Anacacho, An Allie Armington Mystery (3 page)

She struggles with the combination lock and the door
swings open. “Voilà. Paul’s crown jewels.”

She isn’t exaggerating. Most of the saddles boast
pommels and stirrups adorned with heavily etched silver encrusted
with semi-precious stones. The headstalls of the matching bridles
are so ornate, it’s amazing a horse could raise its neck.

I make appropriate noises about the gaudy wares and
follow my hostess out into the evening air.

We return to the house for a refill, then Reena
leads me to the second floor and proudly shows off six guest rooms
identically outfitted with handmade furniture from Nuevo Laredo.
When we get to my room, which is next to the master suite, she
takes a minute to show me the secret door leading from my closet
into hers, explaining my room used to be Paul’s as a child and the
door gave his mother easy access to him in case of illness.

“
Now for the master suite.” She
pulls me through the double doors and down a wide hall to view the
king-size bed, which dominates the left side of the room. To the
right, a comfortable sitting area features an entertainment center
and a wet bar. Reena has good taste and she’s used it
well.

A phone rings in the distance. In minutes Adelena,
the cook, appears at the door to announce the Señor will not be
home in time for dinner.

“
Thank you, Adelena. Since there’s
just the two of us, we’ll dine in the tower.” Reena turns to me.
“You’ll need a warm-up suit. It’s quite chilly after the sun goes
down, but the view is spectacular.”

I nod, waiting for further instructions from my
hostess, but all I get is a smirk. “Too bad. Paul must have
forgotten you were coming.”

I feel my jaw go south. What was the point of that
statement? Is she trying to start a fight? I immediately regret my
decision to come and try to remember what Reena said to pique my
curiosity.

It’s plain she’s drinking much too much. Reena
hardly drank at Texas. Said it muddied her mind—strange how
memories stick.

And what’s with the pictures? Why did she carry on
like that when they were obviously taken down long before
today?

Reena gives me a nudge in the direction of my room.
“Hurry up and change or you’ll miss the sunset.”

By the time I reach the tower, I’m glad for the
protective cover of my warm-up suit. The still January air is
briskly crisp, but a piñon-wood fire crackles in a nearby
fireplace.

As the sun’s last rays pink the horizon, Reena
motions me to join her at an imposing oak table bearing a pair of
tall, ornate candelabra.

She chooses the chair facing the Anacacho Mountains,
then points me to the seat to her left so I can share the full
moon’s spectacular debut.

The moment we are seated, Miguel appears to tend a
dumbwaiter built into one of the side-walls just as two steaming
bowls of fragrant tortilla soup rise from the kitchen below.

The soup is followed by thick, juicy steaks and
crispy French fries. The meal ends with a piñon flan topped by a
smoky, chocolate-tinged, caramel sauce. All the while, Miguel keeps
Reena’s glass topped with red wine, while I allow myself the
customary two.

By dessert we’ve exhausted all the usual chitchat
and finish our meal in silence until Miguel serves coffee.

Wine glass empty, Reena motions him to open a second
bottle, then says, “I’m sure you talk to Susie often.”

The truth is, Susie and I have remained close since
graduation and talk once or twice a month. I’m about to say so when
a red flag pops up. I lie. “We mostly talk on holidays. Susie’s
really busy with the kids. The baby’s just beginning to crawl, but
I guess you know more about that than I do.”

“
Not really. I haven’t seen Susie
in over a year.”

It’s all I can do not to snort since Susie has
recounted several incidences when Reena openly snubbed her.

“
It makes me so mad,” Reena
whines. “Susie could have done so much better. I can’t imagine why
she picked that broken-down football hack for a
husband.”

Del, anything but a hack, was about to sign on as
quarterback for one of the NFL teams when Reena dumped him for
Paul. Unable to concentrate on little else but his loss, Del was
sacked attempting his first pass in the opening game of the season.
Badly torn ligaments in his right knee sidelined him for good,
throwing him into an even deeper despair.

I don’t know what Del might have done if it weren’t
for Susie. She literally saved him. For the rest of the school
year, she cooked his meals, washed his clothes, and with a little
help from me, was able to coax him through finals.

