Aimee Thurlo - The Shadow

Wanting to put some distance between them, she began wiping down the counter, though it was perfectly clean.

“What’s on your mind? Are you already having second thoughts about our deal?” he pressed.

The fact that he could read her so easily startled her, but she rebounded quickly and did her best to cover. “If you’re right, I’m caught in something I just don’t understand, except that it seems connected to my dad and this place. But that’s not much to go on.” She swallowed hard. “I’m not a coward, but it’s hard to fight an enemy when you have no idea who that person is, and why he or she is after you.”

“That’s why I’m here—to equalize the odds.”

His voice was filled with an assurance and confidence that was contagious. “Welcome aboard then.” She smiled and reached out, offering to shake hands. Then, remembering Navajos didn’t believe in casual touch, she drew back. “Sorry.”

Jonas reached for her hand and shook it. “You and I are hardly strangers.”

A vivid image of her lying naked in his arms, their bodies pressed tightly together, flashed in her mind. The cold surrounding them had given way to heat….

“You and I will start fresh today,” she said firmly, mostly for her own benefit. “History is only for those who like to live in the past.” Yet even as she spoke, she found it impossible not to notice the strength he kept in check or the hardness of his calloused palm. Though her insides were doing somersaults, she gave him an easy smile.

“I’m here to do a job. And believe me when I tell you that I’m very good at what I do.” His voice was calm, yet had an unmistakable edge that caught her attention and held it. “You’ve never been safer.”

The timbre of his voice sent a thrill up her spine. Jonas was the stuff dreams were made of. Somewhere along the way, he’d also acquired a quiet confidence that enhanced everything about him, and teased her imagination.

Emily turned and poured herself another cup of coffee. She wasn’t just losing her sight, she was losing what was left of her mind. She had more problems now than she knew what to do with. The last thing she needed was another complication.

Jonas was a temporary ally—that was all. As experience had repeatedly taught her, wishes were only the fragile whispers of a lonely heart.

Shortly after eight the following morning, Emily noticed a patrol car in the distance motoring slowly down the highway.

The deputies had told her last night when they’d come to take Jonas’s and her statements that they’d be increasing Jonas’s presence in the area.

Standing at the sink of the trailer, Emily watched the main house from the small window. Jonas had insisted on sleeping outside. He’d parked his truck in a spot that allowed him to keep watch on her trailer, the construction materials and the main house.

His presence reassured her even more than the added sheriff’s department deputies on patrol. Yet even so, she hadn’t been able to get much sleep last night. Thoughts and worries had chased each other in an endless circle.

The news that her father might have been murdered had turned her world upside down. No matter how she looked at it, her life was now a maze of uncertainty filled with what-ifs.

Emily took two mugs of coffee from the counter and stepped out of the trailer, trying to ignore the cold wind whipping against her. Halfway across the grounds, she glanced at the ten-by-twelve-foot concrete pad that had once been intended as a floor for her mother’s hobby room.

Her mom had vanished the day before it was poured, thirteen years ago, and the structure had never gone beyond that first step. Emily’s dad had always believed that her mom would someday return, so he’d left it there, ready for completion when the time came. But her mom hadn’t come home. Eventually, the police had stopped searching for answers. As the years went by, her dad, too, had come to terms with their loss.

Old doubts filled Emily’s mind as she thought about her mother. As a kid she’d spend many nights wondering if she’d somehow been the reason her mom had left.

Taking a deep breath, she stopped those musings abruptly. Her mother had made her choice. Now new dreams would spring up where the old had been. That useless concrete pad would be replaced by a new foundation. Once the Tamarisk Inn was up and running, Emily would build her own private residence on that spot.

As she reached the main house, she found Jonas by the back door, waiting. He was wearing low-slung jeans and a flannel shirt that fitted his wide shoulders snugly.

“Good morning,” she called, and held up the mugs. “I brought a cup for you, too.”

“Caffeinated?” he asked, sounding decidedly hopeful.

“Nope. Never drink the stuff. It gives me the jitters.”

“Then I guess this’ll have to do,” he answered with a martyred sigh. “Did you eat breakfast already?”

“I had a piece of toast. I don’t generally have breakfast.” Feeling guilty when she realized he was probably hungry, she added, “But my fridge is full. Help yourself to whatever you’d like. I’ve got plenty of eggs, bread and milk.”

“Thanks, but I’ll wait,” he answered, and followed her inside the house.

The interior felt bitterly cold. Standing on a step stool, she lifted off the curtain rod and removed the drapes from one window. The morning light immediately spilled inside. Emily knew a wave of warmth would soon be flowing across the room.

Not realizing Jonas was behind her, she stepped down from the stool, turned around with the curtains still in hand and ran right into his rock-hard chest. Her heart did a crazy somersault and awareness made her tingle all the way to her toes.

“Excuse me,” she muttered as he steadied her.

With a smile hovering around the corners of his mouth, he stepped aside.

Avoiding his gaze, she moved from window to window, taking down the remaining curtains and folding them. She then packed them into cardboard boxes, trying her best to avoid looking at Jonas. He was leaning in the doorway, arms and ankles crossed.

“Was last night the first time you had trouble with intruders?” he asked.

“No,” she said, and explained about the break-in the day of her father’s funeral and the missing maps. “They were of different quadrants here on our land, but not particularly valuable.”

He remembered his briefing. Diné Nééz, his contact, had raised the possibility that Dinétsoh might have gone to Fire Rock Hollow, the historical refuge legendary warriors like Manuelito had once used.

Its location had been lost for nearly a century. Then one day, the attorney had found the turquoise key near some ruins on his property. He’d showed it to Dinétsoh, his friend and associate, and together they’d rediscovered the place.

After that, Dinétsoh, appointed the cave’s new guardian, had kept the key with him, and to honor the past, had stocked the refuge with provisions. At the time of the accident, Dinétsoh and Powell Atkins had been on their way to conclude the sale that would have given the tribe ownership of that parcel of land.

“How will you deal with your father’s papers?” Jonas asked, glancing into what had been Powell Atkins’s office.

“I don’t have time to do much sorting, so I’m placing everything in storage. If there’s anything in there that pertains to the tribe, you’re welcome to it. Dad also had some papers in his safe-deposit box in town. I haven’t looked through those yet, except to get a few documents I needed right away, like his will, tax forms and the mortgage papers.”

“You should go through everything he placed in the bank as soon as possible. You might find some answers there,” Jonas advised, entering the office and glancing around. It was possible that Emily’s father had hidden something others wanted badly enough to kill for.