One minute he rode alone, and the next Vasa raced alongside him, shouting they were all dead. Vasa drove his horse into Kee’s, trying to cut him off with every swipe of his knife.
Kee blocked the thrust of the knife with his arm slamming into Vasa’s wrist. He kicked free of his right stirrup, balancing his weight on the left as he swung his leg flat on the running mustang’s back. There were other evasive moves he could make, and the shifting weight would never alter the mustang’s stride, but they required strength and concentration and this wasn’t a show for an appreciative audience, but death waiting in that slashing blade.
He spied the bed of soft sand ahead, whispered to his horse, then suddenly jerked the rein. The mustang responded by veering off and turning in an ever tightening circle, leaving Vasa racing past them.
But the man had survived his own share of fights and reacted quickly to his sudden lack of target. He brought his horse around, using the strength of his knees and his hands as he twisted the animal’s mane and sent the horse running at Kee.
But Vasa didn’t know Outlaw or his instinctive need to fight and protect his rider. Kee slipped off and the mustang reared, screaming his challenge like a wild stallion born. Teeth bared, head down, Outlaw charged Vasa’s horse.
And Vasa’s animal reacted with like instincts, rearing and screaming his own challenge. Vasa clamped his legs around the bay’s barrel, his strength fighting the animal’s need, for he had sighted better prey.
Isabel.
And Kee saw her ride closer and closer to Vasa.
He ran for his horse, stumbling in the soft sand. Vasa was driving his animal into hers and Kee saw her fall. It took him precious seconds to mount and race to where Vasa held his knife to her throat.
“No! The gold, Vasa. You can have the gold!”
“I’ll take both the woman and the gold and see you dead. You planned that. You led them there to die. And so you will die. And she will watch. And when she lies beneath me, I will laugh at her tears.”
Kee rode closer. He felt every tense muscle of the mustang rippling beneath him. His own body was as taut. He met Isabel’s terrified gaze.
“I thought it was you, Kee.”
He slid from his saddle and drew his belt knife. “Me and you.” He saw Isabel strain against the arm that Vasa locked around her waist. Any pain Kee felt was lost as Vasa’s blade nicked her bared throat.
Soft, chilling laughter came from Vasa as he watched every breath that Kee took.
Outlaw distracted all of them for a moment. He reared, teeth bared, hooves hitting the earth with thunder as he went after Vasa’s horse. There was no sign that the saddle hindered him, for the mustang was wild again, protecting his band of chosen mares from a rival and he would fight to the death.
Kee could do nothing to stop the battle between the animals. His eyes were locked on Vasa’s knife and Isabel’s eyes dilating wide until the blue disappeared and black terror watched him. He shouldn’t be looking at her eyes at all. His breathing went shallow, his heartbeat drummed like a stampeding herd. A slightly oily feeling lined the pit of his stomach. His legs tremored with the need for him to be absolutely still yet his blood raced with the primitive urge to act.
He felt as wild as his mustang, his need to protect overpowering in its intensity.
“Let her go, Vasa. Fight me like a man. Hiding behind a woman is a coward’s way. Let her go.” Soft, so soft he made his demand as his hand clenched the handle of his knife and slowly brought its point up.
Kee knew he had to end the fight quickly.
Suddenly Vasa laughed and flung Isabel toward Kee.
Kee swung his arm out and away from his body to avoid stabbing her as she fell against him. But she knew the danger as well as he and fell and rolled out of his way.
But Vasa had moved, too. Like a snake he struck from Kee’s blind side and the point of his knife bit into Kee’s hip.
Kee backed away. White-hot pain exploded from his leg to his shoulder. But the pain gave him an edge. It reminded him what he was fighting for, and what would happen if he lost.
They circled each other, neither man watching the other’s blade, only the eyes. For the eyes would tell the other man’s move before the hand and knife thrust.
Kee willed his mind to empty. He willed his body to absorb the pain and lower its intensity. He curved his body to avoid another slash, waiting, and using those precious moments to force the pain to lose its hold on him. Blood soaked his pants, but the weaker the pain grew, the more his mind controlled it, and he felt stronger.
