MM02 - Until Morning Comes

by Peggy Webb

  She climbed into her Jeep, and with Zar riding shotgun, she drove back to the cabin.

  o0o

  Jo Beth had discovered that life was filled with small blessings. The cabin was one of them. When she had taken this assignment in Arizona, the magazine, Wonders of the West, had offered her accommodations in Tucson. That would have meant a lengthy drive out into the desert to do her photography every day. She'd called an old college friend, Jimmy Raifko, one of those men of perfect face and form whom she had dated back in the days when she still believed in falling in love.

  He was happily married now, with two kids and a wife who played bridge on Tuesdays and bingo on Thursdays and who kept Jimmy's shirts white and his socks folded. To hear Jimmy tell it, the woman was a paragon. Jo Beth was happy that somebody had fallen in love, and she told him so.

  He'd offered his cabin out of the goodness of his heart and for old times' sake. She'd accepted.

  She parked the Jeep close to the old outdoor privy. She wondered if she'd ever see another outdoor toilet facility without thinking of Colter Gray Wolf. The great irony was that such a lowly place could call to mind such a magnificent image. Who would have thought that her first day in the desert she'd find an absolutely perfect man? A magnificent full-blooded Apache.

  She shivered. She should have been worried about Indians instead of rattlesnakes.

  Slinging her camera over her shoulder, she went into the cabin. Sara was knitting and Silas was reading.

  Sara looked up from her work. “Did you have a good day, Jo Beth?”

  “Great, Mom.” She leaned down and kissed both her parents on their cheeks. “Please don't wait supper on me. I want to develop this film.”

  She hurried into the small storage room she'd set up as a darkroom. She rewound her film, took it out of the camera, and set to work. Some of the pictures she had taken for the magazine layout were good, but it wasn't cactus that claimed her attention. She held her breath as images began to form on the dark surface of the film. At first, it was only a faded outline, but gradually the picture came into full, dazzling focus. The landscape was of such breathtaking beauty, it almost made her cry. But it paled in comparison to the man who occupied it. Colter Gray Wolf.

  She lightly traced his outline with her fingertips.

  “You're too beautiful, Colter Gray Wolf. How many hearts have you broken?”

  Plenty, she'd guess. He was as wild and passionate and mysterious as the ever-changing land.

  She hung the pictures up to dry and left the darkroom.

  o0o

  Colter had a hard time sleeping that night. Seeing Jo Beth at the stream had brought back all the passions he'd tried to keep at bay. He was forty years old and had lived a full life. He worked hard, played hard, and loved hard. But never had he met a woman who had climbed so directly into his heart's cradle. It was almost as if she belonged there, as if the Father Creator had fashioned her for him and for no other.

  That was absurd, of course. He was an educated, sophisticated man. He knew enough about human nature to know that physical attraction wasn't always love. But he was also Native American, and a strong believer in fate.

  Rather than toss and turn, which he considered a foolish waste of time and energy, he rose from his blanket and walked under the stars. It was like being with old friends, for he knew them all, knew their names and their legends and their purpose.

  When sleep began to claim him, he lay on his blanket again and fell into a deep, refreshing slumber.

  o0o

  He arose early, made his sparse breakfast, and climbed into an old but serviceable pickup truck, then headed toward Tucson.

  Butch Langley watched his pickup truck coming up the winding driveway, past the creosote-dipped fence posts, past the herd of cattle, past the dog kennels, and into the barnyard where he was stacking hay.

  He pushed his Stetson back on his head and mopped sweat from his brow. Colter descended from the truck, and Butch marveled again at how little his friend had changed from college days. He was still as fit and trim as he had always been, and hardly a line marked his face.

  “Colter. What brings you out of the desert?”

  “I hate to keep presuming on your friendship...”

  “Don't be ridiculous. After you saved my wife's life. Hell, if I hadn't flown her to San Francisco, the doctors here would have let her die. Ask me for the moon, Colter. It's yours.”

