Golden Roses (22 page)

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Authors: Patricia Hagan

BOOK: Golden Roses
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They mounted and rode out and into the slow, cool drizzle.

It was nearly dark when Dolita’s scream interrupted Amber’s reverie, and they saw two riders thundering toward them down the arroyo.

“Bandits!” Dolita crossed herself, and Amber jerked her mount to a halt. Every instinct told her to turn and run. But the men were faster than her horse could ever be. In a moment, they were upon them, and Amber found herself staring up into the mocking face of Valdis Alezparito.

He threw his right leg up and over his saddle, landing solidly on the ground. Tipping back the wide brim of his sombrero, he placed his hands on his hips, legs wide apart, and flashed a triumphant grin up at Amber. She froze.

“Tell me,” he laughed above Dolita’s screams, “did you know I would be coming this way? Did you plan your journey so that we could meet?”

His grin was so infuriating that Amber’s fear was overwhelmed by anger. “Stay away from me, Valdis,” she hissed, gripping her reins tightly. She nodded toward Dolita, who was struggling with the other man. “And tell him to leave her alone.”

He continued to grin up at her. “It is amusing that while the law looks for me, I look for you. Now I have found you! I promised you something when we met again, so come down off your horse now. I wish to make good on my promise. There is a cave not too far from here, where we can be dry and cozy.”

He took a step forward, and Amber yanked the reins, jerking the horse so that he reared in the air, thrashing wildly. Valdis lunged and grabbed the reins, pressing his weight on the horse’s neck as he brought him down and under control. Then, as Amber beat at him with her hands, he jerked her from the saddle and flung her to the ground.

“I tell you this,” he vowed, eyes wide as he towered above her, “this night I shall have you. I offered you wealth, power, as my wife, but you thought you were too good for me. Now I will take you like the slut that you are.”

Amber rolled to one side, but Valdis brought one booted foot down to stomp upon her streaming silver hair. She cried with pain as she tried to pull away.

“I think I will have to hurt you to make you obey me,” he said, grabbing a handful of hair and twisting it, forcing her up onto her knees. Bending her neck back, he leaned over her face and said, “You will go with me to the cave. We will build a fire, for I want to see you naked in the firelight. I have waited a long time for this. You will dance for me. You will pleasure me in a hundred ways that I will teach you. And when tomorrow comes, you will beg not to leave me. You will want to stay with me and be my whore, as you might have been my wife.”

“You cowardly son of a bitch, I won’t go anywhere with you,” Amber bellowed in rage. “I would rather die than have you touch me.”

She saw only a flash of steel before she felt the knife pressed against her throat; felt the sting as the razor-sharp edge cut into the soft flesh ever so lightly. “You may get your wish, but only after you have pleased me. I shall make you want to die!”

His breath was hot and sour. She could feel a stickiness trickling down from the cut on her throat. She could not move.

Valdis and Gerras took the women to the cave, Gerras guarding them while Valdis handled the horses. When they arrived, Gerras dragged Dolita off to help him search for firewood, for anything dry enough to burn. Valdis took a bottle from his saddlebag and tilted it to his lips. Once, he saw Amber watching and held out the bottle. “You want a drink to get you in a good mood?”

Amber sank back against the cave wall, hoping her blazing eyes transmitted her message of hate.

“Ahhh, but you shall beg for a drink before long.” He chuckled, tilting the bottle again. “You will want to drink to give you strength to keep up with me, for I will show you what it is like to have a real man take you. Armand Mendosa was no real man. He gave what strength he had to the bulls, and look what happened to him!” His laughter was infuriating.

“Tell me,” he taunted. “What was it like with Armand? Did he say ‘please’ when he wanted to touch your breasts? Did he ask your permission to spread your thighs? He was such a gentleman, was he not?”

When Amber remained silent, he went to her and, cupping her chin, whispered, “After tonight, no other man will hold any interest for you. You will want only me…love only me. If you pleasure me, then we will be together always.”

