Jacey's Reckless Heart
Page 31
The shy greetings and casual acceptance of her gave Jacey a pleasant sense of well-being, one she hadn’t felt since before her parents’ deaths. As she walked, she breathed deeply of the invigorating morning air, thinking that in every cluttered corner of this tangled neighborhood, life went on. Her reason for being here at Cielo Azul might be a matter of life or death, but only for her. And no matter the outcome, these folks would be here to carry on.
Their lives couldn’t be easy, living as they did under the constant threat of Don Rafael’s whims and cruelty. But somehow she knew they’d persist in spite of him. Because they shared the strong ties of family. They had children to feed and raise, loved ones to worry about, and loved ones who’d see them through. Yes, family was everything.
Giving in to this rare and reflective mood of hers, Jacey tried to get a feel for what made this struggling existence outside Cielo Azul’s walls seem so much more desirable than the tense high living that went on inside the villa. Looking around herself, moving among these proud, hardworking people, she observed the morning’s chores being done and heard the women’s laughing conversations in Spanish. These people belonged here. That was it.
And by accepting her, at least outwardly, they made her feel as if she belonged here, too. Smiling at the chortling babies most of the young women carried, winking at the shy toddlers clinging to their mothers’ skirts, laughing with the carefree children shooting past, intent on their games, Jacey was surprised by a sudden sense of melancholy, of homesickness, that swept over her. A huge lump of emotion lodged in her throat.
A frown replaced her smile of a moment ago. Was she going to cry? What was this all about? But she knew. All the sights and sounds here, all the cheerfulness, all the simplicity of life, made her long for the good times before Mama and Papa had been killed. They’d been a real family then. A happy family.
In her mind, Jacey saw her home. The ranch house, the barn, the corrals, the meadows and the cattle. But mostly she saw the people, her loved ones. There was Mama and Biddy laughing and talking as they hung out the laundry. She saw them cooking and canning. Saw them shooing chickens from the verandah by flapping their aprons at them. Yes, they’d laughed and lived and loved. But now it was gone.
Not ever again would she have Papa’s strong arms to run to and make her feel safe, to protect her, to encourage her in her wildness, much to Mama’s consternation. Jacey sniffed, and knew she had to face it. She was an adult now. On her own. Responsible for her own life, her own happiness. Just like her sisters were. Thank God they still had each other and Biddy. But it wasn’t the same. She wondered if her sisters felt this way, too.
She wondered if she herself would ever feel again the joy of living, the sheer high-spiritedness of being young and safe and loved. Or would it all end here?
Realizing she couldn’t lay claim to the bigger happinesses right now, Jacey settled for the small ones. Like her outfit. For the first time in the three days she’d been here, she felt herself again. Her leather vest, along with her split riding skirt and blouse, had shown up, clean and pressed and folded, outside Zant’s room this morning. She almost blushed again to think that maybe someone had placed her clothes there while she and Zant were … in bed and making a certain amount of noise.
Jacey’s mind flitted away from that scene. Still, she marveled how, in the short time she’d been … without her virginity … she’d become a free-thinking woman. A smile curved her lips. And certainly one to appreciate a fine-looking man. Suddenly aware of Zant’s closeness, of his tanned and muscled body that gave definition to his denims and cotton shirt, of his long-fingered hands and what he could do with them, Jacey had to take a big, openmouthed breath. Now, he was certainly a happiness she could lay claim to in the here and now. She let that same breath out.
Instantly, Zant was at her elbow. “What’s wrong? Did you see him?”
With a start, Jacey realized that while she’d been drifting in thought, she’d probably passed about twenty young boys without so much as a glimpse at them. She turned away from the male-musk scent of Zant, from the crisp black chest hairs that peeked above his shirt’s opening, and lied. “No, I thought it was him, but it’s not.”
“How do you know it’s not? You said you didn’t get a good look at him.”
