by Conn, Phoebe
Creek Canyon. It's named for Sedona Schnebly. Back in 1902, her husband became the first postmaster, but officials in Washington thought Schnebly Station was too long a name to fit on a postmark."
"I thought the name must be Indian."
"Nope. Sedona Schnebly was the inspiration, but you've got to admit, Sedona is a much prettier name than Schnebly Station would have been."
"Yes. It certainly is."
Jesse kept up a running commentary on the area as they rode into town, but Aubrey couldn't shake the image of the insistent Indian. He had thrown a lance at her in his last visit. Had that been a warning rather than a threat? If so, she had been mystified rather than enlightened. Then again, perhaps she had been foolish to bait Harlan Caine, and then not to be alert to every possible hazard.
Aubrey turned and looked back over her shoulder. They were being followed by a RV with camping equipment piled on top, but the sight of the heavily loaded vehicle failed to reassure her. "We should have called Detective Heffley before we left the house. John Gilroy might already be out on bail."
"I'll call them as soon as we get into town. That's Tlaque-paque on our left through the trees. Even if you don't want to shop, we might stop there sometime just to enjoy the art galleries, although there are several in Sedona proper. The place has been an artist colony for years."
"That must be a wonderful way to live."
The road curved just ahead, and Jesse could only shoot her a quick glance. "Aren't you happy with your life?"
"Now there's a question," Aubrey sighed softly.
"That wasn't an answer though, was it?"
Aubrey was well aware of how evasive she had been. "I'd like to just be a tourist this afternoon. Can we tackle the weighty issues another time?"
Jesse reminded himself that barely twenty-four hours had passed since Gilroy had taken a shot at her, and it was no wonder that she didn't want to concentrate on anything serious. "I suppose happiness is a relative term," he mused aloud. "I doubt I'll ever know the same sheer burst of joy riding a bull can bring, but I knew all along I couldn't follow the rodeo circuit forever."
"Are you certain you couldn't get your timing back if you trained hard?"
They had reached Sedona, and Jesse turned down a side street to find a place to park. Once he had set the brake, he answered Aubrey truthfully. "There are men who've ridden well into their forties, but getting stomped once was enough for me. Besides, could you bear to watch if I went back to bull riding?"
Touching his scar had produced such a horrifying vision, that Aubrey couldn't suppress a shudder. "No, I couldn't. But you shouldn't remain retired just to protect me, or some other woman. You have to please yourself first, Jesse, and then everything else will fall into place."
Jesse reached out to caress her cheek. "Hey. I've been to enough of your seminars to know what you believe, but I've never regretted retiring. That I was forced to retire sure hurt at the time, but I've done all right for myself, and like I said, happiness is relative."
Aubrey was happy with him, but underlying the joy he gave was the fear they were still in danger. Then came the longing for something more than the brief affair that appeared to be their only possibility. "That's why it's always wise to live in the moment," she murmured, and she quickly opened her door to begin the tour of Sedona before she turned any more maudlin.
"There's a pay phone at the corner. I'll call the detectives. Why don't you wander around the first couple of shops, and I'll catch up with you?"
"Fine." Aubrey entered a general store filled with quilts, handmade dolls, colorful clothing, and all manner of folk art. She tarried so long perusing the shop's wares, that she began to worry Jesse must have received bad news and been arguing about it. She stepped out on the walk and found him still standing by the telephone, but he wasn't using it. He was speaking with a young woman whose wild mane of blond hair brushed her hips.
She was dressed in faded Levi's which sculpted her curves to perfection, and a deeply fringed suede halter top. In boots, she was nearly as tall as Jesse, and standing so close, it was plain they were very good friends indeed. Edith Pursely had mentioned Jesse had plenty of girlfriends at home, and Aubrey did not need any psychic talent to recognize this exotic creature as one of them.
The young woman pressed closer, playfully rubbing her hip against Jesse's, and Aubrey had seen more than enough. She fought to suppress a painful burst of jealousy, but failed, and felt sickened to be so insecure. The adjacent shop window featured merchandise decorated with a riot of sunflowers, but as her vision blurred, the bright flowers took on the taunting gleam of cat's eyes.
