He’d sent a telegram yesterday letting her know he would be arriving late tonight and she wanted to be prepared. That meant getting Lola occupied with another task and out of the way for a while.
In the mirror’s image, Elena watched her young lover dress. Perhaps Lola might entertain customers tonight. It would teach her well to learn how to earn her keep for a change.
Elena daubed her fingertip into the pot of lip rouge and applied it, then blotted her lips on a handkerchief. Antonio detested lip color, but it matched her new red lingerie.
“Make certain you take everything you will need, querida,” she called to Lola. Elena had allowed Lola to move some of her clothes and personal possessions into her boudoir. She’d discovered it much easier to move her into her quarters than to send for her each time she needed her company.
“I would stay with you and Whitehorse if you’d allow it,” Lola replied with a wicked smile. “Together we might show him an excellent time.”
Fire shot through Elena. She met Lola’s steady gaze in the reflection, then turned on the dressing stool to face her. “I do not share him.”
“Does he know that you and I are lovers?”
Elena’s gaze dropped to Lola’s bare breasts, then lower to the soft vee of brown hair at the apex of her thighs. Moisture pooled between her own legs as she thought of their afternoon together. She squirmed a bit on the stool, her breasts suddenly heavy and aching.
“Come back to bed, Elena,” Lola said, offering her hand. “There is still time before he arrives.”
No, there was no time. She must prepare for Antonio and make herself beautiful. “No. ” Elena turned back to the mirror and touched up the threads of silver at her temples with a kohl pencil, ignoring Lola’s offer. She studied her appearance. Yes. So young and vital—the same as she had been at fifteen.
A knock at the door jolted her from reverie. Elena blew out an exasperated breath and whisked to the door where Molly stood, her eyes wide and frightened.
“There’s a man who wants to speak to you, Miss Costanza.”
“What man?” she snapped. “Do you not see that I am preparing for company?”
Molly visibly shuddered. “He says his name is Jones. William Jones.”
Oh, what a stupid girl. Elena knew no one named William Jones. It sounded like an alias anyway. The last thing she needed was trouble. “Get rid of him.”
“I tried, but...”
“But what?” She had no patience for Molly’s silly games.
“I told him you were busy but he keeps hanging around, asking for you.”
Elena whisked back to her dressing table to check her hair. “What does this man wish to speak to me about anyway?”
“Halle—only he says her name is Hope and that he’s her uncle.”
The bottom fell out of Elena’s stomach. Her uncle? At first she feared he might be Franklin Cole. He too, claimed the red haired girl was a dead ringer for his missing niece. Yet, it couldn’t be. Molly said the man’s name was William something or other. But what were the chances someone else would step forward to claim the girl in such a manner? “Tell me more.”
“He said he has money, a lot of it. That he wants to thank you properly for lettin’ her stay here a while.”
Elena’s heart fluttered in her chest. She doubted this man was Halle’s uncle, most likely another opportunist who’d seen the reward poster and wished to collect. A shudder rippled through her and she closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness swept her. She prayed it wasn’t Franklin Cole. “Tell me, what does this man look like?”
“He’s an old man. Hunched over. Wears an eye patch and walks with a cane.”
Relief flooded her senses. Dios! It was not Franklin. Her mind raced with ideas. He was an old man. Perhaps she could divest the feeble fool of his cash in other ways. “Lola, leave us.” She dismissed her lover with a wave of the hand.
The scantily clad Lola brushed past Elena, then returned to give her a quick peck on the lips. She slipped her arms around her.
“None of that now.” Elena smoothed her hand up and down Lola’s back. “It is just for one night.”
“I will miss you, Elena.”
Annoyed by Lola’s brazen display before Molly, Elena peeled her lover’s arms from her and gave her a stern look. “Go.” With a huff, Lola turned on her heel and left. Elena grasped Molly by the hand and yanked her into the room. “What more did this man tell you?”
Molly trembled, hesitating.
