With his whole mouth covering hers, it was like they were coming together as one person. She inhaled his hot breath and felt heat radiating from her own skin, where he touched her. He pulled her into him, so that her breasts pressed against his chest. His body felt so taut and firm against hers. As his lips devoured hers, Josie’s head began to spin, and her legs grew weak. Continuing to kiss her, Grey slowly lowered her to the ground.
One minute his hand slid up and down her back. The next, she felt it snake underneath her shirt. She flinched when his hand moved over her stomach and up to her breast. This was the first time a man had ever touched her. What came next? No one had ever taught her what happened between a man and a woman, though she’d seen animals mating. This was completely different. Would he expect her to stick her hand under his shirt? Finding it hard to breathe, she was seized with both desire and fear at the same time.
When he squeezed her breast, her heart hammered so hard she figured he could hear it. It was probably wrong to let him touch her this way, but it seemed so natural, and it felt good. Josie arched her neck and closed her eyes. He moaned, pulled her head back to him, and kissed her deeper.
She didn’t know all the particulars having to do with intimacy, but she wasn’t afraid of becoming physical with him. She was falling in love with Grey, but sensed if she allowed him to take her virginity, everything would change between them. What would happen after they found the gold? Would she be able to leave him and go on to San Francisco, as she’d planned? Would he leave her and go after Rusty then buy the ranch he talked about and never see her again? Or would he go with her to San Francisco and then send for Rusty, where they could all live as a family?
She couldn’t picture Grey living in a big city, and that made her wonder again if he truly cared for her. Or was she just another woman to him, someone to appease his needs before he rode on? Someone like Molly.
When he plunged both hands under her shirt and began rubbing, Josie knew she had to stop him. Until she was sure she meant something to him more than a means to cure an itch, lovemaking was out of the question. The end of the trail was a few days away. She’d rather he left her with her heart intact than to send her away broken and feeling like she’d never mattered to him.
“Grey, stop.”
The man didn’t make it easy. She pushed his hands out of her shirt, but he kept kissing her. When he finally came up for air, her lips felt bruised. She pulled back and put her hand on his chest.
“Grey, that’s enough.”
“You don’t like it?” he asked, breathing raggedly.
“That’s the trouble,” she sighed. “I like it too much.”
She jumped when he busted out laughing. “You’re a real corker, Josie. You act like you’ve never made love to a man before.”
Sitting up, she turned away in a flash, before he could see the truth in her eyes. But it was too late.
He stopped laughing, and she knew he knew. “I’m sorry, Josie,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I don’t care if you’ve never been with a man before. In fact, I’m glad of it.”
That was it? That was all he had to say? No, I love you, Josie? Or, I want you to stay with me? Or, When we find the gold, we’ll go to San Francisco together?
She tensed and gritted her teeth. Why does this man get under my skin? She drew the blanket around her body and curled herself into a ball on the cold ground.
“Josie, are we done talking about this?”
“Yes, Grey,” she snapped. “We’re done. So I’d appreciate it if you’d just shut up and let us both get some sleep.”
Chapter Twelve
Grey checked the map as they prepared to head out the following morning. “Our next destination will be the Gonzales Ranch,” he said. “See here? Your pa has drawn a box around those words, so there must have been a reason he wants you to stop there. You know anyone by the name of Gonzales?”
“No.” Josie didn’t bother to look at the map or at him. She tossed her saddlebags over the saddle horn and offered Traveler a handful of grain. She hadn’t said more than three words since they woke up. Grey figured she was embarrassed over what had happened last night. He was a bit self-conscious himself, not about kissing her and touching her, but about telling her so much about his personal life.
He wasn’t used to getting close to a woman, let alone expressing his feelings to one. But there was something about Josie that made him feel comfortable, like he could tell her anything and she’d understand. In fact, she had understood when he’d told her about Rusty and explained why he needed the gold. He hadn’t planned on spilling his past so bluntly and without an ounce of persuasion from her, but the words had poured out of him fierce as a storm over the desert. When he’d finished, he’d felt rejuvenated, same as when the parched desert blossomed after a hard rain. He was glad his reasons for needing the money were out in the open. Now maybe she’d quit bossing him so much and learn to trust him more. After all, they both had good reasons for finishing this journey, no matter how tough it got.
