Dreaming of a Hero (Heroes Series Book 2)

by Lyssa Layne

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” The tone of his voice said he didn’t agree.

  Avoiding his puzzled gaze she knelt and straightened her sleeping bag, stuffing her purse inside. She wiggled in and covered her head, once again zipping it tight. Keeping her purse strap wrapped firmly around her wrist as a reminder that she really didn’t know Mike, she tried to ignore her swollen lips and jumping nerves.

  ~*~

  Mallory woke up feeling like one big aching bruise. Her whole body hurt. She liked the outdoors, and camping, but she could do without the sore body that came along with it.

  She peered over the edge of her cocoon and retrieved her glasses. Putting them on, she saw she was alone. Where was Mike? Probably answering the call of nature. She crawled out of the warm blankets and shivered when the cool air hit her. She tugged on her jacket and reached in her purse for a brush. A hot shower would make her feel like a new woman, but in the meantime untangling her hair would have to do.

  As she was tying her shoes, Mike lifted the hatch. “You’re up. Good.”

  A light stubble covered his chin and his blond hair hadn’t had the benefit of a comb. Very sexy. Like the rest of him. His lips, his muscled arms, big hands that made her tingle….

  “Yes.” She bent forward and concentrated on folding the blankets and sleeping bag and rolling it back into a tight roll. “Can we cross?”

  “Yes, the water went down during the night.” He took her hand and helped her step out. Brilliant sunlight blinded her for a moment and she blinked. The road looked normal again, with the exception of an empty SUV sitting on the side of it, lodged against a bent Palo Verde tree. The rain was long gone, the desert back to itself. A puddle on the pavement the only reminder of the storm. A clean, fresh scent hung in the air. The cactus-covered mountains, so spooky the day before, looked completely ordinary in the February morning.

  “I’m ready to go home,” she said. “And none too soon.”

  Something like disappointment crossed his face, just for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive this vehicle? I’ll drive the other one.”

  “Back to the ranch?” She stepped inside.

  He walked to the door and said through the window. “No, Goldfield. If Brent was out here, I want to make sure he’s not sitting there. He’s not...never mind. Follow me in.”

  Waiting until he got the other SUV started and turned around, Mallory wondered what he had started to say. Brent wasn’t what...mentally stable? Anxious to question the guy herself, she was dying to hear why he ducked around the corner when he saw her yesterday. Mike could try all day long to defend his friend’s strange actions, but Mallory knew what she’d seen.

  Mike drove across the now-empty wash and headed toward the tiny town. She stayed close enough to see him, but not so close to run into the back of his car if he had to suddenly brake. Goldfield rushed up out of nowhere. Why had it seemed so much further going away from it? Shrugging a little, Mallory parked beside the other Durango, angled in front of the same café as the day before and stepped out.

  Mike waited at the door for her and opened it. She stepped inside and waited a minute until her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. Faye stood in almost the identical spot as the day before, staring at the same TV. Bob Barker and his Beauties filled the screen. Faye turned around.

  “Mornin’, folks. So, I see you survived the flood.” She picked up the coffee pot. Bet you’re starvin’. There’s hotcakes and sausage. Or scrambled eggs, bacon, and Texas toast. That’s it.”

  “How did you know we were stuck behind the flood?” Mallory sat in the exact spot she had the day before, Mike across from her.

  Faye poured them each coffee. “Because that nice young man walked in and told me he got stuck in the middle of it. Figured you’d be coming back. I knew you wouldn’t be able to cross. Did you go back to Goldfield, then?”

  Mallory nudged him with her elbow in an “I told you so” way.

  “We couldn’t.” Mike lifted his cup and drank deeply. “Man, that tastes good. We got stranded in between two flash floods and we spent the night in the backseat of the Durango.”

  Faye grinned. “Not a wasted night, then.”

  Mallory felt a hot blush on her neck and cheeks. His words, completely innocent, insinuated they made love. Not the case, but too close for comfort. She shoved her glasses up her nose. “You saw Brent? When? Where did he go?”

