Renegade Moon (CupidKey) (10 page)

Oh, no! She simply couldn’t stand it. She covered her face with her hands, grief-stricken at the idea of Eric participating in illegal activities. Then she straightened and gave herself a mental scolding for jumping to conclusions with no proof at all.

Gnashing her teeth and moaning wouldn’t solve a thing. She knew something was going on, and being concealed for whatever reasons. Even though Eric knew about it, might be involved in it, she couldn’t let that stop her from getting the whole story. She had to know. She had to know not just for the story, but for herself.

After supper, Destiny and Eric wandered out onto the porch. Shortly, Estrella and Domingo joined them, Estrella with some mending and Domingo with a piece of wood he proceeded to carve.

“Excuse me a minute,” Eric said, and went inside the house.

Destiny sat quietly on the steps with her back against an arch and scratched the dogs’ ears. In a few minutes Eric returned, sat down beside her, and smiled, turning her heart over. She felt positive he’d done something to the card in her camera. She’d know for sure when she checked it if he’d tampered with it, because she’d rigged a trip hair. She had also put trip hairs on her makeup and computer cases. Hating this cloak-and-dagger stuff, especially since it seemed like acting against Eric, she still had to do it.

Within the next couple of days she must get out and see about sending those photos. And she wanted to call her editor. Certainly not from here on the landline. Nor would her cell phone pick up a signal. No, she needed to get to town. This could be the story that would make her career. But would it be worth it?

The sun had not yet gone behind the mountains when Martin’s brown and tan Suburban topped the rise, pulling a long stock trailer the same color.

“It’s MarTEEN!” cried Estrella.

Destiny glanced up at Eric. A wave of conflicting emotions chased across his face. Then he flashed the old familiar grin and they all walked out to greet Martin as Eric called off the dogs.

Martin stopped without getting out and rolled down the window. “Hey, little brother.” His eyes flashed to Destiny. “Well, hello there. I didn’t expect to find you here.”

“Hello, Martin. I didn’t expect to be here.” She smiled.

A German Shepherd rode in the back seat of the Suburban and had spotted Joby and Muddog, who had in turn spied the newcomer. They set up a chorus of barks and their respective owners shouted for silence.

“You brought Baron?” Eric asked Martin.

Martin jerked a thumb. “In the trailer. I brought Diablo, too. Rowdy, I said shut-up!” he yelled as a warning to the Shepherd in back who’d decided a few more barks were in order.

“Drive around to the corral,” Eric said. “We’ll meet you back there.”

They moved in a group in the dusty wake of the trailer, flanked by Joby and Muddog, still sporting ridges of fur on their backs.

Martin got out, opened the back door, and the Shepherd shot out to growl and snarl with the other two dogs.

“They go through this every time they get together,” Martin said. “Sort of like Eric and me.” He grinned at his brother and received an arched eyebrow in reply.

“Where’s the beef?” Eric asked.

Martin had an arm around Estrella’s shoulders. “Step this way.” He gave her a big smack on the cheek and released her. The brothers opened up one side of the trailer, revealing the great big backside of a great big bull, staring Destiny right in the face. She moved aside while the men unloaded the bull.

“This is Baron,” Martin said, almost like an introduction. “He’s a Beefmaster, a
prize
Beefmaster, may I add. Destiny, don’t let this old Indian fool you. He’s nothing but a gentleman rancher, just tinkering with expensive animals . . .”

“Hey,
hermano
, whose expensive animal is this, anyway?” Eric winked at Destiny. “His, that’s whose.” His mood light, the strange conflict that had flitted across his face upon Martin’s arrival had disappeared.

Next, they unloaded a gorgeous black stallion from the trailer. “And this is my horse, Diablo,” Martin announced as the men led the animals to the barn. Destiny followed, but Estrella bustled to the kitchen to fix something wonderful. There were people to be fed.

Warm barn scent enveloped Destiny as she went inside. Domingo lit lanterns. Diablo and Baron were put into stalls and Domingo went to tend to them. Pinto nickered from his stall and Diablo answered.

Suddenly, something fuzzy brushed against Destiny’s leg and with a little cry, she jumped away. Then she saw the fluffy yellow cat and stooped to coo at it. The cat came to her summons and she stroked it.

