Page 28 of Promised by Post
“Six to seven leagues.” He rubbed his nose again and lifted one shoulder. More like three leagues. And Spanish leagues at that. Really, they were on the far northern edge of the ranch, and the ranch was a little less than eight miles long. “We might as well go back down to the orchard and eat our lunch.”
She twisted toward him, her green eyes nailing him. “You really think they’re around twenty miles away?”
He cleared his throat. “Spanish leagues aren’t quite as long as English.”
He started his horse down the hillside.
“Well, if it will take me hours, I’d better get going,” Anna called.
Alarm skittered down his spine. “I’m not done in the vineyard yet.”
“As long as I keep that line of mountains to my right, I should be able to travel pretty much straight to the herd,” she continued blithely.
“I can’t let you ride across the open countryside alone,” he said.
“Why not? You told me it was perfectly safe.”
“When you were with me. And I had a shotgun just in case.” Daniel spurred his horse down the hill. How in the hell would he stop her if she decided to take off across the land? “The horse thieves could still be out there.”
She cast him a dark look. “I thought you said the stagecoach robbers were in Mexico.”
“Probably in Mexico.” The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t going away.
She’d been silent as they rode up the hill and now was silent again as they rode down, but he was fairly certain he hadn’t heard the end of it.
When they reached the edge of the orchard, he dismounted and went to help her down, but she looked past the trees and said, “I can start ahead, and, if you are so worried about me going alone, you can gallop your horse to catch up to me when you’re done.”
He searched for a way to stop her, but in the meantime he caught the horse’s bridle. “Anna—”
“Either Rafael wants to marry me or he doesn’t.” She stared off into the distance, refusing to meet his eyes. “I want to know now. Even if I have to ride for hours to confront him.”
“How could he not want you? You are beautiful and—” The traits he could list about her, such as she was damn inquisitive, overly skeptical and too smart for her own good, weren’t things he thought would help the cause. “And spirited—”
“Neither of you see spirited as an asset. I’m not beautiful, and I’m not a lady. And if your brother wants rid of me, then I wish he’d say so.”
He hated that Anna was being hurt by their subterfuge, but if he told her the truth and she wanted to turn them in, they were in a world of trouble. “Everything has been thrown on its head because of the robberies. Trust me—it will all work out in the end. Rafe just asked me to take care of you while he sorts things out.”
She looked at him again. He could see the yearning to believe in her green eyes, but also the skepticism in the stiff way she held herself. “Why? What has become more important than getting to know his bride or getting married? Especially if he thinks our marriage will help him keep the land. The robbers are long gone, aren’t they? It is more like everyone is trying to hide him from me.”
Acid burned in his stomach, and the hairs on his arm stood up.
“Even if I have to spend a night outside, I would rather talk to him today.”
“You cannot mean to camp with a group of men.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to sleep outside, and the weather is so much nicer here.”
A mild outrage flitted through him at the idea of her having to sleep without shelter, but the bigger problem of stopping her from realizing Rafael wasn’t with the herd dug claws into his back.
“Please let go of the reins,” she said icily.
“You can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“Because Rafael isn’t with the herd.”
Her gaze swiveled around and pinned him. Her throat worked as she blinked at him as if she didn’t know what to think. “Where is he?”
Hell! He was going to have to lie more to her. For a second all he wanted was to just tell her the truth, but he couldn’t. Not until he had an idea what she would do if she knew her betrothed was the stagecoach robber she’d shot.
“He’s out tracking the thieves.” He reached up. “Come on, Anna. Let me help you down.”
Shaking off his outstretched hands, she dismounted without his help. Once on the ground, she met his gaze squarely and asked in a deadly still voice, “I ask again, why is finding them more important that getting to know me?”
“Because we might know the men.” He tensed, waiting for the earth to shake or lightning to strike.
“What?” Her jaw dropped.
It almost wasn’t a lie. They knew the men. He held his breath and watched her face as she figured out what he’d said. Her forehead crinkled in confusion; then her eyes widened and her eminently kissable mouth rounded in an O.
He tensed.
She snapped her mouth shut. Her pale cheeks bloomed. Her jaw thrust forward, she stepped toward him. Her voice low, she said, “You know who took your horses and held up the stage?”
“I said we might,” he repeated.
“Who?”
“We have our suspicions.”
She took another step in his direction. “Who?”
He scraped at the dirt by his feet. “Could have been some of our hands or former hands or it could have been some of our Valquez cousins.”
“You know for certain, do you?”
“Of course not.” He sucked in a deep breath. Now was the time to sound her out, find out what she would do if she knew Rafael was the main robber. “Rafael is trying to find out, but he doesn’t know what to do if he learns...someone he trusted did this.”
“He should turn them in,” she said unequivocally.
“So he can watch them hang?”
She swallowed hard.
He pressed his advantage. “After all, we have other horses and nothing was taken from the stage.”
“They. Shot. People.”
Not the answer he’d hoped for. And he wanted to quibble about the shooting. He certainly hadn’t shot anyone. “You said you didn’t want to be responsible for the man’s death. How would you feel if it were someone you knew? Perhaps someone you were related to?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Perhaps she was a little less vehement. “And they wouldn’t hang unless they were convicted by a judge and jury.”
She paced away down the row and then pivoted and returned while he stood holding the horses. “Rafael is trying to find the robbers, is he?”
“Something like that,” he muttered.
“And what will he do if he finds he knows them? Turn them in or help them get away?”
“I don’t know.”
“Has he no honor?” she whispered.
Daniel swallowed hard. “I believe he is tormented by the idea that he might have to turn them in. I don’t know if he’s made a decision. He might ask why they held up the stage before he decides.”
Her brows drew together. “The robber said he was looking for a man who’d cheated him in Santa Fe. Or at least that is what one of the passengers translated.”
“And if that was the sole reason they stopped the stage, would you want them hanged?”
“Daniel, I shot the robber because he was shooting at us. Whatever their reason for holding up the stagecoach, everything changed when shots were exchanged.”
“Who fired first?” he challenged.
“It doesn’t matter.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is he hiding them already?”
“No. Rafe’s not hiding anyone.” Technically the truth, because they were hiding him. “I don’t know what he’ll do when he finds them, but I trust him to do the right thing. Either way his decision will weigh heavily on him. But you shouldn’t think his neglect has anything to do with you, because it doesn’t. Once he has this settled, he’ll make you forget that he wasn’t much of a suitor when you first arrived.” He would, too. Rafe could charm a coyote if he had a mind to.
She closed her eyes as if she’d forgotten why they had started discussing this. “He should turn them in. That man shot a one-armed ex-soldier in his only remaining arm. I don’t think that is something that can be forgiven. What I don’t understand is all the trickery.”
“We were afraid to tell you what we suspected. Believe me—I’d rather be honest.” And that was the truth.
Her eyes narrowed again. “Really? Then why did you lie to your mother to get her to fix me eggs without chilis?”
Daniel sucked in a deep breath. “She already thinks you don’t like her cooking.”
“You could have just said the eggs were for me.” Anna ducked her head and folded her arms. Then she lifted her eyes and tilted her head. “Or I suppose I should have asked myself. But I didn’t want the food she’d already made to go to waste.”