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  “This won’t be enough for you, eventually,” she whispered worriedly when his head lifted, because even at the chaste distance, she recognized the tautness of his body, the coiled need.

  “Maybe it won’t be enough for you, either, eventually,” he whispered back and smiled. “Don’t worry so. We’ve got all the time in the world to discover each other—mentally, emotionally, and physically. All right?”

  She smiled with pure adoration. “All right.”

  “You’d better go and get dressed before Aggie hears the news from Montoya. The element of surprise is on our side right now.”

  “She won’t mind, will she?” she asked, frowning.

  “Is that likely?” He smiled again, and watched her go out the balcony doors and on to her room. When she was out of sight the smile faded. He had his own doubts about whether or not Gaby would be able to give him what he needed. In the meantime, he’d foxed her into an engagement and he could stop her from selling out Casa Río to the enemy. He could watch her; he could even take care of her. Most of all, he could indulge the new feelings she aroused in him and find out what and why they were. He’d never loved; now he wondered if this was it.

  He turned back to his closet and started to dress. At least the Teton man was out of the picture. Now all he had to do was get Aggie back to normal and put Gaby in his pocket. He felt on top of the world. Everything was going his way.

  Bowie was downstairs before Gaby, so he broke the news to his mother alone. Aggie took the development with a pointed smile. “My, my, you’re making sure, aren’t you?” she asked.

  He glowered at her. “I care about Gaby.”

  “You care about Casa Río,” Aggie replied shortly. “You broke up my engagement to keep it, and you’re not beyond appropriating Gaby to keep it. Tell me you love her, Bowie.”

  He couldn’t—not yet. His jaw tautened. “Love will come.”

  “Will it? You want her—a blind man could see that. But she’ll need careful handling and a lot of love. I don’t think you’re capable of it. If you were, you’d never have gone to such lengths to try and break up my relationship with Ned. I know why you went to Texas, Bowie. You and I share the same lawyer,” she said, noting his surprise. “He called to tell me what you were up to, and I told Ned. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He said that if I trusted him, I’d marry him on the spot, before you started digging deeper, but I refused. I said that if he loved me, he’d tell me the truth. One thing led to another, and I sent him packing—because of you, dear boy,” she muttered.

  He sighed wearily and lit another cigarette. He seemed to have done nothing but smoke lately. “I’m sorry,” he said tersely. “I didn’t mean for it to happen that way. I had every intention of checking him out and shooting him out of here,” he added, his black eyes flashing as they caught hers. “But I wouldn’t have done it under the table.”

  “I’d like to believe that,” she said. “But I know how you feel about the land. Copeland drilled heritage into you until you’re bloated with it.”

  “I care about you, too, in my way,” he returned curtly. “Even if Gaby and Courtland do rate first with you.”

  Aggie avoided the accusation in his dark eyes. “Well, what’s done is done, isn’t it? I can’t go back and undo the damage I’ve done, any more than you can. Maybe if I’d been a little more attentive to you, you wouldn’t have resented another man here.” She lifted her face proudly. “None of that matters now, though. You’ve done what you set out to do. Ned’s gone, and he’s too proud to come back after the way I refused him.”

  He sighed heavily. “It could have been infatuation.”

  “Like what Gaby feels for you?” she taunted, and watched the dart hit home. “She’s into her first real crush, and you’re it. How does that feel, when she’s getting so deep under your skin that you can’t move for feeling her there?”

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. “We won’t discuss my feelings.”

  “How could we, when you won’t even admit them?” she challenged. “You’re leading Gaby up the garden path, but when she finds out why, her infatuation is going to die a nasty death. And if your heart is vulnerable, you may find that love hurts more at your age than it does at hers,” she added curtly. “You may eventually understand how devastated I am to lose Ned. If that happens, I may even feel sorry for you.”

  “I don’t need your damned pity,” he shot back. “I don’t think I love her.”

