Night Flower (Gone-to-Texas Trilogy)

by Shirl Henke

  Adam gulped in surprise, but Melanie's gold eyes took on a catlike gleam and she whispered, “This little assignment that brought you from the capital to San Antonio wouldn't have anything to do with a polecat named Lucas Blaine, would it? He and that scum Walkman are thick as thieves. They are thieves, in fact.” At the ranger's look of amazement, Melanie quickly told him about the story that would appear in that day's edition of the Star.

  “You mean you rode out after a band of renegades and got involved in those killings?” He couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice. “You could’ve been shot or worse!”

  “Those possibilities have been pointed out to me,” she said darkly. Glancing over at her brother's wide-eyed stare and not wanting to chance his divulging any of her professional secrets to their parents, Melanie said sweetly, “Adam, didn't you say you and Papa were supposed to go look at some breeding stock out on Bluebonnet this afternoon?”

  Adam Fleming knew the pugnacious set of his sister's little chin. Sighing, he stood up. “Yep, I did and I am late. You just be careful, both of you.” Uneasily, he nodded and signaled Serefìn, the owner of the place. When the old man had taken his money for the meal, Adam headed back toward the boardinghouse with grave misgivings. Mellie never had answered his question about Lee Velasquez. At times like this, he almost felt sorry for the poor bastard!

  Once free of Adam's youthful curiosity, Melanie quickly explained to the ranger about Moses French and her article for the Star, outlining her contacts with the Indian children. “So you see, I think we can work together, Mr. Lawrence. You want to catch a crooked ranger and stop the whiskey and gun traffic to the renegades, and I want the story. Of course, I won't print anything until you have all the facts and make the arrests,” she added hastily, sensing he was about to refuse.

  “I don't know, Mrs. Velasquez. This isn't a game. These men are very dangerous,” he said speculatively.

  “So were the men with Walkman that day they massacred a whole village of Comanche up on the fork of the Guadelupe,” she said quietly.

  “Moses French was there, too, I take it,” he replied, whistling low in amazement. “You are quite an incredible woman, Melanie Velasquez. Just what does your husband think of all your adventures?”

  “That they're over,” came the terse reply from behind them. Melanie let out a gasp and whirled to face Lee's set features. “Come on, wife, we're going home,” he commanded while his black eyes bored into Lawrence's blue ones.

  Jeremy stood up on the opposite side of the table. Although tall as Lee, he was heavier with thickset bones and tightly knit muscles. “I take it you're Lee Velasquez,” he said gravely, sensing the undercurrent of hostility between husband and wife. He did not offer a handshake to Lee, instinctively sensing the Tejano would refuse it.

  “Clarence said you'd likely be here, Melanie, but you were supposedly with Adam.” Lee hated the jealous tone in his voice.

  Refusing to justify her perfectly innocent actions to the tyrant looming over her, Melanie replied over sweetly, “Adam had to go. Jeremy and I were discussing some Star business. Whatever are you doing in town? I thought you had a ranch to run.”

  “I do and I need to get back to work—that is, as soon as I see my wife safely home. Clarence assured me he and Amos can put the paper to bed without your help,” he added sarcastically. His fingers bit cruelly into her arm as he virtually dragged her from her chair.

  “I'd hate for you to get the wrong impression, Velasquez,” Jeremy said very softly. “Mrs. Velasquez and I were only discussing my arrival in San Antonio so she could mention it in the social news.”

  “Sometimes my wife works too hard on the social scene in this city. Right now, she's needed at Night Flower,” Lee replied as his obsidian eyes dared the big ranger to cross him.

  Suddenly, Melanie realized she was standing between two armed men, both with quick tempers. Violence hung suspended in the air. Very dangerous. Jeremy's words about the renegades came back to her. All Texian men, on either side of the law, were dangerous. “Calm down, Lee. Mr. Lawrence is a peace officer, not a border ruffian.” The minute the words escaped her lips she wanted to call them back. They were the very words she had used to describe Lee three days ago!

