New excerpt - The Queen of Paradise Valley

Excerpt from chapter 39, The Queen of Paradise Valley: 

The fence was cut in five places along a stretch of meadow bordering Lord's property. Del and Clem rode along the line, but found no more gaps. Stoney and Jim recovered the few cows that had strayed and made repairs by lantern light.

"What d'you think?" Clem asked as they rode back. "I don't like this kinda trouble. The cows are restless enough with water holes drying up every day."

"Look around in the morning. Maybe you’ll find some clues." Though disturbed, Del wasn't going to let new worries interfere with his plans to have a long-overdue talk with Diana.

Clem sniffed the air. "Stinks kinda like–“ He stopped. “Will you lookit that?" Awe in his voice, he pointed to the house.

Del jerked on the reins. Brilliant light issued from the lower floor windows. The light of a thousand candles. Unbelievable. Impossible.

Ebony bounded forth, yapping. Diablo flattened his ears and, grunting, tossed his head, while Clem's horse pranced and whinnied. Clem said, "What the--" The front windows bulged as if the room behind was being inflated, and simultaneously exploded. Slivers of glass showered to the earth like burning raindrops. Smoke billowed from the yawning openings and formed pillars that ascended high above the roof.

"Hell!" Del set the mustang into a hard gallop and chased after Ebony. When Diablo snorted and skidded to a stop, Del jumped off and ran, gripped by an unnamed fear.

Pandemonium reigned in the yard. Men shouted as they ran about with shovels, beating out sparks as they fell. Where was Diana? Del swung about. Where in hell was she?

He shouldered through the men and found the servants: Alfredo in his shirtsleeves, struggled to hold the frantic dog; Teresa, hands to her heart, wailed, "Dio mio--;" Nita, tears glistening on her cheeks, tried to calm her mother; Marion, wild-eyed, hugged her thin shoulders.

Del shouted, "Diana--where--?"

Each of them turned about, eyes wide, as if Diana should be there with them. They stared at him, aghast.

Alfredo rubbed his knuckles across his brow. "Upstairs, she went--"

-- Cat

The Queen of Paradise Valley - new excerpt

From chapter 35

The honesty Del hoped for didn't happen the next day, or the several days that followed. Moving at a hard pace over rugged terrain, a distance he estimated at near a hundred miles, they were both too weary to do more than exchange occasional sarcastic remarks or belligerent glares.

Summer in the high country meant crisp nights and hot days, the heat intensifying whenever they descended into a protected valley. Despite the rigorous schedule, Del took time every third morning to shave, and every evening to wash layers of sweaty grime from his face, neck, and chest. Diana watched with her customary tight-lipped defiance. The dirt growing on her clothes and face, the pine needles and bits of grass webbing her hair, the mud on her boots--these were symbols of her independence, her freedom. What a monumental trial she was!

"I'm tired, Del. Can we stop and rest?"

He stopped and turned. Bathed in sweat, she drooped in the saddle, silent pleading in her eyes. Her bandanna hung at her throat like a limp rag, her stained shirt clung to her body, molding to her breasts.

They had spent hours in scalding sunlight on a difficult descent down a bare escarpment, and now the trail threaded through a shadowy forest. Dense young pines and shrubs muted the splashing sounds of nearby water. It was early afternoon, too soon to stop for the day, but in a shady clearing, Del dismounted and trudged through a row of aspens toward the sound.

A stream slid over a smooth rock bank and formed a gentle current around the perimeter of a small shimmering lake. A sandy delta fanned out below the rocks; on the other end the stream continued on its restless way. The margins bristled with cattails and reeds, beyond which orange marsh flowers dotted the green.

A lush corner of paradise. Del dropped his hat, rubbed grit from his eyes, and released his hair from a rawhide cord. Diana tossed her hat next to his, tugged off her boots and, rolling her breeches to her knees, waded into the water. Del shed moccasins and shirt and ran, lifted her by the waist and plunged into deeper water. They fell beneath the surface.

She rose gasping, streaming water, and batted at him. "You son of a--"

His laughter startled a flock of shorebirds into flight. "Even savages take baths." He returned to shore, shook himself, and squeezed water from his hair. She swam out, turned to stare at him. He bunched up his shirt and tossed it to her. "Wash this, will you?" The shirt floated in the water and sank. "I'll make camp in the clearing. You took a hell of a chance sleeping beside a stream. Where there's water, there's wild animals. Or wild mountain men interested in more than food." He paused. She had assumed a blank expression, her way of looking at a person that diminished everything he said and did.

Damn woman, crazy woman. What was she trying to prove? Why couldn't she once--just once--bend a bit? Why couldn't she--hell. If one of them had to crack, it wasn't going to be him.

He found her rolled blanket and returned to the lake, tossing it onto the shore. She watched him and turned away. Some gratitude would be nice.

--Cat