She smiled, but it was shaky. "I'd give an awful lot for a handful of pains like these two."
"Well, now, that's good to know," Wes said softly. And her eyes met his, widened a little, maybe in alarm, he wasn't sure. He'd dropped a pretty heavy-duty hint there. Was it too soon? Would he scare her off?
Jessi cleared her throat, and Taylor looked away. "You know," Jess said, "I've never seen the upstairs. Would you show me, Taylor?"
Taylor nodded and turned toward the stairs. As she led Jessi up, Wes sent his sister a warning glance. She read it, nodded to tell him she wasn't going to push or pry or meddle. But he figured he knew her well enough to know she would anyway.
When they were out of sight, Ben clamped a hand down on Wes's shoulder. "So? You gonna tell me what's going on between you two?"
Wes sighed. "Not much to tell. I'm nuts about her."
"But?"
He looked at his older brother whose shaggy blond mane made him look more rock star than cowboy. Oversize bulk concealing his grace. Unless you caught him at dawn, doing those tai chi moves out on the front lawn, facing the sunrise.
"She doesn't trust me, Ben. I lied to her once and I'm not sure she can get past it now."
Ben pursed his lips in thought. "A person can get past just about anything," he said.
"Not this."
"I know it might seem that way now, but…" His head came up. "Do you trust her?"
"Sure, I do."
"No. I mean, really trust her. Implicitly. Wes, the best way to win her trust is to show her that she has yours. All of it. You can't hold anything back, nothing at all, because as wary as she is, she's bound to sense it if you do. And if she senses you're keeping something inside, how's she gonna be able to trust you?"
Wes frowned as he thought about the things he'd shared with Taylor. And then about the things he hadn't told her. The site of Little Sparrow's grave. The things Turtle had told him today. What he planned to do tonight. He blinked at his brother. "Maybe you're right."
Ben nodded.
"What about you, brother?"
"What about me?"
Wes sighed. "I've been thinking about you a lot the last couple of days." He lowered his head. "I don't think I knew just how bad you must be hurting until…"
"Until you fell in love," Ben said.
Wes nodded. "Yeah. Before now I was just thinking you ought to be getting over … losing Penny. Now … I have to wonder if it's even possible."
Ben's head tipped upward, and he stared at some spot beyond the windows at Wes's back. "I don't think you ever get over losing the woman you love," he said. "You know, Penny and I knew she was dying when we fell in love. We both knew our time together was going to be short, so we filled it with … joy. Just sheer joy. It was the most incredible time of my life."
"But now?" Wes prompted.
Ben met his eyes. "The joy died with her." He drew a deep breath. "She made me promise that I would find someone else, eventually. She said she wouldn't be at peace if I went through the rest of my life alone, mourning her. So I said I would, but you know, I'm sore afraid that's one promise I won't be able to keep. And it's the only promise I ever made to Penny that I broke." He looked at the floor. "I've never told anyone about that before."
Wes nodded, understanding more than he ever had, how his brother must be feeling. "It's only been two years," he said. "Give yourself time, Ben. Don't feel guilty for loving your wife. She wouldn't have wanted that, either."
Ben's lips curved very slightly in a sad half smile. "I hadn't thought of it that way."
"There's plenty of time to keep that promise. Penny would understand."
"Yeah," Ben said. "I guess she would." Then he seemed to shake the deep sadness from his eyes, though Wes was sure it lingered in his heart. "Let's take a walk, have a look at that barn. I'm under orders to organize the volunteers into teams and assign each team to a project."
"Jessi again?"
"You really need to ask?"
"You're good for my brother," Jessi said.
Taylor paused in perusing what would have to be the master bedroom, and looked at Jessi quickly.
"He's always been such a loner," Jessi said. "But he's opening up. I can see it in his eyes. And I think it has a lot to do with you."
"I don't think—" Taylor began.
"He's in love with you. You know that, right?"
Taylor blinked and averted her face. "I think you're jumping to conclusions."
"No way. I know my brother. He's nuts about you. Gosh, Taylor, you mean he hasn't told you yet?"
