Promise Canyon (9 page)

“I have to read a minute,” Noah said, flipping through documents.

Preacher appeared to be comparing deeds to the old map, moving them from one side of the map to the other as if checking them off. Noah was passing the pages he perused to Mike Valenzuela, Paul was upstairs banging on walls and Jack was starting to twitch.

“Oh, boy,” Preacher said finally. “Okay, near as I can tell from this, old Percival McCrea had a lot of money and bought himself just about all the land under what’s called Virgin River. Have no idea where he got his money, but it seems it was a long time ago and construction started on this house when he was a young man. Took three years to build and was finished in 1921. Whew. It looks like Hope started selling off the land in parcels right after he died. How old is this town anyway?”

“Was all of it his?” Jack asked, pulling the map closer. It had been divvied up in different colors and
some of the names printed on the map he recognized. Bristol, Anderson, Givens, Fishburn. “Holy cow,” he said.

“Looks like there were some homesteaders back a long time ago,” Preacher said. “But whatever wasn’t homesteaded, old Percival bought up. Then he shared it with his sixteen-year-old bride. Then she disposed of it. I’ll have to research a little, see what the land values were when she did these deed transfers, but it kinda looks like she let ’em go cheap. Hope built a town. Cool.”

“Jack?” Noah said. “Here it is, Jack. She’s left
everything
to the town. Her husband left her everything he had, and she left it all to the town.” He passed the document to Mike, who passed it to Preacher.

“No surprise there,” Jack said. “According to Hope, she didn’t have anyone else.”

“And you’re in charge of it. You were named the executor.”

“Me? Why me?” he asked.

“You probably seemed the obvious choice.” Noah flipped through the pages a bit. “Looks like it was Doc Mullins until you came to town. So, how about that? We don’t have to start calling you
sir
or anything, do we?”

“When you say
everything…
” Jack said hesitantly.

Preacher was the one to answer. “House, contents, land… I wonder if there’s something like a bank account. Knowing Hope, I wouldn’t be surprised if the mattresses and cubbyholes were stuffed with bills.”

“No,” Noah said. “Remember, this is the woman who was auctioning the church on eBay. She’s computer savvy. I bet half the stuff she bought she got off
the Internet. I bet she has accounts on the computer. It’s in the kitchen. We might have a challenge figuring out passwords, that sort of thing.”

Jack leafed through her files. “Could it be filed under
Passwords?
” he asked, pulling out a file. He took on a decidedly superior air.

“Nicely done,” Noah said with a grin.

“This is making me very uncomfortable,” Jack said with a shudder. “I don’t want to be in charge of Hope’s stuff. I don’t want to be the town manager, either.”

“Take it easy. You start by going to see her lawyer. If there’s any money—like after land sales and such—you’re probably empowered to get a little help. You know—hire people.”

“Really, I don’t have time for this,” he grumbled. “I don’t want to be responsible for how it’s used….”

The sound of Paul’s heavy footfalls coming down three flights of stairs caused all the men to turn toward the staircase. He stopped at the bottom and smiled at them. “This is a great old house,” he said. “Studs every twelve inches, fire walls, top-quality oak, marble and granite, tongue-and-groove hardwood floors… I couldn’t build this house today for three million. It’s old and it’s
awesome.
I hope whoever gets it wants some help putting it right.”

“And there is my first potential employee,” Jack said.

Delivering feed to smaller ranches and stables was a job that Lilly had volunteered to do—she considered it as adding weight lifting to her exercise regimen. That, combined with yoga, kept her in shape. Plus, it was very important to Yaz that his only family stay involved in
his business; it was to be hers one day. Lilly hoped Yaz would live a very long time because even though she knew all the details of the operation, she had trouble seeing herself as the owner of a feed store.

For the past three weeks, since the changes at the Jensen clinic, this menial part of her job had become infinitely more interesting. It was now a priority. She found herself looking forward to that delivery. If Blue was in the pasture, she ran out there just to see her. And she found herself feeling disappointed if she didn’t run into Clay. If Streak was not in the round pen, she would make it a point to spend a little time leaning into his stall, talking to him quietly, even though she knew Clay wouldn’t approve. Clay wanted the colt to focus on him and seemed almost jealous when Streak didn’t shy from Lilly.

