Читать книгу: «Forsaken Canyon»
“I don’t know what happened to your wife in Desolation Canyon,” Kit said, “but I am not her.”
Hawke closed the space between them. Hissing in a breath, Kit went rigid, leaning back so far she could easily topple over the sofa with the slightest movement. Through clenched teeth, he muttered, “Don’t you ever bring my wife up again.”
Her chin went up another notch. “Oh, I see. It’s okay for you to play unfair, but not me.”
He thrust his face close to hers. Panic flared in her eyes, but he didn’t back down. Too much was at stake. “This isn’t a game. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“You are not my keeper,” she said. “My work is very important to me, but I assure you I won’t take unnecessary risks.”
“So you’ve hiked in places like Desolation Canyon before?” he asked.
“Well, not exactly. If I had, I wouldn’t need you.”
Need you. Those words struck terror into his heart.
MILLS & BOON
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MARGARET DALEY
feels she has been blessed. She has been married more than thirty years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun. Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for over twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and participated in many sports with her students.
Margaret Daley
Forsaken Canyon
Blessed is that man that maketh the Lord his trust.
—Psalms 40:4
To Terri and Rene, thanks for
all the years of friendship
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EPILOGUE
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
PROLOGUE
The Guardian wished he hadn’t been forced to do this, but someone had to save Kit from her fiancé. She was just too naive and trusting.
Comfortably hidden in the shut-off balcony of the church, he lined up his sights on the rifle and aimed for the man’s heart. The sounds of the bridal march reverberated through the large nave. With precision and preparation he would succeed, and one day she would thank him.
Her fiancé stood on the steps to the altar, facing the center aisle. The smile the man gave Kit—as though he really loved her—chilled the Guardian. She deserved so much better.
Calmness descended as he adjusted his grip, checking his target. The sight of her nearing her fiancé prompted him into action. Taking a deep breath, he held it while fingering the trigger.
This is for you, Kit. He squeezed off the shot.
ONE
Kit Sinclair sat bolt upright in bed, darkness pressing in on all sides. Her lungs burned as she dragged air into them. The sound of her heart pounding thundered in her ears like the roar of a powerful storm.
Just another nightmare. I’m safe in my bedroom.
But the thought didn’t assuage the terror that constricted her chest as if she were standing in front of the altar right now. She could still see the red stain fanning outward on her fiancé’s snowy-white shirt, and Gregory’s hand reaching out to her. The screams in the church resounded through her mind. The scent of her fiancé’s blood filled her nostrils as though she were still holding his body clutched to her.
Will I ever be free of the memories, Lord?
She raked a wavering hand through her sweat-damp hair, then reached for the lamp on her bedside table. After two failed attempts, she finally managed to pull the chain, and a soft glow flooded the black recesses of her room. But her mind still remained in the clutch of darkness, had since the day her fiancé had been murdered right in front of her two years ago.
Glancing at her clock, she noted the time and realized she’d only gotten a few hours of sleep. She flipped back the sheet and climbed from the bed. She might as well work since she had to get up early anyway to drive from Albuquerque to her meeting in nearby Santa Maria Pueblo this morning.
Thankfully she had something to concentrate on other than her past. She could do nothing about what had happened, but she could prove her theory was right, hopefully with the help of Zach Collier’s cousin. If not she would find another way. Her job at the college depended on it.
Hawke Lonechief finished the dregs of his coffee and motioned for Anna, the owner of the café and his cousin, to refill it. “I’m gonna need it this morning.”
“Another all-nighter?”
“How can you tell?” Hawke took a tentative sip of the black brew, relishing its strong flavor, just the way he liked it, no sugar, no cream.
“Cousin, we grew up together. I know when you haven’t gotten any sleep. Do you ever see your mother?”
“Sure, we had dinner together two nights ago.” And his mother had basically read him the riot act, although in her case it was mainly said with her usual few words. She was worried about him. But, for him, working held the haunting memories at bay.
