His question took her by surprise. But before she could think of any sort of response, he took her by the elbow and headed them both down the trodden path to the house.
Once inside, Anna left him to his own company and hurried away to the shower. Miguel washed his hands in the kitchen sink and made a quick search of the refrigerator. Just as he expected, there was half a casserole of beef enchiladas. He put them in the microwave to heat and went about making a tossed salad.
By the time Anna reappeared, he had the table set for two and strong coffee brewing. The wide-toothed comb she'd been dragging through her wet hair stopped in midair as her gaze went from him to the waiting supper.
“You weren't kidding about getting into the refrigerator,” she said.
A wan smile touched his lips. “No. Your parents have always encouraged me to make myself at home here. And I do at times, when it's more convenient than going up to the honeymoon house.”
So he felt comfortable here in the ranch house. Somehow she resented that. In a little more than a year he was certain about belonging to this place. Anna had grown up here on the ranch and in this very house, yet she wasn't at all sure she belonged here anymore. She wanted to, but so many things had changed while she'd been away. Or was it she who had changed?
Miguel gestured toward the table. “If you want to take a seat, I'll see to your hands before we eat.”
Anna wanted to tell him he had a thing about authority and taking control, but she kept the opinion to herself. In his own way the man was trying to help her, and she didn't want to appear ungrateful.
Slipping her comb into the pocket of her robe, she took a seat at the empty end of the table and laid her palms upward on the tabletop. Miguel fetched a first aid kit from a cabinet over the refrigerator. Then taking a seat across from her, picked several items from the plastic case.
As he poured peroxide over the wounds, Miguel wanted to curse at the sight of her marred skin, but he forced himself to bite back the choice words on his lips. The damage was already done. And for the next month he was going to have to try to get along with this woman.
“Have you always been a stubborn girl?” he asked as he dabbed at the broken skin with a cotton ball.
Trying not to wince, Anna said, “Not really. My brother Adam is the stubborn one. When he gets a notion in his head, there's no changing it.”
“Humph. If you two didn't look so much alike I would doubt you were twins. You're nothing like your brother.”
“In what way?” she asked, curious that he'd made any sort of assumption about her, other than that she was a pampered rose.
He lifted his head and looked at her. Anna once again felt undressed as his dark gaze drifted to where her blue silk robe parted at the vee between her breasts.
“Your brother appears to be an uncomplicated guy.”
She desperately needed to gulp in a long breath of air, but she forced herself to breathe as slowly as possible, to behave as though his gaze, his touch, did not affect her at all.
“If that's what you think, then you don't know Adam. He's had his own demons to deal with.”
His lips twisted. “Everybody has those. At least he's kept a sense of humor about him. He can and does laugh.”
“I haven't exactly seen you splitting your sides since I met you,” she remarked coolly.
He unfastened the cap on a tube of ointment and gently smeared it over the ragged skin. “Most people aren't up to laughing when they've had a splitting, clawing tigress thrown at them.”
Pain from her hands and anger at him had Anna gritting her teeth. “You really are insufferable. It's no wonder you live alone up there in the honeymoon house.”
Miguel's gaze shifted to her face. As he made a lazy search of her features, Anna felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster. She'd never met a man so commanding, so totally and utterly male.
“I live alone because I choose to. Not because I have to.”
His attention turned back to his task, and for long moments Anna contented herself to study the wave in his thick dark hair, the way his big hands moved so nimbly. He smelled of sweat and dust, cattle and horses and sage. The combined scents were exotic, lusty, a strong aphrodisiac to her senses.
“Mother said you were married once,” she said before she could stop the words.
He didn't look up. “She was right,” he said bluntly. “I was married. Once.”
“I don't suppose you'd want to tell me what happened?”
He glanced up long enough for her to see the frown on his face. “What do you mean, what happened?”
She shrugged. “I mean why you aren't still married.”
He reached for a piece of gauze and gently placed it across the affected area of her hand. “I guess you could say she wanted more than I could give her.”
He sounded bitter, and Anna wondered how long it had been since he'd gotten divorced. From the impression her mother had given her, a long time. If that was the case, his lingering sourness meant he'd either loved his wife very much or hated the very sight of her. She longed to know which, though she couldn't understand why.
Miguel ripped off several strips of adhesive tape and fastened the pads of gauze to both her hands. Once he was satisfied the bandages would stay in place, he put all the first aid items back into their small case, then left the table to put it away.
Anna tentatively flexed her fingers and was relieved to find the stinging soreness wasn't nearly as bad as it had been earlier. “This does feel much better, Miguel. Thank you.”
Her appreciation for his nursing took him off guard. He'd grown so used to Anna's cutting remarks he hadn't been expecting any sort of thanks. And he suddenly realized this woman was everything but predictable.
“You're welcome,” he murmured, then feeling more awkward than he could ever remember, he turned his attention to putting the food on the table.
They had both filled their plates and taken several bites before the silence in the room was broken by Anna.
“I don't think you told me why you came back to the ranch tonight. Wouldn't it have been easier to have stayed at the roundup camp with the other men? Now you'll have that long ride back in the morning.”
He glanced up from the steaming enchilada on his plate, then quickly wished he hadn't. The sight of Anna with her wet curls and flimsy robe was enough to turn any man's thoughts. Yet it was not her sexiness that was touching the deepest part of him. It was her frail, battered appearance. The purple bruise against her white face. Her bandaged hands trying to maneuver the simple act of eating. She was so young and innocent in many ways. And yet there was a weariness in her eyes that said she'd lived far too much too fast.
