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Authors: Rosemary Rogers

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BOOK: The Wildest Heart
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I had my hand on the door to our room when Flo came running down the passage in her robe, hair flying loose. She was panting; her eyes were large with shock and fear, shining with an unnatural brilliance.

“Is he dead? Tell me! Is Pa dead?”

I looked at her, and the terrible suspicion that had suddenly flashed into my mind became so intense that I was speechless. I pushed open the door and walked into the room, leaving her to follow me.

“He
is
dead then! I know it!”

I found myself staring at her, and I know that my eyes must have looked like stones in my cold, dead face.

“Where is he?”

She had stared towards me, but now she stopped as if struck.

“Have you gone crazy?” she whispered at last. “I don't know what you're talking about, I tell you I asked you about Pa.”

“Your stepfather is very badly wounded, but he's still alive.” I could hardly bear to look at her with her tangled blonde hair hanging loosely about her shoulders, full red lips half-open; lush curves of her body showing whitely through the thin silk of her wrapper.

“Do you make a habit of running down hotel corridors half-naked?”

She made an instinctive gesture of clutching the folds of silk together under her breasts, still staring at me.

“I had been sleeping!” she cried defensively. “And then I heard the shot and I ran! It was so close, so loud. I was afraid! I tell you, I knew something terrible had happened!”

“But you didn't run outside,” I said with cold, pitiless logic. “You ran in the other direction, didn't you? If you had run towards the front of the building I would have seen you earlier. And it's been a good twenty minutes between the time of the shooting and
now
.”

“What are you trying to say? Why are you questioning me this way? Do you think I did it? Oh God! That's almost funny! That's…”

“Be quiet!”

Something in my voice must have warned her, for her mouth dropped open.

“How did you know your stepfather had been shot at? You said you were sleeping, and then you ran. How far did you run?”

“I'm not on trial!” Angry spots of color flared in her cheeks.

“You might well be, if you don't come up with a more likely story. If you persist in protecting a criminal that makes you just as guilty as he is!”

“No! You've gone mad, that's what it is! You saw Pa shot and you've gone insane!”

She had flung her head back defiantly, but when I took a step towards her she shrank away.

“Don't come near me! How dare you talk to me this way?”

“How did you know that Todd had been shot at? I'm warning you, if you won't answer me, I'll fetch the marshal here and you can answer
his
questions.”

“You'd do it too, wouldn't you? You've always hated me!” Catching the look in my eye she bit her lip, and spoke quietly.

“I ran to the window first. Isn't that the natural thing to do? When I saw—well, how can you blame me for being so upset? I grabbed my robe off the chair, and then I thought I heard footsteps, running! I was so afraid! So I grabbed up my robe and ran outside.”

“Where to?”

“Why do I have to tell you? You aren't…”

“Go on,” I pursued inexorably, and she dropped her head sulkily, bare toes tracing a pattern on the carpet.

“How can I remember? I was hysterical by then. I remember screaming, and then I was just running! Away from that horrible sight, I guess. Upstairs. To Mark's room, and I pounded at the door and screamed for him to come out until—until I remembered that I thought I saw him out there too. And afterwards, oh I just can't remember! I think I sat on the floor, all huddled up, and I cried.” Her hate-filled look said to me, “Just try and prove anything different!”

“What clever lies you can dream up on the spur of the moment!” I murmured viciously, unable to help myself. Because she was lying, of course. I would have sensed it, even if I hadn't seen it on her face.

“Why don't you admit you don't
want
to believe me? You'd like to get me out of the way, wouldn't you? So you and Pa…”

“Do you really imagine I'd need to get you out of the way, as you put it, in order to do anything I please?”

Sick at her, and sick at myself for my lack of control I turned away and saw the bed with its rumpled damp sheets; covers kicked off onto the floor, pillows pushed to one side.

I walked towards it slowly, as if drawn by a magnet

Behind me, Flo's voice rose hysterically. “Well? What's wrong now? I was sleeping. I already told you that!”

