MM02 - Until Morning Comes Read online

  “It's Silas this and Silas that.... Silas come and Silas go.” He left his rocking chair, muttering all the way to the door.

  Jo Beth smiled at Colter. “He didn't remember a thing. You're safe here.”

  His gaze raked over her. “I'm not too sure about that.”

  Shivers crawled up her spine, and she couldn't blame them on indigestion.

  “I can guarantee it,” she said.

  “I've found that life has very few guarantees.”

  They assessed each other again, two wary wildcats, and then they washed up and joined her parents at the dinner table. Jo Beth discovered that Colter Gray Wolf was very adept at keeping dinner-table conversation interesting and lively. She guessed he'd had lots of practice at that sort of thing out in San Francisco. She also noticed that he was patient and extraordinarily compassionate when her father ventured off into one of his fantasies.

  While her parents were in the kitchen getting dessert, she leaned closer to him.

  “You have quite a bedside manner, Dr. Gray.”

  “That's what all the women say to me.”

  “And a sense of humor, too, I might add.”

  “In my profession, it helps.”

  “I can understand that—dealing with hundreds of sick people. It's hard enough dealing with only one. It breaks my heart to see Dad this way.” Instinctively her hand balled into a fist.

  Colter covered her hand, which lay on the white tablecloth, and gently unclenched her fingers, one by one.

  “He's not in pain, Jo Beth. He's not even aware that his words and actions are inappropriate and sometimes foolish. In your perception, he is a prisoner of his failing mind, but to him, everything seems normal. That's a compensation of our Father Creator.”

  “Other doctors have told me that, but none so beautifully as you. Thank you.”

  “It's the least I can do. After all, if you hadn't come along, I'd probably have spent the rest of my natural life in that outdoor privy.”

  Her smile was his reward, and almost his downfall. When she smiled she looked like a mischievous angel. He didn't need any blond angels in his life right now. It was already complicated enough.

  “Who wants cherry pie?”

  Colter would be forever grateful to Sara McGill for chosing that moment to come through the door. If she hadn't, he might have done something rash, such as run his fingers through Jo Beth's hair to see if it was as silky as it looked.

  Silas was not far behind Sara. “You wouldn't believe the trouble I had getting those cherries. Why, I had to take my twelve-gauge gun and shoot the derned tree into submission. And while I was out killing cherries, I ran upon this Indian by the creek....” He stopped speaking in midsentence and looked at Colter. “Jezebel's jewels! It's Toronto! Jo Beth, hide in the closet. Sara, where's my gun?”

  Silas dropped the dessert plates to the floor, and then stared down at the broken dishes as if he couldn't figure out where they'd come from.

  Jo Beth turned to her mother. “Toronto?”

  Sarah shrugged. “Yesterday, Rooster Cogburn; today, the Lone Badger.”

  Hearing his name, Silas started around the table toward Colter.

  Jo Beth intercepted him. “Now, Dad, this man is not Toronto. He's our guest. Don't you remember? Dr. Colter Gray.”

  She caught his arm, but although he was seventy-six years old, Silas was still strong. He broke loose and launched himself at Colter.

  “I took you prisoner. How did you escape?”

  “Dad, I—”

  Colter shook his head at her. He stood up and held the old man's shoulders. “You were very brave to capture me like that. Most men don't have the courage you do.”

  “I'm brave, all right. You didn't think of that when you got out of the outhouse to mess with my daughter, did you?” He twisted his head to look at his wife. “Sara, help me get this prisoner back in the outhouse where he belongs.”

  “I'm begging you for mercy, Mr. McGill.” Colter spoke with the sincerity of a contrite prisoner. “You look like a just man. If you'll let me leave, I promise that I will disappear into the desert, and you'll never see me again.”

  “We could have made a good team, you and me, but I didn't count on you getting sweet on my daughter. She's just sixteen. I don't want some derned savage taking her captive.”

  “I promise I will not take your daughter captive.”

  “You won't touch her?”

  “No.”

  “Then you can go.”

  “Let's seal the bargain with a handshake.”

  Colter checked Silas's pulse under the guise of shaking his hand. It was a little fast, but not alarming. And his eyes didn't look so wild now. Cautiously, he released the man and stepped back.

