A touch of love (28 page)

The sincerity of his expression was unmistakable, and Aubrey's emotions took an uncomfortable slide from jealousy to guilt. "Perhaps I don't," she replied, now believing her fears might have colored her perceptions. "Were you able to speak with Detective Heffley?"

Jesse took note of Aubrey's abrupt change of topic, and feared he had merely embarrassed rather than reassured her. "Yes, I did, and things are looking good. The DA has offered immunity in exchange for information on the Ferrell family and it looks as though Gilroy is going to take the deal. Apparently he's already served time for armed robbery and assault. With the new 'three stikes' law, he's looking at life for taking a shot at you."

"So he has nothing to lose?"

"Not a thing."

Although she had hated feeling like bait, at that moment, Aubrey could not help but think of herself dressed as a wedge of cheese. "If you finally get justice for the Ferrells, then the risks will all have been worth it."

"This was a team effort," Jesse insisted. "Come on. There's an ice cream parlor just ahead. Let's order hot fudge sundaes and celebrate."

Aubrey preferred non-fat yogurt to ice cream, but at that moment, a hot fudge sundae sounded divine. No longer caring about long-legged blondes, she looped her arm through Jesse's. 'Terrific. Lead the way."

Once the good news about John Gilroy had lightened Aubrey's mood, she felt far more relaxed. She enjoyed every minute of sightseeing, and while she saw several magnificent paintings, she bought only gifts of sterling silver jewelry to take home to her assistants. It was nearly dusk when they started back toward the ranch, and she was tired but content. She raised a hand to cover a wide yawn.

"Perhaps it's the fresh air, but I'm already sleepy."

"Unlike Los Angeles, the air is too clean to see here, but I'd like to apologize for whatever part I had in causing your fatigue."

Aubrey knew he wasn't just talking about their extended walk through town, and smiled to herself. It was a shame they couldn't begin every day making love, but at least for this week they could. She reached over to squeeze his thigh and looked forward to caressing his bare skin later that night.

Jesse began to swear the instant he caught sight of the Jeep Cherokee parked in his driveway. "That's Dory's jeep, and I sure as hell didn't invite her here. Give me a minute to get rid of her, and we'll have the kind of night I'd planned."

"Sure. I'll wander out back and see if I can find Lucky."

As she grabbed her door handle, Jesse reached out to stop her. "You needn't hide. I don't enjoy Dory's company any more than you enjoy Larry's."

Aubrey's breath caught in her throat, making it difficult to form the question that had to be asked. "She's not your ex-wife, is she?"

Jesse howled. "Please. I've got a lot more sense than that.

Dory's the kind who'll wrap her legs around a barstool, or anything else that's handy. Find Lucky if you like, but I won't need more than a minute or two to send Dory on her way."

When he leaned over to kiss her, Aubrey responded easily to his affection, but as she walked around the corner of the house, she still thought there was a very real possibility Jesse was merely shielding her feelings rather than telling the truth. Dory Pruitt looked as though she had stepped right off the pages of Playboy. Clearly she worked at being a male fantasy come to life, and Jesse was a man who craved all types of excitement. Would he really sidestep her kind?

Not wishing to pursue the thought, Aubrey paused to enjoy a carefully designed rock garden planted with a splendid variety of cactus, then rounded the house. The bunkhouse was off to her left, south of the house. A barn stood straight ahead, flanked by a corral where half a dozen horses appeared to be dozing in the late afternoon sun. A man with jet-black hair tied at his nape was leaning against the corral. He wore Levi's, an aqua Western shirt, and a straw hat pulled low to shade his eyes. Lucky was seated beside him, and Dory Pruitt—her hands shoved in her hip pockets, and her ample breasts thrust forward— was talking with him.

Aubrey assumed the man must be Fernando Pena, Lupe's husband. Having no desire to introduce herself to Dory, Aubrey was about to retreat to the cactus garden when Lucky caught sight of her and came bounding her way. Trapped where she stood, she bent down to hug the dog. He had become attached to her so quickly, she was very sorry she had forgotten about him that morning.

She looked up to find Fernando and Dory walking toward her. "Thanks for watching my dog," she greeted him. "I'm Aubrey Glenn."

Before Fernando could reply, Dory let out an ecstatic

squeal. "Not the A\xhrey Glenn! I don't believe it! It is you, isn't it? Just wait until my mother hears that I met you. She loved your book, and now I'll be sure to read it, too."

