Chapter 2
Nina Cassidy tried not to stare at the nearly naked man who followed Sandy into the kitchen, but it was impossible. In all her forty years, he was the most incredibly handsome man Nina had ever seen, and she had seen plenty. Nothing marred the perfection of his body – not a scar or a wart, or so much as a freckle.
“Nina? Nina.”
The housekeeper felt a flush climb in her cheeks as she drew her gaze from the stranger. “What?”
“Would you go see if you can find Mister...” Sandy’s voice trailed off as she looked at Rafael. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your last name.”
“I...” He flashed a lightning-bright smile. “I don’t seem to be able to remember it.” Another lie, he thought. He didn’t have a last name.
Sandy frowned. “Maybe I should take you into town to see Doc Samuel.”
Rafael shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”
With a nod, Sandy looked at Nina. “Will you go upstairs and look through my dad’s clothes and see if you can find Rafael something to wear?”
Nina looked at Sandy and, though she didn’t say a word, Sandy knew the housekeeper was also regretting the necessity of clothing the man.
“Rafe…do you mind if I call you Rafe?”
“Not at all.”
“Why don’t you sit down?” Sandy said. “You look a little pale. Would you like something to drink? A cup of coffee, perhaps?”
“Thank you.” He pulled a chair from the table and sat down, watching as she picked up a large speckled pot and filled a cup with steaming dark liquid.
She handed him the mug. “Do you take cream or sugar?”
“I...” He looked up at her and shrugged. He had never tasted coffee before. Benjamin had warned him it was bitter, but Rafael wasn’t sure what bitter was, except that it was the opposite of sweet.
Lifting the cup, he took a sip, shuddered as he swallowed the hot bitter brew.
Sandy grinned. “I think you probably like it with cream and sugar,” she mused aloud.
He nodded. Perhaps some kind of sweetening would serve to make it more palatable.
Sandy poured a cup for herself, added a generous amount of cream and sugar to his, then sat down, taking the seat across the table from his.
“What brings you to Hell Town?” she asked.
He took another sip of coffee before he answered. Cream and sugar did, indeed, make a difference. “I was sent here. By my superior.”
“Oh, that’s right. You said you’re a man of the cloth. Are you going to work with Reverend McEwan?”
“Yes, in a way.”
“He’s not leaving, is he?”
“No. I’m going to be his…ah, his assistant,” he finished in a rush. Another lie, but at least it sounded logical.
“I see.” She found her gaze wandering over his broad chest. She didn’t know what there was about him, but she couldn’t seem to stop staring. She licked lips gone suddenly dry.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“What?” Realizing she had been staring at him for quite some time, she cast about for something to say. “I was just wondering…ah…why….”
“Why?”
“Yes, why…” She floundered a moment, then smiled as inspiration struck. “Why did you become a preacher?”
“I wanted to help people.”
“Oh?”
He gazed at her intently, his eyes as blue as a mid-summer sky. “Yes, Sandra Lynne Davis. Why don’t you tell me how I can help you?”
“What makes you think I need help?”
“Don’t you?”
Sandy laughed humorlessly. She needed a new barn, she needed eight thousand dollars cash by the end of the year to pay the back taxes and bring her loan at the bank up to date, she needed a new foreman. And, maybe, just maybe, Nina was right. What she really needed was a husband, preferably a rich one. Perhaps she should have said yes when Joseph Walsh asked her to marry him. It would be nice to have someone to lean on, someone to confide in, someone to share the burdens. What did they say? Love doubled your joys and halved your sorrows?
She blew out a sigh. She was so tired of trying to be tough and strong, of making all the decisions. Ever since her parents had been killed in a carriage accident the year before, she had been trying to run the ranch by herself. It wasn’t easy. Even though the men respected her, she knew they didn’t like taking orders from a woman. And always, in the back of her mind, was the thought that the accident that killed her parents hadn’t been an accident at all.
“Sandra?”
Rafe’s voice, as soft as starlight, brought her back to the present.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you can give me the kind of help I need,” she said.
“I’d like to try.”
“Well,” Sandy said, and suddenly the words poured out of her. She told him everything, how tired she was of trying to run the ranch on her own. She told him about the water being fouled, about her parents being killed, about the loan that was due at the end of the year. She told him about Joseph’s marriage proposal and how she had turned him down, and how the men resented taking orders from her.
“And then, yesterday, the foreman quit,” she said with a sigh, “and three of the men quit with him.”
“Is that all?” Rafe asked when she finished.
“All? Isn’t that enough?”
“They are not insurmountable problems.”
“No?” At times, it seemed as though they were.
“No.” He smiled at her, a smile that was as warm and bright as the sun. “Leave everything to me.”
“You! What can you do?”
“Well, I’m not sure, but I’ll think of something.”
“Sure you will.” Sandy blew out a deep breath. For a moment, one brief moment, she had foolishly believed that he might be the answer to her prayers.
“You don’t have much faith in me, do you?” he asked.
“Right now, I don’t have much faith in anything.”
“Faith precedes the miracle,” he murmured. “You have only to believe.”
“Right. Nina will show you to your room. If you need anything, just ask her.”
