He turned to look at her—even more stunning than she’d been a couple of hours before when he’d married her. If that were possible…

“Reed?” Alcina asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just thinking. Trying to shake the tension of the big day.”

Suddenly the moment was here and he was struck dumb. He had to say something to get the ball rolling.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything interfere with my…uh…my husbandly duties.”

She laughed. “Your what?”

“I know we both think of this marriage as a kind of business deal, but—”

“But what?” she asked, her amusement vanishing. “Are you saying that you’re willing to put yourself out to seal the deal, so to speak?”

Heck, he’d gone and said the exact wrong thing. He’d never been good with fancy words. He was better at doing. Stepping toward Alcina, he slipped his arms around her back and brushed her lips with his.

“You’re my wife now,” he said simply. “And we both have our…physical needs….”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

The thrills never stop at Harlequin Intrigue. This month, get geared up for danger and desire in double helpings!

There’s something about a mysterious man that makes him all the more appealing. In The Silent Witness (#565), Alex Coughlin is just such a man on assignment and undercover. But can he conceal his true feelings for Nicki Michaels long enough to catch a killer? Join Dani Sinclair and find out as she returns to FOOLS POINT.

The search for the truth is Clay Jackson’s only focus—until he learns the woman he never stopped loving was keeping the biggest secret of all…a baby. See why Intimate Secrets (#566) are the deepest with author B.J. Daniels.

Patricia Rosemoor winds up her SONS OF SILVER SPRINGS miniseries this month. Reed is the last Quarrels brother to go the way of the altar as he enters a marriage of convenience with the one woman he thought he’d never have, in A Rancher’s Vow (#567).

Finally, welcome multitalented author Jo Leigh as she contributes her first Harlequin Intrigue title, Little Girl Found (#568). She also begins a three-month bonanza of books! Look for her titles from Harlequin American Romance (June) and Harlequin Temptation (July). You won’t be sorry.

Gripping tales of mystery, suspense that never lets up and sizzling romance to boot. Pick up all four titles for the total Harlequin Intrigue experience.

Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

A Rancher’s Vow

Patricia Rosemoor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Patricia Rosemoor is the recipient of the 1997 Career Achievement Award in Romantic Suspense from Romantic Times Magazine.

To research her novels, Patricia is willing to swim with dolphins, round up mustangs or howl with wolves. “Whatever it takes to write a credible tale,” she says. She even went to jail for a day—as a guest of Cook County—to research a proposal.

Ms. Rosemoor holds a Master of Television degree and a B.A. in American literature from the University of Illinois. She lives in Chicago with her husband, Edward, and their three cats.

Books by Patricia Rosemoor

HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

38—DOUBLE IMAGES

55—DANGEROUS ILLUSIONS

74—DEATH SPIRAL

81—CRIMSON HOLIDAY

95—AMBUSHED

113—DO UNTO OTHERS

121—TICKET TO NOWHERE

161—PUSHED TO THE LIMIT

163—SQUARING ACCOUNTS

165—NO HOLDS BARRED

199—THE KISS OF DEATH

219—TORCH JOB

243—DEAD HEAT

250—HAUNTED

283—SILENT SEA

291—CRIMSON NIGHTMARE

317—DROP DEAD GORGEOUS

346—THE DESPERADO

361—LUCKY DEVIL

382—SEE ME IN YOUR DREAMS*

386—TELL ME NO LIES*

390—TOUCH ME IN THE DARK*

439—BEFORE THE FALL

451—AFTER THE DARK

483—NEVER CRY WOLF*

499—A LOVER AWAITS

530—COWBOY JUSTICE

559—HEART OF A LAWMAN**

563—THE LONE WOLF’S CHILD**

567—A RANCHER’S VOW**

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Reed Quarrels—He would do anything to save the ranch and win his father’s approval, even if it meant marrying the daughter of his father’s nemesis.

Alcina Dale—She agreed to a business arrangement with Reed, because she’d always loved him.

Emmett Quarrels—His manipulations were for naught this time.

Tucker Dale—His search for the truth led to danger.

Reba Gantry—The café owner knew too much.

Cesar Cardona—The developer was looking for his next land acquisition.

Vernon Martell—The neighboring rancher had no scruples when it came to increasing the size of his spread.

Hugh Ruskin—The bartender knew more than he should about everyone in town.

To my editor, Angela Catalano, for her patience

and understanding.

Thanks to my writing friends who went beyond the

call of duty and got me where I needed to be—

Catherine Andorka, Sherrill Bodine, Arlene Erlbach,

Cheryl Jefferson, Jody Lowenthal, Jude Mandell,

Sue Myers, Rosemary Paulas and Elaine Sima.

And special thanks to Linda Sweeney for jogging

my brain when it stalled out.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Prologue

Silver Springs, New Mexico

Curly-Q Ranch

For a moment, he glanced at Prudence Prescott Quarrels, who did look beautiful, he supposed, as all brides should on their wedding day.

“Congratulations!” He slapped the groom on the back. “You have yourself some new wife there.”

“Thanks.” Grinning like an idiot, Chance Quarrels pumped his hand. “I think so, too.”

“So what are your plans? Where are you gonna settle down?”

“Right here on the Curly-Q, of course.”

“Hmm. I thought your pa had a full house right now, with your brother Bart and his kids.”

“We’ll be staying with Pru’s sister until we work something out.” Chance was obviously distracted. “Listen, I’d better get back to Pru before she accuses me of deserting her again.”

“You go on then.”

Smiling to himself, he watched the unsuspecting cowboy hurry to his new wife’s side—he was a fool in love with no thoughts but those prompted by his youthful libido.

They would all be unsuspecting today, he knew, looking around at the crowd of more than a hundred. A day of celebration. Of giving thanks.

No one would be thankful before the night ended, however. He’d see to that.

He chuckled to himself as he moved to his vehicle through the knots of relatives and friends and neighbors, well-wishers all. They were also lambs, so to speak, without a suspicious thought in their heads.

And why should there be any doubt-sayers on such a glorious mid-November day?

He swept his gaze over the grounds until he found his real quarry. Emmett Quarrels. Look at him smiling, puffing out his chest in pride…

The fear of God had not been put into the old man yet. Unbelievable as it seemed, Quarrels was not getting the message that his situation was serious.

This message would be closer to home and delivered right under his nose. Under everyone’s noses. He’d be right in their midst and no one would be able to point a finger his way. No one would even suspect him.

That was the beauty of his plan.

From the back of his vehicle, he dug out the special wedding present that he’d hidden under a tarp and strolled along the buildings with the elegantly wrapped package tucked under one arm. No one even looked at him twice.

