Love a Dark Rider

by Shirlee Busbee

  Oh, don't you see what I'm trying to say? Anyone could have murdered her— noX just Yancy!"

  "Oh, but I do see!" Tom said stiffly, a frigid expression on his usually amiable features. Rising to his feet, he looked pityingly at her. "What I see is a self-centered, ungrateful, thoughtless young woman, so determined to marry the Cantrell fortune that she is willing to cast stones at anyone in order to convince herself that her fiance is innocent!"

  "It's not that at all!" Sara denied fiercely. "I only wanted to point out that there are others who might conceivably have killed Margaret!"

  "Well, you've certainly pointed it out, I must say!" Rounding on his heels, Tom stalked off, outrage in every line of his body.

  Dismayed, Sara watched him go, wondering how she could have let her wretched tongue alienate a man who had been a comforting friend to her these past years. Maybe he was right, she thought forlornly; maybe she was casting around for someone else to take the blame for Margaret's murder. Feeling particularly depressed and uncertain, Sara left her perch by the fountain to take a stroll around the grounds of the hacienda. Dusk was falling and there was little to see in the failing light, but the gloomy shadows of gathering night suited her bleak mood just fine! She wandered aimlessly for quite some time and then, realizing that the hour was growing late, began to make her way back toward the hacienda.

  The scent of tobacco suddenly drifted on the night air, and glancing around, Sara spied the glowing tip of a cheroot. She could barely make out the long outline of a man's figure as he lounged against the outside wall of the hacienda, but from the way her pulse jumped and her heart began to race, she knew who watched her in the darkness. Stilling her crazy senses, she walked over

  to him. "Spying on me?" she asked dryly. "Afraid I'll try to run away again?"

  Yancy took a drag of the cheroot, then flicked it carelessly onto the ground. He was lounging negligently, one knee bent, one booted foot resting against the adobe wall, and when Sara came nearer, he lazily pulled her into his arms. Searching her lovely features in the faint light of the rising moon, he asked, "Would you? Run away?"

  His mouth was inches from hers, his breath warm and smoky, and Sara was suddenly almost giddy with desire. Making no attempt to escape from him, she met his seeking gaze and smiled ruefully. "No, I won't run away. Once was quite enough, thank you very much!"

  His lips quirked slightly, but he said dryly, ''Querida, that wasn't exactly the answer I wanted... and you know it!" He brushed his lips tantalizingly across hers. "Since you won't take the hint, I'll have to put it more bluntly. Are you going to marry me tomorrow?"

  Sara slowly nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

  "No," he breathed thickly; "no, you don't!" He kissed her then, a kiss of such sweetness, of such suppressed passion, that the world spun dreamily out of control for Sara and she trembled in his embrace. When he lifted his head a lifetime later, she could only stare dazedly up at his dark face, her lips raptly parted, her eyes softly glowing. He smiled. "Run along to bed, sweetheart. You won't get much sleep tomorrow night—that I can promise you!"

  Sara wandered slowly back inside the hacienda. In her room, she noted the lamp by her bedside which one of the servants must have left for her, and slowly she began to undress, her starry-eyed mood still upon her. Wearing her nightgown of soft, worn muslin, she undid her hair and idly began to brush the long honey-gold locks.

  Tomorrow was her wedding day. This time tomorrow night she would be Yancy*s wife....

  A dreamy smile on her lips, she finally put down the brush and walked over to her bed. She was on the point of blowing out the lamp and climbing into bed when something made her take a second glance at the smooth expanse of the covers. A little frown wrinkled her forehead. That was the problem—^the covers weren't smooth. Right in the middle, where she would lie, there was a slight hump, its rounded shape seeming to undulate now and then with a mesmerizing movement.

  Sara's blissful mood vanished and her mouth was suddenly dry. With a shaking hand, she grasped one end of the covers and flung them aside.