“What is wrong with you, pendeja? You are shaking.” Elena smacked Molly’s cheek lightly, then grasped her by the shoulders and gave her a sobering shake. “Stop it, now or I will beat you with a whip. You have disturbed me in my private quarters. Tell me what is so important.”
Molly nodded. “Yes ma’am. The man told me he’ll pay you just to talk to him.”
Elena scoffed. “Pay to talk?” Her eyes narrowed on Molly. She was fidgeting with the lace on her dress’ pockets. There was more she hadn’t told her. “Talk about what?”
“About Halle. Says he’s got fifty dollars if you’ll talk to him, then he’ll pay you five hundred dollars if you hand her over to him.”
Elena almost swooned. She’d already promised the girl to Franklin to get him off her back and hopefully, out of her life again. “Halle is not here. Why would he think such?”
Elena’s mind went into a whirl. Five hundred dollars. What man had five hundred dollars to waste on a stupid girl? A rich one. Perhaps he had more money he might like to part with.
She mentally calculated the time frame of Antonio’s arrival. It was still early enough. Perhaps she should find out more about this old gringo. She would pour him a drink, perhaps offer to strip for him. From the physical state Molly described, she doubted the older man would be able to get hard. Even if he could perform, how much trouble could he be? Besides, she had her eye on a lovely diamond necklace in the new French catalogue.
“Give me a few minutes and send him up. Have Ben pat him down to make certain he is unarmed.”
With a nod, Molly left on swift feet.
Elena quickly changed out of the special red peignoir and satin robe she’d put on for Antonio, and donned a stunning royal blue one with a low cut bodice and a long, revealing slit at the knees. The peignoir wasn’t as expensive—a modest purchase from New York—but it would do for this occasion. She hoped she didn’t give the old codger a heart attack before she got his money.
She smiled as she smoothed her hands over the tight-fitting bodice, adjusting it lower in front to reveal her lovely cleavage. In the full length mirror’s reflection, she marveled at the unblemished texture of her skin, the tautness of her throat and jaw line, her voluptuous breasts and slender waist. Yes, she was still youthful and desirable, the most beautiful woman in the New Mexico Territory. She smiled. For five hundred dollars she could make the stupid old man forget all about that little red-haired witch.
Of course, she would have to deal with Franklin eventually. She would tell him the girl had died. Yes, that might work. Tomorrow she’d ask Pedro to dig a grave on the outskirts of town and erect a wooden cross. They’d bury the entrails of last week’s slaughtered pig that remained rotting in the back alley, along with the contents of a few chamber pots into the hole. The grave would smell so foul that no one would dare attempt to dig it up.
Humming a happy tune, she spritzed herself from head to toe with a rose-scented water, plumped the bed pillows and smoothed the satin quilt, then let a cigarette and took a seat at her writing desk. At the knock on the door she posed on the edge of her chair, the slit in the blue peignoir falling open to reveal her shapely leg past the knee. With a toss of her head, she flipped the loose, dark curls away from her face and pinched her cheeks for a spot of color.
“Enter.”
The door slowly opened and a hunched man tottered inside, his cane tapping on the wooden floor. Keeping his head down, he closed the door behind him quietly. He was not at all what she expected. His
duster was coated with a film of red dust. Odd that an old man whose riding days should be long gone would wear a duster. But when he removed his hat and set it in the chair by the door, a chill skittered up her spine. His hair was dark with not a speck of gray.
He rose to his full height. A sinister black patch covered his right eye. He looked vaguely familiar. She immediately rose from the chair, eyeing him intently. This was no old man.
“Hello Elena.” He removed the patch, revealing a healthy eye, as well as his identity. “Been a long time.”
Elena slid back into the chair to avoid collapsing on the floor. Her pulse pounded out a near-deafening tempo in her ears as the room threatened to slip out from beneath her feet. Fear knotted her throat, now aching and dry.
“You wrote that you would never come here!” she managed with much difficulty. “We had an agreement, Franklin.”
