Touch a Wild Heart

by Vella Munn

  “Will you stop that! God! Why didn’t I tell you? Why didn’t I take my chances then?”

  Chela slid into her rocker But she didn’t tuck her feet up under her. She wanted to be able to scurry away should Magadan try to touch her. “Would it have made a difference?” she asked.

  “Probably.” Magadan reached into his pocket and pulled out a hefty envelope. “I might not be giving you this if I had.”

  Chela looked at the envelope as he placed it on her coffee table. “Kohl isn’t supposed to be getting in touch with me yet,” she pointed out, clinging to the hope that their conversation could remain impersonal.

  Magadan frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. “I tried to get in touch with Ortez this morning. He isn’t there. I think he’s on his way here with Kohl.”

  “Oh, so soon.” Chela frowned at the trepidation in her voice.

  Magadan leaned forward, studying her. “Have you changed your mind? Maybe you want out of this.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” she laughed bitterly. “You must know what he would do if I didn’t have his money ready for him.”

  “I’ll kill him if he touches you.” Magadan’s eyes glowed fiery lights for several heartbeats before relenting. “Look, you’re going to have to be very careful. There’s no telling what Kohl might do if he smells something.”

  “He already has, Magadan.” Chela laughed her bitter laugh again, thinking of her father’s alliance with the coyote and their threat to expose Lou as her father.

  “What do you mean?”

  It didn’t matter anymore, Chela told herself. There was nothing left to try to salvage between her and Magadan. “I mean, Kohl thinks he’s done what he needs to protect himself from me. He doesn’t need to resort to violence. Kohl has no reason to doubt that he’ll get his money from me.” She nodded at the envelope. “All I have to do is hand it over to him.”

  “Unless he asks for more.”

  That was a possibility Chela was well aware of. “Then we’ll give him more. After all, you’re a rich man,” she mocked. “You can come up with whatever amount he asks for. I just hope you’re as good at bringing him to justice as you are at providing money.”

  “You can’t forget it, can you, Chela?” Magadan asked, the challenge in his voice laced with sadness. “Is it such a crime to be rich?”

  “I never said it was a crime. Forget it, Magadan. We have nothing to talk about.” Chela hated the vindictiveness in her voice, but it was the only defense against pain she’d been able to find.

  Magadan shook his head. “You’re wrong about that. There’s one more detail we have to work out. The method of communication between us when Kohl gets in touch with you. I want to be there when that happens.”

  “How? I’m not going to let you stay here. Don’t even suggest it.”

  “I know, you’ve made that very clear. But there has to be a signal, some way of letting me know when Kohl contacts you.”

  “I’ll call you.”

  “Not good enough. I don’t want you alone here with him.”

  Chela knew she wouldn’t be alone. Her father would be there, too. “Whatever happens I can handle it,” Chela snapped bitterly. “You’re not talking to one of your laborers, Magadan. Don’t try to order me around. I’ve always been able to take care of myself.”

  “Maybe it’s time that changed. Chela, I’m not going to walk out that door and leave you to face this alone. I don’t care what you want. I’m getting in touch with the police, have them keep an eye on you.”

  “Why? So they can spy on me?”

  “Will you stop that! So they can protect you. Look.” Magadan fastened his eyes on her, the fire she’d seen before, glowing deep in the dark depths. “You need someone on your side. If you won’t have me, then it’ll have to be the police.”

  Chela shrugged, wanting to say things that would hurt him. “Go ahead. Everything we’ve done has been your way, on your terms. Why should it change now?”

  “That’s right.” Magadan got to his feet, his eyes boring a hole through her. “Why should things change now? They’re going to go my way. And when this is over, you and I are going to talk and not stop talking until we have everything straightened out.”

  “I don’t think so, Magadan,” Chela retorted with equal determination. “You can’t always have the upper hand. There’s a limit to your power whether you want to admit it or not. I have to deal with you until Kohl is brought to justice. After that? After that we have nothing in common.”

