“Of course it does.”
“How many more men do you love?” Trinity was embarrassed with himself. He was acting like a jealous lover.
“Do you always twist people’s words?”
“Not honest people’s.”
“As many lies as you tell, how can you tell the difference?”
“I only lie when I have to.”
“A lie is a lie, no matter why you tell it.”
“How about you?”
“I haven’t told any lies, to you or anybody else. Nobody except myself.” She smiled unexpectedly. “Funny, it was your lies which stopped me lying to myself.”
“How’s that?” Trinity asked. He didn’t know what she was talking about.
“All that stuff you told me back at the ranch, about other people and places and having a future and hope. They were lies, but they woke me up to the lies I’d been telling myself. You see, I’d told myself since no one believed me it was all right to run away, that I didn’t mind living with fear. I also told myself I was happy in Mountain Valley, that I would marry Buc and settle down to be a good wife and mother. I told myself it was all right to live with the charge of cowardice and murder hanging over my head. I told myself I didn’t care what others thought of me, that I could be happy there the rest of my life.”
“And what I said caused you to change your mind?”
“Oh, you didn’t mean to do anything admirable. You only wanted to get me off guard so you could kidnap me. You succeeded. You can take pride in that.”
But he couldn’t. Nothing she did made any sense.
Unless she was telling the truth.
But if she were telling the truth about this, was she also telling the truth about the murder?
If she were telling the truth, everything made sense … except the murder.
Trinity shook his head to clear it of the speculation buzzing furiously in his brain. He couldn’t be mistaken in her character. The whole basis for what he did, his choice of people to bring in, the way he handled each situation—everything depended on his evaluation of the criminal involved. Never before had he been mistaken. Never before had he had cause to doubt his judgment. But he did now.
Suddenly the wall he had erected in his mind crumbled and the enormity of what he had been about to do struck him. He had been taking her back to die! It wasn’t Sheriff Sprague, Judge Blazer, the jury, or the Texas system of jurisprudence. It was he, Trinity Smith. He might as well have placed the noose around her neck with his own hands. He shuddered in horror.
Involuntarily, Trinity glanced at Victoria. She might be an outlaw to society, but like the cougar and the grizzly bear, she was a thing of wild beauty. It seemed a shame to squander it.
Like a wildflower bursting open to greet the warmth of a spring morning, she seemed too perfect to last. The delicate hint of mauve in her cheeks, the deep rose of her lips, the titian of her hair, all must fade before the searing heat of summer. He wanted to sit and stare at her, to drink it all in, before it slipped away.
It seemed like every man who knew her agreed with him. They were falling over themselves to fight for her. He had no difficulty understanding that. Hadn’t he already done the same?
Why? Because there was something good and honest and admirable about her which made him want to protect her.
“Do you think he’ll keep his word?” he asked Victoria, desperate to forget the doubts that nagged him.
“Red? I hope so, but I don’t know him very well. Buc keeps the men in the saddle most of the time. Anyway the young ones tend to keep their distance. Sometimes the ones who stay the farthest away are the ones most affected.”
“Do you think any of the others will join him?”
“I don’t know.”
“For a woman’s who’s the center of attention for a dozen men, you know very little.”
“What do you expect?” Victoria shot back. “You’ve never been an unmarried woman living in the midst of so many men—”
“I’ve known a few who were.”
“—or you’d know they enjoy engaging in fantasies. Everybody dreams of having his own ranch, of marrying a beautiful woman, especially when they could achieve both in a single stroke. Well they can’t help but think about it.”
“Modest young woman, aren’t you?”
“Do you want answers to your questions or do you want polite, ladylike denials like, ‘how could little old me possibly know what a great big man like you is talking about!’“
Her parody of an artful southern beauty brought a smile to his lips.
“Got it down pat, don’t you?”
“Every southern girl does. Just like every man learns to act like a tough hombre before he’s old enough to wear boots. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you imbibed it with your mother’s milk.”
“Mine disapproved.”
“Then it’s a good thing she’s not around to see how you turned out. Men like you are worse man lepers. You feed off other people’s misfortune, and you don’t even have the heart to see what you’re doing.”
“You seem to have conveniently forgotten the misery of your husband’s parents and brother. What about the son and brother they lost?”
“You seem to forget I was Jeb’s wife. What about my sense of loss, my feelings, my hurt?”
“Since you coolly put a shot into his head in the middle of a party-”
“I did not kill Jeb!” Victoria said loud enough to cause her horse to throw up its head. “And for the record, Myra is Judge Blazer’s second wife. Kirby is her son. But I don’t expect you to believe anything I say”
They rode in silence for the rest of the afternoon.
“I’ll cook if you’ll untie my hands,” Victoria said as Trinity helped her down from the horse.
“So you’ve finally decided to talk.”
“I’m a better cook,” Victoria said. “Besides, you’ve got the horses to tend to.”
He hesitated.
“I promise I won’t run away, and I won’t throw hot grease on you. I’m too tired to run very far even if I wanted to. All I want is something decent to eat. Then I want to sleep as long as I can.”
