Comanche Moon

by Virginia Brown

  “You’re mine, Deborah. You’ll stay.” She pushed the hair from her eyes. “No. I won’t. I won’t bring a child into a home where it will be hated.” Without warning, Diamond’s hand crashed against her face and sent her reeling. Lights exploded in front of her eyes, and she reached out for something to grab but nothing was there. Her head slammed against wood, and she heard the loud crack. As she slid down the wall to a crumpled heap on the floor, she heard Diamond repeat through clenched teeth, “You’ll stay, all right.”

  Though the nights were chill, the days were still warm with sunshine and temperate breezes. Zack felt the heat on his bare shoulders as he loaded the buckboard for Sally.

  She came out of the house with a basket over her arm, stumbling slightly when she saw him there beside the wagon. “Zack. Aren’t you going with me?” “No.”

  She didn’t say anything for a moment, just gazed at him with her calm green eyes. He paused, and looked up at her. A faint flush stained her cheeks, and he lifted a brow.

  “Did I say something wrong, Sal?” She shook her head, and her voice came out in a rusty whisper. “No, you didn’t. It’s just that—silly, I know, but you reminded me suddenly of Marty.

  He used to chop wood without his shirt, and . . . and I guess it made me remember things, that’s all.” Zack knew better than to ask what kind of things. He’d seen that look in her eyes, and knew what she felt. It was one of the reasons he’d decided to move on. He didn’t want to hurt her by taking what would be given freely. It would mean more to her than to him, and she’d done enough for him already.

  He finished loading the last bushel of apples she was taking into town to sell, then reached casually for his shirt and shrugged into it. “I won’t be here when you get back,” he said softly, and saw her hands curve tightly around the basket handle.

  “When will you be back?”

  “I won’t.”

  “I see.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “I wish you the very best, Zack. You deserve it.”

  “There are some folks who’d disagree with you,” he said with a mocking twist of his mouth. She stepped forward and put a finger over his lips.

  “Don’t. There are always people who hate what they fear. You’re a good, decent man. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

  “I know what I would have done without yours. I would have died and the buzzards would be making nests with my bones out there somewhere.” Zack leaned a shoulder against the side of the buckboard. “You need a husband, Sal. A man who can fix things for you and keep you company on cold nights. You need a man who’ll be there for you.”

  “Do you have someone in mind?” she asked lightly. “I’m sure I could find the time to interview one or two.” She smiled, shaking her head. “I did find out that I wasn’t as content by myself as I thought.”

  “Maybe it’s just the right time for you now. The Comanche say there’s a season for everything, even love. You can’t grow something if it’s not time for it, whether it’s apples, corn, or love.”

  “Sage advice.”

  He rubbed his thumb over his jawline. “At times. Like everything else, you have to know when to listen. And how much to hear.”

  “When are you going to listen?” His thumb stilled. “What do you mean?”

  “Deborah. You love her. She only married that man because she thought you were dead. Go to her. Tell her you love her, Zack. I can’t stand seeing that lost look in your eyes.” Straightening, he glared at her, and she took a step back at his fierce look and harsh growl. “You don’t know Deborah. She’s made vows, and she would never break them.”

  “I think you’re wrong.” Sally swallowed, and her chin came up defensively. “Look, I never said anything because it’s not my place to give out unwanted advice, but you started it. And besides—I care about you. I’d like to see you happy.”

  “Happiness is for fools and children, not grown men.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Zack Banning. Happiness is for whoever has the guts to grab at it. Don’t tell me, I know. If you hadn’t come into my life and shown me what I was missing, I probably would have stayed out here alone until I

  dried up and blew away. Now I know that’s not what I want. I want more. I want a man at my side who loves me, and a man I can love.”

  “That’s good for you, but it doesn’t work that way for me.”

