by Lyn Horner
But those reservations were critical. First, she feared what he might do to wring his version of the truth out of her, for he’d made clear he still didn’t believe her reason for seeking him out. Would he physically hurt her to make her say what he wanted to hear? Again, she recalled his efforts to spare her pain during the trek up the mountain and his rescue of her from Manuel’s clutches. After all that, she found it hard to believe he’d stoop to torturing her. But he was a hard man, obviously determined to keep his mountain stronghold a secret and carry out his duty as a Guardian. Who knew what he might resort to in the end?
Second and most important, there was her mission to keep in mind, her promise to Lara Flewellen that she would bring Gabriel Valdez back to Arizona. The urgency of her task wasn’t lessened by her attraction to the handsome Colombian. Lara needed him to join her and the other Guardians in order to defeat their enemies the Hellhounds. How to convince Gabriel of that and earn his trust was the problem.
Like a blaze of light, the thought flashed across her mind that maybe she could use sex to coax him into trusting her. After the way he’d kissed her back moments ago, nearly stealing her sanity with his talented tongue, she knew beyond doubt that he wanted her. Just as she wanted him, she conceded, catching her breath at the jolt of desire that tightened her lower belly. Why not use their mutual attraction to accomplish her goal?
No, the idea was repulsive. She didn’t have the stomach for that kind of thing. There must be another way to win him over. All she had to do was find it, she told herself, rolling onto her side. Besides, he’d probably take what she offered and still demand she tell him what he believed to be the truth.
CHAPTER SIX
Gabriel crawled out of his bedroll at the break of dawn. The chilly air raised gooseflesh on his bare skin. Groggy from too little sleep, he quickly donned a shirt and his boots, raked back his hair and walked quietly outside to relieve himself in the stunted bushes behind the little house. He’d considered using the crude lavatory inside but hadn’t wanted to wake Josie.
Let her sleep, he thought, recalling her exhaustion at dinner last night. He knew how she’d felt. After lying awake much of the night longing to make love to the woman, he was drained of energy, but that must not stop him from executing the plan he’d devised. It was time to strike at his enemies, the drug smugglers, again. In so doing, he would remove himself from the temptress he’d allowed to invade his life. With this in mind, he strode to the barracón – the bunkhouse — to wake the men and speak with Javier.
When he returned to the foreman’s house, he heard Josie moving around in her room. Needing coffee, he added wood to the stove and lit a fresh fire. Then he poured water into an old fashioned enameled coffee pot from the bucket he’d filled last night at the fresh water spring he and his men depended on. Adding a heaping handful of ground coffee, he set the pot to boil on the stove.
He was sitting at the table sipping a steaming cup of strong brew when Josie walked up the hall. She paused at the front room entrance and met his gaze, hands stuffed in the pockets of her fade blue jeans. She wore a wine-colored turtleneck shirt that hugged her form, complimenting her copper-gold skin, and had tied back her hair.
“Morning,” she said with a hesitant smile.
He nodded and gestured with his mug toward the stove. “There is coffee.”
“Thanks.” She stepped around the table and opened the cupboard. Reaching for a mug on the top shelf, she stretched up on her tiptoes, giving him a tantalizing view of her heart-shaped bottom tightly molded by her jeans. Vividly imagining how those gorgeous, plump cheeks would fill his hands, he felt his groin tighten. Cursing under his breath, he hastily looked away.
“What did you say?” she asked, crossing to the stove to fill her mug.
“Nothing,” he snapped. Refusing to glance her way, he gulped a hefty mouthful of hot coffee, practically scalding his throat.
She set her mug on the table across from him. “If you have some eggs, I’ll fry them for us.”
He scowled at her in irritation. “Did you see any chickens running around outside?”
Her mouth dropped open and she blinked fast. “No, I didn’t, but we had chicken soup for supper last night.”
“The meat came from a can, as do most of our foodstuffs. We keep no livestock other than the horses and mules. And most of their feed must be packed in just as our food supplies are.”
