The triplets marched quietly out of the great room. “You’re forcing them to obey you,” Chimera flared. “It would be better to find a way to make them want to.”
“That will come in time.”
“But—”
“Chimera, you asked for my help with them, but you must let me do it my own way. Nothing terrible is going to happen to any of your boys, I promise you.”
His promise wasn’t made lightly. As a young boy at the orphanage, he’d been given many chores and had been expected to do them. When he’d grown older and stronger, his workload had increased, and the chores had become more challenging. As a result he’d never been afraid of hard work or tackling whatever task presented itself, no matter how difficult. It was that attribute he hoped to instill in the boys. It would serve them well.
Chimera scowled at him. “I know the boys better than you do, and I—”
He refused to even listen to her worries concerning the children. “Chimera, I’m in no mood to argue with you about this tonight. It wasn’t easy tracking down those two freckled criminals, and the only thing I want to do right now is go to bed. I suggest you do the same.”
“I don’t like you.”
He stared at her, confused as to whether he’d heard her correctly. “What did you say?”
She folded her arms across her breasts. “I’ve learned a few things about you since you’ve been here, Mr. Montoya. You have a quick temper, you’re an innocent, and you’re quite compassionate when it suits you. Now I’ve learned you’re also deaf. I said I don’t like you!”
Her vehement declaration seared through his mind. He groped for his chair and sat back down. “Why don’t you like me?”
“Because I just don’t.” Her arms tightened further across her chest.
Sterling’s amazement grew. “But what are your reasons?”
“You’re mean to my boys.”
He tried to feel relieved, but his confusion remained. “Then you dislike what I’ve done, not who I am.” He wondered if his statement made any more sense to her than it did to him.
“It’s the same thing,” she charged, and yanked off her apron. “What you do reflects what you are, and you’re mean.”
“I’m not mean, Chimera.”
The soft, husky tone in his voice affected her instantly, tempering her irritation. She tried to bring her anger back, but could only concentrate on the dizzying emotion his velvety voice brought to her. Staring at his thick, midnight hair, she absently caressed her apron strings. The magic was upon them again, she realized.
But she didn’t want to be nice to him tonight. She looked away from him and concentrated on the muddy toe of her boot instead of the heady emotions he evoked. “You—yes, you are mean. Mean as mean can be, and I’m taking disciplining the children off your list of duties. You will leave them to me.”
“No, I won’t.” He stood and crossed to the corner, where his sleeping pallet lay. “If I have to stay here, I’m damn well not going to stay here with brats. I’m going to turn them into well-behaved children, and you’d better get used to my methods.” He turned and saw she was still staring at her boot. “And I would appreciate it if you look at me when I talk to you.”
She looked up, but not at him. If it irritated him when she didn’t give him her full attention, she’d give him none of it. Calmly, she sashayed toward the hall, dragging her apron behind her. “I like you even less now than I did two minutes ago.” With that, she disappeared.
“You may not like me, Miss Chimera Cantankerous, but by God, you’ll thank me one of these days!”
Her response was the slamming of her bedroom door. Sterling kicked at his pallet and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I don’t give a damn whether you like me or not,” he muttered, and snatched off his gun belt. “Not even half a damn.” He kicked his boots off and settled himself upon his mat.
He’d built for her, tried to protect her, helped her with the kids, and she didn’t like him. He’d agreed to do all the work she wanted him to do, and she didn’t like him.
She’d had a taste of his magic, enjoyed it, but she didn’t like him. She’d found pleasure in his arms and from his kisses, but she didn’t like him. He could arouse her with a suggestive look or softly spoken word, but she didn’t like him.
No woman, old or young, had ever said that to him.
Women loved him. They always had. They loved him at first sight and loved him so much he often felt as though he were being smothered in their adoration.
“But Chimera...”he whispered. “Not only doesn’t she love me, she doesn’t like me.” For some reason totally beyond his comprehension, one he didn’t even try to understand, those four little words seemed to fill a tiny corner of the vast emptiness inside him.
