Santa Fe Fortune (8 page)

Gwen kicked off the cowgirl boots, wishing she’d given Robert a swift kick in the pants as he was leaving. The fact that she hadn’t showed she actually possessed the better part of self-control when it was necessary. For one thing, she hadn’t wanted to give Robert the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d both outraged and hurt her. That was her little secret.

Gwen set the boots back on the shelf, her gaze grazing the gold wedding band. During their first year of marriage, she’d wondered so many times why Robert had taken the trouble to give it to her. His were hollow vows, eked out in the dim light of a small church on a moss-covered lane. Gwen’s heart had brimmed with joy that day, not having any inkling of what was coming. Less than six months down the road, he was ringing up old girlfriends and partying until dawn with the movie crew. It had taken Gwen a while to confess to her sister what was really going on, and Marian had been furious. Tom wasn’t perfect by any stretch, but at least he had his weakness to offer up as an excuse. Robert, on the other hand, was just plain mean, evil in a way no man had a right to be with his brand-new wife.

Gwen steadied her chin, thinking it was good to know that not all men were wicked. Some, in fact, were thoughtful and kind, and actually took time to listen. Gwen’s heart fluttered, recalling Dan’s gentle touch in the art museum. It wasn’t just the heat of his skin that had sent her pulse racing. There’d been a telling warmth in his eyes as well. And when he said he had faith in her, Gwen had absolutely believed it. Gwen was glad she’d have some downtime this evening. She needed the breather to sort through her thoughts. Despite what they both officially claimed, seeing Dan was feeling more and more like dating. While
chile
rellenos
in the plaza spelled casual, dinner with a view seemed cocktail level at least.

Gwen picked the boots up anew, considering how much fun it would be to wear them. Then again, money was tight, and she couldn’t afford to spend on luxuries when she’d come to raise funds for her and her sister’s real-time needs. “Maybe one day,” she told the boots, as if they could hear her.

Gwen left the boutique, wondering if that day would ever come. How amazing it would be not to spend every waking hour concerned about money. In that moment, Gwen realized she’d never really aspired to being rich. All she wanted to do was feel comfortable, as if she at minimum knew where her next meal was coming from. If she was able to paint and sell her art on top of that, she’d find herself in some sort of incredible nirvana she’d been afraid to imagine up until now.

Gwen’s imagination started to run away with her as she envisioned a handsome, blue-eyed rancher riding up on his horse. Dan could take her to paradise, all right. There and back again several times over, Gwen was sure. She blushed brilliantly at the thought of Dan pulling her close, as she was growing desperate for him to do. Gwen moistened her suddenly dry lips as the setting sun bore down on her. Could she trust him enough to give up everything? To become involved on a level so personal? A distant wind blew, rippling her flirty sundress in the breeze. Gwen hustled back to the inn, sheer fabric hugging her thighs. Her breasts and belly warmed at the thought of seeing him, and Gwen understood this was no longer a Caribbean swell she was fighting. It was a tidal wave.

****

Chapter Five

Dan made small talk with the two bronzed women from Austin. The sisters were here on holiday with a few other girlfriends and staying at one of the large establishments offering full spa services. They’d been quick to let Dan know their oil-industry husbands had provided them with shopping money and that they were interested in picking up art.

“Holbrook and Holstein’s expecting a new acquisition later this week, in fact,” he told them. “Promising new artist with a very keen eye. Gwendolyn Marsh. Maybe you’ve heard of her?”

Dan’s gaze flitted to the front window, surprised to think he’d just seen her walk by. He was letting his imagination get the better of him, believing any blonde bopping down the street might be Gwen.

The taller one clapped her hands together with glee. Silver bangles dangled from slim wrists. “Wonderful! What sort of work does she do?”

“Seascapes and bits of ocean wildlife. She gives them a very interesting and unique treatment in oils.”

“I adore anything oil,” she said, rolling her eyes at her sister, who was busy retouching her lipstick. She smacked thin lips together, then checked her image in a compact purse mirror.

“Um-hmm,” she agreed. “Absolutely. Maybe you’ll pick up something for Shangri-La?”

“Vacation home on the Gulf Coast,” the first one said to Dan by way of explanation.

“I think these might be well suited to a place like that. I hope you’ll drop back by?”

“Of course we will,” the shorter one said, suddenly taking charge. Her sister raised both eyebrows. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to pass up the opportunity. You heard what he said; it might be perfect for you. Besides, you don’t know how many others he’s advised to stop in.”

Both shot Dan inquiring, green-eyed glances. “I have to admit I’ve been spreading the word,” he said pleasantly.

“That settles it, then,” the shorter one said.

“Emily’s right, I am intrigued. When will the new work be available to view?”

“The day after tomorrow. We open at ten.”

“Delightful!” the taller woman said. “My name’s Victoria, by the way,” she said, offering Dan her hand. “Victoria Kent.”

“Dan Holbrook,” he said, with a short, businesslike handshake.

“Holbrook as in Holbrook and Holstein?” Emily inquired.

“One and the same,” Dan said with a pleasant smile. “Although the real brains behind the operation belongs to my sister, Nancy.”

“I can see where the muscle comes in,” Emily added with an admiring gaze.

Dan thought he saw Gwen pass by again.

 
“Excuse me just one second,” he said, striding to the door and peering outside. A figure in a flouncy skirt and highly stylized boots slipped around the corner.

“Everything all right?” Victoria called from the gallery’s center.

“Just thought I recognized someone,” Dan said, wondering if he was losing his mind. “I hope to see you both back here on Friday.”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, would we, Victoria?” Emily said in a tone that was a tad too flirty.

“Not for the world,” Victoria agreed with a bright smile.

