Desert Rogues Part 2

by Susan Mallery

  She turned in a slow circle and saw nothing. Not a road, not a building, not a hint of life. They were truly alone.

  The fear returned and with it a conviction that she wouldn’t let Reyhan die. She couldn’t. He might not care about her, but she loved him.

  She crossed into the mouth of the cave. The opening was huge with the ceiling soaring up what looked like two stories. There was a small chest to the right of the opening and she crossed to it.

  She opened it and inside she found flashlights, batteries, water, food and a first-aid kit. When she turned back to the truck, she screamed. Reyhan leaned against the entrance. He was pale, shaking and bleeding.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded as she raced back to him. “Stay still. You can’t lose any more blood.”

  “It’s about two miles that way,” he said, pointing into the cave. “You’ll have to pull the truck into the cave, then help me walk the rest of the way.”

  “You’re not walking two miles anytime soon,” she told him. “We’ll camp right here until help arrives.”

  “Not likely soon, and there aren’t enough supplies,” he said, and winced.

  She glanced at the food and water provided and knew he was right. The trunk provided emergency rations, not enough to live on.

  “One thing at a time,” she told him. “I have to get you bandaged up. Then we’ll talk about moving you.”

  “We have to make the trip before dark,” he said. “There’s not much time.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aware of the passage of time, Emma worked quickly. She pulled all the supplies out of the trunk and was relieved to find a blanket folded in the bottom. Once she had everything gathered, she helped Reyhan into a seated position.

  His robes came off easily. Once she’d tossed them aside she could see the bloodstained shirt clinging to his torso. He barely hissed as she took off the drenched cotton, even when it pulled in places. When she was done, she examined the wound.

  The bullet had gone through him. She had no way of knowing if anything vital had been damaged nor could she have fixed anything if it had.

  Her emergency training came back to her and she worked quickly, grateful for her stint in the emergency room back home. Less than twenty minutes later she’d nearly stopped the bleeding, which meant she could finish bandaging the wound.

  She was shaken, scared and ready for someone to rescue them, but she had a feeling they were on their own until she could figure out a way to call for help.

  She crouched in front of Reyhan and smooth back his sweat-soaked hair. “I’m done,” she whispered. “It shouldn’t hurt so badly now.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She doubted that, but while the first-aid kit had plenty of bandages and antiseptic, there hadn’t been any painkillers.

  “Is there a cell phone I can use?” she asked. “Can I call for help?”

  “In the Desert Palace,” he said between clenched teeth. He sucked in a breath and rolled to his knees, then started to stand.

  She clutched his arm. “You can’t. We’ll stay here.”

  “No. We go now. There’s little time.”

  She glanced outside and figured they had about two hours left of daylight. Depending on how fast they could move, they had a chance of getting to the palace by dark. But it wasn’t a sure thing.

  “We should wait and go in the morning.”

  He looked at her. “You don’t want to face what roams the desert at night.”

  Good point.

  She collected their supplies and put them in the blanket, then knotted the ends together so she could wear it like a sling. She had them each drink some water, then she got Reyhan to his feet and leaned him against the wall. Finally she went out to the truck.

  Surprisingly it started. She maneuvered it into the cave where it sputtered and died before she had a chance to turn off the ignition. So much for the backup plan of trying to find the camp via the truck.

  She took one of the flashlights and handed the other to Reyhan. Then standing on his injured side, she took as much of his weight as she could.

  It was slow going. She didn’t want to think how much his side must hurt him or how weak and out of it he must feel from the blood loss. But he didn’t complain, didn’t slow down. He moved steady, at a pace that stunned her, turning left, then right, going deeper and deeper into the mountain, following directions only he could recognize.

  There were hundreds of places to get lost, she thought nervously as they came to yet another fork in the path. Reyhan went to the left, passed three other trails, before picking the fourth.

  Despite the distance they’d traveled, Emma knew they weren’t going deeper underground because there were bits of light filtering through the rocks above. Although as time passed, the light seemed to get more and more dim.

  “We’re nearly there,” he said, his voice low and raspy.

  She stopped and urged him to lean against the wall. “Have some water,” she said. “You’re dehydrated.”

  He took the water and drank. His willingness to listen to her told her just how badly he’d been hurt.

  They started walking again.

  After about twenty minutes, Reyhan spoke. “There’s a satellite phone in the office,” he said. “Find it tonight and put it out in the courtyard tomorrow. There’s a solar cell. It will take twelve hours to charge.”

  Twelve hours? That meant they couldn’t call for help until tomorrow night. What if Reyhan was bleeding to death on the inside? What if the bullet had pierced his intestines or his spleen or…?

  The path blurred and she realized she was crying. Blinking away the tears, she did her best to ignore the panic filling her and think about what was important. They’d survived this long. She could manage emergency first aid. Any crisis could be dealt with at the time. They would survive—she would make sure of it. She hadn’t come this far and realized she loved him only to lose him now.

