Desert Heat

by D'Ann Lindun

  “I’m fine.” She wiped her nose with a Kleenex from her pocket.

  He started the SUV, backed out and turned toward Goldfield. “The rain’s letting up.”

  Mallory wiped her nose again. “Yes.”

  As the rain dried up, the craggy gray peaks were nearly hidden behind swirling, lifting mist. They looked like aging ladies wearing lace mantillas. “The mountains are so beautiful.” Mallory sighed. “I can see why Skeeter loved these hills.”

  “He was an old fool,” Mike said. “If I’d known the truth, I would have felt completely different about him.”

  Mallory turned toward him. “Don’t say that. Skeeter was apparently fond of you. He needed your friendship in his life. I don’t want you to hate him now.”

  “I can’t respect him now.” Mike’s jaw was set in a hard line.

  “I’m responsible for making you feel this way. And I don’t like it.” Regret filled Mallory. Skeeter had done so many reprehensible things. Now, in death, he didn’t have his one reliable friend.

  “Wrong.” He looked at her, his dark blue eyes angry. “I’m responsible for myself.”

  The more she was around him, the more she liked him. More than a sexy, big man with killer bedroom eyes, he was too nice to be believed.

  Her head screamed Danger! Danger! Danger!

  Her heart whispered something altogether different.

  ~*~

  Mallory grabbed the dashboard as Mike braked hard.

  “Oh, hell,” he muttered.

  The wash they’d crossed less than two hours earlier was now full of angry, rushing water. A black SUV with the word The Jumping Cholla stenciled across the side sat directly in the middle of the creek. Nobody appeared to be in it.

  “Why is one of your vehicles out here in the middle of a flood?” Mallory’s gaze was riveted on the stranded SUV. “Aren’t we about twenty miles from the ranch?”

  “Yeah. I have no idea why it’s there.” Mike opened the door and a gust of wind blew in. “But I better find out if someone’s inside. He grabbed a jacket from the backseat and climbed out.

  Mallory followed him to the unsteady bank. Fast-moving muddy brown currents swirled around the SUV. The speed and depth of the water made it impossible to ford. There was no way to cross. Brush, rocks and even an ancient saguaro were swept by in the current. The Durango, facing them, was lodged sideways against a palo verde tree, directly in the middle of the flood. The water reached high on the doors.

  “Hey,” Mike shouted. “Anyone in there?”

  Mallory raised her voice with his. “Brent? Can you hear us?”

  Mike glanced at her, but didn’t comment. Tension ran through his voice. “Hello? Answer if you can hear me.”

  Nothing but the roar of the water answered.

  “I don’t think anyone’s in there,” Mike said finally. His voice was hoarse from shouting.

  “I don’t think so either,” Mallory said. “But there’s no way to know for sure until the water goes down.”

  Mike grabbed hold of a palo verde branch by the bank and stuck a foot toward the river. Mallory grabbed his arm. “Don’t. You know how dangerous that could be. It’s over your waist. The current will sweep you away if you try to cross.”

  “There’s a rope in the back of the Durango. I’ll tie it around my waist, then cross.”

  “No.” Mallory’s entire body trembled. “Please don’t risk it. If you get swept off your feet an undertow could pull you down.”

  He looked at her and anguish tore across his face. “I can’t stand here while one of my best friends drowns.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s in there. If they were, they would be waving or shouting or making some kind of movement. I don’t see anything. Do you?” She made a visor with her hand and tried to see through the windshield.

  “Someone could be lying on the seat. Hurt or sick.” He paced up the bank a short distance, then came back.

  “I doubt it. I bet whoever was in that car climbed out. I think he went back toward Goldfield.” She touched Mike’s arm.

  He stared at the stuck SUV. “I have to find out.”

  Mallory pleaded, “Please don’t risk your own life on the off chance somebody’s in there.”