Dory was even more striking up close. She was in her early twenties, her features were finely drawn, and her flawless skin was a healthy shade of lighdy tanned peach. Her eyes were more green than blue, and her lashes were long and thick. Her teeth were very white, creating a dazzling smile. Aubrey had expected her to have a low, sultry voice which would match her exotic beauty, but Dory spoke in breathless bursts, in a high childlike tone that gave ample evidence of her immaturity. While there were plenty of men who would love to call her their baby, Aubrey was now positive Jesse would not be among them.

Enormously relieved, she replied with the warmth she showed all her fans. "Please give your mother my best."

"Oh, I sure will. Her name's Norma, and I'm Dory Pruitt."

"How do you do, Dory?" Aubrey felt Jesse approaching a second before she heard his boot heels goudge the dirt. She turned and smiled and drew him into their conversation before he could make his feelings known.

"Dory told me her mother's a fan. Isn't that wonderful? It's a constant thrill to meet people who've read my book and been touched by its message."

Jesse caught his jaw before it fell agape, and forced a smile. "Yes. I'm sure that's inspiring. Why don't you get along home, Dory, and tell your mother you met Aubrey. I'm sure she'll be delighted."

Aubrey watched Fernando bite his lower lip to stifle his laughter, but Dory seemed not to understand that she had just been dismissed. She gestured toward the corral with red-tipped nails and began questioning Jesse about a sorrel mare. Jesse replied that the horse wasn't for sale, but Dory wouldn't accept his decision as final.

"You'd sell her to me, though, wouldn't you?" she coaxed in a childish whine.

Jesse stepped forward, grasped Dory's upper arm, and wheeled her around toward the path Aubrey had followed. "Nope. I wouldn't. Now Aubrey and I have plans for the evening and we haven't another second to chat. Come on. I'll walk you back to your Jeep."

"But, Jesse," Dory argued. She wiggled and squirmed, but Jesse kept right on walking and pulling her along.

Aubrey didn't want to laugh out loud, but after hearing Fernando's low chuckle, she was sorely tempted. "You must be Fernando," she said.

Fernando nodded. "That I am. My wife told me you were very pretty, but she did not know how smart you are. I do not read many books. Would I enjoy yours?"

Besides his dark coloring, Fernando did not resemble the Indian in her visions, but there was something in the way he moved that reminded Aubrey of the elusive brave. He was flirting with her, which she hadn't expected, and certainly wouldn't encourage. "You'll have to ask Jesse. He's read it and can give you an unbiased opinion."

Fernando glanced down at Lucky, who was nestled close to Aubrey's side. "Jesse is no more unbiased than your dog, but I will ask him just to hear what he has to say. Do you like horses?"

Aubrey licked her lips nervously. "They're magnificent creatures," she replied, "but I've had very few opportunities to ride."

"You have the perfect one now." Fernando touched his hat brim, then turned away, leaving Aubrey with the distinct impression that he was advising her to apply herself. He entered the barn, and she strolled over to the corral to take a closer look at the horses. She spotted the sorrel mare easily, and thought her much too delicate for a woman Dory Pruitt's size.

In addition to the sorrel, there was a palomino, three bays with glossy black manes and tails, and dapple gray. Apparently looking for treats, the gray approached her and pressed against the rail. ''Sorry, fella, I'm fresh out of apples, or whatever it is you eat."

Again she felt Jesse coming up behind her before she heard his footsteps. "This horse is spoiled," she told him. "I've apologized for coming out here emptyhanded, but he doesn't seem to believe me."

Jesse dropped a sugar cube into her hand. "Hold out your palm, and he won't nibble your fingers by accident."

Aubrey held out her hand and then laughed when the horse plucked the cube from her palm. "His whiskers tickle. Oh look, they're all coming over now."

Jesse pulled another sugar cube from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. "I've enough for everyone. Which do you like best?"

"They're all gorgeous, and I'm sure they must have distinct personalities. The gray is the boldest, but I'm not sure he's the most beautiful. What's his name?"

"Bluebeard," Jesse replied, "but he's a gelding and has never done away with any wives."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Jesse kept handing her sugar cubes for each horse in turn. "Thanks for being so gracious with Dory. I swear her bra size is above her IQ, and sometimes it's difficult not to become impatient with her. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if she didn't turn up here tomorrow with her mother and ask you to autograph her copy of your book."

