His getaway turned out to be a simple wood-frame farmhouse on the north bank of the San Juan River west of Shiprock. The home was a rectangle of wood siding and fiberglass shingles, a style that could have easily been found in Utah or California instead of the Navajo Nation.
As they stepped up onto the wooden porch Dana noticed the same circular symbol carved into the door frame that she’d seen at the first house they’d stayed. It was scarcely more than a scratch in the wood near the floorboard, but it was there.
Unlocking his door, Ranger turned and, following her gaze, saw what she’d been studying. “I have some creative termites,” he said with a half smile. “Pesky creatures.”
She said nothing, but her thoughts were racing. It didn’t seem likely that Ranger’s home was a police safe house. It made more sense to believe Ranger was a member of the Brotherhood of Warriors and this was a symbol another member in trouble would recognize.
From what she’d seen of Ranger’s training, and hearing more than once that he was on assignment and trusted by the police, that didn’t seem like much of a stretch. From what Hastiin Sani had told her, the Brotherhood of Warriors were the best of the best and Ranger definitely fit that description.
Dana was intuitively aware of the way he was watching her as she walked inside his home. They were so closely attuned, it was a little bit frightening. Was this love…or was she letting her imagination run wild?
“I need to do something,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Will you keep an eye on the road we came in on? I don’t think we were followed, but I’m not going to underestimate these people.”
“No problem.”
He took a few steps down the hall, then turned his head. “There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. You can grab something to eat while you keep watch.”
After finding a loaf of wheat bread and some slices of chicken breast and cheese in the kitchen, Dana made two quick sandwiches and left one for Ranger. As she ate her own sandwich, she stood beside the window, looking back in the direction they’d come. The house was at the end of the road, so nobody could come in from another direction except on foot.
Dana heard Ranger moving about in one of the back rooms, but the door was closed and she couldn’t make out his conversation. After fifteen minutes he returned.
Seeing him coming down the hall, she called out. “There’s a sandwich waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Have you seen anything or anyone?” he asked, coming up from behind her and taking a look for himself.
“Nothing but crows, a cottontail and a ground squirrel. No people, or moving shadows, or cars,” she answered. “I was watching on the way here, too. No one followed us.”
“These days, with all the electronic gadgets, you don’t have to be right on someone’s tail to follow them,” he warned.
She conceded with a nod. “Have you learned anything we can use?”
“All the men who were in Ernesto Trujillo’s original gang have been identified and accounted for. That verifies what we already suspected. Ignacio is recruiting soldiers on his own-mostly small-time locals and off-the-reservation street punks.”
“If he’s smart, he’ll also hire Navajo men who can blend in and pose an even greater threat to us,” she said.
Ranger shook his head. “Not likely. We’ve got…friends. Word has gone out, and the criminal element here on the rez has received a warning they won’t ignore. Ignacio won’t be able to recruit from inside our borders.”
Ranger had left his cell phone on the table next to his keys. When it rang, she handed it to him. From the expression on his face, she could tell that it was very bad news.
Ranger hung up, went to one of the rooms in the back, then returned within a minute carrying a rifle. A pistol was stuck in his belt, and she could see clips of ammunition in his pocket. “We’ve got to get moving.”
“But we just got here.”
“The man who stocked the kitchen with food for us was found dead outside a gas station near Shiprock-killed by a sniper while he was gassing up his pickup. The shot apparently came from long range, so it’s not likely he gave us up, but it’s too risky to stay here now. Others will be watching the road to make sure we’re not followed, but you and I need to find another place.”
Dana started to ask him for a name, wondering if it had been one on the list, then stopped. That would have also entailed the admission that she knew some of the names. Instead, Dana picked up her bag and went into the kitchen to gather some food and bottled water. “Do you have any idea where we’re going, or will we just drive until we get someplace we can hole up for the night?”
Ranger smiled. “That’s what I like about you. This isn’t your thing-constant changes in plans, and never knowing what’s going to happen next-but you adapt quickly.”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” she said. They got underway moments later.
They drove east, off the reservation. Finally Ranger broke the silence between them. “Tell me something, Dana. The challenges we’ve faced, the adventure, does that part appeal to you at all? And will you miss it once it’s over?”
“No. In that way we’re not at all alike,” she said, guessing what was behind his question. “What has kept me going is the hope that we’ll find justice for our friend.”
“That’s important to me, too-both personally and as a Navajo. All things in life are connected and when one thing is out of balance, it affects the whole picture. The only way for any of us to find peace is to restore the Hohzo,” he said.
“I understand the concept,” she said with a nod. “One of my goals has been to learn more about traditional Navajo ways. Inner peace seems to go hand-in-hand with them.”