“You’re the chief of police, so why are you doing everything down at the station? What are the other officers for?”
Hawk shrugged. “What’s wrong with working?”
“Nothing, if in moderation. But you don’t know the meaning of the word.”
He grinned. “Sure I do. It means steering clear of any excesses. I don’t have time for excesses.”
“You don’t call nearly living at the station an excess?” She fluttered her hand in the air. “Nope. Don’t answer that. I never could change your mind while we were growing up. I don’t know why I even waste my breath trying to now.”
“I’m responsible for the safety and well-being of thousands of people. I don’t take that responsibility lightly.”
“And you shouldn’t, but what about your mother? Have you left Aunt Evelyn to fend for herself on the ranch?”
Stung by the rebuke of his well-meaning cousin, Hawke straightened in the booth and cupped the mug between his hands while he drank some more coffee. “Charlie’s wife got sick. Somebody had to take care of his small children. I couldn’t ask him to take his usual shift last night.”
Anna wagged her head. “There’s always something with you. Go home. Get some sleep.” She sent him a quizzical look. “You are going home, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am as soon as I meet with someone. Then home it is.”
“Good, because that ranch is too much for Aunt Evelyn alone.”
“That’s why I hired some more help.”
“Who?”
“Lighthorse’s oldest son, John.”
“Good. He’s reliable. She needs someone who is.”
“Ouch.” The persistent reproach in Anna’s voice needled Hawke. “As I told you, I have responsibilities I can’t shirk.”
“I know and we appreciate it. Crime is down at the pueblo since you took over as police chief. But we both know what this is really about.”
The door to the café opened, and a petite woman with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail entered. Hawke zeroed in on her, rather than continue the conversation, because there was no way he would get into a discussion with Anna about that.
The attractive woman scanned the tables and booths until she found him and then immediately headed in his direction. As he watched her move with assurance and economy, alarm bells—bells he usually listened to—went off in his mind. What had possessed him to agree to meet with this woman? He should have told his cousin Zach no.
Behind the pleasing features, he glimpsed a woman on a mission. The determined set to her chin and the focused look in her blue eyes alerted him to be wary. He didn’t need trouble. He’d had enough of that to last him two lifetimes.
Exhausted from no sleep in twenty-four hours, Hawke tried to paste a semblance of a smile on his face in greeting. Once he made a commitment, he didn’t back out no matter how much he wanted to. The corners of his mouth twitched in protest. He gave up and rose instead.
“Dr. Kit Sinclair?”
“Yes. You must be Zach’s cousin, Hawke Lonechief.” She grinned and took his hand to shake.
The brief, firm exchange didn’t relieve the tension building in his gut. He waved his arm toward the seat across from him. “Please, sit.”
After she slipped into the booth, Anna, who had been hovering on the side observing the meeting with more interest than Hawke would like, approached. “What can I get for you?”
“I’ve heard great things about your coffee here at the café from Zach Collier. That’s all I need.” That and the man across from me to agree to be my guide to Desolation Canyon.
“You know Zach?”
“I’m a professor of history at Albuquerque City College. We have worked together on a few projects.”
“Science and history working together?” The waitress poured a mug full of the wonderfully fragrant coffee.
“Thank you.” Kit lifted the cup to her mouth and drew in a deep breath of the aroma, one of the best smells in the world, especially since she tried to avoid sleeping as much as possible. She could use the whole pot after last night. “I helped Zach with some of the history behind his Aztec codices, at least the part that involved the Spanish conquistadors. That’s one of my specialties.”
Normally she wouldn’t go into so much detail except that she wanted the man across from her to know the information. Zach had told her Hawke Lonechief was the best person to help her, possibly the only one. He knew every square foot of Santa Maria Pueblo, and he could survive where most people couldn’t. The place she wanted to go to wasn’t called Desolation Canyon without reason. It was a hard, rough, barren land.
