by Nan Ryan
33
Suzette and Kaytano climbed on Darkness’s back and rode south. A stand of trees by a small brook of clear rippling water suited them both. Kaytano smiled at Suzette. He began to talk.
“In the spring of 1852 a young girl with blond, blue-eyed good looks celebrated her fifteenth birthday with her father and older brother at their modest cabin a few miles west of Fort Worth. The pretty girl was thrilled when a big, handsome man came to join in the celebration. The handsome man was acquainted with the girl’s older brother, and when he took one look at the delicate blond beauty, he fell in love.
“It was the same for her, and soon the young man was courting the pretty girl. The young girl’s father and brother were delighted because the young man was intelligent, a hard worker, and ambitious. He was also honorable and a gentleman. He told her that as soon as she was old enough, they would wed.
“One moonlight night after the sweethearts had spent a pleasant evening on her front porch, the pretty blond girl was asleep in her bed when a band of Kiowa Indians swept down from the north and carried her away. Her father was killed, her brother wounded. The girl was taken to the Kiowa camp and she was so beautiful and so different from the Indians, she was not harmed. When she’d been in camp for only a week, some of the warriors returned and saw her. The strongest and most handsome of the young braves was called Satanta.”
At the mention of Satanta’s name, Suzette eyes widened. She knew what Kaytano was going to tell her. Hadn’t she always known? From the first time she’d looked into Kaytano’s black, beautiful eyes it was as if she knew him. She started to speak, but Kaytano put his fingers to his lips, motioning her to remain silent.
Kaytano spoke. “The proud Satanta saw the pretty blond child and fell in love with her. He was a respected young chief. Brave and daring. The girl was given to him and he immediately took her for his woman. In a few months she was carrying his child. The girl didn’t hate Satanta, but she never got over her love for the sweetheart she’d been taken from. In June of 1853, the girl bore Satanta a son.”
Suzette looked at him. Kaytano nodded. “Yes, Suzette, I’m Satanta’s son.”
“But, Kaytano, he was…Satanta…” she fell silent. She was in love with the son of the savage who had killed Luke Barnes and the others. Suzette swallowed and studied the handsome face she loved so much. A hot day in June of 1871 came back to her. Satanta brought into the fort in handcuffs, his black eyes turning on her. Kaytano had the same eyes, the same aristocratic look, the same regal bearing, the same hard, handsome features.
Kaytano continued with his story. “Satanta was my father; the young blond girl was my mother. Her older brother, my uncle, never stopped trying to ransom his sister back from the Indians. The young white man who loved her was just as eager to have her returned. Finally the girl was brought back. She came home to her brother, and with her was her eighteen-month-old son. Me.
“The big, handsome man took one look at me and my mother knew it was over. He couldn’t accept what had happened. He couldn’t bear the thought that his sweetheart had been a brave’s woman, had borne a half-breed child by him. The big, handsome man left her and never returned. My mother was brokenhearted. She believed in him, and all through the time she’d been forced to live with Satanta, she’d never given her heart to the warrior; it always belonged to the white man.
“I grew up watching my mother suffer. She was looked on as some kind of freak. She was treated as an outcast by old friends. No one stood by her but my uncle. He took care of my mother and me. My mother never married. No man would give her his name. The only man she loved turned his back on her. The big, handsome man she adored no longer came to see her. He went east and married a rich, influential woman and brought her home to Fort Worth. My mother’s heart was broken. She never got over it and I never forgave him.”
Suzette felt sick. She clasped her hands together and watched Kaytano’s black eyes narrow. “Kaytano, who was the man?” She held her breath.
His gaze swung to her. “Austin Brand.”
The color drained from Suzette’s face. She felt as though he’d struck her. She shook her head. “Kaytano, no…”
“Yes, Suzette. Your rich, powerful husband was my mother’s only love. Austin Brand cast her off like a dirty garment. He told her he was sorry that he couldn’t marry her. He said he’d never forget her, but he couldn’t accept the fact that she’d lain with an Indian, had borne his child.” Kaytano smiled ruefully. “Can you imagine, Suzette? My poor innocent mother was stolen by Indians and forced to share Satanta’s bed, and Austin Brand couldn’t stand it! Did he consider what my mother had been through, what she’d go through for the remainder of her life?
