Comanche Moon (24 page)

“He’s managed to gossip a lot, too.” Exasperated, Judith snapped, “You just won’t listen to anything about that savage, will you! Even if it’s the truth. He has done something to you, and I knew it before we were ever rescued.”

“Maybe you’ll recall that
the savage
took us to a fort while you’re at it,” Deborah retorted. “No one had to come after us.”

“He
had
to free us! The Comancheros had seen us, and told the army, and then when that patrol saw us, they knew where we were. Oh, Deborah,” she begged, her eyes anxious, “I know that he . . . he forced you. Don’t feel you must protect him, for God only knows what reason.” Deborah covered her face with one hand. “I don’t know why I feel the way I do,” she said miserably. “Sometimes I think he’s everything people say, but if you talked to him, I mean
really
talked to him, I think you’d feel as I do.

He has been caught up in something he didn’t create and he can’t fix, and he’s just trying to survive.”

“By gunning down men in the middle of the street? He’s no better a white man than he was a Comanche.” Deborah’s head snapped up, and she whispered tautly, “I don’t ever want to hear that again. Perhaps I’m wrong about his reasons, but he’s not as bad as you think. And remember your promise.” An unhappy expression settled on her face, but Judith nodded. “I will. I won’t tell anyone who he is, but I don’t think it matters. He’s bad enough as Zack Banning, killer extraordinaire.”

“Thanks. I feel so much better.” Deborah’s dry tone didn’t escape Judith, and she rose to fling herself on her knees by her cousin’s chair. “I know you hate me for talking so badly to you.” “No, I don’t hate you. I’m confused. And I haven’t seen or heard from him since that first night, so he’s probably forgotten me already.”

“Do you really believe that?” Deborah looked beyond the hacienda to the range of mountains gnawing at the horizon. “I don’t know.”

“I hope he has!” Judith said fiercely. “I hope he goes away and never, never comes back!”

Startled by her vehemence, Deborah asked slowly, “Why do you hate him so?”

“I hate all of them, not just him.” Judith’s fingers dug into the bent wood of Deborah’s chair. Her throat was corded with strain, her voice a hoarse whisper. “They’re savages, all of them. Brutal, torturing fiends. I’ll never forget that old hag and her vicious treatment of me. I’ll never forget—”
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She broke off abruptly, her eyes a wide, glazed blue.

“Judith?” Deborah touched her cheek gently. “Tell me what happened to you. I know that something very bad was done, but I can’t help you unless I know. Won’t you tell me?” For a moment, Judith’s lips trembled. She seemed about to speak, but then paused. “You’ll hate me. It’s so sordid and wicked, and at least you were wanted by—” Breaking off, she shook her head. “No. Nothing happened.

Not like you may think. I told you. They were just mean to me. It was a nightmare, but it’s over now.” She cleared her throat and shrugged. “I’m sorry,” she said calmly. “I just can’t forgive them as easily as you.” Deborah stroked back her soft blond hair. “I’m sorry, too. I keep forgetting how badly they treated you, using you as a slave. You have a right to feel the way you do.” Judith buried her face in the length of the dress Deborah was mending.

Her voice muffled. “I wish I could be like you. You always seem so calm and unruffled. Even when you’re upset. You don’t let anything truly affect you.” Amazed, Deborah said, “You know that’s not true. You were with me the first night I saw him again. I was a bundle of nerves.” Judith lifted her head, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I would have been hysterical. You were so nervous you actually giggled, but other than that, you could have been talking about a bad rainstorm.”

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me,” Deborah said ruefully.

“If there is, it isn’t lack of control.” Judith pushed back a tangle of hair and sat back on her heels. “I think that is what attracts Diamond. Your cool poise.”

“If I throw a temper tantrum or two, do you think he will leave me alone?”

Their good humor restored, the two laughed softly at the mental image of her throwing a tantrum.

When Dexter Diamond came calling that afternoon, Deborah was tempted to do just that.