“Sandra...”
“You’re welcome to stay a few days, until you’re feeling better.”
“Thank you. Reverend McEwan isn’t expecting me for another week or so.”
“Well, make yourself at home,” Sandy said wearily, and left the room.
Going outside, Sandy stared into the darkness. She had gone into town in hopes of offering the bank a few acres of the back pasture in exchange for the over-due taxes, but Mr. Camden had refused and told her, quite candidly, that they expected to own all of the Double D by the end of the year. They already had a buyer, he had informed her, someone who could pay the loan and the taxes. No, he wasn’t at liberty to say who the prospective buyer was.
Maybe things would look better tomorrow, she thought, but somehow, she doubted it.
Chapter 3
Rafael stood out in the yard later that evening, listening to the myriad sounds of the night. How different the Earth was from the celestial glory he was used to. And yet, this small, relatively new and significant planet was beautiful in its own way. The tall trees, the thick green grass, the clear blue of the sky, he found them all pleasing to the eye.
The woman, too, was pleasing to the eye, with her wavy red hair and dark green eyes. And her shape...he was accustomed to female angels clad in demure long white robes. Never before had he seen a female shape so clearly defined as Sandy’s had been in her flannel shirt and pants. The memory sent another rush of heat to his groin. Was this lust? How strange, to have a physical body, one that felt hot and cold by turn. He lifted a hand to the back of his head. One that felt pain. And desire. He had heard of these things from others, but never experienced them himself.
He lifted his right arm, turned his hand from side to side, made a fist. It felt odd, having his spirit clothed in flesh. Never be
fore had he felt so...so heavy, so weighted down. He wasn’t sure he liked being earthbound, having to walk when he was used to flying, feeling the pangs of hunger. He yawned. Sleep, he realized, his body was demanding sleep.
Turning, he climbed the porch stairs and entered the house.
With luck, he would be able to provide the answers to the woman’s prayers in a day or two and return to the celestial realm, where he belonged.
* * * * *
Rafael woke the following morning feeling light-headed and disoriented. For a minute, he stared at the curtains fluttering at the open window. Where was he? Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair, winced as his fingers brushed the lump on the back of his head. Ah. Earth. He was on Earth. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he stood up, wondering if he would ever get used to the feeling of being encased in flesh. He brushed a hand across his jaw, startled to find it bristly to the touch. And then he grinned. Here, on Earth, he could grow a beard, like the one worn by Moses!
He was pondering what to do next when a delicious aroma tickled his nostrils. His stomach made a loud growling sound he found rather embarrassing.
He pulled on the clothes the woman, Nina, had brought him the night before. The shirt felt coarse against his skin, the pants stiff. The boots pinched his toes. How did people wear such tight, uncomfortable clothing?
Flexing his shoulders, he left the bedroom, following the scent of nourishment.
It led him to the kitchen, which was filled with bright sunlight and tantalizing aromas.
“Morning, handsome,” Nina said brightly. Her gaze ran over him from head to foot. “You don’t look so good. Does your head still hurt?”
“A little.”
“Sit down,” she said, gesturing at the table with a big wooden spoon. “Breakfast is about ready.”
With a nod, he sat at the table. His stomach clenched and rumbled loudly.
“Hope you like bacon and eggs,” Nina said. She busied herself at the stove a minute, then set a plate in front of him.
Rafael stared at the plate. It was piled high with strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, and biscuits smothered in gravy. He looked up at her and smiled. He knew what the food was. It had been explained to him before he left home. But he had never tasted any.
Lifting a fork, he took a bite of the eggs.
Nine lifted one brow. “Well?” she asked, watching him chew.
“Good,” he decided.
“Good,” she muttered under her breath. “Humph! I’ll bet those are the best eggs he’s ever had.”
She had no idea, Rafael thought with a grin.
Returning to the table, Nina poured him a cup of coffee, then went back to the stove, still muttering under her breath.
He was halfway through the meal when Sandy entered the kitchen.
She smiled at Nina, murmured a quick good morning, and sat down at the table across from Rafael. “You’re up early,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” he said. “Thank you for asking.”
His gaze met hers across the table and Sandy felt a rush of heat, as if she were being enfolded in a warm fuzzy blanket. His eyes were as blue as a high mountain lake and she felt herself drowning in their depths.
Nina set a plate in front of Sandy. “Best eat it while it’s hot.”
“What? Oh, yes.” Sandy picked up a piece of bacon, gave a little cry of pain when she burned her tongue.
“I told you it was hot,” Nina remarked.
Cheeks flaming, Sandy picked up her buttermilk and took several quick swallows.
Rafael placed his hand over hers. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine.”
“So, what problem would you like to solve first?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Last night you told me your problems and I promised to help.”
“Oh, right. Well, I don’t think you can help me today.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have cattle that need to be rounded up and calves that need branding, and fences that need to be mended.”
“Why don’t we get started after breakfast?”
“We?” Sandy lifted a quizzical brow. “Did they teach you about rounding up cattle at the Seminary?”
“What?”
“Have you ever branded a calf, or mended a fence?”
