A Lasting Love (19 page)

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Authors: Mary Tate Engels

Tags: #arizona romance, #desert southwest, #romance, #southwest romance

BOOK: A Lasting Love
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Loren clung to Reid, seeking a warmth he couldn't
provide. "I'm so miserable. This place is awful. Let's get out of
here."

He cradled her to his wet shirt. "I know, baby.
But we can't leave yet. We're safe under here." His dark eyes
watched the transformation of the dry washes to
treacher
ous riverbeds of rushing water. Above them he
could hear
the crashing of a wall of water in the area
they had just
traversed. Within minutes that wall
rushed past them,
clearing out everything in its path.
He could only hope
that Loren's horse was well out of
the way by now. And
that his remained tied.

Even after the rain had halted they had to
remain in
place, waiting for the heavy runoff to
subside. There was
no leaving their small limestone
refuge until the path they
must travel was safe. So
they lingered, cold and miserable.

Several bone-chilling hours later Reid stirred.
"I think
we can start to make our way back now. We may
have to
walk part of the way."

Loren was so cold, she was shaking all over.
She moved
woodenly, but followed him, knowing there
was no other
way out. They led Reid's horse as they
hiked down the
steepest part. Stumbling over the
sodden earth, Loren was
grateful for her heavy cowboy
boots. It didn't matter that
mud was caked two inches
thick all over them. Thankfully
the cacti she brushed
against didn't penetrate the heavy
leather. She hoped
fervently that this was the last time she
would ever
need those damned boots.

Finally they reached an area where the horse
could
retain his footing. Reid heaved himself into the
saddle and
pulled Loren snuggly behind him. She clung
limply to his
broad, wet back, wishing the time would
fly, and they
could be home immediately.

"Look, Loren, a rainbow over the Tucson
Mountains. Bet you don't often see one that stretches from horizon
to hori
zon."

She looked at the 180-degree arc of colors over
the distant mountains and admitted to herself that it was
amazing. However, she was in no mood to expound on the
beauties of the desert and mumbled a barely audible,
"Yeah. Beautiful."

"And that refreshing smell after a rain." Reid
heaved
a deep breath, inhaling the air satisfyingly.
"You don't get
that in the city, Loren."

"You're right. I have never gotten this in the
city."

"The creosote bush has a special fragrance when
it gets
wet," he explained.

"Strange, strange place," Loren muttered.

They rode on quietly, two wet, cold people
silhouetted
against a picturesque pink and orange
sunset. At dusk
they were received by the welcoming
hands and worried
prattle of
Lupe.

She motioned in the air, angry, yet relieved.
"I told you.
Monsoons
coming.
When that horse came back, I knew. I
just
knew something awful happened.
Ayy,
Dios mío! Gracias a Dios!"
She
crossed herself,
then continued fussing and
gesturing.

Reid interrupted her with tired directives.
"Sorry we
worried you,
Lupe.
Would you take care of Loren
while
I help Raul with the horses and
saddles?"

"Sí,
claro.
Of course. Come with me,
pobrecita."
Lupe
draped Loren's shoulders
with a colorful Mexican shawl and helped her discard the leaden
boots, then, murmuring
words of comfort, led her
inside.

While Loren stripped off her cold, wet blouse
and jeans,
Lupe
ran hot water in the tub. Gratefully Loren sank into
the warm liquid, allowing it to cover her, hoping its
warmth would seep into her chilled bones.

By the time she could hear Reid running the
shower
next door, she was snuggly tucked into bed,
sipping hot
tea laced with something strong. But Loren
was so tired, she
didn't even bother to ask
Lupe
what it was.
There was a
cup of marvelous soup, which Loren ate
quickly, then
slumped down in the big bed . . .
alone.

What a day this had been. The land had changed
so quickly—had actually turned on them. It became their
enemy, trying in every way to drive them away, or
destroy
them. What had started out to be a hot summer
day ended
up cold and harsh. What began as an
adventure for her
and Reid resulted in disaster. It
was no wonder miners lost
their lives hunting the
elusive gold. One rainstorm and
they could be all
swept away. How dangerous.

Loren drifted off to sleep with visions of
herself and
Reid riding mules into the mountains on an
ill-fated
search for gold.

 

Chapter Ten

 

It wasn't the sunlight that woke her. The room
had a
grayish tint instead of its usual sunny yellow.
One glance
at the bedside clock told Loren that she
had slept over
twelve hours. She lay very still,
enjoying her relaxed state,
the warmth that permeated
her body, the marvelous aroma coming from somewhere else in the
hacienda. Maybe that's what had awakened her, she mused as
her
stomach growled.

With muscle-aching effort, she rolled out of
bed,
wrapped herself in her blanket, and opened the
shutters to
look outside. The
Catalina
Mountains loomed
innocently beautiful
as low clouds settled around them
like plugs of cotton.
They appeared innocuous,
incapable of abrupt danger.
But Loren knew
better.

A soft knock at her door was followed by a
gentle
"
Señorita
Loren? Are you awake?"

"Yes,
Lupe.
Come on in." She turned away from the
window.

"Oh,
Señorita
Loren,
Señor
Reid has a surprise for you." And she
slipped back out the door.


Not another one.” Loren groaned inwardly
and
pulled the blanket tighter around her flimsy
nightgown.

