Desert Heat Read Free

wasn’t covered as
thickly with cacti. It was open and far more barren. She didn’t see how anyone
could make their way through this one.
    Her thoughts were
diverted when Mike flipped on his blinker and slowed. He turned under a sign
that said Welcome, Guests . Then under that, The Jumping Cholla, est. 1905 . And, strangely, several hand-painted posters
with messages stop destroying our desert! and earth
murderer! strewn about.
    Mallory
turned to ask Mike about them, but his jaw was set in such a hard line that she
decided not to pry. They drove down a long, winding dirt lane that finally
opened to an oasis. A large adobe lodge rose from the desert floor like a red
sand castle on a beach. A quarter-acre or more of closely cropped emerald green
grass circled the building. At the edge of the lawn, a pristine pool glistened
in the morning sun. Several picnic tables and beach chairs, shaded with bright
blue and yellow striped awnings, surrounded the aqua depths. Several smaller
haciendas, a barn, and horse corral stood off a ways from the lodge.
    ~*~
    Mike pulled up to
the front door of the lodge and parked. “This is it.”
    He retrieved her
luggage from the back of the SUV, then led Mallory
through heavy wooden doors. Their heels clicked eerily on the flagstone floor.
She glanced around with a curious expression. He’d lived here for over ten
years, and imagined what it would be like to see the ranch for the first time.
Through an open doorway sat a game room with a pool table, several video games,
three large couches, and a bar at one end. On the other side of the hall were
the bathrooms. A little farther, to the right, a dining room was filled with
gleaming oak tables.
    At the end of the
hall, Mike paused before turning right. He went to the first door and opened it
with a master key. He dug a room key out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I
hope this is okay.”
    He watched as she
walked in and looked around.
    Decorated in a
sparse, Spanish-style, the room was meant to sooth jangled nerves and reduce stress. Her room faced a rock patio with a fountain
in the middle, other suites directly adjacent from hers. Several strategically
placed dark blue hammocks called out an open invitation to relax. Orange and
red nasturtiums climbed the walls, a wall of
glossy-leafed oleanders blocked the pool.
    Mallory turned and
walked toward him. She moved like a desert deer, full of grace. He usually went
for curvy blondes, but something about her dark eyes and curly brown hair
caught and held his attention. The plain white tee and straight green skirt she
wore flattered her tall, rail-thin frame and tanned skin. Pretty in a classical
way, she intrigued him. A lot.
    Surprised at the
direction his thoughts headed, Mike made an effort to rein them in. The last
thing he needed was an involvement with anyone. He had to concentrate on saving
The Cholla from the clutches of a group of environmentalists bent on running
him out. Because the ranch sat on the banks of the Salt River, they wanted him
gone. Although they had failed before, this time the judge had placed an
injunction against the ranch’s operations until the next court date, sometime
in June.
    Tired of his
stubborn streak, and his refusal to give in, Elisha had left him. He hadn’t
loved her for her vast family fortune, but when she left, she took the funding
to fight the Salt River Protection League. He had enough to live on, to keep up
the ranch, including the horses, but much more was out of the question. Fear
gripped him—maybe the SRPL was going to beat him this time.
      “I’ll show you where I live.” Mike turned his
thoughts away from his grim reality. They went back up to the main hall and
crossed to the other side. “The library is right there. Feel free to use it.”
    He unlocked a
door, stepping aside to allow her to enter first. A matching hunter-green sofa
and chair rested under a bay window that overlooked the pool. The other end
held a king-sized bed, two