Renegade Moon (CupidKey) Read online

  “Indian,” he said, watching her. “Apache Indian.” He stated it as though he expected an extraordinary reaction, as if she might leap up in horror. Obviously, this man had experienced prejudice.

  “That explains your wonderful tan.” She smiled, ignoring his wariness. “I wish I had a bit myself. The sun out here may not be kind to me.”

  He surveyed her pale beige complexion. “Probably not. You need a good sun block and a hat. And boots,” he added, his assessment ending at her sandaled feet.

  She wiggled her toes. “I realize that. Where can I buy boots here? Must I go all the way to Albuquerque?”

  “You can buy them in Las Nubes at the Trading Post. It’s a pretty good everything general store. And they don’t have expensive prices, if that matters.”

  She laughed merrily. “I should say it does. I’m a struggling photojournalist. Where’s the Trading Post?”

  “Practically in the middle of town. You likely passed it already a time or two.”

  “Yes. Guess I missed it. Focused on making the right turns to get here.”

  “Understandable. This is a different country from Austin, Texas.”

  “I’m a native Texan, born and raised in Houston, moved to Austin, but have been to most parts of Texas. This is my first time in New Mexico, not counting a vacation to Carlsbad Caverns when my sister and I were kids.”

  “Sometimes I think that’s about all some people see of New Mexico. There’s more to us than that, though the Caverns are spectacular.”

  Destiny glanced at her watch, startled to find it almost noon. “I must go. I need to buy supplies and do some errands.” Stomach pangs reminded her that she hadn’t eaten a thing all day, but she didn’t intend to mention that for fear he’d think she was trying to wangle a lunch invitation. She placed her water glass on the table. “Thanks for the water and your hospitality.”

  “Any time.” He stood, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. “Let the dogs meet you so they won’t jump you next time. Joby, Muddog, come here.”

  The dogs scrambled up from their resting spots and trotted to their master. “This is Destiny,” Eric said. “Check her out. She’s a friend.”

  She stood quite still while the dogs sniffed her hands. Then two tails wagged. “Who is who?” she asked, tentatively patting each head in turn.

  “The black one’s Joby, the brown is Muddog.”

  “Because he’s the color of mud?” She smiled up at Eric, still scratching offered ears.

  “Well, actually because of a puppyhood stunt. He tracked in mud–and–uh . . . Do you have dogs?”

  “During my childhood.” She laughed. “And I can just imagine what he did.” The dogs resumed their prone positions as Eric walked with her to the car. Once again, she found an oven.

  “Oh, dear,” she gasped, fanning her hands at the open door.

  “Leave the windows cracked open a little,” Eric suggested. “I’ve seen car windows blow out from the heat.”

  “Oh, okay, I will. Before I go, what does Las Nubes mean?”

  “The Clouds. Especially descriptive in winter, when they seem to snag on the mountaintops.”

  “Appropriate for New Mexico. Well, thanks again. ‘Bye.” Destiny started the car, clicked on the air-conditioner full blast, and with a last wave, drove away.

  Eric George watched the blue Mustang disappear over the ridge, trailing a cloud of dust. The thick curtain of heavy summer silence dropped again and he stood for a moment, aware of the heat shimmering on the rocks. The sun’s rays pounded like a hammer on his bare head. Resting his hand briefly against his now empty shirt pocket, he wondered about the faint stirring of feelings inside himself that he’d thought were long dead and buried.

  Turning, he ambled slowly back toward the house. The dogs thumped their tails on the ground as he passed them to climb the steps. Now in the shade, he sat down on the cool stone floor of the porch and leaned back against an arch. Visions of clear, aquamarine eyes and golden waves tossing in the breeze haunted him. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the visions. He didn’t want that. No, sir. She seemed like a nice person, she was certainly lovely, but this was not the right time. Wrong time, wrong circumstances. Wrong complications.

  Best to send Cupid packing, before it’s too late. But an annoying idea niggled at the back of his mind that it was already too late.

