by Debra Holt
“It’s Marshal Blackhawke,” he corrected. “There’s no ‘mister’, and you’re rare indeed… a female that doesn’t think about those things. It’s been my experience every female is taught to think about that stuff from the moment she takes her first steps. From baby steps to steps down an aisle…”
He needed correction and Angie didn’t let him finish his sentence. “You have a fairly skewered view of the female sex. I can tell you that I am not ‘most females’. I can assure you I didn’t grow up dreaming about the man at the end of an aisle.”
“I see… a feminist.”
“Labels are not made to fit me. They are made only for my designs.” The rejoinder was meant to put him in his place. However, he evidently didn’t know where his place was.
“That’s right.” Jace tilted his head in contemplation. “I recall someone said you made clothing.”
“I design clothing. There’s a big difference. People love my designs. But I doubt you would understand that, being the outdoorsy type and all.”
“That label doesn’t exactly fit me either.” Jace handed it right back to her.
“Then we’re just two unique people, thrown together in a situation not of our choosing.” Angie gave him a sweet albeit less than sincere smile. “But I intend to make the best of it.” She changed the topic. “Do you live in Santa Fe?”
“Since I work in Santa Fe, that would be helpful, don’t you think?”
Was it just her or was he always an unpleasant person?
“How long have you lived there?”
“All my life.”
“Long time.”
Jace shot her a look at that point. However, before he could reply, the car was jolted by a gust of wind, which brought his attention fully back to the road ahead.
Excitement mounted as Angie spied her first ‘real mountains’ in the distance.
She had also been delighted when they had passed the state line and crossed into New Mexico. Because, in her way of thinking, the closer the mountains, meant the closer they were to Santa Fe… the elusive destination she had tried to reach for almost a month!
“This is the land of outlaws and Indians,” she pronounced, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside her window and bolstered by the open brochure on her lap. “Oops! I mean Native Americans.” Her eyes swung over to him. “I really don’t want to be politically incorrect or rude. I read a little about your state in this brochure I picked up in the lobby this morning.” Her fingers briefly held up the colorful paper.
“I see you’ve been busy reading gauging by the stack of brochures I see sticking out of your bag.” A hint of a smile softened the strong set of his jaw line.
Angie took note of the change in his features. “You should smile more.” The words were out without a thought.
“Because?”
Why couldn’t she think before she spoke? Nothing for it but to plow ahead. “It suits you. It makes you not so unapproachable.”
“I’m unapproachable?”
“I didn’t say I thought that. It’s just that you can be a bit daunting to people who might not have met you or know you… sort of like a stoic, lawman attitude. So it’s surprising.” Wow. She had really muddled that one.
But at least she hadn’t blurted out the fact that his smile also did strange things to her breathing. Her gaze went quickly back to the scenery outside and away from the male beside her. Even though she kept her eyes trained away, she was very much aware of everything about her companion. Their arrival couldn’t come soon enough. The interior of the big vehicle wasn’t quite so large after all.
“You’ll find that New Mexico may have a few surprises for you.” Jace’s voice held a mixture of a smile and pride in his homeland.
“Why is it called the Land of Enchantment?” Her gaze returned to him.
“I think that’s an interpretation that each person must decide for themselves. You’ll discover that for yourself before too long. The land and people will cast their spells on you. You might never want to leave.”
His silver eyes could cast their own spells. Angie needed to stay on guard around them. She nibbled the inside of her lip gently, a nervous habit of hers, as she struggled to maintain an even lightness in her demeanor. There was something about the combination of his eyes and that smile.
“We’ll see about that.” Where had her swift repartee gone? “You know if we’re going to make this plan of yours work… and I still want to state, for the record, that I think it will crash and burn around us sooner rather than later… we need to know a bit more about each other.”
He kept his eyes on the road ahead, but she could tell he found value in her words by the slight nod of his head. “What do you suggest?”
“We make use of this time to get to know a few more details about each other. A married couple should know something about each other, don’t you think?”
A broader smile escaped him then. Angie found herself smiling in return. Yes… he should do that more often.
“I’ll begin.” Angie warmed to the task. “Tell me about your aunt. From what you said last night, I take it that all this is really being done because of her.”
Jace took a few moments in thoughtful contemplation. “Not because of her… for her.” He set the record straight. “My Aunt Victoria and Uncle Tomas raised me from the time I was nine. I wasn’t exactly an easy child. I put them through a lot, but they never gave up on me. I succeeded because of them. They made sure I was raised with a certain set of values. They supported me both emotionally and financially so that I could go to college. They made sure that I had a chance at a career I wanted. I owe them a debt I will never be able to repay.”
The look he gave her, coupled with his previous words, brought Angie to see him in a whole new light. She tried to envision a younger version of the man beside her and had difficulty doing that. Perhaps his aunt would share a photo or two one day. Angie was curious to see who this man had been as a child. Then she brushed the thought away almost as soon as it had come. It was just a silly notion and silly notions could get a person into trouble.
