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Celeste looked as relieved as if he’d told her his cancer was in remission. “I think that’s for the best.”
He shook his head in disgust. “I don’t care what you think. It’s none of your damned business.” He’d raised his voice again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the owner shoot them a glance.
“See, now you’re getting angry again.”
“Celeste.” He wanted to wring the woman’s neck. “Leave. Me. Alone. Stay out of my business. Stay out of my life.” He turned and stormed out of the store, but he could feel her gaze boring into his back—along with that of the owner of the store.
Just saying Maggie’s name made his heart hurt. He hadn’t seen her for months—as badly as he’d wanted to. He couldn’t explain it to himself. It wasn’t because he still felt anything for Celeste other than a growing hatred and fear. Fear of what Celeste might do if he were to start seeing Maggie again.
The thought made him wonder if he was as crazy as his ex-wife. What did he think Celeste would do?
But look what she’d done in the past. Interrupted his last two dates with Maggie and come between them. He feared there was something terribly wrong with his ex-wife and he didn’t want her near Maggie.
Or was that exactly what Celeste wanted him to believe so she could control him and keep him away from the one woman he might find happiness with?
* * *
THE WORKDAY PASSED quickly since it was summer and the saloon was busy the whole time. Darby did his best to watch Mariah and still hold down the bar. What he did see was efficiency. She was even better at this than Kendall, which was saying a lot. He couldn’t help being impressed.
“Do you have a tip jar behind the bar?” she asked as she handed over the money with her first order. Clearly she knew he didn’t trust her and wanted to make sure every transaction was taken care of right away. She wasn’t going to give him any reason to mistrust her.
When it got so busy even he was having trouble keeping up, Mariah came behind the bar and got her own beer and even helped make a couple of the more time-consuming drinks.
When he did have a moment to think, he thought about what she’d said about stealing from a Romani.
“You’re really good at this,” he said as the last patron left and he was able to bolt the door closed for the night and turn out all but the lights behind the bar.
“Thanks.” She sighed as if tired. He knew he was. But she didn’t look tired. She looked...beautiful. A lock of her dark hair had fallen down to curve around her high cheekbone. It made her eyes look even darker. For a moment, their gazes met. He felt his breath escape him. That feeling he’d had at the Chokecherry Festival of being shot through the heart was mild compared to this one. He was right. The woman had put a curse on him, he thought as he dragged his gaze away.
“Give me a minute and I can settle up with you on the tips.”
“Don’t worry about that tonight.” Her voice was low, sultry in the empty bar, darkness deep against the windows. “But I would love a glass of wine. Red. Something cheap and sweet would be wonderful.”
He laughed as he looked at her again. “I took you for something more exotic. Champagne, maybe.”
“Really?” She moved with fluid grace to the bar, slid up on a stool and, dropping her elbows to the bar top, cupped her chin in her hands as she settled her gaze on him. “Was it my backpack with my entire life in it? Or my bike?”
“I haven’t seen a bike like yours before.”
“You know motorcycles?”
“I know horses, but I can appreciate a vintage bike like that,” he said as he poured her a glass of wine and himself a diet cola.
“It was my father’s. It has a 750 cc V-twin engine so it moves. Gets good gas mileage. I can go over three hundred miles on a tank of gas.” She shrugged. “It gets me where I want to go.”
“And where is that?” he asked, seeing her obvious love of the bike that had belonged to her father.
She smiled, lighting up the darkened saloon. “Wherever the road takes me.”
“I’m envious.” He could see it surprised her.
“But you have everything here.”
Darby had to chuckle at that, remembering what Billie Dee had told him was wrong with him. “Not everything.”
Mariah’s eyes narrowed. “You really think you could get on a bike and just go and leave all of this behind?”
“Some days I definitely do. But then I remind myself that most places are pretty much the same. I don’t think what I’m looking for is over that next hill.”
She cocked her head, studying him. “What is it you’re looking for?”
