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A Man of His Word Page 17


  “For God’s sake, you always were a hothead! You and your father. He had no business taking a swing at my father the way he did.”

  “Is that right?”

  Her arm pinned against her back, her hair tumbling from its clip, Sydney could barely speak over her fury. Jamie could badmouth her all he wanted, but no one, no one put down her father and lived to tell about it.

  “I have a lot more respect for a man who would defend his daughter than one who’d tuck his tail between his legs and scurry away at his father’s command.”

  Scorn dripped from every word. The flush staining Jamie’s cheeks grew brick-red. Before he could get out the hot retort that bared his teeth, however, a heartbroken cry spun his head around.

  “Jamie! Oh, God, Jamie!”

  He froze. His expression would have been comical in its dismay if anyone was in the mood to laugh.

  “Arlene!” A hoarse denial ripped from his throat. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  Sebastian’s outraged voice rose above the anguish coming in little, choking cries from Arlene.

  “I knew it! I knew that woman would try to get her claws in you!”

  The woman in question fought a groan. She couldn’t believe it! Talk about déjà vu! It was ten years ago all over again.

  “You ass,” she hissed at Jamie. “Let me go.”

  “What?”

  Stunned by the turn of events, he stared down at her blankly. She opened her mouth to repeat the furious order, but it got lost in a new commotion outside.

  Doors slammed. Footsteps pounded. Lula’s voice came screeching through the air. “We heard the shoutin’! What’s going on?”

  Martha added her squeaky demand to her sister’s. “What are you doing in Sydney’s room, Sebastian?” The footsteps skidded to a halt. “Arlene! You’re here, too? And Jamie? Oh, my! Oh, my goodness!”

  Enough was enough. Her face flaming, Sydney yanked free of Jamie’s hold. She was damned if she was going to explain or apologize or burn with humiliation. Not again. Never again.

  “You said you didn’t love her!” Arlene cried. She clung to Sebastian’s arm as if she couldn’t support herself. “Just tonight, just an hour ago, you told me that you’d never loved her.”

  “I didn’t.” Jamie swallowed painfully, his face now as pale as it had been red a few moments ago. “It was just a summer fling.”

  Sydney had found that out the hard way ten years ago. She didn’t particularly enjoy having it rebroadcast for public consumption, however.

  “Then what are you doing here?” Arlene sobbed. “Why are you in her room?”

  Ha! That put him on the spot. Folding her arms, Sydney let Jamie find his own way out of that one.

  “I came to talk to her about the videotapes.”

  Sebastian’s aristocratic face sharpened. Shaking free of his daughter-in-law’s hold, he strode into the room to stand between Sydney and his son.

  “What about the tapes?”

  The younger Chavez squared his chin. “I destroyed them and I—”

  “You!” Sebastian’s head reared back.

  Arlene’s sobs caught in her throat. She gaped at her husband, her eyes wide and confused. “Jamie…”

  He cut her off sharply. “It was a stupid thing to do. I have no rationale, no reason.”

  Except the desire to protect his wife, Sydney thought. Grudgingly she recognized what Jamie himself didn’t seem to. He cared enough for Arlene to want to spare her public humiliation. He certainly hadn’t cared that much for Sydney ten years ago.

  “I came here tonight to ask her not to press charges,” he finished stiffly, his eyes cutting to Sydney as if daring her to contradict him…or bring up the business of the accident on Canyon Rim Road.

  She did neither. She was heartily sick of the whole Chavez clan. She would let Deputy Martinez sort out their assorted stories. That was his job. She had just started to tell them so when the sound of brakes screeching brought all heads around.

  Reece!

  Sydney’s heart jumped with relief, with dismay, with the almost farcical irony of the situation. Reece had heard all the stories about her scandalous past. His blue eyes tinged with disgust, he’d stepped in personally to divert Jamie’s attention that first night at the café. Would he believe Chavez had come to her room tonight just to talk, or automatically assume the worst, as everyone else had?

  Would he walk away from her, as Jamie had once done?

