“Here’s the message,” he said coldly. “A nurse in Paris wrote you a letter your brother dictated, but you’re not going to get the letter until you get Coltrane in the sack.”
He paused to enjoy the look of longing and despair on her face. Cocky bitch. She deserved to be miserable. “He also says that if you don’t follow orders very carefully, he’s going to have your brother put out of his misery.”
Briana’s eyes widened. Surely, he wouldn’t… She shivered. She knew that he indeed would. She had no choice. To disobey Gavin meant death for Charles. Yes, Gavin was capable of carrying out his threat. Charles would die, and heaven only knew what Gavin would do to her.
“Tell him I will do as he asks, as soon as possible.” Her voice was barely audible.
“Good. And one thing more.” He was moving toward the door. “He says he wants to see you soon. Ladida will tell you when she’s going to slip something into Coltrane’s drink, and you’ll know that’s the night. Mason’ll slip in here.”
She shook her head. “Tell him to find another way, please. I’m afraid. Drugs are dangerous. I don’t want Colt hurt.”
“Ladida knows what she’s doing,” he scoffed. “Just do as you’re told.”
He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He winked. “One day, we’ll have all the time we need, you ’n’ me, and it’s gonna be so good. That’s a promise.” He left, closing the door behind him.
Silently Briana made a promise of her own. Never would she yield to Dirk Hollister.
Crossing to the open window, Briana stood and stared out into the night. Purple and black shadows fell across the grounds. It was a beautiful night. Warm. Mystical. She moved her fingertips up and down her bare arms. The touch of Dirk had made her feel un-clean. She was certain that Colt’s hands would feel gentle, tender, that she would revel in his touch.
Colt.
She could feel the stirrings of desire within him, yet there was also a fierce restraint, because he thought she was his blood kin. She could sense the maelstrom of emotions churning inside him, awesome in their intensity, overpowering.
On her part, there was, God forgive her, acceptance of the unforgivable. And regret—terrible regret. She could only hope everything here would be over quickly, so she could go home.
As she stood at the window, it began to seem to Briana that perhaps there was another way, a less hurtful way, to carry out Gavin’s orders. Maybe Colt could be made to think he had been intimate with his sister…without the actuality of the act. If he was drugged, his memory shadowed or even obliterated, he could be made to believe he’d done something he hadn’t really done.
For the first time in a long while, Briana began to feel less helpless, more independent. Maybe she didn’t have to do Gavin’s bidding after all…
Chapter Sixteen
Colt was irritable. He had overslept by a couple of hours, which was unlike him. Of all days to do so, he reproached himself.
When he’d dressed and gone out, he found that the wranglers had waited a little while for him to show up at the bunkhouse, figured he’d decided to do something else that day, and scattered to do other chores. That put Colt in a worse mood because those cows needed to be rounded up before they calved. Which meant, he guessed, that he had to do it by himself.
Carlota had hot coffee waiting for him, and steak and eggs. He waved the food away, gulped down the coffee, and told her, “I won’t be back for dinner, and I’ll probably be gone two or three days. Pack me some bacon and hardtack. That should do me. I can always shoot a rabbit,” he added, speaking to himself.
Then something almost surfaced in his mind, and he asked, “Carlota, is Ladida related to you?”
Looking wary, the housekeeper responded, “My niece, Señor Coltrane. Why? She hasn’t done anything wrong, has she?”
Colt shook his head, wondering why he’d brought it up.
In the stable, he frowned at the sight of Dani, grunted a greeting, then turned to see that his stallion, Pedro, was saddled and ready.
“I knew you’d be down sooner or later and want to get started quickly,” Briana said.
He nodded, quite taken aback. “Thank you. I’m sorry to be so late, but I overslept.”
He stuffed the burlap sack into a saddlebag, then led his horse from the stable.
Briana went to get Belle. She knew very well why he’d overslept. Ladida, whom she’d found early that morning, had been only too happy to brag about how good she was at making sleeping potions. Explaining that she used a mushroom, she emphasized how important it was to know exactly how much juice to extract.
