Sweet Silken Bondage

by Bobbi Smith

  Sheriff Macauley had been expecting Clay, and he greeted the other man coolly. "You mean, you don't know?"

  "All I know is what the girl at the Perdition told me - that you'd arrested Dev for murder."

  "You got your facts right, Cordell."

  "What murder?"

  "It's amazin' how much you two sound alike, Cordell. Maybe I should look around some more. Maybe you were in on this, too!"

  "In on what?"

  "A real nice man named Pedro Santana was murdered a couple of days ago out at his place. He was shot in the back."

  "So what's that got to do with Dev?"

  "I was out there investigating early this morning, and I found these." Macauley tossed the two small silver medallions on the top of his desk for Clay to see. "I remembered that your friend was wearin' a real fancy silver belt the day you brought in Denton, so I thought I'd check it out. Seems I was right."

  Clay immediately recognized them as having come from Dev's hand-tooled, leather and silver belt. It was a one-of-a-kind keepsake that he'd had made for himself while they were down Los Angeles way several years before. "There's got to be some mistake." Clay looked up at the sheriff, puzzled.

  "I found those at the scene of the crime, and..."

  "Sheriffl" Carter's excited call interrupted them. He had been going through De's things while they'd been talking. "Sheriff, look at this..." He pulled a thick wad of money from the bottom of the saddlebag.

  "Well, well, well." Macauley fixed an accusing glare on Clay. "Maybe you can explain to me what your partner's doing with over four hundred dollars cash on him, when you haven't collected your reward for Denton yet? Where were you two or three days ago?"

  "We were..." Clay fell silent for a moment as he remembered the day they'd trapped Denton out in the wilderness. He and Dev had been separated for about eight hours as they'd circled around the cunning, elusive outlaw before finally managing to trap him. "We were south of town, rounding up Denton. Look, Sheriff, you've got the wrong man. There's no way Dev could have done this!"

  "Then how do you explain the fact that I found these in the very place where the bushwhacker must have been standing? Were you and O'Keefe together the whole time that day?"

  "No...we were apart for a while when we were closing in on Denton," Clay admitted slowly, hating to think what his testimony was going to do to Dev's chances of getting out of jail. He knew Dev as well as he knew himself, and he was positive that his friend would never kill anyone in cold blood, never.

  "Then how do you know what your partner did or didn't do?"

  "Because I know Dev!" he argued vehemently. "He's not a killer!"

  "Well, well just have to see what a jury has to say about that, won't we, Cordell? I'll tell you one thing, with the evidence we've got, it doesn't look good for him."

  "I want to see Dev now," Clay demanded.

  "You can have five minutes. That's it. Leave your gun here," Macauley instructed and then waved Clay on to the back of the building where Dev was imprisoned.

  It was a shock to see his friend locked up next to the deadly murderer they'd brought to justice themselves just a few days before. Denton was watching the goings on and found Dev's situation highly amusing.

  "What's the matter, O'Keefe? You gotta have your friend Cordell come and rescue you?" the killer taunted with obvious glee.

  "Shut up, Denton, or I'll save the sheriff the trouble of hiring a hangman," Devlin threatened angrily. He'd been listening to the killer's abuse ever since they'd thrown him into the cell a short time before and he'd about had all he could take. Dev looked up then and was greatly relieved when he saw Clay coming. "Clay! What the hell's going on? Get me out of here!"

  Clay quickly explained what the sheriff had just told him about the silver medallions from the belt, and Dev looked deeply frightened.

  "I don't understand it," he said worriedly. "I didn't even know the medallions were missing, let alone how they got out to this Santana's place. Hell, I wasn't anywhere near there!"

  "I believe you, damnit!" Clay swore. "But I've got to prove it to the sheriff. The way things look right now, it isn't going to be easy. Just sit tight. I'll do what I can."

  Dev knew he could count on Clay. He felt a little better, but he was still scared "Clay," he begged in a low. desperate voice, "I didn't do it! You gotta get me out of here!"

  "I know," Clay sympathized. "Just tell me where all the money came from."

  "Money? What money?"

