Rio (11 page)

In a few minutes, Uncle Trace came back in. “I told Rio you’d drive him. He didn’t seem pleased.”

“He didn’t?” She bristled. “Well, we do seem to clash with each other.”

“Like flint and steel?” Uncle Trace suggested as he walked away.

“More like a dog and a cat!” she yelled after him, but he didn’t turn around. Now what?

She didn’t relish an awkward ten-mile buggy ride with a man who didn’t want her to drive him any more than she wanted to ride next to him, their bodies almost touching.

She thought about it a long moment, then smiled. She would invite a bunch of the children to go along for the ride. She hurried away to the workers’ little houses.

When Rio came out of the bunkhouse, the wagon was waiting. Turquoise sat on the seat, dressed in a leather riding skirt and boots, plus a western hat to shield her fair skin from the sun. He smiled in spite of himself. “
Buenos dias,
Senorita Turquoise.” It would be torture, but sweet torture.

Then five little brown faces popped up out of the back of the wagon. “
Buenos dias,
Senor Rio.”

He must have looked surprised, because the girl smiled in a mocking way. “I hope you don’t mind. The
ninos
and
ninas
wanted to go along for the ride.”

“Of course not.” He shook his head and climbed up on the seat beside her. He loved children, but he wasn’t sure whether he was happy to have them along. It would keep anything questionable from happening in case he weakened and wanted to kiss her again. One look at her stern face told him that was why she had brought the children along.

He reached for the reins.

She shook her head and clucked to the team, starting off with a jingle of harness. “I’m driving.”

“It is generally the man who drives,” he said.

“Not in this case.” She put her pert little nose in the air and pulled out on the dirt road leading to the village.

He didn’t know whether to admire her for her obstinacy or turn her over his knee and then take the reins away from her.

“I feel foolish, having a woman drive me,” he muttered.

“I’ve been raised on a ranch. I drive well.” She laughed and did not give up the reins.

In the back of the wagon, the children were singing a folk tune, not well, but loudly.

It was going to be a long, long trip, he thought and decided he could do nothing but let her drive. Their bodies were almost touching and he seemed to feel the electricity from her warm thigh against his and again, he remembered the kiss. That made his manhood swell and he twisted in his seat, uncomfortable.

“My guardian said you didn’t want me to drive you to the train.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to.”

“I don’t,” she snapped, “but I needed to go to the village on errands, so he demanded I go.”

“Hmm.” He wished the ride were over. He had no chance with this girl and it was torture to sit on this wagon seat, their thighs almost touching. He could smell the faint scent of forget-me-nots on her skin and her hair shone black as ink, pulled back under her western hat. He must break this spell she held over him. When he got back to Austin, the first thing he must do is go to his favorite saloon and make love to one of their voluptuous whores. Or maybe two or three, he thought, changing positions on the seat again. It might take three girls to end this need in him.

They did not speak the rest of the trip as the wagon bumped along. The children sang and laughed in the back, oblivious to the tension on the front seat.

Turquoise had never felt so uncomfortable in her whole life. The ride had seemed the length of Texas and she was angry with her uncle for putting her in this awkward
position, then remembered she had volunteered on impulse. She’d been too aware the whole ride of Rio’s closeness, of the way his thigh touched hers when the wagon hit a rough spot in the old road.

They started down the only street in the small village. She heard the train coming in the distance, its whistle echoing across the hilly terrain.

“The train! The train!” The children jumped up and down with excitement.

Rio looked back over his shoulder and grinned. “Have you little ones never ridden a train before?”

“No, senor,” came a chorus of voices.

He looked into Turquoise’s pale eyes. “Perhaps the senorita will bring you to Austin someday to see the sights.”

“Perhaps I will,” she said and she did not smile and looked away as she reined up before the station hitching post.

The sound of the train chugged closer and the children chortled with excitement. Rio climbed down, then reached up and lifted each little one from the wagon. “Now don’t get on the tracks.”

He turned and looked up at Turquoise. “You will get down, senorita?”

“Why not?” she said and started to step to the ground, but he reached and put his strong hands on her waist and helped her down to the road.

For a moment, he looked down into her face, still holding on to her. He might kiss her, she thought, which would be disgraceful in public. It horrified her to think she wanted him to.
Don’t be a fool,
she scolded herself as she pulled away from him. One man’s kisses must be like another’s and Edwin Forester was the man she intended to hold and kiss her.

“Don’t forget your bags,” she reminded him and strode
across the boards of the platform to where the children were gathered, waiting for the train to chug into the station.

She turned to watch him grab his bags out of the back of the wagon and stride over to the children. “
Hasta la vista,
kids.” He grinned. “Maybe I will see you again.”

“We’ll miss you, senor.” They all chortled, gathering around for a last hug.

