Texas Homecoming (17 page)

The men separated, the powerful quarters of their horses bunching and gathering as they rode off in different directions, shod hooves sending occasional sparks when they struck stone. Cade turned his mount toward the house, both reassured and unnerved by the continued silence.

The ranch yard was wrapped in silence when he rode in. That unnerved him more than a rifle shot. His grandfather wouldn’t allow anyone to approach the house unchallenged. The fact that he didn’t see any bodies or any sign of blood didn’t reassure Cade. His grandfather was too wily to be caught in the open.

Cade raced to the bunkhouse, found it empty, the rifles gone. A quick look at the corrals showed that the attackers had run off the horses, but he had no clue as to what had happened to Earl or Jessie. They must be in the house.

But even as he hurried toward the house, Cade knew that was wrong. His grandfather would never allow himself to be pinned down.

“Where is my granddaughter?” Senora diViere demanded the moment Cade entered the front door. She held a rifle in her hands.

“She’s safe. I left two men to look after her. Where are my grandfather and uncle?”

“I do not know,” she said, suddenly angry. “They do not tell me what they do, where they go. They leave me here
with this exploding stick”—she shook the rifle in Cade’s direction, causing him to duck to one side—“and disappear. They are probably dead. They deserve to die. Where are the attackers?”

“They ran away.”

“You call yourself an army officer and you let those desperadoes escape? It is no surprise you lost the war.”

“I have to find my grandfather.” Cade doubted that she would believe he considered her safety more important than capturing the attackers. “Holt and Ivan are bringing Pilar to the house. Until they get here, stay inside, keep your rifle loaded, and keep the door locked.”

“Ivan will keep my granddaughter safe,” Senora diViere said. “He is a gentleman.”

Cade didn’t attempt to point out that Ivan could shed his air of gentility in the blink of an eye.

Cade ran back to his horse. If the old man was okay, he’d go in search of the horses. Earl would know it would be impossible to get their cows to market without the remuda, but Cade didn’t know what Earl thought he could do on foot.

An untutored child could follow the route taken by the herd. The horses hooves cut deep into the loose soil, their tightly packed bodies knocked down virtually everything in their path. Cade breathed a sigh of relief when his grandfather walked out of a thicket of mesquite, black chaparral, and acacia.

“They stole the horses,” he said unnecessarily. “Give me your horse, and I’ll go after them.”

“Where’s Uncle Jessie?” Cade asked.

“He went to see what they done to the cows. I heard some shots in that direction before they showed up here.”

“Get up behind me,” Cade said. “We’ll go after Jessie. I sent the boys after the horses.”

His grandfather’s face grew mottled with anger. “You think I’m too old and decrepit to do anything but sit in a rocking chair and suck my thumb.”

“I think you’re mean as a steer with a thorn in his nose, but we can’t go after those horses riding double.”

“I was going to leave you here.”

“No doubt to hold Senora diViere’s hand.”

His grandfather almost laughed. “That’s something I’d like to see.”

“Well, I wouldn’t. Now get up behind me. I’ll take you back, then go find Jessie.”

“I can walk.” Earl started back toward the ranch. “I’m surprised you’re not chasing after that girl instead of worrying about me.”

“I must be crazy, but I
was
worried about you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“And a handful of scoundrels stupid enough to think they could sneak up on you.”

His grandfather’s chest rose a little. “I didn’t survive two wars by being stupid.”

The old bastard’s head was as hard as iron wood, but he wasn’t stupid. “Since you don’t need me, I’ll go see if Pilar’s reached the house yet.”

“Two men aren’t enough protection for her without you running off to check on her?”

“I want to know if Holt or Ivan saw anything on their way in.”

“According to you, these fellas can do anything. Surely they can follow a trail plain enough for a child to see.”

“You’re right. Let’s find Jessie.”

*          *          *

“Cade would probably have killed that man if his friends hadn’t tried to shoot Cade in the back,” Pilar said.

“None of this would have happened if Laveau had been here,” her grandmother said.

Pilar had spent the last twenty minutes telling her grandmother about the fight and how they’d gotten Cade out of jail. Senora diViere had shown only marginal interest. She kept looking outside to make sure Holt was still there. Ivan had gone off to help look for the horses.

Pilar wondered where Cade had gone. Her grandmother said the attackers ran away when they heard the shots, but she couldn’t stop worrying. She was certain Cade wouldn’t stop until he found the horses. Neither could she believe that after going to so much trouble to steal the horses, the attackers would give them up without a fight.

