Desert Heat

by D'Ann Lindun

  Chapter Nine

  Mallory yawned and stretched. “Sorry.”

  By 10:00 it became more than apparent no one was coming to look for them.

  They weren’t going to cross the ravine. Although the rain had finally let up, the wash still ran like the Colorado River, fast and high. After they spread out the sleeping bag across the folded-down back seats, they ate cold hamburgers left over from lunch, briefly listened to the radio and played a few games of cards on a deck Mike found in the glovebox.

  “No reason to apologize.” Mike stuck the cards back in their box. “Are you ready to try and get some sleep?”

  “I think so,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”

  He indicated the covers. “You take the sleeping bag and stay back here. I’ll take the blankets and go up front.”

  “No.” She picked up the blankets. “I’ll go. You’re too tall to fit up there.”

  “You’re not that much shorter than me.” Mike took the edge of the blankets. “Let’s both stay here. We’ll separate the covers and each stay on our own side.”

  She wanted to scream no, that her entire body sang awareness of him, that he was too big, too male, and entirely too close in the small space. “Fine.”

  He let go of the blankets. “I’ll go up front and run the heat for a little bit while you get settled.”

  Mallory waited until he climbed up to the front seat and started the motor. Then she folded the sleeping bag, slipped inside, placed her glasses nearby and closed her eyes. Weary just a few minutes before, she was now wide awake. The carpeted surface under her make-shift bed felt like rocks under her hip and shoulder. Mike turned on the radio to a classic rock station. Heart sang Dog and Butterfly. Mallory grinned when he joined in, off key.

  He waited for several minutes, then asked, “All set?”

  “Yes.”

  The radio went silent and then the engine. Mike climbed over the seat and folded his two blankets. He got between them, facing her, and only about six inches separated them. He still looked peaked. She reached out and touched his cheek. He was warm, but not feverish.

  His eyes darkened.

  Her own temperature rose. She touched her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. If he moved just a few inches closer he could kiss her. She slid a fraction of an inch toward him.

  He reached out and smoothed a piece of hair off her cheek.

  Her stomach tightened. This wasn’t smart. He had almost drowned a few hours ago. She was worried about him, nothing more. A kiss or two might help him forget the trauma.

  His hand slid around the back of her neck and threaded into her tangled hair.

  Her eyes drifted shut. Maybe just one kiss. Only to make sure he was on the road to recovery. Nothing more. She moved another eighth of an inch.

  Pulling her head close, his lips brushed hers.

  She parted her lips. Once she made sure he was all right they would stop. Just one kiss. Another tiny maneuver and their lips met. Just one tiny kiss.

  He covered her mouth with his and tasted her. He teased the corner of her mouth, but didn’t try to enter. Why? She touched the tip of his tongue with hers, then did it again when he tightened his hold on her hair. He let her take the lead and she tormented him, teasing him with the promise of a deep, lasting kiss, then darting away. He tried to capture her, but she kept up the game until he moaned.

  With one hand wrapped in her messy curls, he unzipped the sleeping bag with the other. With the nylon barrier no longer dividing them, he scooted closer so that their bodies pressed together. His erection pressing against her belly told her exactly how much he wanted her. If he had any ill effects from his near-drowning, he masked them well.

  Lying face-to-face, her breasts squashed into Mike’s chest, their legs intertwined, she wanted to feel his skin with her fingertips. She reached for the hem of his shirt but he beat her to it, leaving her mouth long enough to jerk the cotton tee over his head. With slow, curious strokes she explored his chest. Her fingers skimmed downy soft hair and firm muscles underneath. She spread her hand wide over his left pec, liking the strong, steady heartbeat she felt there.

  There was more to discover.

  Her palm slid for the waistband of his trunks.

  No longer content to let her tease him, he dunked his tongue deep into her mouth to play his own version of cat and mouse with her. With a firm grasp in her hair, he held her fast. His other hand reached for her breast. He held her over her clothes, and the sensation of his firm, gentle grip nearly undid what little control she had. He squeezed and she cried out, the sound muffled by his mouth over hers.

