Speak to the Wind

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Speak to the Wind Page 5

by Mary Tate Engels


  "Mexico?" Maria took the colorful brochure Albert Swimmer handed her. "It looks lovely. But why so far away?"

  “To keep it secret until he is ready."

  "But... this is a little extreme, isn't it? Why not somewhere on the reservation?"

  The Indian spokesman drew himself up and looked her squarely in the eyes. "You don't conduct secret meetings in your own backyard, do you?"

  "Well, no—"

  "We couldn't do this in secrecy on the reservation. People would know."

  "I see." Maria nodded. He had a point. While the reservation seemed remote to most, it was well populated by the Apache people. In some respects, it was like a small town where there were no secrets.

  "We will send you a plane ticket. Our client will meet you there."

  "But if I don't meet him beforehand, how—"

  "You will know him. You have already met him."

  "I have? How do you know who I’ve met?"

  "His name is Joe Quintero.”

  “Oh.” Maria sucked in her breath. “Yes. We’ve met.”

  “He is our choice for the next leader of the High Meadow Apache." The expression in Mr. Swimmer's sharp, dark eyes accentuated his words. "That is, if you do your job, Maria Eden."

  "Look, there are no guarantees here."

  "You just do your job, Ms. Eden. And he will do his."

  Maria nodded mutely, and the men filed out of her office. She could hardly believe what she'd heard. A million questions raced through her head. She was sure Joe was behind this visit from the committee. But why? Did he really need her services? Or was this his way of getting them together? The man was certainly enterprising.

  She recalled his parting kiss as a taste of passion. Sweet and seductive. Whetting her appetite for more. She smiled, remembering that, secretly, the experience had left her shaking with desire.

  Letty poked her head in the door. "I'm dying of curiosity. What did they want?"

  Maria motioned to her secretary. "You’ll never believe this, Letty." She leaned back in her desk chair and started laughing. Clutching her heart, she twirled the desk chair around and around, laughing like a fool.

  "Maria..." Letty looked at her boss strangely.

  "It's all right, Letty. You're going to get your way at long last. I'm going to Mexico with a very handsome man!"

  "What?"

  "Get this. The 'election committee' is a group of High Meadow Apache working to elect a new leader. They're hiring me and sending me to a remote resort in Mexico to work with their candidate. Now can you beat that?"

  "I've never heard of such a thing."

  "Do you remember my telling you about Joe Quintero?"

  "The handsome Apache who helped fight the fire at the cabin? Oh, yes."

  Maria nodded. "He's running for chairman of the High Meadow Apache tribe. The man has never made a public speech. And he's never been on television. He wants me to teach him."

  Letty beamed as she watched her young boss twirl the chair around again. It had been a long time since she'd seen Maria so happy.

  The California sun sent shafts of light across Joe’s desk. He waved his Chief Operating Officer, Kendra McGee into his office. "Come on in and have a seat. Got some things to discuss."

  She referred to a notebook. "Maxwell and I couldn't come to an agreement on the phone, so we set up a meeting for tomorrow to discuss their project. I'd like you to be there, to settle the dust and help us reach a consensus. And your brother returned your call while you were out. He said he'd call again later."

  "Josh called?" Joe shook his head. "Damn! We've been missing each other all day. I’ll call him again in a little while. But first, you and I need to discuss some changes afoot, Kendra." Joe rose from behind his desk and opened a cabinet door. He brought out a bottle of bourbon, usually reserved for clients, and set it on one end of the desk.

  Kendra McGee looked curiously at her boss.

  "I've decided," he said simply.

  "I figured," she answered tightly. "I'd be lying if I didn't admit to spending my share of time worrying about this, Joe."

  He got ice cubes from a small refrigerator in the corner and dropped them into two glasses. Then he sat back down and gazed distractedly at the items. "During all this time of deliberating, I've learned that it's very important to me. More than I realized initially when the tribal committee approached me to run for chairman. I want you to understand, Kendra, that to me it's serious business. At least now, at this point in my life, it is. Maybe at another time I wouldn't be willing or able to spend four years on such a project."