  She leaped back instinctively at the sight of what lay curled up on her bed: ring upon ring of lethal coils, its flat, triangular head pointed in her direction. A rattle-snakel

  In horror, Sara gasped and staggered back even farther out of striking range of the snake, and only then did she hear the warning buzz of its madly vibrating tail. The snake, a large one, was tightly coiled and ready to strike, and for one mind-numbing moment Sara could only stare at it, hardly daring to breathe as reality hit her. Someone had deliberately put a rattlesnake in her bed

  16

  Frozen in atavistic horror, Sara just stood there staring at the snake, her thoughts jostling wildly through her brain. Was she out of range of the venom-filled fangs? In trepidation, she eyed the four feet or less that separated them. Yancy had once told her that a rattlesnake could strike up to two-thirds of its body length, but how long did they grow? she wondered almost hysterically. Five feet? Six feet? Longer? More importantly, how long was this rattler?

  Beyond its constantly flicking forked tongue, the snake was not moving. It was tightly coiled, its head tucked down close to its body, its black eyes never leaving Sara.

  Carefully, Sara took a step backward. When the snake remained undisturbed, she took another one. Feeling a little safer, she glanced around nervously for some sort of weapon. There was none. She considered backing up to the door and going after help, but the notion that the snake could slither off her bed and hide itself somewhere in her room while she was gone was utterly unnerving. No. She wasn't taking her eyes off the damn snake until it was dead!

  Some of her terror was fading, but she was aware that she was still shaking slightly and that her heart was beating very fast. She was more scared than she cared to

  admit. Again she glanced around her room for a weapon. Her eyes fell upon the heavy dark crucifix on the wall. She glanced back at the snake. Then at the crucifix.

  Could she use the crucifix like an ax? Was it long enough? She eyed the snake again. She swallowed. Cautiously, she edged near the wall and reached up and grasped the crucifix. It was a long and narrow wooden crucifix, the cross arms nearly two feet wide, the base perhaps three, the figure of Christ beautifully and delicately carved.

  Her hand fastened around the end of the crucifix and she lifted it gently from the wall, reassured by the balance and weight of it in her grip. The crucifix firmly grasped in one hand, her eyes on the snake, she took a careful step nearer to the bed. The snake moved slightly, its head rising upward just a fraction, almost as if it sensed danger. Sara glanced at the crucifix held in her hand like a club and a bubble of hysterical laughter rose in her chest. Most people merely prayed to Christ for some mysterious, miraculous intervention in their lives, but tonight Christ was to play a decidedly active, practical part in her life!

  She took another deep breath, tightened her grip on the crucifix and, moving swiftly, stepped within range and struck at the snake at the same time. The snake lunged at the crucifix, and not even aware that she did it, Sara gave a soft little scream of pure fright. She retreated slightly; then, grimacing and gritting her teeth, she closed the distance between them and struck again at the snake. This time her blow connected.

  It seemed like hours, but it could have been only moments later that the snake was dead. Trembling with reaction, Sara dropped the bloodied crucifix and staggered backward from the bed. A hand to her mouth, her eyes wide and dilated with remembered terror, she stumbled farther away from the carnage on her bed.

  The door suddenly opened behind her and, a merry smile on her face, Maria came in carrying a small tray with a pot of creamy, sweet hot chocolate and a delicate china cup and saucer. "Ah, huenol You have not gone to bed yet. I thought you might enjoy a cup of chocolate before you retired."

  Maria caught sight of the expression on Sara's face and her smile faded. Then she saw the snake on the bed—or ra
ther, what remained of the snake. The tray crashed to the floor and she let out a shriek that was no doubt heard in Mexico. ''Ay Ay I Cdspital What has happened here? Are you hurt? The snake did not bite you, did it?"

  Maria had barely stopped speaking before Yancy appeared in the doorway, his pistol in one hand, the expression on his face dangerously fierce. He took in the scene in one comprehensive glance and then he was across the room, his arms closing tightly around Sara's trembling body. His mouth pressing gently against her temple, he asked urgently, "Did it strike you?"

  Against his warm chest, Sara shook her head vehemently, her body shuddering afresh with reaction, the feel of Yancy's strong arms around her the most blessed sensation in the world. Now that it was over, now that she was safe, she suddenly burst into tears, great, gulping sobs racking her.

