The Wildest Heart

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The Wildest Heart Page 11

by Rosemary Rogers


  “You big ape! Did you really imagine I enjoyed your kisses?”

  “God damn you for a cheatin’ bitch!”

  He knocked my hand away, almost breaking my wrist with the force of his anger, and then as I brought both hands up he seized my wrists, forcing them behind me, so that he had me held closely against his chest.

  “Like any little bitch, you need to be shown who’s master,” he snarled. “You’ve been provokin’ me, and you’ve teased me deliberately, but by God, you’re gonna pay off now!”

  Every time I attempted to twist my head aside he would laugh and give my wrists a jerk I felt sure would shatter them, and forced a moan of pain through my stiff lips. In the end, as he had been sure I would, I yielded and let him kiss me for as long as he wanted to, until my lips felt swollen and bruised and opened of their own accord to accept his seeking tongue.

  I saw scarlet sparks from the last strong rays of the rapidly setting sun reflected in his blue green eyes, when at last he lifted his head. But this time he did not laugh.

  “Damned if you ain’t the strangest woman I’ve ever met! An’ Godalmighty stubborn as well. What am I gonna do with you?”

  I had never felt more humiliated in my life as I did then, with tears of self-pity and rage prickling behind my eyelids. I could almost have endured a brutal rape better than I could the memory of his slow, deliberate kisses, his forcing of a response from me. For I had responded, and that was the worst humiliation of all.

  “You might release me to begin with,” I managed in a husky, low voice. “And after that, perhaps you’ll leave, if you’re sure the display of brute strength is over.”

  “Girl, why won’t you learn to hold your tongue? We could get on together, you and I—”

  I would not let him finish. “Because you feel you’ve got the best of me? Or because you imagine I might just be a convenient outlet for your moments of passion?”

  “I ought to slap your face for that, by God!” he swore at me, and I gave a short, bitter laugh.

  “Why not? You’ve done everything but rape me!”

  “An’ it seems to me like you’re asking for more,” he said slowly, his eyes traveling over me with an odd expression.

  “Oh God, you’re impossible! Why don’t we put an end to this whole disgusting episode now?”

  “It ain’t over, Rowena, an’ I think you know it. I came here mad, and I guess I made you mad. Maybe I shouldn’t have done what I did. But, by God, it happened, and it’s changed something between us. If you’ll stop acting like a stubborn, spoiled brat, you’ll admit it too!”

  Of course I would admit nothing. How could I? I would never give him the satisfaction.

  Todd Shannon finally left, angry again, when I retreated into sullen silence and refused to say anything. And as for myself, I spent a miserable night. There was a side to my character I had not known existed, and it frightened me. Was it possible that I had inherited some weakness of nature from my mother? It was frightening to be swept by a sensuality, a feeling of pure lust, that had nothing to do at all with my rational mind! No wonder Todd Shannon was so sure of himself. How pitiful my self-confidence, my avowals of hatred must have seemed to him! All he had to do was kiss me, and after a while I had begun to kiss him back. What was wrong with me?

  Shannon’s last, scathing words, repeated themselves over and over in my mind. “For God’s sake, what are you runnin’ from? When you stop hidin’, you just send me word. Until then, gal, I’ll leave you alone!”

  How dared he? How dared he insinuate… I felt as if I had barely fallen asleep when Marta brought me coffee the next morning, her round face concerned.

  “El señor patron—ah, there is a man who is like a bull when he is enraged! His rages are something terrible, this I know. Only your padre, our good señor was not afraid! Alas, señorita—”

  I wondered how much of our encounter she had witnessed. So she pitied me, did she? Even Marta, even Jules, who seemed to tiptoe around the house this morning. I was a “poor señorita.” A helpless female, incapable of standing up to a man.

  Well, if I could not conquer through force, I would try guile. Yes, Todd Shannon would realize I was no ordinary enemy, and that he had not scored a victory over me yet!

