by Jane Archer
"You can't run in there, Miss Alexandra," Cookie hissed in her ear. "They'd shoot you down. Look, there's only three mustangs tied out front so there's probably only three inside. That's the Bar J buckboard they've got too—planning to stow the loot in it, I bet. They weren't planning for much trouble up here. Thing to do is wait them out. Can't go storming inside.
"Can you handle a rifle?"
"Yes," Alexandra whispered, taking it in her hand.
"Good. Now, I'll cover the front door. You take the kitchen door. When they come out we'll get them."
Alexandra ran around to the back of the hacienda, after seeing Cookie take his position behind the buckboard near the front door. There was no cover near the kitchen door except for the old waterwell. She crouched down behind it, bracing the rifle on the well, aiming it and with all her senses on the kitchen door.
Suddenly Alexandra heard the sharp click of a hammer being drawn back into firing position. The sound was close to her left ear—too close. The cold steel of a rifle barrel kissed her cheek and she heard a heavy voice say, "You should not play with guns, chica. Someday they might hurt you bad. Throw your gun down the well, won't you please? For Jose?" he teased. Then his voice lost its humor and became hard and deadly as he added one final word, "Now."
Alexandra had no choice. She slowly edged the gun forward until it toppled into the well. It clattered downward and she heard a splash.
"Thank you, señorita. Now stand up and walk slowly ahead of me to the kitchen door," he ordered. She did. Once there he tapped softly on the window and soon the door was opened from the inside by another grinning Mexican.
He pulled her inside, letting his rough hands run up and down the smooth skin of her arms. She tried to shrug him off, but he only tightened his grip as he dragged her into the main room. Another man awaited them there. He walked up to Alexandra while one bandito kept the gun on her and the other held her to him, his hands moving up her shoulders, finding the bare skin exposed by the low cut blouse.
She was determined to show no fear and looked boldly back at the bandito who stood before her. She could smell his animal body heat and the stench of many weeks without soap and water. Grinning, he swept off his wide sombrero, revealing black oily hair.
His two coal-like eyes raked her body. "We are glad you have joined us, señorita. And now, should you not call to your old friend outside to throw down his gun and come on in to our little party? Eh?"
"Never!" Alexandra exclaimed.
"Oh? Then you would see him die?"
Alexandra's mind whirled. But what choice did she have? And so she called out to Cookie who reluctantly threw down his sixshooter and walked inside, his hands reaching for the sky.
"Now, muchachos, we will have our fun," the leader said to his men as he grinned at Alexandra. "This is much trouble, chica, to get you for Pecos, and we should have a little reward, don't you think?"
"No! You're all madmen. And you'll all be dead as well. Jake and Lamar are on their way."
"I think not, pretty gringa. Pecos keeps them busy tonight."
"You're mistaken—" Alexandra started, but yelped in pain as the bandito holding her suddenly pinched her nipple. Furious, she kicked out at him, striking his shin. He dropped her arms to grab the injured leg and she turned on him, pummeling him with her fists.
Cursing, the leader grabbed Alexandra, slapping her cruelly back and forth across the face. The heavy blows quickly subdued her and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Then he dragged her toward the table, calling out orders to his two men. They quickly tied up Cookie, leaving him so he could see the table.
The leader swept everything off the table onto the floor, then threw Alexandra on top of it. She struggled, trying to get away, but the other two banditos were there to help. One grabbed her struggling hands, pulling them up over her head, while the other secured her ankles, pulling her legs apart. Alexandra screamed, writhing desperately on the hard tabletop as her captors grinned at her, showing tobacco stained teeth. She shuddered in revulsion and screamed again. Surely someone would hear her cries for help.
The leader slapped her again, causing more blood to run from her swollen, bruised lips. Alexandra could feel the salty taste of her own blood as it ran into her mouth. But she didn't scream out any more for her throat was raw. She struggled against the hands holding her down, but her efforts were feeble now.
