by Kris Bock
“Fair enough.”
She filled the kettle with water. “Do you want tea or coffee?”
“Whatever you’re having. Don’t forget your painkiller. How’s the hand?”
She turned and glared. “I’m not taking anything that will knock me out until you’re out of here.” But he’d remembered, and he cared. She felt her anger slipping away. She wished she knew why Camie had thought he wasn’t dangerous. Erin suspected Drew could be very dangerous—she just wasn’t sure whether he was a danger to her, or what kind.
She busied herself getting out mugs and tea bags, stealing some time to think. She wanted to trust him. Her heart told her to trust him. But could she trust her heart? She’d believed in Craig for five years and realized later that he’d probably been cheating on her before she even left town. She didn’t have experience with the current craziness in her life, or with men like Drew. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
The kettle screamed and she poured hot water over herbal tea bags. She sat across from him and slid his mug over the table. “I have no reason to trust you.” She kept her eyes steady on him. “I don’t know anything about you, except what you’ve told me. I don’t know if any of it is true.”
His brows drew together. Erin held her breath. Would he get angry, defend himself? Play the “I saved your life” card? Storm out? Whatever he said might tell her something about him, if she could only figure it out. She raised her mug to her lips, glad her hand was steady.
His expression cleared. “I know. You can call my mother.”
She almost choked on her tea. “Your mother?”
“Of course. She can vouch for me. Who knows me better?” He fished in his jeans pocket and brought out a phone.
Erin slammed down her mug and held up both hands. “Whoa. Hang on a minute. Do you even know what time it is in Montana?”
“Same as here.” He peered at the phone and winced. “Okay, she may be a bit cranky. I’ll get her calmed down before I put you on.”
“I don’t want to talk to your mother!” Good Lord, what would she say to the woman? Your son is sitting in my kitchen at midnight and I want to know if he’s a violent criminal because he couldn’t possibly be as good as he seems?
“You’ll like her. She won’t be at her best after only a couple of hours sleep, but she’s really nice.”
The boy loved his mother. Well, that was something. And he hadn’t tried to persuade her by bringing up all the things he’d done for her. “Put your phone away.” She took a deep breath. She didn’t have to tell him all her secrets. But given what she’d already told Mitchell, what people around the college seemed to know, a lot of it wasn’t a secret. “Let me tell you about a treasure.”
Chapter 12
Erin sipped her tea while she gathered her thoughts. “You may know that the Spanish have been in New Mexico for centuries. Missionaries came to convert the local Indians, and conquistadors searched for gold and silver. Sometimes the two groups overlapped. Your average Spanish priest didn’t mind a little gold or silver either.”
“Open-minded of them.”
“In the late 1700s, a monk named Felipe La Rue came to New Mexico. He was the son of a rich French nobleman, but rebellious, and one of his rebellions was to join the Franciscan church and take a vow of poverty. As a monk, he kept challenging authority, which got him sent to the New World. He didn’t do much better in Mexico, by the church’s standards, and was often beaten for disobedience. Eventually, he convinced some other monks and Indian converts to follow him north, where they could set up their own colony, free from the church’s strict oversight.”
“I think I’ve heard this story,” Drew said. “Only it was set in New England and the settlers were escaping religious persecution in England.”
Erin smiled. “Same basic idea. La Rue and his followers did all right at first. They made their way to Hembrillo Springs, west of the San Andreas Mountains in what’s now southern New Mexico. They had water, plenty of game, and isolation. They planted corn, dug aqueducts, built a church. And they found gold.”
“Seems like water and food would be more important in those circumstances.”
Erin shrugged. “Seems like no one was immune to gold fever. La Rue assigned some of the monks and Indians to dig the gold. They crushed it, smelted it, and made it into gold bars, which they stacked in a natural cavern.”
“Poverty wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh?”
Erin gave him her best repressive schoolteacher look. “Do you want to hear this story or not?”
“Sorry. I drove my teachers crazy, too. Please go on.”
