A Heart So Wild

by Johanna Lindsey

  “This is Paris!” she said, exasperated.

  He sat down across from her, giving Mama a nod of dismissal. Courtney watched the woman waddle away, then gazed at Chandos, waiting for him to explain.

  “What are you up to?” she said, glaring. “If you think you can—”

  “Settle down, woman.” He leaned across the table and caught her hand. “This is not Paris. It’s Alameda. Because of your ankle, I figured you could use a few days’ rest while I take care of my business. I didn’t want to leave you alone, so I brought you here.”

  “Why would you have to leave me alone? What is it you have to do in Paris?”

  “That, lady, is none of your business.”

  Oh, how she hated it when he took that tone with her! “You’re not coming back, are you? You’re just going to leave me here. Is that it?”

  “You know me better than that,” he said. “I brought you this far, didn’t I? I’m not going to abandon you a few miles short of your destination.”

  That didn’t alleviate her frustration. She didn’t want to stay with strangers, and she didn’t want Chandos to leave her.

  “I thought you were going to take me with you to Paris, then we would go on from there.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Because of my ankle?”

  He felt he’d already answered that. “Look, I’ll only be gone about four days. It’ll do you good to stay off your foot that long.”

  “But why here? Why not in Paris?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know anyone in Paris. I pass through Alameda often, coming and going through Indian Territory. I know Mama. I know I can trust her to look after you while I’m gone. You’ll be in good hands, cateyes. I wouldn’t leave you unless—”

  “But, Chandos—”

  “Goddamnit!” he exploded. “Don’t make me feel—”

  He stopped as Mama entered, carrying a large tray of food.

  Chandos stood up as Mama reached the table.

  “I’m leaving now, Mama. See that she gets a bath after she eats, then put her to bed.”

  He marched halfway to the door, then stopped, turned, and came back. Towering over Courtney, he lifted her out of her chair and wrapped his arms around her. His kiss was heady stuff, leaving her breathless.

  “I’ll be back, kitten,” he murmured huskily against her lips. “Don’t scratch anyone while I’m away.”

  And then he was gone. Mama was staring at Courtney, but Courtney was watching the door that had just closed and trying to hold back her tears.

  If she could feel such desolation now, when he would be gone only four days, how was she going to feel when he left her, for good, in Waco?

  Chapter 32

  FOR two days Courtney just sat in front of her bedroom window above the restaurant, looking at the street out front. When Mama Alvarez scolded that she should be in bed, Courtney smiled vaguely, refusing to argue. Mama meant well. And Courtney knew it was stupid to keep watch by the window when Chandos probably hadn’t even reached Paris yet, but she wouldn’t budge.

  Her foot propped on a cushioned stool, she sat and watched the activities of the small town, which was only a little bigger than Rockley. She did a lot of thinking in that bedroom, and no matter how she argued with herself, one truth could not be denied. She loved Chandos. She loved him more than she thought it was possible to love anyone.

  It wasn’t just one thing. It wasn’t only that he made her feel safe. That was important, but there was also the wanting. Lord, how she wanted him. It was also the way he could be gentle when she needed gentleness, loving when she needed loving. And it was his lonely independence too, his don’t-get-close attitude. How vulnerable that made him seem.

  But as much as she would have liked to, Courtney didn’t deceive herself. She knew she couldn’t have Chandos, no matter how much she wanted him. He wanted no permanent relationship, and had made that clear. She had to be realistic. There would be no marrying Chandos.

  As far back as she could remember, she had doubted she would ever find true love and have that love returned. That she was right gave her no satisfaction now.

  The second day of her stay at Mama’s, Courtney met Mama’s daughter. The girl barged into Courtney’s room without knocking and introduced herself. It was hate at first meeting—for both of them—for Courtney recognized the girl’s name from Chandos’s tortured dreams, and Calida Alvarez knew Chandos had brought Courtney there.

  Calida was beautiful, vibrant, with glossy black hair and brown eyes that sparkled with malice. She was older than Courtney by only four years, but those few years made a great difference. The older girl, passionate by nature, exuded the confidence and self-assurance Courtney had always lacked.