God, but she sounded guilty!

The animal scent of their mating rose from the bed to assault my nostrils as I walked closer, bringing back ugly memories.

“Then tell me this. Did he fire that shot before or after? Did you watch him aim the rifle and squeeze the trigger?”

She put her hand up against her mouth, her eyes going from me to the bed and back.

“I—I don't…”

“Where did he go?”

“There you go again! Attacking me! Flinging accusations…”

I was suddenly so tired, so sick to my stomach that I had to sit down. Not on the bed. Like animals… the thought went round and round in my brain. No wonder she didn't want to go out with me this morning. She knew where he was and she knew he'd come, as soon as I was out of the way.

I sank down onto the small, plush-covered chair in front of the dressing table and rested my chin on my hand.

Thinking she had won some kind of victory, Flo's eyes began to glow with hysterical anger.

“Aren't you ashamed of yourself! You have a vicious, evil mind! Even with Pa lying hurt you have to try and get at me, don't you?”

“Oh, stop it, Flo!” My voice was quiet, but it stopped her in mid-sentence. “Do you take me for a nitwit?” I went on wearily. “I
know
what happened here in this room—on that bed. The whole room reeks of your lovemaking! How could you do it? How could you let him touch you? And especially after…”

“After what? After what? And you tell me something, you bitch, with your airs and your cold manners, how would you know what it's like?” She spat the words at me, coming closer, her eyes gleaming with hate. “Ah, but you gave yourself away, didn't you? Accusing
me
and pretending to be such a saint yourself when all the time…” She gave a peal of shrill laughter. “God! What a hypocrite! Wait till I tell Pa. Wait till I tell Mark! Or was it one of them? How many times has
your
bed looked this way and smelled this way, Lady Rowena?”

I looked back at her without expression. “At least I haven't fallen into bed with a murdering animal. Where is he, Flo? Did he fire that shot from this window?”

She glared at me defiantly, and with a shrug I rose to my feet and started towards the door. She came after me.

“Where are you going? Damn you!”

“To fetch the marshal. Better get dressed before I return with him.”

“No! No you wouldn't dare! Because I'd tell…”

“Tell what, Flo Jeffords? I think it is I who will tell the story.”

“No, wait!” Her fingers clutched at my sleeve. “Wait, I'll tell you, but only if you promise you won't tell them! You can't! Pa won't like it, anyhow! I think he'd rather die than have that old scandal dragged up.”

I paused, leaning back against the door because I didn't want her to know that my knees were weak with tension.

“All right then, it
is
true, I've been seeing Luke. You'd already guessed that, hadn't you? He told me you'd found that red silk, and he said we had to be more careful.”

“And today?”

She gave me a gleaming, resentful look. “Yes! He did come today! I knew he was going to be in town and I spoke to him but you weren't clever enough to guess
that,
were you? We arranged another signal, and soon after you left, he came to me.” Her eyes taking on their old, wild brilliance she said, “He couldn't stay away from me, you know! If you only knew all the risks he took, just to see me again! And he's a
man,
do you hear me?
You
wouldn't know what it's like to have a real man, after having had to lie with a soft, potbellied slug with creeping hands and nothing much else!”

“I don't want to hear the sordid details! It's
today
that concerns me.”

Flo shrugged sullenly. “I don't know! I was with Luke, but we had to hurry because
you
might come back. He left. And then later I heard that shot! I was telling the truth! I'd almost fallen asleep when I heard it, and I ran out, just as I told you!”

“You ran looking for
him,
didn't you?” I accused. “You saw what had happened and you knew he'd done it!”

“Maybe I did go looking for him. Maybe I didn't. You can guess till you're blue in the face, but that's all I know!”

She burst into a storm of hysterical weeping that seemed genuine enough.

I left the room, closing the door on the sound of her sobbing. And because I could think of nowhere else to go, I went upstairs to Mark's room, feeling the door push open easily when I twisted the knob. Another lie, then, but I was too strained and exhausted to think about it just then. I sat in the chair by the window and waited.

