She wanted to scream out that these had been the most traumatic days she'd ever spent in her life. And sigh that they'd also been the most wonderful.
Leeza thought about her friends back at the ranch and her financial empire in Washington, D.C. She'd left the world of venture capitalism to her well-trained assistants, but she'd continued to monitor every facet of her corporation, perhaps keeping the door open to return whenever she wanted. She'd assumed the financial reins at the ranch, exploring monetary opportunities every bit as assiduously as she'd ever investigated a possible business venture. But she hadn't changed. She'd been the same Leeza Nelson she'd always been, as well trained as her assistants, not by mentors, but rather by a strange, cold couple named John and Cora Nelson.
It took coming out onto a mountain in search of a little boy to make her see that she even could be someone other than the Leeza Nelson John and Cora had carefully engineered. That she was already changing.
This new Leeza, the one who found joy in Daggert's arms, could ride a horse without heart-pounding fear, could go for hours without a need to fill a seeming silence, could be a woman who would never let a lonely little boy go without a hug, without comfort.
This new Leeza could feel confident without having to be the only confident person. She could give as well as take. And at some point she'd have to thank the man who'd helped her discover her new self—thank him for seeing her first.
Chapter 10
Dawn sent fingers of cold rosy light across the tops of the pine trees, and Daggert frowned at the horizon. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. A storm was coming. He'd felt it in the moist chill in the night. The very stillness now seemed to foretell approaching thunder.
Leeza had told him that first day that little Enrique was frightened of thunderstorms. Most children were at some point. Donny had been. "Daddy? You won't let the lightning hurt me, right?"
It had stormed the second night Donny was missing. Lightning had split the sky and released torrents of rain.
Daggert's mind skittered away from that thought and jumped ahead three days, to when he'd crested the peak of Cima La Luz.
Jack had tried to keep Daggert from seeing the sodden and battered body of his little boy. But he'd pushed past the deputy marshal.
He closed his eyes now, unwilling to see it again, wishing he'd complied with Jack's urgent plea.
"Are you okay?"
He opened his eyes. Leeza. Sharp tongued, warm bodied, as strong in her way as he was broken in his. "I'm fine," he said, and even to himself, he sounded curt. "We'll come up on a rise in a minute. You should be able to use your cell phone there." He pushed Stone to a brisker walk and soon reached the top of the hill.
A narrow meadow lined with yellowing aspen trees stretched before them, a passageway to the massive Cima La Luz looming above them in the northwest. Despite the thunderheads gathering, sunrise dappled the mountain clearing with a copper hue and lit the dew to a sparkling rose-gold.
But it wasn't the beauty of the meadow that stole Daggert's breath. It was the sight of a lump of clothing beneath a single scrub oak on the far side of the meadow.
Sancho had spied it, too, and was racing toward the tree, his body little more than a chocolate blur. Daggert whistled for him to stop. Sancho immediately dropped to the ground, a brown arrow pointing at tragedy.
"Hold up," he said, and he heard Leeza pull Belle to a stop. "Wait here."
He urged a restive Stone forward. The big horse shook his great head as if resisting the silent command, but picked his way across the clearing anyway. Daggert told Sancho to stay back as he passed him, dismounting a few feet away from the destroyed clothing. Remnants of a child's jacket. Clawed by a big cat. Destroyed. Flayed. And, dear God, the boy's hat.
Sancho whined. Stone pawed the grass in the meadow.
Everything in Daggert seemed to freeze. Once again he was back on that mountain peak, Jack trying to hold him back from the bloody lump beneath a tall pine tree. "Don't, man. You don't want to see this."
But he had seen it. He'd burned it on the retinas of his memory.
Every hope and dream he'd ever had lay beneath that tree, ruined, destroyed, broken forever.