  That is what Courtney saw. Calida, on the other hand, saw her first real rival, a young lady who was coldly formal, calmly in control, and whose sun-kissed features were so unusual she was stunning. Golden skin, brown hair that flashed with golden streaks, eyes that slanted upward at the corners like a cat’s and were the color of warm whiskey. Courtney was tawny gold all over, and Calida wanted to scratch her eyes out. In fact, she attacked with words.

  “I hope you have a good reason to travel with my Chandos.”

  “Your Chandos?”

  “Si, mine,” Calida said flatly.

  “He lives here, then?”

  The older girl hadn’t expected a counterattack, and she faltered, then recovered.

  “He lives here more than he lives anywhere else.”

  “That hardly makes him yours,” Courtney murmured. “Now, if you’d said he was your husband…” She gave Calida a vague smile and let the insinuation hang in the air.

  “I am the one who has refused marriage! If I want to marry him, I have only to snap my fingers.” She did, loudly.

  Courtney found her temper rising. Did Chandos know how certain of him Calida Alvarez was? Did she have good reason to be so certain?

  “That’s all very well, Miss Alvarez, but until you do have that ring on your finger, my reasons for traveling with Chandos are none of your concern.”

  “It is my concern!” Calida shouted loudly enough to be heard in the street.

  Courtney had had enough. “No it is not,” she said slowly, with a furious undertone. “And if you have any more questions, I suggest you save them for Chandos. For now, get out.”

  “Puta!” Calida spat. “I will have words with him, all right. I will see he leaves you here, but not in my mama’s house!”

  Courtney slammed the door shut behind the girl, then realized that her hands were trembling. Was there anything real in Calida’s threat? Could she talk Chandos into abandoning Courtney here? There was enough doubt to make Courtney worry. Calida had known Chandos a long time. She knew him intimately. Courtney did too, but Chandos came back to Calida often, while he resisted Courtney with all his might.

  Calida flounced into Mario’s Saloon, where she worked in the evenings. She lived with her mama, but her life was her own and she did as she pleased, worked where she wanted to, and turned a deaf ear to her mama’s pleas.

  She worked in the saloon because that was where excitement was. There were occasional gunfights and brawls—many of them fought over her. Calida thrived on excitement, and was happiest when she instigated action, whether by pitting two men against each other, or stealing a man from another woman so she could watch the drama unfold. Calida had never been thwarted, never failed to get what she wanted, one way or another.

  At that moment, she was fuming. The gringa had not given her the answers she wanted. Nor had she seemed upset to learn that Chandos had another woman.

  Maybe there was nothing between Chandos and the gringa. Could that be? Maybe the kiss Mama had witnessed meant nothing. But Calida told herself there had to be something between Chandos and Courtney. He’d never traveled with a woman before, Calida knew. Chandos was a loner. That was one of the things Calida liked about him, that and the dangerous aura about him.

  She k
new Chandos was a gunfighter, but she believed he was also an outlaw. She’d never asked, but she was sure he was. Outlaws excited Calida more than anything else. Their lawlessness, their unpredictability, their dangerous lives. Many of them passed through Alameda on the run, usually to hide out in Indian Territory. She knew many outlaws, had bedded many, but Chandos was something special.

  He never said he loved her. He never tried to bamboozle her with words. She couldn’t deceive him in any way. If he said he wanted her, he wanted her. If she tried to play hard to get or inflame his jealousy, he walked away.

  It was his indifference that intrigued her and made her always available when he came to town, no matter who else she was bedding or pursuing at the time. And Chandos always came to her. He stayed at her mama’s house, too, which was convenient.

  Chandos didn’t like hotels, and the first time he came to Alameda, he’d talked Mama into renting him a room. Mama liked him. She didn’t like Calida’s other men, but she liked Chandos. And there were empty bedrooms in the house since Calida’s brothers had grown and left home. Mama knew what Chandos and her daughter did late at night. Calida brought other men to her room, even Mario, but the older woman had long since given up trying to reform Calida. Her daughter did as she liked and always would.

