Shadows and Ruins

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Shadows and Ruins Page 17

by Denise A. Agnew


  retort, to keep him at a distance one way or another. Instead, she caught the teasing

  glint in his eyes, and the bright smile that parted his lips. Quickly she turned around,

  certain he could see trepidation and arousal as it pulsed through her.

  "You could have ridden another horse," she said.

  "Safety precaution. Animals can sense when people are nervous, and sometimes it

  can make them jittery." He gently nudged the horse's sides with a coax from his heels,

  and the big animal trundled out of the barn. "Don't worry. Old Sally here wouldn't hurt

  a fly."

  Emma heard a bark, and looked down at Charlie. The playful dog trotted along

  beside the horse. Part of her wished she walked with the dog. At least the ground

  wouldn't be so far away. She also wouldn't have to endure the exquisite sensation of

  Shane's powerfully muscled arm around her and the steel of his body behind her.

  As they moved away from the house and outbuildings, tension tightened her

  shoulders. She recalled the way his lips had caressed hers with a warmth that had

  disrupted any ideas she'd harbored that he was a cold, unfeeling man.

  He had feelings all right, but the glimpse she'd had into his temper left her shaky,

  on the edge. The force of his passion disturbed and overwhelmed her. Tasting his kiss

  had been a glimpse of sweetness, desire and something powerful she'd never enjoyed

  before.

  Yesterday she'd learned many things about Shane O'Donnell, but she didn't like the

  unanswered questions. Too many things felt unresolved. The excavation, her

  job…where and why Grant had disappeared. So far, no one had seen Grant and foul

  play danced around in her mind as a distinct possibility. The local police had

  questioned her and Shane again that morning before she left the hospital. She tried to

  remember any more details about the attack upon herself, but nothing else would

  emerge. She worried about Grant, although Shane's disturbing proximity kept away

  some of the plaguing thoughts. She felt guilty part of the time about that too.

  As they came to a steep hill, Shane tightened his arm around her, and his hard

  thighs pressed against the outside of hers. An instant, sensual pleasure rippled from her

  thighs into her belly. Her traitorous nipples peaked against her bra.

  God, Emma. The man is just being courteous. Being safety conscious. He doesn't want you

  to fall off the horse. With this admonition in mind, she took in a deep breath of the clean

  air that brushed hot and dry against her skin.

  Yeah, but he admitted that he has a difficult time keeping his hands off me. The thought

  made her smile and caused her belly to swirl with desire.

  The sun rose high overhead, and she was thankful for her baseball cap and the

  amount of sunscreen she'd lathered on her skin. A light breeze pushed dirt along the

  ground, swirling it into tiny dust devils.

  She reached into her shirt pocket for her sunglasses and plopped them on her nose.

  "Where are we going?"

  "Buzzard Ridge."

  At the mention of the name, suspicion reared its proverbial head. "Officer Reddins

  mentioned that some Anasazi artifacts were found on Buzzard Ridge and that they

  were stolen from a museum."

  "That's true."

  "Your property seems to regularly produce a lot of archaeologically significant

  material." She kept her tone light.

  "This is the Southwest. Why does it surprise you? You're an archaeologist."

  "It doesn't surprise me. Just stating a fact."

  Press a little harder, Emma. If you don't he'll clam up again, like he always seems to do

  when you get close to something he doesn't want you to know. "Were you here when the

  artifacts were found?"

  "My father was still alive. He allowed an archaeological team from Wyoming to

  come in and dig." His arm tightened around her slightly. "I was working construction."

  She easily pictured him in a hard hat, standing precariously on a high beam with

  not a care in the world.

  "Wait, I forgot something," he said. "When they located the artifacts I was a

  bouncer."

  Her eyebrows flew up. "A bouncer?"

  He laughed. "Why are you so surprised?"

  "The way you were with Grant. You didn't want to fight him. I could see that when

  you hesitated to hit him."

  When he spoke, each word came out flat and concentrated. "I hate violence."

  "Yet you took a job as a bouncer?"

  "Keeping the peace."

  "Did you work in Gambit Creek?"

  "No. A cantina in Mexico called Santerra's. Not a pretty place. I was there a few

  months before I came back to the States."

  She didn't allow his revelations to outweigh her curiosity. "What on earth were you

  doing in Mexico?"

  He stayed silent. She felt the wall go up cleanly, deliberately. Just when she thought

  she might get somewhere he hid his thoughts like a turtle hid in its shell. Maybe he was

  more like her than she'd guessed. Moving from job to job, place to place. Afraid of being

  somewhere too long, of attachment to things that could be torn from her in one horrible

  blow. She didn't want to think about it now or endure the sharp pain that built behind

  her eyes from unshed tears. Instead she thought of Shane.

