California Girl (28 page)

She drank steaming chicory coffee in front of an ancient
fireplace in a kitchen that had come straight out of the early 1900’s. A tin
sink with a pump faucet, an old-fashioned icebox, and a woodstove were the
major appliances. Kaya moved efficiently from one to the other while Sam spoke
with shadowy figures out the back door, and Lucia played with Purple in front
of the fire.

Hot
dishes of food appeared on the old pine table in front of them. Alys followed
Elliot’s example and dug into them. They weren’t sweet or chocolate, but they
were delicious. Lucia climbed up on a bench and ladled the food into her mouth
in between excited chatter about kittens and snow and her
tía
. Alys thought the child might have also mentioned Mame a
time or two, but she was operating on sensory overload and couldn’t be certain.

Once Lucia had cleaned her plate, Kaya bundled her off to
another room. Purple slept on a rag rug in front of the fire, and Alys wished
she could join the kitten. None of them had slept much last night.

Instead, she toyed with the camera from Lucia’s backpack.
Elliot had retrieved the pack so Lucia had her nightshirt and fresh clothes.
The camera still had film in it, and Alys snapped a picture of Purple.

Ice coated the windows, and they could still hear the ping
of sleet on the roof. She didn’t want to go out again. She wanted to sit here
beside Elliot, sipping hot coffee, until it was time for them to go to bed.
Together.

So much for her independence. If she desperately needed a
warm body to snuggle up to every time the going got rough, she was in trouble.

Sam stomped his boots free of ice on the back porch, then
entered and hung his heavy woolen coat over a coat tree. Kaya handed him a mug
of coffee as he entered.

“The road is not passable,” he announced, settling on the
bench where Lucia had sat. “No one can find you now.”

“But they can once the weather clears,” Elliot added,
bringing the problem out in the open now that Lucia wasn’t around.

Sam nodded. “Our granddaughter was hit and killed by a car
recently, and her husband took his own life shortly after. They do not tell an
old man everything, but I hear and I listen. Lucia’s paternal grandfather claimed
her, and he has the wealth and power to keep her, but Lucia does not belong
with a man who bears hatred in his heart. The younger ones have spoken of
rescuing her, but they have families of their own to worry about. We thank you
for saving Lucia from such a man.”

“We didn’t save her,” Alys said, thinking it time all the
facts were laid on the table. “Elliot’s aunt left her with us with a note
saying we were to take her to her family on a reservation in Albuquerque. But
bad things kept happening, and we’re kind of off the route now.”

Sam waited, but Elliot didn’t attempt to explain his aunt.
Alys watched him worriedly, terrified he’d strained his health today, but he
didn’t appear fatigued, just thoughtful.

“The reservation is the safest place for her until the
courts rule,” Sam agreed. “I have one daughter who chose to live on the
reservation after her husband left her, but her children and her sisters and
brothers are scattered throughout Texas and New Mexico. My grandchildren, like
Lucia’s mother, have made lives for themselves all about here. We are not a
small family. We can protect our own.”

So it wasn’t entirely a miracle that they had found a
relative of Lucia’s, Alys thought sleepily, leaning against Elliot’s shoulder.
Lucia could have pointed out the residence of any number of relatives anywhere
along the route. She had just waited for the right moment and the right one.

“On the reservation, the law is ours,” Sam continued. “If
Lucia’s grandfather calls on the authorities for her return, it is best that
she is with my daughter where our laws prevail.”

“I don’t know how we can take her there if her grandfather
is looking for us,” Elliot admitted. “Our car is too distinctive. I can’t
imagine anyone’s grandfather driving a semi, but if Lucia’s is, he can find us
too easily.”

“Her grandfather owns the trucks. I don’t think he drives
them anymore.” Sam sipped his coffee and thought about that. “His drivers, or
even Salvador, won’t know of our existence. You are safe here for now.”

“But we cannot stay here,” Elliot answered. “We must find my
aunt and see that she is safe.”