A very unique wedding present, indeed, he thought with a wry laugh.

They’d all get a blast out of it later.

Chapter One

The dog’s eyes no longer held suspicion when they gazed at him, but still she remained curled on the floor, shoulder wedged against the passenger seat, as Reed Quarrels pulled his truck onto the washboard dirt road that signaled the start of Curly-Q land.

He soon stopped, hopped out and swung open the metal pipe-and-wire gate to his past.

The dog limped along behind him and stopped to sniff around a twisted cypress. Reed didn’t rush her. Who knew how long she’d been starving and sick and wounded. He didn’t mind giving her a few minutes of privacy.

Fetching a jug of water from the back of the truck, Reed poured himself a cup. He took a long swallow and looked out over the New Mexican land he hadn’t seen in more than a year and which, a lifetime ago, he had mistakenly assumed would be his to run. He’d smartened up more than a dozen years ago, though, and had gone his own way.

Worn cedar and barbed-wire fences surrounded yellowing grasses. A handful of mostly white-faced cattle grazed nearby, and there were more, he knew, in the canyon below. Nearly sixty thousand acres of rich, volcanic-based grasslands as far as the eye could see were broken down into manageable, gated pastures. Reed swept his gaze over the high desert country—almost seven thousand feet—across the long-deserted mining area in the foothills, to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in the distance.

Closer—only a few feet away—the dog was staring at him expectantly. Reed refilled the cup and, hunkering down to her level, held it out. Her pointed nose dipped into the water, but her gaze never left his face.

“You trust me a little, huh?” he murmured.

In answer, her tail moved slightly, an imitation of a real wag.

“Poor girl.” He stared at her ragged, infected ear and only hoped she would trust him enough to let him take care of it later. He hadn’t tried touching her yet. “You’ve had a rough time, haven’t you? But your luck just changed. You can count on me to take care of things.”

Despite the hamburger he’d bought her earlier, the dog had a hungry look that he figured would stay with her a spell. So he fetched a piece of jerky from his jeans jacket. She practically swallowed it whole.

“That’ll have to do you for a little while. Shouldn’t eat too much all at once anyhow. You’d be sick.”

He rose and moved toward the pickup. The dog jumped in ahead of him and settled back on the floor. She’d ridden there all the way from the truck stop where he’d found her. Not that she’d come to him right off—she’d been terrified and he’d had to wait her out—the reason he’d missed his own brother’s wedding. Well, the ceremony, anyway, the celebration was undoubtedly just starting.

Or was the dog an excuse?

If not the dog, would he have found another reason to delay his homecoming?

Not because of Chance, though…

Reed moved the pickup to the other side of the fence, got out, closed the gate and clambered back behind the wheel, a ritual to be repeated all over the large ranch.

Howard Siles had summoned him in person. Pa’s lawyer had located all three of the Quarrels boys—each the sole fruit of one of Emmett Quarrels’s three disastrous marriages. The lawyer had given Reed the good news-bad news that had cut past his reluctance to bring him home.

The Curly-Q had been turned into a family corporation because Emmett Quarrels was dying.

Pa dying…

Reed could hardly believe it. The old man was too ornery to die.

But Chance was back. And Bart. Reed had called the ranch and had talked to his older half brother the week before only to learn that life on the spread wasn’t rosy. Lots of bad-luck incidents, as Pa liked to call them, one after the other, and the Curly-Q was broke, the mortgage in arrears.

Bart hadn’t elaborated, but Reed was uneasy, nevertheless. A sense of doom which he tried shaking away, hung over his head. The old feelings were crowding him, nothing more. He needn’t allow his imagination to run away with him over a couple of accidents.

So why didn’t he feel more relaxed?

The pickup lumbered past the scale house where cattle on the way to market would be weighed before being shipped off to auction. No cows or calves in the corral now, Reed noted. He hoped the calves hadn’t all been sold off. Beef prices were too damn low. They’d undoubtedly get more per pound in the spring, and the calves would be yearlings and weigh a lot more, as well. They were lucky that the heart of the protected canyon was prime grazing land, even in winter.

Reaching the piñon and ponderosa pine–limned rimrock, the road dotted with dark green cedar, rusting scrub oak and grayish juniper bush, Reed started the descent into the canyon cut by Silverado Creek, which twisted and turned and rushed across the Curly-Q. The vehicle dipped and bounced its way down hairpin curves, while red dust swirled around him.

The buildings spread out below, and beyond them, people spread out like a colony of ants. The wedding celebration was in progress.

As if nothing were wrong…

Things were wrong or he and his brothers wouldn’t have been summoned home, and Reed knew in his gut that the wrong went beyond Pa’s illness. If things didn’t come together right quick, the Curly-Q would be a thing of the past. But Bart was a lawman at heart, and Chance had been content alternating between day work and rodeoing for years. He was the only one who’d ranched all his life.

Now that Pa was incapacitated, Reed figured that without him, the spread would fast go back to desert. Or become part of another ranch. Or be divided and built on—another fancy housing development like that Land of Enchantment Acres he’d seen on the other side of Silver Springs. Ripe pickings for foreigners, he thought. Those southern Californians would move right in.

The Curly-Q needed him.

Pa needed him.

Reed wondered if the old man had figured that out, at last.

HEARING ANOTHER VEHICLE pull up beyond the ranch house, Alcina Dale turned away from Chance and Pru’s daughter only for a moment. Chance’s twelve-year-old niece, Lainey, had insisted on taking posed photographs of the happy couple before the party began in earnest, and Alcina had volunteered to watch the bride and groom’s little redheaded daughter.

And now she was watching for the man who hadn’t shown for his own brother’s wedding, she realized, chastising her foolish self and quickly returning her attention where it belonged.

Unfortunately, those few seconds of inattention had been more than enough time for the two-year-old to get herself into mischief. The toddler had headed straight to the nearby table that groaned with food for the wedding supper. She was now rocking on tiptoe and reaching both hands high over her head.

“Hope, honey, no!” Alcina cried as the toddler got her fingers on a platter piled with barbecued ribs.

She made a dive for the child as the platter wobbled and a couple of ribs slid off the mound and onto Hope. One slab zapped straight down the front of Alcina’s yellow dress that she’d bought to wear as Pru’s bridesmaid. Unhurt, Hope shrieked with laughter and lunged for her honorary aunt.

Alcina made her second mistake when she hauled the saucy little girl up into her arms.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, even as Hope laughed again, touching Alcina’s face and hair with sticky fingers.

“Maybe we should dunk the little hoyden in the horse trough and be done with it.”

