by Aimée Thurlo
Marlee followed her. “I guess we all better start locking our doors.”
“I do that anyway. It’s a habit,” she said, fastening the belt of the robe securely.
Gabriel crouched by Lanie’s door, examining the doorknob. “Is it possible you could have forgotten to lock it tonight?”
“No.” Locks were a luxury for her and one she enjoyed using. Privacy was something she’d seldom had as a kid growing up in foster homes. Before she’d gone on the road, her home had been equipped with all kinds of them, ensuring her privacy. Here in Marlee’s, she was sometimes reminded of her days in foster care, because it was a home shared by strangers thrust together by circumstances. The lock on her door had been imperative, a reminder that she’d earned the right to control her environment and future.
Gabriel studied it closely. “I’ve got bad news. There are no signs of forced entry.”
“He was in my room!” Lanie protested.
“I only have one spare key. It’s on a hook in the kitchen.”
He glanced at Marlee. “You always keep the front door unlocked during the day, so it wouldn’t have been difficult for someone to sneak in and take it, or even borrow it long enough to make a copy. The keys are marked clearly.”
Marlee reached up, covering her heart with her hand. “Everything really is changing here. Four Winds has never been a town where locks were needed.”
“It is now,” Gabriel said. “Until things return to normal, you’re going to have to start using the locks.”
“But what if the person still has the key?” She drew in a sharp breath. “I better call Darren Wilson right now. I know it’s late, or early now, I guess, but he owes me a favor. I put him up here for weeks without any charge when he first came to town.”
“Doesn’t he run the feed store?” Lanie asked.
“Yes, but he used to be the town’s locksmith before he opened the store. There wasn’t enough business for a locksmith, but there was need for a feed store.” Marlee made her way slowly down the hall.
“When Darren gets here, ask him to make sure your lock only has one key. Under the circumstances, I don’t think Marlee will mind,” Gabriel said before leaving her room.
Wondering if she’d ever feel safe again, Lanie sat down on the edge of the bed, her fingers curled tightly around the terry-cloth folds of her bathrobe.
TWO HOURS LATER, the new lock was in place and the only key was securely in her hand. The dead bolt was sturdy, and she was certain it would keep anyone out. Lanie checked the bowl inside the linen closet, then returned to her room.
As she slipped off her robe, she heard a faint knock on her door.
“It’s me,” she heard Gabriel whisper.
Lanie slipped her robe back on, unlocked the door and invited him inside. “Did you find out anything useful?”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for her hand and brushing her knuckles against his lips.
The warmth of his kiss raced up her arm, then down her body with devastating effects. She felt dizzy and wonderful, all crazy inside.
“It’s time we talked,” Gabriel murmured, his voice like a smooth, velvety wine. He sat on the edge of the bed, then pulled her down until she sat beside him. “The feelings between us are strong. I can feel your reaction to me whenever I touch you. And you know my reaction, as well.” He unbuttoned his shirt, took her hand and placed it against his heart. “There’s a fire inside me. Every time my heart beats, it calls out to yours.”
Her throat closed, and she could barely draw in a breath. “I’d say we want the same thing.”
Gabriel drew her to him, his kiss hard and possessive. He heard her whimper, and the desire that clawed at him was as sudden as it was fierce. He wanted to push her back onto the bed and make love to her, slowly, tenderly, until there was nothing and no one in her mind but him.
He swore, pulling back away from her. “I won’t seduce you. When we make love, I want you to make love to me, not an illusion.”
“You are no illusion.”
“But the way you see me, as opposed to what I am, may be so far removed from each other that, in essence, I am an illusion. I’ve seen it before. Women are sometimes swept away by the mystique of my heritage. They spin fantasies about Indian warriors and forget that we are just men.” He stood and turned to face her. “I am capable of many things, but not of seeing the light of reality shatter the softness in your eyes when you look at me. Do you dare see me as I am?”
