Santa Fe Fortune & How to Marry a Matador

just have to reserve the time on our calendars.”
    “Consider yourself penned in,” she said, her soul dancing and sprinting in the wind.
    Little lines tugged at the corners of his mouth as blue eyes crinkled.
    “I’m relieved you didn’t say penciled.”
    Gwen laughed with delight as he pulled her into a hug, her back pressed to his chest, her gaze facing the mountains. “Seen enough?” he asked, his breath tickling her ear. Shivers raced down her spine and shimmied to her tailbone.
    “Of this view, yes,” she answered breathlessly.
    “Good,” he said, giving her neck an affectionate nudge. “Then let’s have lunch.”
    Gwen had to admit she was starved. Laying her heart on the line for Dan must have consumed quite a few calories. “Only if you’ll do me a favor,” she said coquettishly.
    “Anything,” he said, turning her to face him. “Anything at all.”
    “Order me an avocado margarita?” she asked with an impish smile.

    Gwen smiled at Dan over her iced coffee and took a big bite of chocolate chip cookie. “This has been so much fun. I’m glad you suggested getting out of Santa Fe.”
    They’d shared a delicious lunch at a chic vegetarian place, then had taken their time tooling around the small town just south of Taos Pueblo. Quaint boutiques and outdoor eateries lined the main streets of this tiny burg tucked up in the New Mexico hills. A burgeoning ski resort in winter, it was as sleepy as a summer sunset in July, random pockets of tourists mixing in with the laid-back locals. Dan set down his coffee on the art deco tabletop of the offbeat outside café.
    “Gwen,” he said with a seriousness that took her aback. “I’ve got something I need to tell you.” There was a hesitation in his voice she hadn’t heard before.
    Gwen felt her stomach wrench in anticipation. Whatever he was about to say couldn’t be good news. She felt suddenly ill, all jittery and nauseous as if she’d consumed too much caffeine. The trouble was she’d only taken one sip.
    “Remember that day in the park when I mentioned Jocelyn?”
    “Your sister?” she asked, headily confused.
    “That’s right, my younger sister. The one who passed.”
    He averted her gaze and hung his head, looking deeply ashamed. Seconds ticked by so slowly Gwen could hear the clatter of each cup and saucer cleared by the busboy.
    “Dan? What’s going on?” she asked softly.
    He stared straight at her then, blue eyes rimmed with sorrow. “I’m afraid that was my fault. All of it, my fault.”
    Gwen leaned forward touching the arm of this kind, caring man. While Gwen hadn’t known him long, she sensed in her bones he wasn’t the sort to willingly inspire any kind of family tragedy. “But, how can this be?”
    “She wanted to go riding. God knows there was nothing Jocelyn loved more than riding that palomino.” He almost smiled at the memory, but this time the tug at his lips was remorseful. “But my mom was plum set against it.”
    “Against it? But why?”
    He pursed his lips a moment before continuing. “Jocelyn wasn’t a regular girl. She was special, you know?”
    “Like…disabled?” Gwen was floundering here and feeling as if they were wading into dangerous territory. She didn’t want to offend him by guessing wrong, but she did genuinely want to understand.
    “Jocelyn had a rare condition, cystic fibrosis.”
    “The lung disease?”
    “Manageable but very serious. Most sufferers don’t live beyond thirty.”
    He paused a moment, letting the weight of that sink in.
    “My dad was of the opinion, go on, let her lead a normal life. My mom was very protective.”
    “What did you think?” she asked softly.
    “I…agreed with my dad,” he said, struggling for the words.
    Gwen met his gaze with tenderness. She could see these were difficult admissions for him, perhaps even ones he’d shared with very few other people.
    “Like I said, Jocelyn loved to go riding, but our mom would never let her. She was worried the activity might spur an attack.”
    “Did it?” Gwen asked sincerely.
    “Sometimes. But Jocelyn said it was worth it. My dad said, ‘Let the girl do what she wants. It’s her life anyway.’
    “I used to help her tack up her horse. We’d sneak into the barn, and I’d get it all ready. There was so little I could do for her…”
    “I’m sure you didn’t mean her any harm.”
    “Of course not. She was my baby sister.” Dan set his jaw, meeting her gaze. “I loved her like no