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“You mean, you’ve been doing work like they do in the Peace Corps?” he asked incredulously.
One corner of her full lips curled upward. “Hard to believe, isn’t it? Me washing clothes in a galvanized tub on a rub board and handing out food and medicine to people who rarely see a white woman.”
Quito’s eyes slipped up and down her tall figure. She was slender, but there was also a fit look about her that said she hadn’t just been sitting on a couch eating chocolates. His eyes darted to her hands and this time he noticed her nails were cut short.
“Actually, it is. I can’t see you living in some dirt hut in the jungle.”
She laughed softly and he could see that surprising him had pleased her greatly. “I’ve been in jungles and deserts, mountains and cities, doing all sorts of work with my own two hands.”
“Why? You could just donate money,” he reasoned.
She shook her head and the sunlight rippled over her blond hair. “Not for me. Giving money isn’t the same as giving of yourself. And anyway, after the divorce, I wanted to get away from Houston.”
“A bad parting?” His eyes darted over her elusive expression.
Bad, Clementine thought with a strong urge to let out a mocking laugh. Her parting with Niles Westcott had been worse than bad, the divorce had been horrendous and now, well, she lived in fear every day of her life.
“Terrible. The only thing good about it was that there were no children to hurt.”
He was quiet for a long time and then he asked, “Why no children? I thought you always said you wanted to have several children?”
Clementine could no longer look at him. The pain in her heart had to be showing in her eyes and she couldn’t let him see. She couldn’t let him guess what a mess she’d made of her life.
Looking down at the valley stretching before them, she sighed. “That’s true. I did want children. But Niles turned out to be a far different man than I thought. I didn’t want to have a child with him. He would have made a horrible father.”
“Damn it all, Clementine. If that’s the way you felt, then why did you marry the man?”
A tear slipped from her eye and she wiped it away as she turned her head to look at him. “Because I thought I was doing the right thing.”
He shook his head and then he simply looked at her as though he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to curse or cuddle her.
Finally he moved a step closer and Clementine’s heart began to pound out of control.
“You thought you were doing the right thing when you walked away from me,” he murmured.
With a muffled cry, she suddenly stepped forward and buried her face in the middle of his chest.
“Forgive me, Quito. Please forgive me.”
Chapter Three
His fingers pushed into her silky hair and he stroked the back of her head soothingly.
“Clementine, whatever you’re thinking, I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.” He bent his head and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. “You were very young then. And there’s no need to rehash the past now. Just because we were once lovers doesn’t mean we can’t be friends now. Hmm?”
Clementine wanted to slip her arms around him and hold him for long, long moments. She wanted to breathe in that remembered scent of his skin and hair, feel the strength of his arms curling around her. But she couldn’t invite or provoke any sort of affection from this man. She loved him too much to make his life miserable a second time.
After a minute or so, his forefinger came under her chin and he tilted her face up to his. Clementine blinked the moisture from her eyes and struggled to smile at him.
“Of course we can be friends, Quito. I’d like that very much.”
“Good. I’d like it, too.”
Her eyes slid to his mouth and her stomach began to flutter as though the wings of thousands of birds were taking flight inside of her.
“Uh, maybe we’d better go down now,” she told him. “I’m sure you’re getting tired.”
Their eyes met and she licked her lips. Quito cleared his throat and stepped back.
“Yeah. It’s time I got back to town. Or my deputies will be sending out a search party.”
The two of them stepped back into the bedroom and Quito latched the sliding door behind him. After they’d gone downstairs and were about to leave the foyer, Quito asked, “What are you going to do with the place? Sell it?”
Clementine finished cuing in the alarm system, then opened the door.
“I’m not sure. I came up here with intentions of putting it on the market. But now that I see it, I don’t know, it still seems like home. Doesn’t that sound silly? It’s been eleven years since I stepped foot on the place, yet in many ways it seems like only yesterday.”
Quito couldn’t admit to her that it felt the same way to him. Each time he looked at Clementine, it felt as if nothing had changed. No years had passed. He felt like he still had the right to pull her into his arms and kiss her as many times as he wanted. But he had to remember that everything had changed.