“From what Lucia tells me, it sounds as if your aunt is with
one of my grandchildren,” Sam said dryly. “Lucia’s mother asked her sister to
be Lucia’s guardian. Dulce is very attached to the child. Lucia spoke of her
aunt taking her. Two and two usually makes four. Is it possible that they left
Lucia with you, thinking to draw Salvador’s thugs away from her like a mother
quail protects her young?”

“Very possible,” Elliot said grimly. “If so, their ploy
failed. Someone must have followed them and seen them leave Lucia with us.”

“Salvador Mendoza owns a very large trucking company. His
drivers travel up and down the highway every day.” Sam tapped his fingers
against the table in thought. “I am astounded that he even cares enough to look
for Lucia.”

Kaya refilled their mugs and finally spoke in loud, heavily
accented English. “He does it from spite, because his only son died hating him.
He eases his pride by saying we destroyed his son’s life, and that we tore up
the will his son made appointing him guardian.”

Alys had wondered at the woman’s silence since Sam seemed so
talkative, but she hadn’t liked to question another culture. Now, she suspected
that English was not only Kaya’s second language, but that she was hard of
hearing. Her mother had refused to buy a hearing aid and had often spoken
abruptly and loudly like this.

“It does no good to speculate,” Alys said, projecting her
voice slightly and receiving a nod of affirmation in reply. “First, we must
think of Lucia and figure out how to get her to safety.”

“Any of her relatives would be suspect,” Elliot pointed out.

“My children all have young families,” Sam said slowly,
appearing reluctant to involve them. “But this is a family matter. I could send
one of my men to my grandson—”

“I don’t have children,” Elliot interrupted. “If you think
it is best for Lucia to continue on, it’s better if she hides with strangers.”

Sam nodded his head thoughtfully. “That is generous of you.
I do not know how long it would take to drive Lucia to her uncle in this
weather. He lives far off the road, back toward the interstate. It would be
faster if you could continue on this route, but you will be a target if you
continue driving your . . . car,” he said, obviously hesitating
over describing the pink elephant sitting in his yard. “We must hide it in the
barn for now. If we decide to do this, you can take my truck. It is not as
pretty, but it is serviceable and unremarkable. It will get you there safely.”

Alys covered Elliot’s hand with hers and squeezed. “It’s
less than a day’s drive. We have to go in that direction to find Mame.”

She thought Elliot far more capable of looking after the
child than an old man with slow reflexes, or a younger man who couldn’t handle
a car as well.

Elliot nodded in agreement. “I’m always inclined to finish
what I set out to do.”

“Excellent.” Sam rose from the table and began giving orders
as if he were a general in the field. “You will stay with us tonight. The
weather is not fit for man or beast. We have an empty cabin you can use. If
anyone is looking for you, they’ll be searching the towns and not find you
here.” Sam headed for the back door to throw out more orders.

“It’s not Santa Fe,” Elliot whispered against Alys’s ear,
looking for her approval.

“It’s
better. Motels all look alike. This is the
real
New
Mexico.” Happily, Alys held Elliot’s hand while they followed Sam out of the
house to the one-room cabin near the stock barn.

She assumed it must have been meant to house ranch hands,
but it echoed of emptiness when they entered. A quilt-covered featherbed
occupied the biggest part of the space. Firewood was stacked on the front
porch, ready for the woodstove that filled a corner of the room. A sturdy
wooden table bearing a stack of paperbacks, two chairs, an oil lamp, and an old
wardrobe completed the interior. Shades of the Old West.

No phone, no electricity, no television. No distraction.
Just each other. She was in really deep trouble now.

Without saying a word, Elliot followed the older man out to
collect their belongings from Beulah, leaving Alys to contemplate the gray day
out the window.

Odd, how one little choice led to another and another and
before she knew it, she was traveling down a path she’d never considered.

She would be back on track once they reached Albuquerque.
One more day couldn’t hurt. Or one more night.

“Want to go horseback riding?” Elliot asked, returning to
the cabin wearing his snow-covered Stetson and carrying bags under both arms.

The sight of Alys curled up on the bed with the oil lamp on
the table beside her and reading a paperback as if she’d lived in these
primitive conditions all her life shook him into saying the first inane thing
that had come to mind. He was being sarcastic, but it didn’t seem to faze her.