"There's no blood here," Leeza said quietly, uncannily honing in on his thoughts. When she placed her hand on his shoulder and shook it slightly, he realized she wasn't seeing the vision in his mind, she was directing him to look more closely at the litter in the meadow. "It's not real, see? Like the glove. Like Sancho tied up. This is part of his game. Enrique's not here."
Daggert was more grateful for this woman than he'd ever been for anything on earth before. She was a sweet voice of reason in a world seemingly gone mad. It had gone sour four years before when Donny didn't come home for dinner one night.
And now, with her soft voice—how had Daggert ever imagined it could be icy, when it was rich with untold depths?—and her warm hand on his shoulder, her voice of reason in his ears, he could see the truth clearly spelled out in this wanton destruction marring the peaceful meadow.
Whatever methods the man had used before, his lunacy was laid bare now. No animal had done this. The sheer randomness of the claw marks indicated that insanity and not animal rage had created the tears. And whatever motives the madman had harbored before, Daggert was suddenly sure the monster was luring Leeza and himself higher up the mountain, to the very peak where he'd killed Donny.
When he could speak, Daggert said, "I want you to stay here." He felt unable to look around at her.
"No." Her refusal wasn't harsh; it was as soft as her skin and every bit as firm.
"He's playing with us. Leading us."
"Or waiting to separate us," she said with stark logic. "He's crazy. You said it yourself. And as such, we can't figure out his motives. For all we know, maybe he thinks he is a mountain lion."
Daggert looked at her finally and took in everything about her in a painful, jolting glance. She was utterly terrified, her lips pinched, her eyes too wide, her skin bleached with thoughts of what this madman might be doing to Enrique. Nevertheless, she wasn't giving in to her fears. She was actually demanding that he think it through logically.
"Denzhoné—"
"No. You're not going to sweet-talk me into this. You are not leaving me behind. You can arm me—I know you have a gun in one of those saddlebags. Or if it comes to that, I have the man's knife. We can plan a strategy, whatever you want. But I am not going to sit in this meadow waiting to hear a gunshot or a scream. Or wait to be killed myself. You promised me, Daggert."
"I told you I don't believe in promises," he said harshly.
"You believe in vows. And you vowed not to leave me."
That wasn't what he'd vowed, not quite. But he knew she'd won. And he knew he'd never admired anyone more than he did this woman, at this moment. "Try your cell phone again. If you reach someone, tell them to send a helicopter to the meadow at the base of Cima La Luz. They won't be able to get any closer than that."
Shaking outside, quaking within, Leeza flipped open the cell phone and swiftly pressed the speed dial button for Rancho Milagro. For a moment, she'd seriously thought that Daggert would forget about her, remember only his driving compulsion to avenge his son's death. She'd been sure that he would mount Stone, ride across the meadow and disappear into the woods beyond.
The shaft of pain she'd felt then was something unfathomable, too deep for mere words. She wasn't afraid of being left behind. She wasn't afraid of being alone in these mountains. She wasn't afraid of the killer Daggert believed was out there somewhere.
She wasn't even afraid of not finding Enrique—Daggert had vowed he would find the boy and she believed him with every fiber of her being.
She was starkly terrified of the prospect of not seeing Daggert again. Daggert the man, not the tracker.
The cell phone wasn't working. She tried it again, forcing herself to focus on the task literally in her hand, to let her mind erase the image of Daggert riding away from her.
She'd never considered a helicopter. If that very first morning she'd told Daggert about her suspicion that Enrique was going to Cima La Luz, would he have requested one then?
The point was moot because that time was past, and in the present, she couldn't get a signal.
"We'll try again later," he said. "If the storm lets you through." He swung his leg over his saddle.
No! Leeza wanted to cry out. But she didn't have to say anything; he waited until she remounted Belle.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Fine," she lied.
* * *
The hunter found the perfect place to secret the boy and wait for Daggert and Leeza Nelson.
The boy whined a little at the command to stay out of sight, but the hunter convinced him that he would never get to see his parents if he didn't hide now.
