A Rancher's Vow

by Patricia Rosemoor

  And most ranchers had cell phones, Reed knew, though Pa was a technology holdout, one of the first things Reed intended to change around the ranch. Plenty of things on the Curly-Q could use some modernizing. Some of his ideas would necessitate a considerable expenditure, cell phones being reasonable by comparison. And using them could keep an emergency in check. Or keep a hand from wasting his time riding out to deliver a message.

  No doubt Vernon Martell was already using them on the VM. Would he have a pager as well? Reed wondered.

  And what about Cesar Cardona? He doubted the housing developer went anywhere without one.

  Both names stuck in his mind, even though he knew he had his own set of prejudices because of the land issue.

  But Martell had left when the fire had started.

  And Cardona had stood back and watched.

  “Have you already done something to get an investigator out here?” Chance was asking Bart.

  “I talked to the Taos County sheriff—I worked with John Malone a ways back. Malone says that since no one was hurt and there was no big monetary loss, an old barn isn’t exactly a priority. Someone would come out, though no telling how soon.” Bart shrugged and cleared his throat. “That’s why I did a walk-through myself. What’s left of that pager is the only thing I could find. I plan on getting it to Malone this afternoon and telling him not to bother wasting any of the county’s manpower out here.”

  A declaration that startled Reed. True, Bart was a seasoned lawman and had a lot of experience going over crime scenes. But how many fires had he investigated?

  “Bart, don’t you think you’re being a little hasty?”

  “I’m trying to be practical,” his brother countered. “Even if an official investigator finds something that I overlooked—a big if—he’s not going to put in the kind of time it takes to track down an arsonist, not without a human factor and when there’s been so little property loss involved. Besides which, we need to get after cleaning up the mess and raising a new barn before the weather sets in.”

  So much for his opinion, Reed thought. What had he expected?

  Temptation troubled him. Bart didn’t know about the letter someone had sent Pa. And he didn’t know about the phone calls from the realty agents, either. Would knowing make a difference? Or, as Pa had predicted, would those facts be justification to send Bart and Chance packing, agreeing to sell.

  Then his own dream would be lost forever.

  All considered, Reed didn’t see the harm in keeping his silence a while longer.

  Chance was turning the charred remains of the beeper with a pencil. “What do you hope to find from this thing—certainly not fingerprints.”

  “Maybe some kind of identification left inside that could lead us to the owner.”

  “Not likely, is it?”

  “It’s all we have right now.”

  “No, it’s not,” Reed countered. He locked gazes with Bart. “Alcina saw someone in the barn about a half hour before the fire.”

  “Why didn’t you say so before this?”

  “You didn’t give me the opportunity. Alcina thought it was Moon-Eye doing some chores. She didn’t get a good look at the man, unfortunately. I already quizzed the old buzzard and he says he wasn’t anywhere near the barn all night. I thought we could start asking around, maybe find out who did do a disappearing act.”

  By now, Bart’s face was dark red. “If you knew this, why the hell did you pretend you thought it was an accident?” he practically shouted.

  Reed didn’t blink. “Maybe I thought someone should play devil’s advocate.”

  “Someday you’re going to have to choose a side, Reed.”

  “I have chosen a side. Ours. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

  Words that resonated for Reed as they cut the gabfest and got to work on clearing up the fire debris.

  Hard, dirty work. The three of them.

  Together.

  But for how long?

  ALCINA WAS DRESSED and straightening up the parlor by the time her next visitor arrived.

  Opening the door, she registered surprise. “Reba, hi. Come on in.”

  She stood back to let the café owner enter and smelled the distinct odor of whiskey. The normally sunny Reba looked terrible, and she was holding her cheek, which seemed a bit swollen.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I think it’s an abscess,” Reba mumbled. “Tooth’s been bothering me off and on since yesterday morning. Now it’s just on. I’m on my way to Taos to see the dentist.”

  Which explained her drinking this early. No doubt Reba had been using the whiskey medicinally, to cut the ache.

