“I don’t know. I thought maybe Fatima and I could find some clues to whoever has been sneaking around, like tire tracks or something.”
“Fatima?” He eyed the Arabian. “Never mind. I get it.” Tipping his hat back with one finger Michael scanned the darkening sky. “Weather’s changing. Looks like it’ll snow soon. We should be starting back.”
“Not until we rest these poor horses,” Layla countered. She bent to stroke the mare’s lathered neck. “I’m sorry I pushed her so hard.”
Michael wanted to say, You should be, but thought better of it. Instead, he merely nodded and dismounted. “Get down. We’ll walk them a ways, then head for home.”
When Layla joined him, she seemed a bit shaky. Michael stopped himself from taking her arm to steady her and realized she’d seen him reach out, then draw back.
“I’m okay,” Layla said. “I’m just not used to riding. It’s been a long time since I’ve galloped like that. Fatima’s a magnificent mare. I’m very impressed.”
“Thanks.”
“Norberto told me why you bought her. What I don’t understand is why no one ever rides her.”
“There hasn’t been a need,” he answered. “While you’re here, why don’t you consider her yours?”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Michael couldn’t help grinning at her wide-eyed, childlike enthusiasm. “This may be a first,” he quipped. “You’re not arguing with me.”
“Not this time, cowboy. For once, I think you’ve come up with an excellent idea.”
“Just for once?”
She made a silly face. “Don’t push it, okay?”
Laughing and nodding, he said, “Okay.”
Chapter Eleven
Snow soon began to fall as Michael had predicted. With the temperature barely at freezing, it formed into wet clumps and smacked like gobs of soft hail instead of drifting gracefully to the ground.
Layla shivered in the saddle as she tried to bat the moisture out of her hair. “Yuck. I almost wish it would rain instead of this sticky stuff.”
“I don’t suppose you brought a slicker.”
“No,” she said wryly. “Did you?”
“I left in kind of a hurry. All I had time to grab was the two-way radio I just used to tell Norberto you were safe.”
“I’m glad you thought of that. I wouldn’t want the poor man to worry.”
“You didn’t seem to mind worrying me.”
She gave him a smug, half smile. “I figured you could handle it. I stayed on your property, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” Michael swung his arm in a wide arc. “All this is Double V land.”
“You know every inch of it?”
“Pretty close. Why?”
“I thought I saw a cave on my way out here. Maybe we could take shelter there, at least until the worst of this nasty snow is over.” Her smile grew more demure. “That is, if you’ll promise to behave.”
“Have I ever been anything but a gentleman?” Michael asked, sounding a little perturbed.
“No. You’ve been wonderful. I just didn’t want you to think I was making a pass.” As much to reassure herself as her companion, she added, “I’m not.”
“I know.” Stretching in the saddle, he studied the surrounding hills. “What you saw was probably an abandoned mine tunnel. They’re thick in these parts. Hundreds are left over from the times when all anybody was interested in was silver mining.”
He urged his horse into the lead. “Follow me. It’s not far to a mine entrance big enough to give us a place to wait out the bad weather.”
Trotting along behind, she couldn’t help but watch Michael ride. He was a marvelous horseman. Strong, self-confident, athletic…and devastatingly attractive.
Layla sensed a blush rising to warm her cheeks. Too bad that was the only part of her that didn’t feel like it was about to freeze solid. She didn’t know when she’d been this cold, this miserable.
Whether she liked hearing it or not, Michael had been right to chastise her for leaving the barn so unprepared. She’d lived in Colorado during the winter. She knew how unforgiving the climate could be and how quickly it could change from sunshine to storms. Any fool who’d venture out without proper preparation deserved to have icicles in her hair!
Now that she was seeing the mine up close, Layla could tell the entrance was little more than an alcove. Rotting timbers framed the doorway. Less than twenty feet inside lay a pile of coarse rock that looked as if it had dropped from a similar-size cavity in the roof of the shaft.
