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“Recording it would make it public. Look at the date. My guess is this document precedes any later transfers or sales of the property.” He pointed out the words Grant, Bargain, Sell, Assign, or Convey. “Without this deed, would the Ramirez family have owned the land, let alone have had any right to sell it?”
“So what? The point’s moot.” I shrugged. “Even though you’d inherit the land as Marianna’s descendant, you already own it.”
“Not quite.” As he unfolded the second page, he shook his head. “From the legal description, I believe the Ramirez ranch included twice as much land as this vineyard. Look at this drawing.”
“A vintage map…” My mind raced. “Can you tell the modern boundaries from these landmarks?”
“This looks like Dry Gulch Creek, that intermittent stream at the edge of the vineyard.” He drew his finger along a squiggly line, then laughed as he pointed out three small circles. “Yes! These must be those three cottonwoods.”
“You’re right.” I glanced at the three rings, recalling our hike around the vineyard’s perimeter. “But the map shows the creek flowing through the center of the ranch, not along the edge.”
“Exactly.” The corners of his eyes creased in a smile.
Squinting, I wracked my brain. “What am I missing?”
“This deed to the Ramirez ranch includes not only this vineyard, but Bea’s, as well.”
“Ah, now I see the legal repercussions.” As I grasped the document’s scope, Bea came to mind. “This outcome should prove interesting.”
“Even if I’m reading this legalese right and if Mateo recorded the deed, I wouldn’t follow through on it.” He shook his head. “I’d just like to satisfy my curiosity.”
“Where would you start?”
****
“The county clerk’s office might be a good place.” He crossed to the fireplace’s yawning compartment and jiggled the drawer. “For now, I’m more interested in how this safe works.” He closed the drawer, then pressed, pulled, and pushed every inch of the mantle. Finally, he tugged at the corner’s barely noticeable rise, and the drawer fell open. “How ’bout that?” Shaking his head, he chuckled. “That safe’s been Mateo’s secret for over a hundred and twenty years.”
“What did you touch?” Maeve moved closer. “I don’t see any difference between that corner and the rest of the mantle.”
“Place your finger here.” He patted the cedar beam.
“Where?” Her green eyes searched the mantlepiece.
“Here.” Taking her hand in his, he gently rubbed her finger over the wood’s bulge. “Feel that slight swelling?”
“That’s the lever? I thought it was just the wood’s grain.” Her hand still in his, she turned toward him. “Clever to hide it in full view.”
“Ingenious.” He turned her hand, so their palms touched. Then interlocking his fingers with hers, he rubbed his thumb across her palm in a circular motion, pulling her closer until the swell of her breasts pressed against his chest. His heart rate increasing, he gazed into her dilated pupils. Does she feel the same way?
Her breath hitched as her lips parted.
His groin aching as his jeans tightened, he wanted her. No longer able to block the impulse, he wrapped one arm around her back as he cradled her head in his other hand.
Her eyelids fluttering, she threw her arms around his neck and, with a muffled moan, pressed closer.
Their bodies silently communing, he ran his lips over her throat, sucking at her supple skin and moving his lips along her collarbone.
Encouraged as she shuddered and tilted her hips against him, he nudged open her shirt’s top button and nuzzled her breasts. Then he drew her to him in a deep kiss that left him wanting to slip off her clothes and feel her warm, soft skin against his. The urge to take her overpowering, he eyed the bed.
Whoa. What am I doing? As if shot with a water cannon, he pulled away, breathless.
She regarded him through wide, shellshocked eyes.
Like the lights coming up in the theater, the feverish mood broke. His arms fell to his sides as he stepped back. “Sorry, I—”
“No, I’m as much to blame—”
“I don’t know what came over me.” A nervous, self-conscious laugh escaped his lips.
