Bittner, Rosanne (40 page)

Cordera
paced again, then walked back to the sofa and sat down. He opened a gold
container of cigars and handed one to John. "Sit back down and smoke with
me," he said. "Tell me your plan."

John
smelled victory. He came around to the sofa and sat down, taking the cigar and
letting Cordera light it for him with one of several long matches lying on the
marble table.
"Gracias."
He puffed on the cigar for a moment.
"There is a man who works for Caldwell. I believe he is a ringleader in
the rustling," he told Cordera then, as the man lit his own cigar.
"His name is Casey Dunlap."

Cordero
slowly nodded. "Ah, yes, Señor Dunlap. I know him well, but I do not much
like him. He sells me the cattle, but I can see in his eyes that he does not
like Mexicans. You,
señor,
have respect for us. I can tell, even though
you are obviously Indian. Mexicans and American Indians do not get along so
well, you know."

John
grinned. "Well, I'm not a
Texas
Indian. I'm not Apache or Comanche.
Maybe that helps."

Both
men laughed lightly. "So,
señor,
I am listening. What is it you
would have me do?"

John
could already see Dunlap and Caldwell standing on a hanging scaffold. He could
not keep the fires of victory from burning through his gaze as he answered
Cordera. "All you have to do is make the same plans with Caldwell you
always make, meet him or Dunlap or whoever it is you meet, except that Texas
Rangers will be waiting with you. The most important thing is something in
writing. Do you have anything like that?"

Cordera
hesitated. "I hope this is not a trick,
señor.
I am not accustomed
to trusting Americans."

"Nor
am I accustomed to trusting Mexicans. But I am trusting you, Don
Emiliano."

Cordera
studied John's eyes intently. "I have a letter, informing me the cattle I
ordered for this spring will be delivered in two more weeks, at a canyon on the
northern end of the Conchos River. It is signed by Señor Caldwell."

John
could not help smiling as he breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Give me that
letter. It's the best piece of proof we could have. Once we capture the men and
the stolen cattle, there will be no way out for Caldwell." He stood up,
almost wanting to shout with joy. Soon! Soon he could go home to Tess. He could
almost feel her in his arms.

This
was unlike any pain Tess had ever known. Right now she hated this baby for what
it was doing to her, hated Chino for causing this. She even hated John, for not
being with her. He'd promised to come back before the baby was born, but the
baby was coming early. That made matters even worse. Even at full term, others
would have thought the child was coming early.

The
gossip would be heavy, but somehow she and John would get through it. The
trouble was, she had to get over being angry with John, and she had to learn to
love this baby.

She
gripped the rails at the head of the bed, unable to keep from crying out with
another gripping pain. It tore through her insides like witch's claws, a pain
so intense and so deep that it terrified her. She'd always known childbirth was
painful, but she had not expected this. The worst part was that Dr. Sanders
could not be here. He was thirty miles away taking care of some kind of
emergency. His wife had come in his place. Mary had assisted her husband with
other births, and she'd assured Tess she knew what to do, but she was young and
had never had a child of her own yet. How could she understand this? Louise
Jeffers had agreed to help. Tess had wanted Jenny there, but Louise and Mary
had insisted she was not needed. They didn't understand that she
was
needed,
not for physical help, but a kind of moral support only Jenny could give her,
something these women did not understand.

"How
much longer?" she groaned, lying in a bath of sweat. It was early April,
and the weather was unusually hot.

"It's
hard to say, dear," Mary told her. "I don't think things are quite
ready, but I can tell the baby is properly positioned. The first one always
takes longer, but I assure you, this should be an uncomplicated birth. I just
hope the baby will be all right, since it's coming rather early."

"Has...
to be," Tess moaned. "John... so wants it."

But
did
she
want it? This baby had done nothing but totally alter her life
and make her fat and sick and uncomfortable, and now it was causing her ungodly
pain. Would it look like Chino? Would it grow up to be a horrible person like
Chino?

What
a foolish thought. It would be raised in a loving home, with a man who planned
to be the best father he could be. But would he—or she—know a mother's love? Up
to now she'd been determined to love the baby fully, had told herself she must
not blame the child for its beginnings. She'd promised John she would love it,
but John wasn't here to see what she was going through. How could you love
something that brought this much pain, especially when you didn't want it in
the first place? The only good thing this baby had brought her was a man she'd
learned to love more than she'd ever thought possible. But the fact remained,
that man was not this baby's father. It was Chino, the hated Chino. She could
see him raping her,
feel
him raping her. It had been vicious and
painful, and now the product of that rape was bringing more pain.

She
screamed when the agony grew even deeper this time. She began to lose touch
with reality, hardly aware of where she was or with whom. This had been going
on for hours, endless hours.

Was
that Jenny hovering over her? "How much... longer?" she screamed.
"Make it come! Make it come!"

"We
can't force it to come," someone told her. "It has to happen
naturally, Tess."

"Noooo.
No more!" Tess curled up on her side. "Get John. What if he dies,
Jenny? What if Casey Dunlap... kills him?"

Louise
frowned, looking at Mary. What was she talking about? "Casey Dunlap?"

"He...
shot him. I... heard. Why did John... have to go after him? He'll... get
killed. I should have told. He didn't... have to go after them, Jenny."

"What
on earth is she talking about?" Mary asked Louise.

