Pointing Leaf

by Lakes, Lynde

  He glared at her a few more seconds, then turned and left the room as silently as he had entered. She leaped out of bed the minute the door closed and propped a chair under the handle. She got a knife from her supply drawer and tucked it under the pillow. If he came back tonight he would find trouble.

  After she reported to Rad what had happened here tonight, he’d have to believe that Tinihanga was up to no good.

  ****

  Rad turned his collar up against the pre-dawn chill and inhaled the fresh clean smell that remained after the rainstorm had passed. He glanced up at the darkened sky full of stars. With his steaming mug of coffee in hand, he sat down on the porch next to Tukaha. Hero wedged himself between the two men and pressed his head against Tukaha’s hand.

  “You’re up earlier than usual, boss.” Tukaha stroked Hero’s neck. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

  “I had to file my flight plan. I’m flying Toni to Auckland around seven.”

  “You’re bewitched by the little valiant warrior, aren’t you boss?” Tukaha’s leathery face crinkled in amusement.

  “Don’t read anything into this. I’m just protecting my interests.”

  “Right, boss. And I think she is your interest.”

  Rad felt a warm flush creeping up from his neck. He clamped his jaw to keep from lashing out at Tukaha.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, boss. She’s the kind of woman you need. A woman who will challenge you at every turn.”

  “Don’t even joke about that! When I settle down it will be with a Maori woman like Tupuna.”

  “Miss Toni is more like your tupuna than any woman I’ve ever met.”

  Rad gripped his coffee cup so tightly his fingers ached. He didn’t have to be told about the similarity between Toni and his grandmother. Neither minded putting their lives on the line for what they believed in. His tupuna’s determination to hold onto the land had cost her her life. He was afraid Toni’s determination might cost her hers, too. That was why he had to go to Auckland with her. If she stumbled onto something, he wanted to be there.

  Spending more time alone with her was risky, but he refused to allow his physical attraction to the pakeha rule his mind. Long ago he had decided the woman who would share his bed for life would also share his heritage.

  He stood abruptly, slamming his empty coffee mug against the railing. The china didn’t break, but the loud crack sounded flat, final, like his decision. “Tell Toni to meet me at the truck at seven sharp!”

  Stomping down the steps, Rad glanced at the old polutukawa tree next to the orch. Did its abundance of red flowers signify blood yet to flow? He shook his head, determined not to allow an ancient Maori superstition to hex him. He strode toward the shearing barns, trying to shove the omen and Toni from his mind.

  Chapter Twelve

  With both hands wrapped around a cup of steaming coffee, Toni watched Tukaha flip a pancake into the air He spun around on his boot heels and caught it on his spatula, grinning like a cross-eyed monkey.

  She applauded, appreciating the joy the old man got from everything he did, and the joy he brought to her.

  Although she’d only snatched a few hours sleep, she’d revved herself up and was ready to make every hour count. Tinihanga’s visit last night and the two earlier attacks were meant to scare her off. They’d merely made her more determined, more energized. Already this morning, she’d met with her field man, Damon. He reported that all had been quiet along the fence line. Torn between the two leads she’d wanted to follow, and time a factor, she delegated her interview of Maria Te Pano to Damon. Dirty Damon loved the ladies, and, according to him, he had a way with them. His devilish grin spread from ear to ear when she’d asked him to make a call on Maria. He’d heard Tinihanga speak of his woman and had seen the pictures of her over his bunk. Damon had already sized her up as “one fiery number.”

  She didn’t ask what ploy he would use to get the interview, or how he’d charm the needed facts from her. But, so he wouldn’t get too carried away, she stressed he had to handle the job quickly and return to his vigil guarding the sheep.

  Toni borrowed a .38 from the arsenal Damon kept in the storage compartment of his truck. She wished she’d had it last night. Perhaps she should tell Tukaha about Tinihanga’s uninvited visit. No, the intrusion was something for Rad to handle.

