When Sloan’s voice cracked, she rose and walked quickly from the room and out the front door.
“Wait!” Bay called, racing after her. “Sloan, wait a minute.”
By the time Bay got to the front door, Sloan was already seated on the wagon and had the reins in her hand.
“Good-bye, Bay,” Sloan said. “I’ll come visit again sometime.”
“When?”
“Whenever you say,” Sloan said, grinning as though what had happened in the back room had been left there along with all her painful memories.
“Then how about Sunday?” Bay asked. “Come for dinner on Sunday.”
Sloan fiddled with the buttons on her vest for a moment. “All right. Sunday it is. See you then.”
Bay could hardly wait for Long Quiet to come home so she could tell him about Sloan’s visit. She was sure he wouldn’t mind if Sloan came to dinner on Sunday. Just in case, she decided to provide him with an especially good supper before she told him about it. Thanks to the trunk of clothes, she would be wearing a pretty calico dress to greet him. She was in the lean-to when she heard the sound of a horse—no, two horses—nearing the adobe house.
Bay had lived on the frontier long enough to know that in the unexpected lay danger. She searched the lean-to for a weapon and found a long butcher knife. It would only be good at close range, but as bad as she was with firearms it was as good a weapon as any, and she would use it if she had to.
She inched her way along the wall of the lean-to toward a crack in the wall that gave her a view of the oncoming riders. The man riding in front was dressed in Spanish clothing, but Bay couldn’t see his face because the brim of the flat-crowned black hat drooped in front. The other man, hidden behind him, rode a magnificent bayo.
Bay’s heart raced, and she felt dizzy. She leaned back against the wall of mesquite posts and took a deep breath, trying to calm her jangled nerves. When she turned around again the face of the second man was visible. It was Long Quiet!
Bay threw the knife down onto the dirt floor and went racing around the corner of the shed and directly into Long Quiet’s path. The bayo pranced nervously as Long Quiet dismounted and tied the horse to the hitching rail in front of the house. He had barely turned around before Bay threw herself into his arms.
“I guess this means you’re happy to see me,” Long Quiet said with a chuckle as he embraced his wife.
“I was afraid it wasn’t you. I didn’t recognize the man riding with you.” Bay turned her head to look and realized that the man was Cruz Guerrero. “Oh,” she groaned. She turned to hide her face against Long Quiet’s chest. “I feel so foolish.”
“It is not foolish to be wary of strangers,” Cruz said. “I apologize if I frightened you.”
“No apology is necessary,” Bay said. “You both look hungry. Come inside and sit down. Supper’s ready and there’s plenty. I hope you can stay and eat with us.”
“I hadn’t planned to stay long.”
“Please. You’ll be our first guest.” Bay didn’t know if she had feminine wiles, but she tried out a blazing smile on Cruz. She grinned even more broadly when it seemed to be working.
Cruz turned to Long Quiet, who added his encouragement. “It would give us some more time to discuss your suggestion. I think much better on a full stomach,” Long Quiet hinted.
“But of course,” Cruz said, relenting. “I will join you, Señora Coburn. I thank you for the invitation.”
“Is this Golden Lady?” Bay asked, reaching out to stroke the palomino’s nose. “She’s beautiful!”
“Yes, she is. She’s yours if you want her.”
“Mine?” Bay moved from Long Quiet’s embrace, using both hands to stroke the beautiful blond mane and the white blaze between the palomino’s huge brown eyes.
Long Quiet grinned. “She needs to learn a few more manners, but I brought her home so you could see if you want her. What do you think?”
“I love her.”
Bay looked up at Long Quiet to show her pleasure at the wonderful gift he’d given her, and he suddenly noticed the dark circles under her eyes. He felt responsible for her fatigue and realized he’d only made more work for her by bringing Cruz home. Now she would have to serve both of them before she could rest. “Then it’s settled. She’s yours. Let’s go eat,” he said.
Bay saw the displeasure shadow Long Quiet’s gray eyes and wondered what had gone wrong. He was such a mystery to her. Perhaps he was only hungry and supper would put him in a better mood. “Everything’s ready,” she said. “I only have to find an extra plate for Cruz.”