He knelt before her, his tone suddenly gentle, his eyes mellowed. “I tell you this. I have yearned for you since first I saw you, but not always in the way that you think. If I had”—he jerked his head toward the outside of the cave—“I would have taken you as Gerras is taking that one. I want to give to you, and I wish more from you.”

He trailed his fingertips gently down her cheek, but she jerked her head away and he gasped angrily. “Never turn from me again, you little fool! Do you not understand what I am trying to tell you? I am in love with you! Do you hear me?” Amber continued to stare at him, her face unreadable. A shadow crossed his eyes. “Do not make me angry. I have told you of the feelings I have for you, but do not make me lose my temper. You have seen what happens when I lose my temper.”

Slowly Amber ran her fingers through her hair, shaking it about to swing freely about her face. She was stalling him, knowing she needed to catch him off his guard. She had seen what she needed—the glint of steel as the knife slipped from his boot and fell into the dirt. Gauging the distance from herself to the knife, she reached for it while pretending simply to allow Valdis to embrace her. As he kissed her, her hand touched the cold steel, fingers inching around the handle. There would be one chance and only one. If she failed, he would kill her.

Just as she brought her arm down in a swinging arc, Gerras and Dolita entered and Gerras screamed a warning. Valdis twisted to the side, and the blade missed the back of his neck, plunging instead into the flesh of his shoulder.

Amber felt the sickening thud as steel sliced into muscle, and Valdis fell away from her, falling backward, clutching his shoulder as blood streamed out of it. Amber wriggled from beneath him, screaming to Dolita, “Run!”

Valdis was swaying to and fro on his knees, blood gushing down his arm to pour from his fingers. His face was twisted in pain and shock.

“I will kill the whore!” Gerras bellowed, but by then, Amber and Dolita were almost to the mouth of the cave.

“No!” Valdis cried to Gerras. “Help me before I bleed to death.”

“But she will get away!” Gerras hesitated, looking from his bleeding partner to the women disappearing into the night.

“The wound is deep,” Valdis told him. “It bleeds badly. You must make a fire quickly. Take the knife and stick it into the fire, then to the wound. Make a fire from anything you can—anything.”

Gerras stared at him.

“Do it, goddamnit! You want to watch me bleed to death? I will deal with her later. The cut is deep. You must do as I say. Hurry! Burn anything, even our clothing if you must.”

Gerras did as he was told, and when the steel had turned white with heat, he looked at Valdis with pity.

“Do it!” Valdis gritted his teeth.

 

 

Amber pulled Dolita along in the darkness. Rain had begun again, in a steady, pattering downpour. They felt their hair plastered to their faces, but Dolita did not care. She hoped the rain would wash all the way through her skin into her soul to cleanse and purify, for she wondered if she would ever feel clean again.

Dolita sobbed, “I do not know the way in the dark. We must reach the high country and hide in the brush. It is our only hope.”

Dolita was close to fainting, and Amber under stood why the girl could not run as fast as she could. Several times they fell, tumbling over and over, desperate to reach the high ground. Amber kept Dolita’s hand clutched in hers, dragging her sometimes until Dolita cried out, “Look! An old coyote den!”

Lightning split the sky, lighting a hollowed-out hole behind some scrub brush.

“The hills are full of dens like these,” Dolita told her. “They can’t know which one we hide in. Hurry. We can pull the brush in front and lie very still.”

Amber started to ask what they would do if coyotes came home for the night, then kept still. She scrambled inside, Dolita right behind.

Once they were inside, Dolita began to cry. “Mother of God, when I think what he did to me, I want to die.”

There was nothing Amber could do but say firmly, “It’s over, and we’re alive, Dolita. Think only of that.”

Amber leaned back against the wet earth. Closing her eyes, she suddenly saw warm brown eyes, and she cried softly, “Cord! We have to get to Armand’s house and try to find Cord. It’s our only hope now.”

“At first light,” Dolita whispered wearily, painfully, “we will go.”

Amber closed her eyes once again, this time praying that she would find Cord, and praying also that the old, familiar dream would come to her in her misery and comfort her.

