MM02 - Until Morning Comes (3 page)

“That's not necessary. My father will forget this fantasy as quickly as he has forgotten all the others.”

“I know he will. It's not your father I'm worried about; it's me.”

“Why, Colter?”

“Because you bring out archetypal longings in me. You tempt me to ride bareback across the desert and take you captive. You inspire me to paint my face and ride into the hunt, to pit myself against the largest of the elk in order to get a warm winter wrap for you. You make me long to cover you with my blanket and make you the vessel for my children.” He stepped back. “Go back to your people, Jo Beth McGill.”

She couldn't disobey his command, especially since it was spoken in that glorious voice of star shine and thunder. She slid across the seat and turned the key. The engine caught, and she backed expertly away from Colter's camp.

The temptation was great to look back, but she wouldn't let herself. He was right. It was best that they not see each other again.

In the back, Zar whined.

“My feelings exactly, old boy.”

She'd never met a more complex man. As she drove back through the night, she decided that she was glad he'd told her of his two identities—Dr. Gray in one world and Gray Wolf in the other. He was two men living in one skin, and in the last hour she'd become acquainted with both men. He'd been the urbane, compassionate doctor back at her cabin, but in the desert, with nothing surrounding him except wide-open spaces, he'd been a poetic, passionate Apache. And both of them made her a little crazy.

o0o

Colter watched until her Jeep was out of sight. Then he dropped down onto his blanket and inspected the rope damage to his ankles. There was nothing wrong with them that a little antibiotic salve wouldn't cure. His wrists were barely marked, for he'd started loosening those bonds even as he was being marched toward the McGills' outhouse.

He got his medical bag from his gear. It was one of the few things he'd brought into the desert that reminded him of his West Coast life. When he'd left that life behind at the beginning of the summer—could the summer have passed so quickly?—he'd even considered leaving the black bag. But it was too much a part of him, just as his braids were now a part of him.

He'd started letting his hair grow a year ago, right after he'd lost a patient, Marcus Running Deer. Watching the family's quiet preparations to send Marcus on his journey into the spirit world had stirred ancient memories, had created a deep need to rediscover his Apache roots.

It had taken him months to set up his practice so that he could take an extended leave of absence. Finally he'd done it. But even after months in the desert he was no closer to knowing who he was than he had been in San Francisco.

He took a small tube from the bag, and sitting on his blanket again, began to rub the salve into his ankle. A memory of other hands on his skin came to him—small hands, slim hands, lily-white hands.

Impatiently he capped the tube and tossed it back into his bag. He'd been right to send Jo Beth McGill back to her cabin. A woman like her could make a man forget his purpose.

o0o

Jo Beth didn't see Colter again for two days. She tried not to think about him, instead concentrating on getting exactly the right shots for her magazine layout and keeping a watchful eye on her parents. Silas had seemed perfectly normal the last two days, almost like his old self; so she had let the incident with the gun go unmentioned. She knew it was the coward's way out, but sometimes she had to be cowardly in order to preserve peace and her own sanity.

She checked the angle of the sun. There was time for one more shot. While she focused her camera, her dog bounded out of sight, barking. Chasing a rabbit, no doubt. She snapped her final shots of the day and called to him.

There was no answer. She called again, louder this time. When he still didn't come, she headed in the direction he had gone. He wouldn't be hard to find. There was a small stream just up ahead, almost hidden in the lee of the mountains. If she knew Zar, he'd be neck-deep in water by now, hoping she'd come along to toss him a few sticks.

There was no need to hurry. He wouldn't go far from her. She slowed her pace and ambled along, enjoying the view. The sun was putting on a magnificent display in the west and the painted sky seemed to go on forever. She'd heard the sky was bigger in Arizona, but she hadn't believed it until she had seen it.

She came upon the stream and followed its winding curve. Suddenly she stopped. Just ahead was her dog. And beside him was Colter Gray Wolf. Man and dog were unaware of her presence. Colter was standing beside the stream, fishing pole in hand, and Zar was lying at his side, his huge head resting on Colter's foot.