The meal that followed was a revelation to Long Quiet. It appeared Bay wasn’t at all concerned that there weren’t three plates of the same pattern in the house or that the pewter fork tines were bent or that they drank their coffee from pottery mugs rather than china cups and saucers. He couldn’t understand how, if Bay had been marrying Jonas Harper for the silks and silver his money could buy her, she could be so obviously happy with the few simple things he provided in this adobe house.
But then, maybe he only wanted to believe she was happy because he couldn’t bear to think her sparkling eyes and glowing smile were all an act.
“And now, mi amigo,” Cruz said when the coffee had been poured. “Regarding that suggestion of mine . . . have you thought any more about it?”
Bay tried not to look as curious as she was. Of course Rip had always included her in his business discussions, but she knew that neither Texans nor Comanches were so open with their wives as Rip had been with his daughters. She waited to see what stand Long Quiet would take with respect to her involvement in his business.
Bay felt a small bud unfurl within her when Long Quiet said, “Let’s see what my wife makes of this suggestion of yours.” She leaned forward intently as he explained, “Jonas is pestering Cruz to sell him another tract of land. Cruz says he’d rather give me first crack at buying it.”
“Can you use the land?” Bay asked.
“Yes, I’ve got a decent-size herd of stray cattle branded and I need a place to graze them.”
“Then why don’t you buy the land from Cruz,” Bay said.
Long Quiet sat back and pursed his lips thoughtfully, then said, “I haven’t the money to pay Cruz for the land outright or enough collateral to make a loan.”
“Then why don’t you take a long-term lease on the land,” Bay suggested. “That way you’d have the use of the land without the need to make a large loan. You could pay some smaller amount each year. Jonas wouldn’t be so interested in buying the land if he couldn’t have the use of it for his lifetime, would he?”
The two men looked at each other, then stared in awe at Bay. “Why didn’t I think of that?” Cruz said. “And the land would still be there for my grandchildren.”
“Would it solve your problem with Jonas?” Long Quiet asked.
“Sí, I think it would. Jonas will not want the land if he must honor a lifetime lease. I think your wife has come up with a very good idea. I’ll have my solicitor draw up the papers right away,” Cruz said.
“This calls for a celebration,” Bay said.
“Not right now. I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” Long Quiet countered, thinking how much Bay needed to rest.
“And I have a long ride ahead of me,” Cruz said. “Another time, perhaps.”
Long Quiet saw Bay attempt to hide her disappointment and offered, “How about Sunday?”
Cruz shook his head. “I spend Sundays with my nephew, Cisco. I regret that I must say no.”
“Why not bring Cisco with you?” Bay suggested eagerly. She held her breath, hardly able to believe the fortuitous turn of events that might bring her sister back together with the child she’d abandoned two years ago.
“I don’t know.”
“I’d love to see him. I’ll bet he’s adorable,” Bay coaxed. “You know we’re expecting a child of our own. If you come, it’ll give Walker a chance to see what’s in store for him. Please say you’l
l come and bring Cisco.”
This time Cruz didn’t even bother to check with Long Quiet before he agreed. “I cannot refuse the request of such a lovely lady.”
Shortly, Cruz left. Long Quiet noticed that Bay seemed particularly nervous and wondered whether he’d made a mistake assuming she wanted to have Cruz come for dinner. “No second thoughts about having company for dinner on Sunday?” he questioned.
Bay took a deep breath. She couldn’t decide whether or not to tell Long Quiet that she’d already invited Sloan.
“Bay?” Long Quiet closed the distance between them and turned Bay to face him.
“Uh . . . nothing.” But the guilty look in Bay’s eyes gave her away.
“What is it, Bay? Is there some reason why I shouldn’t have invited Cruz to dinner on Sunday?” All kinds of jealous thoughts came to Long Quiet’s mind, and his hands tightened on her shoulders.
Bay threaded her fingers anxiously behind her back. “I’ve invited Sloan to dinner Sunday, too. So there! Now you know my secret.”
Long Quiet was startled into silence by her outburst. Then he broke out laughing. “Is that all?”
