life. What better way than to bestow five thousand
dollars worth of gold on her?
Grey was sure
Leroy had made a map of some kind, because of that same miner who’d told him
Leroy had struck out north. When questioned about Leroy’s behavior
earlier in the day, the miner had admitted watching him draw some scribbles on
a piece of parchment. Leroy had apparently told the miner it was a card for his
daughter, but Grey knew better.
He’d observed the
girl in town, and had even followed her out to the farm that evening after the
hanging. He’d figured he could bully her into giving him the map, if he
had to. In town, he might have gotten himself arrested, but get her alone
on her farm, and he was sure she’d hand over the map with no questions
asked. The problem was, someone had beaten him to her.
From behind some
downed pinon trees, he’d watched as her cabin went up in flames. When her
mule came flying out of the barn and he saw Josie was headed toward the forest,
he’d kicked Lightning into a gallop and took a shortcut to get there first.
Josie lifted her
head for a moment and their gazes connected. As Grey stared into those
bright blue eyes, he felt his heartstrings being tugged. He could see she was
holding back tears. It wasn’t his intent to make her cry.
Hell! Seeing a woman cry was worse than eating a raw habanero
pepper. Both stuck in his craw.
He shook his
head. It wasn’t the girl’s fault her pa had been such a rascal. Leroy had
left her all alone in the world; that much was clear. Grey tore his gaze from
her and stared into the flames, trying to put himself in Leroy’s shoes for a
minute. The old man probably had the best intentions, which was to leave her
the nuggets and give her a second chance at life. A young woman without a man
to provide and care for her didn’t fare well in the wild and dangerous
west. Particularly when that woman was a half-breed. Still, that
didn’t give Leroy the right to steal another man’s loot—or her the right
to keep it.
“Look, Miss Hart,”
he started, wanting to get this settled.
“My name’s
Josie.” Her big, round, doe eyes peered up at him.
Grey’s heart
jumped inside his chest. The girl’s mouth was shaped like a little pink heart,
and her lashes were long and thick. Her hair was as black as a raven’s
feather. The long braid she wore down her back was loose, and stray
tendrils fell around her bronze face. Those blue eyes were about as
pretty as the ocean he’d read about in school. She looked young and
innocent, and would even be kind of attractive if she wiped that scowl off her
face.
“Look,” he
repeated, determined not to get distracted by her looks. “I apologize for
calling your pa names. And I also apologize for calling you a half-breed
a while ago.”
She sniffled and
wiped her nose with her shirtsleeve. “It’s alright,” she said,
softly. “You just spoke the truth. A person should never feel bad
about being honest.” She pulled the map from her back pocket. “I
guess this really is yours.” She stood, walked around the fire, and
handed the parchment to him. Then she went back to her spot, sat down, and
continued to study him behind damp eyelashes.
Puzzled, Grey
accepted the offering. “Why are you doing this? I’ve only known you a
short while, but I can tell you’re not the type of gal to give in to something
so easily. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re not putting up a better
fight.” He opened his black coat and slid the paper into an interior
pocket.
She shrugged.
“I don’t blame you for coming after me. I can’t keep what’s not
rightfully mine. My pa was a liar and a cheat. Everyone in Dry
Gulch, and the entire New Mexico territory, knew that. I suppose there
would be no reason for you to tell an untruth. That map must be
yours. Can I have my gun back now?” She fluttered her lashes and
held out her flattened palm.
Grey
dollars worth of gold on her?
Grey was sure
Leroy had made a map of some kind, because of that same miner who’d told him
Leroy had struck out north. When questioned about Leroy’s behavior
earlier in the day, the miner had admitted watching him draw some scribbles on
a piece of parchment. Leroy had apparently told the miner it was a card for his
daughter, but Grey knew better.
He’d observed the
girl in town, and had even followed her out to the farm that evening after the
hanging. He’d figured he could bully her into giving him the map, if he
had to. In town, he might have gotten himself arrested, but get her alone
on her farm, and he was sure she’d hand over the map with no questions
asked. The problem was, someone had beaten him to her.
From behind some
downed pinon trees, he’d watched as her cabin went up in flames. When her
mule came flying out of the barn and he saw Josie was headed toward the forest,
he’d kicked Lightning into a gallop and took a shortcut to get there first.
Josie lifted her
head for a moment and their gazes connected. As Grey stared into those
bright blue eyes, he felt his heartstrings being tugged. He could see she was
holding back tears. It wasn’t his intent to make her cry.
Hell! Seeing a woman cry was worse than eating a raw habanero
pepper. Both stuck in his craw.
He shook his
head. It wasn’t the girl’s fault her pa had been such a rascal. Leroy had
left her all alone in the world; that much was clear. Grey tore his gaze from
her and stared into the flames, trying to put himself in Leroy’s shoes for a
minute. The old man probably had the best intentions, which was to leave her
the nuggets and give her a second chance at life. A young woman without a man
to provide and care for her didn’t fare well in the wild and dangerous
west. Particularly when that woman was a half-breed. Still, that
didn’t give Leroy the right to steal another man’s loot—or her the right
to keep it.
“Look, Miss Hart,”
he started, wanting to get this settled.
“My name’s
Josie.” Her big, round, doe eyes peered up at him.
Grey’s heart
jumped inside his chest. The girl’s mouth was shaped like a little pink heart,
and her lashes were long and thick. Her hair was as black as a raven’s
feather. The long braid she wore down her back was loose, and stray
tendrils fell around her bronze face. Those blue eyes were about as
pretty as the ocean he’d read about in school. She looked young and
innocent, and would even be kind of attractive if she wiped that scowl off her
face.
“Look,” he
repeated, determined not to get distracted by her looks. “I apologize for
calling your pa names. And I also apologize for calling you a half-breed
a while ago.”
She sniffled and
wiped her nose with her shirtsleeve. “It’s alright,” she said,
softly. “You just spoke the truth. A person should never feel bad
about being honest.” She pulled the map from her back pocket. “I
guess this really is yours.” She stood, walked around the fire, and
handed the parchment to him. Then she went back to her spot, sat down, and
continued to study him behind damp eyelashes.
Puzzled, Grey
accepted the offering. “Why are you doing this? I’ve only known you a
short while, but I can tell you’re not the type of gal to give in to something
so easily. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re not putting up a better
fight.” He opened his black coat and slid the paper into an interior
pocket.
She shrugged.
“I don’t blame you for coming after me. I can’t keep what’s not
rightfully mine. My pa was a liar and a cheat. Everyone in Dry
Gulch, and the entire New Mexico territory, knew that. I suppose there
would be no reason for you to tell an untruth. That map must be
yours. Can I have my gun back now?” She fluttered her lashes and
held out her flattened palm.
Grey
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