Looking Through Darkness by Aimée Thurlo Page B

might have originated, but that was something Melvin had kept private. If she brought it up now, that might just compromise John’s relationship with his nephew without gaining anything helpful for any of them.
    Pushing back those thoughts, she focused on the present. Leigh Ann tried calling Melvin on her way over to his home, but he wasn’t picking up. Although he often didn’t answer the phone, he’d given her a key and an open invitation to drop by whenever she wanted.
    She smiled. That was one of the things she liked most about being friends with Melvin. He was always glad to see her, making her feel special and valued just for being who she was. Although their friendship had boundaries, or maybe because of that, it had also set her free.
    *   *   *
    Jo went home early, and although she’d spoken to Ben, she was more worried about him than ever. Everything he did as part of a medevac team was dangerous, and no matter how hard Ben tried to reassure her, the reality was he was fighting a war. There were few certainties in his life except that he faced danger and death nearly every hour of every day.
    Although she wasn’t always successful, Jo tried not to show her fears or ask too many questions whenever he Skyped. Navajo ways taught that to talk about bad things was to attract them. Yet the constant uncertainty had a way of wearing her down.
    As Jo drove up to her home and parked, she saw a coyote lurking around less than fifty yards away. Coyote was the Trickster in Navajo creation stories. Maybe his appearance today was a reminder that uncertainty was part of the pattern, too.
    *   *   *
    Leigh Ann arrived at Melvin’s while there was still daylight. As she pulled up, she saw Melvin, shirtless and wearing low-slung jeans, standing on his back porch. He looked beautiful in an earthy way, as much a part of the New Mexican desert as the sun-drenched mesas on the southern horizon. His copper skin glowed in the half-light and his muscular chest looked hard and toned to near perfection. Everything about him spoke of strength and the courage to endure.
    Shrouded in equal parts of light and the long afternoon shadows, there was an air of mystery and danger about him. He lived at the edge of a perpetual mist so vast she couldn’t even begin to fathom it.
    She sighed.
    Then he turned toward her and waved.
    Of course he’d heard the car—the Jeep’s engine had a definite roar and there were no other sounds out here except those that came from nature. She laughed as she got out of the Jeep.
    â€œBe right with you,” he said, turning to go back through the house.
    Fingers crossed, she hoped he wouldn’t stop to put on a shirt. He’d looked so sexy—a man alone at home, listening to the quiet.
    â€œI’m glad you came,” he said, meeting her by the door. He’d put on a shirt, but it hung open, teasing her imagination.
    â€œI tried calling first—”
    â€œI disconnected the phone,” he said.
    She heard the odd, hollow sound in his voice. For a second he looked … haunted. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. “Are you okay?”
    He nodded and led her inside his house. “While searching for an idea for my next sculpture, I tested out a few concepts, but I wasn’t satisfied with any of them. This time around, I’d like to create something different. I want a figure that speaks to the loneliness in all of us.”
    â€œAny idea what kind of figure you’d like it to be?”
    â€œI’ve never sculpted people before, but that’s what I want to do next. I won’t be duplicating a person or using a model. What I want to depict is something more elusive … a human figure that captures a longing for something destined to remain out of reach.…” He took a breath, then said, “What I feel when you’re near.”
    For a moment, she found it hard to