Trouble in Tourmaline (Silhouette Special Edition) (8 page)

BOOK: Trouble in Tourmaline (Silhouette Special Edition)
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“Nice of him. Let’s plan on it. I’d like to meet this lawyer who defected.”

Not long after the hour was up they went inside the school. The door to the room was open and it sounded as though all ten violin students were talking at once.

As they entered the room Amy saw that the red-haired girl who must be Betty was chattering to Sarah as both girls placed their violins back in the cases.

“Hi, Betty,” Amy said. “Your mother went shop
ping for groceries. I told her you’d be with us on the playground until she got back.”

“Awesome,” Betty said. “Sarah and I’ll get to hang out longer.”

Sarah looked happy at the prospect, which meant she liked Betty.

Outside, violin cases placed out of the way, the two girls grabbed swings. David pushed Sarah and Amy pushed Betty until Cary McBride came rushing up.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said. “It took longer than I thought.”

“No problem,” David told her. “The girls enjoyed the extra time together.”

“I’m so glad.” She glanced at her watch. “Hurry up, Betty, you know we have to get home before your father does.”

Betty obeyed with no dawdling. That, combined with the note of strain in Cary’s voice, made Amy wonder if the father might be a petty tyrant.

“Bye,” Sarah called after her.

“See you next week,” Betty called back.

“I really like her,” Sarah confided as she climbed into the back cab of the truck. “She’s fun.”

Amy took note that Sarah didn’t ask if they thought Betty liked her. Bless that little redhead for her exuberant friendliness. A few friends like Betty would do wonders for the girl.

“I’m cooking dinner tonight for you both,” she told David and Sarah once they were on the road. “I asked Gert, but she’s busy.”

“What have we done to deserve it?” David asked.

“Nothing. You’re my friends, that’s all.”

“I’ll bring wine,” he said.

“I think I like Great-aunt Gert, too,” Sarah said. “She tells awesome stories.”

“See, I told you,” David said. “Counting Sheba, you’ve already used up all the fingers on one hand.”

Amy understood he must be referring to those Sarah liked—or maybe those who liked Sarah. Or both.

 

Dinner was a success despite the fact Amy forgot the potatoes and they almost burned. Afterward, Sarah drifted into the living room because she’d been promised she could watch the newest Disney movie on the VCR. David started it for her, then went back to help Amy with the cleanup.

The dishwasher took care of almost everything so they were soon finished. “We could go watch the movie with Sarah,” she suggested.

“If I sit on a couch with you,” he told her, “watching a Disney movie will be the furthest thing from my mind. How about sitting out on the balcony?”

Since each second-floor apartment had a tiny balcony off the living room, the balconies weren’t exactly private. Which was just as well, Amy decided, remembering all too clearly what a struggle she’d had pulling herself away from David when he kissed her in the bedroom last week at Gert’s.

Private or not, they had no sooner walked through the sliding door onto the balcony before he pulled her into his arms. “Long time between kisses,” he murmured as he covered her mouth with his.

Every time he kissed her, she melted, there was no
help for it. Never before had any man’s kiss made the world blur and then vanish. Never before had her entire being responded to the touch of a man’s lips. Only with David.

There could be only one resolution to how he made her feel. Somehow, though, it never seemed to be the right time or the right place to make love. The knowledge that this night and this balcony was neither didn’t prevent her from pressing closer, clinging to him while he held her tight against him, her softness pressed against his hardness.

“We fit,” he whispered against her lips.

The sound she made in agreement was somewhere between a moan and a purr. How had she let herself get into such a state? One touch and she felt like a sparkler, sizzling and shimmering all over. What had happened to her boast to herself that no man could ever make her lose control? They hadn’t even gotten naked yet and she was so far gone that if he threw her down on the cement floor of the balcony all she’d do was encourage him.

When finally they drew apart, she had to lean against the railing to steady herself.

“We’ll drive us both crazy if we go on like this much longer,” he rasped.

“I know.”

It wasn’t as simple as her going to his apartment after Sarah was asleep and sharing his bed. What if Sarah woke up? No matter how much she wanted to make love with him, she’d never do anything that might upset Sarah. And, of course, he couldn’t come
to her apartment and leave Sarah alone in his, even if she was asleep.

“I’ve heard anticipation is half the fun,” she said, trying to inject a lighter tone.

“To hell with anticipation. I want you now.”

