there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Tia murmured.
“Better not be too much fire,” Caine cut in. “Josie’s under the protection of Hell’s Eight.”
Luke shook his head. He might be fascinated, but he wasn’t suicidal. “No need to worry. As soon as that woman opens her mouth, any interest a man has dies.”
“Oh?” Tia cocked her head. “I find her quite funny, and Sally Mae says she is a most interesting woman.”
It was Luke’s turn to snort. “All she talks about are those plates and chemicals she uses to make those tintypes.”
“Have you even seen her work?” Caine asked.
“No.” Ever since the woman had pushed him out of his place at the wedding to set up a picture and stolen his point of view with a smile and an elbow in his side, he’d been avoiding the temptation.
“You should.”
“Uh-huh.”
“She is my guest,” Tia reminded him quietly. “And I promised her we did not mind her coming along.”
He’d imagined Josie’d pushed herself into the trip. “You invited her?”
Tia shrugged. “Pictures of my grandson would be good to have in my parlor.”
“There might be photographers out there.”
Tucker snorted. “Now you’re clutching at straws.”
“Yes, he is,” Zach cut in. “The Montoya ranch, it is big, but it’s remote. There are no photographers.”
There went that argument.
Tia smiled at Josie. Josie smiled back.
That smile had way too much impact on his libido, coming as it did from a woman holding the reins of a gaudily painted peddler’s wagon drawn by a knock-kneed horse wearing a ridiculous bonnet sprouting a huge plume of weeds that bobbed with every plodding step. The right wheel hit a bump. The pans attached to the side clattered. Lounging on the porch, Desi’s hound, Boone, lifted his head and moaned before sinking back onto the sun-warmed wood.
“Between that wagon and her...eccentricities, she’ll get us all killed.”
From the edge of the yard came an amused and far too appreciative “I think she will add some beautiful scenery to the journey.”
The last thing he wanted was the too-handsome vaquero noticing Josie. “Shut up, Zach.”
“What do you have against the woman, Luke?” Caine asked.
She was too flighty. Too pretty. Too aggravating. Too tempting. “She has no idea what she’s riding into. Hell, she’s probably got a picnic basket all packed for our little excursion,” he growled under his breath.
Zach just chuckled. Luke had the overwhelming urge to knock him off his horse. As if to prove his point, Josie called over, “Good morning, everyone. I’m so sorry I’m late. I had the darnedest time getting Glory’s hat to stay put.”
Shit. Luke swung up into the saddle. She’d named the nag Glory. What more proof did his point need than that?
“Welcome, hija,” Tia called, bringing the cacophony of horse and wagon closer.
Chico stomped his foot nervously. Luke patted his neck. “Easy, boy. Now is not the time to be temperamental.”
Zach’s horse started its own little dance. As if she didn’t understand the disaster she was courting with that obnoxious wagon, Josie kept coming, shyly flashing those dimples that sent his imagination teetering into areas it had no business being.
“Thank you so much for inviting me. I can’t tell you how excited I am by this opportunity.”
Luke’s cock perked right along with his aggravation. The wheel hit another bump. The pans clattered. A bucket swung, its contents grating around in its interior. Chico crow-hopped and flattened his ears. Zach’s horse snapped its head up and reared. Zach’s quick reflexes were the only thing that saved his ass from getting dumped in the dirt. “Stay back, senorita!”
“Josie,” Luke ordered. “Stop right there.”
Startled, Josie pulled back on the reins. He kneed Chico over. Josie watched him approach, her intriguing blue eyes big beneath her wide-brimmed satin, ruched hat. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit he liked her eyes on him. While there could be a certain haphazardness to her attention, when the woman focused on something, it was all out. He couldn’t help but wonder if she brought that intensity between the sheets.
A shiver raced over his skin. He liked that image entirely too much. The corner of her lips twitched. Fear or humor? It annoyed the bejesus out of him that he wanted to know which. Seems he’d done nothing but watch the woman since the moment he’d damn near tripped over her, kneeling in the dirt taking a picture of a bee on a flower, the day before Hester’s wedding. He’d known she was off-kilter from that second on, but it didn’t seem to make any difference—then or now. He couldn’t look away. Somewhere deep inside him, for some goddamn reason, it mattered if Josie was happy or sad. And that irritated the heck out of him.
Luke folded his arms over the saddle horn and stared right back at her. She cocked her head to the side and studied him.
“I’d like to take your picture like that someday.”
“Why?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “The composition is perfect.”
“Excuse me?”
She made a square of her hands, looking through them with the intensity of a hawk looking at a tasty mouse. “The way you’re sitting, with the mountains behind. And the shadows...” She shifted slightly to the left and nodded. “It would be a good picture, a very good picture.”
Glory stomped his foot. She frowned. “I don’t suppose we have time now, do we?”
He had the insane urge to say yes. “Hell no.”
She sighed. “I lose so many moments that way.”
She was an odd one for sure.
Boone raised his head and gave a light woof. From around the corner of the barn came piling six of his offspring, barking and growling and carrying on. None of them seemed to share Boone’s lazy porch hound ways. They charged in. One raced between his horse’s legs. Chico jumped and snorted. Glory tossed his head and reared up in the traces.
With a scream as ugly as his hat, he threw his head back. Luke only caught a glimpse of Josie’s terror before the horse took off with a surge of energy. The wagon went right along with it, banging and clanking in a cacophonous prelude to disaster.
Chico reared up. As soon as Luke got his hooves back on the ground, he started crow-hopping. Time slowed as Zach’s horse joined in.
This time it was Caine’s turn to say, “Shit.”
He grabbed
