by Jane Toombs
"Who knows?" Bram's tone was flat. Meaning he didn't care?
"Davis and Pauline shared secrets," she went on, not caring either, but needing to keep her mind locked onto something innocuous.
"He's lucky. Pauline doesn't take to everybody."
"I could see that." Gratefully she hung onto this new topic. "She's definitely one of a kind. I can't imagine her living in a city."
In a way, Bram, too, seemed more suited to the wilds than to city life. Perhaps he lived on a ranch outside of town somewhere.
"Where in Phoenix do you live?" she asked.
"In a suburban house a grateful client sold me. Nice guy, good price. There were some compensations to being a lawyer."
"Do you like living in the city?"
"As long as I can have nights under the stars like this, I don't mind," he said. "I must inherit some of my mother's genes along with my father's wanderlust because I enjoy having a place to come home to. Strange, I never figured to settle in like I have."
"Maybe it's due to Sheba. They say a cat turns a house into a home."
He chuckled. "Overturns a house, is more like it with her. Or was. I can't believe how the kittens have changed my wild and carefree feline into a sedate mother."
"Kids as well as kittens tend to do that to mothers," she said.
"Not all mothers," he told her with wicked suggestiveness threading through his words. "No way would I describe you as sedate."
"Remember, I'm on vacation," she said defensively, secretly thrilled with his insinuation that he'd enjoyed the wild moments they'd shared. He couldn't know he was the only man who'd ever tempted her into forgetting everything but him.
"We'd all enjoy ourselves more if we could think of living as a life-long vacation."
"Fat chance. The necessity to earn a living is no vacation, even if you like what you do." She sighed. "Actually my job's okay, it's just that I hate to--" She broke off, not wanting to reveal any more of her feelings than she already had.
"Why don't you and Davis spend tomorrow night at my place?" Bram said. "There's plenty of room and I know he'll want to pick out his kitten."
Damn the man--he'd set that up so she couldn't refuse. Instead of answering, she said, "Are you really up to the trouble of shipping the kitten to him when it's old enough?"
"I keep my promises." He sounded offended.
"Well, in that case, we accept your kind offer of shelter." She deliberately brought Davis into her answer, letting Bram know she was on to his manipulative ways.
Not that she didn't want to spend the extra time with him, but she feared it would make leaving all the more difficult.
"Are you disappointed there was no Apache gold at the end of the trail?" he asked.
She thought about what she'd found instead. Not the pictographs, awesome though they were. She had discovered something, after all, she'd learned that not all men were like Neal. Bram, at least, treated love-making as the wonder it could be. He was tender and passionate and he made her feel as desirable as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world.
He'd given her back her sexuality. Not that it would do her much good, since, unfortunately, she didn't want to make love with any other man except Bram. There were no other men like Bram.
Careful, girl, she warned herself, you sound like a woman in love.
A moment later, she caught her breath as a realization struck her. She was in love with him. With Bram. She made an inarticulate sound of disbelief and anger. How had she let that happen?
"What's the matter?" he asked. "You okay?"
No, she wasn't okay, she doubted if she ever would be again. "The truth hurts," she muttered.
"Been known to happen," he agreed. "Care to share this particular truth with me?"
"No!" she snapped.
She certainly had no intention of embarrassing them both by blurting out she was in love with him. He'd more or less told her his preference was for brief affairs, no strings attached. Love certainly hadn't entered his mind and, for her own peace of mind, she shouldn't have allowed it room in hers.
"You still owe me a story," he said after a long silence.
"I what?"
"Davis told a story, I told a story--it's your turn. And you don't get off the hook by saying you don't know any."
"I already told you it would have to be the three goats and the troll or nothing."
"I don't buy that. I'm willing to bet you have a storehouse of family stories. Think about it. Was the gold ring tale the only one your Grandmother Ella ever told you?"
"You wouldn't be interested in family stuff."
"Try me."
