a lot of the new white settlers looked down on people of Spanish descent, but they did. He would have to go get Miss O’Malley. And Rafe was right; it had taken them so long to get back, he’d be late.
“Did they see your horses?” asked Madre. “You will have to get rid of them. Shoot them.”
A shudder ran down Daniel’s back.
He looked out at the winded animals that had galloped their hearts out getting them home. His mount bore a white blaze on its forehead and the single stocking on its back leg made it identifiable, and even though Rafael’s horse was a solid dun, the color was unusual enough to stand out. “I’m not shooting the horses.”
“Then you will get your brother hanged over a misunderstanding.” Madre glared at him. “You will shoot the horses.”
“Because that wouldn’t be a dead giveaway that we were involved,” muttered Daniel. She couldn’t be serious.
“You will do as I say,” Madre hissed.
“Ma,” Rafael protested on a puff of air. His voice was too faint. Madre turned her attention back to her favorite son.
“We just need to take care of Rafe.” Daniel steered his brother through the door, bearing most of Rafael’s weight.
“You still have to get rid of the horses,” she said.
Madre was right. The horses had to go, but he wasn’t shooting the poor animals.
“I’ll set them loose in the hills. I’ll tell the sheriff and your—” Daniel found himself unable to say bride for some strange reason “—your Miss O’Malley that the horses were stolen overnight, and you’re out tracking the horse thieves. That’ll explain why I’m picking her up and provide cover if anyone recognized our horses.”
“Good thinking,” Rafael murmured.
They passed through the long front section of the house into the open courtyard. “Get him patched up enough to hide his injury. Plus Miss O’Malley will need her own room.”
“But you were to go to the priest and marry her before leaving town,” said Madre.
“Can’t hide...gunshot from...a wife,” huffed Rafael.
Madre opened her mouth to say something.
“Open his door and get his bed ready, Madre,” Daniel said.
She threw back her shoulders and glared at him. She would hate that he was ordering her around, but he didn’t have time to coax cooperation out of her. Instead, he poked Rafael, so he’d prod her. Rafe had much better luck getting their mother to do things.
“Please, Ma.” Rafe slumped against his brother.
They staggered across the courtyard toward Rafe’s room.
Pressing her lips together, she hurried ahead to open Rafael’s door and yanked down the covers on the freshly made bed.
“Damn, this messes...up...every...thing.”
Daniel leaned close to his brother. “You’ll just have to wait until you’re healed to marry her. Tell her you’re giving her a chance to get to know you before...” Daniel’s ears heated as he thought of his brother bedding the pretty redhead. Not that women ever seemed to require a long acquaintance with Rafael before they were willing to share intimacies with him. In fact, they rarely even noticed anyone else in the room once Rafael flashed his smile at them. Although, neither of them had a lot of experience with respectable women. “After all, she’s been raised to expect courting.”
Anna wasn’t the kind of fancy piece men traveled to San Francisco or into Mexico to find. She was a rarity in California: a respectable unmarried woman. Even back when the rancheros had gotten together for regular fiestas and the daughters of the other ranch owners were there, they’d gravitated toward Rafael and all but ignored Daniel.
“But...” Rafael frowned.
“With Madre in the house, there is no impropriety.”
Rafael lowered his eyelids in an almost sleepy look.
Daniel wanted to kick him for even thinking about seducing his future wife. He shook his head at the odd spurt of jealousy.
Daniel got Rafael on the bed and backed toward the door. “You got this, Ma?”
“Daniel, you stay here and help,” ordered Madre.
“He needs t’ go.” Rafael insisted. “Can’t let it get any later.”
* * *
The light grew murky as Daniel neared the edge of town. He’d run the horses as much as he could but had had to slow them to a walk rather than look as if he was in a crazed hurry.
First he’d pick up Anna, then head to the sheriff’s, report the horses stolen and determine what the sheriff knew. Really, though, the idea of a rancher with one of the biggest spreads around stopping a stagecoach was ludicrous and the best protection they had against the law putting two and two together.
He tried to slow his breathing. If she recognized him from that moment when they’d looked at each other, he didn’t know what he’d do.
He turned onto the street with the stage office. In the gloom, a woman in white instead of green sat on the bench. A broad-brimmed hat with flowers covered her hair so he couldn’t see if it was red. Still his heart thundered in his chest. He just knew. It was Anna.
He drew closer and pulled the horses to a stop in front of her. The minute he saw her face, he couldn’t look away. His muscles tense, he waited for a glimmer of recognition.
She stood up, her gloved hands twisting in front of her. “Mr. Werner?”
“Yes.” Belatedly, he realized he couldn’t know her beyond her photograph. “You’re prettier than your picture.” What a stupid thing to say. “Miss O’Malley.”
She inclined her head, blocking his view with the wide straw brim of her hat. Then she met his eyes.
He tightened his hold on the reins, waiting for her to recognize him. Her head tilted.
She heaved a deep breath that made her chest rise and fall under her white gown. “I was beginning to think you’d never come.”
He dragged his eyes away from the lace over the material that covered her chest, but in reality added an extra layer. Forming words with his suddenly too thick tongue he said, “There was a bit of trouble back on the ranch.”
His throat clogged, and he had to clear it. He had to get down out of the wagon before she started to wonder what was wrong with him. Forcing his rigid body to move normally, he set the brake and wrapped the reins around the handle.
“It has been a trying day,” she said in a small voice. “When are we going to the ranch?”
She couldn’t be the one who shot Rafael. She’d have trouble swatting a fly. He swallowed a deep breath. The lies he’d rehearsed on the way into town threatened