  Kendra tugged at the hem of her skirt. "I'm not making any judgments, Joe. This is your heritage and your business, and I respect both."

  "Thanks. Means a lot to have your support." He looked steadily at her. "I know this probably sounds crazy, Kendra, but I've decided to take their offer and go back. I'm going to run for the office of chairman of the High Meadow Apache."

  “I’m not surprised," she said with a little smile. "But, Joe, what about the company? Four years is a long time and we having twenty-five employees dependent on Quintero Engineering."

  "That's why I called you in today. I'm not going to throw away all I've—we've—worked for here. But I want you to understand what I'm doing and why. And I want you to run the company until my term of office with the tribe is finished."

  Kendra gave a little gasp of surprise. "You... you mean it, Joe?"

  He nodded confidently. "I'm positive. I've thought about this long and hard, just as I've thought about my decision to return to Arizona. I've worked with you for five years now, and I've watched you carefully. I like the way you manage, the way you handle crises. I think you'll do a fine job. I will remain available to you, at any time." He stood and splashed a little bourbon over the melting ice, and handed one glass to her. "This is a challenge, but I know you can handle it. You will be my Acting Chief Executive Officer ."

  "I don't know what to say, Joe."

  "Say yes."

  She nodded. "Of course, yes. All right, yes!"

  He shook her hand firmly and clicked his glass to hers. "Here's to our challenges, Kendra. Yours and mine."

  Kendra stood and returned Joe's toast. “I think you're wise, Joe. And I like your decisions."

  “This is a celebration,” he said and directed her to the small conference table in the corner. "Let's figure out how we'll manage this, Kendra. I won't be completely inaccessible. I'd like to be a part of the major decisions. For instance, I’ll arrange to attend monthly meetings...."

  The two put their heads together to work out a plan, and when Kendra left, it was almost dark. But they had a satisfactory strategy for handling the business.

  Joe looked at the notes scattered on the table, the charts, the new schedules. He knew this whole endeavor was risky. His future was unpredictable. That alone was scary. But also exciting. Challenging. He liked that.

  Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he walked to the window. His view included proof of affluence and signs of further expansion stretching endlessly over the southern California hills. In either direction were fields of newly constructed office complexes, condos, town homes, high-rise apartments. The growth was inevitable and almost out of control.

  After two weeks in the remote White Mountains of Arizona, Joe felt somewhat trapped in California's civilization. He wanted open spaces and lofty mountains thick with timber. He wanted to see the eagles flying free and feel the wind's power in his face. He wanted to kiss Maria again. The phone interrupted his thoughts, and he reached for it.

  "Quintero Engineering."

  "Hey, Joe! How's it going, bro? I got your message to call, but hell, you're never there."

  "That’s what cell phones are for, Josh." Joe smiled at the sound of his brother's voice. "It's about time we connected. How are things in Oklahoma?"

  "Looks like my team is heading for a losing season. Doesn't bode well for the coach."

  “Too bad. And you thought the
y had potential last spring. How are things with you and Judith?"

  "Funny you should ask. She, uh, left last week. This time I think it’s for good."

  Joe sighed. His brother's marriage had been on the verge of collapse for more than a year. "What about Mick?"

  "I will fight not to lose custody of my son; surely you know that."

  "I don't blame you, Josh."

  "What's going on out there on the high-tech coast? Have you decided?"

  "Yep. I'm going to do it."

  "You have my admiration, Joe. Not many men would dump a successful business to go live on a remote Indian reservation. Even if it was for a good cause."

  “I’m not dumping anything. Kendra is taking over. I've seen the way she works, and I trust her. She can handle Quintero Engineering as well as anyone. She’s my new CEO."

  "Sounds like you have it all worked out."

  "Not quite. I need a campaign manager. One I can trust."

  "Are you offering me a job?"

  "Who else? A coach with a losing season and a marriage on the rocks should get the hell out of town."

  "Hell, Joe. I don't know anything about election campaigns."

