Where are we going with one another? she wondered as she lay in his arms. We have such a roller-coaster relationship. You lift me up higher than I’ve ever been and yet, like the restless ocean you are, you have the capacity to hurl me deeper into a morass than anyone ever has. Cat studied Slade intently, trying to find the answers she sought. Last night, when he’d told her she didn’t have to build that mine, she had felt a deep sense of relief. Slade had no ulterior motives where she was concerned, and he had proved it by releasing her from any obligation to him. She didn’t want anything to happen to Slade. And yet, until that moment, Cat hadn’t realized just how much he meant to her.
What was that saying? You must love someone enough to let them go, and if they come back to you it’s from love. But if they leave and don’t return, perhaps love was never there, anyway. Cat’s eyes darkened as she focused on Slade’s features. Do I love you? I don’t know. I’m not sure. And then she almost laughed aloud because Slade had admitted as much to her last night: that she had somehow become more important to him than anything else in his life. Did he love her? He hadn’t said so. And she was old enough to know that if Slade did, he’d tell her in time. Yes, time…time would yield what was and was not between them.
Cat found herself wanting a chance to find out where life would lead them. They’d had a rocky start with one another, and she knew it would become rockier because they had another equally powerful test before them: entering a mine. Now, however, Cat no longer struggled with the fear because she knew that when the time came, Slade would be there to help her.
Suddenly shaky at the thought, Cat grew uncomfortable. Slade would receive nothing from her, while she would be taking from him. Well, she must trust Slade on this point, let him guide and help her. All she had to do was communicate when she was in trouble. Somehow, Slade made her feel relaxed, almost eager to work with him, no matter what dangers the mine posed to either of them.
*
“Are you ready?”
Slade’s tone was filled with amusement as he held Cat with one arm, his other hand wrapped around the pole of the carousel horse they sat upon.
A peal of laughter burst from Cat as she felt the merry-go-round gently start to move. She cast a look over at Kai and Matt, sitting haphazardly on another horse ahead of them. “Ready,” she promised. Rich, warm feelings flowed through Cat as the memory of their night and day together came back to her.
Slade grinned happily. “After this, how about a round of bumper cars?” He kept a firm grip on Cat so she wouldn’t fall as the horse moved up and down in time with the music. “Where’s that sense of challenge you always like to grab by the horns, Kincaid?”
“Challenges, not death-defying feats, Donovan! Agh!” She nearly lost her balance when Slade moved around on the rear of the horse. Cat clung to the pole, but the carousel horse simply wasn’t big enough for both of them. Still, she enjoyed Slade’s closeness. She leaned back, catching his dancing sapphire gaze. “No bumper cars. Do you want me to crack my ribs again?”
Slade looked crestfallen. “Oh, sorry. I forgot.” He brightened. “The Ferris wheel, then?”
With a moan, Cat said, “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll buy you cotton candy as a bribe. No Ferris wheel, no cotton candy,” he teased, nibbling gently on her exposed earlobe.
With a laugh, Cat dodged his moist, tantalizing tongue. “You’re such a rogue, Slade Donovan! You and Matt go on the Ferris wheel. Kai and I will find something tamer to ride.
“Come on, Kai,” Cat said, as they walked out the exit. She pointed toward the merry-go-round again. “I think we girls ought to stick together. Men can take all the wild rides they want, just like how they drove cars when they were eighteen: without us.”
Kai giggled and followed Cat after the men were safely aboard the huge Ferris wheel. “I think we ought to have liability insurance around Slade and Matt,” Kai said good-naturedly.
Cat couldn’t stop laughing as they made their way back up to the brightly painted horses. The men had bought them each cotton candy and they sat aboard their chargers waiting for the music and movement to begin.
Kai’s eyes gleamed with humor. “It feels strange to be at an amusement park again. I haven’t done this since I was a kid of fourteen.”
“I suspect Slade never grew up,” Cat pointed out dryly, watching the Ferris wheel slowly start rotating in the distance.
“Ever since Slade bought the ranch, things haven’t been the same out in Del Rio, either.” Kai chortled. Slowly, the horses began to rise and fall beneath them, the music lilting and infectious.
