"And she's in mine, too." He caught the rhythmic beat of cantering hooves and turned to see Angie riding into the ranch yard. He waved, motioning for her to come directly to the camper. She swung the horse toward them and said something to the girl riding behind her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her glance running to Luke in concern when he stepped up to lift Dulcie down.

Without elaboration, Luke related the story Fargo had told him. Angie listened in confusion.

"It couldn't have been Saddlebags." She swung out of the saddle. "Nobody can be in two places at once, and we just saw him at the canyon."

"Are you sure it was him?" Fargo challenged.

"I'm positive. We talked to him," Angie stated, then told them about the encounter.

"He scared me," Dulcie inserted in a small voice when Angie finished.

"He didn't mean us any harm," Angie said, as much to assure Luke and Fargo as Dulcie.

Fargo harrumphed in disbelief. "Not this time, maybe, but it sure sounds like he's got plans for you in the future." He turned and spat a stream of yellow tobacco juice off to the side.

"I know that's the way it sounded," Angie admitted, but other than an initial feeling of alarm when this dirty and scrawny old man had popped up out of nowhere, she hadn't been the least bit frightened of Saddlebags. Perhaps she should have been but she was oddly glad that she hadn't. "As soon as he issued his warning, he turned and scrambled back among the boulders and disappeared."

"Warning," Fargo scoffed at the word. "Is that what you call it? Sounded more like a threat to me."

"You don't plan on taking Saddlebags's advice, do you?" Accusation rifled through the coolness of Luke's voice.

"And leave, you mean? How can I?" Angie dodged the question. "I can't finalize the arrangements for my grandfather's burial until all the paperwork is finished, and the sheriff told me this morning that it wouldn't be ready for a couple more days."

"Did you mention that to Saddlebags?" Amusement etched dry lines around Luke's mouth.

"He didn't give me a chance." The gray horse nosed her shoulder. Absently Angie reached back and stroked the gelding's velvet-soft muzzle while turning a puzzled glance on Fargo. "If it wasn't Saddlebags you saw prowling around my camper, who could it have been?"

Momentarily caught at a loss for an answer, Fargo scratched his head and fumbled around for a reply. "Maybe nobody was prowlin' around your camper. Maybe I was just seein' things. I don't know. It's for sure nothin' looks disturbed inside." He waved a hand toward the camper. "Course you need to check that yourself."

"Of course," she agreed but made no move toward the door.

"Well"-Fargo dragged in a long breath and bounced a glance off Luke's face-"don't look like there's no point in hangin' around here any longer. I'd best get back to the house and check on supper."

"Good idea. Take these." Luke tossed him the empty water jugs. "I'll be up directly."

"Luke, can Angie eat supper with us?" Dulcie lifted her face to him, eager and hopeful, as Fargo ambled toward the trailer house.

"I was just about to invite her."

That was all Dulcie needed to hear. She turned beseeching eyes on Angie. "You will come, won't you?"

The girl's earnest plea would have been impossible to refuse even if Angie had been so inclined. "I'd love to."

For Luke, the sight of her smile both soothed and stirred. Seeking to break the effect of it, he took the reins from Angie's hand and held them out to Dulcie. "Here. Take Jackpot to the barn and tell your brother to take care of him."

A shocked Dulcie stared first at the reins, then at the mammoth-looking horse, then at Luke. "Me?"

Her expression brought home the fact that she'd had little actual contact with the ranch stock despite the years she'd spent around them, something that would never have happened with a more assertive child. But Dulcie was too reticent to make demands, or even complain.

"Why not? There's nothing to it," he assured her, his manner deliberately offhand. "Just start walking to the barn and Jackpot will follow."

Encouraged by his answer, she took the reins from him and backed up until the reins were pulled taut and the horse's nose was stretched toward her. She stopped and sent a half-fearful glance at Luke. He clicked his tongue to the gelding and the gray stepped forward. The instant the reins went slack, a look of panic flashed in her eyes. She hurriedly backed up another step, but the horse kept coming toward her.

"That's good." Luke nodded in approval. "Now, just turn around and head for the barn. He'll follow."