The night they met in the cave, he’d had only one thing on his mind, which was getting the map and going after the gold. He’d known she was a spitfire the moment she stuck her little gun into his gut and demanded he toss down his revolver. Since then, she’d somehow managed to get under his skin without doing anything except to be herself.
He’d never met a woman like her before, someone so young who could take care of herself, and also wanted to take care of others. He continued to be impressed by her tough side, but it was her softness that stirred something deep inside him. He hadn’t wanted to stop and help the sheepherder with the lambing, nor had he had the courage to help Molly and the dying man until Josie showed him that sometimes a person has to risk everything for another human being.
He snuck a glance at her as she whispered into Lightning’s ear. Ever since he’d seen her naked that day in the stream, he’d been dreaming about her at night. Last night was no exception. Underneath those filthy work pants and shirt was a luscious body that any hot-blooded man would want. Chuckling silently, he felt fortunate to have gotten a feel of her last night before she’d slapped his hands away.
When he’d kissed her after the shoot-out with the marshal, it’d been a spur-of-the-moment thing. Mostly, he’d needed to release the tension that had been building in him. But he’d felt a spark when their lips had touched. And no matter how hard he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to erase that kiss from his mind. His actions last night had not been premeditated, but kissing her again had seemed the most natural thing in the world. She’d acted like she’d enjoyed him as much as he’d enjoyed her, even when he’d put his hands on her body. When she’d made him quit, he wasn’t altogether surprised, but that didn’t change the fact that his blood had risen to boiling temperature, and his desire for her had nearly burned him alive. Stopping before they’d made love had been as hard on him as holding back a team of wild horses.
Another man might have forced himself on her, but he wasn’t that kind of man and never had been. His passion might flame hot when aroused, but Ma had taught him to respect women. It was a lesson he’d never forgotten. Josie would not be an exception, no matter how much he desired her.
He strode to his horse and stared at her over Lightning’s back. The funny thing was, while he dreamed about making love to her, he also considered her a friend. How could that be? He’d never had a woman friend before, and didn’t quite know what to make of his mixed up feelings.
Her voice startled him out of his daydreams. “Grey, I said, can I have my map back now?” She sidled next to him and held out her hand. It was the most she’d said since telling him to shut up last night. “You’ve been carrying it for days, but it is my map, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Thinking it over, he decided he didn’t need it anyway. He expected they’d ride the whole way together, but even if they got separated for some reason, the map led them north to Nambe Falls. That wouldn’t be dif
ficult to find once they reached Santa Fe. When he handed her the map, her face lit up like the morning sun. She probably thought he’d give her a rough time about wanting to keep it. She said nothing, climbed onto her mule’s back, and snuck the parchment in her saddlebag as if she were a child hiding a piece of licorice.
They spotted the sign for the Gonzales Ranch mid-afternoon. The two of them hadn’t spoken much throughout the day, even when they stopped and shared the last of his dried staples for lunch. Grey could only assume Josie was still upset about the way he’d touched her, or how he’d raised the question about the mirror. Hopefully, he’d made up for hurting her feelings when he told her she was beautiful. This morning he’d noticed she’d ripped off more of her petticoats and wrapped the mirror in the fabric and tucked it safely into her saddlebags. He was glad Molly had given the mirror to her. Josie deserved nice things.
“We haven’t gone as many miles as we normally do in a day,” he said, slowing his horse’s pace, “but I think we should stop since your pa specified it on the map. What do you think?”
“You’re asking me what I think?” Josie shook her head, acting surprised that he wanted her opinion.
“Yes, I am,” he said. “Should we stop? Do you want to?”