  He whirled toward her. “I can’t stand here and wonder.” Pushing by her, he went to the SUV and lifted the trunk. Taking out a long section of rope, he tied it around his waist. Then he attached the other end to the bumper of the parked Durango.

  Mallory stood frozen in fear as he made a double knot and tossed his jacket aside. She wasn’t a strong swimmer. He was so much bigger than she was she didn’t think she could pull him from the water if she needed to. She tried one last time. “Mike, I’m afraid for you. Please don’t go in there.”

  He looked at her for a minute. His jaw was set in a determined line, his lips pressed together. “I have to. If anything happens, go back to Tortilla Flat. They have phone service there. My cell won’t work here, there’s no reception.”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it. “How can I help?”

  “Just hold the rope steady. If anything happens, jump in the car, put it in reverse and jerk me out of there. He handed her the middle section of the rope. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the rushing flood waters. He stood for a minute, bracing against the powerful water. When he had his footing, he took one small step.

  From the bank, Mallory watched, holding her breath. Inch by inch, he moved away from her and toward the stranded vehicle. A gush of water rose above his waist, but he held his ground. She couldn’t see how he could keep his footing against the powerful surge, but somehow, even as the water reached his chest, he made it to the door and grabbed hold of the handle. She let her air out in a gasp. Thank God he was safely there. He tugged on the door, but couldn’t budge it, lodged against the tree. He banged his fist on the door, then cupped his hands to see through the window.

  “Is anyone there?” Mallory yelled.

  “No.” He gave a thumbs down signal. “I’m coming back across.”

  Her body sagged. Thank God. Now if he would only make it safely back. She straightened and held the rope so tightly it burned into her palms. She lived each step through him. His search for solid footing, the shifting sand, the push and pull of the river. Her heart beat so hard she felt faint. But Mike needed her to be strong, so she concentrated on his safe return.

  Less than two feet to go, just when he had almost reached the safety of the bank, he fell. His body lurched sideways into the water. Like he weighed no more than a piece of paper, he was carried along until he came to the end of the rope. The slack jerked tight, tearing through Mallory’s hands. His head went under, and for a long minute she didn’t think he was going to resurface.

  “Mike! Oh, no! Where are you?” She dropped the lifeline and ran down the bank to where he disappeared and frantically searched the muddy water for him.

  He bobbed to the top, coughing.

  Grabbing up the rope, like a fisherman with the biggest catch of her career, she struggled to pull him in. Bracing her heels in the wet sand, she put all her strength into it. She wrapped the coils around her waist and put her weight into the life or death struggle. He paddled her direction, making progress by inches. The water fought them both, but by tiny increments, he came to the shore.

  Finally at the bank, he grabbed hold of the rope and crawled out. He fell face down and choked, then spit out water. Mallory fell back on her rear, still holding the rope taut. Her legs shook so hard she didn’t think she could ever walk again. “Are you okay?”

  He managed a nod. “Yeah.”

  “Thank God. I thought you were a goner.” Forcing words out of her tight, raw throat was difficult.

  “You and me both.” He coughed again.

  After several deep breaths, her heartbeat began to slow. She moved to take the rope off him and saw he shook from head to toe. Helping him roll to his back, she untied the knot with numb fingers. “You’re freezing. You’ve got to ge
t out of those wet clothes.”

  “There’s swim trunks and a T-shirt in the back,” he said through chattering teeth.

  “Can you stand?” She put her hands under his arms and tried to help him up. He was too heavy. There was no budging him.

  “Not for a minute.” His lips were turning blue.

  “You’ve got to get in the car.” She used her meanest voice. One she used on students who didn’t turn in their papers on time. “Now, get up. I mean it, Mike.”

  He smiled a little although it obviously pained him to do so. “Okay.”

  With difficulty, he pushed to his knees. He coughed again, but didn’t spit up any more liquid. She took that as a good sign. Bending, she put one arm around her neck. It weighed on her like an oxen’s yoke. She didn’t care. Somehow she had to get him inside the car and into heat before hypothermia set in. She tugged, he lunged. Together, they got him on his feet.