She smiled as she took in the assorted gear he carried in.
“No, thank you. I’m in hibernation mode right now. I’m thinking of not emerging
from my cave until the sun comes out.”

“I left Purple’s cage in the car. I figure here’s as good a
place as any to leave her, if you like.” He dropped one of her suitcases near
the wardrobe and his beside it, but he watched Alys in the process.

Her smile disappeared, and her face closed up. “Okay.” She buried
her nose in the old book.

She didn’t want to leave the cat anymore than she wanted to
leave Lucia, but she was stubbornly sticking to her decision to go it alone,
Elliot realized. Under the circumstances, he supposed that was the right
choice. He just didn’t like it.

“I left the orchid with Sam. I thought it might be warmer in
the kitchen. Think we should leave the plant here, too?” Thanks to Mame, they
were carrying around everything but the kitchen sink. They’d be able to set up
housekeeping in the Caddy at this rate.

She shrugged and pretended to continue reading. “I can keep it,
if they don’t want it. Plants aren’t much trouble.”

“Liar.” He dropped down on the end of the bed and began
removing his boots. “You want the plant and the cat and the kid, and they’re
all three a lot of trouble.”

He had no right to be so certain of someone he’d known less
than a week, but Alys was as transparent as glass. Everything she thought and
felt showed up in her expressive features or in her actions. The lady had no
hidden agendas that he could find—except when she was fooling herself.

The problem here was him.

She
kicked her socked foot at his hip, but with no real force. “You’re a lot of
trouble,” she said, echoing his thought. “And I’m not abandoning
you
.”

“That’s because I have other uses.” Boots off, Elliot
kneeled on the sagging mattress, propping his arms on either side of her head.
“Like this.” He leaned over and caught her luscious bottom lip between his
teeth and nibbled. She might have won the battle last night by default, but he
never gave up without trying.

To his joy, Alys grabbed his arms, dug in her fingers, and
responded fervently, with a desperate need to match his own. Then equally
fervently, she shoved him away and scanned his face. “Shouldn’t you be resting?
That’s what they told Mame to do. We’ve had a really bad day.”

“And you’re not making it better.” Elliot rolled over on his
back and glared at the cabin ceiling. A tattered spider web hung across the far
corner near the woodstove chimney.

She was right and he was wrong and he wanted to howl at the
unfairness of it. He felt better than he had in years. It was as if a heavy
weight had been lifted from his chest. He wanted to take advantage of every
minute with Alys that he was granted. He hungered for her in so many ways that
he thought he was more likely to die of denial than heart failure.

But he couldn’t hurt her by using her like that. She had
warned him that she didn’t want attachments. He could see how easily she formed
them. Had he been a perfect specimen of health, he would have scoffed at her
fears and proceeded to show her that she needed him as much as he needed her.
But he wasn’t. He was the worst possible risk for a woman who had wasted too
much of her life nursing an invalid. He gagged at the idea of her standing
anxiously over him while he measured his life in doctor’s visits, surgeries,
and pills.

“All right, then,” he said crossly. “What do you want to do?
Play charades?”

He couldn’t look at her but waited to hear her pronouncement
of how they would go on. Resentfully, he rubbed at the fire starting to simmer
in his midsection.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he stressed out too much.

She lay still beside him, but after a moment, Elliot thought
he heard her stifling a giggle. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared
at the ceiling some more. Alys rolled on her side and tickled under his arm.

He resisted twitching but couldn’t resist lowering his gaze
to her face. “What?” he demanded. “I’m trying to rest here.”

“No, you’re not. You’re shooting holes through the ceiling.
The roof is likely to fall on our head any minute now.”

He captured her tickling fingers with his arm. She spread
her other hand across his chest and rubbed where he’d been rubbing. Her caress
was more soothing. “I don’t know how to play charades,” he told her.

“You don’t know how to play. Or rest. Close your eyes.”

He shut his eyes, but his body was as tight as a bowstring.
If she thought rubbing his chest would relax him, she came from a different
planet than his.