“Yes, I guess so.”
“I thought you said you’d ridden before?”
“I have,” he insisted. But the gait of a unicorn was much smoother than that of the horse beneath him. And his celestial body had been lighter, better balanced. This physical body felt heavy, awkward.
Sandy grinned at him. “Well, once you get used to riding in a saddle, it’s not so bad.”
Rafael grunted, certain he would never get used to this. It seemed a difficult way to get around. Far easier to think himself where he wished to be than sit atop a mountain of horseflesh, flopping around like a fish out of water, which was exactly what he was, he mused ruefully, and wondered why he had asked to be sent here, of all places, when he could have gone to any other planet in the galaxy.
Of course, he knew the answer. It was his pride, that same foolish pride that had been getting him in trouble for centuries. He had a feeling that this was more than a test, that he was about to be humbled once and for all.
He stared at the woman’s back and forced himself to relax. Heels down. Elbows in. Sit deep in the saddle. Concentrating on her instructions, he felt himself begin to move in rhythm with the horse. It was sort of like a rocking chair, he thought, and smiled as he realized that horseback riding was almost pleasant, though not as pleasant as watching the woman. He felt that unfamiliar heaviness in his groin again, and began to understand why lust was such a popular sin.
With an effort, he drew his gaze from the tempting sight of the woman’s backside and studied the landscape. Blue sky. Acres of gently rolling hills covered with tall green grass that was somehow reminiscent of an ocean. Clumps of scrub oak and willow. Wildflowers in rainbow colors. Yes, it was pretty for all that it was primitive.
Heidi bounded this way and that, flushing a rabbit here, a quail there.
Sandy reined her horse to a halt. “This stream is the western boundary between my land and Taylor’s.” Dismounting, she led her horse down to the water so it could drink. “Somebody is cutting my fences. I don’t have any proof, but I’m sure it’s Roger Taylor.”
Rafael eased himself out of the saddle and went to stand beside her. “Who is that?”
“The rancher across the river. He’s been wanting our land for years. He tried to buy it from my father, but Dad wouldn’t sell, and neither will I.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to simply sell the ranch?”
“Sell?” She looked at him as if he had suggested she barter her firstborn child. “Never! This is my home. I was born here. My family is buried here. I’ll burn the place down and poison the waterholes before I let Taylor have it!”
Rafael nodded. He didn’t intend for her to lose her home if she didn’t want to. Still, he was surprised by her vehement reaction. It was only a piece of land, after all.
Sandy let out a sigh that seemed to come from the soles of her feet. “If I don’t make a profit this year, he’ll be able to buy it from the bank.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Really? Do you have eight thousand dollars in your jeans?”
“No,” he said sadly. “I’m afraid not.”
“Too bad, ‘cause that’s how much it’s going to take to pay off the loan at the bank if they decide to foreclose. So far, they’ve let me pay the interest only, but I don’t think they’ll let me do that much longer. Not with Taylor standing in the wings, cash in hand.”
Gathering the reins in one hand, she stepped into the saddle. “Ready?”
With a nod, Rafael swung onto his horse’s back.
They found the first cut in the fence about a quarter of a mile away.
“Look at that,” Sandy said, a note of disgust in her voice. “And there, too.”
Rafael looked where she pointed. A trail of hoof prints led from Sandy’s side of the fence across the river.
“I wonder how many head have wandered over there this time,” she muttered. “And how many we’ll get back.”
“He will not return your cattle?”
“Oh, sure, he’ll return the ones that are branded. But he’s probably already slapped his brand on the calves.”
Rafael urged his horse toward the break in the fence.
“Where are you going?” Sandy asked.
“To find your cattle.”
“But that’s trespassing.”
Rafael frowned thoughtfully, then shrugged. “It is a lesser sin than stealing.”
She frowned at him, then followed him through the break in the fence. Maybe it was time to take back what was hers.
