Ride the Rainbow Home (3 page)

She stared, sure she should know the face, but unable to fit it to the body, or the name. Then she knew.

"Jimmy? Little Jimmy McAllister?" She barely recognized her own voice as it poured out like honey.

He stepped forward, reaching as if to embrace her, but then he let his hands drop to his sides. "It's great to see you."

"I, uh . . ." Words eluded her. "You are Little Jimmy, aren't you?"

He grinned, absently toweling his splendid chest. "Yeah, but no one calls me little anymore."

"No." She couldn't stop her eyes from doing a thorough, appreciative inventory. "I can see why not. What happened?''

"I grew." He shrugged. "We McAllisters are late bloomers." He returned the scrutiny. "The years have been good to you, too." The moment thickened as the onetime friends studied each other. "What are you doing back in Rainbow Rock?" Jim asked as he toweled his arms, hands, and throat.

Meg followed his hands with her eyes, suddenly imagining the feel of that warm skin. She flushed. "I, uh, I came to help Sally with her babies. I'm staying with the Garcias."

"That's good," Jim said. "Sally can use the help. I can't understand why she didn't mention you, though."

Meg was wondering the same thing. "My plans were only certain a couple of days ago. I asked her not to tell anyone I was coming."

"Not even the third musketeer?" His look sizzled through her, warmer than the July afternoon.

Meg gulped to catch her breath. "I didn't realize you'd still be around. Didn't you go away to school?"

"Arizona State," he answered, nodding. "Tempe isn't that far away."

"Then you came back?" Meg looked around her. "To here?"

Jim's grin straightened. "I came home."

Moments and years yawned between them, reminders of differences too wide to span. Meg sighed. "So you're working on the farm again?"

Jim's features tensed, an expression so brief Meg wasn't sure she'd seen it. "No. I help out occasionally, but my brother Chris is the farmer, and Kurt helps too. I'm more into commerce, myself. And you? What are you up to these days?"

"Management training, a consultant with Montgomery Adams Seminars."

"Now that sounds like the Peggy Taylor I remember."

"I'm called Meg now."

"Meg?" He tasted the name. "That doesn't sound like you."

She smiled indulgently. "It's all that sounds like me anymore--to me, anyway."

Again the silence stretched. "Say, are you busy this evening?"

"Tonight?" Meg tried to concentrate. "I don't have any plans after the picnic. That is, unless you count Tommy's bath and Isabel's bedtime story."

"That's quite a domestic streak you're developing." His amused look did odd things to the pit of her stomach.

She smiled, forcing herself to relax. "I'm afraid this is a case of 'looks can be deceiving.' I can cope with the older two, but the babies still scare me half to death. I'm glad their mother is constantly within reach. I never tended anyone under five before."

"Sounds like you could use a break. Think you can sneak away for a couple of hours? Most of the town's driving into Holbrook to see the fireworks." As naturally as if he did it every day, he reached up and picked a bit of mulberry leaf from her hair. The action brought him close, close enough that Meg could feel his body heat. "I'd like to take you. To the fireworks, I mean. Maybe we could talk over old times."

Meg's stalled heart resumed beating and shifted into high gear. "I'd love to go, if Sally can spare me. She and Frank have taken the kids for watermelon. I'm supposed to be melting--uh, meeting them there about now."

"Why don't I meet you there? As soon as I put something on."

Meg resisted the impulse to tell him to come as he was. "That sounds fine," she managed.

"See you then," he said as he strode away.

Most of a minute passed before Meg remembered to blink, but then she forced her feet into action. Who would have thought Little Jimmy McAllister would turn into such a model for a new Michelangelo? Or that he'd still be in Rainbow Rock? Or that he'd exude such... such power? She drifted toward the watermelon booths, surprised to notice how low the sun had sunk.

Sally looked up as she approached. "Well, there you are! We'd about given you up."

"I bumped into 'Little Jimmy' McAllister." Meg couldn't resist the sarcasm.

Sally grinned mischievously. "Looks good, doesn't he?"

"Brad Pitt should look so good!" Meg collapsed on the bench.

"Brad Pitt isn’t here," Sally observed dryly. "Maybe the three of us could get together sometime, talk over old times."

"Jimmy, er, Jim said the same thing, except he suggested a twosome at the fireworks in Holbrook. Sally, would you mind?"

"Are you kidding? Go! Enjoy! Frank'll help me with the kids, won't you, sweetheart?"

"Sure, babe." Frank leaned over the table and kissed Sally soundly. "Go, Meg. I wouldn't mind having the evening alone with my wife." He wrapped her in a possessive bear-hug and Sally giggled.

"Looks like I'm interrupting something." Jim arrived looking splendid in white jeans and a turquoise polo shirt. "Don't mind me," he said as Sally turned to acknowledge him. "Just go on with, uh, whatever you two were doing." He grinned broadly as he sat beside Meg, easily slipping an arm behind her on the table.

Sally extricated herself from the clutches of her husband. "Meg tells me you're going to take her into Holbrook for the show tonight."

"If it's okay with you two."

"More than okay," Sally said.

"Sounds good to me," Frank added.

Jim looked to Meg, who smiled dreamily. "Me too." Was that her voice? It sounded like an infatuated teen’s, all giggly and breathless.

"That's settled then." Sally dismissed them with an easy gesture. "Go have fun at the fireworks. Then maybe we can all get together later this week."

"It's a date," Jim said. "You ready Peggy, er, Meg?"

"Sure Jimmy, er, Jim." Meg fell into step beside the golden man who had been her girlhood pal. She had never been so
ready
in her life.

