A Mating of Hawks (29 page)

What a start to their marriage! Tracy's mouth trembled as she stole a glance at Shea's grim face. After what seemed a long time, they turned off the highway and started up the cañon.

“Tracy, what the hell was Judd talking about? Who tried to rape you?”

In as few words as possible, she told him. His knuckles whitened on the wheel. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I—I don't like to think about it.”

“But Judd knew.”

“He scared me one night. That was when he gave me a gun and took me to Stronghold.”

Shea drove in silence for so long that Tracy put her hand on his arm. “Shea! It doesn't make a difference, does it?”

He stopped the engine. “You bet it makes a difference!” He pulled her into his arms, kissed her deeply, tenderly, possessively. “All the time I was acting like a horse's ass, worrying about getting involved with you, you kept this to yourself! Tracy Benoit Scott, you are one hell of a woman and I love you!”

Tears stung her eyes. She met his lips and murmured longingly, “Oh, please, love, hurry! Let's hurry home.”

Thrilling to its precise deadly beauty, Judd caressed the Magnum. What a weapon! Enough to bag lion or bear. Lots more than a man needed but—

The door opened. Spinning, Judd aimed at the intruder. Vashti gasped. “Judd! Is that awful thing loaded?”

“My guns always are.”

She shivered. “Well, now you see it's me, point it somewhere else.”

He cradled it in his hand. “You ought not to bust into a man's room.” His tongue moved thickly, though his brain was cleared of the jealous rage that had driven him into that stupid clash after the wedding.

Vashti's eyes widened with horrow. “Judd! You—you haven't—”

He laughed, fondling the black steel. “Just went over to wish sweet little Tracy and my kid brother happy.” When the woman still looked terrified, he said impatiently, “Hell, I'm not going to jail for stopping that crazy bastard. Simpler for him just to disappear.”

“You wouldn't really kill him!”

Judd just smiled, savoring the exquisite delight of stalking Shea, tasting a dozen chances to take him before finally the right, the ultimate moment came. With luck, that could be special; a chance to make Shea know who was winning their lifelong battle. Vashti's incredulous voice roused him from these gratifying anticipations.

“You want that girl enough to kill your own brother?”

“He's pushing. I don't know about her, but he's got to go.”

“You're drunk.”

“Not much.”

Gauzy robe falling open, she put her hand on his arm. He kept the gun between them. “I'm not drunk enough to bed you, you randy old bitch!”

Gripping her shoulder brutally, he shoved her out, gave her a push down the hall and slammed the door. If she didn't get out of his life damn soon, he'd throw her out.

Pouring a drink, he sipped it, enjoying the warmth, lay down. He stroked the gun, drawing sensuous pleasure from its power. Shea wouldn't be in his way long. And once Tracy had a real man—

XX

We ought to make a wedding trip,” he said a few mornings later. They were lying in bed, with early sunlight warm and golden on their flesh, languorous and peaceful from having just made love. “Would you like to go to Europe? Or maybe Greece?”

She turned to nestle against his shoulder, marveling at the sweetness of being with him like this. “Let's do both sometime. But our wedding trip ought to be special. Something to do with us.”

“Well?” He frowned in mystification.

“Let's go down to where Socorro and Shea met. Try to find the rancho where they rescued Santiago and pass by Sonoita along the route they took past Tjúni's village and up the Santa Cruz Valley. Let's make that our trip, darling.”

“You know it's going to be hot?”

She laughed. “I didn't mean we wouldn't use our air conditioning or carry ice chests! But let's look for a water hole that could be the one they stayed at and camp there a few days. And Socorro must have died a little north of Ímuris. We should pass through there.”

“All right,” Shea assented, “I especially want to follow the Devil's Road to Tinajas Altas where Judah Frost got his. Of all the villains in the ranch's history, he's the creepiest. I've been there with Dad and Judd, but you should see it, too.”

After breakfast they got out maps and made a list. They'd begin at Bosque near Tumacacori where Santa Teresa de Cabora restored the child Christina's sight. At Tubac, they'd try to look past the art and craft galleries to the old presidio and Charles Poston's fabled Christmas parties. A little north of San Xavier del Bac, they'd pick up Ajo Road and at Gila Bend turn to drive through the awesome Cabeza Prieta where so many travelers taking this shortcut to California's Gold Rush had died of thirst or Arenero arrows.

