CHAPTER 7

“Mecate?” Gina murmured, the rest of the world returning to her eyes.

Matt almost kissed her again in an attempt to drive it back out. But with McCord sitting there on a big, black dirt bike, scowling at them as if he’d caught them doing the nasty in front of the local preschool class, he doubted he’d have any luck.

Why had he kissed her?

Because, simply, he hadn’t been able to stop.

“You’re Teo,” Gina said. “Right?”

Her voice quavered, and Matt’s hands, still cupped around her hips, clenched. He wanted to put them around Jase McCord’s throat and squeeze. He’d have told her the truth himself.

Eventually.

“I am Teo,” he said; then, because he needed to tell her every truth he could to try to erase every lie, he corrected, “Or I was. Teo is what my mother called me.”

“Mateo.” Gina stepped away, and Matt’s hands fell back to his sides. He continued to clench them; maybe then they wouldn’t feel so empty. “Mateo Mecate?”

“That’s him.” McCord strode over, inserting his wide shoulders between Matt and Gina as if he were afraid Matt might hurt her.

Again.

“Moldy, old Dr. Mecate,” Gina murmured.

“I’m sorry?” Matt asked.

“Not yet,” McCord answered. “But you’re gonna be.”

Matt ignored him. The only thing that mattered now was her.

“Gina.” Matt stepped to the side so he could see around the other man’s bulk. “I can exp—”

“We called you moldy Mecate,” she said. “We thought you were…” She looked Matt up and down, and her lip curled. “Old.”

“I’m not. I’m…” He spread his hands. “Me.”

Now those lips flattened, and suddenly he wanted the curl back. “You’re not you. Or at least not the you you said you were. You’re not Teo Jones.”

Matt winced. The Jones part had been a mistake. But everything else was true.

Mostly.

“Who do you think you are, man?” McCord’s grin was so wide, he appeared ready to laugh out loud or maybe break into song. He had to have been dancing since he discovered the truth. “Indiana Jones?”

“What?”

“Dr. Jones. Archaeology professor. You wanna dig deep down and discover buried treasure.” McCord snorted. “Where’s your whip and your hat? You got a hard-on for Harrison Ford or something?

Right now any hard-on Matt might have had was fading fast. Thank God. Because the others had begun to duck out of their tents and gather around to watch.

“You practically told me who you were,” Gina murmured. “As if Teo is that far off of Mateo, and then Dr. Jones—” She rolled her eyes as if she, or maybe he, was the biggest idiot ever born.

“I don’t…” Matt paused, because suddenly he did understand. He’d chosen Jones because Smith seemed too obviously a false name, but he wanted something simple, something he could remember. It had never occurred to him that the name of the Harrison Ford character all his flighty students adored was Dr. Jones.

How could he be both so smart and so dumb at the same time? It was a gift.

“I didn’t—” he began.

“Oh, I’d say you did,” McCord said. “Or at least you were going to.”

“Will you shut up,” Matt said between gritted teeth.

“Nope.” McCord stuck his thumbs in his belt and rocked back on his boot heels, clearly enjoying this so much he could hardly stand it.

Matt wanted to punch him, something he could never before remember wanting. Violence didn’t solve anything. He’d studied enough wars to understand that.

However, he thought it might make him feel better to smash his fist into that smirking face. And right now Matt felt so bad it might be worth getting his own face smashed in just for the tiny bit of joy he’d receive from popping Jase McCord in his noble Native nose.

“What happened?” Amberleigh asked, her volume causing several birds to start up from nearby trees.

“Shh, dear.” Melda’s bright blue gaze switched among Matt, Gina, and McCord as she chewed on her lip. “Not our business.”

“Then why are we out here watchin’,” Mel wondered, “when we could be in the tent f—?”

“Anyone want coffee?” Tim announced, and any birds that had remained in the vicinity followed their friends to Canada. “I’m buying.”

No one took Tim up on the offer. Because they all knew there wasn’t a Starbucks for miles or because they didn’t care that it wasn’t their business since the scene unfolding in front of them was the most excitement they’d had in years?

