Nothing moved in the vast desert landscape as Jack cruised to a slow halt and the Blazer pulled around, blocking them from the front.
Chapter Thirty-six
Dust blew across the road in angry little eddies.
Neither Taylor nor Jack moved. A man in a tan uniform stepped out of the Blazer, and as he ambled toward their car, his eyes scanned back and forth. Slow moving or not, Taylor sensed he was missing nothing.
“I don’t like how this feels,” she whispered.
“That makes two of us.”
The sheriff stopped outside Jack’s window and bent his head, staring inside. “Afternoon, folks.”
Taylor was mesmerized. The man in the warm sunshine was the spitting image of Mel Gibson, but somehow that didn’t make her feel better.
“Afternoon, officer.” Jack’s feet were together, his expression calm. “Hope I wasn’t speeding back there.”
“Five miles over, according to my radar. Would you step out of the car, please?”
A muscle moved at Jack’s jaw. “Any reason for a problem?”
The man in the uniform didn’t move. “No reason at all. Are you two headed somewhere in the area?”
“My wife and I are just passing through.”
“Don’t suppose you’re headed to a place called Almost, are you?”
There was a tiny pause. Then Jack shook his head. “Never heard of it.”
“A lot of people haven’t.” The officer took another long look at Taylor and adjusted his sunglasses. “That means you probably haven’t heard of a fellow called Teague.”
“Should I have?” Jack said pleasantly.
“Once you’ve met Izzy, you don’t forget him” came the equally pleasant answer.
“Izzy? Odd sort of name.”
The craggy face settled into a smile. “If you want to tell him that to his face, you’re a better man than I am.” The smile grew. “Jack Broussard, I take it?”
Jack released a tense breath. “You must be T.J. McCall.”
“That would be me.” The sheriff of Almost, Arizona, pushed back his brown Stetson and surveyed the two. “And you would be Mr. and Mrs. Stone?”
“If anyone asks,” Jack said tightly. “Mind if I reach beneath my seat?”
“No problem. Just don’t go firing that Beretta you were trying so hard to hide. Have to watch the angle of the sun this time of day, because metal tends to catch the light.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll remember that.”
The sheriff slipped off his mirrored sunglasses. “I expect you will.” He smiled at Taylor. “I’ll give you two an escort into town. Your accommodations are ready and waiting. After that long drive, you’ll probably want to shower and eat.”
There in the desert stillness with sunlight playing over her shoulders, Taylor felt the tension slip out of her body. “He’s the exhausted one. The big fool drove all the way and wouldn’t let me help, even if he’s hurting.”
“Men have a way of doing that, Ms.—Mrs. Stone.” T.J. McCall ran his tongue across his teeth. “My Tess would be spitting mad at me, too, truth be told. She can’t wait to meet you, by the way. She’s a real big fan.” He rocked back on his heels. “So am I. Finished The Forever Code in one night.”
Taylor flushed beneath those keen blue eyes. “I’m glad to hear it. We appreciate all your help.”
“No need for thanks. I owed Izzy a favor. A lot of people owe Izzy favors.” He shook his head. “Only problem is my wife. It took a lot of arguing to talk her out of throwing a county-wide party for you two, and her parties are pretty special.” His voice took on a tinge of pride. “No one ever forgets a bash at Rancho Encantador.” He pointed along the brown ridge of hills to a high valley circled by mountains. “You can see the roof from here.”
Taylor couldn’t see much more than desert, mountains, and a hint of pink adobe walls. “It looks wonderful.”
“On the big side, but Tess and I plan to fill it with kids. Already have two and another on the way. I wanted to stop at five, but she says nothing doing. Don’t worry about privacy, because your casita is up the hill behind the main house. Take the dirt road north at the burned-out mesquite tree. I’ll be right behind you.”
As he spoke, an unearthly yowling filled the air.
Taylor blinked. “What on earth was that?”
“Just the song dogs talking. Funny, they usually don’t get social this time of day.”