Like your life. The thought came unbidden into her mind. She shoved it away.
After the waitress left, Kit lounged back against the cushion, trying to relax her taut muscles. Even running through the mental relaxation technique a friend had taught her did nothing to alleviate the stress mounting in her as she got closer to discovering if her theory was right or not. Nor was imagining herself on top of a mountain, looking out over a beautiful vista right before the sun went down doing the trick—not when dark-brown eyes studied her with an intensity that stole her breath, her composure.
She did her own survey of the man. He was dressed in tan slacks and shirt with an emblem indicating he was a tribal police officer. His short black hair surprised her. She had pictured him with long hair on the hour drive from Albuquerque. What else would surprise her?
“Now that we have finished sizing each other up, why do you need a guide? Zach didn’t tell me much. Just that you two worked together and you were a friend.” Hawke finished his coffee and set it on the table.
Direct. She liked that. “I’m looking for evidence of the Lost City of Gold.”
“Who isn’t? But at Santa Maria Pueblo? I don’t think so.”
The territorial tone of his voice warned her this might not be an easy sell. “I think there was a lot of truth to the legend that sent Coronado all over the Southwest looking for it. Working with Zach, and what I discovered while in Spain researching the topic for my dissertation, has only reinforced my conviction, which has grown the past several years.”
One corner of Hawke’s mouth hitched up. “Sure. Who wouldn’t want to find a place so full of gold that all your worries would be taken care of.”
She stiffened at his mocking tone, but she realized that after all this time the tale did sound far-fetched. “I think there was a place that prompted the legend, but I’m not saying it exists today as it did five hundred years ago or that it was as grand as the story said. If it did, it probably would have been discovered.”
He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Do you make it a habit to go around telling people you’re looking for the Lost City of Gold?”
“No,” she said with a chuckle. “They would think I was mad.”
“Are you?”
“No. Sorry to disappoint you. I’m perfectly sane. But I need a guide, and Zach said you were the best, that you helped him and Maggie last year with the Aztec codices. I trust Zach’s opinion.”
“So you trust me?”
“Yes.” Did she have a choice?
“You shouldn’t.” His almost-black gaze drilled into her. “If there is a City of Gold out there and you’re looking for it, I wouldn’t trust anyone. People do a lot of nasty things for money.”
“To put your mind at rest, I haven’t advertised the fact in the Albuquerque newspaper.”
“That’s comforting, because after what Zach, Maggie and I, to a lesser degree, went through last year because of the codices, I would hate to see that happen to you.”
She inclined her head. “I’m touched by your concern.”
“If something happened to you at Santa Maria Pueblo, I would have to deal with it. That’s my job, not being a tour guide.”
His use of the word tour stung Kit. “I wouldn’t require much of your time. And, of course, I would pay for that time. I estimate five or six days to confirm if the remains of the Spanish mission are what I’m looking for.”
For a few seconds any emotion in his expression disappeared. Then a relentlessness scored his features. Tension vibrated in the air as he drew himself up, his large presence commanding. “Where do you expect to find these ruins?”
“The ruins are the ones you found a few years ago in Desolation Canyon. Zach told me about it a month ago when we were working on some background information for the new exhibit at the museum.” As she spoke, his expression turned to fury, as though a storm had swept into the café. This didn’t bode well for what she wanted. “Can you give me a few days of your—”
“No. I can’t.” He surged to his feet and tossed down some dollars. “Goodbye, Dr. Sinclair.”
As he stalked to the exit, Kit held her hands over the lukewarm coffee, trying to draw any warmth she could from it, because the temperature in the restaurant had definitely dropped twenty degrees in the past minute.
Desolation Canyon was in such a remote part of the reservation that few people visited there, and not usually because they wanted to. But why had he reacted like that? Did he know something about the canyon she didn’t?
