by Toni Jones
Brian looked to either side of him. He was a big man, but the security guard loomed over him, and had the width to match his height. Grinding his teeth, he glared for a moment longer at Bettina, looked down the hallway toward Karen’s door … then turned on his heel and marched out, tailed by the guard.
• • •
Brian retreated to the shelter of his trailer on the outskirts of Leadville. What he wanted to do — more than anything — was to find Jacob Hunter. To break his face so thoroughly no woman would ever look at him again. Then to break his legs, so he’d never be able to get back on that bicycle of his, either.
Brian spent hours nursing a twelve-pack of Coors, then a bottle of bourbon. He imagined Jacob broken, destroyed, bleeding on the ground in front of him. He relished that image, turning it over and over in his mind as his vision began to blur from the liquor. The drunker he got, the more certain he was that another fight between him and Jacob Hunter would come out differently than the last one, that he’d be the one wiping the sidewalk with Jacob’s face, instead of the other way around. He was just about ready to climb into his truck and peal out of the driveway, to teach Hunter the lesson that was coming to him. Then he passed out in his chair.
In the morning, with a splitting hangover and a sore neck from his night sleeping propped upright, Brian’s confidence was less solid. He couldn’t forget the nightmare of seeing Hunter standing victoriously over him while he felt cold concrete against his cheek and warm blood running into his eyes from the split skin on his brow. It had taken him a week to recover from that fight. He’d sat in his living room, raw steak draped over his matching shiners, dreaming of revenge.
He hadn’t felt certain of his ability to take Hunter down then, either. As much as it sickened him to admit it, he suspected that he might not be able to beat Hunter in a fair fight, man to man.
But he did still have a shot at pulling him down. Something that didn’t involve a direct confrontation.
He was going to find Ariel Hayes. And he was going to dish some dirt on Jacob that would make her skin crawl. A combination of truth and lies. He’d tell her about Karen. Get back at her for betraying him. He’d make the whole Hunter clan sorry for the way they’d discounted him, closed ranks against him. But he wouldn’t stop there. He was willing to perjure himself to bring down Jacob Hunter. He’d tell her that squeaky-clean Jacob had done things Brian knew the uptight bastard wouldn’t have been able to imagine in his wildest dreams.
It didn’t matter if it was true. It just mattered that she believed him. She didn’t even have to believe him. She just had to want a story that would sell magazines.
• • •
When Brian entered the lobby of the Alpenhof Hotel that evening he almost choked. It was the kind of place designed to make a man who’d made little money all his life, who’d lived on the outskirts of society, feel a combination of envy and hate.
Smoothing the emotion from his face, he strolled casually to the reception desk and smiled a charming smile at the young woman behind the desk. She returned his smile warmly.
“Darlin’,” Brian drawled, leaning on his elbows, “I need to find Ariel Hayes. She’s a guest here. We had an appointment yesterday, and I stood her up. I want to apologize. Tell me what room she’s staying in, and I’ll go on up there and do that.”
“Sorry, sir, I can’t tell you her room number,” the receptionist said, batting her eyelashes at him, “but I can call her room and ask if she wants you to come up.”
Brian stifled a twinge of uneasiness. What if she wouldn’t see him? But he answered, “Go ahead and do that. Hope she’s not too mad.” He winked at the pretty girl, who blushed as she picked up the telephone.
As she dialed, the receptionist’s eyes scanned the lobby. To Brian’s surprise, she hung up before the phone could have even rung. Pointing behind Brian’s shoulder, she whispered confidentially, “I’m not supposed to do this. But she’s right over there. You can go ahead and talk to her.”
Brian turned to see where the girl was pointing. To his intense satisfaction, he saw that she’d indicated a stunning redheaded woman in a linen dress and sandals. She was staring at a map, frowning. As he approached, Brian took advantage of her distraction to look her up and down unabashedly. She was hot stuff, all right. Long legs, curvaceous, vivid coloring. Brian imagined how her hair would look hanging down around her naked, pink-tipped breasts, and it almost gave him a hard-on.