  Wordlessly, Yancy scooped her up in his arms and strode from the room. As he passed Maria, he said curtly, "Get rid of it and send Esteban to me immediately." He looked down at the shattered pot and the spilled chocolate. "You might also prepare another tray for her. Bring it to my rooms, along with the rest of her clothes—she's never sleeping in here again!"

  With Sara protectively cradled in his arms, Yancy swiftly reached his rooms. Kicking open the door, he crossed the lamplit room and with exquisite tenderness

  deposited Sara in the middle of his big bed. When he went to rise, Sara's arms tightened around his neck and she whispered, "Don't leave me—not yet."

  Yancy smiled slightly, and laying aside his pistol, which was still in his hand, he sank down slowly beside her, aligning his big body next to hers. He kissed her ear and murmured, "You do know that Esteban and Maria are going to be here in a few minutes? I wouldn't want to start something I couldn't finish...."

  Some of her primitive fear ebbing away, she glared up at him. ''That wasn't why I wanted you to stay!'*

  He smiled even more, a mocking gleam in his amber-gold eyes. "I didn't think so ... but you're not thinking about what happened anymore, are you?"

  Sara looked at him in surprise. She wasn't. And she wasn't going to either, she thought with a shudder. Yancy kissed her then, fully on her lips, his tongue sliding hungrily into her mouth. With a wantonness that shocked her, she returned his kiss and he growled low in his throat, his arms crushing her to him, his tongue delving even deeper.

  With an effort, he finally lifted his lips from her throbbing mouth and, staring down into her face, said thickly, "Tomorrow night, respond as sweetly and I shall know that there is indeed a heaven on earth!"

  He got up from the bed, picked up the gun and carefully slipped it into the holster that was draped over the back of a chair. He had just turned to look back at Sara when there was a sharp rap on the door. At his command, the door opened to reveal Esteban Chavez, an anxious expression on his darkly handsome features, his sombrero held in his hand.

  "Senor! Maria has told me what happened. How could this terrible thing have occurred?"

  Yancy shrugged, and with a warning in his gaze, he cut his eyes in Sara's direction, and murmured, "We'll

  talk about it outside, just as soon as Maria arrives—I don't want to leave her alone."

  Maria arrived a few minutes later, a freshly prepared tray in her hands and some pieces of clothing draped over her arm—in anticipation of the wedding, everything except for a few items had already been moved into Sara's new rooms. Clucking like a hen with one chick, Maria barely acknowledged the men, but hurried over to the bed.

  Seeing that Sara was in safe hands, Yancy motioned to Esteban and the two men walked to the door. Just before he left the room, Yancy said to Maria, "Don't leave her! We'll be back in a few minutes." Closing the door firmly behind him, he looked carefully around the deserted courtyard and empty walkways. Satisfied that no one was about, he offered Esteban a smoke and both men lit the long black cheroots. They smoked in silence for several minutes; then Esteban said quietly, "It is a strange thing, senor, that snake in your lady's room."

  His eyes hooded, Yancy nodded. "Damn strange! For Dios There hasn't been a rattlesnake spotted inside the compound since I was a boy. Before then, once in a while one would be found warming itself on the courtyard stones, but never in the hacienda itself, much less coiled in somebody's bed!"

  Esteban regarded Yancy's shuttered features in the darkness. "Do you think," he asked carefully, "that someone meant to harm your novial That it was done deliberately?"

  Yancy looked full at him, and at the savage fury glittering in the depths of those golden eyes, Esteban glanced quickly away.

  "Yes, I think it was done deliberately," Yancy growled, a note in his voice making Esteban very glad that he was not the person who had done this evil thing. "And I

  would hazard a guess that we don't have far to look for the culprit!"

  Esteban glanced at him. "You think it is one of the gringos?"

  Yancy tossed aside his half-smoked cheroot with a violent motion. "Who else?" he snapped. "Sara has been here for weeks and nothing like this has happened. They have not been here more than three days and already my novia has found a rattlesnake in her bed! Wouldn't that make you just a little suspicious?"