Chapter Eighteen

At last morning came, a gray mist hanging over the desert like sorrow, to bring back all of the night just past.

Amber supported Dolita as they stumbled out of the den into the clawing chill of dawn. “Just tell me the way,” Amber said. “I will get us there if I have to crawl there and carry you on my back.” She was fired with a greater determination than she had ever possessed.

Dolita lifted her head suddenly and pointed. “Over the next rise,” she cried softly. “Armand Mendosa’s house!”

Amber hurried to scramble through the brush and peer down into the valley. There was a large, sprawling house surrounded by rolling green pastures. There was no sign of anyone there.

“We are going to have to walk down there in these rags,” she told Dolita. “If you’d rather not, I’ll go first and come back with clothes for you.”

“I don’t think anything else can shame me,” Dolita responded dully. “Let us go.”

They made their way down the steep slope, sliding now and then, sometimes falling. By the time they reached the whitewashed railings around the house, Jualina had spotted them from the kitchen window. She ran to them, screaming and waving her arms. The question burning in Amber’s heart burst forth. “Jualina, is Cord Hayden still here?” She held her breath and waited.

“I do not know,” said the woman.

Amber grabbed her and shook her, control suddenly gone. “What do you mean?” she cried. “Is he or isn’t he living here?”

“I do not know,” Jualina repeated, eyes wide. “I have not seen him in two, maybe three days. He says nothing to me, just comes and goes. One day, I think he will leave and not come back. Perhaps he has done so this time.”

“But where does he go when he leaves?” Amber demanded, hysteria bubbling in her throat. “Surely, you know something. We have to find him, Jualina. He’s our only hope.”

Jualina turned to Dolita and they began conversing in their own, more familiar dialect. Amber wandered off into the main part of the house, going from room to room, absently marveling at the beautiful furnishings. All these things had belonged to Armand. Armand! She felt closer to him here…and grieved for him all over again.

Dolita came to find her standing in the master bedroom, lovingly fingering Armand’s silk dressing robe.

“Jualina says he may come back,” she said hesitantly, sorry to be intruding on her reverie. “He has not taken his clothes. But then, who knows whether he will come back. Jualina says he was always a strange one, and since Señor Mendosa died, he has been even stranger.”

Amber said nothing.

“Come.” Dolita touched her shoulder. “Jualina has prepared food. We are both weak.”

Amber followed her into the dining room, where Jualina had laid out platters of hastily fried sausages and boiled eggs. Amber forced herself to eat, then asked Jualina if she would help her with baths for herself and Dolita. She felt, rather than saw, Dolita’s grateful look.

“I will help you both,” Jualina said quickly. “Dolita has told me everything, señorita. I am so sorry. I will do anything I can to help.”

An hour later, wrapped in a thick towel, Amber lay down on Armand’s bed and allowed sleep to take her away.

The dream came again, and she welcomed it wholly, for the man who held her was no longer a stranger. She smiled up into Cord’s deep, warm eyes. He was the one she had been seeking, and found, and lost.

“Love me,” she whispered in her sleep. “Please, Cord, love me.”

“I do love you. I always have.”

The dream was so real, she hoped never to awaken. But then her eyes were open and she saw Cord lying beside her, his arms about her, his lips brushing hers, and she knew it was not a dream. “You’re here,” she whispered hoarsely. “It’s real. I’m not dreaming.”

“No, but I think
I
am.” He laughed softly, kissing her all over her face. “Oh, Amber, how I’ve searched for you. I thought I’d lost you forever.” He held her to him as tightly as he dared.

She told him everything, and felt him tense with fury and fear. When she had finished, and he had asked her all he needed to, he kissed her again and then, slowly and tantalizingly, began to run his hands downward, pulling away her towel to expose her nakedness completely. He rolled to one side, sliding his knee between her thighs. Gently, he began to manipulate his fingers between her legs, knowing where to touch, where to caress, and Amber felt fire coursing through her body. Her pelvis tightened, contracted, as she surrendered to the undulations sweeping through her.

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