shoulders stiff, she returned to the main room. “Mrs. Werner, Juanita says the ranch doesn’t belong to Rafael. Is that so?”
“No, no, she did not say that.”
“Yes, she did.”
“I tell you her English is very poor. She say it wrong.” Mrs. Werner waved her hands wildly and looked away. “Of course the ranch belongs to Rafael. You do not worry. Juanita is a silly child who thinks Rafael will marry her when she grows up. You forget what she say.”
The reassurance didn’t settle her one bit. This was not how she had expected her arrival to be. No, she needed to meet Rafael and have him straighten this out. The sooner the better. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink.
* * *
“I have to get back, or Miss O’Malley will wonder what is taking me so long.” Daniel had put Anna’s trunk in the room next to his and hurried across the courtyard to Rafael’s room. He hadn’t been certain from their mother’s look how his brother was faring, and he was relieved to discover Rafael in pain but completely lucid. They had to get through the next few days without Anna realizing he’d been shot.
“You need to meet her,” Daniel said. “You’ll have to pretend you’re well long enough to say hello.”
The bandage starkly white against his skin, Rafael groaned and rolled to the side. “Can’t.”
“She is already confused by me fetching her instead of you.” Daniel pulled his brother’s legs off the side of the bed. He’d get Rafe sitting, then get him dressed and standing.
Rafael grunted a protest.
“Just hold it together long enough to say hello.” Daniel tugged on his brother’s arm until Rafael was halfway upright.
Rafael ran a hand through hair that was matted and sticking up on one side. Had he been thrashing around?
“You look like hell.” Daniel scrutinized his brother. His stomach fell. Rafe wouldn’t fool anybody looking like he did. “Do you really think it wise for Ma to give out that you have a shoulder injury?”
The corners of Rafael’s mouth turned up for the barest second as if he’d meant to smile. “Got to give a reason...couldn’t track...the horse thieves.”
Daniel’s shoulders slumped. His brother had a reputation as a great tracker to protect. He, on the other hand, was going to have to “fail” to follow the tracks tomorrow to save them from discovery. “Wonderful. I can’t fake a fall to explain why I won’t be able to track the stagecoach robbers.”
“Not a robbery.”
“If you didn’t want people to think it a robbery, you shouldn’t have covered up your face, stopped the stage in a pinch point and pointed my rifle at the driver. If all you really wanted was to see your bride, you could have hailed them in an open spot and asked for her by name. And you dragged me into this mess. We’ll be lucky if we aren’t hanged.”
“Sorry,” muttered Rafael, which was unlike the sarcastic “You’re welcome” he usually would have shot back.
Daniel snatched a shirt out of Rafe’s wardrobe. “Try and get yourself together well enough to greet her. You can pretend to be groggy. Ma said she gave you something to sleep.”
“Wish she had.” Rafael rolled back onto the bed. His shoulder hit the pillows behind him, and he groaned. “She took away my whiskey.”
But not before he’d indulged, Daniel noted.
If Anna figured out they were the men who’d held up the stagecoach, she might very well go to the sheriff and turn them in. Speaking of her, he should probably go back to the main room, but he needed to tell Rafe that she didn’t want him to know she’d shot a man. “Rafe, she—”
A sharp rap on the door raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
“Mr. Werner, are you in there?”
Damn. Anna. Sounds didn’t carry through the thick adobe walls, but Rafael’s window to the courtyard was open to allow a cross breeze. What had she heard?
Rafael shooed him toward the door. “She can’t see...this,” he hissed, pointing at the bandage.
Daniel tossed the shirt in Rafe’s direction as he went to the door.
Anna stood on the other side, a shawl draped over her chest although the evening was warm. “Is your brother in there?” she demanded.
“Yes, I was just checking on him.” Daniel reached to take her elbow and guide her back to the main room. “You can’t have eaten already.”
Anna wrenched her arm away and darted toward the open door. “I want to see him.”
Daniel caught her around the waist and pulled her back before she could get past him. Squirming against him, she was like a kitten with claws. Heat, need and want slammed him hard. It had to be the feel of a woman against him, nothing more. He lifted and planted her in the courtyard and pulled the door shut behind him. “He’s sleeping.”
Anna scrambled away and swung around to face him. “No. He’s not. I heard you both talking. Why are you trying to hide him from me?”
“What did you hear?” Daniel asked sharply.
Anna’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer. “Something about whiskey. Is he some kind of drunkard? Is that why you and your mother won’t let me near him?”
Daniel let out a slow breath. If she thought Rafael a drinker, that was far better than thinking he had been the stagecoach shooter. “I’m afraid he’s not fit company—”
“I’ll have you know I’ve seen drunk men before.” She poked him in the chest. “And I’d like to see him.”
Her breasts rose and fell rapidly. Words deserted him with a heavy rush. He stared, knowing he was going to have to say something, but the swirling thoughts in his head were nothing he could have said out loud.
She flipped open the shawl. “Is this what you’re looking at? The second dress I’ve had ruined today.”
It took him a second to realize she was talking about the brown blotch in the center of her chest. His gaze was more drawn to her curves. Her breasts would fit perfectly in his hands. His palms even itched. No, this isn’t right.
“I’ve come clear across the country. I’ve had a very bad day. I want to meet your brother. Now.”
He dragged his gaze up to her pursed lips, only that was worse. He wanted to claim them and soothe the anger from her. “Anna.”
“What?” she retorted, then squinted at him.
He didn’t have the right to call her by her first name. “Miss O’Malley, it would be better if you saw him in the morning.” Surely Rafael could manage to be up long enough to meet her. “You are tired. He is—” Daniel struggled for the right words “—not up to meeting you tonight. Everything will be better in the morning.”
She