Michael dismounted and once again grasped the mare’s reins. This time, Layla didn’t object.
She swung down, said, “Thanks,” and sidled past him into the dry recess.
Michael followed, leading both horses. “Don’t go too far,” he warned. “Last time I looked, there was a pretty sheer drop-off on the other side of that rock slide.”
“Why do you leave it open if it’s dangerous?” Layla tucked herself behind the horses, out of the wind, and rubbed her icy hands on her sweater-clad upper arms to try to warm them with friction.
“It’s only a danger if somebody’s out here who doesn’t belong,” he answered. “All my men are aware of the hazards.”
Joining her, he removed his leather coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. His kindness reminded Layla of the way he’d gently looked after her the night she’d been forced off the highway.
“You should keep your jacket,” she said. “There’s no sense both of us freezing.”
“I’m fine for now,” Michael said. “I’m not wet like you are. As soon as you get warmer I’ll reclaim the coat.”
“O-okay.”
There was little Layla could do to squelch the shivers skittering along her spine and tickling the back of her neck. If she hadn’t been so chilled she’d have assumed she was trembling due to Michael’s nearness. As it was, she couldn’t be totally certain why she had the shakes. The good part was, neither could the handsome rancher.
“S-sorry,” she stammered. “I don’t usually get c-cold this easily.”
“You don’t stand outside in an ice storm often either, I hope.”
He gave her a look she interpreted as condescending and she responded with sarcasm. “Sure, I d-do. You know how it is w-with us crazy nature l-lovers. We’ll try a-anything we think will bring us closer to the n-natural world.”
Instead of laughing the way she’d expected him to, Michael studied her expression. His scrutiny was unnerving.
“What?” Layla asked, giving her damp hair a flip to get it off her forehead. “Haven’t you ever seen a hippie-sicle before.”
“Not such a beautiful one.”
His answer was softly spoken. Its timbre made Layla tingle. This time, there was no question what had sent a frisson of nervousness along her spine.
She blinked to try to clear her head. “Beautiful? Me? Hah! I must look like a drowned rat.”
Michael stepped closer. “I wouldn’t have put it quite that bluntly.”
“Oh?” She tried to back away, found herself bumping into the gray mare’s shoulder and stopped. “How would you have put it?”
Raising his hand slowly, Michael cupped her face in his warm palm. His thumb stroked her cheek. “I’d have said you were beautiful all the time, no matter what. You are, you know. And that beauty is a lot more than skin-deep. It goes all the way to your heart.”
She wanted to run. Wanted to stay. Wanted to giggle and turn his compliments into another joke instead of taking them seriously. The intensity of his gaze was overpowering. So was the fact she believed he meant every word.
“I—I thought you promised to behave,” she said.
“I did. I do. There’s nothing wrong with telling you I think you’re beautiful when it’s the truth.”
“Well…”
Layla wondered if the only thing that had kept her from falling into Michael’s arms already was the iciness of her stiff muscles. That was a distinct possibility, sin
ce it was starting to feel awfully warm in there and her knees were beginning to wobble as if they were about to drop her into a helpless pile of slush at his feet.
Imagining that silly scenario was nearly enough to snap Layla out of the dreamy world Michael Vance’s nearness had caused. Nearly, but not quite.
She wished she were the heroine in an old Western movie so she could count on having the gray mare give her a nudge from behind at the right moment.
Imagining that scenario, Layla stepped straight into Michael’s arms without further rational thought.
He caught her, enfolded her in his warm, sturdy embrace.
She raised her face to his, her lips slightly parted. She could feel the tension crackling like static electricity between them. There was no doubt he wanted to kiss her. And no matter how she’d protested and warned him beforehand, she wanted it, too.
His breath was warm on her face. His lips were mere inches from hers.
“Fatima pushed me?” she whispered.
“Um-hum.”
“Well, she could have. I’m sure she was planning to.”
