Seeing Cruz Montoya, talking with him, had only driven the point home. Even now, in broad daylight, walking swiftly down the crowded street, she felt her cheeks flush, her pulse race just thinking of how his dark gaze had drilled into hers, silently prodding her, reminding her of what they’d shared. And he’d given her his phone number, one she’d stupidly seared into her brain. As if she would ever call him!

“Help me,” she whispered as she stepped off the curb.

A horn blasted.

She jumped, catching a glimpse of a huge, speeding SUV.

“Watch out!” someone yelled as she stumbled backward, her heel hitting the curb.

Immense tires screeched over the thunderous rumble of an engine.

As if in slow motion, she started to fall. Caught sight of the metallic beast with its grinning maw of a grill and headlights like chrome and glass eyes.

Strong arms surrounded her and jerked her back to the sidewalk. The dirty SUV flashed by only inches from her. It swerved and veered, cutting across traffic in a blur of dirty side panels and smoked glass windows.

Heart thudding inside her ribs, adrenaline and fear chasing through her blood, Lucia felt the strong arms slacken a bit. Just as she caught a whiff of a familiar aftershave.

“Oh, no,” she whispered, and found herself staring into the dark, assessing gaze of Cruz Montoya.

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 30

At St. Elsinore’s, slightly bugged that Slade hadn’t returned, Valerie tried to shrug off the dark memories that clung to her. She met a few of the nuns and lay teachers at the orphanage, those who had worked with Camille, none of whom wore habits. When she mentioned the wardrobe to Sister Georgia, the older woman nodded. “We’re not as steeped in tradition as St. Marguerite’s,” she said. “Our priest, Father Thomas, is fairly progressive, and I, for one, was glad to see the habits and wimples and antiquated dress go. To each his own, of course, but here, I hope, we’re more modern and have more flexibility, in keeping with the congregation. Our mission is to serve God, of course, but I don’t think he minds if we’re a little more comfortable as we do it.”

Val kept up with the energetic mother superior, walking swiftly but on the lookout for Slade, who had seemed to disappear with the phone call. How odd. From his end of the conversation, she assumed that one of his brothers had called from the ranch to discuss a problem with the livestock, but that should have been easily handled. Unless he, too, needed to talk to a vet or the ranch foreman or someone . . .

She did look through the windows and spotted Slade’s truck, parked where he’d left it, so she decided whatever had happened he’d deal with it and catch up with them.