Courtney had asked her questions and learned that Calida worked in a saloon at night serving drinks—just that, nothing else, Mama assured her. Courtney sensed that Calida’s mother didn’t approve at all. Mama said emphatically that Calida didn’t have to work at all, that she worked only because she wanted to.
“Stubborn. My niha is stubborn. But she is a grown woman. What can I do?”
Courtney understood working in order to feel useful, for extra money—but in a saloon? When she didn’t have to?
Courtney counted herself fortunate that another day had passed without her being bothered again by the unpleasant Calida, and she dismissed her with that thought.
She went to bed early that night. Mama had gone to a party, and Calida was working, so the place was quiet. It was very noisy out in the street, however, because it was Saturday night, and Alameda was no different from other frontier towns. Men caroused all night, knowing they could sleep it off Sunday morning. Most of them didn’t have wives to drag them to church.
She smiled to herself, remembering how, in Rockley, she had often seen men nodding off in church, seen the bleary, reddened eyes, even seen some men holding their heads in pain when the sermon got too loud. It was probably the same here in Alameda.
She finally dozed off, and it wasn’t long before she was dreaming. The dream became unpleasant. She was hurt. There was a weight crushing her chest. She was crying and she couldn’t breathe. And then Chandos was there, telling her not to cry, soothing her fears the way only Chandos could do.
Soon he was kissing her, and she woke slowly, finding that he really was kissing her. It was his weight pressing on her that she’d been dreaming of. She didn’t stop to wonder why he hadn’t wakened her, only to rejoice that he wanted her. He gave in to his desire so seldom.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her. His mustache tickled her face. Courtney went cold.
“You’re not Chandos!” she cried, struggling against him.
Horror had made her voice shrill, and a hand covered her mouth. His hipbone knocked against hers and she felt his manhood hard against her belly. He was naked. The realization tore a scream from her, but his hand muffled it.
“Shh… Dios!” She bit his hand. He jerked the hand loose, then quickly put it back. “What is wrong with you, woman?” he hissed, exasperated.
Courtney tried to speak, but his hand was pressed against her mouth.
“No, I am not Chandos,” he said irritably. “What do you want with that one anyway? He is muy violento. Besides, he is not here. I will do, si?”
She shook her head with such force that she nearly dislodged his hand.
“You do not like Mexicans?” he said sharply, and the anger in his voice caused her to remain perfectly still.
“Calida told me you want a man,” he went on. “She say’s you are not particular. So I come here to do you a service—not force myself on you. Do you wish to see me first? Is that what is wrong?”
Stunned, Courtney nodded slowly.
“You will not scream when I take away my hand?” he asked, and she shook her head. He removed his hand. She didn’t scream.
He moved off her, watching her carefully as he got off the bed. She still didn’t scream, and he began to relax again.
Courtney knew how little good it would do her to scream. There was no one in the house and so much noise outside in the street that nobody would pay any attention. Instead, she reached under her pillow very carefully, feeling for her gun. That was one habit developed on the trail that she was thankful for. Not that she meant to use the gun. She didn’t think she would have to shoot the stranger.
Just as he struck a match, looking around for a lamp, Courtney managed to tug the sheet up over her without a sound and aim the gun. He saw the gun and stopped moving. He didn’t even breathe.
“Don’t drop that match, mister,” Courtney warned. “If that light goes out, I shoot.”
Courtney felt her blood begin to warm. It was a heady thing, the power a gun gave. She’d never fired it, but he didn’t know that. Her hand was steady. She wasn’t afraid now, and he was.
“Light the lamp, but don’t make any sudden moves… slowly, slowly, that’s right,” she directed. “Now you can blow out the match. Good,” she said after he had followed her instructions. “Now, just who the hell are you?”
“Mario.”
“Mario?” Her brow knitted thoughtfully. “Where have I heard… ?”
She remembered. Chandos had mentioned the name in his nightmare that night. What had he said? Something about Calida going to Mario’s bed.
“So you’re a friend of Calida’s?” she said scornfully.
“We are cousins.”
“Cousins, too? How nice for you.”
Her tone made him even more nervous. “My clothes, senorita? May I put them on? I think I have made a mistake.”
“No, you didn’t make the mistake, Mario, your cousin did. Yes, yes, put your clothes on.” She was beginning to get flustered. “Be quick about it.”
He was, and once she felt it was safe to look at him other than directly at his face, she appraised him. He was a big man, not so much tall as brawny, and most of his weight was in his chest. No wonder she’d felt crushed. God sakes, he probably could have snapped her in two with his hands. Certainly he could have finished what he’d come for, if he’d been inclined to use force. Thank God he wasn’t a really bad man.
“I will go,” he said hopefully. “With your permission, of course.”
It was meant as a cue for her to lower her gun. She didn’t.
“In a moment, Mario. What exactly did Calida tell you?”
“Lies, I think.”
“I don’t doubt that, but what lies, exactly?”
He decided to be blunt and get it over with. “She said you were a whore, sehorita, that you had come to Alameda to work in Bertha’s house.”
Courtney’s cheeks flamed. “Bertha’s is a whorehouse?”
