Roz Denny Fox (11 page)

“You have some nerve.” Hayley found the strength to muster indignity. Already the wave of nausea was passing. “You don’t know anything about me. Nothing at all.”

“Is that so?” Jake let hostility cover his emotions. “You say you’re married, but I know your husband really left Tombstone with another woman. Maybe you should ask yourself if she was less vain, less concerned with looks and more mindful of good health.”

The minute the shock registered in her wide eyes, Jake wanted to retract his cruel words. Dishonest words.

“Leave!” she said through quivering lips. “I’m going into the trailer to change into dry things. I want you gone when I come out again.”

Jake called himself a million and one foul names as Hayley darted across the clearing and jerked open the trailer’s door. The pitifully tiny place she called home. Of course she wasn’t vain. He ought to be ashamed.

He was ashamed.

He hung around the fire for twenty minutes, wanting an opportunity to apologize. Jake gazed vacantly at various-size samples of ore she had sitting around in boxes. If she’d dug all of those samples today, no wonder she had a touch of sun fever. Some blue slabs glittered in the firelight. He didn’t know enough about rock and minerals to know if she’d found anything worthwhile.

He hoped she had. Jake felt like a rat. Lower than a rat.

After ten more minutes of silence, it became apparent that Hayley wouldn’t come out again until he left. He had no doubt that she never wanted to see him again. Shame overwhelmed him and ultimately convinced him to bow to her wishes.

He climbed slowly into Paprika’s saddle and then trotted the horse as close to the small side window in the trailer as he could get. “You can come out,” he called. “I’m leaving.”

Waiting, he listened, fully expecting to hear sounds of weeping, which would make him feel terrible—exactly what he deserved. Only silence greeted him. In a way it was worse than tears.

He rode off, keeping one eye trained over his shoulder. If she emerged before he lost sight of her camp, he’d turn back and beg her forgiveness tonight. As she kept stubbornly to herself, Jake knew he’d be riding this trail again in the morning. He only hoped that between now and then, he’d figure out some way to make it up to her.

W
ADE
C
OOPER
intercepted Jake as he tried to sneak into the house without going through the kitchen, where his parents were sure to be. He was still in a foul mood after the way he’d left things with Hayley. Tonight, food and family chitchat had fallen off his list of priorities.

“You’ve put in some long days in the saddle lately, son.” Wade placed a broad hand on Jake’s shoulder and turned him from the dark hallway toward the bright light spilling from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Jake grunted. “I’m bushed. Tell Mom a shower and sleep takes precedence over whatever she might have saved in the oven tonight.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear it.” Wade looked glum. “We’re on our own. Nell is firing kilns tonight. She and Eden are spending the night in town. I waited dinner. Thought you and I could throw together a batch of nachos. I already iced a six-pack of beer.”

Jake wavered at the threshold. His dad was so transparent. Since his accident, he wandered the ranch like a lost puppy. The whole family tried to look out for him—keep him occupied so he wouldn’t feel useless and start to overdo things. It surprised Jake that his mom had abandoned her shift. He said as much.

“It’s the new clay she bought in Tucson. She’d have stayed home, but I know how badly she itched to get her fingers in the new slip. I convinced her I was meeting John and some of the other ranchers to talk about water.”

“Is that how you spent the day?” Jake’s curiosity carried him into the room. He saw that Wade had already grated cheese and cut up jalapeños, tomatoes and onions; there was a bowl of black beans, as well as olives and a bag of large corn chips.

The elder Cooper twisted off the caps from two long-necked brews. He handed one to Jake, then set the other aside while he prepared the chips and popped them into the microwave. “John doesn’t want to wait for the Ryan woman to get bored. Pearce and Lowell would accept the original agreement if John and Marshall weren’t pressuring them to take action.”

“Action? What action?” Jake turned off the buzzer, grabbed an oven mitt and set the steaming plate between them on a thick pot holder. “Ben’s granddaughter filed legally. You checked. As long as she works the claim, we can’t force her to sell.”

“No. But John says there’s nothing stopping us from giving her money to abandon her claim.”

Jake bit into a jalapeño that made his eyes water. The chili pepper wasn’t all that burned. What John Westin proposed sounded like a cheap underhand trick to Jake. “How does John suggest you set fair compensation when no one knows the value of what Hayley’s prospecting?”

“Hayley? Pretty familiar aren’t you? But then, I suppose a woman might get friendly fast with a guy who took her five laying hens.”

Jake choked on his swig of beer. He should have known his dad would notice. The man had always had a sixth sense when it came to his boys.

“I hoped you planned to tell your mother. Soon as she figures out those hens are gone, she’ll be claiming the gray wolves Fish and Game released last winter got ’em. The way you stood up to the neighbors and backed that release program, I’m sure you don’t want to be responsible for its demise. Nell raised that flock from chicks, you know. John’s not the only one in the valley who can incite people to riot.”