Words lodged in her throat. She took a deep breath and forced herself to speak. “You’re worried about your past, but I’m not the innocent you may think I am. You asked me once why I was on the road, what I was running from. The answer is easy. I’m running from myself.”
Gabriel nodded. “I felt that when we met, and I hoped that you’d someday trust me with your story.”
She walked across the room, moving away from him, needing to draw strength from herself alone. “You know I was a teacher. One day a kid came to me after school. He was having a lot of trouble with one of the gangs. They were trying to recruit him, but he kept putting them off. He knew that once you were in, it was nearly impossible to get out. I couldn’t spend as much time with him as he wanted me to that day, because I had a staff meeting to attend and grades to turn in the next morning. So I told him to hang tough, and that he should talk to one of the counselors, a man who was working with the local police in a gang-prevention program.
“I could tell he was hesitant, scared, so I set up an appointment for him to meet with the counselor the next day. The boy agreed, but he never kept the appointment. Two days later, I heard he’d been killed in a drive-by shooting while walking home.” It wrenched her heart to remember. She stared out the window at some indeterminate spot in the darkness beyond her room, and tried to push back the hurt.
“It wasn’t your fault. The blame lies with those members of the gang who pulled the triggers.” He raised his hand as she turned around and started to protest. “But I do understand guilt, and how it stays with you, eating at your soul, destroying you a little bit at a time.”
Lanie forced herself to meet his gaze. The look in his eyes reflected empathy, not judgment. “You have your own scars, Gabriel. It sounds as though you know the terrible cost of a mistake, too.”
He nodded slowly. “When I was a cop in L.A., I became involved in an armed confrontation involving hostages. I negotiated with the robber and managed to get him to release several people. But then everything fell apart. He saw a member of the SWAT team near the door. He panicked, and so did the remaining woman hostage. She broke free and ran. I jumped in the way, trying to shield the woman, just as the man fired. Two of his bullets struck my bulletproof vest, but the third bullet hit the woman. SWAT members grabbed the perp, but the woman died right there on that sidewalk.
“I was decorated for that incident, but I didn’t feel like a hero. All I could remember was the terror in that woman’s eyes.”
“I could tell you what I’ve told myself, that you’re only human, that everyone fails sometimes and that you have to let go of the past.” She forced back the lump in her throat. “But, you see, I know they’re only words, and it’s up to each of us to work it out.”
“We are two of a kind.” He wrapped his arms around her.
Desire ribboned through her as he kissed her, his tongue dancing with hers. They needed each other. His love for her was as dark and savage as the night, and her body ached with the need to find peace in his arms. Only love could soothe her scarred heart.
Gabriel picked her up, cradling her in his arms, and carried her down the hall. “I want to make love to you in my room, on my bed. If you leave me someday, then I’ll still see you there in my mind when the nights are cold and I’m alone.”
Lanie had never seen his room, but everything there wore his stamp. There were two striking sculptures of a rodeo rider and a wild bronc. A red-and-black Navajo rug covered the floor by the bed. On the dresser, along with a few
personal effects, were two turquoise bear fetishes. The room spoke of his past and his present, and exuded an unmistakable masculinity that engulfed her senses, filling her as he himself would very soon.
“This is where I’ll make love to you, my woman,” he said, placing her gently on his own bed. “I’ve seen you here many times in my mind. But tonight there will be no dreams, just flesh against flesh.”
Lanie would have promised him anything, but he hadn’t burdened her with his own promises, nor had he spoken of love. He had trusted her with himself. And now she would do the same. No words were needed. Neither of them could guarantee tomorrow; it wasn’t theirs to give.
He lay beside her and, pulling her robe apart, rained kisses down her body. She cried out his name, pulling him closer to her. Shudder after shudder racked her body. His mouth was so hot and so wet, his love sweet and savage. Fires danced along her spine as he found the center of her femininity and loved her slowly there.
