A Lady Bought with Rifles (29 page)

“Why should I?”

He was playing with me. Very well. “Please, Court,” I said tiredly. “Please do this for me. I'll be forever grateful.”

“Will you?”

He let one hand drop from my shoulder to my breast, cupped it so that when he bent his head, he could tease the nipple with his tongue. I stiffened with a little cry. He raised his face slightly; a strange glow burned deep in those golden eyes so close to mine. I almost screamed as he buried his head between my breasts, devoured my throat and shoulders with hungry questing lips till at last he stopped, shaking his head as if he himself were dazed.

“Miranda, you're aware. And you're mine. Now I can—”

He broke off with a tremulous laugh, rising and pacing as if to keep his energy in check. “All right, my love. If what you want for your wedding gift is a gang of convict Yaquis, I'll see what can be done. Dr. Trent might go down, posing as a landowner willing to pay a premium for selected slaves. He may have to buy a few extra in case anyone notices he's taking Yaquis who know each other.”

“But how will they get back here?”

“That's their problem. Trent will give them clothes and some food and money, but if they're caught wandering about without passports, they'll be sent straight back to the plantation. Their best bet is to hide out in the countryside and work their way back slowly.”

“It sounds terribly dangerous.”

“Dangerous!” Court burst into astonished laughter. “To
be
a Yaqui is dangerous. And for condemned rebels—” His broad shoulders moved in a careless shrug. “They'll have a chance, Miranda. It's more than they could dream of.”

He had yielded with surprisingly good grace, but I sensed that pushing him could reverse his generous mood. “Could we talk to Dr. Trent this evening? Maybe he could leave tomorrow. Truly, Court, I'm very eager.”

“Not as eager as I, love.”

His gaze embraced me and I shrank inside as he started to sit by me. The time would come when he'd make love to me, when he'd learn he wasn't my first man. But I hoped to postpone that moment as long as I could, hoped above all that Dr. Trent would be irrevocably gone on his errand. Court wouldn't dare send a wire about something that might get him in trouble with the government. And it would be a solace, when Court vented his outrage on me, to know that at least I'd given a few brave men some chance for their lives.

There were voices approaching and I peered into the soft twilight that had just taken the gold sheen off the mountain. “Isn't that Dr. Trent?”

Court grumbled under his breath, kissed the palm of my hand slowly before he went to welcome the men coming up the walk. “Major Ruiz! Doctor. Come have a drink and see how well my wife is looking.”

“Mustn't overdo, child,” muttered the doctor, taking both my hands and patting them in his sweet, rather fuddled way. “Lots of nice broth and chicken, that'll bring back your strength. You've got to be healthy to hold your own with the beef one gets down here.” He chuckled at his joke while Ruiz stepped forward.

If Ruiz was remembering, as I was, how he'd held me as I struggled to run after Cruz when soldiers dragged him from my pretended sickbed, he gave no sign. His bow was punctilious, his clipped moustache and lips barely touched my hand.

“What a joy to find you so much better, señora. There has been much concern, I assure you, even from a toughened old soldier like myself.”

I looked through his smile, his hard-planed face, and saw Cruz, Cruz burning. Rage and grief swelled in my throat.

“My wife is still not quite herself,” explained Court. “But with the care I intend to give her, I'm sure she'll soon be in glorious health. Won't you drink to that, gentlemen, before she retires?”

“Pleasure!” said Dr. Trent. “Pleasure, sir!”

“Alas, I must still check my sentries,” regretted Ruiz. “But I'll indulge in one glass of wine to salute your so exquisite wife.”

Court sent Ruiz a quizzical look, but if he recognized some hint of masculine challenge it seemed to please him. Stepping inside, he returned in a moment with a bottle of whiskey, glasses, and a decanter of water.

A little water and a lot of whiskey went into the doctor's drink. Then Court filled my glass and his with wine again, filled the major's, and handed it to him.

“Salud!”
said the soldier, lifting his goblet. “Your good health, señora! Your beauty and grace, may they comfort us in this desert as surely as a spring of water.”