“I asked the major about Laveau,” Pilar said.

As she expected, she caught her grandmother’s attention immediately. “Does he know Laveau? When will he be coming home? Did anybody hurt him in that war?”

“He doesn’t know Laveau, but he knows of his situation,” Pilar explained. “Apparently, traitors are despised by both sides.”

“Laveau is not a traitor. He simply chooses the winning side.”

Pilar had never doubted that her grandmother’s loyalties lay with her family rather than any ideological considerations. “The major said Laveau may not come home for a long while yet.”

“But he must. He must drive the squatters out. He must—”

“The major said every man in Texas will want to punish Laveau for changing sides.”

“They cannot do that. He has a right to choose which side he wants.”

“He could have in the beginning. It was changing sides in the middle of the war that was the problem. The major said even with the Union Army here, Laveau would never be safe. The major said—”

“
Sangre de Cristo!”
her grandmother swore. “I am a Cordoba. I cannot continue to live as a dog. I will die.”

“He didn’t say Laveau wouldn’t come back,” Pilar hastened to assure her. “He just said he would be in grave danger.”

“From every man in Texas,” her grandmother exclaimed. “Those infidels think they have the right to shoot my Laveau. Poor boy, he is not a brave man. He will not return.”

Pilar was too shocked at her grandmother’s words to respond. From the day he rode off to the war, her grandmother had spoken of Laveau as though he were the answer to every prayer. There was no problem that couldn’t be fixed if Laveau were here, no injustice that couldn’t be righted, no insult that couldn’t be avenged.

“I’m sure he will come back,” Pilar said. “He said so in his letters.”

“That Wheeler boy and his friends, they come back, but Laveau, he does not return because he is afraid somebody will shoot him. Is that Wheeler boy afraid somebody will shoot him? No. He tries to get himself shot all the time, and all the time he escapes. What is he doing right now? Following those desperadoes so they can shoot at him again.”

Pilar would have loved to explore this shocking shift in her grandmother’s attitude, but she saw riders coming into the ranch yard. “They’re back,” she said as she hurried to the door.

Pilar rushed out to the porch, then stopped at the top of the steps. She wrapped her arms around the post to keep herself from running forward to meet them. Cade and his grandfather rode double. Jessie rode double with Ivan.

“Where are the others?” she asked. “Did anybody get hurt? Did you find the horses?”

“What are you standing about for, girl?” Earl Wheeler demanded as he slid to the ground. “Start cooking. You got nine hungry men to feed.”

“She has a right to know what happened,” Cade said.

“A right?” Earl squeaked.

“Nobody got hurt,” Cade said, “and we found the horses. The boys are bringing them in now.” He turned at the sound of an approaching horse. Rafe rode into the yard alone.

“We found the cows, too,” Earl said, but Pilar had already turned her attention to Rafe. She could sense he had something important to tell Cade.

“Where’ve you been?” Cade asked.

“Getting me a squatter,” Rafe said. “I only meant to wing him, but the damned fool feinted to one side, and the bullet went through his lungs.”

“I wanted to question him.”

“I questioned him for you, but you’re not going to like the answers.”

“You can’t trust a damned squatter farther than you can throw him,” Earl Wheeler said.

“He said they attacked the ranch today because they thought we were still in prison. They wanted to take the horses and the steers we’d rounded up.”

“I bet they just about messed their britches when they heard those shots,” Earl said.

“He said they hadn’t been making money like they
hoped. Cattle aren’t worth more than a couple dollars in Mexico because bandits have been stealing Texas cattle by the thousands and flooding the market. He said they were going to wait for Cortina to come north, then take all the cattle from both ranches and head to Mexico. He said they were going to burn the hacienda behind them.”

“No!”

No one had noticed that Senora diViere stood in the doorway.

“You cannot let them burn my home,” she cried, looking at Cade. “You must stop them.”

“God almighty, woman!” Earl Wheeler exclaimed. “Why in tarnation should Cade want to do that?”

Senora diViere ignored Earl Wheeler. She stepped out onto the porch, moved toward Cade, her gaze focused on him. “You and your friends can drive them out,” she said. “You are very brave. You are stronger and smarter than they are. They will run when they see you coming.”

“There’s more than twenty men on the place,” Rafe said. “I doubt that a half-dozen strangers will scare them much.”