Jesse hadn't spoken any promises of undying love, so there was absolutely no reason why he shouldn't enjoy flirting with someone as attractive as the statuesque blonde. It was completely illogical for her to feel betrayed, but she did. Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to blink them away, searching in her purse for a tissue.
4 'Did you find anything you like?" Jesse asked as he reached her.
"Lots of things," Aubrey replied as steadily as she could. "What about you?"
Mistakenly believing she was teasing hirn, Jesse replied in kind. "Don't play coy," he scolded. "If you saw me
talking with Dory Pruitt, you must have noticed that every time she took a step forward, I moved two steps back."
That wasn't how Aubrey would have described their exchange. ''This is your home, Jesse. You needn't be embarrassed if you want to stop and talk to the women you date. I'm fully capable of entertaining myself. I won't be in your way."
Aubrey was looking down, and Jesse brushed his fingertips under her chin to force her to look up at him. "There's not a woman in this town who matters to me in the slightest. If you sincerely believe that I'd ask you to duck out of sight to make it easier for me to flirt, then you don't know me at all."
The sincerity of his expression was unmistakable, and Aubrey's emotions took an uncomfortable slide from jealousy to guilt. "Perhaps I don't," she replied, now believing her fears might have colored her perceptions. "Were you able to speak with Detective Heffley?"
Jesse took note of Aubrey's abrupt change of topic, and feared he had merely embarrassed rather than reassured her. "Yes, I did, and things are looking good. The DA has offered immunity in exchange for information on the Ferrell family and it looks as though Gilroy is going to take the deal. Apparently he's already served time for armed robbery and assault. With the new 'three stikes' law, he's looking at life for taking a shot at you."
"So he has nothing to lose?"
"Not a thing."
Although she had hated feeling like bait, at that moment, Aubrey could not help but think of herself dressed as a wedge of cheese. "If you finally get justice for the Ferrells, then the risks will all have been worth it."
"This was a team effort," Jesse insisted. "Come on. There's an ice cream parlor just ahead. Let's order hot fudge sundaes and celebrate."
Aubrey preferred non-fat yogurt to ice cream, but at that moment, a hot fudge sundae sounded divine. No longer caring about long-legged blondes, she looped her arm through Jesse's. 'Terrific. Lead the way."
Once the good news about John Gilroy had lightened Aubrey's mood, she felt far more relaxed. She enjoyed every minute of sightseeing, and while she saw several magnificent paintings, she bought only gifts of sterling silver jewelry to take home to her assistants. It was nearly dusk when they started back toward the ranch, and she was tired but content. She raised a hand to cover a wide yawn.
"Perhaps it's the fresh air, but I'm already sleepy."
"Unlike Los Angeles, the air is too clean to see here, but I'd like to apologize for whatever part I had in causing your fatigue."
Aubrey knew he wasn't just talking about their extended walk through town, and smiled to herself. It was a shame they couldn't begin every day making love, but at least for this week they could. She reached over to squeeze his thigh and looked forward to caressing his bare skin later that night.
&n
bsp; Jesse began to swear the instant he caught sight of the Jeep Cherokee parked in his driveway. "That's Dory's jeep, and I sure as hell didn't invite her here. Give me a minute to get rid of her, and we'll have the kind of night I'd planned."
"Sure. I'll wander out back and see if I can find Lucky."
As she grabbed her door handle, Jesse reached out to stop her. "You needn't hide. I don't enjoy Dory's company any more than you enjoy Larry's."
Aubrey's breath caught in her throat, making it difficult to form the question that had to be asked. "She's not your ex-wife, is she?"
Jesse howled. "Please. I've got a lot more sense than that.
Dory's the kind who'll wrap her legs around a barstool, or anything else that's handy. Find Lucky if you like, but I won't need more than a minute or two to send Dory on her way."
When he leaned over to kiss her, Aubrey responded easily to his affection, but as she walked around the corner of the house, she still thought there was a very real possibility Jesse was merely shielding her feelings rather than telling the truth. Dory Pruitt looked as though she had stepped right off the pages of Playboy. Clearly she worked at being a male fantasy come to life, and Jesse was a man who craved all types of excitement. Would he really sidestep her kind?
