Dreaming of a Hero (Heroes Series Book 2)

by Lyssa Layne

  Instead of leaving with the others, she’d insisted that they needed to talk. In a moment of weakness he’d told her about seeing Mallory’s map and they had discussed the possibilities for an hour. If there were a buried treasure somewhere, it might be the key to saving the ranch.

  “We need to get rid of that woman,” Dianna hissed. “She’s going to bring nothing but trouble if she stays. We can beat those bastards, and she can ruin it all.”

  “Mallory doesn’t know anything. There’s no way she can do any damage.” Mike sighed. Dianna had always been a drama queen. She thrived on unrest. “As soon as the coroner releases her father’s body, she’ll go home. Who knows, the map is probably worthless anyway.”

  “If she pries, she might stir up things that are better left alone.” Dianna pulled her thick brows together in a frown. “We need to get a good look at her half of the map.”

  “She won’t dig. She doesn’t know I have half of it.” Mike swallowed his irritation. Although Dianna was right, Mallory might destroy everything he’d worked for without even meaning to. On the other hand, she held the key to saving the ranch. If he could only figure out how to get her part of the map...without her knowledge.

  “How are you so sure?” Dianna put her hands on her hips. “Oh, I get it. You’re going to turn on the old Malone charm and seduce her into cooperating? That’s going above and beyond, isn’t it, Mike? I suppose she’s attractive enough in a schoolmarm type way. Be careful, friend. You’re still not over Elisha. One thing could lead to another, you might lose control. Say more than you mean to during pillow talk.”

  “You’re going too far,” Mike warned. He knew Dianna wanted more from him than he could give her. She and Elisha had been best friends in college, and after Mike met Elisha, he became friends with Dianna, too. They were close, and it was comfortable between them, but he had never been attracted to her in a physical way.

  “Fine,” Dianna said, “but keep your head.”

  “I’m the one who always does.”

  She glared at him as she went to the door. “Make sure you keep it that way.”

  ~*~

  Sleep was the last thing on Mallory’s mind, but she stretched out across her bed and tried to relax. The tiny X on Skeeter’s map bugged her. Why was it there? What did it signify? For some reason, she felt certain the mark meant more than just The Cholla. Not only that mystery, but the conversation between Brent and Dianna kept circling around in her head. Scoffing at herself for being paranoid, Mallory tried to let it go. For all she knew, they could’ve been discussing something totally innocent.

  Maybe a glass of milk would help her relax. She got up and padded to the door with a glance at the clock on the wall. Almost midnight. Certain no one would still be up, she didn’t take time to grab a robe, although she didn’t really need one. She wore her usual nightwear–a plain tee and a pair of gray sweats. The hallway was dim, but lit enough from the light under the rec room door, she easily made her way to the kitchen.

  The kitchen door was closed, but unlocked, and she slipped inside.

  After pouring herself a tall glass of milk, she took it and headed back. Halfway there she froze as Mike’s door opened and Dianna came out. Spotting Mallory, Dianna looked her up and down. She smiled like a rattlesnake. “Well, look who’s lurking about in the middle of the night.”

  “I wasn’t spying,” Mallory denied hotly. She held up her drink. “I was thirsty.”

  Dianna shrugged. “No matter. It’s no secret that Mike and I are...close.”

  “Good for you.” Of course an attractive man like Mike would be seeing someone. “If you’ll excuse me—”

  “Sure,” Dianna promised without warmth.

  Mallory slipped by the other woman and entered her suite. More shaken than she realized, she paced, her mind spinning. If Mike was romantically involved with Dianna, she might be even more likely to pressure him to save all their jobs. But at what cost? Mike had invited Mallory to use his horses, although he had told her not to stir up the SRPL. If she could do it discreetly, she might ride out in the desert in the morning to see if she could locate any of the landmarks on Skeeter’s map. She must take care not to appear to be treasure hunting. Maybe the desert held some answers.

  Nothing on The Jumping Cholla ranch was as it appeared on the surface.