“Well, you did live here for three years,” he reasoned.
“Yes, but compared to eleven that’s not very many,” she replied.
The two of them left the porch and walked down the long wide steps that would take them off the cliff side and onto the flat, parking area.
Quito made the trip going down much more easily and when they reached the vehicles she was relieved to see that his breathing seemed normal.
“It’s obvious you’re not staying here,” Quito said as they walked to her car first. “Did you find a place in town?”
She nodded. “The Apache Junction Hotel. But who knows, I might clean up part of this place and stay for a few days.” She glanced wistfully around her. “It would be nice to vacation in the cooler, dryer air for a while. When I left Houston, the city was under a hurricane watch.” And not just from the weather, either, she thought, grimly.
She’d heard from the little birds she kept on lookout that Niles had been hunting everywhere for her. Thankfully he hadn’t learned that she’d gone to Afghanistan and her time there had been relatively peaceful. She only wished she could have a few days here in San Juan county before he caught on to her trail.
“There’s nothing stopping you from staying is there?” he asked.
She swallowed hard as he reached down and opened the car door for her. “No. Not really,” she lied. “I do have another trip planned soon to South America, some of the mountain villages there. This time I’m hoping to get a driver and a truck full of food and medicine through the bandits that control the areas. We tried once before and they stopped us with machine guns and forced us to hand the goods over to them.”
“Hell fire, Clementine, you could be killed going off on such ventures,” he cursed.
She slid behind the steering wheel, then lifted a steady gaze to his.
“I could get killed in Houston, too.”
He frowned and sensing he was going to start asking her questions that she didn’t want to answer, she started the engine.
Quito shut the door to the sleek black, sports car and stepped back. “Will I see you again before you leave?”
It wouldn’t be wise. She would eventually pay for these few minutes she’d spent with him this morning. The short time was already burned into her memory and once she returned to Houston, she would relive them over and over like a spinster reliving her first and only kiss.
“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “Do you want to?”
A devilish smile suddenly crooked his mouth and he bent his head through the open window and kissed her.
The intimate contact had been the last thing she expected. And for a moment she was stunned motionless as his lips made a gentle foray over hers and then slowly, her mouth opened and her hand came up to cup the side of his face.
How could it be that the taste of him, the feel of his lips were so sweetly the same? she wondered. And how could it be that she still wanted him so badly?
By the time he pulled his head back slightly from hers, she could feel her pulse beating wildly in her temples, like a drum warning her to stop, stop, stop.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She thought he was moving way too fast. She even thought he might be trying to make of fool of her, to hurt her for walking away all those years ago. But Quito had never been a spiteful person and there didn’t seem to be any hidden motives in his eyes, only a bit of lust.
“All right,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I’ll take you out for dinner tomorrow night. Can you make it?”
Smiling, he stepped back from the car. “You can call me at the office,” he told her. “I’m usually there until six.”
She nodded then waved goodbye and raised the window. Thankfully the glass was tinted darkly and hid the worried expression on her face as she drove away.
The next morning Quito was sitting at his desk signing off on a request for two arrest warrants when his secretary, Juliet, buzzed the intercom. “Sir, Dr. Hastings is on line two. Can you speak with her?”
Quito frowned. The under sheriff’s wife was a medical doctor and had a thriving practice in a small clinic just a few blocks away from the department. Although she’d been a longtime friend, he couldn’t imagine why she would want to speak to him this morning. Unless she wanted to talk to him about Jess.
“Yes, I’ll get it, Juliet.” He reached for the phone. “Good morning, Victoria. What gives me the pleasure of hearing your voice this morning?”
“Hi, Quito. I know you’re busy, but I’m keeping a promise. Your doctor in Farmington called and asked if I would give you a checkup. He’s leaving town and won’t be back for a couple of weeks. Apparently your checkup was due today, is that right?”
“Hell, I don’t know. Just a minute.” He flipped open an appointment book. “Yeah. Here it is. It’s this afternoon. Juliet would have probably reminded me, but I’d forgotten.”
