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She couldn’t help but be impressed. Still, if Uncle Trace knew she had gone driving with him, there would be trouble. “I really should get back. I have a luncheon date.”
He glanced sideways at her. “Not a young gentleman, I hope?”
“Oh, no.” She laughed. “Just a girlfriend I don’t get to see often.”
“Good. I’d hate to think I have a rival. Here, we’ll cross this low creek and go back to town.”
“It looks a little deep,” Turquoise protested as he drove into the water and abruptly, the buggy stopped. She heard him swear under his breath, then he applied the whip to the horse. “Get up there, you lazy nag!”
“Stop!” Turquoise protested. “The horse is doing all it can. We’ve hit some mud, that’s all.”
He sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Well, I guess I’ll have to get my boots muddy.” He made an expression of distaste and stepped down. The water was halfway up the fine leather. “And I just bought these boots, too.”
“I’m so sorry,” Turquoise said.
“It’s not your fault,” he replied, smiling up at her.
“Perhaps I’d better go for help but I don’t want to leave you alone, my dear.”
“If you’ll just carry me over and set me under that tree, I’ll be fine until you return.”
“Of course, and I imagine you’re light as a feather.” He sluiced through the water back to her and she stepped off the carriage into his arms.
She knew immediately that this gentleman had no muscle to him, because he took two steps backward and then went down, cursing. They were now both drenched and sitting in the cold water.
“Damn it! This is so embarrassing.” Forester staggered to his feet as she scrambled to hers. “Excuse my language, Miss Turquoise, but this is a new coat besides the boots.”
“Mr. Forester, I’ll just go sit under the tree and you see if maybe you can drive the empty buggy out of the creek.”
“Good idea.” He reached up for the reins and the whip, but Turquoise protested again.
“It’s not the horse’s fault,” she said.
He looked humiliated. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just hate to be inconvenienced and I’ve ruined your dress. I think we passed a farmhouse about a mile up the road. Maybe they’ll have a team of work horses to get us out with. Will you be all right, my dear?”
“I’ll be fine.” She nodded and waded over to sit under the tree. “I don’t think I care to walk that mile with you.”
“Of course.” He sounded grumpy as he started off up the road. Turquoise watched him until he was out of sight, then sighed. Her pale aqua dress was soggy and she was getting cold. She glanced up at the sun. It must be near time to meet Fern for lunch and her friend would be worried. Worse yet, if Uncle Trace came back and found Turquoise missing, there might be hell to pay. Why had she been stupid enough to come on this outing?
She knew why; she’d been dazzled by the influence and the power of this handsome, refined man and he seemed entranced by her. Edwin Forester was the most eligible bachelor in town and every well-bred girl in Austin had set her cap for him. If she could get past Uncle Trace’s objections, what would it be like to snare the richest, most important man in Austin? She pulled her knees up and laid her arms on them. The black horse stood in the ankle-deep water and drank, flicking its tail at an occasional fly. It would be stupid to sit here and shiver and wait. Maybe she could get the buggy out of the creek herself. She was good with horses and Edwin didn’t seem to be.
Turquoise took a deep breath and waded out into the creek. Feeling around the front wheel of the buggy, she found the boulder that was blocking the wheel. If she could only lift it out of the way …
She struggled to lift it, but it was too heavy. Behind her, she thought she heard a rider approaching, but she ignored it, pulling again on the rock. It was slick and it slipped out of her hands, and she sat down in the water with a big splash, her white lace hat falling off. “Damn, damn, damn.” She watched her hat float down the creek.
“Well, hello, senorita, we meet again.”
She looked up to see Rio Kelly mounted on a fine bay horse as he reined in on the other side of the creek and leaned on his saddlehorn. He watched her, an annoyed frown on his dark face.
She had never felt so foolish. “Well?”
“‘Well’ what?”
“A gentleman would help me.” She kept her voice icy.
“After the trouble you caused me last night?”
“I’m sorry about that. Perhaps the senator overreacted.”