“I hope you’ll miss me, too.” He turned to Turquoise.

“Not likely.” She kept her expression and her voice cold. She must not get involved with this man. He could offer her nothing, and yet … no, she reminded herself again, she must not, could not love this vaquero.

The train pulled into the station with a grinding of wheels, the smell of smoke, and a shower of coal dust.

Rio held out his hand to her. “
Vaya con Dios,
senorita.” Go with God.

She did not take his hand. “Good-bye, senor. Have a safe trip home.”

“If you’re ever in Austin—”

She shook her head before he could continue. She did not want this to go any further and yet … she reminded herself again that she had higher ambitions than a small ranch and a bare existence.

“All aboard!” the conductor yelled. Rio stepped aboard as the porter grabbed his bags.

The children set up a chorus of farewells, waving at Rio, but Turquoise forced herself to stand and nod as if she were seeing any employee of the ranch off on a trip.

“Come on, children. The train is leaving now.” She herded them away from the platform but couldn’t stop herself from glancing back.

Rio still stood in the train door, staring after her. He smiled as she looked back and she turned away quickly, annoyed with herself. She told herself she was glad to see him gone as the train blew its whistle, then chugged slowly out
of the little village. They all stood and watched it until it was only a black speck in the distance and a lingering bit of smoke.

“All right, children, now we’ll go to the general store, and I’ll buy each of you a peppermint stick.”

Little Juan turned dark eyes up to her. “Are we going to Austin to see Senor Kelly?”

The others set up a howl. “Let’s go see Senor Kelly!”

Even the children were aligned against her. “I don’t know, I don’t think so, maybe.” She turned and looked one last time as the train disappeared over the horizon. Now she wasn’t certain whether she was happy or sad that he was gone out of this town and out of her life.

She wanted to go to Austin, all right, she decided as the little group walked toward the store, but not to see Rio. She needed an opportunity to see Edwin Forester and give him another chance to court her. She intended to become Mrs. Edwin Forester and to reign as the queen of Austin society.

Rio sat at the train car’s window, his face pressed against the glass for a long time, looking back at Turquoise and the children until he could no longer see them. He knew he could never have the turquoise-eyed beauty, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her, needing her as a man needs a woman. No, more than that. He wanted to keep her with him always, hold her and protect her from anything or anyone who might hurt her, put his seed deep within her and give her his son. Yet she was not his to love and cherish, and would never be.

He slumped back on the scarlet horsehair cushions and tried to think of something else on the trip back to Austin, but she dominated his every thought.

That night after he returned to Austin, he went to the local cantina where he knew all the girls. It was a busy night, with vaqueros drinking
cerveza
and
mezcal,
women dancing and laughing to the guitar music in the background. Rio sighed and ordered a drink, then another. This place used to be amusing; tonight it seemed dirty, dim, and sad.

He spotted a whore he used to like, a beauty with big breasts. “Hey, Margarita, you want a customer?”

“Si.”
She paused and gave him a sultry look. “But for you, Rio, it is free. You know how to give a woman much pleasure.”

His manhood rose at the thought of lying between a woman’s warm thighs. “Then at least let me buy you a drink.” She came over to the bar and leaned against it, humming to the guitar music in the background. “Tequila,” she said to the mustachioed barkeep who wiped the scarred counter with an old rag.

“And another one for me.” When the drinks arrived, Rio held his up. “Here’s to pleasure.” He smiled at her.

“I know you’ll give me that,” she purred, sipping her drink, then leaned against him so that he got a good look at her full breasts in the low-cut blouse.

He was a little drunk now and he inhaled the scent of stale beer and cigar smoke, cheap perfume and tortillas. “What’s new around Austin since I’ve been gone?”

She shrugged and took his hand. “Nothing much. A big fire downtown, a few fights, and a stabbing in our alley, that’s all. Come with me now.”

He let her lead him through a door to a dimly lit hallway and down that hallway to her room. She closed the door and turned to him, smiling as she pulled her blouse off. She wore nothing underneath it and her breasts were large and full. He felt his manhood pulse hard as stone and he thought,
Si, I could take three women tonight, my need is so great.

She began to unbutton his shirt and rubbed her big breasts against his bare chest as she nuzzled there. “I’ll make you forget about any other woman.”

Turquoise. Abruptly her face and big, turquoise eyes came to his mind even as he embraced Margarita. Damn her. Why must the elegant beauty invade his mind? Even though he fought against it, he felt his manhood fading and he pulled away from Margarita.

“What’s the matter, honey?”

“Nothing. I—I changed my mind, that’s all.” He backed away from her, feeling foolish and unable to perform. That was loco, he told himself; he had been pleasuring women since he was fifteen. He had a reputation for satisfying women that was widespread among the senoritas.