Ranger nodded. “My mother was a traditionalist. Through her, I learned that words have power, that an eagle feather, a mountain lion skin, or a bear claw can give whoever carries them the strength of that animal. I keep an eagle fetish with me and feed it pollen to keep it strong. Those beliefs make me a Navajo and keep me centered.”
She listened, feeling his love for all things Navajo. Defending what he held dear as part of the Brotherhood of Warriors would have come naturally to Ranger.
His cell phone rang again. Seeing his expression remain neutral, she tried to listen to his side of the conversation and figure out what was going on.
A minute later he hung up and met her gaze. “The device inside Hastiin Dííl’s hogan was a homemade pipe bomb filled with gunpowder and nails, not another grenade like the one in the medicine hogan. My guess is they didn’t have two. The bomb included a lantern battery and an electrical detonator stolen from a construction site about a month ago.”
“That means that Trujillo must have been planning his moves for some time-even before he had the names of his future targets,” she pointed out.
“Since the death of his brother, probably,” he said. “There’s a store down the road not too far from here. I’ll buy some supplies, then we’ll head to higher ground where no one can find us without showing themselves.”
How lovely it would have been to share a special place with Ranger where no one could find them for days on end… The ringing of Ranger’s cell phone quickly brought her out of her musings.
Ranger looked at the display and recognized the number. “I’m here, Fire. What’s up?” But the voice that answered wasn’t his brother’s.
“Who am I speaking to?” the voice on the other end demanded.
Ranger pulled the truck over to the side of the highway and focused. “You first, pal.”
“This is FBI Agent Harris.”
Ranger identified himself immediately. “How did you get the cell phone you’re using, Agent Harris?”
“It was the last number dialed on one we found beside the body of another murder victim.”
“Victim? Who?” Fear pried into him like a knife to the gut. But it couldn’t have been his brother. Hunter was too good at what he did. More important, Ranger was sure he would have felt his own twin’s death. He was as linked to Hunter as daylight to the sun.
“We haven’t ID’d the body yet.”
“How did he die?” he asked, his voice thick.
“Sniper took him out with one bullet to the head, apparently. An unidentified witness called in the shooting from a pay phone, and we’re trying to track him down,” Harris said. “When we arrived at the scene, it took a while to find the exact location the perp used to take the shot. Get this-it was five hundred yards away. We found two sets of footprints and vehicle tracks there.”
“Not many people could have made a shot like that,” Ranger said, his voice sounding detached.
“I know. That’s our best lead. Trujillo ’s importing talent, either an ex-military marksman, or someone who gets in a lot of practice at the range.”
“Two sets of prints suggest a military-style sniper team-spotter and shooter,” Ranger said, his voice taut. “Let me know when you’ve identified the body. The cell phone you’ve found, I believe, belongs to my brother, Hunter.”
“I understand your concern, Blueeyes, and I’ll call you personally when we get more information,” Harris replied, his voice less official now. Then he ended the call.
Dana saw the beads of sweat that had broken out on Ranger’s forehead despite the cool temperature outside. His knuckles were white, a sign of the death grip he had on the steering wheel.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
Ranger filled her in with short clipped sentences. “But it couldn’t have been my brother. Not many people can guard against a sniper, but my brother would have sensed what was going down. I’m sure of it,” he added for his own benefit.
“Other explanations are possible, too. For instance, your brother might have been there, and dropped the phone when the shooting took place. With a sniper in place, it’s possible he might not have been able to retrieve it. Or maybe he loaned the phone to the victim and was somewhere else at the time,” she said, her tone hopeful. “Don’t assume anything. Wait until they confirm the victim’s identity.”
Ranger tried to push back the darkness that surrounded his every thought, but he couldn’t quite do it. If it was true and his brother was dead, his own personal hell was just beginning. “The blood that pumps through my brother’s veins is the same as mine. He and I are linked. I would have felt his death,” he repeated firmly.
“Hold to that, then,” she said, feeling the edge of desperation that lay behind his words.
He turned up a dirt track that led to the bosque area around the Animas River, not far east from where it joined up with the San Juan. An area free of development, the beauty here was unspoiled, just as nature had intended. He pulled the truck off the irrigation canal road, and down into the dense undergrowth, then shut off the engine.
“We need to hang out for a bit. Here, we’ll be out of view and the cell phone will still work. For now, I’d like to stay in contact with Harris.” He stared ahead for a second, then slammed his hand hard against the wheel and cursed.
She could feel the darkness building inside him. For the first time since they’d met, Ranger needed her. As someone who’d learned how to cling to hope when there seemed no reason to do so, she could help him now. Ranger needed to find his own strength again and she would be his guide.
“Let’s walk down to the river,” she suggested.
He nodded. “I know a nice spot against the sandstone hillside, a place where the river has worn a shallow cave into the cliffs. It’s not too far. It’s deep in the bosque and between two bluffs, so the place is secluded. We should be safe there while we wait.”