He’d gotten himself out of tight spots before and that ability, combined with the white-hot rage of what Vasa and his band had done, and what Vasa planned for Isabel, brought the surge of power he needed.
He crouched and spun to avoid the knife. Vasa’s laughter grated on Kee’s ears. The small rocks could easily roll under his boots and trip him. Kee cautiously moved back, drawing Vasa and his wickedly sharp knife with him.
“How can you fight for a woman who shed no tears at her cousin’s death? She has a heart of stone, that one.”
Kee wouldn’t answer the goad, or the ones that followed as Vasa’s taunts vividly drew Isabel’s fate at his hands.
Kee darted forward, then sucked in his belly as he slashed down twice in quick succession and left Vasa bleeding from his arm and leg.
“Careless, Vasa,” Kee goaded, sweat stinging his eyes from the relentless sun. “A man gets that close, it’s killing close.”
“Come again, gringo. Come again.”
Vasa lunged at Kee. The tanned skin jacket bore a long slash that was meant for Kee’s skin. Vasa closed in again, as if he sensed a weakening. Kee stomped hard on Vasa’s ankle, knocking him back. They tightened the circle, their harsh breathing almost blending. Vasa came in low, his knife flickering back and forth. Kee bent to avoid the thrust, his own knife held point up to stab. But Vasa leaned quickly to the side, kicking hard at Kee’s arm and Kee lost his knife.
A handful of sand blinded Vasa. Kee came to his feet, his almost numb arm bent to block the knife that Vasa thrust at him. He had Isabel to thank for the flung sand, and it bought him the second he needed to reach behind and throw his other knife.
Vasa loosed a howl of rage. He dropped his knife to clutch Kee’s, frantic to pull it free and stop his life’s blood from pouring out to the earth.
Kee staggered and picked up the knife he had dropped. Vasa was on his knees when the unholy scream froze him and Isabel in midstep to get to Kee.
She cried out. Staggering out of the blinding sun was a torn and bleeding Clarai.
“You will never have him!” she yelled.
Both Kee and Isabel saw the rifle come to bear on them. Kee dived for Isabel, taking her down beneath him. He saw Vasa jerk as the shot rang out, then another and one more before he sprawled facedown.
The wind came up, blowing hard, swirling sand around them. Kee covered Isabel with his body, his face buried against her hair. But he couldn’t shut out the sounds of the soul-piercing howling like some great beast dying or crying out in rage.
Minutes only, he was sure of that, for the silence was as sudden as the dust storm. He dragged himself to his knees, and lifted Isabel from the earth.
“Hold me,” he whispered to her. “Just hold me.”
It was Outlaw who nudged them a long while later. His velvet-soft nose worked over Kee then Isabel before he seemed satisfied and tossed his head.
Isabel took Kee’s face within her cradled hands. “I must try to find her, Kee. No matter what she has done, I cannot leave her here.”
“Together. We’ll go together.”
Arms around each other’s waists, needing the support as much as they needed the closeness, they walked to where they had last seen Clarai. Kee found the rifle half-buried in sand. But of the torn and broken woman there was no sign.
“We can search,” he offered.
Isabel was silent, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You know sh
e meant to kill you and not Vasa,” she said after a few minutes.
“I’m not so sure. When you were in their camp she saw how he looked at you. I wanted to kill him then.”
She turned to him, her lips seeking his, and she cherished the warmth of them on her own. Here was life, and the promise of love.
And here was the passion that had flared to life from the first, igniting the hunger each knew the other would feed and satisfy.
When Kee lifted his lips from hers, it was to murmur, “He was damn wrong. There’s not one cold or hard thing about you. Let’s go, lovely lady. I want us gone from this place.”
“What happened back there, Kee?” She tilted her head back to look into his eyes and saw only dark shadows.
“Someday I’ll tell you. Someday when I sort it all out. I’m not really sure of everything.”
