Книга - Forsaken Canyon

Forsaken Canyon
Margaret Daley


I'll arrest you.So threatens the tribal chief of police if Kit Sinclair dares enter Desolation Canyon alone. Hawke Lonechief insists it's too dangerous. He lost his wife to the treacherous canyon. He knows the ancient ruins Kit seeks aren't worth her life.But Kit is sure all that hiking and searching will help put her traumatic past behind her. When she risks Hawke's wrath by going alone, he fi nally agrees to lead her. On his terms. Impossible. Because someone else is following their every move. Watching them grow closer to danger with every step…









“I don’t know what happened to your wife in Desolation Canyon,” Kit said, “but I am not her.”


Hawke closed the space between them. Hissing in a breath, Kit went rigid, leaning back so far she could easily topple over the sofa with the slightest movement. Through clenched teeth, he muttered, “Don’t you ever bring my wife up again.”

Her chin went up another notch. “Oh, I see. It’s okay for you to play unfair, but not me.”

He thrust his face close to hers. Panic flared in her eyes, but he didn’t back down. Too much was at stake. “This isn’t a game. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

“You are not my keeper,” she said. “My work is very important to me, but I assure you I won’t take unnecessary risks.”

“So you’ve hiked in places like Desolation Canyon before?” he asked.

“Well, not exactly. If I had, I wouldn’t need you.”

Need you. Those words struck terror into his heart.




MARGARET DALEY


feels she has been blessed. She has been married more than thirty years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun. Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for over twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and participated in many sports with her students.




Margaret Daley

Forsaken Canyon








Blessed is that man that maketh the Lord his trust.

—Psalms 40:4


To Terri and Rene, thanks for

all the years of friendship




CONTENTS


PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION




PROLOGUE


The Guardian wished he hadn’t been forced to do this, but someone had to save Kit from her fiancé. She was just too naive and trusting.

Comfortably hidden in the shut-off balcony of the church, he lined up his sights on the rifle and aimed for the man’s heart. The sounds of the bridal march reverberated through the large nave. With precision and preparation he would succeed, and one day she would thank him.

Her fiancé stood on the steps to the altar, facing the center aisle. The smile the man gave Kit—as though he really loved her—chilled the Guardian. She deserved so much better.

Calmness descended as he adjusted his grip, checking his target. The sight of her nearing her fiancé prompted him into action. Taking a deep breath, he held it while fingering the trigger.

This is for you, Kit. He squeezed off the shot.




ONE


Kit Sinclair sat bolt upright in bed, darkness pressing in on all sides. Her lungs burned as she dragged air into them. The sound of her heart pounding thundered in her ears like the roar of a powerful storm.

Just another nightmare. I’m safe in my bedroom.

But the thought didn’t assuage the terror that constricted her chest as if she were standing in front of the altar right now. She could still see the red stain fanning outward on her fiancé’s snowy-white shirt, and Gregory’s hand reaching out to her. The screams in the church resounded through her mind. The scent of her fiancé’s blood filled her nostrils as though she were still holding his body clutched to her.

Will I ever be free of the memories, Lord?

She raked a wavering hand through her sweat-damp hair, then reached for the lamp on her bedside table. After two failed attempts, she finally managed to pull the chain, and a soft glow flooded the black recesses of her room. But her mind still remained in the clutch of darkness, had since the day her fiancé had been murdered right in front of her two years ago.

Glancing at her clock, she noted the time and realized she’d only gotten a few hours of sleep. She flipped back the sheet and climbed from the bed. She might as well work since she had to get up early anyway to drive from Albuquerque to her meeting in nearby Santa Maria Pueblo this morning.

Thankfully she had something to concentrate on other than her past. She could do nothing about what had happened, but she could prove her theory was right, hopefully with the help of Zach Collier’s cousin. If not she would find another way. Her job at the college depended on it.



Hawke Lonechief finished the dregs of his coffee and motioned for Anna, the owner of the café and his cousin, to refill it. “I’m gonna need it this morning.”

“Another all-nighter?”

“How can you tell?” Hawke took a tentative sip of the black brew, relishing its strong flavor, just the way he liked it, no sugar, no cream.

“Cousin, we grew up together. I know when you haven’t gotten any sleep. Do you ever see your mother?”

“Sure, we had dinner together two nights ago.” And his mother had basically read him the riot act, although in her case it was mainly said with her usual few words. She was worried about him. But, for him, working held the haunting memories at bay.

“You’re the chief of police, so why are you doing everything down at the station? What are the other officers for?”

Hawk shrugged. “What’s wrong with working?”

“Nothing, if in moderation. But you don’t know the meaning of the word.”

He grinned. “Sure I do. It means steering clear of any excesses. I don’t have time for excesses.”

“You don’t call nearly living at the station an excess?” She fluttered her hand in the air. “Nope. Don’t answer that. I never could change your mind while we were growing up. I don’t know why I even waste my breath trying to now.”

“I’m responsible for the safety and well-being of thousands of people. I don’t take that responsibility lightly.”

“And you shouldn’t, but what about your mother? Have you left Aunt Evelyn to fend for herself on the ranch?”

Stung by the rebuke of his well-meaning cousin, Hawke straightened in the booth and cupped the mug between his hands while he drank some more coffee. “Charlie’s wife got sick. Somebody had to take care of his small children. I couldn’t ask him to take his usual shift last night.”

Anna wagged her head. “There’s always something with you. Go home. Get some sleep.” She sent him a quizzical look. “You are going home, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am as soon as I meet with someone. Then home it is.”

“Good, because that ranch is too much for Aunt Evelyn alone.”

“That’s why I hired some more help.”

“Who?”

“Lighthorse’s oldest son, John.”

“Good. He’s reliable. She needs someone who is.”

“Ouch.” The persistent reproach in Anna’s voice needled Hawke. “As I told you, I have responsibilities I can’t shirk.”

“I know and we appreciate it. Crime is down at the pueblo since you took over as police chief. But we both know what this is really about.”

The door to the café opened, and a petite woman with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail entered. Hawke zeroed in on her, rather than continue the conversation, because there was no way he would get into a discussion with Anna about that.

The attractive woman scanned the tables and booths until she found him and then immediately headed in his direction. As he watched her move with assurance and economy, alarm bells—bells he usually listened to—went off in his mind. What had possessed him to agree to meet with this woman? He should have told his cousin Zach no.

Behind the pleasing features, he glimpsed a woman on a mission. The determined set to her chin and the focused look in her blue eyes alerted him to be wary. He didn’t need trouble. He’d had enough of that to last him two lifetimes.

Exhausted from no sleep in twenty-four hours, Hawke tried to paste a semblance of a smile on his face in greeting. Once he made a commitment, he didn’t back out no matter how much he wanted to. The corners of his mouth twitched in protest. He gave up and rose instead.

“Dr. Kit Sinclair?”

“Yes. You must be Zach’s cousin, Hawke Lonechief.” She grinned and took his hand to shake.

The brief, firm exchange didn’t relieve the tension building in his gut. He waved his arm toward the seat across from him. “Please, sit.”

After she slipped into the booth, Anna, who had been hovering on the side observing the meeting with more interest than Hawke would like, approached. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ve heard great things about your coffee here at the café from Zach Collier. That’s all I need.” That and the man across from me to agree to be my guide to Desolation Canyon.

“You know Zach?”

“I’m a professor of history at Albuquerque City College. We have worked together on a few projects.”

“Science and history working together?” The waitress poured a mug full of the wonderfully fragrant coffee.

“Thank you.” Kit lifted the cup to her mouth and drew in a deep breath of the aroma, one of the best smells in the world, especially since she tried to avoid sleeping as much as possible. She could use the whole pot after last night. “I helped Zach with some of the history behind his Aztec codices, at least the part that involved the Spanish conquistadors. That’s one of my specialties.”

