The Cowboy & The Belly Dancer (Heartbeat)

by Charlotte Maclay

  She wished she could offer the same small comfort to Parker. Like the dark rain clouds that nuzzled the high mountain peaks beyond the creek, she wanted to rest her head on Parker’s strong shoulder. Little wonder, given the cruelty that lay in his past, that Parker could not believe in the magic she knew to be true. Tragic, too, for in his own way she suspected he was a grand wizard who had not even begun to test his strength.

  His gaze seemed to settle on her lips and she felt imperceptibly drawn toward him, in the same way an unseen wind moves grains of sand across a desert. Oddly, she felt a connection between the way he was looking at her and an unfamiliar heaviness filling her breasts. Drawing a breath became difficult. In some strange manner, she needed to feel his lips pressed against hers. Softly. Warmly, she thought. But at some basic level she realized where such a dangerous action might lead her, and she let the thought slide away.

  Withdrawing her hand, she glanced toward the creek. The absence of his warmth sent a shiver of longing through her body that she did not dare acknowledge.

  She had never known the intimate touch of a man. Although she had feared what it would be like with Rasheyd, for centuries she had wondered how would it would be with another man. Someone she cared for.

  From the darkness of her lamp she had envied those women for whom the experience had been pleasurable, and pitied those who had suffered in pain and silence. For the first time in all of her existence, she truly regretted she would never know such an experience herself. With Parker...

  Over the murmur of the creek and the restless hum of the leaves in the highest branches, Nesrin could hear the sound of the children playing. Carefree sounds that made her think of the happy times she had spent in her village, of families laughing together.

  “It would be a shame if you and the children would have to leave this lovely place,” she said, thinking of the loan that so concerned Parker.

  Determination weighed his brows into a straight line. “I’m not going to let that happen any more than I’ll let the general take Marge’s kids away. I take my promises seriously.”

  Before Nesrin could respond to his words, the timbre of the creek changed. Suddenly rough water tumbled more fiercely over the rocks.

  A note of urgency cut into Kevin’s voice.

  “Amy! Hang on!” he shouted. “Uncle Parker...help!”

  “What now?” Parker muttered, jumping to his feet and running toward the creek before the child’s fear had fully registered in Nesrin’s mind.

  The creek had risen by two or three feet, the water licking angrily at rocks that had been dry only an hour ago. The current spun crazily, white foam spewing above the muddy stream. At the center of the creek, Amy had a precarious hold on the one remaining visible boulder.

  “What happened?” Nesrin asked, shock and terror temporarily paralyzing her.

  “Flash flood.” Parker ran to his horse, which had been grazing nearby, grabbed a coiled rope and tied it securely to a tree at the water’s edge. “I should have known those damn clouds were dropping rain up in the high country.”

  “I tried to reach her, Uncle Parker. Honest, I tried.” The boy’s jeans were wet to the waist, his young face a mask of fear. “I had a hold of her but she slipped away. I couldn’t help it, Uncle Parker. I couldn’t.”

  “I know, son.” Parker yanked off one boot and then the other. “Stay here.” Rope slung over his shoulder, he waded into the water. Almost immediately his feet slipped out from under him. He fought against the press of the current, righting himself and struggling on.

  Amy’s pleas for help could barely be heard above the roar of the water.

  Helplessly Nesrin watched the swirling water. If only she was more confident of her powers, she might be able to save the child. More likely she would bring an even bigger wall of water crashing down on them all. She cursed her ineptness.

  Before Parker could reach Amy, a wave of cruel white water snatched the child away from the scant protection of the boulder. She spun downstream, her head bobbing out of sight.

  Nesrin sobbed her name. “Amy...”

  Parker shrugged away from the rope and dived into the water, swimming after the child. The current caught him in the same tumbling, swirling foam that had sent Amy plummeting downstream.

  Horrified that both Parker and Amy might drown, Nesrin dashed for the horses. She yanked Magnum’s reins free. Mounting, she urged Parker’s magnificent stallion into a thundering gallop that took them along the course of the stream. Tree branches slapped at her face and arms. She ignored them as she cast about in her mind for a way to save Parker and Amy, two people who had grown dear to her.