  Faye looked at the door. “I don’t know, but you can ask him. He’s right there.”

  They spun around and watched Brent and Dianna enter.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay.” Dianna threw her arms around Mike’s neck and pressed her lips to his. When he didn’t respond, she drew back a fraction. “We were so worried.”

  Mallory watched the interchange, her stomach churning. Dianna had as much as said they were lovers. Last night, Mike had almost made love to her. Did he sleep with whoever was available?

  Brent stood beside her, his chin hanging toward his skinny chest.

  “We’re fine,” Mike assured her. “I got a little wet, but no damage done.”

  “Why did you get wet?” Dianna’s eyes were hard. “Did you get out in the rain?”

  “I waded across the creek to make sure no one was inside the stuck SUV. I fell mid-stream on the way back.” He said it quietly, without blame.

  “He nearly drowned.” Mallory wasn’t going to sit by and let him pretend it hadn’t been a near-disaster.

  “I’d say they had a wild time.” Faye poured more coffee. “Between taking a swim and spending the night in the car, it was a rough one.”

  Dianna’s lips tightened as she straightened and looked at Mallory. “You didn’t turn around and go back to Goldfield?”

  “Couldn’t,” Mike said. “We were stuck right between two floods. We hunkered down until we could cross. Besides, there’s nothing back there. You know that.”

  Mallory pasted on an innocent smile. “We had to share one sleeping bag.”

  Dianna glared at her, then turned her attention back to Mike. “As long as you’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

  “We’re fine. A little tired, but nothing a nap at home won’t cure.” He glanced at Brent. “I brought the other vehicle. Was it you who drove it out here?”

  Indecision flitted across his face. “Yeah. I’m sorry I got it stuck. I thought I could cross, but I got halfway and the current pushed me against the tree. I climbed out the passenger side and waded to the bank on the town side. I couldn’t do anything, so I hiked back here and called Di. She came and picked me up.”

  “Why didn’t you come look for us?” Mike’s voice held an edge.

  Brent looked shamefaced. “I couldn’t. I had to get back to the ranch.”

  “Why did you hide when I saw you yesterday?” Mallory pinned her best mean teacher look on him.

  His gaze skittered away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yesterday, when Mike and I came out of this establishment, you spotted me and dodged into the alley.” Her voice rose a bit. “Don’t deny it. I saw you.”

  Pale pink stained his gray skin. “I didn’t notice. I was trying to catch up with a buddy of mine. He was walking ahead of me. My mind was on him, and I didn’t pay attention to anything else.”

  Mallory held in a snort. In a town the size of this one, you could toss your dirty socks from one end of it to the other without even trying. The black Durango with The Jumping Cholla stenciled in big gold letters parked on the main drag had to be a little hard to miss. “I see.”

  “Who were you visiting?” Mike’s voice held a note of disbelief.

  “Does it matter?” Dianna took the seat next to Mike. “All that’s important is that everyone is safe. Does the SUV have any damage?”

  “A small dent where it rammed into the tree.” Mike answered her, then focused on Brent. “I’m just curious. Who did you come out here to see? Anyone I know?”

  “Yeah. Jimmy. You know, the guy who runs the Salt River Rafting
? The SRPL nuts have him shut down, too. He called and wanted me to go boating on Canyon Lake with him. I didn’t have a lot to do, so I agreed. I never got there because I got stuck in the ravine.”

  To hide her skepticism, Mallory looked around for sweetener. Seeing some on a nearby table, she rose to retrieve it. She didn’t believe one word. Who went boating in the rain? Nobody. Lightning could strike or the waves come up and capsize a boat. No one with any sense went out on a lake in a storm. And Brent was knowledgeable about boats. He was in charge of rafting at The Cholla.

  Faye said, “You folks gonna eat, or you going to stand around and gab?”

  Mallory grabbed her sweetener and took her seat. She ordered the hotcakes, hoping she could choke them down. Mike must not have been in a similar predicament because he put in a double order. Faye filled their cups and moved away. She perched on the edge of her stool and stared at her show.

