A Heart So Wild (17 page)

E
VEN with an average ride of twenty-five to thirty miles a day, Courtney had managed to avoid the deplorable blisters Mattie had predicted. But today, she was sure she'd have some at last. Chandos rode hard and fast to make up for the time they'd lost, and Courtney began to wonder if he was making the ride hard for her on purpose.

It seemed he did everything he could to make her uncomfortable, and had done so since they woke up that morning. He hurried her out of bed and straight into the saddle, to ride behind him this time, which was most uncomfortable.

They reached their camp late in the afternoon and found the other horses well tended and a fire burning—a fire that couldn't possibly have lasted since yesterday morning. Chandos let out a shrill whistle that, ten minutes later, produced an Indian.

Leaping Wolf was not overly tall, but then the Comanches were known for their horsemanship, not their height. He was dressed in an old army shirt with a carbine belt strapped low on his waist. His moccasins were calf-high, his legs otherwise bare except for a wide breechcloth that fell to his knees. His hair was
glossy black, long, and loose. His eyes were jet black, set in a broad face. His skin was the color of old leather. He was young and lanky, but powerful across the shoulders. He carried a rifle cradled in his arms like a baby.

Courtney, who had stopped breathing when he walked into camp, watched as the two men greeted each other and then hunkered down by the fire to talk. They spoke in Comanche, of course.

They pointedly ignored her, but she couldn't start dinner with them by the fire anyway, so she went through her things instead to see if anything was missing. Nothing was.

Soon, Leaping Wolf left, giving her the same appraising look he'd given her when he entered, long and intense. But where there'd been wariness in his expression before, his guard was relaxed now and she could have sworn he was almost smiling.

He said something to her, but he didn't wait for Chandos to translate. Once he was gone, Chandos hunkered back down by the fire, chewing on a blade of grass, watching the place in the trees where his friend had disappeared.

Courtney decided he wasn't going to volunteer what Leaping Wolf had said, so she went to see what their supplies held for dinner.

When she brought the usual beans and dried beef and biscuit fixings to the fire, Chandos fixed his attention on her.

“I want you to burn that blouse,” he said, startling her.

Courtney didn't take that seriously. “Do you want biscuits or dumplings?”

“Burn it, cateyes.”

He was looking at the deep V that plunged down to a knot where she'd tied the blouse together. Her torn chemise was under it, turned around so that the rip was in the back and the back was in the front, covering her breasts, but just barely.

“Did your friend say something about my blouse?”

“Don't change the subject.”

“I wasn't. But I'll change the blouse if it will make you happy.”

“Go ahead. Then bring it—”

“I will not!” What was wrong with him? “There's nothing wrong with this blouse that I can't repair. I fixed the other…” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, I see. It's all right if
you
rip my blouse, but now that someone else has, you want it burned. That's it, isn't it?”

He glowered at her, and her anger mellowed into a warm glow. Jealousy, possessiveness, whatever it was, this meant he felt
something
for her. She decided she was willing to do as he asked.

She fetched a blouse of coral pink and went behind a tree to change. Returning a few minutes later, she quietly dropped the torn white blouse into the fire. Of fine, delicate silk, it was consumed in seconds. Pieces of ash floated up and were caught in the breeze.

Chandos continued to stare, brooding, into the fire.

“What did your friend say to me?” Courtney finally asked.

“He wasn't talking to you.”

“But he was looking at me.”

“He spoke
of
you.”

“Well?”

The silence went on, broken only by the crackle of the fire.

“He commended your courage,” he finally answered.

Courtney's eyes widened. The reaction was lost on Chandos, however, as he got up then and left the camp, walking toward the river. She sighed, wondering if he had told her the truth.

He hadn't exactly. He didn't want to tell her that Leaping Wolf's actual words had been, “Your woman has more courage now. That is good if you decide to keep her.”

Oh, hell, Chandos knew she had more courage, but that made no real difference. She still wanted and deserved things Chandos could never give her, so he couldn't keep her. Yet when Leaping Wolf had called her “his woman,” it had sounded so right. Damn her and her cat eyes!

He wished this journey were over, wished he'd never started it. Enduring another two weeks with this woman would be hell. The only good thing was that she had given him a reason to not touch her again when she'd mentioned pregnancy. Of course, that didn't mean he would stop wanting her…

He was afraid. When she was taken, he'd felt fearful in a way he hadn't felt for years. It was an emotion he'd been immune to these last four years. You had to
care
about something to feel such a fear of losing it.

Thinking about that only increased his frustration, so Chandos directed his thoughts to what he would do to Wade Smith when he
found him. That was at least a frustration he was used to, for the man had slipped through Chandos's fingers so many times. Would Paris, Texas, be the end of the trail at last?

Chandos spent a very restless night, between one frustration and another.

