She turned with him and they saw that the vehicle was sitting at an odd angle. Both tires on the right side were completely flat.
A sharp, succinct curse split the air as Dan hunkered down beside the truck and examined the tires. "I can't see anything, but whatever it was got both tires. I must have hit a piece of metal, or something." He stood up and gave the vehicle a disgusted look. "But I didn't notice anything wrong when I came back for the basket."
He turned, his narrowed eyes searching her face. It took Silvey a full minute to realize what he must be thinking. She drew herself up, her eyes snapping. "The truck was perfectly fine when I brought the picnic basket back, Dan. There was nothing wrong with the tires."
The wind picked up, tossing Silvey's hair into her eyes and mouth.
She swept it back and anchored it behind her right ear as she gave him a defiant look.
Dan studied her face for a moment, noting the tilt of her chin and the firm line of her mouth. "Don't get your nose out of joint. I believe you."
She blinked at him and gave a firm nod. "Well. Good. That's good.
So what are we going to do?"
Dan gestured with his chin. "We'll have to walk into Branaman and get a tow truck-if one can be found on a Saturday afternoon in a sleepy desert town."
Dismayed, Silvey glanced down at her boots. Her feet were hot and uncomfortable. "Walk? How far?"
His gaze followed hers. "About five miles. Sorry, but I'm afraid there's no choice." He lifted his head and studied the sky. "I think we're going to have to wait a while, though."
She looked up to see that he was examining the sky above the desert. From their vantage point on the bare slope of the mountain, they could see an enormous brown wall moving toward them. "Oh, no." Her shoulders rounded in defeat. "A dust storm."
He squinted against the lowering sun. "Yeah, and headed this way.
We'll have to wait in the truck until it blows over."
"Good idea," she agreed, reaching for the door handle. "I don't want to drive through that."
They climbed in and poured themselves refreshing drinks of water from the bottles Silvey had brought, sharing a cup, then settled back to wait out the storm.
She turned sideways on the seat, facing Dan. He had one arm across the back of the seat and the other on the rim of the door. One long leg was crooked at the knee so that it curled around the gearshift.
"I don't suppose you've got a deck of cards on you?" she asked, glancing at the multiplicity of pockets on his clothes. "We could play gin."
He cocked an eyebrow. "You play?"
"Are you kidding? What else is there to do when you're stuck in a backwater town in Georgia or Mississippi, the last performance is over and the streets have been rolled up and put away for the night?"
He tipped his head back and laughed, then looked at her with speculation gleaming in his eyes.
"You know, we have some unfinished business that could keep us occupied."
"Oh?"
He leaned forward, watching her face. "Yeah. I caught you, we're here alone together, and now you have to learn your lesson about flirting."
The confines of the truck cab were suddenly stifling. Silvey watched the purpose in his eyes and blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Have you got anything to eat?"
"Eat? You just had lunch."
"Well, you ate most of the sandwiches."
He sat back, his expression telling her he knew exactly what she was doing and he was going to let her get away with it-for now.
"Yeah. I've got some beef jerky."
He pulled a canvas bag from under the seat and unsnapped it to draw out several strips of the dried meat and a pocket knife. He handed both to her.
Silvey took them reluctantly. She didn't want to appear ungrateful, but she didn't care for beef jerky. To her, it tasted like old dried bologna.
"You asked for it," Dan commented, correctly reading the hesitation in her movements.
"This will be fine, thanks."
"Just cut off a chunk the size you want," he said.
Silvey glanced up suspiciously, sure she heard suppressed laughter in his voice. Her chin jutted out stubbornly as she took a piece of the dried meat in one hand and pried the blade out of the knife with the thumbnail of the other hand. When it came free, she stared at the encrusted metal in repugnance. "What have you been doing with this knife?"
"Performing autopsies."
Horrified, she looked up. "Yeah!"
On a burst of laughter, he took the knife from her, scrubbed the blade with a clean bandanna and some water from a bottle, carved off a chunk of the meat and handed it over. "Just taste this. I think you'll like it."
Hesitantly, she bit down on the tough meat, then looked up in surprise. "It's good."
"When are you going to learn to trust me?" he murmured, watching the pleasure in her face. "I make it myself. Fresh meat, herbs and spices. I dry it in my barbecue."
"Ah, a man of ingenuity who's handy in the kitchen," she said, settling back against the door and chewing happily. "What more could a woman want?"
Dan laughed again and cut off a chunk for himself, then twisted around to watch the approaching dust. "You'd better eat fast if you don't want a mouthful of dirt. Here it comes."
She did so and washed down the chewy meat with another gulp of water before the already-listing truck was rocked by gusts of wind.
Her hands shot out, one to the dash, the other to the seat back. "Do you think this is safe?" she shouted over the roar of the wind and the sound of dirt pelting them. Within seconds, a fine fog of dust filled the cab.
"We don't have any choice," Dan said. "We can't get out in this.
Here." He lifted his hips from the seat and pulled the large bandanna out of his back pocket once again. He handed it to her.
"Hold this over your nose."
"But then you won't have one!"
