The Psychology Behind the Wings of the West Series by Kristy McCaffrey

 

By Kristy McCaffrey

When I began developing characters and ideas for my historical western romance Wings series, the titles intuitively came to me—The Wren, The Dove, The Sparrow, The Blackbird, and The Bluebird. How I would tie the birds into the storylines was a great unknown as I began each tale, but one thing emerged rather quickly—an underlying psychological theme of the journey of the feminine psyche.

In The Wren (Book One), the heroine Molly has been abducted by Comanche when she is nine years old. At nineteen, she finally finds the means to return home to Texas, to search for the life she’d lost so abruptly. We must all leave the safety of “home” at some point in our lives to grow, whether physically or metaphorically, and the lesson is always that home isn’t a place outside of us but an internal sanctuary that we must nurture within ourselves. Molly’s journey comes full circle when she makes a home with the hero, Matt.

In The Dove (Book Two), Claire lives in a saloon run by her mama. Claire isn't a soiled dove, but she still grapples with themes of “prostitution,” although not necessarily of the sexual kind. She doesn’t feel worthy to be a doctor and mutes her own ambitions. This story addresses the desire of the psyche to be healed and whole, but doing so through outside, external means is only effective up to a point. This leads to the next book.

In The Sparrow (Book Three), Emma undergoes a shamanic journey of initiation while in the Grand Canyon. During this process, she is helped by her power animal, Sparrow. Life causes wounds—we all have them—and while mending these are often sought through medicine, at some point an internal journey will be required. It’s the only way to truly heal the soul. While today we might seek the counsel of a trained psychologist, many indigenous people used the medicine man or shaman. The techniques of both are strikingly similar.

In The Blackbird (Book Four), Tess is a storyteller, A Keeper of the Old Ways; this is, and always has been, connected with imparting wisdom and magic to listeners through the telling of tales. She meets a hero who nurtures and protects this side of her, as any true life-partner should. Stories have the power to heal. It is yet the next step in mending the heart and the soul.

In The Bluebird (Book Five), the heroine Molly Rose (niece to the Molly in the first book) yearns to travel and see the world. She connects with a man who can help her achieve these goals. The final step in the psychological journey—once healing has been undertaken and a new, better version of oneself is achieved—is to take all that’s been learned and go forth in the world. Life is an adventure and is meant to be experienced as such.

Learn more about the Wings series at Kristy's website.

 

The Apache by Kristy McCaffrey

The Apache people lived in the southwestern U.S. and were divided into the Chiricahua, Mescalero, Lipan, Western Apache, Jicarilla, and Plains Apache. These groups had little political unity, and developed distinct cultures and language.

They refer to themselves as “The People”, and the Apache culture has remained one of the least understood of all the American Indians due in part to the violence that long plagued Apache-American relations.

There are several origins of the name Apache. The Mexicans, who were often preyed upon by a band of Tci-he-nde Chiricahua, used the word ápache, or “raccoon,” which is an accurate description of the traditional eye-masking war paint worn by the warriors.

Apache didn’t usually marry outside their own tribe, but the men readily took captive women to wife, and captive children of both sexes were often adopted into the community and married. This practice, however, had little effect in diluting the ethnic purity of the Apache.

In the early 1800’s, before the influx of Anglo-Americans to the Southwest, Apache depredations against the Mexicans was high. In desperation, the Mexican government issued a bounty on Apache scalps—100 pesos per warrior, 50 pesos per woman, and 25 pesos per child. The situation in this early frontier (present day northern Mexico) was dire. One distressing aspect was the difficulty in proving a scalp was actually Apache, so no doubt many passive Indians were targeted. Anglo-Americans—called pindah-lickoyee or White-eyed Enemies by the Apache—didn’t occupy this area until after 1850. With the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848, the Americans inherited the responsibility to prevent and punish cross-border incursions by Apaches intent on raiding into Mexico.