“I guess so. You don’t think the marshal’s behind us, do you? Have you gotten any more bad feelings?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled and my ears open. I think the marshal and his tracker have given up on us.”
“I hope you’re right. Let’s ride into this ranch and see what interesting things Pa has in store for us.”
They loped under the sign that said Gonzales Ranch and rode another mile along fenced pastures before reaching the main spread. On the west side of the property was a large barn and corral, where a dozen Vaqueros and ranch hands stood at the round pen watching a cowboy break a colt. There was a lot of cheering and whistling going on, and some laughing when the cowboy got bucked off.
Next to the barn stood a long bunkhouse and a stone well. Parked inside a three-sided building were a buckboard wagon and a carriage. Stretching out as far as the eye could see were acres of fenced-in land, where dozens of horses and donkeys grazed peacefully. And in the distance, there appeared to be a big pond—unless it was a mirage. Grey couldn’t be sure since the heat was getting to his head.
He saw Josie’s eyes grow wide as her gaze roamed around the property. She slid off of Traveler, stretched her arms and said, “This is quite a place.” She removed her hat and hung it over the saddle horn and then slicked back her flyaway hair as best as she could. “I want to look presentable when we meet Mr. Gonzales.”
“You do.” Grey kept his Stetson on, but brushed the dust off his pants after dismounting.
They tied the animals to a hitching rail in front of an adobe wall, which ran the entire length of the home, and walked through a turquoise painted gate along a terracotta-tiled path, which passed through a placita. A bubbling Spanish-style fountain was surrounded by a garden of rocks, agave, yarrow, oat grass, Mexican feather grass, and various cacti.
Josie gasped, turned in circles, and gazed in awe. “It’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen any place like it.”
Nodding toward the house, he grinned and said, “If you like this garden, take a look at that.” The one-level Spanish colonial rancho had stout adobe walls, a flat roof, rounded ends of log vigas protruding from the sides, deep windows, and a portal facing the placita.
“This isn’t just a ranch, Grey. It’s a hacienda,” Josie gushed.
He had to agree. The place was magnificent. The front door was turquoise like the gate. Lifting the brass knocker, he pounded it three times, wondering how Leroy Hart was associated with the people who lived here. A Mexican woman dressed in a maid’s outfit answered the door.
“Si, Señor, may I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. My name is Grey Paladin, and this is Josephine Hart. Her pa was Leroy Hart.” He waited for a response from the maid, but she didn’t give him any reason to think she’d known the man. “Would it be possible for us to speak with the owner of this rancho?” he asked.
“Si. Please come in and wait here.”
“Thank you.”
As they stepped over the threshold, Grey changed his mind and removed his hat. He peered around at the luxury surrounding them in the entry as well as in the room beyond—high ceilings, exposed peeled log vigas, terracotta-washed walls, a monumental fireplace, stately antiques, flowers in glass vases, colorful art on the walls, and warm textiles in a variety of colors covering the furniture.
“I can’t imagine how my pa knew Mr. Gonzales,” Josie wondered out loud. She’d read Grey’s mind.
“Maybe he worked here for a while,” he suggested.
“Pa a cowhand? That’s a joke. He never wanted to work that hard.”
Grey was about to agree when a Mexican woman made her appearance from the back of the house. Her black hair was parted in the middle and worn low on her head in a traditional chignon bun. She looked elegant in an aqua green skirt and white blouse, which was embroidered along the neckline with flowers and winding vines. Her dark eyebrows were heavy. She wore exquisite silver and turquoise jewelry around her neck and wrists, and she smiled broadly as she approached and extended her hand.
Grey considered her attractive, for a woman her age, which he guessed to be in the late thirties. She nodded at him formally and then her gaze moved swiftly to Josie and stuck. She greeted her as if she were a long lost friend. “Josephine. I’m so pleased to finally meet you. I’m Juanita Gonzales. Welcome to my home, my dear.” The woman placed her hands on Josie’s arms and kissed each of her cheeks.