This came from a laughing Felice Cuma. The housekeeper set another platter on the table—homemade enchiladas with green sauce. Felice had cooked her heart out for the wedding supper—fried chicken, pork tamales, posole, mashed potatoes, beans and more. She’d been the one to insist it be held here on the ranch so she could do for Chance, who was as much a son to her as if she’d given birth to him. Alcina knew Chance felt the same sort of love for Felice, who’d raised him after his biological mother had abandoned him.

Felice shook her head as she retrieved the fallen ribs. “Well, the dogs will get a treat,” she muttered, carrying the dust-covered meat away from the table and toward the stables where they’d been locked out of the way.

The wedding celebration was being held in the freshly mowed pasture directly behind the sprawling ranch house. A band was setting up by the portable dance floor across the way—once the music got going, everyone would no doubt dance until dark. Not much in the way of entertainment in these parts, Alcina thought, so she was certain the good citizens of Silver Springs would take advantage where they could.

Tables and chairs had been laid out, many under the cottonwoods, but at the moment, most of the hundred or so guests were milling about, getting drinks and talking up a storm. Luckily, the weather was with them. Though it was late November, the sky was a brilliant blue and the afternoon had warmed nearly to seventy.

Alcina was thinking that Chance and Pru couldn’t have asked for a more perfect wedding day, when she glanced up into a familiar set of brown eyes that warmed her from the inside.

“Reed,” she choked out, the breath catching in her throat, and she realized the vehicle she’d heard had been his.

She took a good long look at him. He was wearing creased tan trousers, polished snakeskin boots and a dress shirt buttoned to the throat and held there by a string tie with a jasper catch. He’d filled out some, but he wasn’t an imposing man, not like Bart or Chance. Still, he had his own brand of appeal.

“Alcina Dale. It’s been a long time,” Reed said, the quiet certainty of his voice that she remembered so well thrilling her after all these years.

He removed his pale gray Stetson to reveal neatly combed brown hair. Alcina’s mouth went dry. He still reminded her of a young Robert Redford—maybe not as pretty, but modestly handsome in his own right. He had that same dignity as Redford. That same quiet self-assurance.

But as he gave her situation with Hope a once-over, his dignity cracked and he ineffectually tried to smother his laughter with a cough.

Putting an embarrassed Alcina immediately on the defensive.

She’d thought about this moment for a long, long time, ever since she’d returned to Silver Springs. She’d imagined the moment she would come face-to-face with her first infatuation, a man who, as history had proved, would only see her as his older brother’s high-school friend.

She hadn’t imagined that she would be holding twenty-some pounds of wiggling trouble in her arms, that her dress would be streaked with sauce, that her hair and face would be as sticky as a mischievous little girl’s hands.

Chagrined, she stiffly said, “It has been a while.” More than a dozen years. “Obviously, there was nothing here for you before.”

Reed’s smile evaporated and Alcina realized he might have taken her wrong. She’d meant herself—that he wouldn’t have come back because of her. Instead, she feared, her words had come out sounding like a criticism of his motives, his father being near death’s door and all.

Reed set his hat back in place. “I think I’d better tend to my family…and let you tend to yours.”

“Family?” she echoed, even as Hope wrenched around in her arms and squealed to be let down. “You mean Hope…oh, no, she’s not mine. This is your brother’s child, Reed. Chance and Pru’s. She’s your niece. Hope, honey, say hello to your uncle Reed.”

Alcina couldn’t help herself. The devil made her do it. She offered the sticky child to the middle Quarrels brother. Reed hesitated only a second before taking her. He certainly didn’t seem squeamish about having a child in his arms, Alcina realized.

The two studied each other for a moment. Hope’s expression became as intent as her uncle’s, and Alcina was struck by a resemblance she hadn’t expected to see.

And for a moment, her stomach fluttered as she imagined Reed holding his own child. Their child.

Nonsense!

She was a little old to have kids. At thirty-seven, her biological clock had almost run out of time. Besides, she had her status as the town spinster to uphold…even if the designation wasn’t exactly accurate.

“So you’re Hope,” Reed said. “I’ve heard about you.”

The little girl seemed as mesmerized by his smooth-whiskey voice as she was, Alcina thought. She clenched her jaw and told herself to stop salivating.

Reed Quarrels had never been attracted to her. He’d preferred spunky little tomboys who sat a horse well and knew all about beeves.

Suddenly shy, Hope turned her face away from Reed’s and shrieked, “M’ma!”

“Mama’s coming, sweetheart!”

Alcina noted that Pru and Chance were headed straight for them, other members of the Quarrels family following—Emmett, and Bart and his kids, Lainey and Daniel. A regular family reunion.

One to which she didn’t belong.

Knowing when she wasn’t needed, Alcina backed off unnoticed as Reed was surrounded. She headed for the house and a bathroom where she could clean up. Josie Walker, the Curly-Q wrangler and Bart’s woman, was coming outside, carrying a big basket of corn bread.

Eyes widening, she asked, “What happened to you?”

“Hope.”

“Ah-h.” Josie nodded in understanding and looked past her. “So what’s the big commotion? Is that who I think it is?”

“It’s Reed.”

“I’m so glad. Bart said he’d show.”

Alcina didn’t miss the inflection in Josie’s voice at Bart’s name—the woman was love struck. They would already be married if it weren’t for his kids, who were still getting over their mother’s tragic death the year before. Alcina admired the couple’s patience. Josie and Bart were doing the right thing, giving the kids time to get used to the relationship.

Josie gave her a pointed look. “So, Reed’s back—why are you hightailing it in the opposite direction?”

Pru had a big mouth, Alcina thought. It was one thing when her best friend teased her about her schoolgirl infatuation. Another when she got other people into the act…though to be fair, Josie was the only one Pru had told. As far as Alcina knew, anyway.

“I said hello,” Alcina said, voice stiff.

“Uh-oh. Doesn’t sound like it went well.”

“With Reed, it never does.”

“We’ll have to work on that.”

“Josie, don’t try to play matchmaker,” Alcina pleaded. “And if Pru comes up with any bright ideas about getting Reed and me together, I would appreciate your discouraging her.”

“Oh, come on—”

“I’m serious. You have enough on your plate to take care of, anyway,” Alcina said.

Things were working out so well between Josie and Bart’s kids that Alcina figured it wouldn’t be much longer before the couple made their relationship official.

“Let me give you some advice,” Josie said. “Real love doesn’t come around that often. And neither does a good man, as I very well know. So if you want Reed and you get a shot at him, take it. If you don’t, you’ll always wonder what might have been.”

