A touch of love (27 page)

Jesse found it surprisingly difficult to think of her leaving so soon. "Well, I can't promise to turn you into a cowgirl in four days, but I'll give it my best try."

Jesse took a bite out of his second pan dulce, but Aubrey couldn't finish her first. If she flew home Friday morning,

which she intended to do, they would have only four and a half days together, and then probably never see each other again. She was certain Jesse would promise to call her when he visited his aunt, and he might the next time he came to California, but then he would forget.

Large windows on either side of the stone fireplace provided another magnificent view. Knowing how brief her stay would be, Aubrey thought it very sad the home's original owner had not been able to share the marvelous scenery with the woman he loved. It was far easier to dwell on his heartbreak than her own.

''What do you suppose happened to the man who built this house?" she asked wistfully.

The story I heard is that he went on to California, became one of the first car dealers, and got rich. Now if you're finished, let's go. There's lots to see in town, and I want to have time to find you some tea."

Aubrey left the table with him, but she wished he weren't in such a terrible hurry, because it would make the few days they had to share go by much too fast.

Jesse looped his arm around Aubrey's shoulders and turned her back toward the living room. "I haven't taken a count since I got home, and the number may have changed. Come on. The truck's still out front. Let's get going or we won't be home in time for supper."

Aubrey glanced back toward Lupe, who was rolling her eyes, and decided Jesse must own at least a dozen dogs. 4 * If you usually don't allow your dogs to come inside the house, we should have left Lucky outside last night."

"No. He's a guest, and he didn't hurt anything, so it doesn't matter." Jesse opened the front door for Aubrey and then followed her across the patio. "On the way into town, we'll pass Tlaquepaque, a real fancy shopping village built with Spanish Colonial architecture and filled with expensive boutiques. If you feel like spending lots of money, we'll stop."

Aubrey climbed up into the truck and waited for Jesse to walk around and get behind the wheel. "I'm sure they must have lovely shops, but I'd rather just drive around and enjoy the scenery."

Jesse reached over, wrapped his fingers around Aubrey's wrist, and pretended to take her pulse. "Are you feeling okay? I didn't think women ever got out of the mood to shop."

"In such a beautiful setting? Why would I want to spend my time indoors trying on clothes?"

"Beats me." Jesse stared the engine, and they were soon bouncing along the unpaved road on their way to the highway. Once they reached it, he was able to talk without having to shout. "The red rock formations were laid down as sediment when this area was below sea level. Fault lines created separate mesas, and erosion accounts for today's sculptured buttes. Each one has a name: Cathedral, Courthouse, Bell Rock, Coffee Pot, Sugar Loaf, Steamboat, and others. I'll point them out, but there are a lot of people

who come here to experience a vortex rather than the red rock canyons.''

"A vortex?" Aubrey asked. 'They're something like magnetic fields, aren't they?"

"You can look at it that way. The Earth is a giant magnet. A vortex is merely a spot where there's a change in the Earth's magnetic field. There may be lots of them, but there are four clustered near Sedona, and that makes this a major site. The energy here is positive, but there are places, like the Bermuda Triangle, where the energy is negative. Or so I've read. To tell you the truth, I've never paid much attention to the psychic claims for the area, but after meeting you, I've begun to wonder if I'm not wasting an opportunity to explore them."

So that was why he had invited her home, Aubrey thought. Just as quickly, she dismissed the suspicion as unworthy of contemplation. She had come to Sedona with him because she had wanted to, no, needed to, and nothing else truly mattered.

'That's Bell Rock up ahead to our right."

"It's aptly named, isn't it?" Aubrey leaned forward slightly to observe the butte whose knobbed summit flared out into a broad circular base. The layers of rock varied in color from a deep, rich red to a sandy terra cotta, and were sprinkled with sparse vegetation. "Could we stop?" she asked.

"Of course." Jesse pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway across from the Bell Rock Motel. He then led Aubrey over the rocky trail toward the domed butte. "We can sit down awhile, and give the spirits in the area a chance to contact you."

Aubrey made her way carefully over the trail worn in the powdery, reddish soil. The dust clung to the toes of her boots, giving the tan leather a pink cast. "Just what sort of spirits are they?"

