A Heart So Wild (19 page)

C
ALIDA waited all night for Mario to return to the saloon. When the saloon closed, she waited in his room. Around four o'clock in the morning, she finally fell asleep.

Courtney waited too, waiting for Calida to come home. She paced her room, anger feeding on itself. She heard Mama return from her party at ten o'clock, but after that the house stayed quiet. Finally, she gave up. Short of going to the saloon to confront Calida, which she wouldn't do, she might have to wait until morning. She fell asleep.

Despite their lack of sleep, both Calida and Courtney woke early Sunday morning. For Calida, this was a near miracle, for she always slept late. But she was anxious to learn the results of the drama she had set in motion.

Mario had never returned, so she assumed he had seduced the
gringa
after all and had spent the whole night with her. That being the case, she set her mind to figuring out the best way to break this news to Chandos. Smiling, she left the saloon.

Mario watched her sashay down the street. He loved that
puta
, but he hated her, too. She had played her last trick on him. He knew what
she was thinking. He'd refrained from going home so she
would
think it. Knowing she would be there, waiting to learn what had happened, he'd gone to Bertha's instead and gotten drunk. He hadn't slept at all.

He could barely keep his eyes open. Since dawn he'd stood at the window at Bertha's, waiting for Calida to appear. Bertha's house was at the end of town, so he had a clear view of the whole street.

Fifteen minutes ago, he'd seen the window open at the
gringa
's bedroom in his cousin's house, so he knew she was up. And five minutes ago Mama had left for church.

Mario wished he could be there to see what would happen now, but he would have to be satisfied just knowing Calida's scheming had not turned out the way she wanted it to, for once. Let her see what it was like to face the gun of an angry woman! At last, he allowed himself to end his vigil at the window and fall asleep beside the whore snoring in the bed behind him.

Courtney stood at the kitchen stove, pouring a cup of the coffee Mama had made before leaving for church. Her temper was as hot as the coffee. Every time she thought of what might have happened last night, her anger boiled over.

When Calida entered the kitchen, there was Courtney. Calida was surprised to find her up, and surprise showed in her eyes. Courtney was alone.

Calida sauntered forward slowly, hips swaying. She grinned, taking in Courtney's haggard appearance.

“How was your night,
puta?
” she asked, giggling. “Is Mario still here?”

“Mario didn't stay,” Courtney said slowly and quietly. “He was afraid I would shoot him.”

Calida's grin faded. “Liar. Where is he if not here? He did not come home, I know that.”

“He's probably in some other woman's bed, since he didn't get what he came to this house for.”

“That is what you say, but I wonder if Chandos will believe it,” Calida said viciously.

Courtney understood now. So this had been for Chandos's benefit. She ought to've guessed.

She took Calida by surprise, slapping her as hard as she could, dropping the coffee cup as she did so. Calida growled as the two women reached for each other, nails bared. In moments they were rolling on the floor. Calida was an old hand at brawling. She fought dirty. Courtney, on the other hand, had never even imagined what fighting would be like. But this was an outlet for her fury, and she had never in her life been so angry. Used, abused, entirely for spite, she fought wildly.

Courtney got in two more solid slaps, and the second one gave Calida a bloody nose. But Courtney lost her hold when Calida jammed a knee into her stomach, putting all her weight behind the blow. The older girl then shot to her feet and ran to the kitchen cabinet. As Courtney rose, Calida swung back around, a savagely exultant expression on her face and a knife in her hand.

Courtney was stopped cold. Prickles raced across her scalp.

“Why do you hesitate?” Calida taunted. “You wanted my blood, so come and get it.”

Courtney watched the knife waving hypnotically back and forth. She considered backing off, but Calida would win if she did. She would get away with her viciousness and have only a bloody nose in payment. That wasn't enough. Courtney's honor demanded that she win this battle.

Calida took Courtney's hesitation for capitulation. She thought she had her. The last thing she was expecting was for Courtney to lunge at the knife, latching onto Calida's wrist.

Calida's mind whirled. She didn't dare kill a
gringa
, no matter that Courtney had attacked her first. They would hang her because she was a Mexican. The
gringa
could, however, kill Calida. The look in Courtney's eye gave every indication that she would use the knife if she got her hands on it.

Calida became truly frightened. The girl was crazy.