“Ariel Hayes?” he asked smoothly.
• • •
Ariel jerked, startled by the nearness of the man she hadn’t noticed approaching. She looked up at him, frowning. She’d had an overwhelming day. One that had started off well, only to get very, very bad. After Jacob had left her room, she’d cried for what seemed like hours. She was certain that her face was splotchy, puffy, that the pain in her eyes was telecasting to everyone who looked at her.
She’d just screwed things up with the one man she’d ever opened to fully … body and mind. She wanted to stay in her hotel room and weep forever. She’d finally decided to go for a drive, try to find that stretch of highway Jacob had taken her to when they’d escaped from the sponsor’s party. Getting somewhere outdoors where she could be all alone, under the sky.
That was what she needed right now. Not chatting up some guy in the hotel lobby. She didn’t know who he was. But she knew she didn’t have the energy to deal with him. She let her gaze drift away and started to walk toward the exit.
“I’m Brian Jenks,” he said in a richly modulated, unctuous voice that Ariel mistrusted. This guy clearly thought he was a charmer. Maybe young girls from small town Colorado would be taken in. But though she was from a small town herself, Ariel had spent too many years in New York City to fall for a smooth presentation. She was a reporter who’d seen it all … or so she’d liked to think. She sighed internally, knowing she wasn’t as hard-boiled as all that. She was barely soft-boiled. She was a runny mess.
“What is it?” she asked warily.
“I was sorry to miss you yesterday,” Brian said, leaning forward. “Maybe we got our signals crossed. I was hoping I could take you out to dinner. I’d like to give you that interview. I have some things to fill you in on … let’s just say I think you’ll find it worth your while. Illuminating, if you will.”
Ariel took a step back, increasing the space between her body and Brian’s to a width she was comfortable with. “I’m sorry,” she said in what she hoped was a neutral tone. “I’m no longer looking for that type of information. The story will probably be canceled. If not, I’ve gotten all the material I need from Jacob himself.”
“And you trust him?” Brian asked, trying to keep his voice even. “Surely you can see he’s got something to hide. And I can tell, you it’s not pretty.”
Ariel shook her head. “I’m really not interested,” she said flatly. “And I have to go. I’m late to meet someone.”
“Oh, really,” Brian said, his eyes narrowing, “like you were late to meet me yesterday? You probably shouldn’t bother showing up at all.”
Ariel frowned. Brian’s tone was suddenly hostile. She hadn’t felt good about wasting his time the day before. But she was quickly growing to dislike him enough that she didn’t care.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to keep our appointment yesterday,” she told him, “but something came up. Something unavoidable. I’m no longer interested in meeting with you. And I do have to leave now. Goodbye, Mr. Jenks.” She turned to walk past him toward the front doors.
Brian reached out and grabbed her arm, hard, as she tried to sweep past him, pulling her around so they were face to face again. Ariel turned white with shock, then flushed red with anger.
“You need to know this,” he told her, not realizing he was yelling, that people were starting to stare. “The world needs to know this. It’s your job to tell them.”
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br /> “Let. Go. Of. Me.” Ariel pulled away, wincing as Brian’s fingers dug into her arm. Her pale skin bruised easily. She was sure he’d leave marks. She didn’t like the idea of having any trace of this man left on her. She found him repellant. And now, quite frightening.
“It’s not my job to publish whatever some lowlife scum decides he wants to see in print. Stop yelling, and leave me alone.” She pulled harder away from him, and Brian jerked her back toward him, so that she stumbled and fell against him, her hair whipping around her face.
“Bitch!” Brian yelled, one hand digging into her arm, the other buried in her hair, pulling her head back painfully. “I’m scum, am I? Your precious Jacob tell you that?” He bent his head to plant a brutal, punishing kiss on Ariel’s unwilling lips.
His mouth never touched hers. A tremendous blow delivered to the side of his head sent him careening to the floor. At the same moment, Ariel was snatched from his grasp and she found herself pulled into Jacob’s familiar embrace.
