Pointing Leaf

by Lakes, Lynde

  The tremor in her voice stirred emotions, and a pulse of tension tightened his jaw muscle. This was his fault. He hadn’t anticipated the attack. But Toni had. She knew her business. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until the lariat knocked the gun from her hand that he’d realized she’d drawn it. His guilt diminished as reality washed over him. The attack had come too quickly for them to react. They hadn’t had a chance in hell to ward it off.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Stay close to me. When the sun goes down the temperature drop will be unbearable. Franz Josef Glacier will be warm in comparison.”

  “Nothing like regaining consciousness to good news.” Her voice wavered.

  Her tough retort didn’t fool him, yet he admired her grit. “We have to get out of here.”

  “How?”

  The vulnerability in her tone strengthened his growing protective instinct. He frantically twisted at the ropes on his wrists. He expanded his chest in anger. “Are your hands tied?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right.” He inhaled. “Stay calm.”

  “I am calm,” she said in an infuriatingly reasonable tone.

  “Good. Then do exactly as I say. Our lives depend on it. Move my jacket aside with your head, then put your tongue into my shirt pocket.”

  “What did you say?” Her voice rose as if in disbelief.

  “There are two whistles in there. Work the thin wood one out slowly, catch the rounded end with your teeth, then put the narrow lip-piece into my mouth.”

  “The dogs! How clever. But will they hear the call to action from down here?”

  Her instant grasp of how he planned to use the whistles warmed his heart. “You’d better hope so. It’s our only chance.”

  Rad closed his eyes as she pushed his jacket aside with her nose. He felt the heat of her breath filter through his shirt. He couldn’t stop the reflexive tightening in his groin. She worked the whistles to the top of his pocket with her nose. He shook his head. Even though it wasn’t the way he’d instructed, her method worked. He fought his quick arousal. “Could you hurry it up?”

  She stiffened, and her movements turned rough. Silent hostility radiated from her like a heater set on high. Her upward stroking from the bottom of his pocket brushed his nipple. Oh, hell. She was giving him a hard time and probably enjoying every minute of it.

  Under different circumstances she’d be in real trouble. But this wasn’t a bedroom game. This was serious. Tukaha expected them to be gone most of the day, so he wouldn’t worry until dark. When he did look for them, he wouldn’t look here. No one ever came near this bore anymore.

  It was getting cooler, and a dampness rose from the mud floor. He could stand the lower temperatures of nightfall, but what about this townie? She was a soft city woman. He felt her moving against him, very soft. And arousing. He felt an inappropriate heat surge to his crotch.

  “Um!” she said with the whistle between her teeth. Even in the dim light he saw the annoyance in her eyes. Impatient wench. He bent his head until all that separated their lips was the whistle. Her breath was warm and sweet. A fragrance of roses wafted over him as she eased the small wood cylinder between his lips. The unexpected gentleness gave him the sensation of being kissed. Once he had a firm grip on the whistle she moved away. A sense of loss washed over him. He tilted his head upward and blew hard.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” she said.

  He slid the slender cylinder to the side of his mouth to talk. “The sound is higher than human hearing,” he mumbled. “The important thing is that one of the dogs hears it.”

  “We need a back up plan in case the whistle alert doesn’t work.”

  With her back against the wall and using her legs, she pushed herself to a standing position. The dim light was fading; soon he wouldn’t be able to see her silhouette. She moved around, and up and down the wall slowly, inch by inch. Finally she stopped. “Rad, I found a crack. The protruding jagged edge might cut the rope.”

  This spunky pakeha was made of tougher substance than he’d thought. Another woman might have waited for him to get them out. But not her. He hated to admit to how much she was like his grandmother. He’d have to be blind not to see it.

  Rad blew the whistle again, harder, longer. His head ached from blowing so hard. He paused for a second.

  “I’ve looped the rope over the jagged edge!” she said. “Cross your fingers.”

  She tenaciously worked the ropes against the sharp edge. Her rose fragrance floated around him. He’d tried not to like her. The truth was he liked her a great deal. His strong attraction to her didn’t make sense. He wasn’t partial to auburn hair. He liked the long black hair of the Maori women.