Taylor looked up at the sheriff in confusion. “Song dogs?”
“Coyotes. Lots of them up here in the high desert.”
The noise grew closer, an unsettling confusion of sound that made goose bumps rise on Taylor’s skin. Without warning, half a dozen dark shapes flashed beneath the palo verde tree, leaving tracks across the yellow blossoms that covered the ground like snow.
T.J. McCall pushed back his hat, frowning. “I’ll have to tell Miguel there was a pack up here. They don’t usually come down this far to the main highway.”
“Miguel?” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Is he one of your deputies?”
“No, Miguel’s just a friend, but you couldn’t have a better man watching your back.”
“You sure you trust him?”
The sheriff crossed his arms. “With my firstborn child. With my secondborn, too, come to think of it. He’s taken care of them many times. Relax, Navy. You’re in good hands here.”
“Don’t underestimate these people, sheriff. We walked into a firefight when we left San Jose. At least one government agent was killed, and people will be trying to track us. In addition, there’s a leak somewhere inside the government team. Just so you know what you’re getting into,” Jack added grimly.
“Izzy’s already filled me in on the situation. You can rest assured we’ll ride a tight herd on things here in Almost. Only my wife and Miguel know you’re here, and no strangers can move anywhere in the high country without Miguel noticing.”
Jack glanced at the steep mountains that ran in dark waves toward the horizon. “How can one man keep track of all this? There must be thousands of miles of open country out there.”
“Most of it’s too rough for anything but mountain lions and coyotes. As far as the rest, there’s no better tracker than Miguel.” The sheriff scratched his jaw. “Thing is, you probably won’t believe what he can do. A lot of things about this beautiful country turn out to be different from what you expect.”
On that obscure utterance, he headed back to his Blazer.
Casita—or little house—was definitely the wrong word for the enchanting adobe cottage nestled in the foothills above the sprawling McCall ranch. Bloodred bougainvilleas clambered over pink walls that gleamed in the afternoon sunlight as the sheriff escorted them along a flower-lined walk to the main house. Taylor couldn’t take her eyes off the handmade tile and split beams, with stained-glass windows that opened to the desert.
She wanted to meet their hostess, but she sensed that Jack was dead on his feet, even though the man would never admit it.
“I expect you two want to wash up and rest, so I’ll keep the welcomes brief. Unfortunately, my three girls will never forgive me if they don’t get to say hello.” As the sheriff opened the wooden door into the main courtyard, giggles spilled from behind a huge Mexican sage covered with purple flowers.
“Katie, you and Becca come meet our guests.” When the sheriff’s voice boomed through the courtyard, the thick branches parted, and two small forms shot over the ground. They both had neat braids, but their cheeks were covered with dirt, and neither could have been happier as they flung themselves into their father’s strong arms. He caught them both and swung them wide, sunlight brushing two pairs of small red high-top sneakers.
“No more harum-scarum. We’ve got guests, remember. Say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Stone,” he said gruffly.
The taller one fairly danced over the ground to shake hands with Taylor, then Jack, but her little sister held back, hugging her father’s leg.
“C’mon, Becca
,” her sister trilled. “They’re nice, can’t you see? You just have to shake their hands, not kiss them or anything.”
Becca’s face filled with color. She glanced up at her father, took in his reassuring nod, then marched warily toward the new guests. She gave each hand a stiff shake and ran to the tall woman opening the French doors from the kitchen.
Sunlight played over Tess McCall’s red-gold hair, and amusement touched her eyes as she squeezed her daughter’s hand. Taylor noticed there was chalk dust on her nose. Becca noticed, too, whispering in her mother’s ear, then reaching up to brush it off.
“This is my wife, Tess,” the sheriff said proudly. “And these are my daughters. We’re glad to have you here at our ranch.”
There was quiet pride in his simple words, and deeper emotion in the look that passed between husband and wife as Tess guided Becca over the flagstone patio.
