The Legend Of Love

by Ryan, Nan

  Reluctant to tell her, West glanced at her, then admitted, “Ortiz said Lancaster is dead.”

  “Dear God!” Elizabeth murmured, afraid even to ask how he died.

  With the last traces of dying light, the riders came upon the gaping mouth of a dark, open cave and knew they had found the caverns of the legend. Dismounting, they stood on the rim, peering into the yawning blackness, wondering what fate waited deep down inside the uncharted abyss.

  Even the talkative Grady was uncharacteristically quiet as they set up camp near the cave’s wide mouth. Looking down into that inky darkness was an unsettling experience and the faint, strangled cries of the cave swallows fluttering from perch to perch on the cliffs above made them all a little edgy.

  Bedtime came and a jittery Elizabeth decided she wasn’t about to place her bedroll discreetly away from the men. She slept right beside West, lying so close she was able to hold tightly to his hand until she fell asleep. Directly across the fire from them, Grady and Edmund stretched out, Grady still wearing his holstered Colt.

  Taos didn’t lie down. The big Navajo agreed to stand watch through the night, then go to sleep at dawn. The Winchester rifle resting between his knees, he sat propped up against a dead tree trunk, his unblinking black eyes focused on the cave’s dark mouth.

  When the stars faded and dawn was not far off, Grady awakened. Opening his eyes he was surprised to see Edmund stretching and rising to his feet. Grady threw back his blanket, rose, and nodding to Edmund, walked over to tell Taos he could go get some sleep. The big Navajo nodded, handed Grady the rifle, stretched out right where he was, closed his eyes, and fell immediately into a deep slumber.

  Whispering quietly so he wouldn’t disturb the others, Edmund said to Grady over their morning coffee, “Grady, it may be hours before West wakes up. I don’t want to wait. I’m going down and have a look around.”

  Grady frowned and shook his head violently. “No, you can’t do that, Ed! No tellin’ what you might find. It ain’t safe to be goin’ in no cave alone.”

  “I’m not frightened,” said Edmund. Then he added, “My brother’s down there, Grady. I have to find him, to see for myself …” His words trailed away and the expression on his face was one of deep worry.

  “I understand,” whispered Grady, “really I do. Want me to wake West and—”

  “No, I won’t hear of it. West and Elizabeth got only a couple of hours sleep last night. West is tired; he needs to rest.”

  Grady screwed up his face, stroked his long white beard, and finally said, “Tell you what, why don’t we let ’em sleep and you an’ me go on down in the cave together. Hellfire, we could get down inside, have a look around, and be back topside in time for breakfast with Sonny and Elizabeth. What do you say?”

  Relieved, Edmund said, “Let’s grab some rope and a safety lantern and be on our way.”

  The sun was high in the sky before West finally began to stir. He lay stretched out flat on his back, his head turned to one side. Struggling to open his eyes, West finally raised his thick lashes.

  Filling the entire scope of his sleepy vision was an angelic face with one tangle of flaming red hair sheafed across sleeping eyes, shining strands falling around an ivory throat.

  Still more asleep than awake, West rolled over, brushed her hair back, and covered her soft mouth in a warm kiss. His drowsy gray eyes closing again, he sighed as her lips opened beneath his. She moaned and tilted her head slightly, sliding the tip of her tongue between his teeth and into his mouth.

  Eyes still tightly closed, Elizabeth sleepily snuggled to him, kissing him dreamily, while in her mind’s eye she could see his dark, handsome face, the blue-black hair, the straight nose, the sensual lips that were moving so warmly on hers.

  She inhaled the unique fragrance of him and lay there willing and ready to play, supposing that, since all was totally silent around them, it was very early and the others were still sleeping. Kissing him fully on the mouth, Elizabeth licked at West’s lips and sighed when his hand rubbed across the front of her shirt.

  Mouth sweetly fused with his, her lashes lifted to see that his silver eyes were wide open, looking at her. It was so wildly exciting, her heart began to pound. For a few seconds more he continued to look at her as he kissed her. Then his lips lifted an inch from her own, his hand covered her soft right breast, and he whispered, “I want you. Let’s slip away before the others stir.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Will you?”

