by Helen Conrad
“No,” she said shortly. “But I guess I could hitch a ride from someone. There’s plenty of traffic out there.” She looked at him defiantly, daring him to abandon her.
He turned reluctantly toward her again. He knew the score as well as she did, but he was going to avoid facing it for as long as he could. “You can’t go and stick your thumb out on that highway.” He glanced up at the hills she’d come tumbling out of. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to find that horse of yours.”
She shook her head. “He’s halfway back to his stable by now.”
He sighed, gritting his teeth. “I thought this was your land. Why don’t you just walk home?”
“Across these rocky hills in the dark? I’d break my leg for sure.”
He watched her for a long moment. He wasn’t going to offer. She was going to have to ask. They glared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to give in.
“I don’t suppose you could give me a ride into town?” Jessie said stiffly.
He shook his head, grasping at straws. “Nope. I’m heading in the opposite direction.”
Jessie threw one last despairing glance toward the highway. That damn sheriff! After all these years of boasting, when he finally got a chance to play the hero, he missed his cue.
She hated the thought of getting into a car with this man. She already knew he was a crook. Lord only knew what else he was. She’d be taking a chance—but what choice did she have? She had to get that reward money.
She looked at him searchingly. “Actually, that’s the way I’m going, too. I’ve got to get to Tucson,” she added quickly. “I... I was on my way there when my horse threw me.” She wasn’t going to let this man out of her sight. She’d have to stick with him and wait for a chance to call the cops.
“You were going to ride to Tucson on horseback tonight?” Even he knew that was impossible. “Come on. Give me a break.” His sharp glance swept over her. “Besides, you said you wanted a ride into town.”
“I changed my mind.”
Skepticism washed across his face. “That’s some woman’s prerogative you’re claiming there.”
She took a step toward him. “Look, it’s none of your business what I was doing or where I want to go. But I could use a ride. And since you’ve got an empty seat...” She shrugged. “Why not let me sit in it?”
He hesitated. He didn’t want to take her along, but a sudden thought occurred to him. Maybe she was running, too. A kindred spirit in a strange land. He studied her for a moment, interested in spite of himself. The dark brown eyes were cool, unfriendly. He couldn’t tell if she was pretty or not, not with the dirt smudged on her cheek and the hair coming loose in a wispy tangle around her face. He’d thought she was young at first, but on closer observation he realized she wasn’t a kid. There was no baby softness to her lean cheeks, no naive uncertainty to the set of her mouth. She appeared tough. Only one thing gave away the fact that she wasn’t totally at ease. Her thumbs were hooked into the loops at the belt of her jeans, giving a casual look to her stance, but her other fingers were clenching and unclenching nervously.
“I suppose I could give you a ride,” he admitted at last.
“Great.” She didn’t give him a chance to change his mind, striding quickly to the passenger side of the car and climbing in. “Thanks a lot.”
He settled in beside her, casting one long look of reproach before he started the car. “Don’t mention it,” he said sardonically. He pulled the car out onto the highway and headed toward Tucson, very carefully keeping to the speed limit.
CHAPTER THREE
The Big Lonely Nothing
Jessie unclenched her hands and tried to relax. At first she thought there must be something wrong with the car’s engine, but at last she realized that the thumping she heard was her own heart. She took a deep breath, trying to settle herself. Here she was in a car with a wanted man. She’d have to stay cool, stay calm and think everything out before she made any more moves.
For a fugitive, he didn’t seem very nervous. She watched his hands. They were steady on the wheel. He wore no rings, no bracelet. She risked a quick glance at his face. It was totally expressionless, as though he were a million miles away, as though he’d forgotten all about her.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked, unable to stand the silence any longer.
He grunted but made no other sign that he’d heard her.
“You on a business trip?”
For all the response she got, he might have been deaf. Jessie couldn’t resist a challenge like that. She leaned forward in her seat.
“Where are you headed, anyway?” she asked more loudly, letting him know she wasn’t going to give up. “California?”
She got an answer this time. He swung his gaze to her, his eyes piercing. “What’s it to you?” he growled.
She blinked, but held her ground. “If you don’t want to answer the question, forget it,” she snapped. “But you don’t have to bite my head off,”
He turned back to his driving, but the icy chill lingered. “I don’t like questions,” he muttered.
She wet her lips, looking around her for another topic. “This is a nice car,” she said at last, reaching out to touch the wood of the dashboard.
“I like it,” he said, and she hid her grin at his more moderate tone. She’d actually pulled a civil response out of him,
“Does it handle well on the highway?” she asked.
His hands gripped the wheel more tightly, but he answered once again. “Yes.”
“Great.” She was feeling pretty pleased with herself. He didn’t want to talk, but she was making him do it, anyway. He wasn’t so tough. “I’ll bet you don’t have any kids, do you? They sure wouldn’t fit in a car this size.”
“Listen,” he said, throwing her a despairing glance before looking back at the road. “What are you after, the story of my life or something?”
She managed to sound insulted. “I’m just trying to make polite conversation.”
“I don’t want polite conversation.”