“What are ten times twenty squatters compared to seven men such as you?” Senora diViere said, her gaze never leaving Cade.

“You’re crazy,” Earl said. “You’ve been sitting in that room so long, mumbling to yourself, you’ve gone stark raving mad.”

“Those men occupy a fortified position,” Cade said. “You ought to wait until Laveau comes back. Maybe he can get the army—”

“It will be too late,” Senora diViere said, her voice rising to a near scream. “You heard what that man said,” she said, pointing to Rafe. “The cattle will be gone, the house burned. There will be nothing for the Army to save.”

“Sorry, ma’am, but Rafe is right. We don’t have the men. Besides, why should I endanger myself to drive squatters off your ranch?” Cade said.

“To protect your own ranch. Once they take everything I have, they will turn on you.”

“We can protect our own,” Earl said.

“You’ve got a point, ma’am,” Cade said, “but it’s a big risk. I’d have to have a much better reason than that.”

“I can offer you the best reason of all,” Senora diViere said.

“What?” Cade asked.

“A wife. If you return my ranch, you can marry Pilar.”

Chapter Seventeen

Pilar’s grip on reality fractured and fell into tinkling shards all around her. Her grandmother had offered her to Cade in return for driving the squatters from their ranch, had used her as a bargaining chip.

Seeing Cade look equally stunned made her feel better. He would refuse this incredible offer, and her grandmother would regret the panic that had caused her to make it.

“That’s the most sensible idea you’ve ever had,” Earl Wheeler said. “Don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”

Her grandmother ignored Earl. “What do you say?” she asked Cade.

“You give him half the ranch and the house, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Earl said.

“The hacienda belongs to Laveau,” the old woman said, directing a particularly hate-filled glare at Earl. “It has been the family home for four generations.”

“He’ll be just as happy with money. He’ll never be a rancher.”

Pilar couldn’t understand why Cade didn’t speak up. There was no need to let his grandfather bargain for a deal neither of them wanted. She’d never known Cade to be speechless.

“Our custom is to give money to a daughter,” Senora diViere said. “The son of the family—”

“You don’t have any money,” Earl said, interrupting her. “Cade will hold the ranch. Your boy will lose it. You people expect to give a dowry to get somebody to marry your girls, so consider half your land and the house her dowry.”

“You are a foul, greedy old man,” Senora diViere announced. “If I do not agree to your terms, will you take the land from me?”

“You don’t have any land. There isn’t a man in Texas who would deny my right to anything I can take from the squatters.”

Cade continued to stand mute, listening to the two old people argue over their fates. This was unlike the Cade Pilar knew, unlike the man who was never at a loss to know what he wanted or how he meant to get it, the man who never once stepped back and let his grandfather make decisions for him, the man to whom other men looked for leadership.

“It is our rancho by law and by tradition,” her grandmother announced. “Not even Texans would give it to you.”

“Stop this!” Pilar finally managed to get her tongue to work. “This is crazy. Cade and I don’t even like each other.”

“Like is not necessary,” her grandmother said. “Respect is all that is needed.”

Pilar felt as if she were suffocating. Why wouldn’t her grandmother look at her? Why did Cade remain silent?
“Tell them,” she said, turning to him. “Tell them you don’t want to marry me.”

“But I do,” Cade said. He spoke in a quiet, normal voice, just as though they were discussing something of no more importance than what vegetables to cook for supper. “Combining the ranches is a very good idea.”

Pilar had been certain Cade would refuse, would treat the idea with scorn. But he hadn’t. She had only to agree to the bargain, and she would be his wife.

The realization that this heretofore impossible eventuality was only a few steps from being reality was mind-numbing. As far back as she could remember, her grandmother had hated every Wheeler that ever drew breath. It was beyond the range of Pilar’s imagination that her grandmother would consider marrying her to a Wheeler
for any reason.

Earl Wheeler’s feelings were just as vehement. Pilar was certain that only his desire for her land could account for his actions.

Cade’s decision was more understandable. She knew that Cade found her attractive, probably even liked her. That was enough for most Texas men.

But what shocked Pilar, what caused her to go mute and virtually turn to stone, was the realization that she
wanted
to marry Cade, to be his wife. She couldn’t say she loved him. She hadn’t explored her emotional terrain enough to be able to say exactly what her feelings for him were, but she wanted to marry him. Of that she was quite certain.

“Then it’s settled,” Earl said. “We’ll have the wedding as soon as we can get a preacher out here.”