He shook his head and glanced away. “That’s just it, I don’t know. Excitement. Adventure. A challenge. Hitting the road like that sounds almost...”
“Romantic?” She scoffed. “It’s not.”
“What are you looking for?”
Mariah frowned. “I’m not. I’m just...going.”
They drank in companionable silence for a while. It was a quiet dark night outside the saloon. Even the earlier traffic on the road had stopped. Darby felt as if they were the only two people left on Earth.
He kept thinking about what it would be like to get on that motorcycle parked outside and just go. “Is there any place you haven’t been?”
“A few.” She shrugged as he refilled her glass and his own. She stared at the wine for a long moment and then, lifting the glass carefully, took a sip.
“You’re right though,” she said quietly. “Most every place is like another.” When she raised her gaze, he saw sadness there.
“Earlier did you say you were a Romani?” he said, changing the subject. He hadn’t wanted to make her sad. He loved her smile too much.
She nodded. “My grandmother was Romani and determined to keep the culture and traditions of her people. She came to this country as a young girl in the 1930s, hoping to find a better life.” Mariah met his gaze. “She thought it was just a matter of luck. Unfortunately, she also believed there was a curse on our family.”
“Even if you wear the evil eye necklace?” he asked, half joking.
Mariah smiled. “You don’t believe in curses?”
“No, but lately...” He shook his head, sorry he’d brought it up as she finished her wine and slid off the barstool. He thought she might bring up the bracelet.
“I should get going. What do I owe you for the drinks?” She looked at him in a way that made his heart beat faster.
“It’s on the house.”
“Sleep well, then.”
Her words brought a chill of both excitement and anxiety. Was she trying to warn him that tonight would be the night? “You too.”
She started out but stopped in the kitchen doorway to turn as a vehicle roared past. Darby looked up from behind the bar to find Mariah silhouetted against the kitchen light. He stared at her profile with both shock and admiration.
The image of the Roma Queen on the bracelet. Mariah looked exactly like her before she stepped outside into the darkness.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u28eb3891-9601-5919-b88d-41a19934752e)
MARIAH PACED THE small cabin. She should have finished this days ago and moved on. Staying in one place was dangerous—even in such a small town so out of the way in a remote part of Montana.
Her first week at the Stagecoach Saloon had gone by in a blur. Each day, she told herself that she needed to get her bracelet and move on. Each day, she found another excuse not to do what had to be done.
These nights working with Darby... She shook her head. The work kept her busy. It was afterward, after they closed the bar, when they visited over something to drink. When they talked. When she looked into the cowboy’s gray eyes...
Shaking her head now, she told herself that she didn’t like the way being here made her feel. She didn’t like the way Darby made her feel. Had she forgotten how dangerous all this was—and not just for her?
Mariah stopped in front of the cabin window that looked out on the rolling hills and the town of Gilt Edge in the distance. What am I still doing here?
What if Darby had gotten rid of the bracelet? Just tossed it out like a piece of junk? Or had it appraised and sold it? That was another possibility.
Why don’t you just ask him for it?
She knew that was what he was waiting for. Was that why she hadn’t done that the first day she’d walked into the Stagecoach Saloon? What was the worst he would have done? Accuse her of taking his wallet? She’d seen him pick it up after she’d dropped it. He couldn’t prove she’d tried to take it.
But after she’d heard that his brother was the sheriff... She didn’t want any trouble. And she could hide out here a while just as easily as anywhere else. If Darby Cahill was going to call the sheriff on her, he would have that first day when she’d asked for a job. He could have laughed in her face. He could have sent her packing.
So why hadn’t he?
Was it possible he hadn’t remembered her?
No, she thought, thinking back to their conversations. He was curious about her. Curious about her evil eye pendant. Curious no doubt what she was waiting for. And him? He was waiting too. Waiting to see what she was going to do.
It was time to end the suspense. She needed to get the bracelet back and move on.
Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She quickly checked it since only one person had the number. She’d lied to Darby about not having a phone, always leaving it behind when she went to work.
