Texas Homecoming (20 page)

“If you try to sound an alarm, I’ll have to kill you,” Cade warned. He turned round, and his heart jumped into his throat. He didn’t see Pilar. A quick survey of the courtyard told him it was empty.

“It’s here. I found it under the straw.” Her voice reached him as she emerged from a darkened doorway.

“Can you stay here while I bring the others?” he asked.

“Yes.” She sounded petrified.

“You’ll be safe as long as you keep out of sight.” He glanced toward the man tied to the post, then handed her a gun. “If he tries to escape, hit him with this. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Cade threaded his way though the stables and out into the open very quickly, but he knew that every second would seem like ten times that long to Pilar. He found the men and returned to find Pilar standing over the prisoner, her mouth set, her face white with fear.

“You should have shot him,” Owen said.

“We want to catch the squatters by surprise, not give them warning,” Cade said.

“I’ll cut his throat,” Rafe offered.

“We’re taking them into San Antonio to jail,” Cade said. “Now let’s see if this tunnel is still open.”

Nothing about the tunnel reassured Cade. The ladder had rotted and collapsed. They would have to drop to the tunnel floor. He didn’t know how they’d get out the other end.
If
they could get to the other end. He entered the tunnel first, lighted the lantern, caught Pilar when Rafe and Broc lowered her into his waiting arms. He felt a momentary surge of sexual energy as her body slowly slid down his, but it subsided the moment her feet hit the floor and she stepped away from him. He picked up the lantern and started forward as one by one the men dropped into the tunnel behind him.

Cade had been born and raised in open spaces, and he hated the narrow confines of the tunnel. The roof was so low it brushed against his back; the sides squeezed his shoulders; the passage twisted away before him into endless blackness and toward unknown dangers. At one point the passage became so constricted he had to crawl on his hands and knees. At times he could barely fit his shoulders through the narrow passage. He wondered how Ivan would get his huge Polish frame through without getting stuck. A very unpleasant damp, musty smell filled the tunnel. Cobwebs, dancing in front of him like a forest of lacework curtains, caused him to sneeze repeatedly.

“How far do we have to go?” The narrow confines of the tunnel muffled the voice beyond recognition.

“I don’t know, but I would guess about two hundred feet.”

Whatever the actual distance, it was the longest of
Cade’s life. His shoulder muscles hurt from crawling on his forearms, supporting himself with one hand and holding the lantern with the other. By the time he reached the point where the tunnel widened and turned upward, Cade’s muscles were so cramped, he had difficulty standing. There was only room for himself and Pilar to stand up.

There was no ladder. “You’ll have to stand on my shoulders,” Cade said to Pilar.

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ll stoop down. Just walk up me like I was a ladder. Once you can reach the top, ease the door up and tell me what you see.”

Pilar placed a foot on his knee, braced herself against the walls, and climbed up on his shoulders.

“I’m going to fall,” she said when he started to stand up.

“Keep yourself braced against the wall.”

“Hurry up,” the voice that proved to be Owen’s said. “We’re dying in here.”

“Can you reach the top?” Cade asked.

“Yes, but I can’t lift the door,” Pilar said.

“Push harder.”

A moment passed.

“It won’t budge.”

Cade didn’t know why he’d never considered that the door might be under a piece of furniture. Or nailed shut. They would have to back out of this tunnel or die.

“Keep trying,” he said to Pilar.

“I’m not strong enough.”

She had to be. Owen had crawled out of the tunnel and managed to stand up beside Cade, their bodies so close together they could hardly take a deep breath at the same time.

“Put one foot on my shoulder,” Owen said.

She did.

“We’re going to bend down until you can put your hands straight over your head,” Cade said. “When we stand up, push against the door. Whatever you do, don’t let your arms bend.”

It wasn’t enough.

“Can you reach my knife?” Cade asked Owen.

“Yes.”

“Get it and pass it up to Pilar. Maybe it’s just wedged shut from disuse,” he told Pilar. “Push the knife in any place you can, then we’ll try pushing you against the door again.”

“Okay,” Pilar said.

They bent down once again, then gradually inched up into a standing position. Cade could hear Pilar straining to keep her arms from bending, to keep the pressure on the door. He heard her grunt and give up.