  Wind whipped Destiny’s hair across her forehead. She brushed the wayward strands aside, intent on focusing her telescopic lens, planning a complete panorama. In the middle of her pivot, she peered at a collection of people and vehicles cluttering the horizon. Well, they were quite distant, and perhaps she could shoot around them, piecing it all together and editing them out.

  An approaching car shattered the desert silence. Destiny turned to watch a seafoam-green Mercedes brake to a halt in the rocks beside the road. Lee Duncan climbed out.

  “Hello,” he called cheerfully. “Off the beaten path, aren’t you?” He flashed an appealing smile and openly surveyed Destiny from the top of her head, over her khaki safari shirt and shorts, until his gaze lingered on her bare legs.

  Amusement flickered within her at his frank examination. Must not have gotten his eyes full at their prior meeting. “Hi, Lee. I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

  “I was on my way to the dig when I spotted your car. I thought I saw a damsel-in-distress.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “Not really. My knight’s armor is a bit rusty.” He continued to where she stood, still smiling, scanning the countryside. He squinted at the distant group of cars and people a moment before turning back to her.

  “This is savage country,” he said, his blue eyes serious. “Be careful about going off alone.”

  “Is that a warning?” How annoying. Just because she was petite, everyone, especially men, invariably thought she needed protecting and supervising.

  “Don’t be mad.” Lee touched her arm briefly. “I just meant . . .”

  Sounds of an airplane interrupted him. Destiny searched the cobalt sky until she targeted the craft winging downward. She waved in the direction of the group. “Is that where it’s landing?”

  “That’s just an old dirt airstrip.” Lee shaded his eyes to watch the descending plane.

  “Then why land there?”

  “Ah . . .” Lee stroked his moustache. “Who knows? Maybe somebody is practicing.” Abruptly he changed the subject. “If you’re finished here, come on to the dig with me.”

  “Oh, no thanks. I’ve got a few things to do first. See you there later.” Destiny crossed to her car, acting as though she was putting away her camera and preparing to leave. She waited for the Mercedes to turn around and drive away before resuming her photography. She zoomed in on the horizon, focusing on the aircraft, people, and vehicles, watching them through the telephoto lens as she clicked away. They moved between the aircraft and vehicles, loading and unloading something.

  Presently the desert sun blazing upon her skin sent her back to the Mustang. She slipped in and glanced at the map spread across the seat, smiling to herself as her finger traced a route appearing to lead to the airstrip.

  Continuing down the road, she soon came to the turnoff indicated on the map. But before she reached her destination, the airplane took off and climbed into the summer sky. It was a twin-engine, maybe cream colored, but distance made it impossible to see its identifying numbers. The plane zipped away, becoming a dot, before disappearing.

  She topped a rise in time to see a Jeep and two trucks pull away from the airstrip and head down an ill-defined road, kicking up rolls of dust.

  Cautious, she became acutely aware of her own dusty wake, halting briefly in a hollow before covering the final distance to the airstrip. The barren strip, resting in a flat area with small hills at one end, offe
red little to photograph. A bluff dropped off the other end. Oh, that would be an exciting takeoff. A range of blue-violet mountains rose in the distance.

  Destiny studied the road the vehicles had taken. The worn dirt path wound off into the hills. She compared what she saw before her to the map. No corresponding road. After snapping one photo, she put the car into gear and followed the road.

  Here I go again. The car bumped over the very rough road. Washouts had gouged gullies and it seemed that each washout had a corresponding rock, so that missing one meant hitting the other. She topped a hill and stared down at the dismaying road ahead. No way. Ridiculous.

  Her low-slung Mustang hadn’t been born off the assembly line to face such a test. She silently scolded herself as she carefully backed up. There was no place to turn around until she’d backed nearly half a mile. When she finally came to a cutoff road, she was trembling with the effort of concentration. She quickly drove off down the relatively smooth side road.