Not wishing to pursue the thought, Aubrey paused to enjoy a carefully designed rock garden planted with a splendid variety of cactus, then rounded the house. The bunkhouse was off to her left, south of the house. A barn stood straight ahead, flanked by a corral where half a dozen horses appeared to be dozing in the late afternoon sun. A man with jet-black hair tied at his nape was leaning against the corral. He wore Levi's, an aqua Western shirt, and a straw hat pulled low to shade his eyes. Lucky was seated beside him, and Dory Pruitt—her hands shoved in her hip pockets, and her ample breasts thrust forward— was talking with him.
Aubrey assumed the man must be Fernando Pena, Lupe's husband. Having no desire to introduce herself to Dory, Aubrey was about to retreat to the cactus garden when Lucky caught sight of her and came bounding her way. Trapped where she stood, she bent down to hug the dog. He had become attached to her so quickly, she was very sorry she had forgotten about him that morning.
She looked up to find Fernando and Dory walking toward her. "Thanks for watching my dog," she greeted him. "I'm Aubrey Glenn."
Before Fernando could reply, Dory let out an ecstatic
squeal. "Not the Axhrey Glenn! I don't believe it! It is you, isn't it? Just wait until my mother hears that I met you. She loved your book, and now I'll be sure to read it, too."
Dory was even more striking up close. She was in her early twenties, her features were finely drawn, and her flawless skin was a healthy shade of lighdy tanned peach. Her eyes were more green than blue, and her lashes were long and thick. Her teeth were very white, creating a dazzling smile. Aubrey had expected her to have a low, sultry voice which would match her exotic beauty, but Dory spoke in breathless bursts, in a high childlike tone that gave ample evidence of her immaturity. While there were plenty of men who would love to call her their baby, Aubrey was now positive Jesse would not be among them.
Enormously relieved, she replied with the warmth she showed all her fans. "Please give your mother my best."
"Oh, I sure will. Her name's Norma, and I'm Dory Pruitt."
"How do you do, Dory?" Aubrey felt Jesse approaching a second before she heard his boot heels goudge the dirt. She turned and smiled and drew him into their conversation before he could make his feelings known.
"Dory told me her mother's a fan. Isn't that wonderful? It's a constant thrill to meet people who've read my book and been touched by its message."
Jesse caught his jaw before it fell agape, and forced a smile. "Yes. I'm sure that's inspiring. Why don't you get along home, Dory, and tell your mother you met Aubrey. I'm sure she'll be delighted."
Aubrey watched Fernando bite his lower lip to stifle his laughter, but Dory seemed not to understand that she had just been dismissed. She gestured toward the corral with red-tipped nails and began questioning Jesse about a sorrel mare. Jesse replied that the horse wasn't for sale, but Dory wouldn't accept his decision as final.
"You'd sell her to me, though, wouldn't you?" she coaxed in a childish whine.
Jesse stepped forward, grasped Dory's upper arm, and wheeled her around toward the path Aubrey had followed. "Nope. I wouldn't. Now Aubrey and I have plans for the evening and we haven't another second to chat. Come on. I'll walk you back to your Jeep."
"But, Jesse," Dory argued. She wiggled and squirmed, but Jesse kept right on walking and pulling her along.
Aubrey didn't want to laugh out loud, but after hearing Fernando's low chuckle, she was sorely tempted. "You must be Fernando," she said.
Fernando nodded. "That I am. My wife told me you were very pretty, but she did not know how smart you are. I do not read many books. Would I enjoy yours?"
Besides his dark coloring, Fernando did not resemble the Indian in her visions, but there was something in the way he moved that reminded Aubrey of the elusive brave. He was flirting with her, which she hadn't expected, and certainly wouldn't encourage. "You'll have to ask Jesse. He's read it and can give you an unbiased opinion."
Fernando glanced down at Lucky, who was nestled close to Aubrey's side. "Jesse is no more unbiased than your dog, but I will ask him just to hear what he has to say. Do you like horses?"