  “So, did you find what you were looking for?” Dianna looked at her, but Mallory could’ve sworn the question was directed to Mike. Her mind was playing tricks on her again. What could Mike be looking for?

  “Yes. I wanted to understand my father a little better. I think I accomplished that.”

  “He loved it out here.” Brent’s sunken eyes looked a little damp. “The freedom, the way he lived.”

  “Like a bum? With nothing but the clothes on his back and a burro?” Mallory’s voice was a little harsher than she intended.

  “He didn’t have a lot of possessions, but he was happy.” Brent held his cup with both hands and stared into it. “If a man dies with that, then he’s had a full life.”

  “Even if he turns his back on everything that should matter to him?” Scorn filled her tone. “What if the price for your own happiness is someone else’s? Who’s more important?”

  No one met her eyes.

  Realizing she’d shared too much, she snapped her mouth shut.

  Faye set a steaming plate of buckwheat pancakes in front of her, but Mallory’s appetite had fled. She was twenty-seven years old. Much too mature to feel resentment over something that happened years ago.

  Her head knew it, why didn’t her heart agree?

  CHAPTER TEN

  The minute Mike parked, Mallory excused herself and headed inside for a shower. Her door was locked, just as she’d left it. Nerves humming, she opened the door and stepped inside. Everything looked okay. Just to be sure, she checked in the closet and the bathroom. Her clothes and toiletries were exactly as she’d left them.

  She closed the bathroom door and locked it. Dropping her dirty clothes on the floor, she turned on the shower and stepped in. The hot water poured over sore muscles and she leaned against the tile wall, letting the steam relax her. She shampooed and washed with her favorite mango-mandarin scented gel then stepped out and dried off. A sound in the bedroom alerted her she wasn’t alone.

  Someone was going through her room.

  She drew the towel tight about her and cracked the door. The hinges squeaked, tipping off whoever was there. Without her glasses, Mallory only caught a glimpse of a white shirt and jeans as the person bolted out of her room. The door slammed behind the culprit. Mallory leaped after him, grabbing her glasses off the night stand on the way by. By the time she got them on, opened the door, and into the hall, no one was around.

  Palms sweaty, she tucked in the top of her makeshift robe and rested against the wall. Maybe she ought to leave. Someone was snooping or at the very least, lurking. Of the people she knew on the ranch, Dianna seemed the most likely. She hadn’t been shy about marking Mike as her territory. Resorting to sneaking around didn’t seem in her nature. She’d been direct about her feelings. She seemed to be more likely to confront face-to-face than sneak around behind your back.

  Shelby and Alan seemed too wrapped up in each other to be any danger to anyone. As far as she could tell, they didn’t have any reason to want her gone. Shelby’s concern over Mallory’s injured hands had seemed genuine. Alan wasn’t overly friendly, but he didn’t seem to be the lurking type.

  Brent hadn’t made any bones about not liking the fact that she was concerned about the environment. But, Mallory couldn’t see any reason he’d want to follow her or sneak into her room. She still didn’t believe his story for being in Goldfield and stuck in the flash flood. Although she had trouble picturing him rifling her things, he stood out as the most likely to do so. The question was why? Had he taken the map, and not Mike?

  Mike.

  She didn’t want to believe he would search her room, not once, but twice. What could she have that he could possibly want? The half of the map sewn in Skeeter’s pant leg was gone. Did he think she had the other side? It made sense. He’d probably taken the half from her purse and come back for the missing part. Her chest felt too tight and she sat in the chair by the desk with a thud.

  She didn’t want to believe it. He’d been so kind. Was his generosity a mask for something sinister? There wasn’t any proof that he’d taken the map...but he had been in the desert when she fell down and got cholla stuck in her hands. When the horse mowed her down he was on the scene in seconds, when no one else heard her scream. He denied it, but she knew better.

  Her glasses has flown off and she hadn’t been able to see clearly, but she was reasonably sure he hadn’t been riding the horse. So who had? Brent? Or one of the others?

  Her head ached.

  She needed Tylenol.

