Love's Dream Song Read online

  Again her brow furrowed. “You don’t mean Riker? He’s all mouth. Most of the people here are sophisticated enough not to pay any attention to his bigoted remarks.”

  Riker was the farthest thing from his mind. Clever. He had to hand it to her. She could sidestep like the mountain sheep that used to inhabit the canyon.

  He reminded himself of this primary reason for being here—the cocaine on the market. Autumn could be involved. That would explain why she was so serious and intense. The crowd of scientists would put pressure on her, not to mention the fact that Dr. Davidson might notice some extracurricular activities now that they were at a stationary camp.

  At the edge of the creek, Autumn paused and faced him. “I’m headed for the cliff dwellings. You can follow if you want to keep up.”

  The pure pleasure on her face momentarily erased doubts from his mind. She seemed too engrossed in her heritage to be involved in crime. He’d watched her with her grandfather, seen her hold the turquoise nugget around her neck. His instincts told him she was innocent, and he wanted to believe they were on target this time.

  She rounded the bend where water glistened from the stream below. Before following, Jess paused on the trail to consider how much of his personal feelings were involved. She’d woven a spell around his common sense. Instinct was one thing, but until he was certain about Autumn’s innocence, he mustn’t let his personal interest cloud his judgment or hinder him from accomplishing his goal.

  He caught up to her when she paused at the stream. He studied the sandstone rocks forming the steep bank. “I’m game to climb around.”

  The stream formed pools as it twisted its way through the canyon. Autumn found a shallow section and crossed without getting water in her boots. Jess followed. Several paths wound through the ruins on the canyon floor. Autumn, Dr. Davidson, and Wayne had cleared the ancient walkways during the summer.

  At the base of the cliff they paused. About fifty feet up, the moqui cave had been carved out of sandstone, probably by water before the creek had eroded the canyon floor. The Anasazi had bricked walls along the edge of the cave to form the adobe dwelling. There had been room for about twenty to live in the quarters.

  Shallow toeholds were carved into the steep cliff. Jess held his breath as Autumn climbed. She hadn’t gone more than ten feet when he relaxed. She knew what she was doing. “You make that look easy.”

  “My rubber soles grip the sandstone,” she called back without slowing her ascent.

  He hesitated. He had on cowboy boots. The leather soles would be slippery. It wasn’t that he worried about hurting himself. He’d been in situations that would make a Green Beret sweat. It was Autumn and the seeming intimacy of shedding any of his clothes—even his boots. It was like lowering a piece of the barrier that kept him from giving in to his feelings.

  Autumn scrambled over the ledge and peered at him. “Aren’t you coming, Barron? Or do I need to hold your hand?” A hint of a smile twitched at her mouth.

  “I’m coming.” He’d make it up there all right—and with his boots on.

  He hadn’t gone more than ten feet when his right foot slid, sending gravel and sand below. Jess hugged the rough surface of rock until he regained his footing.

  Without glancing up to see if she was laughing, he returned to the canyon floor and shed his boots and socks. Before the warm sand could dry out his skin, he climbed the ancient steps with ease.

  When he crawled over the edge, Autumn was nowhere in sight. He searched the dimly lit cave until he found her in one of the rooms. He ducked to enter the quarters and was assailed with his past—the cold surface of the floor, covered with years of dust that sifted between his bare toes. The musty odor of darkened rooms. The sound of his grandmother’s voice echoing against the stone walls as she filled his head with stories. Jess didn’t want to remember.

  She shook her head. “I know it’s my imagination. But when I walk in these rooms, I feel like I’ve been here before—in another life.”

  Jess walked back to the edge and looked at the valley below. “Real Tall Man would tell you that you’ve been here in your dreams.”

  “Think so?” She moved beside him.

  “No.” Jess knew his answer had been too curt. He shifted away from her probing stare. “They’re only stories. You don’t believe them, do you?”

