style="font-size:15px;"> Josie hugged Ivy protectively to her, telling herself she shouldn’t have been surprised. She should have known he’d see Odell in her daughter. Should have known he’d question if Odell had known she was pregnant. Still, she felt sick inside. What would he do now?
Or was that the least of her worries?
She looked into his angry face, trying hard to understand what it was about her that made him so angry with her. “Odell knew I was pregnant.”
That seemed to surprise him. “You told him?”
“He guessed,” she admitted.
Clay frowned. “That must have been what the two of you were arguing about that day by your barn. I’m sure Odell wanted nothing to do with a baby.”
She looked down at her daughter. Ivy had fallen asleep again, her tiny cherub cheek warm and pink against Josie’s shoulder, the dimpled arms locked around her neck. Odell had been furious about her pregnancy. She shivered at the memory of his threat.
When she looked up again, Clay’s gaze seemed to soften. “So you struck out on your own. Just the two of you.”
Was that grudging admiration she heard in his voice?
“What did you use for money, Josie? I know you didn’t take much with you when you left.”
So much for admiration. She knew what he was implying. “I worked.”
“Pregnant?”
“I did what I had to do,” she said stubbornly, unwilling to admit how she’d really managed alone, broke and pregnant. Unwilling because she was ashamed of what she’d done. And it really wasn’t any of his business.
“You know I’m going to find out the truth.”
“My life doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t true. Clay was definitely one of the reasons she’d left Texas.
“We should get the baby to bed,” Mildred interrupted.
They both looked over at her. Clay seemed to have forgotten she was standing there, she’d been so quiet. And Josie had been distracted. Clay did that to her.
“Yes, you should get your baby to bed,” Clay said. “But you and I aren’t finished, Josie. Not by a long shot.”
She feared that was true as she slipped past him and headed back up the hill to her cabin with Mildred beside her.
“Who is that man?” Mildred asked when they were out of earshot.
“A neighbor of my family’s in Texas. I used to work for him.”
Mildred said nothing, but Josie knew the older woman realized there was a lot more to it.
“He’s the man I saw at the grocery store,” Mildred said. “What does he want?” She sounded worried.
“He’s here investigating a robbery.”
“He’s a policeman?” Mildred asked, sounding surprised but also relieved.
“No, he’s a former deputy sheriff, but he’s here unofficially.” She could tell Mildred feared that he meant her or Ivy harm. “Don’t worry. He’ll catch his crook and be gone soon.”
They walked in silence to the cabin, each lost in her own thoughts.
“You know, I might go on home, if you think you’ll be all right tonight,” Mildred said when they’d reached the cabin. “With all the excitement, I’m wide awake.”
Josie understood perfectly. Mildred said she cleaned when she was upset. Something told Josie that Mildred’s house was in for a scrubbin’. “We’ll be fine.”
Mildred bid her good-night after making certain that Josie had her pepper spray handy.
Josie watched her leave, worrying that Clay’s departure wouldn’t be that simple. Nothing with Clay had ever been simple. And she now had Raymond Degas to worry about as well.
AS CLAY LEFT THE STABLES, he heard the high-pitched whinny of a horse. He looked toward the pasture and spotted a stallion standing in the moonlight watching him. The image gave him a start, the horse reminded him so much of Diablo. But while Diablo had been black as midnight, this horse was a blood bay. Like Diablo, though, it stood at least seventeen hands high and had that spirited, wild look in its eyes.
The stallion watched him warily, then took off as if touched with an electric prod, disappearing into the darkness, leaving Clay with one lasting impression. That horse was dangerous. Just like Diablo had been.
But he knew that wasn’t why he’d gotten rid of Diablo. Even after the horse had almost killed him, he’d sold him because Diablo reminded him too much of Josie and an unforgettable dream he’d had about both of them.
Once at his truck, he drove up the road, parking out of sight of Josie’s cabin. Then, taking his bed-roll, he cut through the pines until he could see the cabin without being seen. He tossed down the bag and plopped down on it.
Raymond Degas would be back. Not tonight, probably. But sometime. Clay was betting that Raymond hadn’t found what he’d been looking for. And when he returned, Clay intended to be here.
When the lights blinked out in Josie’s cabin, he tried to get some sleep, but he couldn’t quit thinking about her.
Seeing her again had shaken him, much more than he wanted to admit. She was more beautiful than even he remembered. And the baby—
Odell’s child, he reminded himself.
He tried to think about the jewels and his quest for them, rather than Josie. But it was impossible.
He’d often wondered if Josie had somehow been involved in the robbery. Raymond leading him right to her left little doubt that his suspicions about her had been warranted. It gave him no satisfaction, though.
But if she’d been in on the jewel heist, then why was Raymond rummaging around in the stables in the dark instead of just asking Josie for what he wanted?
Clay swore. Unless Josie had double-crossed Odell and Raymond and taken the jewels.
That seemed pretty far-fetched, considering the woman was pregnant at the time. But with Josie O’Malley he wouldn’t rule out anything.
He even blamed her for the dream that had plagued him for the past two years. A dream he now thought of as That Damned Dream.
He’d started having the dream after being bucked off Diablo not once—but twice in twenty-four hours. The dream was always the same: Josie O’Malley riding through a creek toward him on the large black horse, the Texas hill country behind her, the horse’s hooves throwing up water droplets that hung in the moonlight. Josie coming out of the darkness of the live oaks and into the moonlight, wearing a yellow dress, her shoulders bare, the wet cotton clinging to her skin. She was buck-naked beneath the dress! Her nipples dark and hard, pressing against the soaked fabric as she dismounted and came to him where he’d fallen from the horse,