  “Nothing?” Before she could draw away Magadan took her hand. He drew her hand up to his chest and placed her palm against the exposure of flesh above the opening in his shirt. “Don’t try to lie to yourself, Chela. We shared something once. You can’t deny that.”

  “Can’t I?” She tried to pull away, denying her fingers the pleasure of feeling his flesh. “It was all a game with you. You wanted to see if you could fool the ignorant woman from the orchards. Maybe I was doing the same. Maybe I never felt anything for you.”

  “If I believed that, I wouldn’t fight for you.” Magadan brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it. “We’ll never know if there’s anything to salvage if we don’t try.”

  Magadan left then, left his words to echo in the room. Chela’s mind was filled with confusion. She had thrown enough hateful words at him to make him regret the day they’d met. What could possibly possess him to talk to a woman who wanted nothing to do with him? That’s what she wanted—wasn’t it? She wanted to forget his existence. Then why was she crying?

  The pain of tears filling her already pounding head was what forced Chela to fight for self-control. She was already half blinded from the headache that hadn’t stopped since she confronted Magadan the other day. Her head couldn’t stand any more. Chela shut her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Tears weren’t for independent women proud of their heritage. They were for weak children who leaned too much on others and depended not enough on themselves.

  A sound broke into her tangled thoughts, but she was slow to respond. She just wanted the world to go away.

  “Tears, Chela?”

  Chela strangled a scream. Standing in the doorway was her father. “What are you— Get out of here!”

  Lou Dye folded his arms across his chest. His arms found a resting spot on his belly. “I don’t think so. I’ve been waiting down the road, watching you for two days. Now it’s going to pay off.”

  For two days! How much did he know? “Why were you spying on me?” Chela managed as she fought to pull her senses together. “Did Kohl tell you to do that?”

  “It’s a good thing he did. Can you blame him for not trusting you, daughter?”

  Chela rocked to her feet, her hands balling into fists. “Don’t call me your daughter! It’s too late for that.”

  “What I call you isn’t going to change reality, Chela. Maybe it’s something neither of us has been eager to acknowledge, but it is reality.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with today. What are you doing here?” Her father looked older than she remembered. The power and arrogance she remembered from a few years ago when she watched him from afar seemed to have slipped. Perhaps bankruptcy had really destroyed him. “What do you want?”

  “Answers.” Lou closed the door behind him. “What was Joe Magadan doing here?”

  So he had seen Magadan, Chela acknowledged. “What do you care?”

  “Because that man ruined me. He lives in my house now. He’s taken what should be mine.”

  “You lost everything on your own. Your greed caught up with you,” Chela snapped back. The thought that her father had closed her in her house bothered Chela, but she wasn’t going to order him out, not until she’d learned more. “Don’t blame anyone else.”

  “Is that what Magadan told you? That he was there simply to pick up the pieces, take advantage of my misfortune? Don’t believe him.” Lou’s mouth tightened. “The man will lie about anything, anytime.�
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  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe me, daughter.” Lou’s eyes actually met hers for a moment. “I can understand the power a man like Magadan could wield over a woman like you. He has an intensity some people have mistaken for compassion. But watch him, Chela. He’ll bleed you and leave you the way he left me.”

  Chela clamped her hands over her ears. “What are you talking about? He isn’t like that.” She couldn’t decide why she was defending him. Her father was simply repeating accusations she’d just finished throwing at Magadan herself.

  “What do you know? What do you know about deceit and lies?” Lou folded his hands and leaned against the door. “Where do you think I got money for certain loans? From Joe Magadan the businessman. And when I began to have losses, when the orchard failed for two years in a row and I had nothing to send to the canneries, who do you think demanded his money back? Magadan wanted to see me ruined. Joe Magadan wanted all I owned for himself.”

  “You’re lying.” Chela’s hands over her ears weren’t enough. She could hear everything her father was telling her. “Magadan isn’t like that.”