Geronimo

There are several famous Apache leaders—Cochise, Victorio, Juh, Nana, and Eskiminzin—but the most notorious was Geronimo. Born about 1823, he was a member of a smaller band of Chiricahua and often participated in raids into old Mexico. While a young man, he married and had three children but in 1850 they were all killed by Mexicans, including his mother. This cemented a lifelong hatred for Hispanics, and it was likely from them that he acquired the name Geronimo. He was never a chief but participated in many revenge attacks against the Mexicans, inciting and coercing other Apache to do his bidding. This left his own people with mixed feelings for him. Although he was held at different times at reservations, he always escaped. In 1886 he finally surrendered and was sent to Florida, but in 1894 was moved to Fort Sill, Oklahoma. In his old age he became a celebrity. He had nine wives in total, and died in 1909 after a fall from a horse.

Don't miss THE BLACKBIRD, Book 4 in my Wings of the West series. While there are some overlapping characters, this book can be read as a standalone.

2015 Laramie Winner for Best in Western Romance

Arizona Territory 1877

Bounty hunter Cale Walker arrives in Tucson to search for J. Howard “Hank” Carlisle at the request of his daughter, Tess. Hank mentored Cale before a falling out divided them, and a mountain lion attack left Cale nearly dead. Rescued by a band of Nednai Apache, his wounds were considered a powerful omen and he was taught the ways of a di-yin, or a medicine man. To locate Hank, Cale must enter the Dragoon Mountains, straddling two worlds that no longer fit. But he has an even bigger problem—finding a way into the heart of a young woman determined to live life as a bystander.

For two years, Tess Carlisle has tried to heal the mental and physical wounds of a deadly assault by one of her papá’s men. Continuing the traditions of her Mexican heritage, she has honed her skills as a cuentista, a storyteller and a Keeper of the Old Ways. But with no contact from her father since the attack, she fears the worst. Tess knows that to reenter Hank Carlisle’s world is a dangerous endeavor, and her only hope is Cale Walker, a man unlike any she has ever known. Determined to make a journey that could lead straight into the path of her attacker, she hardens her resolve along with her heart. But Cale makes her yearn for something she vowed she never would—love.

Read Chapter One at my website.

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Haunted Route 66 in Arizona and a LABOR DAY sale @McCaffreyKristy

By Kristy McCaffrey

Established in 1926, Route 66 was one of the main highways in the U.S. Highway System. Sometimes called the Will Rogers Highway, it became one of the most famous roads in America, running from Chicago to Santa Monica, California. Stops in between included St. Louis, Oklahoma City, Amarillo, Albuquerque, Winslow (Arizona), and Barstow (California). Decommissioned in 1985, sections of the highway have been designated a National Scenic Byway of the “Historic Route 66.”

After World War II, Route 66 became the ultimate road trip for intrepid travelers, leaving a lasting impression in life, and perhaps even in death.

The Hotel Monte Vista in Flagstaff has many ghostly sightings. John Wayne—a guest while filming in Monument Valley—believed he encountered the Phantom Bellboy, who knocks on doors and announces, “room service.” Other spirits include a bank robber who haunts the lounge where he bled to death, an elevator attendant who assists guests, and a woman who stares out the window of Room 305. It’s also been reported that a ghostly Alan Ladd once approached Room 309, which is named after him.

The Red Garter Inn, a former saloon and bordello in Williams, has reports of doors slamming and footsteps when no one is around. Many believe the culprit is a young Hispanic woman named Eve, although no one knows why. Other ghosts include a man who was knifed on the staircase leading to the brothel and an old man who committed suicide.

In 1927, Walter Peck discovered the Grand Canyon Caverns in Peach Springs. He offered tours to Route 66 travelers, pointing out the remains of “cavemen” who later proved to be the skeletal remnants of Hualapai tribesman. Visitors to the caves, especially those who stay overnight, report hearing moaning sounds, seeing shadowy figures, and having rocks aggressively thrown at them from the area where the skeletons were removed. The bunkhouse is also allegedly haunted.