A blush rushed up her throat, reddening even her bruised, purplish cheek. “How stupid of me,” she snapped. “I should have realized that, but I’m new to these parts. And I don’t know how kidnappers do things.” Wearing a furious look, she marched toward the front door. Before she got there, it opened, bringing her up short as Javier walked in carrying a cloth-covered wooden tray.
“Buenos días,” he greeted with a gap-toothed grin. In the dead silence, he halted, grin vanishing as he glanced back and forth between Gabriel and Josie, who stood with hands fisted at her sides and jaw set in an angry line.
“Uh, I have your breakfast,” Javier said uncertainly in Spanish. “You said we should eat before we –”
“Put it down,” Gabriel interrupted, motioning him to set the tray on the table. He waited for his brawny lieutenant to deposit his burden and leave, giving the angry woman a wide birth. Then, regretting his sarcastic remark to Josie – a result of his suppressed desire for her – he rose and walked over to her, meeting a furious dark glare. He splayed a hand over his heart and ate crow, as he’d heard it called during his days at Berkley.
“I am sorry for my rudeness. Please forgive me and come eat.”
She eyed him skeptically for a moment then shrugged. Without a word, she went and sat at the table.
Gabriel grabbed plates and forks for them and removed the cloth covering from the breakfast tray, revealing a bowl of chopped up chicken and potatoes, leftovers from last night, mixed with red beans. This was accompanied by a plate piled high witharepas, traditional Colombian corn cakes.
“Help yourself,” he said, taking his place across from Josie.“I think you will like the arepas.” He pointed at the corn cakes.“Paola makes them fresh each day. In my country they are what tortillas are to Mexicans. That is, we eat them with everything.”
She aimed a cool glance at him, took one of the cakes and spooned a small portion of the chicken-potato-bean mixture onto her plate. Biting into the cake, she chewed and nodded approval.“I had arepas in some Calirestaurants, but they weren’t as good as this.”
Filling his plate, Gabriel smiled.“You should tell Paola that. She would be happy to hear it.”
“I will when I take my laundry to her. By the way, where do she and Javier stay? Not in the bunkhouse with the other men, do they?”
“There is an extension off the back of the bunkhouse, as you call it,” he explained between mouthfuls. “Just a small room, but it serves the couple’s needs.”
Frowning, she said critically, “Seems like you could have let them have this house since you don’t have a wife.” Her eyes widened. “You don’t, do you?”
“Don’t I?” He cocked an eyebrow, letting her wonder while he bit off half of his secondarepa,chewed and swallowed. He shouldn’t tease her but couldn’t resist. Seeing storm clouds gather in her expression, he grinned.“No, I am not married. Are you?”
“Of course not! Do you think I’d have thrown myself at you last night if I was?” Her voice rang with indignation.
He studied her for a moment.“No, I think not, or you would not be so offended. Perhaps I should be offended because you asked me the same question, sí?” He watched her bite her lip and look down, shielding her eyes from his gaze. ”But never mind. I assumed if you had a husband, he would allow you to go chasing after another man such as me. If I were he I would want you in my bed every night.” The second the words flew from his tongue, he wanted to call them back.
She choked and coughed, clapped a hand over her mouth and stared at him, clearly shocked. When she could speak, she
huffed,“Well, thank God you’re not my husband and you never will be.”
“Quite right.” Angry at himself and her, he dropped his fork on his half empty plate, shoved back his chair and stood.“I will be leaving in a short while with most of the men. We have a mission to carry out.”
Her eyes widened in alarm.“How long will you be gone?” she asked, jumping to her feet.
“A few days, perhaps a week. You need not be afraid. Two men will stay to guard the canyon and protect you and Paola.”
“And to make sure I don’t try to escape,” she snapped, crossing her arms.
He inclined his head slightly.“That is one of their duties.”
“But I … I have a mission too. Have you forgotten?”
He scowled.“I have forgotten nothing. We have much to discuss, but it must wait until I return.” Giving her a crooked smile, he added,“This will give you time to think over your story. Use it wisely, tigresa.”
