The Other Side Of Paradise

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” He smiled at Mary. “Just don’t be surprised if a camera pops up in your face one day and some nosy reporter demands you tell everything you know about us.”

“What do you do when that happens?” Mary asked.

“Ignore them,” Janis advised. “Tell ’em you’re new here and don’t know anything about the family.”

Mary hoped she wouldn’t have to face that dilemma.

“So, where are you from?” Janis asked.

Mary figured Jonah would tell them the basic facts about her, so she gave them a brief summary of her life.

“Uncle Nick knows a lot about horses,” Keith said after she’d explained about Attila’s injury.

Janis agreed. “Also his nephews. Zack and the twins do all the training of their cowponies. They know everything about injuries and physical therapy for horses.”

Mary recognized the uncle’s name. “Uh, the Daltons who live on the next ranch?”

“Yes,” Keith said. “You know them?”

“No. Jonah mentioned them.”

“The eyes,” Janis said suddenly. “It’s the eyes. You have eyes the exact same shade of blue that the Daltons have. All of them except Seth.”

Mary realized her shades were lying on the shelf where she’d put them after coming inside from the sunlight to find something for lunch. She’d forgotten to put them on when the couple arrived. “My father’s eyes were blue,” she said, not having the least idea if this was true, but feeling a need to say something, as if she had to defend herself.

“They’re really beautiful,” Janis said with no trace of envy. “Hey, man, are you through eating?” she asked her son.

“Mmmmff,” he replied, then yawned hugely.

Janis tickled him under the chin. “We need to get home. It’s nearly time for his afternoon nap.”

After the others were on their way, Mary stood at the door, her sunglasses safely on her face, and watched them go. A happy family, she thought, and tried not to notice the empty pang that stabbed her in the vicinity of her heart. She’d done quite a bit of baby-sitting over the years. Babies were nice. They didn’t ask questions.

After riding around the herd once more and doing another count to be sure none of the cattle had strayed into the forest, she explored a trickle of water that flowed into the little creek, one that she’d noticed the day before.

As she’d suspected, when she traced it to its source, it came from a spring, not just any spring, but a hot spring. A faint swirl of steam rose from the surface of a little pool where the water collected before plunging over a three-foot rocky ledge and winding its way to the creek.

She glanced around and listened hard. Only the random twittering of birds and an occasional moo from a cow greeted her ears. She ground-hitched the horse, then tested the water with her finger. Just right.

After checking around once more, she swirled her hand through the pool to make sure it wasn’t deceptively pleasant on the surface and hot—or cold—in the deeper part.

It was perfect.

She stripped her clothing, hung everything neatly on a nearby branch, hesitated, then loosened her hair. She’d been wanting to scrub it since Jonah had found the tick on her the day before.

Sliding into the pool, she heaved a sigh of contentment. Ah, bliss…

Jonah found the herd resting peacefully when he arrived Wednesday afternoon, but the new wrangler wasn’t anywhere in sight. His horse greeted the other two in the meadow. From the trees, he heard an answering whicker. He dismounted, tied up and walked toward the woods bordering the creek.

Stopping in the deep shade, Jonah spotted Mary’s horse munching some mossy plants to one side. He circled around and walked beside the tiny creek that flowed into the main one that ran through the meadow.

Wisps of steam rose from the pool. At first he didn’t see anything unusual, then a vision rose from the depths, showering water like crystal gems all around.

He froze as Mary stood in the hip-deep water, black hair cascading down her back as she swept it from her face. He got a glimpse of smooth shoulders and the delicate indentation of her spine, of slender hips and nice curves.

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