He snorted. “I’d say so.”
She tried to stand up, but her wet skirts threw her off balance and she plopped back down in the water. “Would you please help me?”
“I don’t feel inclined.”
She felt her temper rise. “Never mind. I’ll get myself out.”
“This should be amusing.” He reached in his shirt pocket for “makins,” then began to roll a cigarette.
“Are you just going to watch me?”
“Si. Oh, excuse me, Miss Sanchez. I know you are really white and don’t speak Spanish, it means—”
“I known what it means,” she snapped. Maybe she should try another tack. “Look, I—I am sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“Embarrass me? Ending up in jail overnight was a little more than that.”
“The senator said he just had the guards throw you out in the street.”
He glared at her. “Uh-huh. The senator is a liar.”
“I don’t believe you, and he’s none of your business.”
“You’re right. None of this is my business.” He leaned back in his saddle and smoked.
“Are you just going to leave me here?”
“Si, senorita. Let your fancy man get his boots wet.”
“I’ve never been treated so—”
“No, I’ll bet you haven’t. You’re spoiled and snooty, missy. It’s about time you learned the whole world doesn’t dance to your tune.”
“I will have you thrashed by the senator.” She was furious.
“Tell him to bring some help.” He didn’t smile as he smoked and watched her.
“I’ve never met anyone so rude.” She staggered out of the water, her small shoes squishing as she walked up to him.
He shrugged, looking down at her. For an instant, they stared into each other’s eyes. She thought for a split second he would reach down and lift her up on his horse. He was certainly strong enough to do that. What if he did and then tried to kiss her? If he did, how should she react? His lips looked full and soft and she had never been kissed before.
The buggy horse neighed behind them and the spell was broken. She stomped over and sat down under a tree.
Rio looked over the buggy critically. “Mighty fancy rig.”
“Senator Forester offered me a ride this morning as I was going shopping.”
“And there’s so many shops out here on the creek?” He raised one dark eyebrow at her and grinned.
“I do not like what you are insinuating!” She was furious, both with him and herself for getting into this situation.
“Senator Forester does not have a good reputation with women,” he said. “Everyone in Austin knows that.”
“That’s just dirty gossip,” she said, flaring. “He’s been a perfect gentleman with me.”
“Perhaps he is afraid of your guardian. Trace Durango has a reputation of being the best gunfighter in Texas.”
“Senator Forester is refined. I can’t imagine him brawling in the middle of the street or carrying a gun.”
“Like the rest of us uncivilized Texans?” Now he stroked his horse’s mane. “Well, I’ve got to go.” He turned his bay stallion. “Come on, Peso.”
She couldn’t help but notice the way he handled the horse, so different from Edwin Forester. “I’ve got to get back to town. I’m meeting my friend Fern for lunch at about one o’clock.”
Rio shaded his
dark face with one big hand and looked at the sun. “I’d say you’re late.”
“Oh, goodness. If I don’t show up, she’ll go looking for Uncle Trace and there’ll be trouble.”
“Imagine that. I’d like to be there to see that.”
“It may be awhile before the senator gets back. He’s gone for help at a farmhouse about a mile up the road.”
“I know the place. That’s where I was headed to see if they had any horses that needed shoeing when I came across you.”
She looked up at him. “Are you just going to leave me here?”
“Si.” He pushed his black Stetson to the back of his dark hair. “You’re not in any danger and since the senator is too stupid to get his own buggy out, I reckon he’ll bring help.”
“I’ll pay you to give me a ride back to town.” She kept her voice lofty as she leaned over and wrung some of the water out of the soggy aqua dress.
It was the wrong thing to say; she knew it immediately. “Senorita, I am not a paid servant. I was about to offer my help, but I can’t be bought. Besides, don’t you think you’ll be embarrassed to come down Congress Avenue in a soaked dress, riding behind a lowly Mexican vaquero? What would people think?”
She drew herself up as proudly as she could, standing there in that wet dress and squishy shoes. “Never mind. I’ll wait for Edwin to return.”