  The trail veered away from the swollen creek, then back again. She caught a glimpse of Amy’s tiny blond head, and heard her frightened cry.

  Downstream, beyond the child, Nesrin saw a fallen tree stretched out above the creek. If only she could get there before the child did, perhaps there would be hope for saving her.

  In her imagination, she whispered a command to the horse. Go faster! Be fleet of foot! Magnum responded with a burst of energy. He cut his way past trees and over the rocky ground as though he were a swiftly flying magic carpet.

  She leapt to the ground beside the fallen tree, its ball of roots like gnarly fingers torn violently from the earth by an evil wind. As she scampered along the rough bark of the fir tree, and clambered over branches that tried to block her path, she ripped the strip of silken veil from her belt loops. She lay down and stretched as far as she could, dangling the veil above the water.

  “Amy! Catch my veil.” When the child failed to respond, Nesrin called again. “Look up, Amy! I’m here.”

  The unpredictable current swept Amy toward the far bank, out of Nesrin’s reach. “No,” she cried. “Come this way.”

  Though the fast-moving water raced beneath Nesrin’s perch, everything else seemed to be happening in slow motion. The breeze catching and twirling the end of the veil. A wave of water shoving Amy back to the center of the creek. The sudden, welcome tug of the child’s hand at the tip of the scarf.

  “Hang on, sweet Amy. Hang on.” Nesrin’s perch was too precarious to pull the child to safety. Help would have to come from elsewhere.

  A moment later Parker appeared in the water beside the child. Nesrin felt a surge of relief fully as powerful as the wall of water that had been sent down from the top of the mountain. Another emotion swept through her, as well, one she couldn’t quite identify.

  Nesrin gratefully relinquished her hold on the scarf as Parker assured Amy’s safety.

  Once Parker had his arm around Amy’s waist, he swam for the shore. His muscles shrieked with fatigue. His battered body throbbed with a dozen bruises from collisions with hidden boulders. If it hadn’t been for Nesrin’s quick thinking, he might not have caught up with Amy in time to save her from drowning. Given the speed of the current, he had no idea how she’d managed to get downstream of the girl. He was simply grateful for her intervention and the clever use of her decorative silken scarf.

  Breathing hard, and carrying Amy in his arms, Parker scrambled up the steep bank. He grabbed onto a clump of grass to pull himself the rest of the way to the top.

  Nesrin was there to meet him. “Is the child all right?” she asked. The softness of concern filled her anxious brown eyes.

  Amy coughed and clung to him more tightly.

  He adjusted the child’s position in his arms. “Except for swallowing half the river, sounds like she’ll be fine,” he said.

  “And you?”

  “Battered and bruised, but not beaten.”

  Nesrin brushed her fingertips to his cheek in a warm, all-too-brief caress. “I was worried...about you both.”

  No one had worried about Parker in a good many years—if ever. Somehow, in spite of his fatigue, her words made him stand a little taller. Which was saying something for a guy who was already a couple of inches over six feet. Nesrin certainly had a powerful effect on him. It was more than just sex, he
realized—an unfamiliar combination of protectiveness and pleasure at simply being with her. He’d never felt like that with any other woman, certainly not his former wife.

  Two horses crashed through the woods, Kevin mounted on one mare and leading the other.

  “Did you get her? Is Amy okay?” He slid from the horse and raced to his sister.

  Amy squirmed to get out of Parker’s arms. The two youngsters hugged each other, and Parker remembered the times that he and Marge had had only each other’s comfort to share. He cleared his throat of the lump that threatened to close off his breathing. Thank God he hadn’t let Amy drown.

  “I was tryin’ to get you, Amy,” Kevin said. “I swear I was.”

  “I was scared. You left me.”

  “I went for help. I had to, sis. I wasn’t strong enough...”