Aubrey stroked the palomino's velvety muzzle before giving him a sugar cube. "I won't mind. It's really a nice tribute to the book."

"And you," Jesse stressed. Out of treats, he hugged Aubrey briefly, then took her hand. "Let's clean up before supper. Lupe feeds the hands first, then serves me the

leftovers, but with you here, I might get first pick of the food for a change/'

"You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"Yes, but it's fun."

He winked at her, and Aubrey remembered how serious he had been the first time they had spoken. She had been positive she couldn't help him find out what had happened to the Ferrells, and now it looked as though they were very close to learning the whole sad story. A couple of men appeared on the bunkhouse porch, but Jesse just waved to them rather than swing by to introduce them.

"Can we go riding tomorrow?" Aubrey asked with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

Jesse held the back door open for her, and they were enveloped in the savory aroma of barbecued beef coming from the kitchen. "Damn, but that smells good," he sighed. "Yes. Let's go riding tomorrow, and I'll give you the complete tour. As for tonight, I promise to keep you entertained right here."

Aubrey reached up to kiss him, then quickly pulled away when Lupe called to them. She wasn't used to having so many people around, but Jesse was such a fascinating man, it was going to be very easy to ignore all the others. "I can hardly wait," she purred in a throaty whisper, and the desire that filled his glance warmed her clear through.

wondered if she saw her own life as equally dull. "What about advertising for his owner? Have you given up on that?"

"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten we ought to at least try to find his home." Aubrey didn't understand how such a simple matter had become so complex. 'Tm afraid I didn't think this through before we left home. My home," she quickly amended.

"Neither of us was thinking too clearly, and that's Gil-roy's fault, not ours. Why don't I keep Lucky for a while? When you get home, place an ad in the Times, and if the owner responds, I'll buy a dog carrier, put Lucky on a plane, and send him out to you."

That suggestion solved their problem with Lucky, but Aubrey still felt uneasy. "There's something about that dog," she murmured.

Jesse watched Aubrey's frown deepen. "The Ferrells didn't own a dog. Is that what you were thinking, that he might have been theirs?"

"No, it's not that. It's just a feeling, but it won't corne clear." The Indian's gesture toward the west had certainly been emphatic, but had only left her confused. "Something's going on, but I don't know what it is yet. Maybe I'll understand in another day or two."

"A premonition?"

Aubrey rubbed her arms. "Not yet. Have you ever had the feeling you've forgotten something, but you don't know what?"

"Yes. Then later when I remembered what it was, I felt like an idiot."

Lupe Pena came to the doorway and appeared mystified to find them conversing on the back porch. "There are better rooms in this house to entertain your guest, Jesse. Now you didn't answer my question. Do you want a green salad, or coleslaw tonight?"

Jesse vaguely recalled hearing Lupe's voice, but her question hadn't registered. Aubrey appeared to be too preoccupied to make the choice, so he answered for them both. 'The green salad, and give us time to clean up, please/'

Lupe gave a mock curtsy. "As you wish."

Jesse guided Aubrey through the house to the bedroom, and again sent her into the bathroom first. He then went out onto the front patio, sat down on the weathered bench, and stretched out his legs. Almost immediately, a brown and gold Collie appeared and rested his head on Jesse's knee.

"Hi, fella." Jesse scratched the dog's ears and ran a quick mental tally. Despite Lupe's protests, he didn't think there were more than ten dogs on the ranch, and one more wouldn't matter. But damn it all, Lucky was Aubrey's dog, and that was all there was to it. He didn't want to argue with her about it, but he sensed there was a damn good reason for her to keep Lucky. Perhaps he was picking up on the uncomfortable sensation she had described, but for the time being, he would be gracious about it, and abide by her choice.

After a scrumptious meal of barbecued beef, tossed salad, and hot, homemade flour tortillas, Jesse took Aubrey out on the patio to enjoy the stars. "On a night this clear, the whole galaxy beckons. How many stars can you name?"

Under the brilliant canopy, Aubrey recognized several distinct formations, but could name only the Big and Little Dipper, and was proud of herself for that. "I'm afraid I've not studied astromony as yet, but this is a marvelous place to begin."

"It was an extremely popular course when I was at the university, but I think a lot of the guys just wanted an excuse to cuddle up close to the girls."

Jesse was pressed against Aubrey's back, with his arms draped around her waist, and she could not imagine a better tutor. "That's the North Star, isn't it?"

