Raven and the Cowboy: A Loveswept Historical Romance (18 page)

His stomach was protesting the length of time since they’d shared the bread and cheese of Father Francis’s and Benito’s village. The sun was overhead now. High noon. How far was the hacienda? Could they trust Gomez? Suppose he was tied in with the bandits?

Raven Alexander was his responsibility, and he’d do what he had to in order to take care of her. By the time they reached the ranch, he was ready to throw Raven over his horse and ride away. He was willing to forget about the treasure, the Indians, and land in Oregon. All he wanted was—

Damn it!
Tucker pulled off the new felt hat he’d bought and ran his fingers through his hair. He needed a bath and a shave. He needed to get his mind back on track. He couldn’t admit the truth.

But the truth was, all he really wanted was Raven Alexander.

The hacienda was small but elegant. Señora Hildalgo came hustling to the door to meet them. “Welcome, welcome, Señora Farrell. Come inside and rest your sore ankle. I have your quarters ready.”

Tucker gave her a startled look.

“Gomez sent word that you were coming,” she explained. “Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you.” Raven stiffened her spine, becoming every inch the wealthy land buyer she pretended to be. “We are pleased to accept your kind invitation.”

“Let me get you to your room, where you can bathe and have a nice long rest before the fiesta begins at dusk. Did my husband tell you that we are celebrating our daughter’s engagement?”

“No, I’m sorry, we would not have intruded on a family affair,” Raven said.

“Do not worry. Everybody in the territory will be here. Come, let me show you to the guest room.”

“The guest room?” Raven repeated with a shy smile.

Tucker gave the lady of the house a dazzling smile calculated to cover his consternation. “Perhaps my wife
would be more comfortable if I found other quarters for this evening.”

Raven shot Tucker a stern look. “Don’t be silly, Tucker. A sprained ankle is no reason for you to sleep in the barn. I’ll be just fine.”

Señora Hildalgo looked uncomfortable. “If you’re certain. We are very short of space, due to the other guests.”

“I insist,” Raven said.

“In the meantime, Señor Farrell,” the banker said, “will you join me in the study for a glass of my special Spanish wine? We’d like you to feel our house is your house.”

“Don’t spoil your lunch, Gomez. I’ll have it brought in to you momentarily. Señora Farrell would probably like to have something light in her room.”

“That would be very nice,” Raven agreed, hoping it wasn’t too light and didn’t take too long in arriving. The food they’d shared with Father Francis this morning had been filling, but not enough and not for long. “But I’m afraid that I’m not yet confident in climbing the stairs. Tucker, would you …”

As Señora Hildalgo and the servants began mounting the stairs, Raven held up her arms prettily, settling against him in a way that was designed to tease. She was rather enjoying the game they were playing. Besides, she’d never been in such a luxurious home, and she intended, just for now, to allow herself to be pampered, both by her hostess and by her husband.

“Stop it, witch,” Tucker whispered as he carried her, ignoring the protests of his healing ribs. “You’re carrying our pretense a little too far. Behave yourself!”

“Of course, darling,” she said coyly, taking a lesson in flirting from her sister Isabella. “I just like being married.”

“You’re going to be sorry,” he said gruffly. “I’ll make you walk up on your own.”

She pressed her breast against his hand for one quick moment. “But I need you to protect me. I’m still weak with fear from our near fatal attack. Suppose the Indians come back?”

She’d become less mystical and more womanly. He liked that—too much. “The Indians won’t come here. What you’d better worry about is the bandits and whether or not the mayor is in cahoots with them.”

She went still and her face paled, making him sorry he’d said anything. She needed rest and food and a few days to get herself ready for the ordeal ahead. Now he’d made her worry.

“Oh, dear. I’m not very good at flirting, am I?”

He planted a light kiss on her lips. “No, you’re not,” he lied. “And I like it that way. Just go on pretending to be afraid and let me do the talking.”

