California Girl

by Rice, Patricia

  Clinging to a rope, she glanced over the side, locating a highway with cars. She searched the shadows closer to the balloon and saw a racing vehicle. “How do we know that isn’t Salvador down there?”

  “Do they have a flatbed for the balloon?”

  “A trailer of some sort,” she agreed, watching the car slow to check their position. “There’s a small road and lots of cactus.”

  He snorted. “We’ll survive cactus.” He pulled the vent cord some more so the balloon descended in the direction she pointed. “If they have a trailer, they’re crew. I don’t think Salvador would be so considerate.”

  She didn’t want to land. She wanted to sail off into this fantasyland they’d created. But Elliot and Mame needed her right now, and she threw him a big smile to show it would be all right. “Maybe I could be a balloon pilot!”

  “That works.” His dry tone returned to the familiar as he gauged his distance to the approaching ground.

  Alys laughed. She could do this. She could give him laughter and help him through whatever lay ahead. She knew how to make the best of every minute she was given without wondering what the next would hold. She could teach Elliot to do the same.

  “I love the way your chin tilts up when you laugh.” He leaned over and kissed her before returning his attention to the controls.

  See, she’d done it right, given him what he needed while hiding her breaking heart.

  Minutes later, the slowly deflating balloon bumped the basket along the rocky ground. Alys watched in awe as the crew worked in coordination with Elliot, grabbing the wicker to hold it down, rushing to spread a tarp across the cactus-studded ground, catching guide wires to pull the balloon toward the tarp while Elliot opened the valve at the top of the balloon all the way, releasing the hot air into the cold night.

  The magnificent maroon-and-gold envelope slowly collapsed over the tarp, and after a few bounces, the basket stood still.

  Before leaping out as she fully expected him to do, Elliot stopped to caress her cheek. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t give her time to ask for what. He jumped out and held his arms out to her while men yelled and ran about, pushing the remaining air from the envelope. As deflated as the balloon, Alys stepped from the gondola, back into the real world.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “She’s stabilized for the moment,” Elliot informed the doctor entering Mame’s room on night rounds.

  Holding Mame’s frail hand between hers, Alys watched Elliot pace while the admitting physician checked Mame’s vital signs, noted her chart, and with a nod to Elliot, returned to his rounds.

  Elliot was in full doctor mode, wearing his sports coat and a black T-shirt someone had given him, checking the IV, reading charts. The nurse didn’t dare shoo Alys or Jock out, for fear the formidable Doc Roth would bark at her.

  “They’ve given her medicine to help her sleep. You can’t do anything here, Jock.” Elliot stopped beside the other man’s chair. “Get some rest. You have a race in the morning, don’t you?”

  Jock looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week, although they’d only been here a few hours. Empty styrofoam coffee cups littered the table beside his chair. His complexion was nearly as gray as his beard, but he’d watched Mame’s lined face with care since they’d arrived.

  He shook his shaggy head. “The crew can take over without me. I’d feel better if I stayed here. I’ve been waiting for this woman to come around for a long time. I’ll not leave her now.”

  “Mame needs his positive energy,” Alys argued at signs of Elliot rejecting Jock’s offer. “Perhaps we ought to assign shifts so someone is with her all the time.”

  Mame’s pellet wounds weren’t serious. The damage to her heart from the second attack might be irreparable. Alys had clung to the hard seat of her hospital chair for hours, her knuckles white from the strain of fighting a panic attack. As usual, the hospital environment made it impossible to find her center, until she realized Elliot was her center. After that, her hysteria subsided, and she’d fixed on him, letting his energy flow through her and into Mame. She was worried now, but calm.

  Elliot glanced at her. His long face was lined with concern, his dark eyes shuttered against the pain of watching Mame lying there so still. Alys knew him well enough to know what he was thinking. It was tough for him to admit that he couldn’t change anything by his presence, that Mame had to come around on her own.

  He checked his watch. It was past midnight. Alys knew they couldn’t do anything at this hour except watch Mame breathe. If Jock was willing to stay, she needed to get Elliot out of here, give him time to rest before whatever tomorrow wrought.