Chapter 16

Big, blond, boisterous, it was obvious that Dexter Diamond was a man accustomed to getting his own way. He sat with his hat in his hands and his elbows resting on his thighs, gazing at Deborah with narrowed, frustrated eyes. “I came to take you ridin’, Miss Deborah, and that’s what I intend to do,” he said gruffly. “You’re stubborn as a mule, and that’s a fact.” She took another neat stitch in the square of embroidery she’d been working on. “What’s your point?” He growled an oath, and added when she looked up with a frown, “Miss Deborah, it’s a fine day. We don’t get many of those before the heat makes it too hot to get out. I’d like it a lot if you’d go riding with me.” Deborah laid her embroidery down and looked up at him. His rugged face was tight with exasperation when she said, “I understand you have told Don Francisco you intend to marry me.” He flushed and looked away, twirling his hat between his fingers. “Yeah.

Guess I got carried away.”

“I’d say so. Normally, a man asks the lady first.”

“Didn’t figure you’d say yes yet.”

“And did Don Francisco?” Grinning, he shook his head. “No. But that won’t matter none when you agree to it.”

Despite his outward hearty good humor, Deborah felt pressured and uneasy. There was a steely undercurrent to his attention that made her wary.

“If
I agreed, which I am not inclined to do. It is nothing personal, Dexter, but I’m not ready to get married again. To anyone.”

“Aw hell—heck, Miss Deborah, you’ll get over that. Out here, there just ain’t much time to waste. And you hardly knew Miguel. It was a marriage of convenience. You can’t be that tore up over it.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” she said stiffly.

“Is it the other? Has anyone said anything to you about it?” His shoulders hunched forward, and he said softly, “I won’t let no one bother you about that.”

For all her irritation, Deborah couldn’t help thinking how delicate he could be for a blustering man. She thawed slightly.

“That’s very kind of you. But I—” Standing, Diamond reached down to lift her. “No more excuses. If you want your cousin to go along or Señora Velazquez, or even Don Francisco, I don’t care. They can all ride along, just so you enjoy yourself.” It was an appeal that was hard to resist, and Deborah smiled. “All right!

You’re too persistent to refuse any longer. I’ll go this time.” He didn’t seem to hear the qualifying
this time,
as he grinned and swirled her around with both arms around her waist.

“Damn woman, you like to hear a man beg, don’t you?” he said when she protested his grip. His arms tightened, and Deborah looked up at him.

“Put me down, or I won’t go.” He released her, still grinning. “A lady. Yep. All the way to—”

“Don’t say it!”

When Deborah had gathered Judith and they met Diamond on the front patio, he gestured to the saddled horses. “All ready to go, ladies.” He tugged at the brim of his hat and surveyed Deborah closely. “You look like a ray of sunshine in that yellow outfit, honey. Good enough to eat.” She felt her cheeks grow warm. “I’m afraid I don’t have a riding habit in black.”

“I ain’t complainin’, am I? Hell no.” He put a possessive arm around Deborah’s waist. “Come on. We’ll help you mount up.” The
we,
Deborah discovered, was Diamond and his hired gunman. Zack Banning.

Her heart lurched when she saw him lounging under the shade of a scrubby tree, his back and the sole of one boot pressed against the trunk. He was smoking, and when they came out into the bright sunlight, he stood up slowly and ground his cigarette out under his heel.

He walked toward them with that languid grace and easy, loose-hipped stride, lethal and fascinating at the same time.

“You remember Banning, don’t you?” Diamond asked with a careless wave of his hand at him. “He’s our guard. Crack shot. Ought to make you feel a lot safer havin’ two of us.” She couldn’t say anything. She nodded, and saw that Judith had come to a quick halt. Zack watched Judith, his eyes cool and wary. She looked so pinched and frozen that Deborah thought for a moment she would go back inside.

But then she said stiffly, “I can mount by myself, thank you.” Diamond seemed not to notice. He was looking at Deborah and paying no attention to Judith. “Come on, honey. I’ll lift you up.” She had no time to offer a protest before Diamond had his hands around her waist and was lifting her onto the broad back of a docile bay mare.

She felt Zack’s amused gaze on her, and wondered if he was remembering her escape from his camp atop a lively Comanche pony.

When Diamond’s hands lingered on her waist after she was seated, Deborah said tartly, “I can manage from here.” Still grinning, he drawled, “You ever see such a touchy woman, Banning?”

There was a moment of silence before Zack said, “Not often.” It was going to be a very uncomfortable ride, Deborah thought as she kept her eyes away from Zack. 
Zack.
 It was odd thinking of him like that. To her, he would always be Hawk—strong, arrogant, proud. A Comanche. It occurred to her to wonder if he had as much trouble adjusting to his dual identities as she did.

