On The Texas Border (10 page)

Unable to stop herself, Abby moved to wrap her arms around him. He stiffened immediately.

“Abby.” The word came out as a low groan, but he made no effort to touch her.

She held him tightly. “You are not bad,” she murmured. “And nothing you say is going to convince me of that.”

J
ONAS WAS STRUGGLING
not to touch her, not to turn his head and capture her lips. He should have known she wouldn’t react the way he’d wanted her to. She should be walking out the door, not torturing him. Damn, she felt so good, and the fragrant scent of her hair played hell with his control.

“I…” Words failed him, as she kissed him below his ear. His head tilted toward the gesture, needing it more than he thought possible.

“The sheriff was right the other day,” she whispered against his skin. “He admires the man you’ve become. Everyone does, me included. It took a lot of courage to turn your life around.”

He was drowning in her words, going down so fast he had trouble breathing.

She ran her hands through his hair. “Jonas.”

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me.”

“Abby.”

“Kiss me and mean it. Don’t hold anything back.”

He turned his head, his lips inches from hers.

Her hand trailed down to his chest. “Kiss me from here…your heart.”

When she touched him, that organ—and others—
sprang to life. Jonas reached up and removed the clip from her hair, and it fell to her shoulders. He cupped her face and gently took her lips. She quivered, and his mouth opened over hers in a slow languorous exploration.

She moaned, and his hands traveled to her breasts. He tentatively touched them, then pulled her tight against him, breathing heavily into her hair.

“Jonas,” she cried.

“Shh.” He kissed her hair, struggling with his feelings. He wanted her, but when they made love, he didn’t want it to be out of some misguided sense of sympathy on her part. He wanted more from her, for her…for them both. He wanted… He couldn’t even say the word in his head. But he could feel his heart opening slowly, experiencing something that had to be…what?
Love?
Was this how real love felt? When you wanted to be with someone totally and completely, sharing secrets and emotions you never dared to share with anyone else? Was love thinking of her more than you thought of yourself? He shook his head, not wanting to dig any deeper into his emotions.

“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” he asked, to turn his mind to other things.

She drew back and gazed into his darkened eyes. “No.”

“Would you like to?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“If I have to ride it alone.”

A grin touched his face. “Most definitely not.”

“Then, yes, I’d love to ride with you.”

The way she said it curled his stomach into a warm
ball, and he gently disengaged his body from hers. “My Harley’s in the warehouse. Let me get my boots on.”

Abby wrapped her arms around her stomach as he disappeared into the bedroom, missing his warmth, his strength. She knew that this time he’d stopped kissing her not because he wanted to, but because he’d had to. They weren’t ready to take that big step, even though her body said otherwise. This wasn’t about physical gratification. It was about something much deeper. Something worth waiting for.

Jonas returned wearing his boots and carrying two helmets. “Come on,” he said eagerly. “Let’s hit the highway.”

She slipped into her shoes and quickly followed him out the door. In the warehouse, he removed a cover from a black-and-silver motorcycle. Abby didn’t know anything about motorcycles, but two things registered—big and expensive.

“Shouldn’t we have leather jackets or something?”

He grinned as he swung his leg over the seat and started the engine. The sound was deafening in the warehouse. He nodded to her, and she put on the helmet and climbed up behind him. He flipped on the lights and gassed the motor. Her arms tightened around his waist. They rolled out of the warehouse and soon were flying down the highway into Hope. The wind cooled her body, and the darkness of the night enveloped them…just her and Jonas.

The streets were almost empty at this hour. The thought crossed her mind that if anyone saw her with Jonas, it would be all over town by tomorrow. She
didn’t care. She hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

Twenty minutes later, they were back in the warehouse. Abby jumped off and removed her helmet. “That was wonderful. It’s like flying and feeling free and…oh, I don’t know, but it was great.”

Jonas smiled at her, got off, adjusted the kickstand and carefully covered the motorcycle.

They walked out into the warm September night. “I don’t think you’d better come up,” he said quietly.

She didn’t have to ask why. They had a big day tomorrow and they both had to have clear heads. Tomorrow. She had to concentrate on what that meant for her. It wasn’t easy when she could still feel Jonas’s lips on hers.