Erin sipped her tea, trying to get back to the rhythm of the story. “All right. Some years later, the church back in Mexico City learned about Padre La Rue and his gold mine. They thought the gold should belong to the church and sent soldiers to take it. La Rue found out they were coming, so he ordered the mine entrance concealed. When the soldiers asked him where the mine was, he refused to speak. They tied him to a post and whipped him until the flesh hung off his body, but he wouldn’t speak. He died from the torture.”
“Why is history always so gory?”
“I might say, because it’s driven by men, but that’s another topic.”
“Right. Let’s focus on La Rue.” Drew rose, crossed to the kettle on the stove, and topped off Erin’s mug, then his own.
“Some of his followers were also tortured and killed, but nobody would tell where the mine was. The soldiers took the surviving colonists back to Mexico, and the mine was abandoned.”
Erin paused to sip her tea. Her brain felt fuzzy with exhaustion and her right arm ached from finger to shoulder, but she knew the story well enough to tell it in her sleep. “The excitement didn’t end there. The Apache chief Victorio hid out in the area in the 1870s, between raids on wagon trains, mail coaches, churches, whatever.” She gave Drew a sweet smile. “Supposedly he took prisoners back and tortured them before he killed them.”
Drew nodded. “Figures. He was a man, after all.”
Erin chuckled. “Rumor has it that he may have stashed some of his stolen loot in the cave or mine as well. The Calvary killed him in 1880. This was U.S. territory by then. The area of his hideout now carries his name.”
She yawned. “Fast forward to 1937. A man known as Doc Noss stumbled across a mineshaft while hiding from the rain during a hunting trip near Victorio Peak. He came back to explore it and, he said, found a series of rooms that held human skeletons, gold coins, jewels, swords, and guns. Oh, and thousands of gold bars, stacked like cord wood.”
“Wouldn’t want to forget those,” Drew said. “But I thought this was supposed to be a lost treasure.”
Erin gave him a sleepy smile. “Treasures have a way of getting lost even after they’re found. Noss decided to widen the opening to the cave with dynamite.”
“Let me guess—not a bright idea?”
“The blast caused a cave-in and sealed off the treasure.”
“I hate when that happens.”
“Here’s where the story gets a little hazy. Some sources claim that Doc sold off much of the treasure he’d already carried out. Others say there never was any treasure, it was just a scam. Doc used a gold bar to try to lure investors into funding more excavations, but it was nothing more than painted lead. Can you guess how Doc met his end?”
“Does it involve torture?”
Erin chuckled. “Violence, anyway. He was shot to death by a partner during a fight.” Erin yawned again. “There’s more, but those are the highlights. The area where Doc said he found the treasure is now within White Sands Missile Range and off-limits to civilians. Some people claim that the military did a full-scale excavation in the 1960s. The military denies it. Accusations of a cover-up, etcetera. Petitions, lawsuits, blah blah blah. So people are still looking for the treasure.”
“Including you.”
“Including me. And apparently Mitchell. And possibly other persons unknown.” She draine
d her mug and pushed back from the table. “So that’s the story, more or less. Now I really need to go to bed.”
He rose. “Do you want me to stay tonight?”
She gave a weak laugh. “I don’t think I can handle any more excitement tonight.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant for safety. I could sleep on the couch.”
She ran her gaze over him critically. “You wouldn’t fit.”
He grinned. “You could sleep on the couch?”
She was exhausted, anxious, in pain. So why could he make her smile so easily? “Thanks. I really do appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine. And I already have my big strong male protector.”
He frowned for a moment, looking dangerously suspicious, then shook his head with a laugh. “Right, I forgot. Tiger.” He gazed skeptically at the large orange cat dozing under the table. “All right. I guess I’ll just say goodnight.”
He slid his arms around her before she knew what was happening. She looked up at him, her mouth opening in surprise. And then his lips were on hers, warm and firm. Erin moaned and sank into the kiss.