  “Maybe not in bed, but he’s a ruthless businessman. He ruined me, Chela. He’s responsible for the bankruptcy. I’d still have the orchard if he hadn’t come after me. Put your trust in him, and he’ll ruin you, too. I—I begged for the time to get back on my feet. I could have gotten another loan so I could improve the orchard, but Magadan saw to it that no one would give me a penny.”

  Chela refused to think about that. Why should she believe anything her father told her? They had never spent an honest moment together. “Don’t talk to me about lies,” she spat. “You lied to your workers. You gave them empty promises instead of paychecks. It caught up with you. That’s why you lost everything. I’ve never spent a moment feeling sorry for you.”

  “Why was Magadan here today?”

  Chela blinked. She wasn’t ready for the quick switch in conversation. Of course, she couldn’t tell her father the truth. He’d tell Kohl and the coyote would bury himself before the law could touch him. Besides, Ortez was with him; that would place Ortez’s life in jeopardy. Chela took a calming breath and thought quickly. “Magadan, came to tell me I could have some of the furnishings in the house. He said he had no use for them, and Lou’s daughter might as well use them.”

  “Liar!” Lou pushed himself away from the door and brought himself inches away from her. “You’re lying to me, Chela.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Shut up!” Lou’s right hand snaked out and caught Chela on the face. The unexpected blow caused her to lose her balance and fall onto her couch. “I want the truth!” Lou screamed.

  Chela simply gaped at the man standing over her. Her father had slapped her! The disgust she’d felt for him all those years was a distant thing because she never came in contact with the man. Now he’d struck her, and all she could think of was the tide of hatred surging through her.

  “Let me tell you something, Chela,” Lou said when it was clear she was going to remain silent. “Magadan wouldn’t be offering you any furnishings because unless you told him, he doesn’t know you’re my daughter.”

  “He found out,” she said in a whisper that lacked the ring of truth.

  “You’re lying to me.” Lou grabbed a length of hair and hauled her into a sitting position. “Now, what was he doing here?”

  Chela’s mind whirled frantically within the confines of the trap she’d placed herself in. Magadan didn’t know! She scrambled for something to say to her father.

  “The money I have for Kohl,” she stammered. “It came from Joe Magadan. He—he was taking his payment.”

  Lou’s features underwent a slow but complete transformation. It went from challenging to a look of understanding and—was it resignation? “Why would you go to Magadan for money?” he asked, freeing her hair.

  “Who else has that kind of money?” Her head ached where he pulled her hair, and she could feel her cheek stinging, but she refused to touch those spots. “I was desperate. I went to him. He took what I had to offer in the way of payment.”

  She thought she saw a hint of doubt in Lou’s eyes. “So you’ve become Magadan’s lover? He paid for your services?”

  Chela recoiled from the trap she’d placed herself in, but there was no backing down now. She had to protect her true affiance with Magadan. Telling the truth now would endanger Ortez’s life. “Magadan doesn’t have to pay for any woman’s services,” Chela said, not understanding why she should be defending the man. “I was the one who came to him. What else was I going to do?” She dropped her eyes in a gesture she hoped signified both embarrassment and defeat.

  “Did you know Magadan had ruined me?”

  “No!” Chela spat. “How could I? I’ve never been privy to your dealings. I knew you’d declared bankruptcy, but I knew nothing of the reasons.” That was only partly the truth. She would have to be both deaf and blind not to know that Lou Dye was leaving an increasing pile of unpaid debts in his wake. Long before his downfall, she’d expected he’d be exposed.

  “That’s the way Magadan operates,” Lou pointed out. “He does everything under cover of darkness. And now you’re caught in his trap. So we have something in common after all, don’t we, Chela?”

  Her heart denied the accusation, but she kept that emotion to herself. “Are you going to tell Kohl?” The question was a dangerous one to ask, but she had no choice. Her father’s answer was essential to the success of the plan to trap the coyote.

