About six-foot-four big.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes to what?” He was going to have all of it, every word.
Her eyes rose to his rugged face. “Yes to everything. Yes to you and me and yes to this wonderful little town.”
“Thank God. Now I can breathe again.”
“Not so fast, Sheriff.” She hid a smile as she traced his top button slowly. “Now I have a question for you. Is it or is it not an officer’s job to serve and protect?”
“Always.” His eyes filled with heat. “Did you have something particular in mind?”
“You could say that.” She rose onto her toes and whispered in his ear. “So what do you think?”
He looked like speech was beyond him for a moment. Then his hands tightened on her hips. “Is that possible in the backseat of a Blazer?”
Tess realized that the wedge of fabric at his belt was straining tighter by the second. Her glaze flickered downward and she smiled slowly. “I’m willing to find out if you are.”
Something came into his eyes, a mixture of tenderness and determination. “You won’t give up your work here, Tess. We’ll set up home everything—teleconferencing, fax, scanners. We’ll both do some traveling. This isn’t going to be one way.”
“We’ll discuss it later,” she whispered. “Meanwhile, you might want to unlock this cuff, Sheriff. It’s going to make what I have in mind very difficult.”
There was a slight tremor in his hands as he slid off the cuff. “I don’t need it anyway,” he muttered. “I’ve been entirely defenseless since the moment you tossed that garter belt in my face. All I could think of was putting it back on you.” He smiled slowly. “And then taking it off again.”
A jackrabbit peeked from behind a prickly pear cactus, and a family of quail darted up the wash.
From the road behind them came the screech of a horn. T.J. turned as a dusty pickup slowed, its driver waving wildly. Mae called through her open window. “If that’s an engagement ring, I expect to get a close-up view of it later today at the café.” She gave another long burst on her horn, then vanished over the hill.
T.J. shook his head. “If I’m not careful, I’m going to have to run myself in for disturbing the peace.” He stared down at Tess’s radiant face. “On the other hand, it might be worth it.”
A brisk breeze worked through the canyons. Back on the highway, a dozen more cars appeared, lights flashing, horns honking and arms waving.
Tess’s eyes widened. “How—”
“Grady.” T.J. rolled his eyes. “He must have reached them on their CBs. The man’s probably raised half the town by now and has the wedding announcement for the paper, complete with photographs.”
Tess eased closer. “I suppose I can’t refuse a duly elected sheriff and distinguished law officer of the great state of Arizona?”
“Don’t even try,” he said huskily.
Their hands met as a school bus approached, carrying the fourth-grade class to a statewide singing competition. At the front of the bus, Ms. Jenkins stood up, clapping. “Show us the ring,” she called out the window.
“Does everybody know?” T.J. muttered.
Tess raised her hand high so that the sapphire gleamed in the early light. As she did, the bus stopped. All thirty-two children leaned against their windows, cheering while they waved their thirty-two tiny flags.
“I guess that makes it official,” T.J. whispered, gathering Tess tightly in his arms. “The people of Almost have spoken.”
The warm heat of the Blazer was behind her and the warmer heat of his body in front of her.
“Kiss me, Duchess. I don’t think I can wait another second.”
Tess flushed. “But the children. T.J., we shouldn’t—”
He grinned wickedly. “Let’s make their day.”
She tilted her head back, looking up at his chiseled face, seeing the joy and naked exhilaration in his eyes. “Well, maybe just this once …”
The children were giggling and squealing with glee when their lips met. The bus driver gave a long, noisy blast on his horn, and then went on his way.
Tess laughed through the kiss, laughed through the tears of happiness shimmering at her eyes. T.J. opened the passenger door of the Blazer, settled Tess, then slid behind the wheel. Above them the air glowed as the rising sun climbed free of the mountains. For a moment, just a moment, the whole valley flashed, caught in a perfect flare of blinding pink light.
Neither of them noticed the two coyotes loping behind them as they headed home to the ranch.
Epilogue
ELEVEN MONTHS LATER
“Once upon a time,” Tess said to the smiling baby on her lap, “there was a town. A beautiful, friendly, and very small town.”
She sat on the twig rocker on the adobe porch overlooking fifty miles of mountains, clouds, and rolling desert foothills. On her lap was her daughter of two months, red-cheeked and powdered, fresh from her bath.