Her lips compressed into a stubborn line. Longing to soften those lips with a kiss or shake some sense into her, he wasn’t sure which, he grabbed his jacket and left before he did something stupid. She preyed on his mind as he strode to the corral, where several of his men were saddling their mounts.
At his approach, Cezar lifted his head. “Buenos dias, my friend,” he said as the bay trotted over to greet him. “How are you this fine day? Better than me, I hope.” He scratched the horse’s forehead and rubbed his muzzle, chuckling when Cezar snuffled and butted him affectionately.
“Looking for a treat, are you? Sorry, I do not have anything for you. We must prepare for a journey.” With that, he lifted his gear off the rock fence and began saddling the horse. He was tightening the cinch when Javier strolled over leading his mount.
“How is the señorita?” he worriedly asked. “You did not have to beat her too hard to make her obey, did you?”
Gabriel gave a wry twist of his lips. “No, she is fine, only angry with me again.”
“Women!” Javier chuckled. “They are always cross about something.”
“So it seems.” Cutting off any more discussion on the subject, Gabriel gave the order to mount up. As he stepped into the saddle, he glanced at the foreman’s house and saw Josie standing on the porch watching him, hugging herself against the cold. Bothered by her rather forlorn appearance, he frowned and forced himself to ignore her as he led his men away.He needed to concentrate on the raid he was leading them into, not let a woman distract him.
*
Jose dejectedly watched Gabriel and the others ride out. After his kindness to her last night, she’d hoped he might change his mind, believe her story and accompany her to meet Lara and the other Guardians. Now she wondered if that would ever happen. She also wondered if the way she’d thrown herself at him after her nightmare had something to do with him leaving so suddenly.
Later that morning, tired of moping around the house, Josie wadded her dirty clothes into a bundle and trod to the bunkhouse. Along the way, she spotted a young man squatting near the trail leading into the canyon with a rifle across his lap. He rose quickly, touched his hat and gave her a bashful smile. Nodding to him, she stepped onto the bunkhouse porch and cracked open the door.
“Paola? Are you there?” she called. Getting no response, she repeated the question with the same result. She walked inside and glanced around the long room, looking for some sign of Javier’s wife but seeing none. Then she heard wood creak behind her.
“Señorita? You want me?” a soft voice asked.
Whirling around, she saw a woman smaller than herself standing on the porch. Stepping back outside, she smiled. “Hello. You must be Paola. You speak English?”
“Sí, I speak little bit.” The woman’s brown face was weathered and creased. She wore a traditional, brightly patterned Andean dress, woolen shawl and cap.
“That’s okay. I speak a little Spanish, so we’ll get along fine. Uh, I’m Josie.” Sticking out her hand, she added, “Nice to meet you.”
Paola hesitated, looking rather bewildered, before accepting her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she parroted with a heavy accent. Then she reached up to gently touch Josie’s swollen cheek. “Javier tell me Manuel do this. Stinking malparido!” The woman spat into the dirt.
“It will heal,” Josie said, wishing the bruise would magically disappear. Then she changed the subject. “Thank you for breakfast. The arepas were delicious.”
The little woman broke into a wide, nearly toothless smile. “I glad you like.”
“Can I help you fix lunch?” Josie mimed feeding herself. “And do the laundry?” She held up her bundle of clothes and made a scrubbing motion with her hand.
Nodding, Paola said, “Ah sí. You come.” She led the way around to the back of the long building, revealing the small extension where she and Javier slept and a fire pit with a tripod of iron bars from which hung a cast iron pot. A delicious, steamy aroma wafted from the pot’s contents.
“I make sudado de carne res. Is meat and rice and tomato and … how you say?” She pinched her fingers together and rubbed them over the pot.
“Spice?”
“Sí, sí, spice. Is good.”
“I’m sure it is. Can I help?”
Paola tilted her head, thinking. Then she grinned. “You want make arepas?”
“Yes!” Josie nodded enthusiastically.
Her new friend giggled. “Okay. I teach.”
