by Aimée Thurlo
“It might be nice.”
“I’ll wait until you’re sure.” Travis started walking in the direction they’d just come from, obviously toward the abandoned carryall, without even looking back to make sure she was following.
Although she felt like throwing something at him, she decided to stay cool. The fact was, she was glad he’d found her. She’d missed him, though she would cheerfully have painted her tongue black before admitting that to him. “Why are we going back? The truck won’t do us a bit of good now.”
“I know. I smelled the gasoline that soaked the ground back at the camp where it was parked. A bullet must have struck the tank or cut the fuel line.” He turned around. “That’s why I knew I’d catch up with you sooner or later if I set out double time. After I found the carryall only a few miles down the track, I just headed in the least logical direction until I picked up your tracks.”
In less than ten minutes, they reached the truck via a route much less taxing than before. Travis jumped into the cab, released the hand brake, then climbed down again.
“Why did you say that the course I chose was illogical?”
“I didn’t think you’d let that one get by. Just stop gabbing and give me a hand.” He began to push the carryall.
“For your information, my choice wasn’t illogical. I was trying to avoid you and figured you wouldn’t pick that trail.”
“If I didn’t know you, it might have worked. But I’ve learned how you think. You do exactly the opposite of what anyone of sound mind would expect.”
Realizing it was perhaps better not to pursue the argument right now, she helped him push the damaged truck into the dry wash.
“I want to hide this as best I can, so help me cover it with tumbleweeds and whatever bushes you can find.” Travis stepped back and looked around for suitable brush.
After they’d done their best to disguise the vehicle’s profile, he regarded the results of their work.
As he studied their efforts, she studied him. Travis looked singularly male in the short-sleeved, tan T-shirt that accentuated his muscular chest. Little sparks of fire danced along her spine as he walked around the carryall, all confidence and male power.
“We’ll have to hike the rest of the way, and it’s going to be a long, hot march once the sun comes up.”
As he stood ramrod straight, an air of defiance and arrogance defined him. Fox knew she challenged him in a way few men dared. Yet it made her feel powerfully feminine to know that her strength was a match for his. “Well, if you’re through posturing, then maybe we should get going. It’ll be dawn soon,” she said.
Her words sparked something in him. Emotions she couldn’t define flickered in his eyes for a heartbeat, then he gave her a crooked half-grin.
Fox would have given anything to know exactly what thoughts had prompted his enigmatic smile. It didn’t seem fair that he could read her with such ease, yet half the time she had no idea what he was thinking.
As she thought about it, she suddenly wondered if he’d given her that peculiar smile just to annoy her. Taking the chance that her guess was right, she stepped around him and took the lead. “You can follow me,” she said in a haughty voice. “I’ll set the pace.”
Travis followed her. “Good plan. I’ll be able to watch your...back from here.”
The thought sent a delicious liquid heat coursing through her, making her knees wobbly. She turned and looked at him, feeling terribly self-conscious all of a sudden. “On second thought, you lead. I’d rather watch your back.” She matched his mysterious smile with one of her own.
Fox saw surprise flashing in his eyes. He hadn’t expected that. Suppressing a smile, she waited for him to continue, glad to be “taking up the rear.” That phrase suddenly seemed very appropriate to her, too. Her gaze settled on his strong back, then drifted lower. Travis had world-class buns. The road ahead promised to be far more entertaining than she’d ever expected.
Hours later, well after the sun came up, and after a grueling, seemingly endless hike, he finally stopped, giving them a chance to rest. Fox was exhausted, but she never complained.
Opening the water bottle she’d been carrying, Fox offered him a drink. He took a deep swallow, then handed it back to her.
As she pressed her mouth to where his lips had been, a thrill shot through her. Surrounded by danger, with no guarantees on their safety, she felt vulnerable, yet exhilarated.
“I know things look bad right now, Fox, but sooner or later, you will have the answers you want.”
“And then I’ll have to face whatever the truth holds. I have a feeling that may prove to be the biggest challenge yet,” she said thoughtfully.
“It’s very possible that what you learn may hurt you deeply,” he said, regret heavy in his tone. “But, eventually, you’ll go on.”
“Like you? You never really got over your parents’ deaths. I’ve always known that. And you’re one of the strongest people I know.”
“I’m not strong,” Travis said, his voice a whisper in the wind. “I’m just a survivor, and that means learning to take life as it comes.” He lapsed into a silence, then added, “The toughest part about my parents’ deaths was that I never got the chance to say goodbye. There were so many things I would have liked to say to them, had I had the chance.”
“It’s been the same for me,” Fox replied. “Both times.”
“That may be the one thing that will haunt you as the years go by. But the pain you’re feeling now will go away. Eventually, you’ll stop looking back quite so often. Everything—good and bad—eventually fades away.”
“You’re wrong. Some good things last and last. Look at Mom and Dad. They loved each other and depended on one another to the very end.”
“That’s what you want for yourself, isn’t it? A rock-solid relationship like theirs?”
“Well, of course! Doesn’t everyone, sooner or later?”
