Morgan rode in, and Dap climbed back up onto his platform. Morgan rode up toward the casa grande, and Dap settled down to watch again. But the edge had been taken off for him. If a man as careless as Morgan Todd could get through a countryside supposedly peppered with killing-mad Injuns, Dap didn’t need to be standing no guard duty while other men slept.
Leon stood guard less than a hundred yards away. Dap walked over to borrow some snuff. “Who came in?” Leon asked. He’d been able to hear the rider coming, but he hadn’t been able to hear who it was.
“Old pretty shadow hisself, Morgan Todd.”
“What’s he doing back here? There trouble?”
“Reckon he wants to continue that fight with Miss Judy.” Every man in the bunkhouse knew Morgan Todd had looked like he’d been raised on sour milk when he’d left that morning, and they knew the reason had to be Miss Judy Burkhart. She was the only reason he ever came to Rancho la Reina.
Leon grinned. “Can’t imagine why a smart woman like Miss Judy would put up with a slick like him for two minutes.”
“He’s built kinda far away from his corns. Women like tall men. They ain’t given to short little shits like you.”
“Why, you ain’t half an inch taller than me,” Leon protested.
“Never said I was.”
“Well, I hope they’re not too blamed noisy.”
“I’ll tell ’em not to wake you,” Dap drawled, and walked back to his post.
To Morgan Todd, walking his horse from the front gate, Judy’s yellow gown was easy to see in the moonlight. Morgan reined his horse and started to call out to her, but something stopped him. Maybe the direction she was headed. If she was running after that bastard Brago again…
He watched as Judy ran straight toward Johnny Brago’s cabin. Rage flushed through him, and he kicked his tired horse into a gallop.
A few feet from Johnny’s porch, Judy heard the sound of a horse and turned. Who could be riding a horse inside the gates at this time of night? The bunkhouse was dark.
Unafraid, she walked forward to meet the rider in front of the casa grande. She stopped in surprise.
“Morgan, is that you?”
“It damned sure ain’t Brago.”
“Why did you come back?”
The fury that had been driving him ever since she’d called him Johnny—aggravated by his catching her sneaking toward Brago’s cabin—bubbled to the surface and erupted. “I’ll be damned if I know,” he sneered. “I guess I forgot what a little tramp you are.”
Judy turned to leave. Morgan leaped off his horse, grabbed her, and jerked her around to face him. “I’m not through with you yet.”
Judy looked from his angry face to her arm, where his steely fingers were bruising her soft white flesh. Mindful of the injured soldiers sleeping a hundred yards away, she kept her voice low. “Well, I’m through with you,” she said. “If you came back here to tell me how rotten I am, I don’t need it. You can go to hell, Morgan Todd!”
His face contorted with rage. She had never seen him this angry. Fear rippled along her spine.
Swallowing, strangely intimidated by his silent age, Judy tried to back away from him, but his hand held her fast. “So…don’t go to hell,” she said. “It was only a suggestion.” Hoping to distract him, she ventured, “You going to amputate my arm with your hand?”
Morgan didn’t answer. He walked toward the barn, half dragging her. Judy tried to hold back, but he was too strong. When they were inside the barn, with the door closed behind them, he faced her.
“Why did you come back, Morgan?”
“Because we have unfinished business.”
Feeling as if he had called her a tramp again, she flinched at his reference to business. Was that what she was to him? Business?
“Take it to someone else,” she said defiantly. “I don’t want your business anymore!”
“Like hell I will! I brought it to you, and you’re gonna take care of it.” This wasn’t what Morgan had planned, but Judy had a way of infuriating him so bad that he forgot why he had come back.
Judy jerked furiously on her arm. “Let me go!”
Morgan’s grip tightened.
Striking out with her other arm, Judy hit him a stinging blow. The pain that flashed in his eye almost blinded him. He hit Judy twice, jarring his arm with the force of his blows. Like a cornered bobcat, she slashed out at him with one taloned hand. Fire tore down Morgan’s face and chest. Before he could catch her arm she hit him in the eye again. This time the pain was excruciating.
