Desert Guardian (4 page)

She
regarded him with a skeptical eye. Was Mr. Macho a sensitive-new-age guy? Or
was he only pacifying his clients for business reasons?

Her
father straightened, blew on his steaming mug, then took a cautious sip. "Thank
you, Mr. Reed, but it's late, and I should get back to my hotel." Setting
down his barely touched mug of coffee, he stood and tossed the plane tickets on
the coffee table.

Kelly
sat in stunned silence. She no longer felt angry, but neither did her heart
swell with affection for the man she'd despised her entire life. She peered up
at her father, eyes squinted against the headache her outburst had caused.

He
stepped forward, raising his arms for a hug, but she shrank away from him. He
nodded. "All right, then."

Once
her father left, Sam returned to the kitchen doorway and leaned against the jamb.
His eyes softened with sympathy. "Quite a family you got there."

"You're
telling me," she said on the tail end of a sigh. "I'd like to say I
feel sorry for my dad, but I don't."

"I'm
not familiar with your family's history, but from what you've told me, it
sounds like you and your brother suffered a fair amount of abuse while growing
up. You're still healing." He arched a quizzical brow while sipping from
his mug. "You said before that Jake's joining Star Mother was your fault.
Seems to me your dad had more to do with it than you did."

"I
never should have moved out and left Jake alone." She studied the surface
of her coffee, as if the brew would show her a different reality, one where
Jake was safe at home with his computer games and his comic books. She shook
her head. "I thought that since Jake was a senior in high school, it was
time for me to stop mothering him and let him be his own man. I had a new job
teaching phys ed at a local high school, and to be honest, I wanted to start
living my own life. I figured without me around, the two of them might do some
male bonding, you know? Go to ball games, fishing trips, guy stuff. Boy, was I
ever wrong." She gulped the hot coffee, burning her tongue. "It was
selfish of me to leave. I should have been there for him. If I had, my brother never
would have left like he did."

Sam
came up behind her and settled a warm hand on her shoulder. "You don't
know that."

She
savored the heat of his touch, the soothing cadence of his voice. "Yeah, I
do. But you know what makes me feel even worse?"

"What's
that?"

"When
I finally got my first letter from him telling me he was okay, that he'd joined
a wonderful new family called Star Mother, I felt happy for him. I thought he'd
found a perfect solution. But now..." Her throat started aching again, her
chest tight with grief. She angled her head back to gaze up at Sam. "I'm
sorry to drag you through my family's dirty laundry. It's not your problem."

"Don't
worry about it." He patted her shoulder and moved to stand in front of
her. "It's good to air out your problems now and then." His eyes
clouded in thought, like airing his thoughts might be something he craved
himself but never had the luxury. If he opened up to her, he could tell her
anything he wanted. Anything.

He
clapped his hands together. "Hey, you must be as exhausted as I am. I don't
have a guest room, but you're free to use my bed."

Heat
rushed to her cheeks. "Not with you in it, I hope."

He
coughed. "Of course not. I'll sleep on the couch."

"The
bed it is." She stretched and yawned before asking, "So when do we
leave tomorrow?"

He
tilted his head, his grin sardonic. "I've been thinking about that. It's
probably not a good idea for you to come with me. After what happened on the
highway a few hours ago, I think it's safer if you stay here."

She
must have heard him wrong. "We had a deal. I'm coming with you."

He
rubbed his chin and stared at the floor. "Sorry, but I work alone."

"You
mean you usually work alone. Not this time. Jake is my brother, and I'm
responsible for him. Besides, he won't listen to anyone but me—"

"No."
Sam stood rigid, shoulders tense. His face went completely blank, so Kelly
couldn't tell if he was angry, annoyed, or what. Kind of spooky, as if in an
instant he had wiped every emotion from his mind. No matter. She could be just
as stubborn.

"Look,
Mr. Macho Arrow," she said, stepping up close and tapping the middle of
his chest with her forefinger. "I'll pay half your fee now and the other
half when Jake is safe, but only on the condition that I come with you."

"No."

What
an infuriating man. "Fine. I'll find someone else to help me. Or better
yet, I'll do it myself." She yanked her backpack off the floor behind the
couch and headed for the door.

"Jacket."

She
turned to face him. "What?"

"I'd
like my jacket back, if you don't mind."

She
dropped the pack and shrugged out of the jacket, mumbling to herself, "Rude,
insensitive jerk." She threw it at him.

One
corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. "If you're planning to
hitch a ride, it's a half-mile walk to the main road, which doesn't get much
traffic. Especially not at two in the morning."

He
had a point. "Mind giving me a lift to a motel?"

He
closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.
"Tomorrow. I've done my work for today. Think you can survive my presence
until then?"

"Fine.
But
I'll
sleep on the couch."
The sneaky bastard. He knew she wasn't going anywhere tonight. He'd have his
way, but it was only temporary. She shuffled over to the cushy sofa with all
the inviting blankets. She'd had enough sparring for one night and didn't feel
right about taking the man's bed now that she was mad at him. Sam Reed was a
stubborn, arrogant ass. So why did her heart flutter when she thought about his
bed?

"Suit
yourself, but the bed is still up for grabs," he said, and headed for the
front door. "I'll be out on the porch if you need me."

"What
will you do out there?"

"Stand
watch," he said as he opened the door. "Somebody tried to kill us. It's
not safe. If you stay inside, you will be. Call me if you need anything.
Goodnight."

Her
heart made another little flip inside her chest. "'Night."

****

As
Kelly floated between sleep and wakefulness, her mind spun within a
kaleidoscope of childhood memories. Jake's plump, ten-year-old face loomed
before her, his freckles like spatters of chocolate from one of the hot fudge
sundaes he loved so much. Eyes as blue as hers gazed at her sadly, but with
affection. He held up a tiny, white box tied with sapphire ribbon. "This
is for you," he said in his squeaky, little boy's voice. "I hope it
makes you feel better."

