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“But you were to go to the priest and marry her before leaving town,” said Madre.
“Can’t hide...gunshot from...a wife,” huffed Rafael.
Madre opened her mouth to say something.
“Open his door and get his bed ready, Madre,” Daniel said.
She threw back her shoulders and glared at him. She would hate that he was ordering her around, but he didn’t have time to coax cooperation out of her. Instead, he poked Rafael, so he’d prod her. Rafe had much better luck getting their mother to do things.
“Please, Ma.” Rafe slumped against his brother.
They staggered across the courtyard toward Rafe’s room.
Pressing her lips together, she hurried ahead to open Rafael’s door and yanked down the covers on the freshly made bed.
“Damn, this messes...up...every...thing.”
Daniel leaned close to his brother. “You’ll just have to wait until you’re healed to marry her. Tell her you’re giving her a chance to get to know you before...” Daniel’s ears heated as he thought of his brother bedding the pretty redhead. Not that women ever seemed to require a long acquaintance with Rafael before they were willing to share intimacies with him. In fact, they rarely even noticed anyone else in the room once Rafael flashed his smile at them. Although, neither of them had a lot of experience with respectable women. “After all, she’s been raised to expect courting.”
Anna wasn’t the kind of fancy piece men traveled to San Francisco or into Mexico to find. She was a rarity in California: a respectable unmarried woman. Even back when the rancheros had gotten together for regular fiestas and the daughters of the other ranch owners were there, they’d gravitated toward Rafael and all but ignored Daniel.
“But...” Rafael frowned.
“With Madre in the house, there is no impropriety.”
Rafael lowered his eyelids in an almost sleepy look.
Daniel wanted to kick him for even thinking about seducing his future wife. He shook his head at the odd spurt of jealousy.
Daniel got Rafael on the bed and backed toward the door. “You got this, Ma?”
“Daniel, you stay here and help,” ordered Madre.
“He needs t’ go.” Rafael insisted. “Can’t let it get any later.”
* * *
The light grew murky as Daniel neared the edge of town. He’d run the horses as much as he could but had had to slow them to a walk rather than look as if he was in a crazed hurry.
First he’d pick up Anna, then head to the sheriff’s, report the horses stolen and determine what the sheriff knew. Really, though, the idea of a rancher with one of the biggest spreads around stopping a stagecoach was ludicrous and the best protection they had against the law putting two and two together.
He tried to slow his breathing. If she recognized him from that moment when they’d looked at each other, he didn’t know what he’d do.
He turned onto the street with the stage office. In the gloom, a woman in white instead of green sat on the bench. A broad-brimmed hat with flowers covered her hair so he couldn’t see if it was red. Still his heart thundered in his chest. He just knew. It was Anna.
He drew closer and pulled the horses to a stop in front of her. The minute he saw her face, he couldn’t look away. His muscles tense, he waited for a glimmer of recognition.
She stood up, her gloved hands twisting in front of her. “Mr. Werner?”
“Yes.” Belatedly, he realized he couldn’t know her beyond her photograph. “You’re prettier than your picture.” What a stupid thing to say. “Miss O’Malley.”
She inclined her head, blocking his view with the wide straw brim of her hat. Then she met his eyes.
He tightened his hold on the reins, waiting for her to recognize him. Her head tilted.
She heaved a deep breath that made her chest rise and fall under her white gown. “I was beginning to think you’d never come.”
He dragged his eyes away from the lace over the material that covered her chest, but in reality added an extra layer. Forming words with his suddenly too thick tongue he said, “There was a bit of trouble back on the ranch.”
His throat clogged, and he had to clear it. He had to get down out of the wagon before she started to wonder what was wrong with him. Forcing his rigid body to move normally, he set the brake and wrapped the reins around the handle.
“It has been a trying day,” she said in a small voice. “When are we going to the ranch?”
She couldn’t be the one who shot Rafael. She’d have trouble swatting a fly. He swallowed a deep breath. The lies he’d rehearsed on the way into town threatened to choke him. “I’m afraid I need to speak with the sheriff before we leave.”
“Do you know, then?” Her face paled, and even in the dim light it made the scattering of freckles across her nose stand out. “About the robbery?”
Alarm jolted through his chest. Daniel tried to sound casual. “What robbery?”
In the normal course of events, he wouldn’t know about the stagecoach shooting yet. Attempting to smooth out the jerkiness his body seemed intent on imposing on him, he lowered the tailgate and waited for lightning to strike him dead. Damn Rafael for putting him in a position where he had to layer falsehood upon falsehood.
“There was a stagecoach robbery,” she said.
Daniel missed a beat as he tried to figure out how to respond as if he didn’t know. He stared at her and had to take a deep breath to force out what was likely the appropriate response. His hand fisted so hard his fingers cramped. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” The waver in her voice suggested she wasn’t.
He wanted to kick his brother for terrorizing an innocent woman. But Rafael must have it wrong. It must have been the other one who’d shot him. Anna’s friend, Selina, the one coming to marry the store owner.
Daniel stepped toward her. The urge to comfort her pulled at him.
The questions he should be asking jumbled in his brain. He knew she hadn’t had anything stolen, but a man in his position would ask. “If anything of yours was taken, we can buy new. Send back east.”
She hurtled forward and tossed her arms around his neck. “I was so scared.”
The contact of her body set him on fire. His breath whooshed out. Hell and heaven.
He hesitated. He hadn’t the right to hold her. She was his brother’s intended, but she trembled. She drew him like a lost calf would. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against him.
“It’s all right. You’re safe now,” he murmured. That much was true, and the reassurance came out so much easier than the lies.
Damn, she felt delicious. Her breasts were against his chest, and her nose was tucked into his shoulder. Her scent—sweet, spicy—fogged his brain. He wanted to hold her forever.
“Are we getting married tonight?”
He jerked back. “No!”
She stared at him, going even paler, her green eyes wide. He had the ridiculous notion to kiss her freckled nose. What was wrong with freckles, anyway?
Her eyes narrowed as color flooded back into her cheeks. “When then?”
Hells bells, she thought he was Rafael.
“I’m Daniel. I’m going to be your brother. Rafael—”
He stared at her as the color drained from her face again. Her mouth flattened, and her eyes shot shards of bottle glass in his direction. She shoved him away.
Damn. He’d never let her loose.
“What was that?” she demanded.
Now she seemed like a woman not afraid to turn a gun on a man instead of the waiflike thing she’d seemed when he had driven up. Thank the Lord she’d be Rafe’s problem, because the last thing Daniel ever wanted was a strong-willed woman, no matter how good she felt curled against him.
Chapter Three
We have six hands that work the spread and you’ll have my mother and a girl to help you with the house. A neighbor comes in twice a month to do laundry. Life is probably simpler out here than you are used to. The hands all live in the house with us and we share meals like one big family.
“Comfort?” Daniel Werner said.
Anna searched the dark eyes of the man before her. His hug had felt nothing like what one of her brothers might have given her, and it had set off a riot of sensation deep inside her. But he was to be her brother-in-law, not her husband.
She wanted to drop through the boards under her feet or to smack him. But she’d thrown herself at him, not the other way around.
“You went through a lot with a stagecoach robbery.” He screwed up his nose and had the grace to look slightly sheepish. He reached for his forehead as if to adjust a hat, but then ran his fingers through his uncovered dark hair. “You have a trunk?”
Grateful for the reprieve, she turned around and pointed to the lone bags left on the walkway. There was nothing to do but march to the wagon and climb onto the seat. Then, of course, she realized a gently bred lady would have waited for assistance. She tried to gather herself together and ignore that the past few minutes in Daniel’s arms had been like a homecoming.