“We will have the wedding
after
we return to our hacienda,” her grandmother said. “And we will have a priest.
I will not have my granddaughter married off like a penniless provincial.”

“She is penniless,” Earl said.

“She is a diViere, and she will be married like one.”

“Okay, but she gets married before we attack the ranch.”

“After.”

“Are you afraid Cade will be killed and she’ll be left a widow?”

“We’ll be married afterward,” Cade said. “Only
if
I drive out the squatters.”

Pilar couldn’t fool herself that Cade was in a daze, that he didn’t know what he was doing, or that he was letting his grandfather make decisions for him.

“Consider yourself lucky, girl,” Earl said. “Every female who claps eyes on him wants a piece of my grandson. I bet thinking about going to bed with him gets you warm all over.”

She felt swept along by events she couldn’t control. She had to have some time to think. “I want to talk to my grandmother,” she said.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Earl said. “Everything’s decided.”

“No, it’s not,” Cade said. “Pilar hasn’t agreed to anything.”

“It’s not up to her to agree,” Earl said. “She’s just a female.”

Pilar pulled her grandmother into the house, down the short hall into her bedroom, and closed the door. She leaned against it as though by doing so she could keep out the madness swirling around her.

“Earl Wheeler is the lowest, most miserable creature on the face of the earth,” her grandmother fumed. “I wonder why God created him.”

“Yet you want me to marry his grandson.”

“The young one is better than the grandfather, but I do not intend for you to marry him. That would be worse than a thousand years in purgatory.”

“But you just said—”

“You heard what the man said. The squatters plan to take the cattle and burn the hacienda. Laveau will not come back in time to prevent that. We will have nothing. We will be beggars.”

“But Laveau—”

“Laveau is not a builder. He cannot create something where there is nothing. We must save the rancho before it is too late.”

“But I can’t promise to marry Cade now, let him take back the rancho—maybe even get some of his friends killed—then refuse to marry him.”

“Of course you can.”

“That’s not honorable.”

“Do the Wheelers treat us with honor when they steal our land? We do not owe them honor.”

“But Cade didn’t steal anything.”

“One Wheeler is like another.”

Both Earl and Cade were strong, determined, capable, fearless. Natural leaders. But where Earl was stingy, mean-spirited, and greedy, Cade was honorable, dependable, and kind. He had always treated her fairly.

“I can’t promise to marry Cade, knowing all the time I mean to renege on my promise.”

“But you must. We will lose the rancho if you refuse.”

Not a thought for Cade or herself, just the ranch. Their grandparents had more in common than either of them would admit. “We’ll still have the land.”

“The land is no good without cattle. The young Wheeler
can drive out the squatters. He will do it for you. I can see it in his eyes. He wants you.”

“That’s all the more reason to refuse to make a promise I don’t intend to fulfill.”

“I do not understand why you hesitate.”

“How do you think he’ll feel if I refuse to marry him?”

“He’s a Wheeler. He has no feelings.”

“Have you forgotten he defended my honor in San Antonio?”

“Any man would have done as much.”

“Not the man who was trying to haul me off.”

“They are not men. They are animals.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You are right. The point is your loyalty to your family.”

“I am loyal to the family,” Pilar protested. “I—”

“That loyalty demands that you make any sacrifice necessary. You do not consider yourself. Nor do you consider anyone outside the family.”

“But this is a matter of honor.”

Her grandmother reached out and grabbed Pilar by the arm. Her fingers curved into a claw digging into her flesh. “Nothing is more honorable than preserving the family. It is your duty. Nothing must stop you. Nothing!”

The intensity of her grandmother’s gaze unnerved Pilar. The violence of her feelings had transformed her well-preserved face into the mask of a driven, half-crazed creature. The red of her lips and the black of her brows made her powdered cheeks look hollow, like the skin of a dead person. The fierceness in her eyes made her seem like some predatory creature.

Pilar drew back from her grandmother as from a stranger.

“We could ask Cade to help us,” Pilar said. “We can offer him a percentage of any cattle he manages to get to
market. He plans to drive them to Missouri, where he can get ten times what they’re worth in Texas.” She found herself talking faster, trying by the force and rapidity of her words to sway her grandmother. “I’m sure his grandfather will agree. He doesn’t like us any more than we like him. He’s greedy for more land, but he could buy more with the money we’ll pay him.”

