He understood, and he, too, smiled-a smile that was its own thank you.

"You're not alone, Jamie. I'm here. And I'm not going away."

And he kissed her again, and she allowed herself, timidly, as though this was the first kiss of her life, to return his kiss.

She knew what was about to happen, she knew she wanted it to happen, and she prayed that it would be all right.

But even as he began to undo the top b.u.t.tons of her shirt, her hands reflexively, nervously, covered his.

He spoke so quietly. "Don't be afraid, Jamie." He opened the first b.u.t.tons. "It's going to be all right."

She was afraid, but she took a deep breath. Then a second deep breath. She relaxed a little and, with a nod, let him know she wouldn't stop him.

He slipped the shirt back from her shoulders. He kissed the base of her throat. And she knew she would not stop him. He undid all the b.u.t.tons and let her shirt fall to the ground, and she didn't stop him. She even surprised herself by reaching up and taking off his hat. She dropped it onto the ground and touched, with timid fingers the black waves of his hair that fell over his brow. His arms tightened around her. She slid her hands timidly across his shoulders, across the soft fabric of his shirt, across the hard muscle underneath. And then it was her own hands fingering the pearled snaps of his shirt, ready to pull them apart. Suddenly she couldn't get enough of him, she wanted his bare chest exposed. Then he was in her arms and she was in his and neither one of them knew the air had grown cold around them. Only as the first raindrops fell did they slowly realize that while they had been oblivious to all of nature except themselves, the storm had arrived with its lightning and thunder and they were in a downpour. The rain was pelting them hard and even as they grasped what was happening, small hailstones began to clatter against the rocks, bouncing slightly, raising little dusty puffs.

And suddenly it seemed terribly funny. It was nature's force and not Jamie's fears that stopped them-and they were laughing, grabbing their clothes and running for their vehicles. Cal encircled Jamie's body with his own, one hand holding her steady as they ran across the quickly-muddying, suddenly slippery dirt, and propelling her at the same time toward her car.

"We better get out of here."

As they ran, the lightning flashed repeatedly, brilliantly, turning the road and the trees and the rocks around them arc-light bright. The crashing thunder was now directly above them, violent in its intensity, and in the midst of another lightning strike, just as Cal's hand grabbed at the door handle of Jamie's car to pull it open, just as everything turned brilliantly green-white, they were both stopped dead in their tracks.

From somewhere in the rocks high above them, the air was doubly split by the scream, lost instantly in the midst of the thunder, of an animal in sudden pain. At the far-off sound, Cal's head turned quickly and Jamie saw his face in the white light. He looked stricken, as though the lightning blow had fallen on him also. His rain-soaked face, his black hair plastered down, his half-bare body tensed, frozen in mid-stride-in the airborne electric light, she saw his own terrible pain, his own awful loss. She felt an unaccountable sorrow wash through her, and she touched his face. He turned to let his mouth rest against the palm of her hand momentarily. Then his face changed, and he smiled at her.

"That d.a.m.ned lightning's going to fry us, too, if we don't get out of here," he said, and together they struggled awkwardly into their wet clothes.

And on a rock ledge, far out of sight above them, the stricken animal writhed in pain, its beautiful pelt scorched by the lightning strike from shoulder to paw.

He followed her down the canyon in the pickup and when she arrived in her driveway, he pulled in behind her. He got out and ran through the rain to her car and got in quickly next to her.

"Well, I don't see any smoke coming out of there," he said. "Looks like we won't have to save his life just yet."

She looked toward the house.

"No, it looks like all's quiet in TV land."

"Would you like me to come in and meet him?"

"No. I couldn't bear that. Anyway, he's probably pa.s.sed out, this time of night."

"I'm going to have to meet him some time, Jamie."

"Not yet. Not tonight."

"All right then." He leaned over and kissed her, lightly. "Will I see you tomorrow?" He kissed her again. "Seems to me we forgot about something back there." He gestured vaguely up the road behind them. "We need to make some plans."

She smiled at him. "Sure. Tomorrow night." She kissed him, a token kiss. A promise. Then they both got out of her car and she went into the house and he got into his truck and drove away into the drenching rain.

Chapter Seventeen.