Josie stood as still as a statue. It was obvious she was confused. This woman, Mrs. Gonzales, welcomed her like a long-lost friend. Josie’s mouth seemed to be frozen shut, so Grey stuck his hand out to shake with their hostess. “Señora Gonzales, I’m Grey Paladin, Miss Hart’s friend.”
“Pleased to meet you.” The lady’s gaze remained glued to Josie.
Finally, Josie’s lips thawed and she spoke. “How did you know my name, ma’am?”
“I knew your father, Leroy. He talked so much about you I would have known you anywhere.”
“What? How?”
“Leroy told me you’d be coming this way soon. I’ve been expecting you. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Ma’am?” Grey began. “Just how is it you knew Josie’s pa?”
Juanita swept them both down the hall with an arc of her hand. “Come in and sit down and we’ll talk. Marcella!” she called.
“Si, Señora?” The maid rushed into the room.
“Please prepare tea for our guests. Or are you a coffee drinker, Mr. Paladin? We have both.” Her shapely eyebrow arched, and her thick eyelashes fluttered.
“Coffee would satisfy me, thank you.”
“Tea for you, Josephine?” Juanita offered the two of them a seat on a long couch with a nod of her head.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll try some tea. It’ll be a nice change from the mud we’ve been drinking on the trail. Thank you, Señora Gonzales.”
The woman dismissed the maid with a gentle wave of her hand. “Bring some cookies, too. Josephine and Mr. Paladin look famished. Thank you, Marcella.” She folded her skirt under her and sat in a chair across from the couple and said, “Call me Juanita, both of you. Señora Gonzales is much too formal. Anyway, I’m not that old.”
“Is there a Señor Gonzales?” Grey asked with his usual directness.
She shook her head. “No. He was killed many years ago on a cattle drive to Texas. After that, I sold all those filthy creatures and began to raise horses and donkeys. They are beautiful animals, friendlier, they smell better, and they earn me more money.”
“Are you the sole owner of this ranch?” Josie asked, clearly impressed by the Mexican woman’s elegance and the opulent surroundings.
She nodded. “Si, I am. My husband had no other family.”
&
nbsp; “All of this is yours alone? The entire hacienda?”
When Juanita grinned, a perfect row of white teeth gleamed. “You seem surprised that a woman can manage an empire such as this rancho on her own.”
“I am, to be honest with you,” Josie answered. “You must be a very smart lady.”
She laughed. “I don’t know about that. It wasn’t very smart of me to marry a man who had such an adventurous spirit that he got himself killed six months after our wedding. Would you agree?”
Josie bent her head and then offered a tentative smile. “I guess so. Or maybe it was just bad luck,” she added quickly.
Grey had not seen Josie this way, shy and awestruck. Wanting to get back to his original question, he cleared his throat. “Señora …I mean, Juanita. How did you say you knew Leroy Hart?”
Just then the maid delivered the tea and coffee and some sweets. After drinks had been poured and cookies passed around, she finally answered his question.
“I knew Leroy before I met my husband. I was very young and worked in a cantina in Old Mexico back then.” She looked at Josie again, addressing her. “I don’t remember why your father was in Mexico. I suppose he was looking for work or fun, or both.” She laughed, and the sound was like bells tinkling. “Anyway,” she continued, “after he finished the enchiladas I served him one night, he asked me to dance. An old blind man was sitting in the corner strumming a guitar. At first, I said no. I was busy working, and I was shy at the time. But your father was very persuasive. Before long, he was swinging me around the cantina, and we were laughing and everyone was singing. Leroy had such a way of cheering up a place.”
Grey doubted Juanita was referring to the same Leroy Hart he’d known in White Oaks. That man was nothing but a scoundrel, though he did have a way with storytelling. Still, he couldn’t imagine him sweeping any woman off her feet, let alone the lovely senorita Juanita must have been when she was younger.
“Leroy and I became fast friends that night,” she said. “He came to see me often when he traveled to Old Mexico. I thought he might ask me to marry him, but I was wrong. He never did.”
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