Within another minute Reid was entering the
room,
clutching a huge tray laden with food and a tall
green
bottle. He was dressed in casual brown slacks
and a dark tan open-collared shirt, which served only to provide
a
devastating framework for his black hair and eyes.
His
skin was as tanned as the shirt, giving him the
appearance of being shirtless. Loren looked away, telling herself
that his masculine appearance didn't affect her.
As if
that were
possible.

Setting the tray on the bedside table, Reid
poured the
bubbly liquid into two glasses. He walked
over to Loren
and stood close. Unable to avert her
eyes completely,
Loren watched his chest rise and fall
behind the glasses.
He placed one delicate crystal in
her hand.
"Salud, mi
amor.
"

She raised her eyes to his dark ones and
chafed, "To my health? We're lucky to be alive. We should be
toasting the
fact that we're not at the bottom of some
dry gulch some
where in Canada del Oro."

Reid's dark eyes flickered with ire, but he
managed to
retain a cool exterior. Tilting the
sparkling glass toward
her, he acquiesced. "To our
lives, then." He made the
effort to click his glass to
hers, took a large gulp
. Wheeling sharply away, he
ordered, "Have some
breakfast, Loren. We have a full
day ahead if you want to travel to Bisbee and visit with Emmaline
Walker. It'll take
about two hours to get there." The
warm spark was gone
from his tone. Loren had doused
those embers.

She walked toward him, dragging half the
wide-striped
Mexican blanket behind her while
clutching the other end
around bare shoulders. "Yes, I
do want to see Emmaline
today. I was just . . .
checking the weather."

His answer was curt. "It won't matter today,
Loren.
We'll go in the four-wheel-drive
truck."

"It looks like rain."

"The cloud-cover will help hold the temperature down.
Rain never bothered you before."

"My life has never been threatened by it before."

If she was waiting for apologies from this arrogant
man, Loren could tell that she would have to wait all day . . . and
then some.

"That's the way it is out here, Loren. Sometimes
survival is a challenge. When my great-grandfather came out here
and settled, survival was a way of life, not only from the weather.
Indians were a major threat. That's a part of my heritage." Reid
shoved a bowl of fruit into her hands, then took his breakfast and
settled in the rugged rawhide chair near the window. His ebony eyes
raked over her, leaving a chill like the rain of the previous
day.

Loren sat on the bed and turned to her bowl of fruit
like a sulking child. Finally she offered hesitantly, "Thank you
for the champagne breakfast. I'm sorry if I've spoiled it."

"I guess it was spoiled before it began."

Loren sipped her champagne thoughtfully.
What a rotten way to start the day.
"Reid, I
can't help it if I think this desert is strange. It's alien to
everything I know, everything I'm familiar with."

He smiled grimly. "I'll admit it's vastly different
from Washington, D.C."

"In a million ways," she answered softly.

"Yes, I suppose so," he agreed with a sigh.

"Coffee, anyone?" Lupe's smiling face and warm
cheerfulness entered the overcast room along with the most aromatic
coffee Loren had ever inhaled.

"Oh, yes," she answered quickly. "Champagne for
breakfast is not my usual fare. I think I'll need some coffee
before I go anywhere today."

"Me, too." Reid rose and lumbered over to fill the
western-size coffee mugs, lacing each with thick, rich cream.

"How's your father?" Loren blurted out. With a
pang
of conscience she realized that she hadn't even
thought of the hospitalized man in over twenty-four hours. Her only
concern had been their experience on the mountain. She
hadn't even thought of him when she was home, warm
and safe in bed ... in
his
home.

Before Reid could reply,
Lupe
broke in spiritedly,
"Oh,
he's much better. He called me this morning with
instruc
tions to send the ledger in to the hospital
when Reid
comes. That means he's getting
well."

"The ledger? You mean he wants to work? Are
you
going to let him do that, Reid?" Loren
questioned.

Reid's face was tight, but there was a degree
of restrained relief evident in his eyes. "Oh, he's not in
any
shape to work, although he thinks he is. But it's
a good
sign, as
Lupe
says."

"Oh, Reid and
Lupe,
I'm so glad the senator is
better.
I know you both have been so worried about
him."

Lupe
smiled and murmured,
"Si, gracias,
Señorita
Lor
en. Enjoy
your breakfast." She left the elaborate silver
coffee
urn on the table.

"Seems funny to be relieved when Dad's sitting
up in
bed raising hell." Reid smiled. "But that's just
the way he
is."

"Reid, I feel so guilty. I didn't even think
about him last
night. Did you—"

"Go to the hospital? Yes,
mi amor.
After you were
warm and
asleep in
my
bed, I drove downtown to
check
on Dad."

"Oh, Reid." Loren's eyes were large and
sorrowful
when Reid crossed the room to her. Cupping
her face in
his dark hands, he stared deeply into her
blue eyes for a long minute. That overpowering gaze, his electric
touch,
the masculine fragrance of the man commanding
her femi
nine response, came together in a
heart-pounding cacoph
ony inside her.

In a totally reflexive action her hands reached
up to
cover his, and the energy that flowed between
them as they
touched was detectable in a powerful,
almost tangible
way. A wellspring of jubilance swelled
inside Loren as
Reid looked at her.

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