Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

Jake tried a couple of moves. The old horse responded to his touch. “Hey, it’s kind of like driving a stick shift,” he said, making a lame joke.

Kira’s laugh was musical. “It’s even easier than that,” she said. “Come on, let’s try the trail now. Just give him his head. He knows the way.”

They passed under the ranch’s high gate and headed down the trail, riding single file. The path wound among jutting clumps of rock, lacy mesquite and paloverde trees, and stands of blooming cactus, all silvered by the moonlight. The old horse’s gait was sure and steady, the slight rocking motion strangely soothing. Jake found himself shifting his balance in time, matching the horse’s rhythm.

They reached the flat rock where he and Kira had sat and talked on his first day here. The lights of Tucson glowed in the distance. He was expecting Kira to stop and turn back. Instead she swung her mare to the right and vanished downhill, into the shadows of the canyon.

The new trail was steep. Jake had to lean back to keep from sagging forward over the saddle horn, but he soon adjusted to the slanting posture. Sure-footed as ever, Dynamite plodded along the switchbacks. The air felt cooler here. Leaves fluttered in the canyon breeze. From somewhere below came the splash of water and the trill of frog calls.

Farther down, where the trail leveled out, Kira signaled a halt. “We’ll tie the horses and walk from here,” she said. “It isn’t very far.”

Following her example, Jake swung out of the saddle, dropped to the ground and looped the reins around a sapling. His legs felt rubbery from straddling the horse. He was going to be sore in the morning.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“It’s a surprise. One of my favorite places. Come on.”

He followed her along a path that was too rocky and narrow for the horses. The moonlight, shining through the trees, made lacy patterns on the ground. The splash and gurgle of water was close now, but still out of sight.

“We aren’t going skinny-dipping, are we?” he teased, thinking to lighten the moment.

“You could try it,” she said. “But the water’s cold. You’d freeze.”

“So what’s so special about the place?”

“Nothing. It’s just beautiful—and peaceful. So please don’t spoil it by asking questions.”

Jake followed her in silence. They emerged moments later through a thicket of willows into a cleari

ng, where a trickling waterfall cascaded over the rocks into a shallow pool. The golden disk of the moon cast a shimmering reflection in the dark mirror of the water.

“See? Didn’t I tell you?” Kira whispered.

“You were right,” he said. “No more questions.”

A cool night breeze blew down the canyon. Kira shivered in her light cotton shirt. Acting on impulse, Jake stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “You’re cold,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she responded, but she didn’t pull away, even when his arms tightened around her.

“Thank you for sharing this place with me.” Jake could feel her heart pounding against him. She smelled of the lavender soap stocked in the guest cabins. But on her skin, the aroma became sensual, even arousing.

“I like to come here when I’m feeling stressed,” she said. “It reminds me that the world isn’t such a fearful place after all. Sometimes I bring Paige along. She loves it, too.”

He resisted the impulse to turn her in his arms and kiss her right then. Instead he asked, “What do you find so fearful about the world, Kira? What are you afraid of?”

She was silent, thinking. After a moment, she spoke. “Losing the people I love, or hurting them. Not being there to keep bad things from happening.”

“You can’t keep bad things from happening. Maybe some, but not all of them.”

“I know. That’s what scares me. It scares me all the time.”

He did kiss her then, lifting her chin with his thumb and pulling her gently around so he could find her lips. A brush, a nibble, he took his time, tasting her, slowly deepening the contact. A quiver passed through her body as he flicked the tip of his tongue into her mouth—pausing just there, knowing that to push too far, in this isolated place, could give her the wrong idea. Better to leave her curious, maybe even wanting more.

For the space of a breath, he held her, then freed her to back away. The kiss had been gentle, almost chaste, but they were both breathing hard.

“Don’t say that didn’t happen,” he said. “Believe me, it did.”

“I know.” She faced him, with moonlight sculpting her features as she pulled herself together. “But that isn’t why I brought you here.”