“That’s Goldie,” Martin said, going down on one knee beside her. “One of the barn cats. Tiger should be around . . . there he is. Kitty, kitty . . . come here, Tiger.”

However, Tiger, a very aptly named orange striped animal, remained apart and watched them pet Goldie. Goldie padded back and forth ecstatically under Destiny’s hand, her huge bush of a tail straight in the air.

“Tiger is shy,” Martin said. “He won’t go to anybody.”

“Come here, Tiger,” Eric said then. “Come here, boy.” The cat pattered over and allowed himself to be petted. “He’ll come to me,” Eric added, gloating at Martin.

Destiny decided that Martin was right. He and Eric did indeed behave like the dogs. Men! In mortal combat over who could pet the cat. Leaving Domingo to settle the animals, Destiny walked out of the barn behind the two brothers. They really didn’t look alike. Eric’s dark, Native American genes were apparent in his bronze coloring, black hair and high cheekbones. He was wide shouldered and big-armed with a deep chest. Martin, though nicely built, was more slender. He wasn’t as tall as Eric, who at six-three, stood an even foot taller than Destiny.

“Back up over here, Martin, and let’s cut that trailer loose,” Eric said.

Destiny climbed to the top of the corral fence to stay out of the way. When the men got the trailer situated, Eric walked directly over to her and lifted her off the fence, allowing a hand to linger a moment on her waist before they started for the house. Martin watched them. To Destiny, that seemed the whole point of the action. She felt an annoyed pleasure. So many of her feelings were getting crossed up. Eric messed with her mind.

Estrella had made a fresh jug of lemonade and had placed cookies on a plate. They filled glasses, Martin picked up the plate of cookies and they adjourned to the living room.

Two couches facing each other across the coffee table, a love seat at one end and a recliner and rocker at the opposite end provided ample sitting room. Eric lit a propane lantern above the coffee table as Estrella brought out snapshots of their kids and grandkids taken on their trip to Alamogordo to show Martin. The kerosene lamps that Eric had lit the night before didn’t offer the light the propane lantern did, but they didn’t give off the heat that the lantern did, either.

Eric and Destiny sat together on one couch, while Martin sat between Estrella and Domingo on the other, murmuring in Spanish, looking at the pictures.

“What is that word—neenya—that Estrella calls me?” Destiny asked in a low voice.

“It means ‘baby girl.’ A term of affection. She likes you.”

“She’s darling. I can’t help but love her. And I intend to do a photo session with Domingo before I leave here. I can sell a series of pictures of him in a heartbeat.”

“Would you like to see,
niña
?” Estrella offered, holding out some photos. “Our children and grandchildren.”

“Oh, of course.” Taking the photos, she began to examine them. Eric’s arm dropped around the back of the couch behind her as he surveyed the pictures, offering names and relationships of the various people shown.

“Lovely family,” Destiny said, returning the pictures.

Eric leaned forward to pick up his glass, pressing his arm against Destiny’s shoulder. Half of her wanted to move away from his showy possessiveness and half wanted to sit in his lap. In spite of the pleasant mood, she sensed undercurrents between the brothers. Maybe during Martin’s visit, she’d learn a few things. He seemed more open than Eric. Eric could be so secretive. But then, maybe he had reasons to be. She immediately shook that thought away. No, she needed proof. But now, she was glad she hadn’t the chance to mention her suspicions. She needed to see what developed before confiding in anyone. Even Eric.

The trip hair on her camera had been broken. She’d pulled up the photos, and they’d obviously been tampered with, but the hairs on both her computer and makeup cases were still intact.

Well, she’d expected it, knew he would attempt to ruin or delete the photos. He’d said as much to Glen King. So why this horrible empty feeling in the pit of her stomach?

“You’re going to be here awhile, aren’t you?” Eric said to Martin over breakfast the next morning.

“I was planning on it.”

“Then we’ll set you up a bed in the back bedroom. You don’t want to spend many nights on that couch.”

“Suits me. Last night was enough.”

“Perhaps I should get a motel room so Martin can have my room,” Destiny offered.

Both brothers and Estrella sent up a chorus of protests. Destiny gave in gracefully. She really didn’t want to leave. She had the feeling that she’d find her answers here.

