This was probably not the time to tell Hawke she couldn’t swim well, actually had a fear of water. A memory of almost drowning at Lake Powell as a child of eight flashed into her mind as quickly as a flood would through this opening in the rocks. Frigid in the midst of the heated day, she scrubbed her hands up and down her arms.

  Hawke appeared on the right side of her a step back. “We’re almost at the end.”

  She focused on rough terrain, shutting the door on yet another memory she never wanted to relive. “No wonder this place isn’t on the ten most visited spots in New Mexico.”

  “If this is the site of the Lost City of Gold, then be glad it isn’t.”

  “Yeah, you’ve got a point.”

  Gus disappeared around a bend. When Kit caught up with him, she came to a stop and gulped, barely coating her parched throat. At the exit, a massive rock slide covered the opening into the canyon.

  “We’ll have to go over. This looks recent.” Hawke and his uncle inspected the boulders lying in their path.

  “Yes. Within the last month.” Gus climbed up on a stone. “But shouldn’t be hard to go over.”

  When she looked up five or six stories to the top of the obstacle, she had her doubts about that.

  “I’ll go next and help you up. Think of this as a staircase.” Hawke hopped up behind his uncle and turned toward her.

  This was when she wished she were at least half a foot taller. Being petite definitely put her at a disadvantage.

  * * *

  Almost two hours later Kit sat against the cliff, enjoying its coolness, while Hawke investigated the rock slide they had clamored over and Gus went in search of a natural spring nearby to replenish their water. To her there was nothing fascinating in the pile of boulders, but she’d learned that Hawke had once thought of becoming a geologist.

  Stretching out before her was Desolation Canyon with high walls on all sides, cutting it off from the world. She felt as if she were in the center of a large granite bowl, oblong shaped. In the distance several contrastive colors—vermillion to canary—strewed the landscape. Trees no taller than her sprang up from the semidesert floor, blanketed with various shades of seaweed green and earthy tan. There was something almost tranquil about the terrain in front of her. A different kind of beauty but nevertheless God’s.

  Hawke squatted to examine the ground at the base of the largest stone in the rock slide, near the base of the cliff. Digging in the dirt, he scooped it away from a rock and bent closer to inspect it further.

  His movement mesmerized her. He had an efficiency about him that spoke of a man who wasted nothing. She could watch him for hours. She should look away before he caught her staring at him. Out of the corner of her eye Kit saw a large stone plunging toward him, dislodging more on its rapid descent.

  “Hawke!” She vaulted to her feet, dashing forward.

  In a split second, he glanced at her then above him as the sound of the rocks falling magnified tenfold. “Stop,” he shouted as he flew to the side.

  Kit went rigid, her gaze transfixed on the pelting stones hitting the earth, the largest one missing Hawke by mere inches. One of the smaller ones struck him on the back, sending him to the ground while another slammed into the soil near her. She tensed.

  Only seconds later quiet reigned in the canyon while dust clogged the air. The screech of a hawk above propelled Kit into motion. Closing the short distance between them, she knelt in the dirt beside him; her body was racked with coughs while his still one frightened her.

  “Hawke? Are you all right?” She reached out to touch the side of his neck.

  He stirred, his back rising in a deep breath. She sagged against the ground, her heart beating so fast her blood pressure must have shot up forty points. Slowly he rolled over and pushed himself to a sitting position, all color drained from his dust-covered face, his own coughs echoing through the canyon.

  He slumped forward, groaning. “I was engrossed in the petroglyph I found. I know better than that. Thanks for the warning.”

  “How hurt are you?” She peered at the large boulder a foot away then at their surroundings. Slowly the dust settled back to earth.

  He rotated and twisted his torso. “It just knocked the breath from me. Nothing’s broken, but I’m gonna be sore for days.” He stood up, holding his hand out for her. “It could have been a lot worse.”

  Kit took hold of him and rose. The second she was on her feet her legs seemed to liquefy and a violent trembling roiled through her body. Hawke’s arms encircled her and pressed her against his chest.

  “I’m okay, Kit, thanks to you. One second later…”

  She lifted her head to stare up into his face. His gaze ensnared hers, a momentary bond between them reaching across all their differences to connect her to him as she’d never felt. She wanted to melt against him, forget that they were in the middle of nowhere, miles from civilization.

  She opened her mouth, but he laid his finger over her lips. Whatever she was going to say evaporated from her mind. All her senses converged on him, hair tousled, a thin layer of dirt tinting his skin a lighter shade. A glint in his dark eyes captivated her.

  He bent his head toward hers, his finger slipping across her cheek until he plowed his hand into her hair and held her still. She tingled where his warm touch grazed. When he settled his mouth on hers, she dissolved against him, clinging to him. His kiss destroyed all the barriers she’d erected. His kiss mocked her intentions to make her career her focus, to forgo any relationship with a man.

  When he pulled back, the tight band of his embrace loosening then dropping away, she wanted to stop him. She wanted to explore the feelings he’d awakened in her, but even she heard Gus returning. His whistling, which seemed out of character for the old man, alerted her to the fact he’d probably witnessed their kiss and decided to announce his arrival. Hawke further increased the distance between them by hobbling to his backpack and kneeling.