When she could give no more, he held her, stroking her gently, soothing and calming her before the fires grew hot again. “Sawe, my sweetheart, I need this time with you. I want to become a part of you. Not to conquer you, although I do want your surrender, but to make you remember me always, no matter what the future holds.”
Lanie had thought he hadn’t offered her love because he hadn’t said the words. But the cherished hope he’d just revealed to her spoke of a love as strong as the noonday sun.
He used his mouth to incite her again while he stripped off his own shirt and pants. Years of loneliness vanished as he slid his hand beneath her and eased deep inside her.
Each stroke became a step toward mutual surrender. Pleasure rocked and held them. When she came apart, arching toward him, he drove into her hard. With a final cry of surrender and triumph, he exploded inside her.
As if from a great distance, she heard him murmur, “Mine.”
Her sleep was peaceful that night. There were no dreams…perhaps because they’d already been made real.
GABRIEL WATCHED Lanie sleep as the sun rose outside his window. She looked peaceful now; all the fears that had clouded her mind appeared to be gone.
He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. He would have given anything to be able to linger in bed with her, but it was time for him to go.
He took a quick shower, dried himself, then with a towel around his waist, went back into the room. He saw her eyes open as the door squeaked on its hinges.
“Good morning,” she greeted him with a sleepy smile. “Where are you off to?”
“I need to talk to Lucas before he leaves to make his rounds.”
He watched her sit up, holding the sheet against herself in a futile gesture of modesty. To show her that they needed no more secrets, he pulled his towel off and walked naked to the drawer to retrieve some underwear and a clean pair of jeans.
He could feel her searing gaze on him as he moved. His body grew taut, and desire thundered through him. “Don’t,” he warned. “If you keep doing that, I’m almost certain I won’t be catching up to my brother this morning.”
“Would that be such a tragedy?” she asked.
He drew in a breath, the fire within him growing hotter. His manhood throbbed as he felt her gaze drifting over him intimately. When she dropped the sheet she held, revealing the soft swell of her breasts and her hardened nipples, his resolve faltered.
He took a step toward her, then suddenly a gust of wind slammed against the house. A tumbleweed hit the windowpane hard, and Lanie jumped.
“It’s okay,” he said, looking out. “It’s just the wind. Our people say wind carries news, both good and bad.” Gabriel stood immobile for several seconds, listening, alert to any whisper of danger. “We’re all right for now,” he said at last. “But I have to go.”
“It’s okay. I understand. We both have jobs to take care of,” she said, her voice soft. She grasped the sheet and once more held it against herself like a protective shield.
She’d withdrawn into herself again; he was acutely aware of that. She’d feared love, and after last night she was more vulnerable than ever. They had not spoken of commitments, yet on some level, they both desperately needed them. But the truth was, he didn’t have enough to offer her. Though she’d helped him, his feelings for her couldn’t ease or heal the sorrow that encased her heart. His chest ached with that knowledge as he turned away from her.
Gabriel finished dressing quickly, then walked to the door. “I’ll catch up to you later,” he said before turning to look at her once more.
As their gazes met, he knew that she’d read his thoughts and understood. Without any need for further words, he stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him.
Dawn in New Mexico was a palate of rich earth tones, as if Mother Earth dressed in her finest to greet the sun. For a short time, with Lanie in his arms, he’d found peace, the outer world overwhelmed and conquered by an inner world of pure emotions. But it was a new day, and new realities waited to be challenged.
Lanie was his woman for now, at least, and the problems that had come from the peddler and the accursed bowl directly affected both of them, as well as his town. Somehow he would see this through, both as a man and as the sheriff of Four Winds.
He arrived at Lucas’s a short time later. His brother’s truck, in all its decrepit glory, was parked near the side door. Gabriel’s guess was that Lucas had gotten in late last night and was still sound asleep.
Gabriel smiled. Good, he’d enjoy having some fun at his brother’s expense. He opened the door and walked noiselessly through the house. Lucas, as usual, hadn’t bothered with locks.
