Restless Wind

by Aimée Thurlo

  Ranger smiled. “That’s what I like about you. This isn’t your thing-constant changes in plans, and never knowing what’s going to happen next-but you adapt quickly.”

  “I don’t have much choice, do I?” she said. They got underway moments later.

  They drove east, off the reservation. Finally Ranger broke the silence between them. “Tell me something, Dana. The challenges we’ve faced, the adventure, does that part appeal to you at all? And will you miss it once it’s over?”

  “No. In that way we’re not at all alike,” she said, guessing what was behind his question. “What has kept me going is the hope that we’ll find justice for our friend.”

  “That’s important to me, too-both personally and as a Navajo. All things in life are connected and when one thing is out of balance, it affects the whole picture. The only way for any of us to find peace is to restore the Hohzo,” he said.

  “I understand the concept,” she said with a nod. “One of my goals has been to learn more about traditional Navajo ways. Inner peace seems to go hand-in-hand with them.”

  Ranger nodded. “My mother was a traditionalist. Through her, I learned that words have power, that an eagle feather, a mountain lion skin, or a bear claw can give whoever carries them the strength of that animal. I keep an eagle fetish with me and feed it pollen to keep it strong. Those beliefs make me a Navajo and keep me centered.”

  She listened, feeling his love for all things Navajo. Defending what he held dear as part of the Brotherhood of Warriors would have come naturally to Ranger.

  His cell phone rang again. Seeing his expression remain neutral, she tried to listen to his side of the conversation and figure out what was going on.

  A minute later he hung up and met her gaze. “The device inside Hastiin Dííl’s hogan was a homemade pipe bomb filled with gunpowder and nails, not another grenade like the one in the medicine hogan. My guess is they didn’t have two. The bomb included a lantern battery and an electrical detonator stolen from a construction site about a month ago.”

  “That means that Trujillo must have been planning his moves for some time-even before he had the names of his future targets,” she pointed out.

  “Since the death of his brother, probably,” he said. “There’s a store down the road not too far from here. I’ll buy some supplies, then we’ll head to higher ground where no one can find us without showing themselves.”

  How lovely it would have been to share a special place with Ranger where no one could find them for days on end… The ringing of Ranger’s cell phone quickly brought her out of her musings.

  Ranger looked at the display and recognized the number. “I’m here, Fire. What’s up?” But the voice that answered wasn’t his brother’s.

  “Who am I speaking to?” the voice on the other end demanded.

  Ranger pulled the truck over to the side of the highway and focused. “You first, pal.”

  “This is FBI Agent Harris.”

  Ranger identified himself immediately. “How did you get the cell phone you’re using, Agent Harris?”

  “It was the last number dialed on one we found beside the body of another murder victim.”

  “Victim? Who?” Fear pried into him like a knife to the gut. But it couldn’t have been his brother. Hunter was too good at what he did. More important, Ranger was sure he would have felt his own twin’s death. He was as linked to Hunter as daylight to the sun.

  “We haven’t ID’d the body yet.”

  “How did he die?” he asked, his voice thick.

  “Sniper took him out with one bullet to the head, apparently. An unidentified witness called in the shooting from a pay phone, and we’re trying to track him down,” Harris said. “When we arrived at the scene, it took a while to find the exact location the perp used to take the shot. Get this-it was five hundred yards away. We found two sets of footprints and vehicle tracks there.”

  “Not many people could have made a shot like that,” Ranger said, his voice sounding detached.

  “I know. That’s our best lead. Trujillo ’s importing talent, either an ex-military marksman, or someone who gets in a lot of practice at the range.”

  “Two sets of prints suggest a military-style sniper team-spotter and shooter,” Ranger said, his voice taut. “Let me know when you’ve identified the body. The cell phone you’ve found, I believe, belongs to my brother, Hunter.”

  “I understand your concern, Blueeyes, and I’ll call you personally when we get more information,” Harris replied, his voice less official now. Then he ended the call.

  Dana saw the beads of sweat that had broken out on Ranger’s forehead despite the cool temperature outside. His knuckles were white, a sign of the death grip he had on the steering wheel.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  Ranger filled her in with short clipped sentences. “But it couldn’t have been my brother. Not many people can guard against a sniper, but my brother would have sensed what was going down. I’m sure of it,” he added for his own benefit.

  “Other explanations are possible, too. For instance, your brother might have been there, and dropped the phone when the shooting took place. With a sniper in place, it’s possible he might not have been able to retrieve it. Or maybe he loaned the phone to the victim and was somewhere else at the time,” she said, her tone hopeful. “Don’t assume anything. Wait until they confirm the victim’s identity.”

  Ranger tried to push back the darkness that surrounded his every thought, but he couldn’t quite do it. If it was true and his brother was dead, his own personal hell was just beginning. “The blood that pumps through my brother’s veins is the same as mine. He and I are linked. I would have felt his death,” he repeated firmly.

  “Hold to that, then,” she said, feeling the edge of desperation that lay behind his words.

  He turned up a dirt track that led to the bosque area around the Animas River, not far east from where it joined up with the San Juan. An area free of development, the beauty here was unspoiled, just as nature had intended. He pulled the truck off the irrigation canal road, and down into the dense undergrowth, then shut off the engine.