“You’ve made your point. I’ll talk to Mom soon. And to be clear on another thing, Dad, nothing’s going on between me and Hayley. I’m just…well, concerned about her situation. Fool woman’s oblivious to what can happen along the border.”

“Then John’s plan should appeal to you. Take up a collection and help her move back to Tombstone posthaste.”

It did sound reasonable, Jake allowed. At least it did until he considered how stubborn Hayley was, how intent on self-reliance. “I don’t think she’ll go for the idea.”

“Why not? Surely she can’t enjoy toiling in the sun day after day, digging through rock until her hands bleed. Breaking her back for zip.”

“She’s got Ben’s pride and more.” The minute he said it, Jake realized he was making a judgment call. He didn’t really know Hayley Ryan, as she’d pointed out tonight. She might well take the money and run. The notion left a bad taste in his mouth. Or maybe it was the beer. He pushed the half-full bottle aside.

Wade licked cheese off his fingers and narrowed his eyes at Jake before he fumbled a napkin from the holder. “O’Dell wouldn’t even come to our house for dinner. Said he didn’t take handouts. Unlike his granddaughter, he’d never have accepted those chickens.”

Guilty color splashed across Jake’s angular cheekbones. “I told her if they produce eggs, she could pay me. Ten dollars for the lot.”

Wade choked. “Those prize chicks cost Nell twenty bucks apiece.”

Jake didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. The seed had been planted, and he didn’t even know if he should have stuck his neck out. But it was too late. Wade was weighing what he’d do if that was Eden or his wife dug in at the spring. Enough had been said. Unless there was a majority vote to buy Hayley out, Jake bet his dad would vote to leave her be.

Jake rose, rummaged in the fridge, then added slices of roast chicken to the next batch of nachos. He let the hum of the microwave fill the silence.

Both men tucked in to the newest platter with gusto. Talk gradually resumed and turned to the beef count and the upcoming roundup. Though Hayley’s name didn’t surface again, Jake’s mind conjured her up. He wondered if he should forewarn her of Westin’s plan.

Even though Jake told himself repeatedly that he’d done his part and should keep his nose out of it, he lay in bed that night and worried about the doggedness of the other ranchers. Westin hadn’t built an empire by avoiding land grabs. He’d been known to undercut neighbors. People didn’t dwell on it, but the truth was there if anyone cared to examine it. Jake had a hunch most partners in the coalition wanted the Triple C to possess the land surrounding the spring rather than letting Westin get his hands on it.

Jake already had his reasons for visiting Hayley in the morning. Technically he didn’t owe her anything but an apology, but as sleep continued to evade him, he mulled over ways to put her on guard. What could he say, though, that wouldn’t place all the ranchers in a bad light? Including the Coopers. After all, he’d been the first to approach her about leaving her claim—and then about sharing the spring.

By the time the milk cows began to low and the songbirds awakened, Jake had wrestled the problem every which way from Sunday—to no avail. He decided to deliver his apology and ignore the water issue. It was possible nothing would come of John’s proposal. Even if it did, Jake needn’t be involved. He’d already made up his mind that after today, Hayley Ryan was on her own. He had a job to do for the Triple C, and it didn’t include riding herd on a headstrong female.

Decision made, Jake would be hard-pressed to say what prompted him to fill two jugs with fresh milk before he saddled up, whistled Charcoal to heel and then set a straight course for the Blue Cameo mine.

H
AYLEY HAD SPENT
a sleepless night. By midnight not so much as a breath of wind wafted through her window screens. She’d spent the night thinking about her baby. About how she’d support a child if the mine didn’t produce. By law, Joe should pay support. But if he did, maybe he’d demand visitation rights. She couldn’t bear the thought of him having even the slightest influence over her child—or her. Support of any kind would make her beholden. By three in the morning she’d decided her only choice was to see that the Blue Cameo gave up its secret cache, whatever that might be.

This morning the air was quite humid and heavy, which added to Hayley’s exhaustion. She wondered if it was going to rain.

Jacob Cooper rode into her camp and dismounted in a cloud of red dust as she was trying to decide whether or not to haul yesterday’s ore samples inside. Hayley hated to admit she’d kept one eye on the trailhead, expecting, hoping, Jake would appear.

Though it annoyed her no end, her spirits lifted magically when he did.

She was pathetic. Really pathetic. Last night he’d insulted her. Desperate to hide feelings that made no sense, she opened her arms to the black-and-white dog and pretended to ignore his master.

“Morning.” Jake had had twelve hours to polish his apology. Hearing Hayley’s low laughter, watching his dog lick her face, wiped away any trace of polite conversation. It was all Jake could do to lift down the milk jugs and thrust them wordlessly into her hands. He’d never wanted to kiss any woman as badly as he wanted to kiss Hayley Ryan.