Courtney's grip on her wrist tightened and she moved a step closer to Calida.

“Drop it!”

They sprang apart, shocked. Chandos stood in the doorway, his expression thunderous.

“I said drop the goddamn knife!”

It clattered to the floor, and the girls moved farther apart. Calida began straightening her clothes and wiping the blood from her face. Having no idea what else to do, Courtney moved to pick up the coffee cup she had dropped. She couldn't look at Chandos. She was mortified to have been found brawling.

“I'm waiting,” Chandos said.

Courtney glared at Calida, but Calida tossed her head, glaring right back. She had always been able to lie her way out of anything.

“This
gringa
you bring here, she attacked me,” Calida said hotly.

“That, true, Courtney?”

Courtney whirled on him, her eyes wide with astonishment. “Courtney?” she echoed with disbelief. “
Now
you call me Courtney? Why? Why now?”

He sighed and dropped his saddlebags to the floor, then walked toward her slowly. “What the hell's got you so fired up?”

“She is jealous,
querido
,” Calida purred.

Courtney gasped. “That's a lie! If you're going to start lying, you bitch, then I guess I'll have to tell him the truth!”

“Then tell him about how you kicked me out of your room when we had only just met,” Calida began hurriedly, then went on to embellish further. “She was horrible to me, Chandos. When I only asked why she was here, she shouted at me that it was none of my business.”

“As I recall, you did all the shouting that day.” Courtney bristled.

“Me?” Calida was wide-eyed with wonder. “I came to make you welcome and—”

“Shut up, Calida,” Chandos growled, his small supply of patience wearing thin. He grabbed Courtney's arms, bringing her close to him. “Lady, you'd better do some fast talking. I rode all night to get back here. I'm dead tired, and I don't care to sift through lies to get the truth. Tell me now what happened.”

Feeling like a cornered animal, Courtney at
tacked. “You want to know what happened? All right. I woke up last night to find a man in my bed—as naked as I was—and your—your
mistress
sent him to me!”

His hands tightened. But his voice was oh-so-soft.

“Were you hurt?”

It cut through the haze of fury. She knew he was dangerously angry, and that he could ask that question before anything else warmed her.

“No.”

“How far did he—?”

“Chandos!”

She couldn't bear to speak of it in front of Calida, but Chandos was losing his control.

“You must have been dead to the world if he could get your clothes off without waking you,” he said. “How far did—?”

“God sakes,” she snapped, “I took off my clothes before I went to bed. I had closed the window because of the noise, so it was hot in the room. I was asleep when he snuck into my room. I assume he had his clothes on, then took them off before he crawled on top of me.”

“How far did he—?”

“He only kissed me, Chandos,” she interrupted again. “As soon as I felt his mustache, I knew he wasn't—” She stopped, and her voice became a whisper before she finished, “You.”

“And then?” he asked after a silence.

“Naturally I…made my objections clear. He wasn't expecting that. He got up to light the lamp, and as soon as he was away from me I reached for my gun. He was frightened enough to tell me the truth.”

They both turned and looked at Calida.

“A very pretty story,
gringa
,” Calida said, “but Mario did not come home last night. If he did not spend the night with you, then where did he go?”

Chandos set Courtney away from him and turned to Calida, impaling her with his eyes. Calida had never seen Chandos like this. It was her first realization that he might not believe her so easily, and she began to clench her hands.

“Mario?” he demanded furiously. “You sent Mario to her?”

Calida backed away. “
Send
him? No,” she hastily denied. “I told him she was here. I only suggested he come and meet her, maybe cheer her up, because she was alone. If the
gringa
invited him into her bed, this is not my doing.”

“You lying bitch!” Courtney gasped, outraged.

Chandos wasn't buying it, either. His hand shot out, and the fingers closed around Calida's throat.

“I ought to break your neck, you conniving bitch!” he snarled into her terrified face. “The woman you turned your spite on is under my protection. I thought this was the one place I could leave her where she would be safe. But you had to play a vicious game, and now I have to kill a man I've got nothing against, because he fell in with your evil scheming.”

Calida blanched. “Kill him?” she cried. “For what? He did nothing! She says he did nothing!”

Chandos shoved her away from him. “He broke into her room and frightened her. He put his hands on her. That's reason enough.”