Part III:
The Violent Peace
Fourteen

We returned to the SD in very different moods from the ones in which we had left it. Mark kept telling me that I had changed. His face was concerned and sad when he attempted to talk me out of what he called my “frozen coldness.”

I was impatient with him.

“But I haven't changed. Don't you see, Mark? I had let myself grow lazy. I let my emotions rule me, and I allowed things to happen that should not have. I should have listened to my reason.”

“You're a woman, Rowena!”

“Must that inescapable physical fact also make me weak?”

No one would ever be able to accuse me of weakness again. I had let myself go in this warm climate; let myself be coddled into relaxing my guard against people. And look what it had done! Todd was hurt, still forced to lie in loudly complaining inactivity in Silver City. And I, who had procrastinated and sat dreaming in the sun, waiting for something to happen, was the new manager of the SD. It was Todd himself who had insisted upon it.

“Mark will help you. He knows enough about ranching to tell you what has to be done. But you might as well learn the ropes, gal. Ain't you always reminding me that you're a full partner? Gonna be that way after we're married too, except in the bedroom.”

“You're in no condition to think about that
now,
Todd Shannon!” I said severely, but he had only laughed; the laugh turning into a cough that had sent the doctor hurrying in, with a quizzical glance for me.

“Didn't I tell you this old goat was to be kept quiet? Look at him—laughing, with a bullet hole that grazed his lung! Out with you, miss. You two can talk over weddin' plans later.”

Todd was jubilant, in a better mood than I had ever seen him in before, in spite of his wound. But I would not let myself think about a wedding yet. We would talk about that later, when Todd was well, and back at the SD. In the meantime, I would be able to show him how well I had managed. I was determined that nothing would go wrong.

I moved my things into the big house, although my father's house would always remain my own special home to which I could escape whenever I pleased. Jules and Marta would manage very well, as they had done before I came. I had to explain to them, though, how practical this new arrangement was. I must learn as much as I could about running a big ranch, and the
palacio
was the hub of all the routine and activity. If I displayed any weakness, it was in not telling Marta the whole truth about the events in Silver City. Sooner or later she would learn that her “señor Lucas” was a hunted outlaw again, the price on his head endorsed by the Territorial Governor himself.

Todd knew, of course. We could hardly have hidden it from him. Mark never told him that I had known Lucas Cord would be in Silver City. The story we told was that Flo had caught a glimpse of him and recognized him, but too late to result in his capture.

And as for Flo herself, although she had returned with us, traveling in unusual silence, she took pains to avoid me, just as I did to avoid remaining too long in the same room with her.

I moved into the largest of the guest bedrooms and spent the first few weeks in learning all I could. I visited every line-shack, inspected every boundary fence. And in the evenings I studied the books that Todd had so painstakingly kept.

The pattern of my days assumed some kind of routine. I rose early, had breakfast with Mark, and then rode out. Either Mark or the taciturn Chuck Daly went with me. I felt that the men were beginning to accept me, especially when they found that I never complained of tiredness or the heat and was genuinely interested in the tasks each one of them performed. Even the hard-bitten Texans had stopped giving me slow, insolent glances when they encountered me.

How quickly one routine can replace another! The only breaks from the sameness of my days occurred when I went back “home” to read occasional entries in my father's journals. But I went seldom—perhaps once or twice a week; and then only to stay for a short time. On those visits I sensed a kind of withdrawal in the way that Marta and Jules greeted me, and one day decided to question her about it.

“Something is the matter, and you might as well stop shaking your head at me in that stubborn fashion. Won't you tell me what's troubling you? I'm still the same person, you know, even though I'm living at the
palacio
.”

She began to talk to me in her quick, colloquial Spanish, as she used to do.

“The patrona has changed! The patrona does not feel compassion, as she did before. Si, I will say this, even though the patrona has the power to cast me out.”