Gabriel went to his brother’s room and almost laughed, seeing Lucas half-dressed, face down on the bed
He banged hard on the wall by the headboard. “Police! Against the wall!”
Lucas jumped, slammed his head against the headboard, then seeing who it was, threw an empty soda can at him. “Police harassment. I’m pressing charges.”
“Late night, Shadow?” Gabriel asked, sitting on the edge of his brother’s bed. “Or do you always smell like women’s perfume?”
“That’s incense, Fuzz.” Lucas rolled out of bed, rubbing his neck with one hand.
“You’re no fun this morning. You look like something that’s been spoiled and reheated.”
He gave Gabriel a disgusted look. “I suppose there’s a reason for you to be here?”
“I need to know if there’s any news about Dad’s and Joshua’s whereabouts.”
“No, but the reason I was up until four this morning is because I decided to drive all the way to Naomi Blueyes’s. Remember her?”
Gabriel nodded. “She’s got to be close to one hundred years old. Is she still lucid?”
“Seems that way. She lives near the Hogback in the same hogan her family’s always occupied. The tribe offered her better housing near Shiprock, with all the modern conveniences, but she refuses to move. Naomi says she has everything she needs. She might at that,” he added.
“I know she’s an herbalist, but what’s she got to do with the bowl?”
“Her granddaughter, Nydia, is a cultural anthropologist. Works at the university. Mrs. Blueyes helped her contact people who don’t talk to outsiders, so she doesn’t get all the made-up stuff usually passed along to anthropologists. I figured Nydia might know something, and I’d heard she was there visiting.”
“Did she know about the bowl?”
“Nydia told me of one story she came across while compiling Navajo legends for her doctoral thesis. She never used it, even though Rudolph Harvey, the hataalii Joshua is studying with, told it to her, because she was never able to substantiate it.”
“I’m listening, and I want all the details.”
“According to what Rudolph told her, the bowl was crafted by a very powerful skinwalker. When the skinwalker died, the magic object became contaminated by his chindi. The bowl is said to have great influence over its owner and it can quickly win over the
weak willed. It can also affect others around it. However, if the chindi finds it can’t control the owner of the bowl because that person is too strong, it will try to find a way to kill that person, though it can’t do this directly.”
Gabriel stood up and paced. He hated mysticism. It was an intangible he couldn’t fight openly. “I have to find Rudolph Harvey, the sooner the better.” He told Lucas what their uncle had told them.
Lucas let out a low whistle. “It just keeps getting worse.” He shook his head in exasperation. “Don’t worry, Fuzz. I’ll continue to look, and as word spreads on the rez, others will join the search, too. I’ll do all in my power to help you and your woman.”
This time Gabriel didn’t argue with the designation. His woman, indeed. Lanie was part of him now. He would do anything, including give up his own life, to protect her.
FEELING LONELY now that Gabriel was gone, Lanie walked to her own room and sat on the bed. What had happened between them last night had changed her forever. She knew instinctively that there would never be another man for her, and even if she didn’t stay in Four Winds, Gabriel would always be in her heart.
It was early, but feeling restless, she dressed, then glanced around for a hiding place for the bowl. She walked to the bathroom down the hall, bowl in her hand. The linen closet there seemed the perfect place to stash it. Before placing it behind the towels, Lanie held it for a moment longer, once again surprised by the silky smoothness of its sides and the way it seemed to radiate coolness or heat, depending on what she needed at the moment.
Right now it was pleasantly warm. Lanie rubbed her palms against it, enjoying its texture. Such a beautiful thing. How on earth could it cause so much trouble? Reluctantly she tucked it behind the towels. Beautiful things weren’t much good to anyone if they had to be kept hidden.
As Lanie stepped back out into the hall, Marlee approached.
“Good morning, Lanie. I wonder if you can help me. I told Alma that she could have a look through the boxes of stuff in the garage. I’m tired of not having enough room to move around in there and, as it happens, I need some cash for taxes.”