Desert Devil

by Rena McKay

  Thorne efficiently packed the lunch in his backpack and shrugged the metal frame over his shoulders. Water gurgled in the stream that trickled down the canyon, but he added a filled canteen to the pack. With a smile he said Juli would probably have all she could do to make the climb up the trail to Fremont Saddle without any additional weight.

  Juli hesitated. "Is it dangerous?" she asked doubtfully.

  He shook his head negatively. "Not if you use common sense and stay on the trail. Lots of people hike as far as we're going today. Actually, we're just on the edge of the wilderness area. And it definitely can be dangerous back in the interior, off the beaten trails, especially in the hotter, dryer months."

  The edge of the Superstitions was wild enough for her, Juli thought as they started up the well-worn trail, and the view grew more awesome the farther they went. The rocks above the canyon trail were an incredible mixture of the graceful and grotesque. There were spires and turrets, columns and knobs and domes that to her imagination were fairy castles one moment, medieval fortresses the next. Some rocks had the shape of Impressionistic, elongated human figures, forever trapped in stone; others were grotesque distortions of some demon animal world, nightmare figures of a tortured dream. In places one immense boulder balanced atop another, as if some giant had marked his trail with piled rocks.

  Thorne let Juli scramble along by herself, seldom offering a helping hand, though they paused often to rest. The trail crossed and re-crossed the creek, plentiful with running water at this time of year, though Thorne said it dwindled to stagnant pools later on.

  Thorne seemed relaxed, almost jovial, full of interesting little bits of information. He showed Juli a tiny cactus wren's nest tucked right in among the needle-sharp cholla spines, at first glance a dangerously unlikely spot for a nest, but a safe refuge from the tiny bird's enemies. He pointed out how the tall saguaro cactuses, with their twisted arms, looked fat and healthy now because rain had been plentiful this season. In dry times the leathery, pleated skin folded up like an accordion as water was used up.

  "Somewhere I read that you can cut the top off some cactuses and find water inside," Juli said.

  "The barrel cactus," he agreed, pointing out one of the round, stubby plants that fit its name. He laughed.

  "However, some writers make it sound as if all you have to do is cut off the top and dip out buckets of fresh water. Actually, what is inside is just a wet pulp and tastes terrible. But I suppose it could save your life if you were dying of thirst."

  "I'm not dying of thirst, but I certainly could use a drink," Juli admitted.

  Thorne slipped the pack from his back and offered her the canteen. She found drinking from the container awkward, but managed a few sips. Thorne took a long, experienced gulp. He sat on a flat-topped rock and made room for her beside him. "What do you think now about finding a lost gold mine here?" he inquired.

  Juli laughed and shook her head ruefully. "It would be easier to find the proverbial needle in a haystack. Such strange rocks," she murmured. "Almost like strange, sad beings standing there waiting for release."

  Thorne's gaze followed hers to the vertical stones clustered together on the far side of the canyon. "One old Indian legend says that once there was a great flood and the people came to the mountains to escape it. Their god said they would be saved if not a word was spoken until the floodwaters receded. But one person did speak—a squaw, no doubt," he interjected with a teasing smile, "and the entire tribe was turned to stone and you see them there now."

  "I halfway believe it," Juli said tremulously. "It seems like a place where anything could happen. Was it around here that Jason…" Her voice trailed off awkwardly.

  "It was some distance from here where he fell, on the other side of Weaver's Needle," Thorne said quietly.

  "Do you think there is gold here?" Juli asked slowly.

  "In general, most geologists say no, it isn't here. But others say volcanic action could have pushed up a vertical vein of gold-bearing rose quartz, usually called a chimney lode, from deep in the earth. Some big mining companies are supposed to have investigated in the past and decided the area was worthless. I think the theory of most of those who search here is simply that gold is where you find it."

  "But what do you think?" Juli persisted, eyeing his strong, lean profile.

  "I'm no geologist or treasure hunter." He looked at her and grinned, then gazed off toward the mouth of the canyon where desert and barren mountains rolled endlessly to the horizon. His voice was a little husky when he spoke, revealing how much he loved this brutal, yet beautiful, land. "I think the real treasure here is just what you see—the rocks and cactuses and desert and sky and freedom."