Katie McCall had dark hair like her father and bright green eyes like her mother. She did a lot of laughing, probably because her parents did, too. Just then she was watching her mother intently.
“Everyone in this town came from different places and for different reasons. Some were down on their luck, some were lost, and others were simply drifting. But that’s the funny thing,” Tess said quietly. “This town didn’t have many streets, and there were no giant skyscrapers or fancy condominiums. It was just what it was: home. A place for them to take a long breath and find out what made them happy. It did that a lot, sneaking up on people and making them happy before they even knew it.”
Tess stroked her daughter’s cheek. “And that’s why everyone who came to this town stayed for just one reason: because they loved this place. And aren’t you lucky, Katie, because the place I told you about is right here, a little town called Almost.”
Wind drifted through the mesquite trees, rustling the long green fronds. Tess looked down at the town she had come to love, surrounded by mountains, canyons, and a sky so blue, it stole her breath away.
In two hours most of the town would be descending on T.J.’s ranch, anticipating music, dancing, an outdoor barbecue, and fireworks. They were welcoming back Mae and Doc Felton, who were returning from a month’s honeymoon in Venice.
Tess had flown down to New Orleans and soothed the unhappy cruise passengers. With the problems settled, she and T.J. had vanished for a two-week vacation exploring the side streets and culinary delights of the lovely old port city.
The criminal investigation had finally ended. A network of money launderers had been tracked into five American cities. None of them would be making ATM withdrawals for the next thirty years or so.
When she’d resumed her work, she didn’t lack for clients. A surprising number were glad for an excuse to visit the Southwest to discuss product rollouts or media campaigns. T.J. had been true to his word, setting up home everything.
But he’d been especially involved in setting up the brightly painted nursery that overlooked the mountains to the east.
Tess brushed a curl from Katie’s cheek. “And even here in Almost you can learn about market campaigns—like what we did for Mae. Remember, when you plan a campaign, know the areas where you work best. You could jump in line and try to do everything, but do we do that?” She tickled Katie, who trilled with laughter. “No, never. We specialize.”
Tess smiled down at Katie, but her eyes were serious. “And never compromise your integrity or your quality. It will show in your work—and in your life.”
On her lap Katherine Matilda McCall cooed and her bright eyes blinked. She seemed to tilt her head, listening seriously.
“Most important of all, plan well but dream big. Your father taught me that.” Tess smoothed a silky strand of hair from her daughter’s forehead. “That was the most wonderful gift he gave me.” Her lips curved. “Well, almost the most wonderful gift. I have to say that you win the grand prize there, my love.”
Behind her, Tobias Jackson McCall stood motionless in the doorway, watching the two females he loved most rock quietly in the afternoon sun. There was a fullness at his chest as he thought how Tess had made his house a home and had won the trust and admiration of a whole town.
The new clinic was half built and the high school now boasted a brand-new computer department, thanks to Tess’s expertise and unflagging enthusiasm. There was even a weekly lecture program at the historic jail.
Shouts drifted from the courtyard, where Maria’s grandchildren were playing astronauts with the mayor’s husband. A bus lurched over the gravel drive, laughter spilling from its windows.
T.J. watch the excited faces of the children, who had been documenting desert ecology on the other side of his ranch. Back at school, their photographs and finished reports would be transferred to computers for an exchange with their sister school in Boston. Through her contacts, Tess had arranged for computers for both schools and an Internet link that would allow both sets of children to glimpse a way of life that was different from all that they held familiar. The exchange program was being studied as a possible model for other schools in rural areas.
Yes, T.J. thought, Tess was dragging them all kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century, and she didn’t even seem to realize it.
He crossed the slope toward his wife, who was speaking softly to her daughter.
“And always, always give the client more than they expected.”
T.J. bent and tickled his daughter’s cheek. “You’ll have her a tycoon before she can walk,” he murmured.
Tess tilted her head back and received a very satisfactory kiss. “And you’ll have her riding bareback before she can talk, cowboy.”
“I walked her around the corral only a few minutes. She was safe in my arms the whole time,” he protested.
“I knew she was safe.” Tess had loved the sight of the two of them, gently moving on a docile mare hand-picked by T.J. A photograph of that day now graced the big refrigerator in the kitchen, surrounded by congratulatory notes about Katie’s birth sent by Annie, Mrs. Spinelli, and her other friends in Boston.