  And now, the man she considered exclusively hers had brought another woman to town with him and asked her mama to look after the woman! What nerve!

  “What has put that spark in your eye, chica?”

  “That—that—” She stopped, staring at Mario thoughtfully. She smiled. “Nothing important. Give me a whiskey before I start serving—without the water.”

  She watched carefully as he poured her drink. Mario, a distant cousin, had come to Alameda with her family nine years ago. The family had been forced to leave one town after another, towns that didn’t tolerate Mexicans running businesses. Alameda, farther north, was tolerant because there had never been any Mexicans there before. Everyone loved Mama’s cooking, so no one objected when Mario opened a saloon across from Mama’s restaurant. The saloon was a success because Mario’s liquor was good and cheaper than his competitors“.

  Mario was Calida’s lover when Calida felt generous. He’d have married her in a minute, as would several other men, but Calida didn’t want a husband. Certainly she didn’t want Mario. He was handsome enough, with velvety brown eyes and a pencil-thin mustache that made him look like a Spanish grandee. And his brawny strength was impressive. But at heart Mario was a coward. Mario would never fight for her.

  Calida favored Mario with another smile as he handed her the glass of whiskey. An idea was taking shape in her mind, one that had numerous possibilities.

  “Mama has a guest, a beautiful gringa,” Calida said casually. “But Mama doesn’t know she’s a puta.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She confided that she plans to stay at our house only until her injured foot is better. Then she will move to Bertha’s house.”

  Mario’s curiosity was aroused. He visited Bertha’s whorehouse often, though only a few girls there would accept him. A new whore would be much in demand at Bertha’s, especially a beautiful new whore. But, Mario thought, he would probably be the last to bed her.

  “Are you going to tell your mama?” he wanted to know.

  Calida’s mouth formed a little moue and she shrugged. “I don’t see why. She was very friendly, that one, very talkative, and—and actually, I feel sorry for her. I can’t imagine what it must be like to want a man and not have one available. But that is her predicament.”

  “She told you that?”

  Calida nodded, leaning across the bar to whisper. “She even asked me if I knew anyone… who might be interested. Are you?” He frowned at her and she laughed. “Come now, Mario. I know you will have her eventually. I do not mind, querido, because I know it will mean nothing to you. But do you wish to wait until she is worn out, or would you rather have her when she is desperate for a man?”

  She had him. She knew that look. Mario was aroused by just the thought of being the first man in town to have the new woman.

  “What about your mama?” he asked her.

  “Wait until tomorrow night. Mama is invited to Anne Harwell’s birthday party, and she plans to go as soon as her last customer leaves the restaurant. Of course, she won’t stay out very late, not with church the next day. But if you’re quiet, I’m sure the gringa will want you to stay with her all night, and you can leave in the morning while Mama is at church.” “Will you tell her to expect me?” “Oh, no, Mario.” Calida grinned. “You must surprise her. I do not want the woman to feel indebted to me. Just make sure she doesn’t scream before you have a chance to tell her why you’re there.”

  And, Calida thought, if things went well, Chandos would return in time to be part of the surprise. It would be quite a scene, and she wished she could be there to watch. She felt better just thinking about it.

  Chapter 33

  A POOL of yellow light fell on the hard-packed dirt street behind the little house. The back street was quiet that evening because it was removed from the Saturday night hell-raising going on along the main thoroughfare.

  Chandos had been told that it was mainly dance-hall girls who lived on this lane. One of those girls was Wade Smith’s woman. Her name was Loretta.

  Chandos had wasted a damn lot of time locating her, because Smith was using an alias here in Paris. Also, Smith had lived very quietly in town because he was wanted by the law. No one at all knew him as Wade Smith, and only a few people knew him by his alias, Will Green.

