“Cutie, cutie,” Martin teased, standing at the water’s edge. “Woo woo.”
“Hush. You’re embarrassing me.” But she couldn’t help giving him the once-over, too. He had fine black hair on his chest, a slim waist, and nice straight legs.
She touched her toe to the water. “Brrr.”
Martin pushed her in and jumped in beside her, surfacing like a seal. The shock of cold water still had her squealing when Eric came off the top, feet first, straight as a knife. When he surfaced, Martin laughed and splashed him.
“I thought that pretty blue bikini would lure you in, little brother.”
“Shut up.” Eric dunked him.
Unable to stifle her bubbling laughter, she hoped to escape anymore submerses while they were focused on each other.
Destiny swam away from the tussling brothers. They followed her like sharks, making fins with their hands and baring their teeth. She splashed Martin and turned right into Eric. He grabbed her, raised her completely out of the water, and dropped her.
Destiny opened her eyes and looked around. She was a water baby. No problem. Through the crystal clear water, she could see the solid rock walls and floor of the pool. Small rocks and pebbles dotted the bottom. She kicked downward for a closer look. Eric appeared beside her, smiling foolishly, bubbles escaping from between his clenched teeth. She giggled a bubble and had to surface.
They swam, chasing each other, and Destiny realized the guys were mimicking her. She began looping and whirling. Taking a breath and submerging, she floated there, suspended, the two brothers facing her. But she couldn’t tear her gaze from Eric. So broad. So bronze. Very little body hair. She watched his muscles ripple as he moved his arms and legs to maintain his position. Realizing she was staring, she surfaced quickly and swam for the climb-out ledge. Sitting on the rock, she dangled her legs in the water. Both men joined her, one on either side.
A current, warm and thick, flowed between her and Eric. Though they sat inches apart, she could sense him almost as if they were touching. She wondered if he felt the same way, or if Martin noticed, and she didn’t dare look at either of them.
“We’d better get dressed,” Eric said presently.
“Right,” Destiny agreed with a sigh. “But it’s so lovely here.” It would have been even lovelier had she and Eric been alone.
Not wanting to pull on her boots, Destiny picked them up to walk barefoot over the smooth rock to the trees. She quickly discovered the rock was much too hot. “Ow, wait!” She hopped on one foot, attempting to pull on a boot.
Eric strode back and swept her up, depositing her under the trees. She picked up her clothes and returned behind her rock to change. Just as she fastened her jeans, Iris circled the side of her rock dressing room.
“We need to talk.” Leaning against a boulder, Iris crossed her arms like an irate teacher.
“About what?” Destiny took out her comb, hoping to hide her shaking hands.
“Eric George. Listen to me well, Miss Photojournalist. You can’t have him. Understand? I had him once, and I let him go for very stupid reasons—other people’s reasons at that. I don’t intend to lose him again. Is that clear?”
“No, Iris, it isn’t. I don’t think you have Eric to lose. Or am I missing something?”
“Oh, you’re missing a lot. Eric still loves me, but I hurt him once. He wants to punish me a little. But when he decides he’s had enough revenge, he’ll want me back.”
“Just how did you hurt him?” Destiny dropped her comb back into her bag.
“That’s not important. What’s important is that you understand the way things are. Leave him alone. I mean it. I can make your life very miserable. And I will.”
Destiny slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and tossed her head defiantly. “Don’t threaten me, Iris. I don’t take threats well.” Pushing past the taller woman, she returned to the trees. Outside, she appeared as calm as could be. But inside, she was shaking like a leaf.
As if to emphasize the conversation, Iris zeroed in on Eric, took his arm, and smiled up into his face. He arched a brow at her. Destiny saw nothing pleased or loving in his expression, but he didn’t shake off her hand, and he didn’t walk away from her. Could Iris be telling the truth? Was he merely punishing her for some past hurt, and would welcome her back into his arms as soon as he felt she’d suffered enough? Men surprised her by doing some illogical things and Eric mystified her at the best of times. Maybe Iris knew more than Destiny gave her credit for, or wanted to admit.