It was a picture too perfect to miss. Jo Beth lifted her camera. She took wide-angle shots with lots of sunset and sky, then changed lenses and took close-ups. Excitement charged through her. It was the thrill of capturing such a breathtaking picture, she told herself as she moved in closer, her camera whirring. That profile. She had to get that sculpted profile.

She framed Colter's profile in the viewfinder and snapped. Still looking through the narrow eye of her camera, she suddenly found herself looking straight into the black eyes of Colter Gray Wolf.

“I thought you must be nearby,” he said.

“I was just finishing up my day's work.” She closed the shutter on her camera and moved toward him. “I wouldn't be here except that my naughty dog ran away.”

Colter's smile was open and friendly. “I'm glad he did, Jo Beth. Do you fish?”

“Do I what?”

“Fish.” He indicated his fishing rod. “I swore when I came to Arizona that I'd do everything the Indian way, but I seem to have acquired a taste for fish since I’ve been in San Francisco. Somehow pinon nuts don't satisfy that craving.”

“I haven't fished since I was ten. I used to go with Rick and Andrew.”

“Who are Rick and Andrew?”

“My brothers. They taught me practically everything I know.”

“Including how to wield a big stick?”

“That, too.”

They laughed together. Zar thought the laughter meant play, so he trotted off, retrieved a stick, and dropped it at Jo Beth's feet. She tossed the stick into the water, and the dog plunged into the stream after it.

“If my supper is down there, by now it's making a fast getaway.”

“Perhaps I should do the same thing.”

“Afraid I’ll punish you?”

“Or banish me.”

While they watched each other, the evening sun dropped off the edge of the earth, taking with it the vast scarf of gold and leaving behind a veil of purple. Zar came out of the water, dripping wet, and deposited the stick beside Jo Beth.

“I had a hard time that evening deciding whether I was very foolish or very wise,” Colter said.

“Wise, I think. What was happening was certainly a fluke. I don't believe in falling in love and all that jazz.”

“You're a very modern woman.”

“I am. And sensible, too. I have neither the time nor the energy for anything now except my job and my parents.”

“How is your father?”

“Almost normal. I wish it could last.”

“I wish I had a miracle for you, Jo Beth. Out here in the desert I've come to realize that there are no miracles except those in nature.” Colter closed the small space between them and put his hand on her cheek. “You're wrong about falling in love, though.”

“How do you know?”

“It's one of the miracles of nature.” His hand caressed her cheek. “Man and woman. They come together as surely as the big horned elk comes down from the mountains to mate with his cows.”

“That's not love. That's propagation of the species.”

“That's a miracle.”

“Your manners of persuasion are very effective, doctor, but your arguments are not.”

She broke the contact, and stepping back, called to her dog. Zar trotted to her side.

“Let's go, boy.” She gave Colter a small salute. “I hope you find what you're looking for, Colter.”

“Perhaps I already have.”

Her face flushed. “I'm talking about in the stream. Fish.... For your supper.”

“Suddenly, my appetite has changed. I find I'm hungry for something more than fish.”

“You might try steak. There's a very good restaurant in Tucson.”

She hurried away so she wouldn't have to keep up the disturbing conversation. He'd set off more of those sparks that she was absolutely certain didn't exist. Roman candles were lighting up under her skin, and firecrackers the size of atom bombs were going off near her heart.

She climbed into her Jeep, and with Zar riding shotgun, she drove back to the cabin.

o0o

Jo Beth had discovered that life was filled with small blessings. The cabin was one of them. When she had taken this assignment in Arizona, the magazine,
Wonders of the West,
had offered her accommodations in Tucson. That would have meant a lengthy drive out into the desert to do her photography every day. She'd called an old college friend, Jimmy Raifko, one of those men of perfect face and form whom she had dated back in the days when she still believed in falling in love.

He was happily married now, with two kids and a wife who played bridge on Tuesdays and bingo on Thursdays and who kept Jimmy's shirts white and his socks folded. To hear Jimmy tell it, the woman was a paragon. Jo Beth was happy that somebody had fallen in love, and she told him so.