She preferred to see all of them—the horses…and the man.

She had an easy rapport with Clay now; he had helped save Blue and they shared Native roots. He always respectfully asked after her grandfather though he’d never met the man. He asked her about the store, about how she spent her free time, how she liked living in this part of the country. She asked about the horses, about the progress on the new barn addition, whether he was settling in all right.

He did not ask her about her boyfriend and she never asked him if there was a woman in his life—but those unasked questions hung heavy in the air between them. Not only was it obvious he was attracted to her, she was having trouble denying that she also felt a pull. There was sexual tension between them and she knew it.

Even though Lilly occasionally dated, it had been
a very long time since she had felt that buzz of awareness; it ran like a river through her veins and made her heart beat faster. She wasn’t sure if the shivers she was experiencing were from excitement or fear.

She drove up to the stable and turned around to back up close to the doors. By the time she had her gloves on and was pulling a bale toward the hatch, Clay was pushing open and securing the double doors for her. She lifted the bale out of the truck bed while he put on gloves. By the time she deposited her load in the feed room, he was right behind her, a bale in each hand.

“You don’t bother telling me not to help anymore,” he said, dropping first one then the second bale.

“Why should I waste my breath?” she said, smiling before heading back to the truck.

“Can you hang around a little while?” he asked.

“For?”

“I’m going to mount Streak. See how he does.”

She turned as if startled. “He’s ready?”

“We’ll find out,” Clay said, reaching into the pickup for a bag of feed.

“I don’t know about putting a saddle on him. I get the feeling…”

“I’m not going to use a saddle. Not yet, anyway,” he said.

“Have you tried this before? On him?” she asked.

“No, I was waiting for you. It’s obvious he matters to you, Lilly. And I think you matter to him. He’s quieted a great deal since he’s been our guest. Now he even goes along with the bridle, the bit, minds his manners. He even takes more kindly to the brush, if it’s not for too long.” He lifted the feed bags, stacked them together and hoisted them on a shoulder. “Stay a little while.”

She felt an instant rush of emotion, suspense, though she wasn’t precisely sure what caused it. The prospect of watching him mount that surly two-year-old? Watching Streak throw him? Or was it the deep timbre of his voice when he said,
Stay a little while…

“Just for a couple of minutes,” she said. “I hope he’s in the mood. I don’t have much time today and I want to check on Blue.”

“It won’t take long. I’ll know right away if he’s going to cooperate. Any interest in Blue from your notice on the bulletin board?”

“Not yet, but it hasn’t been up
that
long…”

“Longer than you asked for,” Clay reminded her. “Lots more than a few days. We’ll have to do something with her soon. This isn’t Club Med.”

“I’m bringing her feed free,” Lilly said. “Have you noticed that?”

“I have,” he said with a smile. “It’s appreciated. Thank you.”

And then he took off with the feed bags, depositing them and heading for the tack room to get ready for his horse.

Stay a little while
… Oh, boy. Lilly hadn’t realized she’d been longing to hear a man breathe that in her ear. That was
nice.

“Your girlfriend is here,” Clay said to the horse as he slipped the bit in his mouth and bridle over his head. “Would be nice if you showed her you’re somewhat domesticated. She could be proud of you. How about that?”

She’s so young, he thought. It wasn’t like him to be attracted to a mere girl, a girl who looked more suited
to his son, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He thought about her when she wasn’t around, and when she was around his heart picked up speed and he felt warm all over. She was just so damn cute in her torn jeans and denim jacket. She had herself some fine-looking boots—eel skin, if he wasn’t mistaken. She pretended not to care all that much about riding, but she was clearly attached to the horses and those boots were too nice for just delivering feed.

And when he wasn’t thinking about how cute she was, he was breathing heavy at how
hot
she was. Tiny, fit, sexy. That silky black hair, cut along her jawline and swinging with each movement, he could almost feel it against his fingers, against his bare chest. Her eyes were so large and blue and he had an overwhelming urge to cause them to roll back in her head.