  Todd Shannon had broken my peace, but he had also cracked my shell of lethargy. I began to take more notice of things that were going on around me. For instance, because of the enormous size of the SD ranch, there was a bunkhouse within two hundred yards of my house. Even closer was a small shack which Marta explained had been the foreman’s cabin during the time when my father and Todd Shannon had hardly been on speaking terms. The main house itself, my house now, was shielded by a grove of trees, but I knew that Marta and Jules took it in turn to cook for the men. The horses were corralled a little further off, but it was Jules who always brought my mare around for me, saddled and ready to ride. I had had no formal contact yet with the men, who took their orders from Shannon; however, I planned to change that after a while. For the moment, I wanted to learn more about the ranch itself, and how it was run.

  I began to wish that Mr. Bragg would arrive. I needed his advice now more than ever, and he continued to stay away! Why did he have to be so mysterious?

  Well, with or without him, I’m going to teach Todd Shannon a lesson, I vowed to myself, and by a strange coincidence, I was helped in this objective by the belated arrival of my luggage from Boston. Mark Shannon drove over himself from the stage depot in a flatbed wagon, his manner diffident.

  “I didn’t know if you’d care for visitors or not, Lady Rowena. But I thought you might want the rest of your clothes. I don’t mean to intrude.”

  His eyes were a clear, pale blue, and his blond hair gleamed in the sunlight. He was polite, a civilized, educated young man, who had treated me with respect, even if I had looked a fright the first time he had set eyes on me.

  When he drove up, I was still wearing a peasant blouse and a full, brightly patterned skirt, but I wore sandals—huaraches Marta called them—on my feet, and my hair was loose over my shoulders, since I had just washed it.

  I saw the way Mark’s eyes rested on me, moved away in embarrassment when he caught me watching him, and then came back to me as if drawn by a magnet. Mark Shannon was no shy Western man. I knew, from Corinne’s inveterate gossiping, that he had been quite the young man about town, one of Boston’s eligible young bachelors and much sought after by the girls. I had become used to seeing men’s eyes on me, just this way, but that had been in London, and Todd Shannon had told me scornfully I looked like a peasant woman only a few days ago.

  I found myself deliberately smiling at Mark Shannon as I invited him to see my patio. “Jules will see to my trunks,” I said casually. “It was very kind of you to come all this way. Please, I’ve grown lonely, recently.”

  He followed me with alacrity. Obviously Mark Shannon was used to women who flirted with him. We sat down together and Marta, smiling, brought out orange juice, naranjada. And we began to converse about Boston, and London, the theater and the opera, books we had both read. Mark, now that the first awkwardness was over, seemed more self-assured. Neither of us mentioned his uncle, nor his visit to me. We laughed and talked easily, and before Mark left we had almost become conspirators together.

  He would come early tomorrow to take me riding.

  “You can’t possibly see all of the SD, of course, but I can show you enough so you can get a general idea. There’s a map somewhere. I’ll see if I can find it for you.” His blue eyes flattered me. “I have a feeling you’re going to make out just fine, and I’m glad. In fact—” he laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling attractively, “I think you’re going to be a great success. Wait until the governor sees you!”

  “Oh?” I lifted my brows questioningly and he gave another rather boyish laugh.

  “I was leading up to that! The territorial governor will be visiting Silver City soon. It’s a lot bigger town than Santa Rita, and they’re givin
g a big ball for him. I’d been hoping I’d get the opportunity to ask you, and now I’ve found it! Will you allow me to escort you there?”

  “You’re asking me now that my clothes have finally arrived?” I teased him, and he flushed.

  “You know that’s not so! I meant to ask you before, but I was waiting until you were ready, I guess.” He gave me a rueful look. “I saw through your disguise, you know! Even in those drab clothes, you were beautiful. The bone structure of your face… I’m something of an amateur artist, you see! That same night, I sketched you without those disfiguring spectacles I was sure you had worn deliberately. And with your hair loose, as it is now. Will you forgive me?”

  “How can I not forgive you?” It was my turn to shrug a trifle guiltily. “I had no idea my attempt at making myself inconspicuous would arouse such a hornets’ nest! Your uncle…”

  “Uncle Todd is a very unpredictable man. I’m afraid his shocking rudeness showed me up at a disadvantage. I had no idea what he was going to do, and when I saw how he was acting, I didn’t know what I could say to you!”