The El Trovatore Motel in Kingman reports that many guests have heard children talking in the parking lot. This has been an ongoing phenomenon for many years. The children are never seen and seem to come from a gorge where Native Americans used to live behind the motel.

La Posada Hotel, located in Winslow, Arizona, was one of the last hotels built for the Fred Harvey Company and designed by the famous Southwest architect Mary Jane Colter. It is said there are ghosts on the property, confirmed by several ghost hunters, but none appear to be malicious. Instead, it’s believed they are the spirits of people who want to return to the most exciting trip they’d ever taken.

Route 66 runs along Interstate 40 in Arizona, and this 158-mile stretch is the longest remaining intact section in the nation.

I've got two books on sale this holiday weekend.

Blue Sage

by

Kristy McCaffrey

What do you do when a woman literally lands at your feet?

Braden Delaney has taken over the family cattle business after the death of his father, but faced with difficult financial decisions, he contemplates selling a portion of the massive Delaney ranch holdings known as Whisper Rock, a place of unusual occurrences. The sudden appearance of a pretty relic-hunter while he’s collecting his livestock, however, is about to change his mind.

Archaeologist Audrey Driggs arrives in the remote wilderness of Northern Arizona for clues to a life-altering experience from her childhood. When she rolls off a mountain and lands at the feet of rugged cowboy Braden Delaney, it’s clear she needs his knowledge of the area to complete her quest. But if she tells him the truth, will he think she’s crazy?

Together, they’ll uncover a long-lost secret.

This long novella was previously published in the anthology A COWBOY TO KEEP.

AMAZON | NOOK | iBOOKS | KOBO | GOOGLE PLAY

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Book 4 in the Wings of the West Series.

Can be read as a standalone novel.

The Blackbird

by

Kristy McCaffrey

Bounty hunter Cale Walker arrives in Tucson to search for J. Howard “Hank” Carlisle at the request of his daughter, Tess. Hank mentored Cale before a falling out divided them and a mountain lion attack left Cale nearly dead. Rescued by a band of Nednai Apache, his wounds were considered a powerful omen and he was taught the ways of a di-yin, or a medicine man. To locate Hank, Cale must enter the Dragoon Mountains, straddling two worlds that no longer fit. But he has an even bigger problem—finding a way into the heart of a young woman determined to live life as a bystander. 

For two years, Tess Carlisle has tried to heal the mental and physical wounds of a deadly assault by one of her papá’s men. Continuing the traditions of her Mexican heritage, she has honed her skills as a cuentista, a storyteller and a Keeper of the Old Ways. But with no contact from her father since the attack, she fears the worst. Tess knows that to reenter Hank Carlisle’s world is a dangerous endeavor, and her only hope is Cale Walker, a man unlike any she has ever known. Determined to make a journey that could lead straight into the path of her attacker, she hardens her resolve along with her heart. But Cale makes her yearn for something she vowed she never would—love.

A steamy historical western romance set in 1877 Arizona Territory.

2015 Laramie Award ~ BEST in Western Romantic Fiction

Don’t miss all the books in the series~

The Wren: Book 1

The Dove: Book 2

The Sparrow: Book 3

The Blackbird: Book 4

The Shiny Penny: Short Story, Book 4.1 (available exclusively to newsletter subscribers)

Song Of The Wren: Short Novella, Book 4.2 (available exclusively to newsletter subscribers)

The Bluebird: Book 5

Echo of the Plains: Short Novella, Book 5.5

AMAZON | NOOK | iBOOKS | KOBO | GOOGLE PLAY

Fort Bowie

By Kristy McCaffrey

Fort Bowie in 1886.

Fort Bowie—located in southeastern Arizona—would become one of the most important military posts in the Arizona Territory. It not only guarded Apache Pass and its important water supply, it was situated directly in Chiricahua Apache country.

Apache Pass is a shallow saddle that separates the southeastern Arizona’s Chiricahua Mountains from the Dos Cabezas. When the United States acquired the area from Mexico, they inherited a corridor that became nationally prominent as the Southern Overland Mail Road, connecting the eastern U.S. to California. Unfortunately, Apache Pass lay in the heart of Apacheria. Because there was a fairly reliable water source at Apache Springs (at the pass), this location was frequented by the Chiricahua Apache Indians.

