Once A Wolf (51 page)

or wherever they choose to go."

"And you can begin to look after them properly—"

"No. That was El Lobo's lair. That life is over. We must all begin again."

"Yes," she whispered. "All over again."

He almost surrendered to the old recklessness, the careless disregard for consequences that

had ruled his life so long. He almost asked her to help him find the purpose that would give his

existence meaning again. He almost asked her to become that very purpose.

And do what? Take away the last of the life she'd known, a life she might still recover with time

and forgetting? She deserved far better than he could ever give, were he the richest and wisest

man in the world.

"Will you go back to New York, or to England?" he asked her, sealing his fate. "If I can help—"

"I do not need your help." She walked away, clutching his ragged shirt about her arms. He

found that he had nothing to say that would not hurt them both in these final moments.

Instead he went to stand at Weylin's side. Cole lay with his arm folded across his chest, covered

by Weylin's coat.

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Weylin looked up. His eyes were bleak, but Tomás saw no hatred in them.

"It's over," Weylin said. "The feud is over."

Tomás closed his eyes. "Thank you."

"No. You tried to ask forgiveness when you thought you'd killed my father. I pegged you wrong

from the beginning. We were both deceived. I won't spend the rest of my life pursuing

something as worthless as this."

"But I have stolen from you many times."

"My brother stole your land, your parents' lives, and my father's. You have the right to hate me.

But I hope the time for hating is finished." He reached up to offer his hand.

Tomás took it in a firm grip and pulled Weylin to his feet. "The hating is finished," he said.

Weylin gazed toward the eastern horizon. "I reckon there's a lot to be done now. There's still

the ranches to run, and the will, and I'll have to see to Cole's affairs in New York. I don't know a

thing about that high-toned world. I'll have to hire a passel of lawyers, at least." He grimaced.

"And you'll want your land back, the land taken from your family—"

"I thank you for that, but no. Not yet." He followed Weylin's gaze. "I think it's best if I leave the

Territory for a time. El Lobo is no more; let it be said that he died fighting Cole MacLean. Let the

legends take us both."

Weylin tipped his hat and sighed. "I'd almost like to ride with you, Randall. I don't want Cole's

empire. Father's was enough, and he had his own men to run it the way he wanted. But maybe

I can undo some of the wrongs they did over the years, make things a little fairer for folks in the

Territory. It's time I grew up."

"It isn't an easy thing, to grow up," Tomás said. He smiled. "But perhaps there are some

compensations."

"Like running as a wolf," Weylin said. "For a long time I thought it was just a kind of unfair

advantage we had over ordinary folk, something to be resisted. But now I know it's natural—if

it's not used for evil." He glanced at his brother. "Maybe I can find a way to use those powers

for good."

"I am sure of it, amigo." Tomás offered his hand again. "I still ask that last favor of you. See that

the Lady Rowena returns safely to whatever place she wishes to go. She was not at fault in any

of this. She deserves only joy and peace."

"Yes," Weylin said. "I'll see to it." He smiled crookedly. "I never had a lot of use for petticoats,

but she's gone a long way toward changing my mind. There may be a few other females like

her."

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"I doubt it," Tomás said softly. "But there is no harm in looking."

He nodded farewell and located one of the riderless horses, the one Cole had ridden from Las

Vegas. He patted its neck and mounted, welcoming the pain in his arm. It reminded him that he

was alive.

His last view of Rowena was the sight of her standing on a hillock, head flung back and hair

tossing in the wind like a battle flag.

"Adios, mi amor" he whispered. "Vaya con Dios."

Rowena didn't turn as she heard him ride away.

The shirt he'd left her smelled of his essence, his masculinity; she clutched it more tightly to her

body, telling herself that she had to make some effort to hide her nudity, at least from Weylin.

He and Esperanza were the only other living people here, now that the drama was over. Cole's

men had fled, undoubtedly in horror at her transformation—and that of their master.

She wasn't afraid of their opinion or the rumors they might spread. She didn't care about the

things that had once been so important.

She'd Changed. She'd abandoned her final and most crucial resolve, the one to which she'd

clung for so many years: not to take the form and shape of a wolf. No matter what else

happened, she had believed herself safe from that offense.

But she'd done it, for Tomás. And she knew she'd do it again under the same circumstances.

The last certainty of her life was gone; she'd seen the others fall away one by one, stolen by the

master thief El Lobo.

It had been too easy to become a wolf. She'd felt invulnerable, free, passionate, just as Tomás

had promised. The Change was like an addiction, a weakness she ought to despise, and she

didn't think she could ever give it up again.

Unless she went far from this place, returned to New York where she could ease back into

Society as if she'd never left— except for the minor inconvenience of fabricating the

explanations for her disappearance and her fiancé's death in the West. Once that awkwardness

had passed, her money and rank would make it possible to resume the life she'd known and

thought she wanted. And she could forget.

Surely that was the solution. Wasn't it what she'd been thinking when she walked away from

Tomás? He'd said it himself, asking if she planned to return to New York or England. He hadn't

even questioned that she might choose something else.

Why should he? He said he'd meant to protect her, free her by killing Cole, expecting to die

himself. Even if he… even though he admitted that she had cured him of his desire for oblivion.

Even though he said he'd come to care for her.

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Care for her. How extremely generous of him. And after admitting so much, he'd ridden away

without a good-bye, as if they were total strangers. Knowing that anything else was impossible,

as she'd told him.

