Tempting Fate: A Colorado High Country Novel

by Pamela Clare

  “Nicole does understand, and she’s not mad at you, either. I think she’s embarrassed about what she said when she was drunk.”

  Chaska had forgotten about that.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you that Rose wants you to come by and catch a king snake that’s living under her front steps and scaring away customers.”

  “You’re kidding me.” He set plates on the table, held out Naomi’s chair, then took her crutches, while Winona told him about Rose’s call yesterday.

  “I’m afraid if you don’t move it, she’ll call an exterminator.”

  Chaska sat, picked up his fork. “Well, I guess I’ve got a snake to catch.”

  “Are you afraid of snakes?” Chaska drove through the roundabout, where Bear stood in the hot sun, preaching his gospel.

  Naomi waved to him, saw him wave back. “I grew up on a farm. We had snakes all over the place. I got used to them.”

  “You seem unhappy.”

  “I’m not unhappy. I’m … jealous.” There. That was honest.

  “Jealous—of Rose?” He seemed to find this funny, laughing harder than she’d seen him laugh before. “You have nothing to worry about where Rose is concerned.”

  “Win said Rose just wants to get inside your pants.”

  Chaska grinned. “In that case, it’s a good thing you’re coming with me. You can show her that my pants are already occupied.”

  How Naomi was supposed to accomplish this, she didn’t know. “I’m not going to say anything to her.”

  “Oh, angel, you won’t have to.”

  He turned a corner, drove past a beautiful yellow Victorian inn where a woman with short tousled hair was watering a bed of bright daylilies in flip flops and a pink floral kimono that stopped mid-thigh. Chaska pulled over in front of a smaller Victorian house, this one painted white with a pink sign hanging over the porch.

  Rose’s New Age Emporium

  The front door opened, and a woman with long silver hair stepped out. She was wearing a black broomstick skirt and a lacy white peasant top.

  Naomi felt silly. “You didn’t tell me Rose was old enough to be your mother.”

  Chuckling, Chaska climbed out. “Hey, Rose.”

  He made his way around the front of the truck to Naomi’s door, helping her to the ground, then ducking down to press a kiss to her mouth. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

  He walked with her over to the front step, where a large black snake with yellow markings was sunning itself on the concrete. “Hello there, little guy.”

  The moment Chaska’s shadow fell over it, it disappeared back into its hole.

  “Rose, this is Naomi. Naomi, this is Rose.”

  Naomi caught the disappointment that flashed across Rose’s face, but it was gone in an instant, the smile that took its place seeming genuine.

  Rose reached out, touched Naomi’s cheek. “I read about what you went through, dear. My goodness, you’re brave—and beautiful. Are you Native American, too?”

  Chaska didn’t give Naomi time to answer—his attempt to prevent her from having to answer uncomfortable questions. “Tell me what’s going on with this snake.”

  Rose launched into a long story about how it had moved in this spring and how she couldn’t get it to leave. “I’ve smudged it. I’ve dropped garlic in its hole. I put that plastic hawk up on my porch railing. I got some coyote urine from the hardware store, but that didn’t work either.”

  Chaska looked like he was fighting not to laugh. “Well, it sounds like you’ve tried everything.”

  “I respect the snake’s energy. I really do. They’re a symbol of the Goddess, a symbol of rebirth, but most of my customers aren’t as evolved as I am. It scares them. I don’t want to call an exterminator, but it’s hurting my bottom line.”

  The snake stuck its head out again, and Rose jumped, proving that it scared her, too. So much for being evolved.

  “You here about that damned snake?”

  Naomi turned toward the sound of the voice and saw that the woman in the pink kimono wasn’t a woman, but an older man, his face unshaven, the robe open at the top to expose a wedge of gray chest hair.

  “Hey, Bob.” Chaska didn’t seem surprised at all, as if Bob and his pink kimono were the norm here in Scarlet. “This is Naomi Archer. Naomi, this is Bob Jewell, owner of the Forest Creek Inn across the street. He’s Lexi’s dad.”

