“It's just a small token of appreciation. I wanted you to remember the Indian guy you met late one night at High Meadow."
“I’ll remember." She set her cup down on the coffee table and paced around the living room, occasionally swiping a line of soot from a piece of furniture. She paused by the huge fireplace, imagining it standing alone amid smoking charcoal posts.
Joe's gaze followed hers. "Looks like it could last forever. But a fire would destroy it all."
"My father built it of native rocks. My brother, Rob, and I helped him gather them when we were just kids. It took us the better part of one whole summer. I dropped a rock on my foot and broke a bone." She paused and chuckled. "This is silly. You don't want to hear—"
"Yes, I do. You need to talk about it, Maria."
"But you don't need to listen."
Joe walked over to her and touched the back of her hand with his fingertips. "I want to."
She looked up and saw the sincerity in his dark eyes. And she was spurred to recall the happy memories. "That autumn Dad hired a stonemason from Show Low to help him build it. I remember when we lit our first fire that winter. We had a party and roasted hot dogs on sticks." She chuckled. "Then we made those gooey things with marshmallows and chocolate mashed between graham crackers."
"S'mores?"
"Yes, that's it."
Joe loved to see her laugh. "Sounds as though there's a world of memories here."
"Good ones." She walked around the room, touching things.
"You have some fine Indian art, too."
"My father's collections."
"When did he pass away, Maria?"
Maria looked up at Joe, surprised. "How did you know?"
"I asked someone about you."
She accepted his curiosity about her with a little smile. It was nice to know that their interest had been mutual. "What do you want to know? Ask me."
"I wanted to know if you were married. You have that band on the right hand."
She looked down at the band, then back up, waiting for him to finish.
"You never know. It wouldn't do for me to be interested in a married woman." Certainly not now, he thought. An Anglo woman might present enough problems. But a married one? No way.
"You're interested?"
He nodded. "I was curious about why you wore that gold band on your right hand."
"I’m a widow." She shrugged. "And I’m not ready to pack the ring in a box in back of a drawer. It meant too much at one time."
"Sounds like it still does."
She didn't answer for a moment. “Time has eased the intense pain."
"But not the memories." He set his cup on the mantel, walked to the window and stared out. "Do you, uh, have a man in your life right now?"
She sat on the edge of a chair and sipped her coffee. "Look, Joe, I stay pretty busy traveling."
He mulled over her comment and gazed quietly out the window. So was she saying for him not to bother?
"What about you?"
He looked up, startled that she would ask. "Uh, no. There's no one special."
"Well, now that we've established availability, I should warn you—"
"I know," he interrupted. "You aren't interested, right?"
“No, I’m not very available. I have a business that takes most of my time. It isn't you, Joe. I just don't have much time for a social life."
"Meaning you don't allow much time for it."
"Something like that." She traced a line along the wooden chair arm, then realized she was drawing in soot, not dust. "Oh my God! This place is filthy! Don't sit down. You’ll ruin your clothes." She hurried into the kitchen. Returning with a wet sponge, Maria began to wipe furiously at the chair.
He moved closer, bending down to her level. "You know, Maria, it would be easier for us if you lived here."
Her gaze met his steadily. "I, uh, my business is in Phoenix. But I come up here several times a year." She smiled gently. "Look me up if you're ever in town when I am."
"I can tell you this. Meeting you has already complicated my life. When I go back to California, I’ll dream about the beautiful blonde I met in the White Mountains." The serious lines in his face had eased, and his ebony eyes twinkled.
She grinned. "And I’ll be dreaming about the dashing Apache brave who saved my cabin from disaster."
"I'm afraid you'll have to include half the High Meadow tribe plus the forest service fire fighters, the Show Low Fire Department and a number of volunteers in your dream. I wouldn't be the lone hero here."
“To me you are."
He struggled to keep from taking her in his arms. She could claim she wasn't interested in him all day, but he read the signs differently. And he knew how he felt right now. Fighting a tender desire for her, he rose and moved to the mantel.
Maria rubbed the chair vigorously as if they hadn't come within a hair's breadth of kissing.
Then Joe spotted a small photo of Maria arm in arm with a handsome young man. Instantly his ardor cooled. "How long, uh..." He gestured toward the picture.
She glanced up, then continued to wipe the chair. "Wayne died five years ago." There was a time when she couldn't talk about her former husband without falling apart.
Joe shuffled his feet. "You probably find this hard to believe after my admitting an attraction to you, but I'm sorry, Maria. You obviously loved the guy very much."
She nodded. "Fate doesn't discriminate, does it? My father had a fatal heart attack the next year."
"And after that you threw yourself into your business."
"I discovered how working long hours can leave you so exhausted that it soothes heartaches and obliterates memories."
"Or masks them."
She shrugged and sat where she'd been wiping. "Maybe. But it enabled me to go on. For a while I thought I couldn't."
"You're a strong woman, Maria Eden." He took a seat in the chair opposite hers.
"Don't sit there. I haven't cleaned it yet."
"It doesn't matter. I'm a mess, anyway."
