Moonlight and Magic

by Rebecca Paisley

  She nodded. Sobs shook her frame. “Malcolm believes that I’m the widow of a young American soldier who was killed by Indians, and that ye died at birth! Do ye think me daft? How could I tell him about Salvador when I knew o’ his hatred fer Mexicans? What would he have thought o’ me had he known I’d shared me bed with vermin?

  “Vermin! By all the saints, ye look just like him! Just like Salvador!” she wailed. “May his soul rot in hell! What reason do ye have fer comin’ here? Was it to give me pain? To remind me o’ the darkest year o’ me life? Can ye not understand I want nothin’ to do with ye?”

  Sterling felt the earth heave beneath his feet. He felt cracked, shattered, but he cloaked his profound hurt with a shield of granite-hard anger. He crossed to Brianna and grabbed her shoulders. “I want to know everything there is to know about you and my father! I want the history of my family! Tell me!”

  “Family? Ye’ve no family! I’ll tell ye naught! Son o’ Salvador! Son o’ the divil himself!”

  Sterling felt his face grow hot with rage. “I’ve waited almost my entire life for information about my real family, and you’re damn well going to give it to me! Tell me about my father!”

  “Ye’ve waited yer entire life to know about Salvador?” She laughed harshly and wiped tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. “Waited fer so many years to hear that yer father was a murderer? That—”

  “What?” Sterling thundered.

  “Aye! Take yer hands from me, or I’ll not tell ye another word, to be sure I won’t!”

  He tightened his grip, his fingers digging into her slight shoulders. “Sterling,” he heard Chimera say softly. “Let go of her. You’re going to hurt her.” She placed her hand upon his back.

  He forced his hands down to his sides and curled them into tight fists.’

  “’Twas yer dream, Sterlin’?” Brianna asked spitefully. “Well, listen! Listen and learn how tainted ’tis the blood flowin’ through yer veins! I’ve no doubt in me mind ye’ll rue the day ye vowed to chase this dream o’ yers!” Her arms folded across her chest, she walked away a few steps, then spun to face him. “I met Salvador Montoya when I was but a lass o’ sixteen years. I was in Mexico with me mother. Never knew me father. He died shortly after he and me mother arrived from Ireland. He left her his store in New Orleans. ’Twas a mercantile, but it came to ruin in me mother’s hands, for she wasn’t a businesswoman. But she learned to be one, aye, she did at that. But ’twasn’t mercantilin’ she took up.

  “She had no head fer numbers, but she had a body made fer love.” She smiled when she saw Sterling’s eyes widen. “Surprised, are ye? Aye, yer grandmother was a whore, and ’twasn’t long after me father’s death that she took up that profession. Her first lover was a Mexican, and she discovered she had a taste fer dark men. And where could she get her fill o’ them, I’m askin’? Why, in Mexico. She packed us up, and there we went.”

  “Sterling, don’t let her tell you any more. Let’s go,” Chimera pleaded.

  “I had but ten years then and watched her take lover after lover for six more years before I met Salvador,” Brianna continued with a sneer at Chimera. “Salvador, the divil take him, was one o’ her customers. But ’twasn’t me mother he had eyes fer. He wanted me. I left with him, and we roamed the land together. I soon carried ye in me belly.”

  Sterling felt Chimera’s arm go around him. Her face was pressed upon his back, He could feel her tears wetting his shirt. They were so hot, they almost burned his skin. He stepped away from her again.

  “When Salvador learned I was pregnant, he left me, the bastard. Broke me heart, he did,” Brianna whined. “I had to see him day after day with another woman, and every day I prayed the rotten cur would get his due. Me wish—well, ’twas soon satisfied. A few weeks before ye were born, Salvador, in a fit o’ rage, killed the trash he’d left me fer. On the mornin’ o’ yer birth, they hung yer precious father! I rose from me birthin’ bed to watch his body swing from the gallows. I even held ye up to the window and showed ye the sight!”

  By watching the vein in his neck, Chimera could see how violently Sterling’s heart was pounding. “Sterling,” she whispered.

