Arizona Temptress

by Smith, Bobbi

  Some time later, when Todd reentered the ranch house, Mac hurried out of the study to greet him. Without saying a word, he directed the younger man inside the privacy of his office and closed the door behind them.

  “How did it go?” he asked as he poured them both a drink. He was more than eager to find out how his favorite daughter had responded to Todd’s proposal.

  Todd shrugged his broad shoulders as he took the tumbler of bourbon from Mac. “I get the feeling that Jennie thinks of me as another big brother.”

  “Well, change her mind!” Mac ordered brusquely. “That shouldn’t be too hard for you. She trusts you.”

  “Of course she does and I won’t break that trust. I love Jennie, but there’s no way I can force her to love me.” Todd’s jaw was set with determination when Mac glanced up at him. “I’ll just have to be patient with her and hope that she’ll come to return my feelings.”

  “Oh, all right. Have it your way.” He acquiesced without his usual grace. “But I want you in the family—and soon.”

  “I’m honored by your sentiments.” Todd grinned at the older man who was his close friend and confidant.

  “Ha!” His response was tempered with good humor now that they’d cleared the air about Jennie. “And speaking of relations, when is that errant son of mine, Jake, coming home? You did see him in Santa Lucia yesterday, didn’t you?”

  “We had a drink together at Dolly’s bar. Jake mentioned that he had another meeting with Robertson today and if everything went well, he’d probably be heading back tomorrow.”

  “Good.” Mac stood up and moved to the bar to refill his glass with his favorite whiskey. “Do you want some more?” He held out the decanter to Todd when he’d finished pouring himself a generous libation.

  “No. I’m done for the night. I’ve got to be on my way home first thing in the morning.” Todd got up and started out of the room.

  “We’ll have an early breakfast then.”

  “Sounds good. Good night, Mac.” And with that, Todd retired for the evening.

  Mac was standing at the study window, staring out across the night-shrouded land that he loved when the soft knock at the door drew his attention. “Come in.”

  “Mac—” Hildago entered, shutting the door behind her. Without pause, she hurried across the room and into Mac’s waiting arms. Their embrace was not a torrid one; instead, it was the shared affection of lovers well known to one another. “How did it go?”

  “Jennie surprised me again,” he began after kissing her softly. “I was sure that she’d jump at the chance to marry Todd. I mean, she’s known him for most of her life. Why not marry him? He’s a good man.”

  “She said no?”

  “Well, not exactly. She told Todd that she wasn’t ready to get married yet.” Mac released Hildago and picked up his tumbler of whiskey, taking a hefty swallow.

  “At least she was being honest with him.” Hildago was pleased by Jennie’s answer. “And that doesn’t mean that she won’t marry him. It just means that she wants more time to think about it.”

  Turning to her, his solemn features brightened. “I’m glad you understand her so well.”

  She smiled at his compliment. “Sometimes I think I know her better than she knows herself.”

  “Then convince her to marry Todd. They’d be perfect together, and with the ranches adjoining each other—”

  Hildago shook her head as Mac’s thoughts turned invariably to the business side of the arrangement. “If there’s one thing I do know about Jennie, it’s that she won’t be pushed. She’s just like you that way, Mac.”

  Mac looked disgruntled but didn’t respond.

  “You shouldn’t worry so much about it. When she’s ready to get married, I’m sure we’ll be among the first to know.”

  “But I want her to marry Todd,” he persisted stubbornly.

  “She may very well still marry him. We just have to let her decide.”

  “What’s to decide?” He started to protest again.

  “If she loves him. Mac—” Hildago’s dark eyes caught, held and challenged Mac’s gray ones. “What is a marriage without love?”

  He tensed. “You’re right.” Taking her into his arms once more, he hugged her to his heart. “A marriage without love is pure hell on earth.”

  Hildago knew his pain and didn’t speak for long moments. “You’ll be understanding then? You won’t try to influence her one way or the other?”

  Mac sighed heavily and then stepped back to look down at her. “You win. Jennie can pick her own husband. I won’t push her. But, damn it Hildago—I like Todd!”

