didn't know what to say. And then something occurred to her that hadn't before. "I'm Comanche," she said softly. "Why would it desecrate the ground if I discovered the site?"
"Because your career is your life. And a find like this one could make your career more than it ever was. You could get backing, dig it all up, put the artifacts on display in some white man's museum."
She lowered her head very slowly. Did Turtle really believe she would do that? And then she blinked. Maybe he was right. Because maybe she would have, a few short weeks ago. But she wasn't the same person she had been. She was Comanche now.
Her head came up quickly as she replayed all Wes had said. "You said there were two people who knew where this sacred place was." And Wes nodded. She licked her lips. "Are you the other one?"
He stared hard into her eyes, and she knew he was opening his soul to her at this moment. "I found it that night Turtle was out here. I was looking for firewood, and…"
"And that's what you've been keeping from me." And why did it hurt so much? Why did it sting to know he didn't trust her any more than Turtle did?
"Give me the thong," he said softly. And she did, not looking up or meeting his eyes.
But then he knelt on the ground and pulled some stones away from the base of a boulder. And he reached inside. Taylor stood riveted as he fumbled in the darkness. Then he rose and turned to face her. And he lifted the thong, and she saw the turquoise heart, roughly hewn, but all the more beautiful for its crudeness. As she sucked in a breath, Wes draped the pendant around her neck.
"Wes…?"
"That night I spent with Turtle, I had a vision, Taylor. And this is what I saw. I'm not keeping anything from you anymore. Because I trust you. And everything inside me is telling me that this is the only way to make you see that. I trust you, Taylor. This is the site you've been looking for. It can make you famous, if you want it to."
"My God," she whispered. "Then it's all true. This is … this is where Little Sparrow is buried. This is her necklace."
"It's your necklace. I think … I think that's what the vision was trying to tell me."
"But … but this … this ground … the legend…"
Wes shrugged. "What you choose to do with this spot is up to you now, Taylor. The elders gave you permission to dig here, and you can excavate most of this spot before your time runs out tomorrow. Or you can leave it, as the legend says it should be left."
Taylor looked at the ground, shook her head slowly.
"I can only tell you one thing for sure," Wes said, and he reached out to trace the shape of the heart where it rested on her chest with a forefinger. "No matter which choice you make, right or wrong, Doc, I'm gonna be right here. Because I'm in love with you." He paused, touched her face and shook his head in wonder. "I love you, Sky Dancer." He bent closer, kissed her gently and then he straightened and turned, began walking back toward the horses.
"Wes."
He stopped, his back to her, and stood motionless, waiting.
"I feel like I know her," she said softly. "It's like she's with me, like she's been with me all my life. I just … never let myself feel it. Didn't even know how to let myself feel it."
Wes turned, and she knew he could probably see the tears in her eyes. But she didn't care. She could trust Wes with her tears.
"No one is going to be digging on this site. I'll make the elders understand that they can't sell it to Hawthorne. But I won't betray Little Sparrow for the sake of my career." She touched the necklace, felt it warming in her palm. "And I won't betray you."
As he stood, maybe shocked motionless, maybe unsure, she sniffed. She hadn't told him how she felt for him. Not yet. But first…
She lifted the necklace over her head, and bent to lovingly tuck it back into the place where it had been. Bracing one hand on the boulder to steady herself, she looked for the hole. But then she paused, because something slick and wet was coating her palm. She straightened fast, turning her hand, trying to see what it was.
"Taylor?" Wes came to her. "What is it?"
; Taylor drew her hand to her face and sniffed at the substance. She shook her head, and took Wes's hand in her clean one, drawing it forward until his fingertip touched the wetness on the stone.
"What the…?"
Wes rubbed his forefinger with his thumb, and then he sniffed, as well.
And then his eyes widened. "It … it smells like…"
"Oil." They said it together. And then they turned, bending nearly double to trace the trickle of black gold back to its source. And they found it, uphill, nearly three hundred yards from the site of Little Sparrow's grave, a tiny chasm between the boulders where the small stream of liquid seemed to disappear into the earth.
Taylor looked up at Wes. "Thank God it's not too late," she said, beaming. "The People still own this land. If this is what we think it is, they…" She shook her head slowly.
"Hawthorne must have known about this," Wes said slowly. "It's bugged me all along that he'd make such a generous offer on this hunk of ground." He looked at Taylor and smiled. "Do you know what this is going to mean to the Comanche people here?"
And a voice came from behind Wes, an aged, wise voice. "It means, Raven Eyes, that the prophecy is being fulfilled."
Wes turned fast, and Taylor went forward to stand close beside him. His arm came around her shoulders as Turtle stood smiling at them.
"How the heck did you get up here, Turtle?" Wes asked. "What are you doing here?"
"By preserving Little Sparrow's resting place, you two have ensured the fulfillment of Wolf Shadow's promise. The People will know prosperity now." He nodded slowly. "You did well to listen to the visions, Raven Eyes. I knew you would."
"I'm glad someone did," Wes said. "But, Turtle, you could have saved us all a lot of grief if you'd just told us about this from the start."
Turtle blinked slowly. "That I could not do. Sky Dancer had to come here. She had to find herself in the spirits of her ancestors, and to know who she is. And you, Raven Eyes, you needed to find your own way. To tell you would have accomplished nothing. And now there is only one part of the prophecy left unfulfilled. The spirits of Wolf Shadow and Little Sparrow are still not at peace. Not until they are united. And, Sky Dancer, this part of the prophecy, only you can fulfill."
Maggie Shayne - Badland's Bad Boy Page 20