He chuckled as he walked about the room, perusing the paintings on the walls. “I reckon we did have an agreement Elena, but you said you would deliver the girl. You never did. It’s been a few months so I figure I needed to pay a visit in person and check on your progress.”
“She is not here. She has been gone a long time.” She almost told him the girl had died, but feared he would demand to see a grave site.
He turned and gave her a look that spelled trouble. “I know she ain’t here. She’s with your old lover, Whitehorse, isn’t she?”
Fire shot through Elena’s veins. The bastard always knew how to make her blood boil! And now he had come to her house, despite the fact he promised in his letters he would never. She had to get rid of him before Antonio arrived.
He grinned as he removed his gloves. “Come on darlin’. Ain’t ya gonna properly welcome me to Albuquerque? How’s about a good long kiss for starters?”
She suddenly felt ill, as if she might swoon. “You said I was free, that you would never bother me again if I did this one thing for you.”
He shook his head. “That was before you got caught up in my niece’s little plot to blackmail me.”
Her breath caught. Blackmail plot? What was he suggesting? Surely Franklin did not think she would participate in such a foolish venture? “I know nothing of what you’re speaking about.” It was true.
“Don’t you? I figured it out. You was in on it, too. You’re greedy like that, Elena. Always were.”
“No. You are mistaken. I know nothing of any blackmail plot.”
“All right, Elena. You want to play games, but I’m a straight shooter. Let me get right to the point. Don’t matter whether you was in on her schemin’ or not. I know my niece has been here as recent as a few months ago, that she was here when you answered my first letter. You said she wasn’t here at all, that she had run away. Then the letters stopped. Guess you figured I’d just go away if you didn’t answer, didn’t you?”
Elena shook her head vehemently. “No. I was not avoiding you. I swear it.”
Cole shook his head. “You lied to me then, Elena, and you’re lyin’ to me now.”
Elena swallowed down the bile that rose up in her throat. Since Halle left—the only person in the house who could read or write—she’d not been able to send letters nor read his. “No, I did not lie, Franklin. This is all a misunderstanding.”
He moved toward her and she shrunk back, silently praying he would not strike her.
“I’ve been trackin’ her a few months now, her and that Indian outlaw. So has the U.S. cavalry, which you’d know if somebody had been readin’ you the newspapers.”
She drew in a deep, steadying breath. She could not read or write and Franklin knew how that humiliated her. In the past, he often belittled her for her illiteracy. “Well, I cannot change anything. She is not here as you can see.”
He nodded. “I done as much as poked around and found it out, but I also figured you might know where Whitehorse had taken her.”
She blinked. “I know nothing.” Actually she did have an inkling of where Antonio might be hiding. She had recently heard rumors that small groups of Navajo were migrating northward into the Chuska mountains. Since Chief Manuelito had reportedly relocated his band there, it would not surprise her if Antonio had followed his uncle.
Cole untied his sweat soaked neckerchief and laid it across the back of a chair. “I saw Whitehorse’s sketch on all them wanted posters. The government’s offering a sizeable reward, dead or alive. Surprised you ain’t turned him in yourself. You expectin’ him back ‘round here anytime soon?”
Elena swallowed hard as he removed his duster and laid it on the chair by the door. How did this Franklin know Antonio visited occasionally? Did he know that he was scheduled to arrive tonight? “I do not know when or if he will return.” She prayed that one of her ladies hadn’t already tipped him off.
His eyes roamed over her hungrily, sending an icy shiver up her spine. She knew that feral look, remembered it from the first time she gave herself to him. At fifteen, she ran away from the De los Santos ranch with a much younger, handsomer Franklin, a man with eyes as blue as a winter sky. He was to have been her salvation from her hellish life as the daughter of a peasant washer woman for the wealthy De los Santos family. Instead, he had been her Hell.
“I’ll be honest with you, Elena.” Franklin took an arrogant stance, feet set wide apart. “I’d like to turn in Whitehorse for the reward, but I’m sure you’d be agreeable to making a special deal with me right here and now in exchange for my remainin’ silent about your involvement in aiding a fugitive.”