The growl in his voice settled deep into her bones, setting up vibrations that threatened to undo her. He must know how much she wanted him, too. Now.

A picture flashed into her mind—some comic, was it Carol Burnett?—ripping open her dress and leaping onto the lap of a startled man crying, “Take me, I’m yours!”

Imagining herself doing the same thing, Amy began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

Between giggles, she tried to tell him.

The end result was a hard kiss, one that left her breathless, then a swat on her butt, sending her toward the door. “Disney it is,” he said ruefully.

Chapter Eight

T
he following Saturday, a beautiful high desert July day, hot and dry, Gert insisted David drive her car to the Pyramid Lake Paiute reservation, saying, “I may be agile for seventy, but it’s hard to look graceful hauling myself up into that pickup of yours. Sarah and I will sit comfortably in back, thank you.”

Which left Amy in the front seat with David, which suited him just fine. Once they were under way, he heard Sarah ask Gert, “Are you really seventy years old?”

“And holding,” Gert told her.


He
said smart people retire at sixty.” By now they all knew that “he” meant her stepfather. “I know what
retire
means, because I asked my teacher,” Sarah continued. “My daddy said you were a really smart lady, but you told me you still take care
of people with troubled minds and that means you’re not retired.”

“Actually I did retire at sixty-two,” Gert said. “They had a party for me at the hospital in Las Vegas where I worked and I made a speech about how old psychiatrists never die, they just shrink away. Then I moved to my retirement home in Tourmaline and pretty soon I was bored because I had nothing to do that interested me. So I decided to try to take care of just a few people. A few became a lot. I needed someone to help me and I found Amy.”

“That was lucky.”

Sarah didn’t know how lucky, David thought.

“I think it was lucky you came to spend the summer with us,” Gert told her. “I enjoy your company very much.”

“My friend Betty from violin class calls you a shrink. Is that a bad word?”

“No, that’s just a word people use for
psychiatrist.
So you see, when I said I was just going to shrink away, I didn’t know then that I’d actually wind up still working as a shrink. I’m glad you’ve found a friend.”

Sarah, who was too young to grasp the nuances of shrinking away, continued to chatter on about Betty. Under the cover of her voice, David said to Amy, “You’re quiet.”

“I was eavesdropping on the two in back.”

“Can we turn on some music, Daddy?” Sarah asked. “Ms. Archer said we should listen to music and try to hear the violins.”

“Sure. We’ll all listen for them,” David said.

At the reservation, he parked at the Bearclaw ranch. As they got out, Sage came running toward them, still lanky at twelve, but showing traces of the woman she’d one day become. “Hey,” she said to them. After David introduced Sage and Amy, Sage focused on Sarah.

Holding out her hand, she said, “We found some powwow clothes to fit you. Come with me and you can try them on.”

After seeing her father nod, Sarah didn’t hesitate to go ahead with Sage.

Amy looked at David, sharing his pleased smile at Sarah’s improved self-confidence. “Are powwow clothes special?” she asked as they walked toward the house.

“Western is fine, so your denim skirt fits right in,” David said.

Shane Bearclaw and his wife, Laura, greeted them cordially. Amy responded, but her attention was fixed on the impressive old man whose braids hung down onto an elaborate beaded buckskin shirt. Grandfather?

After he handed the little boy he held to Shane, his dark gaze caught hers and he examined her with obvious interest, finally smiling at her. “You’re Amy,” he said. “Even in my hawk dream you had green eyes.”

Unsure how to respond, she finally said, “I’ve heard about that dream.”

“When you’re ready, I’ll tell it to you. Today, we’ll share the powwow.” He held out a feathered band. “For your wrist.”

As she was fastening hers in place, she saw him hand another, slightly different, to David, who put it around his wrist. Sage appeared with Sarah, both decked out in colorful costumes.

Grandfather then announced, “It’s time to go.”

They followed Shane’s truck past a beautiful lake set among a strange-to-Amy landscape with no trees, only rocks and sparse desert growth. Odd-shaped formations rose above the water here and there.

“I almost feel like I’m on the moon,” she said.

“My teacher told us there’s no water on the moon,” Sarah informed her, making them all smile.

Parked cars and trucks crowded together near a large frame building. Color and sounds assailed Amy’s eyes and ears as they approached it on foot. The delicious smell of what David told her was Indian fry bread cooking made her mouth water. Sage and Grandfather found them, taking both Sarah and Gert away “for the dancing.”

