“Ask me what?” Judd’s voice cut across her thoughts as he emerged from the bathroom behind her, wiping his neck with a small towel he’d found. The dark shadow of his beard, which had been evident last night, was gone temporarily, but in the bright morning light he reminded her just as much of a black-winged bird of prey as he had the night before.
Honor took in the brilliant midnight eyes, the emotionless expression on his bronzed face and the hard lines of his body in jeans and a fresh, dark shirt. Her spirits sank.
“Paco here wants to know if he can have a ride in the Cessna,” she explained quietly.
Judd arched one brow and looked solemnly down at the young boy. He said something in rapid, expert Spanish and Paco’s face fell in disappointment. Honor realized Judd must have refused the ride. But the conversation went on for a few more minutes, the language too rapid for her to understand completely. In the end Paco left with an expectant grin on his dark features.
“What did you tell him?” Honor asked as she shut the door behind her small visitor.
Judd shrugged. “That I didn’t have enough fuel to take all the kids in the village joyriding and that if I did it for Paco I’d have to do it for the others. He understood and we compromised.”
“Compromised?” Honor made her way across the small room to where the electric hot plate sat on a shelf.
“I agreed to let him and the other kids take turns sitting in the pilot’s seat this afternoon. He’s gone off to tell the others.”
Honor smiled with sudden, unexpected gratitude. “Oh, Judd, that’s very nice of you. Thank you. The kids will love that.”
He eyed her mouth, not quite knowing what to make of the smile. “It’s no big deal. I don’t mind since it looks like I’m going to be stuck here for two wasted days anyway.” He could have kicked himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. The dazzling, apparently genuine smile she was giving him disappeared instantly and the warmth that had momentarily lit her eyes was gone as if it had never been. It was replaced by the now-familiar wariness.
“Yes,” she agreed in a grim little voice. “You will be stuck here for two wasted days, won’t you?”
There was a small silence while she began heating a tiny skillet over the hot plate. Honor sensed that he was searching for another topic of conversation and the fact that he was temporarily at a loss for words was unaccountably satisfying.
“Paco seemed to like you,” Judd finally remarked. He swung around one of the two straight-backed wooden chairs in the room and straddled it backward, his arms resting on the top.
Honor lifted one shoulder dismissingly. “I pay an outrageous sum for fresh eggs. I also pay well for fresh tortillas and fresh vegetables. Nothing like having money in a poor town to make one popular!”
“Or very unpopular,” he retorted wryly. There as another pause and then he remarked laconically, “Everyone I’ve talked to for the past week who remembered you seemed to like you. They all spoke enthusiastically of the polite lady with the beautiful smile.”
“I guess I have the bulk of the Mexican population fooled, haven’t I?” she retorted bleakly, concentrating on the eggs while she heated two tortillas on the side of the hot plate. “Too bad everyone I’ve met hasn’t had the opportunity to discuss my character failings with my loving family. Tell me something, Judd. How did you convince all those nice people to tell you about me?”
“I gave them an explanation they could comprehend very easily.”
“I’ll bet. What was it?” She dished out the eggs onto two chipped pottery plates and added a corn tortilla to each.
“That you were my woman who had run away and that I’d come to find you and take you home,” he told her very casually, accepting one of the plates.
“So that’s why Paco kept calling you my man.” Honor sighed, having guessed as much. “What a joke.”
He expertly curled the tortilla and used it to scoop up a section of egg. “If it’s any consolation everyone seemed to be on your side.”
“Then why the hell didn’t they refuse to tell you where I was?” she snapped in annoyance.
“They wouldn’t dream of interfering in a domestic situation of that sort,” he drawled as she took the other straight-backed chair and began to eat in short, angry bites. ‘They all recognize the elemental fact mat a man has certain rights over his woman.”
“Uh-huh. So how did you get the impression they were on my side?” she demanded bitterly.
“Nearly everyone I talked to urged me not to beat you too severely when I eventually located you. They all seemed to feel you were just a high-strung, temperamental female who needed a gentle hand, not a heavy one.”
Honor made a small, disgusted sound and downed another bite of egg and tortilla. “It looks like Mexico wasn’t such a good choice as a hiding place, was it? Maybe I should have tried Canada.” Except that there she wouldn’t have had the language barrier to slow down the two men who were hunting her. For all the good that had done her in the end, she thought sadly. They had simply hired someone who spoke Spanish to come after her.
Judd made no immediate response to her rhetorical comment. He wasn’t about to tell her how strange it had seemed to pretend to everyone he met that she was his errant woman. He didn’t want her to know about the times he’d been alone in the Cessna between villages when reality and fantasy had begun to merge; about the times he’d begun to wonder what the hunt would have been like if she actually were his runaway bride. The last time someone had advised him not to beat Honor too severely he had found himself nodding gravely and agreeing to accept the advice. The old man who was giving it had been pleased, smiling toothlessly and clapping him on the shoulder.
“You will see, my son,” the old man had said cheerfully. “It will be worth your while to go easy on her. She has spirit and a good heart. A wise man does not break the spirit or harden a softhearted woman. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”
By the end of the week Judd was asking himself over and over again just what sort of woman he was hunting. Could she really fool so many people? Possibly. Look what she’d managed to accomplish last night. She’d wrangled a promise of two days’ grace out of him—and that was after she’d pointed a gun at him and gone for his eyes with her nails. Automatically his fingers went to the angry red line on his cheek.