by Cassie Miles
She rode up beside Jake and asked, “What did Maggie say as we were leaving?”
“An Arapaho blessing. She was wishing me good fortune.”
“To do what? Where are we going?”
“Be patient.”
In Wind River County, life moved at a different pace than she was accustomed to. Though she was all in favor of experiencing peace and nature and regularly attended yoga classes, she was itching for action.
Jake seemed to be leading her toward a forested area where she assumed they’d be going single file again. If she wanted to talk to him, she ought to do it now.
“I’m looking at the big picture in the investigation,” she said. “And I’m trying to make sense of it. First, somebody tries to kidnap me. Now, I’m being framed for murder. Why?”
“I’d guess that whoever is behind these threats—the money man who paid off Granger—is motivated by something that’s happening in your little country on the other side of the world.”
“I’ve told you before. I have no power in Jamala.”
“Maybe you can’t make laws or start wars or dictate policy, but don’t underestimate yourself, Saida. I’ve seen you in action. You have influence.”
“Amir listens to me,” she admitted.
“And Amir is the key,” he said. “The threat to you is actually directed at him. When you showed up, Granger and Dormund tried to grab you. Why? Because you had something they wanted. I’m guessing they thought you knew how to contact your brother.”
She nodded. “Which is good news because it means Amir isn’t in the clutches of the bad guys.”
“We’ll assume he’s in hiding. What would it take to draw him into the open?”
“If I was kidnapped.”
“That was likely their first plan, but you were too fast for them.”
And Jake had appeared to rescue her. She glanced over at the man in the saddle. A reluctant hero, he wasn’t the kind of man who needed medals or recognition. She doubted that he even realized how incredible he was.
“What else?” he asked. “What else would make your brother respond?”
She thought for a moment. “If I was suspected of murder and thrown in jail, Amir would come forth to protect me.”
“When Granger went digging through your luggage and lucked out by finding a gun, he grabbed it. And your jewelry.” He paused, frowned. “I don’t think Granger is smart enough to figure out that he could frame you. Somebody else came up with that plan.”
“Lucky for me, I have an airtight alibi.”
“Being implicated in murder is still bad news,” he said. “It discredits you. Makes you a suspect instead of a victim.”
“Why should I care what people think of me?”
“You’re not naive,” he said. “When it comes to ruling a country, politics are always involved.”
She knew he was right. Public opinion was important, even in a sheikdom. “Your problems with Maddox are a mirror image of mine. He’s out to destroy you.”
He turned toward her. “Are you ready to give these ponies some real exercise?”
“Right behind you.”
He flicked his reins and tapped the flanks of his horse with his heels. The big roan took off, galloping across the field. The sheer beauty of man and horse stunned her. She was tempted to whip out her cell phone camera again, but there was no way she could capture the power of the moment in a single shot. This would have to be a memory, something she knew she’d never forget.
She gave her horse the cue to run. With a toss of her head, Rainy charged forward.
Saida’s riding lessons had been geared toward formal dressage maneuvers, but she loved to race. Her thighs tensed, holding on tightly. She adjusted her balance to Rainy’s gait as they rushed forward, running parallel to the line of the trees. Wind whipped through her hair and grazed her cheeks. Her pulse accelerated. Her blood was pumping. She felt alive, exhilarated.
Riding fast jostled the dark thoughts from her mind. She forgot to be confused and disturbed. The sheer physical excitement of the moment overwhelmed everything else.
At the edge of the forest, she reined her horse. She could feel the smile stretching her lips, and Jake’s grin matched hers. His white teeth made a brilliant contrast against his dark skin.
“I get it,” she said. “This is how you deal with stress.”
“It’s momentary relief.” His horse pawed the ground, ready for more action. “Physical activity is a quick fix.”
“Like sex. I always feel better after…” She pinched her lips together. She hadn’t meant to be so personal. “That wasn’t appropriate.”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t think you were a virgin princess.”
“A word of advice. Never say that to Nasim.”
He wheeled around and directed Jimmy along a path that led into the thick pine forest. As Rainy followed, Saida’s spirits were still high. The Wyoming experience was unlike anything she’d ever done. She’d sailed on hundred-foot yachts, gone diving at the Great Barrier reef, bungee jumped and skied on a glacier. She’d seen the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower, visited the secret catacombs in Egypt and watched her brother run with the bulls in Pamplona.
Riding with Jake was different. It was better, definitely better. When she was with him, there was an excitement that touched her more deeply than an exotic trek.
For a while, they followed a narrow creek with water as shimmering as diamonds. Tall thickets of berries and lilac branches brushed against her legs as Rainy picked her way along the path. The air was scented with pine. After a bit of an uphill ride, they emerged from the forest onto a rocky ledge overlooking a wide canyon.
The vista was enormous and spectacular. Sunset colored the skies with a rosy glow and reflected rich golden hues on the wispy clouds.
“We’re here,” Jake said as he dismounted.
She climbed down from her horse and stood beside him, staring at that awesome sky. Their hands were almost touching.