“Did Austin Brand give a damn that an innocent young girl’s life was ruined?” Kaytano took a cigar from his breast pocket and clamped it between his teeth. He lit it and laughed a hollow, sad laugh.
“When I was little boy, I remember seeing my mother cry and I felt responsible. I knew that the man whose name she called night after night was not there because of me. I learned to hate him almost as soon as I learned to walk and talk. As the years passed and I saw my mother treated like some whore not good enough for decent folks to associate with, I vowed I’d get even with Austin Brand. I’ve spent every day of my life planning to even the score. Nothing else mattered to me.
“When I was fourteen, I stood by my mother’s bedside and watched her die. She was frail and no longer pretty. She’d contracted a fever and couldn’t fight it; she wasn’t strong enough. But, then, she didn’t want to live, her life had been over from the time Austin Brand left her. She was twenty-nine years old when she died.” Kaytano drew on his cigar and shook his head. “Twenty-nine, Suzette, and she looked ancient. She was old before her time.” He closed his eyes for a minute. Suzette knew he was reliving the past. She could picture a fourteen-year-old Kaytano tearfully watching his mother dying. Her chest ached for the boy, and for the man. She longed to make it up to him.
Kaytano opened his eyes. “I cried and begged my mother not to go. I told her I needed her and loved her. She clung to my hand and whispered she was sorry but she couldn’t hang on any longer. She told me that my Uncle Curtis would watch after me, that I was to stay with him and mind him. I promised I would and kissed her cheek. In less than an hour she was dead. Do you know whose name she called when she died? Austin Brand’s.” Kaytano’s eyes flashed with fury and he said hotly, “My God! Can you believe she loved him after what he did to her? After all those lonely, wasted years she still loved him.”
“Kaytano.” Suzette reached for his hand. “Darling, don’t torture yourself. Sweetheart, it was a long time ago and she…”
Kaytano withdrew his hand. “I will never forget it, Suzette, never. Brand was responsible for my mother’s death. I hate him, I always will.”
“Kaytano, I understand. But what about Satanta? I realize that he was your father, but why didn’t you hate him for raping your mother? You can’t forgive Austin for letting her go. What about Satanta? He let the whites take her back home. He took money and let them have both of you. What kind of man would do that?”
Kaytano’s black eyes were cold now. “No, Suzette. Satanta didn’t ransom her back, and if he hadn’t been on the warpath when they came for her, she would never have been brought back! The white men deliberately waited until Satanta was far away from camp before they went in after her. Satanta was a man. He’d never have let them take his woman and child.”
Suzette sat quietly studying Kaytano. Her brain was racing with all the sad facts, with all the tragedies weaving their lives together. She could see everyone’s side in the unhappy drama, even Austin’s, though she didn’t say as much to Kaytano.
“Darling,” she said softly, “there’s still so much that I don’t understand. I can see you wanted to get even with Austin, but…Kaytano, did you…did you kill Austin’s first wife and his child?”
She was immediately sorry she’d said it. Rage tu
rned his face to a mask of fury, and for a minute he couldn’t speak. Finally he said coldly, “No. Killing helpless women and children is as repulsive to me as to any man. I rob banks, Suzette, or hold up trains. While my life is not one of respectability, I’m not an animal who harms women and children. I never touched his wife and little girl. Renegade Comanches did that.”
“Kaytano, why me?” Suzette studied him. “And why have you kept me all this time and never harmed me? It’s confusing. Tell me everything.”
Kaytano smiled for the first time and reached out to stroke a shiny lock of golden hair lying on her shoulder. “My naive love. My sweet Suzette.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her nose. “I didn’t steal Beth Brand because it wouldn’t have hurt Austin Brand. He was not in love with her. He married her because her family was wealthy and he was ambitious. He loved my mother, but couldn’t accept her after Satanta. So he set out to be a rich man. He married Beth, knowing that not only would she so adore him and give him charge of her pursestrings, but also that she was heir to a banking fortune. Of all eligible women, he picked Beth Applegate. He was a good husband and eventually grew fond of her, I think. But never was he in love with her. So I waited. And I tried to decide what I could do to hurt him.
