Til Death Do Us Part (14 page)

“Send one of your best men,” J.T. said. “I'll consider it a personal favor.”

“I'm sending Landers, Hal Landers. You don't know him. He's a fairly new agent, but he's fast become one of our best.”

With her arms still wrapped around J.T., Joanna turned her face and looked at Dane Carmichael. “How will your agent recognize Lenny Plott if he's changed his appearance? He could come into town, even come out here to the ranch, and no one would know who he was.”

“Landers will be working with the local authorities to keep an eye on any strangers coming into Trinidad,” Dane told her. “He'll get settled in town, then he'll stop by the ranch and introduce himself. If you need him before he makes contact, just give me a call.”

“Agent Carmichael?” Joanna called out to him.

“Yes, ma'am?”

“Please let me know as soon as you find Claire. No matter what.”

“Yes, ma'am, I'll give J.T. a call.”

“Thank you,” she said. “J.T., why don't you see Agent Carmichael to the door?”

“I'll see myself out,” Dane said.

The minute they were alone, J.T. lifted Joanna into his arms, sat down in the plaid chair by the fireplace and held her in his lap. Cuddling in his arms, she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Claire's dead,” Joanna said. “I know she's dead.”

“Maybe not, honey.”

“He's going to come after Libby and me. But which one of us is going to be next?”

“If he comes after you—”

“
When
he comes after me,” Joanna corrected J.T.

“When he comes after you, he'll have to face me.” J.T. took her chin in his hand and looked directly at her. “I told you before, nobody's going to get to you without going through me first, and so far, nobody's ever gone through me.”

She tried to smile, but could manage only a faint curve of her lips. She closed her eyes and sighed. He kissed her closed eyelids, then drew her into his arms, holding her, soothing her, reassuring her.

Why had life played such a cruel joke on her, bringing J.T. into her life at the same time Lenny Plott escaped from prison? She'd spent the past four years in New Mexico, dreaming of and searching for a love of her own to equal the one her great-grandmother had found. Now, when there was a chance of that dream coming true, her life was in danger. And the one person who stood between her and certain death was the man she loved.

“P
LEASE TRY NOT
to worry about me too much.” Joanna kissed her mother on the cheek. “J.T. will do everything possible to keep me safe. And now that there'll be FBI agents in Trinidad keeping a lookout for Lenny Plott, it should be only a matter of time before they arrest him.”

Helene hugged Joanna, then released her. Holding Joanna's hands in hers, she smiled. “I can't stay. As much as I would like to be here with you, I have too many obligations back in Richmond. And since you refuse to come home with me, then—”

Joanna squeezed her mother's hands. “There's absolutely nothing you could do if you stayed here. As a matter of fact, we're probably better off with a couple of thousand miles between us. If we were together, we'd only end up arguing. You were too accustomed to running my life when I lived in Richmond, and since moving to Trinidad, I've become used to making all my own decisions.”

“I still think you're making a mistake getting involved with J. T. Blackwood,” Helene whispered, then glanced over her shoulder at J.T., who stood on the ranch-house porch, watching and waiting for her departure.

“If having an affair with J.T. is a mistake, then it's my mistake, Mother.”

“I don't want to see you hurt again. I simply couldn't bear—”

“You'd better get going.” Joanna tugged on her mother's arm. “Alex and Elena are waiting in the Jeep.”

“They're very nice people,” Helene said. “I'm glad you have them as friends. But friends can never take the place of family. Remember that.”

“If y'all don't get started right now, Mother, you'll miss your plane,” Joanna said.

“I wish you could at least ride into Santa Fe with us.”

Joanna opened the Jeep door and assisted her mother inside, then leaned over and kissed her again. “I'll call you often to let you know I'm all right.” Joanna closed the door.

Helene waved goodbye as Alex drove away; Joanna watched the departing vehicle until all she saw was a trail of dust.

J.T. put his arm around Joanna's shoulders. “It would be nice if we all had perfect parents.”

“I wonder if anyone does?”

“Probably not,” J.T. said. “After all, parents are only human beings, with faults and weaknesses. I used to blame my parents for all my problems, for all my unhappiness. But that was when I was a boy. When I grew up, I realized that they were just a couple of kids who fell in love and were too young to overcome all the obstacles in their path. Mainly old John Thomas.”

“I'm not sure my parents were ever in love. I think their marriage was more or less a merger of two old Virginia families.”

“Marriages have been based on far less.”

“Why have you never married, J.T.?” She slipped her arm around his waist.

“I decided a long time ago that I wasn't the marrying kind, honey. I'm a hardheaded, cynical son of a bitch, who doesn't like to compromise. I'd make a lousy husband.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Nope.”