  Glimpsing the rocks about her, Kit moved away from the area as Gus rounded a large boulder, a grin on his weathered face for a few seconds until he presented his usual stolid expression. Kit blushed and looked toward Hawke. He downed several aspirins with a swig of water.

  “What happened?” Gus asked, squatting next to his nephew.

  “Some falling rocks. One hit me on my back, another on my thigh but I’m okay.”

  “Do we go back?” Gus pinned him with a sharp look.

  Waiting the brief moment for Hawke to answer, Kit held her breath. If he needed to leave, she would in a heartbeat. She never wanted to be responsible for another person’s pain ever again. Her older sister nearly died because of her foolishness, and that was something that still haunted her.

  “No, we’re almost there.” Hawke stood and peered at her, his gaze softening. “I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

  “We’ll rest for a few hours.” Gus settled himself under an overhang and closed his eyes.

  Kit started to ask why, but Hawke said, “It’s not a good thing to travel during the hottest part of the day even if it’s only the middle of May. We’ll wait until the sun starts its descent behind that mesa.” He pointed toward the western horizon.

  “How far are the ruins?”

  “At the far end. Another ten hours of hiking.”

  “Then we’ll be camping overnight in Desolation Canyon?”

  “Yes.”

  She’d known they would be gone possibly up to a week and would have to camp out, but now that she was here she could see why the place was named Desolation Canyon. A lone hawk had been the only creature she’d seen since nearing the entrance. The barren, stark landscape reinforced its isolation. There probably wasn’t another human for miles.

  * * *

  He should be dead!

  The Guardian drew back from the edge of the cliff. His gaze fell on his rifle, and he reconsidered using it. He rolled away from the weapon and stared up at the turquoise sky, following a hawk circling above him.

  As much as he would just like to shoot Lonechief and put an end to all this, he couldn’t, now that he had calmed down and thought it through logically. Two outright murders in the past few years, so closely connected to Kit, might look suspicious. Although Lonechief deserved nothing short of death, he couldn’t risk involving Kit in an investigation now, since he was so much a part of her life. Last time the police had focused on Gregory, but they might not this time. Besides, if he killed Hawke, he would also have to shoot the old man. That left Kit trying to make it back on her own. She might not make it.

  No, it had to be an accident, and this wasn’t the place for one. Following them down the canyon would expose him. He’d wait and take care of the guide later on his turf, not Hawke’s.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A cry pierced Kit’s slumber the next morning, luring her toward wakefulness. Exhaustion squashed that desire, and she sank back into sleep, snuggling into the cocoon of warmth. But when she rolled over, something sharp pricked her arm. Her eyes snapped open. In the gray of dawn, she discovered herself beside a prickly pear cactus.

  She scooted away, glancing toward where Hawke and Gus had bedded down for the night. The old man’s sleeping bag was empty. Hawke wrestled with his as if he were fighting someone off. A moan rang through the air.

  She scrambled to her feet and hurried toward him. Was he hurt worse than he’d let on yesterday? Kneeling next to him, she touched his arm.

  His eyes flew open, sweat streaming off his face. “What’s wrong?” Tension threaded through his question as he struggled to sit up.

  “Nothing. I was worried something was wrong with you. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” But his eyes clouded with the same tension she’d heard in his voice.

  “Your uncle is gone.” Concerned for Hawke, Kit sat beside him.

  “He’ll be back. He likes to spend time alone, especially early in the morning.” Hawke kicked off the top of the bag and drew his knees to his chest, as though he needed time to collect himself. “Even when I come to visit, he goes off by himself.”

  After yesterday she felt a connection to Hawke. He was no longer her guide but a friend. Scanning the barren terrain, she wondered who had tramped where she had in the canyon hundreds of years ago. Soon she would know if her theory was correct—if the Spanish lieutenant under Coronado and his party had passed through here.

  “I’m not used to sleeping on the hard ground, either. After this I’ll appreciate my soft mattress.” Kit shifted, and her stiff muscles protested. Wincing, she massaged her calf.

  Hawke gave her a puzzled look.

  “I figured the way you were tossing about the hard ground this isn’t something you are used to, either.”

  “I’ve camped out a lot. Personally I wouldn’t know what to do with a soft bed.”

  “I just assumed your sleeping problem was because of that. What was wrong?”

  The hard set to his features matched the harsh terrain. “Too many bad memories. I should have realized this place would bring them back in full force.”

  “I know what you mean. I’ve had the same nightmare for several years,” she said before she could censor what came out of her mouth.

  “Nightmare? What deep, dark secret could you possibly have?”

  “Everyone has secrets, even me. See, I’m not as boring as you thought.” Her tone flippant, she hoped he would drop the subject because she should never have said anything. There were few she shared her past with.

  “I never thought you were boring.” He chuckled. “You’re many things but not that. What secret keeps you up at night?” His gaze snared hers.

  Beneath the gleam in his eyes, she saw the connection again, instantly traversing the short distance between them to bind her to him. He’d suffered as she had. He would know what it meant to lose a loved one. Maybe he would understand the conflicting emotions she experienced.