Taylor licked her lips. "No."
"He will. You give him time, and he will."
"I'm not sure I … want him to."
Jessi touched Taylor's arm, drawing her gaze again. "You mean, you aren't sure how you feel about him?"
Taylor nodded. Then bit her lip, not wanting to insult Jessi by implying her brother wasn't up to her standards. "He's the most incredible man I've ever met," she said slowly, thinking her words through. "I mean … my … uncertainty—it has to do with me, not with Wes."
"It's his job to make you certain," Jessi said, nodding hard. "Apparently he hasn't done it very well, though." She frowned hard. "If he lets you slip through his fingers, I'll never forgive him."
That made Taylor smile. "I guess that's a compliment."
Jessi grinned at her, and ran a soothing hand over Taylor's hair. "You're beautiful, Taylor. And smart. You've touched Wes's heart when nobody else could … well, nobody besides the kids, at least. He's just mush when it comes to Bubba and little Maria. But with everyone else there's always this wall … I don't even think it's intentional on his part, but it's there."
Taylor nodded, listening intently.
"Besides," Jessi said. "You fit."
"I fit?"
"The family," Jessi told her. "You're like a missing puzzle piece. You come to that barn raising on Saturday and you'll see what I mean. You just fit. Trust me, I always know when someone belongs in our family."
Taylor tilted her head. "And you've never been wrong?"
Jessi made an exaggerated pout. "Well … once. About my brother Adam."
"Adam," Taylor said. "I haven't met him, have I?"
"Not yet," Jessi said. "A few years back Adam was engaged to his high-school sweetheart, Kirsten Armstrong. And I was so sure they were perfect for each other…" She shook her head.
"And what happened?"
Jessi sighed. "She didn't show up for the wedding. Left him standing at the altar and just didn't show. We found out later she'd eloped with the richest jerk in the county, a fellow old enough to be her father."
"God, how horrible for Adam," Taylor said.
"It was. Crushed him. Not long after that he headed to the East Coast. Works for a bank there and says he loves being a big-shot executive city slicker. But I know better. He only left so he'd never have to face her again. If he'd stayed, he might have run into her. Not that it's likely. She's like a hermit now. No one ever sees her."
"Still," Taylor said softly, "you were wrong once. Could be you're wrong this time, too."
"Nah," Jessi said. "I know better. Besides, who says I was wrong about Adam and Kirsten? I still feel like I had the right idea with those two, and I get the feeling there's going to be a sequel to that little episode in my brother's life."
Taylor laughed. "You really don't give up easily, do you?"
"I don't give up at all."
* * *
Chapter 14
« ^ »
By the time Jessi and Ben finally finished inspecting the place, and—Wes thought—satisfying their curiosity about his relationship with Taylor, it was well after eleven. And he'd promised Turtle he'd come tonight for…
Well, hell, it sounded too far-fetched to think about, so he let the thought die. Taylor sat on the lowest step of the front porch, watching Ben's taillights fade in the darkness. Wes sat down beside her.
"So…"
She stiffened a
little. It was awkward as hell. She was probably thinking he expected a little more of what she'd given him last night. But he knew better. He just didn't know how to tell her that.
She glanced at her watch.
"It's getting late," Wes said. "You want me to take you back?"
She blinked up at him. "You want to take me back?"
He smiled and decided to be honest with her. "Hell, no, Doc, I want to take you to bed. But it's too soon for that. Last night … last night happened, and I'll never stop bein' grateful it did. But the next time we make love, I'm hoping it will be with no walls still standing between us. No doubt in your pretty eyes."
As he spoke, she stared hard at him, first in confusion and then in some kind of wonder. "You're one special man, you know that? I must be nuts to be dragging my feet this way. Any other woman would—"
"I don't want any other woman," Wes said, and he ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek, as soft as down. "And I don't want you feeling pushed and unsure of me. Take your time, Taylor. Just don't write me off and walk away, okay?"
She lowered her head, swallowed hard. "The funding for this dig runs out on Sunday."