“I’m so happy to meet you both. I know you’re both probably dead on your feet, so I’ll dispense with the usual tour. There’s food on warmers up in the casita, and the refrigerator’s stocked. I’ve warmed up the hot tub, too, since it gets nippy in the evening.” She reached around a magnificent rosebush to shake Taylor’s hand. “I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to have you here. You, too—Mr. Stone.”
“Momma, can I show them the way to the casita?”
“That would be very nice, Katie. Why don’t you help her, Becca?”
Red sneakers flashed over the ground, accompanied by wild giggles. The rosebushes shook as the girls disappeared around a winding adobe fence covered with trailing morning glories.
Tess watched them with a smile. “I wish I had half their energy.” She took a deep breath. “They’re up at dawn and they don’t stop until we tuck them in at night.”
“You feeling okay?” T.J. put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Not having any more pains, are you?”
His wife flushed. “I’m just fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded firmly. “A little tired, that’s all. I wanted to finish that market study for Mae’s new tortilla soup launch.” She glanced at Taylor as they walked beneath an adobe arch fitted with an old cowbell. “We’re experimenting with some local products, the hotter the better, but don’t let T.J. talk you into sampling them. After my first taste, my mouth was sore for a week.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Taylor watched sunlight play over Tess’s face and wondered if she wasn’t a little pale. “Are you sure this isn’t too much for you? We could stay somewhere else.”
“I wouldn’t hear of it. I’ve got months to go yet.” She touched the slim curve of her stomach with a protective hand. “My husband just likes to worry. You know how men can be.”
Taylor looked over at Jack, who was walking slightly ahead, talking with the sheriff. Except for her father, Jack was the only man who had ever worried about her or protected her. She had to remind herself not to get used to the experience.
“Do you know about what happened in California?” she asked quietly.
“T.J. told me. It will probably be hard for you to trust anyone now, but you can believe my husband when he tells you it’s safe here. He’ll see to it. The man’s good at taking care of people.” Her face brightened. “Whenever you feel rested, just come down to the main house. The girls and I are making biscuits today.”
Taylor grimaced at her creased jeans and dusty jacket. “First I want to try out that hot tub. It sounds like heaven after driving all day. In fact, I might never come out again.”
Her breath caught as she turned a corner, where a small door of teal blue opened into a courtyard filled with wildflowers. The two girls were already holding Jack’s hand, tugging him inside. He reached down to grab Katie’s pigtails while she danced around him, laughing.
The sight did odd things to Taylor’s insides. Who knew he’d be so comfortable around children? She watched him break off a big orange hibiscus flower and tuck it into Becca’s hair, smiling gravely as her face filled with color.
But she didn’t pull away. Her blue eyes, so like her father’s, simply gleamed. Another woman smitten by the lethal Broussard charm, Taylor thought wryly. That must make about a thousand.
A thousand and one.
She followed Tess into a room rich with the scent of piñon and cedar. Light gleamed off stained glass and hand-loomed rugs with a warmth that was nearly palpable.
“I think that’s enough for now,” Tess said, as Jack surreptitiously rubbed his shoulder. “Say good-bye, Katie. You, too, Becca.”
There was more giggling, quiet voices, then another flash of red sneakers back out into the golden sunlight.
Taylor felt as if she’d been touched by some rare magic, a force as tangible as the clay walls that climbed the hillside. Jack’s smile told her that he felt the magic, too. But he was just about to collapse.
She waved good-bye to their hosts, closed the door, and took a deep breath, savoring the warm desert air. Then she took Jack’s arm and turned him toward the bedroom. “If you need help undressing, just let me know.”
“I think I can manage,” he said dryly.
“I’m not so sure. You look like you’ll pass out any second.” Taylor turned back the soft cotton sheets on the bed and mounded up the pillows. “If so, I’ll take off whatever I see fit,” she said huskily.
“You’re welcome to try. I might be deadweight after all.” Jack pulled her down onto his lap. “Sorry. I had other plans for how we’d spend our first few hours out of that car.”
