The Deputy Gets Her Man

by Stella Bagwell

  * * *

  The next day Rosalinda arrived at the Pine Ridge Ranch shortly after lunch. Gib met her at the door and informed her that Tyler was down at the stables getting the horses ready for their ride.

  She thanked him; then, rather than drive down the hillside to the ranch yard, she grabbed her bag and walked the distance over a well-padded trail.

  As she passed a maze of cattle pens, she met three of the ranch hands she’d questioned that first day after the fire. Today they greeted her in a much more affable manner. Probably because she was out of uniform, she thought wryly. Or perhaps they’d learned the investigation was now concentrated on the Chaparral.

  At the horse stables, she found Tyler in the saddling paddock, adjusting a breast collar on Inky, the black horse he’d ridden the other day. A few yards away, the paint, Moonpie, was already tacked up and tied to a cedar hitching post.

  “So I’m riding Moonpie again?” she asked as she approached him and the horses.

  The sound of her voice brought Tyler’s head around and the smile he shot her filled her with unexpected pleasure. To see this man happy made her feel good in a way she didn’t understand.

  “You and Moonpie got along so well I decided to put you two together again.”

  “That’s great. He’s a honey horse.”

  Clearly amused by her remark, he stepped away from his mount to meet her. “Hmm. A honey horse. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that equine description before.”

  Rosalinda chuckled. “That’s my way of saying he’s sweet.”

  She could feel Tyler’s gaze wandering up and down her body and Rosalinda wondered if he’d been thinking about the kiss they’d shared on the patio. Had he remembered the way her lips had clung to his? The way her hands had explored his chest and locked over his shoulders? She’d not wanted to let him go or to give up the taste of his mouth. And something about the way he’d looked at her had said he’d not wanted to let her go, either.

  If she’d not found the willpower to call an end to the evening, the two of them would’ve mostly likely ended up making love. Just the idea of being that connected to this man filled her with reckless excitement.

  “You look like you’re ready,” he remarked. “Do you have everything with you that you’ll need for the ride?”

  “Right here.” She patted her bag.

  “I’ve put saddlebags on Moonpie. You can put whatever you need in them.”

  “Thanks.”

  She stepped over to the horse to transfer her things to the saddlebags when someone suddenly emerged from the tack room. Taking a second glance, Rosalinda saw that it was Santo Garza, the wrangler she’d handcuffed and threatened to haul to jail. Seeing her, he walked over and, with a sheepish grin, reached a hand to her in greeting.

  “Deputy Lightfoot, you’re not here to arrest me today, are you?”

  Smiling, Rosalinda shook his hand. “I’m off duty today, Santo. Call me Rosa. And I’m glad to see you’re not still angry with me.”

  “Sorry about that. I was in a bad mood that day. The fire made me mad.” The wrangler scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot. “Ty don’t bother nobody. He don’t deserve to have his land burned.”

  “I agree, Santo. Sheriff Hamilton has deputies patrolling the two ranches more frequently these days. And we’re putting all our clues together. Hopefully we’re going to catch the criminal before he does it again.”

  “I’ll keep my eyes open, Miss Rosa. If I see anything suspicious I’ll let you know. And this time it’ll be the truth,” he added with a chuckle.

  “Thanks, Santo. I appreciate the help.”

  The other man went on his way and Tyler walked over to where she stood at Moonpie’s side. As she watched him grow closer, Rosalinda’s heart jumped into a quickstep. He was dressed in very faded jeans and a dark gray shirt with the sleeves rolled against his forearms. His lean body moved with lazy litheness, while the soft fabric of his clothing revealed well-honed muscles that came from years of strenuous outdoor labor.

  “See, I told you Santo wouldn’t hold a grudge over those handcuffs,” he said.

  “I’m glad.” She reached for his hand and clasped it tightly. “And I hope you’re not angry with me.”

  Beneath the brim of his gray hat, his brows formed a quizzical line. “Angry? Why would I be angry with you? You didn’t handcuff me.”

  “I’m talking about last week. When we had dinner together. I left abruptly and I got the impression that you probably thought I was running away from you.”

  “Weren’t you?” he asked softly.

  Emotions tightened her throat. “Yes. In a way.”

  Moving closer, he folded her hand between the two of his, and the warmth she drew from his touch was unlike any she’d experienced before.

  “And what good did running get you?” he asked.

  She dared to meet his gaze. “It kept us from doing something we might regret.”

  “Like making love?” he asked huskily. “That’s not something I would have regretted, Rosa.”

  His admission shook her. Because deep down she didn’t think she would regret giving herself to this man. It was the aftermath, and what it might bring, that worried her.

  Glancing away from him and down the long shed rows, she watched a horse poke its head over a stall gate and nicker loudly.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve missed you.” She brought her gaze back to his face. “Today is the first day I’ve had free in a long time. And I wouldn’t have had that if another deputy hadn’t offered to fill in for me.”

  “Yesterday when Gib told me that you’d called, I was surprised. I figured you’d decided against making the ride to the cabin.”