"Well, now that I think about it, there is something. My grandmother had a sister named Letty, who was older. I wasn't meant to know about this at all, it's an overheard tale. And I wasn't eavesdropping, I was a kid playing with my little cars underneath the dining room table where it was like a cave with the tablecloth hanging down all around me."
"Little cars?" he asked. "You played with cars?"
"They were left over from when my father was a boy. He gave them to me and I loved them. Anyway, the dining room was an ell off the living room where my mother and grandmother were sitting and talking. They had no idea I was under the table when my mother asked why no one ever mentioned Aunt Letty."
"At the time, I didn't even know there was a Letty in the family, so I perked up my ears and began listening. At first my grandmother didn't seem inclined to tell her but my mother persisted."
"'She may have been my own sister," Grandmother said, "but when she did what she did, I felt I had never had known her. Not at all. Of course, our parents disowned her and took all her pictures out of the albums. After that, they never again mentioned her name in my hearing.'"
"'Good heavens, what did Letty do?'" my mother asked.
"I didn't understand all they were saying but I stored the information away and pieced it together when I got old enough to know what some of the words meant. It seems Letty had been offered a job in Las Vegas when all the casinos except one or two were downtown and the mob ran all of them. I guess their parents assumed she was working as a secretary or something like that. Times had been hard on their Iowa farm and they appreciated the money she sent home from time to time."
"Ella was sent wonderful presents, too, and could hardly wait to grow up so she could join her sister in Nevada. None of them had any clue what was going on until Letty made headlines."
"Don't tell me she was a show girl."
"I won't, because she wasn't. Actually, it was clear from the newspaper stories that early on she'd become what Grandmother Ella called 'a fallen woman, and for money, yet,' before she took up with one of the lesser mobsters."
"A gun moll. Fascinating."
"Gun is right--she shot the man. The news stories played it up as a jealousy murder, since she also wounded the 'other woman.' Apparently Letty was let out on bail before the case came to trial because less than a week later she suffered a fatal 'accident' while crossing the street. According to Ella the entire family was relieved."
"It never occurred to any of them that she'd probably been murdered by the mob so she wouldn't have a chance to spill anything she might know. It's hard to believe my great-grandparents could have been so narrow-minded and so innocent."
"Different times," Bram said. "That's quite a story. You're the first person I've known with a notorious great-aunt hidden in her background."
"I've never told any one else her story. Since I've gone this far, I might as well admit that I've always sort of admired her. Not for murdering the man, but for striking out on her own and surviving any way she could in a setting and a time really hostile to women. If Davis had been a girl, I think I might have named him Letty."
"Interesting she was let out on bail. That's unusual in a murder case where there's a witness--in this case, the other woman. No doubt the mob knew who to bribe to get her free long enough to off her."
"I never thought of that. H
ow cold-blooded." Vala shivered.
Evidently Bram saw this because he said, "Getting cold?" Without waiting for an answer he sat up and pulled her over onto his sleeping bag where he put an arm around her, nestling her against his side. "Better?"
"Umm," she murmured. "If I were Sheba, I'd purr."
For a few moments, Bram was content just to have her close to him, but it didn't last long until desire began to override every other emotion. He shifted, turning her face up to him and kissed her.
Her lips were soft and welcoming, she tasted of herself with a slight chocolate overlay from the last bar in the supplies--he'd split it three ways as dessert. Much as he liked chocolate, her flavor was far more addictive.
That's what it was--addiction. He was addicted to Vala. Would he ever be able to kick the habit? Not wanting to think about that just now, he concentrated on the kiss, deepening it, feeling her eager response rage through him. Davis is in the tent, he warned himself. Don't let this get out of hand.