Chapter Seven
After feeding Venus and laying her down for a nap, Chimera peeked from the cabin window and saw Sterling sitting on the porch step. Two weeks had passed since their argument concerning the children. True to his word, he was continuing with his own methods of discipline. But the boys never showed signs of any serious injuries, and that made the trips to the woodshed a little easier for her to bear. Quarreling with Sterling got her nowhere, anyway.
She smiled at that. It was hard getting her way with Sterling; he’d proved to be just as stubborn as she. But she wasn’t quite certain she didn’t like his mule-headedness sometimes. It often delighted her to butt heads with him over trivial matters. He had a quick wit, and she found she enjoyed the challenge of matching or outdoing it. She didn’t always win, but then, neither did he.
He’d brought flowers to her the other day, she remembered, and smiled. She put them in her bedroom, and they were the last things she saw before going to sleep and dreaming about them. The boys had brought her flowers many times, and she always appreciated their thoughtfulness. But this was the first time a man had given her any. The sweet-smelling bouquet took on an entirely different meaning coming from Sterling’s big, strong hand rather than small, dirty ones.
She watched him stretch, her eyes drawn to the muscles outlined beneath his snug shirt. A special warmth curled through her. She was accustomed to feeling it now, but still didn’t understand how one close look at him could cause such a reaction in her. For that matter, she didn’t quite know what to think about a man who angered, amused, defied, and aroused her—sometimes all at once. Some days came when she wished she could make him disappear, and others came when she enjoyed his company very much. Perhaps she’d make up her mind about him when she knew him better.
And she did want to know him better. Her curiosity grew every day.
That thought in mind, she joined him on the porch, its loose board creaking loudly when she stepped on it. “Just see how well they fit!” she exclaimed, looking at the trousers she’d finished sewing for him that morning.
Sterling glanced down at the red-and-white-checkered pants. He looked like a walking tablecloth. And with his new purple shirt...he could be seen twenty miles off. “I don’t suppose you know how to make buckskin, do you?” He sighed when she shook her head and returned his attention to the triplets, who were hauling rotten barn pieces off into the woods as he’d instructed them. “They’ve been very obedient lately,” he said smugly.
She watched them and smiled. “I assure you that beneath their submissive exteriors, there lurks rebellion. Once you relax your guard they’ll pounce.”
“I know that, but I don’t want them to know I know,” he answered, and frowned when one of the triplets tripped over a tuft of grass and bellowed profanities. “Which one just fell?”
“See that black string hanging out of his pocket?”
Sterling squinted and saw it.
“It’s not a string,” she hinted.
He smiled. The string was a snake. “Snug, watch your mouth! One more swear word, and I’ll make you haul off the entire barn all by yourself!”
Snug mumbled something, got up from the ground, and dragged the board to the w
oods. “Do you still think they’ll want to obey you one day?” Chimera asked. “There’s an awful lot of hostility in them.”
“And I’ve no doubt I’ll feel the brunt of it soon. But yes, they’ll stop fighting me. I think when they begin to feel proud of the work they’ve done with their own hands, they’ll understand what I’m trying to do. Hell, before I leave, they might even decide they like me.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Sterling hadn’t mentioned a word about leaving since he’d agreed to stay. “Tucson.” The word left a bitter flavor in her mouth. “You still intend to go there.” She sank to the porch step.
It was obvious to her now that she hadn’t conjured Sterling up from nothingness. He had a past, and that past was somehow connected to his future. Her magic had certainly brought him here, but he’d existed before his arrival. The knowledge that he didn’t belong to her, body and soul, made her sad.
“Who’s that woman there?” she asked again, feeling a sharp stab of dislike for her.
Sterling tensed at her question. He rose from the step, the porch creaking. “There’s a loose board here. I’ll fix it soon.”
