Love Finds You in Sundance, Wyoming (4 page)

Travis gazed into the dust-smudged visage of what must surely be a woman. He noted the long black curls and the wide brown eyes. The perfectly formed lips and her now obvious curves contradicted her attire, not to mention the gun strapped to her hip. His gaze strayed downward almost without his permission and flew back to her face, his own burning with shame. He’d never gawked at a woman’s figure before, and he’d have to repent for that later. Yes, he could definitely attest that this
was
a woman.

Nate cleared his throat. “Guess I’d best check on the men and horses, Boss.” He removed his hat and nodded. “Ma’am.” Just as quickly as he’d arrived, he turned tail and ran—like a scared jack-rabbit fleeing from a hawk. The least he could’ve done was stay and help Travis dig out of this hole. Travis shoved his hat to the back of his head.

He faced the girl again. Large eyes stared up into his. He’d thought his sister’s pretty, but these dark pools left him short of breath. “Who are
you?”
His words came out rough, and he noted the sharp intake of the girl’s breath.

“Angel Ramirez.” She withdrew the sombrero from under her arm and shoved it back onto her black curls.

He waited, sorting through his memory.

She lifted one shoulder and sighed. “Angel
de Luca
Ramirez.” She paused another moment. “Angelo de Luca. The tracker and horseman you sent for.”

Travis felt as though he’d been bucked from a bronco and the wind knocked from him. He couldn’t believe it—wouldn’t believe it. Women didn’t work for a living and pass themselves off as men. What he’d give to only have Libby’s expectations to deal with. He groaned. Now there were two strong-willed women on the ranch, and he didn’t feel equipped to deal with either.

Angel stared at the man who held her future in his hands and waited. If she didn’t land this job, she was finished. His blue gaze, deeper than a desert spring, made something flutter in her chest. But from his stern look he was none too happy with her information.

Then the stunned expression slowly softened to one of disbelief. “I beg your pardon?” His words held a hint of amusement. “I sent my telegram to a man, not a woman.”

Angel stiffened. The last thing she’d tolerate was someone laughing at her. She’d earned her place, and no one would take that away. “You sent your telegram to
me.”
She jabbed her thumb toward her chest. “
I
am Angelo de Luca. But my real name is Angel de Luca Ramirez.”

A grin creased Travis’s face, setting off a dimple in the corner of his cheek. “So who put you up to this? One of my cowboys?” He turned away and stared at the man standing nearby. “Nate. Who hired this girl to pretend to be de Luca? The jig is up, but it was a good joke.” He turned to Angel. “They find you in the dance hall?”

Angel’s blood thrummed in her ears. The smell of fresh-cut hay permeated the air, lending a false feeling of contentment in sharp contrast to the charged atmosphere.

She uttered a low cry and leapt at the man, swinging her closed fist. There’d been plenty of times growing up where she’d had to fight the boys in the band, and she’d learned to hold her own. Her knuckles connected with the man’s chin, and he staggered backward.

He caught himself, rubbed his chin, and stared. “What was that for?”

She kept her hands up for a moment, then slowly dropped them to her hips and glared. “For laughing at me. I’m one of the best marksmen and trackers in this country, and I’ll not be slighted like that.”

“Sorry, lady. I’m not buying it. You’ve earned whatever someone paid you. I’ll admit, you look like the real thing, and you throw a punch like one, but it’s time to come clean.”

Nate stepped up and tapped Travis’s arm. “Uh…Boss?”

Travis jerked his chin to the side. “Go drag the fella out here who came up with this idea. I’ve had enough.” He waved Nate toward the bunkhouse.

Angel turned and stalked for her horse. Rarely did she allow her rifle to be far from her reach, but running into this man had rattled her. She removed it from its sheath and checked the load. Full. Good. She drew a couple of two-bit pieces and a silver dollar out of her saddlebag and walked back.

She wouldn’t lower herself by talking to these men again until they understood. She withdrew her Colt revolver and placed the rifle against a nearby post. Without further warning, she threw the coin as high as her strength would allow, whipped up her revolver, and fired. The handgun boomed and the smell of gunpowder lingered in the air as the silver piece jerked with the impact of the bullet.

“You.” She motioned toward Nate, then dug a silver dollar from her pocket. “Put this on edge, face out, on the butt of that branch.” She flipped the coin through the air and smirked when he caught it.

“Huh?” The man stared at her like he didn’t have a brain.

She waved at the tree that must be at least fifty feet away and pointed at the dead branch positioned just above his head. “Put it against the trunk on that branch.” She spoke slowly, turned, picked up her rifle, and walked the opposite direction.

“Hey! What’re you doing?” Travis called after her, but she ignored him until she’d paced off another hundred feet. Far enough for a decent demonstration, but nothing like what she could do if she put her mind to it. Right now while shaking with anger was no time to push her limits.

She swung around. Nate stood near the tree. The sun glinted off the face of the silver dollar where he’d placed it. Perfect. “Move away from the tree.”

“What?”

She raised her voice. “Move away from the tree. Unless you’d like a chunk of bark in your face.” She cocked the rifle and raised it to her shoulder.

