Hearts in Defiance (Romance in the Rockies Book 2) by Heather Blanton Page A

with several bunches of the aromatic herb.
He said he hadn’t seen any further sign of the Indian. Not that Hannah was
worried, but she was glad to hear it, just the same.
    “There are different ways to
prepare it.” He grabbed a plant and started tearing the fern-like leaves from
the stem. “Depends on the time of year.”
    His hands worked with skill.
After watching him for a moment, Hannah reached out and grabbed a flower of her
own to strip. He flashed a fleeting smile but concentrated hard on the flower.
They worked in silence for a bit, but Hannah’s mind whirled. She was enjoying
sitting in the quiet kitchen alone with Emilio, but something had definitely
shifted in their friendship. Usually, they could chat up a storm. Now, though,
she thought there were volumes of things being said without either one of them
uttering a word. She found it maddening.
    “Did you enjoy your ride out
to the meadow?”
    Emilio nodded. “ Si ,
the weather was very nice.”
    Again, more silence.
    “Emilio, how old are you?”
she asked, wondering how much more small talk she could manage.
    He shrugged as he took a
knife and cut the blossom off the stem he had just stripped. “I don’t know,
seventeen, maybe eighteen.”
    With his unstable home life,
if one could use such a gentle term, she wasn’t surprised that he didn’t know
his exact age. A lot of people out West had lost track of such things. “Do you
know when your birthday is?”
    Emilio paused and stared off
into space. “No, not really.” But then he smiled broadly, remembering a clue.
“It is in the spring, though. I know that much.”
    “Well, we’ll just have to
pick a date and throw a party.” She laid her hand over his as excitement
bubbled up in her like a fountain. The idea had just leapt to mind, and she was
glad of it. “We’re way overdue for a party. What about the end of the month,
before the Flowers take the stage out?”
    He glanced at her hand and
then back to her face. He was so close she could smell the scent of leather and
pine on him, mixed with the tangy yarrow. She put her hand over her heart,
afraid Emilio could hear it racing.
    Confused by her own
reaction, she quickly grabbed another piece of the herb. “We could put up
lanterns out back,” she said, wishing the nervous wiggle in her voice would subside.
“We could ask Shorty Johnson to come and play his banjo. It would be a
wonderful party, with dancing and food.”
    Emilio didn’t say anything,
but she could sense him still watching her as she plucked the tiny leaves.
Finally, he said, “Hannah, how is it that … I mean—” He broke off, hesitated,
and started over. “I mean, you seem so nice. You’re not like the girls at the
Iron Horse. So how did you …?”
    Oh . She figured out what he was trying to ask and decided to help
him along. “So how did I wind up with a baby and no husband?” She turned to
him, and he flinched a little at her brusque tone.
    “ Si .”
    It was her turn to shrug.
“Billy Page was the most handsome boy in town. He was wealthy, and all the
girls in town were after him.” She twirled the flower in her hands, ashamed of
herself. Was I really that empty-headed? All those reasons for caring
about someone seemed so ridiculously trite now after everything she’d been
through in the last year. “But he picked me. He lavished me with attention,
made me feel so special.” She shook her head, embarrassed she’d ever been so
gullible. But she was at least grateful for Little Billy. “I bought it all,
hook-line-and-sinker. I thought he was so in love with me and that we had
something special.”
    Perhaps Emilio heard the
shame and regret. This time, he covered her hand with his, and regarded her
with an expression full of tenderness. “ You are special. Very special.
He just wasn’t smart enough to realize it.”
    Emilio leaned toward her and
she closed her eyes, waiting for a kiss that seemed as natural as breathing.
But the movement took him to his