  Nearly a half hour later, she realized the sun was definitely setting. Soon it would be completely dark except for the light from their flashlights. Her body ached from Reyhan leaning on her. She was tired, hungry and thirsty. If she felt this bad, he must feel a hundred times worse.

  She was about to ask how much farther when he stopped and pointed. “There.”

  Emma peered into the murky darkness and saw what looked like a solid stone wall.

  “It’s a dead end,” she said, fighting both panic and resignation. They weren’t going to make it.

  He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows.

  “Do not believe everything you see. Go stand in front of the wall.”

  She made sure he was leaning against the rocks before shrugging off his arm and approaching the wall. She pressed her hand against the stones.

  “Cold and solid.”

  “The bricks are a grid,” he said. “Count across from left to right and down from top to bottom. Three over and five down. Push.”

  She blinked in the darkness, then did as he requested. The stone moved. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

  “It’s working.”

  “Of course it is,” he said, and gave her the next instruction.

  So they went for a total of eight stones. On the last one, there was an audible click, then the stone wall swung in like a well-oiled door. The ground changed from uneven rock to polished stone and slowly sloped up.

  “We are here,” he said, and walked into the palace.

  Emma followed him. Reyhan kept his balance by pressing one hand against the wall and holding his flashlight with the other. At the top of the ramp, they entered what appeared to be a basement or cellar. He turned a lever and the stone door swung shut.

  “There is a short flight of stairs,” he said. “On the main floor are several bedrooms, the kitchen and the office. You’ll find the satellite phone in there.”

  He crossed the open area and headed for a flight of stairs at the far end. Emma was surprised that he barely limped. It was a
s if being in the Desert Palace gave him strength.

  “Is there food and water?” she asked.

  “Yes. No fresh food, but staples. And fresh water is always available. There’s an underground spring.”

  He climbed the stairs, slowly only slightly toward the top. She saw blood seeping through his bandage and winced. “You need to lie down,” she told him.

  “Soon.”

  At the top of the stairs was another door. This one had a knob. He turned it and they stepped into a beautifully tiled hallway. The air was cool but fresh and there were still hints of sunlight coming in through large windows.

  “There are battery-operated lanterns,” he said. “Several in each room.”

  He moved down the hallway, pausing only to point out the direction to the kitchen, the placement of the office and where the wing of bedrooms began.

  He entered the first one, made his way to the bed, sat down and passed out before he could put his head on the pillow.

  Fear returned but by now Emma was familiar with the knot in her stomach and the tightness in her chest. She ignored it and went to work.

  After setting down the supplies she carried, she found the battery-powered lantern in the room and clicked it on. Then she made sure Reyhan was comfortable on the bed and checked his wound.

  The seepage from before had stopped, which was a relief. So far there was no red, swollen flesh to indicate infection. Was it possible they’d gotten off relatively easily?

  Confident he was all right for the moment, she took one of the flashlights and did a quick search of the main floor of the large house.

  There were over a dozen rooms on this level and at least three staircases. The kitchen was huge and well stocked. Cold water gushed from the faucet. She found a propane-heated stove and oven, along with an empty refrigerator that probably needed a generator in order to run.

  In the book-lined office, she found a case on the big desk that looked somewhat like a phone. She made a mental note to stick that outside sometime tonight so that it could start charging in the morning.

  None of the four downstairs bathrooms offered a first-aid kit, so she returned to the kitchen and went into the pantry. Sure enough, on the bottom shelf was an assortment of medical supplies to supplement what had been in the first-aid kit in the case.

  She collected what she needed and returned to Reyhan’s room.

  He hadn’t moved. She checked his temperature, which was normal, then changed the bandage and decided to wait on everything else. If he regained consciousness, she would see if he could drink water and eat. If he didn’t…she would face that problem later.

  She returned to the kitchen where she dumped the old bandages and opened a can of soup. She ate it cold, too tired to bother with trying to heat it. After swallowing the contents and three full glasses of water, she made use of one of the luxury bathrooms, then returned to Reyhan’s room.

  He was still cool to the touch and there wasn’t any more bleeding. She had no way to tell about internal injuries, but she was hopeful that he’d been very lucky and that the bullet had missed everything.

  Weary behind words, she curled up next to him on the bed and closed her eyes. Just for a few minutes, she told herself. She still had to get the phone outside and figure out what she was going to feed him when he woke….

  Someone stroked her hair. Emma felt the light touch even in her sleep and smiled. She was warm all over and rested and in just a second she would open her eyes and see—

  Consciousness returned and with it the memories of what had happened the previous day. She sat up and realized it was morning and Reyhan was awake.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  She stared at him, at his bare chest and the clarity in his eyes. His color was good. Except for the white bandage at his waist, she wouldn’t have known he’d ever been injured.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Good. A little sore, but otherwise fine. I am hungry and thirsty.”

  “Positive signs.” She touched his forehead. “No fever?”

  “Not that I can feel.”

  Suddenly aware that she was pressed against him and that they were on a bed, she shifted toward the edge then stood.