“Use the knife in a different place,” Cade said.

They tried again with the same results.

“We’ve got to do something else,” Owen said.

“Like what?”

“Back down the tunnel.”

“We’ve come too far to give up.”

They tried twice more. Just as Cade was certain the last attempt had failed, they heard an exclamation from Pilar.

“It’s open,” she whispered.

“What can you see?” Cade asked.

“The eyes of a very big dog about six inches from my nose.”

Chapter Twenty

Pilar froze as she looked into the eyes of the dog. Its sheer size intimidated her. The soft growl deep in its throat terrified her.

“Speak to it,” Cade said.

“What do I say?” How did one talk to a dog that obviously objected to strangers trying to sneak into its domain in the middle of the night?

“You can say anything as long as it sounds friendly.”

“Hello,” she said, feeling utterly foolish. “My name is Pilar. I used to live here. Do you think you could move so I could get out of this tunnel?”

She could feel the two shoulders beneath her feet shake slightly. Cade and Owen were laughing at her. The dog rose to its feet and stuck its nose into the opening. Pilar’s instinct was to draw back, but she forced herself to remain still.

“This really is my house,” Pilar said. “If you’re good, I’ll let you stay. We’ve got lots of room in the stables.”

The growl died away, and the dog pushed its head inside the opening until he could have licked Pilar’s cheek—or bitten her face. He sniffed repeatedly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Pilar said. “It’s just those men I don’t like. I bet they kick you when they’re drunk.”

“Stick your head out and see if there’s anybody in the room,” Cade said.

That was easy for Cade to say. He wasn’t facing a hundred-and-fifty-pound canine. “Please move back,” she said to the dog. “I need to see who’s in the room.”

She fully expected the dog to start growling again when she raised the door, but he didn’t move, just kept watching her with big black eyes.

“I can’t see anyone,” she said, “but it’s very dark.”

“Open the door all the way and look around.”

The dog remained where he was, ears perked, tail moving slowly from side to side. She managed to lower the door without any sound. “There’s nobody here.”

“Climb up. We’ve got to get out of this tunnel.”

Pilar managed to pull herself up into the room. The dog backed up, then came forward and sniffed her dress.

“Let him smell your hand,” Cade said as his head appeared above the opening in the floor.

Pilar extended her hand. The dog sniffed it; then his long tongue snaked out and he licked it.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Cade said as he pulled himself up into the room. “Let’s hope he likes the rest of us.”

He didn’t. He started to growl and pinned his ears flat against his head when Owen’s head appeared through the floor,

“Pet him,” Cade said to Pilar. “Make him feel safe.”

“I’m so scared my teeth are chattering, and you want me
to make a dog that weighs more than I do feel safe.”

Pilar was relieved to hear the growls gradually diminish. That was especially important, since the room was filling up with men.

“Where are we?” Cade asked.

“I don’t know,” Pilar said. After living in Earl Wheeler’s small house, she felt foolish saying that, but there were more than forty rooms in the hacienda, less than half of them used by the family.

“With no windows and only one door,” Cade observed, “I’d say this is a storeroom. The dog probably hid in here to get away from the men.”

“I’m never going into a tunnel again,” Nate announced as he poked his head into the room. “It’s not right for a respectable man to have to crawl on his hands and knees in a hole in the ground.”

“Keep your voice down,” Cade hissed. “Someone could be outside the door.”

“Then why haven’t you cut his liver out?”

“I’ll check around first,” Cade said. “Be back in a minute.”

Pilar decided she’d never have made a Night Rider. Waiting in the dark, remaining still for fear of making a betraying sound, unable to talk, wondering what was happening to Cade, wondering where the enemy was, what they’d do once the attack started, was too much suspense for her. She nearly sagged with relief when she heard Broc say, “I hear somebody coming.”

Owen shielded the lantern as Cade slipped into the room.

“I found Bigelow. He says the men are scattered all over the house, mostly in the bedrooms. We’ll get the ones in the open first. If worse comes to worst, we can always starve
out anybody who locks himself in a room. Move out together, but be especially careful not to make any sound. Nobody is to do anything until I give the signal.”

“What do we do?” one of the ex-soldiers asked.

