Rosa’s lips were amused as she opened her cigarette case and selected a corked-tip. “Go on, Lyn,” she urged. “Don’t let the brute have the last word.”
“Both of you leave Uncle Ricky alone!” Leoni snuggled up against her uncle and pressed a fawning head to his sleeve. “He’s nice and he smells of smoke.”
“Flattery will get you somewhere, little one,” he smiled. “On that fairground contraption, no doubt, where either your lunch or your governess will turn on me.”
Rosa grinned and shrugged a shoulder at Lyn. “He does what he wants to and never listens to reason, so be resigned, my dear.”
Which was all very well, thought Lyn.
The rodeo was in full swing when they arrived. Rick couldn’t find a space in which to park the large car, so he dropped off his passengers and drove back towards the town centre, where he might just squeeze the Mercedes in. Leoni watched sulkily as her knight-errant drove off, only perking up when Rosa spotted an ice-cream stand and marched her over to it. “He will come back?” Leoni pleaded.
“Yes, magpie. He won’t miss seeing the fun.”
“Is he riding any of the broncos?” Lyn asked.
“Not Rick!” Rosa laughed gaily. “He’s much too adult and sure of himself to need to show off. Bronco busting is for boys at heart, and my brother is one hundred per cent proof man!”
But a couple of Julio’s cowhands were competing in the rough-riding ring, and Lyn eventually found herself jammed with Leoni in a hot, yelling crowd while Rosa fought her way down to the split-rail fencing around the dirt compound. There she stood in conversation with one of the local ranchers, Cort Langdon, a leathery, deliberate kind of man with a shock of fair hair burned wheaten by his years on the open range.
Then he and Rosa disappeared, and Lyn’s right hand became disengaged from small sticky fingers. Leoni had slipped away and Lyn felt a thrill of panic as she gazed around her, searching for a flash of poppy-red. Rosa, who knew her small niece so well, had insisted that she be clad as brightly as possible, in case she wandered off. Now she had, and Lyn pushed through the crowd, alarmed, and in a temper. Leoni was a parcel of mischief to take anywhere! She needed to be put on reins!
Twenty minutes later Lyn was still searching for the missing child. Rosa was nowhere to be seen, and had probably gone off to one of the refreshment tents to have a drink with her friend Cort. The heat was intense and thick with animal smells. Dirt was scuffed up in clouds by the feet of passers-by and Lyn noticed with despair a splodge of Leoni’s tutti-frutti on her dress, and a thick layer of dust on each of her fawn sandals. She thought of Rick’s remark about her clothes, and was irritated that he should be right and that canvas trousers and a cotton shirt would have been far more appropriate.
But even as she frowned, she wished he would suddenly appear so she could unload her anxiety about Leoni on to his broad shoulders. In a mood of despair she paused between the canvas walls of a sideshow tent, there to droop a little and to try and cool down. A man strolled out of the tent entrance, his strides abruptly checked as he caught sight of Lyn’s leaf-green figure in the alleyway between the tents. He stared at her, and she recognized him as the cowhand who had caught so insolently at her filly’s reins and asked her for a date.
The spurs rang at the high heels of his riding boots and he came into the shadows towards her.
“Howdy, miss!” the cowboy greeted her. “I’m sure surprised to see you on your lonesome. You and the kid are a regular pair of Siamese twins as a rule.”
Lyn didn’t like his smile, but she was desperate for help. “I - I’ve lost Leoni!” she burst out. “I’d be terribly grateful if you’d help me look for her. I don’t know my way around the rodeo grounds and I keep hurrying about in circles a-and the time is getting on—”
“You do sound in a fix, honey.” The cowboy moved closer and stood with an arm outstretched to the canvas wall beside Lyn, and involuntarily she drew back from his nearness. But as she withdrew he advanced, and his eyes were fixed upon her lips. “I’ll tell you what, little girl, you give me a kiss and I’ll help you look for the boss’s kid.”
Lyn’s eyes widened indignantly. “What do you take me for?”
