Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance) (35 page)

 Halle jerked, startled to see a man standing in the doorway, hand
on hip.
No, his hand on the butt of a gun
. She opened her mouth to
speak, to warn Antonio but he’d already seen him. Antonio turned as a single
shot rang out.

Elena screamed. “No, Franklin! This is not what we agreed! Do not kill
him!”

Antonio doubled over slightly, clutching his shoulder. Bright blood
seeped through his fingers. Antonio shoved Halle to the floor and she watched
as he lifted his gun and pointed it at the man. Elena was swift. Reaching
beneath her gown, she produced a stiletto and hurled the open blade, striking
the mysterious man in the upper arm. Although semi-disabled, he snapped off a
shot, striking Elena in the center of her chest. She staggered backward two steps,
her eyes wide with horror as a crimson stain blossomed on the front of her
peignoir. Clutching at her bosom, mouth open, she sank to her knees.

The man then turned the gun toward Antonio. “Dead or alive the reward
poster says.” He clicked the hammer and fired.

 Antonio ducked and raised his pistol. Firing twice, he sent the
man sprawling backward on the floor. The acrid smell of gun powder and white
smoke filled the room. Halle could barely hear above the loud ringing in her
ears. Elena now lay face down on the floor in a growing pool of blood. The dark
haired assailant was across the room, slumped against a blood splattered wall.

Halle got to her feet, watched as blood gushed from the wound in
Antonio’s arm.

“Oh, God. You’ve been shot!” Out of the corner of her eye, she detected
movement. She turned in time to catch the man lifting his gun again. He was
alive!  “Antonio!”

She launched herself at Antonio to shove him out of the way, not hearing
the gunshot until she felt hot searing pain rip through her upper back.

Antonio caught her in one arm. “Halle, no! Oh, God, no!”

She looked into his eyes, his beautiful gray eyes, as he clutched her.
Tears blurred her vision. “Don’t be angry with me. I only wanted—”

But he turned his face and raised his pistol. A single, deafening shot
rang out, and the gun clattered to the floor

Antonio pulled her against him, stroked her hair. “I’m not angry. I’m
not. Stay with me, Halle.”

She was sorry she’d taken the children without permission and tricked
him into following her back to Albuquerque. If only she’d remained in The
People’s camp, none of this would have happened. “I love you,” she whispered.

He clutched her tighter, “I love you, too.”

She’d waited her whole life to hear someone say those three simple
words—and now it was over. “I’m going to die.”

“No! You will not die!”

Stella appeared at her side.

I’m here, baby girl.

“Stella. You came back.”

It’s time to leave, Halle.

“Leave? But the children need me. Antonio needs me.”

It’s all right, sugar. It’s supposed to end this way.

Stella’s warm arm slipped around her shoulder and she began to glow.
Come with me and I’ll explain everything.

But Halle’s world went black. And silent.

* * * * *

 Antonio carried Halle to the bed, aware of the severity of his own
injuries but not caring. Halle couldn’t die! Within moments the room filled
with people—Molly, Maeve, Rosa, Pedro and Ben, followed by Tani
,
Lukachukai
and Diego. Several of the other ladies also gathered at the door.

“I need my surgical tools.” Antonio ripped open the back of Halle’s
blood saturated dress. “They are in my saddle bag.”

He quickly inspected her, his heart lurching in his chest.
No
exit wound. Ripping a strip of cloth from his shirt, he turned her onto her
side and daubed the fabric at the point of entry. Blood gushed from the hole,
making it difficult to see. “Molly, bring clean cloths and press them to the
wound. Hold firm and don’t release until I tell you. Ben—somebody—hurry and get
my bag.” He prayed silently the bullet hadn’t struck an artery.

Molly moved to his side pressed a towel to the hole in Halle’s back. The
cloth quickly soaked up blood. Tani grabbed another and handed it to her.

“Don’t worry about a new one. Just apply slightly more pressure,” he instructed
the two women.  Ben returned in record time. Antonio opened the case and
gathered a few surgical instruments.

“She…can’t…die.” Molly sobbed the words. “You gotta save her!”

“Maeve, bring a pitcher and a basin,” he called out. “Rosa, rip bandages
from clean towels and bring fresh water.”

It had been years since he removed a bullet. He only hoped it hadn’t hit
bone and splintered fragments into internal organs or tissue. He was not well
equipped, nor surgically trained. Right now she appeared to have minor
difficulty breathing. His body shuddered involuntarily at the thought the slug
might have pierced her lung—or worse. “She needs a real
doctor. I am not
a surgeon.”