Amy was amazed. “Does he mean Gert actually participates in the Paiute dances?”

David nodded. “She says it’s a way of renewing one’s life force.”

“So people who aren’t Native Americans can dance with the Paiutes?”

“If they’re sponsored by one and if they try to learn not only the steps, but the meaning of the dances.”

Aware the dances had a spiritual basis, Amy wondered if Sarah was old enough to understand this. Or if she’d be too afraid to try to dance because of her leg. She loved the sandals and sneakers with the lifts
David had arranged for, but dancing in them was another matter altogether. Sarah obviously had been overcome with instant admiration for Sage, but would it be enough to overcome her fear of being ridiculed?

“Laura Bearclaw seems young to have a daughter as old as Sage,” Amy said.

“Sage is Shane’s half sister. Different fathers. The boy is Shane and Laura’s, though.”

The Bearclaws had all looked relaxed and happy. Amy tried to suppress the twinge she often felt when confronted with what appeared to be a well-adjusted family. She realized appearances weren’t necessarily the truth, but somehow she’d sensed a true connection between the Bearclaws. Her own family hadn’t been dysfunctional exactly, but… She sighed.

Looking up, she found David eyeing her quizzically. “Something wrong?”

“Not really.”

He seemed about to question that when an earsplitting whistle startled them both. An insistent drumming began. People began to drift toward the building, so they followed suit. When they’d nearly reached the open doors, a woman called David’s name and he paused. Amy watched as one of the most gorgeous women she’d ever seen threw her arms around him and gave him a hug.

“So good to see you,” she told him when she stepped back.

“It’s been a long time.” He turned to Amy. “This is Jessica Patsona. Amy Simon.”

Jessica, tall, dark and sleek, smiled at Amy. “I
heard Gert had taken on an associate.” Glancing at David, she said, “How lucky for you.”

David grinned at her. “Where are you working these days?”

Jessica grimaced. “Chicago. The Midwest isn’t my favorite place. Or maybe what I mean is the people I’m dealing with right now don’t rate high in my book. You’re looking good.”

He shrugged.

Switching her attention to Amy, Jessica evaluated her with her gaze. “Must be you’re the key that switched him from off to on. And high time, too. I’m glad we met. See you later.” With that, Jessica tunneled into the crowd and vanished.

“She’s got a point,” David said. “I’m definitely turned on.”

By her or by me? Amy wondered sourly, then shook her head as though to erase the thought. True, Jessica was at least a ten, but it wasn’t even remotely possible that Amy Simon could be jealous. Never. To be jealous implied heavy-duty emotions, a deep involvement with David. Chemistry, yes, anything else, no.

So why did she find herself asking, “How long have you known Jessica?”

“We met at last year’s powwow. She’s not home much—works as an associate for a Frisco firm that sends her around the country.”

“Wow, I would have said a model.”

“Yeah, she’s got the looks. A classy gal.”

The next question was how well had he known her, but that was one she’d bite her tongue off before ask
ing, considering the words were as green with jealousy as Jessica’s striking eyes.

As though aware of her thoughts, he said, “I didn’t remember her eyes were green, too. Different shade than yours, though.”

“Daddy, Daddy.” Sarah’s excited voice cut through Amy’s unwelcome musing. “Come watch. Sage taught me the kid’s dance and I can do it.” She grasped David’s hand and urged him forward.

David caught Amy’s hand and pulled her along with him.

Inside, a large central area had been roped off and colorfully costumed children were gathering there. Sarah, who was wearing her own denim skirt with faux silver ornaments, had exchanged her white T-shirt for a beaded one with a hand-painted rabbit in the center. Her brown hair was held back with a thong that had silver and red ribbons threaded through it.

“You look like you really belong among the dancers,” Amy told her as they made their way to the center ring.

“Sage said I’m supposed to think about being part of everything around me when I dance,” Sarah confided. “Like that lake and the rocks and the sky and the animals.”

“Good idea,” David told her.

“I’m going to think about Sheba, too,” Sarah said as she ducked under the rope and hurried to where Sage was standing.

“How is the kitten?” Amy asked David.

“Eyes open, tumbling around with her siblings. Smaller than them, but just as feisty.”

Amy stood watching with David as the children began their dance. Boys first, then girls. She spotted Sarah, wearing a fierce frown of concentration, but noticed her expression brightening as the girls continued to circle the ring, dancing in time to the rhythm of the drums.