He threw his hands skyward. "I wish, just once, you could do something without arguing. Come here." He reached over and hauled her up between his knees, turned her and settled her on the seat. Her bottom was nestled against him and his arms secure around her. He pushed his chin down onto her shoulder, shook out the handkerchief, and spread it over both their faces. "Hold it over your nose," he growled in her ear.
Too stunned to do otherwise, she obeyed, taking a corner of the fine blue-and-white cloth and covering her nose. Breathing was instantly easier, if she didn't count the way her chest was constricted by having him practically surrounding her. She shivered.
"It's going to be all right, Silvey," he whispered in her ear, tightening his arm around her waist. "I won't let anything happen to you."
She believed him and closed her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. She was in love with him, probably since that first night he had appeared out of nowhere to protect her from an imagined fear…
Surreptitiously, she tried to blot her tears on the bandanna, but they were too close for him to miss what she was doing. While the wind rocked them, dirt pelted them, and dust tried to choke them, he put his lips to the base of her neck and kissed her. He didn't push it any farther because he was offering comfort, but Silvey felt as if she had been given a gift of infinite value. She relaxed and tried to empty her mind of her doubts and fears, revelling in the feeling of safety he gave her.
The storm continued for almost thirty minutes, until Silvey was sure the poor truck had been scrubbed bare of every last speck of paint. In spite of the bandanna, she had enough dust in her eyes, nose and throat to choke a buffalo.
At last the wind began to lessen, then died down to a soft breeze.
Dan scooted her forward on the seat and she turned to look at him.
Simultaneously, they burst out laughing.
"You look like the Abominable Dust Man," she gasped.
"You don't look much better."
Besides what they had breathed in and swallowed, they were covered with a fine sifting of sand. It coated their hair, eyebrows, eyela
shes, skin and clothes. The only clean place on each of them was the circle around their noses and mouths. Gamely, they climbed out of the truck to shake some of the dust off.
Silvey pulled her hairbrush out of her bag and tried to get some of the dirt out of her hair, but finally gave up. She tossed the brush back into her bag and said, "We might as well start walking."
Dan looked down at her feet. "Are you sure you want to?"
"You're not leaving me alone up here!"
"Okay, you asked for it." He took her hand and they started off down the rutted track.
By the time they reached the dirt road into Branaman, the perspiration had turned the dust into mud. It was caked in the creases of their skin and they teased each other as they trudged along.
This had to be love, Silvey decided as her skin began to itch and her feet grew more and more uncomfortable in the sturdy hiking boots.
She wouldn't be enjoying this annoyance with anyone she wasn't nuts about.
After a few minutes on the road, a van full of fisherman picked them up, gave them a ride into Branaman, and dropped them at a service station that had a tow truck.
While Dan and a station employee went after the truck, Silvey shut herself in the small restroom and attempted repairs to her hair and makeup. She only succeeded in filling the little room with a fog of dust and the small sink with mud.
Gazing at herself in the mirror, she grimaced and muttered, "I look like I've been mudwrestling. How can Dan resist falling madly in love with someone who looks like this?" With a shrug, she gave up and stepped outside.
In a little while, Dan returned with the tow truck and the driver set about changing and repairing the tires. Dan cleaned up and they went to a nearby fast-food restaurant to get something to drink.
When they came back, the station owner met them, shaking his head in puzzlement.
"I don't understand it. There wasn't a thing wrong with those tires. Just needed air."
Dan pulled out his wallet to pay the man. "I'll talk to the school's vehicle maintenance office. Maybe the tires are faulty."
Silvey couldn't mourn the problem. In spite of the inconvenience, she didn't regret the day.
It was growing dark by the time they climbed into the truck and headed back to Tucson. She started to take her place by the door, but Dan reached over and drew her to him, tucking her behind his shoulder and smiling down at her. Sighing happily, she fastened the center seat belt, and laid her head on his shoulder. No, she didn't regret the day at all.
CHAPTER NINE
WITHIN two hours they were back in Tucson and it had grown dark.
As promised, Dan stopped and bought her a car battery. She tried to protest when he paid for it himself, but when he gave her a level look, she subsided. She smiled to herself when she thought about their first meeting, their dispute over money, something that didn't seem to matter to him at all now. Next, he took her to the convenience store near her home and installed the battery in her car. Once the car was running, he followed her home and walked her to her front door, unlocked it, and flipped on the lights.
She did as she was told when he ordered her to stay put while he performed a quick security check of her home. Never mind that she had traveled all around the nation in a circus caravan and spent many nights in places far less safe than this. He was being thoughtful, and really, she didn't mind being cherished. In fact, it was something she could become accustomed to in a very short time.
Dan returned to her, and standing by the entrance, he pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her waist. She placed her forearms along his biceps and her hands on his shoulders.
He brushed her lank, dusty hair back from her face and looked into her eyes solemnly. "I want you to think about all you saw and all we talked about today, Silvey."
"I will."
"Silvey, I know you've changed your mind about the village site, but you've got to think about the burial site, too. I don't want to fight you on this issue," he said, his voice dead-level serious, "but I will if I have to. It's important that it be examined scientifically and saved from thieves or vandals."