Normally she wouldn’t go into so much detail except that she wanted the man across from her to know the information. Zach had told her Hawke Lonechief was the best person to help her, possibly the only one. He knew every square foot of Santa Maria Pueblo, and he could survive where most people couldn’t. The place she wanted to go to wasn’t called Desolation Canyon without reason. It was a hard, rough, barren land.

Like your life. The thought came unbidden into her mind. She shoved it away.

After the waitress left, Kit lounged back against the cushion, trying to relax her taut muscles. Even running through the mental relaxation technique a friend had taught her did nothing to alleviate the stress mounting in her as she got closer to discovering if her theory was right or not. Nor was imagining herself on top of a mountain, looking out over a beautiful vista right before the sun went down doing the trick—not when dark-brown eyes studied her with an intensity that stole her breath, her composure.

She did her own survey of the man. He was dressed in tan slacks and shirt with an emblem indicating he was a tribal police officer. His short black hair surprised her. She had pictured him with long hair on the hour drive from Albuquerque. What else would surprise her?

“Now that we have finished sizing each other up, why do you need a guide? Zach didn’t tell me much. Just that you two worked together and you were a friend.” Hawke finished his coffee and set it on the table.

Direct. She liked that. “I’m looking for evidence of the Lost City of Gold.”

“Who isn’t? But at Santa Maria Pueblo? I don’t think so.”

The territorial tone of his voice warned her this might not be an easy sell. “I think there was a lot of truth to the legend that sent Coronado all over the Southwest looking for it. Working with Zach, and what I discovered while in Spain researching the topic for my dissertation, has only reinforced my conviction, which has grown the past several years.”

One corner of Hawke’s mouth hitched up. “Sure. Who wouldn’t want to find a place so full of gold that all your worries would be taken care of.”

She stiffened at his mocking tone, but she realized that after all this time the tale did sound far-fetched. “I think there was a place that prompted the legend, but I’m not saying it exists today as it did five hundred years ago or that it was as grand as the story said. If it did, it probably would have been discovered.”

He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Do you make it a habit to go around telling people you’re looking for the Lost City of Gold?”

“No,” she said with a chuckle. “They would think I was mad.”

“Are you?”

“No. Sorry to disappoint you. I’m perfectly sane. But I need a guide, and Zach said you were the best, that you helped him and Maggie last year with the Aztec codices. I trust Zach’s opinion.”

“So you trust me?”

“Yes.” Did she have a choice?

“You shouldn’t.” His almost-black gaze drilled into her. “If there is a City of Gold out there and you’re looking for it, I wouldn’t trust anyone. People do a lot of nasty things for money.”

“To put your mind at rest, I haven’t advertised the fact in the Albuquerque newspaper.”

“That’s comforting, because after what Zach, Maggie and I, to a lesser degree, went through last year because of the codices, I would hate to see that happen to you.”

She inclined her head. “I’m touched by your concern.”

“If something happened to you at Santa Maria Pueblo, I would have to deal with it. That’s my job, not being a tour guide.”

His use of the word tour stung Kit. “I wouldn’t require much of your time. And, of course, I would pay for that time. I estimate five or six days to confirm if the remains of the Spanish mission are what I’m looking for.”

For a few seconds any emotion in his expression disappeared. Then a relentlessness scored his features. Tension vibrated in the air as he drew himself up, his large presence commanding. “Where do you expect to find these ruins?”

“The ruins are the ones you found a few years ago in Desolation Canyon. Zach told me about it a month ago when we were working on some background information for the new exhibit at the museum.” As she spoke, his expression turned to fury, as though a storm had swept into the café. This didn’t bode well for what she wanted. “Can you give me a few days of your—”

“No. I can’t.” He surged to his feet and tossed down some dollars. “Goodbye, Dr. Sinclair.”

As he stalked to the exit, Kit held her hands over the lukewarm coffee, trying to draw any warmth she could from it, because the temperature in the restaurant had definitely dropped twenty degrees in the past minute.

Desolation Canyon was in such a remote part of the reservation that few people visited there, and not usually because they wanted to. But why had he reacted like that? Did he know something about the canyon she didn’t?

Making a quick decision, she hurriedly paid for her drink and followed him outside. She had to know what she was getting into, because if he wouldn’t guide her, she would have to find someone who would. This was too important and could be a huge boost to her career.

Kit caught him scrambling into his Jeep. “Mr. Lonechief,” she called out from across the small parking lot on the side of the café.

He glanced at her and slammed his door shut. The next thing she heard was the roar of the engine. Brazenly she shot out in front of his vehicle before he put it into Drive, and blocked his path. He scowled as she came around to his window, her hand at all times on his Jeep as if she would cling to it if he sped away.

“What’s the problem with Desolation Canyon?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Besides being isolated, ruggedly harsh and not the latest tourist destination?”

“I know it won’t be an easy hike. But there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

He firmed his mouth into an even deeper frown. “Stay away from there.”

“Why?” She leaned toward him, her hands braced against his door.

A nerve in his jaw jerked. He stared forward for the longest moment, then muttered, “My wife died in that canyon. Now if you’ll excuse me, Dr. Sinclair, I’ve been up all night and need some sleep.” Hawke pointedly peered at her hands still on his Jeep door.

His revelation stunned her. It took a few seconds for a question to form in her mind. “How? What happened?”

Anger hardened his clenched jaw. He revved his engine.

“Will you at least recommend another guide?”

His expression blanked, leaving no indication of what he was thinking or feeling. “No.”

“You can’t be the only guide available!” She stepped back, because the scorch of his look convinced her not to try to stop him from leaving. She was only brave to a point.

“Stay away from there.” Hawke threw the black Jeep into Drive and screeched out of the parking lot.

Weary, she closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, his vehicle had vanished from her view. He must have broken a few laws getting away from her. If she weren’t so desperate for help, she would laugh about what just happened or cry at his revelation. But a couple of years ago she had determined emotions wouldn’t rule her life—ever again.

Her career was everything to her now. She was a researcher, more at home in a library surrounded by books, delving into the mysteries of the past. She couldn’t believe she had actually stood in front of his car to stop him from leaving. Woman of action had never been a description of her.



The lines and words on the map blurred together. Kit rubbed her eyes, but still her vision protested the hours spent researching in the college library. She wanted to make sure she knew all the history of Desolation Canyon and the best way into it. What she needed was a map with little dotted lines that led to the Spanish mission. The church was the key to the whereabouts of the City of Gold.

“Why am I not surprised to find you buried under a stack of books?” Dr. Zach Collier of the science department picked up a thick tome and read its title. “My, such a heavy topic about the climate conditions in the 1500s at such an early hour.”

“History of an area or time is more than people.”

“I imagine climate can have a huge impact on what happens through history. So how did the meeting with Hawke go yesterday?”

She frowned. “Not too well. He won’t be my guide.”

“I was afraid of that.” Zach slid into the chair across from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me his wife died in that canyon?”

Surprise widened Zach’s eyes. “He told you?”

“Yes. He didn’t know how else to get rid of me. What happened?”

“I don’t know much. I wasn’t living here at the time, and he won’t talk about it to anyone. Not even Evelyn will say anything. All I know is that it happened four years ago while he was home visiting his mother with his wife, Pamela.”

“Visiting? I thought he’d always lived here.”

“No. He went to college and law school at Yale. After he married Pamela, he became a junior partner in her father’s law firm in New York City. They came to New Mexico for a vacation, and on one of their hiking trips into the canyons northwest of here, Pamela fell from a cliff. Hawke only went back to New York to pack up his things.”

“It would have been helpful if I’d known that before I approached him.” Kit closed the volume she’d been studying.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t make a difference to Hawke. I thought the mention of the Lost City of Gold would prick his interest.”