Trinity untied her wrists. He felt the reoccurring sense of shame when he saw the raw places on her skin.
“I’ve got some salve for that.”
“I’ll be okay unless you plan to tie me up again tomorrow.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m going to take your word you won’t try to run away.”
“Why the sudden trust?”
“I don’t know. I have an awful feeling I’m making a fool of myself, but I can’t see why you’d send your uncle back if you intended to escape.”
“I’m glad to see common sense can penetrate your brain after all.”
“My common sense tells me you’re lying,” Trinity responded more roughly than he’d intended. “It tells me nobody would be willing to go back to jail. It’s screaming at me right now that your uncle must be out there somewhere, that Red is a spy to keep us under surveillance, that sometime during the night they’re going to come down on us and my body will be left for the wolves.”
“Then why did you untie my hands?”
“Because I got the same lessons with my mother’s milk as Red back there. My father drummed it into my head that I should respect every female, treat her as a lady, defend her with my life. I keep thinking about my mother. She wouldn’t have hurt a fly unless it was about to hurt me or my father. Then I think she would have taken on the Mexican army by herself. Anyhow, I keep thinking how I would feel to see her riding with her wrists tied up, her skin all torn up by the rope.
“I also think about what you said to those men back there. I don’t know if you meant what you said, but any woman who could do that deserves a little trust.”
“Do you have a hard time trusting all women, or am I the only one?”
“I don’t trust anybody. But I guess I have a harder time with women.”
“What
did Queenie do to you?”
“What makes you think Queenie did anything to me?”
“She’s the only woman besides your mother you’ve ever mentioned. One of them is responsible for the way you feel, and it clearly isn’t your mother.”
“I don’t want to talk about Queenie.”
Then go take care of the horses. I’ll see about something to eat while you’re gone.”
Trinity took so long with the horses Victoria had dinner ready when he returned. They ate in an uneasy silence, unanswered questions hanging in the air.
“What happened?” Trinity asked.
“What do you mean?”
“The night Jeb was killed? What happened?”
“But I thought-”
“Forget everything I said. Just tell me what happened.”
Victoria hardly knew what to say. She had relived that night so many times, and she still didn’t have any answers.
“My father came to Texas from Alabama right after the war. I don’t really know why, but I think it had something to do with the fact he wouldn’t fight for the South. My mother died when I was born, so there was nothing to hold him. We were happy in Texas. Daddy loved the ranch, and I liked the freedom from all my aunts.
“Everything would have been fine except Daddy got sick. That’s when he made up his mind I ought to marry Jeb Blazer. Judge Blazer was the richest man in the county, and Jeb was his only son. Judge Blazer and Daddy were drinking buddies. They liked the same kind of whiskey. Anyway, they made an agreement between them and I went along.
“We weren’t supposed to be married until I turned eighteen, but Daddy died when I was seventeen. I went to live with the Judge. Daddy had arranged that, too. The Judge said it wasn’t right for an unmarried girl to five in a house with three men who weren’t related to her. Myra thought I should be allowed to wait until I was eighteen, but the Judge wouldn’t hear of it. That was the only time I ever heard them argue.
“By this time I had had a chance to see Jeb up close. My enchantment with him was wearing off. He was never unkind to me, but he didn’t seem interested in me or any of the things I enjoyed. I got along much better with Kirby.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s Myra’s son by her first husband. He was extremely handsome, but he was just a kid. Anyway, the Judge set the date, and Jeb and I were married. If he thought marriage would settle Jeb, he was wrong. Jeb actually got worse. He spent our wedding night, and every night after that, with his friends. He would spend the next day sleeping it off and then go out again after supper.
The night he was killed, he was having a party at the house. He didn’t want me to be part of it, but I came down anyway. The more he drank, the ruder he became. When I wouldn’t go back to my room, he said Myra always stayed in her room. Why couldn’t I behave like a lady, too! He, said that to me in front of his friends.
“Some of them tried to laugh it off. Others ignored it. I tried to reason with him, but he stalked off. I know now I shouldn’t have followed him, but I was upset. I had been married only seven days and hadn’t spent an hour alone with my husband. Instead of making him sympathize with me, it made him furious.
“He shouted at me and said he didn’t love me. He said a lot more that I’d rather not remember,” Victoria said, her voice unsteady. “Finally, I couldn’t listen to any more, so I turned to go back to the house. I had gone about a dozen steps when Chalk Gillet came around the corner of the house.
“Just as our eyes met, I heard a gunshot. I turned back in time to see Jeb stagger and start to fall. I ran to him, tried to hold him up, but he was too heavy. He fell to the ground taking me with him. I tried to move him, to sit him up, but I couldn’t. He must have been dead already.
“I looked around for Chalk, thinking he would help me, but he was gone. That’s when I saw the gun lying on the ground next to me. I don’t know how it got there or when. I can only assume the killer tossed it down while I was bending over Jeb. There was a lot of noise coming from the house, there was a band and a lot of fun and high jinks with the dancing so there could have been other things I didn’t hear, like someone moving about in the bushes.”
“There were bushes in the yard?”
