Chapter Six

Josie felt a prickling along her neck as she neared the stables. A feeling that she wasn’t alone and that someone other than Clay was out there.

She glanced around the ranch yard. Horses shifted restlessly in the corral. A cloud moved across the moon, extinguishing any light. Closer, a breeze ruffled her short hair and sent a chill down her back.

Cautiously she pushed open the door, gripping the flashlight she carried, realizing it made a lousy weapon. Raymond must have come back, just as Clay had predicted.

A sound came from out of the darkness.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

Silence. Then she heard the scrape of boots as someone approached, but in the opposite direction from where she’d thought she’d heard something.

A cowboy rounded the corner, his western hat slanted low over his face. As he shoved the hat back, she half expected to see Raymond Degas’s face.

“I figured you’d want to go for a ride,” Clay drawled. “I was hoping for an invitation.”

Her first instinct was to be rude. But she was too relieved it’d only been Clay. Also, as jumpy as she was, she didn’t really mind if he rode with her tonight.

She just needed to get out, to feel the freedom of being on a horse. And she figured she couldn’t get rid of him no matter what she did. She might as well have him where she could see him, as Ruth had suggested.

“I guess you might as well,” she said, heading for the tack room. “You’re determined to hang around, anyway.”

He laughed as he joined her in the tack room, filling up the small space with his presence. “With an invitation like that, how can I refuse?”

She shoved a saddle at him, feeling his gaze on her. She didn’t dare lift her eyes to his. “You can ride Lady. She’s about your speed.”

He backed out of the tack room. “You’re too kind.”

“I’d hate to see you on your backside.” Again. She remembered the last time she’d watched him try to ride Diablo at his ranch in Texas.

“I’d think you’d have had your fill of horses for the day,” he said as they saddled up.

“I could never get my fill of horses. They’re intelligent, graceful and loyal, with a willing nature.” Everything that men weren’t.

And she’d always loved to ride at night. Now she usually rode in the afternoons, taking Ivy with her. But she missed riding hard and fast under a vast night sky. She used to believe she could outrun her troubles. She didn’t anymore.

THE NIGHT WAS DARK, only the faint hint of the moon hidden behind a thick bank of clouds as they rode out. No stars. Just shades of darkness splattered across the tall grass.

Clay rode out ahead of her. She’d always loved seeing him in the saddle. He rode tall, assured, as at home on a horse as he was anywhere. Sometimes he seemed to love horses as much as she did. Those times she felt herself soften toward him. A pull stronger than gravity.

She’d felt the same way earlier, watching him with Ivy. Who knew the man could possess such tenderness?

She let the wind blow back her hair as she loped across the field to catch him. The breeze caressed her face, the horse beneath her soothed her, and the night seemed filled with an electric excitement.

He seemed as lost as she was in the ride, his face turned to the black rough line of the mountain peaks and the clouds that hung like a shroud over them, hiding more than the moon from the night, making the vast landscape seem smaller, almost intimate.

They didn’t speak as they rode toward the light-colored bluffs of the old buffalo jump. The darkness felt thick with an eager silence as if holding its breath.

Josie brought her horse to a halt at the bottom of the cliffs and climbed down to stare up at the rough rock face. She often rode up here, thinking sometimes she could feel the history that lingered like the dying sun on the rocks. Tonight, though, she felt nothing but the man beside her as Clay dismounted and joined her.

She sensed his body heat as if it were drawing toward her. The masculine scent of him mixed with the smell of leather and horses. Intoxicating. Her body felt alive, everything magnified as if this were her first night here, as if she were experiencing it all for the first time. Seeing it, feeling it, sensing it not only through her own eyes but through his as well.

He was close. Too close. To her. To the truth.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse with unexpected emotion. He knew that this place was special to her, the same way he’d known she’d want to ride tonight. He knew her, better than any man ever had. And yet, he didn’t know her at all.

She looked over at him, surprised that he understood what this place meant to her.

He smiled, acknowledging that surprise. But it was a sad smile full of regret.

