The Danger Within

by Valerie Hansen

  “You have a creative mind. I’m analytical. Those aren’t faults, they’re differences in the way we think.”

  Layla smiled. “Thanks. I needed that.”

  “You’re welcome. Am I forgiven?”

  “For what? You leveled with me. You told me the truth. I can hardly ask for more.”

  “But you’d like to?”

  Her grin widened, her eyes sparkled. “You said you knew me pretty well already. What do you think?”

  Michael laughed. “I think it’s time we made tracks for Fiona’s. You need to be distracted.”

  Though Layla joined in his laughter as she accompanied him to his truck, she knew nothing could distract her from the confusion that had settled in her heart. She wasn’t fretting about the danger they might face or remembering the narrow escapes they’d already had. Her bewilderment went far deeper. It was based in the feelings she’d kept denying. And those feelings were tangled up with the vision she kept having of becoming a permanent part of Michael Vance’s life.

  That was nothing but wishful thinking, of course. No matter how close their trials had brought them, the outside stimulus was temporary. The best she could hope for was a good letter of reference and perhaps a lingering friendship, a place to stop and visit the next time she passed through this part of Colorado.

  Always before, that tenuous connection to others had been more than enough to satisfy Layla. Now, the idea of saying goodbye to Michael and his enormous extended family made her heart ache. What was wrong with her?

  She gritted her teeth. Okay, so she had stupidly allowed herself to fall in love with the wrong man. That mistake she could accept without question. But what about the remainder of her emotional conflict? It involved other people who were part of Michael’s life, people whose presence had blessed her and continued to do so. How had that happened?

  More importantly, how was she going to keep them at arm’s length, where they belonged, when they were already so entrenched in her heart of hearts that she was beginning to think of them as her own family?

  Chapter Ten

  By the time Michael took Layla to Fiona’s, as he’d promised, it was after 8:00 p.m.

  Layla seemed amazed that the Stagecoach Café was so busy. “You should be glad you live in a place where you can eat out this late,” she remarked. “Some of the little towns I’ve visited roll up their sidewalks early, especially on Sunday.”

  “I guess there are advantages to a big city. I wouldn’t want to actually live here, though.”

  “Neither would I.”

  Her statement saddened him. No matter how often he heard her affirm her wanderlust, it still gave him a jolt.

  “So, where do you plan to go after you leave Cripple Creek?” he asked.

  Layla shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll head back down south. The Ozarks are pretty in the spring.”

  “So are the Rockies,” Michael said. “We’ll have wildflowers poking through the snow soon.”

  “Do you have dogwood trees?”

  “I don’t think so. Sorry.”

  “They grow wild in the Ozarks, with big, white flowers that bloom before the forest leafs out, so that’s all you see. They’re really beautiful.”

  He had to stop himself from offering to plant a grove of dogwoods just for her. He’d already said plenty when he’d carelessly let slip how much he cared about her. There was no use making things worse. Honesty might be the best policy but it could also be plenty embarrassing. Especially if a guy was stupid enough to mention his feelings to a woman who kept making it clear she didn’t intend to stick around any longer than necessary.

  Michael led the way to an unoccupied booth in the rear of the café and slid into the seat opposite Layla before he said, “I suppose I’d better call around tomorrow and see about getting your truck repaired.”

  “I suppose so.” She spread her napkin across her lap and folded her hands. “I hope it’s not beyond fixing. That old truck and I’ve had some great times together.”

  “And Smokey?”

  “Yes, Smokey, too. Although he and I haven’t been traveling companions for very long.” She smiled wistfully. “I found him at a rest stop in Texas. After I fed him and doctored his sore feet, I stayed in the area for a few weeks, helping out at a local veterinary clinic, while I advertised for his owner. By that time, he and I had really bonded.”

  “Was that when he ate the sleeves from your jacket?”

  Layla laughed. “Yes. Lucky for us, nobody answered my ads and I got to keep him.”