"Sure is. Can you find any of the planets? They follow the path of the sun across the sky, and don't twinkle the way the stars do. Like our moon, they shine with reflected light."

The path of the sun, Aubrey repeated silently. Was that merely a fact, or another suggestion from an unexpected source that she ought to return home? She caught herself before the silence became unforgivably long. "I know Mars is red. Can you point it out?"

Jesse gestured. "Can you find it?"

With such a dizzying array of stars, it wasn't easy for her. "I think so. What about the others? Do they have colors, too?"

"Jupiter is pink, and Saturn's orange." Aubrey nodded, but she appeared to be only mildly interested, prompting Jesse to abandon the astronomy lesson. He used gentle pressure to turn her around. "I don't mean to push you in directions you'd rather not go. Just speak up if I'm boring you, and I'll switch topics."

Even in the pale moonlight, Jesse's expression was easy to read. He was teasing rather than serious, but Aubrey answered truthfully. "You've never bored me an instant. It's just difficult to concentrate. The night is gorgeous, but it will probably take me several nights to see everything as clearly as you do."

Jesse kissed her forehead, then trailed tender kisses over the softness of her cheek to her lips. "Whatever you wish," he murmured against the gentle curve of her throat. "Do you like to dance?"

"Yes, I love to, but I haven't danced in years," Aubrey admitted shyly. "Whenever Larry and I attended parties where there was dancing, he always had people to see,

important cases to discuss, deals to make. He never set aside any time to dance with me."

"I swear I don't understand how any man can be that great a fool. Come on inside with me. I've got a Patsy Cline CD that's perfect for dancing."

Aubrey bit her lip rather than render an opinion on Country/Western music. But once she was snugly tucked in Jesse's arms, she was touched by the late singer's poignant music. Lupe and Fernando Pefia lived elsewhere, and beyond the soft circle of music the house was hushed. With only a single lamp burning, Jesse had created a wonderfully romantic mood, and Aubrey shut out the day's distractions to soak up the sheer joy of being with him.

Jesse smelled delicious and moved in perfect rhythm to the slow songs. It was easy to imagine the same music playing in cowboy bars all over the southwest Couples would be clinging to each other with the same loving warmth that flowed between her and Jesse, while men and women seated alone would remember past lovers and miss them with a terrible longing. It was all too easy to imagine Patsy Okie's haunting songs of love and loss as the perfect score for their affair. She doubted purchasing the CD would be wise, and yet made a mental note to buy one as soon as she returned home.

44 It's a shame Patsy Cline died so young," Aubrey whispered softly. "I'll bet she would still be recording hits."

Jesse leaned back slightly. "I've always thought she was lucky to die when she did. Sure, she could have gone on singing a long time, but could she ever have sounded any better?"

"We'll never know." Aubrey laid her cheek on his shoulder and let the music bring them closer still. The more time she spent with Jesse, the more precious each second became. The lilting strains of "Sweet Dreams," captured the heartbreak of a lost love so beautifully, a mist of tears

filled her eyes. Jesse wasn't lost to her yet, and she pushed the sadness away in an effort to make the night the best it could possibly be.

When the music ended, Jesse wanted Aubrey so badly he couldn't bear to play it again. "I know it's still early, but maybe we ought to call it a night."

Aubrey left his arms with a graceful turn. "Do I still have the choice between being with you and staying in the bunkhouse?"

Jesse shook his head. "Sorry. That was a one-time offer, and you have to abide by the choice you made last night."

Aubrey took his hand to lead the way. "Then I shall just have to make the best of it."

Jesse danced her into the bedroom. "I sure hope so, ma'am." He unbuckled her belt, then unbuttoned her soft silk shirt. He ran his fingertips along the smooth swell above the scalloped edge of her bra. "You sure have fancy underwear for a cowgirl."

"And you, sir, are no ordinary cowboy," Aubrey replied in a husky drawl. She was glad it was early, and grateful he was such a generous lover. It was so easy to become lost in him, and she abandoned herself to the love filling her heart. She thought it fortunate he had a sturdy bed, because no matter how rambunctious their amorous adventures became, they were in no danger of damaging it.

She slid her hands inside Jesse's shirt, and peeled away his clothes as he removed hers. She loved the smoothness of his deeply tanned skin, and the strength which flowed so easily from his muscular body. She trailed her fingertips through the crisp curls covering his chest, and leaned close to nip a leathery nipple. He flinched, but laughed and, after a graceful dip, swung her toward the oversized bed.