They were too different. Their worlds, their desires, the futures they envisioned. Tomás

searched for his own future, now that he'd decided he had one. She still had the option of

returning to hers—one of her own choosing, without the influence of either Cole MacLean or El

Lobo.

"You taught me not to fear my own life, my own heart." Wasn't that what she'd told Tomás?

Why, then, was she trembling?

Damn you, Tomás Alejandro Randall. You rode away from me. If you think for one minute that

I'll go running after…

A hand touched her arm, warm and familiar. She waited for Esperanza to speak: Esperanza,

who had proven to be so much greater than any of them could have guessed, whose eyes were

filled with such boundless compassion and grief— not for herself, but for those whose lives she

had so altered.

But the girl—no girl now, but woman—didn't speak in words. She communicated in the way

she'd done before, with feelings and images that approached thought. And Rowena herself had

no need to speak.

Love didn't require words. Love spilled from Esperanza and tapped the flow within Rowena, a

love so profound that for a moment all the sorrow in the world was extinguished. And then the

brilliant light of that love quieted, grew simpler and yet more focused. It was courage, and self-

acceptance, and humility. It was the poignant understanding that some Changes could never be

reversed.

Tomás Alejandro Randall had Changed her. There was no going back. Pride meant nothing. The

future was whatever she wanted it to be. She… and Tomás.

She needed him. He needed her. He needed her.

And you love him. She couldn't tell if it was Esperanza or her own heart that exclaimed so

passionately. You love him. Don't let him go.

With a cry of triumph, Rowena threw off Tomás's shirt. She cast a glance at Esperanza. The

young woman smiled her blessing, and Rowena prepared to Change.

She didn't complete the act. The thunder of hoofbeats stopped her just as she gathered the

mist about herself. Tomás came charging back across the plain, his horse at the gallop. He

swept up upon her as he'd done not so long ago, eyes flashing in challenge. He bent low in the

saddle and hooked Rowena around the waist with one arm, carrying her just above the ground

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until his mount came to a snorting halt. He pulled her up effortlessly to straddle his thighs, bare

chest to breasts, lips inches apart.

"I couldn't let you go," he said, breathing hard. "Forgive me, mi alma. Forgive my selfishness."

She gazed down her nose at him, as regally as a naked lady could manage. "What do you think

you're doing, you scoundrel?"

"Kidnapping you," he said. "Stealing you away to be my bride."

"You'll never get away with it. I've a mind to summon the law—"

He kissed her. The kiss was very long and very deep and very mutual.

He drew back enough to let her breathe, grinning with wicked pleasure at her disadvantage.

Damn him, he enjoyed seeing her like this, nude and caught in a most compromising position…

"Well?" he said.

"Well, what? I'm afraid I must insist that you put me down at once."

"But I do so appreciate the view."

"Is that why you continue to make war on women?"

"Only one very special woman. But—" He tapped his chin. "I might be persuaded to let you

down, if you pay my ransom."

"Which is?"

"I know a certain old padre who could marry us quickly. He owes me a favor for services

rendered."

"An illicit contribution to the church coffers, no doubt, made to benefit the less fortunate?"

"I trust that God will forgive me. If you will."

She kissed him. He held her very tight. "From now on," she said, "you will have to do without

criminal activity. We shall find other ways to help those in need and satisfy your endless hunger

for adventure."

"We?"

"Si. If you promise to listen to reason, from time to time."

"Only if you promise to be reckless as often as possible."

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"And if I don't?"

"Then I shall have to convince you." His hand crept up to touch her breast.

The sound of masculine throat-clearing interrupted them. Weylin was standing a little distance

away, his face slightly averted and his tanned skin suspiciously pink.

"I don't reckon you're going to need me after all," he said. He glanced at Esperanza, who had

gone to kneel beside Cole's body. "I'll see that the girl gets to wherever she needs to go."

Tomás leaned back in the saddle. "Gracias." He looked at Rowena. "We have much to thank her

for. We will see her again."

Rowena wondered how far down her blush extended. "Mr. MacLean, if you could escort

Esperanza back to Las Vegas and to a comfortable lodging, we will fetch her as soon as may be.

She will always have a home with us."

"Here in New Mexico?" Tomás asked softly. "When El Lobo is known to be gone forever—"

"The Territory will be safe for a proper home," she said. "I think I'll learn to love your desert, as

I've learned to love its inhabitants."

They gazed at each other. Weylin coughed behind his hand. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll take

my brother home." He turned away before Rowena could thank him again.

"He is not a man for sentimentalismo," Tomás said. "But I think we can count him a friend."

"There is nothing more wonderful than when enemies become friends."

"Si, mi querida amiga." He cupped her face between his hands. "I have forgotten—have I told

you that I love you?"

"Amidst all the confusion, it seems to have slipped your mind."

"Then you may give me as many tongue-lashings as you see fit, and I will endure without

protest." He gave her a sly smile. "And then I will use my tongue just as freely."

She squirmed upon the hard seat of his thighs. "I think we had best find that padre of yours

without delay."

"Agreed." He looked her up and down in open appreciation. "I was thinking… if you're willing,

mi amor… we might leave this horse for Weylin. There is another way we can travel."

It was not a test. Rowena knew that he would love her whether or not she agreed. But she was

no longer afraid.

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