For Honor’s Sake (15 page)

“Why can’t we leave now? Why must you go back to camp? It’s too dangerous.”

“We need horses, dear,” Carl explained patiently. “We are miles from nowhere. I’m certain the men will search for you once they learn of your escape. I’ll arrange to remain behind again. Once they leave I’ll steal two horses, ride out of the valley and come back through the tunnel for you.”

“Tunnel? What tunnel?” Julie peered about but failed to notice in the darkness the tunnel of which her father spoke. “Where does it lead to?”

“The tunnel is located at the far end of the cave,” Carl revealed. “It leads to the other side of the valley not far from where you entered with Pedro.”

“How long must I remain here alone?” Julie asked, shuddering.

“Not long, daughter,” Carl assured her, patting her shoulder comfortingly. “A night, perhaps. I’ll enter through the other side and come for you. Under no circumstances are you to leave your concealment. And whatever you do, don’t attempt to find your own way through the tunnel. There is more than one passage off the main tunnel, you’ll never be able to find the right passage on your own. You must obey me in this, Julie.”

Reluctantly Julie nodded. Now that she had found her father she regretted parting from him even for an instant. “Can … can we talk for awhile before you leave?” she asked in a small voice.

Carl’s gaze softened as he gazed upon his lovely daughter whom he hadn’t seen in nearly three years. She had emerged from childhood and developed into a great beauty, and married, besides. She was no longer the little girl he used to dawdle on his knee. So much had happened since then that he, too, felt the need for talk.

“I can stay fifteen minutes, darling, no longer.”

“Just tell me how you came to be riding with Joaquin Murieta. What happened to bring you to such a pass?”

Carl flushed, undecided where to begin. It was a tale of foolish hopes, broken dreams and disillusionment. A saga of man’s greed and his cruelty to his fellow man.

At length, he said, “I should have never left New York. I wasn’t cut out for the life of a miner. I had my tobacco shop … I had you. But I chose to abandon all I held dear for the promise of riches.”

“I don’t care if you never struck it rich, Papa, I found you and that’s all that matters.”

“But that’s just it, darling. I did strike it rich. I found a vein that was rich beyond my wildest dreams.”

“What happened?” Julie asked, puzzled.

“The man who was working the claim next to mine found out about my strike. He told some of his friends. The day I was going to San Francisco to file my claim, they were waiting for me along the road.”

“How terrible!” gasped Julie.

“Before I realized what was happening they shot me, stole my papers and left me for dead. Later they filed the claim in their own names.”

“Didn’t you go to the authorities?” Julie asked, aghast.

“Not until much later. Joaquin Murieta found me on the trail more dead than alive. Some of the good things they credit to the man must be true for he brought me to his camp and nursed me back to health. When I was able, I went to San Francisco to report my loss, but it was hopeless. There is no law to speak of in California. Possession is nine-tenths of the law and I had nothing to prove my claim.”

“Why didn’t you write to me? Or return to New York?”

“I was too ashamed,” admitted the older man. “I had nothing. My pockets were empty, my claim stolen, my supplies gone.”

“What did you do?”

“The only thing I could. I found Murieta and asked
to join his band of outlaws. I think he took a liking to me for he allowed me to ride with him despite the objection of Pedro and some of the younger men.”

“That explains why you were riding with Murieta that day when Rod and I were on our way to
Rancho
Delgado.”

“Ah, yes, your husband,” acknowledged Carl quietly. “Do you want to tell me how you came to be in California, and married to a Spaniard?”

Julie sighed, painfully aware that it was now her turn to lay bare her soul. She began with Aunt Lavinia’s sudden death and Hugo’s salacious pursuit, progressing to the point where she met Polly.

Carl was sorry to learn of his sister’s death but voiced his contempt for the despicable Hugo. “I never did like that man,” he said angrily. “If I ever return to New York I’ll make him rue the day he laid a hand on you.”

Julie hid a smile behind her hand, finding it difficult to imagine her slender father trading punches with the brawny Hugo, several years younger than himself and pounds heavier.

“So you joined Polly and came to California to find me and found a husband instead,” mused Carl thoughtfully. “It truly surprises me that Don Rodrigo would even consider taking an Anglo wife.”

