Love's Dream Song (22 page)

Yet she not only stuck it out, she actually enjoyed his desert country. Her efforts to know her family had not flagged, but in fact had become more determined.

He didn’t want any part of that quest. Every waking moment was a struggle to forget he was part
Dineh
. Autumn’s hunger to belong pricked at bruised parts of his conscience.

“Jess,” she murmured as she tilted her head.

He couldn’t stop staring into her eyes. They were shiny black, like the Apache tears Daya used to wear around her neck, and they were filled with caring and trust.

“You’re restless. Am I uncomfortable on you?”

“You’re fine. I was thinking of the past.”

“Is that what haunts you?”

An appropriate choice of words
, he thought. “I thought I’d shaken the ways of The People, yet last night…”

“When you’re in trouble, you always go back to your source of strength.”

Yes, well, he didn’t want to turn to the way of The People. And what trouble had he been in? Certainly there’d been worse crises in his life. He thought of his tour of duty in Special Services, the close calls he’d had while training the Contras in Honduras, and the brushes with death while chasing down drug dealers from here to Panama. In all honesty, he had looked to Daya’s teachings in those situations.

Daya’s image formed in his memory. Her words echoed the prophecy.
When it comes to matters of the heart
. He looked at Autumn. Awareness of her body pressed to his filled him with warmth and a protectiveness that was strange, yet pleasing.

“You know, I learned something while trapped in that cave.” She shifted, placing her hand on his.

It was all he could do to concentrate on her words. “Did you rediscover your source of strength?”

“Yes. But I also learned that I was searching for it in the wrong places. I thought it was important that I be accepted by the clan—that I couldn’t be who I really was until I learned their ways.”

He couldn’t understand the sinking sensation he felt or his desire to close his mind to her words. He’d fought this battle already and lost. “Who you are doesn’t depend on the approval of others.”

“I know that now, but you see, I let it hurt me when Arlo and the others didn’t welcome me. I still don’t understand why he kept me away from my grandfather.”

Jess tried not to allow the guilt to creep up on him. He’d been right to warn Arlo about Autumn. There had been no way of knowing she was innocent. That rationalization didn’t make it any easier for him to admit his part in the clan’s behavior.

“You mustn’t take it personally.”

“Oh, sure.” She shrugged and then winced when the action caused her pain. “What am I supposed to think? I know it isn’t just because I’m mostly
bilagáana
. There are plenty of non-Navajo marriages and friendships…”

He cut into her tirade with the quiet declaration, “It was my fault they didn’t accept you.”

His words silenced her. She stared for long moments, her gaze probing uncomfortably deep.

“I told you about my suspicions concerning the drug operation.”

“They were in on that, too?” Dismay sounded in her voice.

“Your uncle was my contact on the reservation. Until this venture, all of the major activity has been in his territory.”

“You mean the clan has been involved in drugs?”

“Not your grandfather’s, but several of The People have been cashing in on the action. The reservation is under Navajo jurisdiction, so the government can’t touch them.”

“They have their own police?”

“Right,” he said. “Often, a clan will protect their members from outside punishment, even if they know of the drug trafficking.”

“Then, how could my uncle help you?”

“He was traditional in his ways, don’t forget. He hated Anglos, but he hated more the disharmony that drugs caused. He wanted all the evil cleared from the reservation.”

“And he thought I was part of that evil?”

Jess turned away from the confusion and hurt in her expression. Knowing his actions were justified didn’t make her suffering easier to bear. “Your uncle and I have been working together for years to get rid of the blight that plagues this area.”

“I can’t imagine a drug operation big enough to bother with. There aren’t that many people out here.”

“Exactly why it’s a good drop-off point. Planes fly the stuff in from across the border. They usually land on remote sections of the reservation.”

He rubbed his forehead to ease some of the ache beginning to form. The loss of a night’s sleep, along with the stress from worry, were taking their toll. “The dealers usually get Indians to handle the receiving end. This time, they’d outfoxed us and were operating from my ranch.”

“They must not know you’re an agent.”

“We’re undercover.”

“There are more of you?”

He clamped his jaw. He’d said too much. She’d be better off not knowing about Valdez and the others.

“What about Real Tall Man?” He heard the catch in her voice. “Did he suspect me also?”

Autumn held her breath, afraid to know the answer, yet needing to hear it.

“Your uncle wanted to tell Real Tall Man. We advised him not to. The fewer people involved, the better.”

“Thomas and Lee?”

“They knew.”

Of course they would. The state legislature was probably working in conjunction with Jess’s task force. Her mind reeled when she thought about her uncles suspecting her of operating a drug ring. No wonder they’d been reserved. She was lucky she’d been able to see Real Tall Man at all.

Jess interrupted her speculations. “It’s been difficult for Real Tall Man. He’s been torn with wanting to welcome you, yet respecting the requests of his sons.”

“He thinks they resent my mother.”

“I don’t know how they feel about her. You’ll have to ask.” Her eyes closed with the sadness that came when she realized she wouldn’t be able to settle any of this with Arlo. It was too late for that.

“Do you think Arlo died believing I was…”

“No.” He pressed his fingertips to her lips and silenced her. “He must have realized you were innocent at the same time I did. They wouldn’t have knocked you unconscious if you were working with them.”

“Arlo was standing there.” She accepted the relief at knowing he’d learned of her innocence.

“He tried to save your life. That’s why they shot him.”

Those words erased the relief. “You mean he died because of me?”

“Don’t blame yourself. It happened. No one could prepare for the unexpected like that.”