"Friendly ones," Jesse stressed. "I told you Sedona is known for its positive energy."

"The sky is such a vivid blue," Aubrey observed admiringly, "and the earth here is unlike anything at home. It's difficult to believe this is nothing more than a spectacular example of geology."

Jesse waited until they had reached a shady slope to speak. "The Yavapai believe this is where the world began. It's not the way I envision the Garden of Eden, but it's theirs."

Aubrey breathed deeply and, unlike Jesse, found it easy to imagine the colorful landscape as the birthplace of man. "I rather like the idea. The terrain is wildly primitive, and yet unbelievably beautiful. Could we stay here awhile?"

"The rocks are as soft here as anywhere," Jesse advised, and as soon as Aubrey had assumed a cross-legged pose, he dropped down beside her. He was about to take her hand when he remembered that the last time they had tried a mental link, they hadn't been successful. He did not want to risk being blamed if Aubrey's visions weren't pleasant, and kept his hands to himself.

Aubrey had gone on an occasional hike in the San Gabriel Mountains above Pasadena, but the view there was one of granite boulders and pine trees. Here, the vista was surreal, and yet calming. She closed her eyes and released her mind to float wherever it might take her. For a long while there was only a whisper of breeze and Jesse's reassuring presence, then a sandy plain formed in her mind's eye.

Drenched with sun, the soil sparkled with bits of mica. An Indian brave she recognized instantly stepped into view and began walking toward her. He came close, then turned, and motioned for her to follow him back across the desert. When she did not immediately obey, he came back for her and extended his hand. He was a handsome

man with a compelling gaze, but Aubrey did not understand why she should accompany him when his destination appeared to be a vast, lonely desert.

"Why?" she called to him, and he pointed to her, then to himself.

When she still did not follow, he bent down, raised a handful of the sandy soil, and let it slowly trickle through his fingers. He then rose, pointed in the direction of the setting sun, and walked away. Confused, Aubrey called to him to come back, but rather than respond to her plea, like a mirage, he dissolved in a shimmering mist.

Startled, Aubrey sat up straight. She turned, hoping Jesse might have felt something, but he was simply observing her with a sly smile. "Apparently the local spirits aren't interested in me. All I saw was the Indian brave who comes to me at home."

"Really? What do you suppose he was doing way out here?"

"He wasn't here, but off in some desert."

Jesse gestured widely. "This is desert land."

Aubrey rested her hand on Jesse's shoulder to gain the leverage to stand. "Yes, I know. But the sand wasn't red. I'm sure he's just a figment of a playful imagination and nothing more. Whatever psychic talent I have must not work here."

Jesse rose and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. "You're a lot better with touch. I should have told you to pick up a rock. I'll bet that would conjure up more relevant visions."

The Indian had pointed west, and Aubrey couldn't help but wonder if he weren't urging her to return home. That's all she needed: a spirit guide who hated travel. "Another time," she begged. "Let's go on into town."

Jesse reached for her hand as they started down the trail. "Whatever you like. Sedona is at the mouth of the Oak

Creek Canyon. It's named for Sedona Schnebly. Back in 1902, her husband became the first postmaster, but officials in Washington thought Schnebly Station was too long a name to fit on a postmark."

"I thought the name must be Indian."

"Nope. Sedona Schnebly was the inspiration, but you've got to admit, Sedona is a much prettier name than Schnebly Station would have been."

"Yes. It certainly is."

Jesse kept up a running commentary on the area as they rode into town, but Aubrey couldn't shake the image of the insistent Indian. He had thrown a lance at her in his last visit. Had that been a warning rather than a threat? If so, she had been mystified rather than enlightened. Then again, perhaps she had been foolish to bait Harlan Caine, and then not to be alert to every possible hazard.

Aubrey turned and looked back over her shoulder. They were being followed by a RV with camping equipment piled on top, but the sight of the heavily loaded vehicle failed to reassure her. "We should have called Detective Heffley before we left the house. John Gilroy might already be out on bail."