“What happened to your parents?” The words went out. She wished they could be taken back when she saw the darkening of his mood.
His voice was even but did not hold much emotion. “My father was in the military. He was Anglo… from the north… Michigan. He met my mother at a dance one summer while he was on leave. Despite her family’s wishes, my mother eloped with him. He was killed in the first invasion of Iraq, a long time ago. My mother drank herself into oblivion the next three years. She died from it. My aunt took me in when no one else would.”
Jace obviously had given her the condensed version of his early life. She had more questions but now didn’t seem the best time to ask.
“Do you have any siblings?”
“I have a ‘sister’, Marita, who is the daughter of my aunt and uncle… which actually makes her my cousin. However, we grew up together and are more brother and sister than most blood ones. She is married to Glenn Peters, and they have two boys… ages five and seven. They live in Taos. It’s a town about an hour north from Santa Fe.”
“I’ve heard of it. There are some great artisans that live there. I found that out thanks to another brochure from the hotel lobby,” she added with a smile. “I hope to visit it while I’m here.”
“We’ll see that you do. I have a feeling you and Marita will hit it off. She loves fashion… much to the headache of her husband Glenn and his checkbook.”
Angie laughed at that. She hoped Marita would still like her once the truth was known. Then she caught herself. What did it matter? These people would soon forget all about her. Or if they did think of her, it would be as the “horrid female” that broke their poor Jason’s heart when she left. Right. She must remember to not get too involved with any of them. That was something she was good at… not letting anyone too close.
Jason noted the hint of sadness in Angie’s green eyes and the way she had
grown somber. Once again, he experienced the desire to brush it from her face.
“We have another couple of hours of driving, but I think it’s time for some lunch.” He changed the subject as easily as he changed lanes of the highway. A few minutes later, he pulled off the highway, and they were soon seated in a booth in a small diner off old Route 66.
Angie had read about such places but had never had the experience firsthand. She was intrigued. The booths were vinyl, their bright blue color stark against the off-white linoleum flooring and red topped tables. License plates from virtually every state in the nation covered the walls, along with photos of cowboys, Indians, and early outlaws, such as Billy the Kid. A fast tempo country song was playing from speakers in the ceiling. Angie could have spent a good deal of time taking it all in, but the smell of food was more paramount as the soft rumble in her stomach verified.
“What’s the specialty here?” Angie engaged the young teenaged girl who seated them and now waited with pad and pen for their order. She looked to be of Native American heritage. Angie admired the long black hair tied at the nape of her neck and the huge brown eyes that kept sliding over Jace, even though she was supposedly taking Angie’s order. Angie glanced at her companion, and noted he seemed impervious to the girl’s attention; his eyes stayed on the menu before him… just as a newly-minted husband’s should.
“The enchilada platter is the special today. That’s what most people order.” Their waitress informed them in a faintly bored tone.
“Then that’s what I will have.” Angie closed the menu and added a glass of iced water with lemon to go along with her choice.
“Make that two of the same,” Jace spoke up.
“Red or green?” The girl asked Angie as she collected the menus.
“Pardon me?” Angie wasn’t sure what she was referring to. Did their enchiladas come in different colors in New Mexico?
“What type chile sauce do you want on them?” A hint of exasperation was in the waitress’s tone.
Had she committed some sort of local food faus pax? “Hmmm, I think red will be fine.” Angie looked up to find Jace’s eyes on her with amusement in their depths. “What? Is there something funny in that?”
“No, nothing funny. I had no idea you were a fan of New Mexican cooking.”
“Well, this will be my first taste. I might as well follow what the locals prefer… when in Rome and all that stuff.”
Jace just smiled that “knowing” smile of his again and ordered the same sauce.
After the girl brought their drinks and departed, Jason continued their earlier session. Crossing his arms, he rested them on the table in front of him, an easy smile molding his mouth. It was his turn to quiz her.
“What about you? Family? A boyfriend back home I should be worried about?”
“No family. No boyfriend of any note to be worried about.”
“Are the men in New York blind?”
Angie felt a hint of blush at the offhand compliment. She kept her eyes on her water glass.
“No… not blind. I guess I’m just picky. And it takes a great deal of my time… my business that is.”
“I see.”
Why did that two-word reply seem to indicate far more? What did he see? He unnerved her sometimes with his all-knowing, all-seeing gaze. Not to mention how the rest of him kept all her other senses heightened too. If she wasn’t careful, he could definitely be lethal to her common sense.
“What brings you to our fair city of Santa Fe for your next venture instead of a far larger metropolis?”
“I’ve heard a lot about this area from business people that have been here. That instilled the seed in my mind. Then one day, I was at a gallery in Manhattan. I saw this amazing painting … it was a print… but it was still amazing. The colors were incredible… it’s so hard to describe and do it justice. I walked in the door and was immediately drawn to it from across the room. It was a landscape at sunset, here in New Mexico. You could feel it all, if that makes any sense. I was totally mesmerized by it. I immediately tried to find how and where I could purchase the original. The gallery owner said the original was in Santa Fe, but was not for sale. At that point, I got this idea to make a collection using the vibrant colors I saw in that painting. Once the idea took hold, I just knew it was something I had to pursue. I would love to find the artist and make an offer on that original. Or at least see the piece in its true form.”