  “And then...then you left me at San Francisco de Sales,” Sterling said to Brianna. His voice sounded like breaking glass.

  “I had to leave Mexico. ’Twas never anythin’ but sorrow fer me from the beginnin’. Someone told me about San Francisco de Sales. I traveled with you fer three days and kissed the ground when I finally came to it. I couldn’t bear the sight o’ ye. Yer brown skin—ferever it would o’ reminded me o’ the bastard who sired ye! Aye, ’twas a lucky thing I found the orphanage.

  “And now ye know, Mister Dreamer. Yer father was a murderer who hanged the very day o’ yer birth. That’s the kind o’ blood ye’ve got in ye—the blood of a killer. A man with not a shred o’ conscience, ’twas Salvador. And ye—yer the spawn of a—a dung-eatin’ fly! Aye, ’tis a maggot ye are!”

  “How dare you!” Chimera flew toward Brianna. “How dare you call him such vile—”

  “This yer whore, Sterlin’?” Brianna asked when Chimera stopped before her. “’Tis plain ye’ve inherited yer taste in women from yer father. The hussy he left me fer...she looked like yer slut here. Tell me, will ye be killin’ her as yer father murdered—”

  “Enough!” he bellowed. “Throw whatever foul words you want at me, but say one more word about Chimera, and I’ll—”

  “Ye’ll what?” Brianna defied him. “Hit me? ’Twouldn’t surprise me. Salvador beat me the night he discovered I carried you. Have ye a tendency toward violence, Sterlin’? How many men have ye killed? And with yer looks to aid ye, how many women have ye sullied? Aye, ’twould seem yer blood is yer father’s, to be sure it is.”

  She smiled. “Aye, I’m yer mother. But I want nothin’ to do with ye! The sight o’ ye sickened me thirty years ago, and ’tis sick I feel now!”

  Sterling stared at her. He watched her shrink from his glare and thought of everything she’d told him. His grandmother was a whore. His father had been hanged for murder. And Brianna...he could no longer see the beauty he’d seen in her when he first rode into the ranch. He saw an ugly woman, horribly marred by hatred. Bitterness poured from her silver eyes; malice flowed through her veins, and into a heart of stone.

  He closed his eyes. As a child, how many nights had he lain in his bed in the orphanage dreaming of her? How many fantasies had he invented concerning her? Dios mio, how many times had he prayed she would be glad to see him if he ever found her?

  He’d wanted so badly to love her. He’d yearned for her to open her arms and tell him she was sorry forever leaving him. He’d longed for those arms, those mother’s arms. He’d wanted the peace and warmth of their embrace. He’d wanted her to hold him and tell him how much she loved him, how she would always love him.

  But instead she’d told Malcolm her child at died at birth. During the years’ worth of hours he’d fantasized about her, she’d not given him a single thought. In her eyes, he’d been dead for thirty years. She’d erased him from her mind the day she left him, and he’d never existed for her again.

  Sterling felt frozen with anguish. Every wish and dream he’d ever had was shattered to bits. In his mind, he could see the thousands of fragments flying about, useless. The pain he felt at seeing them destroyed touched his very soul, and he could find no action, no thought, that would eliminate it.

  He felt something warm on his arm and looked down. Wrapped around him was Chimera’s pale hand. Unable to help himself, he covered it with his own for a moment before stepping away from her again.

  “Sterling,” she begged.

  “Ye’ve learned what ye came to learn, Sterlin’ Montoya,” Brianna said quickly, her gaze sweeping across the distance. “Malcolm and Garrett will be returnin’ soon. Listen, I’ll give ye money. I’ve been savin’ fer years, and Malcolm knows naught about it. ’Tis over five hundred dollars in gold, and ’tis yers if ye leave and
swear by the Virgin ye’ll niver show yer face here again!”

  Sterling’s jaw set. “The Virgin? What do you know of her? You’re not fit to utter her name!” He strode to her, looming above her. “I don’t want your money.”

  “Then leave! Please leave!” She backed away.