"I
don't know." Louise leaned closer. "What could you have told,
Tess?"

Tess
cried out with another pain. They were much closer together now, seemingly
endless. When would it stop? She felt engulfed in terror, bathed in agony.
John. Where was John? He should be here. She hated him for not being here.
"John," she moaned. "Get John. He'll... never catch them. Nobody
knows Caldwell... is a cattle thief. I... heard. I heard. I can tell them
the... truth. You tell them, Jenny. Go to... the Army. Tell them... what I
know. I don't want John to die."

"She's
delirious," Mary commented.

"Apparently,"
Louise returned, wondering at the strange comments.
Was
she delirious?
Where was John Hawkins? What had been so important that it had taken him away
so long he couldn't be with his wife now when she was having their baby? She
looked at Mary. "What do you suppose she means by her comments about
Harriet's husband? And Casey Dunlap? Isn't he Jim Caldwell's top man?"

"Yes."
Mary leaned over Tess. "What do you want Jenny to tell the Army, Tess?
What has Mr. Caldwell done?"

Tess
screamed with the black pain, lost in it, hating it and everyone who had caused
it. She hated Jim Caldwell, too, and Casey Dunlap. It was their fault John
couldn't be here.

"Thieves,"
she groaned. "Rustlers. I know."

Mary's
eyes widened when she looked at Louise. "What in God's name is she
saying?"

Louise
shook her head. "I think you're right. I think she's delirious." She
checked Tess. "The baby is coming." She began ordering Tess to push
now, to take deep breaths and push. She looked over at Mary as Tess screamed
and strained and cried. "Don't say anything about what you heard, Mary.
Let me handle this."

"How?
What will you do?"

"I'm
not sure. I'd better talk to Harriet. Just don't say one word to any one, not
even your husband. Promise me that. She's probably just hallucinating."

Mary
nodded. "I promise."

"Bring
the hot water and some more clean towels," Louise said.

Mary
left the room, and Louise leaned over Tess. "What is it you know, Tess
Hawkins?" she asked softly. None of it made sense, but she probably owed it
to Harriet, as a friend, to tell her what Tess had said in her delirium. It was
true she could be fantasizing, but pain sometimes had a way of forcing people
to spill the truth. What
was
the truth? Surely it wasn't what Tess had
just said about Jim Caldwell!

Things
became frantic then as the baby suddenly came very fast. There was no more time
to wonder about what Tess had said. There was only time for pushing and pulling
and forcing out afterbirth, cleaning membrane away from the baby's face and
mouth, forcing out that first cry. It was a boy, a very strong, healthy,
full-term boy. It didn't seem possible this could be John Hawkins's baby, but
then Tess
had
admitted she'd lain in sin with the man after her
abduction, and there was no mistaking the child had Indian blood. He had a full
shock of black hair, and his skin was a reddish brown color. His eyes remained
closed, but there was no doubt they would be black, too.

Louise
cleaned up Tess while Mary worked to bathe and wrap the furiously screaming
baby.

"My
gosh, he's strong," Mary commented. The baby kicked and squalled, making
little fists with his tiny hands, stiffening against every move Mary made to
get a diaper on him and a blanket around him. She walked with him while Louise
finished with Tess, hoping the child would quiet down once he was in his
mother's arms. Finally a still-dazed Tess was ready, and Mary leaned over her.
"Here is your son, Tess. He's beautiful and healthy. You should be very
proud, as I am sure your husband will be when he sees him." She laid the
baby into the crook of Tess's arm.

Tess
was only vaguely aware at first, wondered where the crying came from. She soon
realized it was right beside her. A baby.
Her
baby!
She struggled
to get back to reality, turned to look at the tiny bit of life that lay beside
her... tiny... yet plenty big for a newborn. He was crying and sucking at his
fist.

"He's
hungry," Mary said. "Let me help you feed him. It takes a little
practice at first. Do you feel up to it?"

Up
to it? This bastard child of Chino's wanted to feed at her breast! Oh, God, she
had no feelings for him! God forgive her! John had said that once the baby fed
at her breast, she would love him. She
had
to love him! She'd promised
John. But where
was
John? What if he got himself killed and never came
back? How could she love this child then?

Louise
propped some pillows behind her and Mary helped her open her gown, washed her
breast and gently massaged it, helped her position the baby to find his mark.
It hurt at first. Of course it hurt. This was
Chino's
child! Oh, God,
she didn't want it! She didn't....

The
pain was gone now, but the sudden pull at her breast had brought her further
into reality. She looked down at the perfectly formed bit of life feeding at
her breast. His little fist curled up against the white of her skin. Dark... so
dark. Like John. Yes, he
could
be John's, couldn't he? Somehow she had
to learn to love this baby. Maybe... maybe it was possible. But she couldn't do
it alone. She needed John.

"Dear
God, bring him home," she whispered.

Tess
sat down wearily in the rocker presented to her by Louise and Rachael and the
other members of the quilting club. Louise's husband, who had built Tess's
little house, had made the rocker by hand, as well as the lovely cradle in
which her new son now slept. The gifts had been a pleasant surprise, as had the
food some of the women had sent over. Louise and Mary had taken turns the first
few days helping care for the baby until Tess was well enough to do it herself.
She appreciated the help, not just because the birth had been difficult and had
left her weak, but because she had so much to learn about caring for a baby. A
job made harder by her mixed emotions over the baby.