  “Is that how you support yourself? Working wherever you land?”

  “Mostly. My needs are simple. I like having the chance to see the sights and help people and animals at the same time.” She smiled across at him. “Like here. If I hadn’t been passing through, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to help you track down what was killing your cattle.”

  “That’s true.” Had her hands been resting on the table, Michael would have reached for one of them. “I hope I’ve thanked you sufficiently.”

  “You have. And I hope my cooking hasn’t been too big a disappointment. I told you I was a granola and yogurt eater when we met.”

  “That you did.” He hailed a passing waitress. “Is Fiona in tonight?”

  “No, sir,” the young woman said. “She went home after lunch. I’ll be back to take your orders in a jiffy.”

  “No hurry,” Michael said. “We’re not in any rush.”

  Settling back against the booth he studied his companion. Layla looked as lovely as ever, yet there was unspoken concern in her expression. “You okay?”

  “I was just thinking.”

  “Uh-oh.” He was pleased to see his teasing bring a smile.

  “Cut it out, cowboy. I’m serious.”

  “About what?”

  “Something your pastor said. I’ve been a Christian since I was twelve years old, but he made me feel as if I’m still missing something.”

  “Like what?”

  Layla snickered wryly. “Hey, if I knew that, I wouldn’t have to try so hard to figure things out.”

  “Maybe you should talk to Gabriel. He’s a perceptive guy. He’s helped me a lot.”

  “You?” She scowled. “About what? You’ve already got it together.”

  “Now, maybe. After Tammy jilted me I was a mess. It was Fiona who finally shamed me into going for counseling. I was sure I could handle things myself. Bless her heart, Fiona saw that I couldn’t.”

  “I suppose your mother and sister kept insisting everything had happened for the best.”

  “Exactly. Nobody understood how miserable I was. Not even Ken.”

  “Who’s Ken? Another cousin?”

  Michael shook his head. “No. Ken’s my baby brother. Holly’s twin.”

  “You’re kidding! Why hasn’t anybody mentioned him?”

  “I don’t know. He’s the one in the air force, so he doesn’t really get that involved in the rest of our lives.”

  “That’s too bad. My brother is kind of the same way.”

  A lot of things are too bad, Michael mused.

  Letting Layla go promised to be the hardest thing he’d had to do in a long, long time. He only hoped he’d be able to bid her farewell without making her feel guilty about leaving. She was a free spirit. He wasn’t going to try to cage her. That would destroy everything about her that was so special.

  Yeah, he told himself cynically. It was better to bear the burden himself than to let on how desperately he wanted her to stay at the Double V. It was the right thing to do, for her sake, but it was getting harder and harder to accept as inevitable.

  If Layla could have said she was merely confused in the days that followed, she’d have been more than satisfied. As it was, she was so perplexed she viewed normal daily puzzlement as a state of mind to be envied.

  Part of the problem was her lack of options. There was no way she could get back to Colorado Springs on her own to talk to Reverend Dawson unless she as
ked Michael to take her, and that was out, period. Whatever was bothering her was at least partly Michael’s fault. It had to be. She just wasn’t ready to admit it, especially not to him.

  Before she’d met the enigmatic rancher she was happy. Content. Satisfied with her life and sure her faith was complete. Now, all that had changed. Thoughts of returning to her wandering ways no longer kindled enthusiasm and a sense of adventure the way they once had. Like it or not, she didn’t want to leave the Double V—or its owner.

  Disgusted with herself, Layla finished washing up after breakfast, dressed warmly and made her way to the barn where the horses were stabled.

  Norberto was working there and nodded politely as she entered. “Buenos dias, señorita.”

  “Good morning,” Layla said with a smile. “I’m glad you’re here. Which horse do you recommend I ride?”

  He shrugged. “What did Señor Vance say?”

  “He just told me I could ride any time I wanted. He didn’t warn about any troublesome horses.” She approached the stall where the gray, Arab-cross mare was housed. “How about this one? Is she pretty gentle?”