  Hildago smiled tenderly as she moved back into the circle of his protective embrace, an embrace she had shared for many years now. “I knew you’d listen to reason. And who knows? Todd may end up in the family yet, anyway.”

  Chapter Two

  The patrons of Dolly’s bar in Mesa Roja were a rowdy bunch, and Jake McCaine was no exception as he unceremoniously hauled the dance hall girl across his lap and zestfully kissed her inviting mouth. “Thanks for the drink, Mimi!”

  “You’re welcome, Jake,” Mimi cooed, linking her arms around his neck and returning his embrace with equal fervor. “When you finish your drink we could go upstairs.” She rubbed sensuously against his chest, enjoying just being close to him. Mimi found Jake’s tall blond good looks irresistible, and she prided herself on the fact that she was the only girl in the saloon he’d bed.

  “Maybe we will,” he agreed, holding the scantily clad Mimi a willing captive.

  With gusto Jake picked up his beer and took a hefty swig. Relaxing back in the chair, he let his gaze drift lazily around the crowded bar while he openly fondled Mimi’s ample charms. He was feeling good this night and a celebration was definitely in order. His meeting with neighboring rancher Fred Robertson had gone well, and he was confident that the agreement they’d reached concerning the water rights would satisfy his father.

  Jake was about to take Mimi up on her very attractive offer, when the tall, dark-haired stranger entered the saloon. Though it had been a few years since they’d ridden together, Jake immediately recognized his old companion Rick Peralta, and he was eager to renew their friendship. Releasing his hold on Mimi, he stood up.

  “Mimi, honey. Don’t go anywhere.” He nuzzled her neck affectionately. “I’ll be right back.”

  Mimi started to pout, but when she recognized the promise in Jake’s eyes she smiled. “I’d wait all night for you Jake.” She pressed his solidly muscled arm to her breasts.

  “Good. Stay here. I won’t be long.” Setting her from him, he made his way toward Rick.

  Rick Peralta was uneasy as he glanced around the smoke-filled saloon because his sharply honed instincts were warning him of potential danger. But when he noted nothing out of the ordinary, he approached the bar with a casualness of manner that belied the tension in his lean body.

  “What’ll it be?” the barkeep asked, eyeing the dark-clad stranger suspiciously as he sensed the aura of barely leashed danger about him.

  “Whiskey,” Rick ordered abruptly, his gaze meeting the other man’s impassively.

  Scurrying to serve him, the bartender hurried to pour his drink.

  “Leave the bottle.”

  “Right.” And he moved quickly away.

  Rick drained his glass and was lifting the bottle to pour another, when he saw Jake coming across the room. Muttering a violent curse under his breath, he pulled the brim of his black hat low over his face and shifted positions to better shield himself from Jake’s curious gaze. The last thing he needed was to be recognized by an old friend—especially now, but it was too late.

  “Rick?” Jake’s question was barely out of his mouth when Rick moved.

  It was a lightning blow, totally unexpected and completely effective, and Rick stood over Jake’s prone, unconscious body like a conquering warrior, his hand resting easily on the butt of his holstered gun. His chiseled features were fierce as he stare
d down the stunned crowd that remained motionless around him. When no one else made a move, Rick turned back to the bar.

  “Get him out of here.” He gestured toward Jake. “He bothers me.”

  “Yes, sir.” The bartender’s eyes were wide with frightened respect as he hurried to do his bidding. “Harry—John—take him upstairs to Mimi’s room. Now!”

  Rick paid little attention as the two men carried Jake’s limp form from the room with Mimi following worriedly behind.

  “Can I get you anything else, sir?” The barkeep was almost timid in his approach.

  “The name’s Cazador. Remember it,” Rick said, sliding a coin across the wet slickness of the bar.

  The man’s eyes widened as he recognized the name. “Yes, sir.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Ed.”

  “Well, Ed,” Rick drawled, seemingly amused by the man’s reaction to learning his identity, “I’ll need a room for the night.”

