Lone Star Hero

by Jennie Jones

  The loop was divided on the southern end by a trail he’d named Witch’s Walk. He figured Alice would like the pun, since it was a tricky trail to navigate. It would give the grandmothers an extra blast of notoriety.

  He wished he’d met Wild Ava and Mad Aurora, but they hadn’t been around Hopeless, and nothing much was said about them. He’d have liked to meet Molly’s cousins too. Although meeting more valley residents only meant he’d have more goodbyes to say.

  His hand-drawn map wasn’t detailed, but there was enough for a hiking expert or an experienced park ranger to understand and follow.

  He made a few additional notes for Winnie about the flora and fauna expectations, the state of the tracks, what they could be like in the future, then checked his hand drawn map again.

  He’d given a number of walks in the valley a name, not that he expected anyone to adhere to his suggestions. It was more his way of showing his appreciation for the people he’d come to know.

  The hardest track he’d called Solomon’s Trail, then crossed out his name and just left it untitled. It ran from Hopeless to the hacienda and out toward infinity. He marked it as a probable backpackers trail and noted it needed to be walked by an experienced hiker and navigator before it went up on the tourist route. No-Title Trail was his favourite walk and he’d always think of it as his, even though it wasn’t.

  On a whim, he returned to the heading, scribbled out No-Title and called it Wilderness Trail. If they ran with that name, it would always be associated with him. Not that anyone but Saul would know that, but one day he’d have Wilderness Hiking—wherever it would be. Probably Colorado now, because he didn’t want to be in Texas. That would be too close to Molly, and he couldn’t convince himself he’d leave her alone. But with Wilderness Trail here in the valley, he’d know he’d left a little bit of himself in Texas. And with Molly.

  He had a lot to thank her for. Unbelievably, she’d shown him the way out. The way forward. Or maybe it was the way back. Back to accepting his family. Whichever, he’d been in his own wilderness when he arrived in the valley, and he would be leaving it a better man for having visited.

  His heart warmed as he reviewed his map. Little Hands Picnic Spot—for Winnie. Guard Lookout—for Davie. And one for Molly. The scenic one with plenty of photography and picnic stop-offs. He’d called it Forever Green Trail.

  He stood and shoved his paperwork, the map, and his compass into his backpack. You’re getting carried away here, buddy. They’d forget about him in a week.

  He retraced his steps down Mother Nature Loop, trying to bury his thoughts about Molly and how much he wanted to hold her. Just hold her. Yeah, the sex act would be amazing, he had no doubt, but he wanted his arms around her. He wanted to know the simple expression of appreciation would reassure her and help settle her nerves about this new business venture, and how it had all gotten way too big too soon because of the developers and the need to get the ball rolling. He’d been wrong when he’d told her to settle down and think. She had done all that, or rather, she’d managed to do it on the run while everything spun out of control around her. With each new and necessary amendment, she’d moved forward, not once taking her eye off the end goal.

  It was odd, too, that he hadn’t met the developers. He’d kept a lookout for them, half expecting to come across some paunchy looking little bald man in a shiny suit, poking his nose around the hacienda. But no one from Donaldson’s had turned up. He guessed Marie was keeping them at bay, somehow. Molly had done a lot to stave off their interest, too, with her expansions on the open day, let alone her business.

  Still, he had a prickly feeling about Donaldson’s. They’d be back. As soon as they found another avenue to follow in order to tempt the valley residents to sell up.

  Molly would undoudtedly be nervous about that, but she needn’t be. She was handling things. She could do this, was doing it. Without his help. But he still wanted to hold her. He wanted to help her. And he could do neither.

  “Listen up, Spark.”

  Molly straightened from her kneeling position. “I’ve done it. Stop yelling.” She pulled at the underlayment on the section she’d been nailing into place while Saul dealt with the wood battens up on the steeper section of roof frame. “Look!” she called up to him, pointing at her handiwork. She’d missed a bit earlier, and it had been flapping around, but now she’d fixed it. “It’s all tucked in. It’s overlapped. It’s nailed—two inches from the edge. It’s perpendicular to the lower edge of the roof. Just like all the other ten foot sections I’ve put in place today.” She’d just missed an end piece of one, that was all.

