Renegade Moon (CupidKey) (12 page)

After Lee examined the cave, they started back down. They found a pile of flint chips and Lee picked up two complete arrowheads. Eric led them single-file back down, Iris right behind him. Destiny followed Iris, and Martin and Lee brought up the rear. Reaching a part of the trail covered with loose rock, Iris skidded and with a little cry tumbled right into Eric. He turned quickly, catching her as she fell.

“Ooh, my ankle,” she wailed, obviously faking the injury in Destiny’s opinion.

Destiny steamed as Eric helped Iris the rest of the way down, then picked her up and carried her to her horse. This time
her
arms were around his neck, and
her
triumphant smile beamed over his shoulder at Destiny.

“Where are we going, Eric?” Iris asked, as he hoisted her onto her horse.

“The swimming hole.” Turning away, he didn’t act too concerned, much to Destiny’s satisfaction. “You can see how your ankle feels then, maybe soak it in the cold water.” Eric added. He boosted Destiny, swung onto Pinto’s back and they rode off. Iris urged her horse forward to Eric’s side.

The swimming hole fascinated Destiny. Yards and yards of smooth white rock marked the passage of many a gallon of rushing water. In the center of this smooth, dry expanse, a deep pool glimmered. Nature had carved steps in the rock down to the water. Delighted, she climbed down to explore and take pictures. The pool wasn’t large, perhaps ten-by-twenty feet, and she could see the steeply sloping bottom. Martin and Lee joined her. They climbed back to the top together and walked over to the grove of small cottonwoods and desert willows where Iris sat, her boot off. Eric was examining her ankle.

“ . . . don’t see any swelling,” he said as Destiny walked up.

She peered at the ankle, then smiled brightly at Iris. “Aren’t you lucky? I don’t think you’re hurt much at all. Do you, Eric?”

“Nope,” he said shortly, and stood. “Hey, Martin. Grab the food and let’s eat.”

Iris glared, but Destiny ignored her.

After lunch, they all went behind rocks to change. Destiny felt the eyes of every cowboy who’d ever ridden the range of New Mexico staring at her. She felt silly in a bikini and boots, but she needed footwear to walk over this rough ground. She was disappointed to see only Martin wearing cutoffs. Did Eric decide not to swim? And she’d wanted to see him in his cutoffs! She turned to hide the blush staining her face and walked to the pool with Martin. They took off their boots and climbed down to the water, which lapped about seven or eight feet below the surface rock.

“Cutie, cutie,” Martin teased, standing at the water’s edge. “Woo woo.”

“Hush. You’re embarrassing me.” But she couldn’t help giving him the once-over, too. He had fine black hair on his chest, a slim waist, and nice straight legs.

She touched her toe to the water. “Brrr.”

Martin pushed her in and jumped in beside her, surfacing like a seal. The shock of cold water still had her squealing when Eric came off the top, feet first, straight as a knife. When he surfaced, Martin laughed and splashed him.

“I thought that pretty blue bikini would lure you in, little brother.”

“Shut up.” Eric dunked him.

Unable to stifle her bubbling laughter, she hoped to escape anymore submerses while they were focused on each other.

Destiny swam away from the tussling brothers. They followed her like sharks, making fins with their hands and baring their teeth. She splashed Martin and turned right into Eric. He grabbed her, raised her completely out of the water, and dropped her.

Destiny opened her eyes and looked around. She was a water baby. No problem. Through the crystal clear water, she could see the solid rock walls and floor of the pool. Small rocks and pebbles dotted the bottom. She kicked downward for a closer look. Eric appeared beside her, smiling foolishly, bubbles escaping from between his clenched teeth. She giggled a bubble and had to surface.

They swam, chasing each other, and Destiny realized the guys were mimicking her. She began looping and whirling. Taking a breath and submerging, she floated there, suspended, the two brothers facing her. But she couldn’t tear her gaze from Eric. So broad. So bronze. Very little body hair. She watched his muscles ripple as he moved his arms and legs to maintain his position. Realizing she was staring, she surfaced quickly and swam for the climb-out ledge. Sitting on the rock, she dangled her legs in the water. Both men joined her, one on either side.

A current, warm and thick, flowed between her and Eric. Though they sat inches apart, she could sense him almost as if they were touching. She wondered if he felt the same way, or if Martin noticed, and she didn’t dare look at either of them.

“We’d better get dressed,” Eric said presently.