  “Si.”

  The wiry, older man’s hesitation bothered her enough to prompt more questions. “Then what’s the matter? She looks sound. Is there some reason I shouldn’t take her out?”

  The ranch manager hesitated. “I don’t know, señorita—”

  “You do, too, know,” Layla countered, “so stop pretending. I don’t buy that laid-back, unconcerned attitude from your boss and I’m not about to believe it from you, either. What’s wrong with this horse?”

  Sobering, Norberto leaned on the handle of his pitchfork and answered slowly. “Señor Vance bought her for his other lady. The one who ran away. Nobody else has ridden her, not since…”

  “Since Tammy split?” Layla made a face. “What a waste of a good mount. The poor mare is probably so barn-sour she won’t do anything for me.”

  “We have other horses. Nice ones. Let me show you.”

  Layla had already begun stroking the mare’s velvety nose, mumbling to her. She paused long enough to turn to Norberto. “Bring me a saddle and bridle. I’ll brush her and clean her feet so she’s used to me, then I’ll take her out and work her. It’ll be good for both of us.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The ranch manager’s leathery face crinkled in a smile so broad it lifted the ends of his mustache. “It will be good for Señor Vance, too, I think.”

  Layla returned the grin and gave him a reassuring nod. “I agree, Norberto. This horse isn’t the only critter on the Double V who needs a little attitude adjustment.”

  “She went where?” Michael was shouting.

  “Riding, boss. She said you gave her permission.”

  “I did. I just never dreamed she’d take a horse out alone. Not when we’re still trying to figure out who’s been causing all the trouble around here.” He grabbed a bridle off a nearby peg and headed for the Appaloosa’s stall. “Get my saddle. And the walkie-talkies. I want you listening, in case we need to call for more help.”

  Norberto did as he was told. “She rides well, boss. Like she is part of the mare. I would not worry.”

  “Well, I do. Which way did she go?” Michael had slipped the bit in the big gelding’s mouth and was buckling the leather strap at its cheek.

  “South, I think. You should be able to follow her tracks. There is a lot of snow left.”

  Michael’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed. The Appaloosa was beginning to shift and prance as it sensed his nervousness. He took a deep, settling breath and worked on getting his temper under control.

  “I’ll find her,” Michael vowed. He gave the saddle girth one final tug and tucked the loose end of the strap through the ring to secure it before letting down the stirrup.

  As he swung into the saddle he saw Norberto making the sign of the cross.

  “Good idea,” Michael said. “And if my mother calls, tell her I’ve gone out to check the herd.”

  “You don’t want her to know what’s going on?”

  “No, not yet. There’ll be plenty of time for Mom to worry if this turns sour on me.” He reined the gelding toward the open barn door and pushed his hat lower on his forehead to keep it in place. “Listen to your radio. I’ll call if I find Layla.”

  Breaking into the open and starting to canter, Michael added, “When I find her.”

  That thought hit him like a literal punch in the stomach. He would find her. He had to. The alternative was unthinkable.

  Layla was delighted at the progress she and the mare, whom she’d named “Fatima,” were making. A gentle hand on the reins or a touch of her heels was all it now took to elicit a suitable response. The horses on which she’d learned to ride were nothing like this fine mount. She didn’t wonder why Michael had chosen Fatima for Tammy. The question was, why had he left such a magnificent horse to languish in the barn? It certainly wasn’t the mare’s fault that Tammy had turned out to be disloyal. And if the sight of the horse had bothered him that much, why hadn’t he sold or traded her?

  Leaning forward in the saddle, Layla patted Fatima’s elegantly arched neck. Arabians were a breed that always reminded her of a prancing carousel steed, full of grace and fluid beauty with a touch of inherent excitement.