  “And grandpa to the cutest baby girl on earth. Nice to meet you.” Bob wiped his palm on his kimono and held his hand out for her. “Glad you’re okay, and glad they got those bastards.”

  “I’ve met Emily, and she is cute. And thank you.”

  The two men went back to talking about the snake. They decided to run water down the hole with Rose’s hose. Chaska would catch the snake when it surfaced and stick it in the canvas bag he’d brought. Then he would release it at an old quarry above town.

  “If the snake doesn’t come up quickly, we’ll stop, and I’ll go buy a trap. I don’t want to drown it. Agreed?”

  Chaska went to get the bag out of the back of his truck, while Bob, whose white underwear showed when he bent over, went after Rose’s garden hose.

  Rose turned to Naomi. “How long are you planning to stay in town?”

  “I’m not sure. I was going to be here for a week, but things have changed.”

  Rose lowered her voice, leaned closer. “I’ve always thought Chaska would be amazing in bed—all that intense Scorpio energy. I’ll bet he’s well hung, too.”

  Naomi gaped at Rose, her cheeks burning. “I … I can’t talk about him like that.”

  “I’ve shocked you. Sorry, dear.” She gave Naomi a motherly pat on the arm. “I would have thought a Native girl would be more open about sexuality.”

  Naomi fought to keep the rage from her voice. “Open or not, I would never turn something as beautiful and sacred as my sex life with Chaska into a topic of cheap gossip. I respect him too much for that.”

  She said it loud enough that she was afraid Chaska had heard her.

  Although she’d just told Rose off, Rose seemed delighted. “So, you are lovers.”

  “What?” Hadn’t Rose known that already?

  No, she’d been fishing, and Naomi had just told her what she’d wanted to know. How was she going to explain this to Chaska?

  He glanced over at the two of them, then went back to what he was doing. He got into position off to the side of the snake’s hole where he wouldn’t make a shadow, his hand inside the bag, which he had turned inside out. “Ready.”

  Bob turned on the water, a slow stream running down into the hole.

  The seconds ticked by, and nothing happened. Naomi was sure that Chaska was going to call it off when the snake’s head popped up.

  In a blink, Chaska had grabbed it just behind its head, drawing its body out of the hole and turning the bag right side out, trapping it. The snake fought to escape, its tail curling this way and that.

  “Oh, God!” Rose looked repulsed. “I don’t know how you can touch that thing.”

  Naomi reached over, grabbed its tail, and pushed it into the bag.

  “Thanks.” Chaska flashed her a smile, then spoke soothingly to the snake. “There you go, buddy. You’re okay. No one’s trying to hurt you.”

  Bob walked over to the house to turn off the water, chuckling to himself. “What happened to all that bullshit about respecting the snake’s energy?”

  Rose spluttered. “Well, I…”

  “What the hell are you doing over there in my bathrobe?” A woman stood across the street at the inn, hands on her hips.

  “You told me not to come out in my underwear, woman!” Bob shouted back.

  “Put on some damned pants!”

  Naomi had to fight not to laugh.

  “Rose, you’re going to want to plug that hole before something else moves in.”

  “Right. Thanks so much, Chaska. Stop by for a free tarot reading anytime. You, too, Naomi. I would love to see what’s in your cards.�
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  That was never going to happen.

  Chaska tied off the bag, looked over at Naomi. “Ready to go for a ride?”

  Chaska drove up the winding dirt road to the site of the old quarry, where much of the stone for Scarlet’s earliest buildings had come from. He could tell something was bothering Naomi, though she hid it well, laughing about Bob and his kimono.

  “I’ve got to say it—Scarlet Springs is a little weird.”

  “Only a little? We must be slacking.” Chaska chuckled. “I like it that way. Kendra—the woman you saw yelling at Bob—is Lexi’s stepmom. Lexi’s mom died in a car accident when Lexi and her sister Britta were very little.”

  “That’s awful. It must have been so hard for them.”

  “Yeah.” Chaska knew first hand how that felt.