  “In some crazy way it makes sense.” She scanned the view. “But in reality, I haven’t had time to give it much thought. Dr. Davidson has kept us busy.”

  An edginess echoed in her voice. “You sound like you aren’t too pleased with that.”

  She shrugged. “It’s a big responsibility. I’ve never been involved with a project like this before.”

  Her strength suddenly had a crack and Jess saw the uncertainty. He moved close and draped his arm around her, wishing he could keep her safe. She stiffened. She didn’t appreciate his protectiveness but it kept him close to her. “I’ll help all I can. Count on me. Anything you need—gofer, muscle, organizer—I can help.”

  “All the makings of a hero.”

  “Now you’re getting the picture.”

  Her eyes had laughing lights in them. They drew him closer.

  “What about the ranch? Don’t you have work to do?”

  “I left my foreman in charge, with a list a mile long.”

  She pointed to the stone slabs spread out against the wall. “Dr. Davidson wants these here so that they can be seen by everyone.”

  Jess studied the slabs. Sunlight barely filtered into the room through the window and cracks in the wall. It was difficult to make out the carved lettering.

  “Is this where he found them?”

  She brushed past him to lean into the corner. “Feel behind this wall. Someone carved out a cave and then walled the slabs inside.”

  He pressed close so he could poke his head behind the wall. “They obviously wanted these to stay hidden. How’d you discover them?”

  “Dr. Davidson thought the wall looked odd. He tapped along the extension and heard the hollow sound of the cavern.”

  Jess studied the wall and shook his head. “I was here many times when I was a kid. We never knew.”

  “We? You said you don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

  “No.” He didn’t let the regret he used to feel at being an only child form. “Enrique Valdez and I spent hours exploring these ruins.”

  He’d already told her that they had alternated summers at each other’s ranches when they were growing up.

  “I noticed he was here. Did he come to hear about Dr. Davidson’s discovery?”

  “We had some business. He’s returning home tonight.” He and Valdez would have to be careful they didn’t arouse suspicion.

  Jess eased to the far side of the slab and lifted an edge, testing its weight. “Is this how you want these?”

  “Yes, but I have to brush them.” She grabbed the small hand broom from the corner. “Better step in the other room. This’ll get messy.”

  It didn’t take her long. When she finished, she wiped her hands on her pants and joined him. Dust motes floated in the air, dancing in the shafts of sunlight.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier for everyone to see them out in the daylight?” Jess lifted one of the slabs and turned it in the shaft of light.

  She wiped her arm across her brow, leaving a streak of dirt on her damp skin. Her scent of heated flesh mingled with musk perfume, bringing back images he didn’t want but couldn’t stop.

  “The professor plans to have them lowered to the campsite later this week. He wanted the others to see where he found them.” She smiled. “You know—get the feel of the discovery.”

  At that moment he wanted to touch her and feel the heat radiating from her body. When she passed by him to exit the room, he almost reached for her.

  As soon as she stepped outside, the room chilled. He shook his head. This place was making him uneasy. Ducking his broad shoulders, he slipped out of the room to join Autumn as she perused
the scene below.

  At the south end of the canyon, the scientists were still gathered around Wayne and Dr. Davidson. Jess couldn’t see the corral from the cave entrance, but he saw Riker moving across on the plateau where they’d set up the tents. Dr. Davidson wanted the living quarters established across the canyon on the high rise of land for two reasons—the plateau was fairly level, and it was out of danger of flash flood.

  Directly below them, Coyote Springs gurgled into pools. As a kid, he’d stripped naked and swum in the refreshing water.

  “This is a perfect place for a settlement.” Ripples radiated from the rock he tossed in the water. “The spring has water all year round. And that plateau over there is high, safe from floods and good for planting corn.”

  “Hundreds of years ago the Anasazi lived here. Can’t you just picture it?” Her voice was low and dreamy. “I can almost hear the chatter of women’s voices as they grind corn for the evening meal.

  “And below, I can picture children pretending to hunt game—see, in those rocks over there—and women working in the fields while the men are out hunting.”