She whispered, “Is this where you come to find relief?”
“Being outside in nature has a way of healing any wounds,” he said. “But this isn’t what I wanted to show you.”
“I’m glad you brought me here.”
“You were troubled. The murder got to you.”
“I could have handled it,” she said quickly. “I’m not the kind of person who falls apart.”
“It got to me, too.” His voice was as low as the rustle of wind through the pine boughs. “The rage and hatred that drives a man to murder is a poison, and nobody is immune. Today, I stood over the body of a dead man. I have to deal with that.”
As he walked toward the rocks at the edge of the trees, he continued, “I don’t consider myself a religious man, and I don’t follow the ways of my tribe. But I believe we are all part of creation. Everything that lives is sacred.”
A huge slab of rounded granite formed an overhang that protected a fire ring with charred branches and ashes in the middle. He asked, “Have you ever heard of a sweat lodge?”
“Sure. I’ve lived in Southern California for a long time.”
“What does that mean?”
“There’s a guru or medium or a shaman on every street corner. Some of them actually make sense and help people. Most are loons.” She knew a lot of people who had spiritual advisors. “Anyway, I’ve heard that sweat lodges are like a sauna where everybody gets naked and has visions.”
“That sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than my version.” He grinned. “Especially the naked part.”
She liked that idea, too. Getting naked with him and working up a sweat would be perfect. With a wicked smile, she asked, “Is that what you wanted me to see?”
Ignoring her double entendre, he went behind the fire circle and hunkered down. With a burnt stick, he poked at the ashes. “Most tribes have their own version of a sweat lodge. Typically, it’s a tentlike structure, a wickiup, with a low-burning fire in the middle. You sit there and sweat.”
“Like a sauna,” she said.
“Not naked, though.”
“Too bad.”
“You open your mind and your heart, sending your spirit on a vision quest that teaches you important lessons about yourself and your place in the world.”
Standing on the opposite side of the fire circle, she pointed out the obvious. “There’s no wickiup here.”
“And this isn’t really a sweat lodge,” he said. “I don’t have time to meditate for hours, but this works for me.”
She was ready to try anything. At the moment, she wasn’t feeling too bummed, but her dark thoughts hadn’t disappeared. They lurked in the back of her mind. “How do we do it? Are we supposed to chant?”
“I usually take off the things that keep me tied to my every day life. And I usually build a small fire. But not today.” He left the fire circle and came toward her. “There isn’t time to make sure a fire is completely out. And I’m not taking off my gun.”
“Separating from everyday life. Got it.”
Standing beside her in an open space between the trees and the edge of the rocks, he took off his hat and dropped it onto the ground. Then he removed his wristwatch.
She followed his example by peeling off her jacket. Her scarf, her rings and her bracelets were added to the pile. She unfastened her necklace and her earrings. These were simple actions but somehow symbolic. She was shedding possessions, distancing herself from her very complicated life.
“Do you ever meditate?” he asked.
“I’ve tried.” But there was usually too much going on inside her head to reach a state of complete openness.
“Close your eyes.” He took her shoulders and turned her. “You’re facing north. A direction of strength and power. Breathe slowly. Feel a white light pouring through you.”
Standing with her eyes closed made her a bit disoriented, so she sat on the rock. Her pulse calmed. The clean air soothed her. The setting sun warmed her shoulders.
The duties and privileges of being a princess were gone. In this moment, she was only a woman.
Chapter Fourteen
Jake had walked this path many times before, but he had always been alone. Having Saida with him in his meditation felt different but right. He knew she’d been troubled when she thought her gun might have ended a man’s life, and her concern for a life—any life—was similar to his own understanding.
They had much in common. Though born a world apart and raised in completely different circumstances, they shared a deep understanding. Jake wished that he’d had a guide when he first confronted violence. He might be able to help her find peace.
He unbuttoned his shirt and cast it onto the pile of their earthly belongings. His holster weighed heavy on his hip, but he needed to be armed, even though he didn’t expect for anyone to find them.
This particular spot was special to him. Even before he bought his house, he’d come to this ledge overlooking the canyon. Though he didn’t really believe in a sacred space, this came close.
Facing north, he stood behind her seated form and raised his arms to welcome the strength he needed. His spirit opened. His feet sent down roots deep into the earth where he drew nourishment.
After a moment, he leaned down and gently rested his hands on her shoulders. The connection between them was palpable. “Do you feel it?”
“Yes.” Her voice was as sweet as a wood flute. “Warm.”
“Keep your eyes closed and turn in a half circle.”
Instead of standing, she scooted around to switch positions. “Is this right?”
“There isn’t right or wrong. It’s whatever feels good.” But he made sure that she was facing south. “This is the direction of growth.”
Though he was looking toward trees and rocks, the sunset spilled yellow across the land. Their horses were tethered in the trees, and he imagined the healthy glow of their life force. He loved the south—the sense of unbounded creation wherein all things were possible.
“I hear something,” she said. “The echo of my heartbeat.”