After Susie and Del married, the two went home to
work the Dardens’ hardscrabble ranch. With some financial aid from
Susie’s family, they managed to eke out a bare existence until
their second son was born. It was then Paul gave Del the foreman’s
job on the Anacacho.

I still hold Reena personally responsible for the
injuries that plague Del in the cold of winter, and it’s hard to
keep the venom out of my voice. “Delman Darden would probably be
enjoying a profitable pro football career if you hadn’t dumped
him.”

Reena’s wine glass stops in midair as shock fills
her face. “Are you saying I caused his injuries?”

“
Well, he certainly wasn’t
concentrating on his game the day he was sacked.”

Reena bristles. “Oh, puleese, give me a break. Does
Del really blame me for that?”

I hesitate for only a second before my own little
evil demon kicks in. “He may not, but Susie and I sure suffered
through that last semester. I swear he was almost suicidal.”

Reena empties her glass and slams it to the table,
her mouth twisting into a tormented grin. “Wellll now, let’s have a
pity party, okay? Pooor Del, pooor Susie, pooor Allie. What about
me? What about my pain?”

Our eyes lock and freeze as silence screams between
us. What on earth do I say next? How can I stop this before it gets
out of hand? Then comes reason. Play it cool. Reena’s drunk. She
won’t remember a thing.

I yawn and stretch. “Great food and good wine, but
they’ve about done me in.”

Reena studies me for a moment, then, grabbing the
table to steady herself, she rises. “Yeah. It’s beddy-bye time for
me too.” When I take her arm, she tries to wrench free. “I can make
it just fine.”

I smile. “Oh, I know you will, but I’m going to need
some help getting down those stairs. How about lending me a
hand?”

“
No problem,” she mumbles. “I know
the way.”

With a few bobbles here and there we make it to the
second floor, then down the hall to my room. Reena gives me an
awkward hug and disappears through the double doors to the master
suite.

I rummage through my suitcase for my flannel
nightshirt and slip it over my head. The room is still heavy with
Reena’s scent and, anxious for a breath of fresh air, I throw open
the casement to a perfect night. The moon is high in the sky, a
chalk white that delineates the dips and hollows of the mountain
range.

After several deep breaths, I slide beneath the
welcome warmth of my down comforter. My efforts to make some sense
of the evening are dulled by the wine and I tumble into
darkness.

Voices drag me out of my dreams. Once I’m awake, I
realize the thick walls and the closets between the two rooms have
muted an escalating argument.

“
Why the hell did you bring her
here? Why now?”

I recognize Paul’s voice, stumble to the closet, and
press my ear to the secret door.

“
Why not?” Reena screams. “Admit
it. You’ve always been in love with her.”

“
Shut up.” Paul’s low growl
evidences his anger. “You’re up to something, damn you. What is
it?”

“
I’m not up to anything,” Reena
shouts back. “Pardon me for mentioning it, but aren’t you the one
who’s up? I know all about your dirty little secret.”

“
I don’t give a good goddamn what
you know, you’re nothing but a high-class slut.”

“
Call me what you want, but you’re
in way over your head, Paul. You can’t afford to keep going on like
this.”

I hear a dull thwack, then a moan followed by
hurried footsteps. Reena shrieks, “Ohhh, my cheek. It’s going to be
black-and-blue by tomorrow. You bastard. You can go straight to
hell.”

To hear Paul’s voice after so long brings back
memories of the brief but intense immediacy we experienced and the
question I was never able to answer. If the love we shared was so
rare, how, in only a few short weeks, could Reena destroy it?

Back beneath my comforter, I change positions at
least a hundred times before I hear a faint noise and slowly crack
one lid to see Paul standing above me.

The bed moves as he kneels beside it and I hear him
murmur, “You’re all I want. All I’ve ever wanted.”

His face is so close I smell whiskey on his breath
as he asks, “How could I let it happen to us?”

I roll away, clutching the comforter to me in a
pathetic attempt to escape, but Paul pulls me back and his mouth
covers mine.