That he was telling the boy the absolute truth amused him.
* * *
Daggert felt the tension of the building storm. As they steadily made their way up the side of the mountain, zigzagging up the steep inclines, winding around boulders and pines, the pressure intensified. He noted jays screeching for their mates to return to their nests; chickadees frantically foraging insects from the thick trunks of the pines; white-striped chipmunks racing into hollow deadfalls, their fat little mouths stuffed with pine nuts or whatever they'd managed to snatch from the ground before the downpour washed food away.
The sky seemed as angry and confused as Daggert felt inside. To the southeast, over the valley, azure patches mingled with puffy white streaks. To the northwest, ahead of them, dark purple thunderheads stampeded after their fluffier white cousins, building in their need to rage. A brownish tinge on the fringes of the storm foretold hail at lower elevations, where the temperature was warmer. In the mountains, it was anyone's guess what would happen—snow, hail, sleet and definitely rain. But the lightning flickering in the deepest purple indicated that rain was the least of their worries.
The Guadalupe Mountains sported more pockets of pure iron than almost any range in the entire mountainous state. And if pure iron was absent, the plentiful deposits of iron pyrite would lure the lightning as surely as any rod might.
The very top of the mountain was almost completely iron, iron pyrite and sheets of glass from the numerous times lightning had struck the sand there. Enrique had been right about the strange lights, but wrong about the source, Daggert thought. Cima La Luz was aptly named "Light Peak," but from the frequent bolts of lightning striking there and reflecting in the glassy surface, not from alien spaceships stealing hapless humans.
"Daggert?"
He half turned.
"I just wanted to tell you…"
He tensed, waiting, his heart beating, not knowing what this remarkable woman might say at this odd moment. He found himself hoping she'd reveal something that would change him forever. He shook his head, knowing that was impossible.
She fell silent.
"What?" he asked, the human part of him wanting her to continue to tell him, Daggert, I wanted to tell you that I need you. Daggert, I wanted to tell you I've never felt like this before with anyone. Daggert, I want you. Forever.
"Nothing. It doesn't matter," she said, and added, "Never mind."
Part of Daggert felt relieved. Whatever it was, he didn't need any distractions at this time. Just knowing she rode behind him was enough to drive him crazy. He had to think of the path ahead, the dangers around them, and keep his mind off the lovely woman on the horse that followed so readily.
At the same time, he was strangely disappointed. He had the feeling whatever she'd been about to say could be of such import that it might possibly alter the course of his life. His world. He remembered that at the start of their trek together, he'd had the odd sensation that, unlike all the others in his life, she wouldn't give up on him.
Stone snorted.
"You're right," Daggert murmured. "Wishful thinking."
"What?" Leeza asked. Too quickly?
Was she waiting for him to say something to her? Tell her something important? What could he tell her? She knew he wanted her; he'd have to be carved of bedrock not to. She knew he didn't believe in promises, and God only knew he had nothing to promise her. His future had died abruptly four years ago.
Still…Beauty, wit and cobalt-blue eyes. Denzhoné Bidáá.
"Nothing," he said, but he tasted the lie on his tongue and decided that lone word sounded ominously prophetic. There was nothing in his future. Nothing to offer anyone, let alone this woman. But perhaps, just perhaps, there was time to figure out what to say to this woman when the boy was found and Donny's killer made to atone.
And since when did Daggert think in terms of a future, any future, beyond finding the man who'd killed his son?
A vivid flash of light made a negative of the trees, turning them harsh white against a gray background. Less than a second later, a tremendous crack of thunder rocked the mountain and returned the sky to purple-black.
So much for the future, Daggert thought. The present had come crashing down.
Before he could even steady Stone enough to turn around, huge fat drops of icy rain pelted them.
* * *
Belle danced sideways at the explosion of light and the painful clap of thunder, almost unseating her rider.