  Which was just what Aggie was trying to pry out of him. She smiled coldly. “As I thought,” she said softly. “Don’t underestimate her, my dear. Gaby isn’t a fool, even if you’re playing her for one. You knew what I intended doing all along, didn’t you?”

  “I had my suspicions,” he replied.

  “And they were justified,” she replied. “I’m tired of being a pawn in your lust for Casa Río. I spoke to my attorney in Tucson this morning. I’m going on an extended holiday, and I’m going to start things in motion signing over the property to you and Gaby, with one minor variation on your father’s theme,” she added with a cold smile. “Gaby gets fifty-one percent, you get forty-nine. If you go to war over the agricultural conglomerate, Gaby wins. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, damn you.”

  She got up and walked out of the room, leaving Bowie grim and silent with rage. He’d expected it, but it was devastating all the same. Aggie had made him admit his motives, and he wasn’t too pleased with them. They tarnished in daylight, and made him feel cheap. But there was more to it, his mind protested. It wasn’t all because of Casa Río. Gaby made him feel protective and tender. She aroused desire in him, but a new kind of desire that wasn’t selfish or cruel. She made him want children and a family of his own to love and be loved by. He couldn’t tell Aggie that. He didn’t want to face the implications of it, because they made him vulnerable, for the first time in his life.

  Gaby, blissfully oblivious to what had just happened in her absence, was just coming down the staircase as Aggie started up it.

  “I’ve just given you controlling interest in Casa Río,” Aggie told her. “I’m going into Tucson to sign the papers, and then I’m going down to Nassau for a few weeks. I still have the money Copeland left me when he died, and a good bit of my own. I don’t need Casa Río. I’m tired of having Bowie interfere in my life over love of it. But I’ve complicated things for you, and I’m sorry.”

  Gaby felt a rush of fear. Now she could never be sure if Bowie wanted her or Casa Río. He was fanatical about it, about his heritage. He’d proposed this morning, but had he suspected what Aggie was going to do? He read people so well.

  “It’s because of Ned, isn’t it?” Gaby asked with cold chills running up her arms. “Bowie did do something to help break you up.”

  “You think I’m getting even?” Aggie sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I am. I hurt, Gaby. I hurt as I haven’t since Copeland died, and Bowie’s to blame—at least, partly. I have to get away. I don’t want to fight anymore; I just want to be left alone.” Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Gaby said gently.

  “Isn’t there?” The older woman searched her eyes. “You’re in love with Bowie.”

  That was the first time Gaby had heard the words. She’d intimated to Bowie that morning that she might be able to love him, but she’d never admitted that she already did. But of course she did, she thought, amazed. Or why would she have let him carry her to his room? Why would she have slept beside him all night without a protest?

  “Yes,” Gaby said huskily.

  Aggie kissed her cheek gently. “Maybe it will work out for you. If you care, try to make him see that land, even heritage, aren’t as important as people.”

  “I’ll try. What about you?”

  Aggie’s thin shoulders rose and fell. “I’ll go to Nassau
and stay with some friends. I don’t know, after that. I just want time to try and forget Ned.” Her voice broke and the tears came again. “God, Gaby, it hurts so much!”

  Gaby was beginning to realize that. She was in love with a man who might only be using her to get his hands on a piece of land that should have been his to begin with. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT WAS THE longest week of Gaby’s life, despite the fact that it seemed to begin on Wednesday. After she accepted a job with the Lassiter Citizen she got together all the factual information she’d been gathering on the Bio-Ag project, together with interviews from the environmental people and quotes from Mr. Barry, the Lopezes, and Mr. Samuels of Bio-Ag. When she finished the story, it was a well-done piece, she felt, carefully neutral, but presenting both sides of the explosive issue as well as she could. Even so, it still leaned toward Bio-Ag’s position, and she grimaced as she tried to imagine Bowie’s reaction when it was published. He wasn’t going to like it, but she hadn’t prejudiced the article to reinforce her own feelings. Her own feelings were rather vague right now. What she’d been told about the project only made her more curious. She felt that the organizers of the proposed agricultural project were deliberately withholding information about their intent, and that was disturbing.