“She’s starting to enjoy herself,” Amy murmured, as proud of the girl as if she’d been her own.

David squeezed her hand, making her aware they were still holding hands like any couple in love.

Whoa. Back up, girl. Love has no place in this twosome. But she left her hand in his.

When the children finished, the men danced, then the women, Gert among them, looking supremely self-confident, as usual. Jessica, her exotic beauty heightened by her Paiute costume, was right behind Gert.

“They all dance separately,” Amy commented.

“Jessica told me that’s because dance steps differ for men and women. So does the reason for the dances.”

Jessica again. Well, so what?

“After this is over we’ll grab something to eat before the couples dancing starts,” he added. “I recommend the buffalo tacos.”

Outside, they connected with Sage and Sarah long enough to buy food for the kids, then Sage led Sarah off again, promising to meet them in an hour and a half. After she and David finished eating, Amy bought hand-made obsidian wind chimes from one of the Paiute vendors and they detoured to leave the chimes in Gert’s car. By the time they returned to the building,
music drifted on a wind tinged with the faint smell of sage.

Though they’d never danced together before, Amy already knew how well she fitted in David’s arms. Public place or not, at his touch the same tingle of desire trickled through her. “Been waiting for this,” he whispered in her ear.

She floated dreamily through two numbers before Grandfather insisted it was his turn to dance with her. David whirled off with his aunt, leaving her with the old medicine man, who turned out to be a talented dancer.

“In my dream, the hawk with green eyes didn’t know her own heart,” he told her. “She was a stubborn bird, determined to fly off in a certain direction, as if her choice was the only path. We all are faced with many paths and the truest way to choose is with the heart.”

Taken aback, she stammered, “I don’t—I’m not sure I understand.”

“My heart tells me you are the hawk from my dream.”

Amy gathered her wits. “Because of my green eyes? Aren’t Jessica Patsona’s also green?”

Grandfather sighed. “Like you, Jessica has yet to understand her heart, but she was not my dream hawk.”

He spoke softly, yet the finality in his tone convinced her he believed what he said whether she did or not. Like all prophecies, it was vague enough so that she could interpret his words however she chose.

She was about to say so when Grandfather said,
“The male hawk was David, also flying in his own stubborn direction. I will warn him, too.” He sighed again. “Why is it the young have no ears to hear?”

Shortly after this, Shane Bearclaw claimed a dance with her, leaving Grandfather with Laura.

Shane was as gorgeous a man as Jessica was a woman. It occurred to Amy that he and she might have grown up together, so she asked him.

“Jessica was younger,” he said. “I knew her, but we didn’t run with the same crowd as kids.” He grinned down at Amy. “Mine was wilder.” His smile faded. “I came back to the res when I got it through my thick head I belonged here. She stays away.”

“Isn’t that all right?”

He shrugged, frustrating her. Why did men so often insist on letting questions roll off their shoulders? David was a prime offender.

As if she’d said the name out loud, Shane said, “David’s looking good.”

Jessica’s words. Before she realized what she meant to do, she snapped, “It’s my opinion as a psychologist that he’s still in denial.”

Shane held her away from him a little, staring down at her with elevated eyebrows. “Denial of what?”

Already regretting her words, she muttered, “Well, law, for one thing. He won’t face the fact that’s what he really wants to do.”

“You’re treating him?” Shane’s voice held a certain chill.

“No,” she said hurriedly. “If I was, I would never have talked about his problem.”

“So your opinion is that of a friend who happens to be a psychologist.”

She nodded, sorry she’d brought up the subject.

“David’s my friend, too,” Shane said. “I work with mustangs—Nevada’s wild horses—and they’ve taught me patience, among other things. If it’s in David’s heart to return to law, he will. If not, he won’t. Pushing him won’t work.”

“You sound like Grandfather.”

“I should, he trained me.” With that, Shane swung her around, intercepting David, who was dancing with Jessica. “Time for a change,” he said.

Moments later Amy was back in David’s arms, but now it wasn’t the same. “I need a breather,” she said.

He led her off the floor and out of the building.

“You don’t need to come with me,” she told him.

“What if I want to?”

Before she could answer, Sage and Sarah ran up. “Can I stay at Sage’s house tonight?” Sarah asked. “Her brother has to drive into Gardnerville tomorrow to drop off some of the stuff he makes for a gift shop, so he’ll take me to Tourmaline first.”

BOOK: Trouble in Tourmaline (Silhouette Special Edition)
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