  Jo Beth started toward him, but he shook his head and continued his walk toward the front door. He didn't even say, “Thank you for dinner,” for fear of setting Silas McGill off again.

  He didn't make a sound as he walked from the dining room and through the den. He moved so swiftly and quietly, they didn't even hear the squeaky screen door close behind him.

  Jo Beth stared after him for five seconds before turning her attention back to her father. He was sitting calmly at the table, cutting himself a huge hunk of cherry pie, his prisoner already forgotten now that he was out of sight.

  “Have some pie, Jo Beth. And whatever happened to your guest? Didn't he stay for dessert?”

  “No, Dad. He had to leave early.” She glanced toward her mother. “Mom?”

  “Go after him, darling.”

  Jo Beth ran toward the door, stopping in the den long enough to jerk the Jeep keys off the top of the sideboard. By the time she reached the front porch, she was breathless. Nerves, that's what it was.

  In order to regain her composure, she leaned against a rough-hewn porch post and stared into the darkness. She sensed rather than heard the movement, and suddenly Colter was standing in the path of feeble light cast by the naked bulb on the front porch.

  “I promised not to take you captive, but don't tempt me.”

  Chapter Two

  The sound of his voice caused her to lose her breath again.

  “I waited for you,” he said.

  “How did you know I'd come?”

  “I knew.”

  She gazed into his face and wished God hadn't put another perfect man in her path. Colter tempted her to try one more time, just once more, to see if there really was such a thing as sparks and to find out whether she could get them to fly. She sighed. Lord, she didn't have time for sparks anymore. She didn't have time for anything except her job and looking after her parents.

  “I'm here,” she said. “But don't get your hopes up.”

  “I had my heart set on a ride with you, Jo Beth.”

  A hundred images came to her mind, all of them erotic.

  “Riding with you could be dangerous, Colter.”

  “You never know until you try.”

  He walked closer and propped one foot on the lowest of the front porch steps.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but words wouldn't come out. He rescued her.

  “I'm going to have to break my promise, you know.”

  “Which promise?”

  “Not to touch you.”

  He came up one more step. The porch light shone squarely on his face now. He looked every inch the savage.

  “Take my hand, Jo Beth.”

  She reached out. His hand was warm and strong as it closed around hers. Silently, she followed him down the porch steps and out into the darkness.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To my camp. I’ll drive.”

  She handed him the keys. Without speaking he helped her into the Jeep and climbed behind the wheel. Zar, sensing adventure, jumped into the back. The engine roared to life, and they set out across the desert. She leaned her head back against the seat. Sensations ripped through her—the stinging of wind on her face, the jolting of her body as the wheels took the rou
gh terrain, the gut-wrenching anticipation of setting off into the unknown with this strangely silent man.

  The drive was too short. She felt the journey ending almost as soon as it had begun. Colter turned the key, and the engine's roar ceased. The quietness of the desert night descended on them.

  “Can you find your way back, Jo Beth?”

  “You want me to go back?”

  Instead of answering, he leaned across the seat toward her. “I'm compelled to break my promise again.” He lifted a strand of her hair and watched it filter through his fingers. “It's even softer than I imagined. And more fair. As shiny and clear as the teardrops of an angel.”

  “Speak sweet beautiful words to me, and I’ll follow you anywhere.” She deliberately made the words light and teasing.

  He released her hair and cupped his hand against her cheek. “Your skin is like the first snows that come down from the mountains.” His hand skimmed over her face and touched her eyelashes. “And your eyes. As clear as the brook that runs through my village.”

  “Your village?”

  “My Apache home. North. In the White Mountains.” He gazed across the desert as if he were seeing a vision. There was pride in his face, and fierceness, and the briefest hint of pain, as if a battle were waging deep within his soul and he didn't know which side he wanted to win.

  Suddenly he released her face and sprang lightly from the Jeep. He came around to her side and pressed the keys into her hand.

  “You’ll be safe going home. Your brave dog will see to that.” He closed her fingers around the keys and held on for a moment longer. “And I’ll keep my promise not to see you again.”

  “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.