  She stared at the plate of golden pancakes Tukaha placed in front of her. He refilled their cups with coffee, then sat down across the table. His dark, muddy eyes brightened, waiting for her to taste the pancakes, clearly seeking her approval. She reached for the kiwi preserves.

  “The pancakes are golden and fluffy,” she said, relived he hadn’t burned them like he usually did the toast.

  Tukaha grinned. “The boss is flying you to Auckland. He’ll meet you at the truck in twenty minutes. It’s just a short drive to his landing strip.”

  She was dressed right in slacks and turtle neck sweater. Sometimes private planes were drafty and dusty. “Great! Flying will save time.”

  “Maybe save his nerves, too. He needs to get away from here once in a while.”

  “I don’t think he believes that.” Toni smiled. “But I have a hunch something important will come of the trip.”

  “Ae. I’m hoping that, Miss.”

  Hero curled up against her boots. Toni felt a fondness for him she wouldn’t have believed possible.

  The crinkles at the corners of Tukaha’s eyes deepened. “Glad to see that you two have become friends.”

  Toni stroked the dog’s silky coat. As she bent, the mint green scarf around her neck brushed his head, and he looked up at her with big, affectionate eyes. “We owe our lives to you, Hero,” she said softly.

  “Rad taught him well,” Tukaha said with pride in his voice. “When he lived with his grandmother, he had another dog, Watea. Hero embodies Watea’s spirit, and having him around is good mana.”

  “It turned out to be good luck for us yesterday.” Toni paused between eating bites of pancake. “Are Rad’s parents alive?”

  Tukaha nodded. “Ae. They had busy schedules and traveled a lot, so he spent most of his time with his grandmother until some lowlife shot her.”

  “Rad hasn’t said much about his grandfather. What was he like?”

  “Mr. Burton was an English seaman. He met Rad’s grandmother and immediately fell under the spell of her beauty and wisdom. They married and settled here. He did some gold mining and a little of this and that. In time, he became a top notch sheepman. Almost as good as the boss.”

  “Was Rad’s father a rancher?”

  “No. Jim Murdoch, also an Englishman, was the curator at The Museum Of Arts in Rotorua.”

  “What about his mom?”

  “Smart as a whip. She was the director of the Maori Cultural Center in Rotorua for years. And even though her blood is mixed, she has that striking Maori beauty like her mother.”

  Toni thought of the Maori sculpture Rad had carved with such care. Like his father and grandfather, he, too, adored an exotic brunette. The taste for dark eyes and ebony hair must run in the family.

  She sighed. What would it be like to be dark and gorgeous like that? To be loved like that?

  Toni pushed her plate aside. “Where are his parents now?”

  “England. Years after his grandmother’s murder, when the boss was about ten, the family moved to America. Later, they moved to London to live in Rad’s father’s family home. It was while in London Rad obtained that fine education of his. But he’d always longed to return to New Zealand, the land of his roots.”

  “So he left his parents and came here?”

  “Ae. After college, he returned to New Zealand to reclaim the Maori part of himself. He worked and saved for the day he could buy land. When he discovered his grandparent’s stolen land was coming up for auction, he knew what he had to do.”

  “You think he did the right thing, don’t you?” Toni stood and took her plate to the sink.

  “With his Maori heart, he co
uldn’t do anything less.”

  Toni found Rad’s heritage fascinating. It was like two drops of ink, one red, one blue. Once mixed, it became impossible to know where one shade stopped and the other began. His dual heritage had combined into a vibrant purple hue, the color of passion. Her heart thumped wildly. The more she learned about this complex man the more she wanted to know.

  She glanced out the window, building up the courage to ask about the sculpture. But she waited too long. “There’s Rad. I’d better go. Thanks for breakfast.”

  For now, her question about the Maori woman would have to wait. Toni gave Tukaha a hug and quick kiss on the cheek. Grabbing her jacket and purse, she hurried out the door; the purse was heavy with the weight of the .38 revolver.