T
WO days away from Paris, Texas, Courtney sprained her ankle. It was a stupid accident. She stepped on a large rock, using only her instep for support, and the rest of her foot buckled right under. If she hadn't been wearing boots, it might have been a lot worse.

Her foot swelled so fast she had difficulty getting her boot off. And once it was off, it wouldn't go back on. The pain wasn't too bad as long as she didn't move her foot. But staying off her feet and delaying the journey was out of the question. Even if Chandos had suggested it, she wouldn't have agreed.

Chandos's disposition changed when she was injured. Now he was indifferent only half of the time. He became quite solicitous. She got the impression that he welcomed the opportunity to discharge the debt he'd incurred when she took care of his snakebite injury.

The man was so exasperatingly independent, he'd probably resented her help. Well, that debt was quickly cancelled as he saw to all her needs, cooked their food, and took care of all four horses. He made her a crutch out of a sturdy limb. He helped her mount and dis
mount. And he kept their pace slow, cutting their daily distance by a third, after all.

They had been traveling along a creek in a southeasterly direction when she sprained her foot, and after the injury, Chandos veered sharply southwest. Courtney didn't know it, but he changed direction because of her injury. They crossed the Red River, then skirted around a town—much to her disappointment. She hadn't seen civilization for weeks!

They reached another town a few hours later, and Chandos went straight in, stopping in front of a restaurant called Mama's Place. Courtney was dying for a meal that didn't include beans, and she was delighted when Chandos led her inside, dusty and unpresentable though she was. The large, bright dining room held a dozen tables covered with check tablecloths. Only one was occupied, since it was the middle of the afternoon. The couple at that table gave Courtney and Chandos the once-over, the woman becoming alarmed as she looked Chandos over. Dusty and travel-worn, he was every inch the gunfighter in black pants and dark gray shirt open halfway down his chest, a black neckerchief tied loosely around his throat.

Chandos gave the middle-aged couple a brief glance, then dismissed them. He seated Courtney, told her he'd be back in a minute, then disappeared into the kitchen. Courtney was left to endure the couple's scrutiny, feeling utterly self-conscious, knowing how disheveled and dirty she looked.

A moment or so later, the front door of the restaurant opened and in strode two men who had seen the strangers ride down the street and
wanted a better look. Courtney's nervousness increased. She always hated being the center of attention, and it was impossible to be invisible in Chandos's company. He couldn't help but arouse curiosity.

Just then, imagining what these people were thinking about her, she suddenly realized what her father would think. Hadn't he married his housekeeper just for the sake of propriety? Courtney was traveling alone with Chandos! God sakes, her father would think the worst—and the worst was true!

When Chandos returned, he immediately noticed her high color and rigid posture. Her eyes were glued to the table. What was wrong? Had the two fellows who'd come in after he left been bothering her? He gave them such a hard look that they immediately left the restaurant. A few moments later, the couple at the table also left.

“Food will be here in a minute, cateyes,” Chandos said.

The kitchen door opened, and a round woman strode toward them. “This is Mama. She'll be taking care of you for a few days,” Chandos announced casually.

Courtney's eyes riveted on the rotund Mexican woman, who began speaking rapid Spanish to Chandos. She was short and comfortable looking, with salt-and-pepper hair woven into a tight bun. She was wearing a brightly colored cotton skirt and white blouse with an apron over them, and woven leather sandals.

“What do you mean, she'll be taking care of me?” demanded Courtney of Chandos. “Where will you be?”

“I told you. I have business in Paris.”

“This
is
Paris!” she said, exasperated.

He sat down across from her, giving Mama a nod of dismissal. Courtney watched the woman waddle away, then gazed at Chandos, waiting for him to explain.

“What are you up to?” she said, glaring. “If you think you can—”

“Settle down, woman.” He leaned across the table and caught her hand. “This is not Paris. It's Alameda. Because of your ankle, I figured you could use a few days' rest while I take care of my business. I didn't want to leave you alone, so I brought you here.”

“Why would you have to leave me alone? What is it you have to do in Paris?”

“That, lady, is none of your business.”

Oh, how she hated it when he took that tone with her! “You're not coming back, are you? You're just going to leave me here. Is that it?”

“You know me better than that,” he said. “I brought you this far, didn't I? I'm not going to abandon you a few miles short of your destination.”

That didn't alleviate her frustration. She didn't want to stay with strangers, and she didn't want Chandos to leave her.

“I thought you were going to take me with you to Paris, then we would go on from there.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Because of my ankle?”

He felt he'd already answered that. “Look, I'll only be gone about four days. It'll do you good to stay off your foot that long.”

“But why here? Why not in Paris?”

He sighed. “I don't know anyone in Paris. I
pass through Alameda often, coming and going through Indian Territory. I know Mama. I know I can trust her to look after you while I'm gone. You'll be in good hands, cateyes. I wouldn't leave you unless—”

“But, Chandos—”

“Goddamnit!” he exploded. “Don't make me feel—”

He stopped as Mama entered, carrying a large tray of food.