  Her gaze met his. “Can you see what I see?”

  He saw, but it was a different picture entirely. A pool formed at the bed in the stream and beside it a grassy knoll.

  Images of the dream.

  Jess closed his eyes, not sure he should let it come. Autumn’s voice had called up parts of it and he couldn’t shut out the picture. It was the same dream he’d had since Daya had brought him to Coyote Springs as a child.

  She sat among the wildflowers, her dress soft and clinging while her hair shone in the sunlight. And she was waiting—for him.

  Jess ran the last half mile, coming home from the hunt, his near-naked body glistening with sweat. He paused in front of her and tossed the quail and rabbit at her feet—the spoils of the hunt offered to his woman.

  She reached her hands to him. He pulled her upright to stand before him, proud and willing. Slowly he untied the threads and let her dress slip to a pile at her feet.

  No! He tried to shove the dream away, but the image refocused. The woman looked like Autumn—something he’d recognized from the first moment he’d set eyes on her. He took a deep breath. His heart hammered as he concentrated on the cool earth beneath his bare feet.

  When Dr. Davidson had introduced them, Jess had known she was the woman of his dreams, the woman of Daya’s prophecy. That knowledge had propelled him into a relationship that was out of character to his usual steady pace.

  Even his friends had been surprised at the fast pace he’d taken when he’d fallen for Autumn. The two other relationships he’d had since Maria’s death had taken years to develop to the point he’d covered in one week with Autumn.

  He’d been so sure, but he’d paid the price of haste. Now he lived in hell, wanting her even when he knew she was probably involved in a crime he’d vowed to fight to his death.

  It helped to remember Maria and the violence surrounding her murder. Or memories of his father, drunk and wasted as he staggered across the desert, replaced images of Autumn. He even forced to his mind incidents of fights at the boarding school, when he’d shut out all claims to his Dineh blood.

  It did no good. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to swim with her in the pool below, hear her whispers of passion and caring as she set out to please him.

  Her voice brought him out of his fantasy.

  “Jess?”

  He had an odd expression on his face, as if he’d just been given bad news. Quickly Autumn scanned the valley below, wondering if he’d seen something out of the ordinary. Nothing unusual came to her attention. She returned her attention to Jess, who was rubbing the back of his neck.

  The strange look had disappeared, but she sensed tension in him. Her automatic response was to try and ease it. She longed to work the stiffness out of his muscles with the steady pressure of her hands. How many times had he let her work her magic until he’d relaxed and turned into her arms?

  Autumn closed her eyes for a painful moment. Jess’s scent carried in the breeze, aiding the formation of the images. What did it mean, his sudden nearness, his seeming interest? She didn’t have the nerve to ask, afraid that there was an ulterior motive behind the unexpected friendliness. Her past wounds were too raw to expose them to more pain.

  Jess started, as if he’d heard something.

  “Seeing ghosts?” She made the comment in jest, but he didn’t take it as one.

  “I’m going back to camp.” His voice sounded like a growl as he swung over the edge and lowered himself to the canyon floor.

  Autumn sighed. His abrupt and curt departure put an end to the thought that he’d changed his attitude. A wave of uneasiness crept in to mar the congenial feeling she’d almost witnessed.

  She’d never fallen as hard for a man as she had for Jess. In fact, all of her relationships before him had been guarded and reserved. It hadn’t been that way with the rancher.

  From the moment she’d set eyes on him, she’d known he was the special man in her life. Their month together had been pure heaven.

  It made his rejection pure hell.

  Something was going on in his life that he had to resolve. She’d sensed that much with a certainty inherent to her. With the same intuition, she didn’t believe it was another woman. He’d given Autumn too much of himself. She longed for him to confide in her, but he hadn’t. It had to mean she couldn’t help. And maybe it was just as well. The only thing she could do was to give him space and pray that he could settle the demons he warred.