She touched his face, smoothing the lines of exhaustion. “Later, Navy. This is just a temporary reprieve. Tonight I figure we can start at the hot tub and work our way across every usable surface from there. You interested?”
Heat flared in his eyes. “Can dogs bark?”
But Taylor pushed him back onto the bed and tugged off his shoes. “Don’t bother looking at me like that. When I have my way with you, I expect you to manage to be semi-conscious.”
He made a muffled sound as his shoes hit the floor. After some maneuvering, Taylor pulled off his shirt, avoiding the bandage on his upper arm.
Then she went to work on his belt.
It was embarrassing to see that her hands weren’t quite steady.
She blew out a breath, trying not to feel the rock-hard stomach and rigid abs, or remember how much she wanted to have him touch her in this big bed.
“I’ll find something for you to eat, if you’re hungry. Soup. Milk.” Stop babbling, O’Toole. “The truth is, I can cook. An egg.” With a little luck. “How about some iced tea?”
Jack muttered as she slid his belt free, and Taylor swallowed in sheer lust as his pants rode low over lean, hard hips.
Sweet Mary, the man was built, no question about it.
Right now, she wanted to strip off his pants and see all the rest of that prime body. Touching him was going to take her a great deal of time.
But not now.
With a pang of regret, she shut down one of her better fantasies and went to work on his zipper, trying to keep her fingers from straying to the straining cloth on either side. She cursed as the metal stuck twice.
Sweat touched her brow. He’s just a man, damn it. It’s not like you’ve never touched a hunk before. Rein yourself in.
A drop of sweat fell, beading against those gorgeous stomach muscles and sliding down to the curve of his navel. Taylor wanted to moan with sheer, excruciating lust.
Forget the zipper. Forget taking off his clothes.
She shoved the snap free on his jeans and left it at that, her hands shaking when she stood up. “You’re on your own from here.”
There was no answer.
“Jack?”
The pillow rustled. His fingers moved, opening to encircle hers, then closing hard.
Something tightened in her throat at that one simple movement. She needed to be touched now, Taylor realized. The horror of the night before was still too close. Every time she closed her eyes she saw shado
ws and blood, then Agent Rodriguez’s fallen body. “Aren’t you ever frightened?” she whispered to Jack.
His hand moved, pinning her arm to the bed, but he didn’t answer. When Taylor looked up, he was fast asleep. She tugged on his hand, trying to pull away, but his fingers only tightened. Even in sleep, he wouldn’t let her go.
She sank down and curled into his hard body. At least she could feel him beside her, even if it was simply to sleep. In fact, self-restraint was probably good practice. Whatever happened, she couldn’t let the magic of this high valley make her conjure up impossible dreams that had no place in the cold reality of her future.
In a few weeks Jack would be gone, vanished into a jungle in South America or a stormy sea in Asia. It was what SEALs did. And they didn’t look back.
Taylor took a long breath, trying to ignore the magic scent of sage and lavender drifting through the open window. Somewhere to the south, jagged peaks shimmered like smoke above the vast green floor of the desert, and a hawk cried as it soared through the turquoise sky. The last thing she saw before her eyes closed was a dust devil churning up the valley, raising a tall brown cone of mayhem as it scattered rocks and sticks in its path.
Taylor knew exactly how those rocks felt, as Jack’s hard body brushed against hers in sleep.
Chapter Thirty-seven
“They’re not quite what I thought.” Down in the main house, Tess McCall sipped a cup of herbal tea. “She’s quiet, thoughtful. And he’s . . .” Her lips curved.
“He’s what?” her husband demanded.
“Most women would call him a hunk.”
The sheriff snorted.
“No need to be jealous, T.J. Most women would say you’re a hunk, too.”
She heard another snort.
“Are they really in danger?”
T.J. McCall sat back in his chair, watching his daughters play in the courtyard. “I’m afraid so. Izzy knows when to play and when to fold. If he sent them here, the threat’s real.”
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