Chapter 4
The tracks led to a small canyon that made a natural corral for cattle. The opening was narrow so closing it off took no more than a couple of sturdy branches.
Sandy drew her horse to a halt. Although she couldn’t see the cattle, she could hear the anxious lowing of cows, the bawling of calves, smell the dust churned up by their hooves, and the acrid scent of singed hide.
“We’re too late,” she said, her voice filled with anger. “I’ll bet dollars to donuts they’re branding the calves. My calves!”
“Let’s go see,” Rafael said.
Riding forward, he lowered the branches and rode into the canyon.
“Rafael, wait!”
But it was too late. He was already inside. There was nothing to do but follow him. There were about forty brown and white cattle and perhaps half that many calves huddled at the far end of the canyon, perhaps a quarter of a mile from the entrance.
Sandy took it all in at a glance – the cowboy cutting a calf out of the herd milling against the back wall of the canyon, the two cowhands squatting near the fire, one of them holding a Circle T brand in his hand, the other holding a bawling calf.
Most of the cattle wore her brand. Most of the calves already wore the brand of the Circle T. She was too late.
The two cowhands near the fire looked up. She recognized both of them.
“What are you doing here?” Cal Jenkins demanded. “You’re on Circle T land.”
“What are you doing here?” Sandy asked, gesturing at the branding iron in his hand.
Troy Perry rocked back on his heels. He was a good-looking man, one who had asked her out on more than one occasion. She would have gone out with him if he hadn’t belonged to the enemy camp.
“Just branding our calves,” Perry replied with a lazy smile.
“Those are my cattle,” Sandy said, pointing at the herd. “And my calves.”
“Hey, you’re welcome to take any animals wearing your brand,” Troy Perry said with a shrug. “I’m just doing my job.”
With a curt nod, Sandy rode through the herd, cutting out all the cattle wearing her brand. She wasn’t surprised to find Circle T cattle mixed in with hers. But she was surprised to discover most of the calves wore her brand. And that was odd, she thought, because her men hadn’t branded their calves yet.
Whistling softly, she got the herd moving. “Sorry to have bothered you, boys.” She made a motion with her hand, and Heidi sprang into action, driving the cattle toward the entrance.
“Hey,” Jenkins called. “What do you think you’re doing? Those are Circle T calves.”
“Look again,” she said sweetly. “They’re all wearing my brand.”
“That’s impossible!” Jenkins said. A look of wonder passed over his face as he checked each calf.
“I told you they were my cows,” Sandy said. She looked over at Rafael. “Let’s go.”
Troy came striding toward them. “What’s going on?”
“I’m taking my cattle,” Sandy said.
“Your cattle?”
“Check the brand if you don’t believe me,” Sandy said.
“Don’t bother,” Jenkins said. “I already checked. They’re hers.”
Perry scratched his head, looking confused. “How can that…?”
“Shut up, Perry.”
Sandy glanced from one man to the other, then rode out of the canyon. When they were w
ell out of sight, she blew out a deep breath. “I don’t believe it,” she muttered. “It’s impossible.”
“What’s impossible?” Rafael asked.
“The calves.” She shook her head. “They’re all wearing my brand.”
“You said they were your cattle.”
“I know, but we haven’t branded this year’s crop yet.” She shook her head again. “How did my brand get there?”
Stifling the urge to smile, Rafael shrugged. “Perhaps your cowboys branded them without your knowledge.”
“Perhaps,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “Why don’ t you take the point and I’ll ride drag.”
Rafael frowned. “Point?”
“You ride ahead of the cattle, and I’ll ride in the back, with Heidi.”
With a nod, Rafael urged his horse to the front of the herd. If only Benjamin could see me now, he thought with a wry grin. Riding point. But the best part of the day had been seeing the surprise on Sandy’s face when she looked at the branded calves. It had been a small thing, changing the Circle T brand to that of the Rocking Double D.
He glanced back to make sure the cattle were still behind him, but it was the woman who drew his gaze. Sandy, with hair the color of a celestial sunset, eyes as green as new grass, and the smile of a seraph.