  I lifted my shoulders lightly. “It doesn’t matter now. I think we have begun to understand each other.”

  “Then you will go with me to Silver City? I’ll come for you the day before, of course, and reserve a room at the hotel.”

  “I’d love to go,” I said smiling.

  Seven

  The ball at Silver City was still a month off, but in the meantime, I rode almost daily with Mark Shannon, and watched him fall in love with me. I was vindictively glad that his uncle made no overt move to see me again, although I guessed that he knew of all the time his nephew spent with me.

  Let Todd Shannon wonder. Let him think the worst of me, if that was what he chose! I made no effort to take over part of the management of the SD, although I learned a lot from Mark. The riding habits I wore now were my newer ones, and I made some effort to pin up my hair so that it looked becoming, although I always wore a hat, a flat-brimmed, flat-crowned Spanish-styled one that Mark had given to me. Once or twice Flo Jeffords accompanied us, but I don’t think she was happy at the transformation in my looks and manners. As soon as she found she wasn’t the center of attention, she made excuses to stay at home.

  I could sense that she did not like me, and that she resented Mark’s growing interest in me. She reminded me, in some indefinable way, of my mother, and so I couldn’t like her either, although there were moments when I almost felt sorry for her.

  Poor Flo! The scandal attached to her past, when she had been still a girl, seemed to keep her isolated. Why had she come back here? I began to realize that in spite of Mark’s eagerness to tell me as much as he knew, he never mentioned the feud or the Kordes family. And nobody else had mentioned it either. Had Mr. Bragg been exaggerating? I had met some of the SD cowboys, and recognized some of them by sight now. They would touch their hats politely when they saw me and explain whatever tasks they were engaged in if Mark pressed them. But everything seemed so peaceful! And I hadn’t yet seen any of the fierce Indians I had been warned about.

  Sometimes I felt that I had gone back into the past and was back in Jhanpur again. The climate here was very much the same, and even the fierce mountains that loomed like a gigantic backdrop in the distance looked familiar. Inconceivable that peril could lurk there! I began to think that all the stories I had heard before I’d come here had been figments of someone’s overactive imagination. Wildly improbable tales, designed to put me off coming here, no doubt!

  I thought darkly that Todd Shannon himself had probably started the rumors of violence and Indian attacks. There was no longer any feud, of course. How could there be? Hadn’t I seen for myself just how powerful a man Shannon was, and how carefully the SD was guarded? He had enough men to form a small army. It was ridiculous to think that a man like Todd Shannon would fear anyone, and unthinkable that any man, no matter how reckless and vengeful, would dare to stand up against the might of the SD.

  I had read Todd Shannon’s character. Now, as the days passed, and I was constantly in his nephew’s company, I began to have the feeling that Todd Shannon was only biding his time, waiting for something to happen. He was a dangerous, devious man, and he hadn’t finished with me, nor I with him. What would transpire at our next meeting? In some strange way, I found myself waiting. This time, at least, he wouldn’t catch me off guard. I would be ready.

  It was Mark, though, who indirectly precipitated matters. He had been helping me sort out some legal papers that my father kept in a battered tin box. Railroad share certificates, shares in mines both in New Mexico and California. IOUs from men I had never heard of. All were jumbled together, filling the box almost to bursting. I had no idea how many of these documents were valuable and how many were completely worthless.

  Mark was helpful, and I discovered that he had an extremely sharp legal mind. He should have stayed in Boston to practice law. Indeed, whenever he talked of it, and some of the cases he had handled, his voice became quite wistful.

  We had become friends by now. Impulsively, I put my hand on his arm.

  “Mark, that’s what you really want to do, isn’t it? Why are you here, then, wasting your time?”

  There was an unusual, bitter twist to his lips when he met my eyes. “Because my uncle decided to make me his heir. You don’t understand, Rowena. My mother has money of her own, and my father was an able lawyer. He was appointed a judge before he died. I always wanted to choose the law as my profession. But you see, there is the family obligation. And the money, of course; I’m no Sir Galahad!”