  He stalked her. “I came here today to learn about the things I’ve always wondered about. And I’ve learned plenty. My grandmother made her living by spreading her legs for any man who cared to push himself between them. My father was a criminal who was hanged for killing his whore. But perhaps the most revolting thing I learned today, Brianna, is that my mother is a selfish, malicious, heartless bitch. You say I sicken you? There is nothing more sickening than a woman who cares only for herself, than a mother with all the maternal instincts of a snake.”

  He slid his hat on, turned toward Chimera, and helped her mount Pegasus. “Go on, Chimera. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”

  She looked down at him, afraid to leave him. “But—”

  “Do as I say!”

  She made no move to obey. She’d speak her mind first. Raising her chin, she cast a hard look at Brianna. “I truly believe that the only reason why you didn’t kill Sterling thirty years ago was because you feared the same kind of execution Salvador suffered. But you are a criminal, Brianna. Hating an innocent newborn for his father’s sins is a crime against human nature.”

  Brianna glared at her. “You—”

  “As the proverb goes, Brianna, ‘Crime leaves a trail like a water beetle; like a snail, it leaves its shine; like a horse mango it leaves its reek.’ And you reek of something so vile there is no name for it. A hex on you, Brianna Chase. May your own stinking poison bring about your end.” She turned Pegasus and left.

  Sterling watched her depart, lost in the surge of emotion caused by her defense of him. He turned to face Brianna again and saw the undisguised hatred in her silver eyes. But he saw a hint of fear in her stony gaze too, and knew she was very unsure of what he would do. The knowledge made him smile.

  Brianna watched his slow smile with an anxious expression. “What...are ye goin’ to do?”

  “Leave.” She relaxed perceptibly, and it angered him further that her distress was being alleviated so quickly. “Yes, I’m leaving, Brianna...but someday I’ll return.”

  It was a tremendous lie, for he never wanted to lay eyes on her again. But he knew she’d believed him when her silver gaze widened, and her body began to tremble.

  She’d buried him thirty years ago, he raged silently. He’d come back from the dead today, and he’d make sure he never died for her again.

  “Every time you look into your mirror, think of me,” he told her. “Every afternoon you come out here to hang up your laundry, look for me. Don’t pass a single window of your house without glancing out from it, for you might very well see me coming. While you’re asleep beside Malcolm, dream of the day I’ll come back. And on that day, Mother, your secret will be revealed. It will take Malcolm only one look at me to know I’m your son. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Brianna? Someday I’ll be back.”

  He mounted and looked down into her silver, fear-filled eyes. “Farewell, Madre. Until we meet again.”

  Urging Gus into a gallop, he left the Chase ranch as quickly as his horse could carry him. He was just heading through the whitewashed gates when he heard the loud crack of gunfire. He rode on unharmed and wondered if the bullet had been meant to end his life, or if it had ended the life of another.

  He never turned back to see.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chimera waited for Sterling beside a bed of flowering cactus, but instead of stopping, he passed her and headed southeast. Chimera urged Pegasus into his fastest gait, but even turning as swiftly as he was capable, the camel could not catch the galloping gray stallion.

  Chimera was sure she’d been staring at Sterling’s back for three or four hours, when he finally stopped and dismounted. He tied his horse to a palo verde tree, withdrew one of his revolvers, and walked into thick grove of saguaro.

  Terror filled Chimera when she saw the gun in his hand. Sweet heaven, had he gone to kill himself? “Sterling!”

  She received no answer, and the giant cacti hid him from her view. The sudden explosion of gunfire startled her so badly, she fell off Pegasus and hit the ground with a dull thud. “Sterling!” Frantically, she picked herself up and flew toward the saguaros. Just as she reached them, he came from behind one, and she ran right into him, knocking him to the ground.

  “Dios mio, Chimera, what the hell—”

  She spat sand from her mouth. “Sterling! Sterling, I thought you’d shot yourself!”

  “People who kill themselves go to hell,” he snapped. “I was there this morning when I was at my bitch of a mother’s ranch, and I have no wish to return.” He stood and walked into the clearing, where he threw down the animal he’d just killed, and began gathering brush and twigs.

  “Sterling, I’m sorry. But when I saw the gun...”

  He did not reply nor did he look at her.