Blinded, Morgan clutched his face. Judy darted toward the door, but he wasn’t about to let her get away from him. He leaped after her and caught her by the hair. When she turned to come at him with those claws again, he hit her, and she stumbled. He hit her again, and this time she fell and lay still. Morgan staggered to the door and leaned against it, panting. For the first time he noticed the agitation of the stamping, snorting horses in the surrounding stalls. One banged against his stall door, another reared and whinnied.
Staring blankly around him, Morgan realized what he had done. Dazed, he walked slowly back to Judy’s side, knelt down, and touched her cheek. His hand trembled. Already swelling and bruised, the sweet curve of her neck was cool to his touch. Frightened, he searched her wrist for a pulse but found none.
Hands over his eyes, he stumbled to the door and then outside. This was all that bastard Brago’s fault! He ran to Johnny’s cabin, banged on the door, then lifted his face to the sky and shouted into the night: “Brago, you half-breed bastard. Come out and fight like a man!”
Johnny heard his name called and knew immediately who it was. At first he resisted knowing, because he didn’t want to leave Tía’s side, but he knew he had to.
Sighing, he coiled up into a sitting position. Fumbling in the darkness, he found his pants and pulled them on.
“Stay here,” he said to Tía, touching her thigh.
“No!” Tía reached up and tried to pull him back down beside her, but he only kissed her hand and placed it firmly back on her chest.
“I have to go. I been puttin’ this off too long already.”
“Fighting over Judy?”
“It’s gone way beyond that,” he said, his voice grim.
He stood up and stuffed his shirttail into his trousers but didn’t bother to fasten the buttons.
“I don’t know why men have to prove they know how to die standing up. Morgan Todd sounds mad as hell, and you don’t have any more weapon than a toothless gopher snake. If the Lord had wanted you to fight like a dog, he’da given you longer teeth and claws.”
Johnny ignored Tía’s angry chatter and walked away.
If she’d had something in her hand, Tía would have thrown it at Johnny’s receding back. He disappeared into the dark shadows of the surrounded trees. Frustrated, half-angry, she picked up her crumpled gown, discarded so carelessly only moments ago, and pulled it over her head. I was a fool to give in to him. One second he’s making love to me, the next he’s running off to fight over Judy…Ohhh!
Buttons that had been opened easily under Johnny’s deft fingers defied her trembling attempts to close them. Straining her ears for any sound, she struggled furiously with the buttons, wondering what would happen if she walked up to the casa grande buttoned up wrong after Morgan and Johnny awakened the entire compound with their brawling.
Out of nowhere a hand covered her mouth and nose. Once in place, it clamped like a vise, cutting off breath and sound. Tía struggled wildly.
“Hush! Do not cry out. Do you hear me, little tramp?”
Papa’s familiar rough voice sent a shiver of fear down her spine. Heart thudding like a triphammer, Tía nodded vigorously. The suffocating pressure diminished, leaving her nose free so she could breathe. The part of Tía that had loved him so well and so long leaped with joy. He was alive! But her fear took precedence, and she remained silent.
“I did not pay for your upbringing so you could give yourself
to some gringo at the first opportunity,” he hissed, shaking her hard.
“Where is your sister?” he asked, releasing the pressure on her mouth.
“In the house…”
“And Burkhart?”
Tía hesitated, and immediately the painful pressure was back. This time his powerful hands circled her neck and began to squeeze the life out of her.
“Tell me,” he commanded. He realized with surprise and a certain amount of pride that he could kill her if need be.
Blackness flooded her senses. From a distance, Tía heard a shot. The sound broke the stillness so suddenly that birds, sleeping in trees overhead, were startled into flight. The pressure on her throat was gone as suddenly as it had come.
“I have no time. Tell me quickly.”
Tía’s mind was curiously occupied. She could think of nothing except Johnny! Had Morgan killed him? Was that what the shot meant?
“Tell me!” he growled, shaking her.
“He…he is in Tombstone,” Tía stammered. Surely it was all right to admit that much. Before Papa could reach there, Steve would be gone.