  "But you know me. And you understand our heritage. And I trust you."

  “I’m choking up."

  Joe laughed. "Well, they're looking for new blood, new ideas."

  "New blood, huh?" Josh chuckled. "Well, I guess that's us."

  "All right! Look, we need to get together to make some plans. Why don't you fly out here next weekend?"

  Joe finished the conversation with his brother and hung up with a satisfied sigh. Things were beginning to fall into place. He was convinced that with thorough planning it could work. He needed Josh as his right hand man, needed someone who understood this quest. He wanted someone who wouldn't question his motives but who would understand that returning to the White Mountains was something he had to do.

  Inevitably Joe's thoughts turned to Maria Eden. She, too, could help him achieve his goals. But would she understand his motives? He clenched his fist. That didn't matter. She would teach him the skills he needed. He told himself that her personal feelings were unimportant.

  He recalled her beauty, pale and delicate. Her blond hair, floating freely in the wind; her smile, tempting; her brown eyes, alluring. The touch of her lips had jolted him to the core, and remembering made him long to feel them again. He could hardly wait for their rendezvous in Mexico. Just this morning he'd received a call confirming her acceptance.

  Joe smiled. It had taken some persuasion, but he had convinced the election committee that he needed her. And he really did. He'd never felt more sure about a woman in his life.

  Chapter Four

  Her plane was late.

  Joe paced in front of the spacious windows of the small Mexican airport, occasionally checking the thick, low hanging layer of clouds. He approached the ticket counter for the third time in twenty minutes, unable to mask his uneasiness. "Excuse me, sir. Can you give me any information on Flight 1482 from Phoenix?"

  The ticket agent didn't even look up from his newspaper. "She is late, senor."

  "I can see that. Do you have any idea when it will arrive?"

  "She is storming everywhere. Very bad."

  "Has the plane taken off from Phoenix?"

  "I do not know, senor."

  Joe's frustration mounted with each of the agent's seemingly indifferent remarks. "Well, what the hell do you know?"

  The man shrugged and rattled the paper as he turned the page. "She is raining, senor."

  "She sure is." Joe muttered and stalked away. He stood by the window, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other impatiently twirling a yellow rose. Rain pelted the runway, making tiny pockmarks in the sheet of water that covered it.

  He'd arrived yesterday, before the weather fell apart, to a warm, sunny Mexico. Dammit, why couldn't the weather be nice for Maria's arrival? He thought of her, a woman who'd captured his imagination from the beginning. What would she be like as he got to know her? Would the spark they'd both felt last month in the mountains still be there?

  It was another hour and a half before the local airport staff began moving about, indicating on a crude bulletin board the arrival of Flight 1482 originating in Phoenix. Joe felt some degree of anxiety as he watched the plane emerge from the low ceiling of gray-white clouds and splash down onto the sheet of water covering the runway. It was with great relief that he recognized Maria making her way down the steep metal air stairs. She dashed across the tarmac through the pouring rain.

  Standing in the customs line with the other passengers, she threw back the hood of her beige raincoat. Her blond hair had been neatly tucked into a knot, but several tendrils had worked loose and hung in soft waves around her face. She was beautiful as ever, and he felt more than sparks as he waited for her. It was all Joe could do to stay on the far side of the barrier, away from her.

  Maria spotted Joe and gave him a little wave of recognition. She could hardly wait to get out of the tiny terminal and be with him. It was a long anticipated moment that was delayed even longer for passport checks. Now, after running through the rain, she was wet and cold.

  Water squeezed between her toes, oozing around inside her pink pumps as she stood in line. Dammit, why had she worn them, anyway? Now she’d ruined her new shoes. Trying to disregard the unpleasantness, she assumed her well-trained, confident bearing and smiled at Joe, who waited so impatiently across the terminal.

  The way he paced the tile floor reminded her of a caged tiger. In the month since they'd met in the White Mountains, she'd forgotten how handsome he was, how large and powerful he looked compared with those around him. Yes, Joe Quintero would make an imposing chairman for the Apache.