Destiny accompanied the brothers to a storage shed to get the bed, an antique iron bedstead in good condition.

“So that’s where our grandmother’s bedstead is,” Martin commented as he and Eric carried the pieces outside.

Eric plopped his part down and glared at Martin. “Do you want to take it home with you?”

Martin held out his hands. “Hey, I just didn’t know where it was, okay?”

“She was
your
grandmother. If you want it, take it.”

“No! Holy cow, Eric. I just didn’t know where it was. I’m glad it’s here. Now let’s get it inside so I can sleep on it.” He grabbed his part and started for the house.

Eric watched his retreating back a moment before turning to Destiny. Their gazes held for an endless heartbeat. Finally the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile and he picked up the rest of the bed parts. “Hey, Shorty, bring the slats, will you?”

“Shorty?” She gathered up the slats. “Shorty indeed! Thanks a lot.” She heard his chuckle as he walked to the house and her mouth curved into a smile. No, Martin wasn’t entirely correct. They weren’t like the dogs. The dogs had made friends. The brothers still seemed at odds.

They set up the bed in the unfinished bedroom in the west wing, brought in the springs and mattress, and left Estrella cleaning it and making it up.

“Let’s drive out to the dig in my truck,” Eric suggested.

Destiny climbed into the seat between him and Martin, ready for her first ride in Eric’s pickup, a standard rather than extended cab, with the one bench seat.

“You dogs want to go?” Eric called, and three streaks leaped into the back.

Not a timid driver, Eric rumbled over those rocky roads,
zip-zip
, and Destiny bounced closer to him, barely touching him. He steered right handed with his left arm draped on the open window frame. She couldn’t help but observe him from the corner of her eye. He was like a play unfolding, a movie all in himself just for her. She loved the way he moved, the way his muscles pulled against his clothes. She silently admired his large, strong hands with their well-shaped nails that he kept cut short. She glanced at Martin’s. His hands were as long and slender as those of a concert pianist. He had more hair on his arms than Eric.

Spotting a violet Corvette parked at the dig, Destiny gritted her teeth. Everywhere she turned she found Iris Blake Rampton.
Cowgirl diva
. Iris, dressed in purple jeans, a pale lavender shirt, and lavender lizard boots, charged right at Eric.
Designer chic
. Everything Iris wore cried out, “Expensive!” Destiny compared the outfit to her own striped T-shirt, Wrangler jeans and boots from the Trading Post. Her personal word?
Economy
.

Iris apparently couldn’t decide whom to coo at first. She latched onto Eric’s arm and smiled up into Martin’s face. Eric allowed her to hang on him, which infuriated Destiny. Last night he’d acted as if he were staking out Destiny as his territory, and now he’d forgotten she existed. A small part of her mind sat apart and watched objectively, amazed at this blaze of jealousy.

They picked their way down to the dig, Iris pointing out recent finds. Lee joined them. They walked around together examining the dig and some newly discovered artifacts, and discussed some caves that might be worth checking. The dogs all jumped out of the truck bed and started sniffing around.

The pure white flame was ignited and in full burn. All the coolness of the morning had been burned away and the sun’s heat felt like a physical blow. The rays were almost visible. It seemed as if each foot of altitude moved them dangerously closer to the heavenly inferno. “It’s getting pretty hot,” Destiny murmured, her voice faint and whispery. She held the back of her hand to her forehead.

Eric whirled and took her arm. “Are you all right? Come over to the shade and sit down. Somebody bring her something to drink!”

A glass was pressed into Destiny’s hand and she sipped cool water. She felt like a fool, glancing up to see hate burning in Iris’s violet eyes.

“Oh, good grief.” Iris tossed her head disdainfully. “I’m fairer than she is, and you don’t see me passing out.”

Eric, on one knee in front of Destiny, glared up at Iris. “She’s just getting over heatstroke, or something way too close to it.” He scooped Destiny into his arms. “Let’s take her home, Martin. It’s too hot out here for her.”

Destiny put her arms around Eric’s neck and stared over his shoulder at Iris. She had to firmly clamp her lips together to keep from sticking out her tongue. She hadn’t been faking; she’d really felt faint for a moment.
But, oh, how sweet this instant of triumph!