  The image of a bouncer didn't fit him. A rancher. A strong, quiet man seemed closer

  to the truth. Here, on the land, in the increasing heat of the noonday sun, Shane had

  found his element. She sensed his admiration for the nature around him, and his

  reverence for protecting what he saw as his. Her respect for him deepened, but inside

  that regard lay a fear, one she couldn't release until she understood his final secret. Too

  much pressure could make him withdraw, thornier than the nails and barbwire she'd

  discovered at the site.

  Before the horseback ride, she'd followed him as he'd fed the small cache of pigs

  that grunted and squealed. Then she'd watched as he watered his vegetable garden.

  Now, as they rode on, she asked him about his ranch. She felt him relax again, as if

  thankful she'd backed away from her earlier line of questioning.

  "A lot of people don't realize that livestock takes time," he said, the timbre of his

  voice vibrating deep in his chest and into her back. "Animals need tending. I have only

  ten horses and that's enough work as it is. But I have a hundred head of cattle."

  "Don't you have any help?"

  "Uncle Clement helps me when he can. I did have two ranch hands who helped me

  on a rotating basis part-time. Their father has a small ranch on the other side of Uncle

  Clement's property. They're riding in rodeos and want to devote more time to bull-

  riding than ranching."

  "How do you manage?"

  "It hasn't been easy. Some of it is dumb luck and determination. I seem to have a lot

  of both. I'm looking for some more help."

  "When do you relax and have fun?"

  "Humph. I thought yesterday was pretty fun," he said, a smile in his voice.

  "Right. And I'm a monkey's uncle."

  For several moments he was silent, and she could almost hear his mind turning. "I

  haven't had fun in a long time, Emma. I'm not sure I even know what it is anymore."

  "But you love your ranch."

  "Yes, I love it here. At least I did. For four years I've had a taste of happine
ss." He

  paused, perhaps searching for the right words. "I told you there's a lot you don't know

  about me."

  "That's evident. A construction worker, then a bouncer."

  She heard him make a little noise, like he'd almost laughed but thought the better of

  it. "Before those jobs I'd already picked up my bachelor's in business. I left the ranch to

  get away from bad memories. When I inherited this place from my father, I thought the

  memories would be gone. I thought they were until two months ago when the whole

  mess opened up again."

  He shifted in the saddle and the horse moved along steadily, not even noticing the

  redistribution in weight.

  "What happened?"

  Shane cleared his throat. "Something I'd put far behind me came roaring back.

  While I was in college, recruiters approached me from a government agency. I seriously

  considered a career as an agent with their group. They promised me everything. Damn

  good pay. Excitement, adventure."

  "Danger," she said.

  She felt him nod. "Exactly. Then I reconsidered. I didn't want a job where I was out

  of control. Where…I might have the chance to hurt someone." The pain in his words

  became palpable, like a dull throb. "I didn't want to be in any situation where violence

  might be required."

  She waited, her heart pounding harder as the suspense went higher. "Then what

  happened?"

  "They told me some things about my family…about my life. They had obviously

  checked into my father's background, long and hard. Some of what they revealed I

  already suspected. Other things…"

  Emma felt his tension growing. "You mean they'd already done a background

  check on you before they interviewed you for the job? That's not normal recruitment

  procedure, is it?"

  "No, it's not normal. But they knew they could convince me to join them. With

  what they knew they could drag my entire family through the dirt."

  "That's ridiculous. Why on earth would they go to such measures?"

  He remained quiet as he guided the mare onto a trail that Emma knew must lead to

  the top of the ridge. As they ascended slowly, the height made her a bit nervous. She

  kept her gaze away from the edge. Her heart banged unsteadily and she gripped his

  arm that still stayed around her waist.

  "Because they needed me more than I needed them," he said.

  "Who are they?"

  "I can't tell you."

  Disappointment and doubt punched her. Right. "CIA? FBI?"

  "No. This organization is worldwide and deals with things the CIA and FBI don't

  always handle. A lot of their assignments are…well, paranormal in nature."

  Double doubts made her sigh, and so did anger that he'd deceive her. "Oh, Shane,

  don't try this. Don't even try."

  "What?" His voice sounded gruff against her ear.

  "First you can't tell me what this organization is called and now you say it's a

  group of ghost busters or something? I don't believe in all that paranormal stuff."

  He chuckled. "Haven't you heard that it's okay to be a scientist and believe in

  something outside of the realm of what you can't prove?"

  "No."

  "Well, I guarantee you this agency does exist and if it didn't, this world would be in

  a lot of trouble. There are forces at work in this world and in another world that exists

  beyond our own. They are just as real as you and I on this horse right now."

  "Another realm?" This just got better and better.

  His arm tightened around her waist slightly. "Yeah. It's called the Shadow Realm.

  And that's why you shouldn't excavate on my land or even on my uncle's land."

  More confusion poured into the mix as well as more skepticism. What had she

  gotten herself into? "Now wait a minute. What does my work on Sadie Cutley's cabin

  have to do with this so-called Shadow Realm?"