Immediately Julie launched into the tale that explained fully Rod’s motives for wedding her. “He doesn’t love me, Papa,” she divulged at the end of her story. “His damn Spanish honor forced our marriage. He already had a fiancee. And … and his father hated me. Until just before he died and he made his peace with me. I … I’m convinced Rod hates me, too.”

“No one could hate you, darling,” Carl assured her kindly. “Least of all your husband. I’m sure you are exaggerating. When I saw the two of you together I was certain it was a love match.”

“Why didn’t you reveal yourself then, Papa? If only I
had known who you were then all this could have been avoided.” Julie couldn’t help but feel a certain resentment toward her father for being allowed to ride away with Rod into the hostile atmosphere of
Rancho
Delgado.

“At first I was so shocked to see you in California when I thought you safe in New York that I could neither think nor act. Then I saw how protective Don Rodrigo was of you. He seemed so loving, so caring, that I felt it best to leave you to your new life. You certainly had no need of a failure like me dragging at your heels.”

“Papa, I love you! Besides, you are mistaken. Rod doesn’t care for me in the least. It’s Elena he loves. He proved it by making her his mistress. Our marriage should never have taken place. But for Rod, I wouldn’t be in this predicament,” Julie explained, her face darkening with pain. “He … he wanted to be rid of me. When he joined the cattle drive, he told Elena to make certain I was gone before he returned. He paid Pedro to take me away.”

“Oh, daughter, if I had only known,” said Carl regretfully. “Can you forgive me for allowing my pride to overcome my love for you? I didn’t want you to see me as a bandit, a man wanted by the law.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Papa,” Julie exclaimed. “We’re together again. Rod will think I am dead and he and Elena can marry.”

“I find it hard to believe Don Rodrigo would go so far as to order your death,” Carl said dubiously. “Are you certain of this?”

“I … I don’t know,” admitted Julie thoughtfully. “Elena said as much, but I’m not convinced. She is not above lying to achieve her own way. I thought I knew Rod. He is a proud man, arrogant at times, but murder? Not that I think he would have any difficulty in killing. It’s the method that puzzles me. He is not one to let
someone else, particularly a woman, do is dirty work.”

“Do you love him, daughter?” Carl asked, quick to note the underlying hint of affection in her voice whenever she spoke of her husband.

“Oh, Papa,” Julie wailed, “I can’t help it. I do. I love him still. I died a little inside when … when he bedded Elena. I thought … Oh, well, it doesn’t matter what I thought,” she shrugged, resigned to a life without Rod’s drugging kisses and caresses that sent her blood surging through her veins.

Though Carl wished to talk further with Julie, he could no longer delay his departure. “I must leave, darling,” he said sadly, rising. “But I’ll be back as soon as I am able. There are some bottles of water and jerky strips wrapped in oiled cloth behind you. I put them there when I first discovered this cave. Now I’m glad I had the foresight to do so. Remember, don’t leave for anything. I’ll return for you the moment the men leave the valley.”

“I trust you, Papa,” Julie smiled through a veil of tears. She longed for him to remain, to console her, to talk more of their lives since their separation. “I’ll do as you say.”

Julie watched with trepidation as her father carefully pulled the brush and shrubs back into place before the mouth of the cave until it looked as if it had never been disturbed. It was so dark inside now that Julie felt shut off from the world. But her exhaustion was such that she soon fell into a deep sleep. And then the dreams began.

Rod. Always Rod. Loving her. Hating her. Tender, kind, arrogant, hateful, insufferable. Proud. A man of so many contradictions that she never knew where she stood with him, until he made Elena his mistress and wished to be rid of his wife. And then she became nothing but a hindrance, an unwanted burden. He proved as much when he cruelly forced a response from
her on the night before he left for San Antonio.

But, oh, how she remembered the way he made her flesh sing with desire; how his lips and hands brought her more pleasure than she had ever known in all of her eighteen years. From the very first she knew his love and passion belonged to Elena, not to her, his Anglo wife, unworthy of the Delgado name. But she had her dreams.