  She'd also forgotten how much his strong masculinity appealed to her. Or perhaps she'd been successful in pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind. Until now.

  Today he was devastatingly informal in pleated white trousers and a textured white cotton sweater. He wore leather huaraches—Mexican sandals—on bare feet, and his copper skin contrasted with his entire outfit. He'd let his dark hair grow a little so that it edged his collar. His expression was serious, almost brooding, and his eyes were like onyx, shiny but intense. In one large hand he toyed with a single yellow rose. There was only one word for him today—sexy—and Maria couldn't avoid thinking it, try as she might.

  When Maria finally walked through the customs gate toward him, Joe felt a strong impulse to wrap his arms around her and greet her with a kiss. A long, meaningful kiss. But he was too reserved and felt that now wasn't the time or the place, so he handed her the rose with a smile. "Welcome to sunny Mexico, Maria. I'm afraid the sun's taking a siesta today."

  Maria took the flower, touched by the romantic gesture. "Why, thank you, Joe. What a nice, but wet, welcome."

  "All day I kept telling myself they must have rain to produce such beautiful flowers this time of year." His sweeping gaze took in her hair and the rain-spotted shoulders of her raincoat. "But why did it have to pour today?"

  They moved out of the stream of traffic and stood facing each other. She tucked a damp strand of hair back into place, but it returned to droop beside her ear in a loose curl. “I’m soaked. I must be a mess."

  He breathed in her faintly floral fragrance and found her wildly alluring, especially in her slightly disheveled state. Decent conversation became a struggle. "You're lovely... er, you're just fine. Did you have a rough flight?"

  "Wasn't the smoothest. Did you have to wait long?"

  "Couple of hours."

  "I'm sorry, Joe. Wish there had been some way to warn you about the delay."

  "No trouble. Seeing you is worth the wait." He quickly amended his statement. "Seeing you down safely. Although I'm sure everything was under control. It's just that when you're waiting here in Mexico, you sometimes don't know what's happening. It's nerve racking."

  "We were tossed around quite a bit up there," she said wit
h a little chuckle. "Not fun."

  He gave her a little smile. "Well, now that you're here, we can both breathe easier. Do you have luggage?"

  "Lots, I'm afraid." She smiled apologetically. "I try to travel light, but I had to pack more clothes than usual because I'm staying so long. And, of course, the video equipment."

  "Video equipment? Just for me?"

  "It's part of the Speechcraft training, whether there's one or fifty-one," she explained. "After we've been through some of the strategies and I've taught you a thing or two, I'll make a video of you and well see how much you've learned. And, of course, my computer."

  "I hope we don’t have electronic problems. Even TV reception is poor." With his hand lightly on her back Joe guided her to the edge of the crowd awaiting luggage. "The whole thing sounds complicated."

  "Not really. We’ll use electronics as one of several learning tools. It helps both of us decide quickly what improvements you may need to make. And what’s satisfactory. We work on them together. It's a process that I'll explain more fully later."

  "I'm impressed already."

  "Joe, I want you to know that I'm honored to be chosen to work with the Apache candidate." She smiled genuinely. "This is one of the most important assignments I've had, and I've either put things on hold or turned them over to my assistant in order to give you my best effort."

  "I rank that high, huh?" His dark eyes twinkled with a touch of light.

  "You bet. And I appreciate your recommendation to the election committee."

  "You understand, I hope, that I really want... no, I really need your help, Maria." He grew serious again. "I don't have any experience in the areas of communications, especially the public kind. In my business there was no need for it. The incumbent's opposing me in this election. And Ben Cartaro's been doing this for years, too many years. Kissing babies and making speeches comes naturally to him."

  "Those are learned techniques," she said with a wily grin. "And I'm sure you'll be speaking with ease in no time. You have a lot of natural ability." She had dreamed about his natural ability, but it had nothing to do with speech making. Now, though, she had to forget that and get down to business. Joe's future could well depend on her. It was a sobering thought.

 

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