Time slowed. The room seemed to swim around her. It didn’t matter, so long as he held her.
He stroked a hand down over her hip, back up her side. His thumb grazed the side of her breast. Heat flooded her and she pressed against him. Her mind clouded, leaving room for only one thought. Yes.
He traced his lips along her jaw, then nibbled down her throat. She arched back to give him access, pressing her body into his. He gave a pleased murmur, slid his hand over her bottom, and pulled her tighter. Then his mouth was on hers again, diving deeper, heat fusing them together. Erin ran her hands over his shoulders, up his neck, and fisted her hands in his hair.
A jolt of pain shot from her finger all the way to her chest. She yelped and jerked back, tears stinging her eyes.
Drew eased back and studied her, his hands still firm on her hips. “That wasn’t quite the reaction I was going for.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “My finger—”
He took her hand with a sigh. “This damn finger. Ruining it for the rest of the body.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “Yes.” As the pain receded, her sanity returned. She couldn’t believe she’d been plastered all over this man, practically a stranger, in her kitchen. She blushed to think of what might have happened. What almost certainly would have happened, the way her logical brain had shut down. Hesitantly, she said, “Maybe it’s just as well.”
He winced. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Erin took a deep breath. “Because we should probably stop now.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that, too.”
She forced herself to look at his face. She had to know how he would take this. “I like you—that must be obvious. But I don’t—I’m not—” She pushed her good hand through her hair and blew out a breath, trying to find the right words. “Maybe I’ve been trying to be more adventurous lately. But sleeping with a man I’ve just met wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”
“I can understand that.” He lifted her injured hand and pressed a kiss to the knuckles. Erin felt herself tremble, from relief or passion, she wasn’t sure. “I can respect that,” Drew added. He gazed into her eyes, ran a thumb along her jaw. His lips curved in a slow smile. “But I hope we get to know each other quickly. I want you, Erin.”
She stared at him, touched, flattered, baffled. “Why?” She shook her head and looked away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask that. I’m not fishing for compliments, I just....”
He gently turned her face toward himself. “You just have no ego. You don’t realize how fascinating you are.” He kissed her right cheek, gently. “How beautiful.” He kissed her left cheek.
She lifted her hands in a helpless shrug. “But I’m not. I’m just....”
He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. “Just you. That’s all you have to be, Erin, ever. Just you.” He pressed his lips to hers, gently. “I’ll go now. But I want to see you again soon.”
She nodded as he backed up, then shook her head. “I’m going away for a few days. To see my mother. To... to rest.” She hated lying to him, had to remind herself that she didn’t know him well. Not well enough to sleep with him and not well enough to trust him with the truth.
She wondered suddenly how long he would be working in town and a pain sliced her heart. Would he be gone when she got back? She couldn’t ask him to wait for her, couldn’t ask for anything, when she was giving so little. She wished she could do things differently, but she felt too tired and confused and overwhelmed to make important decisions.
He gazed at her, his face unreadable. He pulled out his wallet and fished out a card. “Here’s my number. Call me when you need me.”
He strode toward the door. He was reaching for the handle when Erin grabbed his arm. “Drew, wait.”
He turned. She stretched up and pressed her lips to his. The warmth of him swam through her like a drug. She eased back. “I’ll call you. Soon.” She smiled and reached up to touch his cheek. “Thanks for the ride home.”
Chapter 13
Erin slouched in the Jeep’s passenger seat while Camie drove west toward Arizona. Should anyone be watching, they hoped this would confirm their claim that Camie was taking Erin to visit her mother. They sped along an almost-empty road under a cheery blue sky. Small yellow flowers added splashes of color to the ditches alongside the two-lane road. Scrubby mesquite bushes, patches of prickly pear cactus, and desert weeds dotted the low hills of reddish earth.
