Anacacho, An Allie Armington Mystery (4 page)

He waits until I’m settled in the saddle, then
mounts his horse, a roan called Chief. After telling Miguel to
expect us back around eleven, we set out toward the mountains.

The Anacachos would be termed foothills by
Coloradans, but in this part of Texas they give substance to the
undulating scrub. The weather is temperate, almost warm for
January. Not unusual since the South Texas climate is controlled by
the Gulf of Mexico. Cold fronts sweep across the open plains from
the north or west, but quickly soften under the Gulf ’s southerly
push.

We ride for more than an hour, then come to a fork
in the trail and Paul says, “Everybody gets confused here. Just
remember, right is wrong and left is right.”

At first glance the way to the right is well
defined, while the one to the left is a narrow, deep cut in the
sandstone that seems to disappear. Paul’s right. Once my horse
edges through the cut, the trail opens to a path that hugs the side
of the mesa.

The vista is breathtaking. In the distance I see the
ranch house, the airstrip, and the cluster of oil pumps bobbing
slowly up and down: a perfect view of Paul’s realm.

At the highest point is a lean-to shaded by a stand
of scrub oaks. The structure is open on three sides, with canvas
drops for bad weather. Against the back wall, a wide
mattress-covered platform dotted with large pillows, faces
south.

I realize Paul’s intentions and decide a quick exit
is the best ploy, but when I try to turn Sugar toward the stables,
she strains against the reins and gives a soft whinny.

Paul urges Chief to my side. “Sugar knows there’s
water up here and after such a long ride, I bet she’s thirsty.”

It’s too late to escape. I’m trapped. Paul helps me
dismount, then clasps my waist, as he whispers, “I’ve dreamed about
this moment for years.”

“
Don’t...” My small attempt to
stop what I’ve longed to hear fails.

“
I have to. You need to know what
happened.”

I try to move out of his arms, but Paul tightens his
grip. “Seven years ago I was a coward and I’ve paid for it ever
since. I knew Reena was attracted to me long before you were called
home.”

He was right about that. Every time Paul would come
to pick me up, Reena would race out of her room, throw her arms
around Paul’s waist, wink at me, and say in that husky voice of
hers, “He’s too tall, I’m too small, and that’s two toos, too
bad.”

“
After you left, I managed to
steer clear of Austin, but when Miguel gave me the message that Del
set up a pigeon shoot for the frat alums, I was on the road in
minutes.

“
When Del wasn’t at the Phi Gam
house, I called your place. Reena answered and said Del’s dad
called him back to the ranch. We chewed the fat for a few minutes,
then she asked if I’d like to grab a bite of dinner before I headed
back. I didn’t see any harm in that. I was lonely. She was
friendly. It turned out to be the worst goof of my life.

“
The next morning, I apologized
and told her it was all a big mistake. She agreed, and I thought it
was over, but after a couple of weeks, she called to tell me she
was pregnant.

“
When I told her I didn’t love
her, she went ballistic, jumped in her car, and raced off. I
followed her all the way to Smiley and when I got there Reena
announced if I didn’t marry her she would get an
abortion.”

Reena pregnant? Is that how she got him?

I think back to the time Paul and I first discussed
marriage and the fact that I wasn’t a Roman Catholic. Religious
affiliation seemed so insignificant then. Besides, I was in love.
Now, realizing how important this issue must be to Paul, I’m
relieved I never told him about my own sad dilemma and the choice I
was forced to make.

“
When Reena miscarried on our
honeymoon, I was too stupid to realize it was her period. After
trying to have kids for several years, we consulted a fertility
specialist. You can imagine my shock when he told me Reena’s uterus
had never fully developed and it was impossible for her to
conceive.”

Paul turns me toward him. “All she wanted was my
money, but I couldn’t see that until it was too late. I was a fool,
Allie. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Say there’s a chance
for us. Tell me we can begin again.”

The pre-nup Reena mentioned. Was she telling the
truth? Or is Paul lying?

To my surprise, I say, “You’ll never know how much I
longed to hear those words, but we can’t erase the years. Besides,
as much as I’d like to, I won’t betray Reena.”

He grabs me by the shoulders. “Then tell me why you
came.”