Making a quick decision, she hurriedly paid for her drink and followed him outside. She had to know what she was getting into, because if he wouldn’t guide her, she would have to find someone who would. This was too important and could be a huge boost to her career.
Kit caught him scrambling into his Jeep. “Mr. Lonechief,” she called out from across the small parking lot on the side of the café.
He glanced at her and slammed his door shut. The next thing she heard was the roar of the engine. Brazenly she shot out in front of his vehicle before he put it into Drive, and blocked his path. He scowled as she came around to his window, her hand at all times on his Jeep as if she would cling to it if he sped away.
“What’s the problem with Desolation Canyon?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Besides being isolated, ruggedly harsh and not the latest tourist destination?”
“I know it won’t be an easy hike. But there’s something you aren’t telling me.”
He firmed his mouth into an even deeper frown. “Stay away from there.”
“Why?” She leaned toward him, her hands braced against his door.
A nerve in his jaw jerked. He stared forward for the longest moment, then muttered, “My wife died in that canyon. Now if you’ll excuse me, Dr. Sinclair, I’ve been up all night and need some sleep.” Hawke pointedly peered at her hands still on his Jeep door.
His revelation stunned her. It took a few seconds for a question to form in her mind. “How? What happened?”
Anger hardened his clenched jaw. He revved his engine.
“Will you at least recommend another guide?”
His expression blanked, leaving no indication of what he was thinking or feeling. “No.”
“You can’t be the only guide available!” She stepped back, because the scorch of his look convinced her not to try to stop him from leaving. She was only brave to a point.
“Stay away from there.” Hawke threw the black Jeep into Drive and screeched out of the parking lot.
Weary, she closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, his vehicle had vanished from her view. He must have broken a few laws getting away from her. If she weren’t so desperate for help, she would laugh about what just happened or cry at his revelation. But a couple of years ago she had determined emotions wouldn’t rule her life—ever again.
Her career was everything to her now. She was a researcher, more at home in a library surrounded by books, delving into the mysteries of the past. She couldn’t believe she had actually stood in front of his car to stop him from leaving. Woman of action had never been a description of her.
The lines and words on the map blurred together. Kit rubbed her eyes, but still her vision protested the hours spent researching in the college library. She wanted to make sure she knew all the history of Desolation Canyon and the best way into it. What she needed was a map with little dotted lines that led to the Spanish mission. The church was the key to the whereabouts of the City of Gold.
“Why am I not surprised to find you buried under a stack of books?” Dr. Zach Collier of the science department picked up a thick tome and read its title. “My, such a heavy topic about the climate conditions in the 1500s at such an early hour.”
“History of an area or time is more than people.”
“I imagine climate can have a huge impact on what happens through history. So how did the meeting with Hawke go yesterday?”
She frowned. “Not too well. He won’t be my guide.”
“I was afraid of that.” Zach slid into the chair across from her.
“Why didn’t you tell me his wife died in that canyon?”
Surprise widened Zach’s eyes. “He told you?”
“Yes. He didn’t know how else to get rid of me. What happened?”
“I don’t know much. I wasn’t living here at the time, and he won’t talk about it to anyone. Not even Evelyn will say anything. All I know is that it happened four years ago while he was home visiting his mother with his wife, Pamela.”
“Visiting? I thought he’d always lived here.”
“No. He went to college and law school at Yale. After he married Pamela, he became a junior partner in her father’s law firm in New York City. They came to New Mexico for a vacation, and on one of their hiking trips into the canyons northwest of here, Pamela fell from a cliff. Hawke only went back to New York to pack up his things.”
“It would have been helpful if I’d known that before I approached him.” Kit closed the volume she’d been studying.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t make a difference to Hawke. I thought the mention of the Lost City of Gold would prick his interest.”
“No, more like his derision.”
“Since the accident he hasn’t been the same. Evelyn doesn’t say much about it, but I know she’s worried about her son.”
“And you’re worried about him, too?”