“The chairs are all arranged. Grady and I put out the tables and tablecloths, and the musicians just arrived.”
“I’d better go help Maria.”
“Maria told me to keep you right here so that you rest. You’ve been running yourself ragged for a week, and she said she can handle everything.” As he spoke, the first strains of music drifted over the hill.
“But she needs—”
“She needs nothing. There are already twenty people in the kitchen helping her.” His eyes filled with warmth. “So why don’t you dance with me instead, Ma’am?”
Her brow arched. “Well, Sheriff, is that an official request or a personal invitation?”
“Personal.” His eyes darkened. “Very personal.”
He cradled Katie in one arm and caught Tess in the other, moving carefully to the drifting music of guitars.
T.J. pulled his two girls closer. “I like to feel you both in my arms.”
“The feeling is mutual, Sheriff.” With a sigh of pleasure, Tess settled against him, more happy than she could ever have imagined. The new millennium had turned her life upside down.
But she had no regrets.
She’d walked away from her hectic life in Boston without a backward glance, knowing everything she needed and wanted was right here.
She had had no more dreams about the city in the sky and the pair of lovers who had met high amid the canyons. Their story seemed finished, their journey completed in peace.
If they were ghosts, they were benign ghosts now.
Some instinct made Tess touch her bright piece of pottery, now set in a bezel of silver and hung from a fine chain at her neck. It brushed her skin, as warm as the glow she saw in her husband’s dark eyes.
His fingers moved, tracing patterns along her back. “Ready to go inside?”
She tilted up her face and received a slow, lingering kiss. “Almost,” she answered as the gentle wind played through her hair. Then the music rose, filling her heart just as the man beside her had filled her life.
And she could have sworn that somewhere she heard the high, restless cry of a coyote.
Author’s Note
Edward Abbey said it best—nature has a grandeur and beauty surpassing anything man can create. Tess and T.J. would certainly agree.
I hope you have enjoyed this look at their corner of the beautiful high desert. If you would like to read more about the Southwest, Edward Abbey is one of the best authors to start with. Desert Solitaire remains one of the finest books of its kind, offering an unflinching look at the “old true world of the deserts.” If you develop an interest in vigas, latillas, and adobe homes, you’ll find detailed descriptions and lavish photographs in Behind Adobe Walls by Landt and Lisl Dennis. T.J., of course, could write his own book on the subject.
With Tess’s help, perhaps he will.
Arizona is home to hundreds of archaeological ruins that continue to perplex experts today. For a wonderful introduction to a complex subject, try The Archaeology of Ancient Arizona by Jefferson Reid and Stephanie Whittlesey. Another excellent source is Ancient Ruins of the Southwest by David Grant Noble. A different perspective comes from the memories of a contemporary resident in A Pima Remembers by George Brown.
History continues, if only we know where to look for it.
And now for chile—a truly hot topic these days. (I can’t resist the pun.) This resilient plant has both medicinal and culinary uses. For authentic southwestern recipes, stop by my Web site at www.christinaskye.com. Mae has promised to post the best of her four-alarm dishes, specially created for Grady and T.J. While you’re there, you’ll also find excerpts of past and future books, reader contests, and the latest updates on life in Almost. You can send me e-mail at talk to [email protected].
You can also write to me at:
15730 North Pima Road
#D4
Suite 313
Scottsdale, Arizona 85260
It has been an absolute delight to write about this luminous corner of the Southwest and some of its eccentric, resilient inhabitants. I have a sneaking suspicion that I will be paying a return visit to Almost sometime in the near future. Until then, I hope that you dream of hot turquoise skies and double rainbows. Most of all, to paraphrase Edward Abbey, may the coyotes always serenade your campfire.
Happy reading,
Christina
To my mother, who always has a host of wonderful stories
And to my grandmother, who came to the Oklahoma Territory in a covered wagon when she was six
With warmest thanks to Connie Rinehold, Connie Flynn, Darleen Speers, Norm and Ruth Johnson, Susan Yarina, Jessica Wulf, Tony Rettig, Liz Wolfe, Heather Hagan, and Terri Hamilton
BOOKS BY CHRISTINA SKYE
Defiant Captive
The Black Rose
Come the Dawn
Come the Night
East of Forever
The Ruby
2000 Kisses
Going Overboard
My Spy
Hot Pursuit
Code Name: Nanny
Code Name: Princess
2000 Kisses Page 31