  She paused. Her back was sore from bending. Her knees were sore from kneeling on the rough wall and the hard rafters.

  Saul unfurled to stand, legs wide, each foot on one of the secured rafters. “Stop being so sparky.”

  Easy for him to say. Once the underlayment had arrived late yesterday afternoon, they’d worked until sunset. They’d been up this morning before dawn and as soon as they had enough light, they’d been up on the roof, covering the frame with the waterproof underlayment. Fifteen hours of hard slog, all up, with hardly a break. In this heat—and what was it with this humidity? There were surely laws about this. Health and safety regulations or something. Knowing her luck, someone would discover she’d been working her contractor too hard and take her to court for employer negligence.

  “Spark? Something wrong?”

  She craned her neck to look up at him and eased down a little from the tension of hard work and intent. He looked glorious. Standing on the steep edge, balanced on the rafters beneath the underlayment. Hot and exhausted-looking, dusty and dirty, and sexier than ten male Hollywood stars put together.

  “Be careful up there!” she said. “And don’t call me ‘Spark’.”

  “I was just going to say,” he said with exaggerated patience, “it’s done. It’s finished, Molly. You did it.”

  Molly let this sink in. She glanced around her, wonder filling her. The roof frame was covered and secured. Saul had calculated the placement of the wood battens up on the steepest section, and she’d helped by handing them to him.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said quietly, a mixture of extreme pleasure and exhausting sadness overwhelming her.

  Suddenly, the sky turned broody gray all around her and the cloying heat felt damp and heavy, like big hands dragging at her.

  “Looks like we’re just in time,” Saul called. “Luck was on our side, for once.”

  A chill ran down her spine and all her senses stood on end. Senses she didn’t even know she had. Somewhere in one of those senses, there was a warning.

  She furrowed her brow and looked up at the sky as the first fat raindrops hit her face.

  “We have to get off here,” she said, her voice pitched low, and as strong as her abrupt fear. She blinked, and looked for Saul. “Be careful!” she called, a hand outstretched. Don’t let him fall.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  He made his way down the roof.

  “Be careful!” she called again as thunder cracked above them. She looked up at the sky again and slowly but purposefully rose to stand. Don’t do this.

  “Molly?” She heard Saul’s voice calling to her but it was a dreamlike echo in her head.

  Don’t do this. She stared at the sky. This is crazy. This is not real.

  “I don’t believe in you, do you hear me?” she yelled. “You have no power here.”

  “Molly—what the hell are you doing?”

  “Get lost!” she yelled, louder now. “Leave us alone!”

  Alice’s presence filled her just then. Alice’s calmness. Her steadiness. She heard Alice’s voice. Stand firm, Molly.

  Molly spread her feet wide enough to brace herself. She had no idea what was going on inside her, but some super force was telling her what to do.

  A splintering sound brought her out of her shock and she snapped her head to the right.

  “I’m all rig
ht,” Saul said. “Just slipped.”

  Molly gasped. His foot had gone through a section of the thick underlayment—and he hadn’t slipped.

  “See?” he asked, pulling himself upright. “I just slipped.” But the look on his face told Molly everything.

  “How many times have you just slipped since you’ve been here?”

  He didn’t answer but his features were now set in a fixed, unyielding way as he stared at her.

  Lightning struck high above them, creating an electric show in the darkening sky.

  “They want you!” she called to him. “They’re going to hurt you, to get at me.”

  “Come on.” He made his way toward her, moving steadily and carefully. The rain was already running in rivulets down the underlayment. “We need to get down, Molly.”

  He was coming to help her, but she didn’t need it. “Get off the roof. Now.” She wasn’t backing down. No way. Whatever was happening she knew one thing—this was a standoff.