“What time should we leave in the morning?” she asked as she made her way to her car.

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he replied.

“Okay.” She turned to face him. “I’ll see you then.” She made herself get into her car. “Thank you, Jonas.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered.

You’re very welcome
ran through his mind as he strolled to the stairs.

Inside his apartment, he sat on the sofa and felt something beneath his hand. He picked it up. Her hair clip. He twirled it between his fingers, feeling her presence, her scent, and hoped he was doing the right thing…for Abby.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
Abby was up early. She hadn’t slept much. Thoughts of Jonas had kept her tossing and turning. When she finally dozed, her dreams were troubled ones of her father, Jonas, Mr. Brewster and the impending trip to Mexico.

She made her way to the kitchen for coffee. Her mother was already there, dressed and ready for work. She eyed Abby’s tousled hair and short nightgown.

“You were out late last night, Abigail.”

Abby poured a cup of coffee. “I was with Jonas. We were making plans to go to Mexico.”

Gail sighed. “Abby, I just don’t understand why you have to do this.”

“Mom, please, we’ve been all through this,” Abby said. “I have doubts about Mr. Brewster, too. That’s why I had him write that letter. That’s all that interests me—reading the letter and knowing the truth. I plan on printing it in the
Hope Herald
so everyone can read it. I’m also going to run it in my paper in Dallas.”

“What if it’s something you don’t want to hear?”

Abby’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

Gail didn’t answer. She put her cup in the sink and turned slowly around.

“Mom.”

“You have this image of your father as a saint, but he was human just like everyone else.”

Abby jumped to her feet. “Don’t say anything bad about Daddy.”

Gail blinked back a tear. “I’m not saying anything bad. I’m trying to make you listen. Can’t you see I can’t take any more? You have to stop this.”

The silence was suffocating, and for the first time Abby weakened in her resolve. Everyone was trying to talk her out of going…even Jonas. Why couldn’t she listen? How could she hurt her mother like this?

She walked over and hugged Gail. “I’m sorry.”

Gail held her tight. “Don’t go, Abby. Don’t go.”

Abby shook her head and stepped away from her mother. “Jonas and I are leaving this morning. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Try not to worry.” With that, she headed for her room.

“Abby.” Gail’s voice sounded as if she was close to tears.

Abby stopped and waited.

“Be careful, sweetheart. Please be very careful,” Gail murmured.

“I will,” Abby replied, and walked toward her bedroom…and the unknown future.

S
HE DRESSED QUICKLY
in a pair of old jeans and a cotton shirt. She pinned up her hair and didn’t use any makeup. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself.

Jonas arrived at precisely eight o’clock. He was wearing his usual jeans, chambray shirt, boots and hat. He looked so handsome that her heart missed a beat. She eyed his lean frame and remembered how that hard body had felt against hers.

“Are you ready?” she asked, mostly to change the direction of her thoughts.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he answered sardonically, and followed her down the walk to his truck.

She didn’t mistake his tone but she didn’t say anything until she’d climbed into the vehicle. “Don’t start,” she warned, and buckled her seat belt. “I’ve already been through this with my mom and that’s all I can handle.”

“I wasn’t going to say a word,” he said as he pulled the truck away from the curb and headed toward the international bridge. “I’ve already learned that you have a head like cement.”

She frowned at him. “That’s not much of a compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Then, as if he realized he may have hurt her feelings, he added, “But you cook very well. Thanks for supper last night.”

That didn’t quite make up for his earlier insult, but she decided to be gracious. “You’re welcome.”

They didn’t speak again until they drove into the parking area at the bridge. People were already walking across, and several vehicles were waiting to be cleared by Customs.

“Did you see Mr. Brewster this morning?” Abby asked, unbuckling the seat belt.

“Yeah, and he was a little too excited. He’s convinced we’ll find his daughter.”

“He seems to know how this will end before we even start,” she said in a low voice.

“That’s what bothers me,” Jonas said.

“Well, let’s go find Delores Alvarez and get some answers.”

“Leave your purse in the glove compartment,” he
instructed, as she started to get out. “One less thing to worry about. Put your ID and some money into your pocket.”