Josie had a point when it came to the good man part. But, as to her getting a shot at Reed…

The man barely knew she existed.

REUNITED WITH HIS FAMILY, Reed kept taking in Pa with disbelief. Emmett Quarrels was smaller than Reed remembered—they were about the same height now—and he’d lost weight in the past year. The shock of white hair and faded blue eyes were nothing new, but the sunken cheeks and sagging skin were, and they made him look older than his seventy years.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Son.” Pa’s declaration was followed by a dry cough that set Reed on edge.

“Hey, I thought this was my wedding,” Chance complained.

“Don’t be getting on your high horse here, Boy,” Pa said. “You know what I mean.”

If Chance was angry, he wasn’t showing it. He and Pru were beaming in their happiness.

“I meant to be at the church,” Reed told them both apologetically. “I really did. But there was something I had to take care of at the last minute on the Evergreen, so I started off late, and then I ran into a problem on the road.”

“You’re here now, Reed,” Pru said. “That’s all that counts, right, sweetheart?”

Chance flashed his teeth in a sincere-looking smile. “You bet, darlin’, that’s good enough for me.”

The brothers threw their arms around each other in a manly hug. Reed was relieved that Chance accepted his regrets without questioning him about his actual situation.

“Congratulations, Chance. Do I get to kiss the bride now?”

“Only if you keep it short and sweet.”

“Pru, welcome to the family,” Reed said, hugging her and giving her a quick kiss. “Finally.”

Which was all he would say on the matter. Considering their daughter was nearly two years old, it was about time his brother made an honest woman of Pru.

“Good to see you, Reed,” Bart said, slapping him on the back. “And it’ll be good working together again.”

Together? Or would he be working for Bart?

Another thing that ate at Reed, though he kept that to himself, as well.

A few minutes of catch-up and his niece Lainey was agitating for photographs of the three brothers together.

“Better be careful,” Reed’s sixteen-year-old nephew Daniel warned them. “Lainey thinks she’s an artist. She might make you do some weird stuff.”

“You’re the weirdo,” Lainey told her brother.

Reed grinned. The siblings reminded him of Chance and Bart when they’d been kids.

As Lainey painstakingly photographed them in several different poses, Reed’s attention wandered a bit. He kept musing on Alcina’s whereabouts.

Always the proper lady with every hair in place, she’d shown him a new side of herself today. A side that had intrigued him. He’d remembered her as being prissy—actually, she’d gotten a little prissy earlier when he’d laughed at her. She’d been so natural with Hope, though, not worrying about her own finery. Seeing her like that had roused his curiosity.

“Uncle Reed, you’re not paying attention!” Lainey complained. “You’ve got to smile.”

Reed did his best to please her.

One more photograph and Chance said, “Okay, that’s it for now, Lainey. We’d best get to the grub quick, before all those old bachelor cowboys who are normally deprived of good home-cooking get in line for seconds. Then we’ll starve to death.”

Having noted the huge quantity of food laid out, Reed thought that was a gross exaggeration. And, even though the brothers were the last to reach the buffet table, none of them would go hungry.

Undoubtedly Chance was anxious to get back to his new bride and daughter, and Reed could hardly blame him.

He admitted to a bit of healthy jealousy as he watched Chance rejoin Pru and kiss her as if they’d been apart for years instead of mere minutes. Somehow that kind of love had never come his way. Working six or seven days a week as he usually did, Reed doubted that he would ever have time to look for it, either. Maybe he was destined to be another old bachelor cowboy.

The band started up as he filled his plate with Felice’s finest. Reed dipped his head in time to the music. He looked over to the dance floor as Pru and Chance stepped up, followed by two other couples. So much for his brother’s appetite, Reed thought, grinning to himself.

His plate in hand, Reed was leaving the buffet, when he felt as if he was being watched. The short hairs at the back of his neck shot to attention. Warily, he turned to meet the gaze of a burly man with pale eyes and a white buzz cut. Then Reed realized the man was standing behind the makeshift bar. It was only the bartender, for pity’s sake.

The man waved him over with one hand, lifted an empty glass with the other.

Feeling foolish, Reed complied.

“You must be brother number three. Hugh Ruskin—I tend bar over at the Silver Slipper.”

Ruskin held out a hand heavy with expensive rings that Reed wouldn’t expect to see on a bartender. He gave the man a quick shake.

“Reed Quarrels. That old saloon is still going, huh?”

“A man’s got to have a place to quench his thirst, even in a small town like Silver Springs,” Ruskin said. “So what’s your pleasure?”

“Whatever’s on tap will do.”

Ruskin filled a mug. “I hear you’ve been working up in Colorado, running the show on some spread ten times the size of this one.”

“For the past few years,” Reed agreed, wondering why he should be the focus of town gossip. “Though someone exaggerated the size of the Evergreen.”

“Still, when you’re used to running a major operation like that one…”

Ruskin was peering at him closely as if waiting for him to spill his guts. Say how unhappy he was to be back or something. Reed figured the bartender got some kick out of keeping his finger on the pulse of the town, having juicy tidbits to spread around to his patrons.

Could the man really know about his hesitancy at returning? About the problematic dynamics between him and Bart? Or was he just fishing?

Not about to fuel any gossip, Reed picked up his mug and sipped the head off the beer. “You know what they say…nothing like home.”

Something flashed through the other man’s pale eyes. Something that unsettled Reed.

And the bartender’s thumbs-up sign and his “Gotcha there, my friend,” seemed a little forced.

Wondering about Hugh Ruskin—where he came from, what he was doing tending bar in a backwater town like Silver Springs—Reed saluted him with the beer and left the bar. Uneasy still, he made a mental note to ask Bart or Chance about the bartender later.

In the meantime, he quickly scanned the crowd until he spotted Alcina, who was sitting at the end of a table under a couple of big cottonwoods. Her long fingers with perfectly manicured nails were worrying the stem of a wineglass as if she was distracted. The plate before her was half-empty and pushed far enough in front of her to indicate she’d finished eating.

Her golden-blond hair was pulled up into a French twist, but fine wisps curled at her temples and down her long, elegant neck, which was circled by a single strand of pearls. He’d bet they were real, too. Her finely cut profile was free of the barbecue sauce that had decorated it earlier. A lovely woman, indeed, Reed thought appreciatively, not having seen her the last time he’d come home for a visit. The seat next to her was vacant.

He hesitated, mulled over the advisability of the notion that struck him, and in the end, headed for her table.