“Si. A very fine one.”
“What am I doing here, then, if I intend to live there?”
“Calida said you had an injured foot.”
“That’s true.”
“She said you were staying here with her mama only until you recovered.”
“That’s not all she told you, Mario. Finish.”
“There is more, but you will not like it, I fear.”
“Let me hear it anyway,” Courtney replied coldly.
“She said you wanted a man, senorita, that you… could not wait for… until you moved to Bertha’s. She said you asked her to find you a man, that you were—desperate.”
“Why that lying…” Courtney exploded. “Did she really say ”desperate‘?“
He nodded vigorously, watching her closely.
Fury was evident in every line of her face, and her gun was still pointing at his heart.
She surprised him.
“You can go. No, don’t stop to put your boots on. Carry them. And Mario.” Her voice stopped him at the door. “If I find you in my room again, I’ll blow your head off.”
He didn’t doubt that.
Chapter 35
CALIDA waited all night for Mario to return to the saloon. When the saloon closed, she waited in his room. Around four o’clock in the morning, she finally fell asleep.
Courtney waited too, waiting for Calida to come home. She paced her room, anger feeding on itself. She heard Mama return from her party at ten o’clock, but after that the house stayed quiet. Finally, she gave up. Short of going to the saloon to confront Calida, which she wouldn’t do, she might have to wait until morning. She fell asleep.
Despite their lack of sleep, both Calida and Courtney woke early Sunday morning. For Calida, this was a near miracle, for she always slept late. But she was anxious to learn the results of the drama she had set in motion.
Mario had never returned, so she assumed he had seduced the gringa after all and had spent the whole night with her. That bei
ng the case, she set her mind to figuring out the best way to break this news to Chandos. Smiling, she left the saloon.
Mario watched her sashay down the street. He loved that puta, but he hated her, too. She had played her last trick on him. He knew what she was thinking. He’d refrained from going home so she would think it. Knowing she would be there, waiting to learn what had happened, he’d gone to Bertha’s instead and gotten drunk. He hadn’t slept at all.
He could barely keep his eyes open. Since dawn he’d stood at the window at Bertha’s, waiting for Calida to appear. Bertha’s house was at the end of town, so he had a clear view of the whole street.
Fifteen minutes ago, he’d seen the window open at the gringa’s bedroom in his cousin’s house, so he knew she was up. And five minutes ago Mama had left for church.
Mario wished he could be there to see what would happen now, but he would have to be satisfied just knowing Calida’s scheming had not turned out the way she wanted it to, for once. Let her see what it was like to face the gun of an angry woman! At last, he allowed himself to end his vigil at the window and fall asleep beside the whore snoring in the bed behind him.
Courtney stood at the kitchen stove, pouring a cup of the coffee Mama had made before leaving for church. Her temper was as hot as the coffee. Every time she thought of what might have happened last night, her anger boiled over.
When Calida entered the kitchen, there was Courtney. Calida was surprised to find her up, and surprise showed in her eyes. Courtney was alone.
Calida sauntered forward slowly, hips swaying. She grinned, taking in Courtney’s haggard appearance.
“How was your night, puta?” she asked, giggling. “Is Mario still here?”
“Mario didn’t stay,” Courtney said slowly and quietly. “He was afraid I would shoot him.”
Calida’s grin faded. “Liar. Where is he if not here? He did not come home, I know that.”
“He’s probably in some other woman’s bed, since he didn’t get what he came to this house for.”
“That is what you say, but I wonder if Chandos will believe it,” Calida said viciously.
Courtney understood now. So this had been for Chandos’s benefit. She ought to’ve guessed.
She took Calida by surprise, slapping her as hard as she could, dropping the coffee cup as she did so. Calida growled as the two women reached for each other, nails bared. In moments they were rolling on the floor. Calida was an old hand at brawling. She fought dirty. Courtney, on the other hand, had never even imagined what fighting would be like. But this was an outlet for her fury, and she had never in her life been so angry. Used, abused, entirely for spite, she fought wildly.
Courtney got in two more solid slaps, and the second one gave Calida a bloody nose. But Courtney lost her hold when Calida jammed a knee into her stomach, putting all her weight behind the blow. The older girl then shot to her feet and ran to the kitchen cabinet. As Courtney rose, Calida swung back around, a savagely exultant expression on her face and a knife in her hand.
Courtney was stopped cold. Prickles raced across her scalp.
“Why do you hesitate?” Calida taunted. “You wanted my blood, so come and get it.”
Courtney watched the knife waving hypnotically back and forth. She considered backing off, but Calida would win if she did. She would get away with her viciousness and have only a bloody nose in payment. That wasn’t enough. Courtney’s honor demanded that she win this battle.
Calida took Courtney’s hesitation for capitulation. She thought she had her. The last thing she was expecting was for Courtney to lunge at the knife, latching onto Calida’s wrist.
Calida’s mind whirled. She didn’t dare kill a gringa, no matter that Courtney had attacked her first. They would hang her because she was a Mexican. The gringa could, however, kill Calida. The look in Courtney’s eye gave every indication that she would use the knife if she got her hands on it.
