Blue Jeans and a Badge by Nina Bruhns Page B

obvious.
    But damn, could she kiss.
    And he wanted her. With every fiber of his being, he wanted her.
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    The area down around Abiquiu was one of Philip’s very favorite parts of New Mexico. True, Piñon Lake up in the Enchanted Circle was beautiful with its pristine forests and commanding views of the desert below, and he liked the cooler summer climate and the big drifts of snow in the winter. That’s why he’d settled up there.
    But the desert drive along Highway 84 between Española and Chama was incredible. The two-lane macadam road was bordered on either side by a rolling band of red-brown earth dappled with sage, cedar and stubby grass, miles wide on the southwestern side where the Rio Chama with its blue waters and green cottonwood bosques wended its way down to the Rio Grande. To the north and east were the primitive red and yellow striated cliffs of El Monte Rojo and its compadres, to the south the purple shadows of the Pedernal; in the distant west the San Pedro Mountains stretched out like a lazy freight train along the horizon.
    Certainly, it wasn’t as spectacular as the Grand Canyon nor as wondrous as Bryce or Zion, but it had a stark, wild beauty that Philip had always admired greatly.
    He turned to Luce to see her reaction and was pleased by the smile of appreciation on her face.
    â€œBoy, this is something,” she said.
    â€œGod’s country,” he concurred. “Georgia O’Keefe lived just up the road, you know.”
    â€œReally?” She glanced down at the bad copy of the even worse newspaper photo in her hand. “Too bad she didn’t paint this picture. I’ll bet our canyon would have been much easier to locate. How on earth are we ever going to find this place in—” Luce gestured with a sweeping motion “—all that?”
    He sighed. “With a lot of shoe leather and a lot more luck.”
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    As it turned out, they had no luck at all. And Luce’s city sneakers didn’t fare much better. They might be fine for chasing bad guys, but were definitely not designed with the rugged New Mexico terrain in mind. Before the afternoon was out, they were dirty and shredded. Philip felt sorry for her having to walk in them.
    â€œWe better pick you up some boots tonight,” he remarked as they sat on a large sandstone slab and sipped from water bottles, watching the shadows of evening creep over the vast desert splayed at their feet. The Jeep was sitting just a few dozen yards away so they didn’t have to worry about getting lost after dark, and they definitely could use the rest. They’d been hiking up and down arroyos and foothills on and off for five hours, and were looking at a two-hour drive back to Piñon Lake.
    â€œThose sneaks have had it.”
    â€œThey don’t know what hit ’em,” Luce said with a chuckle, flopping her feet up and down. One of the soles had come unglued, so it flapped in the breeze. “Got any duct tape?”
    â€œAt home,” he said with a sidelong glance, bottle to his lips.
    She cut him a look. “Damn, you’re persistent.”
    â€œGet used to it.”
    She fiddled with her water bottle and gazed out over the landscape. He relaxed back with an elbow on the warm,gritty slab and watched her instead of the dramatic sunset. At least she wasn’t telling him to go jump in the lake.
    â€œI guess I shouldn’t be discouraged we didn’t find the canyon today,” she said with a sigh, “but I am.”
    â€œMe, too,” he admitted. “But we’ll find it tomorrow.”
    â€œThink so?”
    He shrugged. “Hope so. We covered less than half the territory today.”
    She propped back onto both elbows, gazing at the last sliver of sun disappear. “At least we didn’t meet up with any wild animals.”
    He smiled. “You stomped loud enough to scare off anything for miles around. No wonder your shoes are in