“Too much,” she explained, “and the person will have nightmares, visions. When he wakes up, he’ll feel terrible, and he’ll wonder what has happened. But I mixed just enough juice with the juice of the sugarcane, so he’ll wake up feeling…just tired.”
“Is it dangerous?” Briana wanted to know.
Ladida shook her head. “Not if you know what you’re doing, and the amount I gave him last night was just right.” She grinned proudly.
Briana hated dealing with her, but Ladida was in Gavin’s pay and Gavin wanted her to help Briana, so what choice was there?
She nodded as Ladida slipped her a small packet. “All you have to do is put this in something he is drinking. Remember, it will sweeten his drink, so it is better to put it into something he expects to be sweet. He will become very relaxed, then very sleepy, and you should be able to do anything with him.”
Nodding her thanks, Briana had hurried outside to saddle her own horse and Colt’s.
Leading Belle from the stable, she called to Colt, “Wait! You know I’m going with you.”
Colt reined his stallion about, annoyed. “No, Dani, not now. I’m going out alone. I’ve got to round up those cows by myself and I won’t have time to look after you.”
“Who said you’d have to look after me?” Briana flared. “I can take care of myself. Besides, you need some help.”
“Help, yes,” he snapped, “not a soft-butted woman who’ll be screaming about saddle sores by sunset. I don’t have time for you now, Dani. Stay here.”
“No.”
He glared at her, but she was undaunted by his anger. “I have a right to go if I want to. Those cows are half mine now, whether you like it or not.”
This was not, she knew, endearing her to him. But she couldn’t wait until he was in a better mood. Charles’s letter was waiting. She had to follow Gavin’s orders—and fast.
Colt was in no mood for arguing. Dawn was now history and morning was fading fast. “No, damn it, I don’t want you along.”
Briana moved her horse to stand alongside his. She faced him, her chin lifted in stony defiance. “You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do around here, Colt. Like it or not, this ranch is half mine, and that means I’m as much the boss as you are. We’re wasting time arguing, so let’s just get moving.”
With a haughty toss of her head that sent her auburn hair flying, Briana nudged Belle into a gallop. She did not have to turn to see that Colt was right behind her, for the thudding of Pedro’s hooves on the ground echoed all around.
They rode out toward the northeast range. Neither spoke. It was a beautiful day. The sky was as brilliant a blue as the dazzling Mediterranean she so longed to see. Now and then a white cloud puffed its way along the horizon, the only break in a seemingly endless ocean above them.
She turned in the saddle to give him a pleading look.
“I really don’t like it this way, colt. I’ve told you I want to be your friend. Please believe it’s true.”
She continued to look at him appealingly for a few moments. When he did not speak, wouldn’t even look at her, she reluctantly turned around and let him be.
Colt stared at her back as she rode ahead of him. He watched as her firm, rounded bottom moved up and down in rhythm to the motion of the mare. He glanced away guiltily. She was his sister, damn it, and the sight of her trousers stretched against those
perfectly molded hips was making him swell with desire. Maybe, he told himself to assuage the guilt, maybe it wasn’t Dani he really wanted. Maybe he just had needs. Perhaps a trip into town on Saturday night would ease the tension.
There was a certain redhead at the Silver Star who was nice for a few hours of fun. She was no prostitute. Derita merely liked a man to satisfy her yen, and if a few dollars were left on the bedside table, fine, if not, she didn’t mind. Colt liked Derita because she did not want anything besides lovemaking. She gave as good as she got. She was not interested in manipulating a man into marriage.
He must, he told himself fervently, be forever on guard against any woman’s wiles. He had a lot of bad, bitter memories where females were concerned, and he figured he’d best concentrate on a future without complications from the opposite sex.
They rode on in silence, each lost in brooding thought, until they reached the boulders at the base of Destry Butte. Briana looked upward and saw the steep incline that led to the flattened top. “A cow would never try to climb that,” she said. “What makes you think they’re up there?”