Listening to Reba Gantry, the flamboyant owner of Reba’s Café, who was waving around a half-empty whiskey glass—she could drink nearly as much as a man and often did—Alcina didn’t even notice his approach until he asked, “Mind if I join you?”

She started, her gray eyes widening on him for a moment. Recovering quickly, she indicated the empty chair. “It’s your spread.”

“Only by default.” He set down his plate and mug and slid into the vacant seat, where he got a better look at her finery. “You cleaned up real nice, but it looks like Hope ruined your party dress for good.”

She shrugged. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Some women would think so.”

“Good thing I’m not some women.”

Good thing, Reed agreed, digging into Felice’s homemade enchilada, Alcina interesting him even more than before. He realized how little he knew about her even though they’d grown up in the same town. Then, he hadn’t been interested in an older woman—to a teenage boy, three years difference in age had been a whole generation. Now three years was nothing.

“We missed you at the church,” Reba said, taking a swig of whiskey and holding it in her mouth for a moment.

“Something came up,” he said vaguely, swallowing a mouthful of posole. “Mighty fine duds there.”

He admired the café owner’s ability to pull off wearing such an eye-popping rose-trimmed purple dress. Then, as he remembered, Reba had always had a natural flair for the dramatic.

“You’re looking fine yourself, honey,” Reba said. “It’s real good to see you again.” She indicated the big man who sat next to her. “I’d like to introduce you to my dear friend, Cesar Cardona.”

“Howdy,” Reed said.

Cardona looked to be in his late forties, a quantity of silver lightening his thick dark hair and full mustache. Wearing a black suit, the short jacket trimmed with silver braid and silver and turquoise conchos, he was definitely Reba’s male counterpart, Reed thought with amusement.

But Reed’s enjoyment faded when the café owner said, “Cesar is bringing new life and jobs to the area around Silver Springs. He’s a land developer—”

“Let me guess,” Reed cut in, giving the newcomer a piercing stare. “Land of Enchantment Acres.”

Cardona’s teeth flashed white against his sun-warmed skin. “So you’ve heard of us.” The meatiness of the hand he reached across the table was softened by a heavily jeweled watchband.

Taking it, though reluctantly, Reed realized the raw power of the big man. “Saw the sign driving in. I can hardly believe Gonzalez sold. His family owned that land for nearly two hundred years.”

“That land kept Luis Gonzalez poor.”

“I guess it depends on your definition of poor,” Reed argued. “Being land-rich in God’s country in this part of New Mexico goes a long way to making up for the things a man can’t afford to buy himself.”

Cardona shrugged and spread his hands. “Well, now Luis can buy whatever he wants.”

“I wonder what that might be,” Reed muttered, stabbing his fork into the mashed potatoes.

While Gonzalez’s spread had been small—little more than four thousand acres—ranching was the only life the man had ever known and he was barely fifty. What would he do with his days for the next twenty years? Reed himself couldn’t imagine working at anything but ranching, which occupied his whole being. When he got busy, he might not even get into town for weeks and never once miss it.

As if she sensed his rising tension over the matter, Alcina veered the discussion in a slightly different direction. “Are the new properties selling well, Cesar?”

“Like hotcakes,” the developer said, grinning. ‘I can’t get the houses built fast enough.”

Suddenly losing his appetite, Reed asked, “So we’re in for how many new people in the area?”

“I sold off nearly half the acreage to the VM Ranch, so there’ll only be about twenty new families—people who have always wanted a real piece of the West for themselves. I’m not raping the land if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m keeping properties at a minimum of a hundred acres.”

“Sounds sensible,” Alcina said. “And good for Silver Springs.”

Gut tightening, Reed didn’t say anything.

Luis Gonzalez would never have sold an acre to Vernon Martell, a virtual newcomer to Silver Springs. The Hispanic ranchers in the area were tight-knit and didn’t sell their land to Anglos. Martell had gotten around that through Cardona, whose only loyalty obviously was to the almighty dollar.

“Actually, I’m already looking around for another spread,” Cardona went on. “Got to plan ahead.”

Reed didn’t like the way the man was looking around at the Curly-Q, as if he was already viewing it as a commodity and planning on subdividing it next.

“The Curly-Q’s not for sale,” he said quietly but firmly. “So don’t go getting any ideas about this place.”

Reed was dead serious, but Cardona laughed.

“Everything’s for sale, my friend. You merely gotta figure out the right incentive to get what you want.”

As far as Reed was concerned, that ended the conversation.

Reba put a beringed hand on her escort’s shoulder. “Cesar, honey, I sure am in the mood for a dance.”

Cardona immediately got to his feet and helped her out of her chair. “I’d never say no to holding you in my arms.”

Reba swayed a little as if the drinking had caught up to her. Then she shook herself straight and headed for the dance floor.

They’d barely left the table when Alcina spoke up, her tone indignant. “I’m surprised at you, Reed Quarrels. You never used to be so rude!”

Chapter Two

Startled, Reed stared at Alcina. “What’s rude about speaking my mind?”

It was something he usually avoided. He didn’t know what had gotten into him.

Yes, he did, Reed admitted.

Truth be told, his whole way of life was being threatened by men like Cardona. Ranches all over the West were being sold off and carved up into smaller properties. Peoples’ lifelong dreams were being stolen away from them, and with the economy so poor for those that lived off the land, there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it.

A man practically had to have another job to support his ranch habit. Or his wife did.

“The area needs new blood,” Alcina said, “or Silver Springs will die.”

“It is dead. Has been for years. It’s a ghost town, but certain people don’t want to let it go.”

“Which includes your father,” she reminded him. “Emmett wants to see it come back. So do I.”

So did he, for that matter, not that he would admit it now.

“I heard you opened yourself a business,” he said, instead, “inviting people who don’t belong here to come this way.”

“You mean tourists?” she asked, a sudden chill in her tone. “What’s wrong with letting people from other parts of the country see how beautiful this area is…and my making a living off their interest.”

“Because then they get too interested and want to move right in on our territory.”

“Well, good for them. And good for us. Time doesn’t stand still, Reed, no matter how much you might want it to. Things change. Businesses change. People change—”

“Including you?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Just that I’m surprised you came back to Silver Springs at all,” Reed admitted. “Why did you? I figured you fit right in on the East Coast with your mother’s people.”

Emotions washed through her face so quickly he imagined he might have upset her.

“Are you saying I don’t fit in here?” she demanded.

“Do you?”

“Not everyone has to be a rancher or a rancher’s wife to love the high-desert country. Silver Springs used to rely on the silver mine, but it dried up years ago and so did the town. And so did anything resembling a life for me here.”