  He swayed and she wrapped her arms around him to steady him. “No, you don’t.”

  Taking careful baby steps, she guided him to the back of the SUV. He sat on the tailgate with a thud. “I feel awful.”

  “No wonder. You swallowed half of Arizona’s water,” she said. “We’ve got to get you dry before you catch pneumonia.”

  Tremors shook him.

  Mallory climbed in the back of the Durango and rummaged around until she found a gym bag and a rolled-up sleeping bag. She carried the items to the tailgate and stepped out. “I found the dry clothes. Can you get in them, or do you need my help?”

  “I can manage,” he said. His hands shook.

  She wasn’t so sure. “I’ll step around to the other side of the car while you dress.”

  He nodded.

  Still not certain he was going to be able to get out of his wet things, she moved away. The rain clouds, drifting away, gathered for another round. She shivered. If she was cold, she couldn’t imagine how Mike felt. “You dressed?”

  “Almost.”

  She went around to the other side of the SUV. Mike had managed to get to his wet things off, but not the dry clothes on. With his back to her, he stood in all his naked male glory. Wide shoulders, slim hips, long muscled legs. And an ass to die for. She swallowed. Hard. “Let me help.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Please.”

  Keeping her eyes firmly on his face, she tugged the T-shirt over his head and helped him lift his arms into the sleeveless tank. It fell below his hips, covering his genitals and relief and regret fought within her. She knelt and lifted his icy, big man foot through the swim trunks. Then the other. Standing, she pulled the trunks up his frozen legs, thighs and over his hips. A smile tugged at her mouth. She hadn’t ever pulled a man’s shorts this direction.

  Her face felt flushed but he didn’t look any warmer. “Come on. Get in front and I’ll turn on the heater.”

  He climbed in the front seat and she unrolled the sleeping bag and blankets and tucked them around him, then got in the driver’s seat and started the engine. In a few minutes hot air poured through the vents. His teeth chattered.

  “The water’s not going down. I’m going to drive back to Tortilla Flat.” She backed around. “Maybe there’s someplace there you can take a hot shower.”

  She sped down the road as fast as she dared under the slick conditions.

  Before she reached Tortilla Flat, another wash full of water brought her to a skidding stop. The SUV fishtailed and she fought to straighten it out. Inches before it skidded off into the waters, she brought it to a crooked stop. Wiping sweaty palms on her jeans, she said, “We almost went for another dunk.”

  “Don’t try to cross,” he warned. “It’s deeper than it looks.”

  She looked in the rear-view mirror. “We can’t go back. Is there another way around?”

  “No.” He met her eyes. “We’ll just have to wait it out.”

  He was right. No way would she attempt to ford the water, and he wasn’t up to it. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck?”

  “No telling. The big surge usually comes after the rain stops.” He looked toward his window. “It’s starting to rain again, so we’re not going anywhere soon.”

  “Will someone come looking for us?” she asked.

  “Not until late,” he said. “We better settle in.”

  She laughed nervously. “Well, we have picnic stuff. Our leftovers from lunch.”

  “We can sleep in here if we have to,” he said. He looked over his shoulder. “The backseats fold down to make a bed.”

  Sleeping with him, in even an innocent way, would be a bad idea. Mallory swallowed and her mouth felt like a Vegas sidewalk—hot and gritty. If it came to spending the night, she was certain she wouldn’t be able to get much sleep being so close to Mike. But, surely they’d be out of here long before that. The clock on the dash said 4:27. A couple of hours until dark.

  “Are you warming up yet?”

  “Some.” he looked at her and his lips weren’t blue any more, but they weren’t normal either. Even though the blankets covered him, she could see his shivers.

  Mallory scooted across the seat and lifted the edge of the nylon material and slid under it. She turned so she half faced him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “This is supposed to warm you if you have hypothermia.”