“No, more like his derision.”

“Since the accident he hasn’t been the same. Evelyn doesn’t say much about it, but I know she’s worried about her son.”

“And you’re worried about him, too?”

“Yes, and he won’t let me help. He’s turned away from the Lord.”

“It’s sad how some people feel they have to wade through their problems by themselves. No one has to do that.” She remembered in the parking lot, before he’d driven away, the glimpse of hurt in his dark eyes that she instinctively knew he would deny.

“The Lord is always there for a person if he or she will only turn to Him.”

“True, and something I’m glad I’ve done.” Kit checked her watch. “I have a class in an hour and still have to look over my notes.” Rising, she gathered up the books before her.

Zach came to his feet. “What are you going to do now about going to the canyon?”

“Find another guide. Because after looking over a map of the area, I know I can’t do it alone. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone else who could do the job?”

“Not like Hawke. Sorry.”

“I’ll find someone. I’m not going to let this stop me.”

“I didn’t think it would, but be careful. That’s rough, isolated country.”

“First your cousin warns me and now you. It’s just another canyon, not some evil place.”

“I agree places aren’t evil, but people are. Be careful who you tell you’re looking for the Lost City of Gold. With Hawke you can be up front, but with others you shouldn’t.”

Kit chuckled. “Zach Collier, I appreciate your concern, but I’ve been on my own now for a while. I know how to take care of myself.” She’d had to learn how to do that because there was no way she would ever become involved with another man. After Gregory’s murder, she’d decided she would have to be satisfied with being single. That was when she had come to the conclusion her career would be her life.

He raised his hands, palms out. “My wife would be furious if I didn’t warn you.”

“Tell Maggie hi for me, and let her know I’ll call her soon. See you.” She carried the stack of books to the counter.

“Kit, did you find everything you were looking for today?” Samuel White, the research librarian who was always such a big help to her, pushed the books to the side.

“Yes and no. There’s a part missing, but I haven’t figured out what yet. Just as soon as I do, I’ll have you do a search for me in the network. I know we don’t have it here.”

“Just let me know, and I’ll find what you need.”

“Thanks.”

Another quick glance at her watch told her she would be late if she didn’t hurry. However, outside she couldn’t resist pausing for a few seconds and scanning the campus. A beautiful day. The bright sunlight lifted her spirits after the conversation with Zach, as though the Lord had orchestrated it just for her.

Multicolored flowers bloomed in the gardens that greeted the students as they entered the library. Tall maple trees lined the long walk that led to its main entrance, offering a person a cool reprieve from the heat. She wished she had time to enjoy the perfect spring day, but she quickly headed toward the history building, not far from the library.

Zach hadn’t given her much hope of convincing Hawke to be her guide, so she was left with only one option: to find another one. After class she had some thinking and planning to do.

When she arrived at her office, she found Dr. Wes Stanford waiting by her door. “Good morning.”

He smiled, his white teeth standing out against his tanned face. “I saw you from my window coming into the building. I thought this would be a good time for me to get that article you wanted me to read.”

“Let me find it.” She unlocked her door and entered. “I brought it from home a few days ago after we talked about it.” She rummaged through the piles on her desk and discovered the copy at the bottom of one of them.

“I’m always amazed at your resources.” Wes took it from her outstretched hand.

Shrugging, she stepped back to allow more space between them. “I love researching and collect everything I can get my hands on that has to do with history, especially early-American history, before we were a country.”

“I’d like to take you to lunch as a way of thanking you for all your help. How about after your ten-o’clock class today?”

“You don’t have to do that, Wes. I’m glad to help you any way I can.” She leaned back against her desk, aware of her notes that she wanted to read over sitting behind her just waiting for her. But Wes was a friend and the newest history professor on staff. “After all, I’ve got a vested interest in your career since I was your graduate advisor. It’s good to see how well you’re doing.”

“After that, I think I should scratch lunch plans and take you to dinner instead.” Wes moved closer.

Sweat glazed her forehead and upper lip. He’d invaded her personal space, although there was at least a foot between them. But with the desk behind her, she had little room to maneuver away. She offered him a trembling smile. “I wish I could, but I’m swamped right now. Maybe another time.”

“Sure.” He backed up, his grin wavering for a few seconds before he reinforced it.

Kit inhaled a deep breath and relaxed her grip on the edge of her desk. When he left, she slipped into the chair nearby, her legs weak. Why hadn’t she seen his interest before? Maybe she was jumping to the wrong conclusion, and it was only appreciation for what she’d helped him with during the three years of their close association, first as a graduate student and now as a professor.

She liked Wes; she saw the same appreciation for history as she had, but that was all she would ever feel toward any man—friendship. Discovering Gregory’s betrayal on top of dealing with his murder had nearly sent her over the edge. The Lord and her friends had managed to hold her together, but she didn’t want to go through that kind of loss ever again.

She caught sight of her notes on her desk and stood. She still needed to reread them before her class. Afterward, she would tackle the problem of finding a guide.



A bright shaft of light slanted across Hawke’s desk at the police station. He finished the report and slapped the folder closed. Time to go home. He needed to check and see if his new ranch hand was working out. Anna was right, not that he would ever tell her. He should pay more attention to the family ranch and make sure his mother wasn’t burdened with too much work.

He started to rise from his chair, but the phone ringing stopped him in midaction. He sank back down and snatched up the receiver. “Lonechief.”

“Hawke—”

He instantly recognized Zach’s voice and sat up straight, remembering whom his cousin had sent to him only a couple of days ago.

“Maggie and I want you to come to dinner at our house before the dedication of the Collier/Somers Wing of the museum.”

“I forgot about the dedication. It’s this Saturday night?”

“Yes, in just two days. I’m glad I called to remind you. Is Evelyn coming?”

“She wouldn’t miss it for the world, but Albert is bringing her.”

“Albert Cloudwalker? Doesn’t he own the trading post by the highway into Albuquerque?”

“Yes, and yes, Mama has been seeing him.”

“Interesting.”

There was a wealth of questions in that one word. “I’m glad she’s seeing someone finally.”

A long pause, then, “I wish you would reconsider taking Kit to Desolation Canyon.”

Hawke had known that Zach would approach him about this, but it didn’t make any difference. He wouldn’t go to the canyon again. He couldn’t. Not there. “What time is dinner?”

“Six, since the dedication ceremony is at eight. And I get the point. No more talking about Kit and Desolation Canyon.”

“I’ve always said you were the smart one in the family, that is, after your grandfather.”

“I take that as a compliment. Red was exceptional.”

“See you Saturday.” Hawke hung up, staring at the pool of sunlight warming his desk.

A picture of a no-nonsense woman with long blond hair and blue eyes materialized in his mind. The determination he’d glimpsed in her worried him. He wouldn’t put it past her to try to find someone else to take her into the canyon. The only other person capable of doing that was his uncle. Thankfully Gus lived halfway between here and the canyon, and he rarely came into town. Even if he did, Hawke wasn’t concerned Gus would agree to guide the professor into that maze of ravines and mesas. His uncle was a hermit and hated to be around people. Gus only tolerated Hawke for short periods of time because he took him his supplies every couple of months. But everything he’d learned about the land was from his uncle.

Tired, Hawke flattened his hands on his desktop and pushed himself to his feet. Even if she tried to find someone, she wouldn’t.

He headed toward the door and left the station before something came up to keep him there. Yes, he worked a lot of hours, but he knew when he needed to sleep. With long strides he covered the distance to his Jeep quickly and climbed inside.

As he pulled out of the parking space in front of the tribal police station, he peered both ways down the lengthy street that ran through the heart of the small town of San Angelo. His gaze lit upon a woman coming out of Anna’s café, and he braked. He watched Dr. Kit Sinclair stroll toward the red Honda parked in front.