  "They just found about four hundred dollars in your saddlebags, and it seems that money was missing from this Santana's ranch, too."

  "I didn't have any extra money in my saddlebags -" Dev was completely dumbstruck by this revelation.

  "You didn't?"

  "No! Where would I get that kind of cash?" He could see the concern clouding Clay's gaze, and he asked, earnestly, "You believe me, don't you?"

  "Of course I do. I've just got to figure out what's going on around here..."

  "Time's up, Cordell," the sheriff called, forcing him to end their conversation.

  "Right," he responded. "Look, Dev, try to get some rest for now. Let me see what I can find out. There's got to be some explanation."

  "Ail right" Dev said slowly, already feeling caged and restless. He watched Clay leave the jail and then sank slowly down on the small, lumpy cot to wait.

  It was dawn as Clay made his way back upstairs to his room at the Perdition. He'd spent the last hour going over everything that had happened to them over the last few days, but he could find no answer to Dev's dilemma. It seemed too pat, too simple, but oh, so damning. The whole scenario upset Clay, for he found himself doubting Dev for the first time in all the years he'd known him. There was no way Dev could or would have done it. He'd had the time and the opportunity while they'd been apart that day, but he wan 't the kind of person to do a thing like that. Clay allowed himself to follow that train of thought for only a few minutes before summarily dismissing it. He trusted Dev completely. There was no way the Devlin O'Keefe he knew could cold-bloodedly murder a man. No way.

  Clay thought back to the first time he'd met Dev. It had been nearly eight years before when he'd been trying his own hand at prospecting. He'd had a little success, but nothing spectacular. Then one day on his way into town to see the assayer about a new vein he'd uncovered, he'd been wounded in an ambush. Clay knew he would have been killed that day had Dev not come along and interrupted the would-be robbers in the act. Not only, had Dev saved his life, he doctored him up and helped him go after the two men responsible.

  It had taken them several weeks to track the outlaws down, but they finally had done it and brought both men to justice. When they'd returned from chasing down the outlaws, Clay had discovered that his promising vein was so poor it wasn't worth the money and effort it would take to dig it out. So he'd sold his claim to another miner, and they'd left the gold fields behind. He and Dev had decided then to take up their present vocation, and they'd been working together ever since. They were as close as two men could be. Clay knew he owed Dev his life.

  Troubled, Clay returned to his room. It was still too early in the day to do much in the way of investigating the charges against Dev, so he was hoping to get a few hours of much needed rest before checking further into the allegations. Clay did not expect to find anyone in his room, especially not Luis Alvarez, and he stopped just inside the doorway, tensing visibly at the sight of him.

  "Alvarez..." Clay growled his name in surprise, glaring at the man who stood so casually across the room from him with a look of supreme confidence on his dark, Hispanic features. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  "Mr. Cordell" Luis responded with a cool smile. "I'm glad to see you finally made it back. I've been waiting for some time to speak with you, and I was beginning to wonder if you were going to return."

  "Oh, really?" he drawled sarcastically, not believing the gall of the man.

  "Yes, I understand you and your partner ran into a little
trouble with the law last night."

  "What do you know about it?"

  "Why, nothing, nothing at all. Frenchie, I believe her name was, told me what had happened, that's all."

  "Look, Alvarez, why are you here?" Clay demanded, resenting his intrusion and wanting to get rid of him. "What do you want?"

  "I'm here because I wanted to repeat my offer to you, Mr. Cordell. I want to hire you to find my daughter."

  "And I told you before that I'm still not interested in your deal. Now, go on and get out of here." Clay's concern for Dev was foremost in his mind, and he wondered in annoyance if this man would ever give up. He had refused his business proposition point blank. He'd told him that he didn't want anything to do with chasing down his errant daughter, and yet here he was, back again.

  Luis smiled even wider. "Ali, but Mr. Cordell, I've raised my offer again."

  "I said I wasn't interested - not at any price!" Clay just wished the man would leave and let him get on with what he had to do. He had to concentrate on getting Dev out of that jail cell.

  "Not even to save the life of your friend?"