Any attraction she was feeling for him at that moment poofed into nothingness with his irritable words. She turned her face up to him. “Look, do you want me to do this, or not? I told you before that if you have something else to do, go ahead and do it. I believe I’m safe enough with Paco at my side and my own Colt strapped on. Besides, after your performance at the horse corral yesterday with Mr. Sereda, your men don’t want anything to do with me. I believe they’ll step around me like I’m a coiled rattler.”
To her surprise—and the morning seemed full of them—Zant laughed outright. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll leave you to your task. I need to talk to Blue and some of the other men, anyway. Look, I’m going to be gone for a while today. Away from Cielo Azul, I mean. Think you can stay out of trouble?”
Insulted, Jacey’s Lawless temper flared. “I won’t go looking for any, if that’s what you mean. But I won’t run from trouble, either. If it presents itself, well, I’ll just have to deal with it, won’t I?”
Zant’s mouth twisted with exasperation. “Dammit, Jacey, for once just—Forget it. You wouldn’t listen, anyway.” He grimaced and ran a hand over his mouth before going on. “You think you can make Paco understand when—if—you find the kid?”
“I think I can manage. I’ll point and holler and jump up and down. Think that’ll work?”
Glaring now, Zant warned, “There’s no need for the sass, Jacey.”
She looked him up and down. “I believe there’s always a need.”
“Fine. Have it your way.” He then turned to Paco, spoke some Spanish, and walked away.
With Paco, Jacey watched Zant’s long-legged strides carry him away from them. She looked up at her sombreroed guard. “You think I made him mad again?”
Paco nodded. “Sí, señorita.”
For someone who didn’t speak English, he sure did seem to understand everything she said. Jacey narrowed her eyes at him. “You sure you don’t speak my lingo, Paco?”
The big man stared at her. He didn’t nod, or shake his head, or say a word. He just stared.
Jacey decided to test him. Hands to her waist, she smiled as sweetly as she knew how and intoned, “You big, ugly Mexican son of a bitch, that stupid old hat of yours makes you look like a giant walking mushroom.”
Paco remained impassive. “Sí, señorita.”
Jacey huffed out a breath and spun on her heel. “Well, let’s keep looking. The day’s not getting any longer.”
“Sí, señorita.”
She shook her head and kept walking and looking. There must be a hundred boys in this camp. How was she ever going to find the one she’d only sort of seen? Well, at least she wasn’t locked up in that stuffy room. That was one good thing—
“Mujer.”
Now what? she stopped and focused on Paco. “Moo-hair? Now what does that mean?”
“Sí. Mujer.” He pointed to a woman and repeated, “Mujer.” He then pointed to an adobe. “Casa.”
Jacey looked at the house and then back at the woman that Paco’d pointed to a moment ago. What the—And then she realized what he was doing. And felt really bad for having insulted him. Her guilt trembled her tentative smile. “Paco, are you trying to teach me Spanish?”
“Sí, señorita.” His expression never changed. He pointed a thick finger at three little boys who ran by. “Niños.”
“Neen-yos,” Jacey dutifully repeated. Adding, “I’m sorry I called you a name and made fun of your hat, Paco. I was just … testing you. I didn’t mean it.”
“Sí, señorita,” he answered. He then pointed to a broken-down buckboard wagon. “Carreta.”
* * *
“I should’ve been there last night with you, Blue.”
Zant laughed. “I wasn’t a minute too early, either. Jacey’d just told him that they needed to cut through the horsecrap and say what they mean.”
Blue’s bleat of laughter bent him over his pommel. His Appaloosa mare did a sidestepping dance, which he easily controlled. “She said ‘horsecrap’ to the old man?”
Zant chuckled and shook his head at his blond friend. “That she did. What the hell am I going to do with her, Blue?”
“Hell, I think you ought to marry her. She’s your match, sure enough.”
Zant grunted. “Well, my match is back there looking for that kid who was under her bed. I can’t figure out how he got in or who gave him my father’s spur. I know it sure as hell wasn’t the old man. If he meant to hurt Jacey with that spur, he’d hand it to her himself. That’s his style.” The weight of his concerns gave Zant pause. After a moment, he went on. “Damn, Blue, this is a mess. What do you think he’s done to Jacey’s family?”