She did as he suggested, and he locked the bag away. They got out, and Jonas paid the man in the booth to leave his truck in the parking lot. Then they paid the tourist toll and started over the bridge. Abby stared through the chain-link wire into the muddy green Rio Grande River.

An eerie feeling came over her as they walked from Texas into Mexico. Mexican children not more than five years old had climbed the fence and hung from it with one hand, while begging with the other. Others were standing with both hands out. Abby reached into her pockets.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jonas said. “If you give them a penny, they’ll follow wanting more. It’s how their parents make a living.”

“I know. It’s so sad.”

“It’s life here, so get used to it.”

His voice was gruff, but Abby knew that he sympathized with the plight of these kids. Life here was very different. Vendors filled the crowded street. Fresh fruit was peddled on every corner and gift shops overflowed with jewelry, precious metals, leather goods, colorful pottery and embroidered cloth. Most of the customers were Americans. Tourists spilled into the tiny stores looking for bargains. The drugstores were particularly busy. Medicines cost less on this side of the border, and prescriptions weren’t needed. All one had to have was the name of the drug. Nothing here was regulated.

They had to thread their way among the crowds to get through the small town. When they were al
most at the edge of town, an old woman, with gray hair twisted into a knot, held out a denim jacket in front of Abby. “You buy, you buy?” She smiled, and Abby saw that she had no teeth. Abby studied the jacket. It had beautiful embroidery work on the front and back; delicate flowers interwoven with leaves and petals.

Abby touched the lovely jacket. “It’s very nice.”

“Sì, sì,
you buy?” The old woman smiled broadly.

“Abby, we’re not here to shop,” Jonas said sternly.

“Just look at this,” she pleaded.

“Abby.” There was a warning in his voice now, but she ignored it.

“How much?” she asked the woman.

“Twenty dollar,” she replied in her broken English.

“Abby.”

“The jacket is exquisite,” she said. “It’s all hand done, and it must have taken her days to embroider it.”

She fished a twenty out of her pocket and paid the woman. Then she noticed Jonas remove his wallet and shove something into the woman’s hand.

“Oh,
señor, gracias, gracias.
” The old woman beamed.

Jonas nodded.

“What did you give her that made her so grateful?” Abby asked, as they moved on.

“Nothing” was the short answer.

“Jonas…”

“Are we gonna shop or are we gonna find Delores Alvarez?” he said in an aggravated tone.

“Don’t be so grouchy,” she retorted. “You’re acting just like Mr. Brewster.”

He swung around to face her, and they came to a complete stop. His brown eyes were almost black. “Don’t you ever say that to me—ever.”

Abby wasn’t afraid. She was just taken aback. It wasn’t like him to be so short-tempered. But before she could respond, he apologized.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that this place always upsets me. So much poverty. So much misery.”

“It’s all right,” she assured him. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was thoughtless.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away. She quickly followed. She knew exactly why he was upset. He was afraid of his anger—afraid that he was like his father.

She ran ahead and faced him, but he wouldn’t stop. She jogged backward talking to him. “Jonas, stop so I can talk to you.”

He kept walking.

Finally she grabbed his arms with both hands, forcing him to stand still. She felt him tense. She looked into his eyes, but he was staring off into space. It didn’t stop her.

“You’re allowed to get angry,” she told him. “I said a stupid thing, but I knew you weren’t going to hit me. You would never do that. You’re nothing like your father.”

A breath came from the bottom of his chest, and he pulled away from her. “Stop analyzing me, Abby, and leave me—”

“No, I’m not leaving you alone,” she snapped as if she were reading his mind.

“Why? Am I a challenge to your journalist’s in
stincts? Is that’s why you kissed me and asked me to kiss you?” His voice was as cold as steel.

She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then, tell me how it was.”

Her eyes didn’t waver from his as she grappled for the words to tell him. She felt ashamed and foolish, but she wasn’t going to let him believe something that wasn’t true. “Kyle put a dent in my self-esteem,” she said reluctantly. “I didn’t feel attractive or desirable anymore. I didn’t want anything more to do with men, but—”

“But what?” he prompted.

She drew a hard breath. “But when I looked at you, all those negative feelings disappeared, and I wanted to be desired again…by you. That was selfish of me, when you had made it very obvious you didn’t want me.”