“I can imagine. Slade constantly catches me by surprise,” Cat agreed.
“Welcome to the club!” Kai’s smile was warm. “Matt and I have been hoping for such a long time that Slade would find someone like you, Cat.” She reached out, squeezing her hand for a moment. “We can tell Slade loves you.”
Shock almost made her fall off her horse. Cat stared at Kai. “Slade loves me?”
“You know that misunderstanding you two had two weeks ago?”
“Yes?”
“Slade came over that day, Cat. He wanted to talk so I dragged him into the living room to tell me why he was so moon-eyed.”
“Moon-eyed?”
Kai grinned. “A Texas expression. It means sad.”
“I see.”
“I pulled everything out of Slade, piece by piece,” Kai went on. She flashed Cat an understanding look. “He felt terrible about what he said to you. I don’t want to seem like a nosy neighbor or anything, and I know it’s none of our business, but Slade sometimes, in his haste to make something right that’s going wrong, digs himself a deeper hole.”
Cat nodded. “He did, Kai. But he apologized, too.”
“Then things are better between you?”
Better? Cat thought, a rush of heat suffusing her. “Yes, much better,” she reassured Kai.
“Oh, wonderful!”
Fifteen minutes later, Slade and Matt swooped up from behind them, each grabbing his respective woman.
“Gotcha!” Slade growled, whisking Cat off the horse and into his arms.
Her eyes widened considerably as they wobbled off balance for a second before righting themselves. “You’re going to kill me, Slade Donovan!”
He chuckled and gently lowered her to the ground. “Have I yet?” he demanded archly.
“It’s just a matter of where and when,” Cat muttered as his large hands spanned her waist and he slipped behind her.
“Trust me,” he coaxed near her ear, kissing her quickly.
Cat smiled, melting all over again at his nearness. “I do and you know it.”
“Mmm, do you ever.”
For the next three hours, Cat felt like a teenager again. The fact that they were one of the few older couples at the amusement park that Saturday night didn’t bother them. She and Kai watched the men ride the bumper cars, Slade trying to show off for her by outmaneuvering Matt on the slick steel surface of the arena. The safety of the rail was comforting as Slade missed Matt and collided with two ten-year-olds because he couldn’t control the direction of his car. Cat howled with laughter until her ribs started to hurt. But it was worth it just to laugh freely again. The ten-year-olds quickly disengaged themselves from Slade’s plodding car and he waved to her. Only his pride had been impaired in the melee. Matt hustled his bumper car through an opening and smashed Slade’s car from the other side of the enclosure. Slade spent the remainder of the ride backing out of the corner, only to be hit and driven back into it by every gleeful kid around. The entire rink broke into cheers as Slade drew a white handkerchief from his back pocket and waved it above his head in surrender, bowing to his ill-begotten fate.
Afterward, they drove to a nearby A & W. Cat had to laugh. Somehow a silver Mercedes-Benz just didn’t look at home among all the souped-up pickups and gussied-up vans that jammed the place. But Slade was oblivious; he was having too much fun ordering from the machine.
Soon a waitress on roller skates came out with a tray loaded with hamburgers, icy glasses of root beer and hot french fries for their late-evening snack. The car rang with nonstop laughter, and most of the time, Cat was laughing so hard that tears came to her eyes.
“Honestly,” Cat told everyone, “I can’t ever remember having had a better time.”
Slade was pleased and fed Cat some more french fries.
“My stomach aches from laughing so much,” Kai confided.
“My rear is bruised,” Matt added dolefully, giving Slade an accusing look.
“My ribs hurt,” Cat said, smiling at Slade, “but it was worth it.”
Kai prodded Slade. “Come on, big guy, something has to hurt on you, too. After all, you were the one who thought he was a kamikaze pilot dive-bombing all those poor, defenseless kids out there in the bumper-car ring.”
Slade’s laughter was deep and rolling. He threw up both his hands in a gesture of peace. “Hey, what can I say? I’m just a kid trapped in a thirty-five-year-old body.” He showed them a scraped elbow. “See? Do I get a Purple Heart for all my efforts?”
