HIS TENDER TOUCH

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HIS TENDER TOUCH Page 4

by Sharon Mignerey


  "I'd love to see it," Audrey responded, genuinely interested.

  Without saying a word, Mary handed Francie a sheet of paper, which Francie scanned briefly. "Okay, I'm off. If you run into Hawk, tell him I shouldn't be more than a couple of hours." She paused at the doorway. "Oh, and Audrey, it was nice to meet you. If you don't have anything else planned for tonight, why don't you have dinner with us? Say, about six-thirty?"

  The invitation was completely unexpected, and Audrey sensed Mary fairly bristling with disapproval.

  "Thanks," Audrey returned. "That sounds nice. I'd love to." At the moment, she couldn't imagine sharing a meal with Hawk, but Francie's was the sort of hospitality that she'd been expecting.

  "You, too, Gray. You'll show her the way?"

  "Depends," he returned, his tone teasing. "Who's cooking? You or Hawk?"

  "Hawk, of course." She waved. "See you later."

  Thinking that mother and daughter couldn't have been more different, Audrey pushed away her plate and stood up. "It's time for me to get to work." A fraction of Francie's friendliness in Mary or Hawk would have been welcome. Glancing at Gray, Audrey asked, "Have you seen Richard this morning?"

  "Not yet," he responded.

  "Time for me to go find him, then." She paused at the doorway and looked back at Mary. "Breakfast really was delicious. Thank you."

  Mary met her glance for an instant, then nodded.

  Gray found himself following her into the hallway. If he believed his cousin, Hawk and Mary, this woman was up to no good. No woman had ever looked less like a villain, however. Not from the first instant he saw her yesterday.

  "Francie is really Hawk's wife?" Audrey asked as the kitchen door closed behind them. Two people couldn't have been more different.

  "Yep." Gray fell into step beside her. "She helps Mary out when she's not at the clinic in town." At her questioning glance, he added, "She's a nurse. Told me once that it was a good profession to have, following a career army man around. She could always count on a job."

  Audrey shook her head. "Hard to imagine Hawk in the army."

  "No harder than imagining you as an auditor," Gray returned. She was too soft, too pretty and too innocent looking. Her face was an open book, reflecting every nuance of emotion.

  "Really?" She arched a brow. "And just what do auditors look like?"

  "They're squinty eyed and suspicious," he said.

  She narrowed her eyes an instant before grinning. "Maybe that's because I don't usually do audits."

  "What do you usually do, then?"

  "Analysis," she responded. "All the background information to determine if a resort is a good buy or not, if it's being run profitably or not."

  "Sounds boring."

  She grinned. "Sometimes it is. Sometimes I'd chuck it all in to be a chef, preparing fabulous food for appreciative guests."

  "So why don't you?"

  "I don't know how to cook," she responded. "I'm strictly a microwave kind of gal."

  He raised an eyebrow. "And the man in your life thinks that's okay?"

  "Probably not—if there were a man."

  "Ah." He gave her another of his intense glances. "At least the mystery of why you're not suspicious is solved."

  "I'd hate living my life like that."

  The simple statement confirmed her genuine bewilderment and hurt at being so openly disliked. Her behavior had been characterized by unfailing good manners when she had every right to bristle at Hawk last night and at Mary this morning. She had warmed right up to Francie, had been more than willing to meet her halfway despite the way Hawk and Mary had treated her.

  What would it take to see her lose her cool? Gray wondered. If her mission was as simple as she stated, why were Richard and Hawk tied up in knots? Everyone else seemed to think the water rights were being sold, so why didn't she? None of it added up. If she was as innocent as she seemed, she could be in a hell of a lot of trouble.

  If so, she was exactly the kind of woman he couldn't walk away from. Exactly the kind of woman he had sworn to stay away from.

  If he had a lick of sense, he'd go his own way right now and ignore her until she left.

  She turned toward the front of the building, then paused when the hallway ended and split off in different directions.

  "I'll show you where Richard's office is," he said, indicating she should turn right.

  "Sure I can trust you to lead me there?" The teasing note was back in her voice.