Chapter Two

The sun nestled into the San Francisco Peaks near Flagstaff, gilding the sagebrush and greasewood in burnished tones. Meg leaned forward in the cab of Jim's truck, eagerly watching the road as they drove toward Holbrook. "So much has changed," she said, "and so little. Everything looks just as I remembered it."

"You've been away a long time." Jim's voice was quiet.

"Yes." Meg looked out the window. "This place never meant the same things to me as it did to you. The wonder to me is that you could stay here."

"Was it that bad?"

“Do you really need to ask? You remember the kids who called me Piggy and worse. They were just as tough on you."

"On Sally too, but she stayed."

Meg shrugged. "Sally fell in love."

The expression on Jim's face made her wish she hadn't said it. "I guess that made the difference," he said.

Not wishing to explore the source of the tension that suddenly stretched between them, Meg opted for a question. "So what about you, Jimmy--uh, Jim? Why did you come back?"

"I told you. I came home."

Meg sighed. "I don't understand."

"Apparently not," he said without rancor.

She smiled brightly. "So do you think you could explain? Enlighten an old friend?"

He grinned that adorable, lopsided smile that made Meg want to catch her breath. "I can try, but home is home. If you don't feel it, no one can explain it to you."

Maybe not
, Meg thought with longing,
but I'd like to try. I'd like to know what home feels like
. "Give it a shot," she said aloud. "See what happens."

"Well, for starters, my family's here."

"You McAllisters always seemed close."

"We are. Everybody's still in the area and I couldn't see being somewhere else when the people I love are here."

"That makes sense."
And I wish I had it.
Meg had to stifle the sudden sense of longing.

"And my work's here too."

"What is it you do, anyway? I know you said you're into commerce. What does that mean, exactly?"

"You know, basic trade, buying and selling." Now it was Jim's turn to look out at the darkening sky. "But it's more than just my family or my work, Meg. There's just something about the high desert. The stark beauty of this place--" He paused and swallowed. "I can't find it anywhere else. It's home. That's all."

The passion in his voice stirred her. "I can see it means a lot to you." She paused, weighing her next words. "I've never felt that way about any place." She shrugged. "Guess I never stayed anywhere long enough. Rainbow Rock was the longest I ever lived anywhere, and that was just five years."

"Then I'm sorry for you. Everybody needs a home."

They drove in silence, passing through Holbrook and continuing southward. Just out of town Jim turned the truck onto a side road, joining an informal parade of vehicles. "They do the fireworks here by the county buildings." He pulled up next to a uniformed man with a flashlight. "They shoot off the rockets from the bluff back there," he explained as he backed into a space on the desert floor.

"Then aren't we turned the wrong way?"

"City girl," Jim said, shaking his head. "We'll sit in the bed of the truck. It's a better view."

Meg was game. "Okay." She opened her door and got out, noting that other pickup trucks and some station wagons also followed the local etiquette. "Do I just climb into the back?"

"Come on. I'll give you a boost."

Jim's nearness suddenly made her edgy. "I don't think I'll need a boost," she said quickly. "I'll just sit here on the tailgate and swing in." She did it as she spoke.

"You looked very natural doing that," Jim complimented. "Maybe there's something of the country left in you after all." He scooted up beside her. "Do you sit in pickup trucks in wherever you're from now?"

"Walnut Creek, California," she answered, "and no, I can't say I do. Not many management consultants drive pickups."

"They don't know what they're missing." He smiled, his face close enough to leave Meg breathless.

"So what do we do now?" she asked, eager to break the spell.

"Hang around until it gets dark enough for the show to start," Jim answered, turning toward the west, "unless you want to turn this way and see the show nature's giving for free."

Meg followed his gaze and gasped. "Oh, Jim, it's lovely! I'd forgotten about desert sunsets." The intensity of the color was surprising, the deep copper-reds and soft purples of the earth reflected in the changing kaleidoscope of the sky.

"Yes, lovely," Jim murmured near her ear. She shivered with delight.

They sat together, watching the colors fade as the night deepened, the intense shades becoming softer pastels. The quiet moment gave Meg a chance to collect her flitting thoughts. She had enjoyed the easy friendship she'd always shared with "Little Jimmy" McAllister. But she found herself hesitant, uncertain whether she could be as easy and natural with this new Jim.
Steady
, she reminded herself
. He's here, and you're going back to Walnut Creek. Soon.

Meg was still admiring the sky when a garrulous giggle alerted her to the presence of Kimberly McCray. Instantly the hairs on the back of her neck stiffened.

" 'Evening, Jim," Kimberly practically purred as Meg turned to face her.

" 'Evening, Kim," Jim replied flatly as he leaned nearer to Meg.

"Good evening." Kim looked pointedly at Meg.

"Perhaps you remember Meg Taylor?" Jim asked. "You might have known her as Peggy."

"Peggy?" Kim's stare was incredulous. "You're Peggy Taylor?"

"Hello, Kim. Nice to see you," Meg lied easily.

"Yes," Kim said, her look belying the honey in her voice. "It's nice to see you, Peggy."

"Meg," she corrected quickly.

"Meg," Kim responded, then, with a speculative look at Jim, she asked, "Will you be staying long, Meg?"

"A while," Meg answered.

"Well." The simple statement said much. "Do enjoy the show."

"Thank you," Jim said, sliding his arm possessively around Meg's shoulder. "We will."

Meg barely contained a snicker as Kim sauntered away. "You certainly wrecked her evening," she said as soon as the sultry blonde was out of earshot.

"Kim's always on the make," he said, indulging in a catlike stretch, his long body practically filling the bed of the truck. The move took his arm away from her; Meg instantly missed his warmth.