Blue shrugged, wouldn’t look at him. “All I can tell you is what you already know. He’s hated J. C. Lawless since the day your mother took her own life over his killing of the Kid.”
Hearing his past summed up in one sentence like that didn’t affect Zant as much as did Blue’s tone of voice and his not looking at him. “You know something else you’re not telling me, Blue?”
Blue looked up, his eyes widened. “Hell, no. I’m not about to keep anything from you. I was just thinkin’… well, fearin’ is more like it … what all this means for you, compadre. With Don Rafael, I mean, and aside from Jacey’s reasons for being here.”
Zant searched for the right words. “Every day it’s looking more and more like I’m going to have to kill him. I could never control him, Blue, even if I just walked in and said I’m in charge. He’s got some idea that he and I’ll overthrow all the other dons in Sonora and rule some big kingdom here. He’s intent on war and nothing will stop him. It’s insane.”
Zant drew a deep breath, let it out, and went on. “We’re too different to live side by side. We don’t want the same things out of life. But Blue, how can I kill my own grandfather? Or let someone else do it, either?”
Blue shook his head and looked down at his own hands. “I don’t know as you can, amigo.”
After that, Zant gave himself up to the swaying motion of Sangre’s gait over the uneven and sandy ground. The day was blessedly cool, but his mind was full, his heart heavy. He feared that with every step, with every decision, he was rushing himself and those he loved toward some inevitable cliff. And when they got to it, they would all go over. No one would survive.
A few minutes later, Blue broke the silence between them. “What’re you goin’ to say when we get to Villa Delarosa, Zant?”
“I’m going to tell Don Alizondo what’s going on. And what I plan to do about it. I hope to convince him to sit tight and not retaliate.”
Blue snorted his opinion of that. “Good luck. That old man and his five sons ought to be up in arms and marchin’ this way at the head of an army of pistoleros—as we speak.”
Zant notched his Stetson up and nodded. “I suspect they would be, if they knew who’d raided and burned their villa last night.”
“Yeah, it was dark, and we had our faces covered. Still, the fire we set didn’t burn much but an old outbuildin’. And no one was killed. I told Victor to tell Don Rafael otherwise. Hope that slow-headed son of a gun remembers and gets his words right. And doesn’t add anything.”
Zant nodded his agreement. “It could’ve been a lot worse last night, Blue, if I hadn’t been able to convince Don Rafael not to use his hired guns on the raid. I told him they’d be recognized at Villa Delarosa. He finally accepted that and decided to go with some rank-and-file workers.”
Zant looked inward for a moment, recalling that scene yesterday afternoon. He then went on. “And I don’t mind telling you I’m damned thankful you were outside when he sent Sereda to ask for volunteers. I couldn’t come up with an excuse to get away from the old man.”
Blue shrugged. “There was no luck to it. Manuel sneaked out to the bunkhouse and alerted me. So I spread the word to men I know are loyal to you. And we raised our hands first.”
Zant reined in Sangre and stared in disbelief at Blue. “Manuel? The Manuel I know—my grandfather’s personal servant?”
Blue grinned. “Yep. One and the same. Seems Don Rafael made the mistake about a year ago of having Ramon Quintana use his whip on Manuel’s cousin’s son, Pablo. Over a stolen horse. Cut the kid to ribbons. Nearly killed him. Pablo wasn’t more’n about fifteen. And family’s family, you know.”
Thinking, no, he didn’t know, that he’d never had a family, Zant shook his head as he looked off in the cactus-dotted and rocky-hilled distance. “Quintana was a heartless bastard. I’m glad I killed him.” He then sought Blue’s gaze. “Did the boy steal the horse?”
Blue nodded. “Yep. But just so’s he could sneak away and ride to Villa Delarosa to see a girl he was sweet on. He brought the horse back that evenin’, no worse for wear.”
Zant absorbed that and let out a breath heavy with the terrible weight of his grandfather’s many transgressions. “Where’s Pablo now?”