He wouldn't, all he wanted was to hold her in his arms for a while, to kiss and caress her. No, that was a damn lie. What he wanted was to possess her completely and have her possess him as well. He needed to be locked with her in an embrace that would send them both on a trip to the stars. Vala was unique--no other woman was like her, or even came close. She not only aroused him almost past bearing, but she also made him aware of his own strength, strength he could and would use to protect her, to keep her safe always. "Sweet Vala," he whispered against her lips. "My beautiful Vala. Mine."
The last word echoed in his mind, mocking him. No matter how many times he might say it, she wasn't his.
"Bram," she breathed. "We can't."
No, they couldn't, not under the circumstances. But he let her go reluctantly.
After they'd bedded down, each with a sleeping bag partially zipped up, she reached a hand to him and he grasped it. He half smiled, thinking he'd never in his life believed he'd be lying next to a woman he needed in the worst way and do nothing more than hold her hand.
He supposed it meant something significant, but he didn't care to probe into that. Safety lay in keeping cool, in not making promises he couldn't keep.
When he finally started to drift off, a stray thought floated across his mind. When he first set eyes on the kitten yowling at his front door, he had no intention of keeping her, none at all. A pet anchored you down. He needed to be free, needed no restrictions, no responsibilities. He still felt that way. Didn't he?
Maybe. But, for better or for worse, somehow Sheba had become his cat. He wouldn't dream of parting with her. Half-asleep, he couldn't quite make the connection between Sheba and Vala. Probably because there wasn't any.
Chapter 13
Bram roused in the morning to Davis's voice saying, "Aren't you guys ever gonna wake up? I already got the tent down by myself."
Glancing at Vala, Bram saw her blinking drowsily. "Morning," she mumbled.
"I figure the sooner we get going," Davis said, "The sooner we get breakfast at Brenden's Bronco Corral."
Bram yawned and stretched. "Right as usual," he told Davis.
Since Vala had slept in her clothes, she had nothing to do but slide out and reach for her socks and boots. Bram, though, had stripped down to his shorts. In deference to Davis's modesty where Vala was concerned, he said, "All females present turn your backs," before emerging and reaching for his jeans.
Her smile was amused when she turned to look at him after he sounded the all clear.
"Gee," she said as they saddled up, "I worked dang hard learning all this stuff about horses and now the trip's almost over. It isn't a skill I'll need to use back in New York, you know."
"You always tell me nothing learned is ever wasted," Davis pointed out.
"Good advice always comes back to haunt you," Bram told her with a grin.
"Everything I brought along is dirty, including me," she said to him as they started off. "I hope you've got a washer and dryer."
"How come you're asking Bram that, Mom?"
"Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Bram's invited us to spend tonight at his place."
"You mean I get to see the kittens? Cool."
"You can pick the one you want," Bram reminded him. "Even name it. I'll ship your kitten to you later."
They soon came out onto the flat. If either Davis or Vala realized the night camp hadn't been necessary, neither said so. Could be they both, like him, hated to see the trip end.
Once they reached Brenden's, Bram told Mac about the pack horse going lame. "Seems okay now, but you might want to check him."
He then took Mac aside and told him privately that the bill for the horses was to go to him, unlike the customary arrangement of being paid for by the person who'd hired him. Mac raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
After they ate, Vala thanked Mac for choosing Susie Q for her, adding, "She's the only horse that could ever have put up with me."
"Figured you wasn't much of a rider," he said.
When she asked about paying him, he told her it'd been taken care of. Vala glanced at Bram inquisitively and he smiled. He'd explain later.
Again, Davis asked to ride in his pickup and Vala gave her permission.
"We'll swing by the airport so you can get rid of that rental car," Bram suggested. "It's on the way to my place. I can just as well take you there tomorrow to catch your flight."
When Vala hesitated, he added, "I'm planning to see you off anyway."
She agreed and followed him to the airport. At the rental return, while Bram was transferring the last suitcase from the car to his pickup, he overheard the attendant ask Vala if she was planning to fly out today.
"No," she said. "Tomorrow."