“It doesn’t work that way for some people, Fox. Love takes an awful lot of trust, and some say it’s nothing more than a fantasy people try to make real. The Johnsons came from a different time, when life was simpler. Even a generation ago, the lines that defined expectations and responsibilities for a man and a woman were a lot clearer.”
“And you like having those well-established boundaries,” she finished for him. “That’s why you joined the military.”
“The military is the only thing I trust,” he said with a shrug. “No matter where I live or what I’m doing, I know I’m a Ranger. I know what I should demand of myself and what I can expect from the other members of my unit.”
As they continued their journey, his words stayed on her mind. They weren’t as different as he had previously thought. They both wanted to find security and order in a chaotic world. The main difference between them lay in how they chose to pursue their goals.
As time went on, Fox’s legs began to ache, but she did her best to keep her mind off it. The angle of the sun revealed it was almost midday, and the heat was therapeutic. “I still can’t believe Mom and Dad are gone forever. I keep thinking that, any time now, I’ll suddenly wake up and realize that their deaths were only a hideous dream.”
Travis fell into step beside her. “You haven’t accepted it all yet. But when it does hit you, you’ll face it with the same courage you’ve always shown.”
“I’ve never had to show much courage—until now.”
“And look how you’ve held yourself together.”
The admiration in his voice warmed her, but she fought the temptation to bask in that glow. She had to remain self-reliant. That was the only way she’d make it through this—and the aftermath, once Travis was gone. “I’ll finish what I’ve started and find the answers, but after that—”
“You’ll find a new direction. What do you want to do with your life?” he asked. “Have you thought about it much?”
She pondered the question. “I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. I’m good at it. I tutored lots of kids when
I was in school, and I was always able to explain things in a way others could understand.”
“I remember.” He nodded. “Maybe you’ll reopen the Johnsons’ school.”
Fox said nothing. She’d be lying if she’d said she hadn’t thought about it, but it just didn’t feel right. The school had been her mom and dad’s dream and she didn’t have a right to it. Maybe, after the killers were caught... “I can’t make plans for the future—not when my past keeps creeping up behind me, undermining everything I do.”
“I can understand that. But you do have a future, Fox. And it’s filled with endless possibilities. There’s nothing holding you back. In a way, you’re a freer spirit than I’ve ever been.”
“Me? You’ve got to be kidding. I’m about as adventurous as a mouse. I don’t take chances unless my survival depends on it.”
“You do take chances,” he said. “Look at what you did today, leaving me behind. You were determined to go it alone.”
“If I took a chance, it was only because I was certain I was doing the right thing.”
“You couple everything you do with instinct and a sense of loyalty. That’s not a bad thing—though, at times, it’s definitely misguided.”
“I know what’s right for me,” she said, her chin tilting upward stubbornly.
“No, you don’t. But you certainly think you do.”
“You just don’t like it when my ideas aren’t precisely the same as yours,” she countered smoothly.
“You’re lucky that our ideas don’t always coincide. You’re safer that way.” He captured her gaze and held it.
She suppressed the shiver that ran up her spine. “I’m not afraid.” She didn’t flinch or look away.
“You’re playing with fire, Fox,” he warned.
Her mouth went dry. “I’m not in the least afraid of you,” she said, unable to back down, though instinct told her that if there ever had been a time to do just that, this was it.
Recklessly, she leaned against him and brought his mouth down to hers, kissing him like she’d dreamed, but never quite losing herself to the moment. She wanted to show him that she could yield if she chose to, but never without demanding some measure of surrender from him, as well.
Fox put herself and the multitude of feelings spiraling through her into her kiss. Her tongue danced around his. Then, finally, knowing they had to stop, she pushed him back and stepped out of his arms.
“Don’t play with me, Fox,” he told her, his voice husky. “You don’t understand what you’re doing. I’m a man, not a saint.”
Somehow, as usual, he’d managed to miss what she’d been trying to show him. She was a woman now, with needs of her own, but one whose will could match his on almost every level. “There are times, Travis, when I think you’d be lost in your own bathtub without a map and a compass.”
Fox stopped a few feet away from him. “You said you wanted to lead, so go on,” she said in a haughty voice. “I can’t follow, if you’re just standing there.”
“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t sidetracked me,” he muttered, going around her. “You have an incredible gift for muddling a man’s thoughts, woman.”
Chapter Six
They arrived at the Bens’ solitary hogan in the middle of a wide canyon shortly after sundown. The six-sided log house had the traditional smoke hole in the center of the earthen roof, and a single blanket covered the entrance. Travis still couldn’t get the feel and taste of Fox out of his mind. He wanted Fox more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He wanted her beneath him, needing him, crying out his name and helpless with desire. But if he allowed things to go that far, he’d end up hurting her and that was the last thing he wanted to do. No matter how tough she pretended to be, she believed in love and “forever after.” Those were things he could not give her. He would never gamble with his heart. Nothing in life lasted forever, but love took too high of a toll when it finally faded away.
They stopped about fifty yards from the hogan and waited. “I wonder if they’ll see us soon,” Fox said, standing beside Travis.
“They will. Have patience.”
A few minutes later, an elderly woman appeared at the blanket-covered door and waved at them to come inside. As they entered, Travis breathed in the delicious scent of fresh mutton stew. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until that moment.