Almost as though his arms and legs had a mind of their own, he made a U-turn and drove toward the café.




TWO


I’m doing my job by discovering what she’s up to. If she does something foolish, I’m the one who will have to clean up the mess.

Yeah, right, nothing else motivates you.

Hawke ignored that little voice in his head and came to a halt a few feet from her car. The woman he wished he could ban from the pueblo wheeled around, her eyes growing round as he slipped from his Jeep.

“I didn’t think I would see you again in San Angelo.” He hadn’t intended to fling a challenge in her face, but somehow his words came out that way.

She stiffened, a white-knuckled grip on her black purse straps. “I didn’t think I had to ask your permission.”

“What brings you out this way a second time?”

She pinched her lips together and opened her car door. “Nothing that concerns you. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to town.”

He observed her driving away and decided to do a little investigating. Striding to the café’s entrance, he knew if anyone could tell him why Kit was in town it would be Anna.

Inside, only a few tables held customers enjoying a late lunch. He scanned the large room and saw his cousin behind the counter, talking with Lester Running Bear, his long black hair hanging in a braid down his back. As Hawke moved toward Anna, the older man rose and turned toward him. A frown marred his craggy face.

“See ya, Anna.” Avoiding the direct path to the exit, his head down, Lester circumvented Hawke.

Hawke stopped at the long counter that ran the length of the café. “Has Lester been drinking? Is that why he’s dodging me?”

“He was sober.” Anna began wiping down the laminated top, her gaze averted.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Hawke settled onto a stool.

She stopped her cleaning and looked him directly in the eye. “Lester’s going to be Kit Sinclair’s guide to Desolation Canyon.”

He leaped to his feet and started for the door, then realized that the woman in question was probably halfway to the highway to Albuquerque. He came back to Anna. “Why didn’t you try to stop that?”

“Because I didn’t know until after she left. Lester was just telling me.”

“He can’t do that. He’s never sober long enough to show anyone anything.”

“Then I suggest you give her a call and tell her that.”

After the look she’d sent him out in the parking lot, he was sure that the second he identified himself she would slam down the phone. He would be in Albuquerque in two days for the dedication ceremony. He’d go see her then and make her listen to him. There was no way he would let Lester guide her anywhere.



Saturday evening Hawke rang Kit Sinclair’s bell. When no one answered, he pounded on the door. After a few minutes, he had to acknowledge she wasn’t home, which meant he would now have to make an extra trip into town to see her. Unless she was at the dedication tonight for the Collier/Somers Wing at the museum. She’d helped Zach with the exhibit, so hopefully Hawke would see her there and set her straight.

Leaving the porch, he headed toward his Jeep in the driveway. If she wasn’t at the museum, he would stop by on the way back to the pueblo. He didn’t intend to stay late at the ceremony, anyway.

“She’s already left,” said the distinguished-looking neighbor. Probably in his early forties, he held a hose, watering his plants, most of them cacti, along the border of his property with Kit’s.

“Do you know if she’ll be back soon?” He could be a little late to Zach’s if it would save him a trip into Albuquerque another day.

The man removed his hat, revealing thick, wavy blond hair. “I don’t think so. She said something about a function at the college. I can tell her you came by, Mr….”

Hawke took the man’s outstretched hand and shook it. “Hawke Lonechief. I don’t think that’ll be necessary. We’re going to the same function. I’ll catch her there.” At least, he hoped they were, and he could put an end to the woman’s pipe dream once and for all. He definitely was going to have a word with Zach about putting such a foolish idea into Kit’s head.

Since his cousin lived across town from Kit’s, Hawke had some time to plot his strategy. He really had no way of stopping anyone from going into that maze of canyons if that person was determined—like Kit—but he was sure going to try with her. He wondered if she even owned a pair of hiking boots. She had amateur written all over her face. Even if he hadn’t known exactly the hazards of the tangle of sheer cliffs, pockmarked land, treacherous escarpments that led to Desolation, not to mention the dangers in the canyon itself, he still would have discouraged her.

He wished he’d discouraged Pamela. But his wife had wanted an adventure—something risky and challenging. And he’d agreed, wanting to please her after the fight they’d had about living in New York City.

If only he had remembered what Gus had said about the canyon, with its blood-red walls when the sunlight struck it just right. If only—

Hawke shoved the thought from his mind, along with the vision of his wife the last moment he’d seen her alive. Her smile would haunt him forever. As would her scream as she plunged down to the bottom of the jagged, rocky ravine below.

Twenty minutes later he pulled in front of Zach’s house and noticed the red Honda sitting in the driveway. For a few seconds he considered leaving and grabbing dinner somewhere else before the ceremony. But he’d never run from a problem before, and this would be a good time to have that little conversation with the good professor.

His long strides quickly chewed up the space between his Jeep and the porch. When Zach opened the front door to his knock, Hawke entered, surveying the entry hall and spacious room off to the side.

“Where is she?” Hawke asked, stopping in the middle of the living area.

“Who?”

Amusement flickered in Zach’s eyes, producing a swell of anger in Hawke. “You know good and well who I’m talking about. Kit Sinclair.”

“I’m right here.”

The voice, husky for a woman, sounded behind him. Hawke pivoted toward her. She stood just inside the living room with a brown leather couch between them. “We need to talk about Lester Running Bear.”

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Zach hurried toward the French doors that led out onto the deck.

“No, we don’t,” Kit said when the click of the door closing announced they were by themselves. “Lester has agreed to be my guide. You wouldn’t, so it’s none of your business.”

“It’s my business when you’re engaging a man who is rarely sober for longer than a day and can’t find his way out of a building with a well-lit exit sign.”

Blinking, she looked away. When she reestablished eye contact with him, her neutral expression hid her earlier surprise. “You gave up that right when you turned me down.”

“Have you talked to Lester today?”

“What have you done?” She covered the few feet to the sofa and grasped its back.

“Convinced him not to take you.”

Glaring at him, Kit opened her mouth but snapped it closed before saying anything. She sucked in a soothing breath. “Do you make it a practice to interfere with someone’s life like that?”

“Yes, when that someone ignores my advice.” He circled behind the sofa and stopped just two feet short of her.

Kit plastered herself against the back of the couch, her gaze flittering from one side of him to the other. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m going to that canyon with or without your help.”

“Lady, there is no one else, so make it easy on yourself and give the idea up.”

“You mean make it easy on you.” Lifting her chin, she stabbed him with a withering look. “I’ll find someone else, and if not, then I’ll go by myself.”

“Then I’ll arrest you.”

“On what grounds?”

“Jaywalking. I’ll come up with something.”

“I don’t know what happened to your wife in Desolation Canyon, but I am not her.”

He closed the space between them. Hissing in a breath, Kit went rigid, leaning back so far she could easily topple over the sofa with the slightest movement. Through clenched teeth, he muttered, “Don’t you ever bring my wife up again.”

Her chin went up another notch. “Oh, I see. It’s okay if you play unfair, but not me.”

He thrust his face close to hers. Panic flared in her eyes, but he didn’t back down. Too much was at stake. “This isn’t a game. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

She brought her hands up and fisted them against his chest, then shoved him back a few feet. Scurrying to the side, she rounded the couch. “I’m very aware of the stakes. My career is on the line.”

“So you would risk your life for your career?”

“Life is a risk.” She shrugged, all the earlier tension evaporating. “What if you and Zach hadn’t taken a chance last year? You all would never have found the Aztec codices. He can write his own ticket anywhere now because of that discovery.”

Her words threw him back four years to his last argument with Pamela. She’d practically said that very same thing to him. She’d wanted him to take a big corporate fraud case that he’d wanted nothing to do with. In fact, he’d brought her to New Mexico in the hopes of convincing her to relocate here. If they had stayed in New York, she would be alive today. He would have to live with that the rest of his life.