  “Of course,” she murmured, and he smiled, lowered his head, and kissed her throat.

  Lips moving against her warm flesh, he lovingly warned her, “Sweetheart, when I get you alone, I’m going to—”

  “Help! West, Taos, help!” Grady’s raspy shout shattered their warm cocoon of romance. “Help us! Oh, God, help!”

  West was on his feet immediately, as was Taos. Both men ran directly toward the sound of Grady’s voice, which was coming from the cave’s large entrance.

  Elizabeth, on her feet, hands pressed to her cheeks, saw Grady’s white head and Edmund’s blond one bob into sight just as West and Taos reached the cave’s entrance. Limping badly, Grady supported Edmund, an arm around his waist, struggling under the heavy burden.

  Elizabeth screamed when she saw the blood saturating Edmund’s shirt, and she felt her legs buckle beneath her. But she quickly got control of herself and grabbed a canteen of water and a towel, ready to help. She saw the strong Taos lift Edmund up into his arms as if he were no heavier than a child. Taos carried him to a spread bedroll and gently laid him down while West supported the hobbling Grady.

  Bleeding badly but fully conscious, Edmund unashamedly wept as he told them that his only brother had become a deranged and highly dangerous madman.

  “Don’t talk, Ed,” said West. “Save your strength.”

  Grady, grimacing from the pain of a broken leg, explained what had happened when he and Edmund had awakened before dawn and decided to go down in the caverns.

  Once inside, they got so caught up with the wondrous sights and exploring the many underground rooms and corridors, they became temporarily separated.

  “I was lookin’ at a still pool that mirrored them limestone icicles hangin’ from the ceilin’ when I heard Ed’s scream. I went a-runnin’ and I seen Ed strugglin’ with a … a—”

  “My brother is like nothing human,” said Edmund miserably, as Taos worked to stanch the flow of blood from the knife wound just below his ribs. “His hair and his fingernails have grown long. He’s as pale as snow and as filthy as a beggar.”

  Edmund swallowed hard and tears spilled down his cheeks. Elizabeth, kneeling beside him, pressed a wet cloth to his perspiring forehead, her heart aching for him.

  “Even when I saw what he has become,” said Edmund, “I didn’t believe that Dane would actually harm me. Not his own brother. I begged him to come with me, to leave the caverns, to let me help him.” Edmund’s red-rimmed eyes closed, then opened again.

  “He accused me of being greedy, of wanting to steal his gold. Nothing I said convinced him that he was wrong. I told him I love him and I’d get help for him, but he … he … his eyes grew wild and he drew a dagger from under the long cape he wore and he … he … stabbed me. He would have killed me if Grady hadn’t heard me scream and come running.”

  Nodding, Grady said, “I started shoutin’ as I ran and I guess that scared Dane off. By the time I got there, he was runnin’ away and I didn’t see nothin’ of him but his back; just that long dirty hair, black cape billowin’ out behind him, and the dagger dripping blood. And there Ed was on his knees clutching his belly, blood a-pourin’ between his fingers.

  “I helped him up and I was in such a hurry to get him topside, I took a misstep, fell, and busted my danged leg.”

  Working with quiet efficiency, Taos cleaned the deep knife wound and bandaged Edmund’s ribs with strips from one of Elizabeth’s white petticoats while West made a splint for Grady’s broken leg.

  As West worked, h
e said, “Taos, the closest hospital is in Malaga. You’ll leave right away, we’ll rig up a travois for Ed. I think Grady will be able to ride; I’ll put him in the saddle. Take Elizabeth with you and—”

  “No,” Elizabeth quickly interrupted, “I’m not going.”

  “Yes, you are.” West never looked up, just kept securing Grady’s broken leg to the splint. Addressing Edmund, he said softly, “Now, Ed, don’t be worrying about Dane. I’ll go down and bring him out of the cave.” Finally he glanced at Elizabeth. “I don’t want you around when I bring Dane up.”

  “If you’re staying, I am staying,” Elizabeth said, looking him squarely in the eye. Softly, she added, “Whether you want me to or not.”

  Elizabeth stayed.