Fort Bowie in 1893.

The first Fort Bowie—named for Colonel George Washington Bowie, commander of the regiment that established the fort—was built at Apache Pass in 1862, consisting of a 4-foot high stone wall that was 412 feet long. The wall surrounded tents and a stone guard house. During the next six years, patrols attempted to subdue the Apache, who raided and killed travelers not escorted by the military. Living conditions at the fort were undesirable: isolation, bad food, sickness, crude quarters, and the constant threat of Apaches led to low morale and frequent troop rotation.

In 1868, construction began on a second Fort Bowie and encompassed barracks, houses, corrals, a trading post and a hospital. In 1876, most of the Chiricahua Indians were taken to the San Carlos Reservation, but Geronimo escaped, launching the start of a 10-year battle known as the Geronimo War. During this time, Fort Bowie was the center of military operations against the Chiricahua. Geronimo’s final surrender came in 1886. After that, Fort Bowie settled into a more peaceful existence. It was finally closed in 1894.

Geronimo departing for Florida.

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Fort Bowie is featured in my book THE BLACKBIRD.

Amazon | Kobo | Nook | iBooks 

Bounty hunter Cale Walker arrives in Tucson to search for J. Howard “Hank” Carlisle at the request of his daughter, Tess. Hank mentored Cale before a falling out divided them and a mountain lion attack left Cale nearly dead. Rescued by a band of Nednai Apache, his wounds were considered a powerful omen and he was taught the ways of a di-yin, or a medicine man. To locate Hank, Cale must enter the Dragoon Mountains, straddling two worlds that no longer fit. But he has an even bigger problem—finding a way into the heart of a young woman determined to live life as a bystander. 

For two years, Tess Carlisle has tried to heal the mental and physical wounds of a deadly assault by one of her papá’s men. Continuing the traditions of her Mexican heritage, she has honed her skills as a cuentista, a storyteller and a Keeper of the Old Ways. But with no contact from her father since the attack, she fears the worst. Tess knows that to reenter Hank Carlisle’s world is a dangerous endeavor, and her only hope is Cale Walker, a man unlike any she has ever known. Determined to make a journey that could lead straight into the path of her attacker, she hardens her resolve along with her heart. But Cale makes her yearn for something she vowed she never would—love.

A steamy historical western romance set in 1877 Arizona Territory.

2015 Laramie Award ~ BEST in Western Romantic Fiction

“With dastardly villains, plenty of action, a strong heroine, surprising twists and turns, and a sexy cowboy, all underlined by a sensual love story, this historical western romance has something for everyone.” ~ InD’tale Magazine

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The Wave

By Kristy McCaffrey

The Wave

In 2012, I had the opportunity to hike to the Wave—an iconic and well-photographed sandstone alcove, located along the Arizona/Utah border. To enter the area where the Wave is located, you must have a permit. Only 20 people per day are allowed—10 through a lottery system and 10 for walk-in permits submitted the previous day. It took my dad two tries to gain two permits and to my great fortune he invited me along.

We arrived the preceding day in Page, Arizona and stayed the night in a hotel. Arising early the next morning, we found a Denny’s open at 6 a.m. and ate a hearty breakfast since our day packs weren’t filled with anything hot and tasty. The drive to the Wire Pass parking lot—the start of the trailhead—was about 43 miles from Page. The last 8 miles were on a dirt road that is impassable when wet, the red clay turning into a slippery muck. With the day overcast and the air a bit misty, the fact that we threw a few sleeping bags into the back of my dad’s truck at the last minute suddenly seemed like a good idea.

Me signing the hiking register.

The parking lot housed a restroom and a sign-in—we’re here in December but there have been deaths of people trekking to the Wave during the hot summer months. Keeping track of hikers is a must for the local rangers.