Happy to learn and to have something to do, Josie carefully followed directions. They baked the arepas in a Dutch oven over the fire. When they were done, Paola called the young man Josie had seen guarding the trail. He hurried to join them at a table in the bunkhouse. Paola introduced him as Felipe. He didn’t speak English but had a pleasant face – and a healthy appetite. Hiding a grin as she watched him stuff his face, Josie dug into her own meal, finding the beef dish just as tasty as all of Paola’s cooking.
As soon as Felipe was done eating, Paola filled another plate, wrapped it in cloth and sent the youth to deliver the food to Carlos, who guarded the top of the hidden trail. Josie remembered him from yesterday. Had it really been only one day since her arrival here? It seemed longer.
Washing clothes involved dragging a large metal washtub out from under the porch and toting several buckets of water from the hot spring. Paola produced a bar of strong homemade soap and they went to work washing clothes the old fashioned way with a washboard. A rope strung between the bunkhouse and the mine entrance served for drying the clothes.
As they worked, Josie questioned the older woman, using a combination of Spanish and English, about the mission Gabriel and the others were to conduct. With difficulty, Paola explained the men had gone to conduct a raid on drug smugglers, confirming Josie’s suspicion and increasing her worries for the elusive Guardian. She would hate to tell Lara he’d gotten himself killed. More than that, even though he’d kidnapped and threatened her, she cared about the man. She wanted him to return safe and sound. He must!
By the time she and Paola completed their task, Josie was tired but felt good for having done her part. They shared a quick supper of noon leftovers. Then her new friend gave her a hug, warming her heart, and sent her on her way to the foreman’s house. Night had fallen. The place was dark, cold and silent when she walked in, giving Josie an eerie feeling. She wished Gabriel was there.
Lying in his bed a short while later, she couldn’t drive the infernal man from her thoughts. Everything they’d said and done replayed like a tape in her head. Sleep didn’t come easy but when it did, at least her dreams remained peaceful.
The next few days ran together. She helped Paola with cooking, learning how to prepare several Colombian dishes and enjoyed getting to know her patient teacher better. Yet, Gabriel always remained on her mind. Where were he and his men? Was he safe? Most of all, when would he return?
*
Gabriel led his tired, dusty followers back to their mountain stronghold late in the morning one week after their departure. He was as
exhausted and dirty as the rest. They’d ridden hard for the past two days in order to lose their pursuers, barely stopping to eat and sleep a few hours before pushing on. The band of drug smugglers on their trail were thirsty for blood after seeing millions of dollars worth of cocaine blown sky high. They hadn’t been easy to lose.
Riding into the canyon, Gabriel thought of only two things, his need for rest and Josie. He wasn’t sure which he craved most until he saw her. As his men thundered in behind him, she came running from behind the bunkhouse with Paola. Both women paused to scan the milling horses and men. Paola gave a glad cry and ran to greet her husband. Josie, who wore a multi-colored shawl Paola must have loaned her, stood staring at him.
Elated, he drank in the sight of her, noticing her bruised cheek had healed and a red ribbon twined through her long raven braid. Another gift from Paola perhaps? Then Cezar snorted, drawing his attention. Dismounting, he led the tired horse to the corral, unsaddled him, removed his bridle and turned him loose in the enclosure.
His lovely captive had moved to stand outside the foreman’s house. Striding over there, he removed his dust-covered hat and jacket, shaking off some of the dust. He stopped a few feet from Josie, longing to take her in his arms and smother her with kisses.
“Hello,” she said with a tentative smile, twisting the shawl’s fringe in a nervous manner.
“Hello, Josie,” he replied hoarsely, needing a drink. “How are you?”
“I-I’m fine, but you look tired. Come on in.” She pushed open the door and motioned for him to enter as if this had become her house in his absence.
Amused by the thought, he stepped past her, picking up the aroma of spices mingled with her own natural scent. He hungered for her but didn’t want to touch her in his filthy condition. Besides, during his time away he’d made up his mind to drag the truth out of her one way or another. Kissing her would only distract him from his goal.
“Paola and I were just fixing something to eat,” she said, following him inside. “Would you like me to bring you a plate?”