“I thought I was in love with Todd, but I came to realize that what Todd and I had was a lot like what Mother and Daddy had. We were compatible, came from the same social circle and probably would have had a fairly contented life together. At least for a while. Until the day came when I discovered that I needed more in a relationship.”

“I suppose that's what happened to Annabelle,” J.T. said. “After sixteen years of marriage, she decided she wanted some passion in her life.”

“You've changed your mind about Annabelle and Benjamin, haven't you?” Joanna nudged J.T. in the ribs. “Come on. Admit it. You know there was more to their relationship than a summer affair.”

“I concede that there might have been more going on.” He gave Joanna's arm a gentle yank, guiding her into motion. “Come on. You need to go change into something comfortable for riding.”

“We're going riding?” she asked. “Now?”

“It's a beautiful day. Not hellfire hot. Alex and Elena graciously volunteered to take care of your mother for us, so that gives us the day to ourselves.”

“What if Agent Landers tries to contact you?” Joanna asked.

“I'll take my cellular phone. I'm sure Dane gave Landers all the numbers where I can be reached. Now quit making excuses and go get changed.” J.T. shoved her across the yard. She glared at him, then laughed.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought we'd ride back out to the old archaeological dig, and after that, I have a surprise for you.”

What J.T. wanted more than anything was to get her mind off the fact that Claire Andrews had been kidnapped
and no one had any idea where she was. Sure, the odds were that Plott had her, and she was probably dead. But they'd face that reality if and when they found Claire's body. He was sorry for Melody Horton and Claire Andrews. He hoped the Feds caught up with Plott before he got to Libby Felton, if Libby was next on his list. But his main concern was Joanna—keeping her safe and sane, until Plott was back behind bars.

“Why don't you go get our horses ready while I change,” Joanna said. “I won't be long.”

“We've got all day. No need to rush.” J.T. followed her up the steps to the bunkhouse porch.

She stopped dead still, turned slowly and looked at him. “You
are
going to stick to me like glue, aren't you?”

“I'm not going to take any chances where your safety is concerned. Consider us temporarily joined at the hip.”

She nodded, turned and went inside, with J.T. directly behind her. He waited patiently for her to change into boots, jeans and a cotton shirt. When she came out of the bedroom carrying her hat, J.T. took it from her and set it on her head.

“You look like a real cowgirl now, honey.” He kissed her, quick and hard, yet nondemandingly.

She loved the way he smiled when he looked at her, as if he found the sight of her delightful. She and J.T. were lovers now and that should mean they were relaxed around each other. But Joanna found herself trying to second-guess his thoughts and actions. What exactly had their making love meant to him? Was she more important to him than the other women he'd had sex with over the years? Or was she nothing more than his latest affair?

She watched him while he prepared Washington and a spirited mare named Playtime. He checked his rifle before attaching the scabbard to the saddle. He packed his Glock
in the saddlebags, along with a couple of flashlights, a flask of water and his cellular phone. Then he tied down a folded blanket.

“Flashlights and a blanket,” Joanna said. “I'm getting curious about this surprise of yours.”

“Don't start asking questions. Just wait and see.”

They rode off Blackwood property and onto Hezekiah Mahoney's. Within an hour they had reached the eastern section of Mahoney's ranch, where the old dig was located near the foothills of the mountain. Although Joanna had painted the vibrant colors of this land time and time again, the breathtaking beauty of the red sandstone canyons, the mushroom-shaped cliffs and the golden cottonwood trees that grew along the arroyos would always make her want to put brush to canvas.

Giving their horses a rest, they walked, hand in hand, over the old archaeological site. The earth had long since given up most of her buried treasures here, leaving only a random find for the occasional student whom eighty-four-year-old Hezekiah allowed on his property.

Joanna tried to imagine what her great-grandfather's campsite would have looked like. Closing her eyes she could almost smell the cook fires burning. Could almost hear the sound of Annabelle's young sons, one her own grandfather, laughing while they played. Could almost see a young Navajo silversmith gazing down from his Appaloosa stallion at the woman who was to become the one true love of his life.

“Hey, wake up.” J.T. nudged her. “Where were you? Off in some dream?”

“Just trying to picture what this place must have looked like in 1925, the summer my great-grandparents worked here.”

“Fantasizing about Annabelle and Benjamin's first meeting?” J.T. asked.

“Yes, that, of course,” she admitted. “But wondering how my great-grandfather could have been so blind. His wife was having an affair right under his nose and he didn't suspect a thing.”

“Maybe he did,” J.T. said. “Maybe he just chose to keep his mouth shut and pretend nothing was happening.”

“But how…why?”