We made sure we were as prepared as possible with a detailed map provided by the Bureau of Land Management, a compass, and a GPS (courtesy of my smartphone). But that confidence soon wavered—the start of the trailhead led to a non-trail and we didn’t pay close enough attention to the landmarks provided on the map. We spent the first hour in the wrong direction. The GPS did indicate that we were moving farther away from our target, but it was the first time I’d used the GPS app on my smartphone and I figured we were taking a circuitous route that would eventually bring us to where we needed to be. Our detour did lead to an awesome slot canyon, however. After backtracking, we were soon headed in the right direction. We made certain we nailed every landmark thereafter.

My dad and I were lost the first hour and ended up in this
slot canyon.

The 5.5 mile hike, scrambling over sandy hills and red rock, took about 2 hours. The terrain offered sweeping views of sandstone pillars and red rock buttes, tiny cacti growing in crevices, and giant juniper trees standing vigil. It’s a desolate and quiet place, far from civilization.

At last, we climbed a hill just below a prominent landmark called “the Black Crack” and entered the alcove known as the Wave. The undulating swells of sandstone greeted us and we were awed, but admittedly slightly confused. Is this all there is? We both thought it would be more like a bowl viewed from above.

Another hiker arrived and, having been here before, explained the layout. We needed to climb above the alcove to find the picture-perfect spot, the one that he staked out with his tripod and camera for the next several hours.

We took awesome and surreal pictures, the rock flowing like water around us, and found the Second Wave and Hamburger Rock (per the hiker’s directions).

The Second Wave

Hamburger Rock

There were dinosaur tracks in the area, but we couldn’t muster enough enthusiasm to begin the search. Instead, we dropped into a small canyon below and explored the narrow curves of the walls as they closed in on us. We ate lunch there, since it sheltered us from the wind, then decided to begin the return hike.

The way back wasn’t difficult but the landmarks weren’t easily discernible, blending into one another in a blur of red rock upon red rock. We referenced the map and GPS frequently. My dad attempted a few compass readings, but the simple device was deceptive. In our weary state, we realized neither of us really knew how to use it. Luckily, my phone battery was still above fifty percent so we relied on the GPS. We were quite happy when we finally made it back to the car.

My dad and I at the Wave.

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The Wren (Wings of the West Book 1)

Captured by Comanche as a child, Molly Hart was assumed dead. Ten years later, Texas Ranger Matt Ryan finds a woman with the same blue eyes.

The Dove (Wings of the West Book 2)

Reunited with Logan Ryan on the steps of the White Dove Saloon, Claire Waters hides under the guise of a fancy girl...and lets the ex-deputy believe the worst.

The Sparrow (Wings of the West Book 3)

In Grand Canyon, Emma Hart braves the unknown and the sudden appearance of Texas Ranger Nathan Blackmore.

The Blackbird (Wings of the West Book 4)

Haunted by a deadly attack, Tess turns to bounty hunter Cale Walker to find her missing padre. But in the land of the Apache, can he free her heart?

Into the Land of Shadows

In the land of the Navajo, spirits and desire draw Ethan and Kate close, leading them deeper into the shadows and to each other.

The Final Stages Of Writing A Book

By Kristy McCaffrey

Last week, I was in the home stretch of editing my manuscript The Blackbird. I’d spent months writing, researching, and rewriting the story, then I sent it off to the editor. As is usual when a manuscript is returned, there were many comments and suggestions, with the bulk being fairly minor concerns. (Along with those pesky grammar issues—it seems I still don’t know how to punctuate a compound verb. Yes, we authors are always learning something new when it comes to writing skills.)

There was a bigger issue, however, in the work. The heroine and her father had a rather volatile, and, the editor felt, unforgivable, aspect to their relationship. And while she loved the hero and his role in the tale, the heroine’s actions gave her pause. I appreciated the input because sometimes the writer is simply too immersed in the work to really see the bigger picture. But I had to consider carefully how I wanted to handle any modifications since anything I changed would ripple throughout the story.