  Saul stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Come on. It’s okay. I’ve got hold of you. I won’t let you go. You’re not going to fall.”

  She heard the concern in his tone, but he didn’t realize the physical harm was coming to him, not her. She turned to face him, her chest touching his, her chin tipped up as she looked into his eyes. “It’s you they want to hurt.”

  “Let’s get you down to the ground and let’s get you down safely.” His eyes bored back into hers, his mouth set in a determined line.

  Molly nodded, understanding hitting her. “You feel it, too, don’t you?”

  A fleeting change of expression gave her the answer.

  “This is the curse,” she said. “They want to hurt us but I won’t let them.”

  “This is heavy stuff, Molly.”

  “You feel it.”

  “Yes,” he admitted, looking reluctant about having agreed with her.

  Thunder cracked and Molly shivered. He took a firm hold of her arms.

  “I told you we Mackillops were different,” she said, feeling tears sting her eyes and the rain wash them away before they hit her cheeks. “I didn’t want to believe in this curse before but now I have to.”

  “We’ll talk about it when we get you down.”

  Molly took hold of the T-shirt at his sides and clutched it. “Kiss me,” she told him. “Kiss me now. Here. Up on the roof.”

  “Molly—”

  It was the only way to show them. Goddamn them. This was a Mackillop place. This house. This roof. This town. This valley.

  “It’s real,” she told Saul, her voice entreating him to listen but without a whimper in its tone because she was no longer succumbing to fables and hearsay. “This is real, Saul. They’re around us. They haunt us.” She licked her lips, tasting rain. “I’m not crazy.” Her sensory perceptions hummed and sizzled. In her head, in her psyche.

  “You’re not crazy,” Saul said, his tone unwavering but his voice was raised because of the thunder and the pounding rain. “It’s okay, come on. We’re going down. I’m going to get you down.” But she saw his fear and knew it was for her, not for himself.

  “No,” she said firmly. “You’re going to kiss me. Now.” She could do it, she could reach up and kiss Saul, but that wouldn’t work. It had to come from him. “I’m going to show them they can’t mess with me or mine.” It didn’t matter that Saul wasn’t hers and never would be, it was the mental synergy between Saul and her that the great-grandfathers would feel. It was the fact that a Mackillop woman wanted a man to stay in the valley. That was what they’d hate.

  Stand firm, Molly.

  “Now,” she demanded.

  His eyes raked over her face, a frown on his brow, then he jolted hard, wincing as his head flew back—as though he’d been socked in the jaw.

  She clutched harder at his shirt.

  “Jesus,” he said. His body juddered and the tremor shook Molly too.

  “Do it!” she told him.

  He looked at her, his gaze darting between her eyes. “You scare the pants off me, Mackillop.” He took her in his arms, dragged her closer, lowered his head, and kissed her.

  Thunder and heaven arrived at once. A tumultuous beat inside her, like birds soaring, eager to be gone from the cliff edge after being shackled and caged. A white glare from lightning filtered behind her eyelids and the charge of the psychic attack on them faltered, as though it had been flayed with a whip and ripped to shreds. Oh, Alice—is this what you feel? Is this how it happens?

  As Saul kissed her, holding her tight, Molly fought hard to keep her mind on the reason for the kiss, and not on the sweet pressure from his mouth and the tough and protective feel of him. Or maybe by allowing appreciation of the man holding her into this new world that had descended upon her, she was using every force within her to fight the badness. Next to Saul like this, embraced by his arms and the strength of purpose he carried so easily and naturally, the vehement possession around them slipped.

  She felt the caress of a hand over her head, and although it was Saul’s hand, she also felt the hand of another, soft and caring, gloved in Saul’s. Her great-grandmother.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Unreal.” Molly shivered.

  “Are you all right?”

  Down on the ground, Molly was trembling but it was with elation, not fear. Perhaps with a lot of wonderment too. She was also soaked to the skin and didn’t care.

  “That was amazing,” she said. “Totally spooky unreal.”