  Though Layla was familiar with the overall lay of the land, she took pains to keep an eye on Pike’s Peak so she’d be certain of her direction in relation to the Double V. Peace lay across the high country like the blanket of fluffy snow that wrapped the hills, giving Layla the respite she craved. There was something soothing about the steady, rocking cadence of a horse’s gait, the creaking leather of the saddle beneath her.

  “And the presence of God in all nature,” Layla added aloud. Michael understood that feeling as well as she did. It was one of the things she liked about him.

  She stretched to loosen some of the knots in her neck and shoulders while she pictured her boss. There was actually a lot to like about Michael Vance, starting with his kind eyes and the gentleness she’d discovered hidden beneath his facade. He played the part of a crusty, grumpy rancher with total believability until you got to know him. Then, it was a different story.

  Clouds obscured the sun. Layla was so engrossed in her assessment of Michael she barely noticed, other than to shiver when deprived of the sun’s warmth.

  Suddenly, Fatima paused, shifted into a sideways, prancing gait and looked back. Condensation blew from the mare’s nostrils; it’s upper lip vibrated with a soft, nickering call.

  “What is it, girl?”

  Pivoting to better follow the mare’s line of sight, she saw an unidentifiable horseman approaching at full gallop.

  Layla gave a quick, light tug on the reins. “Whoa. Easy, girl, easy.”

  The more she tried to calm the nervously prancing animal, the more agitated it became. Finally, she heeded the horse’s instinctive urge to escape, dug the soft heels of her moccasins into its sides and gave it its head.

  Fatima leaped into action and took off, reminding Layla of the flight of a hapless heroine in an old Western movie. She couldn’t help wondering if that was exactly what was going on. Leaning into the wind, she matched the horse’s cadence till they were in perfect sync.

  Her heart was pounding like the beating hooves beneath her. Gasps of air whooshing from both Layla and the mare made visible clouds of condensation in the icy air. She hunched lower over the saddle horn and hung on with one hand, lest the galloping Arabian make an unexpected course correction and unseat her.

  Finally, she chanced a peek over her shoulder. The other rider was rapidly gaining ground!

  Michael couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d no sooner spotted Layla than she’d taken off like a shot. What could have gotten into her? Was the mare so unused to being ridden that she’d bolted, taking Layla along for the wild ride?

  More concerned than ever, he urged the Appaloosa ahead. The little Arab mare might be faster, stride for stride, but his mount had a
definite size advantage.

  Michael knew the lay of the land, too. What looked like relatively flat terrain was actually a gradual upslope. At this elevation, the stress on their horses would be greatly magnified. Even if he didn’t manage to overtake Layla right away, she’d soon be slowing down. It was inevitable.

  Hoping she could hear him over the sounds of rushing wind and galloping hooves, he shouted, “Layla, stop! It’s me, Michael.”

  The gray mare dropped into a trot, then a walk. Relieved, Michael continued his rapid advance till the horses were nearly head-to-head. Furious, he leaned to one side, closed his fist around the mare’s reins just below her bit and held tight.

  “What were you trying to do,” he shouted, “kill this horse?”

  “Of course not!” She glared at him. “What were you trying to do, scare me to death?”

  “You’re the one who rode out here alone, in spite of my warnings. If you were scared, you deserved it.”

  “Oh, thanks a heap. I suppose you’re going to tell me again that the only place I’ll be safe is under your thumb. Why don’t you just lock me up and be done with it?”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Michael knew he shouldn’t be yelling at her but he’d been so worried he was barely rational. Layla might not realize how unforgiving the open range could be, but he knew. More than one cow had frozen to death within sight of food and shelter. If his blond companion had been bucked off and had had to walk home, she could have succumbed to hypothermia long before she reached safety. The idea of anything bad happening to this stubborn woman was gut-wrenching.

  He’d obviously alienated her. Well, tough. She was the one who’d pulled the bonehead stunt and risked her life unnecessarily, not him.

  Starting to calm down, he released his hold on the mare’s reins, took a deep breath and tried to sound nonchalant. “Where were you headed?”