With that, he turned on his heel and headed back toward Legend.
Feeling very alone, Kady walked toward the mountains. She was fairly sure that she could find the petroglyphs by herself, and when she did, she knew that she would find the doorway. And when she went through it, what would she find? Maybe there’d be a time error and she’d arrive in Legend in 1917. Or maybe the rock would close around her as she walked through it and she’d be trapped.
Suddenly, she wished Tarik were with her, then told herself that was a stupid thought. Why was she so attracted to a man like him? Why wasn’t she remembering every minute she’d spent with Cole and longing to go back to him? Why had this dark man blocked out her memories of any other man?
“He means absolutely nothing whatever to me,” she said as she put her chin in the air and kept walking, not noticing that “he” meant Tarik.
In the hundred years since she’d been there last, the trail up the mountain had changed. Some of the rocks had eroded, and the trees had changed. A big old cottonwood was gone, and in its place were several seedlings. But the ancient piñon trees didn’t seem to have grown an inch.
When she finally reached the sheer rock face, she had to pull aside scraggly vines to see the petroglyphs, now not as clear as they had been many years before, but she could still see them.
Stepping back, Kady looked at the rock and waited for it to open. When nothing happened, she went to it and ran her hands over the surface as though she were looking for a latch.
“Try, ‘Open sesame,’” came a voice from behind her.
Turning, Kady saw Tarik standing there, the now-familiar smirk on his handsome face, but when he saw her, his expression changed. Leaping down from the rock he was standing on, he put his arms around her and drew her to him.
“Kady, honey, you’re shaking like a leaf. Come on, sit down.” With his arms still around her, he led her to a low rock and gently seated her, then gave her a drink of water from a bottle he had hooked to his belt.
“Better?” he asked, sitting beside her, his arms still around her.
“I’m not your honey, and what are you doing here?”
“Taking care of my wife. You like habibbi better?”
“I don’t like any endearments from you, and I’m not your wife.” Her words would have had more impact if she hadn’t remained in the circle of his arms and hadn’t put her head down on his shoulder and hadn’t allowed him to brush her hair from her eyes with his fingertips.
“How do you know so much?” she asked softly as she leaned against him.
“I know surprisingly little, but I’m a good listener. Want to tell me everything?”
She did want to share what had happened to her with someone—no, not just anyone, with him—but at the same time she was afraid to allow herself to indulge her feelings since they could lead nowhere.
“No,” she said as she pulled away from him and made herself sit upright.
“Damn it! What is it about me you don’t like?”
“Lawsuits!” she said. “And . . . And . . .”
“That suit was prepared years before I met you. Fowler was instructed to call another law firm if you showed up, and the lawsuit was sent automatically.”
“Is that supposed to make me forgive you?”
When she tried to move away, he caught her shoulders, turning her to look at him. “Yes,” he said softly, “I want you to forgive me. I want—Oh, Kady, I want you.”
Before Kady could form a protest, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, and she knew that never in her life had she been kissed before. Not like this man kissed her. Gregory had kissed her with reservations and caution. Cole’s kisses had been filled with humor and the excitement of a young boy. But this man kissed her in a way that made her want to become a part of him.
Turning her head in his big hand, he moved her mouth so he could better reach parts of it that no other man had. His tongue touched hers, and Kady felt so weakened that she seemed to melt her body into his, hers so soft, his so hard.
His hands moved down her back, entangled in her hair that came loose from its thick braid. His mouth seemed to cover hers; his hands caressed her, his fingertips easily finding her breasts and covering them.
“Kady, I . . .” he said as he moved his mouth away and pulled her close to him. His grip was almost crushing her, and she could barely breathe, but that didn’t seem to matter right now.
“Yes,” she whispered, encouraging him to speak. But what would he say? That he too had never felt this way? That no woman had ever made him feel this way? Not likely!
As Tarik held her, knowing that he was not going to be able to prevent himself from making love to her here and now, and thinking, So this is what it feels like to be in love, he glanced up at the rock and what he saw made his thoughts freeze.
It was as though the solid rock face had turned into a life-size movie screen, and through the opening he could see what was undoubtedly Legend of long ago. There was a saloon with four garishly dressed women sitting on the balcony. Horses, tied to rails, flicked flies with their tails while two men who looked as though they’d never had a bath in their lives walked through muddy streets.
The sight was so shocking that for a moment Tarik forgot all about having finally achieved his goal of holding Kady in his arms. Instinctively, his arms tightened about her, not in passion but in protection. Up until now he had not believed a word of what he’d been able to piece together of her story of what had happened to connect her with the Jordan family.
Years ago, he had researched all he could find about his family history, trying to figure out why his ancestor Ruth Jordan had left all their family’s money in trust to a stranger who had yet to be born. He’d found out a great deal of family history but no explanation.
Now, as Tarik stared at the living, breathing scene in front of him, he knew that whatever Kady said had happened to her was true.
The doors to the saloon opened, and he could hear the sounds of a badly tuned piano coming from inside. And he could smell the mud and horse manure and the unwashed bodies.
