A Moment To Love by Jennifer Faye Page A

She found herself drawn in by his chocolaty depths. The more she worked past his prickly defenses, the more she liked him. She’d never imagined that they’d have so much in common. If this was another time, another place, they might be able to build on that connection—
    She had to get a grip on her rambling thoughts. Cord wasn’t any more interested in a relationship with her than she was with him. She had to stay focused on her plans for the resort and not on how much she enjoyed his touch. And now that she understood Cord’s ties to the land, her initial excitement over the prospect of building the resort dimmed considerably.
    When had Cord begun to matter so much to her?

 
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     
    V oices of the past murmured in the breeze. The whispers teased Alexis’s imagination, conjuring images of what Haggerty might have been like more than a hundred years ago. Her fantasy contained a street full of powerful horses with nostrils flaring, the rattle of buckboard wagons, and the hum of conversation between muscled cowboys wearing dusty hats and chaps.
    She cast Cord a sideways look. He was a modern-day cowboy, but something told her that he could have toughed it out with the best of them in the good old days. She, on the other hand, was quite happy with indoor plumbing and electricity. Very happy indeed.
    They strolled down the dirt lane past the broken hitching posts and came to a stop in front of the crumbling remains of a building. The lines of Cord’s tanned face had eased. Perhaps he’d be willing to share more about the town’s history. She’d have all sorts of things to report back to her father to hopefully placate him for a while. And it would keep her mind from wandering into dangerous territory—thoughts of what it’d be like for Cord to pull her close and kiss her.
    She walked closer to the barely-there structure. “Do you know what this used to be?”
    “A church. My great-great-grandparents were married here.”
    He certainly hadn’t exaggerated about his strong ties to the land. Her heart thudded against her ribs as she imagined being married out here in a flowing white dress while holding a fistful of wildflowers—and staring up at Cord’s smiling face.
    Wait. This wasn’t helping her to focus her mind on business. What was the matter with her? It must be a side effect of the desert sun’s strong rays. She ran the back of her hand over her warmed forehead. Her life was in New York—in the city—a place where this cowboy wouldn’t fit in. And at this critical juncture with the business, there wasn’t time for distractions—no matter how good they looked.
    She stepped through the gaping hole in the sidewall. She crossed the dirt floor, stopping next to the crumbling wall that now stood only waist-high. After brushing aside some loose pebbles and a bit of disintegrated adobe, she tested its sturdiness. Surprised to find the wall solid, she leaned back and took stock of her surroundings.
    On the far side, stones were still aligned for the fireplace, although time and weather had eroded most of the chimney. A sorrow came over her when she thought of all of the people, including Cord’s ancestors, who’d sacrificed everything to conquer this land but had ended up losing their savings, their dreams, and some even their lives.
    A movement caught her attention. She focused on the round stones by the fireplace. She squinted into the shady corner and spotted a coil of red rope. Strange—what would it be doing here? She stepped closer, only to find herself face-to-face with a snake.
    She jumped back. A lungful of air rushed up her throat and erupted in a scream. Cord’s large hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off the shriek. His other muscled arm wrapped securely around her middle. She pressed back against his solid chest. Her gaze never strayed from the snake.
    “You’re safe.” He spoke softly next to her ear. “If I let go, will you promise no more screaming?”
    She nodded,