  "I warned you."

  She sighed, and her steps slowed. "Yeah, you did. Not trusting anyone, though. I don't have to like it. So what do you think?"

  "About what?"

  The glance she slanted him was filled with disbelief. "Am I here to help Howard sell off the water rights?"

  "Probably." It wasn't the answer he wanted to give her, wasn't even the answer he believed.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and stopped walking, her gaze focused on the courtyard outside.

  "Well, at least I know where I stand. The sooner I get to work, the sooner I can do what I'm paid to do—which will prove all of you wrong, by the way—and go back to Denver." She glanced at him. "I guess I should thank you."

  "For what?" That unfailing courtesy again, and he didn't deserve it.

  She faced him, and ticked off on her fingers. "Bringing in my luggage last night when it was raining. Bringing me dinner. Keeping me out of trouble when Richard and Hawk were talking. Bringing me an extra blanket and building a fire." Her smile slipped. "And warning me I shouldn't trust anyone." She swallowed. "That's quite a lot."

  "It's nothing." And in his mind, it was nothing. He had long ago accepted his own fate—he was a man who could not turn his back on a woman in trouble. Equally, he was a man with a violent past whom no woman should trust.

  "I really would have liked to have heard more about Mary's pueblo, La Huerta."

  "For the right audience, she's quite a storyteller, all right. Old legends and ghost stories. She sees meaning and symbolism in everything. If she's at Francie's tonight, you may have a chance to know her better."

  "Ghost stories? This place has a ghost?" Audrey glanced at him, her eyes wide, looking so much like she had yesterday that his throat closed. Mary had told him the story months ago, but he hadn't really believed it until he had seen for himself.

  "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "There's a particular one about a Comanche woman who lived on the pueblo."

  "What happened to her?"

  "Legend has it that she escaped from one of Kit Carson's camps during the time the Indians call the Scorched Earth. She was accused of stealing."

  "Gold?" Audrey asked.

  He shook his head. "Only white men valued gold. The Indians believe the pueblo's owner gave her a deed that she was to take to Santa Fe. They believe it would have returned the land to them. Except she was captured and then later disappeared."

  "And the deed was never found," Audrey said.

  "No, it never was." He stared down at her. "And now she's seen sometimes when it storms."

  Audrey swallowed. "Does she carry a cradle board?"

  "Yes. How do you know?"

  "I think I saw her last night." Audrey waved toward the outside. "There was a flash of lightning, and she was standing there, looking so real that I spoke to her." She caught his gaze. "Have you seen her?"

  Gray nodded, searching her face. "And she looks enough like you to be your twin."

  "Who looked like whose twin?" came Richard's voice from the end of the hallway.

  Stunned that she might have seen a ghost herself, much less one that looked like her, Audrey turned to face the man striding toward her and Gray.

  Richard still wasn't as she had imagined him.

  His silver hair must have once been dark brown like his eyebrows. His features were smooth and patrician, looking the way royalty should and seldom did. Audrey would bet a month's pay his pressed jeans had a designer label on the back pocket and that his Tony Lama boots had
never been near a horse. She would have pegged him as a manager for one of Howard's more ritzy resorts around Santa Fe or Scottsdale.

  Maybe that had been the source of his bitterness last night, she thought.

  His nearly black eyes fastened on her.

  "Audrey, I presume." The smile he gave her stopped at those dark eyes.

  She offered her hand. "Richard Emmanuel?" she asked lightly, matching his tone.

  He laughed. "Please accept my apologies for not being here last night. I trust you got settled in all right."

  "For being sent to bed without any supper, I did fine," she answered.

  An instant of startled silence followed before he laughed again. "You're joking, of course."

  "Actually not." Audrey's gaze slid to Gray. He didn't look anything like his cousin, even down to the eyes. In the daylight, she could see Gray's eyes were hazel—a shade that absorbed more light than they reflected, a warmer, more inviting color than Richard's. In fact, she much preferred Gray's more rugged, less pretty face to Richard's.

