The Shadow Read online

  He burst out laughing, then, acting on impulse, pulled her into his arms and lowered his mouth over hers. It was a soft kiss at first, but her mouth parted easily under his, and that was an invitation he couldn’t resist. He tasted her, taking his time, losing himself in that moment of pleasure.

  Hearing her sigh and feeling her melt against him heated his blood. His kiss suddenly turned hard and demanding. He devoured her mouth, taking all she would give, and still wanting more. Knowing that in another moment his control would be history, he finally eased his hold.

  She looked up at him, her eyes unfocused, her chest heaving. It took everything he had in him not to pull her against him again.

  “That…was…”

  “A mistake?” he growled.

  “I was going to say ‘incredible.’”

  AS THEY HEADED BACK toward the city, she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, still tasting him there. The way he’d held her, and all that passion barely kept in check…It had made her feel…powerful, to think she could do that to Jonas. Emotions clashed inside her and she realized that she had to get her mind on something else or she’d go crazy.

  She gazed to the west. Ship Rock stood tall and alone, thirty miles away. She remembered her dad telling her once that the peak was sacred to the Navajo tribe. They believed it to be the remains of a huge bird that had once carried the Navajo People to safety.

  “You never said who the man who changed your life was,” she said.

  “To many, he’s known only as Dinétsoh.”

  She smiled. “I know him. He was a friend of my dad’s.” She remembered the first time she’d met him. Something about him had intrigued her right away. Beyond the playful eyes, she’d seen an intensity that had reminded her of the superheroes she’d been so fond of back then. Curious about him, she’d stopped by her father’s office and listened outside the closed door.

  Dinétsoh had told her dad that a very special group of individuals—the Brotherhood of Warriors—needed him to represent their interests. Dinétsoh had spoken of the group as “the men of the circle and the flames.” He’d said that they were the tribe’s best warriors—ones who operated in the shadows so others could walk in beauty.

  As she looked at Jonas, Emily suddenly knew with absolute certainty who and what he was. The cryptic message her father had hidden in his workshop was somehow connected to the Brotherhood, too.

  Jonas’s eyes narrowed. “What? You have a very peculiar expression on your face.”

  “Nothing,” she said. What Dinétsoh had told her father had been a tribal secret. Once she’d heard that, she’d instantly felt guilty. As a way of making up for what she’d done, she’d kept the secret, as well—her way of honoring both men. “I was just thinking about the nature of secrets…”

  Jonas studied her expression before focusing back on the road. “Sometimes keeping them is a matter of honor. At other times it’s just away to insure you can face a battle on your own terms.”

  His words caught her attention. She knew his secret. Had he guessed hers? Had he seen her looking askance at something at one time or another when she was trying to see it more clearly? What was happening to her sight was something she’d wanted to keep private, at least for now. The possibility that he already knew made her feel vulnerable and exposed.

  “We each have things we don’t speak about, but there’s nothing wrong with that,” he continued. “Anglos usually talk too much. They want everything out in the open, but that’s not always the best way. Navajos believe that to speak of something is to risk making it come true. That’s why we’re more careful about what we say.”

  “I can respect that, but I miss the days when trust came more easily,” she said wistfully, remembering her teens.

  “Trust is earned, not by what’s said or isn’t, but by actions. Judge me on that basis, and I’ll do the same for you.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal,” Emily answered with a smile. She knew what she needed to know about him. He’d fight—for her and his tribe—and never quit till the job was done. That was enough. As long as she kept a firm rein on her heart, she’d be fine.

  AFTER FINDING NOTHING but junk mail at the post office, they went to the bank to check out her father’s safe-deposit box. Maybe some of the answers she needed would be stashed away there. After that, she’d speak to her father’s real-estate attorney and find out more about the contract Grant Woods had presented to her.

  Since she’d already been to the box once since her father’s death, all the legalities had been settled. With her right to access the box assured, and key in hand, she wrote her name on the sign-in sheet and followed the attendant to the vault.

  Carrying the big metal inner drawer for her, Jonas went with her into one of the small cubicles set aside for privacy. Emily sat in the chair before the desk, while he remained standing to her right.

  Although it was difficult for her to read in subdued light, she skimmed through the papers as best she could, setting aside those that seemed important.

  “It appears Dad kept all the written offers he ever got for our property. This first one goes back twenty years. It’s from a gas company that wanted the drilling and mineral rights.”

  She studied the next sheet, angling it to get the best lighting. “Here’s a land offer from Grant Woods. It dates back three years, right after his mother died, if I remember correctly. His father had already passed on, so he inherited everything.”

  Emily read the offer again, more carefully this time. “But this isn’t for drilling rights—this is for the entire ranch. The note at the bottom, written in my dad’s hand, shows the date he rejected the offer.”

  “Interesting,” Jonas murmured, looking down at the contract.

  “My dad wouldn’t have signed over drilling rights to Grant and not kept a copy of the agreement. He was very detail oriented. As you can see, he kept a copy of everything.”

  “Let me have some of my contacts look over the document Woods handed you. It might be a forgery, but it’s a very clear copy, so it should give them enough to work with. We have samples of your father’s signature on record and can have expert comparisons made. Is that okay with you?”