She wanted to say something, but the moment seemed lost. Was Ruth right? Had she misjudged him? Just as he had her? Was that why it surprised her when he knew anything halfway good about her?

“We’d better get back,” she said, mounting up. She hated to cut her ride short, but she realized this had been a bad idea. Being alone with Clay only reminded her of Texas and the past.

She rode toward the Madison River and the ranch, letting the horse run, thankful Clay didn’t try to catch up to her or, worse yet, try to talk to her. She didn’t like the feeling that she might be wrong about him. Wrong about herself.

She reminded herself why Clay was here. To find the jewels. And the thieves. If she was smart, she’d be very careful. Thinking of Clay as anything other than the enemy would be a huge mistake. One she’d made once before. And look how that had turned out.

She raced through the tall grass, letting the horse go, the wind roaring past along with the darkness. In the distance she could see the ranch, the yard light glowing.

She headed for it, knowing Clay wasn’t far behind, and slowed to let her horse cool down.

But Clay didn’t catch her until she reached the ranch yard. She pulled up short when she saw the expression on his face.

“What is it?” she asked in a whisper, his gaze scaring her.

He stared at her as if seeing a stranger. Did he really know this woman? It appeared not. But at the same time, he wondered if he knew her even better than he thought he did. Much better.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her. “Why?”

She eyed him for a moment, then shook her head and dismounted to lead her horse toward the stables.

“You ride very well,” he commented, trying to hide the true extent of his surprise as he dismounted and followed her toward the stables.

He’d never known she could ride like that. He’d watched her gallop across the pasture, the dim moonlight illuminating only her pale blond hair and the light-colored flanks of the horse beneath her. She looked like a spirit, some night sprite. Just the reflection of a woman on a horse riding through the night.

Stunned, he realized he’d seen her ride like this once before. His heart quickened, his pulse pounding at his temple as he remembered Josie in the dream. And then in the pen earlier with the unbroken stallion.

It was possible that Josie had ridden Diablo.

The realization hit him hard, filling his head with all the implications. If she could gentle a stallion like she had today, if she could ride like she had tonight, if she had ridden Diablo that night in Texas—

“Are you all right?”

Her voice dragged him from his thoughts. He looked down at her. She stood next to him, looking at him with concern in her gaze.

“I’m fine,” he lied as he reminded himself of all the reasons that night had been nothing more than a dream. There weren’t as many reasons anymore, though. But one good one still remained. When he’d made love to the Josie in his dreams, she’d been a virgin.

The wildest thing east of the Pecos, a virgin? Still, he couldn’t shake the image of her on that horse tonight. One with the horse. As confident on a horse as she was with Ivy.

He realized her gaze was still on him, questioning. “I feel as if you cut your ride short because of me. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head and looked away. “I was ready to get back.”

At least that sounded like the truth. He unsaddled the horse and took the saddle into the tack room, which someone had put back in order. He couldn’t help wondering what Raymond Degas had been looking for in here.

When he came back out, Josie had put the horses in the corral and stood looking toward the barn on the far side of the stables.

He felt his heart rate jump at the expression on her face. “What?”

“I heard something over by the barn,” she whispered, sounding as if she hated to be the one to tell him. Hated that it was happening again. Was it possible she was as confused as he was about all this? “It sounded like it was coming from one of the horse trailers.”

“Stay here,” he ordered, and took off at a run toward the barn. He was only mildly surprised to hear Josie hot on his heels.

It had to be Raymond, he thought as he slowed beside the barn, wishing he had a weapon. He’d left his pistol locked in his truck, not wanting it around the baby.

He chastised himself for going on the ride. He should have stayed here and watched for Raymond. Except he didn’t like letting Josie out of his sight. Because he couldn’t trust her. A lie. Because he was worried about her.

That little bit of honesty concerned him. He was letting a woman, who was more than likely a jewel thief—at the least, an accomplice—distract him from what he had to do.