  “I was engaged a few years back.” She dragged her regard from him and stared out into the dawn with its shadows lurking in rocky crevices and alcoves. “I thought I was in love and on top of the world. My career was just starting, and I had a man who I wanted to share the rest of my life with.” She paused, unaccustomed to talking about Gregory.

  “I hear a ‘but’ in your voice. What happened?”

  She slanted a glance toward Hawke. Although his expression was serious, there was something in his look that strengthened the bond between them. “He was murdered.”

  “Murdered!” Hawke grew taut, his hands curling into balls.

  “Killed at the altar as I walked down the aisle on our wedding day.”

  Hawke sucked in a deep breath. “He was the one you told me about earlier.”

  “Yes.” She remembered how close she had come to telling him about Gregory then. “But on top of all that, he wasn’t the man I thought he was. He had a girlfriend in another city who he was still carrying on with, and he had gambling debts. Large ones that would have taken years for him to pay off.” She shrugged, although her feelings were anything but nonchalant. “I guess he needed a lot of money since he was living a double life. I’d even loaned him some, which I never saw again. I didn’t know I was feeding his addiction.”

  “Did the police find the murderer?”

  “No, but they think it was connected to his gambling. He was associated with some unsavory people.” She laced her fingers together in her lap. “At first I thought witnessing his death was the worse thing about it.” Looking at Hawke, she tightened her grip. “But I’m not so sure that was. When I discovered the depth of his betrayal, I nearly fell apart.” Tears welled into her eyes, blurring her image of him. “That was when I decided I was better off concentrating on my career. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past two years.”

  Hawke grazed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear that had rolled down her face. “One bad relationship isn’t uncommon. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “The worst part is that there was a small bit of time where I was relieved that Gregory was killed before I’d married him.” More wet tracks coursed down her cheeks. She swiped them away, but they were instantly replaced with others. “I felt so guilty about that. Still do. No matter what Gregory did to me, he didn’t deserve to die like that.”

  Hawke covered her hands with his and hauled her to his side. Slipping his arm around her, he pressed her against him. A tremor flowed through her.

  “After Gregory, I came to the conclusion that I’m no good with relationships.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I get the impression you have a whole network of friends.”

  And you’ve made it clear you aren’t in that network. Just my guide. “I’m not talking about friendship relationships. I’m talking about a man/woman one. Happily ever after.”

  He tensed. “Marriage is a lot of hard work.”

  “Hard work for me has never been a problem. I really shouldn’t be surprised about my lack of ability to choose the right man for myself. My father wasn’t exactly the best example, and he took every opportunity to let me know I was worthless as a daughter.” She heard the words she uttered as though another person had said them. She never talked about her dad, and here she’d gone and told Hawke. Why him, Lord?

  The comforting feel of Hawke’s hand as he rubbed it up and down her arm conveyed more support than she’d ever received from her father. Although Hawke was silent, his presence seemed to say, Let go of the past.

  “My dad loved alcohol more than his family, and as I got older, it got worse. Finally he left us, but my sister and I had already grown up in a household full of anger and fear.”

  “How old were you when he left?”

  “Twelve. We never heard from him again.”

  “I’m sorry, but you were better off without him.”

  “I know.” She twisted toward Hawke to look at him. “I’ve never told anyone that last part. I shouldn’t have…” She tried to draw away.

  His embrace tightened. “I’m glad you shared that with me. It helps sometimes to talk about it. I believe you told me that one time.”

  “Then tell me about your nightmare.”

  He tensed, but his arm remained around her shoulders.

  The silence between them lengthened as the day brightened.

  Kit started to take back her request when he finally said, “I was so eager to show Pamela the countryside that I loved and wanted to return to. Now I wished I had never come home to visit even though I wasn’t happy living in New York City. At least she would still be alive today.”

  His pain tore at her composure. She needed to comfort as he had. She took his hand within hers and waited for him to continue.

  “The ground by the edge of the cliff gave way. I couldn’t stop her from falling.”

  “Sometimes there’s nothing we can do.” She remembered holding Gregory in her arms, feeling his last rattling breath, willing life back into him.

  “You don’t understand. I managed to get a grip on a couple of her fingers, but it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t hoist her up. I’d gone soft living in New York, working all the time in an office. She fell to her death seconds before I could get a better grasp on her hand. The look of terror on her face will stay with me always.”

  As would the look of total love and devotion in Gregory’s, which she now knew was a lie. She clamped her teeth so tightly her neck muscles ached with the strain.

  Emotions electrified the air, not a sound resonated through the quiet.

  “I know you, Hawke. You did what you could. It was an accident.”

  “We’d stopped to enjoy the view. While dropping my backpack, I turned away from her. If I hadn’t…” He stared at the ground, his features as stark as the landscape. “When I turned back, she’d moved too close to the edge. I started toward her, opening my mouth to tell her to come forward. I know how precarious the edge can be. The words never left my lips. It happened so fast all I could do was react, but I’ve kept going over and over the sequence in my head. Could I have done something else to save her?”