Her blood was pumping, healing her, helping her to grow.
He directed her toward the east, the direction of red sunrise that brought enlightenment. He peered through the trunks of pine trees and looked up to the sky. “This way is wisdom. Here is where I remember, and I think.”
In his mind’s eye, he replayed the moment when he had looked down on the murdered man. Jake imagined the course of the bullet, heard the last breath, felt the loss and the darkness that accompanied sudden death.
Could he have prevented the murder? As sheriff of Wind River County, it was his duty to keep the peace. Had he done as much as he could? There was always more; no one was perfect. He would continue to try, to seek the truth. He needed to be smart and to bring an end to the violence that had started when Amir disappeared.
He didn’t know what Saida was thinking. Her meditation would be particular to her. She exhaled a sigh, and her shoulders slumped.
Crouching beside her, he asked, “What is it?”
“I understand.” Another sigh. “I can’t make things different.”
He took her hand and helped her to stand. Turning her to the west where the sunset painted the sky, he stood behind her. “Open your eyes.”
She gasped. “So beautiful.”
“When the sun goes down, the west becomes dark. This is the way of the spirit. I’m thinking of the one who died.”
He grieved for the murdered man and hoped his essence would find peace. In his mind, Jake sent the spirit on its way. “Goodbye, William.”
Saida leaned her back against his chest. He encircled her with his arms and held her. They stood and watched as the sun dipped behind the peaks.
When she turned toward him, her eyes were bright. Her spirit was strong and wise. He lowered his head and kissed her soft, inviting lips. The inside of her mouth was hot.
Meditation had refreshed all his senses and given him clarity. He heard her breath and the surging of her heart. He smelled the scent of jasmine. The smooth skin of her arm glided across his bare back as she molded herself against him.
He wanted to touch every part of her. His fingers slipped through her silken hair. His hand slid down her back and explored her slender waist and the fullness of her hips. Though she had the slender body of a fashion model, her curves were womanly. He slid his hand under her shirt and found her breast. Her tight nipple poked against the lace of her bra, and she trembled when his fingers tweaked the delicate tip.
She leaned back in his arms and looked up at him. She was so lovely. Her hair, her skin, the arch of her neck, everything. This moment was as close to perfection as he’d ever been.
“I don’t want this to end,” she said.
“Neither do I.”
He wanted to carry her into the forest, spread his shirt on the ground and make love to her. He wanted to spend the whole night holding her in his arms and counting the stars as they appeared one by one in a velvet sky.
That wasn’t going to happen.
When they set out from his house, he hadn’t planned on making love to her. He hadn’t been prepared. No condom. No way was this ever going to happen to him again.
“We should head back,” he said.
“I’d rather not.”
She nestled her head against his chest. Her embrace tightened. Resisting her was killing him. From this day forward, he’d always carry one or two…or seven condoms.
He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the jasmine fragrance of her shampoo. “We have plenty of time.”
“That’s right, isn’t it?” Reluctantly, she separated from him. “Even after we find Amir, there’s no reason I can’t stay in Wyoming for the whole summer.”
“Sure,” he said. “Six suitcases. That’s enough clothes to last for months.”
“Speaking of which…” She crossed the rocks to the place where they’d piled their belongings and pivoted to face him. “Much as I hate to go back, we should
get dressed. Even though I much prefer you shirtless.”
“Given an opportunity to judge,” he said, “I’m pretty sure I’d say the same.”
She knelt to pick through the tiny bits of gold and silver she’d discarded. “I kind of hate to put on all my jewelry. Getting rid of this stuff made me feel free.”
“And how do you feel now?”
Her lips pursed as she paused to think.
He really liked the way she considered before speaking. Sometimes she rebounded in an instant. But she often resisted the urge to blurt out the first words that came to mind.
“Strong,” she said. “And calm.”
He would add one more word: loving.
AS DUSK SETTLED, JAKE rode slowly back to his house, side by side with the princess. Their horses ambled in a comfortable gait, not in a rush. And their conversation was equally easygoing. By unspoken agreement, they didn’t discuss the investigation.
“This might be my favorite time of day,” he said. “When all the chores are done, and you can settle back and reflect.”
“That’s not my experience,” she said. “Early evening is when my day starts. I usually have to be somewhere. Some kind of event or appearance.”
“You’re a night owl.”
“Mostly. I love sleeping late in the morning. Waking up slowly, stretching and yawning like a lazy cat. Then I have my espresso. Do you like your coffee strong?”
“Strong and black,” he said. “None of that whipped cream and sprinkle stuff.”
“What about Vietnamese coffee?”
“Never tried it.”
“It’s an absolute treat. Made with sweetened condensed milk. I could make it for you. The best breakfast in the world with a croissant and butter.”
Discussing breakfast probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Though he wanted to make love to her, he knew it wasn’t appropriate.
As they approached his house, he spotted Nasim and Maggie in the driveway shooting hoops. Saida’s tall, formal bodyguard had removed his jacket and necktie but still wore his shoulder holster.