sage, saguaro and blooming yucca.
Another wave of emotion caused her voice to quaver. “Is this my land?”
“Most of it. Your boundary stops before it reaches the mountains. The most productive grazing area runs to the east toward Three Rivers,” he explained. “Before Ray became ill, he ran about fifty to a hundred head of cattle. After it became impossible for him to care for the herd, he sold out. I can tell you, giving up his cattle and horses hurt him about as much as the lung disease.”
“I believe that. I live on a large ranch in Nevada. I see firsthand how much the livestock means to everyone who cares for them.”
She glanced over her shoulder to see he was studying her with an air of faint surprise.
“So you’re used to living in the country.”
“Absolutely. This place is closer to a town than what I’m accustomed to.” She turned and walked over to a long row of varnished pine cabinets. Another wide window sat over a double porcelain sink. After turning on the water to make sure it was in working order, she gazed out at the small backyard shaded by two huge Joshua trees. It was a cozy area with a small rock patio furnished with a pair of red motel chairs and a tiny white table for drinks.
“It’s fifteen miles from here to town,” he informed her.
The skeptical sound in his voice put a faint smile on her face. “Yes, I know. The Silver Horn is double that amount of miles from Carson City.”
“The Silver Horn,” he repeated thoughtfully. “I think I’ve heard of that ranch.”
“The Calhouns own it. Bart and Orin Calhoun.”
“I’m not familiar with—uh—” Deep thought put a crease between his brows and then he snapped his fingers with recognition. “Now I remember. My brother Holt purchased a broodmare from that ranch about four years ago. She’s been a dandy.”
“The Calhouns are known more for their quality horses than anything,” she told him.
He walked toward her and Tessa found herself backing up until her hips bumped into the cabinets.
“But your name isn’t Calhoun,” he pointed out.
“No. It isn’t.” As far as she was concerned, she didn’t have to explain anything else to this man. She rubbed her palms down the front of her jeans. “Uh, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go get my things.”
“I’ll help you.”
Tessa let out a silent groan. Was the man never going to leave? Aloud she said, “Thanks. I do have several bags.”
What are you so antsy about, Tessa? A normal woman would be enjoying the company of a good-looking man. And Joseph Hollister definitely fits that description. What are you afraid of? That you might actually allow yourself to be attracted to the deputy?
Trying to ignore the taunting voice in her head, she walked past him and out of the kitchen.
* * *
As Joseph followed Tessa Parker out to her truck, he mentally cursed himself. What the hell was he doing? He’d already investigated the situation and made certain no one was going to vandalize his late friend’s home. He’d checked this woman’s credentials and everything appeared accurate. She had a legitimate reason for being on the Bar X Ranch, so why was he still hanging around when he should’ve left a half hour ago? Because she looked like a walking dream?
Her slim, angular face was dominated by startling blue eyes, prominent cheekbones and a soft, wide mouth. Straight, caramel-brown hair hung nearly to her waist and though she was far more slender than his usual taste in women, she was nicely curved in all the right places. Her creamy skin was smooth and soft, like she’d been living in a tropical climate rather than the dry west. Furthermore, she carried herself with class and grace.
Yeah, all those things were pleasant to a man’s eyes, he conceded. But in Tessa Parker’s case, it had been the vulnerable wobble in her voice and the emotions flickering in her eyes that had tugged at something inside him. Even if she did have a family back in Nevada, she seemed to be very alone. And that notion bothered Joseph far too much.
“I’m sure I brought much more than I need,” she was saying as she opened the back door on the truck. “But since I was uncertain about how long I’ll be staying, I wanted to have plenty.”
She placed two very large suitcases on the ground, along with a pair of duffel bags. Joseph picked up the suitcases, both of which were quite heavy.
“I’ll get these,” he said. “If the duffel bags are heavy, leave them. I’ll fetch them later.”
“Thank you,” she said, “but I can manage.”
Joseph followed her back up the steps of the retaining wall and into the house. Along the way, he found himself watching the sway of her slender hips and the curtain of thick hair moving gently against her back.
In the living room, she placed the bags she’d been carrying on the rug and turned on a table lamp situated near the recliner.
Joseph asked, “Where would you like for me to put these?”
She gestured to a spot on the floor near the other bags. “Just sit them down there. Both bags have wheels. I’ll deal with them later.”
For some idiotic reason he felt a wash of warm color burn his face. “I can see they have wheels. But they’re both very heavy.”
An impatient, even wary expression crossed her face and it dawned on Joseph that he was making her uncomfortable. But then he had to remember he was a stranger to this woman. He couldn’t expect her to behave as though he was an old friend.
“Well, yes, they are. But—” She broke off with a shake of her head then gestured toward the archway. “All right, let’s go.”
She started out of the room in a long stride and Joseph fell into step behind her. As they made their way down a narrow hallway, the scent of her flowery perfume teased him like a gentle ocean breeze.
“I don’t suppose you have any idea which bedroom Mr. Maddox used, would you?”
Her question snapped him out of his dreamy cloud. “I’ve only been as far as the study,” he admitted. “It’s the first door on your right. Why do you want to know about Ray’s bedroom, anyway?”
Pausing in the middle of the hallway, she turned to look at him. “This is probably going to sound silly to you, but I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable about staying in Mr. Maddox’s room.”
“I don’t understand why you’d feel that way. This is your house now.”
As soon as he’d said the words, he wished he could take them back. They sounded insensitive, even rude. And she didn’t deserve that. Not unless she turned out to be a complete fraud.
Seemingly unoffended by his tart remark, she said, “That’s true. But I’m a stranger in this house. I feel it would be more proper for me to stay in a guest room.”
Even though she’d told him she hadn’t been
