by Rain Trueax
“Okay, then I’ll show you your room.” He picked up her bag. “Buck and Sofia arrived earlier. I have a stable guy, but he lives off the ranch.”
Inside the house, she saw natural wood, a feeling of a mountain cabin but larger, as the room soared to a second level. Navajo rugs and even animal skulls were on the walls. She followed him up a set of open stairs to a balcony. “Bedrooms at each end,” he said. “You can have your pick of three. Buck and Sofia are on the main floor. Mine is at the other end of the balcony. You won’t be bothered here.”
In the first room, she liked its opening onto the veranda. “This will be fine.”
“We can talk tomorrow after you wake up.” He set her bag on the dresser. “The kitchen is to the back when you come down.” With that, he was gone, and she was left to wonder what kind of rabbit hole she’d fallen down.
She felt tempted to call her mother, but he was right. She didn’t know who was behind the murder of Debbie or whether Pastor Jefferies had some kind of demonic power behind him. She would bet any power he had was not coming from the Light.
To add to the questions, she also didn’t know who had tried to enter her home, when Mitch stopped him. She should have tried harder to figure that out at the time, but she’d only sensed the invasion and waited to deal with it. It could have been Chuck Clark but equally could have been someone from Action in Faith.
Feeling suddenly exhausted, she stripped and got under the sheets. She spent a few moments to set up a ward around the house as she didn’t have the feeling there was one—not that her earlier ward had kept out Mitch. In the morning, when she woke, it would all be clearer. Then she realized it was morning. It would all be clearer when she woke.
Chapter Eight
Mitch let himself sleep a couple of hours but had too much to do to take more. In the kitchen, Sofia had prepared coffee. “What would you like?” she asked. “I have eggs, bread, ham, bacon, orange juice, potatoes.”
He grinned and poured his coffee. “Surprise me.” He opened a can of food for Adolph and walked to the kitchen window to look over his land. Never had he been to the Verde ranch when he hadn’t felt peace descending over him. Even now, with turmoil threatening, having brought a reluctant woman with him, even then, he knew this was where he needed to be—the land of his Apache ancestors and his father.
When Robert Flynn bought the ranch, he told Mitch later that he’d called it the Flying Flynn as a kind of joke since he’d done a fair number of action thrillers including pirate movies. Now, while Mitch called the vineyard Vislogus, this ranch was in all the important ways—a place with no name. It owned him as much as he owned it.
Maybe finally here, Nantan Lupan would return, get over being angry with him, and provide him guidance again. He had waited, hoping, asking, but he understood the old man’s annoyance when he felt Mitch had let him down.
“Good morning,” Elke said from the door. Adolph left his food to greet her before he went back to eating.
“I didn’t know he brought you, missy. What can I get you?” Sofia smiled and gestured for Elke to sit while she brought her coffee.
“What are my options?” Elke asked. When Sofia listed them off, Elke said, “Surprise me.”
Mitch came to sit across the table from her. “I thought you’d sleep longer.”
She sipped her coffee. “My mind wouldn’t let me.”
“I’m sorry I insisted you come. I was reacting to an urge I can’t explain right now. I can take you back if you wish.”
“No, I’ve thought about it. Your urge was right. I didn’t know what was happening. I was trying to sort it out but kept going in circles. Maybe we’ll have better luck together.”
“You need cream or sugar for your coffee?” Sofia asked as she refilled Mitch’s cup.
“Black, thank you.” She looked at him. “I can understand why you wanted to come here. It’s beautiful with a wonderful feel to it.”
“After we eat, would you like to go for a ride? I can show you the whole place from horseback.”
“I’d love it.”
An hour later, he saddled Pepper for her and Ranger for himself. The gelding danced a little when Adolph approached, but settled down and didn’t fight the bridle or being saddled. If he’d been more confident in the horse’s temperament, he’d have used a hackamore. For now, the bit was going in. He watched as Elke mounted before he swung into his own saddle.