  “Sure. You’ll let me know as soon as possible what your people find out?”

  “Of course.” He eyed the rest of the papers from the drawer. “No maps, so their loss still remains a mystery. Did you see anything in there that mentions or explains what Law Rock is?”

  “I didn’t, but feel free to take a look.” She reached for the unlabeled envelope she’d set aside, and pulled out the single sheet of paper it contained. “Here’s something with that tribal emblem—the circle and the flames. But it’s not an offer. It’s a contract between the Tribal Special Interests Authority and Dad, stating that he’s their legal representative and will look after their interests.” She smiled. “Hey, and it’s signed by Dinétsoh!”

  Jonas had meant to ask how she knew that the circle and the flames were tribal in origin, but something in her voice when she mentioned Dinétsoh diverted him. “How well did you know him?”

  She smiled. “I was only a kid when I first met him, but he was always nice to me. He’d come to the house often to talk to Dad about business, and whenever he did, he’d take time for me, too. We went hiking once or twice. He even taught me how to track.”

  “When’s the last time you saw him?” Jonas asked quickly.

  There was an edge to his voice that told her it wasn’t an idle question, and that her answer was important. She considered for a moment before answering. “It’s been years…probably just before I moved away to college. Once I left home, I seldom came back to visit.”

  She bumped into the drawer with her elbow, and as she turned around, something caught her eye. “There’s a scrap of paper stuck to the inside of the drawer, near the hinge,” she said, leaning in for a closer look. “It’s taped to the top.”

  “Be careful. Don’t tear it,” he said.

  A
fter removing the folded sheet, a piece of her father’s stationery, she unfolded it on the desktop. “It’s another puzzle,” she said. “This time it’s a collection of numbers and the letters n, e, w, d, m and s. Do they make sense to you?” she asked, handing Jonas the sheet.

  He studied the information, then glanced back up at her. “They look like map coordinates—latitudes and longitudes of different locations in the same vicinity. They’re the same degrees and minutes. Only the seconds are different.”

  “Could these be the coordinates to the place he mentioned before—Law Rock?”

  “The coordinates aren’t specific enough to give us an exact location—not unless Law Rock is the size of a house. And there wouldn’t be three of them.”

  The muted light in the cubicle was a constant annoyance to her as she struggled to read. It was also a reminder of the fight she was losing. “I’ll put the contract offers back where I found them, but I’m keeping the coordinates with me.”

  “Would you like me to check them out and see if any correspond to locations on your property? All it’ll take is one phone call.”

  “Yeah, go ahead,” she said without hesitation.

  Emily watched him leave the vault area, then, alone, placed everything back. By the time she’d finished, he still hadn’t returned, so she went outside to where they’d parked.

  She found him on his cell phone, speaking in Navajo. Seeing her, Jonas finished up quickly. “I’m having someone run those coordinates right away.”

  “Someone you trust, I hope?”

  “With my life,” he said. “One of the advantages of my work for the tribe is that it gives me access to people with special skills.”

  “Let’s hope we get answers soon.” Emily glanced up at the street sign and added, “Robert Jefferson’s office is around the corner. He’s my father’s attorney. Let’s drop by there and see if he’s available. I’d like his opinion on the contract Grant handed me. I’m hoping he’ll say it isn’t binding. That would solve all the problems.”

  “If it does turn out to be legitimate, the tribe will probably want to redraft the terms of the sale,” he warned. “We won’t grant drilling rights—not easily, anyway.”

  Her stomach plummeted. With those few words he’d given voice to one of her worst nightmares. Without the money from the sale, she wouldn’t be able to furnish the inn, or hire the necessary staff, much less build her own casita.

  Knowing that the odds were stacked against her, Emily reached deep within herself for the courage she needed. Some dreams were worth fighting for. “Let’s see what Robert has to say, then I’ll decide what needs to be done next.”

  THEY ARRIVED AT THE attorney’s small but elegant ground-floor office a few minutes later. A young, curvy, dark-haired woman sat at the front desk. She answered a telephone call, then glanced up at them. “Hello. Ms. Atkins, isn’t it? I’m Jen Caldwell. How can I help you today?”

  “I’d like a few minutes with Robert if he’s available, Jen. I need to discuss a real-estate matter.”

  The woman looked down at a desk calendar for a second, then glanced back to Emily. “He’s clear for the next hour. If this concerns the Grant Woods offer, I don’t think Mr. Jefferson has the paperwork finalized yet.”

  “Are you talking about a property offer, or something to do with the mineral and drilling rights?” Emily asked.

  “Property, unless Robert—Mr. Jefferson—has had further contact with Mr. Woods since his last visit.” Jen hesitated a moment, then added in a low voice, “I know this isn’t any of my business, but I hope you reject Mr. Woods’s offer and sell to someone else. There’s something really creepy about that man.”

  “What happened? Did he start hanging around, and now you just can’t seem to get rid of him?” Emily asked.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Back in high school he had a thing for petite, dark-haired girls with your type of figure. He fawned over them, which tended to drive them nuts after a while.”