  “I need to borrow a horse.”

  “Take your pick. Though I'd advise against that black stallion. He's a wild one.”

  “Just the challenge I need.”

  He and Butch worked together to hook up the horse trailer and load the prancing, pawing animal. When the horse was loaded, they leaned against the truck and drank tall glasses of lemonade, bought from the house by the smiling Madalena Langley.

  “How much more vacation time do you have, Colter?” Madalena asked.

  “Two more weeks, but I could fudge a little.”

  “I still want to have a cocktail party for you.”

  “If that's your sweet way of asking me when I'm coming out of the desert, I have to tell you that I don't know, Madalena.”

  She patted his hand. “That's all right, Colter. I know you came out here to think, not to party. If we don't do it this time, we’ll do it the next time you visit.”

  “You're a sweetheart.” Colter kissed her cheek, then turned to his friend. “Don't ever let her go, Butch.”

  o0o

  It was mid-afternoon by the time he got back to his camp at the foot of the mountains. He unloaded the big stallion and walked him around, letting the horse get used to him.

  The animal laid his ears back and pawed the ground. Colter began to talk in Athabascan, the language of the White Mountain Apache. The ancient tongue spoke directly to the animal's heart. He whinnied once and turned his head toward his new master. Colter patted his muzzle.

  Exultation soared through him as he vaulted onto the stallion's back. The wind sang its haunting September song as Colter and the stallion raced. The sun covered him with its kind warmth.

  When the stallion had gotten used to his new freedom, Colter reined him to a brisk trot. The stream where he'd last seen Jo Beth came into sight. Suddenly an Apache poem sang through his mind: He could not forget the woman he'd first walked with. Her song was in the brook and her face was in the sky. Earth woman, fertile and waiting for man's seed.

  He had believed that all the Native American poetry and myths had vanished from his memory in his years of living the fast-paced life of a surgeon in San Francisco. But here in the open spaces of Arizona, he discovered that his heritage had never left him; it was waiting to be rediscovered, deep within his soul.

  The woman he'd first walked with. A vision of Jo Beth hovered in his mind, and he knew that he wasn't in the desert for a challenging ride; he was there to search for her.

  He scouted the length of the stream, then turned north, toward her cabin. He swung his head this way and that, scanning the landscape for a glimpse of gold that would give away her presence.

  He skirted the cabin at a distance, coming only close enough to see that her Jeep was gone. The tire tracks were still visible in the sand. One set looked newer, fresher. He leaned low to inspect them, then turned the horse in that direction.

  He came upon her unexpectedly, standing among some low scrub bushes, her camera focused on a giant saguaro cactus. A peace settled in his soul.

  He sat on the stallion and watched her. With her fair coloring, she looked like a part of the sun.

  Totally unaware of his presence, she hummed while she worked. It was a lilting melody that made him think of children's laughter.

  He eased the stallion closer, moving in as quietly as his ancestors would have done. He saw the snake before she did. It crawled out from the bush, looking for the sunshine, and it was only a few feet away from Jo Beth.

  Colter spoke to the stallion in rapid Athabascan. Horse and rider literally flew across
the sand. Leaning low, Colter caught Jo Beth around the waist and scooped her onto the galloping horse. Her camera banged against his naked chest and her eyes were wide with astonishment.

  He settled her securely in front of him and let the stallion gallop until he'd used his initial burst of energy. With Jo Beth pressed against him, he thought he might ride forever.

  “What are you doing?” she called over the sound of flying hooves and rushing wind.

  “Rescuing you.”

  “From what?”

  “A snake.”

  She turned her head. Her open mouth grazed against his upper arm. He drew the stallion to a halt.

  She rested briefly against Colter's chest, panting.

  “Don't be afraid, Jo Beth. I have you.”

  “That's what I'm afraid of.”

  He felt the flutter of her heart. Excitement had accelerated her pulse. It was only natural, he thought. But so was the feel of her in his arms.