“After the tragedy when his little girl was killed and his wife was raped, I almost felt sorry for him. I thought I might let him go, forget the whole thing. For a time I put it from my mind. Then Austin Brand married you and found true happiness.” Kaytano’s arms tightened around Suzette. He inhaled deeply and kissed her cheek. “I knew then how I’d get even. It was almost comical—the big, powerful Austin Brand had fallen so in love that he could think of nothing else. He was like a young boy again and I was as elated as he.”
Suzette ran her hand over Kaytano’s chest and said, “Kaytano, you aren’t making sense. Why were you so happy that Austin loved me?”
“It’s simple: at long last he was completely vulnerable. He worships you, Suzette. He did long before he married you. Did you know that? I did. I knew and I rubbed my hands together in anticipation of your marriage, just as he did. I kept close watch on both of you, and after you were married I decided it would be more rewarding if perhaps I waited to steal you until he was so used to having you that he’d be like an insane man when finally I did take you. So I waited and watched. I knew every move both of you made.”
He fell silent, then laughed. “It was great fun; I knew enough about Austin Brand’s relationship with you to know that now and then you were beginning to feel…uh…trapped, watched too closely, treated like a child.” Suzette’s head snapped up.
“How could you know that? I hardly knew myself. I thought…”
Kaytano pressed her head back to his shoulder. “Suzette, you took your little train ride without your husband’s permission, didn’t you?” Suzette nodded her head and mumbled. “You did,” Kaytano repeated. “You boarded that private railroad car without asking him, just as I knew you would. You fell right into my arms. I was waiting for you that day. I’d planned that day for years.”
“What did you plan to do with me?”
Kaytano kissed her hair. “I planned to steal you and rape you on that first night, then force you to sleep with me each night. When I’d used you, I planned to release you to your husband.”
“And you thought that Austin would never be able to accept me because I…because you…”
“Because you’d slept with a half-breed. I wanted to take the most precious thing in his life and spoil it. He left my mother because she’d shared an Indian’s bed. Surely you must know that if there’s anything on this earth a white man hates worse than an Indian, it’s a white woman who’s slept with an Indian.”
Suzette pushed back a little and looked Kaytano in the eye. “I suppose that’s true, but you didn’t do that, Kaytano. Why? Why didn’t you rape me?”
“I couldn’t. You see, from the beginning, I loved you, too. That first night we slept on the ground, I held you in my arms and I was sorry I’d taken you from the train. Then when we got to the Roost and you screamed and fought me, I wanted to take you in my arms and comfort you. I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. Within hours after I took you from the train, I was a prisoner, not you. You were so beautiful, and so sweet and clean. And so frightened. God, how I longed to hold you and love you. I didn’t know what to do with you. I spent sleepless nights trying to figure out what to do. I decided I’d keep you long enough for Austin Brand to be hurt; then I’d release you.”
Kaytano pulled her to him. “I kept putting it off. I wanted you in my life. I wanted to have you sleeping in the bed next to mine for a few more days, a few more weeks. I wanted to see your golden hair in the sunlight, to watch you play in the water, to hear your soft, sweet voice. I wanted you. I wanted you to belong to me. I was in agony and it was all I could do to keep my hands off you. I fought it, Suzette, I swear I did.”
“I know, Kaytano, I fought it, too.” Suzette nodded.
“Then came the time when I was gone from camp for three days. It was the longest three days of my life, and when I returned and saw you, I knew. I knew when you stood looking up at me that you were glad to see me. You cleaned the dust from my lips and I decided at that moment that I had to have you.” Kaytano kissed her hair and murmured, “I suppose I’ve done very little right in my life.”
“Darling,” she said softly, “Satanta killed Luke Barnes. You didn’t.”
“And Austin Brand killed my mother, you didn’t; I’m sorry I’ve made you pay.”