  Before Emily could continue, a tall, portly man appeared from the adjoining office.

  “Emily, how are you doing?” he said, shaking her hand. “Again, I’m so very sorry about your father.”

  She nodded but said nothing. People meant well, but every reminder of her loss opened a wound that hadn’t healed yet.

  “Come into my office,” Robert said, then glancing at Jen, added, “Hold my calls.”

  Emily introduced Jonas as a family friend, and Jefferson invited them to take a seat. Walking to a coffeemaker on a large credenza, he added, “I have a special brew made from piñon nuts—produced by a New Mexico company, naturally. Would you like some? But I warn you, I make it strong.”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

  When Jonas also declined, Robert walked to his desk, sat in the extra large leather chair and leaned back. “So, tell me, Emily, what I can do for you today?”

  She handed him the contract Grant had given her. “This is a copy of a deal Grant claims to have made with my dad just before he died. My father never mentioned this to me, and I haven’t been able to find the original document anywhere among Dad’s papers. Do you remember drawing up this contract?”

  Jefferson studied the paper for a moment. “I was your father’s attorney, but this isn’t my work. That doesn’t mean it’s not genuine—it could have been handled by another attorney or even a Realtor—but I have to say it surprises me. Your father always checked with me when it came to real-estate matters. He was a thorough person. You know that.”

  “Yes, he was,” she stated.

  The lawyer continued to study the contract for several more moments, then looked up at her. “There’s something else I find confusing about this contract. Just recently Mr. Woods made it clear to me that he intends to expand his land holdings while the market is depressed, then sell off parcels once the prices go back up. So why go the direction of gas exploration? As far as I know, he has no contacts or experience in that industry.”

  “Is it binding on me?” Emily asked.

  “You said you couldn’t find the original?”

  “No, and I’ve gone through everything,” she said.

  “The first thing you need to do is make sure it’s a legitimate contract. There’s a county records number at the top, so apparently the papers were filed. That would be the next place to check. If it’s all legal, you may have to take him to court to get it thrown out. That could get dicey, but I’ll give it a try for you, if you want.”

  “Thanks, Robert. Give me a few days to follow up on this, then I’ll get back to you.”

  “No problem,” he answered. “Are you still going forward with your plans to build the inn?”

  “To the extent I can, yes, but my funds are low and I’ve had someone sabotaging me every step of the way,” she said, explaining about the vandalism and the break-ins.

  “Be careful, Emily. A lot of people would like to get their hands on your property. That’s prime real estate,” he said. “I haven’t done all the credit checks on Grant yet, but so far, it appears he has the financial resources to pay top dollar. But this rights agreement does sound a bit odd. Maybe he has a backup strategy ready in case he has to buy you out one step at a time.”

  “Thanks for your help, Robert,” she said, standing to shake his hand.

  Moments later, Jonas and she were outside. “Back to the ranch?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’d like to check up on the work done today,” she replied. “I’d always intended on being very involved with the day-to-day activity. But nothing’s gone the way I planned.”

  “Maybe you’ll be able to get back on track by the time the foundation is laid and the actual framing begins.”

  She didn’t answer, her heart heavy. Judging from the way things were going, she saw no reason to believe the situation would improve anytime soon.

  Yet as she glanced at Jonas, she found reason to hope. Life was about the unexpected and no one could predict the future. The fa
ct that Jonas was here now was ample proof that fate had its own plans for her.

  Chapter Six

  As they headed back to the ranch, Emily replayed Robert Jefferson’s words in her mind.

  “I keep thinking that I’m missing something important, Jonas, but I have no idea what that could be.”

  “Too many questions are coming at you at once, Em. Don’t let it bug you. The answers are there, and we’ll find them.”

  There had been no deviation in his tone, no uncertainty. “You’re always so sure of yourself. Is it just confidence?”

  He gave her a devastatingly masculine grin. “Some, sure. But a lot of it is experience at this job.”

  “You left the rez for some very specific reasons, and poverty—for one—is still there. What makes you more able to accept that now?”

  “Dinétsoh and I were talking one day and I told him I couldn’t understand how anyone could be happy living hand-to-mouth, subsistence farming in the desert, and herding sheep. He told me that I was looking at things wrong, and took me with him to an isolated area of the rez. There, he introduced me to some of the people I’d categorized as having nothing except desperation and poverty.”

  “And that changed your mind?” she asked, surprised.

  He nodded slowly. “There was more to their lives than I’d realized. Our eyes fool us into thinking that the picture before us is the whole story, but that’s not always so, and it certainly wasn’t in this case. The goal of a good Navajo isn’t acquisition of goods, or even personal comfort. It’s to walk in beauty. To understand why they’d chosen that life, I had to reacquaint myself with the Navajo Way.”

  “You mean, Navajo religion?”

  “Something like that. The closest word we have for religion is nahaghá, which means that a ceremony’s under way,” he said. “Our people are guided by certain traditions. Those teach us how to live our lives. That’s the Navajo Way. The Diné believe that we’re all connected—animals, people, the land. Knowing that, and respecting the connection that binds us all together, is what allows a Navajo to find balance and harmony, and that’s how we walk in beauty.”