  No, he wouldn’t walk away. Not Reece. Still, Sydney’s chin tipped in anticipation of the explanations she knew he’d demand.

  Reece had spotted the crowd milling around the door to Unit Twelve the moment he turned into the parking lot. He was out of the Jeep and running before it had rolled to a full stop. His heart hammering, he shouldered his way through the crowd at the door. He didn’t pull in a whole breath until he spotted Sydney, her hair tumbling down and her eyes fierce.

  She looked like a mountain cat cornered by a pack of hungry wolves. Her eyes spit green fire. Her claws were unsheathed. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

  His only thought as he walked into the room was to get his woman away from the voracious pack. He took in the two wineglasses, the rumpled bed, the tears streaking Arlene’s face in a single, sweeping glance.

  “Are you okay?” he asked Sydney quietly.

  “Yes.”

  The stiff little response spoke volumes. She was writhing inside, but too damned proud to show it. Now that he knew she was safe, Reece decided the first order of business was to clear the room and give her some breathing space.

  “Okay, folks. The show’s over. Why don’t we all call it a night.”

  The casual order carried an underlying note of steel. Those outside the door drifted away, murmuring. His expression almost as fierce as Sydney’s, Jamie Chavez gave Reece a hard look, then walked across the room to slide an arm around his wife’s waist. She collapsed against him, crying into his shoulder as he led her away.

  Only Sebastian Chavez remained. Rigid. Unyielding. His black eyes cold and scornful in his proud face.

  “She’s a slut, Henderson. She seduced my son ten years ago and came back to Chalo Canyon to finish what she started then.”

  Reece rocked on the balls of his feet, his hands curling into fists. “The only reason I don’t flatten you right here, right now, Chavez, is the fact that I carry forty pounds more in weight than you and thirty fewer years. I might forget those fine distinctions, however, if you don’t get the hell out of here.”

  “She’ll destroy you, too, if you let her.”

  Reece took a step forward. “Now, Chavez!”

  Sebastian’s nostrils flared. He glared at Reece for another few seconds, shot Sydney a venomous look, then spun on his heel and stalked out. Reece shut the door behind him, noting that the locks showed no signs of forced entry. Evidently Sydney had let that parade from her past into her room.

  He would talk to her later about that bit of foolishness, he decided. Right now he figured she needed one thing, and one thing only. The same thing he did.

  He strode back to her, dipped, and swept her up in his arms. The single chair in the room looked too rickety to hold them both, but Reece decided to chance it.

  Sydney lay stiff against his chest for several long moments. He could feel her trembling. Subduing his seething fury at the Chavezes for subjecting her to this public debacle, he held her loose against his chest.

  Finally she twisted upright in his lap. “Don’t you want to know what happened?”

  “I can pretty well figure it out.”

  Her chin came up. A militant sparkle lit her eyes. She was still feeling the sting of Sebastian’s parting shot, Reece guessed.

  “Just what have you figured out?”

  “Jamie came knocking on your door and talked his way inside.”

  “And?”

  The belligerence in her tone tugged at Reece’s heart. She’d gone down this road once before.

  “A
nd,” he said calmly, “Chavez Jr. proceeded to make a total ass of himself. You were in the process of showing him out when his wife and father and everyone else in town arrived on the scene.”

  She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, her brows snapped together.

  “That’s it? That’s what you think happened?”

  “I don’t think, Sydney. I know.”

  “How?”

  He smiled at the blunt demand. A week ago, even a few days ago, he might have asked himself the same question. He’d heard all the stories about her. Had formed a less-than-flattering picture of her in his mind before he’d even met her. Since then he’d gained a deeper insight into this vital, vibrant woman. He’d seen her single-minded dedication to her work, her lively curiosity about anything and everything, even his dam. He’d laughed with her, loved with her. He couldn’t imagine how he’d believed, even for a moment, the stories that painted her as the cold-hearted other woman.

  Sliding fingers into her tumbled hair, he cradled her face in his palms. “I know that’s what happened, because I know you.”