Sat.u.r.day morning broke clean and quiet. The storm had moved on east and Sharperville's valley was returned to its ordinary, peaceful rhythms. The hawks and turkey buzzards patrolled the dark blue skies and the cattle grazed contentedly, their customary forage freshened by last night's rains. Jamie slept late-and well-and awoke as contented as the grazing cows, with secret, private smiles as last night replayed itself in her memory. But she could not remain contented for more than a few minutes. The harsh realities of her life were waiting for her, as full of unrelenting menace as an army of monsters. And her sense of a possible turn in the tide of her fortune was as fragile as the new growth that had sprung with last night's rain. But at least she felt sure that when tonight came, Cal would not have disappeared.

Gradually, as all the sleep cleared from her head, the day ahead of her took shape, her energies began to flow. It was to be a day of ch.o.r.es for Cal and for her, there were errands to take care of. Later on, they would meet and start making their plans.

In fifteen minutes she had showered and slipped into a pair of clean jeans and a fresh white shirt and gathered her hair quickly into a colorful ribbon at the back of her neck. She stepped barefoot into a pair of loafers and ran downstairs to make a fast cup of coffee before leaving. Her first errand of the morning was to take Mandy's gift-the sachet she'd bought in Salt Lake-over to the Nixons' house. It would normally be a day of Sat.u.r.day errands for Edna Nixon, too, and Jamie wanted to be there before Edna left the house.

On her way out, she paused at the front door only long enough to look at her father, who was asleep on the couch. One arm dangled from the couch and his hand rested limply on the floor. His other hand was half-way tucked into the top of his pants, pants that were baggy and worn, frayed at the cuffs. Jamie looked at the sleeping man and felt only sorrow.

How thin he is.

She sighed as she turned to open the door.

And Cal's right. Of course I'd try to save him.

She closed the door quietly so as not to wake him.

By ten o'clock, she was waiting on the Nixons' porch, holding Mandy's gift in her hand. She poked at the pink bow, puffing it up, wondering what was keeping Edna. Someone must be at home. Their car was parked at the side of the house, and she could hear movement in the house, feet shuffling, doors opening and closing. She knocked again, harder this time.

At last the door opened, and Ervil was there, a pair of Edna's shoes in his hand. He peered at Jamie as though he wasn't sure who she was.

"Jamie?"

His eyes were narrowed at her, suspicious, as though trying to figure out a puzzle.

"Is Mandy here, Ervil? Or Edna? I know it's not my regular Sat.u.r.day, but I have a little gift for Mandy," she held up the box, pretty in its fancy, flowery paper and bright ribbons, "and I wanted to leave it off for her."

"No, Edna's not here." Ervil's eyes looked funny, as though they suddenly got empty. "Edna's sick. Real bad sick. Doc Wallis had me take her up to the hospital in Salt Lake last night. I just got back." He looked like he wanted to put the shoes down but couldn't think where to put them, as though he couldn't remember where he was.

Jamie forced herself to say the proper thing. "I'm sorry to hear that, Ervil. I hope she'll be feeling better soon."

She wondered why she didn't have the nerve to speak her real thoughts. Why couldn't she say, maybe that means the good Lord has finally pointed His finger of judgment at the old witch.

"She's not going to be getting better." Ervil said blankly. "The docs up there in Salt Lake say she isn't going to make it. They say it's her heart. It's real bad." Ervil was looking around him, confused. "I gotta go back. I just came down to get some things for her."

"But where's Mandy?" Jamie was suddenly alarmed. "She's not in Salt Lake, is she?" She tried to look past Ervil, into the house, seeing no sign of the child.

"No, she's here in Sharperville, I guess. I had Ray take her. Probably she's with him. I called him last night to come get her, but he wasn't home. That girl friend of his was there. Tina? She came and picked the kid up."

He turned away and went into the front parlor, with Jamie right on his heels. She was trying to get the distracted man to pay attention to her and the words were spilling frantically out of her.

"She's with Ray? No, Ervil, she can't stay with Ray! She can't!"

"Well, she's just going to have to. There's no one here can look after her, what with Edna sick and all." Ervil sat down on a straight-backed chair near the window and put the shoes on the table next to him as though that was the very spot he'd been looking for all the time. "She'll have to stay with Ray from now on. He's going to have to look after her. He's her father, ain't he? I just hope he sees properly to the child's spiritual life. That's what Edna would want." Ervil's chest heaved in a big, helpless sigh. "But there's no telling with that boy."