“
I honestly don’t know. At first I
thought it was because Reena really seemed to need me. She told me
the marriage was in trouble—that there was another woman. You must
know that in her own strange way, she loves you.”

He shrugs that away. “I never thought you’d be her
champion.” “I’m not. Believe me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t
want to see you.”

“
I knew it.” He clasps me to him.
“There is no other woman—no one but you.” He pushes me away, and
stares down at me with those clear gray eyes. “Remember this,
Allie. I intend to have you. One way or the other.”

One way or the other? What’s the other? Instead of
melting against him, I shiver and tense. Paul’s voice. There’s a
hardness to it that makes his declaration of love sound more like a
life sentence.

I have little time to analyze my reaction. Paul
slides his hand behind my neck and brings me forward until my mouth
meets his. I’m trembling, but then, so is he. My lips respond to
his and I drown in the intensity of his passion.

When we finally part, Paul’s voice is rough with
desire. “I want you and I know you want me. Why are you fighting
it?”

Somewhere at the edge of my mind I see this red flag
waving as Allie-the-attorney pushes Allie-the-confused to the rear
and says, Objection, Your Honor. This woman is unable to act on her
own behalf.

I step out of Paul’s embrace. “If you really want to
begin again, get your life straightened out. Then give me a
call.”

His features freeze in a frustrated jaw-clench for
only an instant, then rearrange into an I’m-definitely-in-control
expression. “I understand where you’re coming from, Allie. I
respect you for it.” He grabs my hand. “Let’s get out of here
before I do something really high school.”

REENA IS STANDING just inside the door of the
stables talking to a tall, slouchy man in denims and boots. When he
turns to look my way, I cringe. He has the battered face of a
prizefighter with a forehead so thick it seems like a shelf above
the rest of his face. His lips, splintered with lines, flesh out
beneath a tortured nose.

In sharp contrast, Reena looks like a Dresden doll.
Dressed in white slacks with a long-sleeved white shirt, she sports
her usual wide-brimmed hat. Of course, there are the sunglasses.
Reena always was most un-Texan in her loathing for the sun. Even in
college while we were spread out on the banks of Hippy Hollow in
various degrees of nudity, Reena would slather herself with
sunblock and huddle beneath the nearest shrub.

As we near, the man tips his hat to Reena, then
disappears into the dark of the barn. I stiffen, readying myself
for the expected onslaught, but to my amazement when we dismount,
Reena gives us her FF smile and says, “Back at last. How was the
ride?”

I load my voice with enthusiasm. “Wonderful. Paul is
an expert guide. The Anacachos are much higher than I thought.”

“
I wouldn’t know about that. I
never learned to ride. Horses scare me to pieces.”

When I start for the house for a shower and fresh
change, Reena calls after me. “Don’t be long. I have some great
Bloody Marys waiting and the Dardens are on their way. They can’t
do dinner. Some child thing.”

I send up a small thanks that the Dardens will be
there to diffuse any tension that might exist among the three of
us. In fact, I can’t wait to see them.

In the year and a half since Susie visited Houston,
the triple-whammy of an imminent delivery, a kid still in diapers,
and a cheating husband hasn’t done much for her psyche or her
looks.

Her Valentine face, once haloed by coal-black curly
hair, is drawn and puffy; those ringlets now drab straight strands
shot with gray. Susie is a far cry from the vibrant girl Reena was
with the first night we met in front of the Tri Delt house.

I remember stepping back to let the gorgeous
platinum blonde dragging her pixie-like captive pass. Instead, the
blonde stopped, tapped me on the shoulder, and said in a croaky
voice, “You’re the perfect one. I choose you.”

My mouth must have dropped, because she laughed that
husky laugh I would never forget and grabbed me with her free hand.
“You’re coming with us.”

The rest of the evening was a blur. Hoards of guys
attracted by this blonde magnet swarmed around us begging her for a
date.

The pixie was Susie Baxter from Uvalde and she and
Reena Harper lived at a boarding house just up the street from
mine. Reena wandered into Susie’s room that very afternoon, asked
her to join her for a Coke in the basement, and when she found they
were slated to attend the same rush party, she pronounced they
would go together.