The man bolted, taking three leaps and landing not far from his boss.

Silence settled over the clearing, but Angel saw motion from the corner of her eye. She lowered the rifle and swung to the side. Three long-legged, dusty cowboys and a short, scrawny one stood gawking near what must be the bunkhouse. One whistled low between his teeth, and a big grin split the mug of another. Angel turned her head and ignored them.

“Hey, Boss. I’ll give you two-bits she makes it,” a voice called.

“Shut up, Arizona, or I’ll make
you
the next target,” Nate growled.

The man obeyed, but another cowboy took Arizona up on his bet.

Angel grinned. Their boss was due for a surprise, and she hoped these men would rub his face in it when she finished.

The door of the house banged open, and the woman who’d welcomed Angel stood on the porch, a boy by her side.

Angel hefted the rifle again and placed it firmly against her shoulder. No time to think of the people watching—she had to make this shot. Her reputation, her virtue, and her very identity had been questioned. She focused on the small, gleaming disk at the base of the branch, drew in a deep breath, and exhaled. Her finger tightened on the trigger, and she squeezed it slowly. The report of the gun sounded loud in her ear, but her focus stayed trained on the dollar. A split second later, the coin leapt in the air and completed a dizzying dance before landing a full stride away from Travis Morgan’s boots.

Travis rubbed his chin where the girl’s fist had landed as she walked toward him. How had he thought anything about her feminine? Ladylike she was not. More like a wildcat in trousers with a face pretty enough to make most men drop their guard. He stared at her as she lowered the .45-caliber Winchester. She was an excellent shot, he’d give her that. But Angelo de Luca? He shook his head and groaned. What in the world had he gotten himself into?

A sudden whoop split the air, and the four cowboys who’d stood frozen near the bunkhouse door came to life. Charlie, Wren, Arizona, and Bud all raced one another, pushing and shoving to reach the girl first. Smokey, their sixty-year-old grub slinger, ambled behind, a wide grin creasing his sun-bronzed face.

“Man, did you see that shootin’?” Arizona’s voice rose above the rest as the blond cowpoke beat the rest of the men to where the girl stood.

Wren caught up and elbowed him out of the way. The man might be built like a banty rooster, but he was wiry and tough when riled. “Outta the way, men. I wanna shake the hand of the woman who made that shot,” he crowed.

Charlie and Bud jostled for a spot beside the bemused girl, who didn’t seem able to take in the sudden change in the atmosphere. Charlie leaned close and stared at the rifle. “That one of them new Winchester repeaters I been hearin’ about? Saw an advertisement over to the store, but ain’t seen one of ‘em in the flesh.” He extended a hand. “Can I hold it?”

The girl came alive. She jerked the rifle close and took a step back. “No one handles my guns.” She turned toward Travis and raised her brows, the rifle cradled in her arms. “Well?”

He crossed the open space with Nate stalking behind. “Well, what? That was great shooting.” The words came out grudging and harsh—not the way he’d typically address a woman—but the painful memory of that punch left him on edge. Besides, the girl’s claim rankled. Range gossip couldn’t have gotten the facts so off kilter, neglecting to mention that Angelo de Luca was a woman.

“Do you believe me? I’m the person you hired.” Her expression grew cold. She slipped her hand into her breast pocket and removed a folded piece of paper. “See for yourself.”

He reluctantly took the paper. The telegram he’d sent lay exposed on his palm. “How? Why?” He scratched his head.

Nate stepped up and clapped him on the back. “Hey, Boss. Looks like you’ve hired a crack shot. If she can ride and track like she shoots, I’d say you’ve got a winner.” A beaming grin lit the man’s face. He swung toward the girl and his smile faded. “I think what the boss is trying to ask is how do you happen to be a girl, instead of the man we expected.”

Angel stared at him like he’d asked something incredibly stupid, then a smile peeked out. “How do I happen to be a girl? I reckon I was born one.”

Travis felt a surge of annoyance. He’d wanted to hire a man and got a young woman. “That’s not what Nate meant.” He folded his arms over his chest and tried not to glare. The cowhands hovered in the background, and by their moonstruck expressions this girl had more than captivated their interest. He swung around. “Find something useful to do.”

Arizona’s lips drooped, and he kicked a pebble. “Aw, Boss. We’d like to get better acquainted with the lady.”

“Now.” Travis pointed at the barn and the men scurried away, but more than one cast a glance over his shoulder.

Smokey stepped forward. “Guess I’ll rustle up some grub.” He tugged at the brim of his hat, smiled at the girl, and moseyed back toward the house.

Nate stood beside him, still staring at the rifle.

Travis held up the telegram. “I’d appreciate an explanation.”

The girl sobered. “Fine. I’ve worked for the past three years under my mother’s maiden name, de Luca. I’m using my own name now. Ramirez.”

“Why not use your own name to begin with? And why let people think you were a man?”

She bent an intent look on him. “Would you have hired a woman?”

He felt like he’d been punched again and wasn’t sure how to answer. He wouldn’t have asked a woman to take a man’s job and probably wouldn’t hire her even now. But her expression silenced him.