Señora Hildalgo stopped at a bedroom door at the end of the corridor. “Rosalita will bring hot water for your tub. It will help your foot to soak it. A nice nap with pillows beneath your leg should make you feel much better.”

Tucker let her down just inside the door and looked around with approval. The simple white room was stark but comfortable. There was an outside door leading to a balcony overlooking the courtyard below.

“Through here is a small room normally used by one of the ladies’ maids. For now, Mr. Farrell can use it to clean up and dress for the evening. That way you won’t be disturbed. Later one of our guests will sleep there.”

“I’m afraid we are becoming an inconvenience for you,” Raven observed. “Perhaps we ought to go back to town. Surely there is an inn or a hotel?”

“Oh, no,” Señora Hildalgo said in horror. “The only rooms to be had are those over the cantina, and I don’t think you’d be comfortable there. You’ll stay here. It will be fine, I promise.”

“The room is lovely, Señora Hildalgo. We thank you for your hospitality. I’m sure Raven will feel better after a good rest.”

“Raven? That’s an unusual name.”

“Yes, it was my mother’s.” Raven debated whether or not to announce her Indian heritage, then decided that for now she’d keep that to herself. “I wish you’d call me that.”

“Of course. I’ll have the hot water and your clothing sent up.”

She walked to the door and waited, making no effort to leave the room. Finally Tucker realized that she was waiting for him.

“Are you ready, Mr. Farrell?” their hostess inquired, opening the door.

“Of course. Get some rest, darling.” He smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips. “No dreams of mountain lions this afternoon. You’re in good hands here.”

“I’ll try,” she admitted, feeling the rush of emotion that swept over her every time this man touched her. She shivered. What if she really were Mrs. Farrell? A real home, a ranch, children? She’d never considered any of those things.

Clutching the pillow close to her, she thought about children, a baby. Could she truly be a mother? As the door closed and she heard footsteps moving down the hall, she felt tears well up in her eyes.

Enough of that, Raven Alexander, she chastised herself. You promised the Grandfather that you’d find the treasure. You don’t have time to think like a woman.

All she needed was food, sleep, and getting her ankle well. A few days might not make that much difference in what happened, but she had no way of knowing that. She’d already allowed too much time to come between her and her mission. Now she was a potential land buyer
pretending to be a wife, when she ought to be climbing the sacred mountain.

Raven stood in the middle of the room and cleared her churning mind. It had been too long since she’d felt the presence of the spirit world. She’d lost sight of her goal and allowed herself to become involved in a relationship that was becoming too personal. Tucker Farrell had been sent only to get her to Luce, not become her husband.

But later, maybe after they’d found the treasure, a husband might be nice.

The tub was made of shiny copper and filled with steaming hot water. Once Raven settled for a long, soothing soak, the servant girl named Rosalita, who’d filled the tub, continued to dip out the cooling water and replace it with more kettles of hot.

Raven lay for as long as she dared, then came reluctantly to her feet and with help from Rosalita hobbled to a chair by the window, where a small table had been set up. After settling her charge in the chair and planting Raven’s injured ankle on a stool stacked with pillows, Rosalita poured liquid from a jar into her hand and began to massage the ankle. The medication had the scent of wintergreen and some other pungent herb Raven couldn’t identify. Soon Rosalita’s firm application of the medication brought a healthy blush and a tingle to the skin of Raven’s injured ankle.

“Rosalita, tell me about the fiesta.”

“It is to announce the engagement of the señora’s only daughter. Everyone will come.”

“A wedding. A new beginning.” For a moment Raven thought of her grandfather. He had left this world to be
reborn in the spiritual one. She knew that his people had seen to the burial customs, but she regretted not being there. And she knew that she would always miss him.

“You are sad, señora?” Rosalita questioned.

“Yes. But it will pass. I plan to enjoy the fiesta tonight. I suppose Señor Hildalgo and his wife are pleased to be gaining a son-in-law.”