  “Let me check your bandage. If there’s no sign of infection, we can all breathe a little easier.”

  She removed the dressing. The wound was clean, the surrounding skin pale.

  “It’s already healing,” she told him.

  “Good. Then we can eat.”

  He swung his legs to the floor and stood. She hovered by his side, but he seemed fine. Strong and capable. Once again the prince and no longer the man who needed her.

  “I would like a shower,” he said.

  “Me, too, but there’s no hot water. At least there wasn’t last night.”

  “The water heater needs to be turned on. I’ll take care of that if you want to start on breakfast.”

  She nodded and followed him out of the room. He didn’t even sway as he walked, she thought, amazed by his powers of recovery. As they passed the office, she remembered the telephone and collected it. Reyhan disappeared into a small room behind the pantry while she took the phone out into the courtyard and opened the case so the rising sun would charge the solar cell. Then she took a moment and looked around at the lush, nondesertlike garden in the middle of a three-story sand-and-stone house.

  Plants bloomed and trailed everywhere. She couldn’t name the various pink, red and white flowers, but she could inhale their sweet fragrance. Water trickled through several fountains and circled the garden before flowing into a stone-lined pond.

  No doubt the underground spring was responsible for the flow of water. Emma sighed as she caught sight of a bench in the corner and a small grassy patch. This was a dream house—somewhere she could happily stay forever.

  She left the courtyard garden and returned to the kitchen. By the time she’d put together a meal, Reyhan had returned with word that there would soon be hot water. He’d also started the generator.

  “We’ll have immediate electricity,” he said. “We have to use it sparingly until the solar panels start working. Hot water will take an hour or so.”

  “There’s nothing like a day in the desert to make one grateful for the little things,” she said, smiling as if being alone with him was no big deal. As if she didn’t remember how scared she’d been when she’d found out he’d been shot, and how much he’d hurt her, before they’d left, with his agreement that it was time for her to go home.

  As she sat across from him, she tried not to stare at his features. There was no need to memorize his face. Their time together had changed her forever and she would never forget what he looked like. Even now, without a shirt, in need of a shave and less than twenty-four hours after being shot, he still looked masculine, powerful and very princelike.

  Silence descended. She searched for a topic to keep the moment from being too awkward.

  “Whose house is this?” she asked as she sipped the coffee she’d prepared.

  “Mine. It belonged to my aunt. She left it to me when she died.”

  “This is where you came to after we got married,” she said as the pieces of the past clicked into place.

  He nodded. “I needed to be here for her funeral service and then I had to settle her affairs.” He stared past her, as if seeing into that long-ago time. “She and I were very close. My parents loved each other more than they loved their children. My brother Jefri didn’t seem to mind, but I noticed.” He shrugged. “When things were difficult, Sheza was there for me.”

  Simple words, she thought, reading the pain behind them. She could imagine a young, lonely prince, growing up in privilege, but without affection. The woman who took his parents’ place would always hold a special place in his heart. No wonder he’d been devastated by her loss.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I wish I’d known what you were going through.”

  He sipped his coffee. “It wou
ldn’t have made a difference. I would never have let you comfort me.”

  “Why not?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “I am Prince Reyhan of Bahania. I am not in need of comforting.”

  She leaned toward him. “I see. And who exactly buys into that line?”

  “You would have.”

  “You’re right. It’s something a child would have believed. But I’m not that little girl anymore. Now I know better.”

  His dark gaze settled on her face. “You were very brave yesterday.”

  “Not really. At first I was furious at being taken hostage. I knew they’d try to get money from you. They didn’t, did they?”

  “No. We were able to cancel the transfer. My security chief had a plan to get the money back even if the transfer had gone through. But if necessary, I would have paid.”

  “Nice to know,” she said, not surprised, but still pleased.

  “You are my wife, Emma. I could not let you be harmed.”

  She didn’t feel like his wife. She didn’t feel like anything except excess baggage.

  “Thank you for saving my life,” he said.

  “Thank you for saving mine.”

  “So we are even, which is better than one of us being in debt to another.” He smiled. “You did not expect danger to be a part of your visit to Bahania. This experience must make you eager to be back in Dallas.”

  So much less than he thought. “There are things I’ll miss about being here,” she told him. Mostly him.

  His smile faded. “I’m sorry I hurt you when we were at the palace.”

  When he’d rejected her, she thought. When he’d turned his back on her offer to make love.

  “Yes, well, it’s not a big deal.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he said. “It was a big deal to both of us. There are things you don’t understand.”

  “Then explain them to me.”

  He glanced out the window. “There is a legend that the spring that runs under this house is the result of heartache. That a young man got lost in the desert and wandered for days. He was nearly out of water when he found a single blooming plant. So impressed by the beauty of the flower, he poured his last drops of water onto the parched leaves to give it longer life. Grateful, the flower became a beautiful woman. They made love but in the morning, the young man died from dehydration. The woman wept and her tears became a river.”