“Knock them out so they can’t sound an alarm. Then tie them up and gag them.”

“What do I do?” Pilar asked.

“Stay here. Your job was to find the tunnel. The rest is up to us.”

“But I want to—”

“You can’t help,” Cade said. “If anybody wakes up, you’ll be a target. What could we do if one of them grabbed you and used you for a shield?”

“You’d have to shoot them both,” Rafe said.

Pilar’s blood ran cold. She wasn’t certain Rafe was joking.

One by one the men left the room on silent feet. When the last one disappeared through the doorway, Pilar felt abandoned. Instinctively she reached for the dog, patting his head to reassure herself. “They’ll soon have every one of those squatters rounded up,” she said to the dog. “Then nobody will ever kick you again.”

The dog wagged his tail. The soft thump-thump-thump against the wall comforted her. When he pushed his head against her and licked her hand, she felt altogether better.

But as the minutes passed and the silence continued unbroken, her nerves grew taut. What was happening? Why didn’t she hear some sounds? Even a grunt would have been welcome. No, she didn’t want any sounds. As long as it remained perfectly quiet, it meant Cade and the others were safe.

Pilar strained to hear even the slightest sound. Her heartbeat sounded unnaturally loud. She had to know what
was happening. She started toward the doorway, then threw herself against the wall when she heard a shot and a loud exclamation.

The hacienda exploded into pandemonium. Men shouting in at least three different languages were drowned out by gunfire. She heard running footsteps, banging doors, splintering wood. Her need to know if Cade was safe drove her back to the doorway. As she opened it, a man hurtled through, nearly knocking her down. He seemed almost as frightened of her as she was of him. They recognized each other in the same instant. Clarence Odum was the man who’d tried to kidnap her in San Antonio.

“This is my lucky day. I wonder what your brave cavalier will do when he sees I’ve got his little whore.”

Pilar tried to move out of his reach, but he was fast. And strong. His hand clamped around her wrist so tightly it was painful. She fought against him, but he brutally twisted her wrist. “Be good, and I just might let you live.”

Pilar wasn’t about to let him use her as a shield so he could kill Cade. She screamed as loudly as she could. He clamped his hand over her mouth, but she bit him and screamed again. He hit her so hard she lost her balance. As she fell, out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of grayish fur, a hurtling form. She heard a shout. She hit the floor and rolled over in time to see the dog on top of Odum, tearing at the arm Odum had flung up to protect his throat.

She got to her feet and ran from the room.

It took her a moment to remember she was in an unfamiliar part of the hacienda. She followed the diminishing sounds of conflict until she reached a doorway that gave access to the courtyard. She emerged into the open and
came to a halt, her gaze wide and unbelieving, her mouth dropping open with shock.

The courtyard had been destroyed, trees cut down, statues knocked over and broken, the small pool empty of fish and water, the fountain dry. The ground had been stomped flat and strewn with the refuse of two years. Nausea rose into Pilar’s throat.

Suddenly Cade was before her, reaching for her, enfolding her in his arms. “I thought I heard you scream.”

She didn’t want to lift her head from his chest, to pull her arms from around his waist. She wanted to stay in the protective circle of his arms forever, but the sounds of fighting still echoed around her.

“That man who tried to kidnap me in San Antonio is in the storeroom. The dog attacked him.”

Cade released her, drew his gun. “Stay here until I get back.”

Pilar couldn’t move. Coming face to face with the destruction of the home she’d dreamed of for two years had drained all her energy.

The dog emerged from inside the room, looked around, then came to her. He whined and thrust his muzzle into her hand. She looked down, saw the blood on her hand. She jerked her hand away, looked for a wound on the dog before she realized he was unhurt.

This was Odum’s blood.

“That’s one squatter who won’t kidnap any more women,” Cade said when he rejoined Pilar. “That dog nearly tore his arm off. I’d better get Holt to look at him before he bleeds to death.” He looked down at the dog still nuzzling Pilar’s hand. “I don’t know what that man did to that dog, but he paid for it tonight.”

Silence had fallen over the hacienda. Small groups of
men, their arms tightly bound behind them, some bleeding from wounds, appeared in the courtyard.

“It looks like the boys have everything under control,” Cade said.

