And neither was his granddaughter.

* * *

Though the bed was surprisingly comfortable, Gage spent most of the night tossing and turning, replaying the scene in the cabin next door. Part of him wished he had taken Abby up on her impulsive offer. The other half wished he had left her back in Denver.

A trip like this was dangerous, even without the very strong possibility that the men they’d left behind would follow them into the desert. And capable or not, Abby was still a greenhorn. After what had happened to Cassandra, he didn’t want the responsibility of trying to protect a woman he cared about.

Cared about. The words spun through his head. He more than cared about Abby. His body still ached for her. Images of all that fiery hair and those sexy curves kept him awake half the night. But it was her confidence and determination that appealed to him most, her zest for life that stirred something deep inside him.

It seemed as if he’d just fallen asleep when sunlight burned through the windows, rousing him. With a groan, he rolled over to check the time, climbed out of bed and hit the tiny shower, then dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants and an olive drab T-shirt and headed next door to check on Abby.

She was already gone, he discovered, and he turned his attention to the ranch house, hoping he hadn’t missed breakfast. Grabbing a plate, he filled it from the steaming dishes on the sideboard—eggs, bacon, country potatoes, and toast—then carried his plate over and sat down beside her.

She had plaited her hair in that single loose braid she’d been wearing the day he’d met her. The urge to remove the band and run his fingers through all those silky strands had his body stirring to life.

Abby looked up from beneath her thick dark lashes and gave him a too-sweet smile. “Sleep well?”

Amusement trickled through him. “No. Believe me, I paid the price for what didn’t happen last night.”

Abby laughed softly, breaking the tension.

Gage ran a finger down her cheek. “I meant what I said. We aren’t finished. Not by a long shot.”

One of her eyebrows came up. “Then again, maybe we are.”

He smiled. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

Their eyes locked, and a challenge passed between them. Then both of them went back to eating.

“What’s on our schedule today?” Abby asked.

“I want to go over to the Superstition Museum, take a look at some of their records. We’ve got an appointment with Isaac Mason, the guy in charge. I’ve also got the names of a couple of people who are experts on the history of the mines in the area.”

She nodded. “When will we actually be going in?”