Destiny busied herself at Muffin’s side to hide her confusion. Martin boosted her this time, and again Iris rode beside Eric. Destiny wondered what had happened between them. Had they been sweethearts? Even engaged? And why would Iris give him up for, as she’d said, other people’s stupid reasons? Destiny decided that given another opportunity, she would question Martin. Maybe he’d tell her the story. And maybe that would help her conquer her own muddle.
Clouds gathered and thunder rumbled, punctuated by stabs of lightning. They urged the horses homeward at a brisk pace.
“We should get out of here,” Lee said when they arrived back at the house. “If that arroyo across this road runs, we could get stuck here.”
“Whatever,” Iris agreed with a shrug, appearing not to mind that situation in the least.
Destiny watched in relief as Iris got into the Mercedes to drive away with Lee. Then she turned her attention back toward Eric and Martin as Domingo met them. Together, the cowboy trio led the horses to the barn. Grabbing the picnic basket and cooler jug, Destiny hurried into the house.
Even from inside, she caught the whiff of rain. They’d arrived home just in time. Rain began falling, first in a light mist, then actually pattering audibly. It lured her back outside, so she strolled onto the porch. The thickly piled sotol sticks afforded a lot more protection than she’d believed. She’d imagined even the slightest rain running between them and splashing all over the porch. Instead, they channeled it outward. Some spots were dryer than others, and she stood beneath one.
Minutes later, Eric and Martin joined her. Eric inhaled deeply. “Ah, smell the rain on the junipers.” The expression on his face revealed pure pleasure. How proud he was about this land and everything it encompassed.
Destiny took a deep breath and almost levitated on the clean, sharp scent permeating the cool air. “Oh, heavenly.”
“Great guns. They’re tripping out on wet trees,” Martin teased, grinning at them.
Though mostly fine mist fell where they were, she could see sheets of rain slanted over the mountains.
“Come on, come on,” Eric chanted, as if to lure the moisture.
“Do a rain dance, little brother.”
Eric’s gaze narrowed. “You go right ahead.”
“A rain dance by an English, Scotch-Irish, Spaniard isn’t as effective as a genuine Native American’s.” Martin turned to Destiny. “What’s your bloodline, sugar?”
“Irish, English, a little Dutch, a little Swedish. Heinz-57.”
“Our mother is a mix a lot like you, and our father is Spanish and Scotch-Irish,” said Martin.
“What’s all this ‘our’ stuff, white man?” Eric growled.
“Include yourself out, in that case,” Martin replied lightly. Hooking his thumbs into his belt loops, he rocked on his heels, watching the rain.
“I am included out.” Eric’s voice lost its teasing note.
“All right, Sitting Bull. Whatever you say.” Annoyance shaded Martin’s words.
“Sitting Bull wasn’t Apache.” The statement sounded flat, void of banter.
“Well pardon me, Chief Whatever!”
Hissing something inaudible under his breath, Eric stepped off the porch into the misting rain and circled around the side of the house. Martin slamm
ed his hand against the rock column he stood beside. Then he turned and stomped inside.
Destiny hovered on the porch, yet felt compelled to pursue Eric. The rain fell extremely fine, hardly serving to get her wet. Not seeing him anywhere, she wandered into the barn. She found Eric by Pinto’s stall, scratching the big horse’s nose.
As Destiny joined him, he glanced down at her. “Still raining?”
“Uh-huh.” She fluffed her hair, shaking out misty raindrops caught there. Eric reached for a strand and toyed with it. She grew quite still. He’d unbuttoned his damp shirt, revealing a bronze chest that took her breath away and drew her magnetically closer. Did he know his power over her or the way she longed to melt against him? The unbuttoned shirt proved irresistible, and she pressed her palms against his chest. Heat seemed to radiate up her arms from his flesh.