  Juli drew her knees up and rested her arms and chin on them. "What is the story of the lost mine? What makes so many people believe so strongly that it is here that they risk their lives searching for it?"

  He leaned back against another rock. "There are so many stories that they become confusing. Some say that the Apaches had gold here—a sacred, hidden cache. A Spanish family from Mexico, the Peraltas, for whom this canyon is named, is reputed to have taken out a fortune in gold in the early 1800s. The Lost Dutchman tale started later on when a man named Jacob Waltz showed up in Phoenix with gold and was thought to come back here to get more whenever his supply ran out. On his deathbed he gave a woman friend and her son instructions on how to find his mine and they spent years searching but never found anything. And a lot of others have searched ever since. There's something about the Superstitions that seems to capture the imagination."

  "But it seems, with all who have looked, that something would have been found if it were really here," Juli mused.

  "There are various theories on that, too. One is that the Indians didn't like whites prowling around their sacred mountains and filled in the pit of the mine. Another is that an earthquake in the late 1800s changed and concealed everything. And another is that if anyone gets too close to finding the treasure, the Dutchman's Curse does him in, of course."

  Juli glanced around, her uneasiness only half-pretended. "I hope the Lost Dutchman doesn't think we're after his gold!"

  "Do you remember that in David's papers there was a schedule showing sunrise times?" Thorne asked suddenly, and Juli nodded. "One of the stories says old Waltz said that on a particular day of the year the first rays of the rising sun shone through a 'window' in a rock and struck his mine."

  "Poor David," Juli murmured. Had he really believed that somewhere in this wild and desolate land he could pinpoint one small area of gold?

  Thorne nodded. "I guess he never heard the other story that says the afternoon sun shines into the mine."

  "You don't believe any of the stories?"

  Thorne hesitated. "No, not really. And yet…" His voice trailed off and he looked toward the saddle at the head of the canyon toward which they were climbing. He stood up and reached for the pack. "I can vouch for the fact that years ago someone took a shot at me when I was poking around La Barge Canyon. As I've said, gold fever does strange things to otherwise sensible people."

  They started off again, passing an older couple with walking sticks gamely plodding up the trail. They met an exuberant group of Boy Scouts returning from an overnight camping outing. As they neared the rim of Fremont Saddle, Juli felt a tingle of excited anticipation. What lay on the other side? She could understand how the frontier explorers kept pushing on, that one more ridge always beckoned with an irresistible pull.

  A surprisingly cool, brisk breeze picked up as they neared the top, and Thorne slipped his arm around Juli's shoulders. They climbed the last few steps together and Juli's breath caught at the vista that lay sprawled before them. It was almost frightening in its desolation, and yet strangely beautiful, too. Dry mountains, craggy rocks, distant walls, and dominating it all the sheer, massive monolith called Weaver's Needle. It rose dark and somber out of the desert valley, rounded at the tip, too thick and bulky really to resemble a needle, but magnific
ent against the sky. It looked as if it had stood there forever and would stand there into eternity, aloof and impregnable. Juli suddenly felt very small and insignificant.

  "It's supposed to be named for Pauline Weaver, the frontier explorer," Thorne explained.

  "A woman?" Juli gasped.

  "No. But it makes you wonder if perhaps he became a he-man explorer to escape the curse of that name, doesn't it?" He laughed. His arm was still draped companionably around her shoulders.

  Juli looked up at him while he went on talking about eating their lunch here or hiking on down into the valley, but she wasn't really hearing. She was studying the strong lines of his face, seeing the character behind the tanned, handsome features, recognizing a warm, companionable side to his nature that had been hidden before. Today he seemed so much less remote than before, so much more reachable, as if the wall that usually surrounded him had crumbled away. Was it just because of her apology—or was there some deeper reason? He turned her to face him and she was conscious again of his powerful maleness, the hard length of his body, the primitively physical feelings, both tantalizing and frightening, that he aroused in her. But now there was something more, something that she was almost more afraid to face.