“Was she?”
Layla nodded. She raised on tiptoe and slipped her arms around Michael’s neck. “Remember that promise you made?”
“About being a gentleman?”
“Uh-huh. I might overlook one little kiss.”
Michael’s eyes smiled into hers. “Think so?”
Their lips met, lightly, tenderly. She was so dizzy and overcome with conflicting emotions when he finally leaned away, all she could do was nod and make a muffled sound that reminded her of a happy kitten.
“How was that?” he asked.
“Nice.” She sighed. “But short. Really short. I almost missed it. Could we try one more time?”
Michael took off his hat, then swept her into a more possessive embrace and kissed her again.
By the time he released her this time, Layla was breathless. So was he. She blinked and grinned up at him. “Wow. Good job, cowboy.”
He backed away, looking contrite and rather unsettled. Layla was positive he was blushing when he said, “My pleasure, ma’am.”
Michael had decided halfway through kissing Layla that they’d better not spend any more time alone than they absolutely had to. He’d retrieved the radio from his coat pocket and had asked Norberto to pick them up in one of the ranch trucks ASAP.
While they waited, Michael made small talk to take his mind off thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be entertaining. “So, what do you think of my ranch?”
“It’s sure big. A person could get lost out here.”
“Distances can be deceiving. I’m glad you didn’t try to bring Smokey along today.”
“Me, too. I might have, if I’d been sure he’d follow me when I was on horseback. I’ve never tried that before.”
“How’s he adjusting to the cabin?”
“Pretty well.” Layla peered through the falling snow. “He and King met by accident the other day and neither of them drew blood.”
“Good.”
“That’s what I thought. Poor Molly cowered and hid behind me but nothing bad happened. The males just circled each other and did a lot of posturing, then made their peace.”
“I wish people had that much sense,” Michael said. “Holding grudges is bad for everybody.”
“Especially when they’re directed at your friends and family?”
“Yeah. Especially then.” He paced to burn excess energy and warm himself up.
Layla took off the coat and held it out to him. “Here. I’m fine now. Really. I feel terrible seeing you shiver like that.”
“Then don’t look.”
Michael knew he sounded unduly annoyed but figured that emotion was safer than some of the others he’d had lately. Kissing Layla had been a big mistake. He’d liked it too much. Worse, he could tell she had, too. Getting romantically involved, given their differences, would do neither of them any good.
Then again, maybe there was hope. She did seem to like living on the Double V. Could she get used to staying in one place if she stuck around longer? He figured it was worth making the effort to find out.
“I meant to tell you,” Michael said. “I got a few rough estimates on repairs to your truck.”
Layla grimaced. “Do I want to hear how high they were?”
“Probably not.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “We’ve never discussed your wages. Shall we say I pay you by having your truck fixed, plus a little extra per diem?”
“You’d do that?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Because I’m positive those repairs will cost a lot more than you’d have to lay out if you gave me all cash.”
“I don’t mind,” Michael said, feeling guilty for having offered when his motives weren’t totally pure. As long as he had control of that truck of hers, he could delay her departure almost indefinitely.
“Okay, then. It’s a deal.” She held out her hand.
Instead of shaking hands with her, Michael took his jacket and shrugged into it. “I hear a truck coming. You ride home with Norberto. I’ll follow with the horses.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue, Doc. You may be our official cow mumbler but I’m still the boss around here.”
Layla frowned. “Yes, sir. I’ll be waiting in the barn to rub Fatima down when you get her home.”
“No.” Michael shook his head and gave her the sternest look he could muster. “You fix supper. Norberto and I will take care of the horses.”
And I won’t have to look at you and think about that kiss, he added, furious with himself. Their silly first kiss had started out as innocent fun. Then, before he’d realized things were spiraling out of hand, it had escalated into something more. Much more. Too bad he couldn’t take back the entire afternoon and forget how Layla had felt in his arms.