  Naomi had never asked about his family, but then she’d probably learned early in life not to ask others unless she wanted to answer questions herself.

  He decided to come right out and tell her. “My mother died when I was twelve and Win was ten. She got drunk and wandered outside in a snow storm when we were with our dad. They found her frozen to death ten feet from our front door.”

  Naomi reached over, rested a hand on his thigh. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

  “For a long time, I blamed myself for not being home that night, for not being there to save her.”

  “You were a child. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know that now, but then…” Chaska changed the subject. “So, what were you and Rose talking about?”

  She looked guiltily down at her hands. “She … She tricked me into admitting that you and I are lovers.”

  So that’s what was troubling her.

  Naomi told him the whole story—what Rose had said to her, what she’d said to Rose. “Then she said, ‘So you are lovers.’ I gave her exactly what she wanted. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “You have no reason to apologize.” Chaska kept the grin off his face, touched that Naomi would stand up for his dignity the way she had. “Rose is Scarlet’s biggest gossip. She’s been tricking people into telling her things since before we were born. But just so you know—the entire town is going to know about us before sunset.”

  “You’re not angry?”

  “No. I’m touched by what you said. ‘Beautiful and sacred.’ I like it. I think poor Rose is the one who’s jealous now. Did she really say she thinks I’m hung?”

  Naomi gave a laugh. “You are.”

  He pulled over to the side of the road when they reached the base of the quarry, the mountainside cut away to reveal the limestone beneath. He left Naomi in the truck, got the bag out of the back, and released the snake several feet off to the side of the road. It slithered away in a blink, taking refuge beneath some nearby scrub. There were lots of rodents here for it to eat and plenty of warm stone for it to sun itself on.

  He tossed the empty bag into the back of the truck and climbed inside. “One snake successfully relocated.”

  Naomi looked over at him, her eyes narrowed. “Your decision to help Rose—that was you being a warrior, wasn’t it?”

  He liked that she understood. “Old Man taught me to take responsibility. The more people willing to step up, the happier and safer the community. Now what? I suppose we should head to The Cave. Maybe we can grab some lunch afterward, and then I can give you a tour of my workshop.”

  They found Megs in the ops room listening to traffic on the radio. She smiled when she saw them. “Hey, you two. Lost hiker. Taylor and the other park rangers are in touch with her by cell phone and going to get her, so there’s no need for us to get involved. Did you bring those photos?”

  Chapter 17

  “Do you like tacos?”

  Naomi stared over at Chaska. “Who doesn’t like tacos?”

  “Good answer.” He drove them into town and parked on the street near a taco truck with the words Tacos Sabrosos painted in bright red on the side. “The name means Tasty Tacos. Juana makes the best street tacos in Scarlet. They’re also the only street tacos in Scarlet.”

  This made her laugh.

  He helped her out of the truck then walked beside her, his hand resting against her lower back. “When you get rid of those crutches, I’ll finally be able to hold your hand.”

  His words filled her with hope. “That will be five weeks from now. Are you sure you’re going to want me around that long?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  His answer, and the warmth in his eyes, chased her doubts away—for a while.

  They ordered and paid, Chaska speaking Spanish to the woman at the window, presumably Juana. The sun beat down from a clear sky, and they were lucky to find a table in the shade, the street crowded with tourists. Chaska went back to get their order, returning with drinks, napkins, wet wipes, and two plates of tacos.

  “These are delicious.” The chicken in Naomi’s tacos was tender, the sauce spicy enough to leave a nice burn on her tongue.

  “Told you so.”

  After lunch, they strolled down what served as Scarlet’s main street, passing small shops that sold everything from old fashioned hard candy to tourist stuff to handmade soap and candles. There was more than one empty storefront, big glass windows beneath false fronts with Victorian trim.

  She found herself standing in front of the prettiest one. It was desperately in need of paint, but she looked past that to the delicate scrolling on the trim, the wooden floor inside, the interior brick walls.