She sniffed, letting him know she felt rebuffed. “Sorry.”
Michael shook his head. Against his better judgment, he was relenting. Half turning to look at her, he gritted his teeth, then said gruffly, “Okay, you want a conversation? You tell me why you were going to Tucson in the middle of the night on the back of a horse.”
“I reckon that’s my business, same as your destination’s yours,” she muttered, turning to stare out the window into the blackness.
“Exactly my point.”
They were silent for a moment. Headlights flashed by, cars going in the opposite direction. Cars full of families, friends. And here she was, riding with a thief.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said a few minutes later, seemingly having changed his mind about talking. “I’ll bet you’re running from something.”
She half smiled. “Not me.”
“Oh, no?” He looked over at her, his gaze taking in everything and recording it. “No ring. I’d say you weren’t married. But you’ve got a boyfriend.”
She snorted her disdain for his theorizing.
“Sure,” he said smoothly, beginning to enjoy this. “His name’s Curly. He’s a cowboy. But he left you in the lurch, moved to Tucson to found a home for unwed horses, and now you’re following him—“
“You city jerks think you’re so damn superior!” Jessie’s anger erupted suddenly. “Keep your snotty jokes to yourself, mister. I don’t need them. Anyway, you’re just trying to get around having to tell anything about yourself by pestering me.”
Funny, she was thinking all the time she spoke, her sense of humor seemed to have curled up in a corner and died. She didn’t usually overreact like this. But something about this man got to her. She just couldn’t stand to have him making fun of her, or her way of life.
Michael saw that. For a moment, he was tempted to tease her again, just to see how mad he could get her. But one
look at her strained face dissuaded him. “I’m not exactly the Lone Ranger, you know,” he said, instead. “You haven’t been spilling your guts, either.”
She wasn’t yet mollified. She nestled back against the door, as far from him as she could get. “You won’t even admit you’re going to California,” she grumbled.
He shook his head. “I’m not headed for California. I’ve got another destination in mind.”
She looked at him sideways, trying to guess where a crook would go. “Las Vegas, maybe? After all, there isn’t much else going north.”
His sigh of exasperation was audible. “How about Canada?” he suggested icily. “How about the North Pole?”
“It sure looks like you’re the one running away from something, mister,” she said softly, insinuatingly. “You’re either in a hurry to get somewhere or in a hurry to get away from something. Which is it?”
He didn’t answer, but she knew he’d heard. She also knew she was cutting much too close to the bone, taking chances. She never had learned when to keep her mouth shut. That was what Beau always used to say.
Beau. Why on earth was she thinking about her ex-husband at a time like this? The marriage had lasted for only eighteen months and had been over for almost five years now. Hardly anyone even remembered it but her.
She glanced into the back seat of the car, wondering where he’d hidden the gems. In the seats, probably. Or maybe behind the door panels. Did he have the money with him, too? All that money. Some people seemed to get it so easily. All her life she’d scraped and saved and struggled. For just a moment she let her mind dwell on what money like that could do for the ranch and for Harley’s restaurant. Stock. Equipment. New hands.
She shuddered again, and frowned. It didn’t do anyone a bit of good to go pining after impossibilities. That money belonged to someone. She hated stealing, hated a thief. For once, she was going to do something about it.
Still, she was curious. Where had he hidden his booty? She glanced into the back seat again, but her eye was caught by something through the rear window. About a half mile behind, partly hidden by the traffic, was a flashing red light. The cops. Coming toward them, gaining fast.
She swung around and stared at Michael. His eyes were on the rearview mirror. He’d seen it, too. Her heart began to thump again. If they caught him now, would she get any credit? Probably not. This had to be the highway patrol, not Sheriff Jensen. They were far out of his jurisdiction by now.
Damn!
Michael pulled over into the right lane and slowed. Her hands gripped the edge of the seat as she turned around to look. The flashing red light was right behind them and the siren was blaring loudly, filling the car with a scream that hurt her ears. Her breath caught in her throat. The red light flashed through the inside of the car, bathing them both in its garish glare. And then the police car was pulling around them, racing on ahead into the dark night, targeting some other victim.
“Wow,” she said when she could breathe again. “I thought he was going to pull you over there for a minute.”
“So did I.” His voice was low, steady. She looked at him carefully, but could detect no sign of his having been shaken. Still, she knew this must be what he’d gone through all day. Perhaps, all his life. He turned suddenly, and his silver-blue eyes met her gaze and held it, daring her to say something. She kept very still, breathing more easily when he turned back to his driving.
Did he suspect she knew who he was? No. How could he? And yet... he felt something. She could tell. That look he’d just given her had been so aware that she felt very uneasy.
She thought of Beau again, and this time she knew why. Beau had been the football star at her high school. When he’d first asked out Jessie the tomboy, people had snickered. But there’d been a feeling between Beau and her, something so strong, so irresistible, they’d called it love.
Jessie knew better now. It hadn’t been love at all. Their ill-fated marriage had proven that. It was something else again, something that had landed her in trouble more than once. And she’d just felt a strong hint of it when Michael’s gaze had met hers. Reason enough to steer clear of him.