Silvey's brown eyes were shadowed by worry. "And this excavation has nothing to do with your possible promotion?"
"No, of course not."
She gazed at him for a moment. She knew he was honest, sometimes too honest. "I believe you," she finally said.
"And then you make a decision about whether or not to oppose me and what I'm trying to do."
Her dirt-streaked face turned up to him. "I will," she repeated.
One corner of his mouth edged up. "You're so agreeable tonight. I'd better take advantage of it." He lowered his head and his lips covered hers.
She responded instantly, her feelings for him surging to the surface, swamping her with need. She curled her fingers into his khaki shirt, smelling the dust, tasting his unique salty sweetness. His muscles flexed beneath her fingers as if he was tensing, preparing himself either to pull away or to pull her closer.
After long moments of shared delight, he eased himself back, his breathing as ragged as hers. "This is getting to be a habit, Silvey."
Her gaze flew up to see the seriousness in his eyes. "If so, it's a very nice habit."
He smiled slowly. "I can't argue with that."
"In fact, you could almost say it's getting very close to involvement."
His eyes darkened. She thought they almost looked sad. He didn't answer, but instead, he turned, using one of those incredible, controlled movements of his. He spoke over his shoulder. "Better get some rest. Good night." He ducked out the door and disappeared down the walk.
Silvey refused to allow his mood change to affect hers. She knew there was a battle going on inside him. All she could do was hope that the two of them were on the same side, and that they would win. Together.
She shut the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment, her fingers pressed to her lips. Smiling dreamily, she floated across the living room, headed for the shower. The ringing phone intruded into her happy thoughts and she detoured to pick it up.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Silvey, is that you?" Reed Madison's voice boomed over the line.
She grinned. "Yes, Reed, it's me. Who else would it be?"
"Where have you been girl? We've been trying to call you all afternoon. You'll never guess what we did."
A shiver of apprehension skipped up her spine. She squelched her first reaction, which was to groan in frustration. "Remember, Reed, you weren't going to do anything without discussing it with me first?"
He cackled in triumph. "This was a chance too good to miss."
"Oh, Reed, I don't think I like the sound of this." "You'll like it, trust me."
Silvey pulled the receiver away and gave it a skeptical look. He was the last person in the world she would trust to use good judgment.
With a sigh, she said, "Okay, what did you do?"
He paused, obviously savoring his big moment. "The Beltrans and I took a little drive out to Branaman Mountain this afternoon. We saw a Sonora College truck up there and let the air out of the tires!"
Silvey made a strangled sound. "Oh, Reed, you're joking."
"Nope. That'll teach 'em a thing or two about who they're dealing with."
"Yes, Reed," she snapped. "It certainly will." She hung up quickly before she could give the old man a piece of her mind.
She would have to call Dan right away, and apologize. She reached for the phone again, then decided this might be better faced in person. After all, she was responsible for the group, even if she had ended up being their victim.
She was going to call her grandmother and tell her she wanted no more to do with Leila's Warriors. They were a group of loose cannons racketing around on the deck of their own little ship, crashing into things and causing endless trouble.
She headed for the door, but checked herself, remembering that she was still filthy. Fuming, she stomped into the bedroom and grabbed clean underthing
s, then dashed into the bathroom.
Silvey showered quickly, combed her hair and left, it to air dry, and pulled on a kelly—green sundress and matching sandals. She dabbed on a minimum of makeup, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door. It took her a few moments to recall the address she had memorized along with Dan's phone number when she'd sneaked a peek at his chequebook. Finally, she headed east, into the foothills of the Santa Catalina Mountains.
She took a few wrong turns, but finally located Dan's house on a quiet street of impressive new homes with security fences and yards carefully landscaped with desert plants.
Silvey parked in his driveway. When she stepped out of her car, motion-sensitive lights flooded the front of the house with brightness. Blinking, she made her way to the front door and rang the bell. When there was no answer after several tries, she walked around to the side where she found an unlocked gate.
Curious about the sound of splashing water, she pushed her way through, and found herself in an enclosed patio, surrounded by tropical plants. She was looking down at an illuminated swimming pool whose luscious waters lapped at the tile.
It took Silvey only a few seconds to realize that the splashing sound she had heard was made by Dan, who was methodically swimming laps.
"Amazing," she muttered. "We hiked all over a mountain, walked a couple of miles to reach the road, and he comes home and swims laps. This guy could be the poster person for self-discipline."
In spite of her grousing, she couldn't help admiring the way he sliced through the water in clean, even strokes. His powerful arms seemed to carry him in bursts with carefully timed help from kicks of his feet. When he reached the end of the pool, he somersaulted under water and started the return lap.
Silvey decided it would probably be a while before he was done, so she looked around for a chair. Might as well be comfortable while she waited. Besides, she wouldn't mind sitting and watching him for a while. She found a lounge chair in a darkened corner of the patio and perched on its edge to enjoy the show.
He swam ten more complete laps before he stopped and rested, drawing in deep breaths. Then, he placed his hands on the edge of the pool and in a surge of power, sprang out of the water and onto the pebbled cement.
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