A quiver of excitement rushed through her and feeling his answering tremor, she stood on tiptoes and slid her hands up over the satin muscles of his rock-hard arms, up over his broad shoulders to lock there, holding him. Her pale skin contrasted richly with the burnished copper of his. She curved against his solid strength. Passion throbbed through her veins like molten lava. He bent his head, taking her mouth with his own, drinking honey-sweetness from her lips. Their kiss deepened as his hands ignited a trail of electric explosions, making her ache deliciously.
He released her in stages, each one as agonizing as an amputation. She kneaded his tense arm muscles with her hands. Confusion swept over her as she stared into his dark, unfathomable eyes. Why did he put her aside? She searched his face for a clue.
His lips parted as though he would speak, then they both heard the back door slam and what might have been said was not.
“There you are.” Martin sauntered into the barn. He walked down to Diablo’s stall next to Pinto’s and scratched the black stallion’s ears. He glanced at Eric. “Supper’s almost ready. Estrella said to tell y’all.”
Goldie came over, purring at his feet, and he bent down on one knee to pet her.
Eric rested a hand on the back of Martin’s neck and squeezed gently. “Cochise,” he said.
“Huh?” Martin twisted around to look up.
“Cochise was Apache.”
A grin slowly warmed Martin’s face. “Oh. Okay, Cochise.”
Destiny knelt to pet Goldie. Eric sat down and leaned against a support post. Goldie delightedly padded back and forth under the petting hands. Tiger came out and sauntered over to sniff at Eric’s leg, then allowed Eric to pet him. Eric turned his arm to scratch under the cat’s neck, and Destiny noticed a small but distinct scar on the underside of Eric’s left wrist. She touched it with a fingertip. Tiger shied at her hand’s approach, so she withdrew.
“My suicide scar,” Eric said with a straight face.
A funny little skitter chased down her spine and she glanced at Martin. He continued petting Goldie.
“Really?” Destiny asked in a small voice.
“It wasn’t pretty,” Martin said, sounding very serious. Then his smile gave him away. “It happened when Eric and I decided we wanted to be blood-brothers when we were kids. We’d watched a western with that bit in it, and of course decided that was us for sure. I was what, Eric, seven?”
“Yeah, and I wasn’t even six yet. We thought we knew what we were doing.”
“We stole a knife out of the kitchen, took it out behind the barn, and Eric cut my wrist and I cut Eric’s.” Martin displayed his own faintly scarred wrist. “Only, I nicked an artery in his wrist and it wouldn’t stop bleeding. We knew we’d get into trouble, but when the blood just kept pumping no matter what we did, we finally had to get help.”
Eric grinned. “I was the one bleeding to death and he did all the bawling and squalling.”
“You did some pretty fancy squalling yourself when Domingo sewed you up.”
“Dr. Painless he’s not. But he knew what to do and how to do it. The Bar-M is a far piece from Albuquerque. No Emergency Medics in Las Nubes then. A long drag with a bleeding kid.”
The brothers exchanged grins and Destiny smiled at them in turn. Obviously they shared much rivalry and conflict, yet at the same time an unmistakable current of strong love flowed between them.
Eric got to his feet and offered a hand to Destiny. Martin stood up beside them. Eric looped one arm around Destiny and the other over Martin’s shoulders and steered them to the barn door.
“Let’s go eat,” he said.
Chapter 9
The next morning Destiny went to the long dining table quietly and took her usual chair at Eric’s left, not sure what his mood might be. He sat in his regular place next to the end closest to the kitchen, his back to the enclosed courtyard, facing the front door. Domingo sat directly across from Eric, and Martin was sitting beside Domingo. Estrella always sat at the end nearest the kitchen so she could jump up and fetch things. At the moment she was buzzing around, asking Destiny what she wanted to eat.
“Morning, sugar,” Martin said, flashing a dazzler at Destiny.
“Morning,” she responded with a smile. Her eyes slid over to Eric, trying to gauge his mood. Oh, why did that man confound her so? One moment he was her dream lover and the next he was a remote iceberg, as forbidding as Mount Everest in deepest winter.