He headed for the door and Courtney ran after him, grabbing his arm and stopping him. She was frightened and angry and thrilled all at once.

“You take your job too seriously sometimes, Chandos—not that I don't appreciate it. But, God sakes, if I'd wanted him dead, I could have shot him myself.”

“You don't have it in you, cateyes,” he murmured, not without a trace of humor.

“I wouldn't be so sure,” she retorted. “But you can't kill Mario, Chandos. It wasn't his fault. She told him lies about my coming here to work at Bertha's.” Courtney assumed he knew who Bertha was. “She told him I was a—a whore and that I needed a man, that I was—was—” Courtney's temper exploded again. “
Desperate!
” Chandos nearly choked. “Don't you dare laugh!” she cried.

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

She eyed him suspiciously. Oh, well, at least he no longer had murder in his eyes.

“Well, that's the story she told him. So he actually came here to do me a service, sort of.”

“Oh, God. Trust you to see it that way.”

“Don't be sarcastic, Chandos. It could have been a lot worse. He could have forced himself on me even after he knew I didn't want him. But he didn't do that.”

“All right.” Chandos sighed. “I won't kill him. But I still have some business to attend to. Wait for me in your room,” he told her. She hesitated, tensing, and he touched her cheek softly. “Nothing you will object to, cateyes. Now go on. Fix yourself up, or get some sleep. You look like you could use it. I won't be long.”

His voice soothed her, and his touch told her she had nothing else to worry about. She did as he said, leaving him in the kitchen with Calida.

T
HE moment Courtney stepped into her room, every ache and pain from her fight with Calida began to throb. Her ankle injury hurt worse than ever. She hobbled to the small oval mirror over the bureau, groaning when she got a good look at herself. Lord, Chandos had seen her looking like this. Like this! Oh, God.

Her hair was matted in thick tangles. Dark coffee stains spotted her skirt. There were several tears in her dress. One rip at the shoulder revealed three crescent-shaped punctures surrounded by dried blood. A few drops of blood had dried on her neck, and there was a scratch at the corner of her eye and another behind her ear, as well as half a dozen on the back of her hands.

She knew she would have bruises later on, too. Damn Calida. But at least Chandos believed her and had seen Calida for what she was. Courtney doubted he would be bedding that one again, about which Courtney felt grateful, and a little smug.

A bath was first, and she went back downstairs to find Chandos and Calida both gone. She mopped up the spilled coffee while she
boiled water for her bath. Mama returned from church in time to help her carry it upstairs. Courtney said nothing about what had happened, mentioning only that Chandos was back.

She was fixed up, the bathwater waiting to be removed, when Chandos came in, not troubling to knock. She didn't mind, accustomed by now to a lack of privacy where he was concerned.

His condition startled her. Nearly as messed up as she had been, he was cradling his side.

“Just what I need,” he said, eyeing her bathwater in the tub.

“Don't think you're not going to tell me,” she said firmly.

“Nothing to tell,” he evaded, then sighed. “I didn't kill him. But I couldn't just let it go, either. Calida took off the moment you left the kitchen, or I would have throttled her.”

“But, Chandos, Mario didn't
do
anything!”

“He touched you.”

She was amazed. It was a thoroughly possessive answer. She started to say so, then thought better of it.

“Who won?”

“You could say it was a draw,” he said, sitting on the bed with a groan. “But I think the sonofabitch broke one of my ribs.”

She hurried over and reached for his shirt buttons. “Let me see.”

He caught her hands before she could touch him, and her eyes met his, questioning. There was a wealth of meaning in his bright blue eyes, but she couldn't quite fathom it yet. She didn't know what it did to him when she touched him.

She stepped back.

“You wanted a bath,” she said, embarrassed. “I'll leave for a while.”

“You can stay. I trust you to turn your back.”

“It would hardly be proper—”

“Stay, goddammit!”

“All
right
.”

Courtney whirled around and stalked to the window, where she pulled up a chair and sat, back stiff and teeth clenched, silently waiting.

“How's your ankle?” he asked.

“Better.”

He frowned. “Don't pout, cateyes. I just don't want you running into Calida without me.”

She listened to the sounds of his clothes dropping to the floor, piece by piece, and tried desperately to concentrate on the scene outside the window. Churchgoers were gathered in little groups, and two young boys in their Sunday best were tossing a ball back and forth. A little girl ran after a dog that was running away with her bonnet. Courtney saw it all—and saw none of it. Chandos's boots hit the floor, and she jerked in her chair.