  “Bulldust. It will if you let it. You’re good at taking care of yourself in other ways, Zack. Take care of yourself in the most important thing of your life.” He looked down and began buttoning his shirt, trying to keep his voice neutral. “I appreciate your advice, Sal. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “No, you won’t. You’re stubborn as a mule, and you think she’s lost to you forever. Well, if you just sit back and sulk, she will be.” His head shot up, and his eyes narrowed ominously. “I think this discussion has gone far enough.”

  “So do I.” Sally’s green eyes were shiny with tears, and he felt a twist in his gut. “You’re man enough to fight for men who pay you, but you’re not man enough to fight for your woman. I misjudged you.” Clenching his hands, Zack stuffed them into his pockets before he gave in to the urge to pound the buckboard with frustration. He inhaled deeply, and looked away from her, to the hills where he’d lain for weeks halfway between life and death. Only the thoughts of Deborah had kept him going then, the driving urgency to survive and go after her.

  Maybe Sally was right.

  He looked back at her, and saw that the tears had spilled onto her cheeks. This was the first time she had ever spoken to him of Deborah.

  Before, she’d always listened when he’d wanted to talk about her. He wondered if it had hurt her to hear him. God, he was such a bastard at times.

  He knew how Sally felt, yet he’d stayed on because it was easy, because he was hurt and alone and miserable. It would have been even easier for Deborah to do the same thing.

  Reaching out, Zack pulled Sally up against him and held her tightly.

  There was only affection in the embrace, and he patted her back with a comforting hand.

  “I don’t think there’s anything I can do, Sal,” he admitted finally.

  “Unless I kidnap her, and I don’t think she’d want that.” She pulled away, slightly embarrassed, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. “You won’t know until you try it. Besides, if you love her, I’m willing to bet she’d get over it quick enough. She did before, didn’t she?” Zack smiled. He’d told Sally everything, everything she hadn’t already heard when he was delirious in those first days.

  “I didn’t kidnap her. Spotted Pony did. I just bought her from him.”

  “Lucky girl. I think you need to do it yourself this time.” He cupped her chin in his palm. “I’m a lucky man to have a friend like you, Sally Martin.”

  “Yes,” she said briskly, “you are. Now go after her. And invite me to your wedding. Or the christening of your first child.” Zack reached for his gunbelt and strapped it around his lean waist, then shrugged into his leather vest. When he had his hat on and tilted to shade his eyes, he untied the gray from the sturdy new fence that penned in the goats and swung to its back.

  The stallion snorted, prancing eagerly in the early morning light. Zack controlled him with his knees, and gave Sally a slight smile.

  “See you, Sal.”

  “Are you going for her?”

  “Maybe someday. Right now, it’s time I settled an old score.” Ignoring the sudden pinched look on Sally’s face, Zack wheeled his gray in the direction of Don Francisco’s hacienda. He didn’t look back for a while, and when he did, he saw that Sally’s buckboard had taken the fork in the road that led to Sirocco instead of San Ysabel.

  “Damn,” he muttered. What was she doing? Sirocco was filled with Velazquez men and Diamond men, and the town was a powder keg waiting to blow. He considered going after her and convincing her to go to San Ysabel, but recognized that he’d given up any rights to advise her by lea
ving.

  Sally was no fool. If she was headed to Sirocco, she had a good reason for it.

  After a brief hesitation, he wheeled the gray down the slope and continued riding toward the Velazquez hacienda. He would figure out what he wanted to do and how on the way. He just knew that he intended to do some thing. Francisco Velazquez would not be allowed to get away with murder, and neither would the two men who had shot him and left him to die in the desert.

  Chapter 25

  Sheriff Roy Carpenter thumped a finger on his desk and frowned. “Two bodies were found a few days ago, Banning. You know anything about that?” Zack’s expression was bland. “Why do you ask me?” Carpenter glanced up, his eyes shrewd beneath bushy gray brows. “Since they work for Velazquez, and have been known to boast they were responsible for killing Zack Banning, it occurred to me that you just might.” Zack shrugged. “Many men have died lately since Diamond decided he wanted Velazquez lands.”