“He must have known she wasn't in love with him, since her father had arranged their marriage.” J.T. took Joanna's hand in his while they traipsed around the old site. “He was a lot older than she was, and my guess is they weren't sexually compatible. Ernest Beaumont would have been pretty sure his wife would never give up her sons, and that's exactly what she'd have had to do if she'd left him.”

“So, you're saying you think my great-grandfather simply stood by and endured Annabelle's affair, knowing in the end, she'd return to Virginia with him.”

“Think about it. It makes sense.”

Joanna kicked the dirt under her feet, stirring up some ancient dust. “Can you imagine the intense emotions, the high level of tension? I'm surprised we can't still feel it in the air around us.”

“I think you're feeling some of it right now, aren't you, Jo?” He whirled her around and into his arms. “It's all right to get a bit caught up in our ancestors' lives. For the time being, it's good for you to have other things to think about. But keep in mind that these were their lives, not ours. You're not Annabelle and I'm not Benjamin.”

“Yes, I know. I'm not a married woman with two children. You're not a poor Navajo youth. The obstacles that kept Annabelle and Benjamin apart don't exist for us.
Where their affair was doomed from the start, ours isn't. We're free to do whatever we want with our lives.”

J.T. stared at her, his gaze softening. He caressed her cheek. “What I want right now is to show you my surprise.”

He didn't want to think too deeply about his feelings for Joanna. She was a woman who deserved far more than he could ever give her. She needed more than his passion, more than the momentary pleasure they found in each other's arms.

“What's the surprise? Where is it?” J.T. thought she looked like a little girl, bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked and almost giddy at the prospect of being given a secret present. He hoped she wouldn't be disappointed. He didn't think she would be. But often reality dulled beside the brilliance of fantasy.

“It's about a three-mile ride from here. Up the side of the mountain.”

J.T. led her to their horses and helped her mount, then guided them up the mountainside. With the jagged peaks high above, the yellow pine and white oak trees kissing the royal-blue sky and an almost-holy solitude surrounding them, he dismounted, lifted her off Playtime and held her in his arms. She clung to him, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.

Sliding her slowly down his body, he caressed her. Releasing her, he turned and undid one saddlebag and retrieved two flashlights. He handed one to her. “Come with me.”

She removed her hat and hung it on the saddle horn. Then she followed him to the mouth of a cave, partially hidden from view by an outcropping of scrubby bushes.

“Take a look,” he said, moving aside to allow her entrance.

Switching on her flashlight, she aimed the beam into the cave and took a tentative step inside. She sucked in a deep breath. J.T. turned on his flashlight and doubled the illumination inside the cave as he urged her to venture farther.

Together they explored the small cavern. Able to walk upright less than twelve feet inside, they stopped when the sandstone ceiling had gradually lowered from a good eight feet to less than five. From there, the cave decreased to a crawl space.

“Is this what I think it is?” Joanna asked.

“I believe so,” J.T. said.

“How did you know about this place?”

“I discovered this cave when I was about eleven. I used to ride all over, exploring. I knew someone had used this place as a refuge of some sort, but not until I read part of Annabelle's diary did I put two and two together.”

Joanna ran the flashlight's beam over the floor, where an animal skin of some sort still lay. Had Annabelle and Benjamin made love, their bodies entwined, on that fur rug? A shimmering glow of light reflected off the shattered pieces of a kerosene lamp, the bottom portion broken into only two pieces.

“I found this cave when Cliff and I were out riding,” J.T. said. “His father was ranch foreman and he and I grew up together. We're the ones who accidentally broke that lamp.”

“This is Annabelle and Benjamin's special place.” Joanna's mouth felt dry, her throat tight. She bit down on her bottom lip. Her nerves zinged with excitement.

“Yeah, I think it probably was.” J.T. placed his hand in the small of her back. “It would have been fairly close to camp and yet far enough away to have been private. And you've got to admit, the place is pretty isolated.”

“The way she wrote about their special place in her diary, I pictured it cosy and warm and inviting.” Joanna continued visually exploring the cave, waving her flashlight back and forth in slow motion.

“In reality it's a dark hole in the side of the mountain. Hard, rugged and very unromantic.”

“But it was their special place.” Joanna glanced down at the ratty old fur rug. “The only place on earth they could truly be together, where they could be lovers.”

“Kind of sad, isn't it? But remember, things looked a lot different seventy years ago. The fur rug was undoubtedly new and clean, not rotted with age. And the kerosene lamp probably cast warm shadows on the wall.” He set his flashlight on its base, allowing the light to shine straight up and create pale shadows.

Joanna set her flashlight down beside his, increasing the muted glow and doubling the sense of cosy warmth. “From what Annabelle wrote, the happiest moments of her life were spent here, because she was with the man she loved.”