“How can I bear that?” She buried her face against his chest and tried to still the silent ache.

He tightened his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t think about what might have been. At least he died knowing you were innocent. That means something to him and will be of comfort to Real Tall Man.”

She took a deep breath and forced control. Her body protested when she pulled out of Jess’s embrace and sat up.

“You’re right.” The shakiness in her voice betrayed her emotions. “Time to move.”

“Here, let me help you.” Jess scrambled up to steady her when she stood. “You’re still weak.”

Dizziness assailed her. Jess grasped her elbow and she welcomed the support. The heat didn’t help. “I promise not to guzzle that water. Let me go get in it.”

Jess hesitated for a moment and then guided her across the grass. “You’re right. It’s hot. I wouldn’t mind a swim myself.”

It didn’t take her long to shed her boots. She didn’t bother to take off her torn clothes. In minutes, she’d slipped into the cool water. At first the water stung her cuts, but after the initial shock, the cool liquid soothed.

“This is heaven,” she sighed, turning to face Jess.

He’d taken off his boots and was shedding his shirt. His skin glistened in the sunlight, the contours solid beneath the play of muscle as he stripped. She couldn’t help but admire the lean, masculine lines—the way his waist narrowed from the broad shoulders, the striated lines across the flat planes of his abdomen.

When he caught her staring, he stilled. With the rugged desert terrain behind him, he looked powerful and male, like a warrior prepared to take what was his.

Slowly, he stepped into the spring. As he approached, the water inched higher to cover his jeans-clad thighs, then his waist, leaving his bare chest for her view. She wanted to touch him, but couldn’t move.

“Does that feel better?” His voice was strained and she knew he felt the same tension she did.

“I think I’ll stay here for the rest of the day.”

He chuckled, deep and seductive. Another step brought him closer. Autumn remained motionless, the water lapping just above her breasts. Beneath half-closed eyelids, his silver glance captured hers. Passion and desire radiated from him.

Her heart pounded as her awareness heightened. This man had come to her rescue. He’d wrestled with personal doubts to find her. She wanted to tell him how much that meant to her, but she couldn’t get the words past her constricted throat.

Without speaking, he moved in front of her. The water bounced from his bare chest to hers. The soft strokes caressed her and she wondered if the water had become charged with the sensations flowing between them.

Underwater he reached for her hands and brought them above the surface. He inspected the bruised flesh, gently prodding with the pads of his thumbs.

“The cuts don’t look too deep.” His breath fanned her face, cooling the damp skin. “You’ll be sore for a while.”

She closed her fists to hide the ugliness. “They’ll be fine. I heal quickly.”

“I have some medicinal herbs. Your grandfather sent them with me.”

His comment surprised her. Until today, she wouldn’t have expected Jess to take much stock in the healing practices of a medicine man. She didn’t question it. She’d accept the gift, knowing Real Tall Man cared if he’d gone to the trouble to create a dry painting for her safety.

From his back pocket, he pulled out the bandanna and began to wash the dirt from her arms. His gentle caring soothed the emotional wounds, while the cool water took care of the physical.

When he’d finished with her arms, he placed the bandanna in the palm of her hand and closed her fingers over it. Slowly, he began unbuttoning her shirt. He started at the top and paused, clearly giving her the opportunity to protest his actions. She didn’t move, anticipating the release of each button.

The shirt floated free and he slipped it off her shoulders. It drifted away from her body and started to sink. She barely noticed it in her peripheral vision. Her attention was on the way his pulse had quickened. It pounded through the vein in his neck, much like hers was doing.

The breeze caressed her bare shoulders. Water lapped at the curves still encased in black lace. He trailed his hands up her arms, rounding her shoulders and finally settling in the curve of her neck. From there he massaged with his thumbs until he reached her lips.

His full attention was on her mouth. Her lips quivered under the heat of his gaze, the magic of his touch. With one thumb he caught her lower lip and pulled it down. His head lowered in slow motion until his lips brushed hers.

He pulled back at her sharp intake of breath and smiled. His fingers gently massaged her neck. “Does this feel better?”

She lowered her head in a slow-motion nod. “It’s not cooling me off,” she informed him.

His laugh reverberated in the canyon, rich and full-bodied. “We’d better put our attention back to your healing.”

She smiled her agreement, unable to tell him she’d prefer to pursue the other. But she held back, not trusting her instincts just yet. She still felt vulnerable and weak from her night in the cave.

Jess must have sensed her hesitation because he shifted his attitude from male appreciation to a more impersonal tone. He took the bandanna from her numb fingers and, careful not to hurt her or touch sensitive parts of her body, continued to bathe her.

He tried to be casual, but she wasn’t doing very well. His naked chest glistened in the sun. She wanted to smooth her fingers over the copper skin. His wet hair clung to the angled planes of his face. She wanted to feather her fingers in the thick strands. His lips were pressed firm in resistance to his emotions. She wanted to brush hers across the thin line and sample the masculine taste of him.

She did nothing, but remained still while he bathed her. Finally, she could take no more. She grasped the bandanna from his hands and smoothed it over the hard muscles of his chest, back and arms. His eyes were full of desire. Her heart was full of love.

The cry of the eagle interrupted her thoughts. He soared past, his sharp eyes on the lookout for prey.

“Swift eagle,” she murmured.

Jess leaned back, the desire in his expression suddenly gone. “What did you say?”

“The eagle.” She pointed to the bird as it soared overhead. “He’s swift. That’s all.”

“My grandmother told me a woman would remind me of my name.”