He took her hand and started to walk.
“Wait, Kee. Tell me where it is that you want to go.”
“Home. I want to take you home. That is—” he drew her into his arms and held her tight while a few deeply taken and released breaths helped him say the words that would change his life.
“That is if you want yourself a cowhand with a smart mustang and four mares—”
“Yes! Oh, merciful God, yes!”
“Let me finish. You’re getting a little bit more. Four prime mares and a breeding stallion—”
“Kee, I love you. I love you.”
And this time the kiss was not a promise, but a seal of two lovers while a soft wind sighed through the canyons and ravines, and whispered into the deep crevices of the mountain that had endured men’s hunting for a treasure of gold.
They rode away in the late afternoon and as Kee topped a rise he saw that Isabel had lagged behind. She was looking back, and he thought it was with regret that she could not keep her promise to her grandmother and bury her grandfather on his land. He was going to call out to her, but stopped himself, remembering her strange reaction when he showed her the gold.
She had kissed him briefly, and said that she knew.
He found the patience to wait for her, letting her mourn her loss.
But Isabel was not mourning any loss. She whispered silent thanks to her grandfather who had led her to a treasure far more enduring than gold.
She had found love, and a man worthy to be called the hero of her heart.
Epilogue
The autumn wind blew through the willows on Queen’s Creek as Kee led Isabel from their night camp. They were north of the Rocking K now, and he had turned their packhorses over to one of the men who had gone ahead to tell the family they were there.
Kee had sent a telegram, asking them to wait at the house for him. He had places he wanted to show Isabel, just as she had shown him every inch of her ranch.
But the closer they rode to the big Spanish-style house surrounded by ancient cottonwood trees that helped keep the thick adobe walls and tiled roof cool, the more nervous Isabel became. He made her laugh telling tales of swimming in the pond before Santo would allow them to try the swiftly moving current of the river.
He drew up for a moment to study the sprawl of buildings. At the back of the main house, he pointed out the adobe wall that encircled his grandmother’s pride and joy, her garden. He told Isabel stories he had heard of Logan and Ty climbing the thick wooden gates to sneak into the house without their mother, or older brother Conner ever knowing. And she laughed then teased him that she knew he had done the same.
“It is beautiful, Kee. Larger than my home, but everywhere my eyes see the loving care given to land and the herds of cattle and horses.”
“You feel it, too?”
“The peacefulness, yes. It is a welcome feeling.” She saw that the windlass turned to pull water from the center courtyard well. There was a man in the low tower who watched them with his field glasses. Kee pointed out where Santo and Sofia lived in their own smaller house.
“I wish you could see the rose garden in the spring. And in the summer, when the sun is very hot, we would lie beneath the lemon trees and drink lemonade that Sofia cooled in the springhouse.”
“You missed all this and never said a word.”
“I had you, Isabel. It was enough and always will be. Where you are is my home. I need no other.”
“Kee, I—”
“You’re still very nervous about meeting them, I know. I swear to you, my lovely bride, that no one will bite. Well, I might, but only when we are alone.”
“Then be very careful, caballero, for I will bite you back.”
Kee threw back his head and laughed. “I can’t wait.”
It was Isabel’s soft laughter that floated down to the impatient crowd. They could see the two coming along and twice Logan had to restrain Jessie from running out to meet her adopted son.
Kee saw his family gathered, and crowded Isabel’s horse. He lifted her hand to his lips. “Remember, I love you. And they will love you, too.”
She rode beside him on one of her palomino mares whose dark liquid eyes and flashy, long silver-white mane and tail had captured Outlaw’s heart as surely as her rider had captured Kee’s.
Her trembling hand clenched his. And once more he whispered, “They will love you. Like me…passionately, and hopelessly.”
But one slim figure broke from the group to run toward them. And Kee knew who it was. Long brown hair flying with glints of sun trapped within its thickness. Her mother’s hair, but as she came close, those gunmetal-blue eyes were Ty’s own. Kee pulled slightly ahead, leaned down and swept the young girl into the saddle before him. They had been doing this since she was boot high. He held his horse to a walk and Isabel caught up with them.