“This isn’t about Zach or me. It’s about you.” Balling his hands at his sides, he fought to keep his temper in check, but it boiled in his stomach.

“You are not my keeper. My work is very important to me, but I assure you I won’t take unnecessary risks.”

There was nothing reassuring about what she said. His gut twisted into a huge knot. “Do you even know what an unnecessary risk is?”

“I’m a highly educated woman. I’ve lived in New Mexico for half my life.” She pulled herself up tall.

“So you’ve hiked in places like Desolation Canyon?”

“Well, not exactly. If I had, I wouldn’t need you.”

Need you. Those words stuck terror into his heart. “Where have you hiked?”

“In Chaco, Mesa Verde.”

He choked back a laugh. “I can see you are prepared.”

Her glare returned. “I’ll do what it takes to be prepared. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m suddenly not hungry. I’m sure you can explain to Zach and Maggie why I left early.”

The slamming of the front door echoed through Zach’s house and brought his cousin inside.

“Obviously, the discussion didn’t go as I had planned.”

Hawke rounded on Zach. “What did you think I was going to do? I don’t back down. You know that.”

“You do when you’re wrong.”

“You think I am?”

“The information she has gathered is good. There just might be a Lost City of Gold out there or some other significant archaeological find.”

“Then you take her.”

“I would if I knew the area like you and hadn’t already committed to an expedition this summer. Besides, I’m not a real archaeologist.”

“You’re the best amateur I’ve seen. And don’t forget you’re used to fieldwork as an anthropologist.”

“This is probably a piece of cake after our adventure last year. At least there are no people trying to kill her and get the information she has.”

“If she keeps going around telling people about it, there will be.” Hawke curled his hands into fists, remembering vividly how close he, Zach and Maggie had come to dying last year. He’d never been concerned about his own life, just his cousin’s and Maggie’s.

“She’s smart. She knows when to keep her mouth shut.”

“What’s for dinner? I’m starved.”

Chuckling, Zach threw his arms up in the air. “I won’t mention it again—tonight. Let’s go eat.”



Kit stormed up to her porch and plopped down on the glider where she always liked to sit and work out her problems. The Guardian had been surprised when his GPS tracking device he’d planted under her car had indicated she was returning home. She hadn’t been gone long.

Even in the dimming light, he could see her face clearly through the binoculars. Someone had made her angry. Who? The man who had come to her house earlier that evening. He’d left clearly displeased. Had he found Kit? Had he upset her?

He would have to find out what was going on with her. He didn’t like her unhappy. Whatever it was, he could fix it. Although it was getting harder, years ago he had made it his purpose in life to protect her and give her what she needed. After all, he owed her.

It was a shame, though; sometimes she didn’t know what was best for her.

But that’s why I’m here.



The following week the door to Hawke’s office crashed open. Kit filled the entrance in all her anger. She stormed toward him as if a tornado swept through the station and planted her fists on his desk, leaning across it.

“What gives you the right to ruin my life?”

He met her fury with calm, folding his hands on his calendar blotter with his fingers interlaced. “I thought we had this little discussion last Saturday at Zach’s.”

“This isn’t about Lester.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“I hired James Harrison to be my guide, and now he has disappeared. No one has seen him. What did you do to make him leave town?”

“Who is James Harrison? I don’t know anyone by that name at Santa Maria Pueblo.”

“After Lester, I got smart. I looked elsewhere for my guide. So how did you find out about Mr. Harrison? I didn’t even say anything to Zach in case he let it slip to you.”

“Where in the world did you find this Harrison?”

She straightened, waving her hand in the air. “That’s not important. He lives in the area.”

“He does? At the pueblo?”

“Well, no. Albuquerque. He assured me he knew what he was doing. He had references.”

“Ah, references are important.” Why hadn’t he noticed how cute she was when she was angry? Her full lips formed a perfect little pout, and her eyes sparked with blue fire. But she was definitely trouble. He had to remember that.

“They are. He’s led several groups through various canyons in the state.”

“Any to Desolation Canyon?”

“No, but isn’t one canyon like another?”

“No, not at all.” Hawke lounged back in his comfortably padded chair. The day had turned interesting after a rather dull start. “And if you have to ask me that, then you have no business going in there.”

“You’re just saying that to keep me away.” She sank into the seat across from his desk.

“To put your mind at rest, I did not say anything to Harrison because I didn’t know about him.” His elbows on the arms of his chair, he steepled his fingers. “Contrary to what you may be thinking, I’ve not been following you around to see who you’ll contact next. I’ll tell you, however, that I’ve let it be known I wouldn’t be too happy if someone from the pueblo was your guide.”

“I don’t give up easily, especially now.” Her eyes narrowed.

He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he did. “Especially now?”

“I discovered some more collaborating evidence that I’m on the right track.”

“What?”

“Zach gave me a piece of advice I think I’ll take. Trust no one.”

Hawke laughed. “That sounds like my cousin. And in this situation I have to agree. Although I don’t think there’s a City of Gold out there, just the mere mention of the word gold makes men do crazy things.”

“That’s it.” She leaped from the chair, her features red with anger. “You’re going after it without me.” She stretched her upper body across his desk as if she were coming at him. “You won’t find it without my information.”

“Aren’t you forgetting that I’m the one who discovered the ruins of the mission? Do you know where they are?”

She settled back, a scowl slashing across her face. “In Desolation Canyon.”

“It covers a lot of ground. Give it up, Dr. Sinclair. You have no business going there. You’re out of shape and in no condition to make the trek.” After picking up the folder closest to him, he flipped it open. “You may have time to travel all the way here on a whim, but I have work to do and don’t have any more time to chitchat.”

Kit wanted to bang her hands on the desk to get his attention as he perused the papers in the folder. His nonchalant bearing conveyed he had not a care in the world. She wouldn’t bang his desk, but she would find a way around the man. He blocked her path to what she wanted. She’d found James Harrison, so she would come up with another escort, and this time she wouldn’t say anything to anyone, not even her neighbor who was her sounding board.

After a few seconds of staring at the top of his head, she gathered her composure, calm beginning to seep back into her. “Thank you, Mr. Lonechief.”

Outside in the bright, cloudless day, she examined the small town of San Angelo. Only twenty miles to the north lay the start of the canyon system that led to the place she wanted to go. She’d worked too hard on this theory to back down. She didn’t want the gold; she wanted the credit. She had to publish something this year if she was to stay on the faculty at Albuquerque City College and get her tenure. The history department chairperson had made that clear to her, especially in the wake of budget cuts. Her job was all she had now. Yes, she had friends, family and the Lord, but she needed something to do to keep the past at bay, to keep her mind focused forward.



Later that day Kit stared down at the chart showing one-third of New Mexico. “Samuel, I could hug you! This is just what I needed. Where did you get such a detailed map of the area I’m interested in? I’ve never seen one like this.”

“From the archaeology archives.”

“I’ve seen some of their maps, but nothing like this.”

He bent toward her and whispered, “These aren’t common knowledge and are usually kept under lock and key on the top floor of the library. Even what they are cataloged under doesn’t tell anyone much. You see where all the Indian ruins are marked. They don’t want people thinking they can go dig them up.”

“I know that. Zach told me they keep most of the discovered ruins as is, not excavated. To disturb them would cause more damage and lost knowledge. This will really help.”

“Have you found a guide yet?”

“I’m working on it. I’ve got a lead. No one as skilled as Zach Collier’s cousin, but this map will help make up for the fact I can’t get him.”

“I need to get it back upstairs. I’ll make a copy of it. Just wait right here.” Samuel took the map and turned toward the back room behind the counter.