  Sydney went into the kiss stunned by his simple declaration. She came out of it aching with a love that started deep in her chest and spread at warp speed to every finger, every toe.

  It was several breathless moments before she remembered Jamie’s reason for knocking on her door. She struggled upright in Reece’s lap once more.

  “Jamie came to town tonight to tell me that Arlene slashed my videotapes.”

  “He ratted on his wife?” Reece’s lip curled. “Nice guy.”

  Much as it went against the grain to defend the man, Sydney had to admit the truth. “No, he didn’t come to rat on her, only to ask me to drop the charges.”

  The last of her old resentments slipped away as she related how Jamie had leaped to Arlene’s defense. He loved her, even if he didn’t know the extent of that love. He’d always loved her. Sydney could only blame her own foolish infatuation on the fact that she hadn’t recognized that fact any more than Jamie had.

  “So are you?” Reece asked. “Going to drop the charges?” he added when she looked at him blankly.

  Smiling, she shook off the past forever. “Of course. I don’t want to hurt Arlene. I never did.”

  Looping her arms around his neck, she brushed his mouth with hers. With the touch came a gradual awareness. She didn’t want to hurt Arlene. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She drew back, her eyes filling with regret.

  “Maybe Sebastian was right.”

  Reece’s palm slid around her nape. His thumb tipped her chin. “Not hardly.”

  The snarl warmed Sydney’s heart.

  “I didn’t come back here for revenge or intending to destroy Jamie’s marriage, but I’ve certainly added to the stresses. If my presence pushed Arlene to such destructive, vengeful acts, I think— No, I know. I need to go back to L.A. and leave them in peace.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “I’ll pack up tomorrow, Reece.”

  “What about your documentary?”

  She let out a long gust of breath. “I’ll use what footage I have and exercise my creativity to fill in where I have to.”

  Reece didn’t even try to dissuade her. After seeing the look in Sebastian’s eyes, his gut told him that the old man’s hatred went far deeper than Arlene’s. Or maybe it was fear. Whatever drove him, Reece wanted Sydney out of the line of fire.

  He knew what leaving would cost her, however, and how much this documentary meant to her. The fact that she’d pack up before she completed her shoot opened a crack in his heart.

  “I’ll come get you in L.A.,” he said with a smile that promised everything he didn’t have the words to express, “and take you home to meet my brothers.”

  “Are they as tough as you?”

  “Tougher.”

  “As big?”

  “Bigger.”

  She traced a fingertip along his jaw. “As handsome?”

  “No, ma’am,” he said without a blink. “They’re ugly as sin and twice as mean. I’m the best of the lot.”

  Laughing, she dropped a kiss on his mouth.

  “I’ll remember that.”

  Chapter 15

  S ydney said goodbye to Reece in the predawn darkness. The farewells took longer than either of them anticipated, particularly since they involved an unexpected detour back to bed.

  Finally Reece groaned and pulled himself out of her arms. “I’ll see you in L.A. within a week. Two, at most. If the repair work takes longer than anticipated, I’ll fly in for a night at least.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “That, sweetheart, is a promise.”

  Every nerve in Sydney’s body hummed with pleasure at the look in his eyes. He was, she now knew, a man of his word. This time she wasn’t leaving an aching heart behind when she left Chalo Canyon.

  She was still languid with pleasure when she rolled out of bed a few hours later, showered and began to pack her things. She stepped outside to a spitting rain and went down to the café for coffee and a quick breakfast.

  Henry Three Pines was waiting for her, his gnarled hands folded around a mug of Lula’s dark, steaming brew.

  “We will not need the snakes to ask the kachinas for much rain this year,” he observed when she joined him.

  “Not this year,” she agreed.

  Someday, Sydney thought, she should document the famous Hopi snake dance that took place each summer after eight days of secret rituals. But she’d only shoot from a distance. She had no desire to get in close to the dancers who snatched up live rattlesnakes and carried them around in their mouths before releasing them to carry the tribe’s pleas for rain to the gods.