“Yes, and he won’t let me help. He’s turned away from the Lord.”
“It’s sad how some people feel they have to wade through their problems by themselves. No one has to do that.” She remembered in the parking lot, before he’d driven away, the glimpse of hurt in his dark eyes that she instinctively knew he would deny.
“The Lord is always there for a person if he or she will only turn to Him.”
“True, and something I’m glad I’ve done.” Kit checked her watch. “I have a class in an hour and still have to look over my notes.” Rising, she gathered up the books before her.
Zach came to his feet. “What are you going to do now about going to the canyon?”
“Find another guide. Because after looking over a map of the area, I know I can’t do it alone. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone else who could do the job?”
“Not like Hawke. Sorry.”
“I’ll find someone. I’m not going to let this stop me.”
“I didn’t think it would, but be careful. That’s rough, isolated country.”
“First your cousin warns me and now you. It’s just another canyon, not some evil place.”
“I agree places aren’t evil, but people are. Be careful who you tell you’re looking for the Lost City of Gold. With Hawke you can be up front, but with others you shouldn’t.”
Kit chuckled. “Zach Collier, I appreciate your concern, but I’ve been on my own now for a while. I know how to take care of myself.” She’d had to learn how to do that because there was no way she would ever become involved with another man. After Gregory’s murder, she’d decided she would have to be satisfied with being single. That was when she had come to the conclusion her career would be her life.
He raised his hands, palms out. “My wife would be furious if I didn’t warn you.”
“Tell Maggie hi for me, and let her know I’ll call her soon. See you.” She carried the stack of books to the counter.
“Kit, did you find everything you were looking for today?” Samuel White, the research librarian who was always such a big help to her, pushed the books to the side.
“Yes and no. There’s a part missing, but I haven’t figured out what yet. Just as soon as I do, I’ll have you do a search for me in the network. I know we don’t have it here.”
“Just let me know, and I’ll find what you need.”
“Thanks.”
Another quick glance at her watch told her she would be late if she didn’t hurry. However, outside she couldn’t resist pausing for a few seconds and scanning the campus. A beautiful day. The bright sunlight lifted her spirits after the conversation with Zach, as though the Lord had orchestrated it just for her.
Multicolored flowers bloomed in the gardens that greeted the students as they entered the library. Tall maple trees lined the long walk that led to its main entrance, offering a person a cool reprieve from the heat. She wished she had time to enjoy the perfect spring day, but she quickly headed toward the history building, not far from the library.
Zach hadn’t given her much hope of convincing Hawke to be her guide, so she was left with only one option: to find another one. After class she had some thinking and planning to do.
When she arrived at her office, she found Dr. Wes Stanford waiting by her door. “Good morning.”
He smiled, his white teeth standing out against his tanned face. “I saw you from my window coming into the building. I thought this would be a good time for me to get that article you wanted me to read.”
“Let me find it.” She unlocked her door and entered. “I brought it from home a few days ago after we talked about it.” She rummaged through the piles on her desk and discovered the copy at the bottom of one of them.
“I’m always amazed at your resources.” Wes took it from her outstretched hand.
Shrugging, she stepped back to allow more space between them. “I love researching and collect everything I can get my hands on that has to do with history, especially early-American history, before we were a country.”
“I’d like to take you to lunch as a way of thanking you for all your help. How about after your ten-o’clock class today?”
“You don’t have to do that, Wes. I’m glad to help you any way I can.” She leaned back against her desk, aware of her notes that she wanted to read over sitting behind her just waiting for her. But Wes was a friend and the newest history professor on staff. “After all, I’ve got a vested interest in your career since I was your graduate advisor. It’s good to see how well you’re doing.”
“After that, I think I should scratch lunch plans and take you to dinner instead.” Wes moved closer.
Sweat glazed her forehead and upper lip. He’d invaded her personal space, although there was at least a foot between them. But with the desk behind her, she had little room to maneuver away. She offered him a trembling smile. “I wish I could, but I’m swamped right now. Maybe another time.”