  Lee flashed an evil, wolf like smile at the younger man. “Strange, I'd never thought of calling a rinche a peace officer—unless you consider there's peace when every Tejano in the country's dead and buried!”

  Jeremy stiffened at the hated epithet rinche, used by Tejanos as the crudest insult to a ranger. “Because your lady's here, I'll let that pass, Velasquez. You're not the reason I'm in San Antonio, but I wouldn't get in the way of the law if I were you.”

  “I somehow suspect your law and mine don't exactly mesh, Lawrence. Go after your renegades, but leave my wife out of it.” Lee's voice was low and steady as he measured the Texian, wondering if he'd try to start a fight. Feeling a primitive blood lust surge through his veins, he hoped the younger man would oblige him.

  But Lawrence was under strict orders and knew he must obey them. Tipping his hat at Melanie, he said, “I don't involve women in violence, Velasquez. Take care of her.” He walked slowly out the door.

  Once he was gone, Melanie whirled on Lee like an enraged wildcat. “You wanted to kill him! You insulted him and goaded him like some cheap saloon brawler!” Seeing the gaze of several customers across the room traveling to the sound of her strident voice, Melanie subsided in humiliation.

  Lee ignored the sprinkling of curious customers and replied heavily, “We agreed you could do your social and gossip news, Melanie, but don't play me for a fool. That ranger isn't social news. He's trouble. Remember, Moses French is dead.” With that, he steered her toward the door, never relinquishing his iron grip on her arm.

  They rode back to the ranch in silence. Melanie’s mind whirled with all the possibilities working with Jeremy Lawrence could provide her. But she must keep Lee off guard and let him think he'd won. What if he locked her up at the ranch and kept such a close watch on her that Moses French couldn't operate? No, she must help Jeremy and he'd help her. Together they could see Walkman and Blaine in jail. What a story she would have then!

  Chapter Fourteen

  You aren't in love with the man after all, are you? Adam's words echoed in her mind as she lay in her bed that night. Her initial excitement about working with Jeremy Lawrence had faded, and her desolation had grown as they neared the ranch. Lee had been angry and silent on the ride home, his limitless Hispanic vanity wounded because she was seen in a public place with a strange man the day after her wedding. Facing his brooding presence across the dinner table that night, she was reminded of the empty year ahead of her.

  But if they were going to go their separate ways at year's end, she would be free to live out her life as she saw fit. Then why these bitter tears? Why the ache in her heart? Have I grown to be such a fool as to hope, after all these years, that he’ll love me? That I can have a real marriage? Punching her pillow, she rolled over and tried to sleep, not liking the answer the night wind gave.

  After the third sleepless night in a row, Lee knew he was dangerously close to losing his control. He had agreed to her insane scheme, allowing her to go to town and work at the Star after they were married. But when he had returned to the ranch for the midday meal the very day after their wedding, Kai had informed him she was in San Antonio!

  She could not even wait a decent interval before returning to work. Furiously angry, he had ridden Sangre hard to the newspaper office, only to be told by that supercilious old editor that she and her brother were lunching down the street. Prepared to lecture her on propriety, then ask her to accompany him to Frascatti's Emporium to select some furnishings for the house, he had found her engrossed in conversation with a strange man. A ranger! Not another woman alive would do such a reckless, unthinking thing. His wife with a ranger—a big, handsome Anglo with a southern accent. Just the type to charm her fickle soul, he thought angrily. He would be well
rid of her at year's end.

  Forcing himself to consider that, he went over his rehearsed speech to Larena once again. He could not leave things as they were between them, with her thinking he had a true marriage with Melanie. If he could make her understand that he would be free at the end of the year, then perhaps she would forgive him and wait until he could offer marriage.

  He refused to admit that seeing Melanie with Lawrence had triggered his decision to seek out Larena so soon. Originally, he had planned to wait a month or two and allow things to cool down. But Melanie had dealt his pride a terrible blow, taking off without a by-your-leave when he had planned the afternoon as a sort of peace offering. The day before she'd seemed pleased with the idea of decorating the house and had even mentioned the dry-goods importer's warehouse. She could furnish the house or not; he didn't care anymore. He would doubtless want to have Larena redo it anyway—if she loved him enough to wait.