Calida became truly frightened. The girl was crazy.
Courtney’s grip on her wrist tightened and she moved a step closer to Calida.
“Drop it!”
They sprang apart, shocked. Chandos stood in the doorway, his expression thunderous.
“I said drop the goddamn knife!”
It clattered to the floor, and the girls moved farther apart. Calida began straightening her clothes and wiping the blood from her face. Having no idea what else to do, Courtney moved to pick up the coffee cup she had dropped. She couldn’t look at Chandos. She was mortified to have been found brawling.
“I’m waiting,” Chandos said.
Courtney glared at Calida, but Calida tossed her head, glaring right back. She had always been able to lie her way out of anything.
“This gringa you bring here, she attacked me,” Calida said hotly.
“That, true, Courtney?”
Courtney whirled on him, her eyes wide with astonishment. “Courtney?” she echoed with disbelief. “Now you call me Courtney? Why? Why now?”
He sighed and dropped his saddlebags to the floor, then walked toward her slowly. “What the hell’s got you so fired up?”
“She is jealous, querido,” Calida purred.
Courtney gasped. “That’s a lie! If you’re going to start lying, you bitch, then I guess I’ll have to tell him the truth!”
“Then tell him about how you kicked me out of your room when we had only just met,” Calida began hurriedly, then went on to embellish further. “She was horrible to me, Chandos. When I only asked why she was here, she shouted at me that it was none of my business.”
“As I recall, you did all the shouting that day.” Courtney bristled.
“Me?” Calida was wide-eyed with wonder. “I came to make you welcome and—”
“Shut up, Calida,” Chandos growled, his small supply of patience wearing thin. He grabbed Courtney’s arms, bringing her close to him. “Lady, you’d better do some fast talking. I rode all night to get back here. I’m dead tired, and I don’t care to sift through lies to get the truth. Tell me now what happened.”
Feeling like a cornered animal, Courtney attacked. “You want to know what happened? All right. I woke up last night to find a man in my bed—as naked as I was—and your—your mistress sent him to me!”
His hands tightened. But his voice was oh-so-soft.
“Were you hurt?”
It cut through the haze of fury. She knew he was dangerously angry, and that he could ask that question before anything else warmed her.
“No.”
“How far did he?”
“Chandos!”
She couldn’t bear to speak of it in front of Calida, but Chandos was losing his control.
“You must have been dead to the world if he could get your clothes off without waking you,” he said. “How far did?”
“God sakes,” she snapped, “I took off my clothes before I went to bed. I had closed the window because of the noise, so it was hot in the room. I was asleep when he snuck into my room. I assume he had his clothes on, then took them off before he crawled on top of me.”
“How far did he?”
“He only kissed me, Chandos,” she interrupted again. “As soon as I felt his mustache, I knew he wasn’t—” She stopped, and her voice became a whisper before she finished, “You.”
“And then?” he asked after a silence.
“Naturally I… made my objections clear. He wasn’t expecting that. He got up to light the lamp, and as soon as he was away from me I reached for my gun. He was frightened enough to tell me the truth.”
They both turned and looked at Calida.
“A very pretty story, gringo,” Calida said, “but Mario did not come home last night. If he did not spend the night with you, then where did he go?”
Chandos set Courtney away from him and turned to Calida, impaling her with his eyes. Calida had never seen Chandos like this. It was her first realization that he might not believe her so easily, and she began to clench her hands.
“Mar
io?” he demanded furiously. “You sent Mario to her?”
Calida backed away. “Send him? No,” she hastily denied. “I told him she was here. I only suggested he come and meet her, maybe cheer her up, because she was alone. If the gringa invited him into her bed, this is not my doing.”
“You lying bitch!” Courtney gasped, outraged.
Chandos wasn’t buying it, either. His hand shot out, and the fingers closed around Calida’s throat.
“I ought to break your neck, you conniving bitch!” he snarled into her terrified face. “The woman you turned your spite on is under my protection. I thought this was the one place I could leave her where she would be safe. But you had to play a vicious game, and now I have to kill a man I’ve got nothing against, because he fell in with your evil scheming.”
Calida blanched. “Kill him?” she cried. “For what? He did nothing! She says he did nothing!”
Chandos shoved her away from him. “He broke into her room and frightened her. He put his hands on her. That’s reason enough.”
He headed for the door and Courtney ran after him, grabbing his arm and stopping him. She was frightened and angry and thrilled all at once.
“You take your job too seriously sometimes, Chandos—not that I don’t appreciate it. But, God sakes, if I’d wanted him dead, I could have shot him myself.”
“You don’t have it in you, cateyes,” he murmured, not without a trace of humor.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she retorted. “But you can’t kill Mario, Chandos. It wasn’t his fault. She told him lies about my coming here to work at Bertha’s.” Courtney assumed he knew who Bertha was. “She told him I was a— a whore and that I needed a man, that I was— was—” Courtney’s temper exploded again. “Desperate!” Chandos nearly choked. “Don’t you dare laugh!” she cried.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She eyed him suspiciously. Oh, well, at least he no longer had murder in his eyes.
A Heart so Wild - Straton 1 Page 19