  Her father appeared to be pondering the question. Finally he broke the silence. “Not now. I’ve fulfilled my obligation to Kohl. Why should I help him any more than I have?”

  “Thank you,” Chela muttered.

  “Don’t thank me. I’m not doing this out of any feelings for you. I’ll never see any of the money you’re going to pass on to Kohl. Why should I tell him anything.”

  Chela was confused. “Then why did you come here with him? Why did you threaten me with exposure?”

  In the space of five seconds, Lou’s face seemed to age five years. “I have my reasons. Don’t cross Kohl. He can destroy you, just as Magadan destroyed me.”

  Lou turned, opened the front door, and disappeared. Chela scrambled to lock it. She leaned her hot cheek against the solid wood, trembling from the aftereffects of her first true conversation with her father. He wasn’t going to tell Kohl that Magadan was involved. That should have filled her with relief, but relief was tempered by some of the other things Lou had said to her.

  Not for a moment did Chela believe her father was a helpless pawn trapped by Magadan’s greed. Lou had courted his own downfall by cheating his workers and reneging on his contract with the packing house. He hadn’t kept up his mortgage and loan payments with several banks. When Lou’s little empire came crashing down around him, he had no one to blame but himself.

  There was another consideration. It was possible that Magadan had been waiting in the wings, that he had seen Lou Dye teetering at the edge and provided that fatal push. Lou had said he owed Magadan money. It was possible that Magadan had refused to wait for payment and that was what had caused the final collapse.

  And if that was the way Magadan operated his business life, maybe it carried over to his personal life as well. Magadan had a deep animosity toward Kohl. For reasons Chela had never fully understood, Magadan wanted the coyote put out of business. Maybe Chela was truly no more than a means to an end.

  She didn’t want to believe that. God, anything but that! But there was no denying the facts. She had tried several times to tell him she wanted nothing to do with him, but Magadan had kept after her, trading on her sense of outrage of what Kohl stood for, and then cementing their alliance by the promise of something that had been missing from her life.

  Chela pushed her weary body away from the door and stumbled into the bathroom. She tried to focus on her swollen cheek, but the pain her father had inflicted was nothing compared to th
e pain her heart felt.

  Secrets! Magadan had had so damn many secrets! She had only one. She refused to acknowledge her father’s existence. Was it possible Lou was right, that Magadan didn’t know who her father was?

  It didn’t matter. Magadan had thrown a net over her without having to use her father. He’d offered her warmth and belonging, he’d offered her his body; she’d accepted it all too willingly. Magadan had very nearly gotten away with his deception. If Chela hadn’t found out who he was, she might at this moment be lying next to him.

  Even the truth hadn’t changed things. Chela was still committed to the pact she’d made with Magadan. She doubted he’d care that she’d agreed to meet with Kohl, not because she wanted to work hand in glove with Magadan, but because the safety of a young Mexican was at stake. For that, bringing Kohl to his knees was worth any cost to her.

  Chela would land on her feet. She’d gone through life alone. She knew how to do that simple thing. She had no further need for Joe Magadan.

  Then why were tears blurring her reflection in the mirror?

  For the next five days Chela drove herself at a killing pace. She doubled her efforts in the orchards to make sure that the new workers coming in for the harvest season knew of the migrant services in the valley. She met several new families and accompanied them to the schools so their children would be registered. It bothered her to know that these children would probably move on once the harvest had been completed, but at least they were assured of a few months of education here. A reporter from the local newspaper came out to interview her, and Chela spent extra time making sure the reporter was aware that migrant education went on both inside and outside the classrooms. She even convinced the reporter to let her add several paragraphs in Spanish in the hopes the article would reach migrants she didn’t know about.

  The work filled Chela’s days, and soccer games filled two more evenings, but there was still too much time left for her to be alone in her house. She longed to slam the door behind her, climb into her Jeep, and drive until she ran out of gas, but she couldn’t. She had no idea when Kohl would try to get in touch with her; she had to be accessible to him.