  Realizing his tactical error in going to the Sandovals' house the first time, where her parents would prevent his seeing her, Lee decided on another strategy. He sent a note to her through her cousin Teresa, asking Larena to meet him in a secluded area behind San Fernando Church. She and her cousin went to confession every Wednesday afternoon at two o'clock. At two-thirty he dismounted from Sangre and tethered the big blue near a small park down the street from the church.

  Numerous young ladies strolling in the park with their dueñas noticed the tall, handsome caballero who walked like a stalking panther. His chiseled face was arresting, enhanced rather than disfigured by the thin scars on his cheekbone and at his hairline. He ran his long, elegant fingers through curling black hair, pushing it off his high forehead. The tightly molded black suit with its fitted jacket and flared pant legs left little to the imagination. He was lean with rangy, hard muscles that projected an aura of grace and danger.

  Noticing one very pretty, very young girl's brown eyes on him, he flashed her a wicked grin. She blushed but boldly returned his smile with an enticing wink before her dueña yanked her away toward San Fernando Church. The girl reminded him of Melanie when he had first met her. He swore under his breath. Would nothing get that damnable woman off his mind? His wife was no longer a high-spirited waif but a willful schemer who placed him in jeopardy every time he came near her. Come to think of it, she'd done that even when she was twelve years old!

  Larena had spent a sleepless night after receiving Lee's message. Should she risk her reputation by answering the request in his note? Teresa had urged her to go to the tryst, but she was uncertain. He was a married man now, beyond her reach; and propriety forbade their having any further association. She knew his bride and admired Melanie Fleming, although the circumstances of the sudden marriage shocked her. Larena Sandoval was a sensible and cautious young woman. She gave the situation careful thought, then knew what she must do.

  “He looks nervous,” Teresa said to her cousin as they peered through the thick foliage of the garden behind the church.

  “Well, he should be, seeking out his ex-fiancée within a week of his marriage,” Larena said with a touch of impatience. Teresa saw everything through the rosy glow of hopeless romanticism.

  “You seem a bit nervous yourself, cousin. Could it be you love him enough to break your own strict rules just for a kiss?” Teresa's eyes glowed.

  “Wait here and see that no one catches us. All I need is for someone to find out what I've done and tell Mama.” With that, she parted the leafy curtain and slipped quietly into the small bower.

  Quiet as her tread was, Lee sensed her presence at once. He turned and doffed his flat-crowned black hat, smiling sadly at her but making no move to touch her. She looked every inch a lady, dressed in a cool pink silk gown with a matching rose silk parasol and slippers. Her black hair was neatly piled on top of her head beneath a rose bonnet tied with frilly ribbons. Larena was enchantment. “I'm most grateful you came, Larena. I feared you wouldn't.”

  “I wasn't going to, but I reconsidered,” she said in a breathless voice.

  “I owe you an explanation about what's happened, and my personal apology as well. Understandably, Don José didn't want me to talk with you.” He paused, uncertain of how she was going to react to what he would say. “I guess you know my marriage was forced on me against my wishes. I went after Melanie to stop her from risking her life on one of her infernal crusading stories for Clarence Pemberton.”

  “She is a very remarkable woman, Leandro, to do a man's job so well. I admire her work for the Star,” Larena said guilelessly, awaiting his reaction.

  “She's a wild little fool who nearly got us both killed! She even pulled a gun on me. I guess that's when I saw red and lost my temper. I had to literally wrestle her to the ground, and, well, I won't make excuses for myself or offend your sensibilities by describing the rest. It's enough to say that we were both guilty. When her father and Jim found us, they forced the marriage issue. She didn't want it any more than I did.

  “Larena, nothing happened out there on that hillside and nothing's happened since. We have an agreement. It will be perfectly legal and moral for us to have the marriage annulled within a year. I want to marry you—that is, if you'll have the patience to wait for me and be willing to endure the scandal of marrying a man with such a reputation.” His face was grave yet beguiling at the same time as he stretched out his hand and enveloped hers gently.

