The terrible pressure in her chest weighing her down was gone and all at once she felt much happier. Her eyes were too painful to open, her skin was burning, and the stable was gone, yet she was inexplicably happy just to hear his voice. Knowing he was reading her thoughts and probably feeling smug, she directed one last message to him.
How sickening of me.
Although Colby went into the barn to get out of the sun, she found she couldn’t open her eyes even in the darkened interior. She managed to dismount, but was forced to cling blindly to her horse until Juan steadied the animal, holding the reins. “You go on in, I’ll see to the horse.”
“Colby!” Paul raced into the barn, seeing his sister stagger as she dismounted. “What happened?” He glared at his uncle as he wrapped his arm around her smaller figure. “What did you do to her?” His voice was filled with belligerence and suspicion.
“Paul . . .” Colby’s voice was a gentle warning. “My eyes hurt. I can’t see very well. I must have damaged them in the fire earlier. Your uncle was just trying to help me.” She leaned into him, relying on him to get her into the house. “Don’t be rude.” She buried her face into his shirt, stumbling blindly against him across the yard to the ranch house. She didn’t dare open her eyes. Now that she was home her eyes seemed to hurt even more.
Ginny rushed to her side. “What happened? You’re sunburned, Colby, it’s really bad.” At once she soaked a towel in cold water and pressed it into her sister’s hands.
Colby held the cool towel to her swollen eyes. She sank
into a chair. “I can’t believe how much this hurts. I’ve never been so glad to be home.”
“I can drive you into town to the doctor,” Paul offered.
Colby took a deep breath and shook her head. “I think I just want to lie down for an hour or so.” She felt exhausted, the need to sleep so strong in her she was afraid she might succumb right there in the kitchen. She rubbed at her pounding temples. “I have so much to do.”
“I called the vet,” Ginny volunteered; “he’s coming out again this afternoon. The chickens are fed and the garden is watered. The fire marshal has someone coming to investigate the fire. Paul made all the calls to the owners of the horses. Well, except Shorty.” Ginny hesitated a moment, glancing up at her brother. Colby was never sick. She’d been injured on many occasions but she rarely had gone to bed during the day, not even after a long difficult calving. “Oh, and I called Tanya Everett and asked if she and her mother could come over this evening instead of this afternoon.” She ducked her head, her eyes skittering away from Paul’s. “I was going to cancel altogether, but she sounded so lonely and I thought maybe I could ride with her in the corral. If you want me to put her off, I will, Colby.”
“No, of course not, chickadee.” Colby pressed the cooling cloth closer, desperately trying to take the heat from her skin and eyes. “I’m so tired, I really need to rest for a couple of hours. Will you wake me later?”
“Come on.” Paul helped her up and led her down the hall to her room. “Don’t worry about anything, I can take care of it.”
Colby removed the cloth from her eyes to peer at her brother. The light shining through the window hit her with alarming radiance. Immediately she squeezed her eyes shut tight again and hid in the damp, soothing cloth. “Pull the curtain closed, Paulo.”
He obeyed her, pulling the heavy drapes across the opening to darken the room. “Are you sure I shouldn’t take you to the doctor, Colby? Maybe your eyes were burned in the fire.” He sounded very young and scared.
“I think they’re just sensitive, Paul, and I’m so tired.” She lay on her bed, reaching her hand blindly toward him. “I need to talk to you about Juan and Julio Chevez. They’re here to
help you and I think you should be respectful as they are our father’s brothers. On the other hand, with all the strange things happening around here, I think you should keep an eye on them. I mean it, Paul. Just make sure you and Ginny are safe.” She wiggled uncomfortably until Paul reached out to unstrap her side holster.
Colby could still smell Rafael on her sheets and pillow. She wanted to press her face into the cotton and inhale.
“I don’t think wearing a gun to bed is in fashion this year. Where’d you leave your rifle?” Paul asked abruptly. His sister looked very fragile all of a sudden.
“In the scabbard. I think Juan was unsaddling the horse. Get it back in the gun rack, Paul, and be sure to unload it.”
Ginny bustled in, pushing Paul aside with her small hip. “I’ve brought some aloe vera. Just lay there and let me smear it on you.” She glanced worriedly up at Paul. “She’s so tired all the time, Paul. Do you think she’s sick? She didn’t eat all day yesterday or this morning. She didn’t even have a cup of tea.”