“I wish you would stop calling me ‘the patrona'!” I protested. “Really, Marta, I'm only doing what my father wished me to do. I'm learning to be a rancher. I ask you, would he have approved of my lying in the sun and doing nothing?”

Her face took on a rather stubborn look. “Your padre would have understood. He wanted only that you should be happy.”

“And do I look as if I am unhappy? I tell you, Marta, I'm happier this way, when I'm doing something, learning something. I could not shut myself away from life forever. Surely you understand that?”

“I understand that the patrona is young. And soon the patrona will be married. What will happen then?”

I frowned. “What do you mean by that? My marriage will not change things. I have a feeling my father would have approved.”

“It is not for me to say. The patrona must do as she wishes, of course.”

Gentle reasoning was useless against the wall of Marta's peasant stubbornness. I gave up, in the end, and went back to my large, impersonal bedroom in the
palacio.

The bolt still held the trapdoor closed fast in my old room. I would have no unexpected, unwelcome callers
here.
But why had he come? What had he tried to tell me? Lucas Cord was Flo's lover. Ramon Kordes had looked deeply into my eyes and hinted of some mystery. What kind of men were these seemingly opposite brothers? Ramon had been quiet and soft-spoken. Lucas was brash and rough. A murderer, blinded by his need for revenge. But why had he tried to kill Elmer Bragg?

I asked myself questions that had no answers, and was stern with myself when I was alone. Soon Todd would be well enough to come back, and then I would find the responsibilities I had assumed taken out of my hands. Did I want it that way?

Flo surprised me as I came out of my bedroom one day. Her manner was sullen, as it had been ever since we had left Silver City, missing the grand ball she had looked forward to.

“I guess Pa'll be well enough to come home soon, and you two won't want
me
around!”

I had had a tiring day, and I said wearily, “Oh,
really
Flo, are we back to that again?”

“You even sound like a stepmother already! My God! And don't give me that look. I'm a grown woman, and I'll swear if I want to!”

“Please feel free to do so then,” I said politely, turning aside to pass her, but she stood in my way, her eyes glittering.

“I haven't said what I have to say yet.”

“Very well. And that is?”

“I'm going back. To New York. To Derek. Even
he
looks better after these weeks of living like a prisoner! I tell you, I'm bored, and I'm sick of it! I'm sick of Mark's sanctimonious sermons, and I'm sick of looking at your face. You're even getting to
talk
like Pa, you know that? And I don't want to hear him shouting and lecturing at me either. So there you are!”

I returned her defiant look. “So I see! Have you spoken to Mark about your plans yet?”

“Why should I? You're the patrona, aren't you? You're the real boss around here ever since Pa said so, and even Mark realizes that. So why should I tell him anything? You can't stop me, anyhow. I'm over twenty-one; I'm a married woman, and Pa would be the first to say my place is back with my husband!”

I nodded coolly. “You're right, of course. Well, let me know when you're ready to leave, won't you. I'll arrange for some of the men to go with you as far as Santa Rita.”

“I was planning to go on from El Paso. I have friends there—the Bartletts—Mark knows them, in case you don't want to believe me! I hate New Mexico. At least Texas is a state and the stages run regularly.”

“El Paso is a considerable distance away. Have you thought of how you'll get there?”

“I can catch the stage at Deming or Las Cruces, can't I?”

I sighed. “We'll make some arrangement then, since you are determined to leave. But you will send a telegram to your husband?”

“You don't trust me, do you? Not that it's really any concern of yours, but I'll write out a message if you like, and
you
can have it sent to Derek. I've no doubt it'll make him so happy he'll go right out and make another couple of thousands on the stock market!”

She brushed past me then, as if to indicate that all communication between us had ended, and I went on my way downstairs, wondering what she was up to this time.

When I discussed the matter with him that evening, Mark seemed to think that Flo's departure would be the best possible thing for all of us.