“Too bad.  You’re the only doctor we got right now.” Molly reached
beneath her skirt and produced a small razor sharp knife. “Use this to cut her
clothes away.”

Antonio sliced away the remaining fabric of Halle’s dress and  the
chemise beneath.

Throwing off one blood soaked rag, Molly grabbed another towel and once
again applied pressure while Antonio rolled up his sleeves and selected his
surgical instruments. Rosa brought a pan of hot water from the kitchen and he
dipped his hands.

Trembling, Antonio handed the probe and a few other tools to Tani.
“Rinse and dry these.”

Molly lifted the cloth and his stomach churned as he examined the wound
once more. He prayed the bullet hadn’t embedded deeply, or worse, the slug
lodged in one of her vital organs. He fought the wave of dizziness that
threatened to engulf him, remembering that he too was losing blood fast. Then
Ben was behind him, steadying him with large, warm hands.

“Whitehorse has been shot up pretty bad, too, Molly.” Ben pressed a
cloth to his wounded shoulder. “I sent the messenger boy for another doctor,
but it could be a while before he gets here. Word is he’s tending to a sick
child about eight miles out.”

Molly made a face. “Damn it, Whitehorse. You gotta stay conscious.
You’re the only one around with any doctorin’ know-how.”

In pain, and growing weaker, Antonio fought to keep his eyes open, his
hand steady. Then he heard a woman’s voice and turned.

 “Hello Antonio.”

It was as if the room fell away and the only people in that moment were
he, Halle and a mysterious gray-haired mulatto woman

“Who are you?”

“I’m Halle’s great great grandmother, Stella.”

He blinked hard, shook his head. “I am imagining things.”

“You’re not imagining anything, son. I know Halle’s told you about me.
But she only knows me as her Guide—not as her grandmother.  I’ve come to
assist you.” She glanced at Halle. “It appears I arrived just in time. Poor
baby. She took that bullet to save your life.”

Blinking hard, he shook off the hallucination. The room came back into
focus.

Molly stared. “Do it.” She nodded to the tray holding the probe.

Weakly, he lifted the instrument. “Who is the woman to my left?” he
asked.

 Molly blinked. “You seein’ things now?”

“There is a woman sitting beside me.”

Tani shrugged. “I do not see anyone.”

 Molly shook her head. “There ain’t anyone nearby except for me and
Ben.”

 A chill shook him as he turned to face the woman again. “I can see
you. You’re real.”

“Yes, I’m very real,” Stella assured him, “And I’m here to help you. I
told Halle I would never abandon her, and I won’t abandon you either.”

The woman laid her hand atop his. Antonio’s and fingertips began to
tingle, then to burn as if hot lead were pulsing through them. He gritted his
teeth in pain and tried to draw back his hand, but it wouldn’t move. What had
she done to his hand?  His vision blurred and he struggled to fight the
swell of darkness that threatened to overtake him. He could not continue, not
when he was weak and close to collapse.

Then, the woman removed her hand and the tingling and burning ceased.
“You take care of my grand daughter you hear?” She gave a curt nod. “She’s
special to me. You both are. I just know you two are going to accomplish great
things together.” The woman vanished.

He expected she might reappear, but soon realized he was on his own. The
snap of Molly’s fingers brought him back into the moment. She removed the blood
soaked towel and Tani hustled it away. The wound continued to pulse blood.
Antonio’s gaze narrowed in on the hole.

“Blot,” he instructed. Molly did as he asked. “Now lift the cloth.”

He inserted the probe, his heart leaping in his chest when it hit the
bullet. Thank God. It wasn’t as deep as he’d thought, perhaps only half an
inch. He withdrew the probe, wiped the white tipped end on a clean cloth,
finding no gunpowder residue or shards of bone. A good sign.

Easing the bullet out bit by bit, Molly sopped up the blood on cue.
Using the forceps, he worked the end of the slug out and dropped it into a
waiting bowl with a clunk. Weak from loss of blood, the instrument slid from
his hand and clattered across the floor.

Woozy, the room spinning, he stared at Molly, then at the crowd that had
gathered around them. Faces blurred together. Someone handed him a needle with
surgical thread. Tani? Heat suffocated him but he worked to close Halle’s wound
even as pain clawed at his insides and darkness shadowed his senses.

He was at the clear pool of water again with Halle. He slipped into
the refreshing water with her, his arms going around her, drawing her close.
Tilting her face up to his, he lowered his lips to hers.

“I’ve searched for you so long,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Don’t leave me.”

“I’ll never leave you.”