You could take the kid off the playground, but you never, ever took the playground out of the kid. Even Matt, who’d never been on a playground, knew this as well as he knew his own name.

All of them.

If there was going to be a fight, no one wanted to miss it.

“What were you hoping to do?” Gina asked. “What possible reason could you have for not telling me the truth?”

“I … uh … well…” Matt took a deep breath. Why had pretending to be someone else seemed like a great idea? Now that he’d been outted, it merely seemed like the foolish stunt it was. Wasn’t that always the way? Matt released his breath on a rush. “I got nothin’.”

“Nothing?” Gina’s voice was deceptively calm, excruciatingly soft. “You almost had me.”

“No, Gina, it isn’t what you think.”

“You weren’t trying to ingratiate yourself with the owner? Get me into bed, make me think that I was special, then beg just one little favor?”

“No.” At her frown, he hurried onward, shoving that foot in his mouth so far down his throat it was a wonder he could talk at all. “I wanted to check the place out. See if it— See if you—” The expression on her face made him stop.

“You were spying on us?”

“No. Well, yes. But not you. The area.”

“And this.” She waved her hand to indicate what had passed between them.

“That was between you and me. It had nothing, whatsoever, to do with my work.”

One of the horses snorted; then several others answered, making it seem as if none of them believed Matt, either.

“You wouldn’t answer my calls, my e-mails, my letters,” he pressed on. “When I got here you tore up the most recent message right in front of me. What was I supposed to do?”

“Find some other ranch to trash?” McCord asked amiably.

Matt ignored him, focusing on Gina. “Just listen to me, Gina. Let me explain why this is so important.”

“Important enough to pretend you liked me,” she murmured. “Must be life-or-death stuff.”

Matt frowned, confused. “Pretend?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “Lie, cheat, act like you care. Remember?”

“I told you that wasn’t how it was. How it is.”

“Right. Because a guy like you—” She waved her hand to indicate … His head? His face? He wasn’t sure. “Is gonna be interested in a girl like me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She laughed, though the sound was watery. There were tears there somewhere waiting to spill out, and Matt hated himself. “Never mind,” she said. “Go on. Tell me why you had to do this. What’s so damn important about my land that you just can’t let it go?”

There was something going on he didn’t understand. But if Matt couldn’t convince her now, he was not only never going to be able to vindicate both his mother’s work and his own, but he’d also never find out what in hell she was talking about.

“You aren’t actually thinking of listening to this guy, are you?” McCord seemed a little worried, and Matt’s panic lessened.

This was the path to what he wanted. Tell Gina everything. Or almost everything. He should probably leave out the sorcerer. That usually made people stop listening, if not right away, then shortly thereafter. But he could convince her with the parts of the theory that didn’t sound crazy. He had to. He just wished he didn’t have to do it in front of all these people.

Once he made his case, Gina would agree to let him dig. Hell, maybe she’d even help.

Matt pulled the copy of the photograph out of his pocket, smoothed the paper, then held it up so she could see.

Gina took one look at it, paled, and said, “Get him out of here.”

*   *   *

“Wait. What? No!” Teo, or whatever he called himself now, insisted. “Gina, you have to listen—”

She snatched the photo out of his hands and walked away.

When she reached the banked fire she crouched, poking up the flames, then feeding them twigs. As soon as they licked upward again, Gina tossed the thing on top.

She’d destroyed every hard copy she had and deleted the file. She never wanted to see that place again, not even on film. Where had he gotten it?

“Internet,” she muttered. Where nothing ever died.

Gina rubbed her eyes. She felt numb, and she needed not to be. She had a tour to lead. There was no one else.

“Gina?” Melda stood on the other side of the fire. “You all right?”

“Fine.” She straightened, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Everyone be ready to leave in an hour.”

“What happened?” Amberleigh appeared stuck on that question.

“Why’d you send Teo away?” Ashleigh asked. “He was the only man worth talkin’ to round here.”

“Hey,” Tim said.

Ashleigh flipped her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch. You’re okay, but I’m not stepmama material. Especially for a boy that close to my age.”

