California Girl (21 page)

* * *

“Arghh! I’m not certain I’ll ever walk straight again.” After
spending the afternoon riding up and down canyon trails, Alys massaged her
aching thighs and tried to straighten her knees before climbing out of the
Caddy. With interest, she eyed the fake representation of a colorful frontier
town that Mame had chosen as their motel for the night. “This isn’t exactly how
I pictured Texas.”

Elliot carried their luggage around from the trunk, looked
up at the pink porch of the section they’d been assigned, and shrugged. “You
expected to stay at J.R.’s palace? You haven’t seen enough rocks and oil
wells?” His jogger’s stride didn’t appear in the least harmed by hours in the
saddle.

They’d stopped at a men’s clothing store on their way back
to the hotel so Elliot could pick up clean shirts and accouterments. Apparently
after their argument today, he’d committed to the remainder of the trip. Alys
wanted to feel jubilant, but she was just the tiniest bit scared of continued
involvement with him.

“Well, at least this isn’t a Holiday Inn clone.” Picking up
the orchid and Purple’s travel box, she limped after Elliot toward their
assigned room. Rush hour traffic roared past on the interstate behind them.

There had been no cryptic messages from Mame waiting for
them at the desk when they checked in, not even an upgrade to a king-sized
suite.

She knew Elliot was worried and trying hard not to show it,
but he’d checked with the police twice today, and there had been no sign of
her. It wasn’t as if Mame were a criminal on the loose. The police weren’t
likely to notice her unless she somehow caught their attention—like crashing
the car after a fainting spell.

Alys had to admit even she wasn’t as blasé as she pretended.
They’d not gone an entire day without finding some reassurance from Mame that
she was alive and well. Maybe she was waiting to surprise them inside.

A maid wearing jeans and pushing a cart stepped out on the
porch of their room just as Elliot reached to put a key in the lock.
Apologizing in Spanish, she scurried out of their way.

“I assume that means we have clean towels. I feel like I’m
covered in grime from head to toe,” Elliot said, waiting for Alys to catch up.
He gave her one of his heavy-lidded looks that sent her blood racing. “If this
place had a spa, we could work out a lot of kinks. Want to find another hotel?”

Oh, yes, she definitely would. Just thinking about what they
could do in a whirlpool of water wiped away aches. Afraid she would come to
rely on the pleasures he offered, she shook her head. “Mame would look for us
here.” She half-hoped he could counter her objection.

Accepting it with a frown but no argument, Elliot lifted the
heavy suitcase, opened the door, and froze.

Alys
stumbled to a halt, nearly planting her nose in his spine. Hearing him growl
something like
I’m going to kill
her
, she thought it
expedient to peek around Elliot’s shoulder.

A small girl sat cross-legged in the center of one of the
room’s two double beds, emptying a red backpack on the covers. Wearing bright
red overalls over a lace-trimmed white blouse, her shoulder-length black hair
forming a fringe over big brown eyes, she gazed up from the bag in her lap to
stare back at them.

“Oh, dear.” Pushing past Elliot, Alys set her orchid down on
the dresser and put Purple’s cage beside it. “Close the door, Elliot. There’s a
note on the desk.”

The child didn’t appear to blink, although she gazed at the
cat cage with interest. While Elliot hauled in the suitcases, Alys removed
Purple from her cage and walked slowly toward the bed. The child showed no fear
when Alys sat cross-legged on the end of the mattress facing her.

“Hi, I’m Alys. What’s your name?” Crouched in Alys’s lap to
examine the competition, even Purple momentarily behaved.

The child didn’t speak but reached out a tentative hand to
the kitten. Purple sniffed and butted his head against small fingers.

“Her name is Lucia.” Elliot scanned Mame’s note. “We’re
supposed to deliver her to a reservation in New Mexico.”

Purple fled from Alys’s lap, stalked regally past Lucia, and
settled on a pillow to lick her healing paw. Lucia’s head swiveled to watch.
Still, she said nothing.

Remaining on the bed’s edge facing the child, Alys took the
note Elliot handed her and read Mame’s erratic handwriting.