"I'll call them as soon as we get into town. That's Tlaque-paque on our left through the trees. Even if you don't want to shop, we might stop there sometime just to enjoy the art galleries, although there are several in Sedona proper. The place has been an artist colony for years."

"That must be a wonderful way to live."

The road curved just ahead, and Jesse could only shoot her a quick glance. "Aren't you happy with your life?"

"Now there's a question," Aubrey sighed softly.

"That wasn't an answer though, was it?"

Aubrey was well aware of how evasive she had been. "I'd like to just be a tourist this afternoon. Can we tackle the weighty issues another time?"

Jesse reminded himself that barely twenty-four hours had passed since Gilroy had taken a shot at her, and it was no wonder that she didn't want to concentrate on anything serious. "I suppose happiness is a relative term," he mused aloud. "I doubt I'll ever know the same sheer burst of joy riding a bull can bring, but I knew all along I couldn't follow the rodeo circuit forever."

"Are you certain you couldn't get your timing back if you trained hard?"

They had reached Sedona, and Jesse turned down a side street to find a place to park. Once he had set the brake, he answered Aubrey truthfully. "There are men who've ridden well into their forties, but getting stomped once was enough for me. Besides, could you bear to watch if I went back to bull riding?"

Touching his scar had produced such a horrifying vision, that Aubrey couldn't suppress a shudder. "No, I couldn't. But you shouldn't remain retired just to protect me, or some other woman. You have to please yourself first, Jesse, and then everything else will fall into place."

Jesse reached out to caress her cheek. "Hey. I've been to enough of your seminars to know what you believe, but I've never regretted retiring. That I was forced to retire sure hurt at the time, but I've done all right for myself, and like I said, happiness is relative."

Aubrey was happy with him, but underlying the joy he gave was the fear they were still in danger. Then came the longing for something more than the brief affair that appeared to be their only possibility. "That's why it's always wise to live in the moment," she murmured, and she quickly opened her door to begin the tour of Sedona before she turned any more maudlin.

"There's a pay phone at the corner. I'll call the detectives. Why don't you wander around the first couple of shops, and I'll catch up with you?"

"Fine." Aubrey entered a general store filled with quilts, handmade dolls, colorful clothing, and all manner of folk art. She tarried so long perusing the shop's wares, that she began to worry Jesse must have received bad news and been arguing about it. She stepped out on the walk and found him still standing by the telephone, but he wasn't using it. He was speaking with a young woman whose wild mane of blond hair brushed her hips.

She was dressed in faded Levi's which sculpted her curves to perfection, and a deeply fringed suede halter top. In boots, she was nearly as tall as Jesse, and standing so close, it was plain they were very good friends indeed. Edith Pursely had mentioned Jesse had plenty of girlfriends at home, and Aubrey did not need any psychic talent to recognize this exotic creature as one of them.

The young woman pressed closer, playfully rubbing her hip against Jesse's, and Aubrey had seen more than enough. She fought to suppress a painful burst of jealousy, but failed, and felt sickened to be so insecure. The adjacent shop window featured merchandise decorated with a riot of sunflowers, but as her vision blurred, the bright flowers took on the taunting gleam of cat's eyes.

Jesse hadn't spoken any promises of undying love, so there was absolutely no reason why he shouldn't enjoy flirting with someone as attractive as the statuesque blonde. It was completely illogical for her to feel betrayed, but she did. Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to blink them away, searching in her purse for a tissue.

4 'Did you find anything you like?" Jesse asked as he reached her.

"Lots of things," Aubrey replied as steadily as she could. "What about you?"

Mistakenly believing she was teasing hirn, Jesse replied in kind. "Don't play coy," he scolded. "If you saw me

talking with Dory Pruitt, you must have noticed that every time she took a step forward, I moved two steps back."

That wasn't how Aubrey would have described their exchange. ''This is your home, Jesse. You needn't be embarrassed if you want to stop and talk to the women you date. I'm fully capable of entertaining myself. I won't be in your way."

Aubrey was looking down, and Jesse brushed his fingertips under her chin to force her to look up at him. "There's not a woman in this town who matters to me in the slightest. If you sincerely believe that I'd ask you to duck out of sight to make it easier for me to flirt, then you don't know me at all."