“Right,” Destiny agreed with a sigh. “But it’s so lovely here.” It would have been even lovelier had she and Eric been alone.

Not wanting to pull on her boots, Destiny picked them up to walk barefoot over the smooth rock to the trees. She quickly discovered the rock was much too hot. “Ow, wait!” She hopped on one foot, attempting to pull on a boot.

Eric strode back and swept her up, depositing her under the trees. She picked up her clothes and returned behind her rock to change. Just as she fastened her jeans, Iris circled the side of her rock dressing room.

“We need to talk.” Leaning against a boulder, Iris crossed her arms like an irate teacher.

“About what?” Destiny took out her comb, hoping to hide her shaking hands.

“Eric George. Listen to me well, Miss Photojournalist. You can’t have him. Understand? I had him once, and I let him go for very stupid reasons—other people’s reasons at that. I don’t intend to lose him again. Is that clear?”

“No, Iris, it isn’t. I don’t think you have Eric to lose. Or am I missing something?”

“Oh, you’re missing a lot. Eric still loves me, but I hurt him once. He wants to punish me a little. But when he decides he’s had enough revenge, he’ll want me back.”

“Just how did you hurt him?” Destiny dropped her comb back into her bag.

“That’s not important. What’s important is that you understand the way things are. Leave him alone. I mean it. I can make your life very miserable. And I will.”

Destiny slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and tossed her head defiantly. “Don’t threaten me, Iris. I don’t take threats well.” Pushing past the taller woman, she returned to the trees. Outside, she appeared as calm as could be. But inside, she was shaking like a leaf.

As if to emphasize the conversation, Iris zeroed in on Eric, took his arm, and smiled up into his face. He arched a brow at her. Destiny saw nothing pleased or loving in his expression, but he didn’t shake off her hand, and he didn’t walk away from her. Could Iris be telling the truth? Was he merely punishing her for some past hurt, and would welcome her back into his arms as soon as he felt she’d suffered enough? Men surprised her by doing some illogical things and Eric mystified her at the best of times. Maybe Iris knew more than Destiny gave her credit for, or wanted to admit.

Destiny busied herself at Muffin’s side to hide her confusion. Martin boosted her this time, and again Iris rode beside Eric. Destiny wondered what had happened between them. Had they been sweethearts? Even engaged? And why would Iris give him up for, as she’d said, other people’s stupid reasons? Destiny decided that given another opportunity, she
would
question Martin. Maybe he’d tell her the story. And maybe that would help her conquer her own muddle.

Clouds gathered and thunder rumbled, punctuated by stabs of lightning. They urged the horses homeward at a brisk pace.

“We should get out of here,” Lee said when they arrived back at the house. “If that
arroyo
across this road runs, we could get stuck here.”

“Whatever,” Iris agreed with a shrug, appearing not to mind that situation in the least.

Destiny watched in relief as Iris got into the Mercedes to drive away with Lee. Then she turned her attention back toward Eric and Martin as Domingo met them. Together, the cowboy trio led the horses to the barn. Grabbing the picnic basket and cooler jug, Destiny hurried into the house.

Even from inside, she caught the whiff of rain.
They’d arrived home just in time
. Rain began falling, first in a light mist, then actually pattering audibly. It lured her back outside, so she strolled onto the porch. The thickly piled sotol sticks afforded a lot more protection than she’d believed. She’d imagined even the slightest rain running between them and splashing all over the porch. Instead, they channeled it outward. Some spots were dryer than others, and she stood beneath one.

Minutes later, Eric and Martin joined her. Eric inhaled deeply. “Ah, smell the rain on the junipers.” The expression on his face revealed pure pleasure. How proud he was about this land and everything it encompassed.

Destiny took a deep breath and almost levitated on the clean, sharp scent permeating the cool air. “Oh, heavenly.”

“Great guns. They’re tripping out on wet trees,” Martin teased, grinning at them.

Though mostly fine mist fell where they were, she could see sheets of rain slanted over the mountains.

“Come on, come on,” Eric chanted, as if to lure the moisture.

“Do a rain dance, little brother.”

Eric’s gaze narrowed. “You go right ahead.”

“A rain dance by an English, Scotch-Irish, Spaniard isn’t as effective as a genuine Native American’s.” Martin turned to Destiny. “What’s your bloodline, sugar?”

“Irish, English, a little Dutch, a little Swedish. Heinz-57.”