She moved toward him, rubbing her big breasts against him. “Come on, Rio, you know I want you.”

But he didn’t want her. With a horrible, sinking feeling, he realized his body was not going to cooperate with his intentions. “No, I must leave now.”

“What?” She clung to him, rubbing against him, kissing his face. “No, you must finish this. Rio, I want you.”

He knew he couldn’t complete the act if he tried. Still a little drunk and angry with himself, he turned and fled the room with her calling after him.

Quickly he left the cantina and rode back to his small ranch. There he put away Peso and sat out on his porch watching the lights of the nearby city and feeling the cool breeze on his face. Damn that arrogant Turquoise. She had spoiled him for any other woman. Margarita would tell the other girls what had happened and there would be whispering that perhaps he had lost his manhood and was no longer capable of pleasuring a woman.

He was capable all right, but the only woman he wanted to lie with was the one he could never have. He sat on the porch a long time, smoking and remembering that one kiss and imagining kissing her all over, her writhing under him and begging him for his caresses as she spread her long legs and he took her in the ultimate embrace. The thought made him sweat and breathe heavily.

Angrily, he ground out his smoke and went into his small house and went to bed, but she would not let him sleep. She was like a fever in his blood and he knew he would never want another woman except the one he could not have.

The next morning, he finally awoke, tired and irritable. He could not spend his life mooning over the uppity girl; he had work to do. He called to his hand and they fed horses and cattle, and then he opened up his blacksmith shop for the day’s business.

Back at the Durango ranch, Turquoise plotted to take the children into Austin. And too, there was a question she had always wanted answered and had never had the nerve to ask. Steeling her courage, she caught Uncle Trace sitting on the veranda one evening two days after Rio had left.

She watched the big fountain out front as she leaned against a pillar. The little brown chihuahua trotted up and jumped into Trace’s lap. “Uncle Trace, I have a question I have wanted to ask a long time.” She played with the lace on her blouse.

He grinned and sipped his tequila. “Ask away.”

How could she ask this and get a straight answer? “I—I have heard whispers about my origins all my life.”

He immediately looked uncomfortable. “Who dares spread idle gossip? I’ll have them fired—”

“No, no. It’s everywhere, even in Austin. They say my papa was not really my father. He was so dark-skinned, as was my mother. Just looking in a mirror, it’s evident I’m not all Mexican. I wonder—”

“I really don’t know much about it.” He avoided her gaze and patted the little dog. “I think you shouldn’t try to open that Pandora’s box.”

“I thought the old Don Diego might have told you something before he died—”

“No.” Trace shook his head. “I had gone out into the hall with the priest when my father died. Maybe he told the priest something in his final moments. I don’t know, but you know the priest would not be willin’ to discuss that.”

“Old Don Diego was Castilian Spanish, wasn’t he? And light-skinned?”

Her guardian frowned at her. “What are you implyin’?”

“So many masters take servant girls into their beds—”

Trace swore aloud. “I can assure you, the old don loved no one but my Cheyenne mother. He would not have stooped to such a low thing.”

She bit her lip, knowing she had handled this badly. “But many Anglos came to the ranch, friends and cattle buyers. Perhaps—?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head, evidently still angry. “And even if I knew, I would not tell you. I say let the dead past stay buried,” Trace said and sipped his drink. “Old Sanchez was a good father to you, wasn’t he?”

She nodded. “The only father I ever knew.”

“Well, then, that should be enough.”

The finality of his tone told her he knew no more or if he did, he would not tell it. There was a long silence as darkness settled over the hacienda and the cicadas began their rhythmic hum. She sighed and decided to change the subject. “Have you heard from your wife and when she will be home?”

His face lit up and she knew he adored his woman. “Probably around the Fourth of July. There’s just too many things to see in Philadelphia. She says some man has invented something called a telephone. It works like a telegraph only you can hear real voices.”

“No!”

Trace nodded. “With the country now almost a hundred years old, there’s no tellin’ what will be invented next. Why, they’re even talkin’ about horseless carriages, maybe run by steam.”

She shook her head. “They can’t replace good horses.”

“That’s what I think, too.”

“Uncle Trace”—she gave him her most winsome smile—
“I’ve been thinking. When I took some of the children to the train, they got all excited. They’ve never been on a train before or even seen the Texas capitol.”

“
Si,
I’m sure that’s true.” He seemed relieved to be off the subject of her origins.

“Don’t you think now that May is almost over, I could take them on a trip and maybe show them around Austin? It would be very educational.”

“I don’t know, Turquoise, I don’t have time to take off right now with all the brandin’ and besides, we just got back from Austin.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to go.” She turned toward him, pleading. “Fern could meet us with her buggy and we might stay with her. Just think how educational it would be and such a treat for the children.”