  She had every respect for agriculture and farmers. Considering the tiny percentage of the population that worked so hard to feed everyone else, it wouldn’t have been politic to antagonize this project. On the other hand, the water table was dropping, and agriculture was the biggest user around. When water ran out for drinking and bathing, did agriculture have the right to put its needs above those of the populace? She groaned. The more she tried to think it out, the worse it got. Jobs, she told herself—Bio-Ag would bring in jobs. Then she thought about the future and the scarcity of water in the desert, and the slight possibility that the whole thing could be a dreadful fraud. She couldn’t leave it like this. She had to dig deeper—she had to be sure before she threw her vote to Bio-Ag, for the sake of the community and her conscience.

  Meanwhile, Aggie signed the necessary papers for the transfer of Casa Río to Bowie and Gaby which would take several weeks to effect, and then got quietly on a plane for Nassau. The older woman looked drawn and unhappy, and Gaby’s heart went out to her. Aggie had decided to leave while Bowie was still in Tucson, and that was going to hurt him, but then, Aggie had reason to be angry at both her son and Gaby. Their interference had led to her present state. She couldn’t understand that their only concern had been to protect her from a con man. Gaby didn’t really believe that Mr. Courtland was a con man, not anymore, but it was too late to worry about that. She had enough problems to concentrate on.

  She’d asked Aggie if she minded her living at Casa Río, and Aggie had just laughed. The house belonged to her and Bowie now, she had said gently. She was more than welcome to live in it, as long as Aggie had visiting rights now and again. That had brought forth a well of tears, and Gaby had cried like a child. Aggie seemed to be losing everything. It was almost unbearable to see her misery and feel that she had had even a small part in it.

  Bowie brooded when he realized his mother had left without a goodbye. All the years he’d felt left out because of Gaby had come back to haunt him. He could have had a closer relationship with his mother, perhaps, if he’d tried a little harder. It was pride that had held him at bay. Now it might be too late to work it out. He hoped not.

  He drove Gaby up to Phoenix to resign. While they drove she talked about carefully neutral subjects, and didn’t mention the article she had in her purse to give to Johnny Blake as a going-away present. She knew Bowie was going to explode. Part of her wanted to tell him about the hard work she’d put into the story, and how carefully she’d managed to tell both sides without prejudice, but she was reluctant to disrupt the peace between them.

  She was sad to leave the job she’d held for three years. Johnny let her go without a fuss, and with the proviso that she keep him posted about Bio-Ag’s progress. Gaby knew she was going to miss the hectic pace, but the Lassiter paper had a charm all its own. She knew she was going to like it there. And Bob Chalmers had been overjoyed at her acceptance even if Harvey Ritter hadn’t.

  Her one regret about the week was missing the city council meeting. Bob had sent Harvey to cover that, but since Bowie would have insisted on going with Gaby, perhaps it was for the best. She could always pump Harvey for information about the project.

  But as she prepared to start her new job on Monday, an unpleasant thought crept into her mind. Bowie might be regretting his proposal of marriage. He’d been quieter and more thoughtful than usual lately. She knew he was upset about Aggie, but he had hardly touched Gaby, except with lazy affection now and again. Although they spent time together over the weekend, and went to church on Sunday, there seemed to be more distance between them now than there ever had before. It wasn’t a cold or angry distance; it was more like a slow wall moving down, cutting them off from each other. Gaby mentioned it to Bowie, but only once. He clammed up and walked off, as he usually did when he didn’t want to discuss something, so Gaby went her own way, wondering if Bowie only wanted to make sure of Casa Río by proposing. Maybe Aggie had said something to upset him, but she couldn’t find out what it was.

  She was at work by eight-thirty that next Monday, dressed to the teeth in a denim skirt and lacy blouse and high heels. The office staff gave her a sideways appraisal with raised eyebrows and went back to work in their jeans and T-shirts.