It’s always good to sleep on it before making any knee-jerk decisions. And as I’ve done many times in the past when faced with a crossroads in my work, I hoped for a bit of inspiration. I can say with confidence that 95% of the time, no magical guidance ever arrives. As an author, I’m always forced to simply make a choice about which way to go in the story. But, this time, I did receive guidance.

I’d been reading a book called Eyes of the Wild: Journeys of Transformation with the Animal Powers by Eleanor O’Hanlon. Ms. O’Hanlon is a field researcher for international conservation groups and shares her travels and experiences with animals, beginning with whales, but also including wolves, bears, and horses. That night, I read a section where she recounted the tale of Sedna, a creative power to the people of the Arctic basin.

Sedna lived with her father in a tent made of reindeer skin. Together, they followed the herds across the great tundra plain. Before her mother died, she taught Sedna many things, such how to make clothing using finely carved needles from the bones of birds and how our own bodies are only clothes that we wear for a short time, when we journey from other worlds.

Sedna grew to be a beautiful young woman. One day, a handsome stranger appeared, and he was so vivid and compelling that she decided to marry him. Her father tried to advise against it, but Sedna wouldn’t listen. She left with the man, his hair the color of a raven. Once they were alone, she came to know that he truly was a raven. In fear, she fled and called out to her father, who came to her in his boat.

As Sedna and her father attempted to leave, a great storm came upon them, and the boat began to sink. Frantic with fear, the father threw Sedna overboard in an effort to save himself. As she clung to the side, he cut her fingers one by one until she sank to the bottom. In death, she met her mother and entered a light filled with all the love she thought she’d lost.

Photo courtesy of mrpsmythopedia.wikispaces.com

Back on the surface, her father was lost in grief over what he’d done. As Sedna tried to reach him, her fingers grew back, creating the beluga whales, and the orcas, and the narwhals. All the whales sprung forth from Sedna—the grays, the humpbacks, the blues, the fins, and the bowheads. As the whale song reached Sedna’s father, he at last found peace in the grace of the giant beasts.

I had the answer for my story. I needed to redeem my heroine’s father, and once I did this, then her forgiveness would ring with far more truth. I was glad to dig a little deeper into the narrative, to find something more authentic than was previously present.

As an aside, I also decided to change a character’s name during my final proof of the story. I had an Apache woman named Bly and an old teamster called Vern Blight. Bly and Blight were so similar that I was getting confused in my last read-through. So, I did a search, and replaced ‘Bly’ with ‘Smita’. This proved to be a huge nuisance because Microsoft Word replaced other words that contained ‘bly’. ‘Possibly’ became ‘possiSmita’. ‘Understandably’ became ‘understandaSmita’. I simply couldn’t search for all the permutations, so I had to proof the entire manuscript one more time. Ack! I found many—presumaSmita, incrediSmita, and, my favorite, scramSmita.

But, I did it. The Blackbird is finished and available in digital formats. I hope you’ll check it out.

Kindle | Smashwords

(It will be available at Nook, iTunes and Kobo within a few days.)

For two years, Tess Carlisle has tried to heal the mental and physical wounds of a deadly assault by one of her papá’s men, but with no contact from Hank Carlisle since the attack, she’s determined to track him down. Her only hope is bounty hunter Cale Walker, a protégé of Hank’s and a man unlike any she has ever known. As he teaches her strength not just in body but spirit, he also makes her yearn for something she vowed she never would—love. (Rating: Steamy)

Excerpt from The Blackbird

A bit of inquiry led him (Cale) to a hovel with a dirt floor and an underlying stench of sweaty bodies. It was late afternoon, but there were already many customers, mostly Mexicanos, and they eyed him warily. He ordered a bourbon and downed whatever rotgut had been substituted in one swallow, not of a mind to argue with the man serving as a barkeep behind the wooden plank.

Cale took in the lay of the room, welcoming the distraction after spending so much time with Tess. Her emotional distance, while he understood it, irritated him.

And the fact that it bothered him only annoyed him more.

He didn't need to befriend her to find Hank. He knew that. And damn it, he could be unfeeling and detached, too.