“Our mother is a mix a lot like you, and our father is Spanish and Scotch-Irish,” said Martin.

“What’s all this ‘our’ stuff, white man?” Eric growled.

“Include yourself out, in that case,” Martin replied lightly. Hooking his thumbs into his belt loops, he rocked on his heels, watching the rain.

“I
am
included out.” Eric’s voice lost its teasing note.

“All right, Sitting Bull. Whatever you say.” Annoyance shaded Martin’s words.

“Sitting Bull wasn’t Apache.” The statement sounded flat, void of banter.

“Well pardon me, Chief Whatever!”

Hissing something inaudible under his breath, Eric stepped off the porch into the misting rain and circled around the side of the house. Martin slammed his hand against the rock column he stood beside. Then he turned and stomped inside.

Destiny hovered on the porch, yet felt compelled to pursue Eric. The rain fell extremely fine, hardly serving to get her wet. Not seeing him anywhere, she wandered into the barn. She found Eric by Pinto’s stall, scratching the big horse’s nose.

As Destiny joined him, he glanced down at her. “Still raining?”

“Uh-huh.” She fluffed her hair, shaking out misty raindrops caught there. Eric reached for a strand and toyed with it. She grew quite still. He’d unbuttoned his damp shirt, revealing a bronze chest that took her breath away and drew her magnetically closer. Did he know his power over her or the way she longed to melt against him? The unbuttoned shirt proved irresistible, and she pressed her palms against his chest. Heat seemed to radiate up her arms from his flesh.

A quiver of excitement rushed through her and feeling his answering tremor, she stood on tiptoes and slid her hands up over the satin muscles of his rock-hard arms, up over his broad shoulders to lock there, holding him. Her pale skin contrasted richly with the burnished copper of his. She curved against his solid strength. Passion throbbed through her veins like molten lava. He bent his head, taking her mouth with his own, drinking honey-sweetness from her lips. Their kiss deepened as his hands ignited a trail of electric explosions, making her ache deliciously.

He released her in stages, each one as agonizing as an amputation. She kneaded his tense arm muscles with her hands. Confusion swept over her as she stared into his dark, unfathomable eyes. Why did he put her aside? She searched his face for a clue.

His lips parted as though he would speak, then they both heard the back door slam and what might have been said was not.

“There you are.” Martin sauntered into the barn. He walked down to Diablo’s stall next to Pinto’s and scratched the black stallion’s ears. He glanced at Eric. “Supper’s almost ready. Estrella said to tell y’all.”

Goldie came over, purring at his feet, and he bent down on one knee to pet her.

Eric rested a hand on the back of Martin’s neck and squeezed gently. “Cochise,” he said.

“Huh?” Martin twisted around to look up.

“Cochise was Apache.”

A grin slowly warmed Martin’s face. “Oh. Okay, Cochise.”

Destiny knelt to pet Goldie. Eric sat down and leaned against a support post. Goldie delightedly padded back and forth under the petting hands. Tiger came out and sauntered over to sniff at Eric’s leg, then allowed Eric to pet him. Eric turned his arm to scratch under the cat’s neck, and Destiny noticed a small but distinct scar on the underside of Eric’s left wrist. She touched it with a fingertip. Tiger shied at her hand’s approach, so she withdrew.

“My suicide scar,” Eric said with a straight face.

A funny little skitter chased down her spine and she glanced at Martin. He continued petting Goldie.

“Really?” Destiny asked in a small voice.

“It wasn’t pretty,” Martin said, sounding very serious. Then his smile gave him away. “It happened when Eric and I decided we wanted to be blood-brothers when we were kids. We’d watched a western with that bit in it, and of course decided that was us for sure. I was what, Eric, seven?”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t even six yet. We thought we knew what we were doing.”

“We stole a knife out of the kitchen, took it out behind the barn, and Eric cut my wrist and I cut Eric’s.” Martin displayed his own faintly scarred wrist. “Only, I nicked an artery in his wrist and it wouldn’t stop bleeding. We knew we’d get into trouble, but when the blood just kept pumping no matter what we did, we finally had to get help.”

Eric grinned. “I was the one bleeding to death and he did all the bawling and squalling.”

“You did some pretty fancy squalling yourself when Domingo sewed you up.”

“Dr. Painless he’s not. But he knew what to do and how to do it. The Bar-M is a far piece from Albuquerque. No Emergency Medics in Las Nubes then. A long drag with a bleeding kid.”