  ****

  “Morning, Rad,” she said, approaching the truck. She wanted to blurt out that Tinihanga had been in her room, but she waited, fearing the incident might anger Rad and delay their trip to Auckland. They couldn’t afford that. Time was ticking away.

  The early sunlight sparkled on Rad’s hair like blue-black diamonds. His gaze met hers as he held the door open. The glints of gold in his eyes accentuated the brown, deepening it to an umber, the color of the rich soil he loved.

  “I’m glad you decided to go with me.”

  “No problem.” His deep voice tightened, as though he were fighting unwanted feelings. “I thought it might speed up the investigation.”

  “It will.” She couldn’t help staring at him, couldn’t help wondering about the emotion that had him wound so tightly.

  It was the first time she’d seen him wearing anything but jeans. His custom-tailored black slacks were tucked into his spit-polished dress boots and he wore a white V-neck cardigan. He looked too good. It unnerved her to be with such an earthy, sexy man.

  When she hoisted herself into the seat, he closed the passenger door and strode to the other side of the truck. She watched him as he slid behind the wheel. Even doing the simplest things, his movements were strong, decisive.

  An image merged with her thoughts: A black stallion leaped a chasm. His mane streamed in the wind. She remained mesmerized as the mane became flowing black hair and the stallion became Rad. The muscles in his bare thighs flexed as he ran toward her with powerful arms outstretched. She swallowed. Why did Rad always conjure up such sensual visions?

  Slowly, she became aware that the truck was in motion, and they were heading toward the landing strip. Rad gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

  Such a grim profile. What went on in his head when he grew silent? From what Tukaha had told her he was like a moth caught in a jar that was too small. An unending, invisible wall curved around him, closing him off from the world. He was imprisoned by his dual heritage, Maori and English, pulled between them, unable to feel completely comfortable in either.

  She searched for something cheery to say. In the side mirror, she watched the carved wooden arch that marked the front of his property fade into the distance.

  “Tukaha said you did all the woodwork on the property yourself.”

  “It’s a way to record the Maori legends I learned from my grandmother.”

  “It must have taken years.”

  “Kept me out of mischief.”

  “Somehow I doubt that. I see you as a man who loves to be in the center of the mischief.”

  Rad glanced at her. His eyes, fringed with dark, thick lashes, were the warmest, sexiest, she had ever seen. “Not true. I strive for harmony.”

  Toni clenched her hands and stared at the rose-pink polish on her thumbnails. She couldn’t go on with the light chitchat any longer, not with Tinihanga on her mind. How do you tell a man one of his best friends is pure evil?

  She swallowed. “Did Tinihanga look surprised to see you this morning, surprised you weren’t still trapped in the bore?”

  “Look,” Rad said, “I know you don’t like my foreman, but—”

  “He came into my room last night.”

  “What?” Rad took his attention off the narrow dirt road long enough to glance at her sharply. The truck swerved; he corrected, then held it steady. “You’re not serious?”

  “Dead serious.”

  Rad wrinkled his brow. “Why? What did he say?”

  “Nothing. He just stood at the end of my bed and glared at me.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” Uncertainty tightened his voice.

  “Because he left as quickly as he came.”

  “How did he get in?”

  Rad interrogated her like a prosecuting attorney. Did he doubt her instead of Tinihanga?

  “He must’ve had a key.”

  “Yesterday was a traumatic day.” Rad’s deep voice assumed a tone of reasoning. “You were exhausted. Maybe you dreamed it.”

  “He was there! I turned on the light and saw him as plainly as I see you now.”

  “But why?”

  “Maybe to kill me. Perhaps because I was awake and able to scream, he decided it wasn’t safe to go through with it.”

  “Tinihanga is a rogue, but he isn’t a killer.” Rad’s face darkened, and a flush crept up from his neck.

  “Your unreasonable loyalty to him is exactly why I didn’t call you last night. He was in and out so quickly. I knew unless you saw him yourself, you wouldn’t believe it.” Toni’s stomach knotted in frustration.