  Untangling his fingers from her hair, he slid them down, settling his palm on the curve of her hip. Mallory shifted slightly to her back, and felt something under her spine. Drawing away from Mike, she reached to smooth out the lump. Her fingers curled around something familiar. Her purse. She’d placed it in the back when they’d put the seats down to make the bed.

  Reality crashed over her.

  The missing map.

  She had just kissed the man who was protecting someone who had stolen her property.

  Stupid move.

  Trusting him was a big mistake. She sat up and ran both hands through her hair, pushing it off her face.

  “What’s wrong?” The concern in his voice nearly changed her mind. But men had fooled her before.

  “Nothing.” She fiddled with the strap of her bag. “We better stop before we go too far.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” The tone of his voice said he didn’t agree.

  Avoiding his puzzled eyes, she knelt and straightened her sleeping bag, stuffing her purse inside. She wiggled in and covered her head, once again zipping it tight. Keeping her purse strap wrapped firmly around her wrist as a reminder that she really didn’t know Mike, she tried to ignore her swollen lips and jumping nerves.

  ~*~

  Mallory woke up feeling like one big aching bruise. Her whole body hurt. She liked the outdoors, and camping, but she could do without the sore body that came along with it.

  She peered over the edge of her cocoon and retrieved her glasses. Putting them on, she saw she was alone. Where was Mike? Probably answering the call of nature. She crawled out of the warm blankets and shivered when the cool air hit her. She tugged on her jacket and reached in her purse for a brush. A hot shower would make her feel like a new woman, but in the meantime untangling her hair would have to do.

  As she was tying her shoes, Mike lifted the hatch. “You’re up. Good.”

  A light stubble covered his chin and his blond hair hadn’t had the benefit of a comb. Very sexy. Like the rest of him. His lips, his muscled arms, big hands that made her tingle . . .

  “Yes.” She bent forward and concentrated on folding the blankets and sleeping bag and rolling it back into a tight roll. “Can we cross?”

  “Yes, the water went down during the night.” He took her hand and helped her step out. Brilliant sunlight blinded her for a moment and she blinked. The road looked normal again, with the exception of an empty SUV sitting on the side of it, lodged against a bent palo verde tree. The rain was long gone, the desert back to itself. A puddle on the pavement the only reminder of the storm. A clean, fresh scent hung in the air. The cactus-covered mountains, so spooky the day before, looked completely ordinary in the February morning.

  “I’m ready to go home,” she said. “And none too soon.”

  Something like disappointment crossed his face, just for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive this vehicle? I’ll drive the other one.”

  “Back to the ranch?” She stepped inside.

  He walked to the door and said through the window. “No, Goldfield. If Brent was out here, I want to make sure he’s not sitting there. He’s not . . . never mind. Follow me in.”

  Waiting until he got the other SUV started and turned around, Mallory wondered what he had started to say. Brent wasn’t what . . . mentally stable? Anxious to question the guy herself, she was
dying to hear why he ducked around the corner when he saw her yesterday. Mike could try all day long to defend his friend’s strange actions, but Mallory knew what she saw.

  Mike drove across the now-dry wash and headed toward the tiny town. She stayed close enough to see him, but not so close to run into the back of his car if he had to suddenly brake. Goldfield rushed up out of nowhere. Why had it seemed so much further going away from it? Shrugging a little, Mallory parked beside the other Durango, angled in front of the same café as the day before and stepped out.

  Mike waited at the door for her and opened it. She stepped inside and waited a minute until her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. Faye stood in almost the identical spot as the day before, staring at the same TV. Bob Barker and his Beauties filled the screen. Faye turned around.

  “Mornin’, folks. So, I see you survived the flood.” She picked up the coffee pot. Bet you’re starvin’. There’s hotcakes and sausage. Or scrambled eggs, bacon, and Texas toast. That’s it.”

  “How did you know we were stuck behind the flood?” Mallory sat in the exact spot she had the day before, Mike across from her.

  Faye poured them each coffee. “Because that nice young man walked in and told me he got stuck in the middle of it. Figured you’d be coming back. I knew you wouldn’t be able to cross. Did you go back to Goldfield, then?”

