Cowboy Enchantment - By Pamela Browning Page 0,30
it.”
She wondered what he would have thought if he could read her mind, what his reaction would be if he knew she had set her sights on him from the time she’d first set eyes on him. She shot him a cautious look out of the corners of her eye, finding it odd that her vision was no longer partially obscured by the frames of her glasses.
“I thought we’d edge along the outside of the ranch property,” he said as they passed between the rock pillars marking the entrance to Rancho Encantado. Above the pillars stretched a sign: RANCHO ENCANTADO, WHERE DREAMS COME TRUE.
Do they? Erica wondered, then was distracted as they crossed a dirt road that led to an equipment barn, as well as employee quarters, holding pens and loading chutes necessary for a large working ranch. “That’s the original hacienda over there,” Hank said, angling his head in the direction of an old adobe structure in the distance. “We’ll stop by there on the way back so I can check on some things.”
“Great. Where will we go now?”
“We’ll be taking the path down to the wash, a little stream called Padre’s Creek. The priest lived near there when this was church land.”
Erica wished that Melba would hurry up a bit, instead of ambling along with so little spirit. It would be more fun to trot along with the wind blowing in her newly coiffed hair. Melba, however, was placid and calm, determined to give her an easy ride.
Hank continued to direct Erica with pointers about her riding, noting that she seemed to know instinctively how to handle the horse. Not, he admitted to himself, that Melba was that much of a horse. She was elderly and not inclined to be skittish even when ridden by the most nervous of new riders.
They passed a hill and the abandoned borax mine, the remnants of its buildings overgrown with mesquite. After they had traversed the hill, a wide trail led them through a grove of cottonwoods, the land sloping gently down to a creek. In the branches overhead, a bird chattered, sounding very loud in the silence.
“It’s been so long since I’ve paid any attention to nature,” Erica said in answer to Hank’s quizzical look. “In New York I never even go to the park.”
“I see that you brought your camera.”
“Yes, it’s a digital and I’m still learning how to use it. I used to be a pretty good nature photographer with my old camera, but this one’s so new I’m still in the experimental stages.”
“Maybe I can help you get some good shots” was all he said. Later he took care to point out a hawk to her as it circled lazily overhead. She snapped its picture, checked it in the preview lens and liked what she saw.
They heard the purling of the stream before they saw it. As they came around the two large boulders that hid it from view, Erica almost gasped. The little creek was beautiful and unspoiled, curving down from the golden hills and disappearing into a gorge in the distance. This stretch was shallow, with little pools in the rocks that lined the bank.
Hank dismounted and so did she. Erica immediately regretted her haste, considering how much more pleasant it would have been to feel his arms circling her as she had yesterday.
“I was going to help you down,” he said, a frown marring his features.
“No need,” she said, giving a little laugh that sounded so false she was sure it wouldn’t fool him. Before he could comment, she tossed Melba’s reins into his outstretched hands and brushed past him, heading for the water. Her precipitous flight was one way to hide her confusion, to find privacy in which she could curse her own stupidity and regain her equilibrium.
The path skirted the ruins of a building, its crumbled stone foundation overgrown with straggly weeds. Beside the path was a bronze plaque, and she stopped to read it.
ON THIS SITE LIVED PADRE LUIS REYES DE SANTIAGO, WHO BUILT A SCHOOL AND A HOSPITAL IN THIS VALLEY IN 1876. FRIEND TO ALL, BENEFACTOR OF MANY, SERVANT OF GOD.
“That’s all that’s left of his house,” Hank said as he came up behind her. “The timber from it was salvaged long ago.”
“How about the school and the hospital?”
“Gone. The hospital stood where the guest quarters are, probably very close to Desert Rose. The school was near the Big House.”
Erica ran a finger across the raised bronze letters of the