She waved at him. Just a wave of her hand, and yet that simple gesture went straight to his heart. What was it about her that touched him so? Would he have reacted to any mortal female the same way? Was it merely the reaction of the flesh and blood that encased his spirit? He knew humans were emotional creatures, often guided by feelings rather than good sense. Was it just the natural reaction of a healthy male body to the stimulus of an attractive female? If so, why hadn’t he been affected in the same manner by Nina Cassidy? She was female. She was pretty, in her own way. But he had felt nothing but casual friendship for the housekeeper.
A short time later, they reached the gap in the fence.
Rafael passed through first, then reined his horse to a halt to wait for Sandy. One by one, the cattle trotted through the opening.
When Sandy came through, she dismounted. After ground-reining her horse, she pulled on a pair of heavy work gloves and repaired the break in the fence.
“I should have done that,” Rafael muttered.
“Next time,” Sandy said.
He grunted softly. It wasn’t right, her doing all the work while he sat there and watched.
They spent the rest of the afternoon checking the fence line. They found three more breaks in the wire, but there was no sign that any of Sandy’s cattle had strayed.
It was dusk when they returned to the ranch.
Rafael groaned softly as he climbed out of the saddle. He hurt in places he had never hurt before. Taking hold of the rail, he climbed the steps and hobbled into the house.
Nina took one look at him and insisted he sit down. She shoved a cup of coffee toward him, then cut him a big slice of apple pie. “Eat that,” she said with the same air of command he had often heard from the angel Gabriel. “Then go upstairs and soak in a tub of hot water. Dinner will be ready when you’re done.”
He smiled his gratitude as he lifted the cup to his lips. He’d never had a hot bath, but it sounded relaxing.
And it was. Lying in the bathtub twenty minutes later, he wondered why they didn’t have hot baths in heaven. Of course, there was no real need to bathe. No one ever got dirty or sweaty strolling along streets of gold, or resting on a cloud. And they did have rivers and streams and pools of sparkling fish.
When the water started to cool, he warmed it again with a word, then leaned back and closed his eyes.
He was half-asleep when someone knocked on the door.
“Rafe? Dinner’s ready.”
He smiled at the sound of Sandy’s voice. “I’ll be right down.”
Stepping out of the tub, he glanced at his clothes, lying in a pile on the floor. Talk about sweaty and dirty, he thought with distaste. With hardly a thought, he left them on the floor and conjured himself something clean to wear.
Sandy was already at the table when he entered the dining room. She looked him up and down, then frowned. “New clothes?” she queried.
He nodded as he sat down at the table.
“Where did you get them?”
He blinked at her, only then realizing his mistake. “I, uh, borrowed them from one of the cowboys.” He sent a quick glance upward, praying he would be forgiven for yet another white lie.
“Oh,” she said. “Of course.”
Dinner passed pleasantly. Rafael listened as Nina and Sandy chatted about ranch business and people they knew, about the upcoming Fourth of July Dance at the Grange Hall the following Saturday night. Sandy lamented that she had nothing new to wear and that she couldn’t afford to buy a new dress and didn’t dare buy anything else on credit.
Rafael grinned inwardly. He was forbidden to give her riches, but conjuring a new dress shouldn’t be too difficult.
* * * * *
In the week that followed, Rafael learned what it meant to work hard, and what it meant to be so tired he could scarcely stay awake through dinner. Some nights he came home so dirty he could hardly abide his own stink. He got blisters on his hands, and experienced the miracle of birth when one of the cows threw a late calf.
And each day, as he worked beside Sandy, his feelings for her grew stronger, deeper, and more mystifying. Sometimes, the urge to hold her was almost overpowering and only the knowledge that it was a sin to be intimate with a woman outside of marriage – and strictly forbidden for him to even consider such a thing – kept him from touching her. But it didn’t keep him from thinking about her every waking minute, or dreaming about her when he was asleep.