“I wanted to see if you'd heard news from Adam. And I...well, I wasn't too keen about leaving the ranch so deserted.”
“I'm here. The place wouldn't have been totally empty. Besides, no one ever makes mischief on the Bar M. I don't suppose anything bad has happened on this place sinceâ” She broke off and her mouth parted as she realized what she'd been about to say.
He studied her for a few moments, then said, “Since Belinda Waller tried to burn it down twenty odd years ago.”
Her brows lifted with even more surprise. “You know the story?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “I wasn't sure if you did. I shouldn't have said anything.”
She met his gaze head-on as though to assure him she wasn't ashamed of how she and her twin came to be born. “Adam and I have known for years that Belinda Waller was our birth mother and Tomas Murdock was our actual father. Chloe and Wyatt never tried to keep the truth a secret from us or anyone. In fact, our parents always encouraged us to be proud of our heritage. And we are proud. At least I'm fairly certain Adam is. And I am, too.”
His expression solemn, he studied her face. “I hear a
but
in there somewhere.”
Anna found she couldn't look at him, and she wasn't at all sure why. She wasn't ashamed of her mother. She simply had mixed emotions about her.
“I guess it's hard for me to accept that she left me and my brother on the porch of this ranch as if we were no more than a basket of laundry.”
He let out a sigh. He didn't want to feel anything for this woman. She was far richer than most women could ever dream of being. Yet he could see shadows of pain behind her pale green eyes, and that bothered Miguel. He of all people knew what it was like to hurt, to be betrayed by the one you loved.
“From what I understand she was a troubled woman on drugs at the time. She thought she was leaving you in the care of your father.”
“Yes. She didn't know he was already dead from a heart attack. Realistically I understand all that. I guess it's the maternal instinct in me that cringes at the idea of giving up your own flesh and blood. And then to think she tried to burn the ranch down and nearly killed my Aunt Rose and Uncle Harlan in the process. It's not something I want to go around repeating to just anyone. I'm surprised you knew about her.”
“I imagine the story of Belinda and Tomas will always be repeated by the people in Lincoln County. Especially with you twins being a reminder of their affair.”
Earlier, Anna's stomach had been craving food, now she wasn't sure if she could finish what was left on her plate. She forced herself to swallow several bites, then said, “Belinda kept a journal of that time in her life. Daddy has kept it all these years. When Adam and I were teenagers he let us read it in hopes that we might understand her better. But I'm not sure if I'll ever understand what motivated her to do the things she did. I like to think it was love.”
Miguel hadn't expected her to speak of her family so candidly to him. Up until now, she'd seemed to resent the least little question he'd put to her. The fact that she'd opened herself up to him both pleased and bothered Miguel. He didn't want to be tugged, willingly or not, toward this woman. Yet he could feel something inside of him going out to her, and he was helpless to stop it.
“I can't speak for her, but I do know your parents love all of you children very much.”
The corners of her lips tilted upward. “We couldn't have better parents than Chloe and Wyatt,” she agreed, then cast him a curious glance. “What about you, Miguel? Have you never had family in this area?”
He shook his head. “My father died several years ago of a stroke. After that my mother went back to Mexico to live with her sister.”
“Were your parents originally from Mexico?”
“My father was a U.S. citizen. My mother was from the old country. I think that's one reason why she went back. She feels more at home there.”
“Do you have siblings?”
“A younger sister. She lives in Colorado. I don't get to see her nearly enough.”
His remark surprised Anna. He didn't seem like a family man at all. To Anna he was more like a lone wolf, who needed no one but himself. But first impressions could be wrong, and who knew what she might learn about him before her time here on the ranch came to a close.
Across the table from her, Miguel finished the last few bites from his plate, then left the table to fetch the coffeepot. When he started to refill Anna's cup she placed her hand over the rim.
“No, thanks. I couldn't eat or drink another bite. Besides, I don't want the caffeine to keep me awake.”
“You should be tired enough to sleep in spite of it,” he told her.
As Anna watched him carry the pot back over to its warming plate, she thought of the many nights this past year she'd suffered insomnia. Working herself to the point of exhaustion had never seemed to help. As soon as her head hit the pillow, all sorts of questions, doubts and worries would plague her like an unshakable fever.
And in the end her troubled thoughts would always travel back to the Bar M and her family. Anna had never realized just how much she'd missed both until four days ago when she'd rounded the bend in the lane and had seen the white hacienda and its red tiled roof sparkling in the bright New Mexican sunlight.
Restless and edgy now that the simple meal was coming to a close, Anna pushed herself to her feet and carried her plate over to the sink. Her legs felt ridiculously weak, and she leaned heavily against the counter. Not for anything did she want Miguel to know just how physically taxing the day had been to her.
“Anna?”
Was that his voice right behind her ear? She started to turn and look and then she felt his breath ruffling her hair and his fingers curve around her upper arm.
“I don't want to seem inhospitable, Miguel,” she said quietly. “But I think I'd better say good-night and go to bed.”
His sigh was full of relief. “For once we are in agreement,” he said, then before Anna could guess his intentions, one arm came around her shoulders, the other beneath the backs of her knees.