“Lots of them. The Judge was born in Alabama, too. That’s why he and Daddy were so close. He thought Texas was too brown, so he had trees and shrubs planted everywhere. It took a man hours every day during the summer to water them. Anyway, I foolishly picked up the gun. I don’t know why. I suppose I picked it up because I couldn’t understand what it was doing there. Unfortunately, the Judge and Kirby found me kneeling over Jeb’s body with the gun in my hands.”
“What about Chalk Gillet?
“Nobody ever saw him again. I don’t know what happened, but if he’s alive, he knows I didn’t kill Jeb. I was looking straight into his eyes when the gun went off.”
“Wasn’t it strange for him to disappear like that?”
“Not particularly. Chalk wandered in just like you. Kirby said he’d asked for his pay that afternoon saying he’d been in one place too long.”
“Why should Kirby know that?”
“Kirby adored the judge. He followed him everywhere. He liked everything the Judge liked, did everything the Judge did. As young as he was, he sometimes acted as part foreman, part manager. Somebody had to since Jeb couldn’t, or wouldn’t, stay sober long enough to remember whether we were rounding up to count and brand calves or rounding up steers to sell.”
“And you have no idea who might have killed Jeb?”
“No.”
“Who stood to gain?”
“I guess Myra and Kirby, but they’re the only ones who believed in my innocence. Besides, the Judge is a relatively young man. He could go on living for twenty or thirty more years. There’s also no assurance he won’t give his money to some relative.”
“What about your money?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who gets your money?”
“Jeb if I died, but I didn’t.”
“Where is it now?”
The Judge still controls it, I guess.”
“And if you can’t go back to Texas to claim it, the Judge gets to keep it. So Kirby stands to get two inheritances if he can wait long enough.”
“It couldn’t have been Kirby. He was inside the house when the shot was fired.”
Trinity had been unaware of a small surge of hope until he felt it die away. He had to get a hold on himself. He wanted to believe Victoria’s story so badly he was ready to blame anybody, even a boy.
“I’m not surprised the Judge didn’t believe you. The only thing worse than being caught with the murder weapon in your hand is being seen when you actually fire the gun.”
“I know, but if you could find Chalk, I could prove I didn’t kill Jeb.”
Victoria stood up and yawned. “I can see Red’s fire from here. He’s awfully young to be out here by himself. Maybe you ought to check on him in the morning. I’d hate for anything to happen to him.”
“Un-huh,” Trinity grunted, deep in his own thoughts. He had never heard a more flimsy story, but the fact it was so weak and full of holes made him tend to believe it. Anyone with half a brain would come up with a much better story man that. And Victoria was much more than half smart.
But it was her words from earlier in the day which kept ringing in his brain. If she meant what she said to her uncle, if her willingness to go to Texas wasn’t a ruse to get him off guard, then she wasn’t the kind of woman to kill her husband.
The problem was Trinity didn’t know what kind of woman she was.
One thing he did know, though. He wouldn’t take her back to Texas to die.
Chapter Fifteen
Victoria barely said a word for the next two days. Trinity wanted to know more about Jeb Blazer’s death, but she wouldn’t talk about it again. She wouldn’t talk about anything.
He didn’t tie her up any more. It had nothing to do with the healing abrasi
ons on her wrists or the fact she did all the cooking and was always ready to break camp no matter how early he woke her. He didn’t tie her up because he didn’t want to.
He liked Victoria. He had finally admitted that to himself. It didn’t do any good to keep telling himself he had no place for a woman in his life, or that it was stupid to become involved with anyone under these circumstances.
Actually his feelings were stronger than mere like. He hadn’t fallen in love with her, though there were times when he told himself he was acting crazy enough to do just that. It probably came closer to a combination of lust and fascination, not the kind of thing you’d want to confess to a woman like Victoria.
He imagined she would respond nobly to a declaration of love. If she couldn’t return his passion, she would probably attempt to spare his feelings. She had made it clear to Red she considered him a brother, and he still adored her. But an admission that he both lusted after her and was fascinated by the complexity of her character would probably earn him another set of scratches.
His fingertips touched the still-raised welts on his cheek. He would probably bear the scars until his dying day.
He watched as she prepared to serve the food, and he felt his body tighten. It was becoming more and more difficult to remain in camp with her and not do or say something that would let her know he practically had to sit on his hands to keep from touching her.
Even when he had thought her a cold-blooded murderess, he had battled the strong pull of physical attraction. Now that his feelings had made a one hundred and eighty degree change, he found it nearly impossible to think of anything else.
But, how do you tell a woman you’ve changed your mind? How do you tell her you’ve gone from thinking her a murderess who deserves to be hanged to seeing her as a beautiful woman you want to make love to?
She’d tear him to ribbons if he said that. And he’d deserve it.
Then how could he apologize for the way he felt about her in the beginning? He had changed the way he treated her and she had greeted that with stony silence. He had started to believe in her innocence, but she wouldn’t talk about the murder. He’d tried to talk about her father, the ranch, her home in Alabama, and a dozen other things over the last two days, and she had responded with monosyllables, grunts, or silence.
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