  Saul was over by the hacienda steps, seemingly unwilling to touch her now they were off the roof, but she stood in the center of the courtyard, blinking hard as the rain pummeled her face and her body like warm water from the biggest shower head in the world.

  She threw her arms wide, head thrown back, “This is beautiful!” Joy infiltrated all parts of her mind and body.

  She had no idea what it was, or what it meant, but she was happy to drink it in. They’d done it. More than one ‘it’ too. They’d built the roof frame, gotten it covered before the storm, and now Molly had told the great-grandfathers where to get off. Fortunately, it hadn’t backfired resulting in either Molly or Saul falling off the roof.

  “Come on,” Saul called. “Let’s get inside.”

  “I’m staying here.” He hadn’t spoken much in the few minutes since he’d escorted her off the roof. He’d gone broody and reserved, not meeting her eye and not standing close.

  As they descended from the roof, he’d held onto her as though she might fall after all, even though she’d told him they were safe now. He’d made her climb down the ladder at the same time he had, protecting her with his body—which had made it a difficult climb and a slow one, but she’d understood his need of her safety and was appreciative of it. More than she could say. She’d never had any man put himself in danger for her.

  “Molly. Please. Come out of the rain.”

  She dropped her hands to her side and looked across at him. If she didn’t know what had happened to her, how could he possibly know or even begin to understand.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Sorry you were involved.”

  “I don’t know what the hell I was involved in,” he called back, putting his hands to his hips.

  He wasn’t frightened, not physically, but he’d been unnerved and who could blame him? The man had been drawn to Hopeless and Hopeless had gotten him involved in so much he hadn’t expected.

  “I don’t know what this is,” she told him. “It’s not me, I can’t do this spooky stuff.” She didn’t think she could, although she’d had a taste of it. “But I felt the badness up there. Then I felt you. And I’m sure—this is going to sound crazy and I don’t care—”

  “You’re not crazy. Stop saying that.”

  “I felt my great-grandmother,” she said, trying to make reckoning with that as she explained it to Saul. “I felt out of this world, you know?” How could he know? She didn’t know. “I’m not explaining it well. I don’t kno
w how to say it. It felt amazing. Wonderful. And powerful. Like I’d been charged with a thousand kilowatts of energy.”

  He stared at her in a kind of bewilderment mixed with unease. “Did it hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what it was that overcame me, or touched me or whatever, but it didn’t hurt.”

  “I don’t understand any of this.”

  By the look on his face he didn’t want to, and yet he’d asked, concerned for her.

  “I don’t want you here on your own,” he called, his tone still brusque and impatient. “You can’t live here alone, Molly.”

  But she’d never be alone. She’d always have Saul with her—the shadow of him. The echo of his smile. She’d feel him over her shoulder. Of course, she’d turn, and he wouldn’t be there, not in person, but he’d never leave her heart.

  “Yes, I can,” she told him. “This is my place.”

  Regardless of what she’d lose when he left tomorrow, she’d have this—her hacienda home and her business. Maybe it was all she was meant to have and she wasn’t going to complain. She’d cry a lot after saying goodbye to Saul. She’d throw things too, in all likelihood, but this was where she was meant to be. Nothing could change that. Not fate, not crazy psychic abilities, not anything.

  “I’m sorry you were caught in all of this.”

  He didn’t respond. Maybe it was time to lighten the mood. “At least your pants stayed on,” she said, smiling as she pointed at his jeans.

  “Don’t joke, Molly.” His features were now set in surly, masculine concern.

  The rain ran warm on her forehead, on her eyelids, on her cheeks and her mouth. She licked her lips and tasted the freshness of nature’s water. The dusty aroma of unexpectedly wet earth filled her nostrils with pleasure, and suddenly, she knew what he wanted. Correction—needed. She needed it too.

  She held out her arms to him.

  He blinked, not taking his focus off her.

  She waited, arms outstretched.

  After a few moments he gave a gruff exclamation, moved from the hacienda steps, and charged toward her with long strides.