“The sweetest dish that’s come my way in "a long while.” Suddenly he had dropped both arms about her slim figure. ‘‘C’mon, I don’t want to rough you up—” Lyn felt his tightening arms and her own stab of panic, and she also felt the give of the canvas wall against which he held her. She jerked back, forcing him to take a step forward, and the next instant their combined weights were resting against the canvas, causing it to sag inwards. Automatically, as Lyn had hoped, the cowboy put forward a hand to steady himself and she broke out of his relaxed embrace and fled along the alley. She swerved into a nearby refreshment tent and at once her eyes found and fixed upon a tall, black-haired figure who stood out boldly in the crowd, a cigar clamped between his teeth and his gaze bent upon the vivid, laughing face of Glenda Martell.
CHAPTER V
Lyn hesitated to interrupt Rick while he was in conversation with Glenda, but this was an emergency and she twined between tables and chattering groups of people and laid a quick, slim hand upon Rick’s brown arm. He swung at once in her direction and his eyes flicked over her, taking in her look of agitation and her rather wilted appearance.
“Rick—” she spoke his name with a hint of pleading she would have despised at any other time - “thank goodness I’ve found you! I’ve lost the run of Leoni and I’m worried stiff.”
He studied her a moment longer, then a smile of mockery edged his mouth. “I shouldn’t worry too much,” he said. “Leoni is better able to take care of herself than you will ever be.”
“That’s beside the point,” Lyn protested. “And you needn’t be so unfeeling and rude!”
“It’s how you think of me, is it not?” He arched a black brow sardonically. “Anyway, before we go looking for the baggage you had better have a drink.”
“A lime crush will do.” She was parched, otherwise she would have told him what to do with his drink.
“With a finger of gin in it, I think.” He strode in the direction of the bar, his cigar jutting aggressively.
Burning with resentment, Lyn met the inquisitive sea-green eyes of Felipe Martell. Glenda introduced him to Lyn - a rakish, good-looking man with ruddy lights in his brown hair and a grin of amusement on his mouth as he shook hands with Lyn.
“You look limp as a cotton glove, sweetie.” Glenda indicated a chair. “Sit down and get your breath.”
Lyn obeyed, noticing at the same time how crisp Glenda looked in a checked shirt and blue jeans ... how tacky she made Lyn feel as her gaze dwelt on the stain which Leoni’s strawberry ice had left on her green dress.
“Drink up!” Rick appeared and planted a glass in her hand, and he watched narrowly while she emptied it.
“Is that better?” he demanded.
“Yes - thank you.”
“Go easy on her, old man,” drawled Felipe. "The girl has had a scare.”
“If I know that niece of mine she isn’t irretrievably lost,” Rick said crisply. “Do you want to stay here with Glenda while I look for the young monkey?” he demanded of Lyn.
“No She stood up. “It’s my duty to look for her as well. I was the one who lost her.”
“I’d say she lost you. Come along!”
Hating him for his callous disregard for her feelings, Lyn followed his tall, striding figure from the tent, leaving behind the laughter of Glenda Martell. It would amuse Glenda to see her treated by Rick as an irresponsible child!
Inevitably they found Leoni where there were small animals, as Rick had known instinctively. Some paint ponies were part of one of the sideshows and the child had inveigled their owner into letting her go backstage to pet them. Once installed she had made herself at home with them for the afternoon.
Rick’s trace of anger passed like smoke over her dark head. She asked him calmly if he would buy her the poni
es. “I’ll buy you a cage, you monkey, and keep you in it!” He tucked her beneath his arm and marched with her out of the tent, her brown legs kicking away like piston rods. Lyn followed, and as Leoni howled like a banshee she was uncomfortably aware of the amused glances thrown at herself and Rick by people passing by. They, evidently thought that she and Rick were the parents of the little hellion! She heard Rick laugh grimly as the thought crossed his mind.
For the remainder of their stay at the rodeo he took firm charge of both Leoni and Lyn. Feeling certain that he would have preferred the more worldly company of Glenda and Felipe, Lyn suggested in a while that he rejoin them.