“I love you, Kaytano. Right or wrong I shall always love you.”
Kaytano hugged her tightly. “And I love you, Suzette. It is right.”
34
For a time they embraced, clinging to each other. Kaytano spoke first. “If you love me, Suzette, will you go to my home and spend the rest of your life with me?” He kissed her neck.
“When do we leave?” She touched the thick hair at his temple. “And where is home?”
Kaytano raised his head. “I have a little hacienda in Mexico. You’ll like it, Suzette. It’s hot and desolate, but private. The solitude is restful.” He added thoughtfully, “Of course, should you become bored, I will take you into the city or to the ocean.”
Suzette locked her arms around his neck. “My dear Kaytano, I can’t imagine being bored with you. All I want is to be with you in a private, desolate place. It sounds perfect—a small, modest place hidden somewhere in the hills. I’ll cook and clean, Kaytano. I’ll make my clothes.”
Kissing her lightly, he whispered, “We’ll see.”
“Kaytano.” Suzette pulled up on the reins of the palomino mare she rode. “Is it much farther?”
Kaytano reined Darkness alongside the palomino. His black eyes were dancing and he smiled impishly at Suzette. “We’re almost there.”
Suzette rubbed her tired neck. After days spent traveling on the high desert basin between the two giant arms of the Sierra Madre mountains, she was anxious to get to Kaytano’s hacienda. They’d said their good-byes at the Texas camp and started down the old Comanche trail into Mexico. Over rough, beautiful terrain they made slow, unhurried progress, Kaytano proudly pointing out mountain peaks, caves, gypsum dunes, and a couple of small settlements.
Suzette looked about. She saw no signs of a house or hut, only the rugged desert, a slight barren ridge a hundred yards ahead. Skeptically, she looked at Kaytano. He was still smiling. “I suppose that grin means that when I top that ridge, I’ll see your home.”
“Clever woman. The house is on the edge of the Llano del Guaje. I can stand on my patio and see for a hundred miles, yet as you are aware, an intruder has to be right at my front door before he can see the house.”
“You planned it that way because you’re in constant danger?”
Kaytano laughed. “Suzette, we’re in no danger here. I don’t raid and rob in Mexico, only in Texas.”
Suzette tilted her head. “Then the authorities here don’t bother you; t
hey don’t try to send you to Texas?”
“Hardly. I’m a model citizen in this land and an accepted, sought-after guest among the aristocracy of Mexico. The federates and ruralalies consider me a friend.”
“Kaytano, can I sleep beside you peacefully each night with no worry of them taking you from me?”
“As long as we’re in Mexico.”
“Then, darling, let’s stay in Mexico forever.”
“I can think of nothing I’d like better. Come, let’s go home.”
He spurred Darkness and Suzette’s mare fell in beside him. They galloped rapidly to the gentle ridge, and when they topped it Suzette again pulled up on the reins. “Kaytano!” she shouted.
Laughing, Kaytano turned Darkness back. He loved the shocked expression on her face. She sat speechless, staring at the sprawling adobe home in the distance. Backlit by a setting sun, its salmon-colored walls were bathed in pinks and purples. The enormous dwelling was brightly lit; each tall window glowed. Majestic, the hacienda sat alone on the desert floor, a glorious mirage come alive. Soft, sweet guitar music floated on the quiet desert air.
When Suzette found her voice, she turned to Kaytano. “This…?”
“Yes, Suzette, our home, Cielo Vista.”
“It’s huge…and beautiful.”
“And solid,” he stated proudly. “I designed the house myself and I assure you it will be standing long after you and I are gone. Our children’s children will grow old in that house and still it will be as it is today.”
“I love you, Kaytano,” she said happily. She kicked her horse and bolted across the desert. Kaytano sat watching her, her laughter mixing with the sound of guitar music. He inhaled deeply of the clean desert air and took a minute to remind himself this was not a dream. It was real. He was home at last. The beautiful blond girl whose laughter filled his heart with joy belonged to him. This was her home, too. Kaytano rode to join her.