His eyebrows went up. “Edwin? You call him Edwin?”
“What do you care? If I don’t get back, Uncle Trace may find out and go gunning for the senator.”
“Half the people in Austin would pay to see that little drama. Well, adios, Miss Sanchez. That means—”
“Damn it, I know what it means!” she shouted at him.
“Hasta la vista then.” He tipped his hat with a smile and rode back the way he came.
She watched him with an incredulous stare as he rode away. “You come back here!” she yelled, but he didn’t even turn his head. His stallion broke into a lope and the pair rode out of sight.
She had never been so angry in her life. People had always danced attendance on her every whim and here was a poor vaquero who had turned down her money, given her tit for tat and left her standing here. She was steaming, but there was nothing to do but sit down under a tree and wait for Edwin Forester to return. In the meantime, she waded down the creek and rescued her soggy lace hat.
Rio rode back to his blacksmith shop and slowly unsaddled his horse. He would have given that little spitfire a ride back to town, but then she had started ordering him about and offering to pay him like he was some errand boy. He didn’t feel right about leaving a lady out on the road alone, but it was daylight and the senator was only a short distance away. Rio thought about spending the night in jail because of that pair and gritted his teeth. It served them both damned well if they had to deal with her overprotec-tive guardian.
He put away his horse and was firing up his forge when his little spotted dog, Tip, began to bark. Rio looked out the open door. A man in a buggy was driving up and stepping down.
“Hello there, hombre,” the man called. “We need to talk.”
“Buenas tardes.” Rio came out to meet him and noted the man was maybe close to forty, dark, and wearing a short, expensive Spanish jacket and flat western hat.
“I am Trace Durango.” The man stuck out his hand.
Uh-oh. Rio shook it, thinking about the girl. “What brings you to my small place, senor?”
Trace looked around, then reached down to pat the small mongrel. “I looked at the job you did on my ward’s mare yesterday. You did a good job, senor.”
“Gracias. I do my best.”
“I’ve got a lot of horses out at my ranch and my farrier has gone to Mexico City to visit relatives for a while. Might I persuade you to spend a week or two at the Triple D and do some shoein’?”
It would mean he could spend some time with the uppity beauty, but did he want to? She had treated him shabbily up to now. Maybe that was what intrigued him about her. He had plenty of women who were his for the asking, but the snooty girl who had had him thrown in jail was one he wanted to know better. “Senor, I might consider your offer. I have one vaquero who can keep my small ranch running for a while.”
“Good.” Trace Durango pushed his hat back and smiled. “I like you, amigo. Would you consider havin’ dinner with me tonight at Delmonico’s?”
“Senor Durango”—he made a dismissing, embarrassed gesture—“I do not have the clothes for a fancy place like that.”
“Nonsense. I have a private table in the back and the food is very good.”
“I have heard.” He was tempted. “Will we be alone?”
Trace shrugged. “No, my ward will join us, Turquoise Sanchez.”
“Oh?” He didn’t know for certain whether he wanted to face her sharp tongue. Suppose she told her uncle Trace about him abandoning her this afternoon? But the little vixen couldn’t do that without relaying what and whom she’d been out there with.
“You sound hesitant.” Trace grinned.
“She’s—she’s a great beauty.” Rio looked away.
“She’s that,” Trace agreed, “but has the temper of a sidewinder.”
“I agree.” Rio nodded. “Some man needs to take over.”
“No man so far has had the cojones to do so,” Trace said.
Rio smiled. “Maybe no hombre has been loco enough to want to. It would be breaking a mustang filly.”
Trace looked him over, nodding as if in approval. “Si, I think I would like to have you join us for dinner. It would be amusin’. Shall we say eight o’clock at Delmonico’s?”
Rio nodded. “Thank you, senor. I look forward to meeting your ward again.”
Trace turned back to his buggy. “Speakin’ of which, she ought to be gettin’ home from shoppin’ and her luncheon about now. I should be gettin’ back.”
