Love Finds You in Sundance, Wyoming Read online

  “We’ll stay within sight.” She turned to James and grinned. “No running your horse or racing, but we can let them out a mite, if you want to.”

  “Whoopee!” James kicked his buckskin gelding in the sides, and the big animal lunged forward, nearly unseating the boy.

  “James!” Travis raised his voice, but the boy didn’t slow Jasper’s pace.

  Angel sat for a moment in stunned silence as Travis clucked to his horse, then urged him into a gallop. She leaned forward in her saddle, driving Bella into a fast lope, her gaze trained on James as his mount flew across the level ground, his long stride extending as he gained momentum with each advancing moment.

  “Pull your horse in, James.” Travis’s voice thundered across the open prairie.

  Angel could see James’s arms extended in front of him; he appeared unwilling to slow Jasper. She urged Bella on and loosened the mare’s reins, letting her have her head. She was sure-footed and steady, having been raised on badlands worse than what she ran across now. Bella veered around a boulder and jumped a shallow wash. Her black mane blew in the wind and tendrils slapped Angel’s face. Puffs of dust from Travis’s horse running just ahead clogged her nostrils.

  What was that boy thinking, putting his horse to this kind of pace? From what she’d heard, he wasn’t an experienced horseman. Had the idea of galloping gone to his head, or had the gelding’s response to being booted taken James by surprise? She peered ahead, hoping to see James slowing his foolhardy race, but she was met with disappointment.

  The horse that Travis rode was a big-boned, long-limbed bay with four white stockings that flashed as his stride ate up the ground. He’d gotten a headstart, but Bella was gaining. The steady rhythm of hoof-beats filled her ears—no labored breathing and the mare hadn’t so much as broken a sweat. Angel stroked Bella’s neck, satisfaction swelling inside. She winced at the ache running up her arm but pushed it aside.

  Travis turned his head for a moment, determination hardening his features, then faced forward and grazed his gelding with his spurs. No words passed between them, but Angel felt the mix of the man’s driving anxiety and anger. His nephew could be in mortal danger and was too naïve to realize it. One misstep by his horse into a groundhog hole, or a hoof landing wrong on a round rock, and it would all be over. James could fly over the buckskin’s head as the horse went down, and at this speed, the least he’d get would be broken bones. She shuddered to think of Libby’s agony if they were forced to pack the body of her son back to the ranch.

  “James!” Travis bellowed again. “Pull that horse in now.”

  Angel watched with her heart in her throat, praying he’d respond. They had gained on the pair and ran fifty feet or so behind. The boy suddenly sat back in his saddle and his elbows drew to his sides, the reins taut in his hands. The buckskin snorted, shook his head, and stretched his neck out, continuing to run. Angel’s heart sank. Jasper had the bit between his teeth and James wasn’t strong enough to stop him. James sawed on the reins to no avail. The animal dug in his haunches, dropped his head, and plowed forward.

  “Uncle Travis. Make him stop!” The panic in the boy’s voice was apparent, even at this distance. “I’m scared!”

  “Hold on, James. We’re coming.” Travis seemed to will his horse to go faster. His mount’s sides heaved and his neck stretched.

  The horse moved at a full run, and his dark sides glistened with sweat. Angel hadn’t believed it possible, but Travis gained a few more yards on the runaway. She urged Bella forward, keeping only a stride or two behind the gelding.

  Travis was magnificent in the saddle, sitting the running horse like someone born to ride. The fabric of his shirt stretched tight against his muscled shoulders as he extended his arms and called for more speed. His long, lean legs remained steady and firm against his horse’s sides, and his clenched jaw showed his dogged determination to save his nephew. But what could he do, even if he caught up with Jasper? Angel shot up a prayer, hoping God would listen.

  James hunkered over the saddle horn, his hands gripping the reins but no longer putting out an effort to stop his speed-crazed mount. The horse jumped a small bush, nearly unseating the boy a second time. Angel watched in horror as James slipped to the side. He dropped the knotted reins and clutched the horn.