  Years of being on the receiving end of parental blame for the least infraction whipped through Parker’s memory. He winced with each bitter recollection. Like the time he’d been protecting Marge from a school-yard bully and the kid had ripped Parker’s shirt. Or when he’d loaned a friend his bike, only to have him leave it clear across town. He’d walked nearly ten miles that day to retrieve the darn thing. Not that his folks had ever appreciated any of his efforts.

  Parker placed a reassuring hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “You did the best you could, son. Your mom would have been proud of you.”

  The relief in the boy’s eyes and the way Kevin stood a little straighter were a reward Parker hadn’t expected. Maybe he shouldn’t get in such a snit over the youngster’s ponytail and scruffy shoes.

  “Any kid who cares as much about his sister as you do is okay in my book,” Parker said. He gave the boy a smile and got sort of a macho, one-of-the-guys grin in return. The exchange was a little stilted, at least on his part, Parker admitted, but it made him feel damn good. Maybe being a father wasn’t so hard after all.

  From the other side of the creek came the call of a stallion. The two mares shifted uneasily in response to Lucifer’s invitation. Magnum snorted his displeasure.

  “Come on, kids, Nesrin. Let’s get on home,” Parker said. At least the wild stallion hadn’t gone too far from the ranch. There was still a chance he could be caught. But that effort would have to wait for another day. “We could all use some dry clothes.”

  “Hey, Uncle Parker, did you see Nesrin ridin’ Magnum? Man, she made that horse fly.”

  Parker slanted her a surprised glance, belatedly realizing she’d ridden his mount rather than the gentle mare Rusty had saddled for her. “Why did you come after us on Magnum instead of your own horse?”

  “Because he was the fastest of the three,” she explained.

  He frowned. “Yeah, but he doesn’t usually let anyone else ride him except me. I hand-trained him and he spooks real easy. He doesn’t even like Rusty or one of the boys to saddle him.”

  “Perhaps he knew you were in trouble.”

  Maybe, but Parker wasn’t quite sure he bought that possibility. More likely, Nesrin was simply a very skilled horsewoman.

  “I mean the horse really flew,” Kevin persisted. “Like his hooves didn’t even touch the ground.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had too much excitement, boy. It’s scrambled your brains.”

  “But I’m telling you—”

  “Mount up, Kevin. The sun’s going down and I’m starting to get cold in these wet clothes. Your sister, too. Let’s move it.”

  Nesrin blew out a sigh. Had she really caused Magnum to fly? Or had it only been Kevin’s fear and imagination that had made the horse appear to loft his hooves above the landscape?

  Oh, rotten figs! If her incantations were more consistent, she could have some faith in her powers. As it was she didn’t dare risk wishing too hard for anything. The results were too devilishly unpredictable.

  Still, she thought smugly, she may well have levitated the horse. That was quite a trick. Almost as powerful as one Rasheyd might have conjured. And she had, only days ago, briefly levitated Amy...until Parker had startled her. The silverware spell had gotten out of hand, of course, emptying every drawer before she could halt the process.

  If only her skills were more reliable...

  * * *

  FLYING HORSES? Nonsense.

  By the time they returned to the ranch, Parker still hadn’t figured out how Nesrin had beaten Amy to that downed tree. The more he thought about it, the more puzzled he became. He knew the path along the creek. It was rugged and winding. A rider couldn’t possibly get up any speed, and if he tried, his horse would probably break a leg.

  The only possible way would have been to fly. And he didn’t believe that cockamamy idea for a second!

  Dismounting at the corral, Parker gave his horse a quick once-over, running his hands over Magnum’s withers and flanks, checking his legs. Not a scratch! Hell, he’d figure it out later.

  He sent the kids into the house with Nesrin and unsaddled the horses.

  In the barn he found Rusty staring glumly at a dismantled generator. If his hired hand had been trying to repair the old piece of equipment, it didn’t look like things were going well.