“I never said they were,” he retorted, pointing to a distant fissure leading into the rocky slope. “In there. This is one of the largest buttes around. The fissure turns into a ravine, and after that, a large inner cavity. Sort of a small canyon. It widens in the middle to maybe a quarter mile or so, before it narrows into a rock wall at the far end. Cows have a way of wandering in when they’re about to calve.
“So do bobcats and coyotes, when they’re hungry…” he added ominously.
Briana shivered. “I’m not scared. I can take care of myself.”
“Good,” he said. “You stay out here, and I’ll go inside and start rounding up the cows.”
“I’m going with you,” she cried.
Colt frowned. “Then come on, damn it, but make sure you stay out of my way.”
She followed him doggedly, casting wary glances about as they made their way into the fissure. She stared upward, saw the jutting, hanging rocks, and wondered what horrible creature might lurk there.
But then they reached the innards of the butte, and Briana gasped at the wonders before her. Like a painting of a jungle, it was a world of cool greenery, the dampness within encouraging the growth of silky foliage. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, drinking in the sweet air.
Colt drew his gun and held it out to her. She shrank back. “What’s that for?”
“Take it,” Colt snapped.
She shook her head. “I don’t want it.”
Colt closed his eyes. Women! They could be such a pain in the rump. “Take it, Dani. I’ve got to leave you here alone, and you need something in case a varmint comes along. You never know what you might run into in a place like this.”
Briana had never held a gun, much less fired one, and she wanted no part of it. “You keep it. If I see anything, I’ll scream, and you can come shoot it.”
Colt found her fear almost amusing, but managed to scowl anyway as he said, “All right, I’ll take the pistol, and you can use the Winchester rifle if you need to.”
“I won’t need to,” she said firmly.
Colt moved toward the thick growth of scrubs that filled the cavity of the butte. He hadn’t gone far when something caught his eye: a hoof sticking out from beneath a clump of bushes. Kneeling, he pushed leaves and branches aside. His nose wrinkled in revulsion at the overpowering stench of death. It was a cow, one of his, and she had died before giving birth to her calf. Starvation? Snake bite?
“Colt, I smell something bad.”
“Dead cow, Dani,” he said tonelessly and started walking closer to the inside of the cavity.
Twenty yards farther on, he stumbled across another dead cow. Tension began to creep over him like a thousand invisible spiders. He wished he’d waited another day, until he had some of the men along. Something was killing these animals, and the carcasses were being left to rot. They were not being eaten. Out here, it was kill for food, not for sport. So why were the cows being killed?
He looked around carefully, for this would not be the first time he’d stumbled into a snake pit, to find the earth moving with hundreds of wriggling poisonous vipers. But there was no snake pit. There was no sound, either, save for his own breathing, and now and then the gentle whistle of the wind dancing down from the top of the butte.
He moved on. A few seconds later, he froze. To the side, in the stiffened throes of an anguished death, lay a dead coyote. His mouth was turned nearly inside out, as though his final scream had been ripped from his throat in agony.
Something very strange was going on, and the atmosphere within Destry Butte was permeated with an overwhelming feeling of death. Instinct was urging Colt to go back, get Dani, and get the hell out of there. Fast.
He turned, froze stock-still, wondering why he hadn’t sensed its presence as he found himself staring into the glassy eyes of a coyote, probably the mate of the one lying behind him.
Its mouth was open in a silent snarl, and there was saliva stretching from upper fangs to lower. Froth and foam bubbled around its sharp yellowed teeth.
The coyote lurched sideways, momentarily losing its assault stance, and in that instant Colt went for his gun.
The animal lunged. Colt jerked to the right. A large rock smashed against his elbow, preventing him from drawing his gun. His body bounced backward, and the coyote missed him, then whipped around as fast as its weakened body would allow. Colt felt the ground sliding out from beneath him and he fell backward, a drop of six feet, landing squarely on his back. As he was falling, he yelled to Dani, “Get the rifle. Get the rifle and shoot!”