  Esteban nodded. "Sf! But which one? And how do you mean to discover the evil one? They are not likely to tell you the truth if you were to ask them."

  "I know. But I want you to question the servants. Find out if anyone saw one of the gringos near Sara's room this evening. Find out, if you can, who caught the snake— Hyrum is the most likely prospect for that, since he has had complete access to the rancho." Yancy frowned. "The Shelldrakes have appeared to stay strictly inside the hacienda, and I can't imagine Senora Shelldrake wrestling with a rattlesnake herself, although I can see her plotting such a thing! Senor Shelldrake has a crippled arm, which would make capturing a live rattlesnake rather chancy, but I'm not eliminating any of them for the time being." He looked grimly at his head vaquero. "One last thing—^pick a couple of our most trustworthy men and assign them to watch my novia. Tell them to do it without making themselves noticed. Quietly, mi amigo*'

  Esteban nodded and the men talked in low voices for a few minutes longer. Then, tossing aside his cheroot, Esteban left Yancy, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

  Again Yancy's eyes did a slow, thorough appraisal of the area, but seeing nothing to arouse his suspicions, he turned and entered his rooms. Maria was sitting in a chair beside the bed, where Sara was comfortably ensconced.

  a pile of pillows at her back as she sipped the hot, sweet chocolate.

  There was still remembered terror lurking in the depths of her lovely eyes, but wearing a clean, fresh nightgown, her face looking as if it had been thoroughly scrubbed and her hair caught up in a wide band of green silk ribbon, she bore few traces of her recent ordeal. She looked, in fact, Yancy thought with a sudden quickening of his breath, just as he had so often imagined. A faint, sensuous smile curved his bottom lip. Well, perhaps not exactly as he had pictured her; in his reveries she was usually naked, and her maid was not sitting at her side, chatting blithely away about all the delicacies that had been baked and cooked for the wedding feast tomorrow!

  It was obvious that Maria was doing her best to keep Sara distracted from what had happened, and the tiny smile that lurked at the comers of Sara's mouth and her relaxed air revealed that Maria was doing a very good job of it, too! Yancy noted grimly, however, that Sara lay atop the covers, a gaily woven blanket merely thrown across her lower limbs. He suspected that it would be a long time before she could ever crawl into bed without remembering the rattlesnake, and his eyes hardened. Someone was going to suffer a rather nasty fate because of tonight's doings!

  None of his thoughts showed on his face, though, as he strolled up to the two women. At his approach, Maria sprang to her feet and murmured, "Unless there is something more you wish of me, I shall be gone— mi madre and I plan to bake more fruta de horno before we retire for the night." Despite all the questions he glimpsed in her eyes, Yancy was gratef
ul that Maria had deliberately made no mention of the snake, nor of what he and Esteban had talked about outside.

  There was an awkward little silence after Maria had departed, but, carefully putting down her cup and drawing her knees up protectively to her chest, Sara tried for a light note. "Does that happen often at del Sol? Rattlesnakes crawling into beds?"

  Yancy scowled. He would have preferred not to talk about what had happened—^at least not right now. Sara looked fairly serene and he wanted her to stay that way! Mostly, he just wanted her safe and happy and to forget about the damned snake! And as for the culprits ... An ugly smile touched his chiseled lips. Someone was going to find out just how cruel and heartless a man with the blood of the conquistadors in his veins could be!

  But, aware that for her own safety Sara needed some plain speaking about what had happened, Yancy took the chair that Maria had vacated and stretched his long legs out in ft-ont of him. "No, it doesn't!" he said baldly. "And it shouldn't have happened at all!"

  Sara shuddered slightly. In a small voice, she said, "Someone tried to kill me, didn't they? If I hadn't seen it before I got into bed..." She swallowed. "It would have struck me, perhaps even several times, before I realized what was happening. I could have diedV

  Yancy cursed violently under his breath and in one swift movement left his seat and went to lie on the bed beside Sara. As natural as breathing, she came mto his arms. After settling her comfortably beside his long length, he said bluntly, "I don't think there is any question about that! The question is who and why."