Trace rubbed his chin. “Well,
si,
I reckon it would be educational.”

“And didn’t I hear that the old don was once a member of the legislature? I could show them the capitol building and tell them about Texas history.”

Trace seemed to consider a long moment while she held her breath. Suppose he figured out she was hoping to meet up with Edwin Forester again?

“Turquoise, you aren’t hopin’ to rendezvous with a man there, are you?”

She felt her heart stop. “I—I don’t know what you mean.”

He laughed and winked at her. “You aren’t a very good liar. Well,
si,
of course you can go and take the children. And by the way, tell Rio I said hello.”

She felt herself flush all the way to her toes. “Rio? Oh, yes, certainly.” She turned and fled before he could ask more questions. So he thought she might be meeting with Rio. Trace Durango had no idea that her target was the high-born senator, an old enemy of his family’s. If she did
become engaged to Edwin, how would she broach it with Uncle Trace? As hot-headed as he was, perhaps she would wait until his wife returned.

Rio. His dark, brooding face came to her mind and she tried to brush it away, but she couldn’t brush away the memory of his kiss. It had started her heart pounding in a way that made her want to cling to him and return that kiss in a most unladylike way. She shook her head, trying to wipe out the touch and scent and feel of the big, muscular male. A poor half-Mexican vaquero did not fit into her plans.

Three days later, she loaded up the five small children and took the train to Austin. She had worried that Juanita would want to go, and then would tattle on Turquoise, but Juanita came down with a bad cold and stayed at the ranch.

Turquoise felt almost guilty as she stepped off the train in Austin with the excited children. She wasn’t good at such underhanded plots.

Her chubby friend Fern was waiting on the platform and ran to hug her. “I’m so glad to see you again. I’m hoping you can stay long enough to help me with my wedding.”

Turquoise laughed and hugged her. “Of course. How’s Silver Slippers?”

“Galloping up and down our biggest pasture and eating grass. She’s a beautiful mare.”

“I can hardly wait to see her,” Turquoise said, “but first help me corral all these
ninos
and
ninas
before they get lost in the station.”

She and Fern herded all the excited, laughing children out to where Fern had a buggy waiting. They helped them in and climbed up in the front. Fern picked up the reins and they were off.

“So, Fern, anything exciting happen while I’ve been gone?”

Fern shrugged. “Not much. Austin in the late spring is rather sleepy. Oh, there was a big fire. You know that La Mode Dress Shoppe? It burned down.”

“Oh? I wish I could say I was sorry, but that Mrs. Whittle caused me a lot of humiliation. Did she get out all right?”

“Just barely. They say it was arson, deliberately set.”

“Oh? Now who would do such a thing? Maybe she did it herself for the insurance.”

They drove around town pointing out the sights to the children: the homes, the river, the capitol.

“Fern, these kids all look tired and hungry. I think we’d better call it a day.”

“Sure, we’ll go back to the ranch. I want you to meet my intended.”

Turquoise laughed. “I think I’ve met him. When’s the wedding?”

“Sometime late in August, but we haven’t set the exact date yet. You are going to be my maid of honor, aren’t you?”

Turquoise was touched. “Why, I’d be honored.”

They drove a moment in silence as the children settled down in the back of the buggy and dropped off to sleep. Turquoise tried to sound casual. “Is the legislature still in session?”

Fern nodded. “For another day or two, I think. They’re arguing over taxes.”

“So what else is new?” Turquoise smiled. She was already making plans. She would take the children to the capitol and hope to run into Senator Forester. Then it would be all up to him.

The road to Fern’s ranch led past the blacksmith shop and Turquoise didn’t know whether to look as they passed, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Rio stood at the open forge pounding out a horseshoe. Sweat ran down his brown, muscular body and the sunlight reflected off the crucifix around his sinewy neck. He looked up and stared at them as they passed, but he made no sign of recognition.

“My word!” Fern giggled after they passed. “I’d call that a hunk of prime beef!”

Turquoise forced herself not to look behind her, but she could feel his gaze penetrating her back as they drove on up the road. “Oh, Fern, you’re awful.”

“Still, that man could almost make me forget about Luke. I wonder what it would be like to be in his arms?”

Turquoise didn’t answer. She closed her eyes, remembering how Rio had jerked her to him, kissing her with passion and heat. She ran her tongue over her lips, tasting his hot mouth again.

“Are you okay, Turquoise?” Fern looked over at her, anxiety on her freckled face.

“What?” Turquoise jerked out of her revelry. “Oh, I’m fine, just tired, that’s all.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence, with Turquoise trying to put Rio out of her mind and think about Senator Forester and all his social position and prestige.