“Stepmama?” Derek repeated, more intrigued than horrified.

“I thought you were graduating from college,” Tim said.

“So?”

“Aren’t you going to get a job before you get married?”

“Why on earth would I do somethin’ like that?”

“What happened?” This time Amberleigh stomped her foot and put her hands on her hips. Maybe that worked with other people, but it just made Gina want to turn a hose on her.

“Pack up. Deal with your mount. Or so help me—” Gina took one step toward Amberleigh, and the girl ran.

She should feel bad about that, but she didn’t.

Everyone got busy and left her alone. She’d done the job for so long it was second nature and she could go about preparing breakfast, packing her tent, and saddling her horse without having to think too much.

Because all she could think about was what an idiot she’d been.

She’d wondered why Teo was so interested in her so fast—or at all—but she’d been captivated by him just as quickly. She’d thought because there was something special between them, something she’d never felt before. But he’d manufactured those feelings the same way he’d manufactured his name and his background.

Her head went up as another thought crowded in. His interest in her photography had all been bullshit, too. Gina took a shaky breath, embarrassed at how much his words of praise had meant to her. He’d only wanted to find out the location of that cursed photograph.

She was tempted to remove her camera from her pack and leave it behind a rock somewhere, then never take another picture again. But photography was the one thing she had that was hers, something she did just for herself. She couldn’t give it up, even though she had a feeling that every time she lifted her camera from now on she’d remember him.

While the others ate breakfast, Gina stepped into the trees and tried to get herself under control. She couldn’t ride a horse, even Lady Belle, with her hands shaking this badly. And she wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her guests or give them the nature tour she’d planned for the day if she couldn’t speak past the tears in her throat.

Hadn’t she promised she’d show one of them a bear?

Crap. That had been Teo. Well, since she was never going to see him again as long as she lived, she wouldn’t have to worry about that.

Her laughter came out sounding like a silly sob, and she drew in a breath that hitched in the middle.

“Stop it,” she ordered, wringing her hands together so tightly they ached.

Teo was gone. She would forget about him. His questions. His secrets. His lies.

And that damn photograph? She’d try to forget it, but really …

How could she ever forget the place where her parents had died?

*   *   *

“I’m not getting on that,” Matt protested.

“That’s right you aren’t.” McCord lifted his chin, indicating they should head downhill. “Granddad’s meeting us on the dirt road. He’ll take you back in the truck.”

“What if I don’t want to go back?” Matt asked, even as he began to walk.

“That would just make my day.” McCord moved along next to Matt, keeping pace with his hand on the clutch.

“You gonna beat me senseless?”

“Only if you ask real nice.”

Matt sighed. He was screwed, and he knew it.

“Wait.” Matt stopped. “My horse.”

“Not yours,” the man sneered; however, he did contemplate Matt with a little more respect. “Gina will probably ride Spike and lead Lady Belle. Don’t worry; your horse won’t be left behind for the wolves to eat.”

“There aren’t any wolves,” Matt muttered, almost as sad about never seeing Spike again as he was about never seeing Gina. He liked that horse.

Matt suddenly realized that he’d continued on but McCord hadn’t, and turned. “What?”

“She told you?”

“About the wolves, or lack of them? Yeah. So?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “What else did she tell you?”

Matt had a sudden urge to say, That’s for me to know and you to find out. But if he continued with the playground imagery a taunt like that would only ascertain that Jase did find out. Probably by giving Matt purple nurples until he cried uncle.

What was it he’d heard his students say?

Been there, done that. Saw the Blu-ray.

He hadn’t had his ass handed to him by a bully since he’d turned twelve and grown six inches. He didn’t plan to go back now. Besides, Matt couldn’t think of anything else Gina might have told him that was important. He couldn’t think why that was important.

So there weren’t any wolves on the ranch. Wasn’t that a good thing?

“Mecate…” McCord began.

“Nothing,” Matt said. “She didn’t tell me anything else but that.”

McCord grunted. He didn’t believe Matt. Luckily, they slid past a line of trees and Isaac appeared not far below, leaning against a faded red pickup. Too late for McCord to beat Matt senseless now. He doubted Isaac would approve.