  In the meantime, she would focus her attention on the dig. There were new people to meet—experts in her field that she could learn from. And there were the ruins.

  The canyon stretched below. Too bad Donny and Mike couldn’t see this. If her brothers were here, they would imagine whole pages of history, just as they’d done as children. She could still picture the times they used to pretend they were living in the past ages of whatever country they were visiting. The three of them had been gladiators in the Coliseum, orators on the steps of the Parthenon, and Moorish soldiers capturing castles in Spain.

  What had happened to the people who’d been here in the canyon? Eight hundred years ago they had disappeared and abandoned their homes. No one had known why until now. Was it true? Had they come from Mexico and returned back to their homeland?

  The world would know soon, after Dr. Davidson revealed the stone tablets.

  Autumn shaded her eyes with her hand. The plateau on the other side of the stream was an ideal campsite for the party of archaeologists. Large saltbush provided shade. Grass carpeted the ground. Yes, it was a good site now as it was for her ancestors. She would think about the People, instead of the loneliness that haunted her when she thought about her brothers and Jess.

  .

  CHAPTER 4

  That evening, the canyon rang with the sound of posts clanging, firewood crackling, the hammering of tent pegs, and the dull murmur of voices. It was a sharp contrast to the silence Autumn was used to. Operations went smoothly, considering it was their first night as a large group.

  The cartographer had lost one of the pieces to his tent. Ingenuity fixed that. The beans weren’t ready at the same time the steaks finished broiling. No one complained. Other than those minor inconveniences, the evening progressed well.

  Once everyone had finished eating and setting up their quarters, the group was gathered around the campfire. Autumn leaned against a red sandstone boulder. Exhaustion threatened to take control, but the undercurrent of anticipation kept her alert. The scientists were anxious for the unveiling of the tablets, and Autumn didn’t blame them. Tomorrow would be an important moment in history.

  So far, it seemed a congenial crowd. They would have to stay that way in order to work and live in close proximity for the next few months.

  Autumn wondered if there would be problems. Her attention flew to Connie Turner, who sat on her sleeping bag near the four other repor
ters. The woman grimaced in pain as she rubbed her sore feet. Fortunately, she would only be here a day or two.

  Autumn shifted her attention to the assortment of scientists and art experts, who were obviously seasoned campers. Dressed in outdoor gear and sturdy boots, they crouched around the fire.

  Two older men were visiting with Dr. Davidson. From the familiar tones between them, Autumn surmised they’d know the professor for a long time—probably from one of his earlier digs. All these years she’d thought her boss was such a loner. It seemed acquaintances were turning up from everywhere.

  Jess Barron strummed a guitar and entertained the campers with a medley of western songs. The guitar’s mellow tones and the words to the songs told of adventure and courage; the male tones rang with the power to face them. White teeth flashed in the night as Jess cast rugged smiles to his audience.

  Autumn breathed deep to steady her resolve. She’d proceed with caution around Jess Barron—her heart was too bruised for her to allow herself to be set up for more pain. Besides, she had a feeling his attentiveness involved more than just the two of them. Perhaps he did it for show. After all, the scientists and reporters were an impressive group of people.

  She flinched at her own cynicism. Not only had Jess been concerned for her welfare, but he’d pitched in and acted as host to the gathering. It was his property, after all, yet she’d never had the feeling before that he was interested in the archaeological secrets buried in this canyon.

  Connie Turner crossed her line of vision and blocked Jess from view. The reporter leaned over the singer and handed him a mug. The music stopped and Connie settled down beside him.

  Perhaps the reporter was the reason for the unexpected civility. Their laughter drifted into the night and Autumn shifted, suddenly annoyed.

  Connie was attractive and she looked similar to the women in two photos Jess had at the ranch. Perhaps blondes were more to his taste.

  The reporter’s voice carried across the camp fire. “I could sure use that hot tub you have at your place.”

  Jess smiled. “It’s still there. After tomorrow you’ll be back at the ranch.”