Margaret Daley - Buried Secrets

“Sure, later.” He tossed the bloodied shirt into the backseat. “But first, I’d like to get out of here.”

“Well, just in case you haven’t noticed, your car isn’t going anywhere.”

Zach withdrew his cell from his pocket and punched in a series of numbers. “Ray, Zach here. Can you pick me and a friend up? We’ve been in an accident.”

Maggie half listened as Zach gave his friend directions to where they were. Only for a few seconds had she glimpsed any vulnerability in him. He had just saved their lives with some spectacular driving, and now he was calmly taking charge, getting them a ride, calling a tow truck to pick up his car, as if brake failure were an everyday occurrence for him. Did anything get to this man? She watched him as he made his last call to the police. He was very much in control of his emotions, while she shivered from a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature.

If he ever loved someone, he would demand all of her because he didn’t invest himself easily. Whoa, where in the world had that observation come from? She was more shook up than she originally thought if she was putting Zach and love together in the same sentence.

Maggie ignored his words, but tuned in to the sound of his voice. It was rough and warm, slightly gritty, with an indisputable maleness to it that reflected the man. It was the reassuring voice of a person who was used to being in command, to making difficult decisions, possibly even involving dangerous matters. Suddenly a calmness descended on Maggie as though some of his strength had invaded her, soothing her.

“C’mon. Let’s wait near the road for Ray.” Zach tried his door, but it wouldn’t budge. He threw her a grin. “I guess I’ll use yours.”

She pushed on hers, but it didn’t move more than the few inches it was already open. “I think we’re stuck.”

“Here, let me see.” He reached across her body to shove at the door.

His clean, fresh scent overwhelmed her as he pressed against her. Her pulse reacted, racing through her as fast as they had driven down the mountain. His face, inches from hers, held her enthralled. She saw the tiny laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, the gleam that glittered in the gray depths. Her throat went dry.

An eternity later, the door gave way, and he twisted around so he looked directly at her. A connection, forged from a shared near-death experience, mesmerized her, binding them together. That realization should have panicked her, but for a few minutes it didn’t. It felt right—a Somers linked with a Collier.

Zach lifted his hand and grazed a finger down her cheek. He started to say something, but a car rounded the curve. A pair of headlights illuminated the ditch in front of them, and sent Zach back to his side of the car. While the vehicle passed them on the road, he gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

She resisted the urge to touch where his finger had. But his effect on her staggered her. A Collier was a taker, not a giver. Those were words she had heard many times from Gramps. She needed to remember them.

Without a word, Maggie stood on shaky legs, clasping the door to steady herself while Zach crawled over the seat and climbed out. He, too, grasped the car, his body so near that the hairs on her arm tingled.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked, needing to keep herself focused on being a doctor rather than a woman.

“I told you, I’m fine.” He released his grip. “When Ray comes, I think we should go to my place.” Before she could protest, he put his finger over her lips. “I don’t think this was an accident. That’s why I called the police. I want your car checked tomorrow before you drive it back to Santa Fe.”

Although she tried to ignore the feel of his touch against her mouth, it took her a long moment to gather her thoughts enough to say, “I can’t. I have patients to see first thing in the morning.”

Zach didn’t say anything. For the next fifteen minutes he went over the details of the accident with a police officer who had arrived and parked at the side of the road. The policeman had a few questions for Maggie, which she answered.

She held her arms close to her chest, but still the cold seeped into her bones. In the middle of the conversation, Zach walked to his trunk and withdrew a jacket. He placed it over Maggie’s shoulders, rubbing her arms up and down for a long moment. She wanted to lean back into his strength, to wipe the last hour from her mind, but the officer still had questions for them.

By the time Ray Parker pulled up, followed by the tow truck, Maggie was freezing even with the jacket on. Her teeth chattered, her body quaked. Finished with the police, Zach dealt quickly with the driver of the tow truck, then marshaled Maggie into his friend’s Ford Ranger. Zach introduced her to Ray, an associate at the college. She smiled her greeting, still too upset to say more than what was necessary.

In the front seat, Zach drew her against him, his arm about her. His warmth slowly chased the cold away the farther from the accident they went.

“What happened back there?” Ray slanted a glance at Zach.

“I’m not sure, other than the brakes failed at a crucial time.”

“You don’t think this has anything to do with Red’s death, do you?”

“Yes.”

That one word brought back all the distressing thoughts that Maggie had had over the past twenty-four hours. Robbery. Attempted murder. Murder. She wasn’t equipped to deal with those kinds of things. She was a healer. Caught between denial and seeking answers, she didn’t know what to do next. She needed time to think, to figure out how best to proceed.

Gramps murdered? Over the diary? Why now?

As Ray pulled up in front of what she assumed was Zach’s house, her head felt as though a jackhammer pounded against her skull. Her muscles ached, especially her neck, as if she had climbed the stairs to a fifty-story building. And the second Zach disengaged himself from her, the cold burrowed deeper into her bones. That reaction scared her. His presence was taking over her life. She didn’t give up control easily, if ever, to another human being. Even with the Lord she’d struggled with that.

“Come in, Ray. I need a favor.” Zach slipped from the cab. He offered Maggie his hand. For a long second she stared at it, almost afraid of what it would symbolize if she put hers in his. She’d always stood on her own two feet and not depended on another person, not even Gramps. She couldn’t allow herself to do it now, because the situation was complicated, possibly dangerous and definitely unusual.

Resisting his assistance, she climbed from the truck and pulled the jacket about her to ward off the cold. Zach stared at her for a moment, his arm dropping to his side.

As she trudged up the walk toward Zach’s adobe-style house, disquiet crackled in the air. Her knee throbbed where she’d hit the dashboard. Pain radiated from her neck, across her shoulders and down her back.

Inside, Zach flipped on a switch and light flooded his large, open living room, with its high ceiling. Masculine touches stamped the place, with Indian artifacts on the walls and tables. More like a museum, she thought as she surveyed the area before her. Any other time she would have appreciated his beautiful Indian art—collected from around the world, not just the United States—but at the moment the only thing she wanted to do was sleep for a week and forget what had happened.

Zach waved her toward a brown suede couch. “Sit. Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Soda? Tea?”

“No, I’m afraid I’d never go to sleep if I had any caffeine.” She wasn’t even sure she could fall asleep if she didn’t have it. But she knew if she didn’t sleep soon she wouldn’t be able to function for long, let alone figure out what was going on.