He held up his hand. “Let’s stop here for a bite to eat.” He twisted around in the saddle, resting his hand on the rump of his gelding. Rachel was beautiful in her dark brown Stetson. She had a red wool muffler wrapped around her neck, and she wore a sheepskin jacket, Levi’s, boots and thick, protective gloves. He was glad she’d dressed warmly, even though the temperature was rising and he was sure it would get over thirty-two degrees in the bright sunshine. Dismounting, he dropped the reins on the gelding, knowing that a ground-tied horse, once the reins were dropped, would not move.
Coming around, he held out his hands to Rachel, placing them around her waist and lifting her off the little gray Arabian mare she rode. He saw surprise and then pleasure in her eyes as she settled her own hands trustingly on his upper arms while he gently placed her feet on the ground. It would have been so easy to lean down and take her ripe, parted lips, so easy … Tearing himself out of that mode, Jim released her.
“What have you brought for us to eat?” He took the horses and tied them to a nearby tree. The trail had led them into a huge, jagged canyon of red-and-white rock. Noticing a limestone cave halfway up on one wall, he realized it was a perfect place for a cat to have a lair.
Rachel felt giddy. Jim’s unexpected touch was exhilarating to her. Taking off her gloves, she opened up one of the bulging saddlebags. “I know this isn’t going to be a surprise to you. Turkey sandwiches?”
Chuckling, Jim grinned and came and stood next to her. “We’ll sit over there,” he said. There were some black lava rocks free of snow that had dried in the sunlight. “I like turkey.”
“I hope so.” Rachel laughed softly. She purposely kept her voice low. When tracking, making noise wasn’t a good idea.
“Come on,” he urged, taking the sandwich wrapped in tinfoil. “Let’s rest a bit. Your legs have to be killing you.”
Rachel was happy to sit with her back against his on the smooth, rounded surface of the lava boulder. It was a perfect spot, the sunlight lancing down through the fir, spotlighting them with warmth. She removed her hat and muffler and opened up her coat because it was getting warmer. Picking up her sandwich, she found herself starved. Between bites, she said, “My legs feel pretty good. I’m surprised.”
“By tonight,” he warned wryly, “your legs will be seriously bowed.”
She chortled. “That’s when I take Arnica for sore muscles.”
He grinned and ate with a contentment he’d rarely felt. The turkey tasted good. Rachel had used a seven-grain, homemade brown bread. Slathered with a lot of mayonnaise and a little salt on the turkey, the sandwich tasted wonderful. Savoring the silence of the forest, the warmth of the sun, the feel of her resting against his back and left shoulder, he smiled.
“This is the good life.”
Rachel nodded. “I love the peace of the forest. As a kid, I loved coming up on the Rim with my horse and just hanging out. When I was in junior high and high school, I was in the photography club, so I used to shoot a lot of what I thought were ‘artistic’ shots up here.” She laughed and shook her head. “The club advisor, a teacher, was more than kind about my fledgling efforts.”
Smiling, Jim said, “I almost joined the photography club because you were in it.”
Her brows arched and she twisted around and caught his amused gaze. “You’re kidding me!”
“No,” he said, holding up his hand. “Honest, I had a crush on you for six years. Did you know that?”
Even though he’d already confessed his boyhood crush, his words still stunned her. Maneuvering around so that she sat next to him, their elbows touching, she finished off her sandwich and leaned down to wipe her fingers in the snow and pine needles to clean them off. “I still can’t believe you had a crush on me.”
“Why is that so hard to believe? I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.” And then his smile softened. “You still are, Rachel.”
Her heart thumped at the sincerity she heard in Jim’s voice, and the serious look she saw on his face. “Oh,” she said in a whisper, “I never knew back then, Jim …?.”
Chuckling, he took a second sandwich and unwrapped it. “Well, who was going to look at a pimply faced teenager? I wasn’t the star running back of the football team like Sam was. I was shy. Not exactly good-looking. More the nerd than the sports-hero type.” He chuckled again. “You always had suitors who wanted your attention.”