“Sterling, who’s that woman in—”
“Why does it matter to you? I told you I’d do as much work as I can, and I’ll try to finish all you want me to do before I leave. I don’t know what will happen with Sprague, but I’ll try and handle that too. I won’t stay here forever, though, Chimera. I never promised I would.” He had no intention of discussing his mother with her. He’d never discussed her with anyone besides Father Tom and saw no reason to start now. He couldn’t see how it was any of Chimera’s business anyway.
That decided, he looked at the triplets. But he didn’t really see them, he saw beyond them. Beyond the mountains, where Tucson lay.
Chimera noted how deftly he’d avoided answering her question. It was apparent that the nameless woman in Tucson was very important to him. Otherwise, why would he mind talking about her? “Sterling?”
At the sound of her voice, he tried to remember if she’d asked him something he was supposed to answer. He sat back down beside her, but kept his gaze on the blue-green horizon. “I’m sorry, Chimera. What did you say?”
She reached for his hand and held it gently. “We were talking about what matters. You matter. You matter to me, Sterling, and that’s why the woman in Tucson also matters. Please tell me who she is.”
His gaze left the mountain peaks. It swept across the yard. It alighted upon Chimera’s scuffed boots, touched her pink skirt and her green sash. Up it went, smoothing over her yellow blouse and up her delicate neck. It caressed her rosy lips, slid over her sun-kissed nose.
And stopped when it reached her velvet brown eyes.
They mesmerized him. There seemed to be no bottom to them. No matter how intently he stared into them, he found sparkle after sparkle, color after color, swirl after swirl. Mystery after mystery. They were special eyes, and it almost seemed as if they could see straight through him. As if she could see everything inside him—as if she were very close to seeing the emptiness. He turned away from her.
“Sterling, did you hear me? You matter to me.”
“And why do I matter to you?” he asked very quietly.
She heard a plea in his voice and wondered what he was hoping to hear her say. “That’s an odd question. I’ve never been asked it before. I guess...you’re matter-able.”
He turned to look at her again. “Matter-able?”
“I just invented that word,” she confessed with a grin. “It’s a good word, now that I think of it. I hope I remember to use it again. Sometimes when I invent good words I forget to use them again, and they never become a part of my vocabulary. I try to write them down as I think of them, but I’m usually without writing utensils when I get inspired. Then there are times when I have everything I need to write, and I sit at the table trying to think up good words. That’s when I can’t think of any. Isn’t that always the way? Matter-able. Yes, that’s definitely a good word. Don’t let me forget it, Sterling.”
Matter-able, he repeated silently, ignoring the rest of her chatter. He couldn’t understand exactly what the whimsical word meant, but it made him feel good. He picked up his saddlebag and absently turned it over in his hands. The flap opened, and a small statue fell out. He bent to pick it up, but Chimera reached it first.
The Blessed Mother and the Child Jesus looked up at her from her hand. “Are you religious?”
He frowned. The statue was from the orphanage. If he told her so, the conversation would lead back to his mother. His recent feeling of contentment reverted back to wariness.
“Sterling, what’s wrong with you? You refuse to discuss the Tucson woman, and now this statue is making you scowl. Are the two related?”
Damn! How quickly she’d hit on the truth! He jerked to his feet, thrust his hands into his pockets, and stared into the thick forest. “I don’t know enough about the Tucson woman to tell you about her,” he snapped.
Her curiosity rose higher. “Then why is she so important to you?”
Dios mio, he fumed, and raked his fingers through his hair. Was there no end to her inquisitiveness?
“Sterling?”
“Chimera—I—she—the statue—I stole it.”
She gasped. “Oh, Sterling, shame on you! You’re a thief?”
“No! Well, yes. When I was a little boy.”
“You were a thief when you were young?”
“No! Chimera—Ah, to hell with this! I stole the statue from the Mother Superior some twenty years ago, and I’ve never stolen anything since! Are you satisfied now?” Dammit, trying to keep information from her was like trying to darn a river with a toothpick. Her questions flowed so rapidly, he could barely surface for air.