  ~*~

  After Dianna finally went home, Mike sat at his desk and studied his half of Skeeter’s map. He traced some of the landmarks with his thumb. He should’ve handed it over to Mallory immediately instead of keeping it from her. By rights, it belonged to her. No one had ever given Skeeter’s theories of a lost gold mine any credit, including Mike. But when he’d found the map in the old prospector’s things he’d had a moment’s doubt. Intrigued more than he wanted to admit, he just wanted to study it a little while. What if the lost mine was on his property? Then the profits would be his.

  His conscience told him to let it go even as he tried to remember what he’d seen on the other half. If he found the mine by memory, that wouldn’t be wrong, would it? But nothing in particular came to him. He had to see Mallory’s portion again. The right thing to do here was ask her if he could take a look. But then she’d know he’d withheld something that belonged to her. He’d already aroused her suspicions by his behavior in the library.

  He generally prided himself on being an upstanding kind of guy. He wasn’t the sort to use a woman for any reason. Only because she insisted, Elisha’s money had kept a bevy of high-powered attorneys on retainer to fight the SRPL. But Mike didn’t have that luxury any more. He had a short reprieve until the court date in June, but without smart, high-priced lawyers to fight the injunction he might as well call it quits now.

  Unless there was something to Skeeter’s map.

  Mike began to understand how desperation could make the most honest of men into something they ordinarily weren’t. And make them do things they normally wouldn’t. Like searching for a lost gold mine.

  Charging out into the desert in search of gold wasn’t as easy it sounded, though. What he’d told Mallory was true—if the SRPL got any indication that he had harmed the desert in any way, the radical environmentalists would be on him like a crow on a carcass. With about the same results.

  The Cholla meant everything to him.

  Was it worth the risks?

  Dropping the torn half of the map on his desk, he went to the sliding glass doors and opened them. He leaned against the doorframe, staring into the night sky, trying to come to the right decision. He’d already lost Elisha because of his obsession with the land. How much more was he willing to sacrifice?

  ~*~

  Mallory tossed and turned, unable to relax.

  The bright green numbers on the clock near her bed told her it was 1:15 a.m. Her eyes felt like they’d been through a sandstorm, but sleep wouldn’t come. She’d always believed when her father came to his senses, he’d come home with a plausible explanation for where he’d been for the last twenty-two years. She wasn’t a naive child any longer, when that hope had kept her going when nothing else could.

  Now she found out he’d simply dropped out. Become a bum with no more goals than a coyote looking for his next meal in the desert. She thought she’d quit crying over him a long time ago, but her cheeks were damp. Angry that she cared, she wiped them away. What had drawn her father here? Something compelling had to have kept him from his wife and child. She refused to accept anything less.

  For about the hundredth time she turned over and stared at the ceiling. The lights from the pool just outside played chase across the stucco. Although earlier she’d been chilly, she was now too hot.

  Someone, walking very quietly, approached her door and stopped.

  Mallory fumbled for her glasses and slipped them on.

  Someone turned the doorknob.

  Slowly, the knob spun back.

  Then the person on the other side moved away.

  Who had tried her door?

  Heart pou
nding, Mallory got up and slipped on her shoes and a jacket then slipped down the dark hall. Seeing no one, she tiptoed outside. Only a cricket chirped. Then, after her ears adjusted, she picked up the sound of a horse moving. For a minute she thought it was just one of the horses in the corral probably going for water or hay. But the longer she listened she realized the animal was walking briskly away from the barn. Who was riding at this time of night? Could one of those SRPL people be up to no good?

  Mike needed to know. She slipped inside, ran down the hall to Mike’s door and knocked. He didn’t answer. It was late, he was probably sound asleep. She pounded harder. No answer. Gosh, he slept like the dead. She debated for a moment. She didn’t really want to get into something dangerous. But, as his guest, she felt a certain responsibility to see if someone was doing something they shouldn’t.