An icy fist gripped Wes's heart. He closed his eyes slowly. Took deep breaths. Counted to ten. Resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and tell her not to go. Shake her until she realized that his feelings were real. Beg her to listen to him for once. Instead he grated his teeth. "And you haven't decided what you're going to do about that yet," he said softly, but there was an edge to his words. Patience had never been his strong suit.
"No. I mean … I just don't know, Wes. There's another job waiting. I could call it off … to stay…"
"If you were sure there was something worth staying for," he finished for her.
She met his gaze, saying nothing. And she was feeling the stress; he could see it building in her eyes. Telling herself to make up her mind, to either trust him or not trust him and just get it the hell over with. Scorning her own insecurities, when they were no more than the results of past heartbreak and his own foolish mistakes.
He didn't want her feeling all that pressure because of him. He drew a deep breath, let it out slowly, relaxed his muscles. "Then I guess I'd best work fast to convince you, hadn't I, Doc?"
She blinked up at him. "This isn't your problem, Wes. I keep telling you that."
"I disagree with you there. Hell, any Don Juan worth his salt would have swept you right off your feet by now. I'm obviously not going about this the right way."
She shook her head, but Wes leaned forward and kissed her mouth very gently. "You stop worrying and leave it to me, Doc. I got connections now. I'll figure things out."
Frowning, she tilted her head to one side. "What kind of connections are you talking about?"
He pursed his lips. Remembered what Ben had said about trusting her first. Nodded his decision. "Turtle says that wolf last night was really a spirit guide. He says it came to let me know I'm … er … a shaman."
Her eyes widened.
"He told me," Wes said slowly, "that what that means is up to me, but that above all, it means I can get in touch with…" He shook his head slowly. "I'm trying to be open about all this, but it feels a little silly."
"It's not silly," she said quickly. And she impulsively pushed his hair away from his face. "It's almost … holy."
"Yeah. And almost insane."
She smiled at him. "You're a little bit scared, aren't you?"
"Scared? Of course I'm not scared. For crying out loud, why would I be—?"
She met his eyes, lifting her brows.
Wes licked his lips. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"I would be, too. Actually I already am. I feel … wrapped up in all of this somehow."
He nodded, understanding why she felt that way. She was wrapped up in it all. "Turtle wants me to come over tonight. I told you he buckled and went back to the trailer, didn't I?"
She nodded. "It's awfully late. Will he still be up?"
"Yeah. Probably already knows exactly when I'll show." Wes shivered a little. Then started in surprise when Taylor slid her hand into his and squeezed, moving herself closer to his side.
"I shouldn't keep you, then. It sounds important."
"Sounds downright creepy."
"I'd offer to come along," she said softly, "but I have a feeling this is something you need to do alone."
He turned her head up with one hand on her chin. "You getting to be as perceptive as Turtle is?"
"As long as you don't start thinking I'm creepy." He touched her nose with his, and her eyes fell closed.
"If … if it gets too intense, and you want to talk," she said.
"I know where to find you, Doc." He kissed her then, lingeringly, and he thought maybe he was making some progress after all.
Because he'd told some of his secrets. But not all of them. There was one secret that simply wasn't his to tell.
When he arrived at Turtle's place, the old man had set up the tepee in the front lawn, and was sitting patiently outside it, waiting as if he'd never had any doubt Wes would show.
"What happened?" Wes asked when he approached the old man. "You get so attached to that thing you decided to keep sleeping in it?"
Turtle shook his head. "You are late."
"I was with Taylor. Sorry about that."
The old man only shrugged. "The night is good. Clear. There is still time." He got to his feet and looked at Wes as if waiting for him to do something.
Wes looked back, lifted his hands. "What?"
"The sweat lodge is ready for you, Raven Eyes. But you are not ready for it."
"I…"
"Take off your clothing." When Wes gaped, Turtle grinned and shook his head in silent amusement. "If you wish, I will turn my back, Raven Eyes, though if you are that painfully shy, this is the first time you've shown it."