Alcina was working up a head of steam as she spoke. Reed couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her heightened color and the way her features so quickly became animated, making her appear even more beautiful.

“But there is hope, Reed,” she went on hotly, “and that hope is new blood and new ideas. So what if my way of being able to live here meant turning our old home into a bed-and-breakfast? It was that or drive into Taos or some other town that’s at least solvent to make a living. Then I would be commuting again and…oh, never mind.”

Alcina shoved herself from the table and rose. Reed hadn’t meant to insult her into leaving, but he figured she was through listening, for the moment, anyway. Besides, he’d said too much as it was. Normally, he kept his nose out of other people’s business and his opinions to himself where they belonged.

If he had, she might not be stalking away from him in disgust, her patrician nose in the air.

More than anything, Reed craved peace in his life, no doubt a reaction to his fractious childhood. He’d grown up in a household where his father and two brothers had constantly warred with each other. Reed had vowed he never would live like that again.

So why was he finding the outspoken woman so attractive? Reed wondered.

He forced himself to remain seated rather than follow her. He could use a woman in his life, true, but he could do without Alcina Dale.

Disgusted at how his supper conversation had turned sour, Reed tried to muster his appetite in vain. Half of the food he’d piled on his plate would be wasted.

Then he remembered the dog.

After throwing away the bones and scraping away some of the spicier stuff, he was satisfied that the leftovers would do. He found an empty bowl, filled it with water, then headed back toward his truck.

On the way, he spotted Pa near the house, deep in conversation with Vernon Martell, whom he’d met on his last visit home. The man was alone, his wife being an invalid who rarely got out. Reed meant to say howdy.

The neighboring rancher was a hearty man, tall and broad-shouldered, not trim, but not heart-attack material, either. In his mid-forties, he wore his light brown hair short, and his equally light brown eyes peered through fashionable titanium-framed bifocals. He was plain dressed—at least compared to Cardona—but he appeared equally well-heeled from the looks of his custom boots, chamois sports coat and heavy diamond-studded gold cuff links that said a lot about his healthy bank account.

Drawing closer, he heard Martell say, “I’m in the market to expand the VM.”

“You already did with that land you got from that developer fella.”

The tone of the conversation stopped Reed in his tracks.

Vernon Martell was new to the area, so to speak, having lived in these parts little more than a year. Denizens of the community were considered in terms of generations, or at least decades, rather than in months or years. Besides which, Martell had picked up a ranch that had folded under economic stress dirt cheap—a foreclosure—and that didn’t win any popularity contests. Neither would his buying a chunk of Luis Gonzalez’s land.

“That was a start,” Martell agreed, “but I’m not finished.”

Instinct made Reed stay where he was, a few yards behind the men. Wanting to hear what they had to say, he chose not to interrupt.

“You must’ve had a better year than the Curly-Q.” Emmett Quarrels narrowed his gaze on his neighbor. “What did you have in mind?”

“Your southernmost pastures—they adjoin the land that belonged to Gonzalez.”

“So what’s your point?”

“That we could both come out ahead,” Martell said magnanimously. “Me with a little more land, you with enough money so that you don’t lose the rest.”

“I’m not losin’ nothing.”

“That’s not the word going around. Word is that Tucker Dale is ready to foreclose—”

“Gossip is fodder for old women with nothing better to do!” Emmett snapped, cutting him off.

Reed could hardly believe it. Tucker Dale, Alcina’s father and Pa’s longtime former business partner, threatening Pa with ruin.

Martell persisted. “So the rumors aren’t true?”

“It’s none of your business. Unless…you wouldn’t know anything about the bad-luck incidents plaguing the Curly-Q lately?”

“Are you accusing me of something?”

Pa seemed to be mulling that over, Reed realized, after which he choked out, “All I’m saying is that I expect you should mind your own spread and keep your nose out of mine!”

With that, Pa stomped off. Martell stared after him for a moment before turning and coming face-to-face with Reed. Their gazes locked. The other rancher was the first to look away. He waved to some invisible acquaintance and stalked off in the other direction.

Leaving Reed uneasier than ever. He’d known the Curly-Q was in trouble from his talk with Bart. But the seriousness of the situation suddenly hit him hard.

His gut told him that he’d walked back into a worse hornet’s nest than he’d left more than a decade ago.

“EVERYTHING IS SET for your honeymoon night,” Alcina told Pru when they met directly outside the ranch house, where she’d gone to regroup after her cross words with Reed.

“This is so great of you, so special.” Pru pushed the red curls from her freckled face, gave Alcina a big hug.

“Special for a special friend,” Alcina said.

She’d decked out the best suite at her bed-and-breakfast—the Springs—with dozens of candles, special scented bubble bath for the Jacuzzi and rose petals strewn across the spread. She’d also left a bottle of champagne set in a big bucket of ice next to the bed. Hopefully, it would still be cold when the newlyweds arrived—a lot of hours had passed, and it was already dusk.

“The spare key is in the cactus pot to the right of the front door,” she reminded Pru. “Don’t let Chance get bit,” she joked as if she meant the cactus, “unless you do the biting, of course.”

Laughing, Pru said, “A little privacy right now sounds like the best wedding present in the world.”

Newlyweds living with the bride’s family until other arrangements could be made wouldn’t be easy on any of them, Alcina knew, and they were saving their honeymoon for the National Rodeo Finals to be held in Las Vegas, Nevada, in two weeks. She was happy to do this for Pru and Chance. She only wished she could let them have the bed-and-breakfast to themselves all night, but there was no place in town for her to bunk in, and Josie couldn’t really stay with Bart because of his kids. At least no other guests were checked in—not that Alcina couldn’t use more business.

“You’ll have several hours alone, anyway, so you can get as wild as you want,” Alcina teased. “Josie and I will give you fair warning when we come in—we’ll make lots of noise.”

Pru’s eyebrows arched as she said, “Maybe if you’re lucky, that’ll be really, really late.”

“How late do you want me to be?”

“As late as a certain Quarrels brother will keep you happily occupied.”

Knowing what Pru was getting at, Alcina felt her grin fade. “You’re dreaming.” Thinking of the argument she’d had with Reed earlier, she said, “I’m the last woman Reed Quarrels would want to keep out late.”

“I don’t know. He was looking pretty interested.”

“Was being the operative word. And then I opened my big mouth.” Alcina sighed and wondered if she should have listened to his opinions and held her own, something she’d never gotten used to doing. “No man likes to hear a woman rant while he’s held captive like a pinned butterfly.”

“Hmm, sounds pretty darn interesting if you ask me.” Coming up from behind them, Chance slipped an arm around his new wife’s waist. “Making exotic plans for the evening, are you, Miss Prudence?”