  Unexpectedly, he tipped her chin up. "You look as if your mind is a million miles away," he chided.

  "No, no I'm listening." Her voice was husky. Perhaps, she thought tremulously, it would be safer if her thoughts were a million miles away, away from what she knew was happening to her. It seemed incredible after the way they had fought and argued and accused each other, and yet she knew it had started from the very first moment she met him. Now she was no longer poised on the precipitous edge of being in love. She had fallen, tumbled with reckless abandon like one of those balancing rocks careening headlong into the canyon. She wondered if he could feel the wild throbbing of her heart, a pounding that had nothing to do with the exertion of the climb.

  "Do you want to hike into the valley?" he repeated. His fingers caressed her chin while his eyes roamed her face.

  Was that all he was asking?

  "Yes," she whispered. And then, more fiercely to herself: Yes, yes to whatever he asked!

  "We should get started, then," he said.

  But neither of them made a move toward the trail sloping steeply into the valley. His hand slid behind her neck, and then almost roughly his fingers tangled in her soft hair, forcing her head back while his other arm molded her body against his. His demanding mouth conquered hers without resistance, the pressure almost painful until a matching passion surged within her and swept away all else. Her arms, seeking to hold him as he was holding her, met the awkward bulk of the backpack and crept instead to caress his thick hair. His mouth moved against hers, commanding, exploring, possessing, dominating her with his strength and virility.

  The piercing cry of some hunting bird shrieked overhead as it searched for prey, and some vague thought in the back of Juli's mind warned her that she might also be prey to a powerful predator. But she ignored the warning and recklessly returned his kiss, a willing victim whose arms and lips demanded more.

  Chapter Seven

  Juli's head rested against Thorne's shoulder as they drove back toward Cholla. Her muscles felt sore and tired, but her mind soared with the joy of the day. They had descended into the valley and eaten their lunch near the base of Weaver's Needle. From beneath, it seemed even more towering and massive, a monumental, indestructible work of nature. They had taken off their shoes, rolled up their pantlegs, and romped in the creek like a couple of children. They splashed each other with water, laughed, and wound up kissing again while the water swirled around their bare legs, its surprising chill unnoticed while the fire of the kiss raged through them. They had stayed as late as they dared, and the sun was a sinking red ball in the west when they finally returned hand in hand to the pickup.

  Now Thorne reached over and lightly caressed the tendrils of soft hair on her temple. "Asleep?" he said softly.

  "Just dozing," Juli murmured, not wanting him to know she found the pillow of his shoulder too exciting for sleep, even in her present state of weariness.

  "We're just coming into Cholla now. Would you like to stop and have dinner somewhere?"

  Juli straightened up. She felt grimy and dirty, her clothes anything but fresh after the day's exertions. "I'm afraid they'd toss me out of any respectable place," she admitted. "I could fix something at the trailer, if you wouldn't mind. Perhaps an omelet and salad?"

  "Sounds great," he said promptly. "I always wanted a girl who knows how to do something more than read a restaurant menu."

  The words echoed rapturously in Juli's ears. I always wanted a girl… As if she might be that very girl he'd always wanted!

  At the trailer Juli excused herself so she could wash up first and get the meal started while he cleaned up. She stripped off the grimy blouse and turned on the hot water in the bathroom. Nothing happened. She twisted and jiggled the faucet doubtfully, then hopefully tried the other faucet. It was equally useless. What in the world was wrong? She remembered there had been only a weak trickle of water that morning, but at the time she had been in too much of a hurry to worry about it. Now there wasn't so much as a drop of water. Reluctantly, she slipped the blouse on again and went out to tell Thorne.

  "I'll go have a look in the pump house," he said promptly. "It's probably just some minor thing."

  "Oh, you don't need to do that," Juli protested. "I know you're tired and its dirty out there and—"

  "And you probably think I'm a company president who doesn't know one end of a pump from the other," he teased. "Someday I'll have to show you the little ranchhouse out in the desert where we lived when I was a boy and milked the cow and fed the chickens." He was already grabbing the flashlight from the kitchen counter and starting outside.