  She twisted around so she could see his face.

  “How did you know I was there?”

  “I was stalking you.”

  “Why?”

  “For this.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers.

  Chapter Three

  Jo Beth didn't even consider resisting. Colter's kiss was as inevitable as the rising of the sun. She submitted to him, expecting a brief pleasure. She'd kissed men before, lots of men. And it was obvious that he was not without experience. But what happened there in the heat of the desert was far more than two people sharing a kiss, far more than a brief pleasure. Together they became a miracle.

  When the kiss ended, she pulled back and looked at him.

  “There's bound to be some logical, scientific explanation for that.”

  “For what, Jo Beth?”

  “For feeling as if I'm riding on a roller coaster, not wanting to get off.”

  “Let's take another ride.”

  He slid off the horse, then caught her around the waist and swung her down. Her arms went automatically around his neck, and her face lifted toward his like a flower seeking the sun.

  He took her lips again, tenderly at first, and then with an intensity that was almost obsession. This time she neither submitted nor yielded: she gave.

  They felt naked in each other's arms, stripped bare of everything except their need. But there was more, more than tenderness, more than obsession, more than need. There was fire and passion between them. It bloomed so fiercely and grew so quickly that they were both caught off guard.

  Colter eased his hold, and Jo Beth took a step backward.

  “You tempt me, Colter.”

  “And you, me.” He reached toward his horse and began to stroke the soft muzzle, more to have something to do with his hands than anything else.

  “Were you really stalking me?”

  “I didn't intend to. I intended to ride free and wild over the desert, to feel the wind in my face and the sun at my back. But that changed.”

  “Why?”

  “It's the Apache way of courtship, Jo Beth. In the first stage, the man follows his chosen woman at a distance.”

  “Am I your chosen woman, Colter?”

  He was silent for a long time, studying her as he pondered the question. She felt like a trapped bird, poised for flight but unable and unwilling to take off. She heard the rush of her own blood in her ears. It was the only sound in the desert... until Colter spoke.

  “That's what I have to find out.”

  Her modern ideas bent and almost broke under the reality of Colter Gray Wolf. Still, she didn't have time to be anybody's chosen woman.

  “I think you skipped a few stages.” She kept her voice light and teasing.

  He chuckled. “Are you disappointed?”

  “I won't know until you tell me what I missed.”

  “There are three stages. In the second, I bring you presents.”

  “I adore presents... Cracker Jacks and cheese grits and goo goo clusters and those tacky bumper stickers that say things like, 'Beware of San Francisco doctors bearing gifts.' “

  “I don't think my ancestors knew about goo goo clusters. What is a goo goo cluster, Jo Beth?”

  “It's a Southern delicacy. A sticky chocolate candy with a marshmallow-and-peanut center. You should try them sometime.”

  He went so still, she had the odd feeling she was looking at a bronze sculpture. Except for the eyes. Those dark, intense eyes gave him away. They made her hot. The way he was watching her made her feel as if she had climbed on that roller coaster again.

  “I intend to try many things with you.”

  Jo Beth's dog bounded out of the scrubby bushes and rubbed against her leg, but for the first time since she’d had him, Zar could not capture her attention. She was studying the magnificent, inscrutable Apache face.

  “Why, Colter?”

  “Do you believe in fate, Jo Beth?”

  “No more than I believe in falling in love. And that's not at all.”

  “I’ll make you change your mind.” He vaulted onto his horse and reached to pull her up. “Come. I’ll take you back to your Jeep.”

  “No, thank you. I want to get a few more shots. But before you go, there’s something I have to know.”

  “Yes?”

  “What is the third stage, Colter?”

  “I cover you with my blanket and make you mine.”

  Before she could recover her breath, he had wheeled the horse and galloped away. She turned to watch. Sand sprayed up behind horse and rider, and the sound of thundering hooves echoed across the desert. Colter rode low, bending close over the horse's head, almost as if he were carrying on an intimate conversation with the animal, speaking magic words that only the two of them understood.