  Standing, she walked across the room to where she’d dropped her purse. She dug inside for the travel-size bottle of medicine she’d placed there. Her fingertips brushed something—a crinkly piece of paper. It couldn’t be. She sat on the edge of the bed and dumped her bag on the bedspread. Among her possessions lay the map the coroner had given her.

  She reached for it with numb fingers. Unfolding it, she saw it was the same piece of paper she’d lost. Whoever had just snuck in her room had replaced it, apparently hoping she wouldn’t notice it had been removed. She trembled, but not with fear. Her teeth clenched and she doubled her hands into fists. How dare someone sneak in here, go through her things, take her personal property and then put it back like nothing had even happened? If it was the last thing she did, she would find out who had done this. And why.

  A few minutes later, she entered the kitchen. Shelby sat at the counter drinking a Coke and reading the Phoenix Sun. Wearing a bright green and blue sundress with a white tank top under it, she looked fresh and sunny. She looked up and smiled. “Hi, you look better. Did you get some rest?”

  “Not yet, but a shower did wonders.” Mallory nodded at the paper. “Anything interesting in there?”

  Shelby made a face. “Just a small article about the SRPL. They’re at it again. This time they managed to get a copper mine up north shut down. The bastards.”

  “Do you think they’ll manage to keep this ranch from reopening?” Mallory rested a hip against the counter.

  “I hope not.” Shelby’s broad, friendly face took on a hard look. “And not if we can help it. We’ll fight them as hard as we can.”

  “What can you do?”

  “We have to prove we’re not damaging the river or the desert by using them.” She tossed the paper on the counter.

  “That shouldn’t be too hard. Hire a respected biologist who can testify in your favor.” Mallory reached for the paper. “Are you done with this?”

  “Yeah, sure. Do you know how expensive that is? Hiring an expert? Mike is about out of money. He doesn’t think we know, but any fool could see. He has this ranch, but without a business to go with it, it’s virtually worthless.”

  “Could he sell it to developers? They’d probably pay a fortune for it.” The idea of The Cholla being torn up for tract homes made Mallory’s stomach turn.

  “Mike would give it to the wildlife society before he’d do that,” Shelby said. “He grew up here. If that happened, it would rip him apart. He couldn’t stand to go through it.”

  Mallory nodded. On the drive from the Sk
y Harbor, Mike had mentioned how his love for the land went deep. She didn’t doubt him. “How many people from the ranch use the river and the desert?”

  “It varies. At full capacity we have about fifty here a week. But not all of the guests ride, or raft. There are three other rafting businesses up the highway a ways. And a riding stable.”

  That didn’t sound like too many to her, but she’d have to look at the river and the trails to see if there was any actual damage. Maybe she could help out. Her credentials should be good enough to satisfy any judge. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to get involved. These people were strangers to her and one of them had if not stolen, at least borrowed from her without permission. “Does the Bureau of Land Management support this group?” Usually the BLM had jurisdiction over how many people could use public land.

  Shelby shrugged. “No. But it doesn’t matter. They have enough political connections that they pressured a judge into shutting us down. We could have guests on the ranch, but without being able to use the surrounding public lands, there’s nothing for them to do other than swim in the pool, or use the rec room. As you can imagine, that grows old pretty quick.”

  “What will you all do if Mike loses in court?”

  “I have no idea,” Shelby said. She twisted her wedding ring. “This life is all any of us know.”

  “I hope it works out,” Mallory said, meaning it. She picked up the paper. “Do you know where the others are?”

  “I think Mike is sleeping. Alan and Brent must be outside. I don’t know about Dianna.”

  Mallory thanked Shelby and walked outside. Skeeter had believed there was gold in the Superstitions. He had a small vial of it sewn in his pant leg. Where had it come from? What if he had found buried treasure, maybe even the Lost Dutchman? He died while at the ranch. Had someone killed him for his gold? Desperate men had done more for less. And there were a lot of desperate people here.

  But if he’d been killed for gold, why the need to see the map? Had someone known Skeeter had located the treasure, but not divulged the location? Mallory gave her head a little shake. She’d watched too many adventure movies.