His hand fell away from her neck. “So, you have inherited Rancho la Reina. It is ironic that now we are both rich beyond our wildest dreams, you with your white man’s stolen ranch and me with the pompous gringo’s silver…Too bad you will not be able to enjoy it, niña.”
Papa’s tone was casual, almost as if they were old friends discussing items of common interest. A chill of apprehension sent a shiver through Tía’s body. Mateo’s dark eyes glittered in the dim light that filtered down through the trees. She’d been a fool to run off at the mouth. Papa would kill Steve if he found him. It would be her fault.
Mateo took her by the arm and dragged her toward the back wall of the compound. Tía struggled against him. “No…Papa!”
Unexpectedly he stopped. Listening, he shushed her with a warning hand and waited. Too close to them, a heavy masculine voice shouted, “Spread out!”
“I heard something just now!” a voice answered.
The sound of men running toward them caused Tía’s heart to lurch. Papa’s hand dropped away from her arm.
Tía turned toward the sound, then back toward papa, but he was gone; the shadows had engulfed him.
Other men shouted. Suddenly they were upon her. Surrounded by soldiers, all asking questions at once, Tía was filled with fear and the realization that to cause all this commotion, surely someone had died. Johnny hadn’t been wearing a gun. Was it Johnny, then? Were they looking for his killer?
Weak with dread, Tía allowed herself to be lead back toward the casa grande.
Chapter Thirty
Reaching the clearing around the casa grande and its companion buildings, Tía broke away from the soldiers. Ignoring their yells, she ran until she reached Johnny’s side.
Facing Captain Rutledge, his hands manacled behind his back, Johnny stood between two soldiers who held his elbows.
Pale of face and hugging her dressing robe, Andrea stood at Johnny’s side.
“I didn’t shoot him,” Johnny said firmly. “He was already down when I got here.”
“I suppose this isn’t your gun, either?” Rutledge asked gruffly.
“I picked the gun up off the ground because I wasn’t wearing one. I thought I might need it. Then I saw it was my gun.”
“Captain,” Tía blurted. “He was with me. He didn’t have a gun.”
Rutledge turned sharp eyes upon her. He seemed to see everything—her state of dishabille, her fear—but somehow nothing could cower her now.
“He was with you when the shot was fired?”
Tía swallowed. “Well, no, but—”
“Miss Marlowe, we all heard Todd yelling. There was a good two minutes between the yell and the shot. Brago had plenty of time to get his gun and shoot Todd.” Satisfied, Rutledge motioned his soldiers to take Johnny away.
“No…please,” Tía began, glancing at her sister for support. Andrea shot Tía a warning look.
“Take him to our camp,” Rutledge said to the men on either side of Johnny. He turned back to Tía. “I appreciate your willingness to help, but it isn’t necessary. We’ll hold him for Johnny Behan in Tombstone. Don’t concern yourself with Brago. He’s a bad penny. I’m sure this isn’t his first break with the law. Behan probably has a warrant for his arrest.”
“Please, could I speak to him privately?”
“No. It’s late, miss. Better go inside,” he said brusquely. Rutledge gave Andrea a look that clearly said Tía was being foolishly headstrong and should be given a talking-to.
“Captain, there was another man here,” Tía blurted. “A man who doesn’t belong here. He…he…threatened me. He was going to kidnap me. Only your men frightened him away. Maybe he or one of his band shot Mr. Todd.”
Sighing at so flagrant a fabrication, Rutledge shook his head. “Miss Marlowe, Brago and Todd were sworn enemies. This was a long-standing feud. Todd came here to kill Brago. Unfortunately, Brago got him first.” Impatiently he turned to motion his men away with Brago. “Take him.”
“Captain,” Andrea interposed, “please let her speak to Mr. Brago. I also need to discuss some matters with him. He is my foreman. With my brother away, you can see my problem.” The lies came easily out of her mouth. It seemed wiser not to confuse Rutledge with the truth at a time like this.
Rutledge liked quick resolutions, but he didn’t want to alienate the Burkharts. He turned to the soldiers flanking Johnny. “Stay with him,” he said. Bowing to Andrea, he stalked over to where two soldiers knelt beside Morgan Todd. Andrea followed him.