  “Yeah, but none of them were killed like these were.” He peered at Zack closely. “These two men were staked out like they’d been killed by Comanche. They didn’t die easy, and since you’re a ’breed—forgive me if I’m wrong.”

  Zack ignored his sarcasm. He stood up. “Forgiveness you’ll have to get from a priest. I’m all out.”

  “So I understand.” Carpenter didn’t move, just gazed at Zack with assessing eyes that made him tense. “You know, Banning, you’re not quite what I expected.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “Don’t be. When you came to town the first time, I thought you were gonna be like all the rest of ’em, looking to make a name for yourself and pick up some easy cash.” He shrugged. And after you shot Braden, I was sure of it.

  Now, I don’t know.”

  He leaned forward, elbows on his desk and his fingers forming a steeple.

  “Why are you still here? It ain’t just Don Francisco.” Zack stared at him without replying. His cold gaze made Carpenter shake his head and sigh with resignation.

  “Go on, Banning. If I find out you’re even a hair into this trouble, I’ll lock you up so quick your head will spin.” When Zack stepped out into the crisp sunshine, he tugged on his hat and nodded to the ranger who’d brought him in. The man gave a surly grunt, obviously displeased to see that his quarry was being released so quickly.

  Zack’s mouth twitched in a faint smile. He felt better. Alfredo and his vicious compadré had paid for what they’d tried to do to him, and that left only Don Francisco.

  He wondered if the ranger had been surprised that he’d come with him so easily. He shouldn’t have been. Zack had left a trail a blind man could follow. Don Francisco would have heard about it by now, and would be expecting him. He could almost smell his fear from here.

  A cruel smile curved his mouth, and he felt a fierce exultation. There were still some pleasures left in life after all.

  “Here, Miz Diamond. A lady left this for you. Said I was to give it to you the next time I saw you.” Surprised, Deborah took the small square envelope Mr. Potter held out to her. “For me? Who was she?”

  “I dunno. Only seen her oncet before. She came in with Zack Banning a little while back.”

  Deborah’s hand shook, and she glanced over her shoulder to where Dexter stood talking with Frank Albright, one of his hired killers. He hadn’t heard. Any mention of Zack made him furious, and she had no desire to provoke him again. The truce between them was uneasy enough as it was.

  “Thank you, Mr. Potter,” she said when it seemed as if he was waiting for something. She looked up and saw Potter staring at her gravely.

  “If I was you, Miz Diamond, I’d stay away from Zack Banning,” he said after a moment, his voice low. “The man’s a killer.”

  “There seems to be a lot of that going around,” Deborah returned coldly.

  Potter nodded. “Yeah. But not the way he done it. Took two of the Velazquez men and staked ’em out on the desert. I heard it wasn’t very pretty, and they musta regretted they ever messed with him long afore they died.

  Banning’s part Comanch, ya know.”

  “I heard. Thank you for my mail.” Deborah stuffed the envelope into her reticule and turned away, fighting the nausea that rose in her throat. She could imagine how the men had died, and though she didn’t blame Zack—in one way was glad—she still shuddered at the cold cruelty that could torture another human being. Another difference between them to think about, she supposed.

  Zack would always battle between two very different cultures, between his white mother’s upbringing, and his Comanche father’s beliefs. He’d spent his first years at his mother’s knee, but the last years had been spent learning to live as a Comanche. Would he ever be able to find peace in either world?

  She hoped so. She loved him. And she loved the child they had created between them, the small life that grew inside her and warmed her heart. It was all she had of Zack. All she would ever have of him. When her child was old enough, she would tell it of its father, and hope her child did not have the same decisions to make.

  “Where you goin’?”

  Deborah stopped and looked up at Dexter. His eyes were cold and dark, and she stilled the nervous flutter of her hands. He’d only brought her into Sirocco to sign legal papers in the courthouse, and had kept a close eye on her every movement. He treated her with icy contempt now, but she felt his gaze resting on her frequently.