Cale set down his glass and the barkeep refilled it. Emptying it, Cale continued this routine as Tess plagued his thoughts. The twinge of attraction that gnawed at him like a coyote chewing off his foot to escape a snare made him want to save her and run from her at the same time.

After playing cards and downing more liquor than he should've, he learned of a fella who might have a lead to Worthington. In complete darkness, he managed to find the man's adobe home near the edge of town. Just as he approached, the distinctive sound of a cane hitting the dirt echoed behind him. He spun around.

“What are doing here?” he asked Tess.

She stopped before him, out-of-breath. “Trying to find you.” Her exasperated tone and narrowed eyes clearly showed her condemnation, and he felt like a school boy caught by his teacher. He stepped back before she smelled the liquor on his breath, but it was too late.

“Are you drunk?”

She moved toward him and he could smell rose oil. Damn, she smells nice. Even in the inky night, he could see the flash of anger in her eyes. He liked it. And he found it difficult to ignore the appeal of her scent, the lush curve of her mouth, the smoothness of her skin, leading from her face to her neck to...

“Just a little,” he conceded.

“Whatever on earth for?”

“It's tough for a man traveling with a woman.”

That caused her to freeze.

Damn again. He shouldn't have said that.

“Look Tess, I didn't mean it that way. It's just been a long few days.”

She stepped back and he tried not to notice how enticing her hair looked, unbound and flowing over her shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, nodding toward the dwelling.

“Following a lead on Hank.”

“Then, I'll help you.”

Cale didn't know what else to say, so he nodded. He walked to the door and knocked.

An elderly Mexican answered.

“Are you Juan?”

“Sí.”

“My name is Cale Walker, and this is Tess Carlisle.”

At that, the man peered more closely at Tess. “You Hank's girl?”

The man and Tess began conversing in Spanish. Short and wiry, gray hair sprinkled Juan’s dark hair, and deep wrinkles fanned the sides of his eyes.

“Translate please,” Cale said under his breath to Tess.

“He can show us where Henry Worthington was several months ago, in the hills to the east. Maybe Hank is with him. Juan isn’t certain.”

After more discussion, she said, “He doesn’t want money. He said Hank did a favor for him once, so he will repay his daughter. We’re to meet at the livery tomorrow morning at seven o’clock sharp.”

Juan interjected something in his native tongue.

“He says we’d better make it eight thirty,” Tess added. “You’re going to need to sleep that off.”

“I'm not drunk.”

Tess gave Cale a look that said she didn’t believe him. She shook Juan’s hand. “Gracias.”

She turned and began walking away, the cane at her side and her checkered skirt undulating around her.

Cale nodded to Juan and ran a bit to catch up to her, swaying from a bout of dizziness. “Wait for me, Tess.”

She paused. “Maybe I should let you borrow my cane.”

“No, I'll be fine. I just don't want you walking alone.”

“I came here alone.”

He fell into step beside her, focusing diligently on walking straight. “You really don't make friends easily, do you?”

“I didn't know it was important to you that we be friends.”

“Well, I don't like it when we're not getting along.”

“We've only known each other a few days, Señor Walker.”

“Now hold on.” Was he slurring his words? He couldn't be sure. “You need to call me Cale.”

“Because you call me Tess?”

“I'm supposed to call you Miss Carlisle?”

“That would be proper, wouldn't it?”

Cale laughed. “But you and I are practically related because of Hank.”

Tess stopped. “So, you see yourself as my brother?”

Hell no.

At least he had enough sense not to blurt that out.

He'd definitely had too much to drink. This rarely happened to him. He imbibed at times, but always within his boundaries.

In a flash, a hunger for this woman coursed through him. Unable to tear his gaze from hers, he wanted to set this boundary clearly. “I'm not your brother, Tess.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly, as if she were about to speak. Her momentary hesitation was all it took for Cale to know that she wasn’t immune to what was happening between them.

She knew he wanted her.

Copyright © 2015 K. McCaffrey LLC