“I’ve never been in this part of the Verde Valley,” she said as he headed them north and to a trail he’d taken often that would bring them onto a ridge where they’d see the vineyard and the valley laid out as well as the distant Sycamore creek. Adolph raced ahead scenting out rabbits and whatever varmints had been there, since the last rain.
“I suppose you were in Sedona for the woo-woo events,” he teased.
“You mean vortex ceremonies. No, we have a vortex on the Circle C. They can be found many places. I’ve been for Tlaquepaque, the resorts, swimming, the art galleries.”
“Your family was a fan of the arts before Beringer entered it?”
“My mother and maybe some my father. None of their daughters though inherited that particular talent. The closest is Denali who paints, what I consider good work, but she never thought it was. I can’t draw a straight line.” She laughed.
“You recognize it though as you do pick out clothing that will appeal.”
“Ah yes, Mellow Yellow. That only takes seeing what others have created and convincing someone else it will make them beautiful.” She looked over at him. “Have you been to the shop?”
He shook his head. “I looked you up after you left. Only fair, don’t you think?” He tightened his rein on Ranger as he felt him try to turn back. “Maybe he’s just got a stubborn streak,” he said as the gelding responded to his steady hand.
“Is this a good place to let them go?” she asked. “Maybe he needs to run it out.”
He smiled. “Excellent place. Head for the red rock ridge you see at the top of this trail.” With that, he nudged Ranger in the side, and the two horses took off at a gallop. He stayed a little back enjoying watching how smoothly Elke rode. At the excitement of the running horses, Adolph returned but kept enough distance from Ranger not to frighten him.
At the bluff, Elke pulled Pepper to a halt. She looked at the rocks. “Petroglyphs.”
“There are a lot of them around here. Five other sites on this ranch.”
“Do you know what they mean?”
“Not the Sinagua petroglyphs, but the pictograph shield to the left is Apache. It’s establishment of territory. This was Apache land after the old ones left. Some say the zigzag marks are clans, but I don’t know anybody who can say for sure.”
He turned his horse and pointed out the vineyards now far below. “My father ran cattle on here, but I haven’t done that. I am not here enough. If they got into the vineyard, Jacques would likely slit my throat.” He laughed.
“What kinds of grapes do you raise? I will tell you though, before you start, I know little about wine. My sister,Torre, is the aficionada. She’s the one that told me about your winery. According to her, your vintner is world renown.”
He nodded. “So I was told when I began this project. I liked the idea though of growing the grapes. Jacques let me know which ones he saw doing well on these slopes. We grow Syrah, Petite Sirah, Mourvedre, Grenache, and Cabernet Pfeffer grapes. As you said about your being no artist, I am not a vintner. I was lucky that Jacques liked the idea of living in the Verde Valley.” Not to mention his ability to reward his skills with a high salary and benefits.
“I can see why you want to be here.”
“It gets hot or will this afternoon, but the nights are usually cool. It’s quiet here. I can think.”
“Are you writing more books?”
“Can we go for the easy questions first?” he asked. “How about whether there is a heaven or hell.” He leaned forward on the pommel and grinned.
“Witches aren’t on the inside of tha
t.”
“You talk to guides, don’t you?”
“When needed.”
He laughed. “You are as reluctant to talk about yourself as I have been.”
“Have?” She laughed.
“I told you about my father. I don’t tell many that.”
“But there is more, isn’t there?”
“Maybe. Let’s head back and sample some of that wine.”
Adolph came running up and startled Ranger sending him into a bucking frenzy. Not expecting it, Mitch held on for three hard landings, before he was sent sailing, landing hard on his right hand and feeling the pain surge up his arm. “Damn,” he cursed, watching Ranger head for the ranch. “I should’ve shot him.” He groaned with the pain. Likely, he’d broken his wrist. Just what he needed.
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Watching Mitch be thrown, Elke suppressed her scream. She jumped off her mare, dropped the reins to keep her where she was, and went to where he was levering himself up. “Are you hurt?” Adolph loped to his side and nuzzled him for reassurance.
He snorted. “My pride… and my wrist. Might be a little karma.” His laugh was swallowed by a reluctant groan.