Although clearly not certain she liked the idea of turning her back to the big horse, she did as Luke suggested, then snuck a worried glance over her shoulder. Her eyes rounded in amazement when she saw the gelding plodding quietly behind her. She threw a quick smile at Luke, her whole face lighting up with delight at her accomplishment.

After watching her, Luke became aware of Angie's gaze on him. His glance flicked briefly to her. "It seems Dulcie's education has been a bit neglected."

"Fargo mentioned that none of your horses were kid broke."

"Jackpot comes the closest." Something told him Tobe wouldn't be overjoyed at the idea of using some of his hard-earned savings to buy a horse for his sister. "With careful supervision, he might work. But we're getting off the subject."

"What subject is that?"

"You and all the trouble you've stirred up with your talk about buried treasure." Moving her out to the ranch hadn't turned out to be the solution he thought it would. Her encounter with Saddlebags was proof of that. No matter how many times he told himself that her welfare wasn't his responsibility, he hadn't been able to convince his conscience. Each incident seemed to push him deeper and deeper into a corner, and Luke didn't like it.

"You've decided to help me, haven't you?" she guessed, her dark eyes glowing in anticipation of his affirmative answer.

He deliberately avoided giving one. "The way I look at it, I have three choices. One, I can help you search for the gold. Two, I can let you wander all over the Ten Bar looking for it by yourself. Or three, I can order you off my property and put an end to this, once and for all. Believe me, the third option is very tempting."

"But you're going to help just the same."

Her smiling certainty irked him. "We'll discuss that after supper tonight. I'm not committing to more than that." It was his turn to smile. "With any luck, I'll blow so many holes in your so-called information about where it's buried that you'll give up the idea of looking for it."

The light in her eyes began to sparkle and dance. "But you do agree to look at everything I've got-the maps, the letter, and the instructions encoded in it-and base your decision on their merits."

"Or their lack thereof. Yes."

"You have a deal." She thrust out her hand to seal the bargain.

Luke hesitated. "Why do I have the uncomfortable feeling that I've just been trapped in a corner?"

She laughed, quick and light. "Maybe because you have."

The sound was infectious, drawing a smile from him. He took her hand and murmured, "We'll see."

"You will, indeed," Angie countered.

Before he found himself liking the feel of her hand too much, he released it. "In the meantime, you'd better go through your camper and make sure no one other than Fargo was in it." He paused a beat. "Looking for this gold may be nothing more than a lark to you, but someone out there is very serious about finding it first."

Her smile faded with the soberness of his statement. "You're thinking about Saddlebags, aren't you?"

"Everything points to him being the most likely candidate, except your camper being broken into Sunday afternoon. I'm not convinced he could have made it to town in time."

Angie thought about that a moment, then shrugged it all off. "Dwelling on who may or may not have done it won't accomplish a single thing." Her smile was back, but this time the brightness of it was forced. "What time is supper?"

"We still have chores to do. About an hour to an hour and a half."

"Good. That gives me time to clean up and change. Thanks to Jackpot, I smell like a horse." Angie sniffed at her top and wrinkled her nose. "So do my clothes." She opened the camper's screen door, then paused. "Would you mind if I used your shower? The camper's fresh water tank-"

Luke waved off her explanation. "You're more than welcome to use the shower at the trailer."

"Thanks."

"No problem. I'll let Fargo know you'll be up to use it." Stepping away, he struck out for the trailer.

Amid nips and squeals, flattened ears, and flying hooves, the horses argued over the grain in the feed trough. Ignoring the equine squabbling, Luke pulled the last saddle and damp blanket off the corral fence and carried them into the timbered barn.

A side door stood open, letting in the flaming light of a slowly setting sun. Tobe slapped the milk cow's bony hip, hurrying her outside, then closed the door and chased the barn cats away from the pail of fresh milk.

"Is that the last of 'em?" He nodded to the saddle Luke carried.

"All done."

"In that case I'm heading to the house."

"I'll be right behind you." Toting the saddle on his shoulder, Luke ducked into the tack room, swung the saddle onto its wooden tree, and draped the blanket over it to finish drying.

Before leaving the barn, he stopped and dragged its massive double doors shut, then headed for the trailer. He made a detour by the camper, but Angie wasn't there.

There was no sign of her inside the trailer either, only Tobe at the sink straining the evening's milk and Fargo at the stove stirring something simmering in a pot.