“He is a fine young man and this will be a glorious event.” Rosalita told her how everyone for miles would come. Neighbors, townspeople, and every man, woman, and child on the ranchero. “Señora Hildalgo is very generous,” she confided as she kneaded Raven’s ankle.

“And the groom, what does he do?”

“He is the son of the largest landowner in the area. They have been promised since childhood.”

“When will they marry?”

“The banns will be posted soon, and the wedding will take place in late summer.”

“And do they love each other?”

Rosalita looked at her in surprise. “Of course. Why would they not?”

Raven didn’t answer. She’d have to think about that. Her own four sisters had never been promised to anyone. There had been no eligible men in the Front Mountains of Colorado where they’d lived, not until Sabrina had rescued the four Confederate soldiers captured by the army at Fort Collins and brought them home to work in her papa’s mine.

They hadn’t known these men since childhood, but they quickly fell in love with each other. And there was Tucker. She hadn’t known him since childhood, but she’d always known that there was something, someone out there waiting for her. Now she knew that it was Tucker, her cougar.

Finally Rosalita stood up, washed her hands in the tub, and removed the cloth from the table, revealing a plate of broiled chicken, cheese, and fruit.

Washed down with cool milk, the food was quickly gone, and Raven’s attention was drawn to the courtyard outside the hacienda window. In the mountains the air was still cold; snow still lay in the crevices. But here the spring flowers were in full bloom. Tables were set up around a tinkling fountain, and servants were covering them with colorful cloths. Musicians were already tuning up on a raised platform at the end of the patio.

Fiesta, the banker had said. She hadn’t thought too much about it then, so anxious was she to convince him to advance funds against their nuggets. Everybody in the territory would be here. Now Raven wondered how wise they’d been to take part. Surely Tucker would see the potential problems. They’d better discuss the possibilities.

Just then she saw a half-familiar male figure cut through the courtyard and disappear beneath the balcony. Who was the man? She’d seen him before, but she couldn’t remember when.

Moments later she heard footsteps in the corridor and finally sounds inside the maid’s room Señora Hildalgo had offered to Tucker.

Raven badly wanted to speak with him, but she couldn’t be certain when Rosalita would return for the tray. She’d better wait until she had a better sense of what was happening.

A soft knock and the opening door admitted Rosalie. As she cleared away the tray she inclined her head toward the huge bed and smiled.

“Yes,” Raven eagerly agreed, “that is a good idea. A nap. I’ll take a nap before the fiesta.”

Rosalita immediately put down the tray and turned to assist Raven to the bed. Gently testing the ankle, Raven
was pleased that it was much better; she could even walk on it. The hot water and medicinal rub had been very effective.

Raven leaned back and stretched. She was used to sleeping on the ground, but a soft bed was nice too. Moments later Rosalita left the room, closing the door gently behind her. At almost that same moment, Tucker walked in from the other room.

“Are you all right?” he asked, pleased to see that her color was quite good and the welcome in her eyes was undisguised.

“The ankle is almost well. I’m glad you came. I needed to talk to you. Do you think that Señora Hildalgo believes that we are married?”

“Of course. Why shouldn’t she?” Tucker took one look at Raven’s hair curling damply against her face and at the delicate sleeping gown she was wearing and wished he’d waited until later to see her.

The bed in which Raven lay had a brightly embroidered canopy and gauzy hangings that were tied to the posts. His gaze wandered to the tub, still filled with soapy bathwater. On the floor was a colorful woven rug, and flowers graced the table by the window. Raven was such a contrast, sleeping beneath the stars one night and occupying a Spanish hacienda the next. She was magnificent on a horse, but she was just as appealing here.

“Are you feeling better?” Tucker asked.

“I’m stronger. By morning I should be able to travel.”

“Good. We’ll ride out, let them think we’re looking at land and that we’ll return.”