“Well,” she began helplessly, “I didn’t know …”
He caught and held her gaze. “Let’s face it,” he said heavily, “back then, as kids, we wouldn’t have stood a chance anyway. You were a hated Donovan. If my father had seen me get interested in you, all hell would’ve broken loose.”
Glumly, Rachel agreed. “He’d have probably beaten you within an inch of your life. Come to think of it, so would my dad.”
“Yeah, two rogue stallions against one scrawny teenage kid with acne isn’t exactly good odds, is it?”
Laughing a little, Rachel offered him some of the corn chips she’d bagged up for them. Munching on the salty treat, she murmured, “No, that’s not good odds. Maybe it’s just as well I didn’t know, then …?.”
The silence enveloped them for a full five minutes before either spoke again. Rachel wiped the last of the salt and grease from the chips off on her Levi’s. There was something lulling and healing about being in a forest. It made what she wanted to share with Jim a little easier to undertake. Folding her hands against her knees, she drew them up against her.
“When I moved to England, a long time ago, Jim, I went over there to get the very best training possible to become a homeopath. I had no desire to live at the ranch. I knew my mother wanted all of us girls to come home, but none of us could stomach Kelly’s drinking habits.” She shook her head and glanced at Jim. His eyes were dark and understanding. “I loved my mother so much, but I just couldn’t bring myself to come back home after I graduated from four years’ training at Sheffield College. I went on to become a member of the Royal Society of Homeopaths and worked with several M.D.s at a clinic in London. I really loved my work, and how homeopathy, which was a natural medicine, could cure terrible illnesses and chronic diseases.
“I was very good at what I did, and eventually, the administrator at Sheffield College asked me to come back and teach. They offered me not only a teaching position, but said I could write a book on the topic and keep practicing through clinic work at their facility.”
“It sounds like a dream come true for you,” Jim said.
“Well, it was even more than that,” she said ruefully, leaning down and picking up a damp, brown pine needle. Stroking it slowly with her fingertip, she continued, “I met Dr. Anthony Armstrong at the clinic. He was an M.D. Over time, we fell in love.” She frowned. “Because of my past, my father, I was really leery of marriage. I didn’t want to get trapped like my mother had been. Tony was a wonderful homeopath and healer. We had so much in common. But I kept balking at setting a wedding date. This went on for five years.” Rachel shook her head. “I guess you could say I was gun-shy.”
Jim’s heart sank. “You had good reason to be,” he answered honestly. “Living with Kelly was enough to make all three of you women gun-shy of marriage and of men in general.” And it was. Jim had feared Kelly himself. Nearly anyone with any sense had. The man had been unstable. He’d blow up and rage at the slightest indiscretion, over things that didn’t warrant such a violent reaction. As much as Jim tried to imagine what it had been like for Rachel and her sisters, he could not. What he did see, however, was the damage that it had done to each of them, and he realized for the first time how deeply wounded Rachel had been by it as well.
“I was scared, Jim,” she said finally, the words forced out from between her set lips. “Tony was a wonderful friend. We loved homeopathy. We loved helping people get well at the clinic. We had so much in common,” she said again.
“But did you love him?”
Rachel closed her eyes. Her lips compressed. “Do you al
ways ask the right question?” She opened her eyes and studied Jim’s grave face. His ability to see straight through her, to her core, was unsettling but wonderful. Rachel had never met a man who could see that deep inside her. And she knew her secret vulnerabilities were safe with Jim.
“Not always,” Jim murmured, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly, “but I try, and that’s what counts.” Seeing the fear and grief in Rachel’s eyes, he asked gently, “So what happened? Did you eventually marry him?”
Allowing the pine needle to drop, she whispered, “No … I was too scared, Jim. Tony and I—well, we were good friends. I gradually realized I really didn’t love him—not like he loved me. Maybe, in my late twenties, I was still gun-shy and wasn’t sure about love, or what it was really supposed to be. I had a lot of phone conversations with my mother about that. I just wasn’t sure what love was.”