She saw then how he was holding his arm. “Let me see what I can do,” she said. Healing had been one of her skills, but she’d never tried it on a broken bone. She pushed him flat.
“What are you doing?” he asked, sucking in a breath, as he cursed again.
“Let’s see.” She put one hand on his wrist, feeling for the energy of the break. Luckily, it wasn’t compound. The other hand she held over where she felt the heat of injury. She let the energy of the universe flow through her. The heat grew as waves of it traveled from her, through the air, to his wrist. She moved to hold her other hand over his arm but not touching his skin now. The healing wasn’t her. It was the earth, the Elementals, the land that he loved now returning the favor.
She didn’t know how long she continued, but eventually she felt a cooling of the skin. The energy changed. “How does it feel?” she asked as she met his gaze for the first time.
“Better.” He reached up with his other hand to her neck. He pulled her toward him, not applying enough pressure that she could not have broken away. She didn’t want to break way. His lips parted, and she knew hers had too. She wanted the kiss.
The sound of pounding hooves caused him to release her and lever himself up onto his elbow.
“What the hell happened, boss?” the cowboy yelled as he pulled his horse to a plunging stop. He was riding bareback and clearly was at least part Native American.
“I got careless,” Mitch said. He rose to his feet and felt of his wrist. “No real damage done though.” He looked back at Elke. “Elke, this is Joe Kuruk, my cousin or second cousin or… What the hell relation are we, Joe?” he asked with a laugh.
“Damned if I know.”
“Well, the gist of it is when I’m not here, he runs the ranch—the part that Jacques doesn’t run at least. Joe, this is Elke Hemstreet.”
“Howdy, pretty lady,” Joe said. His smile flashed white teeth. He was a handsome man, looked to be tall.
“Pretty and handy to have around too,” Mitch said. “Mind if I ride behind you?” he asked as he lifted Elke into her saddle. “Pepper should be fine with the extra weight since it’s not far.” She leaned forward as he made a leap onto the back of the mare.
“I take it Ranger was fine,” Mitch said as they rode down the trail, Adolph running ahead and checking out scents.
“Jittery like before. That horse may not be good for here.”
“We’ll see.”
“Can I try with him?” she asked.
He put his arm around her waist and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “After you healing my wrist, how could I say no?”
She smiled and leaned against him. “Maybe it wasn’t that badly injured.”
“You and I both know it was broken. You healed it. Part of the gift of witches?”
“Or shamans.” She liked the feel of Mitch’s hard body against her. She was beginning to feel urges where it came to him that were new to her. She’d only been with one man sexually and that was in college when it was a wham bam thank you ma’am, and she’d decided experimenting with sex wasn’t for her. After that, she’d had a few boyfriends but none that lasted long enough for her to consider going beyond brief, goodnight kisses—probably why they hadn’t lasted.
“Maybe you want me riding ahead,” Joe teased, not catching their conversation but obviously aware of the body language.
“Nah,” Mitch said. “I appreciate you riding out to check on me.”
Joe chuckled. “Looked like you were doing fine when I rode up, boss.”
“Joe thinks being my cousin gives him special privileges,” Mitch told her. “Like calling me boss the way he just did.”
“You ain’t my boss?” Joe asked looking over and winking at Elke.
“No man is your boss, and you don’t have a woman yet.”
“You got a woman now, boss?”
“She’s a partner… in crime,” Mitch retorted.
“Damn,” Joe said. “The world won’t be safe.”
“Of course it will,” Elke said, “just on our terms.”
Joe looked over and laughed. “Don’t let her get away.” Again the wink. “Or tell you what, let her get away, and I’ll go round her up.”
At the stable, Joe took the horses to rub them down. Elke headed over to the corral where Ranger was looking at them uneasily. She entered the corral and walked toward the gelding. “You are afraid. Tell me why,” she said as he pranced a little but waited and let her run her hand over his neck. She stroked him.
‘He’s a wolf,’ the horse told her, ‘and he has a wolf who runs with him.’