  She and West watched the trio ride away. Edmund, unconscious now, was cradled in the quickly constructed travois behind Taos’s horse. Grady rode with his splinted leg dangling beside the empty stirrup.

  “Don’t worry,” said West, as they rode out of sight. “Taos will get them to Malaga and the hospital.”

  “How could Dane attempt to murder his own brother?”

  West’s comforting arm went around her slender shoulders. “He didn’t, darling. The monster Ed described is no longer Dane Curtin.”

  She looked up at him. “Quarternight, you’re an imposter; you’re actually a perceptive and sensitive man.”

  He grinned. “I have my moments.”

  44

  GENTLY CUPPING THE BACK of Elizabeth’s head, West said, “Promise you’ll do exactly as I tell you.” She didn’t answer. “Elizabeth?”

  “I can’t,” she said, “I won’t. Not if you’re going to say I can’t go down in the—”

  Her sentence was never finished. West grabbed her upper arms and spun her to face him, his face turning hard as stone. “Don’t,” he said, “make the mistake of thinking you can run over me, just because I love you.”

  “West, I certainly don’t—”

  “Yes, you do, but you’re wrong, Elizabeth. Dead wrong.” He continued to hold her in a viselike grip, his silver eyes dark with emotion. “I should have sent you with Taos; I went against my better judgment.”

  Looking up at him, she said, “Darling, I wanted to stay here with you.”

  “You can’t have everything you want, Elizabeth. I let you stay, but I shouldn’t have.” His grip remained tight, the strong fingers cutting into her flesh. “I will not allow you to go down into that cavern.” Abruptly, his snapping slate-gray eyes softened and he pulled her into his close embrace, pressing her head to his chest. Against her hair he said, “Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart, I can’t risk something happening to you.” He hugged her tightly. “I’m so afraid I’ll lose you, like—”

  “You won’t, my love,” Elizabeth said, thrilling to the forceful beating of his heart beneath her cheek. “I’ll stay right here above ground and wait for you.”

  Sighing with relief, West instructed, “Here, keep Grady’s Colt .44 with you. Remain at the entrance of the cave with the gun always in your hand. Under no circumstances are you to go farther into the caverns. Fire at anyone except me who tries to get near you. Will you do that?”

  “I will,” she said, “but I wish you’d take the gun.”

  She was still wishing he’d take their only weapon when West kissed her quickly and walked away, winding his way down the narrow zigzag path descending into the cool throat of the caverns. Elizabeth looked up over her shoulder at the sun’s location. It was directly overhead.

  Straight up noon.

  Pride made West assume a demeanor of self-confidence as he strode purposefully down the slanting path. The woman he loved was watching, so he went out of his way to appear totally calm and unafraid. As he moved beyond the sun’s reach and into the shadowy emptiness, he wondered if all men were like him. Did they put on a brave show of courage at times when they felt weak and helpless?

  Safety lantern in one hand, rope slung over his shoulder, he continued to drop farther down the narrow path into the eerie darkness until the cave’s wide, sunny entrance—and Elizabeth—was no longer in sight. Even then he continued on his way, determined he’d not think about his unreasonable fear of tunnels and caves.

  But as West dropped lower into the depths of the dark, silent world, the old debilitating anxiety rose up to overwhelm him. His knees and hands began to tremble. The awesome silence and solid blackness were too much. He stopped, sagged against a rocky wall, and fought for breath, his chest constricting painfully. He felt sick and panicky, unable to think or to act. His heartbeat doubled and thumped so forcefully against his chest wall, he was afraid it would explode.

  His head started spinning. He became dizzy and feared he might black out. Anxiously he sucked for breath, imagining that there was no air way down here in this dark netherworld, just as there had been none in that small, dark tunnel beneath Andersonville Prison.

  He felt the caverns were closing behind him, that the entrance above was disappearing, caving in on itself, burying him under tons and tons of rock. His heart racing, sweat pouring off his face, he lifted the lantern in his shaking hand and waved it about, attempting to ward off the close, smothering darkness.

  Knowing he had to get a grip on himself, he gasped for air, tore at the choking laces of his shirt, and said aloud, “You can do it.” He kept repeating the litany in his brain, you can do it, you can do it. Soon it seemed as if the entire underground cavern was shouting, “You can do it, you can do it,” the sound echoing through every connected room and mazelike passageway and narrow corridor and tiny crawl space.