“You won’t say anything to Cruz, will you?” She placed her palms against his chest. “This is a chance for Sloan to see Cisco, and I know if she sees him once, she’ll want to see him again. But if Cruz finds out Sloan’s going to be here, he might not bring Cisco and then—”
“Take it easy,” Long Quiet soothed, reaching out his arms to enfold Bay. “I’ll help with your little intrigue. But don’t get your hopes too high, Bay. Sloan must have had good reasons for what she did, and they’re not going to magically disappear when she sees her son again.”
“Well, I didn’t think they would,” she said, rubbing her cheek against Long Quiet’s shirt. “But Cisco’s bound to be adorable, don’t you think? All babies are. And Sloan will—”
Bay’s mind was still occupied with scheming when Long Quiet’s mouth covered hers. Startled, she jerked away from his touch. Eyes that had been a smoky gray turned almost black as his head lowered once more. This time she was ready, and his possession was no less fierce than hers. He lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the big bed in the other room.
“Come to bed,” he murmured. “You need to rest.”
“I’ll rest,” she promised. “Later.”
Sunday morning dawned cloudy and gray. Bay only prayed it wouldn’t rain. She wanted everything to be perfect, and sunshine was part of the beautiful day she had planned.
Long Quiet was aware of Bay’s strange mood. She’d been nervous as a mare with a newborn foal all morning. Every time he came near her, she jumped. “It’s going to be all right, Bay,” he said. “Don’t worry so much.”
Bay looked at Long Quiet and wondered if he understood how important it was to her to reunite Sloan with her child. She couldn’t have Little Deer back, but there was nothing to keep Sloan from being a mother again to Cisco—except Sloan’s own obstinance. “Thanks for caring,” she said.
They were interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats. Long Quiet stepped to the open front door and looked out. “Sloan is here.”
“Hello, Walker,” Sloan said. She stepped off her horse, and after releasing a package from the ties that held it to the saddle, carried it with her to the threshold.
Long Quiet and Sloan gauged each other, looking for any signs of hostility. When neither found any, it was Bay who released a sigh of relief. “Hello, Sloan,” Bay said. “I’m glad you could come.” She nudged Long Quiet aside so Sloan could come in the door.
“I’ve brought you a present,” Sloan said, handing Bay the bulky package, which was wrapped in brown paper.
“What is it?”
“Open it and see,” Sloan said with a smile.
Bay sat on a nearby chair and carefully opened the brown-paper package. “It’s a quilt. Why, it’s exquisite!” Bay opened the quilt up and let her fingertips roam the intricate multicolored design. “I didn’t know you could sew.”
Embarrassed to be found out, Sloan admitted, “I . . . I started while you were gone. With Cricket married and at Lion’s Dare, it helped me pass the time alone at night.”
Bay stood and hugged her sister. “Thank you.” She grabbed Sloan’s hand and tugged her along behind her. “Come on. Let’s see how it looks on the bed.”
Long Quiet followed after them and arrived in the bedroom doorway in time to see Bay open the folds and shake the colorful quilt out across the huge bed.
“How beautiful! And it fits,” Bay said, running around the bed straightening wrinkles.
Sloan grinned. “I had to stay up late the past three nights adding more squares. I couldn’t believe the size of this bed when I saw it.”
“Yes, well, it is big all right,” Bay agreed with a grin. She met Long Quiet’s eyes and flushed at the amusement she saw in them. “I have a few things I need to finish up for supper. Want to help?”
“Sure.”
Bay led Sloan out the front door, not giving her a chance to focus on the table in the front room set for five, not three. They were in the lean-to when Cruz arrived in the carriage.
“Were you expecting more company?” Sloan asked.
“Actually, Walker invited Cruz for dinner, too,” Bay said. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“I . . . I suppose not. I owe a lot to Cruz Guerrero.” Sloan self-consciously pushed a stray hair behind her ear. She’d tied her sable hair with a ribbon at her nape, as she usually did, but wisps were constantly flying free. It had become a habit to reach up and smooth her hair when she was nervous.
“I didn’t realize you were indebted to Cruz,” Bay said to make conversation. She wanted Cruz to have time to get inside with Cisco before they left the lean-to and joined the others in the house.