Kit stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You won’t get into trouble for bringing the map down here, will you?”

He smiled. “Jessica, who runs that floor, owes me a favor. She knows I have it, but I promised I would bring it back by four, that all I needed to do was check a reference for one of the professors in the archaeology department.”

Her hand slipping from his arm, she watched Samuel rush away. She certainly wouldn’t be excavating any ruins that had already been discovered, since what she was looking for hadn’t been unearthed. Besides, she wasn’t an archaeologist. When she found the City of Gold, she would leave that part to the experts.

“It’s in there.” When Samuel came back, he handed her a large manila envelope. “I had to copy it in sections because of its size.”

She took it, so thankful for his assistance. “I’m going to give you that hug.” She quickly did. “Thanks again. I’ve got someone I have to meet upstairs. See you,” she said, then hurried toward the steps that led to the third floor.

On the staircase she passed Wes carrying a couple of large volumes. When he came to a stop, she did, too.

“I’m beginning to think you live here,” he said with a nervous laugh.

“I’ve been working on a paper for the American Historical Society magazine.” Which was true because she intended to publish her article in it.

“Ah, our publish-or-perish requirement. I’ve been contemplating what I’ll write about. If you’ve got time later, I would like to discuss it with you.”

“You aren’t worried I’ll steal your idea?”

“Not you.” Appreciation glinted in his eyes. “You’re the most ethical person I know. Besides, it sounds like you’ve got yours well under control. Will you be in your office later?”

“No, I’m going home in a few minutes. Come by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow it is.” Wes continued his descent to the second floor.

Kit watched him for a few seconds before mounting the steps. She had a meeting with another guide prospect in the back part of the library. Not many people frequented that area, especially during the day. She felt like a spy, setting up a rendezvous, having to consider where she could go without being unduly noticed. Since she was often at the library, no one would think that was strange. Having Ronald Hoffman come to her office was out of the question. The same for her house. So this was it, because she was determined no one would know whom she had hired this time.

A tall, thin man removed a book from a shelf and flipped through it before putting it back. He took another one down.

After scanning the area for anyone else, she hastened forward. “Are you Mr. Hoffman?”

He looked toward her. “Yes. Dr. Sinclair?”

She nodded.

“Did you bring the deposit?”

She rummaged in her purse until she found the envelope with the money in it. “You’ll get twice that when we complete the trip.”

He counted the bills. “I don’t know why you want to go there, but I’ll take you for the agreed-upon amount. From what I’ve heard, it won’t be easy.” His pinpoint gaze skimmed down her length. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Of course. Are you sure you know how to get to Desolation Canyon?”

“Of course. As I told you earlier on the phone, I haven’t been there personally, but I know where it is, and that type of terrain is something I’m used to.”

“When can we leave?” She hugged the manila envelope to her chest. If he didn’t know how to get there, she could figure it out with this detailed map.

“You said something about this Saturday. I can go then.” He presented her with a list of supplies. “You’ll need to bring these.”

“Where do we meet?”

“At Black Horse Pass at seven in the morning. It’ll probably take at least five days.” He moved past her toward the exit.

“Thank you,” she said, but the man had already disappeared around the corner.

Suddenly her legs gave away. She sagged to the floor. What had she set in motion? Ronald Hoffman’s credentials had checked out. He’d used to work for an adventure group who had taken people on trips into the wilderness around New Mexico and the surrounding states. If she couldn’t have Hawke Lonechief, he was the next best thing.



Kit finished loading her red Honda. The darkness of predawn had lightened to a dim gray, but the sun was still hidden below the eastern horizon. Excitement surged through her at the idea she would be hiking toward Desolation Canyon in a couple of hours.

Marcus Perry, dressed in his navy-blue jogging shorts and white T-shirt, came out onto his porch. She waved at her neighbor and friend. He loped toward her while pulling neon-orange sweatbands on his wrists. From the curious gleam in his eyes, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get away without telling him something.

He glanced into her backseat. “Going camping in a certain canyon?”

“I hope. But don’t say anything to anyone. You know what happened to the last guide I had.”

“So Hawke Lonechief finally agreed.”

“No. He still refuses, but this person should be good.”

“Who’d you get this time?” Marcus began some limbering-up exercises.

“Ronald Hoffman.” Even if Marcus ran into his house right now—which she didn’t see her friend doing—it was too late for Hawke to interfere. “He was in the news a few weeks ago. He found that family missing in the Carson National Forest.”

“Yeah, I remember reading about him. But the big question is, does he know where you want to go?” Marcus touched his toes.

“He hasn’t actually been there, but he’s very experienced at being a guide.”

“Did I tell you I met him last Saturday night?”

“Who? Ronald?”

“No, Lonechief.” He lunged to each side. “Can’t be too careful.”

“I agree. That’s why I checked this Ronald out and no one knows about what I’m doing today.”

“Well, except me. But I wasn’t talking about your guide. I was talking about exercising. It’s so easy to pull a muscle, especially if you don’t limber up correctly.” He jogged in place. “I think I’m finally loosened up to start my run.”

“That’s good, but what do you mean you saw Lonechief Saturday night? Did you go to the dedication ceremony?”

“No, he came by here looking for you.”

“He did?”

“I caught him pounding on your front door, not too happy you weren’t home.”

A picture of Hawke frustrated as he stalked back to his Jeep darted through her mind. Good! It served him right for scaring off her other guides. What if at this very moment he was hiking to the canyon to see if what she theorized was true? Now that she thought about it, just because he was Zach’s cousin didn’t mean she could trust him.

Trust No One. That needed to be her new motto.

“I’d better go. I don’t want to be late.”

“Before you start hiking, make sure you limber up. I don’t want you to pull a muscle out there.” Marcus bent forward and kissed her on the cheek.

She slid into her front seat and waved at her friend as he jogged down the street. When she backed out of her driveway, she couldn’t stop the feeling of urgency that overcame her. She navigated her car toward the highway that led out of town.

Gold will make men do crazy things. Hawke’s words blared through her mind as she drove toward Black Horse Pass. Was Hawke one of those men who did crazy things because of money? When she really thought about everything, what did she know about Zach, who had recommended Hawke in the first place? Her past record where men were concerned wasn’t good. She’d had several serious relationships over the years. None spoke well of her ability to choose a man to spend the rest of her life with, especially the last two.

The man she’d been serious with before Gregory only reinforced her conviction to stay away from serious relationships. Terry’s reckless driving while under the influence had caused a wreck that had injured a couple. This from a man who had condemned drinking of any kind. He had known how much she hated alcohol and why. What else had he been lying about? Certainly his protestations that he’d only had one drink at the bar. His blood alcohol had been way over the legal limit.

She’d hoped they would eventually marry. What if she had and discovered Terry’s problem afterward? She didn’t have an answer to that question. Her parents had divorced, and she had promised herself she wouldn’t.

Up ahead she saw the sign to Black Horse Pass. She turned off the highway onto the one-lane, washboard, dirt road. Slowing her speed drastically, she bounced along the stretch that led to her meeting place with Ronald Hoffman. Everything was in place. Part of the following week at school was for studying before finals—no classes. Exams didn’t start until next Thursday. She should be back in time to give the tests to her classes. Perfect timing.

The sun sat on the horizon, a big yellow-orange ball. Streaks of red and purple threaded through the cloudless azure-blue sky. It was going to be hot today. She patted her canteen next to her on the seat. Granted she didn’t know a whole lot about hiking in desertlike conditions, but she did know about the importance of water and had brought a lot of extra, besides what was in the canteen.

She pulled into a makeshift parking lot near a grouping of piñon trees at the end of the road. Climbing from her five-year-old Honda, she stroked its hood.

“You got me here, although I doubt you appreciated me coming down that road.”