  She and Henry sat in companionable silence for a few moments, each contemplating the rain outside, before Sydney sighed.

  “I’m going home today.”

  “So I have heard. I will send my grandsons down into the canyon this morning to remove the ladders and equipment you rented.”

  “Thank you.”

  His calm gaze settled on her face. “It’s a wise decision, Little Squirrel. You have found what you sought when you came back here.”

  A blush started at her neck and worked its way to her cheeks. Under the brim of his brown felt hat, Henry’s weathered face folded into a million wrinkles.

  “I meant the peace your spirit needed,” he said with a grin. “But it is good that you found Reece, also.” His hand closed over hers. “Your father would be happy for you.”

  “I think so, too.”

  Sydney thought about Henry’s words as she settled her bill and made her farewells to Lula and Martha. Despite the fact that she had gaping holes in her documentary and would have to scramble to fill them with stock footage, she was leaving Chalo Canyon feeling far more serenity than when she’d arrived.

  Serenity…and a simmering, sizzling joy.

  As if to echo her mood, the sun broke through the clouds unexpectedly just as she hit the two-lane road that led out of town. The Blazer hummed along for another few miles, soaking up the hazy sunshine. As it approached a Y in the road, Sydney eased up on the accelerator.

  She could cut right and take the private road through Sebastian’s land to save herself twenty miles, or detour around his property as she’d done for the past ten days. The temptation to thumb her nose at him and drive across his land tugged at her, but she swung left and took the longer route. The last thing she wanted was another encounter with any of the Chavez clan.

  A few miles down the road, she approached the State Road that ran north and south. South would take her to Phoenix and the airport. North…north would take her to the canyon rim and the pull-off where she and her crew had parked their vehicles before trekking down into the canyon.

  The Blazer slowed to a stop. Crossing her hands over the wheel, Sydney contemplated the black-topped road. The sun still shone through the gray clouds, but the light was getting weaker by the moment. She chewed on h
er lower lip, aching for one last shot at the ruins. She had time. Her flight to L.A. didn’t take off for another four hours.

  Digging in her purse, she pulled out her cell phone and punched in the number for Reece’s. She’d just about given up hope that he’d answer when his voice snapped.

  “Henderson.”

  She could barely hear him over the roar of machinery in the background. He must be down at the base of the dam, near that monster crane.

  “Reece, it’s Sydney. I’m on my way to the airport.”

  “Drive safe. Let me know when you get there.”

  “I will. Listen, I’m only a few miles from the path that leads into the canyon. I’m going down for one more shot while this light holds.”

  “What?” He had to yell over the ear-splitting noise in the background.

  “I’m going to make a brief stop at the ruins.”

  “That’s not a good idea!”

  “Everyone thinks I’ve left town. It’s safe.”

  “No, it’s not. Those clouds…” He broke off, cursing as gears shrieked like the demons of hell. “Those clouds to the north have dumped a lot of rain on the mesas. Our recorders haven’t registered any measurable threat of flooding yet, but— What? Okay, okay,” he shouted in an aside. “I’ll be right there.”

  “I’ll only stay a few minutes,” she assured him when she had his attention again. “Just enough for some shots of the tower where the Weeping Woman was imprisoned. I won’t get the interiors I need, but at least I’ll have a few exteriors focused exclusively on the tower and the window she supposedly jumped from. I’ll be in and out of the canyon in an hour and a half.”

  “All right,” he conceded with heavy reluctance. “Just keep your phone handy and hotfoot it out of there immediately if I call and tell you to.”

  “I will.”

  Eager for a chance to showcase the tower in a last, dramatic sequence, Sydney grabbed the hard-sided case that held the minicam and its assorted lenses, locked the car and stuffed the keys in one of her many pockets. The cell phone went in another. Thank goodness she’d opted for the comfort of her baggy pants and sneakers for the return trip to L.A.! Slinging the strap of the camera case over her shoulder, she hurried down the path. She’d made the trek in and out of the canyon often enough by now to know every bump and turn and slide of rocks by heart.