The doctor and Court drank, but Court's eyes stayed on Ruiz. “In the desert, Major, a spring is coveted. Men do not wish only to admire it. They must drink.”

Ruiz raised a dark eyebrow. His uniform fitted perfectly, tailored in some city to flatter his rawhide lean body, hard-muscled thighs, and shoulders. If Court was a lion, Ruiz was a hawk. In either case, I was prey, no less afraid of beak and talons than of claws and teeth.

“In the desert, señor, a wise man does not deny a taste of water to the equally strong or he may find himself dispossessed.”

“There is no equal strength once battle is joined,” said Court. “As a soldier, you of all men know that. In every contest, there is finally a winner.”

“Who may not long survive his hurts.”

Court laughed. “But a winner, nonetheless. Tell us, Major, how long do you expect to be on duty here?”

Ruiz shrugged and sighed. “Who knows? Governor Yzábal is on a Yaqui hunt this fall. He seems set on killing all those he can't ship off to the henequen plantations, except, of course, for those he works on his haciendas. They might be better off in Yucatán. It is said that at his hacienda of La Europa he uses instruments of torture in addition to the ordinary beatings and punishments.”

“Major,” said Court with a protective glance at me. “My wife.”

And indeed I was feeling sick. When the governor of Sonora was a monster supported by the federal government and the army, what chance did the Yaquis have? God, let the revolution come and quickly, even if it swept away my own class.

“If I could watch my friend burn alive,” I said, staring with hatred into the major's imperturbable eyes, “I suppose I can hear about other barbarities.”

“A tender heart is glory in a woman,” returned the major so glibly that I would have liked to tear out his tongue. “It is a flaw in soldiers. You do not understand those
indios
, señora. They revolted against the Jesuits and Spain, then after Mexico became independent of Spain, they refused to pay taxes or allow colonization of their lands. They could get away with such defiance as long as Mexico was fighting foreign powers or trying to develop a strong central government. The state of Sonora has been especially chaotic and the Yaquis have contributed to that by insisting on remaining a state within a state.”

“And what would be so wrong with that?” I demanded. “They are excellent workers and farmers. If they were left alone, there would be no trouble.”

“Mexico cannot tolerate their arrogance or claim to so much rich farmland. If they would submit peacefully, they could work their lands, señora.”

“As serfs? Colonists in their own country?”

“My love,” interposed Court, hand closing over mine. “You will develop a fever. Besides, we must not keep the major from his duties.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Ruiz said, nodding. As he slowly finished his wine, his eyes stayed on me and he smiled as if he knew some secret. “Thank you, señor and señora, for your most gracious hospitality.” He rose to his feet. “I look forward to entertaining you, though a soldier's quarters lack refinement.”

“They should be comfortable,” said Court dryly, “since you have moved into the former assistant superintendent's house.”

“Señor, I am not complaining!” Ruiz laughed. “After a tent, this is luxury. I thought only of your lady.”

“That is kind of you but completely unnecessary, Major. You may be sure that I will have the utmost care for my wife's surroundings. She will not be exposed to any that I consider dangerous.”

“That is wise of you,” murmured Ruiz. “Doctor, señora, until we meet again.” Inclining his dark head, he let his smile end on me and turned through the arch to the walk.

“Fancies himself,” growled Court, settling back and taking the doctor's emptied glass. “When things quiet down a bit, I'll see if I can't get him transferred. If we must have soldiers at the mine, I don't want their commander after my wife.”

“Machismo, my boy, pure machismo,” soothed Trent. “If he ignored Miranda, now there would be your insult.” He cleared his throat and looked hopefully at his glass.

“Doctor,” said Court abruptly, “would you undertake an errand of mercy?”

“A what?” asked the doctor as if he couldn't have heard correctly.

Court grinned. “Oh, not for me! But Miranda has a softness for Yaquis because of her pet cripple. And it seems that brigand Lío did his best to protect her—after he kidnapped her. She'd like to buy him and the survivors of his band out of the plantations. Would you try to do this?”

The doctor blinked. His red-veined eyes shifted unhappily from me to the whiskey and I knew he was thinking of all the reasons why he preferred to stay at Mina Rara.