“Then we'll loop back and cross the border at Sonoita,” Shea planned. “Pick up the Devil's Road on the Mexican side and follow it to where we can veer off to Pinacate and put on our walking shoes. Those lava flows are tough going.”

“Sounds wonderful,” sighed Tracy.

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “I married a crazy woman,” he said, leaning over to kiss her. “But I sure do like it!”

There had been no more trapped animals, poisoned birds or butchered carcasses. Renovation at the old ranch compound was under way, with Inez excited over her new kitchen and her daughters-in-law jubilant at the prospect of their own houses.

“And you won't be a faraway godmother, Teresita,” laughed Carla, whose baby was due that month. “Just across the patio! Maybe our babies will play together.”

“Give us a little time,” grinned Shea, circling Tracy with his arm.

They had brought the horses and Le Moyne to be cared for by the Sanchezes while they were away. “With respect,” said Chuey, shaking his gray-touched hair, “that is a strange wedding journey.”

But the women all thought it was excitingly romantic, a kind of pilgrimage. They understood place and family, for all of them had relatives scattered through Sonora and were proud that their ancestors had come to the Socorro shortly after it was founded and stayed through Apache and bandit terrors, through good years and bad. The bonds between them and the Scotts were rooted deep.

Swinging around to El Charco, they found Geronimo and Mary working on his truck. She had spotted the problem in the wiring and he was doing as she told him.

Stopping for a beer, they all talked about the wedding trip. Geronimo looked out across the mountains and whistled. “Have a good time, kids! We're going to Mazatlán for our honeymoon. Stay at the Camino Real, eat fancy and swim.”

Tracy raised an eyebrow at Mary for confirmation. Mary wiped a smudge off her nose and nodded, slipping her hand into Geronimo's. “If you'll be back by then, we'll get married the day after I get my certification.”

“We'll be back!” Tracy promised.

“Invite everybody,” Shea said. “We'll have a dance and barbecue.”

“Maybe you'd better sign a peace treaty along with your marriage certificate,” Tracy teased.

“She'll settle down,” predicted Geronimo fondly.

“So will he,” said Mary.

Shea threw his beer can into the barrel and strolled toward the eagle pen. “How's our wetback bird?”

“Meaner every day.” Geronimo rolled his eyes. “She can flop up on that stump now. I'll be glad when she sails right over the fence and keeps going.”

“So will she be,” Mary pointed out.

Tracy and Shea were loading cots, summer sleeping bags, and other gear into the pickup that evening when Judd's RV squealed to a halt beside them. He greeted them as genially as if he hadn't attacked Shea at the wedding and looked curiously at their preparations.

“Going on safari?”

“Sort of.” Shea faced his older brother without any softening in his expression and waited for him to speak.

Judd heaved a gusty sigh and hitched up one big shoulder. “Okay. I turned up skunk drunk on your big day and made a damn fool of myself. I'm sorry. But hell, little brother, you got the only girl I ever wanted enough to marry! Can't you be big about it?”

“Let's forget it,” Shea said. He added wearily, “You didn't come over here just to say that.”

Judd looked hurt, then shrugged and grinned. “It's Henri's day off and I hate my own cooking.”

“We're having leftover beans and cornbread,” Tracy said.

“Sounds great to me,” he beamed.

While Tracy was whipping up the bread and the beans were heating, they had beer and nuts. Judd inquired about Mary. “Tell her she's got that job Dad promised her as soon as she's ready,” he said largely.

Tracy frowned. It was hard to believe he'd forgotten that Mary had turned Le Moyne loose on him. He had to be after something, and Tracy didn't think it was brotherly love and harmony.

He pried the bare outline of their trip from Shea and said it was something he'd always wanted to do. Though neither of them had asked, he gave a report on Vashti. She was redecorating the town house and going to Europe for the summer.