  “Hold on, boy. I’m almost there.” Travis yelled the words, although Angel doubted James could hear. She drew further to the side, running almost parallel to the two riders. James’s pallor and grip on the saddle screamed out his fear. He slipped a little more and fought to keep his balance. His foot shoved hard in the stirrup and he righted himself, then he slumped over his horse’s neck, his head bowed.

  Bushes passed in a blur, and Bella continued to dodge and jump small obstructions, but Angel kept her gaze trained on Travis. A few more long strides brought him abreast of the runaway gelding. He leaned away from his saddle and reached for the rein closest to him, but James’s horse snorted and jerked away.

  “Please, God,” Angel mumbled.

  Travis urged his bay closer and tried again. Angel could see his long bronzed fingers just inches from the rein. Suddenly, his arm snaked out and he snagged the leather strip. The knot at the end of the reins kept him from pulling it all the way toward him. “James. James!”

  The boy’s head bobbed, and he turned frightened eyes on his uncle, but his mouth seemed frozen and no words tumbled out.

  “Untie the reins.” Travis kept his horse moving at the same speed as the buckskin, but Angel could tell the effort of balancing in the saddle and holding the reins was wearing on him. “Hurry, boy. Untie them.”

  James came to life at his uncle’s words, and his fingers fumbled with the knot. Long moments passed as he struggled to keep his balance in the seat and loosen the leather, but it finally broke free. Angel slowed Bella’s gallop to a fast trot, understanding dawning at what course Travis planned to take.

  Travis drew the strip toward him and sat upright in his saddle, then slowly directed his mount in a wide circle. Jasper seemed almost relieved to follow along, his frantic pace slackening as the circle tightened. Finally, the two heaving, sweat-soaked geldings drew to a stop.

  Travis jumped from his saddle, his entire body shaking—with what? Fear, anger, or a little of both? He took two strides to James’s side and plucked the trembling boy from his seat. “If you ever do that again—” He gripped James as though he’d shake him, but he simply stared at the boy for a moment, then snatched James to his chest.

  The scared young man emitted a sob. Then a wail tore from his lips, and he threw his arms around his uncle’s neck. “I’m sorry, Uncle Travis. I’m sorry. I—didn’t—know he’d—run. Honest—I didn’t.” Tears coursed down his cheeks, and he hiccupped between the words.

  Angel sat her horse watching the two—so different, yet so alike. She’d been afraid Travis might be harsh, and now admiration flooded her. Travis reminded her of Papa when she’d done something naughty as a small child, and he’d disciplined her with tenderness and love.

  Travis drew back, still gripping his nephew’s shoulders. “I understand, but you didn’t think before you acted. I’ve told you numerous times that the decisions you make out here can have life-and-death consequences. I hope you learned that today.”

  James swiped at his tearstained cheeks. “Yes, sir. I won’t do anything like that again. Ever.” He struggled to smile. “Thank you for stopping my horse. I thought he’d run forever.”

  “My biggest concern wasn’t his running, but what would happen if he stepped in a hole and sent you flying. When he jumped that bush you lost your balance, and if you’d fallen, you could’ve been killed.”

  Angel winced but she understood the need to be brutally honest with James. If the boy thought the danger was in the horse running away until he tired and eventually stopped, it might not make a deep enough impression. She nudged her horse forward. “James?”

  He turned toward her. “Miss Angel?” His eyes widened. “I forgot
you were here.”

  She nodded. “Your uncle is right. This is rough ground, and I expected to see your horse go down any second. Bella is sure-footed, but even she was picking her way. All I can figure is that God must be watching over you today, or we’d be packing you home across your saddle, and your mama would be grieving another loss.”

  James’s face sagged, and it looked like he might burst into tears again. “I don’t want Ma to cry over me like she did my pa. I promise I’ll be careful.”

  Travis retrieved his horse’s reins that dragged on the ground. “Good. Now let’s head back to the house. Nice and slow.” He swung into the saddle and motioned for James to do the same.

  Angel turned her horse the direction they’d come. She was content to let the two men ride together. The memory of Travis’s courage would stay with her for a long time. A sense of deep gratitude to God hit her. It might not be so bad attending church with Libby and Travis.

