by Smith, Bobbi
Her climax was shattering, pulsing through her in waves of rapture that left her pliant to his will. Rick didn’t want her to be a mere recipient of his passion; he wanted Jennie to share in his excitement. Easing himself from her, he shed the rest of his clothes before joining her once again on the bed. Fitting himself to her intimately, he rubbed his hips sensuously against hers, wanting her to feel the passion in him.
“Jennie.”
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him with open adoration.
“Love me, Jennie,” he murmured thickly and kissed her again.
A contented languor had stolen over Jennie, yet at the insistent feel of his arousal pressed to her, something elemental and wanton stirred to life within her. She wanted to satisfy him as perfectly as he had pleased her. Jennie reached down to caress him with knowing hands and then urged him over onto his back. Using the same pattern of teasing kisses, she brought him to the peak of fulfillment with her lips and tongue before moving over him to take him deeply within her body.
As Rick’s hands guided her hips, they strove for completion together, their movements frenzied with their desire. Suddenly, no longer content to be on the bottom, Rick shifted positions and pulled her under him, driving forcefully into her soft, wet warmth. Jennie reveled in his taking command and, wrapping her limbs around him, she held him close as he thrust against her. Each ardent stroke stoked the fires of their passion higher, until, in a burst of ecstasy, the flames of desire erupted into glowing beauty. Clasped together, they drifted; their hearts pounding in unison, their souls joined forever in love’s perfect promise.
Lucia was frustrated and furious as she sat alone in her room. How dare Rick throw her out of his room without even giving her a chance to explain! It didn’t matter to her that he had been right in his accusations. What mattered was that she knew now just how truly hopeless her desire for him was.
Lucia realized that after tonight she would never be able to face Rick again, and she knew that she had to leave. And leave she would, she decided in anger, but not the way Mac McCaine wanted her to go—shipped back to Mexico to live out a fate worse than death. No, she was going on her own terms. She would go now and she would take Pablo with her.
Lucia was certain that it would be easy to rescue Pablo for McCaine had made no mention of having someone stand guard on him tonight. The most difficult thing she had to do, she realized, would be in getting to the horses, but with Pablo’s help, she knew they would make it.
When Lucia heard Rick cross the courtyard in pursuit of Jennie, she tried to listen to their conversation, but once he entered her room it had been impossible to distinguish their words. It was only a short time later that she heard footsteps outside on the patio again, and she rushed to her doorway to watch in impotent fury as he strode purposefully back to his chamber carrying Jennie in his arms.
Jealousy ate at Lucia as she watched them disappear into his bedroom and she momentarily forgot her plan to leave. Her hatred of Jennie overwhelmed her. Why should Jennie have everything that she, Lucia, had always desired?
Beyond reason, Lucia slipped from her room and entered Jennie’s. Filled with envy, she stared about her. From the silver comb and brush set on the dressing table to the expensive furniture, the room bespoke of the McCaine’s wealth, and resentment built within her. Savagely, she pulled all of Jennie’s dresses from her wardrobe and threw them on the floor. With equal glee, she set about dumping out all the contents of the drawers in her chest and then followed with pulling all the bedclothes from the bed.
Feeling much better for having vented some of her anger, she started to leave the room, but then paused as her gaze fell upon the silver brush and comb set. With malicious intent, Lucia stripped the pillowcase off Jennie’s pillow, determined not to leave empty-handed. Snatching up the brush and comb, she dropped them into the pillow slip and also tossed in a silver-framed portrait. Rummaging through Jennie’s clothes, she picked out two dresses to take along with her and then quietly sneaked out of the room by way of the hallway door, once more intent on her original purpose.
Lucia remembered seeing the gun cabinet in the hall near the front door, and she went directly there for she knew she would need at least two rifles plus sidearms for both Pablo and herself. Silently turning the key that had been carelessly left in the lock, Lucia swung open the case door and chose the weapons. Shoving extra cartridges into her makeshift bag, she hurried from the house, eager to free Pablo and be gone.
Her movements furtive, Lucia crept near the bunk house, hoping to overhear in the conversation between the men inside exactly where Pablo had been locked up. She carried only a pistol with her, having stashed her bag near the stables, and she was poised, ready to take flight should anyone discover her presence.
The men of the M Circle C, however, were exhausted this night, and the last thing they were expecting was for someone to cause trouble right there on the ranch.
“Who d’ya think’s gonna get Steve’s job?” one man asked as they sat around the table in the center of the room.
“Probably Sandy or Jerry, ’cause they’ve been working here the longest,” another added. “But it really just depends on Mac.”
“What are they going to do with that outlaw we got out back.”
Lucia was relieved at the mention of Pablo and, remaining motionless, she continued to listen attentively.
“Haven’t heard, but I’m sure they ain’t gonna let him sit around here long. They’ll probably take him into town and turn him over to the law tomorrow.”
A murmur of agreement went through the men gathered there.
“I hope they do, because as long as we’ve got him locked up out there in one of the tool sheds, I keep thinking that maybe Malo will show up.”
“Nope. I think we’ve seen the last of him.”