Elena’s flesh prickled as her stomach twisted into a knot. She knew of Frank Cole’s deals all too well and wanted no part of them despite the fact he knew of her treachery. Still, she would not lose everything she had built over the years, this house and her reputation as madam of the finest bordello in the Territory. Hand trembling, she crushed out her cigarette in the tray and drew a deep, calming breath as she assembled her thoughts. “What type of deal do you propose?”
“I’ll pay you five hundred dollars for the girl plus, maybe you and me can work out a little something extra today in exchange for me not killing Whitehorse and claiming the reward on him.”
Elena clutched the collar of her robe. Dios! What was he suggesting? A cut of her business?
His gaze pinned her. “Word on the street is Whitehorse is coming here tonight, sugar.” He chuckled. “I’m sure if I get to him first, I can easily find out where he’s hidin’ my niece. You know I’m good at extractin’ the truth out of folks. I’ll get him to talk one way or the other—if I have to start hackin’ off limbs…or his pecker.”
Elena swallowed hard. She certainly did know of Franklin’s cruelty and ruthlessness. She’d watched him cut off a man’s fingers once simply because he didn’t have the two dollars to pay for one of the whores in their El Paso establishment. She’d also witnessed abuses he perpetrated on the women who worked for him when he suspected they were holding out pay. Some were disfigured so badly they could never work in other houses. She had no other choice but to surrender the girl in exchange for Antonio’s life being spared. Now she only had to find her.
“You do not need to pay me for the girl. You may take her once I have located her. She is yours, but only in exchange for Antonio’s freedom, and your silence about my involvement with h.”
He laughed. “Now, Elena, darlin’, I don’t think that’s much of a good deal for me. You see, I came here all prepared to hand you cash for that little gal. It ain’t like I’m hurtin’ for money. After all, it’s only right that you should be paid for the meals and her room and board during her stay. As for Whitehorse—” Franklin gave her a once over that sent shivers skittering up her spine again, “Let’s just say that I’m curious to know how far you’ll go to save his worthless life. I want to spend the afternoon with you Elena—in your bed.”
Elena lifted her chin a notch. What a crude and casual bastard he had always been. He presumed much now. She was not that doe-eyed fifteen year old girl who’d run away with him.
She was now Madam Elena Costanza, the most beautiful woman in the Territory. She no longer slept with common men like Franklin Cole. True, he might have money in his pocket now, but she suspected it was only temporary. Men like Franklin drifted through life, stealing and lying and murdering. They never amounted to much of anything. From the way he was dressed, he still hadn’t.
“My body is not free, Franklin. You cannot afford my price.”
He laughed, gave her a penetrating once over that made her stomach clench.
“And you, Elena, cannot afford the price of not bargaining with me for Whitehorse’s life. You want me to tell the government of your involvement with the outlaw and those savages? You’ll dangle right alongside him on the gallows until your body swells up in the sun and buzzards pick at your green, rotting flesh. Take it or leave it, you uppity bitch.”
Rage shot through her. The bastard! Nothing had changed between them. He was still the abuser. But what choice did she have? Franklin knew of Antonio’s impending arrival. If she did not comply, he would kill Antonio for the reward and tell the government she’d been aiding and abetting a fugitive. They would close the gentlemen’s parlor and at the very least lock her in prison for aiding Indians these past months. And as Franklin suggested, she might even hang for her crimes!
She had no choice but to play one final hand with Cole. Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of what she was about to say, and do. “If I agree to your terms, I must have your word you will do Antonio no harm.”
“You have my word.”
His word meant nothing. Still, she had no leverage—no choice except to play along. She shuddered, recalling that he was never a kind lover. She drew a deep, steadying breath and prayed silently he would not leave marks on her lovely skin.
He uncuffed his shirt sleeves, then began unbuttoning his shirt with vigor.
His jaw was set firm, his eyes unwavering. “Don’t you worry, Elena. No harm will come to Whitehorse.”
Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance) Page 31