I need the two of you
to trust me on this
,
Mame wrote.
Lucia has just lost
her parents. Her grandmother has no transportation. She is waiting for her in
New Mexico. I am fine but I can’t be in two places at once. Lucia’s aunt is in
trouble and needs my help. I know both of you know what it’s like to lose
parents. Take her to her family, please.

At the bottom of the note she included directions to the
reservation.

“I don’t like this,” Alys murmured, handing the note over
her shoulder to Elliot.

He stood so close, she could lean back and rest her head
against his torso if she wanted. She very much wanted, but she resisted. Elliot
was more a temptation than chocolate chip cookies and black-bottom pie all
rolled into one. Against her better judgment, she wanted to share her thoughts
with him, wanted to lean on him for comfort and support, wanted to go to bed
with him, even when she knew she shouldn’t.

It looked like the question of bed had been answered.
Privacy was now a thing of the past. She admired the hot pink camera Lucia held
out to her.

“This is erratic, even for Mame,” Elliot said worriedly,
placing his hands on her shoulders and massaging as naturally as if he did this
every day.

It felt so good, Alys refrained from reminding him that she
wasn’t his to toy with. She checked the camera, but couldn’t decide if the film
had been used up. She aimed the lens at Lucia and snapped. The flash worked. “I
wish she’d call. There aren’t any messages on your cell phone, are there?” That
was a stupid thing to say, and Alys cursed herself for it immediately.
Reminding him of duty always distracted him from pleasure.

Elliot stopped his marvelous massage to check the phone.
“No, nothing.”

Watching the silent child attempting to attract Purple’s
attention, Alys thought about it, then shook her head. “I prefer to believe
Mame knows what she’s doing. She doesn’t always go about like normal people,
but she’s far from senile. I think she’s just rescuing another orphan.” The how
and why were valid questions Alys couldn’t answer. She simply knew Mame’s heart
and trusted it.

Elliot whistled softly and stuck Mame’s note in his pocket.
“I think there are better authorities to do that than us.”

“There were probably proper authorities when your parents
died, too, but Mame didn’t bother with them, did she? She took you right home,
gave you a bed, and let the authorities deal with themselves.”

“Yeah, no matter what happened, we always came first,”
Elliot admitted, shoving his hands into his pockets as if to keep them from
straying. “I didn’t know it at the time, but the court tried to say a single
woman of limited means was an unsuitable guardian for three young boys. Even though
my father left us the house and life insurance, his practice closed after his
death, and Mame lost her job there. I don’t know what she did, but to this day
there are still a few members of the judicial system who steer warily around
her.”

“Then we have to trust her now,” Alys said firmly. A woman
who could hold off the judicial establishment to protect her nephews was a
woman to be admired, not argued with.

The small child attempting to attract the kitten’s attention
melted Alys’s heart into a puddle. How dreadful it must be to lose parents so
young and be thrust into a world of strangers. She should be eternally grateful
her parents had lived long enough to see her grown and out in the world on her
own. No more self pity for her.

She wanted to hold this poor little girl, promise her
everything would be all right, and make it happen—dangerous to think like that.
She could never be a mother if she wasn’t prepared for attachments.

“Albuquerque can’t be more than three or four hours from
here, can it?” she asked, deliberately breaking her concentration on Lucian and
standing up to examine—what? Anything. She just couldn’t watch the child
anymore.

She’d been an only child. When she married Fred, she’d
dreamed of a houseful of laughing, loving children. That dream had died with
Fred.

“I don’t think trying to find a house on the reservation in
the dark is a wise idea,” Elliot decided. “It would be midnight. And I haven’t
fed you.”

“I wonder if Lucia has eaten? What do kids this age eat?” Fretting,
Alys searched the desk for a room-service menu. “Hamburger?”

“You can’t feed a kid on a diet of red meat.” He swiped the
menu from her hand.

The familiar argument reassured her. Elliot would know what
foods were best for children. She didn’t want to be the one relied on anymore.

“Where do you think Mame is hiding?” she whispered, using
the excuse of preventing Lucia from hearing to linger close to Elliot.

“Wherever it is, when I find her, I’ll wring her neck.”
Absently, he ran his fingers through her hair while glancing up from the menu
to watch Lucia and the kitten check each other out.