Chandos stood up as Mama reached the table.

“I'm leaving now, Mama. See that she gets a bath after she eats, then put her to bed.”

He marched halfway to the door, then stopped, turned, and came back. Towering over Courtney, he lifted her out of her chair and wrapped his arms around her. His kiss was heady stuff, leaving her breathless.

“I'll be back, kitten,” he murmured huskily against her lips. “Don't scratch anyone while I'm away.”

And then he was gone. Mama was staring at Courtney, but Courtney was watching the door that had just closed and trying to hold back her tears.

If she could feel such desolation now, when he would be gone only four days, how was she going to feel when he left her, for good, in Waco?

F
OR two days Courtney just sat in front of her bedroom window above the restaurant, looking at the street out front. When Mama Alvarez scolded that she should be in bed, Courtney smiled vaguely, refusing to argue. Mama meant well. And Courtney knew it was stupid to keep watch by the window when Chandos probably hadn't even reached Paris yet, but she wouldn't budge.

Her foot propped on a cushioned stool, she sat and watched the activities of the small town, which was only a little bigger than Rockley. She did a lot of thinking in that bedroom, and no matter how she argued with herself, one truth could not be denied. She loved Chandos. She loved him more than she thought it was possible to love anyone.

It wasn't just one thing. It wasn't only that he made her feel safe. That was important, but there was also the wanting. Lord, how she wanted him. It was also the way he could be gentle when she needed gentleness, loving when she needed loving. And it was his lonely independence too, his don't-get-close attitude. How vulnerable that made him seem.

But as much as she would have liked to,
Courtney didn't deceive herself. She knew she couldn't have Chandos, no matter how much she wanted him. He wanted no permanent relationship, and had made that clear. She had to be realistic. There would be no marrying Chandos.

As far back as she could remember, she had doubted she would ever find true love and have that love returned. That she was right gave her no satisfaction now.

The second day of her stay at Mama's, Courtney met Mama's daughter. The girl barged into Courtney's room without knocking and introduced herself. It was hate at first meeting—for both of them—for Courtney recognized the girl's name from Chandos's tortured dreams, and Calida Alvarez knew Chandos had brought Courtney there.

Calida was beautiful, vibrant, with glossy black hair and brown eyes that sparkled with malice. She was older than Courtney by only four years, but those few years made a great difference. The older girl, passionate by nature, exuded the confidence and self-assurance Courtney had always lacked.

That is what Courtney saw. Calida, on the other hand, saw her first real rival, a young lady who was coldly formal, calmly in control, and whose sun-kissed features were so unusual she was stunning. Golden skin, brown hair that flashed with golden streaks, eyes that slanted upward at the corners like a cat's and were the color of warm whiskey. Courtney was tawny gold all over, and Calida wanted to scratch her eyes out. In fact, she attacked with words.

“I hope you have a good reason to travel with my Chandos.”

“
Your
Chandos?”

“
Sí
, mine,” Calida said flatly.

“He lives here, then?”

The older girl hadn't expected a counterattack, and she faltered, then recovered.

“He lives here more than he lives anywhere else.”

“That hardly makes him yours,” Courtney murmured. “Now, if you'd said he was your husband…” She gave Calida a vague smile and let the insinuation hang in the air.

“
I
am the one who has refused marriage! If I want to marry him, I have only to snap my fingers.” She did, loudly.

Courtney found her temper rising. Did Chandos know how certain of him Calida Alvarez was? Did she have good reason to be so certain?

“That's all very well, Miss Alvarez, but until you do have that ring on your finger, my reasons for traveling with Chandos are none of your concern.”

“It is my concern!” Calida shouted loudly enough to be heard in the street.

Courtney had had enough. “No it is not,” she said slowly, with a furious undertone. “And if you have any more questions, I suggest you save them for Chandos. For now, get out.”

“
Puta!
” Calida spat. “I will have words with him, all right. I will see he leaves you here, but not in my mama's house!”

Courtney slammed the door shut behind the girl, then realized that her hands were trembling. Was there anything real in Calida's threat? Could she talk Chandos into abandon
ing Courtney here? There was enough doubt to make Courtney worry. Calida had known Chandos a long time. She knew him intimately. Courtney did too, but Chandos came back to Calida often, while he resisted Courtney with all his might.

 

Calida flounced into Mario's Saloon, where she worked in the evenings. She lived with her mama, but her life was her own and she did as she pleased, worked where she wanted to, and turned a deaf ear to her mama's pleas.

She worked in the saloon because that was where excitement was. There were occasional gunfights and brawls—many of them fought over her. Calida thrived on excitement, and was happiest when she instigated action, whether by pitting two men against each other, or stealing a man from another woman so she could watch the drama unfold. Calida had never been thwarted, never failed to get what she wanted, one way or another.