Victoria chuckled. “That’s what we have secretaries for, Quito.” She paused, then said, “Let’s see, it looks like this morning I’ve got a space between patients. Can you be over here in fifteen minutes?”
Quito straightened up in his chair. “You really weren’t kidding?”
“Of course I wasn’t kidding. Did you think this was just a ploy to get you over here so I could see your chest?” she teased.
“That’s just it. Jess might not like you looking at me in such a—personal way.”
Victoria laughed again. “I’ve got a news flash for you, Quito. Jess knows that I look at men’s bodies every day. He’s used to it. Now quit making excuses and get over here.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll be there. But I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it,” she cheerily replied, then promised, “I’ll try to end your suffering as quickly as I can.”
Quito assured her that she’d see him in a few minutes, then hung up the phone.
By car, the doctor’s office was less than two minutes away. When he entered the clinic there were several patients seated in the outer waiting room. He walked over to the receptionist, expecting her to tell him to have a seat and wait like the rest, but instead she jerked her thumb toward the back where the examination rooms were located.
“Go on back to Room 2, Sheriff. She’s waiting on you.”
He found Victoria in the square, sterile looking room. The tall brunette was dressed in a white lab coat and standing at a small counter scribbling something on a chart. When she looked up, she smiled at him.
“I wish all my patients were this prompt,” she said and gestured toward the examining table. “Have a seat, Quito, get comfortable and remove your shirt. This isn’t going to hurt.”
He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders as she adjusted the earpieces of her stethoscope.
“Maybe not,” he said. “But it’s silly. Dr. Holloway knows I’m on the mend. What is there to look at anyway?”
“Be quiet and let me listen,” she ordered as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.
Victoria Hastings was a young, beautiful woman and as she thumped and probed and ordered him to breathe deeply, he could only wonder why it was that she, nor any other woman, ever affected him the way Clementine did. Why did he only feel that pull of attraction when he thought about or looked upon the blond Texas beauty?
Eventually Victoria put away her stethoscope and handed him his shirt. “Okay, Sheriff Perez, you’re finished. I pronounce you fit.”
He looked at her with surprise. “You mean, I can go off light duty now? I can do anything I want?”
Her smile turned wry. “Within reason,” she said. “Just don’t try to tear out any old fence posts. Or ride a bucking bronc. On the other hand, you should be walking as much as you can to help your lungs get back to full strength.”
“I’ll try,” he told her as he buttoned his shirt.
“You’re a lucky man, Quito. A lesser man would have died from the wounds you suffered.”
He shook his head. “I’m not any tougher than the next guy, Victoria. It was all those candles that were lit for me. All the prayers said.”
Smiling, she patted him on the shoulder. “I think you’re probably right, Quito.” She looked at him with thoughtful concern. “How have you been doing otherwise? Nightmares? Trouble sleeping?”
“It’s getting better,” he said. Although, he didn’t admit to lying awake most of the night last night. That problem had occurred because his mind had been consumed with Clementine, not the thug who’d shot him full of holes.
“I can prescribe something for you if you need it. Just let me know,” she offered. “Or if you need to talk to someone other than a man wearing a badge, just pick up the phone and call me.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Victoria. I’ll remember that.”
She folded her arms across her chest and looked at him with renewed interest. “Uh, now that we’ve got the medical stuff out of the way, I heard through the grapevine that Clementine Jones is back in town. Is that right?”
His gaze slipped to the toes of his black cowboy boots. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Have you seen her yet?”
He nodded. “We spent a little time together yesterday,” he admitted. He lifted his gaze back to Victoria. “Have you seen her?”
Victoria shook her head. “No. Where is she staying? Out at the Jones house?”
“No. She’s at the Apache Junction.”
Frowning, Victoria said, “That’s not necessary. I’ll see if she wants to come out to the ranch and stay with us while she’s here. Uh, how long does she plan to stay?”
The question caused him to stiffen inside, but he tried to sound as casual as he could as he answered, “I don’t know. Probably not long.”
Victoria’s brows lifted ever so slightly and Quito wanted to curse. The woman was just too sharp. No doubt she’d picked up on the tinge of bitterness in his voice.