12

Carl picked his way cautiously down the hillside, glancing nervously at the lengthening shadows which provided welcome cover for his stealthy passage. He realized from the position of the setting sun that the men were probably up and about after their
siesta
and no doubt looking for Pedro. Carl willed himself to think of anything but what would happen to Julie if she was discovered. Whatever happened he must not allow her to fall into the clutches of the desperados whom he knew would not hesitate to rape her. Not even if it meant he had to … to … but no, he must not dwell on the alternative to capture. He was determined to bring Julie to safety no matter what the cost to him.

Carl knew that if Murieta were here things would be vastly different. In his own way, Murieta was a gentleman, despite the fact he was dedicated to a life of crime. Somehow, Carl did not believe that Murieta would be persuaded into a nefarious scheme to harm Julie as easily as Pedro had been.

Carl eased himself around the corner of a cabin, his hands busy at the opening of his trousers, as if he were just returning from relieving himself. So far, so good, he breathed gratefully. But his optimism was short lived.

“
Hola,
Carlos! Where have you been?” The speaker was a scruffy young man with deceptively mild looks who called himself Paco.

“Answering nature,” grinned Carl foolishly as he gestured rudely to his trousers front.

“Have you seen Pedro?” queried Paco, eyeing Carl suspiciously.

“No, Paco, I’ve been taking a
siesta.
I awoke only moments ago when I felt the need to relieve myself. Pedro is probably still with the girl.”

Paco laughed nastily, making an obscene gesture with his hands. “Pedro always was greedy. I say it’s time he shared. If there is anything left to share, that is. Come, Carlos, perhaps we will be the first after Pedro to sample the blond
puta.
I am growing hard just thinking about climbing between those white thighs.”

“You go on,” Carl urged, stifling the pressure to kill the foul tongued
bandito
for his disaparaging remarks about Julie. “I’m much older than you, and not so hot blooded as I was in my youth.”

“All the more reason to get to the girl while she still is reasonably fresh. Even old men need a taste of woman’s flesh once in a while. To prove my good will you may go first,” offered Paco expansively.

There was nothing more Carl could do or say as Paco pulled the older man along with him toward Pedro’s cabin. Carl hoped he was a good enough actor to convince Paco when Pedro’s body was discovered.

As luck would have it, Carl’s ability to act was never put to the test. Just as they reached the cabin Pedro had taken Julie to, a man brust through the open doorway, shouting and gesturing wildly.

“
Por Dios,
he’s dead! Pedro is dead!”

“How can this be?” Paco asked, obviously stunned. “Who did it, Jose?”

“The girl!” accused Jose knowingly. “She is gone! Through some devious trick she managed to kill
el jefe
and escape. She is truly a
bruja
!”

“Bah!” jeered Paco derisively. “Impossible! Pedro would never allow himself to be bested by a mere
woman. Come, let us look at the body. Perhaps we will find our answer.”

Carl could feel his composure slipping away as he accompanied the two men inside Pedro’s cabin. The odor of death was in the air and he paled visibly when he came face-to-face with his handiwork. Though Carl rode with Murieta, it was the first time he had actually killed a man. Cautiously he approached the stiffening body, pretending an outrage he did not feel.

What he saw caused beads of perspiration to break out on his forehead as panic seized him. Pedro lay face down on the dirty floor, his right hand stretched forward. At the tip of one finger, etched in dried blood, were the letters C-A-R-L-O-S. Pedro had lived long enough to take his revenge. He had named his killer.

“
Perdicion
!” exclaimed Paco, eyeing Carl malevolently. “Carlos! You killed Pedro and let the girl go! You
gringo bastardo
! Seize him!”

By that time the small room was crowded with men who had been alerted by Jose’s loud cries, and Carl found himself being seized and roughly manhandled by more hands than he could count. Carl quailed, his worst fears had been realized. Once again he had proved himself a failure.

“Why,
gringo
?” asked Paco once Carl was rendered immoble by his captors. “Did you want the woman so badly that you killed for her? Or did you seek only to aid one of your own kind? What did you do with her,
gringo
? Where is the girl?”