Philip Ben, a slender gray-haired man with a blue headband, red flannel shirt, and worn jeans, hung up the bridle he’d been cleaning with an oily rag. Lucinda wore a simple cotton dress with a woven yam belt. Her hair was pulled back in a bun. The couple invited them to sit on a sheepskin rug, then sat across from them.
“Are you in trouble?” Lucinda Ben asked, serving them large bowls of stew as if sensing they needed to eat. “It’s not often we have visitors. And none of them ever walk all the way out here anymore.”
Fox explained what had happened to them and why they’d come. “You were among the first friends Mom and Dad made when they arrived on the Reservation. Can you tell us how it was for them back then?”
Lucinda Ben nodded. “I remember those days a lot more clearly than I remember what happened a few days ago.” She paused for a moment, then looked up and continued. “Blue Eyes and Smiles. That’s what we called them.”
Travis nodded, remembering the nicknames the traditionalists had given the Johnsons. Real names were never used because they were said to have power. To use them often would wear them out and deprive their owners of that source of aid in a time of crisis. Of course, to use the names of the dead was even more dangerous because it could summon the chindii.
“They were good neighbors. Blue Eyes would help all of us whenever our pickups broke down,” Philip Ben said.
“They also helped at community events,” Lucinda Ben added. “They even tried to learn our language. Navajo is a difficult language because a lot of the words sound similar. Blue Eyes would make us all laugh when he got words mixed up and ended up saying something a lot different than what he’d meant.”
Philip Ben looked at the ground, lost in thought. “We make it sound happy but, in reality, there were a lot of hardships for all of us back then. There was never enough money. We all worked hard, but if it hadn’t been for our gardens and our sheep, we would have gone hungry.”
“People like Blue Eyes tried to make things better,” Lucinda said. “He wanted to teach and help our people get a real education. I didn’t always agree with his ways, but he was a good man.”
“Do you recall anyone in particular, from off the Reservation, who came to visit them?” Fox asked.
The Bens considered the question for what seemed an eternity before answering. As he waited, Travis ate the stew hungrily. His stomach had felt so empty it almost hurt. He looked at Fox, but she didn’t seem to be anywhere near as hungry as he was. She was still working on her portion.
“Nothing sticks in my mind,” Lucinda said, “except I do remember that, once or twice, some Anglo men in suits came to see them. Blue Eyes and Smiles never spoke about it, so none of us ever asked, but we were curious. I remember people saying that they may have been lawyers because they were dressed up all the time, not just on Sundays.”
“Did Mom ever talk to you about my adoption?” Fox asked.
Lucinda shook her head. “At first I didn’t even know you were adopted but, one day, I overheard her on the phone talking to someone about your adoption papers. I asked her about it, but she told me she didn’t like to discuss it, and asked that I not repeat it to anyone. I did as she asked and I never brought up the subject again.”
“Is there anything specific you remember about her conversation about the adoption papers?” Fox pressed.
“No,” Lucinda replied after a thoughtful pause. “I just got the impression that they’d taken longer to process because there was something unusual about the adoption. But I knew your mother was an honorable woman and I felt she was entitled to her privacy. I figured that if she wanted me to know, she’d tell
me.”
As Fox rubbed her eyes, Travis realized how tired she was. She’d only had a few hours’ sleep last night, and she’d been walking all day. “We’ve had a very long, tiring day. Would it be possible for us to borrow your truck to drive back to Shiprock? We’ll have my brother return it to you tomorrow.”
“You could, but I haven’t been able to get it started in weeks. My old mare won’t be much good to you, either. She can’t go faster than a walk these days. But my son will be by tomorrow sometime, if you want a ride to town,” Philip Ben offered.
“In the meantime, you can stay with us tonight,” Lucinda Ben said, handing them blankets and two sheepskins. “You’ll be safe here.”
Travis glanced around, noting that the hogan had barely enough space for all of them. “We don’t want to intrude. We can sleep outside. We’ve done that many times before.”
“You’ll be safer in here with us,” Lucinda insisted.
Travis knew that to decline her invitation would be taken as an insult. Although he would have preferred to sleep outside, somewhere where he’d have a clear view of the area, he accepted their offer.
“Before I settle down for the night, I’m going to go out and look around. I want to make sure everything is all right,” Travis said.
Philip Ben stood and reached for his rifle. “You’re tired and you may miss something. Let me do this. If anyone has come after you, I’ll know.”
Travis knew the old man was right. This was his country. He knew every inch of the area like the palm of his hand. If something wasn’t right, he’d spot it. “Okay, thanks.”
Lucinda tended the fire, then lay down and soon fell asleep. As the even sound of her breathing filled the hogan, Travis glanced at Fox. “You okay?” he whispered. “I saw the way you kept rubbing your eyes.”
“I’m fine. I’m just tired and my body aches,” she said, rubbing her shoulder with one hand.
He wanted to massage her all over, to touch her until what had started as comfort turned into pleasure. As vivid images filled his mind, blood thundered through his veins. He had to stop doing this to himself. He was going to make himself crazy if he didn’t put a lid on his imagination.