A smile flirted with the corners of Colby’s mouth. “I am here, Ginny. You don’t need to talk about me in the third person.”
“You know Colby,” Paul said decisively, not wanting Ginny to worry, “she’s been getting up a couple of hours early to go hunt for . . .” He trailed off, aware Pete Jessup was a dangerous subject. “Just keep an eye on her, Ginny, and stay in the house with her. Keep King with you, too.” He spoke gruffly, suddenly feeling the tremendous responsibility for his two sisters.
Ginny rolled her eyes as he swaggered out, Colby’s holster in his hands. “Big mistake, Colby, giving that dork power. Next thing you know he’ll be impossible to live with.” She gathered up Colby’s hair, surprised Colby didn’t move at all. Ginny bent closer. Colby had already fallen asleep. Ginny sat on the edge of the bed staring intently at her sister, her fingers automatically plaiting the thick strands into one loose braid. There was something different about Colby. It was so subtle Ginny couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. Despite the terrible sunburn, Colby
looked
different, more . . . everything. Ginny felt comforted sitting beside Colby, but she wished her sister hadn’t gone to sleep so quickly. She needed to talk to her.
Ginny leaned very close. “It’s all my fault, Colby. I wish you could hear me.” She whispered the words against her sister’s neck, against the strange mark branding her skin. “I did it, Colby.”
Colby lay perfectly still, her breathing even and regular, looking like an angel in her sleep. A tear leaked out of Ginny’s eye and trickled down her cheek until it dropped onto Colby’s neck, onto the distinctive mark. At once Colby moved, her hand reaching out until she found Ginny’s. “You could never have done such a thing.” Her voice was soft and drowsy. There was a faint smile in the tone.
“I didn’t
start
it,” Ginny admitted, sniffing a little. “But I called King in. I waited until you were asleep and I called him into my room and shut the door. I
hate
sleeping without him. I still have nightmares about Mom and Dad dying. About you dying. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Not ever.”
Colby made a tremendous effort to stir. She had never felt so tired, her body so leaden she felt weighted down. She managed to lace her fingers even tighter through Ginny’s fingers. “Baby, why would that make you responsible? You probably saved his life. Whoever started that fire didn’t think about the horses locked inside. They wouldn’t have hesitated at killing our dog if he had tried to alert us.” Because she was so tired, Colby wasn’t censoring her words as she ordinarily might have.
“I shouldn’t have called him in—then Shorty’s horse wouldn’t have been killed.” Ginny buried her face deeper into Colby’s neck so that the mark throbbed like a heartbeat.
Colby roused herself further, slipping her arm around Ginny. “Don’t be so scared, honey, we aren’t going to lose our home. No one will separate us. I love you and Paul. This was not your fault.”
“Mom and Dad went away.” Ginny choked back a flood of tears.
“I know, sweetheart. Dad tried to stay with us as long as he could. I know it was hard on you, but no one is going to separate us.”
“What if those people take you to court and make us go to Brazil with them?” Ginny’s little body was shaking.
Colby drew the comforter over her, surrounding both of them with its warmth and soothing properties. “I don’t think they will, Ginny. But if they did, I don’t think they’d win. And if they did somehow manage to win, well, I talked to Juan today. He’s your uncle, Dad’s brother, and he said they wanted me to go along. I would never let them take you without going along as well.”
“You could marry Rafael De La Cruz,” Ginny said suddenly. “If you did they would never be able to separate us because he’s the boss.”
Alarm spread through Colby, her body tightening. The thought of being married to Rafael De La Cruz was daunting. He would rule her absolutely. She could see it in the stamp of arrogance on his face, the heat in his heavy-lidded smoldering eyes. She had no way of combating his hold over her. Colby still hadn’t opened her eyes and didn’t want to. “Has he been talking to you?”
“Only this morning in the kitchen when everyone was looking at me and I was so scared. He was nice to me. He talked about Dad, and when Dad was little, and he said you weren’t hurt very bad and not to worry, things had a way of working out. He said you were beautiful.” Ginny clutched tightly at Colby’s hand. “He made me feel safe and stood in front of me when I was crying so no one could see me.”