Susie and I were bewildered and flattered by Reena’s
“blessing” and quickly warmed to our assignment as her lackeys.
From that evening on, we held each other’s hands through the
following perilous weeks, and all screamed with joy when we pledged
the sorority Reena chose.

The pledge captain made it clear to Susie and me
that Reena made a deal and we better “hump” it. It took almost a
year for us to earn our stripes. She made All-Star Volleyball and I
was the leading golfer on the women’s team.

By May, we three were widely known as the
Tri-Delt-Trio, with Reena the star.

“
Allie.” Susie’s joyful greeting
brings me into the moment. She grabs me to her and whispers, “I’ve
missed you so much.”

Del steps into view. “Hey, don’t I get a hug?”

To my surprise, he looks great. An older version of
the once-leading quarterback for the Texas Longhorns, his coppery
hair bleached from the sun and there are deep channels in his
cheeks, but he still gazes at me with a fondness forged by our
mutual losses.

“
You can count on that.” I step
into his arms and warm to his hug. In spite of what Susie thinks is
going on now between Del and Reena, I can’t help but still care for
him.

The five of us climb the stairs to the tower,
conversation flush with enthusiasm and joviality, making it seem
just like old times. After Miguel passes Bloody Marys and salsa dip
with chips, Paul and Del drift off to one corner of the tower while
Reena occupies herself with checking the table arrangement.

Susie hunches close. “Did Reena say anything about
the missing paintings?”

My eyes widen with surprise. “Practically pitched a
fit. Said Paul had them removed while she was lunching with me in
Houston.”

Susie gasps. “That’s a bunch of hogwash. Del told me
the pictures were taken down the beginning of December.”

I wonder what Reena’s up to. Why would I care about
her paintings? Paintings I’ve never seen.

In the corner voices rise, then Del breaks away from
Paul to join us. “How’s crime in the big city?”

I pat the seat beside me. “Better than ever. How’s
ranching?”

“
Worse than ever. It’s bad enough
Susie and I can barely keep our heads above water, but Paul doesn’t
get it.”

Paul stands above us, fists clenched, jaw set. “Just
what don’t I get?”

Reena hurries over. It’s plain she’s sized up the
situation and wants to break the tension. “How’s that baby, Susie?
Did you show Allie his picture?”

Susie rummages through her purse as Paul repeats the
question and adds, “I’m waiting for an answer, Del.”

I feel Del tense and see his hands grip the edge of
the cushion. “In case you haven’t noticed, the cattle business is
shot this year. But, I guess you don’t care. You have the oil.”

“
Two beers and you always go back
to that. How many times do I have to tell you? Everything was
legal.”

“
Is having a judge in your hip
pocket legal?” Del is smiling but his eyes are hard. “Seems to me
there’s an easy way out for you, my friend. Give me the income from
one well and I’ll tell my lawyer to drop the suit.”

Paul’s face darkens with his voice. “You keep that
lawyer talk up and you’ll see what trouble is.” He slams his glass
on the table and heads for the stairs with Reena at his heels.

“
You can’t leave now. We have
luncheon guests. Please, Paul.” She turns, smile frozen in place.
“Sorry, but you know what a short fuse Paul has when things don’t
go his way.”

I start at that. The Paul I remember used to have a
slow burn. Maybe life with Reena has changed that part of him,
too.

The tension is broken when Miguel and Adelena arrive
bearing large wicker trays of sandwich makings.

Del tries to carry the day by describing the antics
of his four boys, but Reena and Susie don’t open their mouths. We
eat in silence until Paul’s jet roars overhead to become a small
speck in the east.

Del’s voice is thick with bitterness. “Paul’s got it
all, doesn’t he? A pretty wife, derricks galore with fat cattle in
between. And top that with a jet to run away from his frustrations.
Must be great to be a member of the lucky sperm club.”

Reena has finished the pitcher of Bloody Marys and
several glasses of wine, so her response is slurred. “Now, Del,
don’t be like that. He’ll be back. And he won’t remember why he
left.” She struggles to her feet as a stoic Miguel rushes from
nowhere to take her arm. “I think I’ll go sleep this off. Stay and
enjoy. Adelena will bring dessert and coffee.”