“And take the chance on Leoni giving you the slip again?” he asked, black eyebrow quirked in that infuriatingly superior way. And then as if to rub it in that he was in charge, he took Leoni on the helter-skelter, and the glint burned very blue in his eyes when they came off and the child’s stomach wasn’t in the least disturbed.
As the afternoon waned and Leoni grew tired, Rick sought out Rosa and learned that she had accepted an invitation to dine at Cort Langdon’s place. Rick didn’t mention that Lyn had lost Leoni for a while, and for that she was grateful. Cort gave them a lift to where he had parked the Mercedes and they drove home.
The sun was setting over the mountains and the sea, and Lyn was enthralled by the beauty of it, her arms holding Leoni who had fallen asleep.
“She would have been better on the back seat,” Rick remarked.
“She isn’t all that heavy and I don’t mind holding her.” A flush stung Lyn’s cheeks - today, it seemed, she could do nothing right in his estimation.
“I meant,” he rejoined, “that you must be feeling a trifle tired yourself. Rodeos can be exhausting, especially to a newcomer. How long is it now since we first drove along this road together?”
“Five weeks.” She recalled how nervous she had been, now as the white walls of the hacienda came into view she felt a surge of affection for the place. Here, she realized, she had found a measure of relief from heartache. In having charge of a lively child; in worrying over Concetta, and battling in small ways with Dona Estella ... and Rick. The days had passed eventfully, and the days ahead would rush towards the time of her departure.
Rick would depart, as well, for faraway Spain. And Rosa would return to New York. Only the Hacienda Rosa would be left untouched in its strong, serene beauty by their coming and their going.
Lyn put Leoni to bed, then after dinner she went to her room for her jacket and took a quiet stroll to Cypress Ridge ... the place where the moon rose so high and where the cliffs dropped so steeply to the sea.
The big Monterey stars scattered a silver radiance across the sky, while the evening dews drew a rich fragrance from the foliage which had burned under a hot sun all day. A welcome breeze fanned Lyn’s cheeks and set the sage rustling. Just a few steps away a clump of twisted cypresses bent over the cliffs, and the murmur of the sea arose from Spanish Cove.
Lyn’s strung nerves began to quieten, only to tauten a minute later. Among the stars overhead the lights of an aeroplane were suddenly a gemmed blur of red and green, while for a few seconds the sound of the jet engines was clearly audible. A tide of loneliness rose in Lyn’s heart as she listened; she ached for the lost joys of loving arms around her, kisses from loving lips warm against her throat.
Fiercely she thrust the memory from her and stepped beneath the shadow of the cypress trees. Now she could see below the horseshoe cove where the starlight distorted the shapes of rocks and trees, and where the sobbing of the surf was like the sound of someone in deep distress. It was only by degrees that she felt cold fingers stealing about her heart, while her hand crept to her throat as she stared down into the shadowy, eerie cove and remembered that the place was believed to be haunted ... by a woman who pulled herself out of her restless bed in the ocean to sit again on the rocks and await the lover who had betrayed her.
Lyn told herself she was being fanciful ... there wasn’t anyone down there!
But there was! She saw a woman’s long hair fluttering in the sea breeze, and a filmy dress panel lifted and fell like a restless wing. Pale in colour ... like the soft gold chiffon Concetta had been wearing when she had come to her daughter’s room to say goodnight!
Lyn braced herself and made her way down the cliff steps. She stepped cautiously across the soft sand towards that motionless female figure, seated on one of the rocks at the edge of the cove. The woman was gazing intently at the ocean, and Lyn had drawn close to her when she slowly turned her head. Lyn felt a thrill of fear at the expression of animosity which leapt into the dark eyes.
“What do you want?” Concetta demanded. “Are you spying on me?”
“No, Mrs. Corderas.” Lyn’s voice shook just a little. “I saw you down here alone and I thought you might like someone to keep you company.”
“But I am not without company.” Concetta gave a strange, husky laugh. “I have the company of my thoughts.”
And they were not good ones, Lyn realized, a pulse beating with nervous quickness in her throat as she wondered how she was going to persuade this unhappy woman to return to the hacienda. She was without the physical strength to force her to walk up all those steps, and could only hope to talk her out of the dark mood which had brought her down here.