  To her relief, Elliot nodded. “That sounds good. Jock, if you can stay until dawn, I’ll come back then. I’ll ask the nurse to bring some blankets and pillows for you.”

  The frown on Jock’s forehead relaxed, and he stood to shake Elliot’s hand. “Mame’s spent a lot of years worrying about you boys, waiting until the lot of you were old enough to stand on your own before changing her life around. I didn’t think she ever meant to let go, but I can see the effort was worth it. She raised you right. I’ll call the hotel if anything changes.”

  Exhausted, relieved, and scared, Alys let Elliot take charge. Mame would want her to look after Elliot. If there was any chance he could end up on a hospital bed looking like Mame, she had to prevent it.

  On the way out, they stopped to speak with the policeman in the corridor. He looked as weary as Alys felt.

  “You won’t be able to get a statement from my aunt until tomorrow, I’m sorry,” Elliot told the man. “She has to have complete rest. Are Dulce and Lucia safe?”

  The cop nodded and tucked his notebook away. “The tribal police were watching out for them. The guys in the semis thought they were rescuing their boss’s kidnapped kid. They watch way too many movies and got carried away playing hero. Once they found out the kid was happy and with her family on the reservation, they cooled down. The jerk who shot at the balloon is a hothead with prior convictions for firearm violations, but he wants to apologize. We told him to get a lawyer.”

  “Did they mention why there was a positioning device in a kid’s camera?” Elliot asked, wearily draping his arm over Alys’s shoulders.

  The cop shrugged. “Mendoza figured her family would come after her sooner or later. He was prepared. His lawyers are already burning up phone lines keeping him out of jail.”

  Alys clung to the comfort of Elliot’s embrace and wondered if she should feel joy that Lucia was safe or feel sorrow that her grandfather was such a pitiful man. She was too tired to reason it out. Thanking the policeman, staying at Elliot’s side, she dragged her feet toward the elevator. She was too exhausted to even feel relief that they were leaving the confines she so dreaded. Her arm throbbed where they’d stitched it in the emergency room. She probably ought to take the painkillers she’d been given, but she’d wanted to stay alert for Mame’s sake. And Elliot’s.

  “Come on, we’ll put you to bed. I know you’re tired when you’re not bouncing.” Squeezing her shoulders, Elliot led her downstairs.

  To their surprise, several groups waited in the lobby, huddled over coffee or stepping outside the door for a smoke. At their appearance, everyone converged on them with questions about Mame.

  Milo and his friends presented Alys with a slightly drooping calla lily for Mame’s room. Accepting the plant, she hugged them all.

  With black eyes and split lips, looking as rough as the bikers, several of the truck drivers hung back and waited for their turn. Both groups had apparently settled their differences over a few beers, if Alys was any judge of breaths, but she didn’t know their faces, just their expressions. When one of the truckers tentatively stepped forward and Elliot tried to pull her away, she shook off his protective gesture to meet the man halfway.

  “The guys wanted you to know we’re real sorry for scaring you like that.” He looked guiltily at Alys’s wounded arm. “And we’re even sorr
ier about the lady getting hurt. Mackie’s kinda nuts, carrying that old shotgun everywhere he goes. It went off half-cocked. The cops have him downtown. None of the rest of us carried weapons. We were just . . . We thought…”

  “We know.” Alys held out her hand to him. “You were looking after Lucia, just as we were. We don’t blame you for the confusion.”

  The driver shook her hand, then glanced warily over her shoulder at Elliot. “You pack a mean right,” he said, as if that smoothed the waters. “There was three of us and only one of you at that hotel. I don’t want to be on your wrong side.”

  “Did I tell you how Alys can break boards with her bare hands?” Milo interrupted, boastingly. “Look at that tiny thing! You guys didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Karate? You know karate? Hell, if you two ever want to hire out as drivers . . . I don’t think Hank is ever gonna live down the way you bluffed him out and got away.”

  Alys heard Elliot chuckle and relaxed. She sent him a knowing glare over her shoulder, but he just squeezed her shoulder.