The quick arrival of their plates halted the conversation for a moment or two. Jason offered her the warmer that held hot flour tortillas. She took one. He did the same and closed the lid.
“So who is this artist we need to track down for you?”
“J. B. Wolfe.”
Jason interrupted the conversation by almost choking on the bite of tortilla he had just taken. She watched in wide-eyed concern while he took a long sip from his water glass. He then cleared his throat a time or two.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.” He attempted a smile and picked up his fork. “So you fell in love with a painting of J.B. Wolfe’s… and that painting brought you here?”
“Yes. I really want to meet him. He’s a genius. Do you know of him?”
Jason kept his gaze on his plate while he cut into the enchiladas.
His voice was noncommittal. “I know him.”
Angie could not get over her luck!
“How wonderful is this? Can we meet him soon? He isn’t one of those reclusive types who doesn’t want to be bothered by his fans is he? Do you think he’ll have time for me?”
Jason looked up from his plate then. “I’m sure he’ll make time for you.” The words were spoken with a low conviction in his tone.
Angie was still smiling when she took the first bite of her food. She chewed a couple of times and then swallowed. The smile in her eyes changed. Her fork dropped to the plate in front of her with a loud clatter and moisture began to gather in the corner of her eyes. Her mouth was literally on fire! Her hands quickly went to the glass in front of her and, though it might not be ladylike, she took several gulps of the liquid.
It was all Jace could do to maintain his composure. Three fourths of a glass of water was downed quickly. The tears were still evident.
“You might need more.” Jace pushed his own water glass across to her.
Angie fixed him with a glare even through the tears. “You knew these were hot and you didn’t stop me?”
“I thought you knew what you were getting into. I did ask if you liked New Mexican food. And you replied when in Rome. We do love our chiles here.”
She would have replied but she was too busy taking another long gulp from his glass while she shot angry daggers over the rim at him. It was a few moments before she could speak again.
“That is pure fire.” She moved the offending platter of food away from her. “How can anyone eat that?”
“There are a lot of people who eat it and love it,” he said, still grinning at her. “It takes time for a tenderfoot like you to get the hang of it.”
“Well, that certainly explains a lot about you then,” Angie replied.
Jace called the waitress over and ordered another plate for her… a mild plate. Angie stopped him.
“Just make it a salad please, and a pitcher of water.” The waitress gave her a strange look but walked back to the kitchen.
“You need more water to put the fire out?” Jace asked with a smile.
She gave him a long, level look. “No. The pitcher of water is to pour over your head.”
Chapter Four
“I am guessing this is the famed ‘silent treatment’?” Jace asked across the silence.
Angie had not spoken a word since their departure from the café half an hour ago.
“Although, this is good.”
He seemed to not mind the fact he carried on a conversation with himself. She turned her face from the window with a pointed look at him.
“Seriously, this is good practice. Wife is mad at
husband… gives him the silent treatment. This is all part of the plan preparation.”
“This could be the shortest marriage on record.” Angie bit out.
Jace grinned. “I’ll grow on you. It takes a while, but I’ll grow on you.”
“Like fungus on a tree,” Angie responded, her chin lifted as she scored a hit.
Jace was quiet for a few minutes. What was it about her that one moment he wanted to strangle her and the next, well, the next he just wanted to hold her and smile? Or maybe spend the afternoon exploring her enticing lips? Yep, he was in trouble. She was definitely some sort of green-eyed witch. Her spells were way too potent for a mortal man. Keep to the safe ground.
“So, what flavor of ice cream do you like?”
She gave him a long look. He was back to her original suggestion. Angie decided it was for the best to return to safe conversation.
“Strawberry.”
“That means you love fresh strawberries and—”
She didn’t let him finish. “No, it does not. I love strawberry ice cream. I hate strawberries. And let me guess, you strike me as a nutty pecan kind of guy.”
“Wrong. It’s just plain chocolate for me.”
“And you like steak… and more steak… and those hot as blazes enchiladas.”
He shot a grin over at her. “You’re a quick study. My aunt makes the best enchiladas around. Don’t be surprised if she tries to teach you.”
Angie’s smile grew smaller at that point. “I don’t like having to fool people. They’ll really hate me when this is over.”
Jace was surprised Angie would consider what any of his family would think of her after she was gone. Why would she? The thought gave him pause. Maybe there were more depths to this woman than he first gave credit. Maybe she did respect other things besides the bottom line of a profit and loss sheet.
Angie was taken by surprise when she felt a warm hand cover hers as it lay between them on the console. What was even more surprising was the fact she didn’t jerk away. For the first time in a very long time, she felt safe, almost as if she was cared about and she couldn’t bring herself to break the connection… not right away.