He takes his time before moving into my bed. First,
soft caresses, followed by even softer kisses. Nothing seems
urgent. It’s as if we have a lifetime to reconnect.

The sound of the door to the master suite opening
and closing awakens me to find the sun well above the
Anacachos.

Remembering the feel of Paul’s body surrounding
mine, I turn to caress the place he shared beside me and gasp. The
pillowcase remains crisply smooth. I draw the comforter away from
his side of the bed to see the unwrinkled sheet still tightly
tucked.

IT’S PAST EIGHT BY THE TIME I SHOWER and don jeans,
a long-sleeve red cotton shirt, and my boots. I descend to the
dining room, smell the fresh-brewed coffee, and head toward the
sideboard where a large carafe sits among a cluster of mugs.

At the sound of footsteps, I turn to see Paul
walking toward me. He’s still the handsome Paul of my dreams, but
grown gaunt, his face lined with time. That doesn’t matter. The
love I see jump-starts my heart.

He gives me his fabulous grin as he moves beside me
to pour a mug for himself. His arm barely brushes mine and I feel
the hairs rise all over my body. I want Paul so badly, I think I
might leap right out of my skin.

Paul must feel me startle. His voice is so low, I
almost miss the “Welcome home.”

After he settles next to me at the end of the table,
he touches my hand. “You haven’t changed. I was afraid you
might.”

Adelena appears with a bowl containing an assortment
of fresh fruit, giving me time to compose myself. When she retreats
I say, “But I have changed, Paul. In every way.”

“
Of course you have. And, sadly,
so have I.”

Time collapses as a tingle skitters through me just
as it did when we first met.

The UT Women’s Golf Team was finishing its most
successful season in years. We would be participating in the
prestigious Collegiate Invitational in Hawaii that summer if I
could win the last match against SMU.

I traded leads with my opponent until the eighteenth
hole, where I faced a twenty-foot downhill for a birdie and a win.
I stared hard at the dimpled white orb, took a deep breath, then
shut my eyes.

The roar of the crowd told me I was home free. I
looked up to see a tall, well-built, redhead with a craggy face
staring back. That was my first glimpse of Paul Carpenter.

Later that evening the Phi Gams hosted a party in
the team’s honor, and there he was again. This time he came
straight for me, hand extended. “That was some putt.
Congratulations.” He searched my face and grinned. “Hey, we’re
almost twins. You have gray eyes, too.”

When he grasped my hand, hot ice cascaded down my
spine. I put my free hand over his. I didn’t want to let him
go.

We didn’t say much that evening. I remember sharing
a beer with him as we walked into the shadows of the large backyard
to the limestone wall at the end of the property.

It was May. The lemon-scent of magnolia filled the
air. In the distance there was laughter and someone was playing
“Streets of Laredo” on a guitar.

Paul leaned against the wall and drew me to him as
his lips covered mine. I don’t remember how long we stood there,
but from that moment on, we were inseparable.

I jerk back to reality as Adelena splashes more
coffee in my mug. The memory of that night is still etched in my
mind. I can’t help but wonder what might have happened if Reena
hadn’t come between us. Would we have married? If we had, our child
would be in the second grade.

Paul puts his hand on mine. “Penny for your
thoughts.”

I pull myself out of my sad reverie and give him a
sparkling smile. “Sorry, they’re much too expensive for a mere
penny.”

We chat through breakfast, the conversation
centering on the mundane, but the silent messages traded are
anything but.

Once the dishes are cleared, Paul whispers, “Come
riding with me this morning.”

When I don’t answer he says, “Reena takes pills so
she can sleep.

I guess her days are too long if she doesn’t. We
won’t be missed.” Being alone with Paul after all this time has
been a long-time dream of mine, but a niggle in the corner of my
mind gives me pause. “Shouldn’t we wait for Reena?”

“
Reena doesn’t ride. Besides, she
won’t be up until she can start the day with a Bloody Mary and
we’ll be back long before then.” He rises and stands so close I can
feel the heat from his body. His voice is soft. “How about
it?”

Paul chooses a sturdy Morgan mare for me, saying,
“Her name is Sugar and she lives up to it.”