“Safe!” Carl choked out. “Where you’re not likely to find her!” No matter how badly Carl had failed his beloved daughter, nothing Paco and the others could do to him would force him to reveal Julie’s hiding place. Better she should die alone in a cave than be brutally and repeatedly raped to death. If only he could be certain Julie wouldn’t venture out of her concealment when he failed to return for her.

A vicious blow to his midsection brought Carl’s attention sharply back to his own desperate situation as the pain caused him to gag and retch violently.

“Talk,
bastardo,
or you’ll be sorry you were ever born,” Paco threatened ominously. “You have ridden with us often enough to know what a vengeful lot we are.” As if to accentuate his words, Paco’s massive fists beat a painful tattoo upon Carl’s unprotected face.

“Julie is my daughter,” gasped out the battered man, “but that’s all you’ll get from me.” His mouth was set in a slash of grim determination.

“
Caramba
!” cursed Paco, consumed with anger.

“Kill him, Paco,” Jose urged, his sentiments echoed by his
compadres.

“Not before he talks,” Paco replied. “Take him outside. The rest of you, bury Pedro.” No one made a move to challenge Paco’s usurped authority in the absence of a leader as the bandits carried out his orders with alacrity.

Carl knew he was a dead man; his only regret was that he was unable to return to Julie and lead her to safety. His own usefulness had ended long ago, and he did not mourn his own death. Already he was dazed and badly hurt. How much more could he take, he reflected absently, as he was dragged to an open area and staked spreadeagled to the ground. During the next hours Carl was to learn the full extent of his tenuous hold on life under more pain than he had ever known.

Paco and Jose took turns torturing Carl, using wicked looking black whips and sharp knives to torment his flesh. Many times (he lost count) he escaped into oblivion, only to be revived to begin anew the merciless torture of his lacerated body, until he wished fervently for death, begged for it.

And through it all came the cruel voice of Paco, demanding, “Where is the girl,
gringo
? The girl, tell us.”

“Bah, he won’t talk,” decided Jose, beginning to tire of the sport. “I haven’t had my supper yet and I’m tired. I say we leave him here all night. If he lives, we can take up where we left off
mañana
.”

A murmur of assent rippled through the ill assorted group of men, easily persuading Paco of the wisdom of Jose’s words. “You may be right,
amigo,
” he agreed, disgusted with Carl’s stubbornness. “
Mañana
.”

Immediately the men went off to cook their supper over the communal campfire where later they would gather to spin their yarns of dastardly deeds and villainous acts. For the moment, the man they knew as Carlos was all but forgotten.

Julie spent her first night in her secret cave sleeping little. The cold seemed to penetrate through her skin into her bones. Though her father had thought to provide food and water, no other comforts, such as blankets, could be found though she scrabbled around in the dark looking for something with which to cover herself. Ill clad in the tatters of her torn dress, it offered little protection against the dampness of the cave.

The next morning Julie awoke early, drank some water, ate a strip of jerky, and waited patiently for her father’s return. Never once did she consider the possibility that he would not return for her.

When the sun arose Carl Darcy was still alive, barely. Instinctively, Paco knew that it would do little good to torture the man further. He seemed beyond understanding or speech, more dead than alive. With a fatalistic shrug of his broad shoulders, Paco decided to lead the men out of the valley to search for the girl. After all, how far could one defenseless woman on foot go without food, water, or a horse? They would still have their sport, Paco vowed, once he and the men ran her down, unless she was already the victim of wild animals.

Within the hour, Murieta’s camp lay deserted in the
sun dappled valley, except for one lone man staked out in the dirt awaiting an ignominous death. When a search of the immediate area failed to uncover a clue to their elusive prey, the
banditos,
led by Paco, rode out of their secluded hideaway to scour the surrounding Santa Lucia Mountains.

By mid-afternoon, Julie grew frantic with worry when her father failed to materalize. She knew Murieta’s men were searching for her because she heard them pass by her concealment many times, holding her breath lest they discover the opening to the cave. But at the moment it was her father’s safety that concerned her, not her own well being. In her mind’s eye she could now visualize all sorts of horrible things that could have happened to him.