“So does he kiss as well as you’d expect?” Camie asked. They’d gotten a later start than they’d hoped, since Camie wasn’t a morning person and Erin had been exhausted from the late night. They’d loaded up quickly so they hadn’t had a chance to talk about the really important things—like Drew.
Erin made a humming sound in her throat, like a purr. “Better. Much better.”
“Oh my God! Tell me everything.”
“All right. But first I want you to explain something.”
Camie pouted. “Darn. If you’re willing to tell me everything and I don’t even have to pry it out of you, everything must not be that exciting.”
Erin laughed. “We didn’t do it, if that’s what you mean.”
“Don’t tell me he’s a gentleman,” Camie sneered.
“Yes... well, not exactly. He didn’t just give me a polite kiss at the door and say goodnight. But when I said stop, he didn’t push.”
Camie sighed. “How am I supposed to live vicariously through your romantic exploits, if that’s the way you behave?”
“Get your own exploits. Anyway, I wanted to ask you, what did you mean at the bar, when you said he wouldn’t hurt me?”
“Oh, that.” Camie gave her a sly sidelong glance. “Honey, you should’ve seen the way he looked at you! You had your eyes closed when you started dancing, and he was gazing down at your face.”
“He was?” Erin cringed and touched her cheek where the bruises still mottled the skin.
“It made my heart go pitter pat,” Camie said, tapping her chest. “A guy looks at you like that, he’s not trying to screw you over. Screw you, maybe, but the good kind.”
Erin shifted uncomfortably. She wasn’t sure how to feel. Any woman would be flattered to have a man like Drew interested in her, of course. She liked him—maybe more than she was ready for—and if she even thought too closely about last night’s kiss, she’d melt into a big puddle of bubbling lust. But she just didn’t get it. No matter what sweet things he said, Erin couldn’t believe he would really want her. A one night stand, maybe, if only because she was more of a challenge than the drunken woman at the bar. But nothing more, nothing serious. It was easier to believe Drew was trying to seduce her to get information about the treasure, just like Mitchell. It hurt, but it made sense. She didn’t want to be fooled twice.
To change the topic, she twisted and stretched to peer over the pile of gear in the
back of the Jeep. “We’re supposed to be making sure we’re not being followed. It would be pretty embarrassing to lead the bad guys right to the treasure because we were busy gossiping about romance.”
“Oh, like James Bond never gets distracted by a sexy body.”
The road curved back to town, disappearing behind the low ridge of mountains on the left. In the distance, to the east, a line of bright green showed where cottonwood trees grew on the banks of the Rio Grande. Beyond that, rosy tan foothills rolled back to the distant mountain range, purple under the turquoise sky. No buildings marred the landscape, no sign of human life except the road and a couple of cars.
Erin saw a blue sedan a quarter mile back. Some distance behind it came a black vehicle, too far away to identify the type. “Of course, it would help if I knew how to tell if you’re being followed.”
“The turnoff is coming up. That’s when we’ll know.” Camie slowed and turned left onto a dirt road. It would wind between hills for several miles before turning east and eventually meeting up with I-25 again. It was rare to meet anyone on this rugged ranch road, so anyone following was definitely suspicious.
Erin kept watch as Camie drove. The Jeep kicked up dust that billowed in the air for a few seconds, leaving a hazy trail behind. The blue sedan shot past on the highway. A minute later, a black SUV came into view. Erin shuddered. She remembered the sight of shiny black metal barreling down on her. Her stomach clenched and she held her breath. Was it slowing down?
The vehicle kept going past the turnoff. Erin let out a shaky sigh. Had the SUV really slowed down, or was that just her imagination? It was definitely going slower than the blue car, but maybe the driver just wanted to coax better mileage out of his gas guzzler.
“All clear?”
Erin hesitated. She didn’t want to panic at the slightest coincidence, but her nerves were humming. Probably just a reaction to seeing a vehicle like the one that had hit her. No big deal. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life freaking out whenever she saw a black SUV. But what if...? “I guess so. I’m going to keep watching for a few minutes, though.”