  She’d missed it completely before, when they’d likely gone this way in the first place. Soon Destiny was driving over what appeared to be an ancient wagon trail cut through tall grass, weeds, bushes, and scrub.

  She realized by now that the other vehicles had not come this way, but once again she found no place to turn around. She carefully followed her wagon tracks. At least it wasn’t gouged with boulders and gorges. The road gradually climbed up out of the flats, became rockier and left most of the scrub vegetation behind. Suddenly it butted right into another road, one that seemed better traveled. She stopped, searching both ways. Nowhere. Nothing. Not a hint of which way to go. She checked her map. Road? What road? A dozen squiggly lines traced across the map and she had no idea which one she was on. Oh, for a cool drink!

  With a sigh, Destiny played the childhood game of ‘eenie meenie’ and obediently followed the chosen direction. She’d go five miles, then turn around if she didn’t find anything.

  She topped a rise and gasped. There, framed between great craggy rock formations, were layers and layers of blue mountains, following each other into the distance. A stunted mesquite tree jutted upward in defiance of harsh nature. Camera ready, Destiny jumped from the car and snapped away.

  “Hey,” growled a cracked voice. “What’cha doin’, lady? This ain’t no movie set.”

  Destiny spun around to face a gnarled little man with scraggly gray whiskers and watery blue eyes. He squinted at her, cradling the rifle he held.

  “Strangers ain’t welcome here.”

  “Where did you come from?” Destiny asked with a gasp, startled.

  “There.” He pointed with the rifle.

  Destiny moved to see a shack a few yards away that had been concealed by rock formations.

  “That’s my place. Been livin’ here for years.” He poked the rifle barrel into Destiny’s shoulder. “Git outta here, if ya know what’s good fer ya.”

  “Will! What do you think you’re doing?”

  The grizzled little man and Destiny turned around simultaneously.

  Eric George Montoya dismounted from his big paint horse.

  “Shucks.” Will spat through tobacco-rotted teeth. “Cain’t never have no fun.” He slung the rifle over his shoulder and stomped off into the rundown shack.

  Destiny exhaled the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding as Eric walked over and grinned down at her.

  “Don’t let old Will scare you. He likes to spook people, but he’s harmless as a coyote pup.”

  “His gun isn’t harmless. Thanks for rescuing me.”

  Eric glanced around. “What are you doing way out here? The dig’s miles away.”

  Destiny pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I got lost. My map doesn’t show these roads accurately, and GPS is a joke.”

  Will popped out of his shack. “She yore woman?”

  Eric’s dark brows thundered together, his expression so threatening that Destiny expected the ground to tremble. Will darted back inside.

  “Drive me back to the ranch house,” Eric said, his sensual voice playing delicious games with Destiny’s ears. “That ought to keep Will quiet about your visit.”

  “Keep him quiet?” She gazed up into Eric’s chiseled bronze face, confused. “I don’t understand. And what about your horse?”

  Eric patted the paint’s rump and looped the reins over the saddle horn. “Home, fella.” The paint snorted, swished his tail, then galloped off into the desert. “Pinto knows the way. He’ll be at the barn waiting for us.”

  Destiny slid into the driver’s seat and unlocked the passenger door, grateful she’d taken Eric’s earlier advice to leave her windows cracked.

  Eric picked up the map and folded his long legs to get into the small car. He tossed the map into the back seat and as he withdrew his hand, his fingers brushed the ends of her hair. He gently smoothed the silky strands.

  “The sun makes your hair shine like liquid gold,” he said in a low voice, almost to himself.

  Destiny’s breath caught as his large rough hand turned, caressing the petal velvet of her cheek. Their eyes locked. She could feel the warmth of his breath and smell the sunny, male scent of him. He suddenly drew back, moving his hand as if her skin scorched him.

  Shocked, Destiny realized she didn’t want him to stop. Why did this man attract her so? And what did he feel about her? She searched his face for a clue, but impassiveness cloaked his emotions.