  “What brings you here?” Alcina asked.

  “The diamond. I could hardly get to sleep last night with it still in my possession,” Reba admitted. “I want to give it to Pru for safekeeping. I mean, it was lost at her wedding. When the owner finally realizes it’s gone, Pru will be the one who hears about it.”

  “But she’s already left for home.”

  “Darn!” Reba winced. “I’m late as it is, and I don’t want to carry something so valuable around with me.”

  “I could hold it for you, maybe get it to Pru later.”

  “Would you? Honey, you’re a gem yourself.”

  The café owner started to laugh at her own joke, then grimaced when the laughter obviously caused her more pain. Rubbing her swollen cheek with one hand, she used the other to pull a zipped plastic bag from her pocket.

  “At least that’s off my mind,” Reba mumbled as Alcina took it from her. “Thanks, honey.”

  “No problem. I’m sure the mystery will all be taken care of by the end of the day. You have no reason to worry.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  After Reba left, Alcina couldn’t help but lift the diamond from the plastic bag for a better look. Moving closer to a window, she turned the triangular-shaped gem in the sunlight and looked deep into the facets.

  But no truths were bared to her.

  No name…no face…no insight as to the diamond’s owner.

  Popping the gem back into the plastic bag, she considered where she could store it for safekeeping until she could get it to Pru.

  Chapter Five

  Alcina tried keeping her nerves in check when she arrived at the bunkhouse later that afternoon.

  A date with Reed…

  You could call it that…

  Okay, so it was sort of a date. Maybe.

  Even though they wouldn’t be riding horseback, she’d donned her gray snakeskin boots in case he wanted to do any walking. The rest of her outfit was feminine but understated—long, flowing dark gray skirt, plain grayish-pink silk shirt and a heavy medium-gray cardigan. That way, she was ready for anything, she hoped.

  At least in the way of weather…

  Reed was still a question.

  Alcina wasn’t certain why he’d issued the invitation. A verbal thank-you had been enough. He had, after all, pulled her out of the corral, possibly saving her life. She had more for which to be grateful than he. The ranch might be part his, yes, but the horses had belonged to Josie. And he hadn’t been altogether approving of her decision to go after them in the first place.

  Obviously, this was his way of apologizing for giving her such a hard time. He could have sent her flowers as a grand gesture, but, clearly, he’d wanted this to be personal, which made her very, very nervous.

  One look at the burned-out barn when she got out of her car was enough to make Alcina’s stomach knot, especially knowing that someone might have set that fire purposely, and if so, that person had been a wedding guest.

  But to what end? Revenge? Downright meanness?

  She turned her back on the memory and on the skeletal building and approached the open doorway of the bunkhouse.

  Not wanting to encroach on anyone’s privacy, she stayed her ground at the stoop and called out, “Reed?”

  “Be right there.”

  He came from
the room to the right and was preceded by Temporary, who was looking better already. The dog’s ear was on the mend and she had a sparkle to her brown eyes where before there had been suspicion.

  Reed’s brown eyes sparkled, as well. He gave her a slow, spine-tingling, approving once-over.

  “You look so elegant. I’ve always admired that about you,” he said.

  Leaving her speechless.

  Alcina hadn’t even known Reed had so much as noticed her existence before the wedding.

  “You look pretty nice yourself,” she told him.

  He smelled freshly scrubbed and he’d changed into a pair of newer jeans and a deep gold shirt with orange insets that set his still-damp hair ablaze. The shirt, as always, was buttoned clear to his neck.

  From behind his back he withdrew a flower. “I thought this would look nice in your hair.”

  Before Alcina could take it from him, he moved in to surround her with his arms. He was standing so close, she forgot to breathe. She felt his fingers on her head as he tucked the stem through the twisted strands. Sensation rippled through her and her hair nearly stood on end. Then he moved back, his eyes bedeviling her as he admired his handiwork.