The next morning, Destiny felt perfectly fine. In fact, she’d felt fine all the day before, except for that little wooziness at the dig.

Eric and Domingo left to repair some fence line Domingo couldn’t do alone. Destiny wanted to get to cell service and a Wi-Fi signal if possible, or the post office, but had promised Eric not to drive the Mustang until she got a new tire.

“I’ll drive you,” Martin offered when she mentioned it.

“Oh, would you? I accept.” She bestowed her dimpled smile upon him and ran lightly to her room to retrieve the hidden thumb drive.

“We’ll be back later,” Martin called out to Estrella as they went out. “Where’s your bad tire? We’ll take it along and see if we can find a new one.”

“In the trunk.” She popped the latch, and Martin swung the tire out and into the back of the Suburban.

Martin wasn’t quite the wild and woolly driver as Eric, and the Suburban offered soft springs and air-conditioning. Well, the truck had air-conditioning, but she’d discovered yesterday on the ride home that it didn’t work. Which caused Eric to drive even faster.

“Why are you smiling?” Martin asked.

“Oh, no reason. It’s a beautiful day.”

“True. I admit this is beautiful country here, but I prefer the Texas Hill Country. Ever been there?”

“Sure. I live in Austin, remember? It’s the beginning of the Hill Country. I’ve visited all around Texas. The Hill Country is a completely different kind of beauty. Cool and restful. This is a savage and desolate beauty. This stirs me. It speaks to me.” She turned to face Martin. “I can’t really explain.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t do me that way. But is does Eric. After Dad’s accident—he fell off the barn roof—and Dad and Mom retired, they turned this ranch over to Eric. They hadn’t been seriously ranching for a while anyway, and that fall cinched it. They’d been spending more and more time at their home in Albuquerque and this got fairly run down. I’m satisfied. I have the Double Bar-M, which is what I prefer, where I prefer it.”

“Estrella told me very romantic stories about your grandparents, how your parents met, and how your grandfather and grandmother inherited this ranch.”

“I’m not surprised. Estrella loves to recite the Montoya history. But Grandpapa didn’t stop at what he inherited, and neither did my dad. He bought the Double Bar-M, plus has made other investments. Which is a good idea, because the way you make a small fortune in ranching is to start with a large one, and know when to quit.” He grinned, arching a brow at her. “Are you impressed?”

“Yes. You may be teasing, but seriously, Martin. Your parents sound remarkable. I know you’re proud of them. And your grandparents as well.”

“Yeah, I am. We all are.” He winked at her. “Now, where do you want to go? Post Office? You can probably get cell reception in town, but the Wi-Fi’s down. I think they’ve been working on the tower after a lightning strike.”

“Post Office and cell signal will do nicely.”

“Okay. First the Post Office, then to find a signal.”

Destiny bought a small mailer bag at the little Post Office, sealed in her thumb drive securely, and mailed it to her editor. Now to call and let him know it was on its way. Thankfully, Martin didn’t hover around while she used her phone.

“Ed,” she said when her editor answered, “I think I’m onto something here.” Though she gave him a quick rundown of events, she couldn’t bring herself to voice her suspicions of Eric. “I mailed the thumb drive. Guard it with your life.”

“Absolutely. You be careful. And stay with it.”

She hopped back into the Suburban. “I’m done.”

“Okay, we’ll run out to Bull’s Garage and see if he has a tire for your car.”

“Great. That’d be wonderful.”

Martin drove just past the edge of town and turned in to park at a weathered but fairly well-kept auto repair shop. *
BULL’S GARAGE*
proclaimed a sign above the door. Destiny thought she might have misunderstood the name, but she had not. As they stepped out of the Suburban, a stocky, wide-shouldered man emerged from the interior, wiping his hands on a red shop towel. Broad and heavy-set, he shared Eric’s Native American coloring, but was certainly not as good-looking. But then, few men were, in Destiny’s opinion. Recalling her and Eric’s discussion about names by the creek, she didn’t intend to ask the man if ‘Bull’ was his Indian name. She had to smother a giggle at the memory.

She tuned in to the two men’s conversation about her tire.

“ . . . got one to fit?” Martin was asking.

“Coming on a delivery today,” Bull replied. “In fact, your brother ordered it.”