One night, very late, he went into her room. She was so beautiful, it took his breath away. He had seen all the wonders of this world and other incomparable wonders throughout innumerable galaxies, yet nothing he had seen in this world or any other was as stunning or as captivating as this Earth woman. He stood by her bed for hours, admiring the way her glorious red hair framed her face. The faint blush of color in her cheeks, the shape of her mouth, the way the sheet rose and fell with every breath, the lush curves of her body…
Muttering a very unangelic oath, Rafael turned on his heel and fled the room.
Chapter 5
Sandy pulled off her boots and wiggled her toes. It was Saturday night. She had a hot bath waiting and she was determined to put all her worries behind her. No dwelling on bank loans or taxes. She was going to the annual Fourth of July Dance at the Grange and she was going to have a good time, even if she didn’t have anything new to wear.
After undressing, she stepped into the tub and closed her eyes. It would have been nice to have a new dress to wear for Rafe. He had never seen her in anything but worn jeans and shirts. Of course, there wasn’t much call for dressing up on the ranch. After all, the pigs and chickens didn’t care what you wore as long as you fed them, and you didn’t need fancy silks and satins when you were riding fence or pulling a calf out of a bog.
The few dresses in her closet were suitable for attending church services and funerals, but not for dancing, or drawing the eye of a certain tall drink of water. Her one party dress – a gorgeous lavender silk – had been ruined a few months ago when one of Zina Miller’s rowdy boys had thrown a ball of mud and manure at his brother and hit Sandy in the chest instead. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to completely remove the dirty brown stain. Zina had offered to buy her a new one, but Sandy had refused. Zina was a widow woman who was barely making ends meet as it was. It was all she could do to feed and clothe her own family. Buying Sandy a new frock would likely have taken food off Zina’s table, and that would never do.
Oh, well, Sandy thought. She would just have to make do with what she had. Her blue muslin was the newest and most flattering.
Sandy washed quickly, stepped out of the tub and toweled off, then opened her closet. And stared at
the dress hanging on the inside of the door. It was white with sprigs of navy blue flowers. The neckline was square, the sleeves short and puffy, the skirt full and perfect for dancing. Unable to believe her eyes, Sandy ran her hands over the material. Glancing down, she saw a pair of new shoes.
Where had the dress and the shoes come from? Slipping into her bathrobe, Sandy went downstairs in search of Nina. She found her in the kitchen.
“Nina, do you know where that dress in my closet came from?”
Nina turned away from the sink, drying her hands on a dish towel. “What dress?”
Nina shook her head. “Are you sure you didn’t order it? Mr. Emerson might have sent it out from town today while I was sitting with poor Mrs. Odell.”
“I wouldn’t forget a thing like that. And if you weren’t here, who would have put it my room?”
Nina shrugged. “Well, if you didn’t order it, then I don’t know where it came from.”
Frowning, Sandy went back upstairs. She ran her hand over the dress again, but there was nothing to indicate where it had come from. It was as if the dress had magically appeared out of thin air.
Never look a gift horse in the mouth, her father had always said. Maybe that applied to dresses, too.
* * * * *
When Sandy went downstairs forty minutes later, Rafe was waiting for her in the living room.
He whistled softly when he saw her. It was, she thought, the nicest compliment she had ever received.
“You look nice, too,” she said. And indeed he did. He wore a dark gray shirt and a pair of black whipcord britches that looked as if they had been made just for him. She wondered who Rafe had borrowed the pants and shirt from. To the best of her recollection, none of the cowboys owned anything as nice. And then she grinned inwardly. Maybe the shirt and pants had magically appeared in his closet, too.
“Shall we go?” he asked.
Sandy nodded. Nina had left a few minutes ago with Ralph Anderson, who owned the hotel in town.
The wagon was waiting out front. Rafe lifted Sandy onto the seat, then swung up beside her. Smiling, she handed him the reins.
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