Aubrey licked her lips nervously. "They're magnificent creatures," she replied, "but I've had very few opportunities to ride."
"You have the perfect one now." Fernando touched his hat brim, then turned away, leaving Aubrey with the distinct impression that he was advising her to apply herself. He entered the barn, and she strolled over to the corral to take a closer look at the horses. She spotted the sorrel mare easily, and thought her much too delicate for a woman Dory Pruitt's size.
In addition to the sorrel, there was a palomino, three bays with glossy black manes and tails, and dapple gray. Apparently looking for treats, the gray approached her and pressed against the rail. ''Sorry, fella, I'm fresh out of apples, or whatever it is you eat."
Again she felt Jesse coming up behind her before she heard his footsteps. "This horse is spoiled," she told him. "I've apologized for coming out here emptyhanded, but he doesn't seem to believe me."
Jesse dropped a sugar cube into her hand. "Hold out your palm, and he won't nibble your fingers by accident."
Aubrey held out her hand and then laughed when the horse plucked the cube from her palm. "His whiskers tickle. Oh look, they're all coming over now."
Jesse pulled another sugar cube from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. "I've enough for everyone. Which do you like best?"
"They're all gorgeous, and I'm sure they must have distinct personalities. The gray is the boldest, but I'm not sure he's the most beautiful. What's his name?"
"Bluebeard," Jesse replied, "but he's a gelding and has never done away with any wives."
"I'm glad to hear it."
Jesse kept handing her sugar cubes for each horse in turn. "Thanks for being so gracious with Dory. I swear her bra size is above her IQ, and sometimes it's difficult not to become impatient with her. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if she didn't turn up here tomorrow with her mother and ask you to autograph her copy of your book."
Aubrey stroked the palomino's velvety muzzle before giving him a sugar cube. "I won't mind. It's really a nice tribute to the book."
"And you," Jesse stressed. Out of treats, he hugged Aubrey briefly, then took her hand. "Let's clean up before supper. Lupe feeds the hands first, then serves me the
leftovers, but with you here, I might get first pick of the food for a change/'
"You're teasing me, aren't you?"
"Yes, but it's fun."
He winked at her, and Aubrey remembered how serious he had been the first time they had spoken. She had been positive she couldn't help him find out what had happened to the Ferrells, and now it looked as though the
y were very close to learning the whole sad story. A couple of men appeared on the bunkhouse porch, but Jesse just waved to them rather than swing by to introduce them.
"Can we go riding tomorrow?" Aubrey asked with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.
Jesse held the back door open for her, and they were enveloped in the savory aroma of barbecued beef coming from the kitchen. "Damn, but that smells good," he sighed. "Yes. Let's go riding tomorrow, and I'll give you the complete tour. As for tonight, I promise to keep you entertained right here."
Aubrey reached up to kiss him, then quickly pulled away when Lupe called to them. She wasn't used to having so many people around, but Jesse was such a fascinating man, it was going to be very easy to ignore all the others. "I can hardly wait," she purred in a throaty whisper, and the desire that filled his glance warmed her clear through.
wondered if she saw her own life as equally dull. "What about advertising for his owner? Have you given up on that?"
"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten we ought to at least try to find his home." Aubrey didn't understand how such a simple matter had become so complex. 'Tm afraid I didn't think this through before we left home. My home," she quickly amended.
"Neither of us was thinking too clearly, and that's Gil-roy's fault, not ours. Why don't I keep Lucky for a while? When you get home, place an ad in the Times, and if the owner responds, I'll buy a dog carrier, put Lucky on a plane, and send him out to you."
That suggestion solved their problem with Lucky, but Aubrey still felt uneasy. "There's something about that dog," she murmured.
Jesse watched Aubrey's frown deepen. "The Ferrells didn't own a dog. Is that what you were thinking, that he might have been theirs?"
"No, it's not that. It's just a feeling, but it won't corne clear." The Indian's gesture toward the west had certainly been emphatic, but had only left her confused. "Something's going on, but I don't know what it is yet. Maybe I'll understand in another day or two."