His eyes wandered aimlessly around the room and then finally focused on Jamie, as though he'd figured out at last who she was and what she was doing there. He gestured toward the beribboned box in her hand and added abstractedly, "You can leave that off if you want, but I don't know as how I'll be seeing the kid again."

"Never mind." Jamie had to get to Mandy right away, get her away from Ray. "I'll give it to her myself." She didn't even say goodbye as she let the front door slam shut behind her, leaving Ervil staring slackly into the empty room.

She had the Civic pulling up in front of Ray's trailer home in a matter of minutes. Sharperville's few short streets end abruptly in open rangeland and the trailer was set well off by itself, beyond the last of the streets, on three dusty acres, with only a rough dirt road leading up to it.

Jamie slammed to a stop and was out of the car instantly. In a moment she was knocking on the door, pounding on the door, yelling at the top of her voice.

"Ray! d.a.m.n it, Ray!"

She pulled violently at the handle, but the door was locked. She tried to see into the windows but there was no sign of anyone. Helplessly, she slammed her hand once, hard, against the locked door, and then ran back to her car. The rising waves of panic were taking over her rational self and she sat still for a minute, gripping the wheel, trying to get control of herself, of her feelings, of her thoughts.

Oh, G.o.d! Let her be all right. Please let her be all right.

Her hands were shaking as she started the engine. She turned the car around sharply, and in a moment was racing for the main road, heading for the Jackman ranch.

I need help. I need Cal!

She found him at the far end of the alfalfa field where he'd just finished repairing the fence. His tools were already loaded into the truck, and he was putting a coil of wire and a bucket of staples into the bed when her car pulled to a noisy stop on the dirt road.

He needed only one glance at her face. The color was drained away beneath her tan, and her blue eyes were frantic with fear and anger and frustration. He tossed the wire into the truck and took a few long strides toward her.

"Jamie, honey. What's happened?"

He tried to put his arms around her, but she was too distracted to let him. Instead, she walked to his truck, and slammed her hand against the tailgate, and then she strode back to him and then away again, this time to the fence, then back and around him. She was like an animal, looking for a way out of its cage.

"All right," she was saying as she paced frantically. Her tone carried a challenge. "All right. I'm coming to you for help. You said, I can come to you for help? All right, I'm in real trouble now and I'm coming to you. I need help. I need help real bad. You've got to help me, Cal." She stopped in front of him and her eyes filled with tears.

Cal didn't try to touch her. "What's happened?"

"It's Mandy. Ray's got her. Edna's sick, real sick, up in Salt Lake in a hospital and Ervil doesn't even know what he's doing, he's totally out of it. The doctors say Edna's going to die, so Ervil just handed Mandy over to Ray like she was a package or something. He doesn't even expect to take her back. Tina took her away last night and there's no one in the trailer and I haven't any idea where they are, where they've got her!"

Cal was sorting it out cautiously. "Well, darlin'," he said thoughtfully, "according to the law, Ray has the right to have Mandy with him."

That pushed her right to the edge, beyond caring what she said. "Yeah? Well, screw that!" She turned away from him and walked to the nearest fence post. She slammed it hard with her hand and then turned and came back to him. "You don't understand. I promised her! I told her I would see to it that she wouldn't have to be alone with Ray and Tina ever again." She was crying, but they tears were of rage; there were no tears in her voice. "I'll kidnap her if I have to, I mean it, Cal. I will."

Her tension had been strung too tight for her to bear and Cal's arms went around her protectively. "I know, honey," he said. "I understand. And you're not going to have to kidnap her. We're going to get her back."

"Okay. You just tell me how." She was tense as a drum in his arms.

"Well, for starters, we're going to do it legally. Mostly legally, anyway. Shoot, darlin', I don't want my girl winding up in the slammer."

His tone was easy, his kiss was feather-light on her hair, and his voice, so gentle and steady, helped her breathe again, a little more calmly.

Grudgingly, she began to settle down. "You better have a suggestion," she said. "Or I'm going to do something serious. I mean it, Cal."

"I know, sweetheart. I know. And I do have a plan. Thought we might talk about it tonight, but maybe it's best we don't, after all. The thing is, we don't want to risk having you too much involved."