  “Beautiful,” he said. Quiet for a moment, long enough to stretch Alcina’s nerves taut, he finally asked, “Are you ready to go?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” she said all in a whoosh. “Go where?”

  “I told you, out on the spread.”

  “You couldn’t be more specific?”

  “Nope.”

  He grabbed his jean jacket and Stetson from a peg next to the door. Putting on the hat, he stepped outside.

  Alcina eyed Reed’s dusty truck sitting out front and thought about suggesting they take her car, but of course that was anything but practical. She didn’t have a four-wheel drive and there were no real roads on most of the ranch. They’d be driving over dirt, gravel or solid rock, and that’s not an even surface. Her car would never make it. She stepped toward his vehicle, but Reed hooked a hand at her elbow and turned her, the dog running before them, making it a threesome.

  “I thought we could compromise.”

  “Compromise is good,” Alcina murmured, wondering what in the world he meant.

  She avoided looking at the burned-out hulk as they followed the length of the bunkhouse, but she couldn’t stop herself from shuddering.

  If it hadn’t been for Reed…

  As if he knew exactly how she felt, he slipped a reassuring arm around her back, but whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.

  When they rounded the bunkhouse, the two quietly waiting horses tacked in tandem took her by surprise. As did the wagon behind them.

  “Good Lord, where did you find that old thing?” she asked, a chord of pleasure making her pulse hum.

  “Right here on the property, though only God knows the last time it was actually put to use.”

  Reed helped her up and into the seat, which he’d covered with a beautifully worked quilt. She touched the hand-stitched material and wondered who had made the piece and how long ago. It was a work of art, revealing someone’s love for the Southwest via cloth-worked mesas and horses and adobe buildings.

  She wondered if Reed had chosen to use it because he knew she appreciated beautiful old things, or it had been as simple as his wanting to pad her from an assuredly bumpy ride while protecting her clothes.

  Reed threw his jacket into the back and climbed up on his side, then reached forward to pick up the reins. Alcina couldn’t help but admire the muscles that rippled along his shoulders and upper arms, muscles built naturally from hard work rather than from lifting health-club weights.

  When Temporary launched herself into the back of the wagon, Alcina turned to greet the dog only to see her bound over a huge picnic basket and a smaller cooler. The animal parked herself directly behind Reed.

  “Uh-oh,” Alcina murmured, realizing they were to have a picnic supper somewhere on the property. “You wouldn’t have brought barbecue ribs along?”

  “Not a one.”

  “Thank goodness!”

  They laughed companionably and Temporary barked as Reed clucked to move the horses off.

  Happily surprised by the wagon ride, her tension released by the shared laughter, Alcina sat back as Reed expertly took them away from all signs of civilization. She ignored the bumps in the ride and took pleasure in the fresh air and deepening turquoise sky. And gradually she became aware of horses following them—including the one Josie called Skitter—but mostly the same nosy band that hung around the road and escorted visitors to the house.

  Which prompted her to ask, “So how come you’re not staying at the main house?”

  “Daniel is using my old bedroom,” Reed said. “And Lainey is in Chance’s. Bart and his kids are used to having a whole house to themselves. This is already a big compromise for them, so I wouldn’t want them to double up for me. I’m fine in the bunkhouse for the moment, but while Frank Ewing is currently the only hand there, we’ll have to hire a few more men before spring. So like I said, it’s only temporary.”

  “Until…?”

  “Until my own domicile arrives tomorrow.”

  “You’re moving a house from the ranch where you worked?” an incredulous Alcina asked.

  “A trailer.” He grinned. “It’s not fancy, but I like having my own place.”

  “No matter where you go, it’s home.”

  “Right,” he agreed. “I bought it several years back when I got a big bonus at the end of a season. Actually, this is only the second time I’m moving the trailer, and hopefully the last.” He looked at her thoughtfully enough to send an expectant shiver up her spine. “If things work out the way I expect, I’ll be moving into something more permanent very soon, anyway.”