If only she knew.

The tightness in his chest eased and he realized they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk with people jostling them, giving them dark stares. He stopped scowling. “Why are we talking about this now…and here?”

She shrugged. “You were upset, and I wanted you to know that everyone gets angry. It’s a human reaction. It doesn’t make you a bad person as long as you don’t take that anger out on someone else. You would never do that. You’re very gentle and considerate, and you’re always in control. I’ve never seen anyone with so much self-control.”

“But I’m so afraid that someday I will lose it.” He’d spoken without thinking. Something about her made him reveal more than he wanted to. And this was definitely not the time or place to talk. He took
her arm and began walking. “We’ll discuss this another time. Right now, we need to find Delores Alvarez.”

“Jonas?”

“Later, Abby.”

He was very glad when she relented. He’d deal with the promise he’d just made…later.

T
HEY LEFT THE PAVED STREETS
of the town. Now, when a vehicle passed by, the dust from the dirt road was almost suffocating. Outside the town, most of the dwellings were lean-tos and shacks. Occasionally there was a small concrete or stucco house. Laundry hung on bushes and fences. The poverty all around was heartbreaking.

Some roads had street signs, others didn’t, but they found the road where Delores’s parents lived. The house wasn’t much more than a shack, but it had a front porch. The yard was bare but for some wild cactus. A dog growled from beneath the porch, as Jonas knocked on the door.

The door opened a crack, and an old man peered out.

“Donde esta Delores Alvarez,”
Jonas said.

“Vete, vete,”
the man said and tried to close the door, but Jonas stuck his boot in the crack.

“Es muy importante,”
Jonas added.

“Hace mucho tiempo que se fue,”
the man mumbled.

“A donde se fue?”
Jonas persisted.

“No se. No esta aqui.”

Though the man spoke quickly, Abby caught most of the conversation. Delores had left a long time ago, and he didn’t know where she was.

Jonas stared at the man an extra second, then removed his foot. The door was immediately closed. They walked away.

“Do you believe him?” Abby asked when they were out of earshot.

“I’m not sure. He could be telling the truth, or maybe someone paid him to keep quiet.”

“But why?”

“I have no idea, but we’ll try a few of the neighbors. They might know something.”

They walked over to one of the concrete houses. A woman sat in an old wooden rocker pasting strips of red, yellow, green and blue papers on a whimsical piñata that would later be sold in town. The yard was dirt, and there was an occasional flower among the cactuses.

“Tu conoce a Delores Alvarez?”

“Sì.”

Abby felt a moment of jubilation.

“Tu savis donde esta?”

“No, hace mucho tiempo que se fue.”

The woman continued to paste the strips. Abby recognized that the woman had said virtually the same thing as the old man. Delores had left a long time ago, and they didn’t know where she was. They tried several more houses and got the same response. It was very frustrating. Suddenly a man pulling a cart loaded with watermelons appeared around a curve. The load was so heavy that the man was struggling to pull it along.

Jonas stopped him.
“Cuanto?”
he asked.

Abby knew Jonas was asking how much the melons were.

The man wiped sweat from his brow with the
sleeve of his shirt. He held up one finger. “
Uno
dollar.”

Jonas handed the man a five and took a melon off the cart.

“Sì, sì, señor, gracias, gracias.”
The man was bobbing his head in delight.

“Tu conoce a Delores Alvarez?”
Jonas asked quickly.

The man’s face changed dramatically. He picked up the cart and trudged away shaking his head.

“Dammit,” Jonas cursed, and stared at the melon in his hands.

“What are you gonna do with that?” Abby asked, laughter edging her voice. She had to laugh or she was going to cry.

A young woman with two boys about ages eight and nine came by, and Jonas gave the melon to them. They smiled and carried it into town, where they’d probably sell it.

Jonas smiled wryly. “Well, at least we’re boosting the economy.”

“That’s about all we’re doing,” she remarked.

By mid-afternoon the temperature was unbearable, so they walked into town and bought Cokes, chips, peanuts and candy bars.

With the goodies in a bag, they made their way out of town again to an oak tree, and sat in the shade beneath its branches. They munched on the junk food, discussing what to do next.