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Chapter Five

Even with such a large herd the land is often empty, so my brother experiments with grapes and other fruits that grow well in this temperate clime. But I should not bore you with descriptions of our work and will tell you about the mountains and hills.

Anna stared at the man behind Daniel. Rafael. Her intended. Not even the tiniest flicker in her belly occurred. Nothing like the flutters she had experienced when Daniel pulled up in Stockton.

Daniel stepped to the side. Her husband-to-be lolled against the recessed wall of his doorway as if he wouldn’t remain on his feet otherwise. She stared at him feeling as numb and empty as her coin purse.

Well, it wasn’t as if she had anywhere else to go. Besides, he owned a great deal of land, the hired girl’s cryptic warning aside. She’d just have to make the best of it. She took a step forward. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”

He gave a nod that nearly toppled him over.

Giving him an opening to explain or apologize, she said, “I expected you to pick me up in Stockton. I thought that was the plan.”

“No,” said Rafael.

“I would have thought...” She would have thought he would have wanted to see her, been just a wee bit eager, but, no, he’d stayed home and gotten drunk. Her mouth tightened.

“Thought what?” prompted Daniel.

Some drunks were mean. Would Rafael be one of those? “You’re not what I expected from your letters.”

Rafael flashed a smile, but it never reached his narrowed eyes before it was gone. “And you’re more...spirited than I knew.” He pushed away from the wall, then weaved before plunking back against it with a grunt. His brow knit. “Hear you...shot a man.”

She gasped. Cold water thrown in her face wouldn’t have shocked her more. She turned toward Daniel. He had the grace to look away. He’d not only ignored her request but hadn’t warned her he’d already told Rafael first when he’d brought it up.

“Did you even wait five minutes before telling?”

He couldn’t have.

“Guess not,” Daniel said. He glared at his brother even as he moved closer to him.

Of course his loyalty was to his brother, but after he’d just told her he protected his own and she was part of that circle, his betrayal was a punch to the gut.

Well, that was how it was to be, then. She stiffened her shoulders and looked back at her future husband.

Rafael looked on the verge of being ill.

“I hope you’re not a mean drunk.”

“Of course he isn’t.” Daniel leaped to his brother’s defense. Like her own brothers, they might be angry with each other, but they would defend each other to the death if any outsider stood against them.

Rafael squinted at her. She supposed he was waiting for some justification from her. If she planned to make this work, she couldn’t just smack him for being drunk or making spirited sound like a defect.

“The men in the stagecoach were missing their shots,” she explained. “I had to do something.”

“No need...to shoot...anymore. I’m a crack shot.” Rafe puffed as if the words had required a great deal of effort. How much had the man drunk? “And Danny alwaysh hi’s his targets, don’t you?”

“Usually,” muttered Daniel.

“I’ll protect...you.” Rafael lifted the hand he’d braced against the wall and waved it expansively. “No one will get...you...here.”

His knees buckled, and he scrabbled at the wall.

Scowling, Daniel caught his brother. “I need to put him back to bed.”

“Yes, do that,” said Anna. “I find I am tired, too.”

She spun back and headed to the room with her trunk. Halfway there she pivoted. Both the brothers stared at her, while Daniel appeared to bear Rafael’s weight.

As Daniel had said, they were much alike. Same build, similar height, same dark hair and eyes. Daniel’s face was squarer and his jaw stronger. Rafael appeared slightly more classically handsome with high cheekbones and a smoother brow. Although anything he gained by reason of his appearance, he lost in her esteem by getting drunk before greeting the woman who’d traveled over the breadth of the country to be his wife. And if he thought she was too spirited or she shouldn’t shoot, well, he’d just have to learn a thing or two.

“I want my rifle with me.” She folded her arms. “Where is it?”

“What rifle?” asked Rafael. “Why’s she have a rifle?”

“The rifle the robber dropped,” Daniel said. “The sheriff gave it to her. Some folks appreciate good shooting.”

She thought Daniel might have whispered something more to his brother, but she wasn’t certain.

Rafael lurched forward, then stumbled. “You don’t need a gun.”

Daniel steadied him.

“It is mine. You are in no condition to fire a weapon. And you have no right to tell me what to do. Yet.” Good grief, if she let him make her angry, he might decide not to marry her at all.

“Hey,” protested Rafael.

Daniel shook his brother. “For what it is worth, Rafe is sorry he couldn’t pick you up in Stockton. He said as much before you knocked on the door.”

The apology—belated as it was—came from the wrong brother. She wasn’t certain she believed Daniel, but he was at least aware of her disappointment, whereas Rafael probably wasn’t aware of too much. Her betrothed was a drunkard.

Suddenly her body felt made of lead and too heavy to hold upright. After weeks of traveling in a stagecoach night and day, she should be thrilled merely to have a bed to sleep in. But the thought of having shot a man and quite possibly mortally wounding him left her restless.

She told herself it could be worse. She could have killed the robber outright. Or Rafael could be an ugly, mean drunkard and he could have lied to her about owning a ranch.