“Princess,” he said when she was through smothering him with kisses, “you’ve grown half a foot taller and twice as pretty.”
“I’ve missed you so. No one else calls me pretty. And I’ve needed you. Mother has been horrid. She wants to send me East to school. Aunt Belinda even found a place. Miss Armbruster’s Academy for Young Ladies. I don’t want to go. There’s nothing they could teach me that’s of any use. They’d have me gussied up like today, in a gown that’s impossible to run in.”
“Whoa, princess. You’re dressed up to make a good impression on my wife. And that’s respect for me. So stop pouting and let me introduce you. Isabel, love, this is my oldest niece, Reina. Thoroughly spoiled and a brat to boot.”
“Kee!” Isabel warned him to stop with a sharp look. And to Reina, “You are as lovely as he said.” Kee received a warm smile and Isabel a cold shoulder. But she understood. The young girl was in love with Kee. He was not of her blood. How could her astute husband be so blind?
Isabel could see his family. A very large crowd whose impatience surged toward them as they turned into the courtyard through the open gates.
“Family party tonight, Kee,” Reina informed him. “Fiesta for everyone else. The invitations have been going out for weeks. You must promise me a dance.”
“Only if you mend your manners, little witch.”
Reina had no chance to pout or reply for Logan lifted her down, and then had Kee in a bear hug. For a few mad minutes Isabel was forgotten as Kee was passed to Jessie, then his aunt Dixie, little ones squirming between adult bodies, his uncles holding him close with an open display of male affection that at first surprised, then warmed Isabel toward his family.
Kee was calling out names and she tried hard to keep matching faces to them, but there were so many, for men came from the bunkhouse and corrals, and women from the house.
Then her gaze found a woman who stood alone near the massive doors of the house. She needed no introduction to Macaria Kincaid. She was just as Kee had described her, stately, gray in the thick crown of braids she wore, and her smile of welcome so warm that Isabel dismounted and went to her.
She wished she had worn something more fitting. Her split leather riding skirt and creamy linen shirt were of the same quality as Macaria’s lilac silk gown, but at he
r insistence they had ridden here, and a hot bath was something she missed. She removed her hat and her gloves, all the time knowing she was being studied and judged. It was no different from the way her own grandmother had greeted Kee. But she had not found him wanting, and loved him dearly.
“Kee came to us, Isabel, half-grown. To me he is more son than grandson, but most of all, he is a blessing to our family. I see in you a woman of strength, and one who loves with an open heart. I hope my family will find a place there. Now come and greet your husband’s grandmother properly and I will forgive you for marrying him without us being there.”
Over Isabel’s shoulder, Macaria smiled at Kee, and then her gaze went to each of her tall sons ranged behind him, their wives at their sides, and the little ones crowding close.
And she silently offered a prayer, and a whisper. “See, Justin, another good match. We have done well by them. And they have brought love and children to the land we loved, dearest.”
First Kee, then the others besieged them, and swept them into the house.
Later that night Isabel placed her hand on Kee’s heart, her head resting on his shoulder. She loved this quiet time after their passion burned bright and hunger was stilled. The soft creakings of the old house settled around her. They had talked far into the night, and ate, and drank, his family close by, taking her in as Kee claimed they took him in, into their home and their hearts. There was pride in the eyes that watched him as he told of making the men back down from trying to take her grandmother’s land and reselling it to the new rail line.
Only one spot marred the evening: Reina and the sadness in her eyes as she realized that her hero was hers no more. She was young, too young to think of love, but she would find someone as special as Kee when the time was right for her.
Kee was Isabel’s, lover and husband, keeper of her heart and dreams, hero of her soul.
And soon, very soon, she would tell him that he had another role to play. One that required great patience and stamina, and love, a great deal of love.
She snuggled close and sighed, contentment in every deeply taken breath.
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