  "A lot. Believe me, it's complicated. Very intricate. I don't think you want or need to

  hear about it all now."

  "Is this Shadow Realm a criminal organization?"

  "No. It's a place. Another dimension in time."

  Now she'd heard everything. Disappointment welled up with tremendous feeling.

  "That's ridiculous."

  "Is it? How much do you know about Superstring Theory?"

  "A little here and there."

  "Then you know nothing is impossible. That there are many other dimensions

  existing on Earth."

  "I didn't say I believe in the theory."

  "A lot of scientists don't."

  Curiosity made her ask, "Does this organization serve as a watchdog for tracking

  down stolen relics?"

  "They're more than that. They jump into situations where the average person

  wouldn't think of going. Into countries where insurgencies, wars and corruption define

  how thin a line an agent has to walk in order to survive from day to day."

  His voice had taken on a sharp edge, and her nerves jumped. "And you broke

  down and joined this organization?"

  "Yeah."

  "But I thought you said you were a construction worker and a bouncer?"

  "They were covers."

  She took a deep breath and let out some of the tension. "I see. When did you quit

  working with this…covert place?"

  His arm moved and his hand drifted upward until his thumb just touched the

  underside of one of her breasts. She shivered and wondered if he realized what he was

  doing. "When I heard that my father had died. They no longer had a hold on me then."

  She heard the catch in his voice and she almost looked around to see if the pain that

  laced through his words would reflect on his face. But he continued, and she thought

  she must have imagined that soft sound.

  "I was tired of working in places where people would rather shoot you than look at

  you. Trying to blend in, fit in with scum is the hardest." His voice sounded rough, as if

  heavy emotion gripped him.

  "Oh, Shane, how did you do it?"

  His laugh was more a grunt of derision. "Very, very well."

  "And your parents? What did they think of your work?"

  "They didn't know what I really did. My mother had divorced my father by the

  time I entered the agency, and she moved to New York. My father…well, my father

  thought I was a bum. He had high expectations of me running the ranch. He wanted to

  expand the size of the property and get more livestock. Yet I was drifting around the

  world doing what he thought were odd jobs…disappearing for months at a time. Half

  the time they didn't know if I was dead or alive."

  Emma's heart constricted. Little did Shane know how much she understood his

  lifestyle. No, she hadn't consorted with known criminals in order to jail them for

  antiquities theft, but she'd traveled around the world, seeing new faces, new places.

  She'd hoped with each new face, each new world, that she'd find fulfillment and the

  guilt would disappear.

  The achievement remained short-lived and the guilt never relented.

  She swallowed hard and hot tears took her by surprise as they traced a path down

  her face. Sniffing, she pulled her sunglasses off and hoped he couldn't see her tears. She

  took another diversion, another track to avoid the wound that festered within her.

  "What did this organization hold over your head all those years?" she asked.

  "They
wanted me because they'd been trying to finger my father for antiquities

  theft for years. And because there is a very dangerous place near the area you're

  excavating. That's why you should stay away. There's a damned good reason why you

  shouldn't be excavating where you are, Emma."

  "So you said." Her throat felt hoarse and tight, an ache deepening within her. "How

  awful about your father."

  Shane cleared his throat. "I'd known since I was a little kid that he was doing

  something illegal. When I tried to approach my mother about it, she brushed me off.

  And I wanted to scream at her and ask her how she could put up with him—" He cut

  off, taking a deep, unsteady breath. "Why she didn't leave him earlier."

  Her tears came in earnest, dropping one by one. She must have made a sound, for

  he reached up and turned her face toward him. One of her tears fell on his hand.

  "Hey, what's this?" he asked, his fingers caressing her jaw gently as his serious gaze

  touched her face.

  "Hay is for horses." She turned her face out of his grip.

  "Are you all right?"

  "Family abuse and things like what you describe bother me. It's such a useless

  tragedy."

  He didn't say anything, and she wondered if he thought her weak because she

  cried.

  So intent had she been on his story that she'd missed the ascent to the top of

  Buzzard Ridge. Shane stopped his horse far back from the edge of the canyon, but she

  knew if she walked to the rim and peered through the brush, she'd see the excavation

  site far below.

  They sat without moving for several moments and she drank in the magnificent

  scenery. Thin, feathery clouds drifted high in the sky, a gentle breeze pushing them

  through the vivid blue background. Intense sun lay across the rocks, causing heat

  waves that shimmered before her eyes. Some of her sadness drained away in the

  presence of nature's magnificence.

  "It's beautiful," she said softly. "The canyon walls look like solid gold."

  Shane released the reins and his other arm came about her waist, drawing her full

  against him, his loins pressed tightly to her butt. His cock, fully aroused, taunted her to

  ignore it. Leaning to the side slightly, so that his lips rested within a scant inch of

  touching her ear, he whispered, "Golden like your soft, soft hair. And your sun-kissed

 

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