  Chaska nuzzled her ear, his hand coming to rest on her back again. “You know, if someone opened a jewelry store in this town, I bet it would do well.”

  She looked up at him, surprised that he’d known what she was thinking. “You really think so?”

  He nodded. “There’s nothing like that here, and your work is so good… You would become one of the reasons people come to Scarlet.”

  He believed in her.

  Chaska believed in her.

  The entire world seemed brighter.

  They went for ice cream after that. Naomi got a cone with butter pecan and strawberry, while Chaska got rocky road. She was licking drips off the sides of the cone, when she noticed that Chaska was watching her tongue.

  Okay, she could have fun with this.

  She licked her way up the mound of ice cream, swirling her tongue around the tip.

  Chaska’s brows drew together, his eyes going dark.

  She did it again and again, flicking the top of the ice cream now.

  “I see what you’re doing. I’m onto you now.”

  “Yeah?” She didn’t stop, consuming the rest of her ice cream the way she might consume him, both amused and titillated by the effect she had on him.

  By the time she had finished, he was more than ready to go home.

  “What’s the hurry?” she asked sweetly.

  “You’re going to find out.”

  He was on her the moment they were inside, crushing her against him, kissing her hard, one hand sliding inside her shirt to caress her breast. He swung her into his arms, stomped up the stairs, then set her on the bed and started taking off his clothes.

  She did the same, as eager for him as he was for her. The moment his cock sprang free, she reached for it, taking the hard length of him into her hand—and then into her mouth. She stroked him with her hand and mouth in tandem, teasing the head with her tongue just as she had the ice cream cone.

  “Stop. Stop! Oh, shit!”

  She drew back, saw pain on Chaska’s face. “Wh-what did I do?”

  “Jalapeños. I didn’t think about that. Damn!” He took off at a run, hand cupped over his penis. “Son of a bitch!”

  She tried to follow, but her crutches were downstairs. “Should I call 911?”

  “No!” he shouted back. “God, no!”

  She hopped out of his room to the stairs, then clutched the rail, hopping down one stair at a time, moans coming from the kitchen, cupboards opening and closing. She picked up her cru
tches and hurried into the kitchen.

  Chaska leaned against the refrigerator, stark naked, eyes squeezed shut, holding a bowl of milk to his crotch, his penis submerged.

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t call for help?”

  “I do not want Hawke over here administering first aid to my dick.” He moaned again. “Milk will neutralize it. It’s not as bad as it was when I came down.”

  “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t think—”

  “It’s not your fault. I should have thought of it.” He gave a tight little laugh, the lines of pain on his face starting to ease. “It’s kind of funny, really.”

  Naomi didn’t think so.

  “I’m really glad Win isn’t home.” He laughed again—and kept laughing.

  Naomi thought about how this must look, the two of them naked, his penis in a bowl of milk, and she laughed, too.

  Chaska spent a good hour soaking his dick in milk and then washing himself with soap and cool water. He knew Naomi felt terrible about what had happened, but it really wasn’t her fault. With his dick out of commission for the moment, they’d ended up in his bed again, snuggling together and talking.

  “What do you normally do when you’re on vacation?” she asked him.

  “I sleep more, and I climb a lot. Sometimes I head up into the mountains for some alpine climbing. Mostly, I spend a lot of time in Eldo—Eldorado Canyon State Park, where we rescued that guy from The Bastille.”

  “You’re not getting to do much of that with me here.”

  He kissed her temple. “I’m not complaining.”

  They talked for hours, a lazy breeze tousling the curtains, the scent of Winona’s roses drifting through the windows. He told her about growing up on Oglala. Swimming in the creek in the summer. The long walks and fishing trips with his grandfather. The teacher who’d recognized that he was gifted and had fought to get him tested. Going on the powwow trail with his grandparents. Learning to ride a horse. Sitting around the fire and listening to his grandfather’s stories about the Iktomi, the spider-trickster spirit.

  She listened, laughed, but something was bothering her. The more he shared about his life, the more wistful the expression on her face became, those beautiful blue eyes filling with shadows.