Seeing the devastation on Rachel’s face, hearing the apology in her husky voice, he bit back the question that whirled in his head: And now? Do you know what love is? Do you know that what we have is love? “Time heals old wounds,” he soothed. “I’ve seen it for myself with my father. When I left at age eighteen, I hated him. It took me ten years to realize a lot of things, and growing up, maturing, really helped.”
“Doesn’t it?” Rachel laughed softly as she lifted her head and looked up at the bright blue sky. The sunlight filtered delicately down among the fir boughs, dancing over the snow patches and pine needles.
“That’s why I came home. Blood is thicker than water. I thought I could help, but I haven’t been able to do a damned thing.” Ruefully, he held her tender gaze. “The only good thing that’s happened out of it is meeting you again.”
Her throat tightened with sudden emotion and she felt tears sting the backs of her eyes. Her voice was off-key when she spoke. “When I became conscious in that wreck and saw you, your face, I knew I was going to be okay. I didn’t know how, but I knew that. You had such confidence and I could feel your care. You made me feel safe, Jim, in a way I’ve never felt safe in my life.” She tried to smile, but failed. Opening her hands, Rachel pushed on, because if she didn’t get the words out, the fear would stop her from ever trying again.
“I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel so good around you. I like your touch, your kindness, the way you treat others. There’s nothing not to like about you.” She laughed shyly. Unable to meet his gaze because she was afraid of what she might see, she went on. “I’m so afraid to reach out … to—to like you … because of my past. I hurt Tony terribly. I kept the poor guy hanging on for five years thinking that I could remake myself, or let go of my paranoia about marriage, my fear of being trapped by it. I thought it would go away with time, but that didn’t happen. I felt horrible about it. That poor man waited in hope for five years for me to get my act together—and I never did.” Sorrowfully, Rachel turned and met Jim’s gaze. It took the last of her courage to do that because he deserved no less than honesty from her.
“Now I’ve met you. And what I feel here—” she touched her heart with her hand “—is so strong and good and clean that I wake up every morning happy, so happy that I’m afraid it’s all a dream and will end. That’s stupid, I know. I know better than that. It’s not a dream …?.”
Gently, Jim turned and captured her hands in his. “Maybe it’s a dream that’s been there all along, but due to life and circumstances, you couldn’t dream it—until now?”
Just the tenderness of his low voice made her vision blur with tears. Rachel hung her head. She felt Jim’s hands tighten a little around hers. “I’m so scared, Jim … of myself, of how I feel about you … of the fact that your family would come unglued if—if I let myself go and allow the feelings I have for you to grow. I’m scared of myself. I wonder if I’ll freeze again like I did with Tony. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to make you suffer like I did him.”
“Listen to me,” Jim commanded gruffly as he placed his finger beneath Rachel’s chin, making her look up at him. Tears beaded her thick, dark lashes and there was such misery in her forest-green eyes. “Tony was a big boy. He knew the score. You weren’t teenagers. You were adults. And so are we, Rachel.” Jim slid his hand across the smooth slope of her cheek. “I know you’re scared. Now I know why. That’s information that can help us make decisions with each other.” He brushed several strands of dark hair away from her delicate ear. “I couldn’t give a damn that my last name is Cunningham and yours is Donovan. The feud our fathers and grandfathers waged with one another stops here, with us. We aren’t going to fight anymore. It’s this generation that has to begin the healing. I know you know that. So does Kate and Jessica. My family doesn’t—not yet. And maybe they never will. But I can’t live my life for them. I have to live my life the way I think it should go.”
Rachel closed her eyes as he stroked her cheek. His hand was roughened from hard work, from the outdoors, and she relished his closeness, his warmth.
“I guess,” Jim rasped in a low voice, “I never got over my crush on you, Rachel.” He saw her eyes open. “What I felt as an awkward, gawky teenager, I feel right now. When I saw it was you trapped in that car, I almost lost it. I almost panicked. I was so afraid that you were going to die. I didn’t want you to leave me.” He shook his head and placed his hand over hers again. “When you needed that rare blood type, and I had the same type, I knew something special was going down. I knew it here, in my heart. I was glad to give my blood to you. For me, with my Apache upbringing, I saw it symbolically, as if the blood from our two families was now one, in you.” He gazed into her green eyes and hoped she understood the depth of what he was trying to share with her.
