Tarotica

get this?” she asked, stroking it lightly with her fingertip. “It looks Indian.”

“Sybil gave it to me. It’s supposed to be some kind of protection amulet.”

She pushed herself up on one elbow and stared down at him. “Does Sybil think you’re in need of protection?”

Eli rumpled her hair affectionately. “Sybil worries too much about me. Always has.”

He pulled her down beside him and snuggled against her. A moment later Miranda heard him snore softly.

I’m really starting to care for this guy, she thought. Quickly, she pushed the idea aside, rationalizing, it’s just great sex. Don’t confuse lust with love.

* * *

Miranda had waited to visit the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum until she could see it with Eli. Together they viewed the extensive collection of the artist’s paintings, drawings, sculptures, and photographs—nearly one thousand in all.

“I don’t know much about art,” Eli admitted. “Is it my imagination or are those flowers intentionally sexy?”

“It’s not your imagination.”

He pointed to a blatantly vaginal blue-green painting. “That one reminds me of you,” he said, and slid his hand under the short denim skirt he’d insisted she wear without panties.

“Eli! Someone will see us.”

He winked at her, hooking a finger in her slit. “That’s part of the fun.”

“Animal,” she said and laughed, pulling away.

But her pussy tingled and her heart stepped up its beat. As they strolled through the museum, each painting she saw of a virile tree or a lush blossom fueled her desire.

Erotica for art lovers, she mused. Maybe I should try my hand at it. By the time they’d finished their tour, Miranda was ready for another round at the B&B.

* * *

They decided to celebrate their last night together in Santa Fe at the legendary

“Pink.” The three-hundred-year-old rose-colored adobe house in the city’s historic Barrio de Analco was now a romantic restaurant, complete with low-beamed ceilings, terrific food, and one of the best bars in the country. Miranda felt torn, knowing that tomorrow they’d go their separate ways again. Although she itched to be on the road—she still had a lot of territory to explore—she was going to miss Eli.

“I plan to check out the Texas wine region,” he told her as he filled her glass with a good Napa Valley Cabernet.

“I didn’t realize Texans made wine,” she said.

“Texas isn’t all cactus and tumbleweeds. The Hill Country looks a lot like Tuscany and the weather’s pretty similar, which is why you’ll find a lot of vineyards there. Most of the wine isn’t very good, though. At least, not yet.”

Miranda dug into her lobster, crab, and shrimp enchiladas. “So why go?”

“A guy I used to work with has a vineyard there. He’s a specialist in grapevine diseases. I want to discuss the fungus that killed Meditrina’s vines with him—he might have some ideas about how it got there and how to deal with the problem.”

Eli took a bite of his steak with mushrooms and green chile and chewed it contemplatively. Watching him, Miranda thought wistfully, in the morning he’ll be gone.

If she hadn’t already promised to visit her uncle in Arkansas, she’d consider going with him. Maybe we can meet in Texas in a week or two.

“What about those French thugs?” she asked. “Do you think they’re still looking for you?”

“I honestly don’t know. I haven’t seen them since we left San Francisco. I’m keeping a low profile, but I’m not going to hide out like a scared rabbit forever.”

She laid her hand over his, wishing she’d asked the card reader for more information. “Be careful.”

“I have to resolve this matter so I can get back to my old life.” His green eyes held hers, willing her to understand.

“I know.”

Reaching into his pocket, Eli withdrew a small box and set it on the table. “I couldn’t resist buying this for you. A Navaho woman who lives on a reservation north of here made it.”

Miranda removed the lid and lifted out a delicate silver bracelet set with turquoise. “It’s beautiful.”

“To help you remember our time here together.”

“I’ll never forget our time here,” she said, slipping the bracelet on her wrist.

“Thank you.”

Their waiter stopped by to see if they needed anything else. As he topped off their wineglasses, Miranda asked Eli, “How will you get to Texas?”

“Take the bus, I guess. There’s one that leaves a little after seven tomorrow morning.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” said the waiter. “What part of Texas are you going to?”

“Fredericksburg,” Eli answered.

“My mom’s driving to Austin tomorrow. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you rode with her. She likes company.”

“Really? That would certainly make things easier. But what makes you think you can trust your mother with me? You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know my mom.” The waiter wrote down his mother’s name and phone number and handed them to Eli. “I’ll call and tell her you’ll be on board.”

“Thanks.”

Miranda smiled at him. “Sybil would say there are no coincidences.” So would Lee Golden. She was beginning to believe it herself.

Card 7: The Chariot

When Miranda and Eli drove into the IHOP parking lot, the red eighteen-wheeler was waiting for them, rumbling and smoking like a dragon. “Ruby the Mother Trucker” was painted on its doors in gold leaf. Miranda pulled up to it and Ruby leaned out the window of the cab. The hue of her curly hair matched the truck exactly.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take good care of him,” Ruby yelled over the noise of the trick’s engine.

Eli laid his hand on Miranda’s thigh. “I’ll call you tonight.”

“Have a safe trip.”

She unhooked her seatbelt and leaned across the console to kiss him. As his lips met hers and his tongue slid into her mouth, she regretted her decision to let him go to Texas without her. It’s only for a couple of weeks, she reminded herself.

“Have fun visiting your uncle,” he said, reaching into the back seat for his pack.

“I will. See you soon.”

Despite his smile, his pale green eyes looked serious. For a moment, he seemed about to say something. Instead, he touched the tip of her nose lightly and got out of the car. Miranda fingered the Navaho silver bracelet on her wrist and watched him climb into the truck, a knot of loneliness tightening in her chest as they roared away in a cloud of diesel fumes.

When the truck rolled onto the highway, Ruby held out her hand to Eli.

“Welcome aboard. I’m Ruby.”

“I figured as much,” he said. “I’m Eli Hart. Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it.”

Allher clothing, including her high-top sneakers, was ruby-red. A necklace of red stones hung around her neck, sparkling on her ample chest. Red globes the size of eggs dangled from her ears. Every finger on both hands sported a ring with a red gem.

Noticing him eying her jewels, she said, “They’re not real. Truckers don’t make that kind of money unless