She touched her coffee cup, fumbled with it, then pushed it aside. "I asked someone about you, too, Joe."
"Oh?" He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his widespread knees. His hands almost touched her knees, and he wanted to reach out to her. But he didn't. "And what did you find out about me besides my folks' accident?"
"That you and your brother were sent to Indian school in Phoenix. In high school you excelled in sports, then went to ASU on an athletic scholarship and became a successful businessman in California."
"Did you also learn that I never came back to my heritage? To my people?"
"No. Is that important to you, Joe?"
His dark eyes narrowed. "Sometimes I think about it. Think what they need. What I have to offer. And it's important, yeah."
"So what are you going to do about it? Are you coming back?"
"Probably."
"Are you saying you want to contribute, to do something for your people?"
"Sounds sappy, doesn't it?"
"No, not really. But what would you do up here? Where would you work?"
He shook his head as if he had no idea. Sighing, he pushed himself to his feet. "I wish I could stay longer, but there's too much to do before I leave. I'd like it if we had a little more time together, before we have to both have to go, Maria."
She looked up at him and surprised herself. "Me too."
"I can't tonight. Plans..."
"That's okay. Another time, Joe." She figured his last night in the mountains was committed to a woman, even though he’d said, ‘no one special.’ After all, it was only natural. Maria smiled wryly at her momentary jealousy and stood up beside him. He towered over her. Dammit, this was it. Quick to attract, quick to part.
"I have commitments I can't break."
“It's okay. You don't have to explain anything to me, Joe."
"But I want to, Maria." He touched her hand.
She tingled with warm signals that
seemed to radiate from that spot of contact. Her breath caught in her throat, and she fought to hide her reactions. It was absolute craziness, this damned palpitating heart business every time she was near him. But she couldn't help herself. Then Maria did something very uncharacteristic for her. She reached up and kissed him briefly on the cheek. "Thanks for everything," she said softly. “Nice to meet you, Joe Quintero.”
Joe responded by leaning down and kissing her, too. But his kiss was planted solidly on her lips. "My pleasure, Maria Eden." he murmured after a moment. Then, with a power beyond his control, he pulled her close and his lips claimed hers again.
This time there was no mistaking the embrace was sparked by the passion of a man for a woman. Maria could smell the smoke that had permeated their clothes and skin as she was drawn against him. She knew his masculine power, and the sensation excited her. Sparks of long hidden passion began to explode deep inside as she responded to their closeness. His lips felt warm and supple as they covered hers, his tongue tantalized the curved lines of her mouth. And she opened for more of him.
Suddenly Joe raised his head, abruptly breaking their contact. His voice was low and ragged. “Till next time, Maria."
She could think of no quick comeback and merely smiled faintly and tried to catch her breath. She'd been overwhelmed by this man and her own response to him. Silently she followed him to the porch and waved as he drove away. Maria was suddenly overcome with the most desperate urge to race after him.
Yet an inner voice told her realistically that they'd never see each other again. She knew it was entirely likely since her business kept her in Phoenix and traveling frequently. And his work kept him in California or occasionally here in the White Mountains.
Hell, given the odds, it was probable that they'd never have this chance again. After all, they were both busy and moved in different circles. No chance of their paths crossing.
Goodbye, Joe Quintero.
She turned away from the sight of his borrowed pickup disappearing down the road and faced the extreme loneliness of her own life. In the distance was the sound of thunder. It would be raining soon. But it didn't matter now. The fire was out.
Chapter Three
Maria’s busy life returned to normal with meetings, out-of-town business trips and absolutely no contact from Joe Quintero. She went to Dallas for three days, then on to Houston promoting Speechcraft Inc. Back in sunny Phoenix, she breezed into the office Monday morning, and dropped four new files on her secretary's desk. "Morning, Letty. Give me a few minutes to get organized, then come on in for letters to these new clients. We need to work out a potential schedule for them, too."
Letty smiled up at her ambitious young boss. "Good morning, Maria. How was Texas?"
“Fine. Busy. I’ll give you details later."
"Looks like you spent the weekend working again." Letty bent her graying head over the folders Maria left her. "You already have new client profiles made?"
"How else can I get anything done?"
"There's always the regular work week, five days is enough for the rest of us."
Maria shook her head quickly. "Not for me. Too much to do. And see how far ahead we are? We're ready to start working with these new clients."
"Don't you ever rest, Maria?"
"What are you, my mother?"
"Mother-substitute," Letty said with a gentle chuckle. "I have a feeling your mother is too much like you to fuss about your workaholic life-style."
"She is," Maria confirmed with a satisfied smile. "She learned the values of working hard first and taught me. Is Kay in yet?" She nodded toward the office of Kay Barlow, her assistant.
"No. She called to say she'd be a little late today. Randy has a runny nose and the day care wouldn't let him attend sick. So she's arranging for a neighbor to take care of him."
"When she gets here, let me know. We have to consult on these new clients. Two of them want general Speechcraft seminars, and I think she should do them. Another wants an individual speech consultant. It’ll be good experience for her." Maria walked toward her office door, leafing through the mail.