  Then a thought froze her in her saddle, and she nearly dropped her reins. All she owned was men’s clothes and boots. What in the world would she wear?

  Travis shot a look at Angel sitting relaxed in her saddle and frowned. He’d had high hopes for what should have been a leisurely ride, and it had turned into a nightmare instead. Since Angel’s accident, he’d had little time to talk to her, and now with her grandmother visiting he doubted that would improve. Her arm was well on the way to mending, although she still needed to be careful. Thank the good Lord he’d come on this ride and James was all right. Not that Angel’s riding skills weren’t up to muster, but with her injury it could’ve been difficult for her to catch the reins and turn the runaway horse.

  Maria de Luca posed another interesting problem—one he needed to give further thought to. She seemed genuine enough, and he had no reason to doubt her identity, but Angel hadn’t warmed up to the woman and seemed to avoid her. Travis brushed at a pesky fly buzzing around his head. Raven swished his tail as the fly moved back to his hindquarters.

  James rode quietly beside him, seeming content to rest and, for once, not chattering. The thirteen-year-old generally had more comments and questions than three grown men strung together in a week, but that was part of growing up. Travis remembered his own childhood and the times he’d pestered his father. He’d quickly learned to keep his thoughts to himself, or get snapped at for his pains.

  His gaze once again strayed to the lovely, raven-haired woman ahead of him. What would it be like, having a wife who understood ranch life and supported him in what he hoped to accomplish? A slight smile tipped up the corners of his lips. He’d always wanted children. Would they have dark hair and eyes, or—he pulled up short and nearly yanked his horse’s head off. What in tarnation was he doing, daydreaming about a woman who didn’t know he existed other than to receive her orders and get a paycheck? Besides, he had no indication she knew the Lord, and he wouldn’t waffle in that area.

  James reined in and turned in his saddle. “Uncle Travis. You okay?” His brows crinkled.

  “Yeah. Sorry, James. Guess I was thinking and forgot where I was.”

  “That’s not safe. You have to be aware of your surroundings all the time in this country. Isn’t that what you told me?” There was no censure in the boy’s tone, but Travis detected a hint of a smile behind the words.

  Angel swung Bella around toward them. “You’re right, James. This is a hard land that can take a bite out of you quicker than a bear takes a chunk out of a honeycomb.” She tossed a smile at Travis, and her voice gentled. “But sometimes it’s all right to daydream when your horse is tired and you’re on the way home.” She raised her brows and grinned. “As long as you don’t overdo it, that is.”

  Travis felt warmth stealing up his neck and ducked his head, letting his hat cast a shadow over his face. He knew it was nonsense, but it felt like she’d been poking around in his mind. He nudged his horse forward and grunted. “Yeah. I don’t know about you two, but those donuts are sounding mighty fine.”

  James brightened, and he clucked to his gelding but kept constant pressure on the reins. “Yum! Ma makes the best bear sign in the West.”

  Travis let loose a guffaw. “When did you start using cowboy talk?”

  “Arizona and Wren been teaching me. They said if’n I’m gonna be a proper cowpoke someday, I got to know how to talk right.”

  Angel’s laugh was pure poetry, and the sound made Travis mute. It was the first time she’d laughed that he could remember, and he prayed it wouldn’t be the last. He’d be jiggered if he wouldn’t find a way to get her to do it again.

  She shook her head and her smile faded, but her eyes still sparkled. “Do you think your uncle is a good cowboy?”

  “Sure. He’s the best! Otherwise, he never would’ve caught my horse and saved me today.” James’s head bobbed up and down, making his hat jiggle.

  “Does he talk like Arizona and Wren?”

  The boy grew thoughtful. “Uh. I guess not. But why can’t I talk like the cowboys?”

  Travis sent a grateful smile toward Angel and stepped in. “It’s fine to use words like bear sign for donuts, but it’s not all right to use coarse words. Besides, you know your mother likes you to use good English.”

  “I know.” James sighed and flicked the end of his reins against his thigh. “I don’t like disappointing Ma.”