“How’d you find out who I was?” Matt asked.

“I wasn’t looking for you. I was looking for Old Moldy.”

Matt liked that nickname less and less every time he heard it.

“Went to the Internet, plugged in your name, and up popped your pretty-boy face.”

“Google sucks,” Matt muttered.

“For you,” McCord agreed.

“You could have waited for us to get back.”

“Appears I got here in the nick of time.” McCord scowled. “Or maybe a few minutes too late. You really believe sleeping with Gina would get her to agree to let you dig up her…” He paused, tightening his lips as if he’d almost said too much. Then he saw Matt waiting, expectant, and finished with, “Place. Guys like you think because you have a golden face, you’ve got a golden dick. Does every wish you make on that thing come true?”

“You really believe warning away every other man that comes near her is going to make her fall in love with you? Forever after by process of elimination?”

“I don’t warn guys away,” McCord said, but he suddenly became very interested in the trail ahead of them, a trail he had to have seen a thousand times before.

“I’m not as moldy as you think I am. Especially up here.” Matt tapped his forehead. “How many guys have you sent packing over the years? How many times did she wait for a phone call that didn’t come because you threatened to smash someone’s teeth in?”

The tightness of the man’s jaw told Matt the number was pretty damn high.

“Be a big boy,” Matt said. “Tell her the truth before she finds out from someone else. She doesn’t seem to like it when that happens.”

McCord’s head came up. “Don’t you dare—”

“I’m not going to tell her anything,” Matt said. “I’ll probably never see her again thanks to you.”

The sadness that flooded Matt after that statement surprised him just a little. Sure, he’d wanted her, but he hadn’t realized how much he’d liked her, how much he would miss her company after only knowing her for a short while.

They continued on toward where Isaac waited, hat tilted, face in shadow. Matt might not be able to see the old man’s expression but could easily tell from the way Isaac held himself that he wasn’t happy.

Matt glanced at his companion. “What was it about the photo that made Gina go white as a ghost?”

McCord flinched at the word ghost, which only piqued Matt’s interest and caused his busy brain to kick into high gear. “Is that area haunted?”

“What area?”

“The one in the picture?”

McCord smirked. “What picture?”

Matt narrowed his eyes. The man knew very well what picture. Of course, since Matt no longer had it and Gina had probably destroyed it …

Hell.

Still, McCord’s reluctance to talk about the place, his refusal to even acknowledge it, combined with his response to the word ghost … There was something there.

A battleground? A graveyard?

A superwarrior’s tomb?

People didn’t behave this strangely without something to hide. Of course McCord would swallow his own tongue before he told Matt what it was.

They reached the road, and Isaac got behind the wheel without a single word of greeting. He was equally chatty all the way to the ranch.

McCord revved the dirt bike’s motor, which was loud enough to be a Harley, and took off in the opposite direction. He’d travel as the crow flew and no doubt beat Isaac and Matt to their destination.

Sure enough, when the pickup pulled into the yard the man not only was waiting for them but had also already packed Matt’s things.

“Thanks for your patronage.” McCord threw the suitcase at Matt so hard, Matt staggered a step when he caught it. “Never come again.”

“My money?” Matt asked.

“What money?” McCord returned, already heading for the house.

That was the problem with cash. No proof of purchase.

Matt rummaged through the outside zipper pockets of his bag for the car keys. But a cry from the house had him glancing up just as Fanny banged through the screen door and handed a sheet of paper to her son. Matt was able to make out the name Benjamin Morris at the top.

Isaac joined his daughter and grandson on the porch, and they began to murmur among themselves. Matt caught one phrase—“sell the ranch at auction”—before McCord remembered him and snapped, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Matt’s gaze met Fanny’s, then Isaac’s. No help there. While they weren’t actively scowling as McCord was, they no longer looked at Matt with anything akin to welcome.

Matt nodded in lieu of “good-bye” and headed for the car, digging again for his keys. As he got in, he had an idea.

He hoped this one would turn out better than the last one had.