"Where's Angie?"

"Dulcie decided Angie needed to see her bedroom. Like the woman had never seen one before." Fargo placed the lid back on the pan and turned off the burner under it. "Everything's done. Just got to dish it up."

"Hold supper off a couple minutes," Luke told him. "I'm gonna take a shower first."

"Me, too," Tobe chimed in as he emptied the last of the milk from the pail.

Fargo shook his head in disgust. "Happens every time you put a woman in a house. Nobody's ready to eat when the food is," he grumbled.

But Luke was halfway down the long hall to the master bedroom, located at the opposite end of the trailer from Dulcie's. By the time he walked into the room, he had his shirt unbuttoned and tugged loose from his jeans. Crossing the room, he went straight to the adjoining bath and came to a dead stop the instant he set foot inside the door.

It had been years since he'd shared a bathroom with a woman. He had forgotten the traces of the presence a woman could leave behind. Traces more subtle than the beading moisture of leftover steam on the mirror or the damp towel hanging on the rack. It was the mingling scents in the air, scents of cream-laden soap; strawberry shampoo; and another fragrance more elusive, more evocatively feminine.

Luke had no idea how long he stood there, with the suggestion of her presence encircling him, before he finally reached in the stall and turned on the spray.

Chapter Seventeen.

Angie and Luke were halfway down the trailer steps when Dulcie poked her head out the door. "Angie, I forgot to thank you for fixing my hair," she called and touched a wondering hand to her flaxen hair-which Angie had French braided into a single long plait.

Pausing on the steps, Angie responded with an immediate smile. "You're very welcome."

"I love it," Dulcie declared with a fervency in her voice. "It makes me feel special."

"I'm glad, because you are special."

"So are you," Dulcie ventured shyly.

Before Angie could reply, Tobe yelled from inside the trailer, "Hey, Dulcie, where are you goin'? You're supposed to help load the dishwasher."

After a playfully guilty grimace, Dulcie wagged a hand in good-bye, then ducked back inside the trailer. With a lingering smile, Angie continued down the steps.

"You've made quite an impression on her," Luke observed, matching her stride to stroll toward the camper.

"It's mutual."

There was no mistaking the warm note of affection in her voice.

It was not an idle response perfunctorily given. It was part of the basic honesty about her, a trait that Luke hadn't encountered all that often. It drew his glance to her.

Like Dulcie, Angie wore her hair in a French braid. At the dinner table, when it had still been damp from the shower, it had been smooth and sleek. Now, as it dried, wisps had sprung free to curl about her face and neck, softening the style and giving it a touchable look. The discovery didn't exactly please him.

Since his wife's death, he had been physically attracted to other women, but Angie Sommers attracted him on a different level, a stronger level, the kind that involved emotions. It raised his guard.

"I guess, one way or another, you've made an impression on everyone you've met," he remarked grimly.

"Something tells me that wasn't intended as a compliment." Her sidelong glance was full of teasing humor.

"You're right; it wasn't." His mouth twisted in a dry smile. "In case you've forgotten, your being here has provoked someone into violence."

With a brief shake of her head, Angie disputed that. "It wasn't me, per se, but my knowledge of the gold's location that provoked it."

"True," he conceded the point. "But like the Bible says, 'money-or gold-is the root of all evil.' "

"Actually it says 'love of money is the root of all evil.' In and of itself, there is nothing evil about money."

"In this day and age, I can't think of many people who wouldn't love to get their hands on a big chunk of it." His glance cut to her, wry with accusation. "Including you, or you wouldn't be so determined to find that outlaw gold."

"I know it probably looks that way, but it really isn't," Angie replied. "For as long as I can remember, I've had this desire to look for the gold. It's splitting hairs, I know, but I'm honestly more interested in finding it than possessing it."

"Next you'll be trying to convince me that you plan on giving it away to some charity-assuming, of course, that you find it."

"Let's just say that I have plans for it." Her lips curved in a smugly secretive smile. It intensified the disappointment he felt at her answer. He had expected something better from her. "But first, we have to find it," she added.

"We?" Luke challenged the choice of pronouns. "I don't believe that's been decided yet."

"Not yet," she admitted, but her voice had a confident lilt to it.