dried meat, which she began to eat very delicately. How things eased between them so quickly, he didn’t know, but he was more than thankful for this truce settling over them. Being honest with himself, he had to admit that he deeply enjoyed being alone with her.
The sound of approaching riders carried to them there in the meadow. He could tell by the look on Rachel’s face that she heard the sound too but didn’t recognize it for what it was. A small army approaching. “You will ride astride in front of me,” he said, dropping the blanket to the ground and swiftly bridling his stallion. Grabbing Rachel around the waist, he threw her up onto his saddle. In a heartbeat, he was behind her, urging Oro to run like the wind.
PART TWO
“He is my stronghold, my refuge, and my Savior—
From violent men you save me.” 2 Samuel 22:3
CHAPTER TWELVE
Pausing deep in the trees, Roman and Rachel watched as the army of vaqueros, led by Rachel’s father, stopped to investigate the abandoned blanket in the middle of the meadow. Tio Pedro, on his palomino mount, stood out amid Rancho El Rio Lobo riders on all their dark horses. Roman knew there was little chance of outrunning Tyler’s vaqueros riding double with Rachel. And he wasn’t about to turn her over to her father today either. He wasn’t sure what he would do.
Antonio waited on the other side of the next hill. Roman turned his mount and spurred Oro through the woods in that direction, one arm firmly holding Rachel before him in the saddle.
Finding his vaquero, with the packhorse now ready for Rachel to ride, exactly where he’d told him to wait, Roman decided they would not continue to run. It would be too dangerous for Rachel if she wasn’t an experienced rider. And he had no idea what kind of rider she was. Just like he had no idea what kind of woman she really was, though his opinions were changing quickly about her.
Reaching Antonio, he took his time getting down from the saddle and lifting Rachel down as well. He would miss her warm body pressed against his. She was delicately built, slender, but soft in all the right places. Helping her down, he smiled reassuringly into her frightened face. “Let me put your gown and Bible in the saddlebags.” When she hesitated to turn them over to him, he explained, “You will need your hands free to ride your own horse now.”
After placing the book and nightgown in the bags, he helped Rachel onto the pack horse. The three then rode at a leisurely pace, waiting for their pursuers to catch up with them.
They rode for several hours without being overtaken. By then, they had traveled onto Rancho de los Robles land, following the creek that ultimately flowed past the Vasquez hacienda. Roman grew certain they were no longer being pursued. He had no idea why Tyler gave up the chase, but was happy for it. In Spanish, he told Antonio to ride on home without them.
Antonio nodded and spurred his horse into a gallop.
After he rode off, Roman turned to Rachel. “Do you need to rest?” He pointed to the inviting creek. “We could get a drink of water and stretch our legs for a spell.”
“Are we far from your home?” she asked with concern.
“Not far.” He stepped down from Oro and approached her horse. When he reached out for her, she tentatively leaned into his arms. He lifted her down, all the while searching her eyes for acceptance of his advances.
But as soon as her feet were on the ground, she stepped away from him, avoiding his gaze. The boy’s shirt offered about as much modesty as her nightgown had. She didn’t look back to see what he was doing with the horses, just quickly headed for the creek with its lush undergrowth and towering oak and cottonwood trees that would allow her some much-needed privacy, he supposed.
# # #
The growl came low and menacing from across the stream where Rachel knelt drinking water from the cupped palms of her hands. Looking up, she stared directly into the gleaming
The sound of approaching riders carried to them there in the meadow. He could tell by the look on Rachel’s face that she heard the sound too but didn’t recognize it for what it was. A small army approaching. “You will ride astride in front of me,” he said, dropping the blanket to the ground and swiftly bridling his stallion. Grabbing Rachel around the waist, he threw her up onto his saddle. In a heartbeat, he was behind her, urging Oro to run like the wind.
PART TWO
“He is my stronghold, my refuge, and my Savior—
From violent men you save me.” 2 Samuel 22:3
CHAPTER TWELVE
Pausing deep in the trees, Roman and Rachel watched as the army of vaqueros, led by Rachel’s father, stopped to investigate the abandoned blanket in the middle of the meadow. Tio Pedro, on his palomino mount, stood out amid Rancho El Rio Lobo riders on all their dark horses. Roman knew there was little chance of outrunning Tyler’s vaqueros riding double with Rachel. And he wasn’t about to turn her over to her father today either. He wasn’t sure what he would do.
Antonio waited on the other side of the next hill. Roman turned his mount and spurred Oro through the woods in that direction, one arm firmly holding Rachel before him in the saddle.
Finding his vaquero, with the packhorse now ready for Rachel to ride, exactly where he’d told him to wait, Roman decided they would not continue to run. It would be too dangerous for Rachel if she wasn’t an experienced rider. And he had no idea what kind of rider she was. Just like he had no idea what kind of woman she really was, though his opinions were changing quickly about her.
Reaching Antonio, he took his time getting down from the saddle and lifting Rachel down as well. He would miss her warm body pressed against his. She was delicately built, slender, but soft in all the right places. Helping her down, he smiled reassuringly into her frightened face. “Let me put your gown and Bible in the saddlebags.” When she hesitated to turn them over to him, he explained, “You will need your hands free to ride your own horse now.”
After placing the book and nightgown in the bags, he helped Rachel onto the pack horse. The three then rode at a leisurely pace, waiting for their pursuers to catch up with them.
They rode for several hours without being overtaken. By then, they had traveled onto Rancho de los Robles land, following the creek that ultimately flowed past the Vasquez hacienda. Roman grew certain they were no longer being pursued. He had no idea why Tyler gave up the chase, but was happy for it. In Spanish, he told Antonio to ride on home without them.
Antonio nodded and spurred his horse into a gallop.
After he rode off, Roman turned to Rachel. “Do you need to rest?” He pointed to the inviting creek. “We could get a drink of water and stretch our legs for a spell.”
“Are we far from your home?” she asked with concern.
“Not far.” He stepped down from Oro and approached her horse. When he reached out for her, she tentatively leaned into his arms. He lifted her down, all the while searching her eyes for acceptance of his advances.
But as soon as her feet were on the ground, she stepped away from him, avoiding his gaze. The boy’s shirt offered about as much modesty as her nightgown had. She didn’t look back to see what he was doing with the horses, just quickly headed for the creek with its lush undergrowth and towering oak and cottonwood trees that would allow her some much-needed privacy, he supposed.
# # #
The growl came low and menacing from across the stream where Rachel knelt drinking water from the cupped palms of her hands. Looking up, she stared directly into the gleaming
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