  He laughed to himself when he thought of the Maori recipe for choosing a wife. Marry the woman with nimble fingers and feet, one who spends her free time at the flax clumps. Leave alone the woman who is nimble with her lips. While Toni had nimble fingers and feet, she wasn’t the type to spend time at flax clumps. And her aggressive, outspoken lips were as nimble as any woman he’d ever known. What made him think of the saying? He wasn’t in the market for a wife. All he wanted was to get out of there and save his land.

  He blew the whistle again, praying to Atua that the sound wasn’t trapped in the bore with them.

  Toni stood on her toes, sliding her wrists up and down on the sharp edge. Anyone else would’ve given up by now. He didn’t think she’d get loose, but it kept her busy and probably a little warmer. “Give it a rest, and let me give it a try.”

  “Not necessary. I did it!” He felt her hand on his shoulder. “Lean forward. I’ll untie you.”

  He shook his head. She was incredible! He shouldn’t have doubted her. Her deft fingers worked quickly, yanking, pulling. Soon, he felt his ropes fall away.

  “Now how do we climb out of here?” Her tone carried staunch determination.

  “I hate to disappoint you,” he said, standing, “But it’ll take a miracle to get out.”

  “There must be something we can do.”

  Suddenly Rad felt a coolness at his feet. Water seeped up from the mud floor. “We have a new problem.”

  “It’s water!” Her voice rose. “Where’s it coming from?”

  “Must’ve started raining. With a hard, constant downpour the water table rises. I’ve seen as much as two meters seep into a bore in a few hours.”

  “That’s over six feet! We can’t just wait to drown.”

  Rad watched Toni try to get a toehold on the concrete wall. Her boot slipped. He steadied her, so she wouldn’t fall into the water. She’d get soaked soon enough. When she pulled away, he felt that twinge of loss again. Holding her had felt good. For an instant it gave him the illusion he was in control, that he could make everything right for her. The feeling didn’t last.

  “Maybe if we yell someone’ll hear us.” She started yelling. “Help. Help. Down here!”

  She paused, took a breath and started again. Her voice became hoarse. Her efforts proved useless, but he admired her tenacity.

  A rumble of thunder wiped out Toni’s cries for help. Above, lightning flashed and illuminated the lip of the bore.

  Icy water crept up to his knees and Toni’s thighs. She was shivering, yet she didn’t complain. Damn it! Men were supposed to protect women. But how could he fight an ambush he hadn’t seen coming, and how could he get her out of this bore before the water rose over their heads?

  He couldn’t give up on their only chance. He blew his whistle, determined to keep blowing as long as he had a trace of breath.

  Chapter Eleven

  Barking dogs awoke Tukaha. “What the rewera?” he swore, using the devil’s name. He looked around dazed. His newspaper had fallen to the floor. Must’ve dozed off. He stretched and yawned. It was gray outside, inching toward darkness. Where were Rad and Miss Toni? The barking persisted, growing louder, more intense. Tukaha scratched his head, wondering what had upset the dogs.
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  He grabbed his wide-brimmed hat from the rack behind the kitchen door, yanked it down on his head and hurried through the rainfall to the barn. When he opened the door, Hero dashed out and took off around the shed. The other dogs followed, barking.

  The stripped lamb bones on the floor told Tukaha the dogs hadn’t been locked in the barn by accident. Someone wanted them out of the way and had enticed them inside with meat.

  It was then he noticed the saddled stallion and roan by the fence. Their reins hung loosely. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Rad and Toni were in trouble.

  The sprinting dogs zig-zagged back into sight, passed the fenced corrals, and now headed hell-bent across the wet, grassy fields. Tukaha quickly gathered a couple of blankets, a first-aid kit and several long ropes. On horseback, trailed by the roan and stallion, he followed the dogs, now mere dots in the distance.

  ****

  Rad heard a faint, familiar sound. “Listen,” he said hugging Toni to him. The barking came closer. Rapidly, he whistled commands. He kept his arm around Toni’s waist.

  Hero and the other dogs surrounded the top of the bore and barked down at them.

  “Good Hero,” Rad shouted. All the training he’d given him had paid off. “If we’re lucky, Tukaha will be right behind him.”