Blue grinned. “At Don Alizondo’s. Some of the men took him there later that night. We told Don Rafael he’d died. The boy healed and married his sweetheart. I hear he’s a pretty good broncobuster.”
Zant’s burden lifted a little from his heart. “Good. When we get there, point Pablo out to me. I’d like to have a few words with him.”
“All right.” Then, without being prompted, Blue added, “That incident was the last straw for most of the men who aren’t hired guns, Zant. That was the turnin’ point. They’ve been waitin’ ever since for you to come home, for you to make it better. Out here like this—with nowhere else to go, with all the other dons havin’ all the people they need—you’re their only hope. They look to you to lead them in havin’ better lives.”
Blue’s speech stunned Zant. Everything he said was true enough. Hadn’t he thought the same things, hadn’t he already taken some steps in that direction? But to hear it all spoken aloud … it made him feel, well, tied down. He cast a grim eye over the landscape. Hell, he was still on Calderon land. But this idea of being a don was still foreign to him, still not second nature.
It wasn’t too late for him to just ride away. He’d done nothing so far that reeked of finality. With that thought came the realization that maybe he’d done so on purpose. Maybe it was because he doubted himself, wasn’t sure of himself. Hell, he was still stumbling through his days. He still questioned every decision he made, every order he gave. Dammit, it was just too soon to hear the rest of his life laid out for him.
Zant looked over at Blue, saw the expectancy in his friend’s clear-eyed and solemn gaze. Zant looked away, looked to the north. There lay freedom and independence. But the way he was headed right now? If he went on to Villa Delarosa, he was as good as declaring himself to be everything Blue said he was. A leader. A don. Responsible for all the lives in his hands. He looked at his hands. All they’d known was fighting and gunplay. Was his head any better, any cooler and wiser, than his gunhand? Could he do this?
If he did, then never again could he worry only about himself or make a decision without considering its effect on more than two hundred lives. He looked again to the north, to the Arizona Territory. A strong desire seized him to urge Sangre into a gallop that would see him far away from Cielo Azul. Then, feeling Blue still watching him, knowing he awaited his reaction to his words—in effect, his decision—Zant realized this was it.
He could turn and run. Or he could stand and fight. Which would it be? He took a deep breath, and loo
king forward, in the direction of Villa Delarosa, he said, “How many men you figure we can count on when things come to a head?”
Blue exhaled loudly, dramatically, drawing Zant’s suddenly bemused gaze his way. Blue smiled grimly, proudly at Zant, and then shrugged, as if nothing important had just happened. “About half, as of today. Some of the other half want you to take over, but are too afraid of Don Rafael, should you lose. They could go either way. And still others, along with all those hired guns, are Don Rafael’s men. And will remain so.”
Blue was quiet for a moment. Zant thought he was done, but then his friend added, “You can’t wait much longer to act, Zant. Not more than a few days, a week at most. Last night’s raid was only the first of many. Too many more of those, and someone will get killed. And then, no one will be able to stop the fightin’.” Blue turned in his saddle to look Zant fully in the face. “The time is here. It’s now or never.”
Blue’s words pushed Zant’s new resolve heavily against his heart. “Dammit, Blue, why didn’t you tell me any of this before? Why not that first time when I was here after getting out of jail?”
Blue’s sincere blue eyes hardened and forgave in the same expression. “I did try. I did mention it to you that night I had you come out to the corral. Remember? That was the same night Paco surprised you with his English and called you jefe.”
Zant thought back. The memory flooded him. “Damned if you didn’t. And I just let it pass. What the hell was wrong with me?”
Blue made a dismissive noise. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You just weren’t ready to hear it. You were still too restless to settle down, too mad at the world. Not that I blame you. If someone had framed me and got me thrown in jail, I’d find the—”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do, when all this is over. If I’m still alive. Someone will talk or brag. And when I know who, I’m going to kill him.”
Blue nodded his agreement, but then gave Zant a speculative look and frowned, acting as if he weren’t at all sure if he should say what was on his mind. Zant saved him his doubts. “Spit it out.”