  “Sterling, please talk to me,” she begged. She sat beside him, saw him slide a knife from the sheath at his belt and begin to skin the animal. “Sterling—”

  “Ya, callete! Damn, be quiet! I’ve demanded your silence in two languages, Chimera, and if I knew a third—”

  “All right!” She remained silent while he roasted the meat and they ate it. He needed time to gather his thoughts, she rationalized desperately. In time he would talk to her. In time he would listen. In time he would turn to her.

  But when they’d finished the meal, she could bear his withdrawal no longer. “Sterling, please talk to me. Don’t keep it all inside—”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” He kicked sand over the fire and stalked to Gus. “Most especially with you.”

  His sharp words cut into her heart. He still believed she’d betrayed him. And he was so angry and hurt over what had happened with Brianna, that his opinion of women was lower now than ever. “Sterling, please! I didn’t know about the Apache wedding laws!” she blurted. “You need someone to talk to, and —please let it be me! I swear on Xenia’s soul that I’ve never tried to trap you into anything!”

  He mounted and looked down at her. “You broke your vow on Xenia’s soul the night you interrupted the Apache dance. Do you really expect me to believe you now?”

  “Then I swear on my own soul.”

  “Which is blacker than your hair.”

  “All right, I swear on yours!”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Get off that horse,” she demanded, her hands on her hips. “Get down right now!”

  He rode away . Frustration gripped her. She stomped her foot before smacking Pegasus’s shoulder with her palm. The camel crouched to the ground, and she mounted. “Sweet heaven, please help me,” she murmured, and urged Pegasus into a lumbering canter.

  The early evening breeze was sweeping through her hair when Sterling decided to camp for the night. They’d ridden some seven hours by Chimera’s best estimation, and they’d gone as quickly as Pegasus was able. Exhausted, she slid from the camel, sat, and held her face in her shaking hands.

  Sterling proceeded to make another fire. Without a word, he laid the rest of the meat from that morning in a pan and put it over the flames.

  Chimera saw the reflection of flames leap in the silver depths of his thickly lashed eyes. She saw such pain in them too, pain he refused to free. He was going to allow it to fester inside him. But only when all the poison was running out with his tears would he be able to see clearly. Now he was blind. “Sterling,” she said softly, “remember when we talked about tears?”

  “We’re going to ride hard tomorrow, and the day after that,” he said flatly. “Gus is used to it, and Pegasus is made for desert travel.”

  “Oh, really? Thank you for informing me of that fact. I’d never heard it before.” She crawled to where he was kneeling and put her
hand on his shoulder.

  He moved away, filled a plate for her, then turned his back to her.

  She pushed the food away. “Sterling, look at me.”

  He didn’t. He’d been avoiding looking at her all day. The sight of her brought him such sadness, he ached. He couldn’t bear to see her beauty and remember what deceit lay beneath it. The one woman he’d almost trusted. And Brianna...his mother. He closed his eyes against all the hurt.

  Chimera saw exactly what he was doing. “Sterling, I love—”

  “You lie. No more, Chimera. I’ll hear no more.”

  She defied the quiet warning in his voice. “Have you ever seen a piece of moldy cheese?”

  He let his chin drop to his chest. Dammit, it was no use. She wasn’t going to leave him alone.

  “You don’t throw away a piece of cheese just because it has some mold on it, Sterling. You cut the mold off, and the cheese inside is fresh.”

  His tired, furious mind tried to understand what she was telling him, but he got no further than comprehending that he was now a piece of cheese. “Cheese, Chimera? How the hell can you compare any of this to a damn piece of rotten cheese!”

  “Sterling, don’t you understand? All the betrayal—Brianna’s and what you believe to be mine—it’s covered you with mold! Cut it off! Get rid of it! It hasn’t reached your heart. And what remains in the heart is like an ember. With it you can start the fire again.”

  When he refused to answer her, look at her, she felt stabbing panic. A desperate dread that his pain was so great, so loud as it thundered through him, it would effectively silence the small and gentle voice of his heart. And the voice of his heart, she knew, would tell him to shed his tears before he drowned in them! Sweet heaven, if only he would release the grief!