“Sure.” He backed up, his grin wavering for a few seconds before he reinforced it.
Kit inhaled a deep breath and relaxed her grip on the edge of her desk. When he left, she slipped into the chair nearby, her legs weak. Why hadn’t she seen his interest before? Maybe she was jumping to the wrong conclusion, and it was only appreciation for what she’d helped him with during the three years of their close association, first as a graduate student and now as a professor.
She liked Wes; she saw the same appreciation for history as she had, but that was all she would ever feel toward any man—friendship. Discovering Gregory’s betrayal on top of dealing with his murder had nearly sent her over the edge. The Lord and her friends had managed to hold her together, but she didn’t want to go through that kind of loss ever again.
She caught sight of her notes on her desk and stood. She still needed to reread them before her class. Afterward, she would tackle the problem of finding a guide.
A bright shaft of light slanted across Hawke’s desk at the police station. He finished the report and slapped the folder closed. Time to go home. He needed to check and see if his new ranch hand was working out. Anna was right, not that he would ever tell her. He should pay more attention to the family ranch and make sure his mother wasn’t burdened with too much work.
He started to rise from his chair, but the phone ringing stopped him in midaction. He sank back down and snatched up the receiver. “Lonechief.”
“Hawke—”
He instantly recognized Zach’s voice and sat up straight, remembering whom his cousin had sent to him only a couple of days ago.
“Maggie and I want you to come to dinner at our house before the dedication of the Collier/Somers Wing of the museum.”
“I forgot about the dedication. It’s this Saturday night?”
“Yes, in just two days. I’m glad I called to remind you. Is Evelyn coming?”
“She wouldn’t miss it for the world, but Albert is bringing her.”
“Albert Cloudwalker? Doesn’t he own the trading post by the highway into Albuquerque?”
“Yes, and yes, Mama has been seeing him.”
“Interesting.”
There was a wealth of questions in that one word. “I’m glad she’s seeing someone finally.”
A long pause, then, “I wish you would reconsider taking Kit to Desolation Canyon.”
Hawke had known that Zach would approach him about this, but it didn’t make any difference. He wouldn’t go to the canyon again. He couldn’t. Not there. “What time is dinner?”
“Six, since the dedication ceremony is at eight. And I get the point. No more talking about Kit and Desolation Canyon.”
“I’ve always said you were the smart one in the family, that is, after your grandfather.”
“I take that as a compliment. Red was exceptional.”
“See you Saturday.” Hawke hung up, staring at the pool of sunlight warming his desk.
A picture of a no-nonsense woman with long blond hair and blue eyes materialized in his mind. The determination he’d glimpsed in her worried him. He wouldn’t put it past her to try to find someone else to take her into the canyon. The only other person capable of doing that was his uncle. Thankfully Gus lived halfway between here and the canyon, and he rarely came into town. Even if he did, Hawke wasn’t concerned Gus would agree to guide the professor into that maze of ravines and mesas. His uncle was a hermit and hated to be around people. Gus only tolerated Hawke for short periods of time because he took him his supplies every couple of months. But everything he’d learned about the land was from his uncle.
Tired, Hawke flattened his hands on his desktop and pushed himself to his feet. Even if she tried to find someone, she wouldn’t.
He headed toward the door and left the station before something came up to keep him there. Yes, he worked a lot of hours, but he knew when he needed to sleep. With long strides he covered the distance to his Jeep quickly and climbed inside.
As he pulled out of the parking space in front of the tribal police station, he peered both ways down the lengthy street that ran through the heart of the small town of San Angelo. His gaze lit upon a woman coming out of Anna’s café, and he braked. He watched Dr. Kit Sinclair stroll toward the red Honda parked in front.
Almost as though his arms and legs had a mind of their own, he made a U-turn and drove toward the café.
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