“What was that?” Kady asked, but when she tried to turn her head, he held her fast.
“Nothing, sweetheart,” he whispered, pushing her head back to his shoulder and holding it there. He’d never felt this way about a woman before, as though he wanted to wrap her in silk and protect her from all harm.
“No!” Kady suddenly cried as she pushed against him sharply, then looked at the rock.
To Tarik’s astonishment, the second she turned her head, the rock closed, and for several moments both of them stared in silence at nothing but the ordinary rock face.
“It was open, wasn’t it?”
“Open?” Tarik asked, doing his best to feign ignorance. But what he had seen had shocked him, and he was having difficulty hiding that shock. “What was open?” He gave her a hot look. “Just you, open to me.” He knew he was acting like a dirty old man, but he wanted to make her angry, so angry that she’d turn and run down the mountain, as far away from this place as she could possibly get. If that vile rock “opened” again, would she jump up and run through it?
“Get away from me,” she said, pushing at him. “And in the future I’d appreciate it if you kept your hands off of me.”
“How can I do that when there is so much of you that I want to touch?”
Tarik had wanted to anger her, but he got more than he bargained for.
Jumping up, Kady put her hands on her hips and glared down at him. “So you think I’m fat, do you?”
“Fat?” Tarik said and was so bewildered by this statement that he forgot about the rock. What in the world had he said that made her think he thought she was fat? He knew she wasn’t as thin as was the fashion now, but Kady was the most luscious woman he’d ever seen in his life. Every second that he’d had to force himself not to touch her had caused him real pain.
“I want you to stay away from me,” she said in a hiss, then turned an
d started down the mountain, while Tarik sat in stunned silence on the rock.
But as soon she rounded the bend, the rock opened again, and he saw Legend in all its muddy splendor. As though hypnotized, he moved to stand just outside the opening. All he had to do was step through, and he’d be in another time and place.
But as Tarik looked at the opening, he stepped back. He knew that his ancestors lived in that town, but if he went through, he might never be able to return to this day and time. And if he didn’t return, he’d lose Kady. He’d lose the woman he’d been waiting for all his life.
Turning, he began to run down the mountain toward her, but she was moving so quickly that she was nearly at the Hanging Tree before he caught up with her. She was so angry with him that she wouldn’t acknowledge his presence.
After several attempts to get her to listen to him, he grabbed her into his arms and held her tightly despite struggles.
“I am not Gregory,” he said into her face, “and I’m damned if I’m going to allow you to think that I am.”
“Let me go,” she said, struggling against him. “I don’t want you near me.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” he said, still holding her. “What you’re saying is not what I see in your eyes. Kady, my love, look at me.”
“No,” she said, no longer struggling but keeping her arms close to her body and her hands balled into fists.
“I think you are beautiful,” he said, then kissed her cheek. “Really truly beautiful.” He kissed the other cheek. “I think you are the most luscious, desirable woman I have ever seen in my life.” He kissed her forehead. “And I would like nothing better in the world than to take you to bed and”—he kissed her nose—“and make love to you all day long.” He kissed her chin. “Just the sight of you inflames me to lust, and I would like to put my hands on—”
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the very loud sound of a motorcycle coming from behind her. As Tarik’s arms tightened on Kady protectively, she tried to turn to see who was coming. Somehow she couldn’t imagine Uncle Hannibal riding a motorcycle.
“Damnation!” Tarik said under his breath, then looked at Kady. “I’m sorry for what is about to happen,” he said, and there was great sadness in his eyes.
“Sorry for—” she began, but he pushed her away and told her to go stand under the safety of the Hanging Tree.
Kady didn’t think of hesitating as she scurried to obey him. Once she was under the shelter of the tree, she turned and saw a huge motorcycle approaching with a rider dressed all in black leather, a helmet hiding the face.
As the big machine roared toward Tarik, Kady instinctively stepped closer to the tree, but Tarik, standing in the open, didn’t so much as move as the bike headed straight toward him.
“Watch out!” she shouted, and could barely hear herself over the machine, but Tarik raised his hand to tell her to stay where she was. There was a look of profound disgust on his face.
As Kady watched, the motorcycle turned in a sharp circle around Tarik, gravel flying, but he didn’t flinch. Finally, it halted in front of him in the midst of a whirlwind of dust, but Tarik, hands at his side, still didn’t move.
Kady, several feet away, was coughing up dust as she watched the rider slowly remove black leather gloves, and she saw the hands of a woman. The next minute the rider removed her helmet, and out cascaded a yard of red hair. With a swing of an impossibly long leg, she dismounted the motorcycle and stood in front of Tarik, so close her breasts were almost touching his chest.
Of course, she could be standing a foot away and that would still be the situation, Kady thought as she looked at the woman. She was six feet, if she was an inch, and she was statuesque, powerfully and strongly built. Eye level with Tarik, she put her hand behind his head and kissed him while he stood immobile, not touching her.