  Abruptly, Gray's warning echoed through her mind. Don't trust anyone … especially not me. But trust him she did, warnings or not.

  With effort, she retrieved her train of thought. "I was saved by a generous and elusive phantom, though, who first brought me dinner and firewood to heat my room."

  "First?" Richard asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Audrey's gaze didn't leave Gray's face. "And an extra blanket later, which I appreciated." She rubbed her arms up and down her arms. "I didn't come prepared for this kind of weather."

  Again Richard laughed. Audrey, to her surprise, found herself disliking it and him, a feeling she hadn't experienced since Mary Lou Jones had teased her about her breasts during gym class in junior high school.

  "Who is ever prepared for spring weather?" Richard asked. Spreading his hands wide, he added, "I'm afraid your trip may have been for nothing, however. The power is still not on, which will make running the computer most difficult."

  Audrey smiled. "I brought my own, Richard. A laptop. And extra battery packs. Even if the electricity stays off a couple of days, I can still get the job done."

  "I'm glad to hear it," Richard said. "You're ready to get to work, then."

  "The sooner the better." She touched Gray's arm. "Thanks for everything."

  "No problem. I'll take a look at your car if you want."

  "I'd appreciate that. Thanks."

  "I'll be by in a few minutes to get your keys," he said.

  She turned around to look at him and smiled.

  He held her attention with another of his intense looks. "I'm going horseback riding later. You're welcome to join me if you like."

  "I haven't ridden in years, but if the weather clears—"

  "Weather or not," Richard interrupted, "my cousin is not the head of the hospitality department. And I'm sure you have too much to do."

  He was right. She did have a lot to do, but darned if she was going to let him dictate her schedule.

  "Riding sounds like fun," she said to Gray. "Just give me a half hour's warning when you're ready."

  "Sure," Gray agreed.

  She wondered what it took to make the man smile. Given her reaction to him, she would probably melt into a puddle at his feet if he did.

  "What's the matter with your car?" Richard asked.

  "I wish I knew."

  "This audit really is a waste of time," he said, unlocking the door to his office. Once inside, he struck a match, lit another of the ever present kerosene lamps and adjusted the wick until it was brighter.

  "Maybe," Audrey murmured, following him into the small room. Heavy drapes were drawn across the window. "You know how Howard is."

  Richard frowned. "Unfortunately." His eyes glittered when he met her gaze. "Just how well do you know Lambert?"

  "Well enough to know that when he says ‘Jump,’ I'd better ask, ‘How high?’" She smiled to take the sting out of her words and expected Richard's expression to lighten somewhat. It did not. "This shouldn't be a big deal, Richard. What I told you on the phone the other day still holds. I've got about three other items on my desk in Denver that are more urgent than this audit. Just point me in the direction of the records for the past three years."

  "Why the hell does he want you to go back three years?" Richard asked.

  "You'll have to ask him."

  Richard scowled. "I'll be away for most of the day," he said. "And don't bother trying to call me on my cell phone," he added, waving toward the old-fashioned black phone on the credenza. "When it rains like this, the service is on and off like a yo-yo."

  "Then I'll have to make do." She assumed Richard's rudeness had nothing to do with her personally, but she didn't like being on the receiving end of it. "You can cooperate with me or not, Richard. It's your choice."

  "Are you laying down all your cards?" he asked. "Or throwing down a gauntlet?"

  "I'm not challenging you, if that's what you're asking. As for laying down my cards, my reason for being here is obvious."

  "Lambert thinks I'm stealing from him."

  "He believes things are not quite right—yes."

  "Spare me the euphemisms!" Richard spat. "He sent you here to make sure I'm not stealing the ranch from him."

  "Are you?" It was the sort of direct, unexpected question that sometimes got to the heart of things quicker than more subtle methods. Stealing? Of course, she had considered that. Stealing the ranch, though, hadn't occurred to her. Odd. How could he steal the ranch?

  Richard snorted, a harsh, vile sound she hadn't expected from a man so good-looking. "You tell the bastard that he made a bargain with me and I've lived up to my end of the agreement."