  Leaving the drivers and bikers to discuss fights they’d shared, she followed Elliot over to the balloon crew waiting anxiously for some word of Mame. They’d known her only a few days, but she was already a friend.

  After Elliot reassured them that all was well for the moment, one of the men handed Elliot a ring of keys. “We had the tires replaced. Thought Mame might be needing these.”

  The Taurus was still at the hotel. The keys must be to the SUV that Mame had stolen from Elliot. Alys watched with sinking heart as Elliot clasped the keys to freedom in his hand.

  “Give me the invoice and I’ll pay you back,” he told them. “I can’t thank you enough for looking after my aunt for me.”

  Alys didn’t listen to the exchange of pleasantries after that but drifted to the plate-glass window overlooking the parking lot. Against the black night, all she could see was her reflection. Had she been fooling herself into thinking she’d be needed here?

  Elliot came up behind her. She could see the weariness in his reflection, but he merely put his arm around her and steered her toward the parking lot where the crew had said the Rover was located.

  They drove back to the hotel with only the mechanical voice of the SUV’s computer guidance system breaking the silence. Alys watched Elliot’s profile in the pale light of passing street lamps. Self-sufficient and contained, he didn’t need her help through the empty streets, just as he’d traveled through life alone without her.

  He was probably already regretting the bonds they’d shared. She knew what happened between them wasn’t her imagination. She felt things. And what she was feeling now was scary. She might believe Elliot needed her, but he’d lived on his own for a very long time. He might not hold the same belief.

  It wasn’t until they were in the hotel elevator that Alys realized they had two rooms at their disposal now. Mame wouldn’t need hers.

  “I didn’t look for Mame’s keys,” Elliot said, as if hearing her thoughts. “Do I need to go down to the desk and ask for a copy?”

  “No.” She might not know what she wanted of the future, but she knew what she wanted tonight.

  “Good.” He sounded relieved as he opened the door to their room.

  The king-sized bed beckoned. Alys didn’t think she could even manage a shower. Elliot decided the matter for her. Leaning down, he kissed her. When she responded with every ounce of energy left in her, he swept her off her feet and carried her to bed. Jerking back the covers, he lay her fully clothed upon the sheets.

  “You need rest,” he said gruffly. “You’ve lost blood.”

  “Not to mention a year of my life in sheer fright.” Not really agreeing with him, Alys lifted her good arm to tug him down with her. “Tonight doesn’t count for much in the scheme of things.”

  Apparently willing to agree, Elliot climbed in beside her. He propped himself up on one arm and leaned over her. Alys traced the scar beside his mouth with her fingertips, then traced his lips. She was terrified of what the future held. She couldn’t bear to lose Elliot. She saw so much compassion and knowledge in his eyes—all trapped inside him and looking for a way out.

  He kissed her eyelids closed. “You should rest.”

  “I won’t.” She slid her palms over the soft cotton of the black T-shirt, then tugged at the sleeves of his jacket.

  He shrugged the coat off, lay down, and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll hold you until you go to sleep.”

  “If you think I’ll go to sleep like this, you don’t know me well.” She rested her head on his wide shoulder and slid her hands over his chest and towards his waistband. She knew what he needed because she needed it, too.

  Elliot buried his face in her hair and didn’t stop her. “I think I might burst if I don’t have you right now,” he murmured. “I just didn’t want you to think I expected it.”

  She smiled and worked on his belt buckle. “I know how to say no when I want to. We nearly died today. I think a little life is called for.”

  Wordlessly, Elliot pulled off her turtleneck and her sweatshirt at the same time. He kissed the curve of her breast over her bra, then unfastened the bra. “Holding you warm and naked reassures me you’re alive. If you’re tired—”

  “I’m not dead yet. I’d have to be not to want you.” There, she’d said it. Sort of. He could make of it what he would. She conquered his belt and started on his zipper.

  Elliot rolled her over, crushing her wandering hands between them, leaning over to take her nipple into his mouth.

  Yes! she screamed inside her head as pleasure coursed through her, feeding her strength. Freeing her trapped hands, she ran them through Elliot’s unruly curls.