“That old man will not risk his grandson for some future reward,” her grandmother said. “He agreed because he saw immediate gain. His grandson is the same.”

“And what do you think they’ll do when they find we’ve lied?”

“They can do nothing.”

“They can run off our cattle and burn the hacienda.”

“They would never do that!”

“I don’t know what they’ll do, but any man with enough nerve to openly take land from us isn’t going to hesitate to take revenge if we cheat him.”

Pilar was relieved to see that her grandmother was at least giving her arguments some thought. She wanted the rancho back, too, but there was only so much she could force herself to do. After his kindness to her, she couldn’t possibly treat Cade so badly. He would hate her, and she didn’t think she could stand that.

“I will not give him cattle,” her grandmother said.

“Then we have only two choices. First, I can actually marry him.”

“No! I would kill myself.”

“Or I can tell him that I would like to marry him, but that we don’t know each other well enough. I can insist upon a period of time during which we can become acquainted, see if we’re compatible.”

“Why would he agree to such a thing?” her grandmother asked.

“Because he believes that a man and woman are equal, that they should share the decisions in their lives.”

“A woman should concern herself with her children and keeping her husband happy. Everything else she should leave to him.”

Without realizing it, her grandmother had just stated the reasons Pilar wanted to marry Cade rather than Manuel. “That’s not the way Americans think, and we might as well take advantage of it.”

“Will he not insist that you marry him before he drives the squatters out?”

“No. Once an idea starts to grow in Cade’s head, he can’t wait. I expect he’s already working out a strategy to take the squatters by surprise.”

“And if he does not?”

“Then we’ll have to think of something else.”

There was an abrupt silence when they rejoined the men. Cade looked so irritated, Pilar wondered what Earl had said. As usual, Rafe’s expression was inscrutable.

“You ready to set the day, girl?” Earl asked.

“My granddaughter is overcome by modesty,” Senora diViere said. “She finds herself unable to do this thing so quickly.”

“You’re not backing out, are you?” Earl demanded. “Because if you are—”

“If you’ll let her talk, I expect you’ll find out,” Cade said.

Pilar threw Cade a grateful look, then turned away. She couldn’t look him in the eye. She was about to do something unethical. She prayed he would turn her down.

“I haven’t been thinking of marriage,” Pilar began.

“That’s a lie,” Earl said. “You’ve been engaged to a fancy Mexican for I don’t know how long.”

“I don’t think Manuel wishes to marry me any more than I wish to marry him.”

“I didn’t think your kind paid any attention to that.”

“Gramps, will you let her talk?”

“Well, she won’t get to it.”

“She can’t, with you interrupting all the time.”

“
I
could.”

“Not everybody is as bullheaded as you.”

“I never thought I’d see the day when you took her side against me.”

“He did when he insisted she eat at the table,” Rafe pointed out.

“Do you want me to gag him?” Cade asked Pilar.

“That’ll be more than you can do,” Earl said, dancing about like he was on a hot stove. “Ain’t nobody getting the best of Earl Wheeler.”

Pilar couldn’t help smiling. If Cade could wrestle full-grown steers to the ground, he could topple the old windbag in a second.

“We need time to find out if we like each other well enough to live together for the rest of our lives,” Pilar said.

“You’ve had several weeks already,” Earl said. “What more do you need?”

“With all the work he did, I hardly saw Cade,” Pilar pointed out.

“You saw him at the table every day,” Earl said. “I should think that would be more than enough.”

“It would for any wife of yours,” Senora diViere said.

“The idea is too new for me,” Pilar said, sticking closely to her main point and hoping to head off a resumption of the battle between their grandparents. “Our families have
been enemies all my life. I’m sure you taught Cade to hate all of us.”

“But I didn’t,” Cade said.

“You kidnapped her,” Senora diViere reminded him.

“Just having a bit of fun,” Cade said. “I’ve never had to force any woman to my bed.”

Pilar felt herself grow warm. The memory of the kisses they shared had kept her warm for two nights. The thought of sharing Cade’s bed threatened to scald her.

“I am not interested in a litany of your conquests,” her grandmother said.

“I didn’t intend to give it. Now, if everyone will let Pilar finish.”

“I have, essentially,” Pilar said, pulling her mind from thoughts that made her feel far too warm. “I don’t think we should make any promises before we can decide how we feel about each other.”

“But you expect us to run off those scalawags while you sit around trying to make up your mind,” Earl said.