A Wolf in the Desert (23 page)

He led her from the terrace and onto the grounds. Before the morning ended she knew more of Matthew's sad childhood and his rebellious teen years. She knew of the great influence his grandfather had played in his life. And though he dismissed his own influence, by reading between the lines, she knew that Simon had been instrumental in Matthew's reconciliation with the mother he thought had abandoned him.

“When he understood that she'd only done what was best for him when she left him at the reservation following his father's burial, he stopped hating Sibella and the part of himself that wasn't Apache. Without that hatred, he found he could live in both worlds,” Simon finished.

“In the end, he came to work for you.”

“He has for years. In some things I know him better than he knows himself.” Simon led her to a curve in the path they followed. “He'll be back, O'Hara.” He used the name Matthew had given her naturally, as if he'd heard it many times in the hours before Matthew had left for the desert. “Give him a week. Patrick and Jordana always welcome anyone from The Watch, for any reason, and Maria would be delighted to have someone to fuss over.

“Stay,” he urged. “Rest. Call your family, tell them you're all right.” He looked out over towering spires and rich red walls of rock. Beyond them lay the desert. “But above all, if you love him, wait for Matthew.”

* * *

Patience waited.

In the luxury of Patrick McCallum's villa, she rested, and read, and walked. She arranged the return of Jesus's truck, and for the horses to be kept at the villa stables until they could be returned to the range. She called her family and discovered that as accustomed as they were to various members being out of touch for indefinite times, they hadn't thought to worry. She glossed over the adventure and mentioned Matthew only casually. She read some more, and walked some more.

Simon called regularly from Washington. Once to say the information Matthew had gathered in the desert was enough to bring in the Wolves. They would be arraigned on a variety of charges. Some of their contacts were lost, but there would come a day, he promised. Matthew, he told her, continued to recover. The renegade who had never been had resigned from The Watch. And when a particular problem was resolved, and he stopped being hardheaded, he would surely be along. If she would wait.

Maria fussed happily.

Patience waited for Matthew.

On a bright morning of the second week, at the sound of the car stopping in the drive, Patience closed the bag Maria had reluctantly supplied then insisted on filling with clothing bought for her stay. Her goodbyes and her thanks had been expressed to the staff, so there was nothing left to do. “My ride waits. It's time to go home.”

Sinking into a chair, she folded her hands tightly in her lap. “I'll miss this.” She didn't speak of the luxury, or even the beauty. She'd fallen in love with the stark land as she had with Matthew. “But there'll be another place for me. Somewhere.”

But never another love. Never another Matthew.

The melancholy refrain rang in her thoughts as she stood, smoothed down the brown skirt, adjusted the black jacket, gathered up her bag, and stepped from her room.

The house was curiously quiet and, oddly, no one was around as she made her way to the front entrance. She was closing the heavy door behind her while she juggled the bag when a hand lifted it from her shoulder.

“Going somewhere, O'Hara?”

Patience spun around, her hands going to her mouth. She could hardly believe it was Matthew standing in front of her. He wore a rancher's dress clothing, a tailored jacket, tailored trousers, handmade boots, and, incredibly, a hat. All of it magnificent on him. She realized then that he wore everything, or nothing at all, magnificently. “Matthew!” she managed when she found her voice. “What are you doing here?”

He set down her bag and moved closer. “My question first.”

Lacing her fingers behind her back, she leaned against the carved door. “Home.” She opened her mouth to say more, but nothing came to mind. “I'm going home.”

“Callie has a new home.” Seemingly apropos of nothing, he followed the thread of a single word, not ready to deal with the answer he'd demanded. “A place in North Carolina called Stone Meadow. A halfway house established not so long ago for young people who've suffered through what she has.” A flicker of sorrow crossed his face. “Some have been helped at the house, others not. I stayed there with her for a time, and I think she'll be one of the lucky ones.

“She has a new kitten. She can have dozens, if she likes. The barns at Stone Meadow are populated with mousers who reproduce with astonishing regularity. They're undoubtedly the most pampered mousers in the world, for the kids lavish the love they've never had on them.”

“Does Callie hate me?” Patience asked. “For leaving her?”

“Callie doesn't hate anyone, it isn't her nature. Even so, she would never hate you.” A smile ghosted over his face. “Would you like to guess the kitten's name?”

“Calico?”

Only the slightest move of his head told her she was wrong. “What do you think of Patience? Doctor Patience, in fact.”

Patience laughed softly, even as she blinked back tears. “A cumbersome name for a small kitten.”

“She'll grow to it, Callie will see that she does. They're safe, O'Hara. Callie's safe, and so is her kitten.”

“Thank you for that, Matthew.”

He didn't acknowledge her gratitude, he hardly heard it, his mind and heart were too full of Patience, and his need too great to wait a moment longer. He took a step toward her, closing even the little distance between them. “Simon told me you would be here.”

He was so close she could feel the heat of his body, yet he didn't touch her. His gaze beneath the brim of the Stetson was unfathomable. Patience waited.

“He told me why, O'Hara.”

She didn't respond, she couldn't.

Levelly, as if he were discussing the weather, Matthew continued, “I could have picked up the telephone and called, but I didn't think I had the right. Simon named me six kinds of fool, and I guess I have been.” With the tip of his thumb, he tilted the brim of his hat, and out of its shadow his face was grave. “I've never loved anyone before, and no one's loved me. Until I found you in the desert, I didn't know how forgiving love could be, or how much I needed both.”

A tingle of shock rushed through her, were it not for the support of the door, her knees would have buckled. Matthew had said what she'd wanted desperately, yet what did it mean? What did he want from her? Hope and fear roughened her voice. “Why are you here?”

“Isn't it obvious? I came for the woman I claimed long ago. The woman Simon said would be waiting because she loves me.” He brushed a fingertip over her cheek, catching a tear that trembled on a lash. “Was he wrong?”

Patience leaned her head back against the door, closing her eyes for only a moment. But when she opened them again, the last of her doubts were resolved, her gaze was serene and direct. “He wasn't wrong. I love you, Matthew.”

He held himself motionless. “And Indian?”

She nodded, never taking her gaze from his beloved face. “And Indian.”

He drew a labored breath, letting her see the hunger in him, not so contained, no longer controlled. “What I'm wearing now, it's who I am when I'm not on assignment. I'm a rancher. My spread is a couple of hours from here. Can you live with that?”

“Apache, white man, warrior, warlock, spy, rancher. Indian, Matthew.” Breathing a sigh she shook her head in mock exasperation with herself. “Just like an O'Hara, so many to love, so little time.”

“That's a yes?”

“Most definitely a yes.” She reached out to him, touching him, and was pleased with the low sound of delight her touch drew from him.

A sudden frown creased his forehead. “Do you like my hat?”

She was startled by the abrupt question. “Of course I do.”

“Good.” Before the word was finished the hat was spinning into the yard.

“Matthew! Why on earth did you do that?”

“Because I'm going to kiss you, and I don't want anything in the way.” His hands were at her waist, bringing her body to his. “After I kiss you, I'm going to make love to you. After I make love to you, I'm going to ask you to marry me. Then I'm going to take you home. My home. Our home. Where there are lots of critters that need a vet, and a man who needs you more.”

Patience was laughing as she went into his arms. “In case you're too busy later to hear my answer, it's yes. Again.”

His laughter was a growl in his throat. As his mouth took hers, she knew she'd found the true wolf in the desert. And with the wolf she would abide in love, and make her home forever.

* * * * *

ISBN: 978-1-4592-8686-3

A Wolf in the Desert

Copyright © 1995 by BJ James

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