“Milk. So fresh it’s still warm,” she exclaimed. Her delight over his thoughtful gift blurred any lingering ambivalence. “Of everything I can’t pick up daily at the grocery anymore, it’s fresh milk I miss the most. Thank you, Jake.”

He took the jugs back as he fought the effect of her smile on him. “I’ll suspend these under the waterfall so the milk can cool. I hope a few glasses will settle your stomach.”

“My stomach?” Hayley went still and grabbed her middle.

Jake had started for the spring. Pausing, he glanced with surprise into her frightened eyes. There was no other word to describe the turbulence he saw there. “The heat, you know. You said it caused you to…well, throw up. I’m sure it’s not a pleasant memory. A steady diet of camp food can cause indigestion. Milk soothes the stomach. You can’t be sure it was the weather that made you sick,” he ended lamely.

“Oh. Sure.” Realizing how silly she must look holding on to her stomach, Hayley dropped her hands.

She was doing it again, looking fragile and…and soft. Shaken, Jake felt the need to say, “I had no right to lay into you last night. For all I know, you kicked your husband out. And he probably deserved it. Anyway, I’m sorry I upset you and then rode off like a jerk without apologizing.”

His contrition was so surprising and complete, Hayley felt as if she’d been thrust backward through a knothole. During their brief marriage, Joe had done a lot of things he should have said he was sorry for. The word hadn’t been in his vocabulary. Gramps, too, came from the old school where men lived their lives to suit themselves. Women fit in and adapted, or they lumped it. Jacob Cooper would very likely be shocked to know he’d just atoned for all the men in Hayley’s life. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to hear that men could feel regret for the hurt they so often caused women.

She sank into one of the lawn chairs and ran her fingers through the collie’s soft fur. “Joe, that’s my husband, er, ex. He…he…did leave town with another woman. Which doesn’t give me license to take my feelings of inadequacy out on you.”

Jake had met a lot of divorced women. In his experience, a few were willing to share blame for the breakup of their marriages. Most placed the culpability squarely on the man. Hayley’s unvarnished statement of fact told Jacob a lot about her character. “Look, I don’t want you to think I went out of my way to be nosy. My mom and dad were in Tombstone the day after I met you. They heard all that stuff.”

“Gossip is the lifeblood of mining towns.”

“Ranch towns, too.”

“I’m sure. How did my name happen to come up? Why?”

Her straightforward questions made Jake uncomfortable. “It wasn’t that we doubted you had a good claim. But…well, Dad hoped Ben had told someone about his deal with the Triple C. We should have known if he’d told anyone, it’d be his next of kin.”

Hayley’s fingers clutched convulsively in the dog’s fur. “There you go, making assumptions again. Gramps’s poker partner knew this claim existed. I didn’t.”

“Wh-where did you think he went for months at a time every year?”

“Prospecting. When I was little, he took me along. After I reached school age, he left me with a friend who taught me sewing, cooking and such.”

“He wandered off for months on end and left you alone? That must have been rough.”

“I’m not complaining,” she said lightly. Too lightly.

“So if you weren’t aware the Blue Cameo existed, I guess you really don’t know what Ben was after.” Jake started to wave a hand and realized he still hadn’t submerged the milk in the water. Worried that he was prying again, he told her she didn’t owe him an answer. He hurried to the spring.

Wanting to make amends, Hayley stood up and brushed the dog hair from her hands. “Are you any good at reading streak plates?”

Jake made a half hitch in the rope he’d threaded through the jug handles. “Excuse me?”

“You know. The color of powder left behind when any given mineral is rubbed over the cut edge of an unfinished tile or unglazed porcelain streak plate defines what’s been found.” It sounded as if she was reciting a definition from a textbook. Which, essentially, she was.

“Is that all there is to prospecting for, say, diamonds or gold?”

“There’s the Mohs scale, too,” she said matter-of-factly. When Jake shrugged, she went into a little detail. “For hardness. The scale indicates what mineral scratches another mineral. Talc is number one. Diamond is number ten. Gypsum, calcite, feldspar, quartz and topaz and corundum are a few that fall in between. The Mohs is a novice prospector’s Bible. Someone experienced, like Gramps, identifies minerals from the way they break. I have to run all the tests.” She sighed. “These are the samples I dug yesterday.”

“Sounds like a lot of work for maybe no reward,” Jake ventured.

Her chin shot up to the angle he’d begun to recognize as determination. “There’ll be a big reward,” she insisted.

Jake tucked his hands in his back pockets and headed for his horse. He’d ridden Mojave again today, and the bay gelding looked up with interest and began to move toward him. Freeing a hand, Jake grabbed the reins. “I wish you luck, Hayley. I’ll try to stay out of your hair from now on. Next week we start roundup. From time to time we’ll send a man to open the valves to the ditches.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket. “These are the brands you’ll deal with from now to November. If a horse carries any of these brands, please don’t shoot the rider.” His eyes teased as he handed her the list.

“This sounds like goodbye.” Hayley almost dropped the paper.