“How is he?” Rutledge asked.
The soldier looked up. “Bleeding heavy. He needs a doctor.”
“Captain,” Andrea said quickly, “Carmen is good with injuries. Perhaps she could take care of him tonight.”
Puffing out his chest, Rutledge shook his head. “These men are professional soldiers, Miss Burkhart. They’ve seen an injury or two in their time. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you it isn’t necessary.”
Andrea watched as the men placed Morgan on a makeshift stretcher and carried him off in the direction of the soldier’s camp. If all he had between him and death was Rutledge’s concern, Andrea knew he didn’t stand a chance. Rutledge didn’t like Morgan any more than he liked Johnny.
Masking her growing anxiety, she returned to Tía’s side. Strain apparent in her face, Tía stood close to Johnny. Andrea didn’t like the way her sister pressed so close to Johnny. To her the man looked too much like Papa. He would be nothing but trouble to Tía. Poor misguided child. She wanted to reach out and pull her sister into her arms, but she only stationed herself between Tía and the soldiers who guarded Johnny from a distance of five feet.
At Andrea’s approach, Tía stopped whispering in Johnny’s ear and looked over, pleading for more time. Andrea ignored the unspoken request. She had to know.
“Tía, you said someone tried to take you away.”
The look of mingled fear and shame Tía shot her was answer enough. “El Gato Negro,” she whispered.
Johnny, his dark eyes narrowing, turned to look at Tía. “He came here for you?”
“I don’t know if that’s why he came here, but he tried to take me with him. The soldiers ran up, and he took off, probably over the wall.”
“Should we tell Rutledge?” asked Andrea.
“I doubt he’d hear it,” Johnny reasoned.
He turned to Tía. “Tell me what happened.”
Tía told him everything she could remember.
“He said silver, not just money?” Johnny asked.
“Yes.”
“He said pompous gringo? You’re sure?” He turned to Andrea. “I think Steve is in grave danger.”
“But why?”
“Russ Sloan is the one man in these parts who perfectly fits the bill. And he was leading a mule train carrying a lot of silver. If Sloan didn’t make it, there’s a good chance Steve won’t, e
ither.”
“Oh, no!” Andrea cried, realizing all her apprehensions about the trip were validated. “What can we do?”
“We can try to warn him,” he said, remembering Tía’s earlier suggestion.
Andrea blanched. The thought of sending a lone rider out at night…“Is it safe? I mean…”
“I don’t know. Morgan made it through. It’s our only chance.”
“What about you?”
“There’s nothing you can do for me now. This is the chance Rutledge has been waiting for.”
“I’ll send to Tombstone for an attorney. Steve can bring one back with him. We’ll…”
A smile flitted across Johnny’s dark face. Cold fingers wrapped themselves around Tía’s heart. Rutledge did hate Johnny. She’d seen proof of that at the dinner table. Helpless and manacled, Johnny didn’t have a chance. Rutledge could keep him, and if Morgan Todd died, they could hang him.
Defiantly, Tía stepped close to Johnny, went up on tiptoe, and pulled his head down to kiss him. All that mattered was that he was in danger. Holding his head, moving her lips softly against his, trying to memorize that fierce, sweet thrill that washed through her when he touched her, she lost track of where they were, the soldiers watching, Andrea…
“Hell!” One of the men grabbed Johnny by the arm and pulled him away. “Come on, Casanova!” he growled. Turning Johnny roughly, they led him away.
Andrea put her arm around Tía protectively. “Come inside, baby. He’ll be all right,” she said. “Come along now. I need to write a letter to Steve. We’ll get that done, and then we can send a messenger to warn him.”
Andrea surprised Tía with her apparent understanding. Maybe her sister had decided Johnny wasn’t so bad. Or else being in love had mellowed her.
At the back door Tía stopped and looked around the empty dining room. A strange sense of foreboding prickled at her consciousness. It wasn’t like Judy to miss any type of excitement. “Have you seen Judy?”
“She’s probably in her room.” Glancing around to be sure they were alone, Andrea pulled Tía inside and closed the door. “It was Papa, wasn’t it?”
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