He reached for his own weapon, but it had fallen from the holster. Staring upward helplessly, he saw the coyote poised at the edge of the precipice.
At any moment, Colt knew, the beast would jump on him. He would be able to get away from it, probably beat it to death with a rock because it was so weak. But the animal’s attack wasn’t what he feared. No, an instant death wasn’t what would happen to Colt. He knew now what had killed the cows and the other coyote, what killer was on the loose there in the butte.
Hydrophobia.
No doubt, as animals wandered inside the butte, they were bitten by whatever carrier had not yet died. Then they themselves fell victim to the dreaded disease, attacking any living thing that came in.
How many others were there within the cavity? Coyotes? Bobcats? Bats? And if they lived long enough to make their way out of the butte? What then? The disease would spread…to skunks and raccoons and wolves. Humans, too, would be attacked and would die in agony, as all victims did. There was no cure for hydrophobia.
The coyote fixed his gaze on Colt, as best he could through the mist of pain the sickness caused. A thin, ragged sound came from within him.
“Dani, for God’s sake, bring the rifle and shoot!”
Briana had managed to unfasten the rifle from its straps on the side of the saddle and run through the brush toward the sound of Colt’s voice. She stopped when she saw the coyote, its back to her. She crept away from it, to the side, to a place where she could see Colt.
Colt lay on his back, legs bent, arms straight out as though to fend off the attack of the creature above.
She raised the rifle. The coyote didn’t see the movement and hadn’t yet seen her.
Colt inclined his head ever so slightly, not wanting to make a sudden movement. Speaking as softly as he could, he called out, “Dani, move very slow. Don’t frighten him. Aim for his body. You’ll come nearer hitting a large target than if you go for his head. You won’t have time for more than one shot before he goes for you. When he does, run like hell. I’ll be moving—trying to find my pistol.”
Briana’s throat constricted with fear. She had never fired a gun in her life, never even held one in her hands. What if she missed?
Her lips trembled, and she called, a sob in her voice, “I can’t…”
Colt saw the coyote take a me
nacing step forward, his back arching. “Shoot, God damn it!” he yelled, not bothering to keep his voice low. “Dani! Aim the goddamn gun and pull the trigger. Now!”
It seemed to take forever to raise the rifle so the shiny wooden butt rested against her right shoulder. Her left hand held the barrel, and she sent up a silent prayer as she found the cold trigger.
She closed her left eye, squinted her right, and fired.
She reeled backward as the gun butt slammed into her shoulder, and the exploding shot echoed around the innards of the butte.
She didn’t realize both her eyes were squeezed shut until Colt cried out hoarsely, “You got him, Dani! By damn, you got him!”
She tossed the rifle to the ground and ran to Colt, jumping from one rock to another until she reached the floor of the butte.
Colt stepped over the dead coyote and ran to meet her. He folded his arms around her and pressed her close.
“Hydrophobia,” he whispered, unashamed of his trembling. Death had never loomed so close before. “Whoever he bit would have died in agony, just like the cows.”
She didn’t understand, but she decided she’d ask him later to explain. Right then, she wanted him just to hold her.
He held her tightly. “Most women would have fainted,” he said, awed. “Why, you never shot a gun before, yet you saved my life. I’ll never forget it.”
He gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek and flashed a broad smile. “Tonight we’ll celebrate. Right now,” he said grimly, “we’ve got to set fire to this place and burn these carcasses. Any animal that comes along and eats the diseased flesh will become infected and spread the disease. We’ve got to get back to the ranch and alert the men, then tell the other ranchers around here that we’ve got hydrophobia in the area.”
He turned away and began dragging dry brush into a pile to make a fire. Briana stood and watched him, then moved to help. As the first flames of the fire began to crackle, she felt a heat of a different kind within, knew how much she really wanted him. If only she could possess him—and be possessed by him—in a normal way, and not through treachery.
Love and Fury: The Coltrane Saga, Book 4 Page 19