  “Good boy. Now if you think we can hold to a nice, slow lope, let’s get back to the ranch for some of that bear sign!” Travis grazed his horse’s side with his spur, and they moved into a controlled gait. It looked like talking to Angel would have to wait. But hearing her laugh and seeing the light in her eyes had made his entire day worthwhile.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A week later Angel slipped out of her room and headed for the barn, thankful she’d successfully avoided time alone with Maria. A couple of times the older woman came close to cornering her, but James or one of the cowboys had appeared in the nick of time. She had to admit that Maria was growing on her, and the sense of dread she’d experienced had retreated somewhat since her arrival, but she still didn’t care to be interrogated about her childhood or parents. Calling her “grandmother” as Maria had requested still didn’t sit well, so she simply steered clear of calling her anything at all.

  Her foot hit the bottom step when the front door of the house opened. Angel swung around, hoping no one was looking for her.

  “Angel?” Maria stepped out of the front door and walked to the edge of the covered porch. She clasped her hands in front of her waist and her fingers alternately tightened and loosened. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

  Angel glanced around but saw no one who might come to her rescue. She shrugged. “If it won’t take too long. I really need to brush my horse and give her some grain.”

  “Grazie. I mean, thank you. I forget that your mother did not teach you our native tongue. I’m so thankful I learned English in my country.” She waved her fingertips toward the bench to the left of the door and the chair nearby. “Would you care to sit?”

  Angel hesitated, then headed for the porch. “Sure.” She sank onto the chair, scooted it several more inches away from the bench, and leaned back, crossing her arms over her middle.

  Maria heaved a deep sigh as she seated herself on the wooden surface. “Why are you afraid of me, Granddaughter?”

  Angel lurched upright and stared. “Afraid? I’m not in the least frightened of you.”

  The older woman’s face reflected a sad smile. “You avoid me each day, you smile but it does not reach your eyes, you say the right words when you speak, but they do not come from your heart.” She pointed her finger. “And you make sure you do not sit close enough for me to touch you. All signs you are afraid of me, sí?”

  Angel’s thoughts raced. The woman saw through her attempts to evade. How could she be honest and not hurt Maria? At times like this she wished she’d just kept riding and never answered Travis’s telegram. She’d be on another ranch somewhere, living a simple life,
and not faced with her past and all that entailed. A tiny voice of reason nudged at her heart. If she hadn’t come, she wouldn’t have met Travis and she’d still be living a lie. She forced a smile. “No, Signora. I just don’t know you, and your claims make me—uncomfortable.”

  Maria’s eyebrows rose. “My claims? You mean that I am your grandmother?”

  “Yes.”

  “You do not believe me?”

  “I guess I’m not sure. I was young when my parents died, and my uncle never spoke of you or your husband. Why wouldn’t he have told me about my mother’s people if they were still alive?”

  “I cannot say, Cara”

  Angel bristled. “I’m not your darling.”

  “Ah. You know that word?”

  “I’m—not sure. Maybe I heard my parents use it—“ Angel dropped her hands into her lap. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  Maria gave an airy wave with her fingertips. “No matter. My late husband, he could growl like a giant bear. I think you call them grizzly bears in this country, sí?”

  “Sí.” Angel smiled at the picture the comparison created. “Your husband was an unhappy man?”

  “No. He was quite happy most of his days. But when he did not get his sleep or someone disturbed him while he read his paper—“ A tinkling laugh escaped her lips. “You understand? He was a man who valued his privacy, but oh, how he loved those he gave his heart to.” Her face took on a faraway expression momentarily before she turned her attention back to Angel. “Pardon. I drift away on the clouds of memory. We were talking of your happiness and fear, not my husband’s. What has been wrong, piccolina? I hope you do not mind me calling you that. It was my husband’s name for your mother when she was a girl.”

  “Little one.” Angel nearly whispered the words. “Piccolina— pequeña.” She’d heard both growing up. Mama had called Papa darling and Papa had called her little one. Even when she grew up, José insisted on using it. Could he have gotten it from her parents? She had a vague recollection of Papa doing so when she was a child.