"There were several messages over the weekend," Letty said. "I left notes about them on your desk."
Maria entered her large windowed, roomy office. The bold contemporary Southwestern decor provided a feeling of space, even though it was full of tall bookshelves that lined two walls with a small seating area tucked into one corner. Her desk, a huge, L-shape creation, allowed her to spread out her numerous projects.
"Letty?" she called. "What's this?"
"I knew it," Letty muttered under her breath. "Are you talking about the election committee? Listen to the second message on the answering machine."
"Uh-huh. What election committee? City, county, state or...bigger?"
Letty brought a cup of steaming coffee laced with cream to Maria's desk. "I don't think it's anything very big. Just interesting." She pushed the button to play back the message in question. "They even set their own appointment time this morning. Nice, huh?"
"Uh-huh." Maria sipped her coffee standing up. "The election committee seems quite sure of itself. It's a good thing there isn't anything else scheduled at nine o'clock. Otherwise 'the committee' would just have to wait."
"Right. Sounds as though he has an accent. Maybe Hispanic."
"Or Indian."
Letty raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "You would know more about that than I, Maria." She returned to the outer office, and precisely at nine she buzzed the intercom. "Ms. Eden, the election committee is here to see you. And you were right."
"Okay, send them in." Curiously Maria stood up and waited for the mystery guests who had failed to identify themselves on their message, but who had made their own appointment.
In a quiet flurry three dark-haired, impressive men entered her office. They were dressed modestly, except for the outrageous chunks of turquoise jewelry they wore. Bola ties, belt buckles, rings and watches were outstandingly decorated with the blue-green gem. The three shook hands with her, and Maria offered them seats.
Politely they declined and continued to stand in a semicircle around her desk. Maria stood, also.
"I am Albert Swimmer," the eldest man began. "This is John Cody. And Phillip Alchesay. We are members of the election committee for the High Meadow Apache Tribe."
"It's nice to meet you," Maria responded. So it was that election committee. Her mind whirled. But why in the world would these men want to see her? Did it have something to do with her cabin? Or the fire? Instinctively she waited for the men to state their case.
"We are supporting a new leader for our tribe," Albert Swimmer continued. "One who has the interest of his people at heart. One who knows the ways of his people and will not go against them. One who is smart like the coyote and wise like the eagle. One who can teach his people new and better ways to do things, yet who knows the value of keeping the old traditions." He paused and looked at his companions. They nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I understand." Maria nodded solemnly, too.
"The man we have chosen to lead our people is wise in many ways, but he has no experience in making speeches or in speaking to the television, radio and all that other social media. He is an Apache who knows about the white man's ways. He wants to learn how to work with the Anglo community as well as the Indian. Can you teach him these things?"
As they talked, Maria realized this election committee was considering hiring her to work with their chosen candidate. They could see the value in having a leader who could speak to the media with relative ease and the necessity of being able to move between the two cultures. It was always difficult to change from being a private person to a public figure. In the Indian community, that was an even bigger step. Immediately she was intrigued with the concept.
Maria gave Albert Swimmer a direct, businesslike gaze. "That's the purpose of my business. I do workshops for business groups or individuals. In fact, I've worked with many candidates for public office, in
cluding governors and senators who are now in office."
Mr. Swimmer raised one hand. “To be an Indian leader is different. We do not want a white man's version of a leader. But we want our candidate to be a good representative of his people. This is a time of working together, the Anglo and the Indian, and our leader must be able to do that."
"I can assure you, I have nothing to do with personal philosophy or direction. I teach my clients the importance of listening and the mechanics of speaking and conducting themselves in difficult situations, not in what to say. In the end, what they do with my instructions is up to them."
The eldest Apache nodded. "Good. That is good. That is what we want. You teach him the correct way to work and his heart will show him the correct way to act in the best interest of his people."
Maria smiled. If only life really worked out that way, every client she taught would be a dynamic leader and his or her heart would do the rest. Unfortunately every individual was human, subject to his or her limitations. Maria fully believed that her clients functioned better in public spheres after taking her courses. She couldn't work miracles, however. She gave no guarantees of success.
"I'd like to talk to your candidate before we make any final decisions. We’ll see if we can work well together. Also, I have an assistant. Sometimes she has a better rapport with a new client. You can let me know later if you want Speechcraft's services."
"We have already made the decision. Our candidate wants to work with you. Only you." Albert Swimmer fumbled in his coat pocket and drew out an envelope. He took a step forward and laid it on Maria's desk. "We will pay for this teaching. But we want it kept between us. We do not want anyone knowing, especially the news media."
“I understand. I work in strictest confidence with my clients. You have my assurance that any of our meetings will be confidential."
"We are willing to send you to another place to meet with him in private."
"Oh?" Maria raised her eyebrows, thinking the remote Apache reservation was sufficiently private. "Where?"
“To a quiet place in Mexico. A nice little resort in a fishing village. Our candidate will meet you there in two weeks. There you can teach him in private. Out of sight from anyone."
Speak to the Wind Page 4