On the bright side, it did appear that meals were readily had—that was an improvement over her life in Connecticut, even if the food was strange. The house was much larger than she’d expected, big enough to leave open ground in the middle. And there was a lot of land. Daniel must have the right of it. Tomorrow everything was bound to look better, and she’d have the day to get to know her fiancé.

She would marry Rafael. Even if he wasn’t what she hoped, life with him would be better than what she’d come from.

“It is my rifle now, and I want it. Is it still in the wagon? I’ll go get it.”

“I’ll bring it to you,” said Daniel. “After I get him to bed.”

Rafael grunted and wobbled.

Daniel braced a foot and pushed him back upright.

She had seen strong drink affect her father and brothers. More so since life seemed to keep throwing them punches and they couldn’t find the security they’d enjoyed back in the old country.

But Rafael owned a large ranch, had a loving and supportive family. What reason had he to drink other than he had had second thoughts about marrying her?

* * *

Daniel supposed life had greater ironies than having to hand over your own gun to the woman who’d shot your brother. Or having to steal your own horses so you wouldn’t be suspected in a robbery. Or perhaps being responsible for tracking yourself. Then again, nearly kissing your brother’s future wife, just because she looked in need of a kiss, might top the list.

Rafael sagged against him. “Hell. Didn’t know...be so dizzy.”

Daniel pushed him into the room and pulled the door shut. He guided Rafael to the bed. Then, just in case Anna was inclined to eavesdrop, he shut the window to the courtyard. “You rest. You have to get better fast.”

Rafael eased back, reclining against the headboard. “Hard to breathe.”

A chill ran down Daniel’s spine. “I’ll go get a doctor.”

“No.” Rafael glared at him. If Rafe really thought he was dying, he wouldn’t turn down a doctor.

“Guess you’ve made it this long without—a sawbones will only tell you to rest and quit drinking.”

Wasn’t as if they needed one to dig out a slug; the shot had gone straight through him. He lifted Rafe’s feet and put them on the bed. His brother was likely just impatient with his weakened state. He wasn’t used to being bed-bound, but an injury like he’d sustained needed time and rest to heal. When the cattle were being branded, gelded or culled for slaughter, Rafe wouldn’t sleep more than an hour or two a night until the work was done. Once when he’d been laid out with a bad case of influenza, he’d kept trying to work until Ma dosed him with enough medicine to make a horse sleep.

Rafe heaved a couple of breaths. “’Sides, if I die things will be...right.”

His stomach knotting, Daniel stood by the bed. “No, they won’t. You’ll just mess up everything. So don’t.”

“Ranch’ll be yours.” He breathed using all his body. He held out his hand. “Don’t let Ma—”

“Stop it. You’re not going to die.” Daniel took the proffered hand and squeezed. He couldn’t face the idea of going forward without Rafael, so he determinedly shoved the possibility away. His brother had managed to get himself out of bed and stood—well, mostly stood—for a good ten minutes. He wasn’t on death’s doorstep. “Stop being a crybaby.”

Rafael gripped his hand hard. “Listen.”

Daniel rolled his eyes and tugged his hand free. Much as he adored his brother, he wanted to shake him. Still, he didn’t need Rafael getting all riled up. He needed him resting and getting better. “What?”

“Don’t let Ma tell you...shouldn’t be yours.”

“Okay, Rafe.” Daniel looked over his brother. Rafael’s grip was strong, although his breathing was labored. But surely a man who was going to succumb to a gunshot wound would be worse after twelve hours, not much the same, perhaps even a little better. “You’re just being stupid. Again. You’re not dying. Although you should be after the stunt you pulled.”

“Talk to the lawyer.” Rafael coughed weakly. He rubbed a hand across his sternum. “Hell. That hurts.”

“If you were going to die, you’d be unconscious by now,” Daniel said firmly. He held out the carrot that should make any man look forward to the future. “And you’re going to get married soon.”

“Fine.” Rafael grabbed his sleeve. “You’ll have to occupy her...’til this heals.”

Thinking of the near kiss, Daniel groaned. “I can’t do that.”

“You have to.”

There were a lot of things Daniel had to do: take the horses into the hills, get their mother on board with the new story that Rafael was a sot, get the rifle out of the wagon before Anna fetched it.

They couldn’t take a chance on her looking into the paddock and recognizing the two horses they’d been riding this morning, but spending more time with her was a bad idea. “I’ll supposedly be tracking the thieves tomorrow.”

“Tell her I’m tracking, too.” Rafael rubbed his chest again. “Then I can spend the day...recovering.”

Which would make Daniel have to deceive her again. He had done nothing but lie to Anna since he’d first met her. Still, pretending Rafael had gone out to track would buy him time to heal. Daniel ignored the sour taste in his mouth at the thought of more falsehoods. “Fine. I’ll get Ma to occupy her.”

“Ma’s loco. You.”

Daniel didn’t see the point in arguing any longer. “Right now I have to take her my rifle that you dropped. You have to get better so you can buy me a new one.”