  This Will Green might be the wrong one, Chandos knew that. But he might also be the right one. Chandos was taking no chances. He stood in the shadows across the lane, watching the little house for a long time before he approached it. His gun was palmed, held close to his side. His heart beat fast. He was exhilarated. This was it, the showdown he’d desired for so long. He was about to come face-to-face with his sister’s killer.

  Moving stealthily to the door, Chandos carefully tried the knob. It wasn’t locked. He waited, his ear to the door, hearing nothing inside. He heard only his own blood pounding in his head, nothing else.

  He turned the knob slowly again, then quickly kicked the door open. The whole front wall shook as the door flew inward. Several dishes on a shelf toppled over and a cup rolled out into the middle of the dirt floor. On the bed, a blond head turned and looked down the barrel of Chandos’s gun.

  The breasts outlined against the sheet were tiny, barely formed. Why, the girl couldn’t be more than thirteen or fourteen, Chandos realized. Was this the wrong house?

  “Loretta?”

  “Yeah?”

  The girl cringed.

  Chandos exhaled heavily. It was the right house. He should have remembered that Smith liked them young.

  She had been badly beaten. One side of her face was dark and swollen. There was a black eye on the other side. An ugly dark bruise spread from her collarbone to her left shoulder, and smaller bruises ringed her upper arms, as if she had been brutally gripped. He hated to think what the rest of her would look like under that sheet.

  “Where is he?”

  “Wh-ho?”

  She sounded pathetically young, and frightened. It made him realize how he must look to her. He hadn’t bothered to shave since leaving Courtney, and he was still pointing his gun at the girl. He holstered it.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. I want Smith.”

  She stiffened. Heat flashed in the one open eye as anger replaced fear.

  “You’re too late, mister. I turned that bastard in. The last time he beat me up was the last time.”

  “He’s in jail?”

  She nodded. “Sure as hell is. I knew there was a ranger in town, or I wouldn’t”ve turned him in. I didn’t trust the jail here to hold him, so I told my friend Pepper to ask the ranger to come see me. I told the ranger who Wade really was. See, Wade told me ‘bout this girl he killed in San Antonio. He threatened
once that he’d kill me just like he did her. I believed him.“

  “Did the ranger take him?” Chandos asked, trying not to sound impatient.

  “Yeah. He come back here later on, him an” the marshal, an‘ caught Wade with his pants down. The bastard still wanted me, lookin“ like this. I think he likes it better when I look like this.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Three days, mister.”

  Chandos groaned. Three goddamn days. If it hadn’t been for the snakebite and the bounty hunters coming after Courtney, he’d have gotten to Smith in time.

  “If you wanna see him, mister,” Loretta continued, “you’ll have to hightail it. That ranger knew about Wade. He said they got enough evidence against Wade down in San Antonio to hang him right after a fast trial.”

  Chandos didn’t doubt that. He’d been to San Antonio soon after the killing and heard all about it. That was where he’d first lost Smith’s trail.

  Chandos nodded. “I’m obliged, kid.”

  “I ain’t no kid,” she told him. “Leastwise I don’t look young when I get my face made up. I’ve been working the dance halls a year now.”

  “There ought to be a law against it.”

  “Do tell,” she retorted. “A preachin” gunslinger. If that don’t beat all.“ When he didn’t take up her challenge, but merely turned to leave, she called out, ”Hey, mister, you didn’t say why you wanted Wade.“

  Chandos glanced back at her. She could so easily have been a worse victim of Smith’s. The girl didn’t know how lucky she really was.

  “I wanted him for murder, kid. That girl down in San Antonio wasn’t the only young girl he’s killed.”

  Even across the room he could see gooseflesh appear on her arms.

  “You—you don’t think he could get away from the ranger—do you?”

  “No.”

  “I think maybe I’ll move on, soon as my ribs heal.” She said it more to herself than to him.

  Chandos closed the door. He closed his eyes and stood outside the little house, thinking about trying to catch up with the ranger. He could probably manage it, but the lawman wouldn’t turn Smith over to him. There would be a fight, and he couldn’t see killing a ranger who was only doing his duty. He’d never done that and he wasn’t ready to start now.