“Ariel,” Jacob whispered into her ear, holding her tight against him. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
A tight lump formed in her throat as relief washed through her — not just to be freed from Brian’s appalling grasp, but to be safe in Jacob’s arms, when she’d thought he’d never touch her again. She shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine. Just get him out of here.”
• • •
Jacob released Ariel and turned resolutely to Brian, who was staggering unsteadily to his feet. He grabbed him by the collar and dragged him, stumbling, out the front door. Once they were outside, he pulled Brian to his feet, stepped back, and punched him again, in the jaw, as hard as he could. Brian reeled backwards and fell to the pavement, a trickle of blood running from his split lip.
“The first one was for Ariel,” Jacob said grimly. “That one’s for Karen. If I ever see your face again, I won’t stop at two. Don’t come anywhere near me, near Ariel, near anyone in my family. Ever again.” He turned on his heel and walked back into the hotel, leaving Brian Jenks bleeding and stunned on the sidewalk.
When he got back to Ariel, who was still working to calm her breathing, he wrapped his arms around her again. She collapsed gratefully into his arms.
“Jacob,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion, “I’m so sorry I lied to you … so sorry … ”
“Hey there,” Jacob whispered her, burying his lips in her hair, his heart brimming. “Don’t worry. Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re safe.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s go home.”
• • •
Ariel nodded. She expected him to turn her toward the elevators, to take her back to his room or her own. Instead, to her surprise, he put his arm tenderly around her shoulders and led her to the doors of the lobby.
When they exited the hotel, Brian Jenks was gone. The valet had pulled Jacob’s motorcycle up to the curb, leaving the keys in the ignition and the engine running.
“C’mon, love,” Jacob said gently. The tenderness in his voice sent a shiver of disbelieving pleasure down Ariel’s spine. “We’re going home.”
He climbed onto the motorcycle and Ariel straddled the bike after him. Together, they roared off into the night, toward Leadville.
Chapter Fourteen
As Jacob leaned into the curves of the road, Ariel learned with him, surrendering to the rushing wind. They were traveling up and up, to an even higher elevation. The air felt cool on Ariel’s arms. Sometimes the roar of the motorcycle faded out as her ears popped with the pressure.
When their pace began to slacken, she shifted her weight slightly and lifted her head to look around. They were still outside of Leadville. The guardrails were rusted. Cows were grazing on either side of the road, roaming between the stanchions of the power lines. They passed a trailer park, several of the trailers decorated with massive antlers. Mule deer? Elk? She’d like to see an elk. Maybe Jacob could take her into the mountains one day. He must know places people could go to see elk. And big horn sheep! She imaged hiking with him in September, walking beneath a shivering golden dome of aspen leaves as he pointed out the sheep clambering among red boulders.
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
As they rode into Leadville, she thought she’d never seen a place so wildly beautiful and so remote, so ravaged and desolate. She smelled tar, saw torn up earth from mining operations, little shacks no bigger than their propane tanks, and heaps of old, blackened machinery with functions she couldn’t imagine. Jacob Hunter was a living testament to all of it: the good and the bad. This was the town that made him who he was today.
As they entered the center of town, Jacob drove slowly. It was even more like something out of a Wild West movie than Minturn. Ariel craned her neck to gawk at the Tabor Opera House. Ha! Finally. There was her opera house. She wondered if there had been ballets during mining times, when Leadville had enjoyed the silver boom that put so many Colorado towns on the map. Probably not. She imagined spirited burlesque singers: daring women with boots and lacy bustiers, waving feathered fans at crowds of hooting men. She imagined herself in tall leather boots and garters, dancing for Jacob on a spotlit stage. She couldn’t help but giggle.
She wondered if she would ever dance for Jacob. For the first time in years, the idea didn’t cause her pain. There’d been so much frustration and pain knotted up with the very idea of dancing. Now she thought maybe she’d like to whirl around and around, to feel her body moving through a series of unrehearsed, exuberant arabesques.