Taking her hand, Ranger led the way through the maze of cottonwoods, willows and grasses. It never ceased to amaze her how someone as tall and broad-shouldered as Ranger could move so silently through thick vegetation like this.
Later, when they reached the river, he looked in both directions, then led her downstream. Where the cliffs were closest there was a small shelf-a sandbar-that led them into the narrow channel. About fifty feet farther, they came across a small, sandy area along the inside curve of the river. At the base of the cliff was a spot where spring floods had undermined the wall.
Dana sat down beside him on the sandy earth, but seconds later, he stood and began to pace along the water’s edge.
“My brother better be out there, alive and well, or there’ll be more blood spilled. I’ll make sure of that.”
She walked over to where he stood and took his hand. “Concentrate on life. Celebrate it. You’ve always done that by living in the moment. Don’t stop now. Life is a gift and not even a moment of it should be wasted.”
Dana pulled him to the ground, sat astride him and slid her arms around his neck, molding herself to him. She would give him the comfort only love could bring-a reminder of life in the midst of death. She could think of nothing greater to give the man she’d fallen in love with.
As her lips met his, Ranger returned the kiss fiercely, taking what she offered like a dying man struggling for a breath of air.
She pushed back his shirt and covered his chest with tiny, moist kisses, wanting him. His need pressed intimately against her as her trail of kisses went ever lower down his body. She could feel the fierce pounding of his heart against her palm. She loved touching him and the way his breath sharpened when she caressed him.
“Slow down,” he whispered, bringing her face up to meet his lips. Ranger kissed her slowly. In contrast to her hurried movements, he was patient, parting her lips easily, deepening their kiss and letting her take a shaky breath before kissing her again. His voice was gentle as he pushed her hips down against him. “Feel me. I’m ready. But you’re not. Not yet.”
Steadying her between his arms, Ranger undressed her with unbearable patience, letting his fingertips glide along her breasts, then taking them into his mouth, suckling gently, until she cried out his name.
A whirlwind of emotions ribboned around her. She’d wanted to give comfort but now all she could feel was heat, the searing kind that melted everything in its path. Each nip sent her closer to the brink. Feeling him throbbing beneath her parted legs, she tried to unbuckle his belt, but her fingers were clumsy and her hands shaking.
“If you have any pity in you, you’ll help me with this thing,” she said, laughing out of sheer frustration.
His chuckle was a throaty growl that sent its ripples all through her. With one quick twist, he undid his belt, then opened his jeans. “Pull them down,” he ordered.
Dizzy with needs, she did as he asked because it was exactly what she’d yearned to do. Restraint had covered his body with a sheen of perspiration that accentuated every plane and rise. He was magnificent, his muscled flesh the color of a sunset. She smoothed her hand over him, learning what gave him pleasure.
When the heat became too intense, he gripped her hands and held them to her sides. “My turn,” he growled.
He tasted and loved the milky-white softness of her skin, then cupped her intimately, parting the velvety folds, and feeling the moist heat there. When he pressed into her, he could feel everything feminine in her welcoming the intrusion. She strained into him, moaning, and that anguished cry of pure need fueled his own.
Capturing her cries with his mouth, he caressed the center of her womanhood, slowly driving her wild in his arms.
“I can’t…”
“Yes, you can. Don’t hold back.”
His hands were rough and demanding, then tender. Waves of pleasure seared through her until her world came apart in one bright, shining moment. Then, in the safety of his arms, she rested.
Once her breathing evened, he shifted, positioning her beneath him. Passion stronger than anything he’d ever known gripped him.
“Look at me,” he demanded and when she did, he gripped her hips and pushed himself into her.
Seeing herself reflected in the black pools of his eyes, she understood the power of harmony and balance.
In a frenzy of need and heat, he drove into her. Her cries drove him crazy as did the way her fingers dug into his shoulders, almost to the point of pain. In freedom, and in love, their bodies became one, and he poured himself into her.
They lay quietly afterward, her arms and legs still entwined around him. She’d known intimacy before, but never like this. She’d felt as delicate as a flower that had come into bloom in the middle of a storm, and yet powerful, too, knowing she’d given a man like Ranger so much pleasure.
He rolled back, taking her with him, then held her. “You know what’s in my heart now,” he whispered. “At least in this, there are no secrets.”
Dana ached to hear him speak of love, but when he didn’t, she held back, too. Ranger was a free spirit, and she’d known that from the beginning. He’d given her all of himself and taken what she’d offered freely, but he would never accept being tied down.
“What I feel for you is real,” Ranger said, sensing her feelings. “But I’ve got nothing else to give you now-no promises or assurances. I haven’t got a future-not until I know what happened to my brother, and we finish what needs to be done.”
“What we’ve shared is enough,” she whispered. She’d fallen in love and had no regrets. What she’d discovered in his arms would be a part of her forever.