She made a full circle, taking in the landscape. Behind her was the long dirt road. Ahead were towering mesas, the sun burning a path up their facade and turning the rock a yellow orange as though it was made of gold. Through the sheer cliffs wound a narrow trail, dotted with cacti, brush and juniper and piñon trees. Already the nippy bite of a desert night had evaporated, leaving behind the heat of a desert day.

Hearing a screech, she observed the flight of a bald eagle, hunting for its next meal. It caught an air current and soared, disappearing behind a bluff. She hadn’t done something like this in years, but as a child she had enjoyed the family hikes—until her parents had gotten a divorce.

She wasn’t alone. The Lord was with her.

You created this beauty, Lord. Awesome. Magnificent. Give me the strength and ability to make it to Desolation Canyon. I need to know that I’m capable of doing this. Please show me, Lord. In Jesus Christ’s name. Amen.

Lounging against the back of her car, she folded her arms across her chest and waited, her gaze trained on the road. She checked her watch. Ten minutes after seven.

She wasn’t too worried. There were some places where the road had practically washed away from some of the recent spring rains. Ronald had probably not planned for that.

But when Kit glanced at the time an hour later, she could no longer come up with an excuse why Ronald wasn’t at the pass. And she had given him some of the money ahead of time. No matter how much she told herself not to trust people, here she’d gone and put her belief in this man. When was she going to learn?

She stomped to her passenger door and opened it. Grabbing the canteen, she took a swig of cool water to ease her dry throat. Her gaze caught sight of the manila envelope with pages of the detailed map in it. When she slid it out, she examined the area around Black Horse Pass. It didn’t look too tough to negotiate.

After buying her equipment and coming out here, she could go a little ways and see what the trail was like. There shouldn’t be any harm in doing that.

“Who knows? I might even be pretty good at hiking. I did okay once,” she muttered and opened her back door to get her pack and walking stick.

She would go for an hour or so, then return to her car. She would find someone else to take her to the canyon, so she might as well start building up her stamina.

When she heaved the bag and slipped her arms through the straps, she swayed and began to have her doubts. She’d forgotten it must weigh nearly forty pounds with all the water she’d brought. Lifting weights might have been a good idea, and something she would consider when she got back. After refilling her canteen with water, she left all but one jug on the backseat so her backpack wouldn’t be so heavy.

She found the trailhead and started along the narrow path that led through the pass into a broad expanse of canyons, cliffs and mesas. The sun intensified, beating down on her. Sweat broke out on her forehead after only fifteen minutes. She paused and took another drink of water.

An hour and a half later, enthralled with the vista, Kit collapsed on a medium-size boulder that had slid down the side of a cliff. She shucked off her backpack and dropped it to the ground next to the rock. She would head back to the car after she rested a while. Using the white sleeve of her shirt, she wiped the sweat from her face, then her neck.

When she reached for her bag to get a cloth to use, she froze. Slithering from the underside of the boulder was a rattlesnake, followed by several more.




THREE


Kit hasn’t come home. She was supposed to come back here. She’s out there without a guide. She can’t go to Desolation Canyon without the best there is.

The Guardian paced from one end of the room to the other, kneading his hand along his nape. All kinds of horrible scenarios flashed through his mind. Lost and wandering around in circles. Collapsing from dehydration. Her body broken on the rocks after a fall.

Why hadn’t she come back when Hoffman didn’t show up? How am I supposed to watch over her when she does things like go off by herself? One day I need to teach her a lesson.

Frustration churned his stomach. But not today.

He’d gone to some trouble to take care of Hoffman, the least she could do was cooperate and return to Albuquerque. He didn’t want her to go to the canyon without the best, and he’d checked out Hoffman. He wasn’t the best. His job as her guardian was becoming harder and harder. At least the tracking device on her car and the bug in her house helped him keep up with all her activities.

She should appreciate the trouble he had to go to for her. One day she would. He withdrew from his pocket his untraceable cell to put in motion yet another rescue, suppressing the anger building in him.



As Hawke pulled onto the road that led to his ranch, his cell rang. He slowed and flipped it open. “Lonechief.”

“I’m so glad I got hold of you. Kit went to Desolation Canyon by herself this morning and hasn’t returned home yet.”

Zach’s frantic tone infected Hawke with the seriousness of the situation. He glanced out of the windshield to the west, and his fear mushroomed. The sun had begun its descent. “Does the woman have a death wish?” His grip on his phone tightened until he was afraid he would snap it into halves.

“From what I understand she had arranged for a guide to meet her at Black Horse Pass. He didn’t show up because he was in a wreck on his way there. There was a message on her machine at her office from one of Ronald Hoffman’s associates.”

“That doesn’t mean she went in by herself.”

“She never came by her office to hear the message, and she isn’t at her house, either. I hate to say this, but she probably got frustrated enough that she attempted it on her own. She can’t seem to find a reliable guide.”

The censure in Zach’s voice hit its mark. Hawke made a U-turn and headed toward the highway and Black Horse Pass. “I’m on my way to see. Hopefully she decided to go off and do something tame like researching in a book.”

“Normally I would say that Kit is a very tame person, but for some reason she has become driven with proving herself right.”

“Have you tried calling her cell?”

“For the past hour. No answer. Which doesn’t surprise me if she decided to hike into the area on her own. From here I can’t get there as fast as you can. Besides, you know that part of the country better than me.”

Again Hawke peered toward the west. “I won’t be there much before dusk myself.”

“That’s better than pitch-black.”

“How’d you find out about this guide?”

“Her neighbor is beside himself and he called me. The police came by to see Kit concerning the guide.”

“The police! What’s going on?” Somehow Hawke managed to keep his fear for Kit from his voice, but not his worry.

“They came by to see Kit because the guide’s office told them he was supposed to meet her at Black Horse Pass.”

“But why are the police involved?”

“Because Hoffman’s car accident wasn’t an accident. He was forced off the highway. He was found in a ravine off the road. Someone called the highway patrol and said he witnessed it early this morning.”

“Did this someone leave a name?” Hawke gripped his cell, pain shooting down his arm.

“No. He doesn’t want to get involved.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Any description of the car that forced Hoffman off the highway?”

“A white truck. Nothing else.”

“I’ll call you when I know something.”

“Thanks. She’s been a big help to me this year. I don’t want anything happening to her.”

Neither do I. Hawke switched off his cell and pressed his foot on the accelerator. Time was against him.

An hour later, the sun halfway to the horizon, Hawke scrambled from his Jeep, parked next to the only other car at the end of the road near Black Horse Pass. Kit’s red Honda screamed to the world she had gone into the maze of canyons by herself. When he got his hands on her, she wouldn’t be too happy, and before he was finished, she would understand how dangerous her little stunt was.

He grabbed a heavy-duty flashlight and a canteen with water from his vehicle and started along the trail through the pass. Fresh indentions in the dirt indicated someone had passed through not long before. Someone with small feet. At least she was wearing hiking boots. He’d envisioned her in tennis shoes trying to negotiate the uneven, often pebbly ground.

As he went farther along the path, the sun disappeared behind the tall mesas. He passed evidence of a new rockslide in the shadow of a bluff. With his flashlight, he checked to make sure she wasn’t pinned beneath a large stone.

With the ticking off of the minutes, his heart hammered a shade faster. Heat, captured in the sandy dirt, floated upward to encircle him. Sweat coated his face and chest, his tan shirt soaked.

Visions of Kit, hurt, possibly dead, haunted him with each step he took. Scenes from his past threatened to intrude, bringing with them the pain he usually kept suppressed. It had been four years ago that he had come this way. He had promised himself never again. And now, because of Kit Sinclair, he was breaking that promise. He thrust his memories away, determined to focus on his anger at her foolish actions.