  “It does, but you have to be naked.” His breath fanned over her ear.

  “We’ll work with this.” A very warm tingle shot through her. Dangerous ground. “Want to listen to a CD? What do you have?”

  “Whatever’s in the glove box.” He didn’t sound interested.

  She looked. Eagles, Destiny’s Child, Van Halen, Alicia Keys. Odd variety of selections. Choosing Alicia Keys, Mallory slid the CD in the player and the singer’s smooth, smoky voice filled the car. She stuffed the blankets under her butt and snuggled against him again. This time he folded her in his arms. Mallory attempted to relax, but crushed against his wide chest, stilling her pounding pulse wasn’t easy.

  Her knees, poking into the side of his leg, ached and she shifted.

  “Are you comfortable?” he asked.

  “No,” she had to admit.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  Puzzled, she did. He circled her waist with one hand. “Move back and sit on my lap.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she did as he asked. He tucked her under his chin and wrapped his arms around her middle. His bare legs felt like ice on her butt and she wiggled a little trying to get comfortable.

  “Don’t do that unless you want me to get hot real quick,” he warned in her ear.

  His deep voice sent a hot-cold flush zipping through her. Though whether from his words or his warm breath, she wasn’t sure. She squeezed her thighs together and tried not to move. Gradually, his heart beating against her cheek and the heat from the vents relaxed her. She closed her eyes.

  Pretty sure Mike slept, his breathing slow and regular, she focused on Alicia Keys’ music and the steady thumping of rain on the roof. She didn’t want to think about being stranded in between two raging streams, Skeeter, or Mike’s effect on her. The way she wanted to stay in his arms, to undress and explore him had to be due to emotions from her father’s death. A way to escape grief and anger. She couldn’t find another explanation. She never reacted like this to a man, especially a man she barely knew.

  He shifted and her eyes flew open. “You’re awake.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you warmer now?” Was it her imagination, or did his arms tighten?

  “Yeah. We’d better turn off the heater. If we end up spending the night here it’ll get colder later. We’ll need the heater more then than now.”

  She slid off his lap and first turned off the CD, then the motor. Peering through the soaked windshield she saw the water hadn’t receded. In fact, it seemed to have risen a foot or more. “We’re not going this direction.”

  “No, and we won’t be able go the other way either if it’s this bad here.” He glanced at the clock. 5:45
. “Are you hungry?”

  “No.”

  He focused on her. “You said something weird. You called Brent’s name at the other Durango. Why?”

  Mallory wasn’t sure how to answer. He hadn’t exactly believed her up until now. But this time there was evidence. She met his troubled eyes. “I saw him in Goldfield when we were there.”

  “What? Where?” He didn’t look as if he believed her.

  “I just caught a glimpse,” she admitted. “He ducked between two buildings when we came out of the café.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes. I know what I saw. He spotted me and he jumped behind a corner. I looked right at his face before he hid.” Just like she saw a horse in the desert, just like someone had rifled her room. She knew she wasn’t losing it.

  Mike looked at her for a minute. “Why would he do that? And why would he be in Goldfield?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me,” she said. “Because I thought he was going to work on the rafts.”

  “I bet something came up he had to tell me,” Mike said. “Cell phones don’t work out here. At least mine doesn’t. If he thought something was important enough, he would’ve followed me.”

  Mallory didn’t remind him that his friend had ducked when he saw her. If Mike wanted to believe the best of his friend, then so be it. She wasn’t going to try and convince him otherwise.

  Mike seemed to sense her reservations. “I know him. I’ve known him since college. There’s nothing Brent wouldn’t do for me.”

  Mallory held her tongue. But she had to wonder if Brent would rifle her room, run her down on a horse, or follow her into the desert. Had he found something on the map? That was crazy.

  Get ahold of yourself, Mal. You’re letting you imagination run wild.

  “We’ll find out the truth when the water goes down,” Mike said.

  Mallory doubted it, but she kept her thoughts to herself.