Pru blushed and smacked him in the chest with the flat of her hand.

“Want to play rough, huh?” He grinned and arched one eyebrow. “How about we—”

“Enough already!” Alcina said with a laugh. “Too much information. I don’t need any more details. And I think the two of you had better get out of here so you can be alone before you embarrass everyone.”

Chance grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Not until we observe the formalities,” Pru countered.

The formalities being the cake cutting and garter and bouquet throws, Alcina knew.

But first Pru wanted to freshen up. And Chance followed her inside the house, meaning the formalities wouldn’t commence for some time yet.

Alcina started off, intending on rejoining the party, when she realized that she’d be on the sidelines watching couples dance. Forget that, she chose to take herself for some solitary exercise instead.

With dusk came a chill in the high-desert air. Alcina wrapped the scrap of material that matched her dress around her shoulders closer. Good thing she’d fetched it while in the house.

As she strolled behind the storage building that also held the living quarters of the only permanent hand on the Curly-Q, a loud thump startled her.

“Moon-Eye?” she called out.

But if the hired hand was around, he must not have heard, because he didn’t answer.

On edge, she rounded the storage building and looked for the hired hand. Deep shadows thrust across the property, so it was difficult to make out details at any distance. Still, a movement from the back of the barn caught her attention. Of course it must be Moon-Eye—who else?—though she couldn’t actually see the man well enough to be certain.

Alcina guessed chores on a ranch didn’t wait, not even for a wedding. She thought to join the hired hand, to keep him company for a few minutes, when a voice coming from the opposite direction distracted her.

“C’mon…I know you want it…”

A man’s enticing voice.

“That’s it, sweetheart…”

Reed’s voice.

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

Alcina’s mouth went dry at the seductive tone.

“I told you it would be…”

Who in the world was out here with him? Alcina wondered, her imagination on overdrive. Like a fool, she found herself wanting the full picture.

“More, yes…take it all…”

Shocked by the implication and yet drawn like a moth to a flame, she came close enough to see for herself.

And then her face flamed with her foolishness.

For, hunkered down next to his truck, Reed was hand-feeding a wretched-looking brown and white dog with a torn ear. The moment the animal spotted her, it backed off toward the pickup, cowering.

“You scared her,” Reed stated. “Damn! And I was just getting her to come around.”

Alcina ignored the blame placed on her and murmured, “Oh, no, girl, you don’t need to be afraid of me,” crouching also and holding out a nonthreatening hand.

Aware of Reed staring at her, Alcina grew self-conscious, but she didn’t want to scare the dog further and so stayed exactly as she was. Barely a moment went by before the animal ventured forward to smell her fingers.

“You poor thing,” Alcina said, turning her hand so the dog lightly nuzzled her palm. In the same tone, she asked Reed, “Where did she come from?”

“Not here. I found her on the road—the reason I was late. I’d never ask you to lie, but if you wouldn’t tell Chance…”

She remembered him being honest to a fault, so his keeping something like that from his brother was a big deal. Reed confiding in her… Warmth flooded Alcina.

“I think Chance would understand, but I’ll keep mum.”

She’d always known Reed was a kind man. Without thinking, she stroked the dog’s neck, then continued petting her, running a hand down a bony spine.

Suddenly catching herself, Alcina murmured, “Oh, sorry.”

She expected the dog to slither away and was surprised when it moved closer for more.

“She must trust you,” Reed said.

Alcina ran gentle fingers along the animal’s protruding ribs. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“I didn’t mean that to sound judgmental. It’s just that she’s so skittish.”

Suddenly feeling a little skittish herself, Alcina met Reed’s gaze and realized that he was staring at her. His expression was appreciative. And puzzling.

“What?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Most women wouldn’t have touched a dog that looked scruffy and sick.”

“I’m not—”

“Most women,” he finished for her. “I remember.”

Getting to her feet, Alcina asked, “So what’s her name?”

“I don’t know. She’s not my dog.”

A disbelieving Alcina cleared her throat.

“She’s not.” Reed rose, as well. “But I intend to find her a good home.”

From the way the dog was looking at him so adoringly, Alcina figured she’d already found herself one—her new owner obviously hadn’t realized it yet.

“In the meantime,” she said, “you have to call her something.”

“What’s wrong with Girl?”

“Not very personal.”

“Then what do you suggest?” he asked.

“You want me to name your…uh, her?”

“Why not? It’s only temporary.”

“Right, temporary.” Alcina looked deep into the dog’s liquid brown eyes. “Hey, Temporary.”

The dog whistled through her nose and gave a sharp bark.

“I think she likes it,” Alcina said.

Reed snorted. “Temporary? Come on, that’s a ridiculous name for a dog.”

“Then you name her.”

For a moment, she thought Reed might take her challenge. Then he shrugged.

“Temporary it is.”

Alcina grinned. They stood there grinning at each other for a moment before she remembered the festivities. She’d only meant to kill a few minutes and had lost track of time.

“I think we’d better get back if we want to send the bride and groom off with our best wishes,” she said.

“That means it’s time for you to get back into the pickup,” Reed told the dog.

He patted her and opened the door. She stood there looking at him.

Giving her a hand signal, he said, “C’mon, Temporary, get in.”

The dog jumped into the truck and onto the driver’s seat where she settled, her adoring gaze still on Reed.

“You’re her hero,” Alcina murmured.

“I only did what any decent person would do.”

She knew that wasn’t true. The world was filled with decent folks. But the dog obviously had been on her own for a while now. Only a really caring person would have taken the time and trouble with her that Reed had.

With the dog settled, they hurried back to the party to find the wedding cake had already been cut, and the unmarried men were being urged to step up for the garter toss.

Nearly two dozen men, mostly old bachelor cowboys, got into the spirit of the competition. Moon-Eye was at the front of the line, she noted; he must have finished his chores. Even Bart and Reed jostled each other good-naturedly as one of the musicians beat a tattoo on his drum.

Chance took a quick look over his shoulder, and Alcina was certain he aimed directly for Bart, who was committed, if not yet officially engaged, to Josie Walker.

Only, Reed was the one who ended up with the garter on his arm.

Alcina tried to sit out the bouquet throw, but Pru wouldn’t hear of it. Certain her friend would send the spray of flowers Josie’s way, Alcina gave in and moved to the opposite side of the much smaller group of women, the oldest of whom was Felice, the youngest Lainey.

When the bouquet wound up in her own hands, Alcina was floored.

Pru turned to face her, a sly grin quirking her lips, and Alcina knew her friend had sent the flowers her way purposely. What in the world was she thinking?