But the last thing he needed right now was trouble from some ancient Hopi grandfather. The old man would probably not relish the idea of his very young granddaughter messing with a thirty-four-year-old Navajo. Not that he really stood a chance…there was a boyfriend in the picture. Some young buck? he wondered. Someone the grandfather would prefer? Someone the grandfather
chose?

He tried to force all this from his mind as he led Streak from his stall. There was a blanket already draped over the gate rail. He led the horse to the far side of the corral, draped the blanket over his back and one last thought slipped through, directed at Streak.
Maybe you could try to not make me look like a fool.

He put a right foot on the middle rung of the fence, threw the left leg over and sat on Streak’s back. Clay stroked his neck and murmured in Navajo that all was
well. And the horse seemed fine. Still. He didn’t even prance. Clay was impressed and leaned down to his ear. “Yeah, not so bad. You’re plenty strong enough for a big guy like me.” Then he let up on the reins, gave the horse a gentle nudge with his heel and moved him forward. He pulled left on the bit and the horse followed. Then right. Then slowed him to a stop. “You’re showing off,” he whispered to the horse. “You get an A.”

Clay took the horse around the pen again, nice and easy, pleased as much with himself as with Streak because timing was everything. He brought him up to an easy canter and took a couple of laps, then slowed him down.

Lilly had moved from her position behind the fence to a seat on top of the uppermost rail. She lifted her hand, beckoned, kissed the air and hummed, and damned if Streak didn’t turn toward her. Clay relaxed his control of the reins; he wanted to see what the horse would do. Streak moved toward her. When he was near enough, he let Lilly touch him without pulling him away.

“Be careful, Lilly,” Clay warned. “This guy is unpredictable.”

“So you say,” she said softly. “Let me have a turn. Come on.”

“You’re not serious…. I haven’t even seen you on a horse yet.”

“You’re about to. Off,” she demanded. “He’d rather have me anyway.”

“I can’t take that kind of chance. I—”

“I’ve been on unbroke colts before,” she said. “It’s been a long time, but I know what I’m doing.”

“You could land on your ass, break your back.”

“I’m not going to let him do that,” she said. “Can’t you see he doesn’t want to do that to me?”

“Bad idea,” he muttered to himself. “Bad, bad, bad idea,” he said while he dismounted.

He had barely cleared the horse’s back, his feet hardly on the ground a second when the heel of Lilly’s boot boosted her from the top rung up onto the horse. She grabbed the reins and seated herself securely on the blanket. She clicked, barely moved the reins, gave a gentle nudge with her thighs and Streak was in motion. He was trotting around the pen in a neat circle. His cadence was perfect. He was balanced, level, his gait
stunning!

Clay perched himself on the top rail and watched. She didn’t pull on the reins, barely touched them; her boot heels didn’t even nudge the horse, but he could see the hard muscles of her thighs and the pressure from her knees working to direct him. She shifted her weight to guide him in a flawless dressage. She was brilliant. There was one perfect tear in each knee of her jeans and something about that turned him on. Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t hear anything. Streak moved in a perfect, obedient trot around the pen, commanded by this small woman’s sheer will.

Clay jumped off the fence and into the pen, but Streak didn’t even seem to notice. The horse was completely under Lilly’s spell. Clay moved stealthily toward horse and rider, let them pass and finally stood in the center of the pen. He let her go around a couple more times, then held up his hand.

Lilly brought the horse up easily, stopping him on a dime. For someone not into riding, she was an expert.
Gifted. He wondered if Annie was even aware of her skills.

She stroked the horse’s mane. “You’re the best,” she told Streak. “The best.”

The
horse?
Clay thought.
She
was magnificent. No relationship or training with this troubled animal and she worked him like he was her lapdog! The damn horse would walk off a cliff for her! She had chemistry with him, an intimacy that Clay had only seen in special relationships between horse and rider.

Lilly threw her left leg over just as Clay reached up to help her down. She didn’t need his assistance, but he wanted to touch her, however briefly. He had his hands on her waist as she slid off the horse, but he held her in place. Then he slid her very, very slowly down the length of his body. When her face was even with his, he stopped her descent for a moment, just long enough to look deeply into those blue eyes. Their faces were close and he wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t dare. He had no idea how she’d react.