At the horse trailers, he turned to look back at Josie. She had an anxious, worried look on her face that made him wonder if she wanted to talk to Raymond as badly as he did. Maybe more. With Odell dead, Raymond might be the only one who knew where the jewels were. Or he might be the only one alive who could implicate her in the jewel robbery. Blackness bathed this side of the barn, making the horse trailers barely distinguishable. Clay followed the faint rustling sound. Was someone searching one of the horse trailers? It wasn’t until he was so close he could touch it, that he saw which trailer it was. Josie’s. The one she’d taken when she left Texas.

He’d known she was gone for good when he’d heard she’d taken not only her clothes but her truck, horse, horse trailer and tack.

The consequences of Raymond banging around in her horse trailer only further fueled his suspicions. He glanced back at her, telling himself he’d be a fool to turn his back on this woman for long.

He had that “I told you so” look on his face, the one that infuriated her so. Was it now her fault that someone was in her horse trailer? She felt sick inside. First the man in the pines. Then someone in the tack room. Now her horse trailer. Why? And who was it? Raymond Degas?

But what worried her most was the look in Clay’s eyes when he’d come riding in a few minutes ago. He’d looked as if he’d seen a ghost. As if she’d done something to make him more suspicious of her.

She followed him now, keeping close, hoping against all hope that he was wrong. That whoever was rummaging around in the trailer wasn’t Raymond. Wasn’t anyone she knew. Didn’t have anything to do with the jewel robbery or Texas or Odell or the past. And especially had nothing to do with her.

But she knew it was too much to hope for.

Clay motioned for her to keep back, his expression threatening. She nodded grudgingly and moved back some as he approached the trailer’s side door. Her boot toe stubbed something solid and metallic in the tall grass. She bent down to pick up a foot-long piece of galvanized pipe. A weapon.

This time, no matter who came out of that trailer, she planned to be ready. She wasn’t going to have Clay say she’d helped the culprit get away. Not again.

He’d reached the side door to the trailer. She watched him grasp the door handle. So sure of himself, so confident that this time he’d catch Raymond. And catch her as well.

She edged back when he wasn’t looking, slinking into the darkness behind the trailer, then working her way around to the other side.

Her horse trailer was old with a stall in the back and an antiquated camper of sorts in the front. It had been her father’s when he used to show horses. He’d replaced it with newer, fancier ones as his sons took to the road to show the O’Malley Ranch horses. He’d given his old one to her.

It was supposed to be some sort of punishment because she was often at odds with him over any number of things including his methods of horse training. But she loved the old trailer. To her it was a status symbol. She hadn’t sold out. She’d held fast, and if an old horse trailer was the price, then it was well worth it.

The only exit other than the locked horse stall door at the back was the door Clay was guarding, but she knew that a person could get out one of the side windows. She also knew she’d left it open to air out the old camper.

From the other side of the trailer came the sound of the door creaking open, followed instantly by hurried movement. Then a cry of surprise, trailed by a loud oath.

She had the pipe raised and ready when the intruder came flying through the torn window screen. She swung on pure instinct, but fortunately missed as a large raccoon took off across the pasture.

A laugh escaped as she dropped the pipe, relieved tension rushing out of her like air from a busted balloon. But as Clay came around the side of the trailer and she caught the embarrassed expression on his face in the yard light, she burst out laughing.

“Raymond got away again,” she said between hiccups of laughter. “Only this time I think he was wearing a mask.”

“Very funny,” he said, dusting at cobwebs on his jeans. “You’re in trouble and you and I know it. Sooner or later it’s going to come home to roost. Maybe it already has.” He turned and started up the hillside without looking back.

She took a deep breath, the truth of his words stilling the laughter. But she couldn’t help smiling at the memory of the raccoon flying out the window—and the look on Clay’s face.

Her smile faded at the sudden memory of another face. This one staring out of a stand of pines. Watching her and Ivy.

Clay was right. Except her troubles had already come home to roost. When he’d blown into town, bringing with him her past mistakes.

The problem was, she didn’t know yet what to do about it.