  She grabbed her cell phone and stuffed it in the pocket of her sweater. Closing the front doors softly behind her, she moved out into the desert night. For a minute, she thought she’d waited too long to go after the rider, because she could no longer hear anything. After a few moments of concentration, she caught the faint sound of hooves still moving away. Flipping on the flashlight, and waiting until her eyes adjusted to the inky dark night, Mallory walked in the direction she thought he traveled although she couldn’t see any horse or rider.

  Not normally spooked by the night, her scalp felt too tight and goose bumps covered her skin. As she moved from the lights of the buildings the dim beam of her cell phone illuminated the desert and she saw towering saguaros, palo verde trees, and cholla but no rider. She scanned the desert but he seemed to have vanished into the night air. Something skittered and the hair on her arms rose. Too cold for rattlesnakes or lizards. Probably a rabbit. Or a javelina. She hoped not. The wild pigs could be dangerous if provoked. So could a criminal.

  She hurried her steps.

  Where had he gone?

  Although there were a lot of cacti out here, an animal as big as a horse shouldn’t be that hard to find. She paused for a moment, and looked over her shoulder. Surprise filled her at how far she’d come from the buildings. She should’ve tried harder to wake Mike.

  Straining to hear, all she picked up was the sound of her own quick breaths.

  No hoofbeats.

  No rustle of clothing.

  Nothing.

  Maybe she had imagined the whole thing.

  She hadn’t had a lot of sleep, after all.

  The best thing to do would be to go back to the ranch and get some rest. Wandering around in the desert in the middle of the night wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done. She turned back when she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mallory turned her head. Something that sounded like a fire-breathing dragon bore down on her as if to pick her up and carry her off. Even though logic told her it was the horse, she screamed and threw her hands up to ward him off. But the enormous beast hit her shoulder and knocked her spinning.

  She instinctively reached out to break her fall. Too late she realized her error. Her wide open palms landed in a pile of Cholla. Its sharp prongs penetrated her skin, sunk in, and spread its fishhook-like prongs, instantly causing shoots of agony to fill her hands and arms. The plant stuck worse than crazy glue. No amount of shaking could loosen it.

  Mallory held in another scream and moaned.

  Getting to her feet was next to impossible. She couldn’t push to her feet with her hands full of thorns and the more she struggled the more Cholla she drove deeper. Not only her palms were full of thorns, but her sleeves and the front of her sweater, too. It covered her from elbows to feet. No matter how much she wiggled, she couldn’t get up. She imagined she looked like an armadillo on her back. If she didn’t hurt so bad, she would’ve almost laughed.

  Her glasses lay a few feet from her and she had no way to pick them up.

  Seeing she had no choice, she opened her mouth and yelled like she’d never yelled in her life. She screamed again and again, as if she were being murdered. Someone had to hear her. Sound carried across the desert air as if sent by an amplifier.

  Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes when the resort stayed dark and silent. “Out here! Somebody, help me!”

  “Where are you?” She recognized Mike’s voice. Thank God.

  “Here. This way.” She lifted a hand to wave and pain shot up her arm. “Hurry.”

  He came toward her carrying a flashlight and she watched it like a lifeline. “Mallory? Where are you?”

  “Here,” she cried. “To your left. Just another dozen yards or so.”

  Like a hunting dog, he came straight at her. As he approached, relief filled her and she began to shake. She tried not to move, although she wanted to jump up and run into his arms.

  He reached her and knelt by her side. “Oh, man. What have you done?”

  “Fell,” she managed. “My glasses . . .”

  He retrieved them and put them in his pocket. She blinked back more tears. Without warning, he reached under her and picked her up.

  “I can walk,” she whispered.

  “No, you can’t. You’re covered in Cholla. If you walk, you’ll get it shoved into your feet.” He moved swiftly, and although he didn’t mean to hurt her, the uneven ground made the going rough and every bump pushed the prongs in a little further. She bit her lip and buried her head in his shoulder to keep from crying out.

  Reaching the front doors of the main building, he carried her to the rec room and placed her on the wide couch. He took her glasses out of his pocket and slid them on her nose. “Don’t move.”

  Sitting like a statue, she bit on her lip to keep from crying like a baby. Now that she could see, it was worse than she thought. Her palms were full with chunks of cactus. Her shirt, pants, and shoes had more than their share, too.