They cantered away from the hacienda and up into the low foothills, where spring flowers put on a brilliant display. Swaying in the wind, bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush vied with the hardier blossoms of strawberry cactus, and the creamy sprays of yucca dancing tall and gracefully on long stalks. A recent rain had caused a frenzied eruption of brief color across the hills and drier plains.

The sun was a warm caress on her face, the wind a constant urge at her back, whipping her yellow riding skirts around her legs and tugging at the ribbons of her stylish hat. She was suddenly glad she had come, despite everything.

Nudging his prancing mount close, Diamond asked, “Now, aren’t you glad you came ridin’, sugar?” She flashed him a quelling stare, and he amended, “I mean, Miss Deborah.”

“It’s a very nice afternoon.”

“I guess that means yes,” Diamond said after a moment. A white hat shaded his eyes, but she felt him watching her. “You seem to be makin’ it hard for me to know you on purpose. Why is that?” Aware that Judith was riding on her other side, and Zack not far behind, Deborah said, “Do you mean I’m making it deliberately difficult for you to force me into marriage? If so, that is correct.”

“Force—!” The word exploded from him, and he swore a moment before calming down. His horse tossed its head so that he had to soothe it, then he turned to Deborah. “I ain’t tryin’ to force you into nothin’. I’ve never had to ask so blamed much before a woman decided she’d even go ridin’ with me. If you’re playin’ a game, I’m gettin’ tired of your rules.” Deborah kept her attention on her gloved hands and the rhythmic motion of her horse, the gentle jogging that made the feather atop her hat sway back and forth. “I’m not playing a game, nor am I likely to be persuaded into doing something I don’t want to do. I’ve been in that situation once, and I did not like it at all.” 
1

Her voice was loud enough to carry to Zack, and she wondered if he heard and understood.

He did.

Intolerable. Riding behind Diamond and Deborah, eating their dust and being subjected to Judith Hamilton’s frequent murderous glances. He didn’t blame Judith. At least she was being honest in her hatred. He had no idea what Deborah really thought.

He wondered what he was doing here at all. The moment he’d seen her, he should have ridden out. He didn’t owe Diamond anything. The man had offered him a job when he needed one and was tired of drifting. He’d taken it.

But there would be another job when this one ended. Men like Diamond hired gunfighters to enhance their own reputation anyway. They liked having dangerous men around them, men people feared and avoided. It caused a sensation, and he’d seen enough of Dexter Diamond to know that he was a man who always wanted the biggest, best, and loudest.

And now he wanted Deborah Hamilton Velazquez, but Zack couldn’t figure out why. Besides the obvious. Deborah was being so cool, that could be part of the reason. She was a challenge, something he couldn’t have. But there was an underlying current to his enthusiastic courting that made Zack uneasy. Nothing he could put his finger on, but an odd intensity that didn’t ring quite true. Beneath that gruff, hearty exterior, Dexter Diamond had a driving ambition.

Maybe Deborah did, too. Maybe he’d been wrong about her. Diamond was a powerful man, after all. He had money and position and could give her anything she wanted. If that was her goal. Zack realized he didn’t know what she wanted, really wanted.

When he was with her, touching her, she yielded despite protests, her body surrendering to his caresses. But that was a thing apart from ambition.

The starched, reserved lady hid a wealth of emotions beneath her cool exterior. Maybe she hid a compelling ambition, too. Either way, there was no place in her world for him.

He had nothing to offer her, beyond passion.

The knowledge kept him from going to her when he wanted to, when he lay awake at night and thought about her, could almost feel her soft skin beneath his hands and taste the sweet honey of her. And that denial ate at him.

“Let’s stop here,” Diamond said,
 and without waiting for a reply, reined in his horse and swung down. He reached up for Deborah, his hands again lingering around her waist when he stood her on the ground. “We’ll rest the horses a little while before we go on.” 
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Virginia Brown

Disentangling herself from his hold, Deborah murmured an agreement, fully aware of Hawk—no, Zack—watching them. Though he wore a low-crowned tan hat shading his face, she could feel the heat of his searing blue eyes on her. She shivered.

Diamond put an arm around her shoulders. “Cold, honey?”

“No. I have a name, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Deborah. But you’re starched so stiff I thought maybe you might unbend a little if I called you somethin’ sweet.”