When he saw he had her restrained, the bandito leader got onto the table, his swollen, straining manhood freed of his pants. The banditos urged him on as he leaned over Alexandra with his large knife, and ripped open her blouse, exposing her soft, white breasts, the nipples an inviting pink in the soft lamplight. They raved with lust, almost unable to wait their turn. She was a beauty! A gringa beauty! They'd had few turns on a pale gringa and they wanted this one badly. The leader reached down, covering Alexandra's breasts with his filthy brown hands and squeezed, causing her to writhe in pain and revulsion. He laughed cruelly, then stood up again, his staff even more distended, wanting his men to appreciate his virility. He moved to Alexandra's parted legs, stepping inside with his large, booted feet. Then he brandished his knife again. He leaned down, thrust the gleaming blade under the fabric of her skirt and cut. Savagely, he tore off her panties, exposing her completely.
He shouted, then fell to his knees as the other two banditos ogled Alexandra. He forced her to accept the brazen tongue that plunged into her unwilling mouth. She struggled under his onslaught, trying to throw him off, but he merely growled deep in his throat and pressed himself against her.
Suddenly, the clink of spurs could be heard above the din in the room. The cold deadly voice of Jake called out, "You're a dead man, hombre."
It all happened fast. The leader jumped up from Alexandra, going for his gun as the other two banditos ran from the room toward the kitchen. There was an explosion of firing guns and the leader fell back onto Alexandra, spilling his warm blood down her naked body. She looked at him, horrified, as Jake and Lamar ran out of the room after the other two men. There were sounds outside: guns banging loudly, horses neighing, then the sound of pounding hoofs, retreating further and further away.
Jake and Lamar ran back into the room, hoisting the dead man off Alexandra's body. They carried him outside where they dumped him in the dirt away from the hacienda.
By the time they returned, Alexandra had hastily wrapped an Indian blanket around herself and was trying to untie Cookie who watched her with a crooked smile. She was bloody, cut, bleeding, and scratched; her hair was matted, but she was oblivious to everything as she struggled with the hard knots. Jake walked over to her, his face set in hard, unrelenting lines. He was dirty, too, his clothes torn, and blood trickled down from a cut on his face. But he was unaware of all this as he stood over Alexandra, determined to give her comfort but not knowing quite how.
Lamar moved more quickly, pushing away Alexandra's hands as he quickly began untying Cookie. Jake touched her arms, drawing her to him, his eyes a soft, concerned blue.
She looked up at him, then jerked away.
He was surprised, his face questioning as he said, "Alexandra? It's over. The banditos are all gone."
"Thanks, I'm glad," she said coldly, moving away from him.
Jake let his hands drop to his sides, watching her, confusion evident on his face.
"Let the others that got away be, Jake. They didn't harm me."
"They didn't, didn't—"
"I wasn't raped. You got here in time."
"I was afraid we'd be too late, Alexandra," Lamar said, his voice troubled.
"It's all right now. The herd?"
"We stopped the banditos. They got close, but we killed some, ran the others off. They won't be back soon," he said drily, "not after that licking."
"Good," Alexandra said, smiling softly at Lamar and Cookie. "Some of the cowboys must be hurt. Bring them up here and I'll see to them. Cookie can help me."
"You bet, Miss Alexandra. You get dressed and
I'll start in the kitchen," he said as he got up and walked toward the kitchen.
Alexandra turned toward Jake and said flatly, "I'd better start with you."
"Take care of yourself, Alex," he said, looking at her closely, "you need some help, too."
"I guess you're right," she agreed reluctantly. "Do we have anything to use for bandages."
"Sheets will do," Lamar said. "Look, I'll go back for the men and send them here in relays." The strain between Jake and Alexandra was obvious and he wondered what had happened. He'd expected to see her throw herself into his arms after he had rescued her. Instead, she seemed cooler than ever.
"I'm going with you," Jake said. "I'll help there while the others come in."