He'd offered his cabin out of the goodness of his heart and for old times' sake. She'd accepted.

She parked the Jeep close to the old outdoor privy. She wondered if she'd ever see another outdoor toilet facility without thinking of Colter Gray Wolf. The great irony was that such a lowly place could call to mind such a magnificent image. Who would have thought that her first day in the desert she'd find an absolutely perfect man? A magnificent full-blooded Apache.

She shivered. She should have been worried about Indians instead of rattlesnakes.

Slinging her camera over her shoulder, she went into the cabin. Sara was knitting and Silas was reading.

Sara looked up from her work. “Did you have a good day, Jo Beth?”

“Great, Mom.” She leaned down and kissed both her parents on their cheeks. “Please don't wait supper on me. I want to develop this film.”

She hurried into the small storage room she'd set up as a darkroom. She rewound her film, took it out of the camera, and set to work. Some of the pictures she had taken for the magazine layout were good, but it wasn't cactus that claimed her attention. She held her breath as images began to form on the dark surface of the film. At first, it was only a faded outline, but gradually the picture came into full, dazzling focus. The landscape was of such breathtaking beauty, it almost made her cry. But it paled in comparison to the man who occupied it. Colter Gray Wolf.

She lightly traced his outline with her fingertips.

“You're too beautiful, Colter Gray Wolf. How many hearts have you broken?”

Plenty, she'd guess. He was as wild and passionate and mysterious as the ever-changing land.

She hung the pictures up to dry and left the darkroom.

o0o

Colter had a hard time sleeping that night. Seeing Jo Beth at the stream had brought back all the passions he'd tried to keep at bay. He was forty years old and had lived a full life. He worked hard, played hard, and loved hard. But never had he met a woman who had climbed so directly into his heart's cradle. It was almost as if she belonged there, as if the Father Creator had fashioned her for him and for no other.

That was absurd, of course. He was an educated, sophisticated man. He knew enough about human nature to know that physical attraction wasn't always love. But he was also Native American, and a strong believer in fate.

Rather than toss and turn, which he considered a foolish waste of time and energy, he rose from his blanket and walked under the stars. It was like being with old friends, for he knew them all, knew their names and their legends and their purpose.

When sleep began to claim him, he lay on his blanket again and fell into a deep, refreshing slumber.

o0o

He arose early, made his sparse breakfast, and climbed into an old but serviceable pickup truck, then headed toward Tucson.

Butch Langley watched his pickup truck coming up the winding driveway, past the creosote-dipped fence posts, past the herd of cattle, past the dog kennels, and into the barnyard where he was stacking hay.

He pushed his Stetson back on his head and mopped sweat from his brow. Colter descended from the truck, and Butch marveled again at how little his friend had changed from college days. He was still as fit and trim as he had always been, and hardly a line marked his face.

“Colter. What brings you out of the desert?”

“I hate to keep presuming on your friendship...”

“Don't be ridiculous. After you saved my wife's life. Hell, if I hadn't flown her to San Francisco, the doctors here would have let her die. Ask me for the moon, Colter. It's yours.”

“I need to borrow a horse.”

“Take your pick. Though I'd advise against that black stallion. He's a wild one.”

“Just the challenge I need.”

He and Butch worked together to hook up the horse trailer and load the prancing, pawing animal. When the horse was loaded, they leaned against the truck and drank tall glasses of lemonade, bought from the house by the smiling Madalena Langley.

“How much more vacation time do you have, Colter?” Madalena asked.

“Two more weeks, but I could fudge a little.”

“I still want to have a cocktail party for you.”

“If that's your sweet way of asking me when I'm coming out of the desert, I have to tell you that I don't know, Madalena.”

She patted his hand. “That's all right, Colter. I know you came out here to think, not to party. If we don't do it this time, we’ll do it the next time you visit.”

“You're a sweetheart.” Colter kissed her cheek, then turned to his friend. “Don't ever let her go, Butch.”

o0o

It was mid-afternoon by the time he got back to his camp at the foot of the mountains. He unloaded the big stallion and walked him around, letting the horse get used to him.