“Cruz was the one who arranged for me to see Antonio one last time before he was buried. And when I decided not to keep Antonio’s child, it was Cruz . . .” Sloan’s voice was shaking, but she managed to finish, “. . . Cruz who made the arrangements for his family to take the baby.”
Bay used a pair of mitts to lift the heavy dutch oven off the fire. “I guess we can bring the plates out to serve this up whenever we’re ready to eat.”
Sloan followed Bay into the house but stopped square in the doorway at the sight that greeted her. Sitting in Cruz’s lap was a small child, a little boy with dark brown hair and sky blue eyes who looked amazingly like the man who held him. The child looked up at her and grinned, a wide smile that, together with the sparkling blue eyes and the cleft in his chin, made him look even more like Cruz.
Of course, the two Guerrero brothers had looked alike, but there was nothing of Antonio’s dark, betraying eyes in this innocent child.
“Hola! Como esta usted?” Cisco said.
“Speak in English,” Cruz corrected.
Agreeably, Cisco repeated his greeting to Sloan in English.
“Hello,” was all Sloan could manage in reply.
Seeing her sister’s distress, Bay urged the men to take their places at the table while she and Sloan carried plates back and forth until everyone had a serving of the hearty stew she’d prepared. Sloan took the only seat left to her, which was directly across from Cisco, whose seat had been elevated with a small stool.
Bay noticed that Cruz hadn’t taken his eyes off Sloan since she’d arrived. And if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a great deal of admiration for her sister in his piercing blue eyes. But how was that possible? Sloan had been his brother’s lover.
As the meal progressed, it became clear to Bay that not only was Cruz attracted to Sloan, but the feeling, whether Sloan knew it or not, was reciprocated. Bay found the relationship between Sloan and Cruz intriguing, since it had never occurred to her she’d be matchmaking, only that she’d be bringing Sloan together with the child she had given away. However, every attempt she made to involve Sloan and Cruz in a conversation seemed doomed to failure. At last she decided to take the bull by the horns.
“Sloan tells me you were the one who made the arrangements to provide a home for Cisco with your family,” Bay said to Cruz.
“Sí. Sloan and I came to an agreement that made everyone happy.”
Bay watched the blush rise on Sloan’s cheeks and wondered what exactly had been involved in that agreement.
At that moment, Cisco begged to be let down. At first Cruz tried to keep him at the table, but it soon became obvious that the rambunctious boy had ideas of his own.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” Cruz said, finally standing to leave the table. “I’m afraid Cisco doesn’t ever sit still for very long.”
Bay could see what was coming. Cruz would use Cisco’s activity as an excuse to leave. She wasn’t about to let that happen, especially when Sloan hadn’t even touched the child yet. “Why don’t you and Sloan take Cisco for a walk while Walker and I clean up here? Then we can all have some dessert,” Bay said.
“You’re asking for trouble,” Long Quiet murmured in her ear.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” she whispered back.
There was nothing Sloan or Cruz could do to avoid taking the walk together without admitting they didn’t want to be alone with one another.
Sloan looked one last time at Bay but found no mercy in her sister’s determined gaze. “All right,” Sloan agreed reluctantly. “We’ll be back shortly.”
Sloan followed slightly behind Cruz, who trailed a foot or two behind Cisco, whose chubby legs were churning as he headed straight for the corral that held Golden Lady.
“Caballo!” Cisco yelled gleefully, dropping to his knees to wriggle under the bars of the corral.
Cruz grabbed Cisco by the waist and hauled the little boy up into his arms. “In English!” he chided.
“Why do you make him speak English?” Sloan asked when she saw the woeful look on Cisco’s face as Cruz chastised him.
“Because his mother speaks English,” Cruz replied.
Sloan met his steady gaze for a moment before she turned away, flushed because she was pleased and didn’t want to be.
Cruz put Cisco down with a warning to stay outside the corral, and when the little boy had drifted out of hearing toward a patch of wildflowers, he turned back to say, “I want to be sure that when he is old enough to make the choice himself, he can speak to his mother if he wishes to do so.”
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