  Mentally calculating how much this problem was going to cost him, Parker hefted his saddle over the edge of a stall. He couldn’t handle any extra expenses right now. To add to his worries, he knew if the bank foreclosed, they’d likely sell the ranch to a big conglomerate, an impersonal company that wasn’t likely to keep three half-worthless old geezers like Rusty, Pete and Buck on the payroll. He didn’t like the idea of the threesome being cut loose with no place to go.

  “What’s wrong?” Parker asked.

  Rusty scratched at the fringe of hair at the back of his head. “Thought I’d do a little overhauling of this here generator, grease the bearings and such. It’d been awhile.”

  “And?” Parker encouraged.

  “Well sir, after I got all done, I tried to fire her up and she just whined at me. Metal to metal, so to speak. So I took her all apart again.”

  Parker hunkered down to look at the parts strewn on the wooden floor. As mechanics went, Rusty was better at mucking stalls. “So what do you think is wrong?”

  “Figure these here brushes are plum wore-out. I called into town. They ain’t got replacements on hand. It’ll be three, four days, maybe a week afore they can get some.”

  Fingering the part, Parker tended to agree with his hired hand’s assessment of the problem...this time. When he’d bought the ranch there’d been lots of deferred maintenance apparent, some of which he hadn’t taken care of yet. It looked like the generator had just moved to the top of the list. Fortunately, except for the expense, being temporarily without a generator wouldn’t create a crisis. Commercial power was pretty reliable around here.

  “Okay, let’s order the replacements,” Parker said. “Meanwhile, put the generator back together as best you can so we don’t lose any parts.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Parker headed back outside to bring in another saddle. He met Louanne at the barn door.

  “Howdy, neighbor,” she said. “Heard you folks had yourselves quite a picnic.”

  “I should have realized it was raining in the high country.” He’d been distracted, he admitted. Nesrin had that effect on him. “We were lucky Amy didn’t drown.”

  “Yep. Reckon so.” Louanne fell into step beside him, her strides almost as long as his. “I was in to the feed store this morning, talking to Jasper. We was just jawing about this and that, and he was telling me ‘bout some fellas who came by asking questions ‘bout Marge.”

  He stopped in his tracks. “Marge?” Except for Louanne, and his hired hands, no one around here even knew about his sister.

  “That’s what Jasper said. A couple of middle-aged guys. Black hair. Mustaches. They were wearing black suits and asking special-like about your sister. One of the guys had himself a peculiar tattoo.”

  “How’s that?” Parker lifted a saddle from the fence, and Louanne picke
d up the last one, rested it on her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and followed him back into the shade of the barn.

  “Jasper said it looked to him like a little dinky garter snake wrapped around the guy’s thumb. Kinda weird, don’t you think?”

  “There’s no accounting for taste.” He’d known a few drunken soldiers who’d ended up with worse tattoos after a night on the town.

  “Thing is, they wanted to know where your ranch was.”

  “He tell them?”

  “Jasper didn’t like the looks of ‘em. Thought maybe they were some kind of government inspector. He figures if they follow his directions, it’ll take ‘em two or three days to find the place.”

  Parker’s lips twitched into a half smile. “Tell Jasper thanks next time you see him.”

  “I will. We both thought you’d want to know.”

  “I appreciate it.” He wasn’t sure who the two men might be, or their connection to Marge, but he had the uncomfortable feeling they might be from Immigration. Maybe someone had gotten wind of a stowaway in Marge’s effects.

  Or the two guys might be irate brothers in search of a missing sister.

  In any event, he was planning to have a serious talk with Nesrin.

  Chapter Five

  The images flickering across the front of the box were quite a puzzle to Nesrin. Kevin had laughed when he found her peering at the back of the box, hoping to discover how all of those tiny people had gotten inside. He had vainly attempted to explain the box was a television, and those pictures she saw were nothing more than electronic dots racing across a screen.

  She couldn’t see any dots, she thought, raising her eyebrows. It was not nice for a young boy to make light of her ignorance, even if it was so.

  Curling up at the end of the couch and pulling the long braid of her hair over her shoulder, she vowed someday she would catch those tiny people as they came and went from Parker’s house. Then Kevin would know she could be as clever as he.