  Clay went completely still at the question, and he slowly raised his gaze to meet the .Californio's. "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm talking about Mr. O'Keefe. I understand he's been arrested for murder."

  "Yes, so?"

  "So, perhaps there's something I can do to help you. I am not without influence here in Monterey, you know."

  "Sorry, Alvarez. I'm not interested in bribing anyone. Dev is innocent, and all I have to do is prove it."

  "Ali, but Mr. Cordell, Pedro Santana had a lot of friends here in town, and vigilantes have been known to storm jails and wreak their own type of justice. Who knows if your friend O'Keefe will stay alive long enough for you to prove that innocence?"

  "Why you..." The implication of his words infuriated Clay, and he took a menacing step toward Luis.

  Luis held up one well-manicured hand to stop him as he dictated with a steely calm, "I wouldn't if I were you, Cordell." He waited to continue until he was certain the bounty hunter had his fierce temper under control. When he spoke again, it was in a conversational tone, "I think it's a more than fair exchange, don't you? My daughter returned for the life of your friend."

  "You set this up, you no-good, son-of-a-"

  "As it is now," Luis interrupted his tirade, "all the evidence against O'Keefe is circumstantial. As long as it stays that way, I'm sure hell be safe enough in jail. Of course, should you refuse to take my job offer, there's no telling what other evidence might unexpectedly turn up against him."

  Clay was holding himself under rigid control as he ground out the words, "I want Dev out of that cell today!"

  The Californio's smile turned cruel. "Sorry, Cordell. No deal. He stays put until you get back with my daughter. Once Reina's home with me, I'll see that your friend is cleared of all charges and released. Until then, he stays right where he is. He's my insurance, you see." He watched the growing anger and frustration mirrored in Clay's eyes and was pleased. "Of course, if you're not interested in taking on the job-" Luis enjoyed power-plays, and after the way this gringo had talked to him previously, he was taking great pleasure in making him crawl a bit. He started to leave the room.

  Clay was trapped, and he knew it. It enraged him that he was helpless to do anything more to free Dev, but Alvarez seemed to be holding all the aces. In temporary defeat, he demanded, "What do you want me to do?"

  Luis's thin lips curved triumphantly. "I have here a small portrait of my Reina..."

  Four days... We've only been on the road four days and already it seems an eternity. Reina's thoughts were grim and miserable as the poorly-sprung stagecoach continued to rumble and jounce along on the last leg of its southward journey to Los Angeles. Scrunched in between a small, fair-haired, eight-year-old girl named Melissa and the hard, unyielding wall of the coach, Reina struggled miserably to keep her seat and maintain her dignity at the same time. This was not an easy thing to do considering that her habit, once so pristinely clean and white, was now dusty and wrinkled, and the veil that had once been so perfectly starched, was now wilting pitifully in the growing heat.

  "Kinda a rough ride, eh, Sister?" the grizzled, skinny, good-natured, old cowboy named Poke who was sitting across from her in the coach asked.

  "Yes, Mr. Poke, it is a very rough ride," she agreed, fighting to keep up her pleasant demeanor. When the stage unexpectedly hit another big bump and slammed her against the wall, Reina almost lost her temper with the obviously ham-handed driver. Couldn't the idiot see where he was going? Didn't he know how to drive? If he kept this up there wouldn't be an inch of her body that wasn't bruised and battered. She was about to shout at him and tell him what she thought about his ability to handle his horses, when Maria's words of caution about presenting the proper image at all times echoed through her mind. Annoyed, Reina squashed the urge to put the driver in his place. She was Sister Mary Regina now, not Reina Isabella Alvarez.

  "I done told ya, Sister, ya don't hafta call me `Mister anything. I'm just plain Poke." He grinned at her, showing uneven, tobacco-stained teeth.

  "All right, Poke." Reina finally gave in. She'd wanted to keep an aura of aloofness about her to dissuade any attempts at familiarity by the other passengers, but ever since they'd pulled out of Monterey this cowboy had been persistent in his efforts to draw her into conversation. There was nothing threatening about the old man, it was just that she didn't want to be bothered, not by him or anyone else. Even so, she realized now in agitation that nothing short of a withering look and a cold, cutting dismissal would discourage him, and Sister Mary Regina couldn't do that.