Molly smacked his cheek, jerking him from his daydream. “Stay with me,
Whitehorse. You’re almost finished.”

Swallowing the hard, aching knot in his throat, he drew in a deep,
steadying breath. He had to keep his wits about him and fight the encroaching
darkness.

If Halle died because of his lack of surgical knowledge...

No, that would not happen! The bullet was out and the flow of blood had
slowed. He prayed silently that the child growing inside her womb survived the
trauma.

He finished suturing, then slumped against the bed post for support.
Glancing down, he noted his shirt saturated with blood. His or hers? He wasn’t
certain. He closed his eyes as darkness threatened.  

“Halle needs to be bathed and covered with a warm blanket,” he
instructed Molly. “And Tani?

The girl hurried to his side. “Yes.”

“If fever comes, find willow bark. Make a strong tea for her and change her
dressing every day to avoid infection.”

“I will.”

The room began to spin. Ben’s strong arms lifted him onto the bed.
Several other faceless people gathered around. Leaning over him, Molly ripped
open his shirt. He lifted a weak arm in protest. “Sorry, Molly, but I am
already spoken for.” He chuckled at his poor attempt at humor.

Molly made a sour face. “Stay awake, you hear? I need you to talk me
through this.”

He stared at her through the sting of perspiration, realization slowly
sinking in. “You are not going to remove the bullet.”

“Got a better plan?”

He didn’t.

“All right Whitehorse. Tell me what to do first.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Four Years
Later, Early Spring 1867

Rancho de
los Santos, Southern California

Antonio gazed out over the Santa Maria River below as he waited for the
day’s festivities to begin. The tan, light woolen suit he’d donned was hot and
itchy, despite the cool spring temperatures in the valley.

He found it difficult to believe four and a half years had passed since
they’d fled Albuquerque, mere days before soldiers stormed the city, turning up
every watering trough and outhouse in their search for the mysterious fugitive
they knew only as Whitehorse.

There was still a bounty on his head. Always would be.
Dead or Alive
the
time-weathered, and now nearly unreadable posters still read at one of the
local mercantiles
.
 

In his years following his departure from The Territory, Whitehorse had
become somewhat of a legend among soldiers and children alike. The press had
painted him as a larger than life wild and savage man—a half breed who robbed
from the wealthy and gave the spoils to the poor. There were serial stories
about his daring adventures published in some of the major newspapers back
east. Occasionally on the street he’d spy young boys playing outlaw—one of them
calling the other Whitehorse. He supposed that one day the government would
find him and when they did, he would stand trial and be executed. 
Unfortunately, he knew all too well that he past always had a way of catching
up with a man.

Other than his closest friends and family, he was now known throughout
the valley as Doctor Antonio de los Santos—devoted husband and father, as well
as a respected visionary in the medical field.  

A year following his arrival at Rancho de los Santos, he’d read
newspaper reports that a few starving Navajo headmen—Barboncito, Delgadito,
Armijo and others—surrendered along with their tribesmen. His uncle, Chief
Manuelito, held out until last year. He regretted he had not been able to save
The People
from incarceration at Bosque Redondo, but hoped one day he
might reunite with his aunt and cousin, Sonny.

After petitioning President Abraham Lincoln, and then his successor
President Andrew Johnson following the assassination, there was now talk of the
government releasing the Navajo to a reservation on a portion of their former
lands. But that dream was months, if not a year or more away. Still, he would
continue to write letters, imploring the President to reconsider. He would
never give up his quest for The People’s freedom.

The sound of Tani’s footfalls behind him plucked him from his deep,
disturbing concerns.

“People are arriving!” she cried.

He turned in time to catch Diego and his son, Lukachukai also coming
toward him, disgust etched on thirteen year old Lukachukai’s face. Although
Lukachukai had dressed in a suit jacket, shirt and tie, he hadn’t changed from
his buckskin breeches. Their matching gray suit jackets and crisp, starched
white shirts were undoubtedly as uncomfortable as his. Lukachukai’s face was
freshly-scrubbed, his long dark hair slicked back with hair dressing and tied
neatly.

Some parts of their heritage had remained unchanged, despite the drastic
cultural upheaval of recent years. The unmistakable scent of bayberry shaving
soap wafted on the breeze. To his astonishment, he realized Lukachukai had
shaved.

Antonio cleared his throat. “
Shiye
.” He rubbed a hand over his
chin and jaw. “What is this about?”

“I let him use my razor,” eighteen year-old Diego answered.