Their conversation continued, but Lucia didn’t care. She had found out where Pablo was and that was all she needed to know. Slinking away into the shadows of the night, she tried to figure out which of the outbuildings was the one holding him. Darting from shed to shed, she checked each one until she finally found him.
“Pablo?”
“Lucia?” His answer came excitedly from inside the windowless shelter.
“It is me. I’m going to try to get you out of there. Do you know where the key is?” she asked as she noted the big padlock on the door.
“On a nail—around on the side of the building somewhere.”
Lucia quickly located it, smiling at her victory. Unlocking the door, she swung it open slowly.
Pablo emerged cautiously from the blackness of the interior. “Is it safe?”
“So far. Come, we must hurry so we can be far away from here by sunup. They were planning to take you into town tomorrow real early, so they will come looking for you then.”
“Put the lock back on, just in case somebody comes out to check,” he instructed. “Do you have horses?”
“No, not yet. I’ll need your help for that, but I did manage to steal some guns.”
“Good.” Pablo was pleased. He didn’t understand why she would be helping him, after the way she’d run off with Cazador, but he wasn’t about to argue with being rescued. There would be time enough later to find out her motives. “Where are the stables?”
“This way. Come on!” Lucia directed, taking care to keep her voice low as she led the way, and Pablo hurried after her.
Lucia took him first to where she’d hidden her booty. After giving him a rifle and gun and holster, they entered the stable expecting trouble and were amazed to find that there was no guard posted. Even the old man who lived in a room off to the side slept soundly the entire time they were inside. They led the mounts they’d picked some distance from the stable before mounting up.
“Lucia.” Pablo gave her an admiring look. “Remind me to thank you properly sometime.”
“You can thank me properly by making sure we get out of here alive,” she told him sharply.
“But
why did you do it? After you ran off with Cazador, I would never have suspected that you would want to help us—me—”
She snorted disagreeably. “Cazador is not who you think he is, and I did not find out until it was too late. The infamous El Cazador is, in reality, none other than Juan Peralta’s grandson, Ricardo Peralta.”
“What?”
“That’s right. He just rode along with us until he found the right time to try to help the old man escape.”
“But why did you go with him?”
She shrugged, “At the time, I thought he was smarter than Malo, and I figured I would be better off with him. Now I know I was wrong, but it’s too late.”
“Maybe not,” Pablo answered mysteriously.
“What do you mean?”
“For all that they may think Malo’s dead, I’ve got a feeling he’s very much alive somewhere.”
“But how do we find him?”
“That I don’t know, but if we could locate him again—knowing what we know now—”
“But where would he have gone? Mesa Roja?”
“Probably. And then he’d make it his business to find the nearest saloon,” Pablo answered.
They nodded in silent agreement and rode off in the direction of town.
Hildago could not sleep. The long hours of the night had been slow to pass, and she lay beside Mac, still restless. She knew she should wake him and give him the news, but she didn’t want to disturb his badly needed rest. Unable to stay in bed any longer, she rolled away from him and sat up on the edge of the mattress, preparing to get up.
“Where are you going?” Mac’s sleep-husky tones startled her, and she gasped. Mac sat up and stared at her questioningly after hearing her gasp. “Hildago? What is it?”
“Nothing—nothing, really,” she protested too quickly, rising from the bed and hoping to break the link of intimacy between them, but Mac came after her.
Earlier, when she had been so quiet, Mac had suspected that something was troubling her, but she had denied it. Now, he was sure of it, and he wanted her to share whatever it was with him. Maybe he could help.
“Darling, I’ve never seen you this way before. Tell me what it is. I’m sure I can help. You know I love you.”
Hildago faced him, then. Her dark eyes were wide with worry, her features pale at the thought of the news she was about to give him.
“It is something that I have to tell you that has me upset. If I could avoid this, believe me, I would. But there’s no way.”
Mac was completely at a loss to understand what she was talking about. “I don’t understand—”
“I have to give you something. It’s in your study.” Moving to the foot of the bed, she picked up her dressing gown and shrugged it on while Mac hastily pulled on his pants.
Without saying another word, Hildago headed through the darkened house straight to Mac’s study. She paused only long enough to light one lamp before picking up the envelope and holding it out to him.
“This came for you while you were gone.” She was careful to keep the emotion out of her voice.
“What is it?” He frowned as he took the missive from her. “Who’s this from?” Looking down at it, he suddenly blanched. “No, it can’t be, not now!”
In one vicious motion he ripped the sealed envelope open, pulled out the single page letter from within and began to read silently to himself.
My dearest husband,
I have been hoping for a reconciliation between us for some time now and can only pray that you have, too. I have missed you, darling, and am waiting anxiously to hear from you.
I am staying at the hotel in town, but would much rather be with you and my children. Please come as soon as you can.
As always
Eve
“My God!” He breathed shakily, sinking down into the chair behind his desk. When he looked up at Hildago, his expression was at first bewildered, but it soon changed to enraged. “My God! The woman must be crazy!”
“Then it was from Eve.” Hildago sighed.