When he rounded the base of a sheer cliff, he saw her, off to the right in the dying daylight—or at least he thought it was her—lying crumpled on a boulder, not moving. His anger fled, to be replaced with the terror of four years ago all over again. He stumbled, nearly going to his knees. He couldn’t carry a second body out of here.

Although it was cooling, now that the sun was behind the mesa to the west, sweat broke out on his forehead as he rushed toward her. A couple of yards from the boulder a rattling sound sent out a warning. He went still, checking his surroundings as he carefully slipped his revolver from its holster.

A six-foot rattlesnake, coiled, lay a few feet to the left of the large stone. His gaze glued to the rattler, he moved in slow motion, lifting the gun to aim.

“Don’t.” Kit’s husky voice pierced the air.

He glanced at her, then back at the reptile. “What do you mean, don’t?”

“Don’t kill it. It’s only protecting its home, which I think is under the rock I’m sitting on.”

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“I don’t know. I was waiting for it to go away like the other ones.”

“Others! Where did they go?” Hawke scanned the area quickly then fastened his gaze back on the rattler.

“Back under this rock.”

“A nest?” Darkness crept closer. Soon he wouldn’t be able to see well enough to shoot the snake.

“Maybe. The others were smaller.”

With his breath held, he raised the gun, aimed and squeezed the trigger, all in one fluid movement, hitting the reptile, which was poised to strike.

“C’mon. Now, Kit. Move it. I’ve got you covered.”

She struggled to stand on the boulder, then leaped to the ground a few feet from him. Red scored her cheeks. She tried to steady herself as she landed, but instead stumbled. He caught her, shoving her behind him.

Although dusk eroded the daylight, he inspected the ground around the huge rock for any signs of more rattlers. Relief sighed from his lips when he saw nothing.

“Let’s get out of here.” With one eye on the boulder, he turned toward her.

“My backpack is over there with my water.” She gestured to the dirt not far from the massive stone she’d sat on.

“Too dangerous if more snakes are under that rock. We’re leaving it.”

“But my water! I haven’t had anything to drink in hours.”

He unhooked his canteen and thrust it into her hands. “Drink while you walk.”

He didn’t turn his back on the area until he was around the bend. Although the urge was strong, he would wait until they made it to their vehicles before giving her a piece of his mind.

Once they were ensconced beneath the towering cliffs on either side, night fully descended, and Hawke flicked on the flashlight.

“Walk behind me. Step where I step.” His command charged the air with his controlled terseness.

Although Kit couldn’t read his expression, she didn’t have to see it to know anger marked his every feature. “I only sat down on the rock to rest before heading back to the car. I didn’t know I was going to disturb a family of rattlesnakes. Believe me, if I had—”

“You may think this is the time to have a little chitchat, but I don’t.”

“But how did you know about me—”

“Kit, in case you haven’t figured it out, walking around out here during the day, let alone at night, isn’t always the safest thing to do. We’ll talk later. You wouldn’t want me to tell you what I think at the moment.” He took her hand and settled it on his shoulder, then set out again down the path.

Cold darkness closed in around Kit as she gripped Hawke and followed in his footsteps. His flashlight illuminated only the small space in front of him. Her imagination ran rampant with what might lie beyond the inky shroud surrounding them.

After her unfortunate encounter with the rattlers, she pictured them poised ready to strike at any second along the path. Her legs tingled, vying with the patches of burned skin she hadn’t managed to shade from the sun. Funny how a few hours ago she had been hot. Now she was chilled.

Exhausted, dehydrated, her head pounding against her skull, she put one foot in front of the other. If she had known what was going to happen, of course, she would never have hiked away from her car. At least while sitting on that rock, waiting for the snakes to slither away, she’d had time to think about this whole situation. She had to convince Hawke Lonechief to help her…somehow.

Then suddenly, in the midst of her fear and weariness, a thought took hold. She had to turn this over to the Lord. He would make it possible if it was meant to be. One of the hardest things she’d had to learn—was still learning—was to give control over to Him.

A movement to the left made Kit gasp and jump to the right. “What’s that?”

“Any number of animals.” Concealed in shadows, Hawke came to a stop and swung around toward her. “Probably a rabbit.”

“A rabbit I can handle.” She relaxed her rigid stance.

“Running from a predator.”

“Predator!” she squeaked.

“You sound worried now.”

Although she knew he couldn’t see her expression, she scrunched her mouth into a tight line of displeasure. “And you sound smug.”

“I guess some good came from this. Now you know what can happen if you go off by yourself.”

She had to convince him she was still serious about going to Desolation Canyon—with or without a guide. Otherwise she didn’t have a chance of convincing him to help her. The only good thing she saw from today’s incident was that Hawke had come after her. That gave her hope.

“Yes, you’re right.” She nearly choked on those words as she stepped closer to him. “I had a little dress rehearsal of what could happen if I’m not better prepared. I have learned a valuable lesson. Next time I’ll be better prepared.”

“Next time!” He snorted and spun around forward, shining the light down the path.

In the glow she saw him shake his head. “You didn’t think I was going to give up my plan, now, did you?” She infused just a touch of mockery into her question. “You obviously don’t know much about me.”

When she settled her hand on his shoulder as he continued toward the road, his muscles beneath her fingers bunched up. He didn’t say a word for a good ten minutes. She didn’t like the idea of being this close to him, either, but one bad move in a day was her limit.

He halted abruptly, pivoted toward her and pointed the flashlight at the small space between them. An eerie radiance cloaked his harsh features. Anger vibrated off him.

“Make me understand why this trip is so important to you that you’re willing to risk your life for some myth.”

His clipped statement rivaled the nip in the air. Shivering, she hugged her arms to her chest. “It’s getting cold and this isn’t the place to have that conversation. Remember?” She could still imagine that rattlesnake’s mate stalking her escape.

“Fine. Let’s go. We’re almost to your car, then we can have that conversation.”

Not out here, if she had anything to say about it. She trudged behind him. Although the clouds raced across the face of the moon, for a brief few moments its rays bathed the end of the road, revealing his Jeep parked behind her car.

A sigh escaped her. She’d made it back safely. She’d had her doubts a couple of hours ago when a crispness set in as the sun began its descent in the sky. Trapped, thirsty, with water within arm’s reach but unattainable, she’d curled up on the flat part of the boulder to retain what heat she had while she’d prayed for the rattlers to get tired and leave.

Heat. She needed heat. At the beginning of Black Horse Pass she hurried forward, relieved that her keys were in her pocket, not her backpack. After digging them out, she unlocked her door and dived inside, trembling as she tried to start her car.

Nothing.

How could this be happening? With her teeth chattering, she tried again.

“What’s wrong?” Hawke appeared in her open door, bending down to look inside.

“I don’t know. It won’t start.”

“Here. Let me try.”

Kit clambered from the driver’s seat, and Hawke climbed in behind the steering wheel. He turned the key, then glanced down at the lighted dashboard.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. You don’t have any gas.”

“Sure I do. That can’t be it.” She stretched in front of him to stare at the empty gas gauge in shock. “I filled up a few days ago and haven’t driven much. I don’t understand.” He was too close; she quickly jerked back.

Removing the keys, he handed them to her, then pushed to his feet and slammed the door. “Well, there isn’t much we can do tonight. I’ll drive you back. You can see about your car tomorrow. It certainly isn’t going anywhere.”

Still stunned, she stood by her Honda, watching him stride toward his Jeep. He settled himself behind his steering wheel, the interior light shining down on him. His vehicle beckoned with warmth and a way home.

She proceeded forward, paused and glanced back. I should have had at least a third of a tank of gas. Yes, she had been focused on going into the canyon, so maybe she hadn’t had as much as she thought. Had she been so preoccupied that—She shook that thought from her head and continued toward Hawke’s Jeep.





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