 Tani was right behind the young men, a stunning sight in the
yellow gown Halle had sewn from imported silk. At twenty, his cousin had grown
into a beautiful young woman. Today, her long jet hair was upswept and adorned
with velvet ribbons to match her dress.

Lukachukai
,
he noted, also wore the life like, semi-functioning
prosthetic hand he and Halle fashioned from wood, leather and sinew. More than
two years in the making and hundreds of drawing’s and archetypes later, she’d
helped him craft a realistic looking limb for the boy.

“When this is over I am changing.” Lukachukai plucked at his black bow
tie.

“Not until after the party.” Tani straightened it. “People are coming
from all over to see the new hospital—even a lady doctor from the place called
New York.”

“But I look nice in my other clothes. These are stupid ones, tight and
hot and itchy.”

Tani pinched his cheek and he jerked his face away. “Oooh, you look so
handsome, Lukachukai. Just like a man. I think a pretty girl might ask you to
dance tonight.”

A shy Lukachukai pulled a face. “I will not dance with a girl.” He
implored his father with his eyes. “
Shizhee
, tell me I do not have to
dance with girls.”

“Only if you wish, son.”

“I do
not
wish. I have seen the girls who are here. They move in
packs, yipping like coyotes.
Yip-yip-yip-yip-yip
.”

Diego laughed and slapped Lukachukai on the back. ”Well I, too, have
seen the girls who have arrived and I intend to dance with every one of them
before the night is through.”

Antonio chuckled, then started back toward the villa. “Come along,
everyone. Let us greet our guests in grand De los Santos fashion.”

They were met on the rear lawn by Molly and Maeve, who’d hauled platters
of juicy, fire roasted meats and bowls of fresh, sliced fruits to gaily
festooned tables set with bright linen cloths and fresh cut flowers from the
hot house. Ben assisted too, tending the slabs of thick beef and pork ribs and
sizzling link sausages set on the grills since the evening before. Max stood
sentry by a smoking pit as if anticipating tasty casualties in the way of a
felled tidbit.

Halle, dressed in a pale green gown that flowed like a mist about her,
burst down the flagstone walkway with six-month old twins Lily and Lucy and on
either hip. Two and three year old toddlers, Kate and Jesse, ran behind their
mother, clutching at her skirts as they tried to keep up.

She thrust the squirming infants at Tani and Diego. “Please take the
children into the house to Rosa while Antonio and I greet arriving guests. Dr.
Gruever and his wife have arrived from Boston.” She turned to Antonio, fussed
with his bow tie and straightened the collar on his suit. “I spoke to them
briefly. They seem like very nice people. They even brought the children
gifts—ponies! Can you believe it?”

Antonio tugged at his shirt collar. “I feel as though I have a noose
around my neck.”

“I don’t know who is more nervous about today, you or me?”

“I’d say it’s both of you.”

They both turned to see Stella, smiling. “Now, don’t worry about a
thing, you two. It’s going to be a great day. Get on out there and enjoy the
party. You’ve worked long and hard on this project and today is your day to
celebrate.”

Stella vanished. 

Antonio shook his head. “Your grandmother is aware that I don’t
appreciate her dropping by unexpectedly.”

Halle patted his cheek affectionately. “Well I think it’s rather
comforting to know she’s always watching over us and the children. But that
reminds me, I need to talk to you about something important.” She took his
hands in hers.” I think you’re going to be so excited, almost as much as when I
told you I was expecting Lucy and Lily.”

His heart dipped. “You’re not pregnant again? It’s only been six months
since the girls were born. We’ve been careful.”

She released him gave him a playful punch in the arm. “No silly. I’m not
pregnant. If I were, it would be your gonads roasting on the pit right now
instead of Mr. Pig’s. This is about Tani. I think a young man is going to ask
us if they can get married.”

Antonio’s face darkened. “Tani is still a child. She cannot marry. She’s
still in school and will be for a few more years if I have any say in the
matter.”

“She’s twenty—almost twenty one, Antonio, and a grown woman with needs.”

“All she
needs
is a proper education, which she will obtain
before marrying.”

“What if I said he’s interested in training under you?”

Antonio hesitated, then looped his arm for her to take it. “Tell me more
as we walk.”

She told him all about the young man Tani met at a party a year ago on a
neighboring ranch, but he wasn’t listening to most of her ramblings. Instead,
his attention focused on the milling crowd gathered on the front lawn of the
new buildings. There must have been a hundred people already!