They rode on in silence. Mile after mile raced beneath the wheels, the road noise monotonous, wearying. They were still thirty miles out of Tucson, when Michael spoke again.
“Sometimes,” he muttered, more to himself than at her, “it seems like this desert will never end.”
She looked out the window at the vast darkness broken only by the lights from the cars that streamed along the highway. Nothing stood out in the gloom, but she knew what was out there. Saguaro cacti. Ocotillos. Coyotes. Red-tailed hawks. It was home to her and more comforting than city lights could ever be.
“You’re just not used to it,” she told him a little smugly.
“It’s like driving through hell.”
The bleakness of his tone cut through her. She stared at him openly, wonderingly. Then she frowned, cutting off the compassion she’d begun to feel, letting anger flare, instead. She wanted him harder, colder, like a criminal should be. She wanted to hate him, not sympathize. Sure, it was probably pretty rough, running from the law. But that certainly wasn’t her problem.
“That’s silly,” she snapped in answer.
Michael was tired. His neck ached and his eyes stung. He’d driven miles with no one to talk to, and suddenly he felt he needed to talk. She could laugh; she could scorn him. He didn’t care. He was going to put the things he’d been feeling into words for another human to hear. Maybe then this whole trip would seem less like a nightmare.
“There’s nothing out there,” he said softly, his voice low, almost spooky. “Can’t you feel it? Nothing. A big lonely nothing.” He looked out his side window into the darkness. “Or if there is something, it’s bad. Don’t you feel it?” he asked again softly. “Evil. Like all the sins and vices of humanity are hovering, waiting, gathering forces....”
Jessie wasn’t sure she knew what he was talking about, but a shudder went through her and she wanted him to quit. “You’re nuts, mister,” she said scathingly. “The way I see it, cities are full of all those things. At least, it sure looks that way, from what I’ve seen. All those tenements with busted windows, the bums all over the streets. That sure looks more like hell to me. The Sonoran desert is beautiful,” she added defensively. “More like God’s country, I’d say.”
Michael stretched in his seat, a slight smile curling the corners of his mouth. It was working. Somehow he’d sensed she would do this. He’d thrown out some of the crazy thoughts he’d been having and she’d shaken them free of their wrinkles, hung them up to dry and shown him how everyday they really were. He could feel himself relaxing.
“You’ve got it all wrong about cities,” he told her, almost cheerful now. “Sure, there are bad areas. But there are also beautiful homes and opera houses and music centers and fancy stores and libraries… .”
She shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’d never go to any of the big ones, like New York, or Chicago or San Francisco.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
They were both silent for a long time. Jessie couldn’t help but think about how far they were getting from home and safety. Every mile took away a bit more of her security. She wished she knew what she was going to do next, how she was going to get the authorities to him without his knowing about it. And then a chance presented itself.
“Can you recommend a good, low-priced motel to stay at in Tucson?” he asked suddenly. “I’m dead tired. I’m going to have to get some sleep.”
She nodded, moving about in the seat. “Sure, I know a good place. We used to stay there when I was a teenager and groups of us would come up for football games and parties.”
“I don’t need any party hotel.”
“No, this is a good, out-of-the-way place. It’s not even in Tucson—it’s in a little town called Moav. And it’s right near where I’m going, so you can just drop me off.”
He nodded slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He would have sold his soul for a good night’s sleep in a proper bed. This running was working hell on his physical condition. “Sounds perfect.”
She almost smiled. Everything was falling into place. “Yes, I’m sure it will be.”
He was almost sorry to think of losing her now. She’d been fairly good company, and he was sick of nothing but his own thoughts to keep him going.
He glanced at her. Oncoming headlights outlined her profile in white light. Involuntarily his gaze slipped down to the open neck of her shirt. Her skin was tanned and smooth, creamy looking in the light. Her jacket had fallen open, and beneath it he could see her breasts straining against the cotton cloth, somehow fuller, softer looking then he’d expected. He felt a stirring he hadn’t experienced in a long, long while, and for just a moment, he imagined her in the longed-for bed with him.
Swearing under his breath, he looked away quickly, clenching the wheel and frowning. None of that. He had places to go and things to do, and if anyone knew from experience how getting tangled up with a woman could deter a man from his goals, he ought to. Suddenly he was ready to dump her at the nearest bus stop.
But it wasn’t long before the lights of Tucson shone on the horizon like a giant’s treasure of scattered diamonds, lighting up the night sky. The lights of Moav, off to the left, were duller, more orange than white. At last Michael turned the car onto the main street and they cruised down it, past the Three Bar Three Motel, the Golden Horseshoe, the Happy Hours Bar.
“There it is.” She pointed out the Blue Lagoon Motel. Her heart was beginning to pound again.
He slowed and stopped just before he reached the driveway in front of the row of little bungalows trying to look like a resort motor inn. “Where can I take you?” he asked, looking at her searchingly. “I can’t just leave you here on the street.”
Anger churned in her again. Why not? A criminal wasn’t supposed to care if a woman got safely home or not. What was the matter with this man? He was supposed to be cruder.