MM02 - Until Morning Comes Read Online Free PDF Page A

stallion. He's a wild one.”
    “Just the challenge I need.”
    He and Butch worked together to hook up the horse trailer and load the prancing, pawing animal. When the horse was loaded, they leaned against the truck and drank tall glasses of lemonade, bought from the house by the smiling Madalena Langley.
    “How much more vacation time do you have, Colter?” Madalena asked.
    “Two more weeks, but I could fudge a little.”
    “I still want to have a cocktail party for you.”
    “If that's your sweet way of asking me when I'm coming out of the desert, I have to tell you that I don't know, Madalena.”
    She patted his hand. “That's all right, Colter. I know you came out here to think, not to party. If we don't do it this time, we’ll do it the next time you visit.”
    “You're a sweetheart.” Colter kissed her cheek, then turned to his friend. “Don't ever let her go, Butch.”
    o0o
    It was mid-afternoon by the time he got back to his camp at the foot of the mountains. He unloaded the big stallion and walked him around, letting the horse get used to him.
    The animal laid his ears back and pawed the ground. Colter began to talk in Athabascan, the language of the White Mountain Apache. The ancient tongue spoke directly to the animal's heart. He whinnied once and turned his head toward his new master. Colter patted his muzzle.
    Exultation soared through him as he vaulted onto the stallion's back. The wind sang its haunting September song as Colter and the stallion raced. The sun covered him with its kind warmth.
    When the stallion had gotten used to his new freedom, Colter reined him to a brisk trot. The stream where he'd last seen Jo Beth came into sight. Suddenly an Apache poem sang through his mind: He could not forget the woman he'd first walked with. Her song was in the brook and her face was in the sky. Earth woman, fertile and waiting for man's seed.
    He had believed that all the Native American poetry and myths had vanished from his memory in his years of living the fast-paced life of a surgeon in San Francisco. But here in the open spaces of Arizona, he discovered that his heritage had never left him; it was waiting to be rediscovered, deep within his soul.
    The woman he'd first walked with. A vision of Jo Beth hovered in his mind, and he knew that he wasn't in the desert for a challenging ride; he was there to search for her.
    He scouted the length of the stream, then turned north, toward her cabin. He swung his head this way and that, scanning the landscape for a glimpse of gold that would give away her presence.
    He skirted the cabin at a distance, coming only close enough to see that her Jeep was gone. The tire tracks were still visible in the sand. One set looked newer, fresher. He leaned low to inspect them, then turned the horse in that direction.
    He came upon her unexpectedly, standing among some low scrub bushes, her camera focused on a giant saguaro cactus. A peace settled in his soul.
    He sat on the stallion and watched her. With her fair coloring, she looked like a part of the sun.
    Totally unaware of his presence, she hummed while she worked. It was a lilting melody that made him think of children's laughter.
    He eased the stallion closer, moving in as quietly as his ancestors would have done. He saw the snake before she did. It crawled out from the bush, looking for the sunshine, and it was only a few feet away from Jo Beth.
    Colter spoke to the stallion in rapid Athabascan. Horse and rider literally flew across the sand. Leaning low, Colter caught Jo Beth around the waist and scooped her onto the galloping horse. Her camera banged against his naked chest and her eyes were wide with astonishment.
    He settled her securely in front of him and let the stallion gallop until he'd used his initial burst of energy. With Jo Beth pressed against him, he thought he might ride forever.
    “What are you doing?” she called over the sound of flying hooves and rushing wind.
    “Rescuing you.”
    “From