“What happened?” Pilar asked. “Everything was so quiet until I heard a shot.”

“Ivan stumbled into a man leaning against a post. He shot him rather than using his knife. He said Poles never use a knife.”

“Did anybody get hurt?”

“I don’t know. We’ll lock all the men in the stables for the night. Come with me.”

“I want to stay here.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight until I’m certain there’s nobody hiding in a cupboard or under a bed.”

“The dog will protect me.”

Cade turned his gaze to what had been the courtyard. “I don’t want you to be alone when you see the rest of the house.”

Pilar watched the moon rise over the silhouette of the hacienda. The building looked huge and solid in the moonlight, dependable and permanent. She could remember as a little girl coming home from a visit, knowing her journey was at an end when the huge block of the house came into view. The house had represented rest, security, permanence, home.

“You’ve got to eat something,” Cade said.

“I’m not hungry.”

The men had butchered a steer and were roasting the meat over fires of mesquite wood. Not even that beguiling aroma tempted Pilar’s appetite. She had the hacienda back again, but the home she had known was destroyed. The
joyous return she’d looked forward to for years had turned into a wake.

“The men were hoping you would join them in their celebration. It isn’t often we capture a virtually impregnable citadel without a casualty.”

“Please tell them I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood for celebrating.”

“You knew things would be bad.”

“I realize now it was stupid, but I imagined I would return to the home I left. This might as well be a place I’ve never seen.” The dog nuzzled against her; she petted him in a purely reflex action. “I didn’t realize they would destroy everything for the pleasure of it.”

Pilar was glad Cade had insisted that she wait until he could go through the house with her. The story was the same in room after room. Destruction stared her in the face from every corner. The squatters hadn’t been content to squander the food and wine. It was almost as though they knew they would only be able to hold the hacienda for a short time and were determined there wouldn’t be anything for Pilar and her family to come back to.

“My grandmother will never survive this,” she had told Cade. “The king of Spain gave this grant to her great-grandfather. Her grandfather built the first part of the hacienda and her father finished it. This rancho was her dowry. She loved it. Seeing what they have done will kill her.”

Paintings had been slashed. Furniture had been gashed and broken. The floors were littered with the shards of broken china, ornaments, lamp globes. Carpets had been ripped or despoiled. Much to her surprise, the bedrooms had fared better. The mattresses and linens were ruined and
would have to be burned, but the furnishings showed only minor abuse.

Laveau’s clothes had disappeared. At least half of her grandmother’s gowns had been ripped to shreds, but her own clothes had been left alone. She wondered if Odum had been hoping to capture her, or some other unfortunate woman who might wear them.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for what you did,” she said to Cade. “It’s just that—”

“You don’t have to be grateful. I’m doing it as much for me as for you.”

She didn’t know why she didn’t like hearing that. There was no pretense of love between them. Her only requirement was that they like each other. She wondered why she’d been ready to marry Manuel with no guarantees at all.

“The rancho is more than cows or land to me,” she said. She moved away from him, walked toward a grove of pecan trees that grew along a dry wash. “It’s the only home I’ve ever known.”

He came toward her, took her hands in his. “I know it’s a shock, but we can rebuild. The house is still here. It’s functional.”

“It was the needless destruction of something I loved, something that was beautiful.”

“But it wasn’t superficial beauty. It was beauty of character, of usefulness. This hacienda was a source of comfort and pleasure.”

“I never thought of it like that.”

“It has strength of character, just like you.”

“I don’t.”

“You had to have it to admit you pretended to like me to get information about Laveau, to demand that we like
each other before you would marry me, even though you couldn’t get your ranch back without me.”

“I don’t want you to think I agreed to marry you for purely mercenary reasons.”

“I don’t. You wanted freedom, to be respected as a person. In return, you were willing to give me the comfort and pleasure of your body.”

Pilar felt a muscle in the back of her neck jerk, her stomach do a quick somersault. She hadn’t guessed that even under these circumstances their being together could give rise to a physical response in Cade. She recognized his look—the need, the naked hunger. For the first time, she realized this wasn’t just sexual need or hunger. It was the need and hunger of a man who felt just as alone as she did, a man who felt people valued him only for what he could do for them, not for who he was.