"What do you mean not involved.' How can I not be-"

He stopped her with a calming gesture of his hand, stroking her hair back from her face. "You've got a court fight coming up and you've got to be absolutely clean. You leave this part to me. We're going to have to move fast and I know what I'll be looking for. But don't worry, Jamie. I'll be needing your help, so for sure there'll be plenty for you to do. You just hop into the truck while I get some stuff I need back here."

"You better know what you're doing."

"Trust me," he said, as he reached into the truck's bed and pulled out his toolbox. "It'll be okay."

She climbed into the cab and while she waited for him, she took a couple of deep breaths and had a quick little talk with herself.

You asked for his help. You came to him for help, you asked him to do something, so don't go trying to stop him, now that he's doing it.

Cal poked through a number of items in the toolbox and then muttered, "One of these should do." He removed a few small-size picks and dropped them into the pocket of his jeans. He checked his cell phone to be sure it was fully charged. Then he went around the front, hoisted his long frame onto the driver's seat, and started the engine.

"Okay," he said, backing the truck around on the dirt road and heading toward the state highway. "Show me where that trailer is."

"The very first street this side of town," she said. "Take a right on Eighth South and go way past all the houses. It's about a mile east of Main."

"Okay. Now, when we get there, if you don't see any sign that Ray has come back since you were there, I want you to leave me and drive away. Not too far. Stay right where you can see if he's coming back. If you see him, call my cell. Let it ring just once; I'll know that means he's on his way. Then, you just take off. Don't worry about me. I'll be long gone before he arrives. Otherwise, if he doesn't show, swing by and pick me up in exactly fifteen minutes. I won't need any more time than that."

"You're going into the trailer?"

"You betcha."

"That's breaking and entering!"

"Yup." He took his eyes off the road for a moment to smile at her. "Burglary, too, I guess. Don't worry, honey. I'll be real surprised if I don't find what I'm looking for."

Jamie took a deep breath and nodded once, knowing he'd say nothing more about it. At least, not for now. She turned away and stared out the window and started to chew on her thumbnail. It was probably a good thing she didn't see Cal take the big Smith and Wesson from the pocket in the door at his side and slip it into his belt at the small of his back. He lifted the tail of his shirt over the revolver to cover it. Then he looked over at her and he grinned. He reached over and took her hand from her mouth and brought it to his lips.

"It's going to be all right, Jamie," he said, kissing the rough fingernail gently. "Nothing's going to go wrong."

Cal waited till Jamie was out of sight. Then he pulled the tiny picks from his pocket and selected one. It took him only a moment to open the lock and let himself into the trailer home. He hadn't expected that Tina and Ray would be strong on housekeeping, so he wasn't surprised by the mess of papers and clothes and dirty dishes that littered the place. On the kitchen counter, he found the usual drug paraphernalia. Pipes, foil, a bottle of chlorine. A mess of steel wool, baking soda, gla.s.s vials. A scale. He took several pictures with his phone, making sure to get enough of the background to identify the location.

On the floor, shoved up against a cabinet in the corner of the kitchen, he found a crumpled bag made of a stiff, thick plastic. The blue logo stamped on its side was clearly visible and its interior was cloudy with a white dust which, Cal was sure, a laboratory a.n.a.lysis would show to be cocaine or heroin. He had no doubt that Ray had lifted a single kilo package of the drug for his private purposes, either business or pleasure. Skimming was a dangerous game, but Cal suspected that Ray was just dumb enough to try to play it.

A fast look over the rest of the place, over the unmade bed, the shoes and sweaters and pants spilling out of dresser drawers, cigarette-laden ashtrays, and Cal saw, on the table next to the bed, a couple of used syringes, more evidence that Ray was a user as well as a distributor. He had already noted a couple of cell phones and a beeper unit on the coffee table in the living room area. Those, together with the short-wave radio on the floor next to the front door, had confirmed his certainty, as soon as he entered the trailer, that Ray was using the electronic gear to signal ground coordinates to planes coming from Mexico.

As ugly as the disordered mess was, Cal was glad to see it. The clutter suited his purpose.

"Just as well. They'll never know anyone's been through this place."

He rifled quickly through the dresser drawers, finding only a couple of loaded pistols mixed in with Tina's panties and bras and another pistol in the drawer next to Ray's socks. A big Ruger .45 was in the nightstand along with a box of cartridges and few packs of detonator caps.

"Stupid sonofab.i.t.c.h."