Feeling her gaze, Eric cut his eyes at her and gave her a slow smile. “Morning.”
“Good morning.” Sometimes she felt the perfect fool, positive he could look into her eyes and find all her feelings there to read at his leisure.
The men resumed their conversation, held in a Spanish/English mixture. Destiny caught enough English words to gather they were planning repair work on the house. Domingo gestured with his fork and the brothers’ eyes followed it as if it were drawing blueprints in the air.
“I realize that, and I’m not arguing with you,” Eric said, biting into a biscuit. “You know more about roof repair than I do.”
Ah-ha. Roof repair, Destiny thought, buttering a biscuit. “These are delicious,” she said to Estrella.
“Grácias, niña.” Estrella smiled with pleasure. “Try the cactus jelly. I make it myself.”
Destiny smiled back, recalling the cactus jelly she’d bought at a specialty shop in Austin. “Why, thank you. I will.” She reached for the clear ruby jelly. “Prickly pear?” she asked, scooping some for her biscuit.
“Sí, and Estrella, she take out the stickers,” Domingo offered.
He’d said ‘steekers’ and Destiny couldn’t hide a grin. She adored accents, and his English was more heavily accented than Estrella’s. Destiny needed to monitor herself so she didn’t unconsciously mimic him.
Estrella turned down Destiny’s offer to help clear the breakfast things, so she went to her room to ponder on the news Iris had proclaimed the day before that today was Eric’s birthday. She really wanted to get him something, but what? Even if she knew what she wanted, where would she buy it? Not a shirt. Perhaps a decorative belt buckle? No. Not that, either. Phooey.
Noticing her collection of photos, she sat down on the bed and started going through them, choosing the three best enlargements of the sunset she’d taken that first evening she’d arrived, when she and Eric had met. How fortunate she’d printed these off when she was still at the cabin. Now, without power, her printer was useless.
She studied them critically, finally settling on a dramatic shot of an ocotillo’s spiny branches, outlined like a collection of a naughty child’s Christmas switches against the deep orange of the sunset. But she needed a frame! Seeking collusion, she went to Estrella, who was in the kitchen, hands white with flour, humming over a recipe.
“Estrella, I need your help.”
“Sí, niña. What can I do for you?”
It felt almost disloyal to seek help from the housekeeper, but it was all for an innocen
t cause, so Destiny viewed it as a conspiracy of the best kind. She kept her voice low and Estrella tilted her head to hear. “I want to give this picture to Eric for his birthday, but I don’t have a frame. What should I do?”
“Ah! I have just the one. Come.” Wiping her hands on her apron, she led Destiny to her room. Many family photos hung on the wall, and Estrella went to one with a rustic wooden frame and took it down.
“Oh, don’t do that,” Destiny protested when she realized Estrella’s intentions.
“Do not worry, niña,” Estrella reassured her, removing the photo of a plump Mexican woman whom she resembled. “This is my sister. She is very romantic. She would approve.” Estrella polished the glass with a tissue and took Destiny’s photo to place into the frame.
“Perfect!” Destiny held it up to admire it, touched by the gift. “Custom made for my photo. Estrella, thank you. And thank your sister, too.”
“Es nada. You are good for Eric George. You make him smile. And Eric George has never smiled easy.” Estrella led the way back to the kitchen. “I make him a birthday cake and we surprise him at lunch, no?”
“Sounds fun. Can I help you with anything?”
“No, no. I take care of this. Pretty soon it will get hot in here when I turn on the oven to bake the cake. Maybe you go outside in the breeze.”
First putting away her photo, Destiny roamed outside, the dogs trotting over to greet her. Hearing racket from above, she stepped away from the house far enough to see up onto the roof. All three men clomped around up there. She waved.
Eric saluted and moved to the edge with a grin. “Come on up.” He pointed to the side of the house. Following directions, she located the ladder and climbed up, leaving the dogs milling at the bottom. Joby put a paw on a rung as if to follow her, but he couldn’t quite get up the nerve. “Not for doggies,” she told Joby with a laugh.
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