  Mike dashed out of the room, and came back in a minute carrying a first-aid kit. He knelt in front of her and pulled on a pair of leather gloves. “I’m going to take your shoes off first. I don’t think you have any in your feet. It hasn’t penetrated the soles.” He worked as he talked, untying her laces and slipping the tennies from her feet.

  “Now, your pants.” He talked in a soothing voice that somehow did calm her racing heart. He crouched and took hold of her hips. “That’s it. Stay still. We don’t want to get any in your legs. Got it.”

  With his support, Mallory stood on unsteady legs. She moaned a protest when he reached for the waistband of her gray sweats, but she knew he was right to get her pants off before the cactus prongs went through the thin material and poked her skin. His fingers skimmed her hips as he hooked his thumbs in her waistband and tugged. The soft cotton fell from her hips and landed on her feet. Mike bent and steadied her by one ankle as he lifted the other and took the clothing off. He repeated the action with the other foot.

  Mallory wanted to die of humiliation. She wasn’t in the habit of standing in front of strange men in her undies. Thank God she’d worn a nice pair of pink bikinis, and not something hideous. A hot blush covered her cheeks as he again steadied her by the hips and sat her back down. Mike, however, didn’t seem to notice her unease. He was focused on her hands. He took her left wrist and held it out for inspection. A soft whistle slid through his lips.

  “Oh, baby. That’s got to hurt like hell.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded toward a Navajo blanket on the back of the sofa. “Do you mind throwing that over me?

  “Sure.” He tucked it around her lap and reached for a pair of tweezers. Gently, he began to pull the spines from her palms and drop them in an empty bowl. Although she knew he was being as gentle as possible, it still burned like fire and she couldn’t keep the occasional whimper from escaping her lips.

  “I know,” he said. “It hurts.”

  “You said you helped my father do this?” She gasped as he pulled a deeply imbedded thorn out of her thumb.

  The tweezers stilled for a moment. “Skeeter? Naw. I
never helped him pull thorns. He took care of himself. I came up on him pulling some out of his pant leg one time, though. Come to think of it, he had some in his shoes when he came in this last time.”

  “Have you ever fallen in Cholla?” she asked to distract herself. Her heart hurt more than her hands. Her dad hadn’t needed anyone. Not even when he was hurt or ill. He’d rather face it alone than turn to her.

  He glanced up for a moment and his blue eyes held hers. “Got stuck by cholla? Sure. Most anyone who lives in Arizona has at one time or another. Being a desert native yourself, I’m surprised you went out at night in unfamiliar territory.”

  He left the question hanging, but Mallory answered it any way. She couldn’t believe how she had gone out alone. “I couldn’t sleep so I went out to the pool. I heard a horse and I went to investigate. It headed into the desert and I followed.”

  The look on his face turned from concern to disbelief. “You heard a horse clear around by the pool?”

  “Yes. I know what a horse sounds like.” To her own ears, Mallory knew she sounded defensive. “And it was definitely a four-legged animal.”

  “Did you see it?” He concentrated on her hand and didn’t look up.

  “No,” she had to admit. “Well, not until it knocked me down.”

  “What do you mean?” His hands stilled.

  She felt foolish now. What had possessed her to go out in the night like that? “I guess I got too close to whoever went for a midnight ride. They galloped right over the top of me. That’s how I ended up looking like a pincushion.”

  He looked up and the look in his eyes was unreadable. “You’re telling me you went in the desert at night after someone, and they saw you? And knocked you down?”

  “I tried to wake you,” Mallory said. “I thought somebody might be doing something rotten and I wanted to catch them at it.” Now that she said it out loud, she couldn’t believe she’d been willing to play Nancy Drew.

  “I don’t want to scare you,” he said, “but I have to ask you not to go out alone again. The SRPL has vandalized some of my neighbors. They haven’t physically injured anyone but they’re crazy enough to do something. The horse you heard was probably one of my employees keeping an eye out for one of the vandals.”