“Please go away and leave me alone.” Concetta had returned her gaze to the ocean, a sad and lonely figure, strands of her loosened hair blowing fretfully in the eddies of wind off the moving water.
Lyn approached her and gently touched her shoulder. “You will catch a chill if you sit down here without a coat, Mrs. Corderas.”
“What does it matter?” Concetta’s voice held a bitter note. “If I should catch a chill and die of it, Julio will be free of me. He will be able to take another wife - a stronger person than I, who will give him sons.”
“Mrs. Corderas, please don’t talk like that!”
“It is what he wants! I have known since my son died and Julio learned that I could never give him another child. He will never suggest a divorce, but if I should die—”
“You really mustn’t talk so morbidly,” Lyn pleaded. “I’m sure your husband would be most troubled if he knew you were upsetting yourself in this way. He’s an intelligent, kindly man, who certainly cannot hold it against you that – that—”
“I am no further use to him as a woman!” Concetta flashed. “He is virile enough to father a dozen sons, and he hates me for the way I am!”
Concetta was growing hysterical, and alarm clutched at Lyn. “I really think we should go back to the hacienda, Mrs. Corderas. You’re tired. You need a good night’s sleep.”
“In my empty bed,” Concetta said, in an infinitely sad voice. “The hunger and the laughter of love, those we had at one time. Now only the weeping is left and I am indeed tired. I want to close my eyes and not have to open them to see the reproach deep in Julio’s eyes.” A tremor shook her body, and relief shot like an arrow through Lyn when she caught the crunch of footsteps on the cliff steps and a quick glance showed her a tall figure striding across the sands. Rick’s glance dwelt unsmilingly upon her worried face, then he bent over the woman beside her.
“Come along, Concetta.” He drew his sister-in-law to her feet. “The tide will be turning soon.”
Concetta gazed up into his face, and Lyn herself was startled by the sternly kind look that made him seem a pillar of strength and understanding for a woman to cling to. Concetta let him lead her to the cliff steps, where in her weariness she stumbled. At once he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the headland. Lyn followed, all the way to Concetta’s bedroom, where Rick left her for Lyn to help.
“You are kind,” Concetta murmured, her dark hair spread against her pillow. “Both you and Rick are kind to me.”
Lyn waited until Concetta fell asleep, then she turned out the lamp and quietly left her room. It was the first time Lyn had thought of Rick as a kind man, and the thought made her feel rest
less. She entered her own room and wandered out on to the veranda that stretched from room to room along the back of the house. Moths flitted about on mysterious errands, and the low, regular grating of the crickets was like night’s pulse audibly beating.
In a while she heard a car pull to a standstill beyond the outer door of the hacienda, a man called goodnight, then the tall, slender figure of Rosa appeared in the courtyard. She came across to the veranda stairs and was halfway up them when she spotted Lyn.
“Hi there!” She came to where Lyn stood. “It isn’t a night for sleeping, is it?” Rosa opened her cigarette case, lit up, and expelled smoke into the scented night air. The sound of Cort Langdon’s car faded away and the crickets were in command again, filling the night with their chirring.
“Did you enjoy the rodeo?” Rosa lounged with her back to the veranda rail of wrought iron.
They talked of the rodeo for a while, and Lyn confessed that she had lost Leoni for an hour and that Rick had come to the rescue and found her. “Is he ever at a loss?” Lyn murmured.
“If he ever fell madly in love he might be.” Rosa was silent for a few moments, then she said, in a rather strained voice: “Night time is eminently suitable for exchanging confidences, isn’t it? Daylight is too probing. It shatters the intimacy which belongs to night like the stars.”
“Is there something you would like to tell me?” Lyn asked quietly.
“May I?” Rosa tipped ash over the veranda rail, and then the end of her cigarette was a bright orange eye for a long moment. When she spoke her voice was faintly husky. “Once again tonight Cort Langdon asked me to marry him - but I’m in love with someone else. He’s the owner of the magazine, and the publishing company for which I work. He’s also a married man.”
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