Stepping out into the yard, he kicked at the dirt. He could feel her eyes on his back. Her fathomless eyes. If he turned to face her, he knew he’d see the blinding curiosity in them. They’d be fairly overflowing with that...that mysterious light he’d seen earlier. They’d hold his own eyes hostage and she’d try to see straight through to his soul.
He would not allow her to do it, he vowed. His secrets were his own, and if she ever learned any more of them, it would be because he chose to enlighten her. He was a master concealer, wasn’t he? he reminded himself. She’d learn nothing he didn’t want her to know. To hell with all her rapid-fire questions. He simply wouldn’t answer them.
“The Mother Superior?” Chimera asked. “Who’s she?”
He didn’t answer.
“There’s nothing more burdensome than a secret, Sterling. That’s a French proverb.”
“I’ve never been to France, have no desire to go, and I don’t give a damn what the French think about secrets.”
Chimera laughed out loud. “Well, right offhand I can’t think of any Mexican or Irish proverbs about secrets. Do Mexicans even have proverbs? I’m sure they probably do, it’s just that I’ve never heard of any. I guess all countries have their proverbs. Just like they have their languages, foods, clothing, and customs. You know, Sterling, you really ought to teach the boys some of the Mexican customs. And speaking of Mexican things, I tried to make you some tortillas the other day. I figure you were raised on them and must miss them. It was going to be a surprise, but...oh, Sterling. I must not have put enough water in the corn mixture because they were so hard after I cooked them, that when I threw them out the window, one of them nearly cut a small tree down. But I’ll try again, and perhaps you could try to think of some Mexican proverbs for us. Would you do that, Sterling?”
She rambled merrily on. He tried not to smile, but couldn’t help himself, and as usual his quick amusement tempered his irritation. He finally turned to face her. “Why are you so nosy?”
“Nosy? I’ve never thought that was one of my characteristics. I prefer to call it curious.”
He relented. “Then why are you so curious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I like you. Well, sometimes I don�
��t like you,” she amended, “but usually I do. Is it so terrible for me to want to know more about you?”
Everything around him faded until he could see nothing but her. She filled his sight and his thoughts. He remembered the odd, but comfortable emotion he’d felt that day when she’d told him she didn’t like him. Now the same thing was happening to him again, only this time it was because she liked him.
He couldn’t understand it, couldn’t comprehend exactly what it was about her that got to him the way it did. Her explanations of things were so simple, and yet they affected him so profoundly. She liked him, and she didn’t like him. Wasn’t he supposed to feel confused over that contradiction?
Instead, and for the second time today, he felt sweetly touched.
The feeling so overcame him, he couldn’t remember why he hadn’t wanted to talk to her, and words flowed from his lips as if by magic. “I felt bad about stealing the statue, but Mother Maria Guadalupe was so fierce, I was afraid to confess and give it back. Her penalty for theft was scrubbing the convent floor with one hand and praying the rosary with the other. And you had to pray aloud. She stood behind you, watching you scrub and correcting your prayers.”
“Mother Maria Guadalupe?” Chimera repeated slowly. “Rosary?”
He nodded and grinned at her. “I knew the Hail Mary by heart, but could never remember all the words to the Our Father. That was a source of great distress to Mother Maria. I still can’t remember all the words to the Our Father. Strange, isn’t it? I mean you’d think since I was raised in a Catholic orphanage I’d know every prayer ever composed.”
Chimera giggled. “Well, I don’t know about that, Sterling. I’ve been studying my witchcraft books for years, and I can never remember a single incantation correctly.”
His grin broadened, and words kept coming. “I wasn’t really a bad boy. It’s just that the statue glows in the dark. If you let it stay near light for a while and then take it to a darkened room, it shines. I shared a bed with my friend Antonio and we used to look at the statue through our window at night. The Reverend Mother’s office was just across the courtyard, and the statue was in her window. When she blew out all the candles, the statue was a spooky sight, but since it’s of Mary and Jesus, and not some monstrous demon, we weren’t really afraid.
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