“That was very nice of him. Rafael seemed to be everywhere this morning. Fighting the fire, healing the horses, helping me, and now I hear he was looking out for you.” Colby’s voice sounded far away as if she was sliding back to sleep. She turned her face into the coolness of the pillow, inhaled Rafael’s scent, and covered the mark on her neck with her palm, holding it like a caress against her skin.
“He said it wasn’t my fault and to talk to you about it,” Ginny persisted.
“He was right, baby, it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you called the dog last night. From now on if you need King you just go ahead and call him in every night. Ginny? I’m really tired, honey, I need to sleep.”
“Do you like him?”
“Like who?” Colby asked, drifting further into a dream.
“Rafael. Do you like him?”
Colby smiled again. “No.” Her voice was soft and sensuous.
Ginny snuggled closer, a pleased smile on her face. “Yes, you do, I can tell by your voice.”
8
T
he sun was
slow in sinking behind the mountain, and dark ominous clouds began to float across the sky. The sky seemed alive with orange and red hues, as if the entire heavens were on fire. Deep below the earth a single heart began to beat and Rafael awoke, his eyes snapping open, his first breath releasing in a long slow hiss of fury. Somewhere above him Colby’s distress had awakened him from his rejuvenating slumber. She was fighting back tears, her mind chaotic and fearful.
Rafael scanned the area to ensure he was completely alone before he burst through the surface, dirt spewing into the air like a geyser. He rose high into the air, shape-shifting as he did so, choosing the familiar form of the strong and powerful harpy eagle. Spreading his wings, he climbed even higher, grateful for the thickening cloud cover guarding his sensitive eyes. He soared above the ranch, inspecting the region closely, looking for potential trouble.
The ranch seemed quiet enough, yet he knew Juan had found a steer, horribly mutilated, the animal killed quite recently. It had been a brutal, savage act, and the steer had been left in the water hole. He had taken the information from Colby’s mind. He read Paul’s mind as the boy stood in the
shadows of the porch watching the blood red sunset and talking with his sister. In the body of the bird, Rafael flew higher and higher, unashamedly listening to every word of the conversation taking place below him, his sharp eyes taking in every movement on the ground, seeking to find hidden danger to his lifemate.
“Were you with Juan when he found the steer?” Colby persisted. “How long was he out of your sight?” She was still fighting the effects of sleep, making a concentrated effort to be alert and listen to every detail of the distressing news.
“The fence was down near the field, Colby,” Paul said, his young voice weary. “I told Juan I could handle it by myself. They’re fast workers, and they know what they’re doing. I wanted you to be able to sleep. I thought if we split up we’d get more work done. I know you told me to keep an eye on both of them, but I worked with them most of the day and I . . .” He trailed off. “I’m sorry, Colby.”
She reached out to pull his hat lower over his eyes, a loving gesture meant to reassure him. “But you liked them,” she finished for him. “I don’t really think Juan killed the steer, Paul. It wouldn’t be sensible to kill a steer, drag it into the water hole, and then ‘find’ it just so we could take it back out. The animal would have to be there for a while to foul the water hole. My guess is, whoever did this had that as their intention and Juan stumbled upon it too soon.”
“But he might have done it.”
Colby sighed. “Maybe. Did you look for tracks? Did you take a look at his clothes? His knife?”
Paul’s face colored slightly. “I should have. He didn’t leave it in the water. He pulled the carcass out before he came after me.” Paul
did
like his uncles, both of them. They were hard workers and knowledgeable. They treated him like an equal, and they reminded him of his father. Paul was beginning to feel affection and a great deal of respect for both of his uncles and he wanted them to feel the same way about him. He hadn’t searched for evidence or tracks because it hadn’t occurred to him either one of them could be responsible, but now he was confused.
Colby nodded. “We both would have gotten a carcass out of the water. We can hardly fault him for that.” She shook her
head. “I’m very worried; someone is definitely trying to shut us down. We’re operating on a thin financial margin as it is.” She glanced around her to ensure Ginny wasn’t close by and lowered her voice another notch. “You aren’t a little kid anymore, Paul, I don’t know who we can trust and who we should be afraid of. But someone murdered Pete. It wasn’t an accident. He didn’t have money, there was no reason to try to rob him, someone burned down our stable, and now they’ve killed one of our steers and left it in a water hole deliberately to foul it.”