  “Seventy-five cents and you can take your pick at the top of the stairs. A dollar more if you want a woman,” he nodded helpfully.

  “Just a room.” His lips twisted into a semblance of a smile. “Thanks anyway.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If anybody comes looking for me, I want to know about it. All right?”

  “Yes, sir,” he hastily assured him.

  “Good. Give me another bottle, then.”

  Ed pulled a full bottle of whiskey from under the counter. “That’ll be two dollars.”

  “Here.” Rick tossed him a gold piece as he headed toward the stairs. “Keep the change.”

  “Thank you!”

  “Just remember what I told you.”

  “I will.” Ed watched until Rick had disappeared up the steep steps before turning to the other men at the bar. “Do you know who that was? That was El Cazador.” An excited murmur stirred through the group of men who’d gathered nearby because they had all heard the tales of the infamous gunfighter El Cazador.

  With softly measured tread, Rick made his way down the narrow, darkened hallway, listening carefully at each closed door. When he finally heard Jake’s groaning voice behind one, he noted the number and then quickly chose a room of his own nearby. Letting himself in, he was unimpressed by his surroundings: a single bed, a washstand, a chair. All rented rooms were depressingly alike as far as he was concerned, but as long as the bed linens were clean he wouldn’t complain.

  Extinguishing the lamp that had been left burning, he pulled the chair to the window overlooking the main street below and sat down. Drawing his gun and resting it easily across his lap, he propped his feet up on the sill. Rick stirred uneasily as he wondered what else could possibly go wrong. Totally disgusted and more than a little edgy, he settled back to wait.

  Rick knew that he had to get to Jake as soon as possible to explain his actions, but he couldn’t make the attempt until he was certain that his friend was alone. What he had to tell him was a matter of life and death, and Rick knew he couldn’t take any chances.

  Thank God, Jake hadn’t used his last name. He couldn’t let his real identity become known. He was El Cazador again now for, despite his earlier vow to give up this way of life, there was no other way for him to handle his current situation. To deal with killers, you had to act like a killer, and shortly he would have to deal with Miguel Malo, the most bloodthirsty outlaw in all the Southwest.

  Rick cursed and tightened his grip on his revolver as he thought of Malo and how the lowlife bastard had raided the Peralta ranch, El Rancho Grande, two weeks before killing six ranchhands and kidnapping his elderly grandfather, Juan. Rick had been out on the range working the stock when he received the news of the attack and from the moment he’d found out, he’d known what he had to do. There was only one possible way to free Juan and that was by working within Malo’s gang itself, and as El Cazador he could do that.

  Rick realized how lucky it was that only a few people knew that Ricardo Peralta and El Cazador the gunfighter were one and the same, and he was determined to keep it that way. Secrecy was of the utmost importance to him now, for tonight he was to meet with some of Malo’s men and begin the short journey to his camp.

  Being accepted into their ranks was only the first step in Rick’s plan to rescue his grandfather. No matter what he did, Rick knew it wasn’t going to be easy to free Juan from their fiendish clutches.

  The sound of Mimi’s low, throaty voice in the hallway brought him back to the present, and he listened intently as she finally left her room.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Jake. You just rest for a while, darlin’.”

  Once he was certain that Mimi had gone, Rick crossed the hall swiftly and silently let himself into her room.

  “I was wondering when you were going to show up.” Jake’s voice was cool and his hand steady as he aimed his gun straight at Rick’s chest, but Rick only grinned and sauntered across the room to where his old friend lay in bed.

  “I would have come sooner, but I didn’t want to interrupt anything.” He sat down easily in the overstuffed chair by the bed and then leaned forward to push the barrel of the firearm aside. “Be careful with that thing—somebody might get hurt.”

  Staring at Rick assessingly, Jake let up on the hammer and placed the gun on the nightstand. Relaxing against the headboard as he gathered the sheets more strategically about him, he rubbed his bruised jaw and glared at Rick indignantly. “I already have been! Aren’t you going to ask me how my jaw is?”