  More permanent had a nice ring to it, Alcina decided. That meant Reed would continue to be around. She tried shoving away the slight edge she kept experiencing around him and told herself to relax already.

  For the rest of the short ride, they talked about the recent past. About her fixing up the bed-and-breakfast. About his running someone else’s spread. More than she’d ever heard Reed talk in her life.

  In the past, he’d always been quiet, both as a boy and as a young man, not at all open. Alcina guessed his living away from his family must have brought about some changes.

  By the time they reached the bend in the river where Reed pulled the wagon to a halt, she felt as if they knew each other. Almost. At least a little.

  The spot he’d chosen was picture-perfect. The water rushed and foamed over big rocks in the bed. The riverbank was laced with cottonwoods. And cypress and juniper bushes dotted the rimrock that rose behind them, its blazing red reflecting the setting sun.

  “How lovely,” Alcina murmured, and Temporary barked her agreement as she went racing after a rabbit.

  Reed merely smiled and spread the quilt over a patch of grass while she twirled around like a girl and lifted her face to the late-autumn sky. Soon the land would turn harsh with the winter snows and reveal a different sort of beauty. Each season in New Mexico was special to her.

  Though she was very much like her mother in some ways—taste in art and music and personal style—Alcina felt far more connected to the elements here than on the East Coast.

  Alcina guessed Silver Springs would always be the home of her heart.

  Reed hauled out the picnic basket and she investigated the contents while he went back to the wagon for the cooler. She removed plastic and paper goods, then from below, warm food wafting heavenly aromas.

  Temporary shot out of nowhere and sat at the edge of the quilt, liquid brown eyes alert for castoffs.

  Alcina suspected Felice had outdone herself when she uncovered a glass dish to find a layered chicken-and-cheese-enchilada casserole with sour-cream topping. Her mouth immediately watered and she opened another package containing corn-bread sticks, also still warm.

  Reed set down the cooler next to the ba
sket and him next to her. He popped the cooler top and added to the mix a plastic container filled with Southwestern salad—black beans and corn and peppers.

  “Wine or fancy water?” he asked.

  “Both, please.”

  She dished out the food, a plate each for the three of them. He poured the drinks.

  After leaning forward to give the dog her treat, Alcina glanced up even as Reed opened the wine, the bottle appearing almost delicate in his work-callused hands. Wondering what it would be like to feel those hands stroke her length so carefully, she flushed and placed her focus back on the food where it belonged.

  You could call it a date…

  While she certainly would like to, she didn’t even know if he had a romantic intention in his head.

  “Here you go.”

  “What? Oh…” Taking the glass from him, she said, “I’ve never thought of you as the wine type.”

  “Hmm, beautiful and perceptive.” He pulled out a beer and held it up in toast. Once they got settled, glasses and plates full, Reed asked, “So, are you happy with your life exactly as it is?”

  “Things could always be better, I guess,” Alcina said, taking a bite of the casserole. “Oh, this is delicious.” A sip of wine and she sighed, then went back to the conversation. “I have my complaints like everyone else, but, yes, on the whole, I feel very lucky. You?”

  “I have my complaints.” He grinned and washed down a mouthful of food with a slug from the beer bottle. “But I love what I do. I couldn’t imagine anything could be more satisfying than ranching. I have this attachment to the land—”

  “Just like your father.”

  When he didn’t respond, she wondered if he took that as a criticism. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Feeling the edge of her hunger satisfied, Alcina gave the watchful dog another treat, then went back to her wine.

  His plate nearly empty, Reed asked, “The East Coast didn’t suit you?”

  The circumstances, especially those surrounding her relationship with Jeffrey, hadn’t suited her, but Alcina didn’t want to ruin a perfect meal with that discussion.

  So she merely said, “Life there wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be,” and took one last forkful of salad before giving up, at least temporarily. She set the plate to her side, where the dog could get it. “My brother loves it. And Mother moved back, as well. She and Daddy haven’t officially separated, but…”