“We had our problems,” he said, “but I rattle around in that big house.” He gave Tracy a look so frankly appraising that she blushed. “I won't find anyone like you, cousin, but I guess it's time I started looking for the next best thing.”

“A description to thrill any bride-to-be,” Tracy said drily.

Judd only laughed, and went on to say that his talk show appearance was still bringing in Stronghold enrollees, so many that he'd added another instructor. “It's good supplemental income,” he said, “but I see it as a public service.”

“Sure. An Armalite at every window.” Shea put the blue kettle of beans on the table as Tracy cut the golden-brown crusted cornbread into squares. “Pull up your chair, Judd.”

Judd declared the simple meal exactly what he'd been needing. It wasn't till afterward, when they were having coffee, that he settled back and looked at Shea. “We've got to come to an understanding. We'll both do better if we work things out sensibly.”

“What's sensible?”

“It still hasn't rained.”

Shea's eyes were unreadable. “I'd noticed that myself.”

“Damn it, I'm hurting! And you've got 40,000 acres going to waste!”

“Not to waste,” Shea corrected. “It's just about back to where it could carry a reasonable number of head, though since it's so dry I've decided to hold off another year to restock.”

Judd's square jaw thrust forward. “Well, I can't hold off a year,” he burst out. “I've got the damn cows right now!”

“I'll do what I said before,” Shea said levelly. “Sell down to what the range will carry and I'll let you run a herd on the lease.”

“Damned if I'll let you tell me how many cattle I can have!”

“I'm not telling you. If you don't trust my estimate, we can hire a range biologist to give the ranch a study. I'd go along with his recommendations if you would.”

Grating back his chair, Judd got to his feet. It was twilight but his eyes burned yellow in the dimness. “He'd come up with the same nonsense you spout!”

“Then we don't have much to talk about,” Shea said.

Judd stared at him, face hardening as if molten lava visibly cooled into a human visage. “It'll always be this way, won't it?” A strange note of regret colored his tone. “There's no way you and I can put the ranch back together the way it used to be—the way it ought to be.”

The brothers watched each other a long moment. Shea's voice was soft and a little sad. “You won't believe it, Judd, but I'd like to help.”

“Sure!” Judd flared. “Help me go broke on the cattle end of the operation! Some brother you are!”

Tiredly, Shea said, “I owe a duty to the land and the people who'll live here after all of us are dead.”

Judd's furious gaze took in Tracy, swept back to Shea. “Your kids!” he jeered. “Sure, you'll have a parcel of brats and you're willing to have green pastures for them! Well, I don't have kids or an old woman and I care about right damn
now!”

Stalking to the door, he spun around, teeth flashing in a malicious grin. “I don't have you by the balls like you've got me,” he said. “Not yet. But I can sure start making you uncomfortable! Think I'll start by calling the Border Patrol on that wetback you got working. And that good buddy of yours, Geronimo! The Army still might like to know where a deserter is.”

Shea's lips tightened. “The immigration folks would be a lot more interested in those mercenaries you're training. Pretty cute trick, having your recruiters smuggle illegals in. You've got them where you want them then. Teach them to shoot and hire them out wherever such fighters are wanted. Real profitable for you.”

“You've been spying!”

“No. Jaime talked to some of them a week or so ago.”

“They'll get their wages—more than they'd ever make at anything else.”

“And a lot of them are going to get shot.”

Judd shrugged. “That's war. Those damn Commies have got to be stopped. This is my way of helping. I just about break even.”

“You probably think you deserve a medal,” Shea said in disgust. “Stronghold's the pits but you're within the law there. This other deal, though—Close it out, Judd, or I'm going to turn you in.”

Flaming brimstone described the color of Judd's eyes. “You're not even a half-brother of mine,” he said thickly. “Some lousy bastard got to your whore of a mother and what they had was you!”

This time he wasn't drunk. Shea knocked him out into the yard. Judd felled him, kicked savagely at his head. Shea rolled out of the way, sprang up, and nearly lifted Judd off his feet with punches to the gut. Judd bellowed and closed his big arms around Shea, crushing him. Tracy snatched up a skillet and was going to bring it down on Judd's skull when Shea locked his leg against Judd's, threw him.