"Reason I asked," the man went on, "is I figure maybe you ain't heard they plan on shutting down a lot of the airports east of us on account of that winter storm."
"Thanks, I didn't know about that," she told him. "Surely things will be better tomorrow."
The man shook his head. "You better call and make sure in the morning. They say it's some storm."
"You mean we might get stranded here?" Davis asked. "Yay!"
Bram kept his mouth shut but couldn't squelch a pleased smile.
Vala frowned, saying something about if she was delayed, she hoped she'd still have a job when she got back. "My boss wasn't too thrilled about giving me this time off," she finished.
"I wouldn't care if we never went back," Davis said. "I like Arizona."
Sitting between Bram and Vala in the pickup, he chattered most of the way to their destination, pointing out sights along the way and asking questions.
Vala listened to her son with half an ear. The news about the storm had upset her a little--mostly because the delay was only that. A delay. She'd still have to go back to New York sooner or later. All it really meant would be a prolonged goodbye instead of a quick closure.
"Mom?" Davis said. "You look cross."
She blinked. "I'm not, I'm just a little worried about getting home."
"What for? We're gonna be at Bram's house, not that crummy motel."
"I thought you liked the motel pool," she was provoked into saying.
"You weren't listening. Bram's got a pool. And a Jacuzzi. And he's gonna find his guitar and maybe teach me to play."
She glanced across at Bram. "All in one day?"
He shrugged. "Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and the storm'll hang on for a week."
"You two are impossible."
"Come on," Bram coaxed, "admit you can't wait to soak in the Jacuzzi."
Since she'd been thinking how good that would feel, she gave him a reluctant grin, then turned back to the window, firmly repressing any visions of Bram stripped down for the Jacuzzi. She concentrated on the passing scene.
How Phoenix had changed since she'd lived here! Much larger for one thing--there didn't seem to be any end to the city sprawl. But, compared to the east coast cities where the winter turned everything drab and dingy
a week after a snow-fall, Phoenix looked bright and colorful.
With the sun's warmth coming through the open windows of the pickup cab, it was hard to believe a storm was closing airports across the rest of the country. Since there was nothing she could do to change what was happening, she decided to relax and enjoy whatever extra time she might have to spend here.
One thing was certain--Davis was happy about it. Bram, too, seemed pretty enthusiastic about spending more time in their company. And the truth was she couldn't really say she was sorry.
She looked at her son. "Once we get to Bram's, first things first, kid."
He eyed her resignedly. "I suppose that means I got to take a shower right away. Even before I see the kittens?"
"You know it."
"Happens I have two showers," Bram put in, slanting a wicked glance at Vala.
"Being a gentleman, I'm sure you'd allow me to use yours first," she said as demurely as she could. "But I'll wait until Davis takes his shower and then use that one."
Not long after this, Bram left the freeway via an offramp and turned onto a residential street.
"Look at all the orange trees right in people's yards," Davis said.
"Arizona grapefruit are better than Arizona oranges," Bram cautioned. "The oranges tend to be bitter."
After a few blocks he entered a dead-end street and pulled into a driveway, hitting the garage door opener as he did. When the door lifted he parked next to a sporty-looking silver BMW already in the garage.
Seeing her looking at it, he said, "What I use on those rare occasions when I have to remember I'm a lawyer."
Vala smiled. "I suppose you keep the necktie in the car."
They entered the house through a connecting door and were immediately confronted by a vocal Sheba. She twined around Bram's legs, assessing them with her beautiful blue eyes.
"She sounds like she's scolding you," Davis told Bram. "Right. She's annoyed because I dared to go away and leave her." He lifted the cat into his arms and she immediately climbed onto his shoulder.
"Neato," Davis said.
Bram led them to the two guest rooms, which shared a bathroom, and Vala shooed Davis into the shower there, telling him she'd lay out clean clothes on his bed. Thank heaven she'd left one clean set in the car for each of them to go home in.