“Here! Read it for yourself!” He thrust the sheet of paper into her hand as he stood up and began to pace the room.
Hildago read the letter and looked up at him, stricken. “She can’t mean this.”
“Who knows with that woman?” He ran a hand nervously through his hair as he tried to figure out what to do. “The hell with it.” He swore violently. “I’m going into town right now!”
“But, Mac! It’s the middle of the night!” She tried to stop him, fearful of what he might do in his frenzy of anger.
“You’re damn right it is!” He looked at Hildago. “And that’s exactly why I’m going, now. I doubt she’ll be expecting me at this hour.”
And with that he hurried from the study and headed back to their bedroom to finish dressing. Nervously, she watched him go, and in her heart she said a prayer that somehow, everything would all turn out all right.
Hildago followed him after a moment, hoping that there was something she could say that would help to calm him, but she knew by the expression on his face that it was useless. Resigning herself to the fact that Mac had to handle this in his own way, she said nothing until he strapped on his gunbelt and prepared to leave.
“Mac, what should I tell Jake and Jennie and Carrie?”
“You won’t have to tell them anything because there’s nothing they need to know. I’ll be back long before sunup, so don’t worry.” He checked his sidearm to see if it was loaded and then slid it neatly into the holster as he started from the room.
“Mac!” Hildago cried desperately. She wanted to run to Mac and cling to him so she could keep him from leaving, but she refrained with great effort. “Please, don’t do anything foolish.”
Mac only looked at her with a studied coolness and then, without a word, left the room.
Chapter Thirty-two
“I will stay here,” Lucia whispered to Pablo as they hid behind the stable in Mesa Roja. “They will be looking for us in the morning, and the fewer people there are who have seen us together, the better.”
“All right,” Pablo said, knowing she was right. “I will check out the saloon and come back for you.”
“Good. I will be waiting,” she answered, glad now to be in town and away from the threat of discovery by the McCaines.
Pablo moved easily out into the street and headed for Dolly’s. The crowd at the saloon was thinning out as he entered, and he made his way across the smoke-filled room to the bar.
“Whiskey,” he ordered, tossing a coin across the counter to the barkeep.
Ed set up the stranger’s drink and pocketed the money. “New here, aren’t ya?”
“Just passin’ through.” Pablo turned his back on the inquisitive bartender as he surveyed the room, hoping for some sign of Malo. “I’ll probably be moving on in the morning.”
Malo had been sitting at his favorite table in the corner, entertaining himself with several of the girls who worked in the establishment when he saw Pablo enter. He didn’t know by what stroke of luck his compadre had escaped death at the hands of the Apache, but he was glad. Without appearing to be too much in a hurry, he dismissed the women and ambled to the bar.
“Pablo?” He ventured.
“Hey! Compadre!” Pablo knew better than to use his real name. “I did not know you would be here!”
Malo shrugged. “I got tired of riding so I settled in here for a while. What brings you to Mesa Roja?”
“At last, I am heading home.” He sounded relieved without giving too much away.
“It has been so long since we’ve had a chance to talk. Let’s get a bottle and share a drink!” Malo clapped him on the back.
“I would like that.”
“I already have a room. Bartender! A bottle of whiskey!” Malo paid for the proffered liquor and then led Pablo up to his room.
When they were secreted in his bedroom, the door locked behind them, he embraced Pablo heartily. “It is good to see you, my friend
. I had thought you dead.”
“And I you. How did you get away from Mac McCaine?”
“There was a small cave. I hid there until they turned back and then I followed them out,” Malo explained. Then growing curious, he asked, “How did you get away from the Indians and the McCaines?”
“I have Lucia to thank for being free tonight.”
“Lucia?” His expression hardened at the mention of the woman who had betrayed him. “The puta! I will see her in hell!”
“Do not be so hard on her. She realizes now how wrong she was,” Pablo said.
“She does?”
“It is a long story and one I’m not sure you want to hear.”
“What do you mean?”
“Cazador.”
“What about him?” Malo was instantly curious. He had wondered what lies Cazador had told the McCaines in order to ride so freely in their midst.
“The infamous El Cazador is really Ricardo Peralta, the old man’s grandson!”
“He what?” Rage surged through him.
“Cazador is, in reality, Rick Peralta. He joined up with us just to rescue his grandfather.”
“He played me for a fool!” Malo took a deep swig from the bottle of whiskey, and when he looked up at Pablo his eyes were cold and deadly. “I will kill him. He cheated me out of the gold and my woman! No man does that to Miguel Malo and gets away with it!”
Pablo nodded, understanding his fury. “Lucia didn’t find out who Cazador really was until it was too late, and by then she knew that you wouldn’t take her back. She was trapped.”
“It was by her own choice. Do not expect me to care about her, Pablo. You would be asking too much,” Malo said as he tried to figure out a way to get even with Cazador/Peralta. He could not believe he’d been so stupid! Why, he had even promised Cazador half of the gold. No wonder the gunman had been so reluctant to commit himself! It had already been his gold! He glanced up at Pablo quickly. “Where is Cazador now?”