  The cowboy smiled widely as if some great event had occurred. "How far ya going, Sister?"

  Reina was annoyed, but drew on some deep inner resource to manage to give Poke her most serene smile. "I'm traveling to Fort Smith." It occurred to Reina that she had never had to smile so much in her whole life, as she had since she'd donned this habit. She almost felt as if her face was going to crack into a thousand pieces from the falseness of the effort. No matter how beatific she appeared, there was nothing rapturously happy about her. Still, it amazed Reina how others responded so openly to her display of seemingly tranquil spirit. It was almost as if they were drawn to her.

  "Fort Smith?" Poke gave her a look of even greater respect. "Oooh-wee, Sister, that is one hell of a...er, uh, excuse me, ma'am, uh...ladies." He looked a bit shamefaced as he realized what he'd said in front of the women, and he hurried to apologize to Reina, to the young Melissa and to her matronly mother, Ruth Hawks, who was sitting on the other side of her.

  "That's all right, Poke," Reina said graciously, and it amazed her to see him almost beam at her forgiveness. His reaction gave her cause to think. All her life she had demanded imperiously that her wishes be met, and they had been. Now, seeing how this cowboy responded to her sweetness, she realized she might have accomplished the same thing at home without all the tirades.

  "As I was sayin', Sister," he went on after clearing his throat, "that is one heckuva long trip for a lady like yourself to be makin'."

  "Yes, I know," she agreed, fighting to keep from sounding too disgusted over the thought of at least another ten days of travel in this miserable vehicle. "But, one must do what one is called to do." She thought smugly that her response sounded suitably reverent.

  "What are ya gonna be doing back there?" Poke refused to let the conversation die.

  "God's work, of course," Reina responded, pleased with her inspired answer, yet wondering just how much longer she could keep deflecting his queries without seeming rude. Knowing how much men liked to talk about themselves and sensing that Poke had no intention of shutting up any time soon, she turned the questioning to him. "How far will you be traveling?"

  "Me?" He seemed surprised that she even cared to ask. "Oh, I'm only goin' as far as Fort Yuma."

  At this news, the precocious little Melissa spoke up
with childish enthusiasm. "My Mama and I are going there, too! My father's there, and we're going to meet him."

  "I'll bet you're excited aren't you, little one?" Reina asked knowing that Sister Mary Regina would show interest.

  "Oh, yes! Papa said in his letter that I can even have my very own horse once I get there! Right, Mama?"

  "Right, Melissa," her mother answered, giving her an adoring look.

  "That's wonderful," Reina responded and then found herself adding almost wistfully, "When I was at home, I had my own mare. She was a beauty, too."

  "I bet you miss her, don't you?" Melissa sympathized.

  "Yes, you know I do. But it seems so long ago now since 1 left home..." Reina gave herself a mental shake. It had only been four days since she'd run away, and yet it felt like an eternity.

  "Couldn't you have taken her with you?"

  "No, I'm afraid not," she answered honestly. Dorado, her beautiful palomino, was so distinctive that she would have been easily recognized had she tried to bring her along.

  "Then why did you leave her?" Melissa asked, expecting a simple answer in her childish perception.

  "Sometimes, other things become more important in life." Reina clasped her hands tightly in her lap as the terrible memories of her last encounter with her father rifled through her. She had managed not to think about it for some time now, but the remembrance renewed the pain of her parting. She loved Rancho Alvarez. She'd never wanted to leave, but her father had left her no choice.

  Melissa saw Reina's expression turn melancholy, and she quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad."

  "I'm not sad," she told her, managing a weak smile. "I'm just a little homesick, I guess."

  "I can see by your habit that you've already professed your final vows," Ruth said gently and with the utmost respect. "But you look so young, Sister, have you been with your order a long time?"

  "Long enough," Reina returned all too honestly, wishing with all her heart that none of this had ever happened. "I suppose I should be used to being away from home by now, but I'm not."