"You're a dangerous woman, Aubrey Glenn, and you can obviously read my mind."

Aubrey slid her hand down the rippled flatness of his belly. He was fully aroused, and she stroked him with a knowing touch. "No, I can't read your mind, but other parts of you are shockingly easy to understand."

Jesse eased her down on the bed and began to explore her body's secrets with a slow, taunting touch. She was dripping wet, and he shifted position to taste her. "I can say the same for you," he murmured before his tongue brushed her core.

Aubrey sighed and grabbed a handful of his tawny curls. No more words were needed when they were such a splendid match physically. She surrendered completely and accepted all he would give as though it were her birthright. Equally lavish in her devotion, she gave exquisite pleasure in return. When they at last fell into an exhausted sleep, she lay snuggled in Jesse's arms, too content to utter a murmur of complaint should she fail to live to see another dawn.

Her dreams were as lazy as her mood for several hours, then gradually lost their radiant colors and faded to the ivory and pale gold of desert sand. She was trudging through a wasteland, and tiring rapidly. She gazed out across the barren horizon where faint dustclouds heralded an approaching sandstorm.

With nowhere to flee, she was soon caught in the swirling sand. The wind gained a banshee's eerie wail, and unable to breathe, she fell to her knees and covered her face with her hands. Nearly faint from lack of oxygen, she would have pitched face forward into the dune forming around her had she not been plucked from the ground and carried high above the sandstorm.

Her hair whipped across her face, blinding her for an instant, but when she was able to brush it aside, she found herself in the Indian's arms. He had no wings, but flew with an eagle's grace. He was scowling angrily, and pointed

down toward the desert from where he had just rescued her. "I know you want me to go home/' she shouted against the breeze that still buffetted them. "But I don't understand why."

Rather than answer, the Indian swooped down low to carry her past the storm, and when he released her, she fell only a few feet. She quickly picked herself up. "Answer me!" she screamed, but again the Indian vanished without speaking.

Awakened by the anguished intensity of the dream, Aubrey raised up in bed. Jesse had left a lamp burning on the dresser, or she would have been too disoriented to recognize her surroundings. Desperately thirsty, she shoved the covers aside and headed toward the bathroom.

"Are you all right?" Jesse called.

"Yes. I just need a drink." Aubrey replied, and quickly got herself one.

"Bring me one, too," he answered. "I was just dreaming that I was lost in the desert, and—"

Aubrey stepped back into the bedroom. "The desert? Are you sure?"

"Of course, but it wasn't around here. It must have been the Sahara, or somewhere the sand's pale gold. Now do I get a glass of water or not?"

Aubrey quickly refilled the glass and carried it in to him. She watched him drain it, then set the glass aside. "What were you doing out in this unnamed desert?"

Jesse slicked back his curls with his fingers. "Just walking along. I was looking for something, but a sandstorm came up before I found it. I guess that's why I was so thirsty when I woke up. What woke you?"

Aubrey simply stared at him for a long moment, then certain they had been lost in the same desert, she described her dream. "There have been reports of people sharing the same dream. It's an uncommon phenomenon, but it

does happen occasionally. Perhaps it occurs more often than we realize because most people don't discuss their dreams upon waking and miss the opportunity to discover similarities."

"I don't understand. Why didn't your blasted Indian rescue me, too? Was he just going to let me suffocate in the sandstorm?"

''I'd be happy to ask him the next time he appears, but he doesn't speak, or maybe he just doesn't speak English."

4 This is making my head hurt. Come back to bed."

Aubrey slid in beside him and again felt at home in his arms. "I think I'm supposed to go home, Jesse. I know I planned to stay until Friday, but maybe I ought to fly home tomorrow.''

"No!" Jesse shouted before he could catch himself. "Well, what I mean is, of course you can go home if you think you should; but isn't allowing an Indian who only appears in visions and dreams plan your life for you a bit much?"

Aubrey sat up slightly. "Is crazy the word you'd really like to use?"

"Hell, no. You're the sanest individual I've ever met." Jesse caught her hand and brought it to his lips. "It's just that no man enjoys being second choice, especially when the other man's merely a dream."

Aubrey nestled into the hollow of his shoulder. "You are a very sensible man, Jesse Barrett, but I'd like to remind you that you're the one who got me into this in the first place. I didn't have strange visions and weird dreams until I met you."