  “Face it, you don’t like Tinihanga, so perhaps you had a nightmare about him. Sometimes those things can seem very real.”

  “I was awake. He was there!”

  “All right. If you’re sure you were awake, that’s good enough for me. But suppose we consider some reasons for his actions before we hang the man.”

  She felt like screaming. Once Rad gave his loyalty to someone it was unshakable. An admirable quality in a husband, but in this situation it was maddening. “For instance?” she said, with as much composure as she could muster.

  “You’ve had some bad things happen to you in the last few days, and Tukaha is a worrier. Maybe he sent Tinihanga to check on you to be sure you were all right. That would explain how Tinihanga got the key to your room. Tukaha has all the keys.”

  “Even Tukaha wouldn’t come into my room without knocking.”

  “Maybe Tinihanga knocked, and you didn’t hear him. It made him doubly concerned.”

  “It doesn’t wash, and you know it!” She closed her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

  “When we get back I’ll talk to Tinihanga and get to the bottom of this. If there isn’t a mighty good explanation, good friend or not, he’ll get his walking papers.”

  “What explanation could he have?” Frustration choked her. “Think about it. The man has $50,000 in gambling debts. He told someone on the phone that something would happen yesterday, and it did. We were attacked and thrown in a bore. He entered my room at night uninvited. What more do you need to prove he’s in with the rustlers?”

  Rad’s eyes filled with such knowing sadness that she wished with all of her heart she was wrong.

  He expelled a long breath. “You’re right. The circumstantial evidence mounting against Tinihanga doesn’t look good. But I can’t throw away a lifetime friendship without giving him a chance to tell his side. Please, let us set this aside until I can get the facts.”

  Apparently, Rad had conceded as much as he was capable of. For now it would have to be enough.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The silence that fell between them wasn’t a good one. She felt the need to fill it with light conversation. “So tell me the story behind the carvings over your entry gate.”

  His scowl evaporated; a small smile played at his lips. “It depicts Maori concepts.”

  Toni exhaled. Good. The storm was over for now. She liked that he wasn’t the kind to hold a grudge. “Such as?”

  “That the whole of life is bound together in a unified vision in which every aspect of living is related to every other.” A look of inner peace softened his strong, hand
some profile.

  “So making war and making love are related?” Her face warmed. Considering the warring and chemistry that surged between them, comparing those two things asked for trouble.

  “Extraordinary comparison, Miss Conners.” He grinned. “And true. But there’s more. For instance art, religion, making a living, and even death are an integrated pattern on a single fabric.”

  His voice had taken on an ethereal quality. It soothed her to listen to his Maori beliefs. She wished she could hold on to her sudden feeling of serenity. It’d be wonderful to learn about all of his beliefs, to hear a lifetime of Maori stories.

  She didn’t understand the deep bond she felt with Rad. She only knew she couldn’t let this proud man lose his land, the symbol of his heritage. “There’s something devious going on between the people at the management corporation, your mortgage holder, and the rustlers,” she said. “We must find the connection.”

  “We’d probably do better looking for clues at the ranch, the scene of the crime. This’ll no doubt be another wild goose chase.”

  She arched a brow. “If you believe that, you don’t have to go.”

  “You’re doing it again.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Reading the wrong meaning into my words.”

  A harsh comeback burned her tongue. If she let loose with it, he might change his mind about flying her to Auckland. And she needed to check things out there today. She pressed her lips together and stared straight ahead.

  They passed several hangers. She heard the roar of the Cessna engine before she saw the airplane and the man in blue coveralls standing next to it. Rad spoke to him briefly before he helped her climb aboard.

  Rad stayed quiet during the flight, only speaking to point out such things as land boundaries, his and others. He was consumed with the business of flying the plane. She wondered what it would be like to be the object of his undivided attention, his passion. She fought the sudden tingling that electrified the nerve endings throughout her body.