Silver Dollar Saloon. Masonic Temple. National Mining Hall of Fame. Ariel wanted to explore it all. But not tonight. Jacob turned, and soon the buildings became fewer, more spread out. They were shabbier in appearance, less maintained. The larger buildings seemed abandoned, or at the least, not residential. There was a mixture of private homes, maintained yards, little stretches of brush and grass, industrial blight.
Ariel let her gaze wander up past the housetops. She could see snowcapped mountains in the distance. They were breathtaking. What an odd place to grow up. She decided she loved Leadville.
By the time Jacob pulled into the driveway of a small, neat bungalow, her cheeks were glowing. She hopped off the bike, took off the helmet, and shook out her hair. Jacob sat on the bike, watching her with a strange expression.
“What?” she said, suddenly self-conscious.
“You’re stunning,” he said simply. Ariel couldn’t hold his gaze. The intensity in his golden eyes took away her power of speech. She turned away from him and gazed off at the beauty of the horizon.
“This is stunning,” Ariel said. “All of this. The air. The mountains. They’re covered in snow!”
“Mt. Elbert and Mt. Massive,” said a warm voice. A slight woman with graying blond hair and kind brown eyes had opened the front door of the bungalow. She looked familiar. She looked like Jacob. Ariel could see where he’d gotten his bone structure and his coloring. This woman had to be his mother.
“Mrs. Hunter.” Ariel smiled, extending her hand, but the woman bypassed the hand and instead, she gave Ariel a surprisingly strong hug. She smelled of cinnamon and apples.
“Beth,” she said. “Call me Beth. And you must be Ariel. Jacob, somehow I must have known you were coming tonight.”
Jacob hung his helmet from a handlebar and folded his mother in a bear hug. “You made pie,” he crowed. He looked at Ariel, his face alight with boyish triumph. Seeing him with that boyish glee in his face, his arm around his mother’s shoulders, made Ariel’s eyes fill momentarily with tears.
“It’s a talent I have,” continued Jacob, oblivious to Ariel’s sudden rush of emotion. “I can sense when Mom is baking. If I’m within a thousand miles, I make my way to the house before the pie comes out of the oven. Let me guess … ”
“It came out of the oven five minutes ago,” Beth finished her
son’s sentence and gave him a playful swat as he barreled through the front door.
“Don’t touch,” she called after him. “It has to cool.”
Ariel stood in the little yard, alone with Beth Hunter. She fumbled around for something to say. “Your flowers are beautiful,” she said shyly. “Are those Indian blankets?”
Beth nodded at the bed of cheerful orange flowers. “They are indeed,” she said. She gave Ariel an appraising look. “Jacob told me you were gorgeous,” she said, “but he also told me you were from New York City. I didn’t think a girl from New York City would know the first thing about Colorado flowers.”
Ariel blushed. Jacob had told his mother she was gorgeous? Jacob had talked to his mother about her?
“I’m not from New York City,” she explained. “I’m from upstate. A small town. My mother used to have a beautiful garden. She planted Indian blanket and sunflowers and day lilies and cardinal flowers. All the red and orange flowers. She loved red and orange.”
Maybe Beth noticed that Ariel had used the past tense. Her expression was tender. “Was your mother a redhead too?” she asked.
“Flaming,” exclaimed Ariel. “Worse than me.”
“You make it sound like a case of strep throat.” Beth laughed.
“Spoken like a true school nurse,” said Jacob. He’d emerged from the house. His voice sounded odd. As though he was talking with his mouth full …
“Are you eating my pie?” scolded Beth.
“I’m eating your oatmeal cookies,” said Jacob. “Your pie is safe. Though you did leave it defenseless on the windowsill.”
“I should have electrified it,” muttered Beth, but Ariel could tell she was delighted. Delighted at every word that came out of Jacob’s mouth … filled with her pie, or no. Delighted that he was there.
Ariel hadn’t been around a mother, anyone’s mother, in years. It made her heart ache, but she liked it. She liked Beth Hunter.