At that moment, she was fuming. The
gringa
had not given her the answers she wanted. Nor had she seemed upset to learn that Chandos had another woman.

Maybe there was nothing between Chandos and the
gringa
. Could that be? Maybe the kiss Mama had witnessed meant nothing. But Calida told herself there had to be something between Chandos and Courtney. He'd never traveled with a woman before, Calida knew. Chandos was a loner. That was one of the things Calida liked about him, that and the dangerous aura about him.

She knew Chandos was a gunfighter, but she
believed he was also an outlaw. She'd never asked, but she was sure he was. Outlaws excited Calida more than anything else. Their lawlessness, their unpredictability, their dangerous lives. Many of them passed through Alameda on the run, usually to hide out in Indian Territory. She knew many outlaws, had bedded many, but Chandos was something special.

He never said he loved her. He never tried to bamboozle her with words. She couldn't deceive him in any way. If he said he wanted her, he wanted her. If she tried to play hard to get or inflame his jealousy, he walked away.

It was his indifference that intrigued her and made her always available when he came to town, no matter who else she was bedding or pursuing at the time. And Chandos always came to her. He stayed at her mama's house, too, which was convenient.

Chandos didn't like hotels, and the first time he came to Alameda, he'd talked Mama into renting him a room. Mama liked him. She didn't like Calida's other men, but she liked Chandos. And there were empty bedrooms in the house since Calida's brothers had grown and left home. Mama knew what Chandos and her daughter did late at night. Calida brought other men to her room, even Mario, but the older woman had long since given up trying to reform Calida. Her daughter did as she liked and always would.

And now, the man she considered exclusively hers had brought another woman to town with him and asked
her
mama to look after the woman! What nerve!

“What has put that spark in your eye,
chica?
”

“That—that—” She stopped, staring at Mario thoughtfully. She smiled. “Nothing important. Give me a whiskey before I start serving—without the water.”

She watched carefully as he poured her drink. Mario, a distant cousin, had come to Alameda with her family nine years ago. The family had been forced to leave one town after another, towns that didn't tolerate Mexicans running businesses. Alameda, farther north, was tolerant because there had never been any Mexicans there before. Everyone loved Mama's cooking, so no one objected when Mario opened a saloon across from Mama's restaurant. The saloon was a success because Mario's liquor was good and cheaper than his competitors'.

Mario was Calida's lover when Calida felt generous. He'd have married her in a minute, as would several other men, but Calida didn't want a husband. Certainly she didn't want Mario. He was handsome enough, with velvety brown eyes and a pencil-thin mustache that made him look like a Spanish grandee. And his brawny strength was impressive. But at heart Mario was a coward. Mario would never fight for her.

Calida favored Mario with another smile as he handed her the glass of whiskey. An idea was taking shape in her mind, one that had numerous possibilities.

“Mama has a guest, a beautiful
gringa
,” Calida said casually. “But Mama doesn't know she's a
puta
.”

“How do you know?”

“She confided that she plans to stay at our
house only until her injured foot is better. Then she will move to Bertha's house.”

Mario's curiosity was aroused. He visited Bertha's whorehouse often, though only a few girls there would accept him. A new whore would be much in demand at Bertha's, especially a beautiful new whore. But, Mario thought, he would probably be the last to bed her.

“Are you going to tell your mama?” he wanted to know.

Calida's mouth formed a little moue and she shrugged. “I don't see why. She was very friendly, that one, very talkative, and—and actually, I feel sorry for her. I can't imagine what it must be like to want a man and not have one available. But that is her predicament.”

“She told you
that?
”

Calida nodded, leaning across the bar to whisper. “She even asked me if I knew anyone…who might be interested. Are you?” He frowned at her and she laughed. “Come now, Mario. I know you will have her eventually. I do not mind,
querido
, because I know it will mean nothing to you. But do you wish to wait until she is worn out, or would you rather have her when she is desperate for a man?”

She had him. She knew that look. Mario was aroused by just the thought of being the first man in town to have the new woman.

“What about your mama?” he asked her.

“Wait until tomorrow night. Mama is invited to Anne Harwell's birthday party, and she plans to go as soon as her last customer leaves the restaurant. Of course, she won't stay out very late, not with church the next day. But if
you're quiet, I'm sure the
gringa
will want you to stay with her all night, and you can leave in the morning while Mama is at church.”

“Will you tell her to expect me?”

“Oh, no, Mario.” Calida grinned. “You must surprise her. I do not want the woman to feel indebted to me. Just make sure she doesn't scream before you have a chance to tell her why you're there.”

And, Calida thought, if things went well, Chandos would return in time to be part of the surprise. It would be quite a scene, and she wished she could be there to watch. She felt better just thinking about it.