Rio ought to let the little rascal get into trouble, but somehow, he didn’t want that to happen if she hadn’t returned to town yet. “Please, senor, I know you have a lot of expertise when it comes to beef and horses. Could I get you to look around my little ranchero and see what you think?”
Trace shrugged. “You do me a great compliment, senor, but si, I would be happy to see your place, especially if there’s some cerveza at the house.”
Rio grinned. “Beer cold from hanging in the well.” He nodded. “Let’s go!”
With the little dog accompanying them, they headed for the barn farther up the road.
Edwin finally returned and the farmer’s team pulled the buggy out of the mud. Edwin tipped the farmer handsomely. “There you are, my good man.”
The old farmer shook his head and muttered to himself about “dudes” as Edwin helped the soggy Turquoise into the buggy, snapped the little whip, and headed back to town.
“I’m so sorry, my dear. It was just an accident.”
Turquoise shaded her face with her limp, dripping hat. “I just hope my guardian isn’t back at the hotel yet.”
Edwin’s pale face turned even paler. “I hope not, too.”
They drove at a fast clip back to the hotel, Edwin looking very nervous as he reined in out front and rushed around to assist her. “Do you think your guardian will be upset?”
“Only if he finds out.” She stepped down.
“I’d like to see you again.” He took her hand.
“Send me a message,” she said, turned, and hurried into the hotel lobby.
Fern was pacing the lobby and turned. “Oh, there you are! I was worried sick when you didn’t meet me for lunch.” She glanced down. “Is your dress wet? What …?”
“Too much to tell. Have you seen my uncle?”
Fern shook her head. “Was that Senator Forester I saw helping you out of a buggy?”
Turquoise nodded with a conspiratorial grin. “Let’s go upstairs so I can change and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“My word, this is just too exciting!” Fern scurried along behind her up the stairs. �
��I want to hear each tiny detail.”
She’d have to let her friend in on everything and swear her to secrecy, Turquoise decided as she opened her door and they went in.
Fern flopped her chubby frame on the bed as Turquoise started to undress. “Now tell me what happened.”
“Well, it started last night at the ball.” Turquoise began to unbutton the wet dress. “Senator Forester actually asked if he could escort me from the stage.”
“No!” Fern’s mouth opened in astonishment. “Why, everyone says he’s the catch of the town, but no girl has hooked him yet.”
“You see,” Turquoise went on, “I was supposed to have an escort and didn’t know it, but Edwin is such a gentleman, he stepped in.”
“Edwin?” Fern squeaked. “You call him Edwin?”
“You must cross your heart and not tell anyone, but I think he’s wanting to court me.”
“My word!” Fern breathed in awe as Turquoise changed. “But the Foresters and the Durangos are enemies. Everyone in Texas knows that.”
“I know.” Turquoise paused and smiled. “It’s just like Romeo and Juliet, except I’ve got to bring peace between the two families before we could wed.”
“Wed? Why, Turquoise, that would be the biggest wedding Austin ever saw.”
“Of course, and he’s planning on running for governor,” Turquoise said as she changed. “Would you like to come to a party at the governor’s mansion or maybe visit me in Washington if he runs for national office?”
“My word!” Fern said with a gasp. “I’m not sure what I’d wear.”
“Well, just keep all this a secret for right now. My guardian would probably call him out if he knew.”
“Oh, this is so romantic,” Fern gushed. “It makes my and Luke’s story seem so dull.”
Turquoise frowned suddenly as she remembered the annoying vaquero. “There’s just one problem, one person who might tell Uncle Trace.”
Fern leaned closer. “Who?”
“Oh, never mind. I’m sorry we missed lunch.”
Fern shrugged and got up off the bed. “Oh well, maybe I can lose a little weight before my wedding. I reckon I’d better get back to the ranch before Daddy and Luke start wondering where I am.” The two girls hugged. “Honestly, Turquoise, you lead the most exciting life.”