Rafe flashed his teeth in a way that probably would have been an annoying grin if he weren’t in pain. “Go. Tell Ma to check on me through there.” He pointed to the room’s side door.

If Madre was constantly checking on Rafael, nursing him—and she would—he couldn’t expect her to distract Anna for long. Daniel blew out an exasperated hiss. “You better heal fast.”

After unhitching the team and putting them in the corral for the night, Daniel retrieved his rifle from the wagon.

When he entered the main room, his mother greeted him with a round of complaints about Anna turning up her nose at the food she’d been cooking all day. Hell, if his mother took a disliking to Anna, getting her to keep Anna busy wouldn’t work. “I’m sure she’s just tired, Madre. I’m hungry. I’ll eat it soon.”

He spent the next few minutes explaining why Rafael was a drinker.

“No, not ever!” his mother said emphatically.

Which was doing it a little brown, because Rafael did occasionally drink to excess. But Daniel didn’t want to spend the night arguing with her. “This is a good thing, Ma. A better pretense than him having a wound in the same place as the robber.”

Madre twisted her mouth. “No. I will never say this about my Rafael.”

Of course not. Daniel added the coup de grâce. “Rafe thinks it’s a good idea. Then he can make Anna believe she is saving him from drinking.” Or had his mother forgotten why she wanted the marriage in the first place? Their mother hoped settling down would cure Rafe’s increasingly dangerous recklessness, and Daniel hoped for that, too. That was why he’d gone along with the scheme to get his brother a bride. And if Rafe thought an Anglo bride sitting next to him in district court would help them get the title to his land affirmed, then that was good enough for him. “You should go around and check on Rafe. He’s having trouble breathing.”

“He would never drink so much he falls down. He is a good man. You never should have let him behave so foolishly. You should have warned him they will think him a robber instead of stopping the stagecoach for him to see his bride.”

Daniel walked out on his mother’s rant. He’d probably hear it worse when he returned. But first he needed to get Anna settled in and asleep before he took out the “stolen” horses.

He was tempted to remove the rest of the rounds from the repeating rifle; instead, he carried his gun with the three remaining rounds to Anna. He had to soothe her. The last thing they needed was her looking for excuses to leave. At least if they kept her on the ranch, she couldn’t tell anyone if she recognized them.

But the longer Rafe went before showing improvement, the more likely it was that she would put two and two together. Right now Rafe could barely stand—couldn’t without something to lean against. He’d never succeed in hiding the gunshot wound from Anna. Preventing her from learning the truth fell squarely on his shoulders.

She sat on her bed, the door open to the night. A nightgown lay on the bed beside her. His heart thumped oddly at the sight. Her hair was down and plaited into a long braid, which she tied with a ribbon as he watched. He wanted to unravel it and let the molten strands slide through his fingers, across his body, splay it out on his pillow.

Her gaze jerked up, and he was caught staring and thinking things he had no business thinking. She stood and crossed the room.

“Sorry it took so long. Had to put the animals in the corral.” Not to mention settling Rafe and filling in his mother. He thrust out the sack he held.

Her eyebrows rose; then her gaze lifted to his face and she took the cloth bag, testing the weight. “Ammunition?”

“Almonds.” Well, at least she realized the gun was useless without bullets and powder. “In case you’re hungry. I grow them,” he said lamely.

She scowled and reached out her other hand, but at least she didn’t toss the almonds in his face. “The rifle, if you please.”

He didn’t pass her the rifle. “There are still rounds in it. You will be careful.”

She glared at him. “I do know how to handle a firearm, or was that not clear?”

He sighed. “Would it make any difference if I told you that I was going to tell Rafe that you didn’t want him to know you shot the robber?” He had intended to tell him that. “I just hadn’t gotten to it yet.”

Her eyes opened, but then her mouth pursed. “Well, you wasted no time at all in telling him I had shot a man.”

He couldn’t tell her that Rafael knew from the minute she’d pulled the trigger. “It wouldn’t be good for him to be caught unaware, but I’m sure he would have been happy to pretend he didn’t know for your sake.”

“So you were encouraging him to lie to me.” She glared at him.

Daniel looked around for an escape route. Bad enough he had to lie, but to have to lie to make himself look like a tattletale was just wonderful. He seemed to be doing the opposite of soothing. “Not exactly, just not bring it up until you were ready to talk to him.”

“Since he already knows I can shoot, I might as well keep the rifle.” She tugged it away. “Thank you, Mr. Werner, and good night.”

Daniel held back a groan. But for Rafael bringing up the shooting, he might have been able to reclaim the gun with little problem. Now he was going to have to make it to San Francisco and try and buy another one before any of the hands realized his new rifle was missing and the robbers had left behind one amazingly similar to his.

She reached for the door to shut it.

He put his hand out and stopped it. Then he wondered what the hell he was doing. He certainly was not going to kiss her to soothe her ruffled feathers. “I know you’ve had a difficult arrival, and we haven’t been as welcoming as we should have been, but we’re glad you’re here safe and sound.”