“In a way, we’re already joined. And I want to pursue what we have, Rachel—if you want to. I’m not here to push you or shove you. You need to tell me if I have a chance with you.”
CHAPTER NINE
BEFORE Rachel could answer, both horses suddenly snorted and started violently. Jim and Rachel jumped to their feet and turned toward the fir tree, where the horses were firmly tied and standing frozen, their attention drawn deeper into the canyon.
Rachel’s eyes widened enormously and her heart thudded hard in her chest. There, no more than a hundred feet away on the wall of the canyon next to the cave, stood a huge, stocky jaguar. The cat switched its tail, watching them.
Jim moved in front of her, as if to protect her. She could feel the fine tension in his body, and she gasped. The jaguar was real! Though the cat was a hundred feet above them and unable to leap toward them, her emotions were screaming in fear.
“Don’t move,” Jim rasped. His eyes narrowed as he slowly turned and fully faced the jaguar. For some reason, he sensed it was a female, just as in Rachel’s dream. The cat was positively huge! He’d seen photos and films of jaguars, but never one in the wild. They were a lot stockier than the lithe cougar and weighed a helluva lot more. The cat’s gold-and-black fur looked magnificent against the white limestone cliff. Between her jaws was a limp jackrabbit she’d obviously brought back to her lair to enjoy.
The snort of the horses echoed warningly down the canyon walls and Jim automatically put his arm out, as if to stop Rachel from any forward movement. He felt her hand on the back of his shoulder.
Rachel was mesmerized by the stark beauty of the jaguar as the cat lowered her broad, massive head and gently placed the dead rabbit at her feet. Looking down at them as if she were queen of all she surveyed and they mere subjects within her domain.
“She’s beautiful!” Rachel whispered excitedly. “Look at her!”
Jim barely nodded. He was concerned she would attack. Fortunately, both horses were trained for hunting and were able to stand their ground rather than tear at their reins to get away—which any horse in its right mind would have done under the present circumstances. He estimated how long it would take to reach his gelding, unsnap the leather scabbard, pull out the rifle, load it and aim it. The odds weren’t in his favor.
> “She’s not going to harm us,” Rachel whispered. Moving closer to Jim, their bodies nearly touching as she dug her fingers into his broad shoulder. “This is so odd, Jim. I feel like she’s trying to communicate with us. Look at her!”
He couldn’t deny what Rachel had voiced. The cat lazily switched her tail, but showed no sign of alarm at being so near to them. Instead, she eased to the ground, the rabbit between her massive front paws. Sniffing the morsel, she raised her head and viewed them again.
“Listen to me, Rachel,” Jim said in a very low voice, keeping his eyes on the jaguar. “I want you to slowly back away from me. Mount your horse and, as quietly as you can, walk it out of the canyon. Once you get down the hill, take the walkie-talkie you have in the saddlebag and make a call to Bob. Tell him we’ve located the cat and it’s a jaguar. The walkie-talkie won’t work up here in the fir trees. You need an open area. It might take you fifteen minutes to ride down this slope to the meadow below. Call him and then wait for him down there. I know he’s on 89A waiting for us. He can drive through the Cunningham ranch. Tell him to go to the northernmost pasture. We’ll meet him there.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Stay here.”
Alarmed, Rachel asked, “Why? Why not come with me?”
“Because if she wants to charge someone, I’d rather it be me, not you.” He reached behind him and his hand found her jean-clad thigh. Patting her gently, he said, “Go on. I’ll come down the hill fifteen minutes from now. I just want to give you a head start. The cat isn’t going to follow you if she has me here. Besides, she’s eating her lunch right now. If she’s starving, that rabbit will put a dent in her appetite and she’ll be far less likely to think of us as a meal.”
Rachel understood his logic. “Okay, I’ll do it.” Her heart still pounded, but it wasn’t fear she felt in the jaguar’s presence, just a thrilling excitement.
He nodded slowly. “I’ll see you in about twenty minutes down below in that meadow?”
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