“She can’t know,” Rafael groaned.
“Why not? Daniel, what is going on?” Madre likely would have put her hands on her ample hips if she weren’t helping to support Rafael.
“Tried to stop stage,” said Rafael.
“Why would you do that?” She lapsed into Spanish, calling on the saints and muttering indignations.
“He wanted to see Miss O’Malley. But people who stop stages are generally robbers.” Daniel glared at his brother.
“Did you do nothing to stop them, Daniel?”
“He...tried,” huffed Rafael.
His brother’s shortness of breath worried Daniel.
Madre shot him a dark look as they maneuvered Rafael through the doorway. “It was just a misunderstanding.”
“There was a gunfight,” Daniel said. “I don’t think anyone is going to call it a misunderstanding.”
“You shot at people?” screeched Madre, but she was looking at Daniel.
Rafael met his eyes, and Daniel closed his.
“No, Ma. Daniel didn’t shoot at all,” Rafael said and then stopped to pull in some breaths. “I did.”
“You would not defend your brother?” she demanded of Daniel.
“God, Ma.” Daniel tensed and then lowered his voice. He had no idea where the girl who helped Madre about the house was. She might be in earshot, although he hadn’t seen her. “It wasn’t my intention to help him stop a stagecoach. Now we can’t let Miss O’Malley know, or who knows what she’ll do.”
“Listen to him, Ma.” Rafael heaved in a whistling breath. “’S right. Anna can’t find out.”
“Oh, my poor angel.” Madre stroked Rafael’s hair.
All the way home, Daniel had just been thinking he had to get Rafael home before he collapsed, but now a hell of a lot more problems had to be dealt with.
“No one can know that it was Rafael, Ma. Otherwise they might arrest him.” Of course, he’d be arrested, too. And they’d both be hanged. Daniel’s throat tightened as if a noose were already strangling him.
“Go...get her...late,” mumbled Rafael. “If no one...”
If no one picked her up, people might wonder what was amiss. If even a whiff of suspicion came their way, they might suspect Rafael had something to do with the gunfight. It wasn’t fair that a lot of the new white settlers looked down on people of Spanish descent, but they did. He would have to go get Miss O’Malley. And Rafe was right; it had taken them so long to get back, he’d be late.
“Did they see your horses?” asked Madre. “You will have to get rid of them. Shoot them.”
A shudder ran down Daniel’s back.
He looked out at the winded animals that had galloped their hearts out getting them home. His mount bore a white blaze on its forehead and the single stocking on its back leg made it identifiable, and even though Rafael’s horse was a solid dun, the color was unusual enough to stand out. “I’m not shooting the horses.”
“Then you will get your brother hanged over a misunderstanding.” Madre glared at him. “You will shoot the horses.”
“Because that wouldn’t be a dead giveaway that we were involved,” muttered Daniel. She couldn’t be serious.
“You will do as I say,” Madre hissed.
“Ma,” Rafael protested on a puff of air. His voice was too faint. Madre turned her attention back to her favorite son.
“We just need to take care of Rafe.” Daniel steered his brother through the door, bearing most of Rafael’s weight.
“You still have to get rid of the horses,” she said.
Madre was right. The horses had to go, but he wasn’t shooting the poor animals.
“I’ll set them loose in the hills. I’ll tell the sheriff and your—” Daniel found himself unable to say bride for some strange reason “—your Miss O’Malley that the horses were stolen overnight, and you’re out tracking the horse thieves. That’ll explain why I’m picking her up and provide cover if anyone recognized our horses.”
“Good thinking,” Rafael murmured.
They passed through the long front section of the house into the open courtyard. “Get him patched up enough to hide his injury. Plus Miss O’Malley will need her own room.”
“But you were to go to the priest and marry her before leaving town,” said Madre.
“Can’t hide...gunshot from...a wife,” huffed Rafael.
Madre opened her mouth to say something.
“Open his door and get his bed ready, Madre,” Daniel said.
She threw back her shoulders and glared at him. She would hate that he was ordering her around, but he didn’t have time to coax cooperation out of her. Instead, he poked Rafael, so he’d prod her. Rafe had much better luck getting their mother to do things.
“Please, Ma.” Rafe slumped against his brother.
They staggered across the courtyard toward Rafe’s room.
Pressing her lips together, she hurried ahead to open Rafael’s door and yanked down the covers on the freshly made bed.
“Damn, this messes...up...every...thing.”
Daniel leaned close to his brother. “You’ll just have to wait until you’re healed to marry her. Tell her you’re giving her a chance to get to know you before...” Daniel’s ears heated as he thought of his brother bedding the pretty redhead. Not that women ever seemed to require a long acquaintance with Rafael before they were willing to share intimacies with him. In fact, they rarely even noticed anyone else in the room once Rafael flashed his smile at them. Although, neither of them had a lot of experience with respectable women. “After all, she’s been raised to expect courting.”
Anna wasn’t the kind of fancy piece men traveled to San Francisco or into Mexico to find. She was a rarity in California: a respectable unmarried woman. Even back when the rancheros had gotten together for regular fiestas and the daughters of the other ranch owners were there, they’d gravitated toward Rafael and all but ignored Daniel.
“But...” Rafael frowned.
“With Madre in the house, there is no impropriety.”
Rafael lowered his eyelids in an almost sleepy look.
Daniel wanted to kick him for even thinking about seducing his future wife. He shook his head at the odd spurt of jealousy.
Daniel got Rafael on the bed and backed toward the door. “You got this, Ma?”
“Daniel, you stay here and help,” ordered Madre.
“He needs t’ go.” Rafael insisted. “Can’t let it get any later.”
* * *
The light grew murky as Daniel neared the edge of town. He’d run the horses as much as he could but had had to slow them to a walk rather than look as if he was in a crazed hurry.
First he’d pick up Anna, then head to the sheriff’s, report the horses stolen and determine what the sheriff knew. Really, though, the idea of a rancher with one of the biggest spreads around stopping a stagecoach was ludicrous and the best protection they had against the law putting two and two together.
He tried to slow his breathing. If she recognized him from that moment when they’d