He stared at her a moment, and then smiled. “No, but I’m a quick study.”
Well, at least he was willing. And right now, she needed every pair of hands she could find.
“All right,” she said dubiously. “Let’s see what you can do.”
* * * * *
At the bunkhouse, she learned that two more men had quit, leaving her with five cowhands and the cook.
“Well, we’ll just have to work that much harder,” Sandy said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Chris, Matt, why don’t you ride south. Tex, you cover the north, and Jimmy Dee and I will ride the east fence.”
Chris pushed away from the wall. “Who’s the dude?”
Rafael drew himself up to his full height. “I’m the new foreman.”
Sandy looked at him, speechless.
“Is that right?” Chris said, his tone surly. “I sort of thought I’d be taking over as ramrod now that Hewlett was gone.”
“You thought wrong,” Rafael said evenly.
Chris’ gaze cut to Sandy. “He’s your new foreman?”
“Yes. This is Rafael.” She cleared her throat. “Jimmy Dee, why don’t you ride with Tex? I’ll ride with Rafe and show him around.”
“I ain’t takin’ no orders from this city slicker,” Chris said belligerently.
Sandy frowned. Rafe didn’t look like a dude. Clad in one of her father’s flannel shirts, a pair of faded Levi’s and boots, he didn’t look much different from the other men, except for his extraordinary good looks. And his hands, she thought. Those long-fingered hands didn’t look like they had ever done a day’s work.
“Me, either,” Matt said. “We got enough work to do without molly coddling some city slicker who don’t look like he knows a bull from a milk cow.”
“You’ll do as you’re told,” Sandy replied, “or you can draw your pay.”
Chris snorted. “We ain’t been paid in a month.”
Rafael took a step forward, his gaze sweeping over the men. “You will follow Miss Davis’ orders,” he said, his voice low yet strangely compelling. “Is that understood?”
Almost as one, the men nodded.
Rafael smiled. “Good. Go now, get to work.”
Sandy frowned as the men filed out of the bunkhouse, headed for the barn.
When they were alone in the bunkhouse, Sandy looked at Rafael. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
He looked at her askance. “Doing?”
“Telling my men you’re the new foreman? What right did you have to decide that? And even if you were qualified, which you aren’t, and even if I offered you the job, which I didn’t, aren’t they expecting you over at the church?”
“Ah, the church. Yes.” He looked thoughtful a moment, then smiled. “I shall simply advise the Reverend of my new calling.”
“Calling?”
“Job. My new job. As your foreman.”
“Which word didn’t you understand? You can’t be my foreman,” Sandy said. “You don’t know anything about cattle or running a ranch.”
“But you do. You tell me what needs to be done, and I shall see that the men do it.”
Maybe it was worth a try, Sandy mused, recalling how quickly the hands had obeyed him earlier.
She watched the men ride out of the yard, then turned to Rafael. “Have you ever ridden a horse?”
Rafael grinned at her. “Of course.” It was only a little white lie. He hadn’t actually ridden a horse, but he had ridden unicorns. How different could it be?
He followed her into the barn, thinking the building could use a new roof and a coat of paint. Inside, he realized that the whole building need
ed to be replaced.
“You know how to saddle one then, right?” Sandy asked.
“Saddle?” He frowned. “No.”
“No?”
“I’ve never used a saddle.”
“Well, you can’t rope cattle on a bareback pony,” Sandy said as she led a big brown gelding out of a stall. “Sometimes you find one caught in a bog, and you need to pull it out. You’ve got to have a saddle horn to dally the rope around.”
Rafael stared at her. “Dally?”
“Are you sure you’ve been on a horse before?”
Rafael nodded. “That’s a big one, isn’t it?” Unicorns, while strong, tended to be somewhat smaller.
Sandy closed her eyes. Please, Lord, give me patience. “Yes, Brownie’s big, but he’s very gentle. Come over here. Now, put your left foot in the stirrup. Do you need a boost?”
Rafael looked at her, one brow raised in amusement. “I think I can manage.”
Sandy stood back, arms crossed, as he swung agilely into the saddle.
“He seems even bigger from up here,” Rafael remarked, looking down at her.
“You’ll be fine.” Sandy quickly saddled her own mount and led it out of the barn. “Brownie’s bridle-wise, and very dependable. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. Just give him his head and he’ll follow me.”
Rafael nodded. He was accustomed to taking orders from females where he came from. Why did he find it so annoying now?
He watched Sandy swing gracefully, effortlessly, into the saddle. Her horse was a pretty little black mare with a white blaze and one white stocking.
Taking up the reins, Sandy put her heels to the mare’s flanks and headed toward the west pasture. Heidi crawled out from under the front porch and trailed after her.
Rafael rocked backward in the saddle as Brownie trotted after the mare.
Sandy glanced over her shoulder. It was all she could do to keep from laughing out loud when she saw the way Rafael was bouncing in the saddle.
“Ease up on the reins,” she called. “Relax your knees. Put your heels down. Elbows in toward your body. Sit down in the saddle and move with the horse. There, that’s better. Can you feel the difference?”
Masquerade and Other Tales Page 19