  “Am I overdressed?” she asked Bob stealthily.

  “Not for Phoenix,” he replied, tongue-in-cheek. “And not if you’re planning to go out on an interview. But to work around town—yes, I think you’re a bit overboard.”

  “Okay.” She chuckled. “I’ll get it right next time. What do I do?”

  He outlined her job and gave her her own office, right next door to Harvey Ritter’s. She noticed that Harvey didn’t look up or offer any welcome. She understood that. He’d been the only reporter on the staff for several years, and he had to resent her presence.

  “These are all the local numbers.” Bob pointed to a sheet by the phone. “Police, fire department, civil defense, and so forth. When you get time—not today, because we’re going to be pushed for time trying to get enough copy to fill the paper before we go to press at noon tomorrow—it would be a good idea for you to go around to all the various city departments and introduce yourself. They’re nice folks. You’ll like them.”

  “I’ll do that,” she promised. “What would you like me to do meanwhile?”

  “Harvey’s doing a last-minute story on a new business that just located here, and then he’ll get the police news. You might check around for fires that happened over the weekend, and see if anybody knows anything about a drug bust,” he added under his breath. “Harvey won’t ask, but I hear it involved some bigwigs.”

  “I’ll need to go to the police department for that,” she said, “and look at the arrest record.”

  He gaped at her. “You’re not afraid to do that?”

  “Of course not.”

  He grinned. “Welcome to Lassiter.”

  She did the rounds, mostly running, because one tidbit of news led to another and it took most of the day to run down the true story about the drug bust. But she got it all by closing time and took it home with her to write.

  Bowie frowned when she asked for access to his computer.

  “You don’t need to bring work home, do you?” he asked.

  “I won’t usually,” she said, “but I’m new, and I’m a little slow at learning the routine of a weekly newspaper. They say the resident reporter shies away from controversy.”

  “But you don’t, do you?” he asked with narrowed eyes. “You don’t mind where you hit, or how hard.”

  She colored, because her
story for the Phoenix Advertiser, about the proposed agricultural enterprise, had just been released the day before. Obviously, Bowie had read it.

  “I gave both sides of the story,” she said.

  “Sure. Yours and theirs.”

  “Bowie...”

  “I don’t give a damn what you write, I’m not backing down,” he replied quietly. “You don’t have to understand my point of view to respect it.”

  “And I do,” she said, almost pleading. “You aren’t alone. There are at least two environmental groups supporting you, and several local people. It’s just that I have to tell it the way I see it.”

  “We can debate that until hell freezes over,” he returned. “You love your work, don’t you?”

  He made it sound like a disease. “Maybe I’m addicted to adrenaline,” she hedged. “I need to work on this.”

  “Be my guest. I’ll use the phone in the library.” He walked out without another word, leaving her to it. He went out shortly afterwards, without a word. By the time she went to bed, he still hadn’t returned.

  The story was a blockbuster, complete with names, dates, places, and perfect sources, all printable. She took the disk in to the paper in the morning and called it up on the computer so Bob could read it. He just shook his head. “Great,” he murmured. “Really great. Now, if we can just get it to work properly through the printer...”

  He carried the disk into the make-up room, slid it into its slot on the huge printer console, and pushed some buttons. The machine made clicking sounds. “It takes a little while,” he explained. “This is the newest thing I could afford. It’s been obsolete for years, of course.”

  Minutes later, he had offset copy in perfect column form, ready to cut into manageable strips and run through the waxer, then paste onto the pages. “We’ll run it four columns with a banner headline,” he murmured. “Too bad we don’t have pics. Maybe Harvey has something we can use to balance the page.”

  She went back to her terminal and began to type up the newest things that had come in—mostly society news and tidbits about local people that had been mailed or brought in. She set those up to help Judy, who was up to her eyebrows in legal advertisements, obituaries, and want ads. The display ads were made up in the composing room by Bob and Harvey, she learned.