  Thousands of stalactites and stalagmites took up the chorus, mocking him, ridiculing him, knowing what a pitiful coward he actually was. Knowing he couldn’t make himself go one more step into the confusing labyrinth of passages leading farther down into this ominous underworld kingdom of darkness and death.

  Trembling, West forced himself to move one weak foot forward, then the other. Like an infant just learning to walk, he toddled shakily forward, arms held out to balance himself, eyes round as saucers. It was hard, but it became a little easier as he made himself doggedly go on.

  He moved down a dark, wide passageway, looking cautiously about. He shuddered involuntarily when the swinging lantern, casting yellow light on limestone ledges and shallow crevices on both sides of the narrow path, illuminated coiled diamondback rattlers and black widow spiders taking refuge from the desert heat.

  On he went, realizing finally that he could breathe, that he was breathing. There was air down here. He wasn’t going to suffocate. He wasn’t going to die. Gratefully, he pulled long, revitalizing breaths deep into his chest and felt his heart begin to slow its rapid beating. He felt a little strength returning to his weak, watery legs.

  Confidence swiftly growing, in no time West began to feel fine. At long last he had come face to face with his worst fear and had triumphed over it! Heartened by the knowledge, he grinned and headed down the path armed with his old self-assurance.

  And walked straight into a spider web that covered and clung damply to his face, bringing a loud shout of terror from him. But it was quickly followed by a nervous laugh of embarrassment.

  Then he heard the faint flutter of wings. Thousands of tiny wings.

  Elizabeth looked again at the sky.

  The white-hot sun had moved from directly overhead halfway to the western horizon. It had surely been three or four hours since West had disappeared into the cavern’s mouth. He should have been back by now. She was tense from waiting, sick with worry.

  Sighing, she peered once more into the yawning blackness below. She saw nothing. But finally, after another half hour had passed, she heard what she had been listening for all afternoon. The sound of West’s feet striking the stone path. A smile of relief quickly coming to her face, Elizabeth laid the gun aside and happily shot to her feet.

  When the top of his head appeared, Elizabeth eagerly ran to meet him, shouting, “Darling, darling, I was so worried. I thoug
ht you … I … I …” She stopped short and stared in horror as a long-haired, wild-eyed man wearing a flowing black cape and carrying an ebony leather riding crop approached her.

  He reached her before she had time to think, before she could run back for the gun. In seconds he stood directly before her. Pale fingers with long dirty nails tightly enclosed her right wrist and Elizabeth was forcefully yanked up against the vile creature who smiled down at her, teeth bared, wolflike.

  He brought the leather whip up under her chin and said, “Just where did Ortiz find you, pet?” His gleaming green eyes settled on her red hair. “I must reward him. I’m very pleased with his selection. You’re far prettier than the others.”

  “My God,” Elizabeth murmured, recognizing the familiar voice. “Dane? Is it you?”

  He blinked at her in confusion. His eyes narrowed, and he studied her face. “My lovely, how dare you mention the name of the Pale Master? Have I had you before?”

  “It can’t be true,” breathed Elizabeth in disbelief. “Dane, what has happened to you? Dane … my God, Dane Curtin!”

  “Elizabeth? Is that you, my love?” His fevered green eyes took on an expression of added excitement. “Why, it is! You’ve come to me at last. How I’ve waited for this. I’ve so much to show you. Come.”

  “No!” she screamed, her brain starting to function. She tried to break from his tight grasp. “Let me go!” she shouted.

  “Let you go?” He was insulted. “You’re my wife, Elizabeth. This, finally, is our honeymoon.”

  “No, no, please,” she begged, her senses assailed with the sour smell of him, her heart frozen with fear. “You can’t do this, you …”

  Frowning, Dane wrapped a hand over her mouth, quieting her, forcing her back against him. He reached inside his black cape and tugged loose the wide gold sash from around his waist, withdrew it, and swiftly gagged Elizabeth. When she could make only soft pleading sounds in the back of her throat, he pulled her silver concho belt free of her suede trousers and used it to truss her hands behind her.