It was all well and good his wanting to keep her within sight in order to protect her, but just then Courtney didn't appreciate it. Didn't he know she imagined his every move? How often she had seen him without a shirt? She knew what his body looked liked, and right now she was picturing him in her mind vividly, as if she could see him. Her pulse raced.

Water splashed, and she heard him gasp. The water would be cold, and she imagined goose-bumps spreading over his arms and chest, then saw herself rubbing them away.

Courtney shot to her feet. How dared he subject her to this? She felt like her insides were dissolving, and he blithely took his bath without a single thought for what he was doing to her! The insensitive beast!

“Sit down, cateyes. Or better yet, go lie down and get some rest.”

His voice was deeply husky, rolling over her like a caress. Courtney sat down.

Think of something else, Courtney .. anything else!
“Did you settle your business in Paris?” Her voice was faint.

“Uh-uh. I've got to go to San Antonio.”

“Before or after you leave me in Waco?”

“After,” he replied. “And I have to hurry, so we'll be riding hard. Think you can manage it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

She cringed as she heard the resentment in her voice. But she couldn't help it. She was sure he was using fictitious business in San Antonio as an excuse to get her off his hands as soon as he could.

“What's wrong, cateyes?”

“Nothing,” she said stonily. “Do we leave today?”

“No. I need some rest. And I don't think you got much sleep last night.”

“No.”

There was silence until he said, “Think you can rustle me up something to bind this rib with?”

“Like what?”

“A petticoat will do.”

“Not one of mine,” she retorted. “I've only got two. I'll go ask—”

“Never mind,” he cut in. “It's probably not broken anyway, just bruised.”

God sakes, couldn't she leave the room for just a moment? “Have I been threatened, Chandos? Is there some specific reason why I should stay here with you?”

“I would think you'd be used to being alone with me, cateyes. Why are you so skittish all of a sudden?”

“Because it's not decent, my being in here while you're taking a bath!” she exploded.

“If that's all that's bothering you, I'm done.”

Courtney glanced around. The tub was empty and Chandos was sitting on the edge of the bed, naked except for a towel wrapped around his hips. Her eyes flew back to the window.

“God sakes, will you put some clothes on!”

“I left my gear down in the kitchen, I'm afraid.”

“I brought your bags up,” she informed him tightly. “They're over there, by the bureau.”

“Then have a heart, will you? I don't think I can move anymore.”

She had the impression suddenly that he was toying with her, but she dismissed it. Frowning, she fetched his saddlebags and put them on the bed, keeping her eyes averted.

“If you're so tired,” she said, “then make use of my bed. I can get another room for tonight.”

“Uh-uh.” His tone left no room for argument. “This bed's big enough for two.”

She drew in her breath sharply. “That's not funny!”

“I know.”

She looked fully at him now. “Why are you
doing this? If you think I can sleep with you lying next to me, you're crazy.”

“You haven't been made love to on a bed yet, have you, cateyes?”

He gave her a lazy smile that stopped her breathing. Her knees liquefied and she reached for the bedpost.

He stood up. His towel fell away, leaving her no doubt of his seriousness. His body was sleek and smooth and damp, and oh, Lord, she wanted to fly into his arms.

But she didn't. She wanted nothing more than to make love, but she couldn't bear his indifference afterward, not again.

“Come here, kitten.” He lifted her face to his. “You've been hissing all morning. Now purr for me.”

“Don't,” she whispered just before his lips touched hers.

He leaned back, but didn't let go of her. His thumbs moved against her lips, and her body swayed toward his of its own volition.

His smile was knowing. “I'm sorry, little cat. I didn't want it to happen. You know that.”

“Then don't do this,” she pleaded.

“I can't help it. If you'd learn to be less obvious about what you're feeling, I wouldn't be in this predicament. But when I know you want me, it drives me crazy.”

“That's unfair!”

“You think I like losing control like this?”

“Chandos, please—”

“I need you—but that's not all.” He gathered her close, and his lips seared her cheek. “He
touched you. I need to wipe that from your memory—I have to.”

How could she continue to resist, after that? He might never admit it, but those words said how much he cared.