  “We need to hang out for a bit. Here, we’ll be out of view and the cell phone will still work. For now, I’d like to stay in contact with Harris.” He stared ahead for a second, then slammed his hand hard against the wheel and cursed.

  She could feel the darkness building inside him. For the first time since they’d met, Ranger needed her. As someone who’d learned how to cling to hope when there seemed no reason to do so, she could help him now. Ranger needed to find his own strength again and she would be his guide.

  “Let’s walk down to the river,” she suggested.

  He nodded. “I know a nice spot against the sandstone hillside, a place where the river has worn a shallow cave into the cliffs. It’s not too far. It’s deep in the bosque and between two bluffs, so the place is secluded. We should be safe there while we wait.”

  Taking her hand, Ranger led the way through the maze of cottonwoods, willows and grasses. It never ceased to amaze her how someone as tall and broad-shouldered as Ranger could move so silently through thick vegetation like this.

  Later, when they reached the river, he looked in both directions, then led her downstream. Where the cliffs were closest there was a small shelf-a sandbar-that led them into the narrow channel. About fifty feet farther, they came across a small, sandy area along the inside curve of the river. At the base of the cliff was a spot where spring floods had undermined the wall.

  Dana sat down beside him on the sandy earth, but seconds later, he stood and began to pace along the water’s edge.

  “My brother better be out there, alive and well, or there’ll be more blood spilled. I’ll make sure of that.”

  She walked over to where he stood and took his hand. “Concentrate on life. Celebrate it. You’ve always done that by living in the moment. Don’t stop now. Life is a gift and not even a moment of it should be
wasted.”

  Dana pulled him to the ground, sat astride him and slid her arms around his neck, molding herself to him. She would give him the comfort only love could bring-a reminder of life in the midst of death. She could think of nothing greater to give the man she’d fallen in love with.

  As her lips met his, Ranger returned the kiss fiercely, taking what she offered like a dying man struggling for a breath of air.

  She pushed back his shirt and covered his chest with tiny, moist kisses, wanting him. His need pressed intimately against her as her trail of kisses went ever lower down his body. She could feel the fierce pounding of his heart against her palm. She loved touching him and the way his breath sharpened when she caressed him.

  “Slow down,” he whispered, bringing her face up to meet his lips. Ranger kissed her slowly. In contrast to her hurried movements, he was patient, parting her lips easily, deepening their kiss and letting her take a shaky breath before kissing her again. His voice was gentle as he pushed her hips down against him. “Feel me. I’m ready. But you’re not. Not yet.”

  Steadying her between his arms, Ranger undressed her with unbearable patience, letting his fingertips glide along her breasts, then taking them into his mouth, suckling gently, until she cried out his name.

  A whirlwind of emotions ribboned around her. She’d wanted to give comfort but now all she could feel was heat, the searing kind that melted everything in its path. Each nip sent her closer to the brink. Feeling him throbbing beneath her parted legs, she tried to unbuckle his belt, but her fingers were clumsy and her hands shaking.

  “If you have any pity in you, you’ll help me with this thing,” she said, laughing out of sheer frustration.

  His chuckle was a throaty growl that sent its ripples all through her. With one quick twist, he undid his belt, then opened his jeans. “Pull them down,” he ordered.

  Dizzy with needs, she did as he asked because it was exactly what she’d yearned to do. Restraint had covered his body with a sheen of perspiration that accentuated every plane and rise. He was magnificent, his muscled flesh the color of a sunset. She smoothed her hand over him, learning what gave him pleasure.

  When the heat became too intense, he gripped her hands and held them to her sides. “My turn,” he growled.

  He tasted and loved the milky-white softness of her skin, then cupped her intimately, parting the velvety folds, and feeling the moist heat there. When he pressed into her, he could feel everything feminine in her welcoming the intrusion. She strained into him, moaning, and that anguished cry of pure need fueled his own.

  Capturing her cries with his mouth, he caressed the center of her womanhood, slowly driving her wild in his arms.

  “I can’t…”

  “Yes, you can. Don’t hold back.”

  His hands were rough and demanding, then tender. Waves of pleasure seared through her until her world came apart in one bright, shining moment. Then, in the safety of his arms, she rested.

  Once her breathing evened, he shifted, positioning her beneath him. Passion stronger than anything he’d ever known gripped him.

  “Look at me,” he demanded and when she did, he gripped her hips and pushed himself into her.

  Seeing herself reflected in the black pools of his eyes, she understood the power of harmony and balance.

  In a frenzy of need and heat, he drove into her. Her cries drove him crazy as did the way her fingers dug into his shoulders, almost to the point of pain. In freedom, and in love, their bodies became one, and he poured himself into her.

  They lay quietly afterward, her arms and legs still entwined around him. She’d known intimacy before, but never like this. She’d felt as delicate as a flower that had come into bloom in the middle of a storm, and yet powerful, too, knowing she’d given a man like Ranger so much pleasure.