Taking a shaky breath, she answered the call, knowing it would be bad news. “Yes?”
“He was here looking for you.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“No, of course not. Auntie handled it. She wouldn’t let him inside. He wanted you and then he asked for me. Auntie told him neither of us had been around.”
“You know he’ll be back. It isn’t safe—”
“I had Auntie whisked away in the dead of night. I got word that she is safe.”
“What about you?” Mariah hated the fear she heard in her voice.
“I left, as well, when it was safe. No one saw me leave, so don’t worry. Anyway, I can take care of myself.”
Not against this man. “You know what he’s capable of.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Maybe you should pick up another phone.”
“I won’t call unless...well, you know.”
She did know. Tears filled her eyes. Her hand went to her wrist to stroke her grandmother’s bracelet, only to remember it was gone. The loss hadn’t hurt as badly as it did at that moment. “Please be careful. I know you don’t believe in the evil eye—”
“I’m wearing my pendant,” her best friend, Serra, said. “Why not? We both need all the luck we can get and our grandmothers lived to ripe old ages—maybe we will too.”
Mariah disconnected and tucked the phone behind the pillow on her bed. She had to end this and get moving again. He wouldn’t quit looking for her.
But she wasn’t leaving without her bracelet. Her friend was right. She needed all the luck she could get.
Tonight, though, she needed to clear her head and there was only one way. She grabbed the key to her bike. When she got like this, the best thing she could do was hit the road, let the motorcycle run and push away all the crazy thoughts.
Slipping on her jacket, she stepped outside. The moon peeked over the mountains, a brilliant glowing sphere that gilded the landscape. The air felt chilly and wonderfully scented with pine.
Swinging up onto her bike, she started the engine, loving the sound of its throaty roar, and turned toward the highway out of town. Once she hit the wide pavement, she opened it up and let it run. There was no traffic on the highway this time of night. It was just her and the road. The speed blew back her long hair in a dark wave. She breathed in the night. She was Mariah Ayers, granddaughter of a Roma queen. Nothing could stop her. Not even Darby Cahill.
The thought of the handsome cowboy with those dark-fringed gray eyes and easy smile made her even more restless. He was a temptation, one she couldn’t afford. If she stayed here much longer—
She took the next curve too fast. The bike leaned dangerously, but she managed to pull it back out as the road straightened again. Her heart was pounding. Darby and this place, this feeling, were dangerous. They made her reckless.
Mariah slowed the bike to turn around and head back, feeling as if now she could get some sleep. It was time to move up her plan, time to put Gilt Edge and Darby Cahill behind her. Tomorrow night.
* * *
“SOMETHIN’S UP,” BILLIE DEE whispered and pointed toward the bar.
“Something like what?” Lillie whispered back. The two of them had been in the kitchen talking while Billie Dee made cornbread to go with her pot of Texas ham and beans cooking on the stove.
“Your brother and Mariah.”
Lillie’s attention perked right up. “Like what?”
“I can’t put my finger on it, but they act very strange around each other. Kinda too polite and yet I see each of them watchin’ the other.”
“She’s new. Darby probably just wants to make sure she does a good job. And she’s probably self-conscious knowing he’s watching her.”
Billie Dee laughed. “That woman is anything but self-conscious. She knows exactly what she’s doing—driving your brother crazy.”
“What?”
“He has it bad. Haven’t you seen how off-center he is around her? He’s not his usual cool self.”
Lillie thought about it for a moment. “You’re right. He hasn’t been himself since the Chokecherry Festival. Do you think they met there and don’t want us to know?”
“Why would they do that?” the cook asked frowning.
“Maybe because my brother doesn’t like anyone to know his business. Do you realize he hasn’t even invited me up to see my apartment?”
“You mean his apartment?”
“Whatever. But I think you’re right,” she said, watching Darby behind the bar as Mariah came up to place a drink order for one of her tables. “He’s definitely interested in her. So why hasn’t he asked her out?”