  He tugged her hips free of her jeans and panties. She wiggled them the rest of the way off while he discarded his shirt, trousers, and shorts. Knowing each other’s desires well, they merged with a primitive cry of need, seeking oblivion and sinking into it with the fierce mating of their bodies.

  Coming together, awash with the pleasure of satiation afterward, they collapsed in each other’s arms. Alys didn’t need the pain medication to ease the throbbing in her arm. Elliot’s proximity eased her and sex had sedated her. She was asleep in minutes.

  Elliot stayed awake long after, holding Alys against his chest, stroking her sleek hair, memorizing every moment before the dawn.

  He’d always had one focus until now. Alys had taught him how narrow-minded that focus was. Now that he had a wider one, he had to resist the urge to assume what he wanted was right for everyone. He needed to let those he loved make their own decisions. He didn’t know if he could change, but he had to try.

  The first step would hurt the worst.

  * * *

  Chilled, Alys sought the warmth of Elliot’s body that she’d come to expect beside her. Funny, how a person could get used to the closeness so easily. It was as if she’d spent these last few years frozen in a block of ice, and now she craved heat.

  He wasn’t where she remembered him, but the bed was big. Sleepily, she rolled over the other way, patting the sheets. They were cold.

  The exhaustion of yesterday’s terror and loss of blood made her groggy. Her arm hurt. She should take an aspirin at least, but her eyes wouldn’t open. She dozed off again.

  She woke to the noise of a vacuum cleaner in the hall outside. Shoot. The maid would be knocking on the door, and she wasn’t wearing anything.

  She pried open one eyelid. Sunlight gleamed through the crack between the room-darkening curtains. What time was it anyway? Elliot had said something about taking Jock’s place at dawn.

  She turned over and found the clock. Almost noon! She really had been wiped. She knew the bed was empty before she sat up. Elliot had gone to the hospital without her.

  But they had two cars now. She could drive the Taurus over and take a turn at Mame’s side. Mame! She needed to check to see how she was doing. Elliot should have called to tell her how Mame was and what the doctors had de
cided.

  The vacuum whined outside the door. Wrapping a sheet around her, Alys stumbled from the bed and looked for the DO NOT DISTURB sign. It wasn’t there. Elliot must have hung it out for her, bless his heart.

  Okay, next, find hospital number. She splashed some water in her face, took an aspirin, and dug out the phone book. The hospital listing was half a page long, but she decided on the admissions number and punched it into the phone.

  Adjusting the sheet, she waited for an answer, gave Mame’s name, and waited for them to transfer the call.

  After a brief interval, the clerk returned to the phone. “Mrs. Emerson was transferred out this morning.”

  Transferred out? Alys frowned, verified they were talking about the same Mrs. Emerson, obtained no further information from the busy clerk, and hung up.

  A pocket of terror formed in her heart.

  She glanced around the darkened room as she hadn’t earlier.

  Elliot’s suitcase was gone.

  In disbelief, she staggered out of the huge bed they’d just shared last night. His suitcase had been right there, neatly fitting on the dresser. The trousers and shirt he’d discarded on the floor last night were gone. His toiletries case had vanished from the vanity.

  He’d left without her.

  Panic raised goosebumps up and down her arms. How could he do that? She was a reasonable person. He could have at least said some kind of polite farewell. She would have understood.

  Had Mame taken a turn for the worse?

  Frantically, she snapped on a desk light, wondering if she dared try Elliot’s cell phone. The thought of getting his voice mail caused a lump in her throat.

  A piece of hotel stationery covered in Elliot’s precise handwriting waited in the puddle of lamplight, held in place by the orchid she’d left sitting on the windowsill.

  Snatching the note from the desk, she read while she lowered herself into the chair. Her hand began to shake, and angrily, she fought back tears.

  She wouldn’t let him do this to her. She glanced at the car keys lying on the desk. Damn him! That was the same as paying for her services. She wanted to ram them down his throat. The despicable bastard! Who did he think he was, taking charge of the world again?