Just then, the band started a lively tune.

“Well, isn’t this an interesting development,” Pru said, drawing closer, Chance in tow. She shifted her mischievous gaze from Alcina to Reed.

“You really shouldn’t have,” Alcina muttered.

A challenging glitter in his eyes, Reed asked, “Alcina Dale, where’s your spirit of fun?”

And before Alcina knew what was happening, he’d swung her into his arms for a dance.

As they did the Texas two-step, the newlyweds grabbed hands and rushed through the dancing crowd. Catcalls about their wedding night and handfuls of birdseed followed them. Alcina watched them go with a bit of envy, the emotion exacerbated, no doubt, by the man who wrapped his arms around her.

“Amazing, Chance settling down,” Reed said. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“People do strange things when the love bug bites them.”

Alcina was only too aware of something nibbling at her.

After the disagreement that had punctuated their reunion, who would have thought she would end up in Reed’s arms? Being there felt too good for her peace of mind, Alcina decided. He was merely getting into the spirit of the occasion, while she was feeling things that made her chafe.

She wasn’t a teenager anymore…not even a young woman…so what was her problem?

While she’d thought of Reed fondly through the years, she hadn’t kept herself on a shelf waiting for him to realize that she was the one for him. She’d gone on with her life, to other men, other relationships. She’d returned to New Mexico after college in New York, but she’d soon had reason to return to the East Coast. Working as an interior designer, she’d met plenty of eligible New York bachelors. Her friends out East had considered her sophisticated when it came to matters of the heart after her seemingly easy split with Jeffrey.

But suddenly she was thrust back to the uncertainty of her youth. Sweaty palms. Palpitating heart. Overactive imagination.

Surely it was only her sentimental streak at work. That and a healthy libido.

The moment the music ended, Alcina thought to put a stop to her renewed attraction to Reed right then and there, but the band merely swung into a softer, easier piece, and he pulled her even closer. They fit together perfectly, his chin resting against her temple. His warm breath drifted across her forehead and shot goose bumps down her spine.

Alcina groaned.

“Am I holding you too tight?”

“No…yes.”

“Make up your mind. Which is it?”

Alcina made a big show of adjusting the bouquet that lay along his back. She murmured, “There, that’s better,” as if holding the flowers had been her problem.

“Mmm.”

She wasn’t about to let him know that he was the cause of her discomfort. But now his breath was tickling her ear. A tiny thrill traveled all the way down to her toes. She tightened her hold on the bouquet, and the fingers of her other hand pressed into the garter.

The significance of the wedding tokens didn’t escape her.

Despite her being a rational, sensible, self-reliant woman, she wished—only for a moment—that old traditions had some basis in fact. That a bridal bouquet and a garter really were good-luck charms that could turn her youthful fantasies into adult reality.

Then Reed turned his head to gaze into her eyes, and his face slowly inched closer, and a little smile played across his lips, and crazily—only for a moment—she thought he was about to kiss her.

Pulse jagging, reality returning in a rush, Alcina ended that moment fast.

She stopped dead on the dance floor and pushed at Reed’s chest until he released her. Staring at him, hardly able to catch her breath, she felt too foolish for words.

“Something wrong?” he asked, that knowing smile still flirting with his mouth.

“Something, yes…”

Like her heart pounding as fast as a freight train…

…and her knees softening to Jell-O…

…and her brain turning to mush.

“But don’t worry about it, okay?” she gasped.

With that, Alcina rushed off the dance floor and cut through the noisy revelers.

“Alcina, wait a minute,” Reed called.

Not stopping, she nevertheless glanced over her shoulder and saw him still standing on the dance floor, hands on his hips and staring after her as if she were a crazy person. So much for any attraction that had sparked between them, she thought. After this, added to their earlier fight, he’d be sure to keep his distance.

Chagrined, she fled toward the buildings and the refuge of her car that was parked on the other side. Not that she could go home, she realized—she’d promised Pru some quality time with her new husband.

She was thinking that she’d go for a long drive and was trying to visualize where, when a series of weird noises cut through her jumbled thoughts.

A muffled boom was followed by a high-pitched outcry…several horses, she realized…horrible noises tearing from their throats.

Equine screams that sent gooseflesh down her spine.

The music died abruptly and voices rose behind her as she ducked between buildings. Drawn to the disturbance on the other side, she gasped in shock and fear, and for a moment stopped, frozen at the sight.

The barn was ablaze and three horses milled about before it. The animals were trapped in the small corral adjacent to the burning building.

“Dear Lord!”

The blaze was growing, and as sparks shot into the dry brush surrounding the fence, the lines of fire spread so fast that Alcina could hardly take in the reality of what she was witnessing. Inside the corral, the screaming horses—three of them—stood out in dark silhouette against the orange glow. One of them reared, frantic hooves slashing at the pipe and wire fencing.

The gate!

Dropping the bouquet, Alcina ran for all she was worth as another explosion shot the flames higher and wider. If the horses weren’t freed fast, they would either burn to death or injure themselves, perhaps fatally, while trying to escape.

Unlatching the gate, she swung it open wide. Immediately one horse popped out as if greased and goosed.

Alcina whistled and shouted, “C’mon!” to the others. She stood back to give them a wide berth.

A second horse shot past her.

But a third continued to screech and dance in circles, seemingly too terrified to recognize the safety of the opening. And another whistle from Alcina didn’t seem to cut through his panic.

A roar of voices behind her told Alcina that help was on its way. Someone else who knew more about horses would have a better chance of rescuing the creature. A glance over her shoulder assured her that she was the only one close enough to help now before it was too late.

Heart pounding, she ducked through the opening. Someone cried, “Alcina, stop!” but she was too focused on the terrified horse to heed the warning.

“Easy,” she crooned. “I’m going to get you out of here. You’ll be all right.”

The horse snorted, threw up his head and rolled his eyes at her in distrust. He wasn’t going to come easily, that was for certain. Maybe if she got around behind him, she could drive him out.

As Alcina drew closer, the terrified horse acted cornered. Screaming, the bay reared, then bolted forward as if ready to drive right through her. Alcina tried her best to get out of his way, but she wasn’t fast enough.

Half a ton of panicked horse glanced off her shoulder. Alcina flew back, stars of pain and orange flames and flailing yellow silk filling her vision for the few seconds she was airborne. Then she landed hard, all the breath knocked out of her.

She couldn’t move.

The fire raged closer…its greedy heat licked her.

Stunned, she watched a spark land on the tip of her silk wrap.

Like a fuse, it ignited.

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