  “But you said…”

  “My mother is comfortably off, better off than most, I suppose. And I was making quite a good income following my chosen profession. All the same, how can any of it compare to what my uncle’s share of the SD alone is worth? Don’t you see, Rowena? He has no heirs! Someone has to take over some day. Your father chose you, and my uncle chose me.”

  I wanted to burst out at him, tell him to follow his own inclinations, as long as they made him happy, but logic held me silent.

  As he had pointed out, in a way we were both in the same predicament. Both here because it profited us to be.

  “Will you have to live here always?” I asked Mark, and he gave a slight shrug, shaking his head.

  “Not yet, thank God! No, I’m here to learn the ropes, and then I can go back to Boston. Maybe come back here for a few weeks of each year. You have the same alternative, of course. As long as you reside here for a whole year, your father’s share of the ranch becomes yours with no further strings attached.” His voice became wry. “I suppose you’ll spend your time traveling in Europe and appoint a manager to see to your interests here.”

  We had both been sitting on the rug before the fireplace with the box of papers between us, and now I sat back on my heels.

  “And why should you think that? I’ve already done my share of traveling in Europe. It’s all too civilized there. This way of life is a challenge, don’t you see? My father and your uncle were the groundbreakers, so to speak, but you and I, we’ll be the ones to build something lasting. We’ll watch a new century come in, if we’re lucky enough!”

  “You make me look at things so differently, do you know that! You should have been an orator, Rowena! And when you said ‘you and I’ just now, I—”

  Suddenly, his eyes shining, he leaned forward to catch my hands, taking me off-balance, so that I half fell against him. “Oh, Rowena, I’m sorry. I never meant—but I cannot help the way I’ve come to feel about you! Why, for God’s sake, do you have to be so darned rich?”

  “Why? What has that got to do with it?”

  I pulled away from him frowning. I had not wanted this to happen. Certainly not a declaration which I would have to turn down and, in so doing, ruin what might have been a good friendship between us. I had tried to avoid a situation that might lead to such a declaration. But what had Mark meant by saying I was too rich?

  “Rowena!”
He reached for my hands again and succeeded in capturing one. “I only meant—well, as much as I care for you, I wouldn’t want anyone to think that I would propose marriage to you merely to gain control of your fortune. Surely you see that?”

  He continued to hold my hand, pressing it imploringly while his eyes searched my face for some reaction. “Rowena…”

  “I could never think that you, of all people, would ever propose marriage to me with the motive of controlling my money. What a ridiculous idea!” I said forcibly. “But as for marriage,” I added quickly to forestall the words I saw forming themselves on his lips, “nothing could be further from my mind! I’m still in mourning for my father, even if I have ceased to dress the part, and I certainly think I should wait a few years before I commit myself to any such arrangement.”

  “Arrangement!” He was staring at me with dismay showing in his eyes. “But Rowena, surely you did not think I was suggesting a convenient arrangement in order to join the SD under one management? It might be the sort of thing that my uncle would think of as a practical suggestion, but I’m not made that way. It is exactly for that reason that I can’t ask you to marry me!”

  “Well, then…”

  “You don’t understand. Rowena, I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you. You surely must have suspected it! I’ve never met a woman quite like you! Beautiful, intelligent, oh, God, what a mess I’m making of this!”

  “Don’t, Mark! Please, don’t say any more, or you’ll spoil everything. Our friendship—”

  Despair showed in his kind, handsome face as he shook his head at me. “Friendship! You’ll always have that and anything else you ask of me. But I’d hoped, and yet, how could I be so presumptuous? You’ve lived among the aristocracy of England. I’m sure you’ve received innumerable proposals of marriage from men far richer and more eligible than I. Please forgive me.”

  “Mark! Will you please stop talking that way? It’s not that at all. Only that I—I’m not ready for marriage yet. Or love, for that matter.” I pulled my hand from his grasp and looked at him severely. “You’re infatuated with me. You know as well as I do that I’m probably the only eligible female in these parts, and so, when we were thrown into each other’s company…”

 

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