Crouching close to the opening Julie heard nothing but the sounds of silence. It had been like that for over an hour. Not even an occasional shout from the camp below could be heard. Her imagination ran rampant. Have the men left the valley as her father predicted, she wondered? If so, why hadn’t he come for her? Was he injured? Or worse yet, dead.

Tentatively, Julie poked aside a small portion of the mesquite shielding her hiding place, remembering her father’s words of warning but unwilling to remain in a safe haven when he might need her. Acting on impulse, Julie began vigorously attacking the thick shrubs and brush holding her captive within the cave. Working from the inside was much more difficult than Julie would have imagined and within minutes her hands were raw and bleeding, her nails torn. But she would not give up. By the time she tumbled through the narrow opening she had painstakingly cleared for herself, every inch of visible skin was scratched and bruised by brambles and thorns.

Carelessly shrugging aside her minor injuries, Julie looked cautiously about to get her bearings. Once she
satisfied herself that no one was about, she started downhill in the direction of Murieta’s camp. It didn’t take long for her to reach the edge of the forest where only yesterday she and her father had stopped to catch their breath. She stared intently at the group of innocuous looking huts resting against the side of the hill. Nothing stirred. Glancing toward the corral Julie noticed that nearly all the horses were gone, and she exulted. For the time being she was safe, she supposed, and was on the verge of leaving the protection of the trees when she recalled her father’s words cautioning her to beware of guards left behind to protect the camp when the others rode out. Was there another man besides her father down there now, she wondered cautiously? Suddenly the threat to herself mattered little. Nothing mattered but her father. What had happened to him to prevent his coming for her in the cave?

Careless of her own safety, Julie boldly entered the open meadow to traverse the last one-hundred yards into the heart of the camp. An ominous silence greeted her ears as she rounded the cabin where she had been held captive the day before. She breathed a ragged sigh of relief. “So far, so good,” she muttered beneath her breath. But sadly, her optimism was short lived.

Not twenty-feet in front of her a corpse lay stretched out on the ground, his sun blackened face swollen grotesquely and his slight body cruelly torn and lacerated. The screaming seemed to go on forever and Julie wished it would stop, until she realized the inhuman sounds were coming from her own mouth.

“Papa!” she cried, rushing to her father’s side. “Oh, Papa, what have they done to you?” Sobbing hysterically, Julie knelt down and laid her head on the still chest. Astonishment crossed her sad features when she realized a faint thread of life still clung to the inert body. Even to Julie’s untrained ear the shallow
breathing could be detected, and then she noted the erratic rise and fall of his chest.

“You’re alive!” she screeched joyfully. “Oh Papa, Papa, don’t die! Don’t leave me!”

Julie’s brain bolted when she realized that the bandits were gone, leaving her father to die in a horrible manner. Bolstered by the thought that at least he was still alive and she was here to help him, Julie drew his knife from his waistband and slit his bonds. Then she went in search of water. Without too much difficulty she located a lazy stream meandering along the perimeter of the camp, filled a bucket she found nearby, and hurried back to her father’s side. She spent the next half-hour cleaning his face and numerous wounds as best she could with a torn-off piece of her chemise. Only then did she kneel to pray, harder than she ever prayed in her life.

The next problem Julie faced was obtaining shelter. She could not leave her father outside to the mercy of wild animals or the elements. But neither was she strong enough to carry him inside one of the cabins. She could drag him but was afraid of aggravating any one of his grievous injuries. She sat down to ponder her dilemma when Carl roused himself enough to ask for water. Julie hastened to help him drink and though his glazed eyes were focused on her, he seemed not to know her. That fact nearly defeated her.

In the end, Julie was forced to do nothing more than sit beside her father all day and all night, making him as comfortable as possible. It was obvious she could not move him until he recovered somewhat and was able to help her. She dared not dwell on the consequences should the
banditos
reappear before she was able to get her father to safety.

Though Julie’s firm resolve to remain awake all night in order to protect her father was made in earnest, her stamina gave out long before midnight and she fell soundly asleep curled up into a tight ball beside Carl’s
limp form. At least she had the foresight to scrounge around in the cabins for blankets so they would not suffer from cold.