  With a faint shake of her head, she said, “I told you I would go. And I always try to keep my word.”

  He touched a finger to her cheek. “I’m glad you kept it this time. And that you’re spending your free day with me.”

  For a moment, the world seemed to stop and all she could think about was moving forward, pressing her body against his and seeking the delicious taste of his lips. But the ranch yard was full of busy cowboys and, behind her, Moonpie had begun to paw the dirt.

  Suddenly she could feel the sexual spark between them, arcing like jagged lightning connecting two clouds. “I—uh—think he’s saying we need to get going.”

  Clearing his throat, he dropped his hand and stepped back. “We do need to be on our way,” he said, gesturing toward the paint. “Lead him up and I’ll help you on.”

  * * *

  When Rosalinda had first arrived at the ranch, the sky had been cloudless and the wind so faint that hardly a leaf stirred. But as she and Tyler rode west, then north into the mountains, heavy clouds began to roll in and the wind sang through the pines. Even so, the weather remained warm and as Tyler had predicted, the landscape grew ever more beautiful as the horses carefully picked their way up the mountain trail.

  After about forty-five minutes, he motioned for her to follow him off the beaten path and onto a faint track that led into a thick stand of pines.

  “If you’re ready for a break, there’s something over here I want to show you,” he called back to her.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” she assured him.

  The trail through the trees was cushioned with a thick blanket of pine needles. The natural carpet muffled the clank of the horses’ shoes, making the trek into the dense forest eerily quiet. But after a while a faint roaring sound interrupted the silence.

  “I hear something,” she called up to Tyler. “What is it?”

  “You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

  A few more feet and the pines gave way to a small opening. Ten feet in front of them a bed of huge boulders rose high above their heads, blotting out the faint rays
of light slanting through the fir trees.

  “We’ll have to leave our horses here,” he told Rosalinda. “And walk through that crevice in the boulders.”

  He dismounted, then helped her down from the saddle. This time when her feet landed on the ground, her legs didn’t feel quite as rubbery as they had the day they’d ridden to the burn site. But Tyler must have thought she needed supporting anyway. His hand remained firmly locked around hers as they walked through the narrow break in the rocks.

  Once the two of them emerged on the other side of the boulders, Rosalinda gasped at the sight.

  “A waterfall! And it’s so huge! I didn’t realize there could be this much water so high up on the mountain.”

  Standing at her side, he curved his arm against the back of her waist. Warmed by the connection, Rosalinda allowed her hip to rest against his.

  “Later this summer there won’t be as much water. And in the winter it freezes,” he told her. “That’s a sight to see. The whole thing turns to a wall of white ice.”

  “It must look like a winter wonderland when that happens. Can we get closer?” she asked.

  “Only if you promise to keep hold of my hand.”

  “Cross my heart.”

  Tyler led her forward until she was close enough to peer over the edge of rock surrounding the falls. Some twenty feet below, the force of the water had cut a wide gash in the side of the mountain and formed a natural pond dammed by rocks, silt and underbrush. Aspens and desert willows grew nearby, shedding fragile shadows across the pool, while giving a playground to a flock of birds flitting from limb to limb. Although there was no other sign of wildlife at the moment, Rosalinda could easily see this place as a watering hole for deer and bears and possibly even mountain lions.

  “Do your cattle ever water here?” she asked curiously. “Or is it too rough and wild for them?”

  “They do. Although they aren’t in this area right now. The men have moved them over to the eastern slopes.”

  “So how far is it to the cabin from here?”

  Easing her back from the rock ledge, he pointed in a northwesterly direction. “Up there. About ten more minutes.”

  To reach their destination, they had to ride up above the falls, then over for a quarter more of a mile. By then, they’d left the dense forest of pines and instead twisted juniper and huge clumps of sage began to emerge between scrubby piñon trees. When they finally rode to the top of a barren crest, a narrow canyon lay before them. To one side of the deep crevice, a small cabin made of chinked logs sat precariously on the steep mountainside.

  “There it is,” Tyler announced. “What do you think?”

  Standing up in her stirrups, Rosalinda peered at the sight before her. “It looks like something out of a Western movie. A place bandits would use to hole up with their stolen gold.”

  “Funny that you should mention gold. That’s the reason the cabin is here. An old prospector built it to live in while he worked his mine.”

  “There’s a mine around here?”

  “Not far from the cabin. Come on and I’ll show you.”

  At the cabin they dismounted and Tyler quickly eased the girths on Inky and Moonpie and, after removing their saddlebags, turned the horses loose in a small grassy area so the animals could graze.

  “Do you want to see the mine first or the inside of the cabin?” he asked.

  Chuckling, she rubbed the front of her weary thighs. “I think we’d better look the mine over first. Otherwise, if I sit down I might never get back up.”

  After drinking from the bottled water packed in their saddlebags, Tyler guided her to a spot about thirty feet up and behind the cabin. There, a small entrance in the side of the mountain was framed with rotted timbers. An X of newer-looking boards had been nailed across the opening to prevent cattle or curious little calves from exploring the dangerous cavern.