  “Boss, you down there?” Tukaha called.

  “Ae!” Rad looked up through the darkness of the well. Tukaha and the dogs were silhouetted in the fading gray light above.

  A rope came down on his shoulder. He placed it in Toni’s palm. “You first.” He gripped her waist tightly. “Go hand over hand, and walk your feet up the side.”

  Insistent barking funneled down the well in stereo. Although ear-splitting, it was music to Rad’s ears.

  Toni didn’t move. “You go first,” she said, trying to give the rope back to him.

  He forced her hands around the rope and held them there. The water was rising faster. It lapped at her chin.

  “Time is running out, damn it.”

  “C-come with me.” The hesitation in her voice puzzled him.

  “The rope won’t hold both of us. When you’re clear, I’ll come up. Now go.”

  Holding her waist tightly, he lifted her above the water-line. Her wet boots made slapping sounds on the dry concrete. Rad slid his grip to her hips and boosted her higher on the wall.

  “You don’t have to do that!” she snapped. “I can make it just fine without you.”

  He watched her gritting her teeth as she moved upward, hand over hand, walking the wall. She looked terrified. Was she that afraid of the dogs? If so why didn’t she admit it? Probably because she’d rather be eaten alive by them than admit her fear.

  Her soggy boots slipped several times, slowing the ascent. But she was almost to the top.

  She barely moved now. If she was that afraid of the dogs, the sheep dogs surrounding the rim of the bore probably appeared ferocious. To her the Dobermans were only sharp teeth and slobbering mouths, their teeth bared, ready to tear her to shreds.

  “Rad, I can’t do this.”

  “You’re almost there.”

  “Make the dogs go away, please.”

  Rad recognized the raw terror in her voice. He didn’t understand, but he didn’t argue. The water had risen above his shoulders. There wasn’t time now for her to clear the rope first. He blew the whistle for the retreat and sit-command. Keeping the whistle in his mouth, he started climbing.

  He pulled his body upward easily, going hand over hand, walking the wall. His strength from wrestling sheep made the climb simple. He was only about ten feet from the top. He hoped the lightweight rope would hold, but he could almost hear it fraying as it rubbed against the sharp concrete.

  “I’m clear,” Toni said.

  Rad sighed in relief as Tukaha helped her climb over the lip of the bore. Thank Atua. At least Toni was safe. Suddenly Rad felt the rope give. He hung suspended by threads, not daring to move.

  “Rad!” Toni screamed. She reached for him, but her arm wasn’t long enough.

  Rad blew the whistle and in an instant, Hero was next to Toni with another rope in his mouth. She closed her eyes a moment as though praying for courage, then took the rope from the dog. “Quick, take this,” she said, lowering the rope to him. “Tukaha said he secured it to a steel support.”

  Rad felt grateful for the old man’s quick instincts. He grasped the rope and climbed, his heart thundering until he sat next to her on the edge of the bore, hugging her and Hero at the same time. Wind blew torrents of icy rain against them. But they were safe.

  ****

  Toni felt proteced in the shelter of Rad’s body. He held her and Hero for a moment longer, then pulled away. She shivered when his warmth disappeared. Hero nestled against her as if to make up for the loss. His wet hair smelled doggy, but it didn’t bother her. He likes me, she thought as she smoothed his soggy coat. You lived up to your name, Hero. The younger dogs closed in. Laughing, she petted them.

  Rad embraced Tukaha. “Whakawhetai, faithful friend.”

  Tukaha glanced at the dogs and chuckled. “The thanks goes to Hero. I would’ve never thought to look here for you.”

  Rad turned toward his dogs, looking proud. He smiled, obviously pleased to see her and Hero nuzzling each other. After a moment he called, “Let’s get you to a dry place before you catch pneumonia.”

  She knew the hours in freezing well water had taken their toll, and she wasn’t oblivious to the downpour of rain, but none of that seemed important at this moment. She stiffened at the sound of pounding hooves. “Rad, horses, coming this way!”

  The dogs barked. Rad silenced them. “Might be trouble. Quick, get behind those rocks.”

