Carla used the box to hold her most valued possession. Not jewelry, but a simple shard of pottery, another gift from Luke. She had been fourteen and recently orphaned when he had given the odd gift to her. She had never forgotten that moment or the tawny depths of his eyes or his deep, gentle voice trying to reach past her terrible loss and give her what comfort he could.
I found this in September Canyon and thought of you. You can look at this bit of clay and know that a long time ago a woman shaped a pot, decorated it, fed her family from it, maybe even passed it on to her children or her children’s children. One day the pot broke and another pot was made and another family was fed until that pot broke and another was made in a cycle as old as life. It’s hard, but it isn’t cruel. It’s simply the way life is. Whatever is made is eventually unmade and then remade again.
The shard nestled into Carla’s palm like an angular shadow. The black finish of the pottery was set off by white lines. The geometries looked random now, but the whole pot would have revealed patterns that were only hinted at in the shard.
And that, too, was what Luke had told Carla. Then he had held her while she wept and finally accepted that her parents were gone and would never come back again.
For a moment, echoes of past tears ached in Car-la’s throat. Very carefully she replaced the shard in its velvet-lined nest Looking back, she knew it had begun then, the years of incoherent longings that had condensed into puppy love, first love, a girl’s stumbling progress toward womanhood; it had begun with the ancient pot shard and culminated in an emotion that was as much a part of Carla as breath itself.
As the truth sank into Carla, she measured the depth of the mistake she had made in coming back to the Rocking M; there was no schoolgirl infatuation to be exorcised by a summer’s proximity to the everyday reality of Luke MacKenzie. She loved Luke with a woman’s timeless, unbounded love. She could more easily sever her right hand from her wrist than she could cut Luke from her soul.
With trembling fingers Carla set the small box back onto the dresser. Just as she turned away, the downstairs telephone rang. She grabbed her robe and raced out of the bedroom.
"Hello?"
"Caught you sleeping, didn’t I?" Cash asked.
"Nope. I’ve become a card-carrying member of the Dawn Brigade since I came to the Rocking M."
Cash laughed. "Well, go back to bed, little sister. I won’t be out to pick you up until late afternoon."
"Why?"
"The Jeep is on strike."
"What happened?"
"Who knows?"
"You needn’t sound so cheerful about it"
"Sorry, sis. I’ll do my best to get out there by four o’clock."
"But it will be too late to go to September Canyon by then and rain showers are predicted tonight and if we aren’t on the other side of Picture Wash before it fills it may be days before we can cross!"
"I’m sorry, Carla. Look, maybe I can borrow a truck and – "
"No," she interrupted, feeling guilty for jumping on Cash for something that was beyond his control. "It’s all right. I’ve just been looking forward to seeing September Canyon after all these years of hearing about it."
"Why don’t you get Luke to drive you over? He needs a few days off."
The thought of having Luke to herself within the cliff-rimmed silence of the canyon was enough to make Carla’s pulse ragged. Yet in the next instant her heartbeat settled to normal, because she knew Luke would refuse to go with her. She had asked him several times to take her to September Canyon; each time he had said no, it was too far to go for just an hour or two of looking around.
"Luke is pretty busy," Carla said neutrally. "If nothing else works out, I'll just drive on ahead. Luke has told me that the canyon isn’t hard to find, it’s just remote. You can catch up with me when you get your malevolent Jeep straightened out."
There was a silence during which Carla sensed her brother’s reluctance to agree to her going to September Canyon without him.
"Promise you won’t try rock climbing alone?" he asked at last.
"Of course not I won’t sleep in dry washes during a thunderstorm, either," she added sardonically.
"And if you find any ruins, you won’t poke around in them unless someone else is with you?"
"Cash – " she began.
"Promise me, Carla. From what I’ve heard, some of the floors in those ruins are damned risky."
She sighed. "Cash, I’m twenty-one. I won’t do anything foolish, but I won’t be hamstrung, either. I’ve wanted to see September Canyon for seven years. I’ve worked for weeks and weeks with only a handful of days off in order to save up time. I’m going camping with or without you. If that upsets you, I’m sorry. You’ll simply have to trust me."
"What if the Jeep can’t be fixed or the rains come and you’re stranded in the canyon for a week?"
"I have enough supplies for me for two weeks, remember? I’m carrying your food, too."
"What if it snows?"
"In August?" Carla laughed. "C’mon, big brother, you can do better than that. At this time of year I’m far more likely to get sunstroke than frostbite and you know it."
Unwillingly, Cash chuckled. "All right, all right. Let me put it this way, sis. My head knows you’re old enough and smart enough to take care of yourself. My gut keeps telling me to protect you."
"Give your gut a rest. Your head did a find job of teaching me how to camp in wild places."
"Won’t you be afraid to be alone?"
"Would you?" she asked quickly.
Cash sighed. There was silence for a moment before he said softly, "Okay. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can."
"Thanks, Cash."
"For what?" he muttered. "You would have gone anyway, whether I liked it or not."
"Yes, but thanks for trusting me anyway."
"You’re a big girl, Carla. It just takes a little getting used to. Give yourself a hug for me."
"You, too."
Smiling, Carla hung up the phone. The smile faded as she acknowledged to herself the real reason she was going on to September Canyon alone; she was afraid if she stayed at the ranch house one more night, she would say something she would spend the rest of her life regretting.
Something like Ilove you, Luke.
Thirty minutes later Carla had washed, dressed, eaten breakfast and was looking for a good place to leave her note explaining what had happened to Cash’s perverse Jeep. Finally she taped the note to the kitchen faucet, knowing that the first thing Luke did at the end of a day was to wash up for dinner.
"I'm coming, damn it!" Luke muttered to the imperiously ringing phone.
Luke told himself that he had come back to the ranch house early to see if Carla had made coffee before she and Cash left, but he knew it was a lie. He was coming in to see Carla before she left – and he was too late, or the damned phone wouldn’t be ringing. The kitchen’s screen door slammed behind Luke as he strode angrily across the room toward the phone, which had been ringing relentlessly. Fourteen times, by last count.
The lack of savory odors and edible tidbits struck Luke forcefully as he reached for the phone. Without Carla, the kitchen was about as welcoming as the corral trough on a winter morning.
Get used to it, cowboy, he advised himself. And not for the few days she’s camping. A few weeks from now the bet ends.