“You know that her presence here has us all on edge,” he reminded me gently. “Heavens, Rowena, it's just as well she leaves before Uncle Todd gets back, or there'll be the devil to pay. She has a knack of rubbing him the wrong way, and when he finds out how deeply she's been involved in all the unpleasantness that has taken place, well…” He raised his shoulders expressively, and I was forced to agree that he was right. Neither of us could have turned Flo out of what was, after all, her home. But she had been the first to suggest going back to her wifely duties.

Mark and I went along with Flo as far as Fort Selden, where we paid a courtesy call on the colonel who was in command of the cavalry unit there. The tall gentlemanly officer assured us she would have an escort of soldiers all the way into El Paso.

“It's not putting us out at all. There's been trouble with the Apaches lately, so all the coaches get an escort. Just to prevent anything, you understand? Show of force. Victorio and his bunch understand
that
.”

I discovered that Colonel Poynter had known my father.

“Fine man. Best chess player it's been my good fortune to encounter.”

He was also a frank man, as I was to find out

“Guy should have been alive today. But there was something eating at him inside. He'd keep things to himself. Even his best friends didn't know what he was really thinking. Poured it all out in those journals he kept. You've read them?”

I had to confess that I had not read them all.

“Ought to, if you want to understand him. But I can see where it would be difficult for you to feel close. You didn't have a chance to know him, and he didn't know you, although he'd talk, sometimes, after the brandy, of how you'd turn out to be a true Dangerfield.”

“Did he tell you about the Dangerfield devil? Someone described it to me once as a taint in the blood. All stemming from an ancestor who was a real witch.”

Colonel Poynter gave me a rather austere smile. “Ah, yes. But in your case, Lady Rowena, I think we can safely say the traditional devil has skipped a generation!”

I thanked him demurely and we went on to speak of other things. Mark came in, and Mrs. Poynter rose from the corner where she had sat silently, engrossed in her sewing, to announce that she was sure supper must be ready.

The stage left on time for El Paso, but Mark and I stayed another day before we returned to the ranch. I liked Colonel Poynter and his quiet wife, and I was genuinely interested in hearing more about the Apache Indians I'd been told so much about.

“Let us hope you'll never meet any.” Colonel Poynter said grimly. “Believe me, Lady Rowena, and I don't mean to try and frighten you, none of the stories you have heard are exaggerations. They are warriors by profession, they claim all this land as their own, and they bitterly resent not only Americans but the Spaniards and Mexicans as well. They are savage, magnificent fighters. Enemies to be respected and feared, Lady Rowena. Make no mistake about it.”

“But you
are
trying to frighten me, colonel!”

He gave me a long, thoughtful look, as if measuring my courage. “Far from it. I'm merely encouraging caution at all times. The Apaches have not chosen to show themselves yet; perhaps it's because they're cautious too, in their way. But they are
there.
Don't make the mistake of underestimating them.”

I returned to the ranch in a sober mood, although Mark tried to tease me out of it.

“The colonel's been a frontier soldier a long time. I think he sees Apaches behind every clump of mesquite.”

“Mark, you know that's not quite true! Colonel Poynter is a
soldier.
He knows the Indians, and I'm convinced he knows what he's talking about. He didn't want to frighten me, only warn me.”

“Oh what, for heaven's sake?”

“I'm not sure, Mark,” I said slowly. “But as commander of one of the largest forts in the area, I'm sure Colonel Poynter is a well-informed man. And as you pointed out, he's been in the territory a long time. He knew my father, and he knows Todd. I'm sure he knows everything else as well. There was some reason for his warning, Mark, and it wasn't just because the Apaches have been giving him trouble recently.”

He gave me a troubled look. “If Colonel Poynter had heard anything specific, he'd have given us a specific warning. You were thinking of Lucas Cord, weren't you? Rowena, he's miles away by now, hiding out somewhere! And now that Cousin Flo has decided to leave us and go back to being a respectable housewife, he has no ally in the enemy camp, has he?”

All the same, I thought, I could sense an underlying uneasiness in Mark as well, and I found myself wishing that Todd would be able to return soon.

BOOK: The Wildest Heart
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