She smiled at that. She switched to her own thought waves. ‘I am also. Did you know that?’
The horse looked at her. ‘You don’t feel the same.’
‘It’s because I am female.’
She could see Ranger consider that. She continued to stroke him, to use her magick to relax him. ‘A wolf killed one of my friends,’ Ranger said finally.
‘I am sorry to hear that. Wolves are not all the same.’ Ranger then looked over at Mitch who, watching them, was leaning his elbows on the top rail of the fence.
‘You trust him?’ he asked looking back at her.
‘I do. You can too. He will protect you. You hurt him today, but he’s not angry or punishing you, is he?’
‘No.’
‘Want me to ride you next time, so you can see I trust him and now you?’
‘No, I will not do it again.’ The horse then nuzzled her neck. ‘You don’t feel like a wolf.’
She smiled. ‘I will prove it to you someday.’ She glanced back at Mitch. ‘He doesn’t know, so don’t tell him yet.’
Ranger snorted and moved from her to Mitch where he let him run his hand down his nose.
“It will be all right now,” she said as she came to stand beside him.
“You’re a horse whisperer?” he asked as they walked back to the house.
“A witch.” She grinned.
They dined that evening on the terrace. Sofia had fixed a feast of lamb, boiled potatoes from the garden, fresh lettuce for the salad, and Vislogus wine from Syrah grapes. She understood now Torre’s excitement at the winery as it was mellow and perfectly enhanced the meal.
She had changed into a sundress, gold with Southwestern patterns. She knew it was flattering, especially as the sun began to set and throw a red glow over the land. Mitch had changed into shorts and a tank top. The feelings she had, how she admired his virile body, her own body’s reaction to his faintest touch, all of it was new to her. His voice was deep and when he laughed, it was as though he was touching her, even more when his gaze moved down her body, and his eyes showed he liked what he saw.
After they’d eaten, he pulled out her chair and took her arm to help her rise. She didn’t need the help, but there was an old wo
rld courtliness about it that had her breathing a little faster. She followed him to a lower patio where they sat on lawn chairs, watching the sky do its thing.
Theirs was a companionable silence, as their energies merged and moved apart, all while not physically touched. She’d never been with a man who had equal spiritual power to hers, maybe even more. It seduced her as much as did his physical body—and that was saying a lot.
“They say we could get a storm tomorrow,” he said sipping his wine and watching her over the rim of his glass.
“The land seems dry, so that is probably a good thing.” She was trying to keep her thoughts on the mundane, like the weather. Instead, they were on the man across from her who sprawled in his chair with ease and yet there was leashed power. She could see him as a movie star or an Apache riding across this land. He showed his dual heritages in every move he made.
“I want to make love to you,” he said. “I suppose that’s not a good way to approach a seduction.”
She smiled. “It’s direct.”
“You’re not ready for that yet though, are you?”
“Are you?”
He laughed at that, rose, and refilled their glasses. “Maybe not the ramifications.”
“Let’s talk about who we are. You had an education. I should have known that from your book. Where was it?”
“Stanford. Other than my spirit guide, I had mostly been home educated, with a hunger to learn, by my grandfather and a trader, Josiah Taggert, who lived in Cibecue part of the year. That would have been the end of it, if at eighteen, my life hadn’t been upturned, when my dying grandfather told me my father’s name.
“I buried Grandpa, took the few dollars he had left me, and hitched my way to L.A. I didn’t know if my father would care or believe me. I found he had an office in town where I left a message with someone who looked at me strangely. The call came that night. He sent a car to the cheap motel where I had just enough money to stay two nights. When I met him, it was obvious he was my sire.” He gave a little laugh.
“I wasn’t sure what that would mean to him, but it turned out, he’d not known about me or had any other children. He wanted to make up for what he’d lost. He flew me here the next day. We talked, much as you and I are. I didn’t tell him then about my spirit guide, but maybe he knew. Anyway, he wanted to contribute to the man I would be. I took tests and got surprisingly high marks. With my father being who he was, Stanford let me in, and I did well there.”