Instinctively, Leeza gripped the reins tighter and ran her hand down the horse's neck, as she'd seen Daggert do so often. The mare's muscles rippled nervously beneath her hand and she tossed her head, her ears laid back and her eyes white.
A freezing blast of rain pelted from the sky as if the lightning and thunder had ripped the very fabric of the universe.
Dimly, blinded by the rain, deafened by the thunder and desperate to keep Belle from bolting, Leeza caught Daggert's frantic hand signal to guide her horse closer to his. Below her, Sancho was crouching down, muzzle open, obviously barking at Belle, but Leeza couldn't hear the dog for the storm's cacophony.
Ducking her head to avoid the stinging rain, and already shivering despite her warm jacket, she forced down her fear as she gave Belle a gentle kick to get her moving forward again. Enrique doesn't have a jacket, she thought, and prayed he was out of the storm.
An icy wind whipped the pine branches and set them to waving furiously, each tree seeming to groan in protest at the insistent roar of storm. Lightning continued to flash, and thunder immediately followed.
Flanking Stone now, Belle seemed slightly easier, but Leeza knew how close the mare was to giving in to her atavistic terror. Almost as close as her rider was. She'd seldom been out in storms before—the world according to John and Cora Nelson precluded fools who didn't know how to get in out of the rain—and never one as violent as this.
Daggert reached out and clamped a hand around her upper arm. He yelled something at her she couldn't make out over the raging storm. She tried meeting his eyes and it was like looking at him through a torrent of tears.
She was grateful she hadn't told him what was on her mind only moments before. She'd been about to blurt out her confused feelings—how she wanted him, the joy she felt in his company. The truth about not even knowing how she felt because she had no name for the emotions.
If she had, she'd be as vulnerable to him now as she was to this storm hammering them.
And as suddenly as the next flash of lightning, she realized that was exactly what she was: vulnerable to James Daggert. Open. Frightened. Wondering. Spellbound and more.
If he'd been able to see through the terrible rain, she knew he would have witnessed her every fledgling emotion dancing across her face, revealing her inner self, her heart, her very soul.
"Caves," he yelled at her.
She followed him, thinking there was some irony in their desperate search, this battle against the elements. Leeza Nelson had finally found a heart, and the man who'd showed her where it had been hidden was only concerned about getting in out of the rain.
* * *
The boy screamed when the h
uge thunderclap followed the bolt of lightning that had surely struck the top of Cima La Luz. The hunter growled at him to quiet down, it was only a storm, for chrissakes.
Even his superpowered binoculars couldn't make out a thing through the sheets of icy rain. But he knew Daggert and Leeza Nelson were getting closer. All he had to do was wait.
But fingering the mountain lion claws in his pockets, he knew he didn't have much patience left. Didn't they realize how difficult it was to be the smiling man behind the counter instead of the animal that lived within him?
At another clap of thunder, he let loose a scream of pure blood lust.
The boy behind him was utterly silent.
* * *
As caves went, Leeza thought it would never resemble Carlsbad Caverns—and made a mental note to take Enrique there once they were back at the ranch. But it was a pocket of shelter against the raging storm.
Daggert hadn't dismounted, so neither did she, and she was struck by the fact that the scallop in the bedrock was high enough to accommodate horses and riders without any difficulty.
The rain slanted in the broad entrance, soaking the horses' legs and drenching their riders' feet. But it was relatively dry in the shallow upper interior. And it stank of something dark and musty. Leeza hoped it wasn't a bear's den or a mountain cat's lair.
She shuddered, thinking about Enrique, pleading with the powers that governed the universe that he wasn't out in this storm, but taking shelter in a cave similar to this one.
"Are you okay?" Daggert asked, his voice rough with tension.
"How long will this last?" she inquired by way of an answer.
He shrugged. Huge droplets of water spilled from his long hair like diamonds from a jeweler's tumbler. She recalled how that silky mantle had covered her, how it had snared her fingers, how it had felt teasing her skin.
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