  “I thought I would step outside and wait for you on the bench in front of the store,” she said coolly. “I’d like to sit down.” Diamond grunted. “Go with her, Albright. See that nothin’ happens to my sweet little wife.”

  His sarcasm warmed Deborah’s cheeks, but she didn’t comment as she opened the door to the jangling of the bell. Her nerves were stretched tautly, and she wished Judith had come with them. She would have served as a buffer between them. Dexter liked Judith, and there was an easy camaraderie between them that often made Deborah feel like an outsider. By her own choice, she realized.

  She sank to the hard wooden comfort of the long bench stretched in front of the store and blankly gazed at the dusty street. The letter in her purse felt heavy, and she wished she was alone so that she could read it. Was it from Zack? Potter had said the woman was with him.

  A pang struck her, and she felt suddenly foolish. As if she had a right to be jealous of him being with another woman when she was married to someone else. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the front of the store. She could hear the jangle of Albright’s spurs as he leaned against the wall beside her. Several minutes passed as she listened to the sounds of horses and wagons and people passing. Then Albright stirred, his spurs rattling as he straightened.

  “Goddam,” she heard him say softly, then laugh. She opened her eyes, looking up as the doorbell jangled again and Albright stuck his head inside and called to Diamond. “Hey, boss—you might wanna come out here a minute.”

  When Dexter stepped onto the porch, Deborah looked away from his quick glance at her. And saw Zack Banning.

  Her heart rose in her throat as she heard Dexter’s low, vicious curse and saw Zack striding down the wooden sidewalk with that loose, easy stride she knew so well. His lean grace and dark good looks gathered more than one sidelong glance from feminine eyes, and Deborah felt her heartbeat escalate alarmingly.

  However, feminine eyes weren’t the only interested looks he got, and several of the men paused to look after him. Zack didn’t look like most gunmen; his holster was worn and plain, the butt of his deadly revolver bore no notches on the smooth handle. He wore tan denims, a brown chambray shirt, and an open leather vest that had seen better days. The only detour from the norm was his boots—knee-high moccasins that made his step light and soundless. A dark brown hat shaded his eyes and covered the thick mane of glossy black hair. Deborah shut her eyes briefly and prayed that he would not approach them.

  Her prayer went unanswered.

  “Banning.” Diamond’s voice rang out, and Deborah saw Zac
k switch direction. She looked down at her hands and saw that her knuckles were white as she clutched her purse with an almost frantic grip.

  Zack stopped only a few feet away, his voice cool. “Yeah?” Deborah could feel his eyes on her, and finally took a deep breath and lifted her head. She wasn’t prepared for the shock of seeing him again. Pain vibrated through her body like a jolt of lightning, and she steeled herself against it. She barely heard Dexter’s growling voice, or Zack’s raspy reply.

  “Heard two of Don Francisco’s men got themselves kilt a few days ago,” Dexter was saying.

  “I heard the same thing.”

  “Reckon how that happened?”

  “Sheriff Carpenter has some men working on it.” Zack shifted slightly on the balls of his feet, his voice wary. “I got the feeling you aren’t that interested in Velazquez’s men, Diamond. What do you really want?” Dexter took a step forward, and hatred scored his voice as he said softly,

  “I want you dead, Banning.” Zack shrugged. “You’ve got a lot of company.” A small sound escaped Deborah, and she surged to her feet. Her voice was choked. “Dexter, please—I’d like to go home now.” She felt his hand on her shoulder, then lower on her waist as he pulled her up against him. Diamond’s voice was low and intimate.

  “Sure thing, sugar. I just want to talk to your old friend here a minute.” His hand shifted upward, his fingers grazing her breast, and Deborah stood there like stone as he fondled her. She could see Zack stiffen, and heard Albright laugh softly.