She
remembered that night. She’d been sixteen and crying her eyes out over Tommy
Lombardi, the boy who had stood her up the night of her junior prom. She had
spent her entire allowance on the secondhand gown she'd found at a thrift
store, the poofy, pink chenille making her look like a giant ball of cotton
candy. She had even curled her hair with borrowed hot rollers from Mrs.
Coolidge across the street.

But
Tommy Lombardi never showed.

She’d
found out later that he'd taken his ex-girlfriend to the prom instead.

Jake
had watched Kelly prepare for her big date. The dress, curlers, and make-up
were sissy stuff to him, but he understood how important it was that she look
nice for Tommy, who Jake had thought was just a big jerk. Turned out he was
right.

So when
the clock struck seven, then eight, then nine, and still no Tommy, she'd been
fairly certain he wasn't going to show up. Not wanting her father to witness
her rejection and then tease her about it, she had crept out from her room and
fled to their backyard tree house for a good cry.

It
hadn't taken Jake long to find her sitting on the pink chenille cloud of her
ruined dress, her curled hair a tangled mess of bobby pins and clip-on ribbons,
while blubbering her way through an entire box of tissues.

"Stop
crying, okay?" he had said, dropping the gift box in her lap. "You
don't need that stupid old Tommy Lombardi anyway."

Between
sobs, she had said, "What do you know about broken hearts, huh? You're
just a kid."

The
insult hadn't fazed him. They'd been trading them since he was two. "We
can have our own prom, right here in the tree house."

She
blinked up at him, aware that her face was streaked with running mascara and
smudges of kohl eyeliner. "Our own prom? Are you nuts?"

He
pulled a transistor radio from the back pocket of his jeans. "We got
music, see?" He tugged a liter bottle of cherry soda from a plastic
shopping bag. "And punch."

He
switched on the radio, tuning it to her favorite station. The Righteous
Brothers' re-release of
Unchained Melody
was playing. Jake held his hand out to her. "Wanna dance?"

"Wait,"
she said, and plucked the tiny box from her lap. "I haven't opened this
yet." She pulled the ribbon loose and lifted the box's top. Nestled on a
square of cotton was a sparkling cluster of purple rhinestones set within a
ring of silver. Tommy all but forgotten now, Kelly gasped as she lifted the
pendant from its cotton nest. "Jake, where did you get this?" She
scowled at him. "You didn't steal it, did you?"

"Nah.
I bought it at the drugstore with my allowance." Looking sheepish, he
added, "I got it for fifty percent off 'cause one of the stones is
missing."

"You
spent all your money?"

He
shook his head. "I got plenty left. Here, let me put it on you."

He
slipped the necklace around her neck, clasping the chain in back. "Like
it?"

Her
eyes tingled with the threat of tears but not from sadness this time. "It's
beautiful, Jake. Thank you."

His
cherubic face beamed with pride as he gazed at the glistening piece of jewelry.
"Wanna dance now?"

"Sure.
Why not." Kelly knelt in front of him so that he was a couple of inches
taller than her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and he settled his
small, pudgy fingers at her waist. As they rocked back and forth in time with
the music, she told him, "Jake, this is the best prom I could ever have."

The
strains of
Unchained Melody
filled
her mind as her dream morphed into something else. Suddenly, it was Sam she
danced with. Together they swayed in time with the music as the vast desert
surrounded them and the rising sun glowed orange over the horizon. The heat of
Sam's body so intimately close to hers made desire pool like lava in her belly.
His large hands curved around her ribcage, his thumbs gently massaging the
swell of her breasts. She tilted her head back to gaze into his eyes and—

An
eerie sense of being watched tugged her completely from sleep. She opened her
eyes to a young Hispanic woman staring down at her. Kelly cried out in
surprise.

She
heard Sam's fast footsteps thud in her direction. "What's happened? What's
wrong?"

Kelly
shot up from the couch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The woman who'd
been watching her sleep stood calmly by the couch, her dark eyes never leaving
Kelly. No older than twenty, she wore a plain pink T-shirt over denim shorts,
her black hair tied in two long pigtails that hung down either side of her
neck. She didn't say a word, just held on to a tiny, silver whistle that
dangled from a chain around her neck. Kelly widened her eyes when she saw the
thick, ropey scar across the woman's throat.

"Who's
that?" Kelly asked Sam, her voice hoarse from sleep. "She scared me
half to death."

He
smiled and patted the young woman's shoulder. "This is Consuela Martinez.
She's my housekeeper, but today isn't her usual day to work." He looked at
Consuela and asked, "Is everything okay at home?"

Consuela
nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Kelly heard cupboards opening, then
the clanking of metal pans.

"Doesn't
she speak English?" Kelly asked.

He
shook his head. "She understands English, but she can't speak. Her vocal
chords were cut a year ago."

Kelly
absently touched her own throat and winced. "How did it happen?"

He
sat on the couch and motioned for her to sit beside him. He glanced over his
shoulder toward the kitchen then said quietly, "When two of her teenage
brothers tried to kidnap her from the cult she belonged to, she refused to
leave. Her screams got the attention of the cult guards, who tried to run her
brothers off. But the boys pulled guns on them."

Trigger-happy
kids. "Was anyone shot?"

"When
the guards slipped Consuela a knife, the brothers dropped their guns because
they were afraid she'd hurt herself. And they were right. She used it to slit
her own throat."

Her
stomach lurched. "Oh, my God. Why would she do such a thing?"

"It
was a cult rule. If anyone tried to kidnap her, she'd been ordered to take her
own life."