But he was not pulling away, Kady thought, her hands clenched at her sides. Not that it was any of her business, she reminded herself, and knew she should go back to the house. Or maybe to . . . Well, to anywhere but here. But in spite of her sensible thoughts, she stayed glued to the spot and stared at that woman kissing her husband.
In the next moment, Kady reminded herself that Mr. C. T. Jordan had no official relationship with her. They weren’t even friends.
“Darling, I knew you’d come for me,” the woman said in a throaty voice that Kady was sure would turn on any man who heard it. “I knew that as soon as I sent you that fax you’d come and rescue me.”
Tarik didn’t answer, but did take a step back from her grasp.
As though the woman had a second sense, she turned impossibly emerald green eyes to Kady. Contact lenses? Kady thought.
“And who is your little friend?” the woman asked.
When Tarik turned to look at Kady, he wore the look of a man who knew there was going to be trouble and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. “Ah, Wendell, this is Kady Long, and, Kady, this is my cousin, Wendell Jordan.”
Wendell looked Kady up and down. “Tarik, darling, she doesn’t look your type at all. Or are your standards slipping?” Possessively, she put her arm around Tarik’s shoulders. He wasn’t more than a couple of inches taller than she was.
The Kady of a few months ago would have been intimidated by someone like the magnificent Wendell Jordan, but after what Kady had been through, not much seemed to frighten her. “How do you do?” she asked, moving forward and smiling sweetly at the woman, then she gave an amused little chuckle. “I think my husband is a bit confused. I’m Kady Jordan, not Long, and we’re here on our honeymoon. For a wedding gift he gave me the town of Legend. Wasn’t that sweet of him?”
Kady was happy to see that this announcement startled the woman into silence, and when Kady reached Tarik, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him in a wifely way on the cheek. “After you finish catching up on old times with your cousin, do come along, dear, I want you to help me wash my hair. I know how much you love to brush it.”
With that, Kady turned and walked away.
Behind her she heard Wendell say, “You didn’t really marry her, did you, darling?” She heard Tarik’s answering chuckle, and she knew that she had surprised and, possibly, pleased him.
Humming to herself, feeling that she had just slain a dragon, Kady went back to the house. “I wonder who does the cooking around here?” she said aloud as she stepped onto the porch.
“Whoever is hungry first,” came a voice that nearly made Kady jump out of her skin.
Swinging down from the porch roof was a beautiful young man. Not of the caliber of Tarik, but he was like something out of Li’l Abner. He was wearing a pair of farmer’s overalls with no shirt underneath, and his young muscles bulged, while his blue eyes twinkled under a thatch of dark blond hair. She would have recognized him as a relative of Cole’s anywhere.
“Share the joke?” he asked, smiling in an infectious way.
“Ever see the movie Li’l Abner?”
“I think so. Do I remind you of anyone?” His pride in himself was evident.
“Li’l Abner, of course. And that woman on the motorcycle is Moonbeam McSwine.” She laughed, then looked startled. “Oh! She must be your . . .”
“Sister. Much, much older sister, and I’ve never heard her described more aptly. I’m Luke Jordan, and who exactly are you?” He was advancing on her.
“My wife,” came from the patch of grass in front of the house, and they both turned to see Tarik standing there, his eyes hot coals of anger. “And if you look at her like that again, I’ll make you regret it.” There wasn’t a touch of humor in his voice or manner.
Instantly, the blond man leaped over the porch rail, obviously aiming to land directly on Tarik, but the older man sidestepped him, and the younger one went skidding into the dirt.
“Think you can take me, little boy?” Tarik said, his hands in the traditional pose of a person who has studied martial arts.
“I want your woman. You, I care nothing about.”
For a few moments Kady stood on the porch and watched in horrified fascination. She had never seen anyone fight with the ease and grace that Tarik did, and he never lost his smug smile while doing it. He was so much better than the young man that there was no contest. Within minutes, the younger man’s nose was bleeding and there was a bloody scrape on his side where he had landed on gravel.
“Stop it!” Kady yelled, but neither man paid any attention to her as the younger blond man kept lunging and the older one kept dodging, then tripping his opponent.
“Stop it!” she yelled again and ran down the stairs, and without thought for her own safety, she jumped between the two men. Unfortunately, her leap was so ill timed that she stopped just under the young man as he was in midair. He’d been aiming to come down on top of Tarik and thereby cushion his landing, but Tarik grabbed Kady and twisted sideways, so the young man landed facedown in the thinly grassed area, his mouth full of dirt.
Jerking out of Tarik’s hold, Kady went to the young man. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve hurt him.”
“Yeah, cousin, you’ve hurt me,” the man said, sitting up and wiping blood from his nose.
Until now Kady had thought the fight was real, but now, looking from one to the other, she realized it was just one of those boy things that is incomprehensible to women. Sorry that she’d wasted a moment of concern over either of them, she stood up.
“You can bandage your own wounds,” she said, glaring at Tarik, who had blood running from the corner of his mouth.
As she walked back up the stairs and into the house, she could hear the laughter of the two men, and when the door slammed behind her, Kady grimaced. Men! she thought and started looking for the kitchen.
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