  "What agreement?" she asked, baffled by his anger.

  Richard waved an arm. "This is half mine. Did you know that? Or at least it will be."

  She shook her head.

  He laughed. "You don't think I would have agreed to manage this place for the measly salary I'm paid without getting something else, do you?" He shook his head. "I've done my part for the last three years, and in another month, it's half mine. Hell will freeze over before he cheats me out of it."

  Richard slapped the middle drawer of the file cabinet. "Everything you want is in here. Tell Lambert one more thing. If he double-crosses me, he'll live to regret it." Four strides carried him around the desk and to the door, where he turned around. "You're not wanted here."

  "I noticed." She replied without breaking eye contact with him, unreasonably hurt at being so actively disliked.

  Richard stormed out of the office. She watched him cross the lobby and disappear down the hallway. She had never seen an agreement that gave Richard half of the ranch. His voice had the conviction of truth, though. If it weren't true, why would he have said the ranch was his? This, on top of Howard's bizarre behavior when he sent her down here. She'd give a lot to be able to talk to her boss, to ask him directly if Richard's claim was true, to find out why he had really sent her here.

  As if in answer to her silent request, the telephone behind her jangled suddenly, the jarring sound making her jump. Audrey turned to the credenza beneath the window and answered the phone.

  "Puma's Lair," she answered, the old-fashioned black telephone receiver feeling heavy in her hand.

  "Where's Rich?" a gruff male voice asked.

  "He's just left the office. Can I take a message?"

  "I'll call back." A click ended the conversation. Audrey hung up, thinking the conversation peculiar. She picked the receiver back up, expecting the phone to again be dead. It wasn't, so she dialed the number for Lambert Enterprises in Denver.

  When the line was answered on the other end, she said, "Hi, Laurie. It's Audrey. Is the boss in?"

  "No, he took off for Scottsdale last night. Said he wouldn't be back until the end of the week."

  "Problems?" Audrey asked, surprised he was not in the office. Before she left for Puma's Lair he had told her he would be in Denver all week.
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  "I don't honestly know," Laurie answered, static blurring her voice. "You know how he gets sometimes."

  "Yeah." Unfortunately, she did. Eccentric, hardheaded, and demanding. Had he not also paid her very well, Audrey would have changed employers years ago. "Thanks, Laurie. I'll give him a call there."

  "Want me to leave a message?"

  "That's probably a good idea in case I miss him. Ask him if there is a written agreement between him and Richard Emmanuel that gives Richard half of Puma's Lair."

  "Got it," Laurie answered.

  When the connection was broken, Audrey called the resort in Scottsdale. The manager's secretary told Audrey that Howard wasn't there, was not expected, in fact.

  Static interrupted the conversation, then the line went dead. Intermittent service, just as Richard had said. Wishing she had brought one of the office's cellular telephones with her, Audrey drummed her fingers on the desk. Where was Howard? Not in the office, and not in Scottsdale. Just like him to be suddenly unavailable when he expected everyone else to be at his beck and call.

  A knock on the wall next to the open door made her look up. Gray stood in the doorway. Her heart gave a little jump of pleasure and anticipation.

  "Hi," she said.

  "I'm here for the keys to your car."

  Fishing them out of her pocket, she said, "You don't know how much I appreciate this." Her fingers brushed Gray's as he took the keys from her. "Thank you."

  "You already thanked me. Let's see what the problem is first. Maybe I can't even fix it."

  "Well, at least you'll be able to help me sound intelligent if I have to call a mechanic. They always make me feel like I'm mentally deficient and emotionally disturbed when I talk to them." She smiled. "And by the time we get done, at least one of those is usually true."

  "You said something earlier about having had car trouble all day?"

  "Yeah." Audrey chuckled ruefully. "I was late last night because I stopped in Fort Garland when I noticed the engine getting hot. Turned out I had a slow leak in the radiator hose, which needed to be fixed. And I was also leaking oil. Evidently, the oil filter didn't get put back on tight the last time I had the oil changed. Then, the last fifty or sixty miles, it didn't have much power, and it sounded funny."

 

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