  Mallory nudged him with her elbow in an “I told you so” way.

  “We couldn’t.” Mike lifted his cup and drank deeply. “Man, that tastes good. We got stranded in between two flash floods and we spent the night in the backseat of the Durango.”

  Faye grinned. “Not a wasted night, then.”

  Mallory felt a hot blush on her neck and cheeks. His words, completely innocent, insinuated they made love. Not the case, but too close for comfort. She shoved her glasses up her nose. “You saw Brent? When? Where did he go?”

  Faye looked at the door. “I don’t know, but you can ask him. He’s right there.”

  They spun around and watched Brent and Dianna enter.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay.” Dianna threw her arms around Mike’s neck and pressed her lips to his. When he didn’t respond, she drew back a fraction. “We were so worried.”

  Mallory watched the interchange, her stomach churning. Dianna had as much as said they were lovers. Last night, Mike had almost made love to her. Did he sleep with whoever was available?

  Brent stood beside her, his chin hanging to his skinny chest.

  “We’re fine,” Mike assured her. “I got a little wet, but no damage done.”

  “Why did you get wet?” Dianna’s eyes were hard. “Did you get out in the rain?”

  “I waded across the creek to make sure no one was inside the stuck SUV. I fell mid-stream on the way back.” He said it quietly, without blame.

  “He nearly drowned.” Mallory wasn’t going to sit by and let him pretend it hadn’t been a near-disaster.

  “I’d say they had a wild time.” Faye poured more coffee. “Between taking a swim and spending the night in the car, it was a rough one.”

  Dianna’s lips tightened as she straightened and looked at Mallory. “You didn’t turn around and go back to Goldfield?”

  “Couldn’t,” Mike said. “We were stuck right between two floods. We hunkered down until we could cross. Besides, there’s nothing back there. You know that.”

  Mallory pasted on her most innocent smile. “We had to share one sleeping bag.”

  Dianna glared at her, then turned her attention back to Mike. “As long as you’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

  “We’re fine. A little tired, but nothing a nap at home won’t cure.” He glanced at Brent. “I brought the other vehicle. Was it you who drove it out here?”

  Indecision flitted across his face. “Yeah. I’m sorry I got it stuck. I thought I could cross, but I got halfway and the current pushed me against the tree. I climbed out the passenger side and waded to the bank on the town side. I couldn’t do anything, so I hiked back here and called Di. She came and picked me up.”

  “Why didn’t you come look for us?” Mike’s voice held an edge.

  Brent looked shamefaced. “I couldn’t. I had to get back to the ranch.”

  “Why did you hide when I saw you yesterday?” Mallory pinned her best mean teacher look on him.

  His gaze skittered away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yesterday, when Mike and I came out of this establishment, you spotted me and dodged into the alley.” Her voice rose a bit. “Don’t deny it. I saw you.”

  Pale pink stained his gray skin. “I didn’t notice. I was trying to catch up with a buddy of mine. He was walking ahead of me. My mind was on him, and I didn’t pay attention to anything else.”

  Mallory held in a snort. In a town the size of this one, you could toss your dirty socks from one end of it to the other without even trying. The black Durango with The Jumping Cholla stenciled in big gold letters parked on the main drag had to be a little hard to miss. “I see.”

  “Who were you visiting?” Mike’s voice held a note of disbelief.

  “Does it matter?” Dianna took the seat next to Mike. “All that’s important is that everyone is safe. Does the SUV have any damage?”

  “A small dent where it rammed into the tree.” Mike answered her, then focused on Brent. “I’m just curious. Who did you come out here to see? Anyone I know?”

  “Yeah. Jimmy. You know, the guy who runs the Salt River Rafting? The SRPL nuts have him shut down, too. He called and wanted me to go boating on Canyon Lake with him. I didn’t have a lot to do, so I agreed. I never got there because I got stuck in the ravine.”