  How could Melanie Fleming resist him? Blessed Virgin, I find it nearly impossible, and I'm not living under the same roof! Larena looked up into his face, framing her reply very carefully. “You said nothing happened out on that hillside, Leandro. Yet very obviously something did, else my cousin and your wife's father would not have felt so strongly about the matter.”

  “Larena, we exchanged a few kisses and—yes, I did have her blouse opened; but that's as far as things went,” he said, hating the turn the discussion was taking. A gently reared lady like Larena would certainly be appalled by the animal passions that had flamed between him and Melanie.

  She fixed her liquid brown eyes squarely on his face. “And if no one had interrupted you, would that have been ‘as far as things went’?”

  He dropped her hands and turned away to pace back and forth, making an anguished shrug. “I don't know. I honestly don't know. Larena, what goes on between a man and a woman like Melanie isn't anything a lady like you should know about.”

  She arched one delicate black brow. “Really? You make it sound as if she were one of the residents of those houses on Soledad Street. All this time, I've heard she comes from a good family and was university educated in Boston.”

  Lee felt himself trapped. He couldn't give out the secret of Melanie's birth and upbringing prior to her coming to Texas. How to make Larena understand? “Yes, she's educated—too educated, filled with nonsense about women's suffrage. That's why she refused to quit working even after we were married.”

  “But I assumed she kept her job precisely because this wasn't a real marriage,” Larena interjected, feigning bewilderment.

  “She'd keep her job if she were eight months pregnant,” he blurted out. Then, mortified at making such an indelicate statement in front of a maiden, he began to apologize.

  Larena smiled shyly and waved off his attempts to speak, saying, “Your friend Charlee Slade, as I recall, used to ride astride to town when she was quite obviously with child. It seems to me that you and Cousin Jim have always admired her.”

  “Charlee's...Charlee,” he replied weakly. “Jim should control her more. I've always told him that.”

  “Yet you do see how well-suited they are, don't you?” she asked earnestly.

  “Yes,” he admitted grudgingly. “Larena, what are you trying to tell me?” Now, it was his turn to stare into her eyes, demanding a straight answer. “Don't you want to wait for me? Won't you marry me if I get an annulment?”

  “I don't think an annulment would be a wise idea…or perhaps even possible in another year,” she replied carefully, her hea
rt still a bit tender, rebelling over what she was about to say.

  He lifted one arched brow sardonically now. “Perhaps you'd care to explain that?”

  “You're being obtuse, Leandro, and that's not like you,” Larena said impatiently. “There's something between you and Melanie—some very strong attraction that neither of you can deny. The incident on the hillside certainly proves that! But it's more than just a physical attraction, I think. She's bold and bright, educated and outspoken. She's seen the world, Leandro—the whole world outside my small one here in San Antonio. So have you.”

  “Yes, I've seen it; but there's much I didn't like about it, that's why I came home,” he replied darkly.

  “Still, for all you've endured, you've survived, Leandro; and so has your wife. She can match your fire and your intellect. I—I could do neither. You'd grow bored with me and I...I fear I'd grow frightened of your passions and ambitions.” She faced him squarely, trying to hide her pain beneath a facade of reasonableness.

  “Tell me you don't love me, Larena,” he commanded softly.

  “Tell me you feel no passion for your wife,” she countered.

  * * * *

  On the long ride home, Lee mulled over Larena's words. The things Charlee had said to him returned to haunt him, as well. He reassured himself Larena and Dulcia were not alike. Certainly, he did not relish a return to the childish pouting and frigid timidity Dulcia had exhibited during the brief course of their marriage. But they had both been so young then, he excused. Larena would never shrink from him—or bore him. And he knew he didn't want a wife who challenged his every male prerogative the way Melanie surely would. Let Jim Slade and Rafe Fleming put up with that insanity!

  “No, I want a woman who knows her place—gracious, genteel, patient, and loving, someone to raise my children and make a home for us—not some hoyden in riding skirts out chasing renegades!” He shouted the words to Sangre, kicking the stallion into a gallop for the ranch.