  That was probably what he was doing, Jo Beth thought. Speaking magic. The Apache doctor had a silver tongue. He had spoken magic to her, and she was ready to give love another whirl.

  And why not? He was certainly a perfect man, perfect of face and form, educated, articulate, and sophisticated, with the added attraction of being mysterious and exotic.

  Almost without thinking, she aimed her camera. But it wasn't the landscape that claimed her attention. It was Colter. A few quick adjustments, and Jo Beth had captured him forever, a magnificent bronze man, riding into the sunset.

  When he was out of sight, Jo Beth loaded her gear into the Jeep, called her dog, and headed back to the cabin.

  All the way home she planned exactly how she would find out if love really was alive and well in the modern world. She'd brought one great party dress to the desert, just in case. She'd take Colter into Tucson, find a small hideaway with a good band, and take him onto the dance floor. She loved dancing. It was so conducive to falling in love.

  Then there were the moonlight walks. Nowhere on earth did the moon glow as it did in Arizona.

  One or two walks in the evening could do more for love and romance than a hundred how-to books. And she'd read them all. She'd done everything the books had said: She'd used perfume guaranteed to cause swooning and toothpaste guaranteed to cause kissing. Nothing had worked. Her breath didn't rasp, her heart didn't sing, and her libido didn't tap-dance, or whatever a libido was supposed to do.

  Until today.

  She was smiling as she pulled the Jeep into the front yard and parked. She was still smiling when she walked through the front door.

  The rope sailed over her head and settled around her chest.

  “Gotcha.” Her father jumped from behind the door, pulling the rope tight. “Whooee, the Long Badger has not lost his touch.”

  Her hopes tumbled, and she wanted to weep.

  “Dad, what are you doing with the rope?” She loosened it and pulled it over her shoulders.

  “Practicing. Don't you know Toronto is still on the loose?”

  “He's a doctor from San Francisco, and he's merely out there camping.”

  “That derned Indian can't fool me. He's aiming to take my daughter captive, and I'm a
iming to stop him.”

  Jo Beth was sidetracked for a moment by the thought of being Colter's captive. “Pull yourself together, girl.” She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until her father answered her.

  “That's what I say. Pull yourself together, girl. That's what I came to the desert for—to protect you. Now you just hush that foolishness about that derned Indian being a doctor and give me back my rope.”

  Jo Beth looked at the man who had helped her take her first step, taught her to tie her shoes and sat in the front row in her elementary school auditorium, cheering while she'd played a pumpkin in the Halloween pageant.

  And now, suddenly, he was the child and she was the parent. She put her arms around his shoulders.

  “Come on, Dad. Let's go into the kitchen and see if we can find Mom.”

  Silas stared at her for a moment; then his eyes became watery with unshed tears. “Jo Beth?”

  “I'm here for you, Dad.”

  “Jo Beth, honey. What's that rope doing in here?”

  “Don't worry about the rope, Dad. Let's go help Mom.”

  Together they went toward the kitchen. Her fantasies of walking in the moonlight and dancing under the stars vanished in the harsh glare of reality. Family responsibility was not something she took lightly. But more than that, parental love was not something she took for granted. Silas and Sara had loved her, nurtured her, and cheered for her for almost thirty years. Now it was her turn.

  As she led her dad into the kitchen, she wondered if love would have happened with Colter.

  o0o

  After he reached his camp, Colter tethered the horse and rubbed him down. Then he climbed into the borrowed truck and headed into Tucson.

  The stores were still open. He went from store to store, searching for the items he wanted. When he couldn't find them on the shelves, he asked the clerks. Most of them shrugged, some of them expressed regret, and many of them laughed.

  Colter was a patient man. He settled into a booth at a small steak house and pondered his problem over a huge meal. By the time he had finished his dessert, he knew what he had to do.