Shadows and Ruins
Page 17
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