The car rocked with more laughter. An intense feeling of warmth encircled Cat as she met Slade’s cobalt eyes and his roguish smile. So much was happening so quickly. One night in his arms had deeply changed her, for Slade made her feel good about herself, despite everything.
*
“Happy?” Slade asked later, pulling her into his arms.
Cat contentedly fitted herself beside him, the satin of her apricot silk gown molding against his heated, hard body. She sighed, glad to be in his arms, his breath moist across her cheek.
“Happy?” she murmured throatily, sliding her arms around his neck. “I’m floating.”
He chuckled, kissing her cheek, eyes and nose, and then rested his mouth against her smiling, lush lips that parted to his advance. “Even with that bruise I found on your pretty derriere? What did you do, fall off the carousel horse?”
Cat leaned up, molding her lips to his strong, male mouth, lost in the heat of their tender exchange. His jaw was rough against her cheek, his skin smelled of soap and his hair was damp beneath her gentle fingers. “You know I got it when you dragged me off the horse,” she teased. Slade’s lips caught hers in a devouring kiss, and she melted as his knowing touch set her on fire again. “Oh, Slade, somehow you take the hurt away from me…” Cat rested against him, staring up into his smoldering blue eyes as he lay above her.
“Don’t sound so surprised, sweetheart. Occasionally, people can do good things for one another.”
“You make me feel magical,” Cat said, cupping his stubborn jaw. Then with a tremulous sigh, she whispered, “I don’t know when I’ve ever felt happier, or laughed so much. You’re good for me.”
“We’re good for each other; it’s not a one-way street, Cat.” Slade tunneled his fingers through her silky hair, his voice deep with emotion. “We’ve had a rough and, if you’ll pardon the pun, rocky start.” He grimaced. “And it can get rockier.”
She frowned, hearing the worry in his voice. “What do you mean?”
“Are you planning on going down to Bogotà with me on Monday?”
“Yes.”
Slade rested his hand against her back and hip. “Look, I meant what I said about your not going. You could stay at the ranch, if you want or–go to another job assignment.” It hurt to say the last of that sentence. “I think too much of you, Cat, and what might be, to have you go down to Bogotà unless you’re very clear as to why you’re going. I don’t want you to go out of guilt. The slate is clean between us.”
The troubled look in Slade’s eyes made her heart wrench, and Cat offered him a slight smile. “I’m very clear about why I’m going down there with you, Slade. It’s not out of guilt.”
He accepted her explanation. Cat and their relationship were more important to him than the mine. The softness of her skin as he stroked her cheek sent another wave of exquisite longing through him. “It’s going to be dangerous, Cat.”
“What mine isn’t?”
“I mean outside the mine. You’ll have to wear a pistol at all times, and we’ll be followed and watched. You’ll have to have eyes in the back of your head.”
“I’ve been in some pretty tense situations before, Slade. I’m no stranger to carrying a pistol when I have to. My dad taught me how to hit what I aimed at.”
“Those guaqueros are tough and dangerous. They’ve been bred and raised in the back alleys of Bogotà’s slums. If they think you’re carrying an emerald on you, they’ll slit your throat to get it.”
Cat gave an exasperated sigh. “Slade, why, all of a sudden, are you trying to scare me out of going?”
“Because,” he said thickly, leaning down to capture her lips, “your life means more to me than green fire.”
Chapter Ten
Pools of sweat had darkened the color of Slade’s khaki short-sleeved shirt, and Cat wiped her brow with the back of her hand, grimacing. For seventy-five miles, they had bumped along in a ten-year-old Jeep on the only rutted dirt road leading from Bogotà to the emerald fields of the Muzo Valley. They passed several motley-looking groups of men, all stripped to the waist, their coffee-colored skin glistening from the harsh sun overhead and the humidity of the surrounding tropical forest. When they were near the guaqueros, Cat placed her hand over the handle of her revolver. The guaqueros glared, their dark, narrowed eyes quickly appraising Cat and Slade, trying to determine whether they were carrying emeralds.