  Tukaha led the horses out of sight. Toni ran through the sloshy mud, almost tripping over the dogs. Rad steadied her, then pulled her down behind a large boulder and drew her into his warmth. She rested the back of her head against his chest. She heard his rapid heartbeat and felt his body tensed for action. He was a courageous warrior like his ancestors. Although tired, wet, and cold, she could face the danger with him at her side.

  With a start, she remembered her holster was empty. The men who’d attacked them had taken their guns. Only Tukaha was armed.

  Barely visible in the slanting downpour of icy rain, a group of riders came into sight. Toni squinted, trying to see their faces.

  “It’s all right,” Tukaha shouted. “It’s only my sons. How did you find us?” he asked them.

  “We saw you ride out in a fury,” his oldest son said. “Thought there might be trouble. Didn’t want you to face a pack of rustlers alone. Is everyone all right?”

  Toni smoothed Hero’s matted hair and smiled down at him. “Thanks to Hero, we’re fine.”

  “What about me?” Tukaha asked, grinning broadly. Rain poured from his wide-brimmed hat. He held the reins of their three horses.

  Toni went to him and kissed his weathered cheek. His skin was cold and wet. “Thanks, Tukaha. You didn’t really think I could ever forget you?”

  “He wouldn’t let you if you tried,” Rad said, coming up behind her. A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, lining the murky gray clouds with a silver border, making everything above the horizon look like a photo negative.

  Toni turned, right into Rad’s arms, and looked up at him. His dark hair was alive with glistening rain. His eyes were as black as the night, and he’d fixed his gaze on her with a breath-stopping intensity. He bent his head toward her slightly. He was going to kiss her here in front of everybody. She tensed. He stopped, straightened, and forcefully spun her in his arms to face the horse. An absurd disappointment rocked her senses.

  Rad rested his hands on her hips. “We can talk later,” he said boosting her onto the roan. “At home, where it’s dry.” His rough hands were warm, his grip firm. His hold was the feeling of safety and frustration. Toni slid into the curve of the saddle, and then his touch was gone.

  She shivered as rain plastered ringlets of hai
r to her head and face. But the rain and cold didn’t matter. They’d made it out of the bore. If it weren’t for the dogs’ command training, she and Rad would still be down there. She trembled. By now, the water would have risen over their heads.

  In the last five hours, she’d learned a great deal about Rad and about herself. He was even more couregeous than she’d first thought. And, thank God, so was she.

  Rad gave the details of the ambush to Tukaha and his sons as they rode toward the ranchhouse. Toni remained silent, watching for another attack. Her apprehension didn’t ease until they were back at the ranch and she was in bed snuggled under her covers. She’d never appreciated a warm, dry, and safe place more. Tonight she would pamper herself, but tomorrow she’d attack the investigation again, harder than ever. She wasn’t about to let the rustlers get away with dumping them in that well.

  Toni turned over on her side, facing away from the door and tucked her hands under her pillow. It was her favorite position to fall asleep. She wondered if Rad was in bed yet. She’d bet he was a man who slept in the raw, the way he was that night doing pushups beside the pool, sleek, gorgeous, with those tattoos across his hips.

  Suddenly, her bedroom door creaked open. A soft click told her it had closed again. But the door couldn’t have opened. She’d locked it. What if she’d slipped up? Her body went rigid as she listened. Barely discernible footfalls came across the ceramic tile. Someone was in the room! Toni reached for her gun. She’d forgotten it wasn’t under her pillow; she’d lost it to the attackers. Only her holster remained, and the empty and useless container was on the other side of the room. Toni bolted upright and turned on the light.

  Tinihanga stood at the foot of her bed staring at her with dark, bloodshot eyes. Her heart beat out of control. “What do you want?”

  Silence.

  Toni glanced at the lamp on the night stand. Instantly, she gripped its hourglass middle and brandished the base threateningly.

  Tinihanga stepped closer to the bed. His long shadow fell over her. The twitch in his jaw hardened his features. He emitted a sheepy, sweating odor. His wide nostrils flared like a bull about to charge. The only sound that came from him was his breathing. “Get out of here, now!” she said, managing to keep her voice even.