"Very funny," Wes said, and he stripped right there on Turtle's front lawn, thanking his stars the trailer was on a deserted bit of back road. Turtle gave him a towel to anchor around his hips, and then held the tepee's flap open. And Wes felt the heat hit him in the face hard enough to knock him to his knees when he peeked inside. He saw the pit of glowing coals in the center of the tepee. Saw the woven mat where he was to sit, and ducked inside, feeling as if he'd just been shoved into an oven.
Turtle came in behind him, wearing no more than Wes was, and carrying a pail of water. As Wes sat silently, Turtle used a wooden ladle of some sort to spoon water over the red-hot coals, sending wafts of steam into the air. And Turtle kept this up until the steam became too thick to see through.
"This purifies the body," he explained, and he was a voice in the mists now. Invisible. Like a spirit. "You must prepare yourself before attempting to communicate with the spirits. Sit in silence. Empty your mind. Release every thought."
Wes tried to do that. It was hot as hell, but within a short time he forgot about that. His brain got hazy. He smelled something pungent and sweet, and wondered what sorts of mystical—quite possibly illegal—herbs Turtle had sprinkled over the coals to add their scents to the mix. He felt his hair growing damp, then clinging to him. His skin was soaked in the steam and his own sweat. The temperature was soaring in here, and still getting hotter. And time seemed to stop moving. He could no longer tell if he'd been in the tepee for a half hour or a half a day. And since he couldn't see in the mists, he closed his eyes and opened his mind. And the scent of the herbs got stronger and made him cough.
"Speak to the spirit of the wolf when he shows himself to you, Raven Eyes. Ask him your questions."
Wes moved his mouth to say he would, but no sound emerged. His head was swimming, and he thought it might be heat exhaustion. How long had he been in here, anyway? He opened his eyes, but couldn't see anything. Not Turtle or the tepee's sides or even those glowing coals. There was only the steam. Thick, swirling clouds of it, encompassing him. And as he strained to see through the stuff, it formed itself into a shape. The shape … of
a wolf.
Wes blinked and looked again. Tried to breathe deeply and calmly. But the apparition was still there, a wolf-shaped cloud with glowing red eyes that might have been embers … or might not.
"W-wolf spirit?" Wes asked slowly, uncertainly. A distant, ghostly howl was his answer. And the eyes glowed a little brighter.
Wes cleared his throat. Okay, he was here, he was hallucinating, he might as well run with it. "H-how can I win Taylor's trust without betraying the secrets of … of my people?" he asked. Because more than anything else, this was what he wanted to know.
The mist faded and blended into the rest, and the wolf was gone, and for a minute Wes thought he'd failed, and he closed his eyes in misery. But when he did, he saw a vision, just as clear as if he were watching a movie. He saw Wolf Shadow standing a long distance away, facing a woman who had to be Little Sparrow. They were surrounded by rocks and boulders, like that place where she rested. And as he watched, the camera of his mind seemed to zoom in closer and closer, until he could see the loincloth and bear-claw necklace Wolf Shadow wore, and Little Sparrow's beaded white dress of doe hide. And still closer his viewfinder moved, focusing in on Wolf Shadow's hands. They were moving, lifting something. A pendant on a thong, lowering it slowly around Little Sparrow's neck.
The turquoise heart! That was what it was. That was what he was seeing! But why? What did it mean?
Then, as if to answer his question, his point of view backed away from the hands, widening the angle until he could see only the two faces. But instead of those long-dead lovers, he was seeing his own face. And he was seeing Taylor's. And as the view broadened still further, he saw the clothing change to their own modern dress.
And then the vision faded until it was gone. He saw only darkness. He opened his eyes to see the steam thinning. And light coming through the sides and top of the tepee. And Turtle sitting silently on the opposite side of the pit of cooling stones.
He drew a deep breath, let it out and then started to get up, but the kinks in his back and legs almost put him back on the ground again. He stumbled to the flap, pushed it open and stepped outside.
Maggie Shayne - Badland's Bad Boy Page 18