  To hide her skepticism, Mallory looked around for sweetener. Seeing some on a nearby table, she rose to retrieve it. She didn’t believe one word. Who went boating in the rain? Nobody. Lightning could strike or the waves come up and capsize a boat. No one with any sense went out on a lake in a storm. And Brent was knowledgeable about boats. He was in charge of rafting at The Cholla.

  Faye said, “You folks gonna eat, or you going to stand around and gab?”

  Mallory grabbed her sweetener and took her seat. She ordered the hotcakes, hoping she could choke them down. Mike must not have been in a similar predicament because he put in a double order. Faye filled their cups and moved away. She perched on the edge of her stool and stared at her show.

  “So, did you find what you were looking for?” Dianna looked at her, but Mallory could’ve sworn the question was directed to Mike. Her mind was playing tricks on her again. What could Mike be looking for?

  “Yes. I wanted to understand my father a little better. I think I accomplished that.”

  “He loved it out here,” Brent said. His sunken eyes looked a little damp. “The freedom, the way he lived.”

  “Like a bum? With nothing but the clothes on his back and a burro?” Mallory’s voice was a little harsher than she intended.

  “He didn’t have a lot of possessions, but he was happy.” Brent held his cup with both hands and stared into it. “If a man dies with that, then he’s had a full life.”

  “Even if he turns his back on everything that should matter to him?” Scorn filled her tone. “What if the price for your own happiness is someone else’s? Who’s more important?”

  No one met her eyes.

  Realizing she’d shared too much, she snapped her mouth shut.

  Faye set a steaming plate of buckwheat pancakes in front of her, but Mallory’s appetite had fled. She was twenty-seven years old. Much too mature to feel resentment over something that happened years ago.

  Her head knew it, why didn’t her heart agree?

  Chapter Ten

  The minute Mike parked, Mallory excused herself and headed inside for a shower. Her door was locked, just as she’d left it. Nerves humming, she opened the door and stepped inside. Everything looked okay. Just to be sure, she checked in the closet and the bathroom. Her clothes and toiletries were exactly as she’d left t
hem.

  She closed the bathroom door and locked it. Dropping her dirty clothes on the floor, she turned the shower on and stepped in. The hot water poured over sore muscles and she leaned against the tile wall, letting the steam relax her. She shampooed and washed with her favorite mango-mandarin scented gel then stepped out and dried off. A sound in the bedroom alerted her she wasn’t alone.

  Someone was going through her room.

  She drew the towel tight about her and cracked the door. The hinges squeaked, tipping off whoever was there. Without her glasses, Mallory only caught a glimpse of a white shirt and jeans as the person bolted out of her room. The door slammed behind the culprit. Mallory leaped after him, grabbing her glasses off the night stand on the way by. By the time she got them on, opened the door, and into the hall, no one was around.

  Palms sweaty, she tucked in the top of her makeshift robe and rested against the wall. Maybe she ought to leave. Someone was snooping or at the very least, lurking. Of the people she knew on the ranch, Dianna seemed the most likely. She hadn’t been shy about marking Mike as her territory. Resorting to sneaking around didn’t seem in her nature. She’d been direct about her feelings. She seemed to be more likely to confront face-to-face than sneak around behind your back.

  Shelby and Alan seemed too wrapped up in each other to be any danger to anyone. As far as she could tell, they didn’t have any reason to want her gone. Shelby’s concern over Mallory’s injured hands had seemed genuine. Alan wasn’t overly friendly, but he didn’t seem to be the lurking type.

  Brent hadn’t made any bones about not liking the fact that she was concerned about the environment. But, Mallory couldn’t see any reason he’d want to follow her or sneak into her room. She still didn’t believe his story for being in Goldfield and stuck in the flash flood. Although she had trouble picturing him rifling her things, he stood out as the most likely to do so. The question was why? Had he taken the map, and not Mike?

  Mike.

  She didn’t want to believe he would search her room, not once, but twice. What could she have that he could possibly want? The half of the map sewn in Skeeter’s pant leg was gone. Did he think she had the other side? It made sense. He’d probably taken the half from her purse and come back for the missing part. Her chest felt too tight and she sat in the chair by the desk with a thud.