  “Shall we go?” A trace of abruptness tinged his voice.

  “Yes, of course,” she replied, feeling breathless.

  “Go back the opposite direction. I’ll show you where to turn off.”

  Destiny followed his instructions. “Does Will really live in that tumbled-down shack with no windows?”

  “Yeah. Will’s a refugee from West Texas. His family lived on Carrington land, squatters to be accurate, but they didn’t hurt anything. After his family passed on, old Will, well, he didn’t have very good habits and got in a scrape with some other locals there. Our folks made a family decision he should relocate here away from his trouble. Of course his shack started out in far better condition, but he doesn’t do much repairing. No money.” Eric shrugged. “And if he had the money, he wouldn’t use it for repairs.”

  “Why does he stay?”

  Again, that slight shrug. “No place else to go. Will’s a displaced soul. There are a lot of them in these remote parts of the Southwest. I’m not sure if he even realizes he moved. Not that it matters. It was many years ago.”

  “He certainly doesn’t like intruders.” Destiny stole a side glance at Eric’s carved copper profile.

  “He’s all hot air and no fight.” His voice dropped. “Feed him a little whiskey and you can convince him of anything.”

  Destiny made a silent note to purchase some bourbon, mentally cringing. If she found herself in front of Will’s rifle again, she wanted to be prepared.

  The dusty blue Mustang wove along the rough ribbon of road. Presently, Destiny recognized several landmarks that indicated their arrival at the Bar-M ranch house. “I can tell you’ve done a lot of repair and remodeling work on all the buildings, not only the house.”

  “We have done a lot of work, but it’s the kind that doesn’t show up. Sometimes it sure feels thankless.” He flashed her a smile. “But I intend to breathe life back into it.”

  “You already have. It’s lovely.”

  Eric grinned, his strangely pensive mood lifted. “Please come in for a cold drink.”

  “Thanks, but I need to get back to work.”

  “Ice cold lemonade, so nice and cool . . .”

  Destiny shook her head, resisting temptation. They were alone out here in the middle of nowhere, and Eric was extremely male, more so than any other man she’d ever met. What if he turned out not to be the
gentleman he seemed? The two dogs had come out to the car and were milling around impatiently.

  “At least come in and meet Estrella and Domingo.”

  “Who?”

  “Estrella and Domingo Garcia, my caretakers. They take care of the ranch and they take care of me.” Those sensually molded lips curved into a smile. “They were visiting their family in Alamogordo when you were here before.”

  A stout Mexican woman opened the front door of the house. “There’s Estrella now,” Eric said, waving.

  “All right,” Destiny agreed, picturing icy glasses of tangy lemonade. She allowed Eric to walk around and open her door, not sure if the dogs would remember her, but when she alighted they sniffed her hands and wagged their tails. Then they trotted back to lie down in the shade.

  She and Eric stepped up onto the porch.

  “Eric George!” Estrella planted her hands on her ample hips and launched into a tide of Spanish, waving one chubby hand toward the back of the house.

  “Hey, calm down.” Grinning, Eric placed his hands on her shoulders. “Pinto knows his way home. There was nothing wrong. I just wanted to ride with Destiny.”

  “Ah.” Her anger instantly dissipated. “Destiny Winston, the pretty photographer I’ve been hearing about. You must come in before you melt.” She took Destiny’s small hand in her own plump one and led her and Eric inside into the welcome coolness of the stone and adobe house. The aroma of chili spiced the air. “Did Eric George bring you home for lunch?”

  “No,” Destiny said, taking an instant liking to Estrella. “Just lemonade.”

  “Lemonade?” Estrella leveled a motherly glare at Eric.

  He chuckled. “Try to change her mind, Estrella. Even busy photojournalists have to eat.”

  “He’s right,” Estrella stated firmly, squeezing Destiny’s hand. “Please stay for a bowl of chili. My husband, Domingo, is putting away Pinto. He and Eric together can’t make a dent in my big bubbling pot.”