  Juli got the salad greens out of the refrigerator. They were already washed, but her hands felt too grimy to touch them. She went into the bathroom again, but the washcloth was too dry and stiff to have any cleansing effect on her hands. Thorne returned in just a few minutes.

  He set the flashlight back on the counter. "I think it's an electrical problem."

  Juli chewed her lower lip uncertainly. "Something must have happened to the pump when the electricity blinked off and on last night. Or maybe it was something wrong with the pump that made the electricity go off. I don't know anything about electricity or pumps," she added helplessly.

  "The power outage was general," he said briefly.

  Somehow his voice sounded a little less warm and friendly than it had all day, and Juli mentally cursed the uncooperative pump. Of all times for it to fail! This made such an awkward, disappointing end to an otherwise perfect day. She couldn't even offer him a cup of coffee without water to prepare it.

  "I guess I'll have to offer you a raincheck on the meal," she said unhappily.

  He stood there eyeing her, an odd expression on his face. She looked at him uncertainly. Surely he wasn't angry over something that wasn't even her fault, was he? Perhaps he was disappointed, she decided hopefully. She knew she certainly was.

  He stood there a moment longer, lean and rugged and somehow remote again. Then he seemed to come to a decision. "We'll go to my place. Estelle can whip up something for us to eat. Bring your bathing suit and a change of clothes and we'll take a dip before we eat." His tone was crisp and authoritative, the voice of a man accustomed to giving commands and having them obeyed.

  Juli hesitated. She hated the idea of going to bed without so much as a shower to wash the day's grime away, and the thought of a swim was deliriously inviting. But she didn't want Thorne to feel he was somehow obligated to issue this invitation, especially when he seemed so aloof and remote again. "That isn't necessary," she said uneasily. "Besides, it's a little cool for a swim."

  "The pool is heated."

  Still Juli hesitated, but she knew she didn't want the day to end on this oddly uncomfortable note. "I'll take my car so y
ou won't have to drive me back later."

  "Don't be ridiculous," he said. His voice left no room for argument.

  She gathered up a bathing suit, a change of clothing, and a few items to refresh her makeup. At his house he suggested she go on out to the bathhouse and change while he talked to Estelle about something to eat. She did as he suggested, finding the bathhouse as luxurious as everything else about the Taylor estate. She showered away the day's grime before slipping into her bathing suit, ruefully wondering why she always felt more daring when purchasing some items of clothing than when wearing them later. The burgundy-colored suit was one piece, but cut so high on the hip and so low in the back that an almost-indecent amount of skin was exposed. She cracked the bathhouse door open, then hurried across the concrete patio and slid into the pool before Thorne arrived. The evening air was cool and the contrast of the heated pool was almost like slipping into bathwater. It enveloped her with delicious warmth, gliding like a sensuous caress around her legs and waist and breasts.

  The overhead lights were not turned on now. A single tinted light, concealed somewhere on the far side of the pool, illuminated the palm tree from below. Part of the pool curved around one of the huge boulders, making a private little cove on the far end. It could be a tropical island, Juli thought dreamily as she supported herself against the edge of the pool, her legs moving idly in the smooth water. An island paradise for two…

  Suddenly she was aware she was not alone and she glanced swiftly behind her to see Thorne standing there in the shadows.

  "I didn't hear you! How long have you been standing there?"

  "Only a moment." His hands were on his hips, the powerful breadth of his shoulders emphasized by the brevity of the navy trunks stretched across his lean hips. He didn't move, but a flicker of breeze played shadows across the muscles of his chest.

  "Aren't you coming in?" Juli asked, somehow uneasy at the way he just stood there motionless, his face shadowed so he could watch her but she could not see his eyes. She had the strange feeling that he was struggling with something within himself. What? Had he not wanted her to come here? Did he feel uncomfortable with her here in the home everyone said he would soon be sharing with Nicole? That thought brought a sudden, painful lurch to Juli's heart. She hadn't thought about Nicole all day. She had been too wrapped up in the wondrous discovery of her own feelings. She doubted that Thorne had thought about Nicole, either. But that had been while they were away from here, and now they were back.