“At least we know she’s all right.” She was becoming as
uneasy as Elliot about the state of Mame’s health. They’d been on the road for
three days, and even these short hops could be exhausting.

Refusing to pick up Elliot’s negative vibrations, Alys
escaped his tempting presence and sat down on the bed again. Lucia shyly looked
at her as Alys opened the backpack to check its contents.

“How old are you?” Alys asked in some hope of encouraging
the child to speak.

Lucia held up five fingers, then ducked her head down to
examine the book Alys handed to her.

“Five! You’re a big girl. Do you like that book?”

Lucia nodded emphatically.

Well, the child could hear just fine, at least. “Do you know
your grandmama’s name?” Alys wondered how many kids could say their
grandmother’s name, but she didn’t know how else to find out more.

Lucia sent her a heartbroken look, pulled the edge of the
bedcover from the pillow, and rolled up in it. Only her head emerged, and she
was looking at the kitten, not Alys. Purple seemed to understand that Lucia
needed her and curled in a ball close by.

“Maybe we should call the police.” Rubbing his ribs, Elliot
frowned and looked uncertain.

“Maybe Mame will come back and explain everything.” Alys
knew that was overly optimistic, even for her, but she didn’t want to turn the
child over to the police. Lucia could be lost in the system and never seen
again. And her grandmother was waiting for her on the reservation.

Trying not to worry about the child hiding in the bedcovers,
she remembered Elliot had eaten the last of his Tums, and grabbed at the excuse
to escape. “I saw a Wal-Mart up the road. I’ll stretch the kinks out and walk
over there while we’re waiting for room service. Wal-Mart should have
children’s books. And she’ll need a toothbrush. While I’m at it, I can ask the
pharmacist if he has any recommendations for your heartburn. Will you be all
right here with her?”

“I’m a doctor,” he said with a tone of resignation. “I know
the remedies for heartburn. I don’t need anything, thank you.”

“Physician heal thyself. Maybe they have some sulphuricum.
Bet you haven’t tried natural remedies.” Picking up her purse, Alys remembered
Lucia’s toy camera and grabbed it, too. “I’ll get her some film.”

He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t object at being left
with a child and a kitten, so Alys all but ran out of the room. She didn’t know
what Mame was trying to prove, but she wasn’t going to prove it by her. She
wanted her freedom, and she wouldn’t be tricked into falling for biological
clocks and sad dark eyes and playful kittens.

Or by a sexy man who had the idiotic notion he could take
care of himself and everyone around him.

She’d set out on this journey to learn who she was and what
she wanted. That was hard to do when sheltered by Elliot and worrying about
Purple and Lucia. She needed to experience life face-on, on her own.

Determined to enjoy this moment of independence, she looked
around with fascination. Following Route 66 had taken them down byways the
interstates would never touch, but this particular stretch of the old road was
right next to the interstate. Apparently a favorite for truck drivers, there
were truck stops on either side, and the parking lot between the hotel and its
restaurant was large enough for the big rigs. There were semis all around her.

Even though the hotel was on the new interstate and surrounded
by fast-food joints, this was Texas. She’d never seen trucks wearing longhorns,
or tumbleweed rolling down city streets. Using Lucia’s camera, she snapped a picture
of the weirdly colorful motel, the tumbleweed, and the bright yellow
restaurant, then started down the highway.

The street was jammed with rush-hour traffic, so she was
glad Wal-Mart was within walking distance. It would take her longer to drive
than to walk. She took a picture of some evil-looking men at the gas station
who reminded her of pictures of Pancho Villa. They needed to wear serapes
instead of ribbed undershirts and gold necklaces. She thought maybe the
beautiful woman on the corner was Native American, so she snapped her picture,
too. Having lived in rural Missouri all her life, she’d not had the opportunity
to meet many people of other cultures. It might be interesting to live here.
What occupation could keep her here?

She wished she could build a career on taking pictures, but
she didn’t know how any of those she’d taken turned out. Elliot had said he
could show her the pictures from his digital camera on his laptop. She would
have to remember to remind him.