  “So what was supposedly mined here?” Rosalinda asked as she poked at the fine gravel spilling out from the doorway. The small rocks were a strange orange and yellow color that didn’t match the big boulders lying around on the ground.

  “I’m not sure. Could’ve been silver or gold. I’ve heard stories of both. You know that Quint did find a very lucrative gold deposit on his ranch over by Fort Stanton?”

  “Yes. I’ve heard Brady speak of the Golden Spur Mine. Last I heard they were still hauling ore from it.” She gestured toward the small opening. “This must’ve been some guy trying to strike it on his own. Wonder if he ever found anything?”

  “I doubt it. Otherwise, he would’ve stuck around and expanded the dig.”

  Turning away from the mine opening, she stared southward. From this point, the view was more open. She could even glimpse a slither of the Rio Bonito winding its way across a small valley. “He stuck around long enough to build a house,” Rosalinda pointed out. “Could be he found something more important than gold or silver here.” Maybe he’d found a woman in town and decided marrying her and having a family was more important than gold, she thought.

  She turned her gaze on him. “You’ve never thought about having a geologist test this area?”

  He shook his head. “I want to keep my peace of mind, Rosa, not wreck it worrying about discovering the mother lode.”

  So he wasn’t interested in becoming rich. At least, not rich in precious metals. But what about love? She’d thought a lot about the things he’d told her of his life in Texas and what he’d gone through with his ex-wife and family. He’d basically lost his whole family. Would he ever want to try and patch it back together? Ever want a family of his own?

  He’d probably resent those questions, she thought. And she had no right asking them. Not when she was still keeping her past with Dale a secret.

  Reaching for her arm, he said, “Let’s go back to the cabin. Gib packed us some snacks.”

  “Sounds good,” she agreed.

  As they descended the steep ground, she focused her thoughts to the present. “Is the trail we rode here to the cabin the only way to get here? I mean, obviously it can be hiked from any direction, but I was talking about another trail that a horse or even a four-wheeler could travel.”

  “There’s another trail just west of here. It actually runs into a road that travels over Chaparral land. In fact, that’s the road where Alexa, Quint’s sister, was kidnapped by cattle rustlers a few years ago. It caused quite a stir—brought all the family together. And her husband—the Texas Ranger—was the one who found her.”

  “Hmm. That’s interesting.”

  “Why? What are you thinking?”

  “Just wondering if this place might be connected to the fire in any way? How far is it from here to the cliff where the fire was set?”

  “Oh, as the crow flies probably a half mile,” he said thoughtfully. “But it’s rough going. The road west of here on Chaparral land would give a person a lot smoother access to the cliff. A bit more distance, though.”

  “Well, it was just a thought.” She looked at him and smiled. “But that’s enough about that. I don’t want to spend my day off going over clues.”

  “Neither do I,” he agreed.

  Back at the cabin, Rosalinda followed Tyler onto the small planked porch, then through a thick, wooden door.

  “With the windows all shut, it’s pitch-black in here,” he warned. “Give me a moment and I’ll get some light.”

  While she waited in the doorway, he unlatched the heavy wooden shutters and shoved them open. As the muted daylight streamed through the square openings Rosalinda looked curiously around the room.

  A small square table sat in the middle of the board floor. On the back wall were a row of shelves made of rough lumber, along with a small counter that held a granite wash pan and galvanized water pail. To the right of the table, a crude bedstead had been built into a
corner. Rosalinda was surprised to see it was made up with a patchwork quilt and two pillows in clean white cases. A few feet down from the bed, a rock fireplace stretched across another corner.

  “My ranch hands use this old place during the hunting season. They stock it up with food and lay in some firewood for cold weather. Right now it’s pretty dusty and empty.”

  Intrigued by the sturdy structure, Rosalinda stepped farther into the room. “I like it. It’s very rustic, but very charming. Do you ever stay here overnight?”

  “I have. But it’s been a while. For the first year or two after I purchased this land I used to come up here just to be alone. I’d sit on the porch and stare down at the valley and ask myself if I’d done the right thing.”

  “The right thing about what?” She walked over to the fireplace and trailed her fingers over the rough mantle. What sort of man had built this cabin? she wondered. A man like Tyler? One driven and determined to make it on his own? One thing was for sure, both men had been adventurous.

  When he didn’t answer immediately, she glanced around to see him shrugging one shoulder.

  He said, “Buying this piece of land. Some of the so-called cattlemen around here warned me that I’d never be able to run Herefords on it—swore there were too many mountains and not enough meadows. But I’ve proved them wrong. Them and a few more folks, I imagine.”

  “You’re talking about your family now?”

  Nodding, he lifted the globe from the lamp and struck a match. Once the wick began to burn, he adjusted the flame and returned the globe. “I don’t expect my father or brother ever expected me to survive on my own. They both believed I relied on my brain too much instead of my back.”