  “I thought Mimi would have taken care of that by now.” Rick chuckled at Jake’s discomfort.

  “She took care of some parts of me that were aching, but my jaw wasn’t one of them.” Jake gestured at his own barely concealed nudity and tried to smile, but the effort cost him a small groan. Swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and started to pull on his pants. “Why the hell did you hit me?”

  Rick’s expression immediately hardened. “It’s a long story, but the bottom line is no one knows I’m Rick Peralta and I have to keep it that way. I’m El Cazador again.”

  “What?” Jake was confused. “I thought you’d decided to give it all up and go home.” He well remembered how Rick had grown tired of the suicidal life he’d been leading as a hired gun and how he had wanted to return home to his grandfather’s ranch.

  “I did. I’ve been back working at El Rancho Grande for almost two years. But that’s all changed now.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve heard of Miguel Malo, haven’t you?”

  “Who hasn’t? The man’s scum.” Jake’s words were bitter as he remembered the stories of the carnage the bandit had wreaked across the Southwest. He was a cold-blooded murderer who killed for the joy of it.

  “He’s kidnapped my grandfather.” Rick spoke softly, almost despairingly.

  “Juan—why?” He turned quickly to face his friend.

  “The gold mine. Evidently, he thinks Juan is the only one who knows the exact location. The housekeeper overheard them arguing about it. At first, Malo thought there was a map to the mine and when he found out there wasn’t, he took Juan captive and is forcing him to guide them to it.”

  “Let’s go get him out. All I have to do is send word back home that I’m leaving for a few weeks—”

  “It’s not that simple, Jake. We just can’t go riding into their camp like vigilantes. Grandfather would be dead as soon as the first shot was fired.” Rick’s calm, controlled manner tempered Jake’s impulsiveness, just as it had all those years before when they rode together. “I have a plan.”

  “I’ll help.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll handle it. I’m riding as El Cazador again.” Rick watched the expression on his friend’s face. “That’s why I couldn’t let you say my name downstairs.”

  “I’m sorry.” He was contrite. “I could have ruined everything for you.”

  “Don’t worry, The men I’m here to meet haven’t shown up yet.”

  “So, w
hat’s your plan?”

  “As El Cazador, they’ll know me by my reputation. No one will doubt who I am.”

  “But how are you going to get your grandfather out of there without getting both of you killed?”

  “Time is on my side. They’re not going to do anything to Juan until they’ve reached the mine.”

  “Let me help you. We rode together once.” Jake’s offer was sincere for he knew of Rick’s earlier traumatic experience in the Superstitions, and he knew how difficult it would be for him to go back.

  “I know and I appreciate your offer, But not this time, Jake. I have to go alone. Any other way would only complicate things further.” Rick paused and then smiled grimly. “Besides, I may have help getting rid of Malo.”

  “The Apache?”

  “Exactly.”

  Jake fell silent as he contemplated the danger Rick was about to face. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Rick stood up and turned away from him, walking slowly to the window. His answer when it came was simple, yet heartfelt. “Pray.”

  Chapter Three

  The morning sun streaked the eastern horizon with streamers of pink and gold as it celebrated its escape from night’s clinging embrace. Birds joined in a raucous chorus to add nature’s music to the glory of the new day’s dawning.

  Hustling about her bedroom, Jennie finished buttoning her blouse and tucked the soft white material into the waistband of her fitted riding skirt. Plopping down on her bed in a most unladylike fashion, she made quick business of tugging on her riding boots. After taking only a moment to tie her hair back with a ribbon, she raced from her room, intent only on enjoying the pleasure of her morning ride.

  Regardless of the weather, Jennie rode daily at dawn. The solitary hour she spent roaming the endless miles of the rugged McCaine ranch was a peace-filled sabbatical for her, continually renewing her respect and love for the land.

  This particular morning, though, fate conspired against her, and her life would never be the same again. Striding purposefully into the stable, she came face to face with Todd who was busy saddling his stallion.