“Please,” I begged, leaning forward and touching his hand. “Please, Doctor, won't you try? I don't think I want to get well if I have to know Lío and the others are being beaten to death.” He watched me from his sad old bleared eyes, and I strengthened my grasp on his sensitive fingers. “It's for Cruz,” I whispered. “And Sewa. All the brave ones who deserve better than being ground into dust.”

And for Trace. My love, my real husband, who died fighting for the Yaquis. Silence hung between us. The doctor's hand seemed lifeless in mine, the skin like a dry husk. Hope died in me.

Despairingly, I started to withdraw my hand. His tightened. “I'll go,” he sighed. “Now give me a drink, in God's name, and let's figure how I'm to do it.”

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath till my lungs filled spasmodically, everything blurred, and I felt myself slipping into soft waves of welcoming darkness.

14

The rich smell of coffee and fresh-baked bread stirred my senses so that I woke hungry for the first time since the battle. Raquel had been standing in my bedroom door. Now she came forward with a tray.

“Here is your breakfast,” she said without looking at me. Her soft mouth curved down and I felt sympathy for her. It must be bitter hard to serve her lover's wife. “If you wish more or require help with dressing, ring the bell.”

Her gaze traveled from my, toes to my head, avoiding my face, and I was glad the coverlet hid my body. It would have been easier had she been like Reina, flamboyantly and crudely jealous, but I guessed that. Raquel really loved Court and was desolate that he preferred someone else. She'd been a convenience, a pretty, useful servant to his body. I doubted he had even thought of her pain. This deepened my anger at him as it heightened my fear.

At the moment, he saw me as his gently reared, much-desired bride, a virgin. Because of his illusion, not because of me as a real person, he was wooing me. But when he was denied the breaking of my seal, his illusion would go, and with it his consideration. Where he tormented Raquel out of insensitivity, he would hurt me with deliberation and calculated spite. He would bring me as low as he had set me high.

“Has Dr. Trent stopped this morning?” I asked.

Raquel paused on her way to the door. “He left for Hermosillo this morning. He has sudden business and will be gone for some weeks.” She added almost hopefully, “You need him?”

“No, thank you.”

She moved lightly into the corridor. I spread honey on a crisp roll and ate, spirits raised by the knowledge that the doctor was gone. It would be impossible for Court to call him back without calling notice to his own complicity in trying to free condemned rebels. And I thought the doctor would avoid or manage to misunderstand any countermanding of his instructions, for it was me he had promised, not Court.

Perhaps Court would be called away, maybe he'd have an accident … That was nonsense. I set my teeth and picked the most severe dress I had, made of cheap cloth from the company store. He'd be back and he would have me.

But let it not be till tonight. Please, let it not be till tonight. If it were in the darkness, it might not seem so real.

It happened at noon. Noon, with the shutters closed and the house quiet after the midday meal. Court had come in from the mine, greeted me where I sat reading one of the books loaned by Dr. Trent, and joined me after washing and changing into clean clothes. We had clear soup, cold chicken, and melon on the veranda, but I could scarcely eat. My nerves were screwing tighter by the moment and every muscle seemed to have gone rigid so that my motions were jerky and awkward.

Court, though, ate with good appetite. In the mine all the debris had been cleared and ore was coming out again. The blast, in fact, had opened a rich vein, so he was expecting increased profits, which he would share in now as my husband. When I thought about it, I knew that Court had made himself a wealthy man. He would enjoy that, but even more the power. It would have helped if I could have believed that was why he married me, but I was sure he loved me in a fiercely possessive way.

No amount of material riches would make up for what he would very shortly feel he'd been robbed of. Strange that should matter more than not having my love. I didn't think Trace would have minded much about my virginity so long as I loved him.

Court had finished his lunch. Small fires seemed, to glow from the back of his eyes as he watched me sip the last wine from my goblet. I hoped frantically he would go back to the mine. Instead, he came around and raised me from the chair.

“Now, my love,” he said, gathering me in his arms. “Now.”