“Great. That means it’s for Destiny’s car. Oh, Destiny, this is Bull. Bull, meet Destiny. She’s writing some stories about the area.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and Bull continued, “Did you bring the wheel? When the shipment gets here, I can mount it and you can come back for it. It’ll probably take at least a couple of hours. The truck just left Albuquerque a little while ago.”

“Yeah, that’ll work,” Martin said. He got the tire out and handed it over. “Appreciate it, man. Here’s my credit card.”

Bull headed into the garage with a wave, calling over his shoulder, “Pay when you come to get the tire.”

“Martin, I can’t let you pay for the tire,” she protested.

“Sure you can.” Taking her by the arm, he whispered in her ear, “Sugar, I could buy every tire in here if I wanted to. Now be quiet and don’t make a scene. This important, high-falutin’ old Texas rancher will take care of it.”

She raked him with a glare of exasperation, but he dazzled her with his hundred-watt smile and she surrendered.

They climbed into the Suburban. “Let’s kill some time instead of driving back to the ranch, and having to drive back again to get the tire. Been to Renegade Ridge Park?”

“No, and I’d love to go.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

After traveling several miles further out of Las Nubes, they turned into the entrance, and drove the steep, winding, scenic route up to headquarters, which consisted of a Visitor Center and a convenience store. They went inside to buy cold drinks.

“I must salvage my pride somehow,” she insisted, setting their soda pop and bottled water onto the counter and paying for their drinks before he could. They found a bench and sat down.

Destiny noticed foot trails; one a quarter of a mile long giving an Overlook view. A two-and-a-half-mile trail led to Overlook Drop itself.

Ears still popping, Destiny noted the visitor center sat at several thousand feet of elevation within a rim of mountains rising more than two thousand feet above it.
I should have bought some gum.
She’d always heard chewing it helped with the altitude changes. The Overlook formed a ‘V’ in the rimming mountains, affording a fantastic view. Finishing their drinks, they tossed the bottles into a trash container.

“Let’s hike to Overlook Drop,” Martin suggested. “I’ve never been on that trail. Can you do the two and a half miles?”

“Of course.”

“Remember, you’ve been sick.”

“I have not been sick.” She flounced on ahead. “I got a little too hot, that’s all.”

She proceeded down the trail, aware that Martin watched her, again wondering about the dynamics that spun between him, Eric and Iris. She’d love to question Martin, but what if her prying opened a Pandora’s Box that proved too hard to close? No, even though impatient, she realized she couldn’t pepper Martin with questions. Not at this time. Not yet.

“Come on, slow poke!” Destiny waved Martin forward. Then she raised her camera and took his picture. Dancing down the trail, she took another. Martin made a face.

“That’s the one I’ll post online.” She laughed as they trotted downward. About midway down, they found tall trees surrounding a bench, flanking a little creek with a trickle of water in it. “I can’t believe this.” Destiny snapped away. “Just breathtaking. The junipers and pinion pines smell divine. The air is so crisp you could bite it. Sit on the bench. I’ll take your picture.”

Martin complied. “Now you sit on the bench and I’ll take your picture.” He grinned. “If you’ll show me how to shoot that fancy thing.”

She demonstrated the camera’s operation and posed for him. Swinging her legs up onto the bench, she put one hand to her head and one on her waist, giving him a cheesecake shot. She jumped up, giggling. “Enough of that nonsense.”

They continued down the trail. Destiny really felt much better today, more normal since her heatstroke, or whatever had befallen her. She was glad they’d done this. Martin hadn’t ‘come on’ to her or made a pass today. She hoped it would stay that way. Because even though he was a very attractive man, a certain person had written his name all over a great big chunk of her heart.

In a way, it felt scary. She’d truly believed she’d never give her heart away again after the breakup with Jason. Because even though she’d been hurt, and angered at his ridicule and lack of respect, she’d loved him. It had taken her a long time to stop missing him, to stop fantasizing that they’d get back together. When she finally broke those shackles, she swore never to dive into that morass again. Yet here she was, in a great big swan dive. And with whom? A man who might be involved in illegal activity. C
all it what it was: Smuggling.
Those people were smuggling, no doubt about it. And she needed to find out what.