Alexandra turned away, feeling a hard knot con-strict her chest. She walked quickly to their bedroom, and washed off the blood and dirt from her body. The cuts and scratches burned, but they weren't deep and would heal soon enough. She put on her riding habit, glad that it covered her wounds completely, then pulled on her boots. Although the night was warm, she felt chilled and was glad for the heavy clothing. She began brushing her hair, trying to get the tangles and weeds out. It was hopeless! Finally, she plaited it, then threw it over her shoulder. She didn't have time to worry with her hair. She scrubbed her face in a basin of water, but it didn't help her puffy, discolored lips. Sighing as she took a last look at herself, she hurried out of the room.
She quickly got out the sheets and began tearing them into strips. When this was done, she joined Cookie in the kitchen. He had a kettle of water boiling and in another kettle, he was busily making a stew. Coffee was also brewing and he'd gotten out a bottle of tequila.
He grinned at her when she entered, then said, "You look a sight better, Miss Alexandra. Those boys sure arrived just in time. Sorry I wasn't more help to you."
Alexandra patted his arm gently. "No one could have done more, Cookie. It's all ended well. We just have to get those cowboys repaired so they can make the drive."
The first relay of cowboys came in, at first sheepishly showing their wounds, then with more abandon as they realized the attention they got from Miss Alexandra with each wound. They'd never fought so well, or so hard, or had such bad wounds. Alexandra was regaled with stories of their daring. They'd never enjoyed the aftermath of a fight more. She soon had them bandaged, fed, tequila and coffee poured down them; they were ready for another fight.
About dawn, Alexandra and Cookie sat down at the table to rest and eat. Both showed the ravages of the night before, but still they were both light-hearted for they had helped save the Bar J. They heard more horses outside and in a moment Jake and Lamar entered, looking exhausted.
Jake smiled tentatively at Alexandra as he walked in, his hat in his hand, cursing himself inwardly for feeling like a young school boy with his first girl. There was something wrong with Alexandra, but he couldn't figure it out. He wanted to part friends. He liked her spunk and she'd helped to save the ranch last night, even endangering her own life. Of course, in a way she'd been the cause of it, too. He knew he'd be better off when she was out of his life and he wished he could be more pleased about their parting in San Antonio.
Looking from Alexandra to Cookie, Jake said, "The herd's okay. We'll point them toward San Antonio tomorrow at first light."
Cookie grinned, then said, "Great. I'll be ready. Soon as you two are fed, I'll get back down to the outfit. Those boys will be hungry again in no time."
Alexandra stood up. "Let me fix those wounds for you, Jake."
Alexandra began to wash Jake's face. She tried not to notice the hard lines etched there that had become so familiar to her, or the blond hair that had formed a stubble of beard. Fortunately, the cut was not deep and would leave no scar, she thought, then turned her thoughts away from his future. She'd never see the wound healed.
"Take off your shirt, Jake," she said softly, trying to still her heart as it suddenly began beating faster. She touched his golden brown skin as she washed the dried blood away from the cuts. He caught his breath, his muscles tightening, and she knew it was painful for him. She wrapped white cloth around the wounds to protect them from dirt.
"That's the most I can do. You'll be fine."
And before she'd had time to move away from him, he put his large strong hand on her arm and said, "Thanks, Alex. You proved that you're a true Texan last night."
She jerked away from him and stood up. "I'm from New York and I'd have done as much for anyone who needed help," she said abruptly, then turned and left the room, so he could not see her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Chapter 23
Later that morning there was a furious clatter of horsehoofs that came to an abrupt stop just outside the hacienda.
Alexandra was instantly alert. She knew it couldn't be anyone from the Bar J. They were all down with the herd.
In the main room she grabbed up a rifle, checked to make sure it was loaded, then calmly walked outside. The rider still sat on his horse and the sight that approached him did not make him anxious to get down. He almost didn't recognize Alexandra as she walked toward him, the gun aimed and handled surely. Her face was darker and her green eyes were hard, sharp in the morning sun.
As their eyes met over the muzzle of her gun, he smiled shyly and said, "Surely you're not going to shoot me, Miss Alexandra, not when I've come to rescue you."