  He rolled back, taking her with him, then held her. “You know what’s in my heart now,” he whispered. “At least in this, there are no secrets.”

  Dana ached to hear him speak of love, but when he didn’t, she held back, too. Ranger was a free spirit, and she’d known that from the beginning. He’d given her all of himself and taken what she’d offered freely, but he would never accept being tied down.

  “What I feel for you is real,” Ranger said, sensing her feelings. “But I’ve got nothing else to give you now-no promises or assurances. I haven’t got a future-not until I know what happened to my brother, and we finish what needs to be done.”

  “What we’ve shared is enough,” she whispered. She’d fallen in love and had no regrets. What she’d discovered in his arms would be a part of her forever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As they waited for the phone to ring, time passed slowly. Not knowing about his brother’s fate was eating Ranger up inside. Waiting was the worst of it, too-trying to hold on to his sanity while being torn between hope and fear.

  “Let’s go to the police station in Shiprock,” she suggested, standing up and walking out toward the river’s edge. “They’ll get the news there first.”

  He shook his head. “Too dangerous. There’s only one practical route there, and we could easily pick up a tail. We’ve kept ahead of them so far by going places no one expects us to be.” He stood and joined her. “But let’s hike back to the truck. This isn’t a good place to be once it’s dark. We can’t see around us beyond the cliffs, and if anyone’s tracked us, the rushing water will cover the sound of their approach.”

  “Where else can we go?”

  “I know of another place. We’ll be safe there, and it’ll give me a chance to figure out who I can use as our contact now.”

  “Your brother was the one you were calling, and who’d been contacting you?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “Okay, so where’s this new place?”

  “It’s not a place as much as a location up in the mountains. That’s where I was originally headed when Harris called. We’ll be able to spot any vehicle from miles away. And if they come on foot, it’ll take them hours to reach us.”

  “Will you get phone service there?” she asked.

  “It won’t be as reliable as it is here but, yeah, I think so.”

  “Considering you’re waiting for news, are you sure that’s worth it?”

  “It’s the only place I’m sure we can be safe tonight,” he answered.

  They drove south from Farmington for almost an hour and a half, reaching the reservation community of Crown-point. Then they turned south down graveled roads, heading southwest into the mountains around the Continental Divide. Twice, he was sure they’d picked up a tail, but after a circuitous route along dirt roads, he couldn’t see any signs of a vehicle tailing them.

  “Keep an eye out for a tail,” he said.

  “I have been, but no one’s stuck with us.”

  At long last, they came upon a big rockslide that covered many acres along the flank of a mountain. At first Dana thought it might have been an old mine site. But a closer look revealed no roads, buildings or machinery, and the stones all seemed to have originated from the cliffs above. Soon they topped a ridge that jutted out of the mountainside like a shoulder, and the road finally leveled off.

  The ridge joined with the rocky cliff. Small caves and crevices dotted the mountain side opposite the slope, and only a few trees and shrubs were tenacious enough to hug the thin soil at this elevation.

  Ranger pulled up as close to the cliff as possible, then turned the pickup sideways to the mountain, coming to rest between a grove of pines and the rock wall. They’d be hidden from anyone coming up the mountain, at least until they got very close.

  “We’ll camp here for the night. It’s safer than anywhere else I can think of,” he said, “and any approaching vehicles will make quite a bit of noise coming across that rubble below.”

  Dana got out of the truck and looked around, taking a deep breath. The view below them in the reddish, late-afternoon sun was beautiful, with the desert valley spread out for many mil
es to the north, and the Chuska Mountains to the west. It felt as if they were sitting on top of the world.

  “My cell phone is operable up here, thanks to all the mining operations just to the south,” he said, after checking to verify.

  As Dana drew closer to the edge of the cliff, she got a glimpse of a rare sight. “There’s an eagle’s nest up here,” she whispered quickly. “Maybe we should move back down the mountain a little. I’d hate to disturb it.”

  As Ranger looked down at the eagle perched on her nest, his voice rose in a soft chant that seemed to warm the cold breeze. It was a haunting song that reverberated with power and mystery.

  The eagle didn’t move, and Ranger smiled. “Her children have already left the nest and are on their own. The eagle knows it has nothing to fear from us. She’ll be our eyes, and if anyone tries to come after us, she’ll let us know.”

  As Dana looked at the eagle the huge raptor stirred in her nest, but didn’t fly away. Moving back slowly, Dana gazed at Ranger. “It’s almost like you have a connection with her. I can’t believe she’s so calm.”

  He reached into the jish he carried on his belt and brought out an eagle fetish carved of stone. “The eagle and I are linked spiritually.”

  It fit him-that boundless love of freedom, the ability to survive despite the odds. “You’re two of a kind,” she said at last.

  Dana zipped up her jacket, and rubbed her arms for warmth. The altitude, the breeze and the fact that it was November promised a cold night.

  “Come here,” he whispered, opening his jacket, then pulling her against his own body. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  As he held her, they watched the eagle fly off, spin and turn gracefully in the air, swoop down, then return to her old nest, her dinner clutched in powerful talons.

  “Graceful, isn’t she? She can gauge the currents and soar above them effortlessly,” he said.