Cheers and clapping erupted as they came into view of the guests and
Antonio pulled Halle closer to his side. He recognized a few of the physicians
they’d met last year while touring the country with their new line of
prosthetics—semi-functional and life-like looking hands, moveable legs, and bendable
feet. He even picked out some of the patients who’d been treated at the new
hospital on the grounds at Rancho de los Santos, nodding to a young man who’d
lost a leg in The War and another who’d lost an arm. Both appeared to be doing
exceptionally well.

“Speech, speech, speech,” the crowd chanted as they approached the newly
erected stage.

Taking Halle’s hand in his, they scaled the five steps and faced the
crowd in front of the podium decorated with bright red and blue ribbons. The
chanting, whistling and clapping slowly ceased.

“Thank you for coming today,” Antonio called out. “It is good to see so
many familiar faces as well as new ones. Many of you have traveled a long way
and we appreciate your support and your interest in our new hospital. Today is
truly a special day for everyone here, a new beginning.” He glanced over at
Halle, who was positively radiant, her jet hair pinned up in curls, her
expressive brown eyes filled with love.

“This hospital and recovery center at Rancho de los Santos is proud to
unveil the new prosthetics line, which would not be possible today without the
foresight, creativity, and dedication of my right-hand woman, my beautiful
wife, Halle Brooks de los Santos.”

More cheers, whistles and applause erupted. As he gazed at Halle, his
heart swelled with love as he thought of the hardships they’d endured to reach
this point in time. Loved ones they’d been forced to leave behind…the memory of
his baby daughter, Mariposa.

All were with him today in his heart.

Turning back to the crowd he said, “When my wife and I discussed
building the hospital and recovery home for those who’d lost limbs, we also
decided that no man, woman, or child of any color, religion, or financial
circumstance would be turned away. We wanted the center to be a healing place,
where people could come to find hope for the future and eventually return to
living productive lives again.”

The crowd clapped and cheered again.

Lukachukai stepped up to the podium and presented Antonio with a pair of
shiny new scissors. He handed a bottle of chilled and partially uncorked
champagne to Halle.

“My wife, my family, and I thank you for coming to celebrate the grand
opening of our new hospital. Leaning forward, he poised the scissors, ready to
cut the ribbon. He glanced at Halle and whispered, “On the count of three I’ll
cut the ribbon and you uncork the champagne.”

“Wait, Father! I must get back to Tani and Diego. We will ready the
fireworks.” Lukachukai clattered down the steps.

“Our family is proud to name this hospital and recovery home…Mariposa.”
His throat constricted. “The name...” He paused and drew in a steadying breath.
“The name means butterfly in Spanish, a symbol of miraculous change and
transformation.”

And in memory of my infant daughter.

The crowd clapped.  He felt Halle’s small hand slip into his free
one, her dainty fingers twining with his. Momentarily she gave a gentle squeeze
and she gazed up at him and nodded, giving him the courage to continue.

“Our wish, mine and my lovely wife’s, is that Mariposa Hospital, will
transform lives.” Holding in a breath, he snipped the red and blue ribbon. The
crowd roared, tossing confetti high into the air. The band struck up a lively
tune and folks began dancing on the lawn. Turning, he watched Halle uncork the bottle
of champagne. White foam billowed and spewed from the dark bottle. But on the
horizon, Antonio caught sight of a dark cloud stealthily moving in their
direction.

Shading his eyes against the glare of the afternoon sun, he squinted,
trying to make out what appeared to be a swarm of small birds, or perhaps
locusts. Odd for this time of year.

“Lukachukai, Diego!” he called over his shoulder. “Hold the fireworks.”

Several people in the crowd must have noticed the slow moving swarm too,
for pointing and shouting began. The music ceased and a hush fell over the
group. Halle clutched at his arm.

“Bats?”

“Unlikely at this time of day.”

Lukachukai and Diego charged up the podium steps. “What is it,
shizhee
?
Birds?” Lukachukai asked.

Antonio stared. “I don’t know, son. I cannot recall ever seeing anything
such as this.”

Tani brought baby Lily and Lucy and Rosa arrived with Jesse and Kate at
her side. Within moments the clear blue sky above grew thick and dark, obscured
by a fluttering, whirring blanket of black and orange.

Butterflies. Thousands of butterflies!

The children cheered, but the crowd, subdued and awed, murmured in
hushed tones amongst each other.  

They were in the path of the Monarch butterfly’s northward
migration. 

As Halle leaned into him, Antonio slipped his arm around her shoulder.
 “A sign,” he muttered, absently.

“From Mariposa,” she added.  

He blinked hard, fighting back tears as he hugged Halle close, the woman
he loved more than life itself. The one who’d believed him during his darkest
days, even when he had lost faith in himself.