Gwen scurried around the corner, then stopped to catch her breath. Was she out of her mind? She must have strolled past Holbrook and Holstein’s array of windows a half dozen times, just hoping to catch sight of him. And then, when she had, he’d been caught up in conversation with two gorgeous women!

“Excuse me, honey,” the first one said, nearly running over her.

Gwen scooted out of the way as the pair closed in. The shorter one pointed to Gwen’s feet, then shot Gwen an appreciative look. “Radical boots!” she said, strolling by. She linked arms with the other one, and the two of them strode off, sharing private jokes and laughter, their pencil-thin legs gleaming in the sunlight.

 
Gwen felt her face burn hot and ducked into a nearby gallery to cool off. So okay, she’d had a weak moment. Not long after she’d opted not to buy these boots, she’d decided she had to. How often did she treat herself anyway? The answer was never. Gwen had spent her whole life on a financial tightrope of one sort or another. Growing up, she’d felt guilty about the sacrifices her single mother constantly made; then in marriage, she’d been burdened with Robert’s unending scrutiny. After the divorce, she’d scarcely had two coins to rub together and had a debt crisis to recover from besides. She wasn’t about to indulge in extravagances. But the truth was Gwen was tired, flat-out exhausted from the merciless monetary restraint. She wanted one thing, just one little thing, that she could buy and claim as hers without feeling as if she’d have to head straight to church afterwards.

 
Feeling emboldened by the wine-and-cheese hour, she’d pranced right back to the Wild West Boutique and extracted her charge card. It had been a glorious moment, preceded by heady anticipation. Gwen was about to do something wonderful for herself and not get caught! Or so she hoped. Just to ensure her moral turpitude wouldn’t count against her, Gwen had dropped by
Loretto
Chapel on the way back to the inn. Comforted by Catholic memorabilia, fresh flowers, and dripping rosaries, she’d immediately felt her sin absolved. There she was in the presence of the miraculous staircase, for heaven’s sake! How could the Mighty Savior give a fiddle about fancy boots when there were such acts of grandeur to contemplate?

Gwen ducked behind an indoor sculpture as a man matching Dan’s description passed by on the street. She’d presumably come to check out her future competitors on Canyon Road and spend a leisurely day browsing the art. Instead, she’d engaged in clandestine observations of her generous benefactor. The fact that Dan was also handsome, funny, and kind only lent power to his voracious, voodoo-like hold on her. Gwen had to get a grip!

“Can I help you with something?” a well-dressed woman inquired, staring down at her crouched form near the floor.

“Just dropped an earring!” Gwen lied, straightening quickly.

“There, you see,” she said, holding up nothing in her hand but keeping her grip closed so the woman couldn’t tell. “Found it!”

Then, before the woman could ask her anything more, like was she in need of directions to the loony bin, Gwen shuffled out the door.

Dan’s cell buzzed anew, sparking his irritation. Sooner or later, he’d have to deal with this, but it wouldn’t be tonight. Tonight, he planned to be all Gwen’s. It was odd how he’d believed he’d seen her walking by. He supposed, as an artist, it would be natural for her to peruse the other galleries on Canyon Road. Yet, if that had been her, why hadn’t she dropped in to say hello? And why couldn’t he knock that nagging feeling that he hadn’t simply glimpsed her once, he’d seen her skirt by at least half a dozen times?

Dan shook his head, feeling like a naive young kid, daydreaming of his crush at every turn. Perspiration built at Dan’s brow and warmed the nape of his neck. He adjusted his open collar, which suddenly felt too tight. Things were creeping up on him. Gwen was starting to mean more to him than he’d originally planned. He surveyed the blinking red light on his BlackBerry, then slid open a desk drawer and tucked the offending object inside. Whatever the emergency was this time, it would have to wait.

****

Chapter Six

Gwen sat across the table from Dan, who looked more delectable than anything on the menu. He was dressed in a casual white shirt and jeans, their cut fitting nicely on his tall, toned frame. “What looks good to you?” he asked.

“Everything,” she said, making an attempt to study the choices. “What do you recommend?”

“The Californian is good.”

“All veggies?” Gwen asked with surprise.

 
“What? I’m allowed to eat healthy.”

And boy, didn’t he have the body to show for it. “That’s fine. I love portabella mushrooms and sundried tomatoes.”

“That was easy,” he said, setting their menus aside. “Would you like me to order the wine?”

“I’d love for you to order the wine. I’m still learning my way around it. Good wine, I mean. I know all about Two Buck Charlie!”

Dan spouted a laugh. “Oh yes, I’ve heard about that one. Rare vintage, is it?”

“It’s not bad, honestly. But it’s not nearly as good as the wines you pick out.”

“Well, thank you.” He folded his arms across his broad chest and leaned back in his chair, satisfied. “I aim to please.”

In a flash, wild images of all the ways in which Dan might please Gwen raced through her mind. She lifted the small Specialty Drinks menu card to fan her blazing face.

“Think we might ask for some water?” she squeaked.

Dan leaned forward with concern. “You feeling all right?”

“Just had a long day walking around town. Probably dehydrated.”

“You weren’t up on Canyon Road by any chance?”

“Canyon Road?” she repeated like an idiotic parrot.

“You know, up my way. Where all the galleries are?”

Gwen crossed one calf over the other, the leather of her boots squealing.

Dan peeked under the table. “Well, I’ll be! I could have sworn I…”

“Canyon Road! Why yes, yes, actually, I was. I was up there, over that way, earlier this afternoon, I believe?”

Dan slowly cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you’re neglecting to say something?” Gwen swallowed hard. This was it. She’d been caught red-handed, stalking a man who wasn’t even her boyfriend! “Like where you got those dynamite boots?” he continued.