Snorting in disgust, Michael swung into the saddle. He might forget many things in the course of his life but he knew he’d never stop thinking about Layla Dixon. No matter what finally happened, where she went or what she did, she’d always have a special place in his heart.
His fondest wish was that she, too, would remember him with affection.
“They can’t be that smart,” El Jefe shouted. “It’s impossible.”
“Nevertheless, they were seen,” his companion answered. “If you don’t believe me…”
“I didn’t say that. I just can’t imagine how they’d know.” His fist smacked into his opposite palm, accentuating his pacing gait.
“Maybe they didn’t. Maybe they were lucky.”
“Luck has nothing to do with this,” El Jefe insisted. “My intellect is no match for theirs—any of theirs. Even as a team they don’t stand a chance against me.”
The other person’s tone was cajoling. “Of course they don’t. I wouldn’t worry. We can have the operation out there cleaned up in no time. That way, if they do decide to look into it further, they won’t find a thing.”
“Don’t bother.” El Jefe’s tone was prideful. “I can see no reason to take extra measures. I’ve eluded them so far. I’ll continue to do so.” He dismissed concern with a wave of the hand. “Never underestimate me.”
“Of course not. You are El Jefe, The Chief. No one comes close to you. Your cunning is legendary.”
A cackling laugh echoed in the cavernous room. “I am more than a legend,” El Jefe said. “I am a spirit. An avenger that can’t be touched. Ask anyone in the Vance or Montgomery families. They’ll tell you how much Baltasar Escalante was—is—feared.”
“And I am your humble servant. Your devoted ally. Should I fear you, too?” his companion asked.
Dark eyes narrowed to slits as El Jefe met the other’s gaze. “Only if you try to double-cross me. Many have tried. Many have died for their foolishness.” His lips curled with self-satisfied scorn. “Many more will go to their graves ruing the day they acted against
me.”
“Like Ritchie’s friend, you mean?”
“That was just a taste of how I reward failure. I will not let anything, or anyone, stop me.”
Nodding, his companion forced a complacent, submissive smile. “Whatever I can do to help, just ask. What is mine is yours. I am at your service.”
“You’d better be,” El Jefe warned. “Anyone who isn’t loyal will face the consequences by my own hand.”
Layla hunkered down in the truck cab beside Norberto and held her fingers in front of the warm air from the heater. “Br-r-r. It’s freezing out there.”
“Si, señorita.”
“I hope you didn’t get in trouble for letting me take the mare out.”
The wiry older man shrugged. “No problemo.”
“Yeah, well, there was plenty of problemo when your boss caught up to me. Boy, was he steamed!”
“It is good for him,” Norberto replied.
Layla arched a brow and swiveled to look behind the slow-moving truck. Michael had turned up the fleece-lined collar of his heavy coat and pulled his hat low over his forehead to block some of the wind, but he was clearly very cold. She saw him leave the wider track that the truck was following and start across the open range, apparently making a beeline for the barn.
“Why is it good?” She could see emotion in the ranch hand’s face, emotion she imagined might be affection. When he spoke, she was sure.
“Because Señor Vance has not cared in a long time. Not since that woman left. It is good for him to feel. To worry. It is a healthy thing.”
“You mean instead of bottling it up inside?”
“No.” Norberto was shaking his head when he glanced over at her. A smile was lifting the ends of his mustache. “I mean it is good to see him interested in someone again. Someone like you, who will be good for him.”
“Whoa! Hold your horses, mister. I’m the last person who’d be good for Michael—I mean, Mr. Vance. I’m glad to hear he’s healing from whatever Tammy did, but I’m certainly not in line to take her place.”
“Will you be his friend?”
“Of course. I already am.”
“Then that is enough. The other woman, she was never his friend. She had different plans. Everybody could see that but Señor Vance. I think she was always after his money, maybe as a way to get what she really wanted.”
The Danger Within Page 13