"Lieutenant Blake!" she said, realizing who the rider was. "Now what's this about rescuing me?" she asked, lowering the gun.
He got off his horse and strode over to her. "Miss Alexandra, you surely don't believe that I could have forgotten you and your plight here. I returned as quickly as I could after explaining the problem to the major."
"Thank you, lieutenant, but I've been all right, truly."
"You do want to leave, though, don't you?"
Alexandra felt her heart pound hard, knowing the answer she must give. "Yes, I want to leave," she whispered.
"Good! I'm mighty glad. I'll take good care of you, Miss Alexandra. I'll treat you like the lady you are," the lieutenant said happily.
"Thank you, Lieutenant Blake. I'm sure I can depend on you to be a gentleman."
"That you can, Miss Alexandra. But we'd better go now. They're down with the herd and if we leave now we'll get a good day's start on them if they decide to follow you."
"Oh, I don't believe they will, lieutenant. You see, they're due to point the herd for San Antonio tomorrow morning. Nothing would make Jake Jarmon abandon that herd. We'll be quite safe."
"Nevertheless, I'd feel better—"
"Very well. Why don't you water your horse while I get my things."
Lieutenant Blake watched her a moment as she turned and walked back toward the hacienda. She sure had changed, he thought. It must have been mighty rough on her, a girl so gently bred. Well, he'd take her out of all this. Take her back to civilization where she belonged and then court her, make her love him.
Alexandra did not linger in the hacienda. Her mind was made up and there was no turning back. She would rather leave Jake now, than have him leave her in San Antonio. Besides, here was the lieutenant, a handsome man, anxious to protect her. She would get him to marry her, be the father of her child. And he would never give her any trouble. She could control him. So, her problems were all solved by the timely arrival of Lieutenant Blake. Why, then, did she still feel the hard knot in the pit of her stomach and why did her heart ache so?
But she had no answers and refused to look for any.
She hurried into the bedroom she shared with Jake where she splashed cool water on her face and replaited her hair. She would have room for none of her clothing. The riding habit she wore would be fine for the trip. All she needed was some money which she took out of her valise and slipped into the pocket of her riding skirt. Lovingly, she picked up the Norwegian medallion and slipped it around her neck, tucking it safely inside. Every- thing else she would leave. Picking up her gloves and sombrero, she was ready to go.
Lieutenant Blake helped her up into the saddle of her horse, and they were on their way.
Lieutenant Blake knew his way, guiding Alexandra away from the hacienda all morning, taking her constantly east. The route was similar to the one they'd taken coming from Corpus Christi the first time, but Alexandra didn't realize this for the mesquite country all looked alike to her. In her rides over the Bar J she had not come this far east. She wouldn't mind staying in Brownsville for a while. She would be safe from Giles and Stan with the cavalry and Lieutenant Blake. Eventually she would go back to New York, but for the moment she didn't want to leave Texas. She didn't know what hold the hot, dry land had on her, but she felt as if they were kindred spirits.
The morning was long and Alexandra began to ache in her legs, her hips, her back as they continued to ride, always east away from the Bar J. She wasn't used to riding for such long periods and although she tried to keep up with the lieutenant who still sat his horse as if they were just beginning their ride, she finally called to him,
"Lieutenant Blake, please, can we rest? I'm exhausted."
He glanced over at her, frowning slightly. "I suppose so, Miss Alexandra, but we have a long way yet to go before we reach camp. I don't want to be caught by the Jarmons."
"I've told you, lieutenant. They aren't coming. We needn't rush so. Brownsville will still be there when we arrive."
He glanced at her closely, then shrugged before looking around them and heading his horse to a clump of mesquite. He stopped, then got down to help Alexandra off her horse. Her legs gave under her and she fell against him. He picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the slight shade and set her down, his face set in worried lines.
"Why didn't you say something sooner, Miss Alexandra? I didn't know. I'm so used to riding."