Cat glanced over at Slade. All his attention was focused on keeping the Jeep on the miserable excuse for a road they were on. It had been washed out due to an unexpected thunderstorm the day before. Mud was everywhere. The guaqueros were covered with mud; only the whites of their wary eyes were visible. Despite the hardships, however, Cat was happy. She was back in the field once again, braving the inhospitable elements that seemed to come with sinking a shaft in some remote part of the world. Only when she thought about having to go in and inspect the mine shaft soon to be under construction did the black fear envelop her.
They crossed the brackish Rio Itoco on their way past Muzo Valley. The river’s once-clear waters had turned black with gritty shale washed down into it by the heartless bulldozers. Cat saw hundreds of guaqueros in the river at the V of the valley, backs bent as they sluiced through the river’s lifeblood. They sought the one precious pebble that would bring them a better life. Slade had told her that if a guaquero found one emerald a year he was lucky. In the same breath, he’d said: “The instant the emerald is found, the smart guaquero will hide it. If others have seen him discover it, they’ll ambush him on the only road to Bogotà. If he’s smart, he’ll sell it to one of the esmeralderos who wait on the banks of the Rio Itoco.”
Her heart went out to the treasure seekers. Cat saw not only men, but women and children amongst those who crowded in the Rio Itoco’s shallow waters.
“You never said there were women and children out here, Slade.”
It was his turn to grimace. He took off the baseball cap he wore to protect himself from the overhead sun. Blinding shafts stole in between the straight pao d’arco trees swathed in reptilian-looking vines. “Didn’t want to depress you, Cat. It’s a sad state of affairs down here. The women and even the children dig tunnels into Muzo’s shale mountains at night. Sometimes they suffocate because of lack of oxygen in the longer tunnels. Sometimes they die in cave-ins.” He glanced at her, seeing the anguish register on her features. That was one more thing he liked about Cat: she was incapable of hiding her reactions. He gripped her hand momentarily, giving it a squeeze. “It’s a perilous life at best, looking for green fire,” he said.
The jungle closed around them once again and the frequent foot traffic of guaqueros in the Rio Itoco area shrank as the miles fell away. Humic acids of decayed vegetation surrounded them and Cat spotted a white monkey above them on one of the cable-strong vines before he went into hiding. The macaws’ brilliant reds, blues and
yellows made the dark, almost forbidding jungle come alive. Ferns, some as high as a man, cluttered the jungle floor, as did ringworm cassia and angel’s trumpet shrubs. Perhaps most beautiful of all were the multicolored orchids, peeking out in breathtaking splendor to relieve the green walls on either side of the thin ribbon of a dirt road.
The odors of life and death clung to Cat’s nostrils as Slade swung the Jeep up and out of the Muzo valley. The air was fresher and less humid as they traversed a shrinking road across the ridge, heading for Gato Valley. Compared to Muzo, Gato was spared man’s plundering. No human beings were in sight. Gato, named after the jaguars that ruled the valley, seethed with wildlife and birds. Cat began to relax and let go of her pistol. Slade had given her stern warning that if a guaquero made any kind of move toward them, she was to draw the gun and ask questions later.
By the time they reached the third and final valley, Silla de Montar, the sun was a red orb hanging low on the horizon. Cat was bruised and banged from the tortuous ride. From the rim of the valley, she saw the two peaks that created the saddle for which the valley had been named. On the left was Caballo Mountain, where Slade and Alvin owned the Verde mine land. Clothed in the green raiment of jungle, Caballo gave no hint of what lay beneath its verdant mantle. Cat smiled, thinking how skillfully the earth hid her treasure from passersby. Only Slade’s patient, methodical channel samplings had hinted of the wealth that lay on Caballo and down into the mountain’s heart of limestone and shale.
“It’s beautiful here,” she told him, meaning it.
“The air’s a little less humid over here than at Muzo,” Slade commented, aiming the nose of the sturdy Jeep down a steep incline toward the valley floor. “I think it’s because of the higher elevation.” He flashed her a tired smile. “We’ll be working up on Caballo and not down in the valley. That’s a plus, believe me.”
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